CHAPTER XIII

THE WOMAN-HATER

Should a woman marry a woman-hater?--The portrait of a woman-hater-- The risk a woman runs in marrying a woman-lover--Take your chance, don't cast your pearls before swine.

Should a woman marry a woman-hater? Yes, some people say, because he will pay no attention to any other woman, and will be a faithful husband in all the force of the expression. A woman-hater is _par excellence_ a one-woman's man, and just the sort of man that a woman should wish to marry.

No, other people say, the woman-hater is a no-woman's man. A woman should marry a lover of her s.e.x, and feel proud to know that it is she whom he prefers to all and loves best of all. Of course, they admit that she will have to be careful and ever-watchful in order to keep alive the interest which her husband takes in her and the affection which he feels for her. But a woman-hater is a prig, and the male prig is the last man that a woman should care to marry.

I think the latter are right. The woman-hater hates all women, and will never be capable of any love for his wife any more than for any other woman. Only the sense of ownership will make him value her. He may like her, be a good friend to her, a hard-working and devoted husband, but he will never be a lover to her; and the husband who, during at least the first fifteen years of his married life, cannot now and then be the lover of his wife fails to give to that woman that bliss which is a perfect compensation for all the troubles and miseries of that which the Popes are fond of calling the Vale of Tears, and Mrs. Gamp 'the Wale of Tears.'

The woman-hater is a man who has never petted his mother, who has never been the 'chum' of his sisters, who as a boy has despised girls, and as a young man has treated them with disrespect and even contempt. This kind of man has never once in his life given a thought to woman, has never deemed it consistent with his dignity to devote a minute to the study of her character. He has never given way to her charms, he has never felt her influence, he has never learned to smile kindly at her little foibles and fads. The idea has never occurred to him to indulge her, to treat her, in turn, as a beloved child, even sometimes a spoiled one, as a friend whose advice is worth following nine times out of ten, as a sweet companion either for moments of pleasure or for those of studious retirement. For him woman is a necessary evil. He puts up with her, and is always glad when she is gone. She annoys him, provokes him--nay, even shocks him, and her frivolity is for him a constant source of torment. He breathes more freely when at last he is left alone or finds himself in the company of men at his club.

He is seldom generous, and is not infrequently a miser.

The woman-hater is always conceited, and most generally selfish, and conceit and selfishness are the two worst, the two most objectionable, pieces of furniture in the household of a married couple. The woman-hater is also dull, and often sulky, which is worse still. With him there can be no cheerfulness in the house, and dulness is the bitterest enemy of happiness in matrimony.

The woman-hater has not a redeeming fault or foible which may enable his wife to get hold of him. He has no weaknesses to make him lovable or even tolerable. He is ironclad, and a woman cannot come near him without getting a bruise of some sort or other. He will ever stand before his wife a perfect model for her to look up to, and all her pretty little womanly ways, being a closed letter to him, will be wretchedly wasted on him.

Like all conceited men, the woman-hater has no humour in him. He cannot for the life of him see a joke. A frivolous remark will make him frown.

He is a moral man with a vengeance, but all his morality and all the gold in the world are not worth the smile of a genial, cheerful husband. And, worst of all, the woman-hater is generally dyspeptic, and if a woman marries a dyspeptic man she is done for.

The man-flirt is the most despicable creature on earth, but the woman-hater is undoubtedly the most objectionable.

Yes, my dear lady, avoid the woman-hater, and, above all, don't marry him. Have to your wedded husband a lover of women, full of foibles and weaknesses, a man who understands and appreciates women. It will depend upon you whether that man will make the best of husbands or not.

With a woman-lover marriage is a risk; with a woman-hater it is a certainty. With the latter you will be casting pearls before swine.

Marry the former and take your chance.

CHAPTER XIV

WHAT DO WOMEN ADMIRE MOST IN MEN?

People generally admire in others the qualities they do not themselves possess--The s.e.xes differ in their opinions of infidelity and its causes--The eleventh commandment: Never confess.

I believe that what s.e.xes admire most in the other are the qualities which they do not generally possess themselves. For instance, a man will always tell you that the qualities he admires most in a woman are constancy, good, equal temper, and such others as his most flattering friends would never accuse him of possessing. If, on the other hand, you read the confession-books of women, you will invariably discover that the qualities they most admire in men are generosity, broad-mindedness, magnanimity, absence of prejudice, and a lofty sense of justice, of toleration, and of forgiveness. Now, some women may possess these qualities, but no one, I think, will say that they are eminently feminine virtues.

And it may also be added that what s.e.xes hate most each in the other are the very defects which they themselves not infrequently possess.

Out of twenty confession-books which I have this moment under my eyes, and in which is to be found the question, 'What defect do you hate most in man?' eighteen women have answered, 'Meanness.' That is just what you would expect, now, don't you think so?

