Try to make every man you meet, even a passing acquaintance, better. Resolve that you will know no man whom you will not influence decidedly for good. So act that when you look back in after years you can honestly say that you tried to make every man whom you knew well, a Christian. So strive to lead young men to Christ that you will see the fruits of your efforts dotted all along your path of life. Let every man whom you know be able to say, as he looks back, “I have been a better man for knowing her.”
In all your intercourse with men, do everything to ennoble and nothing to lower his character. “Let him see that you are a true woman and a Christian: one whose life is beautiful in its maidenly dignity and attractive loveliness.”
CHAPTER VII.
THE SECRET OF THE WIDOW’S POWER.
There is no doubt that a widow can, if she choose, attract a man where a girl is powerless to do so. She has a charm which is irresistible when she pleases to exercise it. This power lies greatly in her knowledge of man-nature. It lies also in her taking a man just as he is. Instead of wounding his vanity by trying to make him conform to her ideas, she makes him pleased with himself as he is. Girls have sharp corners which hurt a man if he runs against them; widows never have. Girls are unkind; widows never are. Girls like to tease and ridicule a man; a widow is too wise to do so. Girls will wound even a man who is not sensitive; a widow soothes. Girls never remember a man’s feelings; a widow never forgets them.
She has studied one man thoroughly. She knows his peculiarities, his weaknesses, his strong points, his likes and dislikes. In knowing one man well, she knows his sex. She has learned well what will please one man. In learning that she knows what will please all men. She has learned to sink her own individuality. She has learned to follow, and has no desire to lead. She knows that men like to be obeyed. She knows they like their ease. She knows they would rather be amused, entertained, than to dance attendance. She knows that the best way to entertain a man is to make him talk of himself or his hobby. She never minds how much he rides this hobby when he is with her. A girl would forbid its entrance. A widow may even get up and ride with him. When a girl would show a man she has no interest in his affairs, a widow would make him believe she was even more interested than he was. A girl would say, “I get so sick of hearing that man talk on that subject that I won’t listen to him.” The widow draws him out. Where a girl would cut him short, she encourages him to go on at length. He begins to connect her with his hobby. He learns to come eagerly to her with every new development, sure of sympathy. When he is downcast about it, he comes to her as quickly for the encouragement he is sure to get. He begins to feel that there is no one in the world who understands and appreciates him as she does. The rest soon follows.
A widow is sympathetic—she is sincere in that sympathy. She has suffered and feels for all who suffer. She can understand a heartache, because she knows what it is to have her dearest earthly hopes shattered. Her life is a disappointment, and she can weep with those who have been disappointed. She has found out that life is not a bed of roses only, but has many thorns. She will help soothe the wounds that thorns have made in other hearts. She knows that men have troubles, little or great; and she knows too much to give him any more. She has stood by one man as he has fought with the world, and knows that it is woman’s province to strengthen him by her sympathy and helpful word for the battle. She knows that when a man seeks a woman’s society he wants peace. She knows his vanity is wounded every day in his contact with men, and that when he comes to her he wants it flattered.
So a widow tries to make a man happy and comfortable. She rarely alludes to her own grief. It is more interesting because she does not. She mutely appeals for sympathy, while she gives that same sympathy. Few young girls know anything about sorrow; they cannot understand what it is. They are generally so full of themselves they cannot sympathize. Herein lies their weakness, and herein lies a widow’s strength. Sympathy is a woman’s greatest power. Girls are self-centred; a widow never is. A girl is absorbed in her own pleasure; a widow has learned to make the pleasures of another hers. A girl puts herself forward prominently; a widow sinks her personality. She has learned to do so. She knows the man with whom she is talking is more interested in himself than he is in her. She knows that no man cares as much for her interests, plans, hopes, as he does for his own; and she talks of his only. She lets him take the lead in the conversation, she follows.
A young girl has moods; a widow has none. She is always the same. A man is sure of her. He knows when he leaves her, she will be the same when he meets her again. I have known girls to lose an admirer by a cool greeting or change of demeanor. A widow never would. It is said that Madame Recamier’s great charm was her gracious sweetness, which was under all circumstances the same.
A girl fancies that a man thinks of her all the time, as she does of him. She likely thinks of him all day and dreams of him by night. A man, out in the world, is engrossed in business—that is his first consideration. It is only his leisure he can give to her. He goes to her for his pleasure. A widow knows this. She has other things to occupy her mind, and comes as fresh to him as he does to her. She knows that he has not lived over and over her last remarks, and she has not dwelt upon his. She makes no mistakes in estimating his affection for her.
She never puts his affection to a test. Girls love to do so. A widow knows that it will have to be a pretty strong one that will stand it. She never makes any experiments. She knows him in and out. She knows what will please him and what will not please him. She knows what flatters his vanity and what will drive him away. Her lessons have been too thorough to allow any mistake.