Honore de Balzac - The Physiology of Marriage, Complete

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That in this country decisive judgments on men and affairs are passed
round from hand to hand; and that the little cutting phrase with which
a woman criticises an author, demolishes a work, or heaps contempt on
a picture, has more power in the world than a court decision;

That women are beautiful mirrors, which naturally reflect the most
brilliant ideas;

That natural wit is everything, and the best education is gained
rather from what we learn in the world than by what we read in books;

That, above all, reading ends in making the eyes dull, etc.

To think of leaving a woman at liberty to read the books which her
character of mind may prompt her to choose! This is to drop a spark in
a powder magazine; it is worse than that, it is to teach your wife to
separate herself from you; to live in an imaginary world, in a
Paradise. For what do women read? Works of passion, the _Confessions_
of Rousseau, romances, and all those compositions which work most
powerfully on their sensibility. They like neither argument nor the
ripe fruits of knowledge. Now have you ever considered the results
which follow these poetical readings?

Romances, and indeed all works of imagination, paint sentiments and
events with colors of a very different brilliancy from those presented
by nature. The fascination of such works springs less from the desire
which each author feels to show his skill in putting forth choice and
delicate ideas than from the mysterious working of the human
intellect. It is characteristic of man to purify and refine everything
that he lays up in the treasury of his thoughts. What human faces,
what monuments of the dead are not made more beautiful than actual
nature in the artistic representation? The soul of the reader assists
in this conspiracy against the truth, either by means of the profound
silence which it enjoys in reading or by the fire of mental conception
with which it is agitated or by the clearness with which imagery is
reflected in the mirror of the understanding. Who has not seen on
reading the _Confessions_ of Jean-Jacques, that Madame de Warens is
described as much prettier than she ever was in actual life? It might
almost be said that our souls dwell with delight upon the figures
which they had met in a former existence, under fairer skies; that
they accept the creations of another soul only as wings on which they
may soar into space; features the most delicate they bring to
perfection by making them their own; and the most poetic expression
which appears in the imagery of an author brings forth still more
ethereal imagery in the mind of a reader. To read is to join with the
writer in a creative act. The mystery of the transubstantiation of
ideas, originates perhaps in the instinctive consciousness that we
have of a vocation loftier than our present destiny. Or, is it based
on the lost tradition of a former life? What must that life have been,
if this slight residuum of memory offers us such volumes of delight?

Moreover, in reading plays and romances, woman, a creature much more
susceptible than we are to excitement, experiences the most violent
transport. She creates for herself an ideal existence beside which all
reality grows pale; she at once attempts to realize this voluptuous
life, to take to herself the magic which she sees in it. And, without
knowing it, she passes from spirit to letter and from soul to sense.

And would you be simple enough to believe that the manners, the
sentiments of a man like you, who usually dress and undress before
your wife, can counterbalance the influence of these books and
outshine the glory of their fictitious lovers, in whose garments the
fair reader sees neither hole nor stain?--Poor fool! too late, alas!
for her happiness and for yours, your wife will find out that the
_heroes_ of poetry are as rare in real life as the _Apollos_ of
sculpture!

Very many husbands will find themselves embarrassed in trying to
prevent their wives from reading, yet there are certain people who
allege that reading has this advantage, that men know what their wives
are about when they have a book in hand. In the first place you will
see, in the next Meditation, what a tendency the sedentary life has to
make a woman quarrelsome; but have you never met those beings without
poetry, who succeed in petrifying their unhappy companions by reducing
life to its most mechanical elements? Study great men in their
conversation and learn by heart the admirable arguments by which they
condemn poetry and the pleasures of imagination.

But if, after all your efforts, your wife persists in wishing to read,
put at her disposal at once all possible books from the A B C of her
little boy to _Rene_, a book more dangerous to you when in her hands
than _Therese Philosophe_. You might create in her an utter disgust
for reading by giving her tedious books; and plunge her into utter
idiocy with _Marie Alacoque_, _The Brosse de Penitence_, or with the
chansons which were so fashionable in the time of Louis XV; but later
on you will find, in the present volume, the means of so thoroughly
employing your wife's time, that any kind of reading will be quite out
of the question.

