WHAT DO WOMEN ADMIRE MOST IN MEN?
People generally admire in others the qualities they do not
themselves possess--The sexes differ in their opinions of
infidelity and its causes--The eleventh commandment: Never confess.
I believe that what sexes 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 sexes 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 circumstances 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 passion 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.