Love Holds Everything for a Woman.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 18805, 6 July 1929, Page 19 (Supplement)

Love Holds Everything for a Woman .

By URSULA BLOOM . {The Well-known Novelist .

J.OVE holds everything for a woman; it is her life. She is dedicated to matrimony from the first, matrimony which being translated means "office of mother.’’ We have inherited grandmamma’s qualities though we may struggle against it, and try to be modern. You can’t kill Eve within us. It has got to be. We love deeply, tenderly, with tar more of the maternal in our attitude towards the man than of the accepted passion. Most women find their ardour lasts through their wooing, but later there comes the deep, serene peace of solid affection: they love their man as they have never loved anything else; they, of course, would never look at another man . . . they do not see this is exactly why fhey are created. to love deeply and tenderly. But the man is not the same. lie has other interests outside his love life. He has his career. Man primarily was a hunter. He cannot dis-associate himself from his hunting. A man can thrill with love for his wife one hour and be quite content, having forgotten ail about it, having a pow-wow with his business friends the next. He is made that way. He is a creature of outside interests and it is good that he should be so. Adam can love several women, but it does not make him love Eve one whit the less. A man does not feel love like a woman, he never will. He is a creature of whims and moods and swayed by an insurgent physical being; he has vital outside interests—

love is not his whole existence. Shut a woman up in a cage and treat her entirely with love, and she will be blissfully content; she will have her husband and her babies, and she will ask nothing else of life. But try it with a man. It will be excellent for a few w r eeks, and then he will chafe against it; there will be the attraction of the office, he will begin to wonder how the golf course is looking, whether shares. are up or down, and why the devil he can’t get back to brass tacks. For the enduring tender love give me a woman’s condition every time; it may be a little pathetic, it very often is, but it is serenely beautiful. A woman having her one great love will absorb herself in it to the utter exclusion of all else. A man can never do that. I do not say that he is eternally unfaithful, that he flits- from flower to flower. He will, it is true, come home every night for years, he will be keenly interested in his home, in her, in his maturing family. But it will never be to*the exclusion of all else. Perhaps his is the broader view. I once said to my husband, “Wouldn’t it be glorious to be alone on a desert island with you for ever and ever,” in the usual woman’s attitude of mind. He said enthusiastically, “Rather,” then, after a moment, “As long as we could get newspapers.” Sirs, I ask you. ' (Anglo-American N.S. Copyright).