HINTS AND HELPS FOR MARRIED PARTNERS.

AND first, let us speak to the young husband, in the words of the author of that excellent little volume, "A Whisper to a Newly-Married Pair."

'Earnestly endeavour to obtain among your acquaintance the character of a _good husband_; and abhor that _would-be_ wit, which I have sometimes seen practised among men of the world--a kind of coa.r.s.e jesting on the bondage of the _married state_, and a laugh at the shackles which a _wife_ imposes. On the contrary, be it your pride to exhibit to the world that sight on which the wise man pa.s.ses such an encomium: _Beautiful before G.o.d and men are a man and his wife that agree together._ (Ecclus. xxv, 10)

Make it an established rule to consult your wife on all occasions.

_Your_ interest is _hers_: and undertake _no_ plan contrary to her advice and approbation. Independent of better motives, what a responsibility does it free you from! for, if the affair turn out ill, you are spared reproaches both from her and from your own feelings. But the fact is, she who ought to have most influence on her husband's mind, is often precisely the person who has least; and a man will frequently take the advice of a stranger who cares not for him nor his interest, in preference to the cordial and sensible opinion of his wife. A due consideration of the domestic evils such a line of conduct is calculated to produce, might, one would think, of itself be sufficient to prevent its adoption; but, independent of these, policy should influence you; for there is in woman an intuitive quickness, a sagacity, a penetration, and a foresight into the probable consequences of an event, that make her peculiarly calculated to give her opinion and advice.--"If I was making up a plan of consequences," said the great Lord Bolingbroke, "I should like first to consult with a sensible woman."

Have you any male acquaintance, whom, on reasonable grounds, your wife wishes you to resign? Why should you hesitate? Of what consequence can be the civilities, or even the friendship, of any one, compared with the wishes of her with whom you have to spend your life--whose comfort you have sworn to attend to; and who has a right to demand, not only such a trifling compliance, but great sacrifices, if necessary?

Never witness a tear from your wife with apathy or indifference.

Words, looks, actions--all may be artificial; but a _tear_ is unequivocal; it comes direct from the _heart_, and speaks at once the language of truth, nature, and sincerity! Be a.s.sured, when, you see a tear on her cheek, her heart is touched; and do not, I again repeat it, do not behold it with coldness or insensibility!

It is very unnecessary to say that contradiction is to be avoided at all times: but when in the presence of others, be most particularly watchful. A look, or word, that perhaps, in _reality_, conveys no angry meaning, may at once lead people to think that their presence alone restrains the eruption of a discord, which probably has no existence whatsoever.

Some men, who are married to women of inferior fortune or connexion, will frequently have the meanness to upbraid them with the disparity. My good sir, allow me to ask what was your motive in marrying? Was it to oblige or please _your wife_? No, truly; it was to oblige and please _yourself_, your own dear self. Had she refused to marry you, you would have been (in lover's phrase) a very miserable man. Did you never tell her so? Therefore, really, instead of upbraiding her, you should be very grateful to her for rescuing you from such an unhappy fate.

It is particularly painful to a woman, whenever her husband is unkind enough to say a lessening or harsh word of any member of her family: invectives against herself are not half so wounding.

Should illness, or suffering of any kind, a.s.sail your wife, your tenderness and attention are then peculiarly called for; and if she be a woman of sensibility, believe me, a look of love, a word of pity or sympathy, will, at times, have a better effect than the prescriptions of her physicians.

Perhaps some calamity, peculiarly her own, may befall her. She may weep over the death of some dear relative or friend; or her spirits and feelings may be affected by various circ.u.mstances. Remember that your sympathy, tenderness, and attention, on such occasions, are particularly required.

A man would not, on any account, take up a whip, or a stick, and beat his wife; but he will, without remorse, use to her language which strikes much deeper to her heart than the lash of any whip he could make use of. "He would not, for the world," says an ingenious writer, "cut her with a _knife_, but he will, without the least hesitation, cut her with his _tongue_."

I have known some unfeeling husbands, who have treated their luckless wives with unvaried and unremitting unkindness, till perhaps the arrival of their last illness, and who then became all a.s.siduity and attention. Bat when that period approaches, their remorse, like the remorse of a murderer, is felt too late; the die is cast; and kindness or unkindness can be of little consequence to the poor victim, who only waits to have her eyes closed in the long sleep of death!

Perhaps your wife may be dest.i.tute of youth and beauty, or other superficial attractions, which distinguish many of her s.e.x: should this be the case, remember many a plain face conceals a heart of exquisite sensibility and merit; and her consciousness of the defect makes her peculiarly awake to the slightest attention or inattention from you: and just for a moment reflect--

"What is the blooming tincture of the skin, To peace of mind and harmony within?

What the bright sparkling of the finest eye, To the soft soothing of a calm reply?

