THERE cannot be a better practical illustration of the wise saw and
ancient instance, that there may be too much of a good thing, than is
presented by a loving couple. Undoubtedly it is meet and proper that two
persons joined together in holy matrimony should be loving, and
unquestionably it is pleasant to know and see that they are so; but there
is a time for all things, and the couple who happen to be always in a
loving state before company, are well-nigh intolerable.
And in taking up this position we would have it distinctly understood
that we do not seek alone the sympathy of bachelors, in whose objection
to loving couples we recognise interested motives and personal
considerations. We grant that to that unfortunate class of society there
may be something very irritating, tantalising, and provoking, in being
compelled to witness those gentle endearments and chaste interchanges
which to loving couples are quite the ordinary business of life. But
while we recognise the natural character of the prejudice to which these
unhappy men are subject, we can neither receive their biassed evidence,
nor address ourself to their inflamed and angered minds. Dispassionate
experience is our only guide; and in these moral essays we seek no less
to reform hymeneal offenders than to hold out a timely warning to all
rising couples, and even to those who have not yet set forth upon their
pilgrimage towards the matrimonial market.
Let all couples, present or to come, therefore profit by the example of
Mr. and Mrs. Leaver, themselves a loving couple in the first degree.
[Picture: The Loving Couple]
Mr. and Mrs. Leaver are pronounced by Mrs. Starling, a widow lady who
lost her husband when she was young, and lost herself about the
same-time—for by her own count she has never since grown five years
older—to be a perfect model of wedded felicity. ‘You would suppose,’
says the romantic lady, ‘that they were lovers only just now engaged.
Never was such happiness! They are so tender, so affectionate, so
attached to each other, so enamoured, that positively nothing can be more
charming!’
‘Augusta, my soul,’ says Mr. Leaver. ‘Augustus, my life,’ replies Mrs.
Leaver. ‘Sing some little ballad, darling,’ quoth Mr. Leaver. ‘I
couldn’t, indeed, dearest,’ returns Mrs. Leaver. ‘Do, my dove,’ says Mr.
Leaver. ‘I couldn’t possibly, my love,’ replies Mrs. Leaver; ‘and it’s
very naughty of you to ask me.’ ‘Naughty, darling!’ cries Mr. Leaver.
‘Yes, very naughty, and very cruel,’ returns Mrs. Leaver, ‘for you know I
have a sore throat, and that to sing would give me great pain. You’re a
monster, and I hate you. Go away!’ Mrs. Leaver has said ‘go away,’
because Mr. Leaver has tapped her under the chin: Mr. Leaver not doing as
he is bid, but on the contrary, sitting down beside her, Mrs. Leaver
slaps Mr. Leaver; and Mr. Leaver in return slaps Mrs. Leaver, and it
being now time for all persons present to look the other way, they look
the other way, and hear a still small sound as of kissing, at which Mrs.
Starling is thoroughly enraptured, and whispers her neighbour that if all
married couples were like that, what a heaven this earth would be!
The loving couple are at home when this occurs, and maybe only three or
four friends are present, but, unaccustomed to reserve upon this
interesting point, they are pretty much the same abroad. Indeed upon
some occasions, such as a pic-nic or a water-party, their lovingness is
even more developed, as we had an opportunity last summer of observing in
person.
There was a great water-party made up to go to Twickenham and dine, and
afterwards dance in an empty villa by the river-side, hired expressly for
the purpose. Mr. and Mrs. Leaver were of the company; and it was our
fortune to have a seat in the same boat, which was an eight-oared galley,
manned by amateurs, with a blue striped awning of the same pattern as
their Guernsey shirts, and a dingy red flag of the same shade as the
whiskers of the stroke oar. A coxswain being appointed, and all other
matters adjusted, the eight gentlemen threw themselves into strong
paroxysms, and pulled up with the tide, stimulated by the compassionate
remarks of the ladies, who one and all exclaimed, that it seemed an
immense exertion—as indeed it did. At first we raced the other boat,
which came alongside in gallant style; but this being found an unpleasant
amusement, as giving rise to a great quantity of splashing, and rendering
the cold pies and other viands very moist, it was unanimously voted down,
and we were suffered to shoot a-head, while the second boat followed
ingloriously in our wake.
It was at this time that we first recognised Mr. Leaver. There were two
firemen-watermen in the boat, lying by until somebody was exhausted; and
one of them, who had taken upon himself the direction of affairs, was
heard to cry in a gruff voice, ‘Pull away, number two—give it her, number
two—take a longer reach, number two—now, number two, sir, think you’re
winning a boat.’ The greater part of the company had no doubt begun to
wonder which of the striped Guernseys it might be that stood in need of
such encouragement, when a stifled shriek from Mrs. Leaver confirmed the
doubtful and informed the ignorant; and Mr. Leaver, still further
disguised in a straw hat and no neckcloth, was observed to be in a
fearful perspiration, and failing visibly. Nor was the general
consternation diminished at this instant by the same gentleman (in the
performance of an accidental aquatic feat, termed ‘catching a crab’)
plunging suddenly backward, and displaying nothing of himself to the
company, but two violently struggling legs. Mrs. Leaver shrieked again
several times, and cried piteously—‘Is he dead? Tell me the worst. Is
he dead?’
