XXII. ON BEING EXACTING.

“What is the secret of all the marital unhappiness we see nowadays?” a young friend asked me recently in a most discouraged voice. I looked at her in astonishment, for both the tone and manner indicated that she was experiencing some of the first pangs of discovering that her idol was only made of common clay, after all.

I also remembered, as I noted the pretty, worried face, the day, but a year ago, when she had called on me with eyes radiant with joy to tell of her approaching marriage, of her intense love and admiration for the man who was to become her husband, and of all the bright hopes which encircled her future.

“Why, what makes you ask such questions?” I inquired, trying to laugh this dear little friend out of her despondent mood.

“Oh, well, everything seems to be clouded,” she responded sorrowfully. “I used to think it must be lovely to be married to the man I adored, but George and I don’t seem half as happy as I thought we should be; and, in fact, I have been noticing carefully all of the girls who are in our married set, and I don’t know of one genuinely happy couple.”

This seemed at first a terrible commentary on either one of the sexes or both, and yet when I commenced to mentally review the lists of unhappy marriages I had heard of during the past year, there was no gainsaying the fact that somebody or something was all wrong.

Taking it for granted, then, as a tangible, recognizable fact that genuinely happy unions are rare and illusive things, to what direct cause shall we assign such a state of affairs? Why is it that a young, beautiful, loving girl should, after a few years of wedded life, either develop into a worldly, married flirt, or a careworn, sad-looking woman, and that a bright, handsome fellow oftentimes becomes miserly and disagreeable, and also that when one chances upon what appears to be a thoroughly contented couple the fact is commented on as marvelous?

I have spent much thought in endeavoring to solve the problem, and even called in the assistance of friends to the extent of asking their opinions on the subject.

One man who I thought would be just in his views said:

“My dear madam, girls and women expect too much nowadays. They want too many bonnets, too many dresses. In short, they insist upon living with a poor husband as they have lived with a rich father, and most men nearly kill themselves in trying to meet these demands.”

This may be in part true, but it is not wholly the girl’s fault. Who can blame her for wanting pretty things? She can usually get them if she works for herself, and she naturally expects a loving husband to exert himself to procure what a fond father was willing to work hard to obtain for her.

When it comes to being extravagant, then the fault lies with the parents, particularly the mother, who ought always to bring daughters up with the constant admonition that they must never forget that riches have wings, and that a true, loving heart is worth much more than jewels. Indeed it is often mothers who put mercenary thoughts into their daughters’ brains. I heard one not long ago say to a caller on her pretty daughter—“It would not be well for a poor man to ask for my child Addie,” and in that remark lay the whole matter in a nutshell, plainly indicating the kind of tuition this future wife had received.

According to several women’s opinions on the question, it is men who expect too much from their wives. “They give so little, and want so much,” as one little rebel expresses it. Yes, they do demand a great deal, it is true; but did it ever occur to you in what different environments they are brought up, and that when they select you for the head of their house, and give you what they usually think the most of—their name—they are paying you what they consider the greatest compliment possible? No, it is quite evident that we must use the lash a little on both sides. There are faults in the man and woman which need correction. Much thought and study and careful weeding out of selfishness is required to render them congenial companions to each other.

Now, I consider daintiness of habit and dress a great factor toward marital happiness. A man who is fond of seeing everything neat and in order is often irritated and made absolutely cross by his wife’s lack of tidiness, her absolute disregard of what she terms his finicky ways, and a gross negligence in the care of his clothing as well as of her own person and dress. I have often wondered in my own mind if women were really aware what a powerful influence lies in daintiness of attire and surroundings. If they did, would they persist in wearing old black gowns or soiled dressing sacks and wrappers in the house? Would they save the lovely clothes, pretty frills and chic boots for outsiders to admire and throw on some shabby gown or faded finery and down-at-the-heel slippers the moment they enter the home, and there is “no one but husband to see them?”

Do women realize what a subtle fascination for most men exists in her toilet table, with its dainty brushes and pincushions and perfume bottles, all of which possess more or less of an air of mystery which is wonderfully attractive? The toilet articles need not of necessity be extremely expensive. It is principally the absolute cleanliness and purity of the silk and muslin draperies and silver-tipped glass bottles which prove so irresistible. I have often seen men walk around a fair woman’s pretty table and admiringly examine the quaint conceits her own personality had devised, and lovingly touch the dozen small objects which he knew were for her personal use.

