to the untrained man under thirty-five upon any subject
except himself. Bait him with different topics of universal interest, and
try to persuade him to leave his own point of view long enough to look
through the eyes of the world. And then notice the hopeless persistence
with which he avoids your dexterous efforts and mentally lies down to
worry his Ego again, like a dog with a bone.
The conceit of one of these men is the most colossal specimen of
psychological architecture in existence. As a social study, when I have
him under the microscope, I can enjoy this. I revel in it, just as I do in a
view of the ocean or the heavens at night--anything so vast that I cannot
see to the end of it. It suggests eternity or space. But oh! what I have
suffered from a mental contact with this phase of him in society!
Sometimes he really is ignorant--has no brains at all--and then my
suffering is lingering. Sometimes he really knows a great deal--has the
making of a man in him, only it lies fallow for want of training--and
then my suffering is acute. When success--business or social or athletic
or literary or artistic--comes to the untrained man under thirty-five, it
comes pitifully near being his ruin. The adulation of the world is more
intoxicating and more deadly than to drink absinthe out of a stein; more
insidious than opium; more fatal than poison. It unsettles the steadiest
brain and feeds the too-ravenous Ego with a food which at first he
deemed nectar and ambrosia, but which he soon comes to feel is the
staff of life, and no more than he deserves. With success should come
the determination, be you man or woman, to fall upon your knees every
day and pray Heaven for strength to keep from believing what people
tell you, so that you still may be bearable to your friends and livable to
your family.
I know that all this will fall unkindly upon the ears of many a worthy
man under thirty-five whose charm is still in embryo, and that, unless
he is very clever, he will be mortally offended, and never believe my
solemn assertion that I am the stanchest friend the man of possibilities
has. Let him take care how he resents my amiable brutality, or how he
denounces me as his enemy, for if I were not interested in the untrained
man under thirty-five I wouldn't bother with him, would I?
I know, too, that a diplomatic feminine contingency will raise a howl of
protest, and will read this aloud to men under thirty-five for the express
purpose of disclaiming all complicity with such heterodox views, and
doubtless will be able to make the men believe them. Tactful girls are a
necessity, and I approve of them. I do not in the least mind their
disclaiming my views to specific men, especially if I can catch their eye
for one subtle moment when the men are not looking. On this subject
there is a certain delicately veiled, comprehending, soul-satisfying,
mental wink going the rounds of the girls, indicating our comradeship
and unanimity of thought quite as understandingly as the fraternal grip
stands for fellowship among masons. We girls have been thinking these
things for a long time, and, with this declaration of independence, the
shackles will fall from many a girl's soul, because another girl has
dared to speak out in meeting.
Of course, I know, too, that girls with nice brothers and cousins and
husbands under thirty-five will also offer violent protest. I am perfectly
willing. Doubtless their feminine influence has circumvented nature to
such an extent that no one would suspect that their men were under
thirty-five. I only beg of them to remember that I am not discussing
girl-trained men or widowers. Both of these types are as near perfection
as a man can become.
A man whom girls have trained is really modest. Even at twenty he
does not think that he knows it all. He is willing to admit that his father
and mother have brains, and that thirty years' experience entitles them
to a hearing. He also is willing to give the girls a show, to humor them,
to find them interesting as studies, but never to claim to understand
them. In short, he has many of the charming qualities of the man over
thirty-five and the widower. That is the man who is girl-trained. But
Heaven help the man who is girl-spoiled.
Far be it from me to say that the untrained man under thirty-five, at his
worst, is of no use in this world. He is excellent for a two-step. I have
used a number of them very successfully in this way. But I know the
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