And first of all, consider the immense resources which the education
of women has prepared for you in your efforts to turn your wife from
her fleeting taste for science. Just see with what admirable stupidity
girls lend themselves to reap the benefit of the education which is
imposed upon them in France; we give them in charge to nursery maids,
to companions, to governesses who teach them twenty tricks of coquetry
and false modesty, for every single noble and true idea which they
impart to them. Girls are brought up as slaves, and are accustomed to
the idea that they are sent into the world to imitate their
grandmothers, to breed canary birds, to make herbals, to water little
Bengal rose-bushes, to fill in worsted work, or to put on collars.
Moreover, if a little girl in her tenth year has more refinement than
a boy of twenty, she is timid and awkward. She is frightened at a
spider, chatters nonsense, thinks of dress, talks about the fashions
and has not the courage to be either a watchful mother or a chaste
wife.

Notice what progress she had made; she has been shown how to paint
roses, and to embroider ties in such a way as to earn eight sous a
day. She has learned the history of France in _Ragois_ and chronology
in the _Tables du Citoyen Chantreau_, and her young imagination has
been set free in the realm of geography; all without any aim,
excepting that of keeping away all that might be dangerous to her
heart; but at the same time her mother and her teachers repeat with
unwearied voice the lesson, that the whole science of a woman lies in
knowing how to arrange the fig leaf which our Mother Eve wore. "She
does not hear for fifteen years," says Diderot, "anything else but 'my
daughter, your fig leaf is on badly; my daughter, your fig leaf is on
well; my daughter, would it not look better so?'"

Keep your wife then within this fine and noble circle of knowledge. If
by chance your wife wishes to have a library, buy for her Florian,
Malte-Brun, _The Cabinet des Fees_, _The Arabian Nights_, Redoute's
_Roses_, _The Customs of China_, _The Pigeons_, by Madame Knip, the
great work on Egypt, etc. Carry out, in short, the clever suggestion
of that princess who, when she was told of a riot occasioned by the
dearness of bread, said, "Why don't they eat cake?"

Perhaps, one evening, your wife will reproach you for being sullen and
not speaking to her; perhaps she will say that you are ridiculous,
when you have just made a pun; but this is one of the slight
annoyances incident to our system; and, moreover, what does it matter
to you that the education of women in France is the most pleasant of
absurdities, and that your marital obscurantism has brought a doll to
your arms? As you have not sufficient courage to undertake a fairer
task, would it not be better to lead your wife along the beaten track
of married life in safety, than to run the risk of making her scale
the steep precipices of love? She is likely to be a mother: you must
not exactly expect to have Gracchi for sons, but to be really _pater
quem nuptiae demonstrant_; now, in order to aid you in reaching this
consummation, we must make this book an arsenal from which each one,
in accordance with his wife's character and his own, may choose
weapons fit to employ against the terrible genius of evil, which is
always ready to rise up in the soul of a wife; and since it may fairly
be considered that the ignorant are the most cruel opponents of
feminine education, this Meditation will serve as a breviary for the
majority of husbands.

If a woman has received a man's education, she possesses in very truth
the most brilliant and most fertile sources of happiness both to
herself and to her husband; but this kind of woman is as rare as
happiness itself; and if you do not possess her for your wife, your
best course is to confine the one you do possess, for the sake of your
common felicity, to the region of ideas she was born in, for you must
not forget that one moment of pride in her might destroy you, by
setting on the throne a slave who would immediately be tempted to
abuse her power.

After all, by following the system prescribed in this Meditation, a
man of superiority will be relieved from the necessity of putting his
thoughts into small change, when he wishes to be understood by his
wife, if indeed this man of superiority has been guilty of the folly
of marrying one of those poor creatures who cannot understand him,
instead of choosing for his wife a young girl whose mind and heart he
has tested and studied for a considerable time.

Our aim in this last matrimonial observation has not been to advise
all men of superiority to seek for women of superiority and we do not
wish each one to expound our principles after the manner of Madame de
Stael, who attempted in the most indelicate manner to effect a union
between herself and Napoleon. These two beings would have been very
unhappy in their domestic life; and Josephine was a wife accomplished
in a very different sense from this virago of the nineteenth century.

