CHAPTER XVI

DOES MARRIAGE HELP A MAN?

In social life--In commercial life--In literary and artistic life--Matrimony is a highly respectable institution.

Does marriage help a man?

Well, if he marries a rich wife, of course it does; but, you see, money helps wherever it comes from, and so we must put this consideration out of the question altogether.

Let us also say, and at once, too, that if a man finds happiness in matrimony, marriage will help him, whatever his position may be; but happiness helps wherever it comes from, and so we must put this consideration out of the question also.

And before answering the question, or rather, before presenting arguments both in the affirmative and in the negative, we must examine the different positions that a man may occupy in life.

In commercial pursuits marriage will help a man. If money-making is the chief concern of his life, an attentive, interested, saving wife will enable a man to devote all his mind to business, and, by a careful management of her house, will also enable him to amass wealth.

If a man holds a post of responsibility--a Government one, for example, in the Diplomatic Service, in the Civil Service, in the Church, in the university professions--a wife, possessed of attractive charms, amiable and tactful, will help him; for let us remember that in England, as well as in all countries where it is sought to always appoint the right man in the right place, before deciding on a candidate for any important vacant post, the first question that is asked is, 'What kind of a wife has he got?' The kind of wife that will help such a man is the one that will help him socially and diplomatically--by wire-pulling, if you like.

Now, if interviewers set any value on their comfort--nay, on their lives--I advise them to avoid this topic; for the question is not only a very big one, but a very uncomfortable one indeed, considering that the very men who are called upon to answer it must naturally be married men.

To prove this, I will, in a few words, put down a little conversation I quite recently had on the subject over a cup of tea with a charming English lady.

'But,' she said, 'you do not answer my question--Does marriage help a man?'

'Sometimes yes, sometimes no. It depends a great deal on the profession, or the calling, of the man.'

'Well, a doctor, for instance?'

'Yes,' I said, 'marriage helps a doctor. It stamps him respectable, and many women will not consult a doctor unless they know that he is a married man; but white hair will help him quite as much.'

'That is not very promising,' said the lady.

'Well,' I replied, 'let us try again.'

'Surely women can do much to inspire, to encourage a man, whatever his work may be?'

'Yes, a sympathetic woman can do a great deal; but it is very difficult to quite determine what effect her help may have upon her husband's work during the various critical periods of his career. There may have been days when, without her encouragement, he would have lost faith in himself, but such cases are rare. Then you speak of artists, of people who live by praise, feed on it. I have known painters who looked for and found such encouragement from their wives. On the other hand, I have known others who sought solitude when at work, men who could not have expressed their message unless alone with their art. I have known authors who looked for inspiration from their wives, or thought they did, and I have known others who could not do a stroke of work unless they were absolutely left alone with their thoughts.'

'But if a wife makes a man happy, that alone surely helps him?'

'Of course it does; but the married man has far greater responsibilities than the single one, and he may be obliged to produce for the sake of filling many little hungry mouths. And another thing you must remember that the single man can command the interest of a great number of women who would not care to be interested in his wife, and very few wives will realize that they may not be as interesting as their husbands. This will cause trouble--unpleasantness, at least--and stand in the way of a man's success.'

'Then,' said the lady, 'let us change the question. Does marriage hamper a man?'

'Undoubtedly there are professions which seem to necessitate bachelorhood, where marriage is not only no help, but a handicap. A soldier, for instance, should not marry, for a married soldier, good fighting-man though he may be, never can forget the wife, and perhaps the little ones, at home.'

'I take it,' said my lady interlocutor, 'that you do not advocate marriage for the rising poet, painter, dramatist, or novelist?'

'I do not advocate marriage for any man that is too susceptible or who has the artistic temperament too strongly developed. The man who is strong enough to achieve great things is strong enough to achieve them alone--that is, unless he is fortunate enough to meet the exceptional woman. Lord Byron said that nothing can inflict greater torture upon a woman than the mere fact of loving a poet. This is not due to the heartless or deliberate cruelty of the poet. He himself is to be pitied for being a martyr, the slave of art. It is the natural depth of a poet's emotions to fall in love with every lovely woman. The higher we rise in the intellectual scale, says a modern writer, the more varied, complex, and deep are the emotional groups which delight and torment the soul. Mental work does not extinguish passions; it feeds the flames, on the contrary, and unfits the brain-owner for matrimony. Only people who have uneventful, almost humdrum, lives are good subjects for matrimony and perfectly happy in marriage.'

'Then you do not admit the existence of the man who needs the quiet sympathy of a good domestic wife before his art becomes fully articulate?'

'No, because the artist constantly wants stimulants, and a domestic life is not stimulating. Now, do not misunderstand me. Marriage can make a man very happy, including the man with the strong artistic temperament, but I don't think that it helps him. I have come across hundreds of cases where artistic and literary efforts have been checked, and sometimes killed outright, by the petty cares and worries of domestic life. The brain-worker is very easily irked and tormented by the most trivial things. He is irritable and most sensitive. I have known literary men put right off their work for days simply because devoted wives came into their studies, and, after giving them an encouraging kiss, carried off their pens to make out their washing list. I have known painters whose faculties were positively benumbed by the presence of their wives. I have known dramatists who could never set to work in earnest before they had sent their families into the country or had themselves left home far behind them; and, mind you, these men were all fond of their wives.'

'You are not encouraging.'

'Will you have a cup of tea?'

'Thank you, with pleasure; but does marriage----'

'Do you take sugar?'

'If you please; but are there not cases----'

'And cream?'

'Please. Now, tell me----'

'What I think of the Paris Exposition?'

'Before I go, can't you say something nice about matrimony?'

'Yes, madame: Matrimony is highly respectable.'