Of course, there are women of whom it might be said, however preposterous the remark may sound, that they are not only perfect ladies, but also perfect gentlemen. These are glorious women. Now, don't smile; I know what I am saying. When you say of a woman that she is a perfect lady, the remark chiefly refers to her manners, the way she dresses and behaves in society, etc. When you say of a man that he is a perfect gentleman, it means that he is a man of considerate feelings, generous, magnanimous even, a man who could not do anything mean if he tried.

A woman who receives an anonymous letter about her husband, puts it in the fire, and never mentions the fact to him, behaves like a gentleman.

A man who receives an anonymous letter about his wife and shows it to her is a cur.

In a pretty play, the name of which escapes me just at present, a woman has compromised herself with a man. A letter from that man is delivered to her before her husband. The latter knows whom the letter is from.

His wife hands it to him.

'My dear, this letter is addressed to you. I have no right to open it,'

says the husband. 'Don't you want to read it yourself?'

The wife answers that she does not.

'Very well,' he says; 'then there is only one thing to do.'

And before her he throws it into the fire.

All the women in the audience applaud. So they should; but how many of them would behave in the same manner if such a letter from a woman came to their husband?

Meanness in a man is revolting to woman; but although many women cannot be accused of the defect, it must be admitted that it is often found in them.

Many a man who was sure that his wife was in earnest love with another man would be found ready to sacrifice himself and give his wife to that man. A celebrated English writer did it. Under similar circ.u.mstances a woman would rather give her husband or lover to the tiger of Mr. Frank R. Stockton.

A man will admit the possibility of his wife loving another man and being loved by him. He may grieve over it, but he will not despise her for it, or necessarily impute any low or degrading motive to her. But a woman will never admit that her husband can have fallen in love with another woman. She will only accuse him of being too amorous, and in her eyes that other woman can only be a 'low creature.' She will not stop a moment and reflect that by lowering that 'creature' she lowers herself, since her husband, for a time at any rate, may prefer that woman to her.

It will not enter her head that, maybe, her husband goes down on his knees and prays that he may forget that woman, but is conquered in the struggle, and cannot resist the fascination. No; for her the woman is an abandoned creature and her husband a blackguard. Every day in the novels she reads, she will give her sympathies to a man who has met with the misfortune which has befallen her husband and herself.

She will forget that if there was no pa.s.sion in this life, no human weaknesses, no pits and falls in the path of man and woman, there would be no drama, no great poetry--in fact, no literature, no art.

She will admit that no heart (man's or woman's) is free from the danger of being lost. She will admit that this may happen to any man, but not to her husband. You may give her to read and study all the works of Balzac, of Alexandre Dumas the younger, and of all the greatest dissectors of the human heart; she will learn nothing. The mind of a woman is a mixture of obstinacy and prejudice. When she reads the accounts of the proceedings of the Divorce Court, she exclaims of the respondent, if she be a woman: 'Poor thing! romantic, I suppose.' When the respondent is a man, she dismisses the whole thing with: 'Man's a beast.' She sometimes sympathizes with a co-respondent.

What women admire particularly in men is indulgence, the spirit of forgiveness, magnanimity. Their hero is the man of the play who, when his wife, falling at his feet, shrieks, 'I am not guilty!' takes her gently by the hand, embraces her, and whispers softly in her ears, like Dr. Primrose to his misguided daughter: 'And if thou wert, child, am I not here to protect thee, to comfort thee?' And, true enough, the situation is pathetic, thoroughly human, and that husband's role is sublime; but in real life not one woman out of a thousand would play that part.

For, even when woman forgives, it is out of consideration for her children--for her own sake, as it were, in order to avoid a scandal, an open avowal of the situation. She may forgive, but she will not forget.

It is true that in Mr. Arthur Pinero's beautiful play, 'The Profligate,' the wife forgives, and tells her husband she will help him bear it. But the offence was committed before the marriage. She has not been personally wronged or deceived, except in her estimation of the man she has married. Therefore she may forgive, although I do not envy that man's future in matrimonial life.

Conclusion: If a man should be unfortunate enough to deviate from the path of virtue after entering the holy estate of matrimony, let him follow the advice given by a great French jurisconsult to all prisoners about to appear before their judges: 'Never confess.' Only a very lofty woman will take him by the hand and, putting in the scales all he has done for her in life, will say: 'It leans on the right side.' A _rara avis_ this woman.

CHAPTER XV

CAN GRAt.i.tUDE ENGENDER LOVE?

Expecting grat.i.tude is asking for the price of a service--Love keeps out of it.

Has love anything to do with grat.i.tude? In other words, does grat.i.tude engender love? No; to kill a woman's love for him a man has only to keep on reminding her of what he has done to earn her grat.i.tude, and by the same means a woman will obtain the same result with a man.

A woman will often hate a man who lavishes money upon her, and will love the first man who comes along to whom she will owe no grat.i.tude, simply because the former degrades her by paying for her favours, whereas the latter enables her to regain her independence and to raise herself in her own estimation.