The Marriage Debate
They Who Marry Do Ill
by Voltairine de Cleyre
[This lecture, delivered in debate with Henrietta Payne Westbrook to the Radical Library of Philadelphia on April 28, 1907, was published in the January 1908 issue of Mother Earth.
That journal’s editors mistakenly wrote the lecture club’s name as the “Radical Liberal League,” conflating the correct name together with that of an anarchist-run club in the city,
the Ladies Liberal League, which existed from 1892 till around the end of 1897.
Both de Cleyre and Westbrook had been members of the earlier club.
See also Westbrook's side of the debate, "Is Marriage a Failure?" -- Ed.]
LET ME make myself understood on two points, now, so that when discussion arises later, words may not be wasted in considering things not in question:
First--How shall we measure doing well or doing ill;
Second--What I mean by marriage.
So much as I have been able to put together the pieces of the universe in my small head, there is no absolute right or wrong; there is only a relativity, depending on the consciously though very slowly altering condition of a social race in respect to the rest of the world. Right and wrong are social conceptions: mind, I do not say human conceptions. The names "right" and "wrong," truly, are of human invention only; but the conception "right" and "wrong," dimly or clearly, has been wrought out with more or less effectiveness by all intelligent social beings. And the definition of Right, as sealed and approved by the successful conduct of social beings, is: That mode of behavior which best serves the growing need of that society.
As to what that need is, certainly it has been in the past, and for the most part indicated by the unconscious response of the structure (social or individual) to the pressure of its environment. Up till a few years since I believed with Huxley, Von Hartmann, and my teacher Lum, that it was wholly so determined; that consciousness might discern, and obey or oppose, but had no voice in deciding the course of social development: if it decided to oppose, it did so to its own ruin, not to the modification of the unconsciously determined ideal.
Of late years I have been approaching the conclusion that consciousness has a continuously increasing part in the decision of social problems; that while it is a minor voice, and must be for a long time to come, it is, nevertheless, the dawning power which threatens to overhurl old processes and old laws, and supplant them by other powers and other ideals. I know no more fascinating speculation than this, of the role of consciousness in present and future evolution. However, it is not our present speculation. I speak of it only because in determining what constitutes well-being at present, I shall maintain that the old ideal has been considerably modified by unconscious reaction against the superfluities produced by unconscious striving towards a certain end.
The question now becomes: What is the growing ideal of human society, unconsciously indicated and unconsciously discerned and illuminated?
By all the readings of progress, this indication appears to be the free individual; a society whose economic, political, social and sexual organization shall secure and constantly increase the scope of being to its several units; whose solidarity and continuity depend upon the free attraction of its component parts, and in no wise upon compulsory forms. Unless we are agreed that this is the discernible goal of our present social striving, there is no hope that we shall agree in the rest of the argument. For it would be vastly easy to prove that if the maintenance of the old divisions of society into classes, each with specialized services to perform -the priesthood, the military, the wage earner, the capitalist, the domestic servant, the breeder, etc. -is in accord with the growing force of society, then marriage is the thing, and they who marry do well.
But this is the point at which I stand, and from which I shall measure well and ill-doing; viz.: that the aim of social striving now is the free individual, implying all the conditions necessary to that freedom.
Now the second thing: What shall we understand as marriage?
Some fifteen or eighteen years ago, when I had not been out of the convent long enough to forget its teachings, nor lived and experienced enough to work out my own definitions, I considered that marriage was "a sacrament of the Church" or it was "civil ceremony performed by the State," by which a man and a woman were united for life, or until the divorce court separated them. With all the energy of a neophyte freethinker, I attacked religious marriage as an unwarranted interference on the part of the priest with the affairs of individuals, condemned the "until death do us part" promise as one of the immoralities which made a person a slave through all his future to his present feelings, and urged the miserable vulgarity of both the religious and civil ceremony, by which the intimate personal relations of two individuals are made topic of comment and jest by the public.
By all this I still hold. Nothing is more disgustingly vulgar to me than the so-called sacrament of marriage; outraging of all delicacy in the trumpeting of private matters in the general ear. Need I recall, for example, the unprinted and unprintable floating literature concerning the marriage of Alice Roosevelt, when the so-called "American princess" was targeted by every lewd jester in the country, because, forsooth, the whole world had to be informed of her forthcoming union with Mr. Longworth! But it is neither the religious nor the civil ceremony that I refer to now, when I say that "those who marry do ill." The ceremony is only a form, a ghost, a meatless shell. By marriage I mean the real thing, the permanent relation of a man and a woman, sexual and economical, whereby the present home and family life is maintained. It is of no importance to me whether this is a polygamous, polyandric or monogamous marriage, nor whether it is blessed by a priest, permitted by a magistrate, contracted publicly or privately, or not contracted at all. It is the permanent dependent relationship which, I affirm, is detrimental to the growth of individual character, and to which I am unequivocally opposed. Now my opponents know where to find me.
