CHAPTER 4.
OBSERVATIONS ON
THE STATE OF DEGRADATION TO WHICH WOMAN IS REDUCED BY VARIOUS CAUSES.
That woman is naturally weak, or degraded by a concurrence of circumstances
is, I think, clear. But this position I
shall simply contrast with a conclusion, which I have frequently heard fall
from sensible men in favour of an aristocracy: that the mass of mankind cannot be any thing,
or the obsequious slaves, who patiently allow themselves to be penned up, would
feel their own consequence, and spurn their chains. Men, they further observe, submit every where
to oppression, when they have only to lift up their heads to throw off the
yoke; yet, instead of asserting their birthright, they quietly lick the dust,
and say, let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die. Women, I argue from analogy, are degraded by
the same propensity to enjoy the present moment; and, at last, despise the freedom
which they have not sufficient virtue to struggle to attain. But I must be more explicit.
With respect to the culture of the heart, it is unanimously allowed that
sex is out of the question; but the line of subordination in the mental powers
is never to be passed over. Only
"absolute in loveliness," the portion of rationality granted to woman
is, indeed, very scanty; for, denying her genius and judgment, it is scarcely
possible to divine what remains to characterize intellect.
The stamina of immortality, if I may be allowed the phrase, is the perfectibility
of human reason; for, was man created perfect, or did a flood of knowledge
break in upon him, when he arrived at maturity, that precluded error, I should
doubt whether his existence would be continued after the dissolution of the
body. But in the present state of things, every difficulty in morals, that escapes
from human discussion, and equally baffles the investigation of profound
thinking, and the lightning glance of genius, is an argument on which I build
my belief of the immortality of the soul.
Reason is, consequentially, the simple power of improvement; or, more
properly speaking, of discerning truth.
Every individual is in this respect a world in itself. More or less may
be conspicuous in one being than other; but the nature of reason must be the
same in all, if it be an emanation of divinity, the tie that connects the
creature with the Creator; for, can that soul be stamped with the heavenly
image, that is not perfected by the exercise of its own reason? Yet outwardly ornamented with elaborate care,
and so adorned to delight man, "that with honour
he may love," (Vide Milton) the soul of woman is not allowed to have this
distinction, and man, ever placed between her and reason, she is always
represented as only created to see through a gross medium, and to take things
on trust. But, dismissing these fanciful
theories, and considering woman as a whole, let it be what it will, instead of
a part of man, the inquiry is, whether she has reason or not. If she has, which, for a moment, I will take
for granted, she was not created merely to be the solace of man, and the sexual
should not destroy the human character.
Into this error men have, probably, been led by viewing education in a
false light; not considering it as the first step to form a being advancing
gradually toward perfection; (This word is not strictly just, but I cannot find
a better.) but only as a preparation for life.
On this sensual error, for I must call it so, has the false system of
female manners been reared, which robs the whole sex of its dignity, and
classes the brown and fair with the smiling flowers that only adorn the
land. This has ever been the language of
men, and the fear of departing from a supposed sexual character, has made even
women of superior sense adopt the same sentiments. Thus understanding, strictly speaking, has
been denied to woman; and instinct, sublimated into wit and cunning, for the
purposes of life, has been substituted in its stead.
The power of generalizing ideas, of drawing comprehensive conclusions from
individual observations, is the only acquirement for an immortal being, that really deserves the name of knowledge. Merely to
observe, without endeavouring to account for any
thing, may, (in a very incomplete manner) serve as the common sense of life;
but where is the store laid up that is to clothe the soul when it leaves the
body?
This power has not only been denied to women; but writers have insisted
that it is inconsistent, with a few exceptions, with their sexual
character. Let men prove this, and I
shall grant that woman only exists for man.
I must, however, previously remark, that the power of generalizing
ideas, to any great extent, is not very common amongst men or women. But this exercise is the true cultivation of
the understanding; and every thing conspires to render the cultivation of the
understanding more difficult in the female than the male world.
I am naturally led by this assertion to the main subject of the present
chapter, and shall now attempt to point out some of the causes that degrade the
sex, and prevent women from generalizing their observations.
I shall not go back to the remote annals of antiquity to trace the history
of woman; it is sufficient to allow, that she has always been either a slave or
a despot, and to remark, that each of these situations equally retards the
progress of reason. The grand source of
female folly and vice has ever appeared to me to arise from narrowness of mind;
and the very constitution of civil governments has put almost insuperable
obstacles in the way to prevent the cultivation of the female
understanding: yet virtue can be built
on no other foundation! The same
obstacles are thrown in the way of the rich, and the same consequences ensue.
Necessity has been proverbially termed the mother of invention; the aphorism
may be extended to virtue. It is an
acquirement, and an acquirement to which pleasure must be sacrificed, and who sacrifices
pleasure when it is within the grasp, whose mind has not been opened and
strengthened by adversity, or the pursuit of knowledge goaded on by
necessity? Happy is it when people have
the cares of life to struggle with; for these struggles prevent their becoming
a prey to enervating vices, merely from idleness! But, if from their birth men and women are
placed in a torrid zone, with the meridian sun of pleasure darting directly
upon them, how can they sufficiently brace their minds to discharge the duties
of life, or even to relish the affections that carry them out of themselves?
Pleasure is the business of a woman's life, according to the present
modification of society, and while it continues to be so, little can be
expected from such weak beings.
Inheriting, in a lineal descent from the first fair defect in nature,
the sovereignty of beauty, they have, to maintain their power, resigned their
natural rights, which the exercise of reason, might have procured them, and
chosen rather to be short-lived queens than labour to
attain the sober pleasures that arise from equality. Exalted by their
inferiority (this sounds like a contradiction) they constantly demand homage as
women, though experience should teach them that the men
who pride themselves upon paying this arbitrary insolent respect to the sex,
with the most scrupulous exactness, are most inclined to tyrannize over, and
despise the very weakness they cherish.
