it's like when you're married。〃
My friend H。 G。 Wells wrote a book； 〃The Island of Dr。 Moreau。〃 I
read it in MS。 one winter evening in a lonely country house upon the
hills； wind screaming to wind in the dark without。 The story has
haunted me ever since。 I hear the wind's shrill laughter。 The
doctor had taken the beasts of the forest； apes； tigers； strange
creatures from the deep； had fashioned them with hideous cruelty into
the shapes of men； had given them souls； had taught to them the law。
In all things else were they human； but their original instincts
their creator's skill had failed to eliminate。 All their lives were
one long torture。 The Law said； 〃We are men and women； this we shall
do； this we shall not do。〃 But the ape and tiger still cried aloud
within them。
Civilization lays her laws upon us； they are the laws of godsof the
men that one day； perhaps； shall come。 But the primeval creature of
the cave still cries within us。
＇A few rules for Married Happiness。＇
The wonder is that not being godsbeing mere men and womenmarriage
works out as well as it does。 We take two creatures with the
instincts of the ape still stirring within them； two creatures
fashioned on the law of selfishness； two self…centred creatures of
opposite appetites； of desires opposed to one another； of differing
moods and fancies； two creatures not yet taught the lesson of self…
control； of self…renunciation； and bind them together for life in an
union so close that one cannot snore o'nights without disturbing the
other's rest； that one cannot； without risk to happiness； have a
single taste unshared by the other； that neither； without danger of
upsetting the whole applecart； so to speak； can have an opinion with
which the other does not heartedly agree。
Could two angels exist together on such terms without ever
quarrelling？ I doubt it。 To make marriage the ideal we love to
picture it in romance； the elimination of human nature is the first
essential。 Supreme unselfishness； perfect patience； changeless
amiability； we should have to start with； and continue with； until
the end。
＇The real Darby and Joan。＇
I do not believe in the 〃Darby and Joan〃 of the song。 They belong to
song…land。 To accept them I need a piano； a sympathetic contralto
voice； a firelight effect； and that sentimental mood in myself； the
foundation of which is a good dinner well digested。 But there are
Darbys and Joans of real flesh and blood to be met withGod bless
them； and send more for our examplewholesome living men and women；
brave； struggling； souls with common…sense。 Ah； yes！ they have
quarrelled； had their dark house of bitterness； of hate； when he
wished to heaven he had never met her； and told her so。 How could he
have guessed those sweet lips could utter such cruel words； those
tender eyes； he loved to kiss； flash with scorn and anger？
And she； had she known what lay behind； those days when he knelt
before her； swore that his only dream was to save her from all pain。
Passion lies dead； it is a flame that burns out quickly。 The most
beautiful face in the world grows indifferent to us when we have sat
opposite it every morning at breakfast； every evening at supper； for
a brief year or two。 Passion is the seed。 Love grows from it； a
tender sapling； beautiful to look upon； but wondrous frail； easily
broken； easily trampled on during those first years of wedded life。
Only by much nursing； by long caring…for； watered with tears； shall
it grow into a sturdy tree； defiant of the winds； 'neath which Darby
and Joan shall sit sheltered in old age。
They had commonsense； brave hearts。 Darby had expected too much。
Darby had not made allowance for human nature which he ought to have
done； seeing how much he had of it himself。 Joan knows he did not
mean it。 Joan has a nasty temper； she admits it。 Joan will try；
Darby will try。 They kiss again with tears。 It is a workaday world；
Darby and Joan will take it as it is； will do their best。 A little
kindness； a little clasping of the hands before night comes。
＇Many ways of Love＇
Youth deems it heresy； but I sometimes wonder if our English speaking
way is quite the best。 I discussed the subject once with an old
French lady。 The English reader forms his idea of French life from
the French novel； it leads to mistaken notions。 There are French
Darbys； French Joans； many thousands of them。
〃Believe me；〃 said my old French friend； 〃your English way is wrong；
our way is not perfect； but it is the better； I am sure。 You leave
