A DEVOTED WIFE.

South Canterbury Times, Issue 3362, 12 January 1884, Page 2

A DEVOTED WIFE.

It has been said that Disraeli’s means were slender; his marriage in 1839, two years after he had entered Parliament, lifted him for good out of penury. The devoted lady who became his wife not only brought him a fortune, but the most valuable companionship. She made herself the minister of his ambition with an extraordinary singleness of purpose—relieving him of all domestic cares, attending to his smallest comforts, warning him against enemies, and striving to recruit friends for him. Those who knew her remember how every morning, when she had settled her household affairs with a quiet domineer, ing activity she would sit down to look through heaps of newspapers, reviews, and even blue book, to spare her husband this fatigue. At bis ten o'clock breakfast he heard from her all the news of the day, got the pith of the leaders from the “ Times,” was told of everything printed in his favor, and often received a useful budget of facts, statistics and anecdotes bearing upon speeches which he was going to deliver. From the time of bis marriage a great change came over Disraeli. The fervid selfassertedness of his bachelor days was put off; the florid imperfections of his dress were corrected; be became less anxious to shine than to please, less careful to convince than to amuse. His sure helpmate scored for him, so to say ; marking down all the points he made, watching the effects of his conversational shots, and reporting everything faithfully to him, so that bo could never feel depressed under a sense of diminishing prowess. Only a man’s wife can do this for him. Mrs Disraeli, however, never succeeded in her own ambition of creating a political salon like Lady Palmerston’s or Lady Waldegravo’s. There was nothing genial about her ; she was too much absorbed in her husband to be a good hostess. If she gave a dinner she was more coo. corned to watch whether her husband was enjoying himself than to see how bis guests fared ; her eyes, if not her lips, said “ Hush I" when he spoke, and if after dinner he showed the slightest signs of fatigue or headache she made little ceremony about hinting to her visitors that they might begone. “ What shall I do P” she asked almost piteously of the late Lady Derby “ here is an ambassadress who has some atrocious scent on her handkerchief which he can’t bear. If she sits beside him at table his evening’s pleasure will be spoilt." Mrs Disraeli’s affectionate zeal had perhaps, in some respects, a hampering effect upon her husband’s progress in society; she might have served him better if she had worshipped him less. By proclaiming him the paragon of politics before the world was quite prepared to concur in her opinion, she threw upon him sometimes a slight sprinkling of ridicule. The Duchess of Sutherland called him humorously “ Un man dans du coton" —“ Temple Bar.”