In the old days to which I have alluded, I contended, warmly and sincerely, for the exclusive union of one man and one woman as long as they were held together by love, and for the dissolution of the arrangement upon the desire of either. We talked in those days most enthusiastically about the bond of love, and it only. Nowadays I would say that I prefer to see a marriage based purely on business considerations, than a marriage based on love. That is not because I am in the least concerned with the success of the marriage, but because I am concerned with the success of love. And I believe that the easiest, surest and most applicable method of killing love is marriage --marriage as I have defined it. I believe that the only way to preserve love in anything like the ecstatic condition which renders it worthy of a distinctive name --otherwise it is either lust or simply friendship --is to maintain the distances. Never allow love to be vulgarized by the indecencies of continuous close communion. Better to be in familiar contempt of your enemy than the one you love.
I presume that some who are unacquainted with my opposition to legal and social forms, are ready to exclaim: "Do you want to do away with the relation of the sexes altogether, and cover the earth with monks and nuns?" By no means. While I am not over and above anxious about the repopulation of the earth, and should not shed any tears if I knew that the last man had already been born, I am not advocating sexual total abstinence. If the advocates of marriage had merely to prove the case against complete sexual abstinence, their task would be easy. The statistics of insanity, and in general all manner of aberrations, would alone constitute a big item in the charge. No: I do not believe that the highest human being is the unsexed one, or the one who extirpates his passions by violence, whether religious or scientific violence. I would have people regard all their normal instincts in a normal way, neither gluttonizing nor starving them, neither exalting them beyond their true service nor denouncing them as the servitors of evil, both of which mankind are wont to do in considering the sexual passion. In short, I would have men and women so arrange their lives that they shall always, at all times, be free beings in this regard as in all others. The limit of abstinence or indulgence can be fixed by the individual alone, what is normal for one being excess for another, and what is excess at one period of life being normal at another. And as to the effects of such normal gratification of such normal appetite upon population, I would have them conscientiously controlled, as they can be, are to some extent now, and will be more and more through the progress of knowledge. The birth rate of France and of native-born Americans gives evidence of such conscious control.
"But," say the advocates of marriage, "what is there in marriage to interfere with the free development of the individual? What does the free development of the individual mean, if not the expression of manhood and womanhood? And what is more essential to either than parentage and the rearing of young? And is not the fact that the latter requires a period of from fifteen to twenty years, the essential need which determines the permanent home?" It is the scientific advocate of marriage that talks this way. The religious man bases his talk on the will of God, or some other such metaphysical matter. I do not concern myself with him; I concern myself only those who contend that as Man is the latest link in evolution, the same racial necessities which determine the social and sexual relations of allied races will be found shaping and determining these relations in Man; and that, as we find among the higher animals that the period of rearing the young to the point of caring for themselves usually determines the period of conjugality, it must be concluded that the greater attainments of Man, which have so greatly lengthened the educational period of youth, must likewise have fixed the permanent family relation as the ideal condition for humanity. This is but the conscious extension of what unconsciousness, or perhaps semi-conscious adaptation, had already determined for the higher animals, and in savage races to an extent. If people are reasonable, sensible, self-controlled (as to other people they will keep themselves anyway, no matter how things are arranged), does not the marriage state secure this great fundamental purpose of the primal social function, which is at the same time an imperative demand of individual development, better than any other arrangement? With all its failures, is it not the best that has been tried, or with our present light has been conceived?
In endeavoring to prove the opposite of this contention, I shall not go to the failures to prove my point. It is not my purpose to show that a vast number of marriages do not succeed; the divorce court records do that. But as one swallow doesn't make a summer, nor a flock of swallows either, so divorces do not in themselves prove that marriage in itself is a bad thing, only that a goodly number of individuals make mistakes. This is, indeed, an unanswerable argument against the indissolubility of marriage, but not against marriage itself. I will go to the successful marriages --the marriages in which whatever the friction, man and wife have spent a great deal of agreeable time together; in which the family has been provided for by honest work decently paid (as the wage-system goes), of the father, and preserved within the home by the saving labor and attention of the mother; the children given a reasonable education and started in life on their own account, and the old folks left to finish up life together, each resting secure in the knowledge that he has a tried friend until death severs the bond. This, I conceive, is the best form that marriage can present, and I opine it is oftener dreamed of than realized. But sometimes it is realized. Yet from the viewpoint that the object of life should be the development of individuality, such have lived less successfully than many who have not lived so happily.