Often do they repeat Mr. Hume's sentiments; when comparing the French
and Athenian character, he alludes to women.
"But what is more singular in this whimsical nation, say I to the
Athenians, is, that a frolic of yours during the Saturnalia, when the slaves
are served by their masters, is seriously continued by them through the whole
year, and through the whole course of their lives; accompanied too with some circumstances,
which still further augment the absurdity and ridicule. Your sport only elevates for a few days,
those whom fortune has thrown down, and whom she too, in sport, may really elevate
forever above you. But this nation
gravely exalts those, whom nature has subjected to them, and whose inferiority
and infirmities are absolutely incurable.
The women, though without virtue, are their masters and
sovereigns."
Ah! why do women, I write with affectionate
solicitude, condescend to receive a degree of attention and respect from
strangers, different from that reciprocation of civility which the dictates of humanity,
and the politeness of civilization authorise between
man and man? And why do they not
discover, when "in the noon of beauty's power," that they are treated
like queens only to be deluded by hollow respect, till they are led to resign,
or not assume, their natural prerogatives?
Confined then in cages, like the feathered race, they have nothing to do
but to plume themselves, and stalk with mock-majesty from perch to perch. It is true, they are provided with food and
raiment, for which they neither toil nor spin; but health, liberty, and virtue
are given in exchange. But, where,
amongst mankind has been found sufficient strength of mind to enable a being to
resign these adventitious prerogatives; one who rising with the calm dignity of
reason above opinion, dared to be proud of the privileges inherent in man? And it
is vain to expect it whilst hereditary power chokes the affections, and nips
reason in the bud.
The passions of men have thus placed women on thrones; and, till mankind
become more reasonable, it is to be feared that women will avail themselves of
the power which they attain with the least exertion, and which is the most
indisputable. They will smile, yes, they will smile, though told that--
"In beauty's empire is no mean,
And woman either slave or queen,
Is quickly scorn'd when not ador'd."
But the adoration comes first, and the scorn is not anticipated.
Lewis the XIVth, in particular, spread factitious
manners, and caught in a specious way, the whole nation in his toils; for establishing
an artful chain of despotism, he made it the interest of the people at large,
individually to respect his station, and support his power. And women, whom he flattered by a puerile attention
to the whole sex, obtained in his reign that prince-like distinction so fatal
to reason and virtue.
A king is always a king, and a woman always a woman: (And a wit, always a
wit, might be added; for the vain fooleries of wits and beauties to obtain
attention, and make conquests, are much upon a par.) his authority and
her sex, ever stand between them and rational converse. With a lover, I grant she should be so, and
her sensibility will naturally lead her to endeavour
to excite emotion, not to gratify her vanity but her heart. This I do not allow to be coquetry, it is the
artless impulse of nature, I only exclaim against the sexual desire of
conquest, when the heart is out of the question.
This desire is not confined to women; "I have endeavoured,"
says Lord Chesterfield, "to gain the hearts of twenty women, whose persons
I would not have given a fig for."
The libertine who in a gust of passion, takes advantage of unsuspecting
tenderness, is a saint when compared with this cold-hearted rascal; for I like
to use significant words. Yet only
taught to please, women are always on the watch to please, and with true heroic
ardour endeavour to gain
hearts merely to resign, or spurn them, when the victory is decided, and
conspicuous.
I must descend to the minutiae of the subject.
I lament that women are systematically degraded by receiving the trivial
attentions, which men think it manly to pay to the sex, when, in fact, they are
insultingly supporting their own superiority.
It is not condescension to bow to an inferior. So ludicrous, in fact, do these ceremonies
appear to me, that I scarcely am able to govern my muscles, when I see a man
start with eager, and serious solicitude to lift a handkerchief, or shut a door,
when the LADY could have done it herself, had she only moved a pace or two.
A wild wish has just flown from my heart to my head, and I will not stifle
it though it may excite a horse laugh. I
do earnestly wish to see the distinction of sex confounded in society, unless
where love animates the behaviour. For this distinction is, I am firmly persuaded,
the foundation of the weakness of character ascribed to woman; is the cause why
the understanding is neglected, whilst accomplishments are acquired with
sedulous care: and the same cause
accounts for their preferring the graceful before the heroic virtues.
Mankind, including every description, wish to be loved and respected for
SOMETHING; and the common herd will always take the nearest road to the
completion of their wishes. The respect
paid to wealth and beauty is the most certain and unequivocal; and of course,
will always attract the vulgar eye of common minds. Abilities and virtues are
absolutely necessary to raise men from the middle rank of life into notice; and
the natural consequence is notorious, the middle rank contains most virtue and
abilities. Men have thus, in one
station, at least, an opportunity of exerting themselves with dignity, and of
rising by the exertions which really improve a rational creature; but the whole
female sex are, till their character is formed, in the same condition as the
rich: for they are born, I now speak of a state of civilization, with certain
sexual privileges, and whilst they are gratuitously granted them, few will ever
think of works of supererogation, to obtain the esteem of a small number of
superior people.
When do we hear of women, who starting out of obscurity, boldly claim
respect on account of their great abilities or daring virtues? Where are they to be found? "To be observed, to be attended to, to
be taken notice of with sympathy, complacency, and approbation, are all the advantages which they seek." True! My male readers will probably exclaim;
but let them, before they draw any conclusion, recollect, that this was not
written originally as descriptive of women, but of the rich. In Dr. Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments, I
have found a general character of people of rank and fortune,
that in my opinion, might with the greatest propriety be applied to the
female sex. I refer the sagacious reader
to the whole comparison; but must be allowed to quote a passage to enforce an
argument that I mean to insist on, as the one most conclusive against a sexual
character. For if, excepting warriors,
no great men of any denomination, have ever appeared amongst the nobility, may
it not be fairly inferred, that their local situation swallowed up the man, and
produced a character similar to that of women, who are LOCALIZED, if I may be
allowed the word, by the rank they are placed in, by COURTESY? Women, commonly called Ladies, are not to be
contradicted in company, are not allowed to exert any manual strength; and from
them the negative virtues only are expected, when any virtues are expected, patience,
docility, good-humour, and flexibility; virtues incompatible
with any vigorous exertion of intellect.
