HOW A MAN BEAT HIS WIFE

Bush Advocate, Volume V, Issue 354, 16 August 1890, Page 10

HOW A MAN BEAT HIS WIFE

(B3aOXIiHE DE VEEVir-LTJ, 1602.) There was once a sergeant who had a quarrelsome wife, and day and night she gave him no peace. Oftentimes did he beat her right sorely, but she woulcl not bear it, and threatened him with the Synod, the Huguenots' purgatory. At last she carried her complaint, and ho was cited to appear, and theu aud there admonished how unhandsome a thing it was to boat his wife. "Kay," said the sergeant, "hut she was worthy of boating 1 ." "Begone," quoth tho president; "let there be some measure in your actions, and let us hear no more of you." A few days after his -wife, trusting in the power of the Synod, again vexed him and ho beat her ; but with what ? Why, with a good yard measure, with which he took her measure very fairly. Tho poor woman took her beating very grievously, and again cited him before the Synod, but they did not say much to him, as they were very busy just then. " Go, and sin no more ; and if your wife angers you beat her not," and that \ras all. " Sir," quoth the sergeant, " I have but done us you commanded me ; I beat lieu with a measure." " Ay," said bis wife, "he beat mo with a short measure, and said that was the measure wherewith justice was meted out." "Alack!" said Mass John Pinaut, " do you then make a mock of holy things? See that we hear no euch tales of you again." "Nay, Sirs," quoth the sergeant, " I did but remonstrate with her." "Begone," said tho president ; "remonstrate with the Holy Scriptures, or else you will bo clapped up." A few days later the sergeant's wife was at her old tricks, and re beat her, but with what 'i Why. with a big New Testament, bound in wood and bossed with iron, which ho wrapped up in a cloth, and ko pounded her most handsomely. Again was tho sergeant summoned before the blessed Synod, which was getting very tired of seeing him. "Sirs," said he, "I corrected her with Holy Scripture."' "Alack!" quoth she, " what Scripture was it ? 'Twas with a big bouncing Now Testament— a plague on" it!— that ho pouuded me." Thereupon the scrjeaut was very solemnly admonished, threatened, und adjured, and tho Synod ordered him, by all pains and penalties, that henceforth ho should only correct his wife with tuo tongue. Ah ! save us all ! and so did h^, for when next she angered him ho took a smoked ox fonffuo andthumped hei till s T ie was like to

TOLSTOI'S NEWEST STORY.