And to the first great point--the point that physical parentage is one of the fundamental necessities of self-expression: here, I think, is where the factor of consciousness is in process of overturning the methods of life. Life, working unconsciously, blindly sought to preserve itself by generation, by manifold generation. The mind is simply staggered by the productivity of a single stalk of wheat, or of a fish, or of a queen bee, or of a man. One is smitten the appalling waste of generative effort; numbed with helpless pity for the little things, the infinitude of little lives, that must come forth and suffer and die of starvation, of exposure, as a prey to other creatures, and all to no end but that out of the multitude a few may survive and continue the type! Man, at war with nature and not yet master of the situation, obeyed the same instinct, and by prolific parentage maintained his war. To the Hebrew patriarch as to the American pioneer, a large family meant strength, the wealth of brawn and sinew to continue the conquest of forest and field. It was the only resource against annihilation. Therefore, the instinct towards physical creation was one of the most imperative determinants of action.
Now the law of all instinct is, that it survives long after the necessity which created it has ceased to exist, and acts mischievously. The usual method of reckoning with such a survival since such and such a thing exists, it is an essential part of the structure, not obliged to account for itself and bound to be gratified. I am perfectly certain, however, that the more conscious consciousness becomes, or in other words, the more we become aware of the conditions of life and our relations therein, their new demands and the best way of fulfilling them, the more speedily will instincts no longer demanded be dissolved from the structure.
How stands the war upon nature now? Why, so -that short of a planetary catastrophe, we are certain of the conquest? Consciousness! The alert brain! The dominant will! Invention, discovery, mastery of hidden forces. We are no longer compelled to use the blind method of limitless propagation to equip the race with hunters and trappers and fishers and sheep-keepers and soil-tillers and breeders. Therefore, the original necessity which gave rise to the instinct of prolific parentage is gone; the instinct itself is bound to die, and is dying, but will die faster as men grasp more and more of the whole situation. In proportion as the parenthood of the brain becomes more and more prolific, as ideas spread, multiply, and conquer, the necessity for great physical production declines. This is my first contention. Hence the development of individuality does no longer necessarily imply numerous children, nor indeed, necessarily any children at all. That is not to say that no one will want children, nor to prophecy race suicide. It is simply to say that there will be fewer born, with better chances of surviving, developing, and achieving. Indeed, with all its clash of tendencies, the consciousness of our present society is having his driven home to it.
Supposing that the majority will still desire, or let me go further and say do still desire, this limited parentage, the question now becomes: Is this the overshadowing need in the development of the individual, or are there other needs equally imperative? If there are other needs equally imperative, must not these be taken equally into account in deciding the best manner of conducting one's life? If there are not other needs equally imperative, is it not still an open question whether the married state is the best means of securing it? In answering these questions, I think it will again be safe to separate into a majority and a minority. There will be a minority to whom the rearing of children will be the great dominant necessity of their being, and a majority to whom this will be one of their necessities. Now what are the other necessities? The other physical and mental appetites! The desire for food and raiment and housing after the individual's own taste; the desire for sexual association, not for reproduction; the artistic desires; the desire to know, with its thousand ramifications, which may carry the soul from the depths of the concrete to the heights of the abstract; the desire to do, that is, to imprint one's will upon the social structure, whether as a mechanical contriver, a force harnesser, a combiner, a dream translator, -whatever may be the particular mode of the personal organization.
The desire for food, shelter, and raiment, it should at all times lie within the individual's power to furnish for himself. But the method of home-keeping is such that after the relation has been maintained for a few years, the interdependence of one on the other has become so great that each is somewhat helpless when circumstance destroys the combination, the man less so, the woman wretchedly so. She has done one thing in a secluded sphere, and while she may have learned to do that thing well (which is not certain, the method of training is not at all satisfactory), it is not a thing which has equipped her with the confidence necessary to go about making an independent living. She is timid above all, incompetent to deal with the conditions of struggle. The world of production has swept past her; she knows nothing of it. On the other hand, what sort of an occupation is it for her to take domestic service under some other woman's rule? The conditions and pay of domestic service are such that every independent spirit would prefer to slave in a factory, where at least the slavery ends with the working hours. As for men, only a few days since a staunch free unionist told me, apparently without shame, that were it not for his wife he would be a tramp and a drunkard, simply because he is unable to keep a home; and in his eyes the chief merit of the arrangement is that his stomach is properly cared for. This is a degree of helplessness which I should have thought he would have shrunk from admitting, but is nevertheless probably true. Now this is one of the greatest objections to the married condition, as it is to any other condition which produces like results. In choosing one's economic position in society, one should always bear in mind that it should be such as should leave the individual uncrippled -an all-round person, with both productive and preservative capacities, a being pivoted within.