Besides by living more with each other, and to being seldom absolutely
alone, they are more under the influence of sentiments than passions. Solitude
and reflection are necessary to give to wishes the force of passions, and
enable the imagination to enlarge the object and make it the most
desirable. The same may be said of the
rich; they do not sufficiently deal in general ideas, collected by impassionate
thinking, or calm investigation, to acquire that strength of character, on
which great resolves are built. But hear
what an acute observer says of the great.
"Do the great seem insensible of the easy price at which they may acquire
the public admiration? or do they seem to imagine,
that to them, as to other men, it must be the purchase either of sweat or of
blood? By what important accomplishments
is the young nobleman instructed to support the dignity of his rank, and to
render himself worthy of that superiority over his fellow citizens, to which
the virtue of his ancestors had raised them? Is it by knowledge, by industry,
by patience, by self-denial, or by virtue of any kind? As all his words, as all his motions are
attended to, he learns an habitual regard for every
circumstance of ordinary behaviour, and studies to
perform all those small duties with the most exact propriety. As he is conscious how much he is observed, and
how much mankind are disposed to favour all his
inclinations, he acts, upon the most indifferent occasions, with that freedom
and elevation which the thought of this naturally inspires. His air, his manner, his deportment all mark
that elegant and graceful sense of his own superiority, which those who are
born to an inferior station can hardly ever arrive at. These are the arts by which he proposes to
make mankind more easily submit to his authority, and to govern their
inclinations according to his own pleasure:
and in this he is seldom disappointed.
These arts, supported by rank and pre-eminence, are, upon ordinary
occasions, sufficient to govern the world.
Lewis XIV. during the greater part of his
reign, was regarded, not only in France, but over all Europe, as the most perfect
model of a great prince. But what were
the talents and virtues, by which he acquired this great reputation? Was it by
the scrupulous and inflexible justice of all his undertakings, by the immense
dangers and difficulties with which they were attended, or by the unwearied and
unrelenting application with which he pursued them? Was it by his extensive knowledge, by his
exquisite judgment, or by his heroic valour? It was by none of these qualities. But he was, first of all, the most powerful
prince in Europe, and consequently held the highest rank among kings; and then,
says his historian, 'he surpassed all his courtiers in the gracefulness of his
shape, and the majestic beauty of his features. The sound of his voice noble
and affecting, gained those hearts which his presence intimidated. He had a step and a deportment, which could
suit only him and his rank, and which would have been ridiculous in any other
person. The embarrassment which he occasioned
to those who spoke to him, flattered that secret satisfaction with which he felt
his own superiority.' These frivolous accomplishments, supported by his rank,
and, no doubt, too, by a degree of other talents and virtues, which seems, however,
not to have been much above mediocrity, established this prince in the esteem
of his own age, and have drawn even from posterity, a good deal of respect for
his memory. Compared with these, in his own times, and in his own presence, no other virtue, it
seems, appeared to have any merit.
Knowledge, industry, valour, and beneficence,
trembling, were abashed, and lost all dignity before them."
Woman, also, thus "in herself complete," by possessing all these FRIVOLOUS
accomplishments, so changes the nature of things,
--"That what she wills to do or say
Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest,
best;
All higher knowledge in HER PRESENCE falls
Degraded. Wisdom in discourse with her
Loses discountenanc'd, and like folly shows;
Authority and reason on her wait."--
And all this is built on her loveliness!
In the middle rank of life, to continue the comparison, men, in their
youth, are prepared for professions, and marriage is not considered as the
grand feature in their lives; whilst women, on the contrary, have no other
scheme to sharpen their faculties. It is
not business, extensive plans, or any of the excursive flights of ambition,
that engross their attention; no, their thoughts are not employed in rearing
such noble structures. To rise in the world,
and have the liberty of running from pleasure to pleasure, they must marry
advantageously, and to this object their time is sacrificed, and their persons
often legally prostituted. A man, when
he enters any profession, has his eye steadily fixed on some future advantage
(and the mind gains great strength by having all its efforts directed to one
point) and, full of his business, pleasure is considered as mere relaxation;
whilst women seek for pleasure as the main purpose of existence. In fact, from the education which they
receive from society, the love of pleasure may be said to govern them all; but
does this prove that there is a sex in souls?
It would be just as rational to declare, that the courtiers in France,
when a destructive system of despotism had formed their character, were not
men, because liberty, virtue, and humanity, were sacrificed to pleasure and
vanity. Fatal passions, which have ever
domineered over the WHOLE race!
The same love of pleasure, fostered by the whole tendency of their education,
gives a trifling turn to the conduct of women in most circumstances: for instance, they are ever anxious about
secondary things; and on the watch for adventures, instead of being occupied by
duties.
A man, when he undertakes a journey, has, in general the end in view; a
woman thinks more of the incidental occurrences, the strange things that may
possibly occur on the road; the impression that she may make on her fellow travellers; and, above all, she is anxiously intent on the
care of the finery that she carries with her, which is more than ever a part of
herself, when going to figure on a new scene; when, to use an apt French turn
of expression, she is going to produce a sensation. Can dignity of mind exist with such trivial
cares?