Can loveliness of form, or look, or air, With loveliness of words or deeds compare?

No: those at first the unwary heart may gain; But these, these only, can the heart retain."

Your wife, though a gentle, amiable creature, may be deficient in mental endowments, and dest.i.tute of fancy or sentiment; and you, perhaps a man of taste and talents, are inclined to think lightly of her. This is unjust, unkind and unwise. It is not, believe me, the woman most gifted by nature, or most stored with literary knowledge, who always makes the most comfortable wife; by no, means: _your_ gentle, amiable helpmate may contribute much more to your happiness, more to the regularity, economy, and discipline of your houses and may make your children a much better mother, than many a brilliant dame who could trace, with Moore, Scott, and Byron, every line on the map of taste and sentiment, and descant on the merits and demerits of poetry, as if she had just arrived fresh from the neighbourhood of Parna.s.sus.

Should your wife be a woman of sense, worth, and cultivation, yet not very expert at cutting out a shirt, or making paste, pies, and puddings (though I would not by any means undervalue this necessary part of female knowledge, or tolerate ignorance in my s.e.x respecting them), yet pray, my good sir, do not, on this account _only_, show discontent and ill-humour towards her. If she is qualified to be your bosom friend, to advise, to comfort, and to soothe you;--if she can instruct your children, enliven your fireside by her conversation, and receive and entertain your friends in a manner which pleases and gratifies you;--be satisfied: we cannot expect to meet in a wife, or indeed in any one, exactly all we could wish. "I can easily," says a sensible friend of mine, "hire a woman to make my linen and dress my dinner, but I cannot so readily procure a _friend_ and _companion_ for myself, and a preceptress for my children." The remark was called forth by his mentioning that he had heard a gentleman, the day before, finding fault with his wife, an amiable, sensible well-informed woman, because she was not clever at pies, puddings, and needle-work! On the other hand, should she be sensible, affectionate, amiable, domestic, yet prevented by circ.u.mstances in early life from obtaining much knowledge of books, or mental cultivation, do not therefore think lightly of her; still remember she is your companion, the friend in whom you may confide at all times, and from whom you may obtain counsel and comfort.

Few women are insensible of tender treatment; and I believe the number of those is small indeed who would not recompense it with the most grateful returns. They are naturally frank and affectionate; and, in general, there is nothing but austerity of look and distance of behaviour, that can prevent those amiable qualities from being evinced on every occasion. There are, probably, but few men who have not experienced, during the intervals of leisure and reflection, a conviction of this truth. In the hour of absence and of solitude, who has not felt his heart cleaving to the wife of his bosom? who has not been, at some seasons; deeply impressed with a sense of her amiable disposition and demeanour, of her unwearied endeavours to promote and perpetuate his happiness, and of its being his indispensable duty to show, by the most unequivocal expressions of attachment and of tenderness, his full approbation of her a.s.siduity and faithfulness? But lives not he that has often returned to his habitation fully determined to requite the kindness he has constantly experienced, yet, notwithstanding, has beheld the woman of his heart joyful at his approach without even attempting to execute his purpose?--who has still withheld the rewards of esteem and affection; and, from some motive, the cause of which I never could develop, shrunk from the task of duty, and repressed those soft emotions which might have gladdened the breast of her that was ever anxious to please, always prompt to antic.i.p.ate his desires, and eager to contribute everything that affection could suggest, or diligence perform, in order to promote and perpetuate his felicity?

When absent, let your letters to your wife be warm and affectionate. A woman's heart is peculiarly formed for tenderness; and every expression of endearment from the man she loves is flattering and pleasing to her.

With pride and pleasure does she dwell on each a.s.surance of his affection: and, surely, it is a cold, unmanly thing to deprive her virtuous heart of such a cheap and easy mode of gratifying it. But, really, a man should endeavour not only for an affectionate, but an agreeable manner of writing to his wife. I remember hearing a lady say, "When my husband writes to me, if he can at all glean out any little piece of good news, or pleasing intelligence, he is sure to mention it."

Another lady used to remark, "My husband does not intend to give me pain, or to say anything unpleasant when he writes; and yet, I don't know how it is, but I never received a letter from him, that I did not, when I finished it, feel comfortless and dissatisfied."

I really think a husband, whenever he goes from home, should always endeavour, if possible, to bring back some little present to his wife.

If ever so trifling or valueless, still the attention gratifies her; and to call forth a smile of good-humour should be always a matter of importance.

Every one who knows anything of the human mind, agrees in acknowledging the power of _trifles_, in imparting either pain or pleasure. One of our best writers, speaking on this subject, introduces the following sweet lines:--

"Since trifles make the sum of human things, And half our misery from those trifles springs, O! let the ungentle spirit learn from thence, A _small_ unkindness is a _great_ offence.

