Marriage is, therefore, a compact entirely moral: it is not only a union of bodies or fortunes, it is a union of souls. Life in common and indissoluble, with all its possible accidents, is too heavy a burden to be left to chance. A man should think not only of his own happiness, but also of that of the woman whom he associates with his destiny; if he does not consider himself strong enough to fulfill toward her all the duties which such a connection imposes on him, he should not unite her to himself by indissoluble vows; if he does not think that he can love and respect her all through life, let him spare himself and her a life-long misery. We may see by this how important in conjugal union are a harmony of character, a just and mutual esteem, and an enlightened affection. To marry rashly and too hastily, and thus to risk future happiness, is already failing in a first duty. One should, therefore, not rely too implicitly upon indifferent or interested go-betweens.
It is said, indeed, that there is no way of knowing with certainty the character and sincerity of men. Many a one who in society appears amiable and estimable, is perhaps, in private life, selfish and tyrannical; women, it is said, moreover, are particularly skilled, even when young, in assuming qualities which they do not possess, and in disguising their faults; that if one were constantly scrutinizing and distrusting, marriage would be impossible; for the most sagacious are deceived in them, etc., etc. All this, to a certain extent, is true; and there could be nothing done without some sort of confidence; but this confidence, when it is the result of precaution and prudence, is much less often deceived than satirists would have it. Besides, if there be room for deception, even after a reasonably long intimacy, the chances are at least better than they would be if the parties were to rush headlong into a future absolutely unknown to them.
Another grave error is that of seeing in marriage nothing but a union of fortunes and names.
It is bringing what in reality is the noblest and most delicate of contracts, down to a simple commercial act. Certainly one should not propose to the inexperience of young people the union of two poverties, as an ideal: it is well known that poverty is much harder to bear when one has to share it with a wife and children, than alone. But whilst in certain classes of society marriage could scarcely be possible otherwise (workingmen having no capital to back their marriage contracts), the classes that have some competency should not make property the first consideration; character, mind, and merit should by far outweigh it.
We distinguish generally two kinds of marriages: the reason-marriages (mariages de raison) and the inclination marriages; and much has been said for and against both. These are questions which will never be solved, because experience shows that they are mostly dependent on circumstances. It may be said that, as a principle, the true marriage is the marriage based on inclination enlightened by reason. What experience and wisdom condemn, are the foolish inclinations—those, for example, that take no account of age, education, social surroundings, necessities of life. These sorts of passion scarcely ever stand the test of time and circumstances, and are generally followed by a painful reaction. “There is,” says La Bruyère, “hardly any other reason for loving no longer, than to have loved too much.” But inclination is not always unreasonable; and when it can be reconciled with the counsels of wisdom, which is no rare thing, it is better than cold reason, and answers better to the purpose of marriage: it is a surer guaranty of its dignity and happiness.
A wise moralist, Mr. Adolphe Garnier, makes a very reasonable reply to those who pretend that inclination disappears very fast in marriage: “We reply,” he says, “that inclination will at least have formed a true marriage whilst it lasted. It will leave for all the rest of life a remembrance of the first years, which shall have been purified, ennobled, sanctified by this heart-affection. This remembrance will sweeten more than one bitter moment, will prevent more than one anguish. Duty will be sustained by a remembrance of past happiness.”[69]
The marriage once made, we have to consider, one after the other, the duties of the husband and those of the wife. There are some they have in common, and others which belong to the particular part each plays in the household.
The duty which the husband and wife have in common, is fidelity. This duty is based on the very nature of marriage, as also upon a mutual promise.
Let us begin by this latter consideration. Marriage, such as it is instituted in civilized or Christian countries, is monogamy, or marriage of one man with one woman (except in cases of decease). Such is the state one binds one’s self to in entering the marriage relation: one accepts thereby the obligation of an inviolable fidelity. If then a promise is sacred in respect to material goods, how much more sacred is the promise between hearts, and this mutual gift of soul to soul, which constitutes the dignity of marriage! Conjugal fidelity is, then, a duty of honor, a veritable debt.
But fidelity is not only the obligatory result of a promise, of a given word; it is also the result of the very idea of marriage, and marriage in its turn results from the nature of things.