Concerning the sexual appetite, irrespective of reproduction, the advocates of marriage claim, and with some reason, that it tends to preserve normal appetite and satisfaction, and is both a physical and moral safeguard against excesses, with their attendant results, disease. That is does not do so entirely, we have ample and painful proof continuously before our eyes. As to what it may accomplish, it is almost impossible to find out the truth; for religious asceticism has so built the feeling of shame into the human mind, on the subject of sex, that the first instinct, when it is brought under discussion, seems to be to lie about it. This is especially the case with women. The majority of women usually wish to create the impression that they are devoid of sexual desires, and think they have paid the highest compliment to themselves when they say, "Personally, I am very cold; I have never experienced such an attraction." Sometimes this is true, but oftener it is a lie -a lie born of centuries of the pernicious teachings of the Church. A roundly developed person will understand that she pays no honor to herself by denying herself fullness of being, whether to herself or of herself; though, without doubt, where such a deficiency really exists, it may give room for an extra growth of some other qualities, perhaps of higher value. In general, however, notwithstanding women's lies, there is no such deficiency. In general, young, healthy beings of both sexes desire such relations. What then? Is marriage the best answer to the need? Suppose they marry, say at twenty years, or thereabouts, which will be admitted as the time when sexual appetite is most active; the consequence is (I am just now leaving children out of account) that the two are thrown too much and too constantly in contact, and speedily exhaust the delight of each other's presence. Then irritations begin. The familiarities of life in common breed contempt. What was once a rare joy becomes a matter of course, and loses all its delicacy. Very often it becomes a physical torture to one (usually the woman), while it still retains some pleasure to the other, for the reason that bodies, like souls, do most seldom, almost never, parallel each other's development. And this lack of parallelism is the greatest argument to be produced against marriage. No matter how perfectly adapted to each other two people may be at any given time, it is not the slightest evidence that they will continue to be so. And no period of life is more deceptive as to what future development may be than the age I have just been speaking of, the age when physical desires and attractions being strongest, they obscure or hold in abeyance the other elements of being.
The terrible tragedies of sexual antipathy, mostly for shame's sake, will never be revealed. But they have filled the Earth with murder. And even in those homes where harmony has been maintained, and all is apparently peaceful, it is mainly so through the resignation and self-suppression of either the man or the woman. One has consented to be largely effaced, for the preservation of the family and social respect.
But awful as these things are, these physical degradations, they are not so terrible as the ruined souls. When the period of physical predominance is past, and soul-tendencies begin more and more strongly to assert themselves, how dreadful is the recognition that one is bound by common parentage to one to remain in the constant company of one from whom one finds oneself going farther and farther away in thought every day. -"Not a day," exclaim the advocates of "free unions." I find such exclamation worse folly than the talk of "holy matrimony" believers. The bonds are there, the bonds of life in common, the love of the home built by joint labor, the habit of association and dependence; they are very real chains, binding both, and not to be thrown off lightly. Not in a day or a month, but only after long hesitation, struggle, and grievous, grievous pain, can the wrench of separation come. Oftener it does not come at all.
A chapter from the lives of two men recently deceased will illustrate my meaning. Ernest Crosby, wedded, and I assume happily, to a lady of conservative thought and feeling, himself the conservative, came into his soul's own at the age of thirty-eight, while occupying the position of Judge of the International Court at Cairo. From then on, the whole radical world knows Ernest Crosby's work. Yet what a position was his compelled by honor to continue the functions of a social life which he disliked! To quote the words of his friend, Leonard Abbot, "a prisoner in his palatial home, waited on by servants and lackeys. Yet to the end he remained enslaved by his possessions." Had Crosby not been bound, had not union and family relations with one who holds very different views of life in faith and honor held him, should we not have had a different life-sum? Like his great teacher, Tolstoy, likewise made absurd, his life contradicted by his works, because of his union with a woman who has not developed along parallel lines.
The second case, Hugh O. Pentecost. From the year 1887 on, whatever were his special tendencies, Pentecost was in the main a sympathizer with the struggle of labor, an opposer of oppression, persecution and prosecution in all forms. Yet through the influence of his family relations, because he felt in honor bound to provide greater material comfort and a better standing in society than the position of a radical speaker could give, he consented at one time to be the puppet of those he had most strenuously condemned, to become a district attorney, a prosecutor. And worse than that, to paint himself as a misled baby for having done the best act of his life, to protest against the execution of the Chicago Anarchists. That this influence was brought to bear upon him, I know from his own lips; a repetition, in a small way, of the treason of Benedict Arnold, who for his Tory wife's sake laid everlasting infamy upon himself. I do not say there was no self-excusing in this, no Eve-did-tempt-me taint, but surely it had its influence. I speak of these two men because these instances are well known; but everyone knows of such instances among more obscure persons, and often where the woman is the one whose higher nature is degraded by the bond between herself and her husband.