In short, women, in general, as well as the rich of both sexes, have
acquired all the follies and vices of civilization, and missed the useful
fruit. It is not necessary for me always
to premise, that I speak of the condition of the whole sex, leaving exceptions out
of the question. Their senses are
inflamed, and their understandings neglected; consequently they become the prey
of their senses, delicately termed sensibility, and are blown about by every
momentary gust of feeling. They are,
therefore, in a much worse condition than they would be in, were they in a
state nearer to nature. Ever restless and anxious, their over exercised sensibility not
only renders them uncomfortable themselves, but troublesome, to use a soft
phrase, to others. All their
thoughts turn on things calculated to excite emotion; and, feeling, when they
should reason, their conduct is unstable, and their opinions are wavering, not
the wavering produced by deliberation or progressive views, but by
contradictory emotions. By fits and starts
they are warm in many pursuits; yet this warmth, never concentrated into
perseverance, soon exhausts itself; exhaled by its own heat, or meeting with
some other fleeting passion, to which reason has never given any specific
gravity, neutrality ensues. Miserable, indeed, must be that being whose
cultivation of mind has only tended to inflame its passions! A distinction should be made between
inflaming and strengthening them. The
passions thus pampered, whilst the judgment is left unformed, what can be expected
to ensue? Undoubtedly, a mixture of
madness and folly!
This observation should not be confined to the FAIR sex; however, at
present, I only mean to apply it to them.
Novels, music, poetry and gallantry, all tend to make women the creatures
of sensation, and their character is thus formed during the time they are
acquiring accomplishments, the only improvement they are excited, by their
station in society, to acquire. This overstretched
sensibility naturally relaxes the other powers of the mind, and prevents
intellect from attaining that sovereignty which it ought to attain, to render a
rational creature useful to others, and content with its own station; for the
exercise of the understanding, as life advances, is the only method pointed out
by nature to calm the passions.
Satiety has a very different effect, and I have often been forcibly struck
by an emphatical description of damnation, when the
spirit is represented as continually hovering with abortive eagerness round the
defiled body, unable to enjoy any thing without the organs of sense. Yet, to their senses, are women made slaves, because
it is by their sensibility that they obtain present power.
And will moralists pretend to assert, that this is the condition in which
one half of the human race should be encouraged to remain with listless
inactivity and stupid acquiescence? Kind
instructors! what were we created for? To remain, it may be said, innocent; they
mean in a state of childhood. We might
as well never have been born, unless it were necessary that we should be created
to enable man to acquire the noble privilege of reason, the power of discerning
good from evil, whilst we lie down in the dust from whence we were taken, never
to rise again.
It would be an endless task to trace the variety of meannesses,
cares, and sorrows, into which women are plunged by the prevailing opinion,
that they were created rather to feel than reason, and that all the power they
obtain, must be obtained by their charms and weakness;
"Fine by defect, and amiably weak!"
And, made by this amiable weakness entirely dependent, excepting what they
gain by illicit sway, on man, not only for protection, but advice, is it
surprising that, neglecting the duties that reason alone points out, and shrinking
from trials calculated to strengthen their minds, they only exert themselves to
give their defects a graceful covering, which may serve to heighten their charms
in the eye of the voluptuary, though it sink them below the scale of moral
excellence?
Fragile in every sense of the word, they are obliged to look up to man for
every comfort. In the most trifling
dangers they cling to their support, with parasitical tenacity, piteously
demanding succour; and their NATURAL protector
extends his arm, or lifts up his voice, to guard the lovely trembler--from
what? Perhaps the frown of an old cow,
or the jump of a mouse; a rat, would be a serious danger. In the name of reason, and even common sense,
what can save such beings from contempt; even though they be
soft and fair?
These fears, when not affected, may be very pretty; but they shew a degree of imbecility, that degrades a rational
creature in a way women are not aware of--for love and esteem are very distinct
things.
I am fully persuaded, that we should hear of none
of these infantine airs, if girls were allowed to take sufficient exercise and
not confined in close rooms till their muscles are relaxed and their powers of
digestion destroyed. To carry the remark
still further, if fear in girls, instead of being cherished, perhaps, created,
were treated in the same manner as cowardice in boys, we should quickly see
women with more dignified aspects. It is
true, they could not then with equal propriety be termed the sweet flowers that
smile in the walk of man; but they would be more respectable members of
society, and discharge the important duties of life by the light of their own
reason. "Educate women like men,"
says Rousseau, "and the more they resemble our sex the less power will they
have over us." This is the very
point I aim at. I do not wish them to
have power over men; but over themselves.
In the same strain have I heard men argue against instructing the poor; for
many are the forms that aristocracy assumes. "Teach them to read and write," say
they, "and you take them out of the station assigned them by
nature." An eloquent Frenchman, has answered them; I will borrow his
sentiments. But they know not, when they
make man a brute, that they may expect every instant to see him transformed
into a ferocious beast. Without
knowledge there can be no morality!
Ignorance is a frail base for virtue!
Yet, that it is the condition for which woman was organized, has been
insisted upon by the writers who have most vehemently argued in favour of the superiority of man; a superiority not in
degree, but essence; though, to soften the argument, they have laboured to prove, with chivalrous generosity, that the
sexes ought not to be compared; man was made to reason, woman to feel: and that together, flesh and spirit, they
make the most perfect whole, by blending happily reason and sensibility into
one character.
And what is sensibility? "Quickness of sensation; quickness of perception;
delicacy." Thus is it
defined by Dr. Johnson; and the definition gives me no other idea than of the
most exquisitely polished instinct. I
discern not a trace of the image of God in either sensation or matter. Refined seventy times seven, they are still
material; intellect dwells not there; nor will fire ever make lead gold!
I come round to my old argument; if woman be allowed to have an immortal
soul, she must have as the employment of life, an understanding to
improve. And when, to render the present
state more complete, though every thing proves it to be but a fraction of a
mighty sum, she is incited by present gratification to forget her grand
destination. Nature is counteracted, or
she was born only to procreate and rot.
Or, granting brutes, of every description, a soul, though not a
reasonable one, the exercise of instinct and sensibility may be the step, which
they are to take, in this life, towards the attainment of reason in the next;
so that through all eternity they will lag behind man, who, why we cannot tell,
had the power given him of attaining reason in his first mode of existence.
