The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 07, No. 43, May, 1861 Creator eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 310 pages of information about The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 07, No. 43, May, 1861 Creator.

The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 07, No. 43, May, 1861 Creator eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 310 pages of information about The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 07, No. 43, May, 1861 Creator.
the future time at all.  A bee, you know, cannot see more than a single inch before it; and there are many men, and perhaps more women, who appear, as regards their domestic concerns, to be very much of bees:  not bees in the respect of being busy; but bees in the respect of being blind.  You see this in all ranks of life.  You see it in the artisan, earning good wages, yet with every prospect of being weeks out of work next summer or winter, who yet will not be persuaded to lay by a little in preparation for a rainy day.  You see it in the country gentleman, who, having five thousand a year; spends ten thousand a year; resolutely shutting his eyes to the certain and not very remote consequences.  You see it in the man who walks into a shop and buys a lot of things which he has not the money to pay for, in the vague hope that something will turn up.  It is a comparatively thoughtful and anxious class of men who systematically overcloud the present by anticipations of the future.  The more usual thing is to sacrifice the future to the present; to grasp at what in the way of present gratification or gain can be got, with very little thought of the consequences.  You see silly women, the wives of men whose families are mainly dependent on their lives, constantly urging on their husbands to extravagances which eat up the little provision which might have been made for themselves and their children when he is gone who earned their bread.  There is no sadder sight, I think, than that which is not a very uncommon sight, the careworn, anxious husband, laboring beyond his strength, often sorrowfully calculating how he may make the ends to meet, denying himself in every way; and the extravagant idiot of a wife, bedizened with jewelry and arrayed in velvet and lace, who tosses away his hard earnings in reckless extravagance; in entertainments which he cannot afford, given to people who do not care a rush for him; in preposterous dress; in absurd furniture; in needless men-servants; in green-grocers above measure; in resolute aping of the way of living of people with twice or three times the means.  It is sad to see all the forethought, prudence, and moderation of the wedded pair confined to one of them.  You would say that it will not be any solid consolation to the widow, when the husband is fairly worried into his grave at last,—­when his daughters have to go out as governesses, and she has to let lodgings,—­to reflect that while he lived they never failed to have Champagne at his dinner-parties; and that they had three men to wait at table on such occasions, while Mr. Smith, next door, had never more than one and a maidservant.  If such idiotic women would but look forward, and consider how all this must end!  If the professional man spends all he earns, what remains when the supply is cut off; when the toiling head and hand can toil no more?  Ah, a little of the economy and management which must perforce be practised after that might have tended powerfully
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The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 07, No. 43, May, 1861 Creator from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.