For it was all in my writing. I handed him the paper, or, if you will,

the snare, and I watched him while he read as follows:

"He who is to win my heart, my dear, must be harsh and unbending with

men, but gentle with women. His eagle eye must have power to quell

with a single glance the least approach to ridicule. He will have a

pitying smile for those who would jeer at sacred things, above all, at

that poetry of the heart, without which life would be but a dreary

commonplace.

I have the greatest scorn for those who would rob us of

the living fountain of religious beliefs, so rich in solace. His

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faith, therefore, should have the simplicity of a child, though united

to the firm conviction of an intelligent man, who has examined the

foundations of his creed. His fresh and original way of looking at

things must be entirely free from affectation or desire to show off.

His words will be few and fit, and his mind so richly stored, that he

cannot possibly become a bore to himself any more than to others.

"All his thoughts must have a high and chivalrous character, without

alloy of self-seeking; while his actions should be marked by a total

absence of interested or sordid motives. Any weak points he may have

will arise from the very elevation of his views above those of the

common herd, for in every respect I would have him superior to his

age. Ever mindful of the delicate attentions due to the weak, he will

be gentle to all women, but not prone lightly to fall in love with

any; for love will seem to him too serious to turn into a game.

"Thus it might happen that he would spend his life in ignorance of

true love, while all the time possessing those qualities most fitted

to inspire it. But if ever he find the ideal woman who has haunted his

waking dreams, if he meet with a nature capable of understanding his

own, one who could fill his soul and pour sunlight over his life,

could shine as a star through the mists of this chill and gloomy

world, lend fresh charm to existence, and draw music from the hitherto

silent chords of his being--needless to say, he would recognize and

welcome his good fortune. "And she, too, would be happy.

Never, by word or look, would he wound

the tender heart which abandoned itself to him, with the blind trust

of a child reposing in its mother's arms. For were the vision

shattered, it would be the wreck of her inner life. To the mighty

waters of love she would confide her all!




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