And this is one side of the story. What of the other side? What of the conservative one who finds himself bound to one who outrages every principle in his or hers? People will not, and cannot, think and feel the same at the same moments, throughout any considerable period of life; and therefore, their moments of union should be rare and of no binding nature.
I return to the subject of children. Since this also is a normal desire, can it not be gratified without the sacrifice of individual freedom required by marriage? I see no reason why it cannot. I believe that children may be as well brought up in an individual home, or in a communal home, as in a dual home; and that impressions of life will be far pleasanter if received in an atmosphere of freedom and independent strength than in an atmosphere of secret repression and discontent. I have no very satisfactory solutions to offer to the various questions presented by the child-problem; but neither do the advocates of marriage. Certain to me it is, that no one of the demands of life should ever be answered in a manner to preclude future free development. I have seen no great success from the old method of raising children under the indissoluble marriage yoke of the parents. (Our conservative parents probably consider their radical children great failures, though it probably does not occur to them that their system is in any way at fault.) Neither have I observed a gain in the child of the free union. Neither have I observed that the individually raised child is any more likely to be a success or a failure. Up to the present, no one has given a scientific answer to the child problem. Those papers which make a specialty of it, such as Lucifer, are full of guesses and theories and suggested experiments; but no infallible principals for the guidance of intentional or actual parents have as yet been worked out. Therefore, I see no reason why the rest of life should be sacrificed to an uncertainty.
That love and respect may last, I would have unions rare and impermanent. That life may grow, I would have men and women remain separate personalities. Have no common possessions with your lover more than you might freely have with one not your lover. Because I believe that marriage stales love, brings respect into contempt, outrages all the privacies and limits the growth of both parties, I believe that "they who marry do ill."
 She means the English evolutionist and freethinker Thomas Henry Huxley (1825-1895) and the German philosopher Karl Robert Eduard Von Hartmann (1842-1906).
 Dyer Daniel Lum (1839-1893) was an officer in the Union Army, then a Greenback-Labor Party member, a Knight of Labor, and then an anarchist. He became de Cleyre’s mentor from 1888 until his death and was infatuated with her, but it is unlikely and unknown whether she ever responded to his affections, even briefly (as some writers have suggested). The two anarchists wrote a novel together, which is now lost. Lum took his own life in New York after several years of depression.
 Theodore Roosevelt’s daughter Alice married Nicholas Longworth, a congressman from Ohio, about fifteen months before this lecture was delivered.
 The American lawyer and anti-imperialist leader Ernest Howard Crosby (1856-1907).
 Leonard Dalton Abbott (1878-1953) was a socialist at the time of this lecture, but became an important anarchist intellectual of New York from 1910.
 Leo Nikolaivich Tolstoy (1828-1910), the Russian novelist, became an important anarchist and pacifist sage from the early 1890s. He and his wife Sonya Andreyevna Behrs (1844-1919) had terrible quarrels during his late years.
 The radical orator and lawyer Hugh Owen Pentecost (1848-1907) began his career as a Baptist preacher and became interested in the concerns of the poor as time passed. Often changing (or starting new) denominations and then changing political lines, he identified as an anarchist for a few years from 1888, when he also became a freethinker and began publishing the small but popular monthly Twentieth Century . In 1880 he married his second wife Ida Gatling, daughter of the wealthy gun inventor R. J. Gatling. After his father-in-law lost his entire fortune, Pentecost became an attorney. He was nearly sworn in as an (appointed) Assistant District Attorney in Manhattan at the end of 1893, angering both his radical admirers and the conservative public.
Is Marriage a Failure?
by Henrietta Payne Westbrook
The following is Chapter 15 of Westbrook’s autobiographical novel The West-Brook Drives(1902), a book she devoted to her late husband’s memory. A note at the head of the chapter states that she had earlier presented it “to a parlor audience,” and that it furnished “entertainment for a stormy evening.” Five years after its publication, on April 28, 1907, Westbrook debated with Voltairine de Cleyre on the subject of marriage, reading a lecture entitled “They Who Marry Do Well” to The Radical Library of Philadelphia at 515 Pine Street, 2nd floor. We present this alongside de Cleyre’s 1907 lecture because it is as close as we’ll ever get to Westbrook’s 1907 version, and it may very well be the same text under an earlier title. We preserve as much of the original format and editing as is possible.
