"I have known a fond couple quarrel in the very honeymoon about cutting up a tart: nay, I could name two, who after having had seven children, fell out and parted beds upon the boiling of a leg of mutton. My very next neighbours have not spoken to one another these three days, because they differed in their opinions, whether the clock should stand by the window, or over the chimney. It may seem strange to you, who are not a married man, when I tell you how the least trifle can strike a woman dumb for a week together. But if you ever enter into this state, you will find, that the soft sex as often express their anger by an obstinate silence, as by an ungovernable clamour.
"Those indeed who begin this course of life without jars at their setting out, arrive within few months at a pitch of benevolence and affection, of which the most perfect friendship is but a faint resemblance. As in the unfortunate marriage, the most minute and indifferent things are objects of the sharpest resentment; so in a happy one, they are occasions of the most exquisite satisfaction. For what does not oblige in one we love? What does not offend in one we dislike? For these reasons I take it for a rule, that in marriage, the chief business is to acquire a prepossession in favour of each other. They should consider one another's words and actions with a secret indulgence: there should be always an inward fondness pleading for each other, such as may add new beauties to everything that is excellent, give charms to what is indifferent, and cover everything that is defective. For want of this kind propensity and bias of mind, the married pair often take things ill of each other, which no one else would take notice of in either of them.
"But the most unhappy circumstance of all is, where each party is always laying up fuel for dissension, and gathering together a magazine of provocations to exasperate each other with when they are out of humour. These people in common discourse make no scruple to let those who are by know they are quarrelling with one another, and think they are discreet enough, if they conceal from the company the matters which they are hinting at. About a week ago, I was entertained for a whole dinner with a mysterious conversation of this nature; out of which I could learn no more, than that the husband and wife were angry at one another. We had no sooner sat down, but says the gentleman of the house, in order to raise discourse, 'I thought Margarita[168] sung extremely well last night.' Upon this, says the lady, looking as pale as ashes, 'I suppose she had cherry-coloured ribands[169] on.' 'No,' answered the husband, with a flush in his face, 'but she had laced shoes.'[170] I look upon it, that a bystander on such occasions has as much reason to be out of countenance as either of the combatants. To turn off my confusion, and seem regardless of what had passed, I desired the servant who attended to give me the vinegar, which unluckily created a new dialogue of hints; for as far as I could gather by the subsequent discourse, they had dissented the day before about the preference of elder to wine vinegar. In the midst of their discourse, there appeared a dish of chickens and asparagus, when the husband seemed disposed to lay aside all disputes; and looking upon her with a great deal of good nature, said, 'Pray, my dear, will you help my friend to a wing of the fowl that lies next you, for I think it looks extremely well.' The lady, instead of answering him, addressing herself to me, 'Pray, sir,' said she, 'do you in Surrey reckon the white- or the black-legged fowls the best?' I found the husband changed colour at the question; and before I could answer, asked me, whether we did not call hops 'broom' in our country? I quickly found, they did not ask questions so much out of curiosity as anger: for which reason I thought fit to keep my opinion to myself, and, as an honest man ought (when he sees two friends in warmth with each other), I took the first opportunity I could to leave them by themselves.
"You see, sir, I have laid before you only small incidents, which are seemingly trivial; but take it from a man who am very well experienced in this state, they are principally evils of this nature which make marriages unhappy. At the same time, that I may do justice to this excellent institution, I must own to you, there are unspeakable pleasures which are as little regarded in the computation of the advantages of marriage, as the others are in the usual survey that is made of its misfortunes.
"Lovemore and his wife live together in the happy possession of each other's hearts, and by that means have no indifferent moments, but their whole life is one continued scene of delight. Their passion for each other communicates a certain satisfaction, like that which they themselves are in, to all that approach them. When she enters the place where he is, you see a pleasure which he cannot conceal, nor he or any one else describe. In so consummate an affection, the very presence of the person beloved has the effect of the most agreeable conversation. Whether they have matter to talk of or not, they enjoy the pleasures of society, and at the same time the freedom of solitude. Their ordinary life is to be preferred to the happiest moments of other lovers. In a word, they have each of them great merit, live in the esteem of all who know them, and seem but to comply with the opinions of their friends, in the just value they have for each other."
FOOTNOTES:
[168] Francesca Margarita de l'Epine, a native of Tuscany. This celebrated singer performed in many of the earlier Italian operas represented in England. She and Mrs. Tofts were rivals for the public favour, and it seems they divided pretty equally the applause of the town. She sung on the stage, at public entertainments, in concerts at York Buildings and Stationers' Hall, and once in the hall of the Middle Temple, in a musical performance at the Christmas revels of that society. One Greber, a German musician, who studied some few years in Italy, brought this Italian with him to England, whence she was known by the name of Greber's Peg. It is said that she had afterwards a criminal connection with Daniel Earl of Nottingham. In a shrewd epigram written by Lord Halifax, she is styled "The Tawny Tuscan," and he is called "Tall Nottingham." Margarita continued a singer till about the year 1718, when, having, as Downes relates, scraped together above ten thousand guineas, she retired, and was afterwards married to Dr. Pepusch. The epithet "tawny" was very characteristic of her, for she was remarkably swarthy, and in general so destitute of personal charms, that her husband seldom called her by any other name than Hecate, to which she answered very readily. She died about 1740. See Sir J. Hawkin's "History of Music," vol. v. p. 153 (Nichols).—The statement that she had an improper connection with the Earl of Nottingham appears to rest solely on statements in party poems of the time.
[169] Ladies wore "commodes" as head-dresses, sometimes backed by dark-coloured ribbons. The prevailing fashion about 1712 was cherry colour; see Spectator, No. [271].
[170] In a song in D'Urfey's "Wit and Mirth"—"The Young Maid's Portion"—the lady speaks of her laced shoes of Spanish leather. Malcolm says that Spanish leather shoes laced with gold were common about this time (Planché's "Cyclopædia of Costume").