TO——
Dear Friend,—I am afraid this letter which I am now writing will not please you altogether. Forgive anything in it which you do not like—for the sake of the friendship behind it.
The matter is difficult; and I cannot at this moment report any progress. I understand something of the matter. It is not any use to try to do anything further until I explain things as well as I can, and have heard your answer. Before I can do anything more, I want you to make some promises to me, your friend. After that you can make them to her, if you love her well enough.
To begin with, in regard to explanation, I think you are wrong, and that your wife and her father are quite right. Under the same circumstances, if I were her father, I should take her away from her husband if I could.
You are not wrong by heart—you are wrong only because you do not understand, do not know the conditions. Women of different classes cannot be all treated alike. Your wife is a refined, gentle lady—very sensitive and very easily hurt by harsh words or neglect. You cannot expect to treat such a lady like a farm-servant or a peasant-woman. It would kill her. But I have heard (not from your wife, but from other persons) that she was allowed by you to work in the garden, under a hot sun, thirty days after childbirth and the loss of her child. This seems to me a terrible thing, and you cannot have known what it means to a woman’s constitution.
A refined lady will not submit to be treated like a servant—unless she has no spirit at all. Your wife’s action shows that she has self-respect and spirit; and you want the mother of your children to be a woman of spirit and self-respect. Do not be angry with her because she shows this honourable pride. It is good.
I do not think that you can expect your wife to act as a daughter to your parents, or to live with them as a daughter exactly in the old way. Meiji has changed many things. Girls who have passed through the new schools are no longer hardy and strong like the Samurai women of old days. Observe how many of them die after a year of marriage. Then your parents and your wife belong to different eras,—different conditions,—different worlds. If they should expect your wife to be all to them that a daughter-in-law might have been in the old days, I fear that would be impossible. She has not the strength for that; and her whole nature is differently constituted.
I think you could only be happy by living alone with each other in your own house. Perhaps this seems wrong to you,—but that is Meiji. The fault is in the times, not in hearts.
If you marry another educated lady of the new school, you will have exactly the same trouble. The old conditions cannot be maintained under the new system of change.
But the chief trouble, of course, would be your attitude to your wife. You have not, I think, been considerate to her—regarded her too much as one bound to serve and obey. It will not do in her case. She has spirit, and she wants different treatment. It is better for a strong man to treat a wife exactly as he would treat a child that he loves. By her weakness and delicacy every educated woman is a child, and must be petted and loved like a child. If she be harshly treated, and have no pleasure—even if she be treated as well as you would treat a man-friend—then the result is unfortunate always, and the children born will show the mother’s pain.
Your wife is evidently afraid of the future—thinks it impossible that she can get from you the treatment or the consideration she ought to have, and must have in order to be happy. She will not say anything definite; but I am sure of this. She will not tell you her troubles—you should know them without being told. Not to know them shows the want of consideration.
The higher you go in society and in educated circles, the more the woman differs from the man. She cannot be judged or understood as a man. She becomes a distinct being with a distinct character, and very, very delicate feelings.
Well, this is enough to give you an idea of how I see the matter. Can you honestly promise to treat your wife in a completely new way,—with such delicacy as you never did before, and always? If you can, I think we can manage to do something. There is also something important to consider in regard to family matters. Can you not make this matter smooth also? Please answer before three o’clock. Do not come to the house until late this evening, or to-morrow. In haste,
Affectionately, your friend,
Y. Koizumi.