When I treat of the peculiar duties of women, as I should treat of the
peculiar duties of a citizen or father, it will be found that I do not mean to
insinuate, that they should be taken out of their families, speaking of the
majority. "He that hath wife and children,"
says Lord Bacon, "hath given hostages to fortune; for they are impediments
to great enterprises, either of virtue or mischief. Certainly the best works, and of greatest
merit for the public, have proceeded from the unmarried or childless men."
I say the same of women. But, the
welfare of society is not built on extraordinary exertions; and were it more
reasonably organized, there would be still less need of great abilities, or
heroic virtues. In the regulation of a
family, in the education of children, understanding, in an unsophisticated
sense, is particularly required:
strength both of body and mind; yet the men who, by their writings, have
most earnestly laboured to domesticate women, have endeavoured by arguments dictated by a gross appetite, that
satiety had rendered fastidious, to weaken their bodies and cramp their
minds. But, if even by these sinister
methods they really PERSUADED women, by working on their feelings, to stay at home,
and fulfil the duties of a mother and mistress of a
family, I should cautiously oppose opinions that led women to right conduct, by
prevailing on them to make the discharge of a duty the business of life, though
reason were insulted. Yet, and I appeal
to experience, if by neglecting the understanding they are as much, nay, more
attached from these domestic duties, than they could be by the most serious
intellectual pursuit, though it may be observed, that the mass of mankind will
never vigorously pursue an intellectual object, I may be allowed to infer, that
reason is absolutely necessary to enable a woman to perform any duty properly,
and I must again repeat, that sensibility is not reason.
The comparison with the rich still occurs to me; for, when men neglect the
duties of humanity, women will do the same; a common stream hurries them both
along with thoughtless celerity. Riches and
honours prevent a man from enlarging his
understanding, and enervate all his powers, by reversing the order of nature,
which has ever made true pleasure the reward of labour.
Pleasure--enervating pleasure is, likewise, within woman's reach without
earning it. But, till hereditary
possessions are spread abroad, how can we expect men to be proud of
virtue? And, till they are, women will
govern them by the most direct means, neglecting their dull domestic duties, to
catch the pleasure that is on the wing of time.
"The power of women," says some author, "is her sensibility;"
and men not aware of the consequence, do all they can to make this power
swallow up every other. Those who
constantly employ their sensibility will have most: for example; poets,
painters, and composers. Yet, when the
sensibility is thus increased at the expense of reason, and even the
imagination, why do philosophical men complain of their fickleness? The sexual attention of man particularly acts
on female sensibility, and this sympathy has been exercised from their youth
up. A husband cannot long pay those attentions
with the passion necessary to excite lively emotions, and the heart, accustomed
to lively emotions, turns to a new lover, or pines in secret, the prey of
virtue or prudence. I mean when the
heart has really been rendered susceptible, and the taste formed; for I am apt
to conclude, from what I have seen in fashionable life, that vanity is oftener
fostered than sensibility by the mode of education, and the intercourse between
the sexes, which I have reprobated; and that coquetry more frequently proceeds from
vanity than from that inconstancy, which overstrained sensibility naturally
produces.
Another argument that has had a great weight with me, must, I think, have
some force with every considerate benevolent heart. Girls, who have been thus
weakly educated, are often cruelly left by their parents without any provision;
and, of course, are dependent on, not only the reason, but the bounty of their brothers. These brothers are, to view the fairest side
of the question, good sort of men, and give as a favour,
what children of the same parents had an equal right to. In this equivocal humiliating situation, a
docile female may remain some time, with a tolerable degree of comfort. But, when the brother marries, a probable
circumstance, from being considered as the mistress of the family, she is
viewed with averted looks as an intruder, an unnecessary burden on the
benevolence of the master of the house, and his new partner.
Who can recount the misery, which many unfortunate beings, whose minds and
bodies are equally weak, suffer in such situations--unable to work and ashamed
to beg? The wife, a cold-hearted,
narrow-minded woman, and this is not an unfair supposition; for the present
mode of education does not tend to enlarge the heart any more than the
understanding, is jealous of the little kindness which her husband shows to his
relations; and her sensibility not rising to humanity, she is displeased at
seeing the property of HER children lavished on an helpless sister.
These are matters of fact, which have come under my eye again and again. The consequence is obvious, the wife has
recourse to cunning to undermine the habitual affection, which she is afraid openly
to oppose; and neither tears nor caresses are spared till the spy is worked out
of her home, and thrown on the world, unprepared for its difficulties; or sent,
as a great effort of generosity, or from some regard to propriety, with a small
stipend, and an uncultivated mind into joyless solitude.
These two women may be much upon a par, with respect to reason and humanity;
and changing situations, might have acted just the same selfish part; but had
they been differently educated, the case would also have been very
different. The wife would not have had that
sensibility, of which self is the centre, and reason might have taught her not
to expect, and not even to be flattered by the affection of her husband, if it
led him to violate prior duties. She would wish not to love him, merely because
he loved her, but on account of his virtues; and the sister might have been
able to struggle for herself, instead of eating the bitter bread of dependence.
I am, indeed, persuaded that the heart, as well as the understanding, is
opened by cultivation; and by, which may not appear so clear, strengthening the
organs; I am not now talking of momentary flashes of sensibility, but of
affections. And, perhaps, in the
education of both sexes, the most difficult task is so to adjust instruction as
not to narrow the understanding, whilst the heart is warmed by the generous
juices of spring, just raised by the electric fermentation of the season; nor
to dry up the feelings by employing the mind in investigations remote from life.
With respect to women, when they receive a careful education, they are
either made fine ladies, brimful of sensibility, and teeming with capricious
fancies; or mere notable women. The
latter are often friendly, honest creatures, and have a shrewd kind of good sense
joined with worldly prudence, that often render them more useful members of
society than the fine sentimental lady, though they possess neither greatness
of mind nor taste. The intellectual world
is shut against them; take them out of their family or neighbourhood,
and they stand still; the mind finding no employment, for literature affords a
fund of amusement, which they have never sought to relish, but frequently to
despise. The sentiments and taste of
more cultivated minds appear ridiculous, even in those whom chance and family connexions have led them to love; but in mere acquaintance
they think it all affectation.