And, indeed, when we praise those undiscoverable girls so happily
educated by chance, so well endowed by nature, whose delicate souls
endure so well the rude contact of the great soul of him we call _a
man_, we mean to speak of those rare and noble creatures of whom
Goethe has given us a model in his Claire of _Egmont_; we are thinking
of those women who seek no other glory than that of playing their part
well; who adapt themselves with amazing pliancy to the will and
pleasure of those whom nature has given them for masters; soaring at
one time into the boundless sphere of their thought and in turn
stooping to the simple task of amusing them as if they were children;
understanding well the inconsistencies of masculine and violent souls,
understanding also their slightest word, their most puzzling looks;
happy in silence, happy also in the midst of loquacity; and well aware
that the pleasures, the ideas and the moral instincts of a Lord Byron
cannot be those of a bonnet-maker. But we must stop; this fair picture
has led us too far from our subject; we are treating of marriage and
not of love.

MEDITATION XII.

THE HYGIENE OF MARRIAGE.

The aim of this Meditation is to call to your attention a new method
of defence, by which you may reduce the will of your new wife to a
condition of utter and abject submission. This is brought about by the
reaction upon her moral nature of physical changes, and the wise
lowering of her physical condition by a diet skillfully controlled.

This great and philosophical question of conjugal medicine will
doubtless be regarded favorably by all who are gouty, are impotent, or
suffer from catarrh; and by that legion of old men whose dullness we
have quickened by our article on the predestined. But it principally
concerns those husbands who have courage enough to enter into those
paths of machiavelism, such as would not have been unworthy of that
great king of France who endeavored to secure the happiness of the
nation at the expense of certain noble heads. Here, the subject is the
same. The amputation or the weakening of certain members is always to
the advantage of the whole body.

Do you think seriously that a celibate who has been subject to a diet
consisting of the herb hanea, of cucumbers, of purslane and the
applications of leeches to his ears, as recommended by Sterne, would
be able to carry by storm the honor of your wife? Suppose that a
diplomat had been clever enough to affix a permanent linen plaster to
the head of Napoleon, or to purge him every morning: Do you think that
Napoleon, Napoleon the Great, would ever have conquered Italy? Was
Napoleon, during his campaign in Russia, a prey to the most horrible
pangs of dysuria, or was he not? That is one of the questions which
has weighed upon the minds of the whole world. Is it not certain that
cooling applications, douches, baths, etc., produce great changes in
more or less acute affections of the brain? In the middle of the heat
of July when each one of your pores slowly filters out and returns to
the devouring atmosphere the glasses of iced lemonade which you have
drunk at a single draught, have you ever felt the flame of courage,
the vigor of thought, the complete energy which rendered existence
light and sweet to you some months before?

No, no; the iron most closely cemented into the hardest stone will
raise and throw apart the most durable monument, by reason of the
secret influence exercised by the slow and invisible variations of
heat and cold, which vex the atmosphere. In the first place, let us be
sure that if atmospheric mediums have an influence over man, there is
still a stronger reason for believing that man, in turn, influences
the imagination of his kind, by the more or less vigor with which he
projects his will and thus produces a veritable atmosphere around him.

It is in this fact that the power of the actor's talent lies, as well
as that of poetry and of fanaticism; for the former is the eloquence
of words, as the latter is the eloquence of actions; and in this lies
the foundation of a science, so far in its infancy.

This will, so potent in one man against another, this nervous and
fluid force, eminently mobile and transmittable, is itself subject to
the changing condition of our organization, and there are many
circumstances which make this frail organism of ours to vary. At this
point, our metaphysical observation shall stop and we will enter into
an analysis of the circumstances which develop the will of man and
impart to it a grater degree of strength or weakness.

