THE WORTH OF A TRUE WIFE

THE man that asks no love is a monster. The man who expects none is a child of despair. There may be hearts so frozen by selfishness, or ossified by pride and egotism, or paralyzed by disappointment, as to be indifferent to affection. But these are icebergs, drifting in darkness on Polar seas; cold, barren, desolate. In them no tree or shrub plants a root, no flower sheds its fragrance there. No melody of living joy is obtained there. God found that it was not good for man to be alone, chiefly because he needed the conscious affection of a female heart to soften the aspirations of his own, and thus give completeness to his being. In the deep, full affection of a wife’s heart the husband finds that appreciation and interest that every soul covets. This stimulates his enterprise. This makes him brave to peril. This cheers his hard labor. This comforts him under irritation, slander, reproach, in the outside world.

To meet this craving of man, woman is adapted. She is not ambitious of wealth or fame. She shrinks from great changes and great perils. She is not fitted for the great struggles of the forum, the conflicts of arms, or the labors of the field. Her home is her earthly heaven, and she holds a loving heart to cheer him to whom God has given a loftier ambition, a deeper craving of earth’s wealth, a stronger arm and a higher courage. Subjected, by the ordinance of God, and the laws of the land, to abide a sterner will than her own, she is furnished with a wealth of affection which makes her burden of subordination light, and melts and moulds to tenderness the controller of her destiny.

The treasure of a wife’s affection, like the grace of God, is given, not bought. Gold is power. It can sweep down forests, raise cities, build roads and deck houses. It can collect troops of flatterers, and inspire awe and fear. But, alas! wealth can never purchase love. Bonaparte essayed the subjugation of Europe, under the influence of a genius almost inspired—an ambition insatiable, and backed by millions of armed men. He almost succeeded in swaying his sceptre from the Straits of Dover to the Mediterranean—from the Bay of Biscay to the sea of Azoff.  On many a bloody field his banner floated triumphant. But the greatest conquest was the unbought heart of Josephine—his sweetest and most priceless treasure her outraged but unchanged love. If any man has failed to estimate the affection of a true-hearted wife, he will be likely to mark the value in his loss when the heart that loved him is stilled by death.

In the true wife the husband finds not affection only, but companionship-- a companionship with which no other can compare. The family relation gives retirement with solitude, and society without the rough intrusion of the world. It plants in the husband’s dwelling a friend who can bear his silence without weariness—who can listen to the details of his interests with sympathy—who can appreciate his repetition of events only important as they are embalmed in the heart. Common friends are linked to us by a slender thread. We must retain them by ministering in some way to their interest or their enjoyment. What a luxury it is for a man to feel that in his home there is a true and affectionate being, in whose presence he may throw off restraint without danger to his dignity—he may confide without fear of treachery—and be sick or unfortunate without being abandoned. If, in the outer world, he grows weary of human selfishness, his heart can safely trust in one whose indulgences overlooks his defects.

Nor, in the matter of personal comfort, in the thousand things which combine to shed happiness on man’s pathway through life, is the wife a less precious gift of God. Who is it that gives care to the neatness, order and tidiness of our dwellings, our halls, our bedchambers? Who is it that consults our tastes and affinities, our repellances, and so regulates our tables, our couches, our apparel, as to minister to our comfort?  Who is it that supplies our lack of interest in ordinary things, and sends us out into society prepared to meet the claims of decency, taste and propriety? Who caters for our appetites, and swelters in heated kitchens for our indulgence, and often Un- thanked and unblessed, plies the needle the whole evening for our benefit? Who is it that schemes by a rigid economy, to get the most elegance and comfort from the least tax on our income? Who furnishes the ready pin, the napkin, the bandage for our wounds, the cup for our thirst, the friction for our aching head, the medicine for our pains? What angel of mercy is it that watches by our sick pillow, bears all our pains and irritations, and moves with muffled step when we slumber?

The assiduities of a faithful wife are so common, so varied, so cheerful, so unsuspecting, that husbands are likely to regard her kindness as they do the sunlight and dews of heaven—matters of course—to be received without gratitude. But the constancy which makes them feel familiar—to a right constituted mind—deepens the sense of obligation. While the husband safely trusts to the companion of his years for his personal comforts, she has a right to expect that her beneficence shall be appreciated. If not, he will be likely to find her worth in her loss. Her absence or death is to the little world at home like the loss of the glowing sun which protects our earth from eternal dark ness and frost.

As a counselor the faithful wife is invaluable. Well might Solomon say, “The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her.” It is difficult to find a friend who is so deeply interested in our welfare as to take the trouble to study our perplexities—so conversant with us and our affairs as to understand our wants and dangers—so morally brave as to venture to tell us unwelcome truth—so perfectly disinterested as to assure us that no selfishness prompts her advice—and so persevering as repetitiously to urge that which is for our benefit. A wife is such a friend, and a wise man will often seek her counsel.

And there is something in the ready, instinctive suggestions of an intelligent wife, which no sane husband should ever despise. She does not pause to collect facts, weigh arguments and draw inferences. Her impressive nature which renders her indisposed slowly to reason, is furnished with instinctive perception of the right, which is better than logic.

It is wonderful how often, in nicely-balanced cases, when we appeal to the judgment of a wife, she instantly decides the case for us, and how generally she is right.   Pilate was embarrassed in the struggle between his sense of justice and his desire of popularity; but his wife said at once “Have thou nothing to do with that just man !“ Had he heeded her counsel, Pilate’s hands would not have been stained with the blood of the Son of God.

In the matter of economy, too—in the watchful guardianship of his income and estate—the husband can well trust the good wife. It is true there are some wives who cannot thus be trusted. Actuated by a foolish vanity for dress, furniture and equipage, and reckless of a husband’s toil, anxieties and pecuniary embarrassments, they will sustain a certain style in the present, even if they have to trample on a husband’s broken heart and ruined reputation in the future. These are the wives that drive husbands to wild speculation, to frauds, and embezzlement, to debts never to be paid, to lottery-gambling, to desperation and a premature grave.

But we are happy to believe that such cases are few. As a general fact, the principle of justice, economy and thrift is strong in the heart of woman. Her home-destiny qualifies her for a minute regard to the details of domestic economy, and her love for her husband and regard for the welfare of her children disposes her to use wisely and well the earnings entrusted to her control. She is the one that obey Christ in “gathering up the fragments, that nothing be lost.” Her is no hireling’s eye and hand. The husband lays his purse in her lap, assured that the comfort and responsibility of his house and the interests of his property are safe in her keeping.

Let the husband, then, who is thus blessed, appreciate the gift of God. “A prudent wife is from the Lord,” and the gift is worthy of the Giver. “Her price is far above rubies; “and we are told, in the word of God, “the heart of her husband doth safely trust in her.” There is a peculiarity in this language. Ordinarily, it is the office of divine truth to weaken our confidence in earthly blessings. Thus it is said: “He that trusted in his own heart is a fool.” “Trust not in man, whose breath is in his nostrils.” “Put not your trust in princes.” “Trust not in uncertain riches.” Human friendships are treacherous. Wealth is too cold to fill a warm heart. Fame hangs on a breath of air, and comes and goes, rises and falls by the caprices of a crowd. God ordinarily represents earthly things as vanity. But he seems to make an exception in Favor of a virtuous woman. Of a true and virtuous wife, he says, “The heart of the husband doth safely trust in her; and while he may trust, let him love, appreciate and meetly cherish her.       -