HIS "KREUTZER SONATA" AND THE TALK ABOUT IT. (SfiEW YORK TIMES.) Among the many causes given for the students' disturbances in Russia — as transmitted by cablegrams — one is named that can hardly be understood by the American reader, namely, the disorders in the Petrovsky Agricultural Academy of Moscow, where the trouble began with the refusal of tho students to comply with the order of the college authorities enjoining the young men to desist from the clandestine circulation, reading, and discussion of ".The Kreutzer Sonata " — a story recently written by tho celebrated novelist, Count Tolstoi". That was decidedly hard on the young men ; they should not be held to euoh strict account for having caught tho epidemio that ia raging- just now in all the centres of intellectual life in Russia, and that with a violence unsurpassed even by tho late influenza. Whichever circle of society you enter nowadays in St. Petersburg or Moscow, and whatever the occasion of tho gathering, be it a " breakfast," a dinner, or a simple gathering of friends, you will everywhere come across most heated discussions of ."The Kreutzer Sonata," its contents, its purport, the ethics it bears out, tho ideas it I develops, and whether the ideas and tho principles evolved in the work are to be takoufor the personal opinions of tho author, or whether the hero of the story is to be taken as an abstract figure, serving to reflect the predominant pessimism, bora from selfindulgence and the brutality of human passions. As to pessimism, this new work of Tolstoi's is pessimistio to the core ; ia his negation of the value of life he would outdo Schopenhauer and Hartmann. No wonder tho book is not considered wholesome reading for the hot-headed Slavs of the Russian high colleges and universities. Even older, sedate, cold-bloodei people work themselves up into a white heat of discussion whenever the conversation turns on the ethics of " The Kreutzer Sonata." But what is " The Kreutzer Sonata?" What is the reason of the stir it produces in Russian society 1 As far. aa can be seen at present, the Russian censors will not allow it fo be published in Russia, and tho author is in no hurry to bring it out m one of ths revolutionary publications issued in Switzerland and Germany. As far as can be made out, the reason for the prohibition of tho work by the authorities is that it is too violent an onslaught on society life and on the petty vices so unconcernedly indulged in that peoplo appear to have forgotten that there could bo anything objectionable in them. But, as is always the case, the Government prohibition gives an additional piquancy to the forbidden fruit. • ' The Kreutzer Sonata ia copied and re-copied from manuscript by fervent admirers of the great writer, and is thus circulating from hand to hand in a clandestine manner, being read aloud and disoussed in most various circles, and the most usual form for an invitation nowadays is "to join bo and so at the reading of 'The Kreutzer . Sonata.' " Of course, it is a violent thing, like everything else that comes from under the pen of the great Russian realist, who takes forcible possession of the reader, fascinates him, makes him suffer the hero's martyrdom, and until the last page does not relax his mighty hold on the reader's system. Of Tolstoi', it can indeed be said that it is not peace, but the sword, that he has brought into the world of letters by his immense talent. Like most of Tolstoi's novel-dramas, " Tho Kreutzer Sonata" is not a complicated one as far as action is concerned. It is simply the story of love, marriage, and marital infelicity brought about by most trivial yet seemingly unavoidable causes — causes that have their origin in the habits of society people, in the customs, surroundings, and requirements inherent to peoplo in certain walks of life. Yet, notwithstanding the simplicity of the plot, the artistic truth permeating the whole story produces the effect of something as inexorable as the fate of the ancients, something gigantic, that is moving tho reader in all its towering might, envelops him, carries him off — a power against which there is no resistance. Still, notwithstanding its groat power, the new production of Tolstoi is interspersed with many of the blemishes generally pertaining to the work of that writer, which, notwithstanding his might, always made him yield the palm of art to that other great Russian master of fictioia, Turgenieff, whose stories are generally acknowledged to bo real pearls of art, to which not a single stroke could bo added, and from which nothing could safely be taken away. But, then, Tolstoi himself deprecates his own art, and appears to hold, it excusable only as far as it serves as a conveyer of the doctrines the author holds himself called upon to preach. Tho preaching it contains spoils "The Kreutzer Sonata " a good deal ; it spoils it as a work of pure art. t mean, though, were these frequent deviations left out, it would not be Tolstoi's characteristic work, and would never have moved Russian society as it docs now. The hero of tho Blory — Posnyehef he is named in the manuscript — ia a young landed proprietor of ample moans, leading the kind of life usual with educated Russians, sowing his wild oats in a moderate way, without "shunning either women or wine." Eventually ho bethinks himself that life is bereft of purpose unless a man is married, and is thus made to realisa the full purport of existence. Resolved to marry, and looking round for a fit companion, the young man turns his attention to the daughter of a neighbour of his, also a landed proprietor, but in poorer circumstances. A moonlight boat ride • seals Posnyshof s fate, ho ia powerless to resist the temptation that youth and beauty produce in the solitude of romantic surroundings. Ho falls in lovo in earnest, proposes, gets accepted, and marries the girl. The young couple seem to bo perfectly assorted. The wife belongs to the samo social station as the husband, is his equal in every respect, and so, with all indications pointing to a blissful existence, they settle down to live on their estate. Although, the young woman also married for love, blossomed on tho conviction that her suitor presents quite an " eligible jOrtW?," still the first period of marital life of tho young couple resolves itself into a series of domestic upheavals ; there are the , usual eruptions of passionate love and the usual struggles born of tho efforts of two strange natures to get adapted to each other notwithstanding all tho sharp angles of their respective dispositions and the impatience of youth at the discovery of any little blemishes in what one had fondly imagined to bo free of everything 1 of the kind. In short, Tolstoi once moro demonstrates the real truth so persistently perverted by writers of lesser penetration, and plainly shows that tho period fto idealised under tho name of honeymoon is nothing else than a hard, very hard struggle lotwccu two independent natures, and is, in fact, tho hardest, because the rockiest part of marital life. In tho case of the Posnyshcf couple, besides, it was no deeply-sea tacl affection, but chance and physical attractions that brought tho two together, so that when, after a period of bliss brought about by the advent of their first child, comes tlio discovery on the part of the husband that his young wife, in all the proud consciousness of her beauty, is fond of the admiration of men in general — not of her husband al< mo — tho thing appears very natural. But this disposition on tho part of tho wife stirs up the husband's jealousy, and, once kindled, that fire does not go out any more. Other children aro born to tho couple, and their life gets to bo a perfect, tangle of small quarrels, misunderstandings, loving reconciliations, good resolutions, and ho forth, until tho time comes to take tho growing children to Moscow, so as to better attend to their education. Ik is in Moscow that the final act of tho drama ia played, and to that I shall pass, nece-wuily omitting the intermediate Btnges of the couplo's life in the old Russian capital, through many of the dntai s going to form it are exactly those bits of artistic description that Borvo to make any of Tolstoi's productions stand in bold relief, so that once read it cannot be thought about later on otherwise than one remembers facts that have moved one in life itself, not