To give rich gifts perhaps we wish in vain, But all may shun the guilt of giving pain."

So much of happiness and comfort in the wedded life depends upon the wife, that we cannot too often nor too earnestly engage her thoughts on the subject of her duties. Duty, to some, is a cold, repulsive word, but only in the discharge of duties that appertain to each condition in life, is happiness ever secured. From the "Whisper" we copy again:--

'Endeavour to make your husband's habitation alluring and delightful to him. Let it be to him a sanctuary to which his heart may always turn from the ills and anxieties of life. Make it a repose from his cares, a shelter from the _world_, a _home_ not for his person only, but for his _heart_. He may meet with _pleasure_ in other houses, but let him find _happiness_ in his _own_. Should he be dejected, soothe him; should he be silent and thoughtful, or even peevish, make allowances for the defects of human nature, and, by your sweetness, gentleness, and good humour, urge him continually to _think_, though he may not _say_ it, "This woman is indeed a comfort to me. I cannot but love her, and requite such gentleness and affection as they deserve."

I know not two female attractions so captivating to men as delicacy and modesty. Let not the familiar intercourse which marriage produces, banish such powerful charms. On the contrary, this very familiarity should be your strongest incitement in endeavouring to preserve them; and, believe, me, the modesty so pleasing in the _bride_, may always, in a great degree, be supported by the _wife_.

"If possible, let your husband suppose you think him a _good_ husband and it will be a strong stimulus to his being so. As long as he thinks he possesses the character, he will take some pains to deserve it: but when he has once lost the name, he will be very apt to abandon the reality altogether." I remember at one time being acquainted with a lady who was married to a very worthy man.

Attentive to all her comforts and wishes, he was just what the world calls a very good husband; and yet his manner to his wife was cold and comfortless, and he was constantly giving her _heart_, though never her _reason_, cause to complain of him. But she was a woman of excellent sense, and never upbraided him. On the contrary, he had every cause for supposing she thought him the best husband in the world; and the consequence was, that instead of the jarring and discord which would have been inevitably produced had she been in the habit of finding fault with him, their lives pa.s.sed on in uninterrupted peace.

I know not any attraction which renders a woman at all times so agreeable to her husband, as cheerfulness or good humour. It possesses the powers ascribed to magic: it gives charms where charms are not; and imparts beauty to the plainest face. Men are naturally more thoughtful and more difficult to amuse and please than women.

Full of cares and business, what a relaxation to a man is the cheerful countenance and pleasant voice of the gentle mistress of his home! On the contrary, a gloomy, dissatisfied manner is a poison of affection; and though a man may not seem to notice it, it is chilling and repulsive to his feelings, and he will be very apt to seek elsewhere for those smiles and that cheerfulness which he finds not in his own house.

In the article of dress, study your husband's taste, and endeavour to wear what he thinks becomes you best. The opinion of others on this subject is of very little consequence, if _he_ approves.

Make yourself as useful to him as you can, and let him see you employed as much as possible in _economical_ avocations.

At dinner, endeavour to have his favourite dish dressed and served up in the manner he likes best. In, observing such trifles as these, believe me, gentle lady, you study your own comfort just as much as his.

Perhaps your husband may occasionally bring home an unexpected guest to dinner. This is not at all times convenient. But beware, gentle lady, beware of frowns. Your fare at dinner may be scanty, but make up for the deficiency by smiles and good humour. It is an old remark, "Cheerfulness in the _host_ is always the surest and most agreeable mode of welcome to the guest." Perhaps, too, unseasonable visiters may intrude, or some one not particularly welcome may come to spend a few days with you. Trifling as these circ.u.mstances may be, they require a command of feeling and temper: but remember, as you journey on, inclination must be continually sacrificed; and recollect also, that the _true_ spirit of hospitality lies (as an old writer remarks), not in giving great dinners and sumptuous entertainments, but in receiving with kindness and cheerfulness those who _come_ to you, and those who _want_ your a.s.sistance.

Endeavour to feel pleased with your husband's bachelor friends. It always vexes and disappoints a man when his wife finds fault with his favourites--the favourites and companions of his youth, and probably those to whom he is bound not only by the ties of friendship, but by the cords of grat.i.tude.

Encourage in your husband a desire for reading aloud at night. When the window curtains are drawn, the candles lighted, and you are all seated after tea round the fire, how can his time be better employed? _You_ have your work to occupy you: _he_ has nothing to do but to sit and to think; and perhaps to think too that this family scene is extremely stupid. Give interest to the monotonous hour, by placing in his hand some entertaining but useful work. The pleasure which you derive from it will encourage him to proceed; while remarks on the pages will afford improving and animating topics for conversation.