it entirely to the young people。 What do they know of life； of
themselves； even。 He falls in love with a pretty face。 Shehe
danced so well！ he was so agreeable that day of the picnic！ If
marriage were only for a month or so； could be ended without harm
when the passion was burnt out。 Ah； yes！ then perhaps you would be
right。 I loved at eighteen； madlynearly broke my heart。 I meet
him occasionally now。 My dear〃her hair was silvery white； and I
was only thirty…five； she always called me 〃my dear〃； it is pleasant
at thirty…five to be talked to as a child。 〃He was a perfect brute；
handsome he had been； yes； but all that was changed。 He was as
stupid as an ox。 I never see his poor frightened…looking wife
without shuddering thinking of what I have escaped。 They told me all
that； but I looked only at his face； and did not believe them。 They
forced me into marriage with the kindest man that ever lived。 I did
not love him then； but I loved him for thirty years； was it not
better？〃
〃But； my dear friend；〃 I answered； 〃that poor； frightened…looking
wife of your first love！ Her marriage also was； I take it； the
result of parental choosing。 The love marriage； I admit； as often as
not turns out sadly。 The children choose ill。 Parents also choose
ill。 I fear there is no sure receipt for the happy marriage。〃
〃You are arguing from bad examples；〃 answered my silver…haired
friend； 〃it is the system that I am defending。 A young girl is no
judge of character。 She is easily deceived； is wishful to be
deceived。 As I have said； she does not even know herself。 She
imagines the mood of the moment will remain with her。 Only those who
have watched over her with loving insight from her infancy know her
real temperament。
〃The young man is blinded by his passion。 Nature knows nothing of
marriage； of companionship。 She has only one aim。 That
accomplished； she is indifferent to the future of those she has
joined together。 I would have parents think only of their children's
happiness； giving to worldly considerations their true value； but
nothing beyond； choosing for their children with loving care； with
sense of their great responsibility。〃
＇Which is it？＇
〃I fear our young people would not be contented with our choosing；〃 I
suggested。
〃Are they so contented with their own； the honeymoon over？〃 she
responded with a smile。
We agreed it was a difficult problem viewed from any point。
But I still think it would be better were we to heap less ridicule
upon the institution。 Matrimony cannot be 〃holy〃 and ridiculous at
the same time。 We have been familiar with it long enough to make up
our minds in which light to regard it。
CHAPTER XIX
＇Man and his Tailor。＇
What's wrong with the 〃Made…up Tie〃？ I gather from the fashionable
novelist that no man can wear a made…up tie and be a gentleman。 He
may be a worthy man； clever； well…to…do； eligible from every other
point of view； but She； the refined heroine； can never get over the
fact that he wears a made…up tie。 It causes a shudder down her high…
bred spine whenever she thinks of it。 There is nothing else to be
said against him。 There is nothing worse about him than thishe
wears a made…up tie。 It is all sufficient。 No true woman could ever
care for him； no really classy society ever open its doors to him。
I am worried about this thing because； to confess the horrid truth； I
wear a made…up tie myself。 On foggy afternoons I steal out of the
house disguised。 They ask me where I am going in a hat that comes
down over my ears； and why I am wearing blue spectacles and a false
beard； but I will not tell them。 I creep along the wall till I find
a common hosier's shop； and then； in an assumed voice； I tell the man
what it is I want。 They come to fourpence halfpenny each； by taking
the half…dozen I get them for a trifle less。 They are put on in a
moment； and； to my vulgar eye； look neat and tasteful。
Of course； I know I am not a gentleman。 I have given up hopes of
ever being one。 Years ago； when life presented possibilities； I
thought that with pains and intelligence I might become one。 I never
succeeded。 It all depends on being able to tie a bow。 Round the
bed…post； or the neck of the water…jug； I could tie the wretched
thing to perfection。 If only the bed…post or the water…jug could
have taken my place and gone to the party instead of me； life would
have been simpler。 The bed…post and the water…jug； in its neat white
bow； looked like a gentlemanthe fas