The husband should never cease to be a lover, or fail in any of those delicate attentions and tender expressions of affectionate solicitude which marked his intercourse before marriage with his heart's queen. All the respectful deference, every courteous observance, all the self-sacrificing devotion that can be claimed by a mistress is certainly due to a wife, and he is no true husband and no true gentleman who withholds them. It is not enough that you honor, respect, and love your wife. You must put this honor, respect, and love into the forms of speech and action. Let no unkind word, no seeming indifference, no lack of the little attentions due her, remind her sadly of the sweet days of courtship and the honey-moon. Surely the love you thought would have been cheaply purchased at the price of a world is worth all you care to preserve. Is not the wife more, and better, and dearer than the sweetheart? We venture to hint that it is probably your own fault if she is not.
The chosen companion of your life, the mother of your children, the sharer of all your joys and sorrows, as she possesses the highest place in your affections, should have the best place everywhere, the choicest morsels, the politest attentions, the softest, kindest words, the tenderest care. Love, duty, and good manners alike require it.
And has the wife no duties? Have the courteous observances, the tender watchfulness, the pleasant words, the never-tiring devotion, which won your smiles, your spoken thanks, your kisses, your very self, in days gone by, now lost their value? Does not the husband rightly claim as much, at least, as the lover? If you find him less observant of the little courtesies due you, may this not be because you sometimes fail to reward him with the same sweet thanks and sweeter smiles? Ask your own heart.
Have the comfort and happiness of your husband always in view, and let him see and feel that you still look up to him with trust and affection—that the love of other days has not grown cold. Dress for his eyes more scrupulously than for all the rest of the world; make yourself and your home beautiful for his sake; play and sing (if you can) to please him; try to beguile him from his cares; retain his affections in the same way you won them, and—be polite even to your husband.
V.—ENTERTAINERS AND THEIR GUESTS.
Hospitality takes a high rank among the social virtues; but we fear it is not held in so high esteem as formerly. Its duties are often fatiguing and irksome, no doubt, and sometimes quite unnecessarily so. One of the most important maxims of hospitality is, "Let your guests alone!" If it were generally observed it would save both hosts and visitors a world of trouble. Your first object should be to make your guests feel at home. This they never can do while your needless bustle and obtrusive attentions constantly remind them that they are not at home, and perhaps make them wish they were.
You will not, of course, understand us to mean that you should devote no attention to your guests. On the contrary, you should assiduously labor to promote their comfort and enjoyment, opening to them every source of entertainment within your reach; but it should be done in that easy, delicate, considerate way which will make it seem a matter of course, and no trouble whatever to you. You should not seem to be conferring but receiving a favor.
Begging your visitors to "make themselves at home," does not give them the home feeling. Genuine, unaffected friendliness, and an unobtrusive and almost unperceived attention to their wants alone will impart this. Allow their presence to interfere as little as possible with your domestic arrangements; thus letting them see that their visit does not disturb you, but that they fall, as it were, naturally into a vacant place in your household.
Observe your own feelings when you happen to be the guest of a person who, though he may be very much your friend, and really glad to see you, seems not to know what to do either with you or himself; and again, when in the house of another, you feel as much at ease as in your own. Mark the difference, more easily felt than described, between the manners of the two, and deduce therefrom a lesson for your own improvement.
Furnish your rooms and table for your guests in as good style as your means and the circumstances of the case will permit, and make no fuss about it. To be unnecessarily sparing shows meanness, and to be extravagantly profuse is absurd as well an ruinous. Probably your visitors know whether your income is large or small and if they do not they will soon learn, on that point, all that it is necessary for them to know. But if any circumstance out of the ordinary course of things should render an apology necessary, make it at once and say no more about it.