Do not believe, however, that it is our aim to induce you to put
cataplasms on the honor of your wife, to lock her up in a sweating
house, or to seal her up like a letter; no. We will not even attempt
to teach you the magnetic theory which would give you the power to
make your will triumph in the soul of your wife; there is not a single
husband who would accept the happiness of an eternal love at the price
of this perpetual strain laid upon his animal forces. But we shall
attempt to expound a powerful system of hygiene, which will enable you
to put out the flame when your chimney takes fire. The elegant women
of Paris and the provinces (and these elegant women form a very
distinguished class among the honest women) have plenty of means of
attaining the object which we propose, without rummaging in the
arsenal of medicine for the four cold specifics, the water-lily and
the thousand inventions worthy only of witches. We will leave to
Aelian his herb hanea and to Sterne the purslane and cucumber which
indicate too plainly his antiphlogistic purpose.

You should let your wife recline all day long on soft armchairs, in
which she sinks into a veritable bath of eiderdown or feathers; you
should encourage in every way that does no violence to your
conscience, the inclination which women have to breathe no other air
but the scented atmosphere of a chamber seldom opened, where daylight
can scarcely enter through the soft, transparent curtains.

You will obtain marvelous results from this system, after having
previously experienced the shock of her excitement; but if you are
strong enough to support this momentary transport of your wife you
will soon see her artificial energy die away. In general, women love
to live fast, but, after their tempest of passion, return to that
condition of tranquillity which insures the happiness of a husband.

Jean-Jacques, through the instrumentality of his enchanting Julie,
must have proved to your wife that it was infinitely becoming to
refrain from affronting her delicate stomach and her refined palate by
making chyle out of coarse lumps of beef, and enormous collops of
mutton. Is there anything purer in the world than those interesting
vegetables, always fresh and scentless, those tinted fruits, that
coffee, that fragrant chocolate, those oranges, the golden apples of
Atalanta, the dates of Arabia and the biscuits of Brussels, a
wholesome and elegant food which produces satisfactory results, at the
same time that it imparts to a woman an air of mysterious originality?
By the regimen which she chooses she becomes quite celebrated in her
immediate circle, just as she would be by a singular toilet, a
benevolent action or a _bon mot_. Pythagoras must needs have cast his
spell over her, and become as much petted by her as a poodle or an
ape.

Never commit the imprudence of certain men who, for the sake of
putting on the appearance of wit, controvert the feminine dictum,
_that the figure is preserved by meagre diet_. Women on such a diet
never grow fat, that is clear and positive; do you stick to that.

Praise the skill with which some women, renowned for their beauty,
have been able to preserve it by bathing themselves in milk, several
times a day, or in water compounded of substances likely to render the
skin softer and to lower the nervous tension.

Advise her above all things to refrain from washing herself in cold
water; because water warm or tepid is the proper thing for all kinds
of ablutions.

Let Broussais be your idol. At the least indisposition of your wife,
and on the slightest pretext, order the application of leeches; do not
even shrink from applying from time to time a few dozen on yourself,
in order to establish the system of that celebrated doctor in your
household. You will constantly be called upon from your position as
husband to discover that your wife is too ruddy; try even sometimes to
bring the blood to her head, in order to have the right to introduce
into the house at certain intervals a squad of leeches.

Your wife ought to drink water, lightly tinged with a Burgundy wine
agreeable to her taste, but destitute of any tonic properties; every
other kind of wine would be bad for her. Never allow her to drink
water alone; if you do, you are lost.

"Impetuous fluid! As soon as you press against the floodgates of the
brain, how quickly do they yield to your power! Then Curiosity comes
swimming by, making signs to her companions to follow; they plunge
into the current. Imagination sits dreaming on the bank. She follows
the torrent with her eyes and transforms the fragments of straw and
reed into masts and bowsprit. And scarcely has the transformation
taken place, before Desire, holding in one hand her skirt drawn up
even to her knees, appears, sees the vessel and takes possession of
it. O ye drinkers of water, it is by means of that magic spring that
you have so often turned and turned again the world at your will,
throwing beneath your feet the weak, trampling on his neck, and
sometimes changing even the form and aspect of nature!"

If by this system of inaction, in combination with our system of diet,
you fail to obtain satisfactory results, throw yourself with might and
main into another system, which we will explain to you.

