THREE-AND-SIXPENCE-WORTH OF HAPPINESS.
IT is not very uncommon to hear some one say that happi- ness in no way depends upon money. By this the speaker generally means that it is possible to be very unhappy with or without it. But in what we commonly call happi- ness, which largely consists in the maintenance of smooth relations with our nearest and dearest, money counts for an immense deal, especially among the poor. An extra half- crown a week would often make the housekeeping easy; on the other hand, the loss of it would perhaps take away the husband's sense of freedom altogether and torn his work to drudgery. How much of his earnings a man gives his wife for the maintenance of the home and how little she can manage comfortably on are in all classes of life questions
vitally affecting happiness. The war has brought these questions to the surface just lately. Take, for instance, the question of allotment. "Tommy Atkins" must give his wife three and sixpence a week while he is at the front, but in the case of a soldier serving at home the allotment may be at a lower rate or withheld altogether with the wife's consent, provided her income would still reach a certain standard. The arrangement is very English and elastic, the result of a compromise ; indeed, the sort of arrangement which our adverse critics might call makeshift. For a short time the allotment was entirely obligatory ; then the soldiers complained; but as the wives had already been promised the money no change could suddenly be made with- out their consent. Hence the plan we are describing. The wife may forgo in her husband's favour if she pleases. It gives her a temporary financial influence she has never had before. For our part, we wonder that more has not been said about this official recognition of women's rights! It must not be for- gotten that with it goes one of their most ancient privileges. The wives are still allowed to change their minds. A woman may cancel her signature, and once more enjoy her three and sixpence. Them is no doubt that this semi-voluntary allot- ment is a potential source of domestic friction. Could it be otherwise ? Let us suppose the same situation in another class. Imagine a professional man forced—as, for instance, Indian officials are forced—to set aside part of his pay for the good of his family. In the case of an Indian official it is, of course, for their deferred good; but let us imagine it to be for their immediate maintenance. Suppose that over and above this maintenance his wife was able to insist upon drawing, let ue say, an eighth of his salary. She might let him have it or take it from him. Might not the situation prove sometimes a delicate one ? A few wives would insist, and many who decided to forgo the money would do so with a deep sigh and a profound sense of virtue. Some no doubt would use it to buy happiness, and think cheerfully that they had made a good bargain.
It happened to the present writer to discuss this question of the three and sixpence with a young and comely soldier's wife who had signed away her right to it. "With your little children and your high rent," said he, "you are clearly more in need of the money than your husband, who is provided for. Ought you not to change your mind and apply for a larger allotment ?" The young mother, whose children were clean and well cared for, and whose home had pretensions to prettiness, refused point-blank to go back upon her decision. "I can manage without it," she said ; "and, for that matter, I do not always go without it, for my husband often sends me two or three shillings or buys me a present "—and, she added simply, "I like that." "I know very well," she went on, "that many women are ready to take your advice. They exact all that they can get. But I call that greedy, and greediness is what makes husbands spiteful." The word "spiteful" is a strange one to use in such a connexion, but we think the speaker chose it deliber- ately. She had evidently considered very seriously the fact that around her so many husbands and wives lived in a state of friction. "Yon see, we are young yet," she went on, "and I could not bear to think of his turning spiteful, as so many do. He does not drink, and I am very fortunate. I think," she continued, "that a man who never drinks wants tobacco and many little things. Besides, I believe that money in a man's pocket gives him courage not to go wrong." This last is a curious point of view, bat if our readers had seen the speaker they would have thought her words worth a moment's consideration. Courage to keep straight is not usually con- sidered to be the result of money in the pocket. Yet this was the deliberate opinion of an intelligent woman of the working class who had hitherto succeeded in life and could boast of a good home, a steady husband, and well-cared-for children.
Are working-class wives greedy of money ? We should have thought not. Many stories go about, we know, of wives who take the whole of their husbands' wages and leave them only pocket-money. Such things may be done among those prosperous wage-earners who do not come the way of charitable workers. The latter hear more of those husbands who insist that the house should be kept upon an unduly small proportion of a wage unknown to the wife, and doled out sometimes twice a week. It seems very often as though the working woman's financial lot were hard indeed, and those who look on at it are tempted to rail against her husband. But obviously it is never fair to lay the whole blame of their troubles upon either Adam or Eve. The women who have given way to drink directly the war claimed their lords are no doubt women of greedy mind. They are not perhaps so numerous as has been said, but there are too many of them, and they are conspicuous. A good woman truly anxious for her children's welfare may by possibility drink to brace herself for a task too hard for her, or drink in a long and losing fight with bad health; but good women who love their children never drink from con- viviality, whatever good men may do. It is impossible to them. Those who thus disgrace themselves would have disgraced themselves earlier had they had the means to do so, and possibly the men who held back the money knew it. Do we not among the brain-workers see a good many wives who spend all their husbands' earnings, and would spend all if they were doubled, and forgo nothing "to give then courage"?
But, in spite of the philosophy of the young wife whose wisdom we have been discussing, it remains true that, if greed in a woman " makes husbands spiteful," greed in a man does not seem to have the same effect upon his wife. It is extraordinary how little really cruel greed seems sometimes to be resented. The present writer could tell of a woman who almost starved during the time between her husband's call to rejoin the colours and his final departure for the front because she would supply him with luxuries which he apparently regarded as his due. At first her distress utterly puzzled the lady deputed to take her weekly allowance from the society which stepped in till the War Office was able to pay regularly. Plainly she had enough ; plainly, also, she was hardly keeping body and soul together. Money privately given to her went the same way as the semi-official allowance. At last a oon- feasion was drawn from her, and her indignant friend exclaimed in horror at her husband's conduct. What could men be made of who could thus treat their wives, she wondered! "You are lucky in not being married," said the sufferer. The poor are occasionally masters—or, rather, more often mistresses—of a deeply veiled satire, and the friend after that kept her money and her indignation to herself. The war has had an extraordinary effect in bringing classes together, and thus making people realize bow very much alike we all are. "Kids are wonderful similar," said as English soldier who had been playing with a little Belgian child. So are grown-up people, but happiness is not equally divided. Sometimes the question is borne in upon us ; "In which class of life is there most happiness?" It depends, roughly speaking, on which class has the best family rela- tions, and that depends, in part at least, on money. The very poor have a bad chance of it Where money is scares selfishness shows terribly; where there is plenty it may go unseen.
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