Papers from Overlook-House

XII.

MRS. DIGBY'S ECONOMY. 1

"Father," said one of Mr. Digby's children, just let loose from school, and fluttering about as if on the eve of a great flight of play, – "father, look at my copy-book."

The face of the one thus appealed to, which generally bore a care-worn look, relaxed into an attentive and gentle interest. He gave the labored page the appropriate scrutiny. When the right of criticism was thus justly earned, he bestowed due meed of praise. In line after line he read, ECONOMY IS WEALTH.

The children soon left him, and he turned down a path leading to the gate. All the way he repeated in various intonations of voice, the tones changing with various trains of thought, economy is wealth.

He said to himself, "Who was the great inventor of that most absurd of proverbs? Economy is wealth. Nonsense! The man who first spoke that sentence, never had a saving wife. Economy wealth! Pooh! Pooh! I say, economy is poverty.

"Our house is full of economy. The more it becomes a bank full of that article, so ridiculously misrepresented, the more poor I am. We have a great linen-closet, never opened for use, full of economy. We have a garret where economy is packed away. There are things ancient and modern, big and little, shining and rusty, known and unknown, bought as bargains, and patiently waiting under loads of dust to become useful, and to save us several fortunes. There is a huge chest of economy in the entry near the spare room door. It contains plated ware, spoons, urns, tea-pots, toast-racks, branches for candle-sticks, all ready for use some fifty years hence, when we shall give parties to the fashionable people in our village, increased from eight or ten to one hundred.

"And there is the fat boy in the kitchen, who was to save me from the cost of hiring a man to cut my wood, and dig the garden, and who was to wear my old clothes. Now he is so corpulent that he cannot get into my coats or pantaloons. If there be a tide which takes out everything, and brings in nothing, then it is economy. Yes. Economy is wealth."

Now Mrs. Digby was a great domestic statesman. Her husband had been leading a life of married astonishment. There seemed to be no end to the resources of her diplomacy. Her reasons for any departure from her ordinary expenditures, were versatile and profound.

One principle behind which the good lady invariably entrenched herself, was the impregnable one, that she never bought anything unless it was under the promptings of a strict necessity. "I never buy anything not strictly necessary, Mr. Digby," was the oil she poured on the troubled waters of the mind of her husband.

Now the man whose intellect was not able to comprehend the curious principles that regulated his household, declared that he never saw anything so comprehensive as this theory of necessity. It appeared to him to be the only law on the earth or among the stars which had no exceptions. And all these necessities, were a great perplexity under another aspect. They were all matters of life and death. If the coat of the little girl faded in a slight degree, a new one – if Mrs. Digby said so – was so necessary, that it was evident that an earthquake would come, or the sun turn aside from his path, with consequences of unending disaster, unless her will was transformed into actual ribbons, and merino, or silk, or velvet. And what was equally surprising, it sometimes happened, that before one necessity could thus be removed, another arose; and the first was forgotten. The earthquake was somehow prevented. The sun did not alter his course. It was a strange mystery.

It happened after they had been married a short time, that Mrs. Digby expected a visit from some friends.

"My dear," she said, "you will be so pleased with them. I would not think of treating them with any great ceremony, if it was not that they have never seen our house. First impressions are very strong. I never forget the pitcher, towels, and basin in the room where I slept, when I made a visit to the Elders. Nothing could ever eradicate from my mind the belief, that she is not as good a house-keeper as she should be. No, it would not change my mind on that point, if I was to see her in a house, where everything was cut out of newly fallen snow.

"Now, my dear, as these friends are to form their first impressions of my house, I am under the necessity of having everything very nice for them. I shall go to the expense of buying a few articles. And then our meals must be a little more particular than when we are alone. But we will make all up by increased economy. Yes, we will save all the increased expense in various ways. First impressions are so powerful. The first impressions of these friends must be favorable."

This all seemed to be very natural to Mr. Digby. But his surprise was great when he discovered that this theory of first impressions on the part of visitors, went on for years. The great portion of those who came to see them, were persons who were to receive first impressions. The Nobbs, the Stowells, the Campbells, the Lambs, and a host of others came, and all were to receive their first impressions. After ten years the theory was still in existence. As soon as Mr. Digby heard of a new comer, then the theory was the first thing in his mind.

And when any of the friends repeated a visit, Mrs. Digby had a pleasant piece of information to impart to her lord and master. She had heard that Mrs. Snobbs, for instance, had said, that their house was kept in a state of perfection. She had been in ecstacies over the appearance of the furniture, and thought the table such as would tempt one to eat who had lost all appetite. Of course, it would never do to allow her to come, and have the first impressions changed. That would be coming down to a most painful extent. It could never be. Some old furniture must therefore be displaced by some new purchases. And then their table must be a little more richly served. Indeed, it would be rather advantageous to have things a little better than in former times. Former impressions would lead her to expect some advance.

–this time Mr. Digby was again much perplexed. His wife received a present of three hundred dollars from an aunt. The good lady was quite triumphant, and now appeared to think, that anything but economy was not practicable. The old theory of necessity now came in like a torrent. The good husband had read of crops which sprang up in some portions of the earth, in a wonderful manner. He had heard of the plants in some of our warm climes which grew under a few suns in certain seasons, in a way which seems incredible to us who live in this northern land. But never did he imagine that anything could ever equal the sudden growth of necessities in his house, since the good aunt had sent the present. Necessity met you everywhere. It haunted you in every room. You trod upon it when you stepped upon the old carpet, or the old oil-cloth. You could not come near the window but it met you.

We must have new curtains for our parlor-windows.

But, Mr. Digby suggested, daring to run a tilt, madman as he was, against necessity, that irresistible giant, who has a perfect covering of impenetrable mail, – the expense. Think of my present, said the lady, offering terms as a conquering general would offer them to a prostrate foe. I will give of my present a great part of the expense.