merely in fiction. Posnyshof meets a young violinist whom he had formerly known, for a handsome Adonis spoiled by all women. He has a movement of aversion toward the fellow, but; obeying some mysterious irresistible impulse, he restrains his dislike and requests the violinist to call at his house, tolling him ho will introduce him to his wife, who is also a musician — a pianist. The musician makes his call, and is received like any man milking his first oall in a house would be recoived by a respectable society woman — with modest dignity. Posnyshef has nothing to reproach his wife with, but still his jealousy is on tho alert. It seems to him during that call that it is with him, tho husband, that his wife adopts new tactics ; her voice, her sini'd, the way Bhe talks — all aye different ; as if sho wanted to "show oft" before the visitor, who, it seems to him, already eyes his wife with the approbation of a connoisseur. Still, the worldly sense of ho.spitality prevails, and Posnyshef invited the musician for an appointed evening and hastens to iuvite other guests. It is on that fatal evening that the violinist plays Beethoven's music — " Tho Kreutzer Sonata," from which the story is named — written for tho violin and the piano. Tho presto of tho sonata — overboiling, ob it were, with fitful, uw restrained passion — completely overpowers Pomyshef, sounds in his ears as something fatai, unavoidable. And suddenly everything appears lost to him — lost irrevooably; his wife, whose ruin seems achieved, his home, his entire life. Still the music continues, but that is immaterial ; the wrong cannot be remedied. A few days after, the "musicale" Ponsyshef is called away to his estate. The violinist, on taking leave of him, implies that he would have no occasion to call at Posnyshef's Moscow house in the hitter's absence ; so the husband departs in peace. But soon af tkr his arrival in the country ho receives a letter from his wife full of immaterial details, containing, however, a oasual remark about the "violinist having called — to return the borrowed music. "What music ? Wherefore the necessity of a call ? And in one instant the brain of the jealous husband conjures a complete picture of falsehood and deceit. He re-reads the wifo's letter, and it seems to him a perfect web of finely-concocted falsehoods ; he stops to consider — and instantly his memory helps him to a; lot of small incidents— glances, remarks, intonations of tho voice, that all seem to corroborate the fact of.his wife's infidelity. On tho return trip to Moscow — for he instantly resolves to return there — he endures a perfect martyrdom and reaches hi? home a more- than half^crazy man.' Seeing lights in his apartment windows, he rapidly ascends tho stairs, enters, and Bure enough, there ho sees the overcoat of his mortal enemy, the violinist, hanging on tho rooks of tho ante- zoom. The .servant announces that madame and her guest are yet at supper; but Posnyshef sends tho manservant on an errand, rushes into hia study; there, with trembling hands, he snatches a dagger that hangs on the wall and takes off his shoos, so as not to attract attention. The description of the man's actions at this critical moment and tho tumult of thoughts that press themselves upon his muddled intellect is a thrilling, a masterful one, worthy of tho pon of the greatest apostle of ethical realism. There are no studied offects, apparently — the action runs as simply as could be — yet the most trifling, commonplace details are presented so that they work perfect havoc with the nerves of the hearers of the story (very few are its readers yet). One involuntarily shudders as the slieath of the dagger slips off arid falls behind the back of tho sofa, Posnoyshof making a mental note of tho fact, co as not to forget where to look for the thing later on. It is with breathless suspense that ono follows the' exasperated husband in his roundabout passage through the children's bedroom toward the parlour, as he is suddenly startled by a movement of the sleeping nurse and dashes off to his study, where ho throws himself down on the sofa, sobbing, but presently controls his weakness, gets np again, and opens the door leading to tho parlour, concealing the dagger behind his back. What strikes tho would-be murderer most forcibly here is the look of horror with which the eyes of his wife and her visitor are turned on him. Then a change oome3 in the expression of the face of the violinist, as if ho considered whether there could yet be any use in lying. Still the fellow mutters something- abo,ut "their having just had some music ;" the wife likowiso finds something to say. Tho husbaud, though, is powerless to restrain himself any longer ; he rushes at his wife ; but with his weapon still in hiding. The lover tries to' shield her ; but is frightened off and flies. One moment Posnyshef thinks of pursuing him, but suddenly recollects that he is in his stocking feet ; it would not do to appear ridiculous in such a pursuit— he wants to be frightful. . . . The wifo hangs on hin