A man of sense can only love such a woman on account of her sex, and
respect her, because she is a trusty servant.
He lets her, to preserve his own peace, scold the servants, and go to
church in clothes made of the very best materials. A man of her own size of understanding would,
probably, not agree so well with her; for he might wish to encroach on her
prerogative, and manage some domestic concerns himself. Yet women, whose minds are not enlarged by cultivation,
or the natural selfishness of sensibility expanded by reflection, are very
unfit to manage a family; for by an undue stretch of power, they are always
tyrannizing to support a superiority that only rests on the arbitrary
distinction of fortune. The evil is
sometimes more serious, and domestics are deprived of innocent indulgences, and
made to work beyond their strength, in order to enable the notable woman to
keep a better table, and outshine her neighbours in
finery and parade. If she attend to her children, it is, in general, to dress them in
a costly manner--and, whether, this attention arises from vanity or fondness,
it is equally pernicious.
Besides, how many women of this description pass their days, or, at least
their evenings, discontentedly. Their husbands acknowledge that they are good
managers, and chaste wives; but leave home to seek for more agreeable, may I be
allowed to use a significant French word, piquant society; and the patient
drudge, who fulfils her task, like a blind horse in a mill, is defrauded of her
just reward; for the wages due to her are the caresses of her husband; and
women who have so few resources in themselves, do not very patiently bear this
privation of a natural right.
A fine lady, on the contrary, has been taught to look down with contempt on
the vulgar employments of life; though she has only been incited to acquire
accomplishments that rise a degree above sense; for even corporeal
accomplishments cannot be acquired with any degree of precision, unless the
understanding has been strengthened by exercise. Without a foundation of principles taste is
superficial; and grace must arise from something deeper than imitation. The imagination, however, is heated, and the
feelings rendered fastidious, if not sophisticated; or, a counterpoise of judgment
is not acquired, when the heart still remains artless, though it becomes too
tender.
These women are often amiable; and their hearts are really more sensible to
general benevolence, more alive to the sentiments that civilize life, than the
square elbowed family drudge; but, wanting a due proportion of reflection and
self-government, they only inspire love; and are the mistresses of their
husbands, whilst they have any hold on their affections; and the platonic
friends of his male acquaintance. These
are the fair defects in nature; the women who appear to be created not to enjoy
the fellowship of man, but to save him from sinking into absolute brutality, by
rubbing off the rough angles of his character; and by playful dalliance to give
some dignity to the appetite that draws him to them. Gracious Creator of the whole human race! hast thou created such a being as woman, who can trace thy
wisdom in thy works, and feel that thou alone art by thy nature, exalted above
her--for no better purpose? Can she believe that she was only made to submit to
man her equal; a being, who, like her, was sent into the world to acquire
virtue? Can she consent to be occupied merely to please him; merely to adorn
the earth, when her soul is capable of rising to thee? And can she rest supinely dependent on man
for reason, when she ought to mount with him the arduous steeps of knowledge?
Yet, if love be the supreme good, let women be only educated to inspire it,
and let every charm be polished to intoxicate the senses; but, if they are
moral beings, let them have a chance to become intelligent; and let love to man
be only a part of that glowing flame of universal love, which, after encircling
humanity, mounts in grateful incense to God.
To fulfil domestic duties much resolution is
necessary, and a serious kind of perseverance that requires a more firm support
than emotions, however lively and true to nature. To give an example of order, the soul of
virtue, some austerity of behaviour must be adopted,
scarcely to be expected from a being who, from its infancy,
has been made the weathercock of its own sensations. Whoever rationally means
to be useful, must have a plan of conduct; and, in the discharge of the
simplest duty, we are often obliged to act contrary to the present impulse of
tenderness or compassion. Severity is frequently the most certain, as well as
the most sublime proof of affection; and the want of this power over the feelings,
and of that lofty, dignified affection, which makes a person prefer the future
good of the beloved object to a present gratification, is the reason why so
many fond mothers spoil their children, and has made it questionable, whether
negligence or indulgence is most hurtful:
but I am inclined to think, that the latter has done most harm.
Mankind seem to agree, that
children should be left under the management of women during their
childhood. Now, from all the observation
that I have been able to make, women of sensibility are the most unfit for this
task, because they will infallibly, carried away by their feelings, spoil a
child's temper. The management of the
temper, the first and most important branch of education, requires the sober
steady eye of reason; a plan of conduct equally distant from tyranny and
indulgence; yet these are the extremes that people of sensibility alternately
fall into; always shooting beyond the mark.
I have followed this train of reasoning much further, till I have concluded, that a person of genius is the most improper
person to be employed in education, public or private. Minds of this rare
species see things too much in masses, and seldom, if ever, have a good
temper. That habitual cheerfulness, termed
good humour, is, perhaps, as seldom united with great
mental powers, as with strong feelings.
And those people who follow, with interest and admiration, the flights
of genius; or, with cooler approbation suck in the instruction, which has been
elaborately prepared for them by the profound thinker, ought not to be disgusted,
if they find the former choleric, and the latter morose; because liveliness of
fancy, and a tenacious comprehension of mind, are scarcely compatible with that
pliant urbanity which leads a man, at least to bend to the opinions and
prejudices of others, instead of roughly confronting them.
But, treating of education or manners, minds of a superior class are not to
be considered, they may be left to chance; it is the multitude, with moderate
abilities, who call for instruction, and catch the colour
of the atmosphere they breathe. This
respectable concourse, I contend, men and women, should not have their sensations
heightened in the hot-bed of luxurious indolence, at the expence
of their understanding; for, unless there be a ballast of understanding, they
will never become either virtuous or free:
an aristocracy, founded on property, or sterling talents, will ever sweep
before it, the alternately timid and ferocious slaves of feeling.