Now, a moment’s reflection might have convinced the loving wife, that
unless her husband were endowed with some most surprising powers of
muscular action, he never could be dead while he kicked so hard; but
still Mrs. Leaver cried, ‘Is he dead? is he dead?’ and still everybody
else cried—‘No, no, no,’ until such time as Mr. Leaver was replaced in a
sitting posture, and his oar (which had been going through all kinds of
wrong-headed performances on its own account) was once more put in his
hand, by the exertions of the two firemen-watermen. Mr. Leaver then
exclaimed, ‘Augustus, my child, come to me;’ and Mr. Leaver said,
‘Augusta, my love, compose yourself, I am not injured.’ But Mrs. Leaver
cried again more piteously than before, ‘Augustus, my child, come to me;’
and now the company generally, who seemed to be apprehensive that if Mr.
Leaver remained where he was, he might contribute more than his proper
share towards the drowning of the party, disinterestedly took part with
Mrs. Leaver, and said he really ought to go, and that he was not strong
enough for such violent exercise, and ought never to have undertaken it.
Reluctantly, Mr. Leaver went, and laid himself down at Mrs. Leaver’s
feet, and Mrs. Leaver stooping over him, said, ‘Oh Augustus, how could
you terrify me so?’ and Mr. Leaver said, ‘Augusta, my sweet, I never
meant to terrify you;’ and Mrs. Leaver said, ‘You are faint, my dear;’
and Mr. Leaver said, ‘I am rather so, my love;’ and they were very loving
indeed under Mrs. Leaver’s veil, until at length Mr. Leaver came forth
again, and pleasantly asked if he had not heard something said about
bottled stout and sandwiches.
Mrs. Starling, who was one of the party, was perfectly delighted with
this scene, and frequently murmured half-aside, ‘What a loving couple you
are!’ or ‘How delightful it is to see man and wife so happy together!’
To us she was quite poetical, (for we are a kind of cousins,) observing
that hearts beating in unison like that made life a paradise of sweets;
and that when kindred creatures were drawn together by sympathies so fine
and delicate, what more than mortal happiness did not our souls partake!
To all this we answered ‘Certainly,’ or ‘Very true,’ or merely sighed, as
the case might be. At every new act of the loving couple, the widow’s
admiration broke out afresh; and when Mrs. Leaver would not permit Mr.
Leaver to keep his hat off, lest the sun should strike to his head, and
give him a brain fever, Mrs. Starling actually shed tears, and said it
reminded her of Adam and Eve.
The loving couple were thus loving all the way to Twickenham, but when we
arrived there (by which time the amateur crew looked very thirsty and
vicious) they were more playful than ever, for Mrs. Leaver threw stones
at Mr. Leaver, and Mr. Leaver ran after Mrs. Leaver on the grass, in a
most innocent and enchanting manner. At dinner, too, Mr. Leaver _would_
steal Mrs. Leaver’s tongue, and Mrs. Leaver _would_ retaliate upon Mr.
Leaver’s fowl; and when Mrs. Leaver was going to take some lobster salad,
Mr. Leaver wouldn’t let her have any, saying that it made her ill, and
she was always sorry for it afterwards, which afforded Mrs. Leaver an
opportunity of pretending to be cross, and showing many other
prettinesses. But this was merely the smiling surface of their loves,
not the mighty depths of the stream, down to which the company, to say
the truth, dived rather unexpectedly, from the following accident. It
chanced that Mr. Leaver took upon himself to propose the bachelors who
had first originated the notion of that entertainment, in doing which, he
affected to regret that he was no longer of their body himself, and
pretended grievously to lament his fallen state. This Mrs. Leaver’s
feelings could not brook, even in jest, and consequently, exclaiming
aloud, ‘He loves me not, he loves me not!’ she fell in a very pitiable
state into the arms of Mrs. Starling, and, directly becoming insensible,
was conveyed by that lady and her husband into another room. Presently
Mr. Leaver came running back to know if there was a medical gentleman in
company, and as there was, (in what company is there not?) both Mr.
Leaver and the medical gentleman hurried away together.
The medical gentleman was the first who returned, and among his intimate
friends he was observed to laugh and wink, and look as unmedical as might
be; but when Mr. Leaver came back he was very solemn, and in answer to
all inquiries, shook his head, and remarked that Augusta was far too
sensitive to be trifled with—an opinion which the widow subsequently
confirmed. Finding that she was in no imminent peril, however, the rest
of the party betook themselves to dancing on the green, and very merry
and happy they were, and a vast quantity of flirtation there was; the
last circumstance being no doubt attributable, partly to the fineness of
the weather, and partly to the locality, which is well known to be
favourable to all harmless recreations.
In the bustle of the scene, Mr. and Mrs. Leaver stole down to the boat,
and disposed themselves under the awning, Mrs. Leaver reclining her head
upon Mr. Leaver’s shoulder, and Mr. Leaver grasping her hand with great
fervour, and looking in her face from time to time with a melancholy and
sympathetic aspect. The widow sat apart, feigning to be occupied with a
book, but stealthily observing them from behind her fan; and the two
firemen-watermen, smoking their pipes on the bank hard by, nudged each
other, and grinned in enjoyment of the joke. Very few of the party
missed the loving couple; and the few who did, heartily congratulated
each other on their disappearance.