I
The old gentleman entered, and was about to sit down, when a button
became detached from some portion of his raiment and rolled upon the
floor. He picked the button up and observed that he would keep it for
his housekeeper to sew on, and, while speaking on the strangeness of
housekeeping and buttons, he came slowly to the subject of matrimony--
"Like so many other customs," said he, "marriage is not native to the
human race, nor is it altogether peculiar to it. So far as I am aware
no person was ever born married, and in extreme youth bachelors and
spinsters are so common as to call for no remark. Nature strives, not
for duality as in the case of the Siamese Twins but for individuality.
We are all born strongly separated, and I am often inclined to fancy
that this ceremony of joining appears very like flying in the face of
Providence. I have also thought, on the other hand, that the
segregation of humanity into male and female is not an economic
practice, but I fear the foundation of the sex habit is by this time so
deeply trenched in our natures as to be practically ineradicable.
"Throughout nature the male and female habit is usual: all beasts are
born of one or the other gender, and this is also the case in the
vegetable kingdom: but I am not aware that the ridiculous and wasteful
preparations with which we encumber matrimony obtain also among plants
and animals. Certainly, among some animals courtship, as we understand
it, is practised--Wolves, for instance, are an extraordinarily acute
people who make good husbands and fathers, and in these relations they
display a tenderness and courtesy which one only acquainted with their
out-of-door manners would scarcely credit them with. Their courtship
is conducted under circumstances of extraordinary rigour. A he-wolf
who becomes enamoured of a female from another tribe is forced, in
attempting to wed her, to set his life upon the venture, and,
disdaining all the fury of her numerous relatives, he must forcibly
detach her from her family, kill or maim all her other suitors, sustain
in a wounded and desperate condition a prolonged chase over the
snow-clad Russian Steppes, and, ultimately, consummate his nuptials, if
he can, with as many limbs as his lady's family have failed to collect
off him. This is a courtship admirably fitted to evolve a hardy and
Spartan race strong in the virtues of reliance and self-control.
"Spiders, on the other hand, are a people whom I despise on several
counts, but must admire on others. They conduct their love affairs in
an even more tragic style. In every event matrimony is a tragedy, but
in the case of spiders it is a catastrophe. Spiders are a very sour
and pessimistic people who live in walls, corners of hotel bedrooms and
holes generally, in which places they weave very delicate webs, and sit
for a long period in a state of philosophic ecstasy, contemplating the
infinite. Their principal pastimes are killing flies and committing
suicide--both of which games should be encouraged. Like so many other
unhappy creatures they are born with a gender from which there is no
escape. The male spider is very much smaller than the female, and he
does not care greatly for his life. When he does not desire to live
any longer he commits matrimony or suicide. He weds a large and fierce
wife, who, when in expectation of progeny, kills him, and, being a
thorough-going person as all females are, she also eats him, possibly
at his own request, and thus she relieves her husband of the tedium of
existence and herself of the necessity for seeking immediate victual.
I do not know whether male spiders are very plentiful or extremely
scarce, but I cite this as an example of the extravagance and economy
of the female gender.
"Of the courting habits of fish I have scanty knowledge. Fish are very
ugly, dirty creatures who appear to live entirely in water, and they
have been known to follow a ship for miles in the disgusting hope of
garbage being thrown to them by the steward. Their chief pastime is
weighing each other, for which purpose they are liberally provided with
scales. They can be captured by nets, or rods and lines, or, when they
are cockles, they can be captured by the human hand, but, in this
latter case, they cannot be tamed, having very little intelligence.
The cockle has no scale, and feels the deprivation keenly, hiding
himself deep in the sea and seldom venturing forth except at
night-time. He is composed of two shells and a soft piece, is chiefly
useful for poisoning children and is found at Sandymount, a place where
nobody but a cockle would live. Other fish may be generally described
as, crabs, pinkeens, red herrings and whales. How these conduct their
matrimonial adventures I do not know--the statement that whales are
fond of pinkeens is true only in a food sense, for these races have
never been observed to intermarry.
"A great many creatures capture or captivate their mates by
singing.--These are usually, but not always, birds, and include wily
wagtails, larks, canary birds and the crested earwig. Poets, music
hall comedians and cats may also be included in this category. Dogs
are imperative and dashing wooers, but they seldom sing. Peacocks
expand their tails before the astonished gaze of their brides, showing
how the female sex is over-borne by minor, unimportant advantages.
Frogs, I believe, make love in the dark, which is a wise thing for them
to do--they are very witty folk, but confirmed sentimentalists.
Grocers' assistants attract their mates by exposing very tall collars
and brown boots. Drapers' assistants follow suit, with the comely
addition of green socks and an umbrella--they are never known to fail.
Some creatures do not marry at all. At a certain period they break in
two halves, and each half, fully equipped for existence, waggles away
from the other.--They are the only perfectly happy folk of whom I am
aware. For myself, I was born single and I will remain so, I will
never be a slave to the disgusting habit of matrimony."
Having said this with great firmness, the old gentleman shed two more
buttons from his waistcoat, and, after sticking three nails and a piece
of twine through his garments, he departed very happily. The
gentleman-in-waiting sneezed three times in a loud voice, and gave a
war-whoop, but I took no notice of these impertinences.