Is he fond of music? When an appropriate moment occurs, sit down with cheerfulness to your piano or harp; recollect the airs that are wont to please him most, and indulge him by playing those favourite tunes. Tell me, gentle lady, when was your time at this accomplishment so well devoted? While he was your _lover_, with what readiness, and in your very best manner, would you touch the chords; and on every occasion what pains did you take to captivate! And now that he is become your _husband_ (me thinks at this moment I see a blush mantling in your cheek), now that he is your husband, has pleasing him become a matter of indifference to you?

Particularly shun what the world calls in ridicule, "Curtain lectures." When you both enter your room at night, and shut to your door, endeavour to shut out at the same moment all discord and contention, and look on your chamber as a retreat from the vexations of the world, a shelter sacred to peace and affection.

I cannot say I much approve of man and wife at all times opening each other's letters. There is more, I think, of vulgar familiarity in this than of delicacy or confidence. Besides, a sealed letter is sacred; and every one likes to have the first reading of his or her own letters.

Perhaps your husband may be fond of absenting himself from home, and giving to others that society which you have a right to expect: clubs, taverns, &c., &c., may be his favourite resort. In this case it may perhaps be necessary to have recourse to mild reasoning; but never--I again repeat--never to clamorous dispute. And the fonder he seems of quitting his home, the greater should be your effort to make yourself and your fireside agreeable to him. This may appear a difficult task; but I recommend nothing that I have not myself seen successfully practised. I once knew a lady who particularly studied her husband's character and disposition; and I have seen her, when he appeared sullen, fretful, and inclined to go out, invite a friend, or perhaps a few friends, to spend the evening, prepare for him at dinner the dish she knew he liked best, and thus, by her kind, cheerful manner, make him forget the peevishness which had taken possession of him. Believe it from me, and let it take deep root, gentle lady, in your mind, that a good-humoured deportment, a comfortable fireside, and a smiling countenance, will do more towards keeping your husband at home than a week's logic on the subject.

Is he fond of fishing, fowling, &c.? When those amus.e.m.e.nts do not interfere with business or matters of consequence, what harm can result from them? Strive then to enter into his feelings with regard to the pleasure which they seem to afford him, and endeavour to feel interested in his harmless accounts and chat respecting them. Let his favourite dog be your favourite also; and do not with a surly look, as I have seen some wives put on, say, in his hearing, "That Cato, or Rover, or Ranger, is the most troublesome dog and the greatest pest in the world."

If the day he goes out on these rural expeditions be cold or wet, do not omit having his shirt and stockings aired for him at the fireside. Such little attentions never fail to please; and it is well worth your while to obtain good humour by such easy efforts.

Should he be obliged to go to some distant place or foreign land, at once and without indecision, if circ.u.mstances render it at all practicable, let your determination be made in the beautiful and expressive language of Scripture: _Entreat me not to leave thee, nor to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy G.o.d my G.o.d. Where thou diest will I die, and there will I be buried; the Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me._ (Ruth i. 16, 17.) If his lot be comfortless, why not lessen those discomforts by your society? and if pleasure and gayety await him, why leave him exposed to the temptations which pleasure and gayety produce? A woman never appears in so respectable a light, never to no much advantage, as when under the protection of her husband.

Even occasional separations between man and wife I am no friend to, when they can be avoided. It is not to your advantage, believe me, gentle lady, to let him see how well he can do without you. You may probably say, "Absence is at times unavoidable." Granted: I only contend such intervals of absence should be short, and occur as seldom as possible.

Perhaps it may be your luckless lot to be united to an unkind husband--a man who cares not whether he pleases or displeases, whether you are happy or unhappy. If this be the case, hard is your fate, gentle lady, very hard! But the die is cast; and you must carefully remember that no neglect of duty on _his_ part can give a legitimate sanction to a failure of duty on _yours_. The sacredness of those ties which bind you as a wife remain equally strong and heavy, whatever be the conduct of your husband; and galling as the chain may be, you must only endeavour for resignation to bear it, till the Almighty, by lightening it, pleases to crown your gentleness and efforts with success.

When at the Throne of Grace (I address you as a religious woman), be fervent and persevering in your prayers for your husband; and by your example endeavour to allure him to that heaven towards which you are yourself aspiring: that, if your husband _obey not the word_, as the sacred writer says, _he may, without the word_, be won by the conversation (or conduct) of the wife.

Your husband, perhaps, may be addicted to gambling, horse-racing, drinking, &c. These are serious circ.u.mstances; and mild remonstrances must be occasionally used to oppose them; but do not let your argument rise to loud or clamorous disputing. Manage your opponent like a skilful general, and constantly watching the appropriate moment for retreat. To _convince_ without _irritating_, is one of the most difficult as well as most desirable points of argument. Perhaps this may not be in your power: at all events, make the attempt, first praying to G.o.d for direction, and then leaving to him the result.