Rhode Island-born Henrietta Payne Westbrook (1834-1909) was a physician and freethinker of Philadelphia, graduating from Women’s Medical College in 1880. She was the second wife of the former Protestant minister, then coal mine operator, then judge Richard Brodhead Westbrook (1820-1899), sometimes a leading figure of the US secular movement. Richard was the author of Marriage and Divorce (1870), and he later raised ethical issues relating to marriage laws. While not anarchists themselves, Henrietta and Richard were active members of the anarchist-led Ladies Liberal League for several years, beginning in 1892. They were also friends, and sometime mentors, of the sex radical Ida C. Craddock.
Answer. No! Wedlock may be a failure, but marriage never.
What is marriage?
Before we prepared to discuss the question of its failure, we must have a closer conception of what constitutes marriage.
The truly ideal marriage is a union of a man and a woman, so perfect, they may be truly said to be “one flesh,” and one mind.
In the beautiful allegory of Eve in Eden, the twain being one flesh is clearly taught. In the progress of the race, in the evolution of ideas, we have come to include the one mind also.
The ideal wife of to-day is not a lovely Eve of flesh and blood, but she is beside that, a magnificent Minerva, springing full fledged from the brain of her Jupiter, and predestined to set the world astir, and lift it to a higher plane, by her John Wards and her Robert Elsmeres.
Man is no longer sole prince of Intellect, but doth share his realm or reason with his companion, woman. Henceforth, side by side, step by step, the ideal couple walk together.
“Bearing each other’s crosses,
Wearing each other’s crown.”
I think that it was Theodore Parker who compared marriage to a sum in fractions. Some, he said, were only an eighth, or a quarter married, while many others were half married, and a few others were wholly so.
These last are like “mixed streams of meeting rivers, whose blended waters are no more distinguished, but roll into the sea one common flood.”
Marriage is a law of nature. We meet its prototype even in the simplest forms of creation. Its object is perpetuation of the species, and ultimate happiness of the race.
In our present state of existence food is necessary to our existence, and a beneficent Providence has ordained that appetite shall wait upon necessity, and give us pleasure in our feeding; so marriage is for a pure and holy purpose; and love is the desire that leads to it.
Thus it has been said, “Love makes the world go round.”
There are numberless persons today who will confess, I am far happier married; not for all the wealth of the Orient would I be unmarried.” And as to the multiplication –the replenishing the earth –how else should we be here tonight?
Whatever unborn generations may say, we must declare the object has been accomplished. It is a success.
Many make the mistake of confusing wedlock with marriage. Now wedlock is the legal union of two persons who publicly pledge themselves for various reasons, to remain in more or less willing community and combination.
In mere wedlock, I grant you, although it may become a heaven, there is usually a locally constructed hell.
I have seen pairs tied together at which I felt like exclaiming, “O horror! Horror!! After this alliance, let the tigers match with hinds, and wolves with sheep; and every creature couple with its foe.”
How many such have, when too late, cried out in bitterness of soul.
“O for a curse upon the cunning priest,
Who conjured us together in a yoke that galls us so!”
Many a man leads to the hymeneal altar the woman who is to be his torment and his ruin. Many a woman goes to the altar, like the lamb to the slaughter, with the man, who is to be, to all intents and purposes, her murderer!
I, who speak to you, have stood by and seen the death blows dealt, and I was powerless to prevent. I know of many cases where the husband has been the direct cause of the wife’s death. Yet the law could take no hold on him. There are wounds which leave no external mark, and yet a physician may discover them.
Words, and even looks, can stab as fatally as knives.
I have seen those who were “abroad too kind, while at home ‘tis steadfast hate, and one eternal tempest of debate.”
Who among you has not known several families where the master was an object of terror? –where mirth was silenced, and all cheerfulness vanished, and callers suddenly remembered a previous engagement, when the gentleman of the house appeared?”
Some men think variety the spice of life, and having by winning wiles secured a wife, seek then “fresh fields and pastures new,” but know, young man, that
“In the calm of truth-tied love there is a joy
Which novelty’s stormy raptures never yield.”
I have known someone who after a few years, or months, of married life, imagined they had compassed the sphere of the one by their side; and I have found them utter strangers to each other. What? Two immortal souls, with infinite possibilities, entirely fathom and exhaust one another?
It cannot be. There has been no union yet of two souls who think they have done this.
Yes, we admit what Peter Pindar says,
“Wedlock is a saucy, sad, familiar state,
Where folks are very apt to scold and hate.”
We insist, however, on the distinction between mere wedlock and marriage. True marriage is the nurse of all that is good. “In her arms sweet virtue smiles, appearing, as in truth she is, Heaven-born, and is destined to the skies again.”
Love is eternal, and in true marriage, [it] grows.
What is this which the poet Moore says to his love in his old age?
“Although my heart in earlier youth,
Might kindle with more wild desire,
Believe me, it hath gained in truth,
Much more than it hath lost in fire;
The flame now warms my inmost core,
That then but sparkled on my brow;
And though I seemed to love thee more,
Yet, oh! I love thee better now.”