Numberless are the arguments, to take another view of the subject, brought
forward with a show of reason; because supposed to be deduced from nature, that
men have used morally and physically to degrade the sex. I must notice a few.
The female understanding has often been spoken of with contempt, as arriving
sooner at maturity than the male. I
shall not answer this argument by alluding to the early proofs of reason, as
well as genius, in Cowley, Milton, and Pope, (Many other names might be added.)
but only appeal to experience to decide whether young men, who are early
introduced into company (and examples now abound) do not acquire the same
precocity. So notorious is this fact,
that the bare mentioning of it must bring before people, who at all mix in the
world, the idea of a number of swaggering apes of men whose understandings are
narrowed by being brought into the society of men when they ought to have been
spinning a top or twirling a hoop.
It has also been asserted, by some naturalists, that men do not attain
their full growth and strength till thirty; but that women arrive at maturity
by twenty. I apprehend that they reason
on false ground, led astray by the male prejudice, which deems beauty the
perfection of woman--mere beauty of features and complexion, the vulgar
acceptation of the world, whilst male beauty is allowed to have some connexion with the mind.
Strength of body, and that character of
countenance, which the French term a physionomie, women
do not acquire before thirty, any more than men. The little artless tricks of children, it is
true, are particularly pleasing and attractive; yet, when the pretty freshness
of youth is worn off, these artless graces become studied airs, and disgust
every person of taste. In the
countenance of girls we only look for vivacity and bashful modesty; but, the
springtide of life over, we look for soberer sense in the face, and for traces
of passion, instead of the dimples of animal spirits; expecting to see individuality
of character, the only fastener of the affections. We then wish to converse,
not to fondle; to give scope to our imaginations, as well as to the sensations
of our hearts.
At twenty the beauty of both sexes is equal; but the libertinism of man
leads him to make the distinction, and superannuated coquette are commonly of
the same opinion; for when they can no longer inspire love, they pay for the vigour and vivacity of youth. The French who admit
more of mind into their notions of beauty, give the preference to women of
thirty. I mean to say, that they allow women
to be in their most perfect state, when vivacity gives place to reason, and to
that majestic seriousness of character, which marks maturity; or, the resting
point. In youth, till twenty the body
shoots out; till thirty the solids are attaining a degree of density; and the
flexible muscles, growing daily more rigid, give character to the countenance;
that is, they trace the operations of the mind with the iron pen of fate, and
tell us not only what powers are within, but how they have been employed.
It is proper to observe, that animals who arrive slowly at maturity, are
the longest lived, and of the noblest species.
Men cannot, however, claim any natural superiority from the grandeur of longevity;
for in this respect nature has not distinguished the male.
Polygamy is another physical degradation; and a plausible argument for a
custom, that blasts every domestic virtue, is drawn from the well-attested
fact, that in the countries where it is established, more females are born than
males. This appears to be an indication of
nature, and to nature apparently reasonable speculations must yield. A further conclusion obviously presents
itself; if polygamy be necessary, woman must be inferior to man, and made for
him.
With respect to the formation of the foetus in
the womb, we are very ignorant; but it appears to me probable, that an
accidental physical cause may account for this phenomenon, and prove it not to be
a law of nature. I have met with some
pertinent observations on the subject in Forster's Account of the Isles of the
South Sea, that will explain my meaning. After observing that of the two sexes amongst
animals, the most vigorous and hottest constitution always prevails, and
produces its kind; he adds,--"If this be applied to the inhabitants of
Africa, it is evident that the men there, accustomed to polygamy, are enervated
by the use of so many women, and therefore less vigorous; the women on the
contrary, are of a hotter constitution, not only on account of their more irritable
nerves, more sensitive organization, and more lively fancy; but likewise
because they are deprived in their matrimony of that share of physical love
which in a monogamous condition, would all be theirs; and thus for the above
reasons, the generality of children are born females."
"In the greater part of Europe it has been proved by the most accurate
lists of mortality, that the proportion of men to
women is nearly equal, or, if any difference takes place, the males born are more
numerous, in the proportion of 105 to 100."
The necessity of polygamy, therefore, does not appear; yet when a man
seduces a woman, it should I think, be termed a LEFT-HANDED marriage, and the
man should be LEGALLY obliged to maintain the woman and her children, unless
adultery, a natural divorcement, abrogated the law. And this law should remain in force as long
as the weakness of women caused the word seduction to be used as an excuse for
their frailty and want of principle; nay, while they depend on man for a subsistence, instead of earning it by the exercise of
their own hands or heads. But these
women should not in the full meaning of the relationship, be termed wives, or
the very purpose of marriage would be subverted, and all those endearing
charities that flow from personal fidelity, and give a sanctity to the tie,
when neither love nor friendship unites the hearts, would melt into
selfishness. The woman who is faithful
to the father of her children demands respect, and should not be treated like a
prostitute; though I readily grant, that if it be necessary for a man and woman
to live together in order to bring up their offspring, nature never intended
that a man should have more than one wife.
Still, highly as I respect marriage, as the foundation of almost every
social virtue, I cannot avoid feeling the most lively compassion
for those unfortunate females who are broken off from society, and by one error
torn from all those affections and relationships that improve the heart and
mind. It does not frequently even
deserve the name of error; for many innocent girls become the dupes of a
sincere affectionate heart, and still more are, as it may emphatically be
termed, RUINED before they know the difference between virtue and vice: and thus prepared by their education for
infamy, they become infamous. Asylums
and Magdalens are not the proper remedies for these
abuses. It is justice, not charity, that is wanting in the world!