The very man for whom they put on their most delicate laces and “fetching” hats to attract before marriage, they oftentimes give themselves little trouble to hold afterward. While the husband may preserve silence, he notices all this, considers it in the light of a direct slight, and it frequently serves to form the first layer of a strata of future unhappiness. You may always be absolutely certain that other women are on the lookout for him, and are always daintily and becomingly dressed when he is expected, and that the wife suffers by contrast.

Now, while the husband is not so apt to allow himself to become slovenly in appearance, his habits may be exasperatingly untidy. Is there anything more trying to a woman’s nerves and temper, I wonder, than to go into her pretty bedroom or parlor and find a clothes-brush in one corner, clothes tossed in another direction, while pipes, stumps of cigars, and above all, dozens of burnt matches, decorate bureau and mantel?

“Well,” he says in answer to her remonstrances, “where shall I put them, and isn’t it part of women’s duties to tidy up?” Yes, it may belong to woman’s province to set her house in order, but wouldn’t the task be made much easier if the men of the household threw their cigars and matches in the receiver made for them and hung back the brush on the nail from which they took it?

I cannot but feel convinced that much of the misery which we know exists among many of our married friends is due to the dissipated past of the husbands. From boyhood up men invariably dissipate in a greater or less degree, according to their temperaments and dispositions. When they marry young, their habits are of necessity changed, and, if they possess the requisite qualities to be steadfast and true, prove good husbands and fathers, harmed but little by their former worldliness; but in the generality of cases men in comfortable circumstances do not marry early in life. They are having too good a time to settle down. They want to continue to enjoy the forbidden sweets and fascinations of “life,” as they call it, before becoming Benedicts. It is only when wearied with the glamor of the show lights and blaze within the glare of dancing halls that most men long for home and a wife. But the woman must be young, perfect and spotless. Yes, indeed, notwithstanding the knowledge of his own shortcomings, he demands beauty, purity and, as a usual thing, a woman’s first affection, if he can secure it. He may be a wreck, body and soul, yet he accepts the sacrifice of a woman’s health, strength and good looks—for that is what it amounts to in the end. She meets him at some reception, say. He looks the personification of manly beauty. When she bids him adieu, she fondly imagines he also retires at that time to dream of her. She does not see him again until the next afternoon, and then he is well-groomed and attentive. How can she know that in the meantime he had spent most of the night in revelry? She is a lady, and cannot visit his club or apartments, and assuredly no friend of his will turn informer, so she has no possibility of a knowledge of his habits, unless she fortunately possesses a father or brother, and even these are often worldly enough to condone courses which they probably have followed or are following themselves.

“The cause of this state of affairs?” some old-fashioned person asks.

The low moral standard which pervades what we call society, I answer unhesitatingly, together with the false custom of having one law of morals for men and another one—decidedly another one—for women.

No man living likes to be judged, or, in fact, will allow himself to be judged, by the same moral standard that governs women. There is one rule for him, an entirely different path for her, and all the arguments in the world cannot change his ideas. It was but recently, in discussing this subject with a gentleman born, that he boasted of his own charity, and that of his sex in general toward women, whereas women, he declared, made no allowance for men’s natural weaknesses.

“Surely you must admit,” said I, “that women may feel justly indignant at being deceived in a man’s character. It is but natural that she should expect some youthfulness of feeling for the honest affections she offers upon the altar of marriage; but I thoroughly believe there is not a true woman living but what, if the man she loved came to her frankly and said, ‘I am not worthy of your devotion; I have passed through the whole gamut of evil, but bear with me and be my friend,’ would extend her arms to him and say, ‘I will help you back to health, strength and purity.’ Do you know any man of your acquaintance who would be as charitable toward a woman? No; not one of them would forgive the deceit practiced upon what they are pleased to term their pride, manhood and superiority.”

If the day ever comes when there shall be a clear and perfect understanding between men and women, when they shall judge each other not only by their own weaknesses, but by what they give of the present, irrespective of the past, then we may see true relations between husband and wife. “Sympathy is force,” should be each one’s motto. It should be hung over the fireside and in every room of the home.

An excellent thing to remember is that if you give any amount of force from yourself to another you are losing just so much vitality, unless you receive the same amount of force in return.

In other words, if a woman sympathizes in her husband’s work, enters into his hopes and fears, and helps him along in life, as she should do, and if he accepts that sympathy and unselfishness from her, he must give back, by his interest in the details of her private life, the vital force he is absorbing, if he desires to keep her with him and hold the sunshine of her love.

Have I solved any of the problems of happy relations between husband and wife?