I once found in a medical book belonging to a very unromantic friend of mine, and written on the fly-leaf, the following little poem addressed to the wedded one.
“We are growing old together;
When we drop the body’s veil,
The one will wait the other,
Within the silent pale.“Into the grand forever
Together we will glide;
No power in the ages
Our being will divide.
“We shall grow young toge’her,
What poet ever sung
The raptures of immortals,
Who love forever young!”
As the years go by there is a gracious trust, a delicious confidence, an ever-abiding tenderness, gradually and constantly developing. There is an increasing charm of intellect, a loveliness of life and heart, a beauty of spirit, far more enchanting than the springtime radiance of the merely physical beauty, which may have faded from the face with the first spell of sickness. “For we know that if the earthly house of this tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building (called character or self, the real person, the ego), a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens;” (the highest place of the soul).
We grant you that all, even in a true marriage, do not attain to this lofty ideal, but
“Of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these: it might have been.”
But alas! Dangers beset us on every hand. Eternal vigilance is the price of love as well as of liberty.
“A word unkind or wrongly taken!
Then ruder words will soon rush in
To spread the breach that words begin."
There is always danger—
“When eyes forget the gentle ray
They wore in courtship’s smiling day;
When voices lose the tone that shed
A tenderness round all they shed;
Then fast declining one by one,
The sweetnesses of love are gone.”
Remember love is dainty and divine. It keeps at the modest distance which itself lends enchantment. Love anticipates desire; it is obliging, and does and says sweet things.
O, maiden married, beware! The lover in the husband may be lost. “Cultivate the graces that did his heart allure. These, with thy wifely virtues, will his custody ensure.”
Honest marriage is said to be like a banqueting hall built in a garden where the delicious breaths of violets dwell. And so the garden is to be tended, and all courser perfumes kept out. I have seen a young man out a-courting, whose kid gloves and moustache seemed both to have been laid in lavender; for his breath was sweet as new-mown hay. But after some time of connubial felicity,
“With vulgar smells he saluted her nose
With gin, tobacco, and onions.”
But if it is important that women retain the affection that her charms have won, how much more important for the man to preserve her love and respect! How important to his happiness, to the happiness of their children –to everyone’s happiness. If any man has been wicked enough to deceive trusting, guileless girl into thinking him an angel, let him not be weak enough to undeceive her. Let him struggle to maintain the character he has assumed. In that way only may the offspring be great and good. It is a fact not generally known, that it matters not so much what the father of a child really is, as it matters what the mother of that child thinks he is. If she adores him, her babe will be endowed with the grand qualities which her love and imagination attribute to him.
Some pessimist has said, or sung, that one of the surest phases of love is love grown cold --but let us refuse to believe it. In true marriage, lovers have souls ever ardent and pure. Their affections are forever free from decline. The husband of the good wife, the Bible tells us, is “known in the gates when he sitteth with the elders of the land” –the city fathers. “She is not afraid of the snow, for her household (including her husband, of course) is clothed in scarlet” (red flannel, I suppose).
I met with one such case recently. A gentleman was thrown from his carriage, and taken up insensible. As his clothing was removed we could not but mark how immaculate was his linen; how perfect in all its appointments. Even if we had not known him, we could not have failed to recognize that this was a married man.
Suppose some of the bachelors of our acquaintance met with such an accident! Think of the possible revelations!
“The treasures of the deep are not so precious as are the concealed comforts of a man locked up in woman’s love.”5 One scents the air of blessing as one comes near his dwelling place. A good wife is man’s “guardian angel o’er his life presiding, doubling his pleasures and his cares dividing.” In his house, “she is a light shining within, when all without is night.”
If a man who has a good wife is known in the gates, no less is the woman who has a good husband. To such we would say, quoting Shakespeare, “Down on your knees and thank heaven, fasting for a good man’s love.”
Do you know, a woman who is conscious of exclusive possession of a true man’s devotion, never grows old? She has found the fountain of youth. The hair may turn gray, but it is a crown of glory. Even the wrinkles of age become but the lines of an added beauty. Happiness, conjugal happiness, keeps the heart always young.
The waves of affliction may have rolled over her; for “into all lives some rain must fall,” but he has “kissed off every tear as soon as shed.” Her clothing, according to scripture, is “silk and purple.”
To such a husband as hers, Mrs. Hemans said,
“I bless thee for kind looks and words,
Showered on my path like dew,
For all the love in those deep eyes
A gladness ever new! “For the voice which ne’er to mine replied,
But in kindly tones of cheer;
For every spring the happiness
My soul hath tasted here. “I bless the for the noble heart,
The tender and the true,
Where mine hath found the happiest rest,
That e’er fond woman knew.”