So the curtains were bought. They were put up, and Mrs. Digby was as happy as Mr. Digby was dejected and miserable.

Then the good lady discovered that the porch must be taken down, and a piazza erected. Her lord said it was impossible. Here again was he foolish enough to place his impossibility as an opponent to her necessity. She would pay for a portion of the cost out of the money which was sent her by her aunt. But Mr. Digby said that he had several debts to pay, and knew not how to meet them.

Poor man! He here made a most disastrous movement of his forces. The able general opposed to him, was too much gifted with military genius to lose sight of the proffered advantage.

Did he expect that she was to pay his debts out of the present made her by her aunt? No such thing. Her dear aunt manifestly intended that the money should be spent for her special comfort. She could read him the letter. She intended, as that kind epistle taught, that her niece should expend it in some way that would personally gratify herself. She never intended that it should be swallowed up in the ordinary expenditures of the house.

So she ingeniously carried her day, for discomfiting Mr. Digby, on the ground that he had proposed to her that she should pay his debts, which, however, it will be observed he had not done, – for he had only remonstrated against new expenditures before his old debts were expunged, – she wisely made the two questions one. As he had to retire from the field on the question of battle, as insisted on by her, despite of all his pleas to the contrary, – she took for granted that the subject of the new piazza was involved in the one issue. So the piazza was erected.

Some time after this, one of her friends wished to dispose of a new carriage, or one almost as good as new. Mrs. Digby described it in glowing terms. And then she said that she could have it at a great reduction in the price. If the fish knew that the hook was near, as well as Mr. Digby knew that the cord and hook were dangling around to secure him for a prey, – no fish would ever be caught.

It was astonishing what an eloquence Mrs. Digby could throw into such a statement. It was not merely that she was eloquent when she described the carriage. The picture she drew of the comfort in which she and her lord would appear, – nay their increased elegance and respectability, was one which could not have been surpassed. Then there was a happy contrast presented between the proposed new equipage, and their present homely wagon, in which they had of late years jogged along in a contented way, which proved that their ideas of what was desirable were in need of improvement.

The master-power of her eloquence did not, however, here appear in its highest manifestations. No, it was revealed when the simple description of the carriage, conveyed to the mind of the hearer, the idea that if he did not most earnestly desire to purchase it, he must be a man fit for treason, stratagems, and spoils. The reproof was carried to the heart through terrors, which in themselves seemed incapable of any such power. Those who are ignorant of such feminine power, would as soon expect the rays of the sun to bring with them the food needful for their sustenance. And when she referred to the old carriage, Mr. Digby felt as if his conscience was indeed disturbed. There were two statements addressed to him. One referred to the homely nature of the wagon. The other said, if you could allow a woman who has been a faithful wife, – a woman who has shared your fortunes for fifteen years, – who has never spared herself to order her household well, – who is the mother of seven children of whom you are very proud, – to crown all, – who has practised for fifteen years in your house, in the most untiring manner the most exact, and even unreasonable economy, – buying only what she has been forced to do under the pressure of necessity, – if you could allow such a woman to go in that old wagon, when this new and pleasant carriage could be purchased, and that too when she is willing to give part of the money which was sent her by her affectionate aunt, that aforesaid money having been intended for her own personal benefit, – why then you are one of those of whom the world may well say, that it is fortunate that you are not placed in a situation where you could become a pirate.

After all this moving eloquence, one passage was repeated in express words. Mr. Digby was told that if he would agree to the purchase of the carriage and the harness which appropriately belonged to it, she would expend in paying for it the three hundred dollars sent her by her aunt. In that case he would have to advance but one hundred dollars, and by that insignificant outlay, insignificant of course she meant in comparison of that which they would gain, for economy is wealth, and she could not throw away a dollar on any account, he would secure this invaluable vehicle, and prove himself a man who had some regard for his wife.

Mr. Digby suggested that some of this money, sent by the aunt was to have paid for the window-curtains. He intended to add in order, some other purchases, all of which were to have a partial payment from the same treasured notes. But this suggestion only brought upon him a storm of virtuous indignation. Nothing could be more unreasonable than to expect that her money should be devoted to such purposes. All that she could say, was, that the curtains were necessities. And what would they have done if the aunt had not sent the money? If the present had not come, he would never have thought that she would be the one who ought to supply the money for such necessary expenses.

So the carriage was bought, and at last the money of the aunt was expended.

Mr. Digby made a calculation, and found that the three hundred dollars of the aunt, had been expended in part payment for purchases which cost him about one thousand dollars. He uttered the fervent hope that the good aunt would not send any more of her precious gifts.

Note. The manuscript here again becomes illegible. As far as I can gather from a word which can be distinguished here and there, Mr. Digby, after much suffering, and a severe illness from mental excitement, found that his good lady, who was really a woman of affectionate nature, changed all her views. Some one, at the close of the manuscript, appears to be inquiring of him, how it is that he has attained great peace of mind. The reply seems to be to the effect, that all the old theories are exploded from their domestic arrangements, and that in place of all other questions, the one consideration now is, what their income will enable them to purchase. And there also seems to be an assertion, that he no longer feels as if he was in danger of ruin, when any of their relatives sends his wife a present. There further appears to be some apology to the proverb, which he so greatly despised in former times, that economy is wealth.

XIII.

TO MY WIFE

XIV.

FADING AWAY

1

This paper was so much injured by time, that the editor could decipher only some portions. But he has concluded to publish these fragmentary hints, which may be of utility, and open some eyes, as they reveal some similar weaknesses, of a propensity to live beyond one's income, which modern progress has not yet perfectly removed from all minds.