The Ideal wife
Media
Part of Panorama
- Title
- The Ideal wife
- Creator
- Phelps, William Lyon
- Language
- English
- Year
- 1966
- Rights
-
- Abstract
- William Lyon Phelps was a Professor of English Literature at Yale University, condensed from April ’30, Delineator.
- She has the capacity and willingness to stand by her husband at all times.
- Fulltext
- ■ She has the capacity and willingness to stand by her husband at all times. THE IDEAL WIFE Who invented marriage? I do not know; if I did, 1 should place his name above the greatest inventors of merely scientific contraptions. I say "his” advisedly, because I am certain it was a man. No woman would have thought of such a thing, and if she had, she would have thought twice before men tioning it. Almost any wo man can get along fairly well without a husband; she is in her inmost mind as in dependent and self-sufficient as a cat. A bachelor is like a lost dog. Even if he has so much money that he can furnish his apartment luxu riously, it is only a glorified kennel. As a rule, he never goes there so long as any thing else is open. Among all novelists, the most consummate artist was the Russian, Ivan Turgenef. He had the satisfaction of knowing, while he was yet alive on earth, that he had written immortal books, that his works would never be forgotten. What did he think of all that? He was a bache lor. He said that he would give all his art, all his books, all his fame, if there were one woman in the world who cared whether he came home late to dinner. The paradox of wives is that they are at once more idealistic and more practical than their husbands. They are an inspiration and a le veler. They are believers in the church, in the symphony conceit, in the art gallery, and in poetry. They allure to brighter worlds and lead the way. At the same time, they bring their men back from futile rages over trivia lities. They are practical. If we relied on contempo rary novels for our informa tion concerning the success of marriage as an “institu tion,” we should be pessi mists. Happy the nation that has no history. Happy the marriage which has no news. March 1966 41 An unhappy marriage is still “news,” which is why it is featured in sensational papers and made the foundation of novels. If we used reading instead of observation, we might easily be led to believe that the first year of married life is the happiest; that pas sion, then aflame, is soon ex tinct; that husband and wife regard each other with an indifference that sinks into contempt. . The facts are quite otherwise. When I was a young man, a college friend of mine was married to a charming girl; on the wedding trip he was smitten with illness, and in a few days was dead. Talk ing about that to a much older man, I exclaimed, “Is there anything more tragic than that?” To my surprise, he replied, “Oh, yes — they had'been-married only a few days. It would have been more tragic if they had been married twenty-five years. Real tragedy is the loss of a lifelong mate.” He was right. The deep meaning of love is not found in passionate exclamations of frenzied ado ration; it is seen in casual remarks such as, “Now don’t go out without your rubbers on,” and in real concern for the mate when he sneezes. For a man to live in solid contentment, there must be some one with whom he comes first. When he loses her, there is no one to take her place. The capacity of women to stand by their men, their husbands, their sons, and their brothers, is one of their sublimest characteristics. The innumerable number of men over whom hangs that cons tant tragic fear, the fear of losing their job — for men need, even more than higher wages, security of tenure — know that the most tragic element in (when it comes) will be telling the woman waiting at home. Yet how many thousand men who have been told their “services are no longer needed,” go ing home in despair to tell the woman dependent on the bread-winner, find from her lips, instead of taunts, or what is worse, "silent acquies cence in a husband who is a failure, the words of com fort, of support, and of re assuring faith. The greatest literary artist in American history, our fore 42 Panorama most novelist, Nathaniel Hawthorne, not only owed his success to the daily inspi ration of his wife, but his only opportunity to compose first his mind, and then his masterpiece. If it had not been for Sophia, perhaps we should not now remember Nathaniel. He lost his job in the Custom House. A broken-hearted man, he went home to tell his wife that he was a failure. To his amaze ment, she beamed with joy, and said, "Now you can write your book!” To his bitter rejoinder, "Yes and what shall we live on while I am writing it?” the as tounding woman opened a drawer and took out an un suspected hoard of cash. “Where on earth did you get that?” "My husband, I have always known that you were a man of genius. I knew that someday you would write an immortal masterpiece. So every week,, out of the money you have given me for house keeping, I have saved some thing; here is enough to last us one whole year.” Haw thorne sat down and wrote the finest book ever written in the western hemisphere — "The Scarlet Letter.” — By William Lyon Phelps, Pro fessor of English Literature at Yale University, condensed from Apr. ’30, Delineator. THE UNEXPECTED FRIEND Th9usands of appeals for pardon came to Lin coln from soldiers involved in military discipline. Each appeal was as a rule supported by letters from influential people. One day a single sheet came be fore him, an appeal from a soldier without any sup porting documents. "What!” exclaimed the President, “has this man no friends?” “No, sir, not one,” said the adjutant. “Then,” said Lincoln, "I will be his friend.” March 1966 43