Just contrast this with the other side, where,
“The hour of wedlock ends the female reign!
And we give all we have to buy a chain;
Hire men to be our lords, who were our slaves,
And bribe our lovers to be perjured knaves.
O how they swear to heaven and the bride,
They will be kind to her and none beside,
And to themselves, the while in secret swear,
They will be kind to everyone but her!”
Or take this one, where the young wife begins to realize that theirs is only a fractional marriage, and she mournfully says,
“How sad it will be love when we two become
You thoughtless of me, and I careless of you,
And our pet names grown rusty with nothing to do.
How strange it will seem when the witchery goes
When your dream of me loses its coleur de rose,
When every day serves some new faults to disclose;
Ah Me how sad it will be!”
And still we say it need not be.
Whatever else you forget in married life, never forget your manners. Always be polite to each other. Would you snap and snarl at a stranger? How much less at your husband, or your wife. Carefully observe all the rules of good breeding. An appropriate present to a bridal pair is a book on etiquette. As soon as one finds himself neglecting the little courtesies of life toward his companion, it is high time to take an account of stock–a failure is threatened in that marriage relation.
Be lovers all your lives, is the advice I give. In politics you may sometimes safely differ, but in religion, never! Have one faith, and be sure you spend your vacations together. Enjoy your recreations and your pleasures in common.
The golden rule is quite as valuable here as elsewhere.
Would the husband enjoy hearing his wife rave over some handsome man? How then expect her to relish his little joke about having lost his heart over some fresher face, or prettier form! Before entering upon gallantries with other women, let him ask himself, “how should I like my beloved to receive such attentions from another man?” Not long ago I heard a gentleman say to his wife, “My dear, I know you are all right, but it would be such a mortification to me to have that coxcomb Jones think he could flirt with you. I could never get over it.” Yet that same man had often publicly flirted with other ladies. It did not seem to occur to him that his wife might have similar feelings on the same subject. It was very evident he did not do as he would be done by!Marriage will be less likely to become a failure as men become more unselfish, more pure, more true, more truly monogamic.
Did you ever think of it, what is the reason a married man’s opinion carries more weight than that of a single man? Why is the former broader and more comprehensive in his views, more honest in his policy, more charitable, and more humane?
The man rightly married is known in the gates for a less material and an even more potent reason than is suggested in the Bible. He has the advantage of having two heads, which are always better than one. Before going out to meet the elders he has wisely consulted with his wife, and so has the judgment of a double intellect. What wonder he outstrips his single brother in honor and preferment!
It is not that men and women are so like each other, but so unlike, that we insist upon a fair representation of both.
Behold a miracle –a marvel of nature –that two halves so diverse should make one perfect person. It is this very diversity which constitutes the basis of companionship, and is an essential part of matrimony. The individual differences are uniting differences.
“And the lord God said, ‘it is not good for man to be alone.’”
In the ancient story, Adam’s Eve was made specially for him. Undoubtedly there is a Jill for every Jack, a wife for every man. It is his business to discover her –to find the woman who, above all others, has the disposition and temperament so completely adopted to his own, that a union already exists between them that it may be properly said, “they are not twain but one flesh.” There is such sympathy of soul, “though meeting thought, and will anticipating will.”
The motto which Lucretia Mott gave to the newly married couple was this: “In the true marriage relation the independence of the husband and wife is equal, their dependence mutual, and their obligations reciprocal.”
Having adopted this sentiment, let the husband and wife love so perfectly that each prefers the other’s comfort and satisfaction to his own, and then there can be no domestic strife; then there is eternal harmony; heaven has begun on earth; we dwell in paradise. Then marriage is not, and cannot be, a failure. Then marriage is a grand success.
 Robert Elsmere is a fictional character in the 1888 novel bearing his name by Mary Augusta Ward (England, 1851-1920). The plot followed a marriage under stress.
 Theodore Parker (United States, 1810-1860) was a Unitarian minister and theologian, an abolitionist, and a supporter of women’s rights.
 This is from Love of Fame, The Universal Passion by Edward Young (London, 1752).
 Peter Pindar was the pen-name of comic poet John Wolcot (England, 1738-1819).
 She quotes the English playwright and poet Thomas Middleton (1580-1627).
 She quotes the English poet Samuel Rogers (1763-1855).
 From the Bible, Proverbs Chapter 31.
 From As You Like It , Act III, Scene V.
 The popular English poet Felicia Dorothea Browne Hemans (1793-1835), who separated permanently, but amicably, from her husband in 1818.
 Lucretia Coffin Mott (United States, 1793-1880), the Quaker abolitionist and champion of women’s rights who lived in Philadelphia from 1821.