The acute observer Stendhal says,—­

“In Paris, the highest praise for a marriageable girl is to say, ’She has great sweetness of character and the disposition of a lamb.’  Nothing produces more impression on fools who are looking out for wives.  I think I see the interesting couple, two years after, breakfasting together on a dull day, with three tall lackeys waiting upon them!”

And he adds, still speaking in the interest of men:—­

“Most men have a period in their career when they might do something great, a period when nothing seems impossible.  The ignorance of women spoils for the human race this magnificent opportunity:  and love, at the utmost, in these days, only inspires a young man to learn to ride well, or to make a judicious selection of a tailor."[1]

Society, however, discovers by degrees that there are conveniences in every woman’s knowing the four rules of arithmetic for herself.  Two and two come to the same amount on a butcher’s bill, whether the order be given by a man or a woman; and it is the same in all affairs or investments, financial or moral.  We shall one day learn that with laws, customs, and public affairs it is the same.  Once get it rooted in a woman’s mind, that for her, two and two make three only, and sooner or later the accounts of the whole human race fail to balance.

[Footnote 1:  De L’Amour, par de Stendhal (Henri Beyle).  Paris, 1868 [written in 1822], pp. 182, 198.]

A MODEL HOUSEHOLD

There is an African bird called the hornbill, whose habits are in some respects a model.  The female builds her nest in a hollow tree, lays her eggs, and broods on them.  So far, so good.  Then the male feels that he must also contribute some service; so he walls up the hole closely, giving only room for the point of the female’s bill to protrude.  Until the eggs are hatched, she is thenceforth confined to her nest, and is in the mean time fed assiduously by her mate, who devotes himself entirely to this object.  Dr. Livingstone has seen these nests in Africa, Layard and others in Asia, and Wallace in Sumatra.

Personally I have never seen a hornbill’s nest.  The nearest approach I ever made to it was when in Fayal I used to pass near a gloomy mansion, of which the front windows were walled up, and only one high window was visible in the rear, beyond the reach of eyes from any neighboring house.  In this cheerful abode, I was assured, a Portuguese lady had been for many years confined by her jealous husband.  It was long since any neighbor had caught a glimpse of her, but it was supposed that she was alive.  There is no reason to doubt that her husband fed her well.  It was simply a case of human hornbill, with the imprisonment made perpetual.