Man has a certain degree of energy given to him. Such and such a man
or woman stands to another as ten is to thirty, as one to five; and
there is a certain degree of energy which no one of us ever exceeds.
The quantity of energy, or willpower, which each of us possesses
diffuses itself like sound; it is sometimes weak, sometimes strong; it
modifies itself according to the octaves to which it mounts. This
force is unique, and although it may be dissipated in desire, in
passion, in toils of intellect or in bodily exertion, it turns towards
the object to which man directs it. A boxer expends it in blows of the
fist, the baker in kneading his bread, the poet in the enthusiasm
which consumes and demands an enormous quantity of it; it passes to
the feet of the dancer; in fact, every one diffuses it at will, and
may I see the Minotaur tranquilly seated this very evening upon my
bed, if you do not know as well as I do how he expends it. Almost all
men spend in necessary toils, or in the anguish of direful passions,
this fine sum of energy and of will, with which nature has endowed
them; but our honest women are all the prey to the caprices and the
struggles of this power which knows not what to do with itself. If, in
the case of your wife, this energy has not been subdued by the
prescribed dietary regimen, subject her to some form of activity which
will constantly increase in violence. Find some means by which her sum
of force which inconveniences you may be carried off, by some
occupation which shall entirely absorb her strength. Without setting
your wife to work the crank of a machine, there are a thousand ways of
tiring her out under the load of constant work.

In leaving it to you to find means for carrying out our design--and
these means vary with circumstances--we would point out that dancing
is one of the very best abysses in which love may bury itself. This
point having been very well treated by a contemporary, we will give
him here an opportunity of speaking his mind:

"The poor victim who is the admiration of an enchanted audience
pays dear for her success. What result can possibly follow on
exertions so ill-proportioned to the resources of the delicate
sex? The muscles of the body, disproportionately wearied, are
forced to their full power of exertion. The nervous forces,
intended to feed the fire of passions, and the labor of the brain,
are diverted from their course. The failure of desire, the wish
for rest, the exclusive craving for substantial food, all point to
a nature impoverished, more anxious to recruit than to enjoy.
Moreover, a denizen of the side scenes said to me one day,
'Whoever has lived with dancers has lived with sheep; for in their
exhaustion they can think of nothing but strong food.' Believe me,
then, the love which a ballet girl inspires is very delusive; in
her we find, under an appearance of an artificial springtime, a
soil which is cold as well as greedy, and senses which are utterly
dulled. The Calabrian doctors prescribed the dance as a remedy for
the hysteric affections which are common among the women of their
country; and the Arabs use a somewhat similar recipe for the
highbred mares, whose too lively temperament hinders their
fecundity. 'Dull as a dancer' is a familiar proverb at the
theatre. In fact, the best brains of Europe are convinced that
dancing brings with it a result eminently cooling.

"In support of this it may be necessary to add other observations.
The life of shepherds gives birth to irregular loves. The morals
of weavers were horribly decried in Greece. The Italians have
given birth to a proverb concerning the lubricity of lame women.
The Spanish, in whose veins are found many mixtures of African
incontinence, have expressed their sentiments in a maxim which is
familiar with them: _Muger y gallina pierna quebrantada_ [it is
good that a woman and a hen have one broken leg]. The profound
sagacity of the Orientals in the art of pleasure is altogether
expressed by this ordinance of the caliph Hakim, founder of the
Druses, who forbade, under pain of death, the making in his
kingdom of any shoes for women. It seems that over the whole
globe the tempests of the heart wait only to break out after the
limbs are at rest!"

What an admirable manoeuvre it would be to make a wife dance, and to
feed her on vegetables!

Do not believe that these observations, which are as true as they are
wittily stated, contradict in any way the system which we have
previously prescribed; by the latter, as by the former, we succeed in
producing in a woman that needed listlessness, which is the pledge of
repose and tranquility. By the latter you leave a door open, that the
enemy may flee; by the former, you slay him.

Now at this point it seems to us that we hear timorous people and
those of narrow views rising up against our idea of hygiene in the
name of morality and sentiment.

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