arm with an air of supplication, and that is taken by him as a signal of what remains to be done. He throws her down on the nearest lounge and attempts to stranglo her. Struggling to escape his hands, she vows that she is innocent, assures him that there "never was anything" between her and the violinist. " She vows thero was not," reasons tho husband; "this is tho surest sign that ' there was,' " and with this he rushes toward her and mortally wounds her -with, his dagger. Such is tho subject of the now production of Tolstoi' — its great strength lies in its details. These details, which are trenchant in their truthfulness, make a live thing of the drama, aud at the bloody culmination of it one fairly gasps for breath, as one inquires: ' ' What is this ? Wherefore all this misery ?' ' Yet, all tho sarao, one feels that tho culmination of it is in no wise the outcome of the author's licenso — that it has come as, under certain conditions, a landslide has to occur when the ground ia all undermined. But who is to blame ? Is it tho woman, with her instinctive desire to please ? Is it the lover, with, his subtle ways enhanced by tho divine art of the musician? Is it tho husband, with his blood all a-firo with tho fever of uncontrollablo jealousy, his head all in a muddle with a sense cf wounded pride, irreparable injury ? No ; no ono is to blame; all of the actors of tho drama are ordinary mortals like hundreds of men and women one meets at every turn ; and, as tho details developing in the course of the story bring it to its natural culmination, the hearer is made to feel that the same might have been his share were tho conditions favourable — that no man can at auy time shield himself against a similar tragedy in his own life. And, as tho reader loses himself inextricably in this web, spun by Fate, as it were, abotted by habit and custom grown to bo a second nature with man, and then tries to sum up his impressions, he di.-covers that everything' in life is either a sham or a snare, culminating in sin. If one were to subscribe to Tolstoi's bitter denunciation of art and science m this, his last, novel, both would be found harmful and fr .night with danger to morals, und to all that should come in as tho highest, aims of mankind. As to music, the practice of that art, says Tolstoi through his hero, should not be tolerated otherwise than under somo kind of regulation by tfio Stale, else any musician can u«o his exceptional j^ift for tho purpose of hypnotising his fellow mon, get them fully under his central, and do them infinite harm were ho so inclined. Hero are somo other startling positions assumed by Tolstoi in " The Kroutzei Sonata." "Carnal love is certainly a sin ; hence, since murriago is founded on carnal lovo, marriago is also a kiii. Man, thanks to the life ho leads before marriage, is generally unworthy tho woman. Woman lowers hersolf by stopping flown to tho level of tho man ; tho woman ought to bo tho equal of the man ; but, wero sho to maintain her moral independence sho klioul<l never condescend to carnal love. Tho human vocation in life is mutual unity ; whon men and women shall cease to marry and bear children then they will be equal in their rights, and equality of rights will produce unity; men and women, having thus fulfilled their vocation, will disappear fr>m this scene of human struggles, Avhero they will havo nothing more to fulfil." These and other reasonings and surmises aro launched by the author through tho hero of tho story, and now tho Russian public is t breaking lances over the question aa to

whether Tolstoi gives thus vent to his own convictions or only meant to graphically represent the absurdities to whioh a man may bo led under the pressure of pessimism pervading now the whole of Europe.

As far as can be gathered from the book, the highest aim of humanity should be selfdepreciation, ascetism, the conquest of self — • as tho opppsites of sinful self-indulgence ; a man should not drink or oat anything that appeals to the palate, not smoke, always keep in a half-hungry condition, ought not to aspire to introduce improvements in tho realms of Bcience, art, teclinics — but should givo himsolf up to hard physical labour — such as the labourer lives by ; a man should even restrain his fondness for his own children, since that is also an objectionable kind of intemperance. Christianity, Buddhism, the pessimistic teachings of Schopenhauer and Hartmann — all that and more is inextricably mixed up in the new production of Tolstoi. But, full of sophistries as it is, "The Kreutzer Sonata" will still be reoognised as the product of a mighty master of art — to whom, indeed, is given the talent to hypnotise the masses by the power of his pen. While the novel may bewilder and disquiet the ordinary public, bring out innumerable divergencies 01 views and opinions, still tho experienced, critical reader will know how to separate the wheat from tho chaff; with him, throughout the book, the live images will hold their own against all the still-born precepts that fetter them.