Strong sense of duty may do much to correct the ruinous notion of young women regarding marriage, but it is not enough in itself. Women of strong sense of duty are probably commoner than men with the same desirable qualification. Yet all of us know of men who have strayed from married mates who were pure, faithful, and dutiful--well, everything that a conscientious servant could be. But, if a man’s wife is no more to him than a first-class servant, she cannot prevent him yielding to temptation if he is so disposed. No man worthy of the name marries for the sake of obtaining a servant. It is far more convenient, besides infinitely cheaper, to obtain servants and housekeepers through the ordinary channels. Religion is the strongest influence for good that humanity knows, but religion alone cannot make a perfect wife of a well-meaning woman. There is no condition of life in which one virtue can be successfully substituted for another, and no amount of prayer and faith can make a good wife of a good woman without distinct conjugal impulse and purpose.
Neither can the maternal instinct, an honest impulse which of itself has made wives of many good women, who otherwise never would have married at all. To be the mother of a man’s children should and may entitle a woman to high respect, but many Mormons, who heartily respect their wives, do not hesitate to seek companionship of other women.
A woman needs the conjugal instinct to make a good wife of herself and a happy and faithful man of her husband. If it is not in her she should acquire it before giving her hand and life to any man. The better the man, the more persistently should she hesitate before marrying without this requisite quality. The mother who does not inculcate the necessity of this impulse and quality is more remiss of her duty than if she left her children’s stockings undarned and their dinners uncooked.
As nearly all affection concerns itself with the relations of the sexes, and particularly with what is alleged to be love, it is commonly assumed that young women are sufficiently instructed through desultory reading on what is frequently called the grand passion. This appellation, “grand passion,” truly describes what the novelists usually give us as love, and is no more education or preparation of the young person contemplating marriage than the outside of a lot of school-books would be to a student desiring to graduate at a college. The novelist prudently ends his story where marriage begins. Up to that time everything is very plain sailing for both man and woman, but there, where the necessity for knowledge begins, the novelist discreetly ends his tale. How can he do more? Were he to make his story as it should be, in the light of human experience, it is doubtful whether young men and young women would read it at all.