Miss Bungs is dead. It is well to state this fact, lest I should be suspected of some covert allusion to the living. She firmly believed in the XXXIX. articles, and in a fortieth—namely—that man is a fortune-hunter, from his cradle. She often declared, that, sooner than wed a fortune-hunter, she would die a cruel death—she would die a maid—she did so, in the full possession of her senses, to the last.
Her entire estate, consisting of sundry shares, in fancy stocks, two parrots, a monkey, a silver snuff-box, and her paraphernalia, she directed to be sold; and the avails employed, for the promotion of celibacy, among the heathen.
Yet it was the opinion of those, who knew her intimately, that Miss Bungs was, at heart, sufficiently disposed to enter into the holy state of matrimony, could she have found one pure, disinterested spirit; but, unfortunately, she was fully persuaded, that every man, who smiled upon her, and inquired after her health, was “after her money.” Miss Bungs was not unwilling to encourage the impression, that she was an object of particular regard, in certain quarters; and, if a gentleman picked up her glove, or escorted her across a gutter, she was in the habit of instituting particular inquiries, among her acquaintances—in strict confidence of course—in regard to his moral character—ejaculating with a sigh, that men were so mercenary now-a-days, it was difficult to know who could be trusted.
Now, this was very wrong, in Miss Bungs. By the English law, if a man or a woman pretends, falsely, that he or she is married to any person, that person may libel, in the spiritual court, and obtain an injunction of silence; and this offence, in the language of the law, is called jactitation of marriage. I can see no reason why an injunction in cases of jactitation of courtship, should not be allowed; for serious evils may frequently arise, from such unauthorized pretences.
After grave reflection, I am of opinion, that Miss Bungs carried her opposition to fortune-hunters, beyond the bounds of reason. Let us define our terms. The party, who marries, only for money, intending, from the very commencement, to make use of it, for the selfish gratification of vain, or vicious, propensities—is a fortune-hunter of the very worst kind. But let us not forget, as we go along, that this field is occupied by huntresses, as well as by hunters; and that, upon such voyages of discovery, the cap may be set, as effectually, as the compass.
There is another class, with whom the degree of personal attachment, which really exists, is too feeble, to resist the combined influence of selfishness and pride. Such also, I suppose, may be placed in the category of fortune-hunters. We find an illustration of this, in the case of Mr. Mewins. After a liberal arrangement had been made, for the young lady, by her father; Mr. Mewins, having taken a particular fancy to a little, brown mare, demanded, that it should be thrown into the bargain; and, upon a positive refusal, the match was broken off. After a couple of years, the parties accidentally met, at a country ball—Mr. Mewins was quite willing to renew the engagement—the lady appeared not to have the slightest recollection of him. “Surely you have not forgotten me,” said he—“What name, sir?” she inquired—“Mewins,” he replied; “I had the honor of paying my addresses to you, about two years ago.”—“I remember a person of that name,” she rejoined, “who paid his addresses to my father’s brown mare.”
In matrimony, wealth is, of course, a very comforting accessory. It renders an agreeable partner still more so—and it often goes, not a little way, to balance an unequal bargain. Time and talent may as wisely be wasted, in pursuit of the philosopher’s stone, as of an unmixed good or evil, on this side the grave. Temper may be mistaken, or it may change; beauty may fade; but £60,000, well managed, will enable the happy man or woman, to bear up, with tolerable complacency, under the severest trials of domestic life. What a blessed thing it is, to fall back upon, when one is compelled to mourn, over the infirmities of the living, or the absence, of the dead! What a solace!
It was therefore wrong, in Miss Bungs, to designate, as fortune-hunters, those, of either sex, who have come to the rational conclusion, that money is essential to the happiness of married life. No man or woman of common sense, who is poor, will, now-a-days, commit the indiscretion of falling in love, unless with some person of ample possessions.
What, then, is to become of the penniless, and the unpretty! We must adopt the custom of the ancient Babylonians, introduced about 1433 B. C., by Atossa, the daughter of Belochus. At a certain season of the year, the most lovely damsels were assembled, and put up, singly, at auction, to be purchased, by the highest bidder. The wealthy swains of Babylon poured forth their wealth, like water; and rivals settled the question, not by the length of their rapiers, but of their purses. The money, thus obtained, became the dowry of those, whose personal attractions were not likely to obtain them husbands. They also were put up, and sold to the lowest bidder, as the poor were formerly disposed of, in our villages. Every unattractive maiden, young, old, and of no particular age, was put up, at a maximum, and bestowed on him, who would take her, with the smallest amount of dowry. It is quite possible, that certain lots may have been withdrawn.
I rather prefer this practice to that of the Spartans, which prevailed, about 884 B. C. At an appointed time, the marriageable damsels were collected, in a hall, perfectly dark; and the young men were sent into the apartment; walking, evidently, neither by faith nor by sight, but, literally, feeling their way, and thus selected their helpmates. This is in perfect keeping with the principle, that love is blind.