Marriage and Poetry.—Marriage blunts the imagination. A married writer of fiction must hold Hymen in check, or weary his readers; and poetry is almost irreconcilable with the state of wedlock. Schiller observes, that one cannot woo his wife and the muses; and there is, no doubt, much philosophy in the assumption. Thus it would seem that poetry is the escape of love when not otherwise directed.
Marriage blunts the imagination? This man was making marriage sound terrible. Sophie continued reading.
Ideas of Beauty.—Men of poetical or sanguine temperament prefer the beauty of the face. Those of stronger animal propensities, the beauty of form. The latter make the most attentive husbands, as they are most content with the realities in life.
Beauty of face? Of form? Sophie sighed. Ally had both. Sophie, though, was plain, in face and in form. Her hair was a dull gold as opposed to Ally’s lustrous chestnut brown. And her body? Ally was tall, with curves in all the right places and a voluptuous bosom. Sophie was shorter, her breasts not nearly as large, and her figure lean, not curvy.
If what this book said was true, no man would want her.
Violation.—Conception cannot take place under feelings of horror or disgust. Hence, no woman ever became pregnant from a rape committed on her against her inclination.
Odd, that statement. Sophie knew of women who had become pregnant after forced encounters. Did this mean that those women had actually wanted the encounter? This man had written it, and although she knew nothing of his qualifications, the book had been published. She would have to ask Ally about that.
Matrimonial Regret.—Men are liable to regret their marriage on the morning after its consummation, and to sigh for the freedom they have lost. But this is only an evanescent feeling, partially attributable to the fact, that, at the commencement the realities of love are usually found to be unequal to the anticipations. A week corrects this uneasiness, and contentment mostly occurs before the end of the honey moon.
Matrimonial regret… Why did men marry if they were going to regret it afterward? Was it possible for women to regret marriage also?
Transfer of Passion.—Love is partially the effect of mental, but more so of physical feeling. This is especially the case with men; and hence, when they despair of the consummation of one passion, they can always relieve it, or escape from it altogether by nourishing another.
Physical feeling? Physical feeling had dominated Sophie’s afternoon with Mr. Newland. Did this mean she was falling in love with him? This book was not answering any of her questions. In fact, it was only giving her new ones.
Longing for Marriage.—Young unmarried ladies, from the time they arrive at the age of puberty, think and talk about little besides love, and its attributes. Young men, however, though they have other objects of pursuit, are more carried away by the passion. When crossed in love, a woman becomes melancholy, a man insane.
Sophie had no disagreement there. She’d been longing for marriage forever, even coming from a home where her only example of marriage was abusive and intolerable. Resigning herself to spinsterhood had taken a lot of strength. Now, after she’d accepted it, along came Mr. Newland.
She closed the book, and then, on a whim, opened in again in the middle.
Many physicians of high authority have maintained, that two-thirds of the diseases to which the human race is liable, have had their origin in certain solitary practices; or to call things by their proper names—for I wish to make myself, thoroughly understood, so that I may not weaken the effect of what I am about to say, by catering to an affectation of false modesty—in onanism and masterbation. Some writers use the terms synonymously; others apply the first to the act in males, and the latter in females; and for the sake of perspicuity I shall follow the second rule. I say that many physicians of high authority have maintained, that two-thirds of the diseases to which the human race is liable, have had their origin in these habits. I cannot go so far as this; but I am convinced that they entail great calamities on all who indulge in them to excess, and that consumption, impotence, and lunacy, are among their fearful effects.
Oh, she could read no more! How horrid that people might…touch themselves and, in so doing, destroy themselves.
She was now more confused than ever. Her mind was jumbled. Monsieur Becklard was certainly no help. She wanted to go back to the library to see if she could find a more helpful volume, but fatigue had descended upon her. This day had been…consuming.
As she prepared to summon her maid to help her ready for slumber, a knock sounded on her door.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sophie opened the door to find Hannah standing there.
“Hannah, dear, I was just about to summon you. I wish to get ready for bed.”
Hannah curtsied. “Of course, my lady, but I was coming to tell you that a message has been delivered for you.” The maid held out a parchment.
Another message? Two in one day? Very odd. “Thank you very much.” Sophie tore open the parchment.
You will be mine.
She widened her eyes, and her pulse quickened.
“Is anything wrong, my lady?” Hannah asked.
Sophie shook her head, biting her lip. “No, no. Nothing.” She folded the parchment and laid it on her night table. Most likely it was Mr. Newland—Zach—indicating his hope that she would take the role in the musicale. No need to worry, despite the hairs on her forearms standing on end.
?
??Hannah, please prepare me a bath.”
* * *