A woman who has lost her honour,
imagines that she cannot fall lower, and as for recovering her former station,
it is impossible; no exertion can wash this stain away. Losing thus every spur, and having no other
means of support, prostitution becomes her only refuge, and the character is
quickly depraved by circumstances over which the poor wretch has little power,
unless she possesses an uncommon portion of sense and loftiness of spirit. Necessity never makes prostitution the
business of men's lives; though numberless are the women who are thus rendered
systematically vicious. This, however,
arises, in a great degree, from the state of idleness in which women are
educated, who are always taught to look up to man for a maintenance, and to
consider their persons as the proper return for his exertions to support
them. Meretricious airs, and the whole
science of wantonness, has then a more powerful stimulus than either appetite
or vanity; and this remark gives force to the prevailing opinion, that with
chastity all is lost that is respectable in woman. Her character depends on the observance of one
virtue, though the only passion fostered in her heart--is love. Nay the honour of a woman is not made even to depend on her will.
When Richardson makes Clarissa tell Lovelace that he had robbed her of her honour, he must have had strange notions of honour and virtue. For,
miserable beyond all names of misery is the condition of a being, who could be
degraded without its own consent! This excess
of strictness I have heard vindicated as a salutary error. I shall answer in
the words of Leibnitz--"Errors are often useful; but it is commonly to
remedy other errors."
Most of the evils of life arise from a desire of present enjoyment that
outruns itself. The obedience required
of women in the marriage state, comes under this description; the mind,
naturally weakened by depending on authority, never exerts its own powers, and
the obedient wife is thus rendered a weak indolent mother. Or, supposing that this is not always the
consequence, a future stat of existence is scarcely taken into the reckoning
when only negative virtues are cultivated.
For in treating of morals, particularly when women are alluded to,
writers have too often considered virtue in a very limited sense, and made the
foundation of it SOLELY worldly utility; nay, a still more fragile base has been
given to this stupendous fabric, and the wayward fluctuating feelings of men
have been made the standard of virtue.
Yes, virtue as well as religion, has been subjected to the decisions of
taste.
It would almost provoke a smile of contempt, if the vain absurdities of man
did not strike us on all sides, to observe, how eager men are to degrade the
sex from whom they pretend to receive the chief pleasure of life; and I have
frequently, with full conviction, retorted Pope's sarcasm on them; or, to speak
explicitly, it has appeared to me applicable to the whole human race. A love of pleasure or sway seems to divide
mankind, and the husband who lords it in his little harem, thinks only of his pleasure
or his convenience. To such lengths,
indeed, does an intemperate love of pleasure carry some prudent men, or worn
out libertines, who marry to have a safe companion, that they seduce their own
wives. Hymen banishes modesty, and
chaste love takes its flight.
Love, considered as an animal appetite, cannot long feed on itself without
expiring. And this extinction, in its
own flame, may be termed the violent death of love. But the wife who has
thus been rendered licentious, will probably endeavour
to fill the void left by the loss of her husband's attentions; for she cannot
contentedly become merely an upper servant after having been treated like a goddess. She is still handsome, and, instead of
transferring her fondness to her children, she only dreams of enjoying the
sunshine of life. Besides, there are
many husbands so devoid of sense and parental affection, that during the first
effervescence of voluptuous fondness, they refuse to let their wives suckle
their children. They are only to dress
and live to please them: and love, even
innocent love, soon sinks into lasciviousness when the exercise of a duty is
sacrificed to its indulgence.
Personal attachment is a very happy foundation for friendship; yet, when
even two virtuous young people marry, it would, perhaps, be happy if some
circumstance checked their passion; if the recollection of some prior
attachment, or disappointed affection, made it on one side, at least, rather a
match founded on esteem. In that case they would look beyond the present
moment, and try to render the whole of life respectable, by forming a plan to
regulate a friendship which only death ought to dissolve.
Friendship is a serious affection; the most sublime of all affections,
because it is founded on principle, and cemented by time. The very reverse may be said of love. In a great degree, love and friendship cannot
subsist in the same bosom; even when inspired by different objects they weaken
or destroy each other, and for the same object can only be felt in
succession. The vain fears and fond
jealousies, the winds which fan the flame of love, when judiciously or artfully
tempered, are both incompatible with the tender confidence and sincere respect
of friendship.
Love, such as the glowing pen of genius has traced, exists not on earth, or
only resides in those exalted, fervid imaginations that have sketched such
dangerous pictures. Dangerous, because
they not only afford a plausible excuse to the voluptuary, who disguises sheer
sensuality under a sentimental veil; but as they spread affectation, and take
from the dignity of virtue. Virtue, as
the very word imports, should have an appearance of seriousness, if not austerity;
and to endeavour to trick her out in the garb of pleasure,
because the epithet has been used as another name for beauty, is to exalt her
on a quicksand; a most insidious attempt to hasten her fall by apparent
respect. Virtue,
and pleasure are not, in fact, so nearly allied in this life as some eloquent
writers have laboured to prove. Pleasure prepares the fading wreath, and mixes
the intoxicating cup; but the fruit which virtue gives, is the recompence of toil:
and, gradually seen as it ripens, only affords calm satisfaction; nay,
appearing to be the result of the natural tendency of things, it is scarcely
observed. Bread, the common food of
life, seldom thought of as a blessing, supports the constitution, and preserves
health; still feasts delight the heart of man, though disease and even death
lurk in the cup or dainty that elevates the spirits or tickles the palate. The lively heated imagination in the same
style, draws the picture of love, as it draws every other picture, with those
glowing colours, which the daring hand will steal
from the rainbow that is directed by a mind, condemned, in a world like this,
to prove its noble origin, by panting after unattainable perfection; ever
pursuing what it acknowledges to be a fleeting dream. An imagination of this vigorous cast can give
existence to insubstantial forms, and stability to the shadowy reveries which
the mind naturally falls into when realities are found vapid. It can then depict love with celestial
charms, and dote on the grand ideal object; it can imagine a degree of mutual
affection that shall refine the soul, and not expire when it has served as a
"scale to heavenly;" and, like devotion, make it absorb every meaner
affection and desire. In each other's arms, as in a temple, with its summit
lost in the clouds, the world is to be shut out, and every thought and wish, that
do not nurture pure affection and permanent virtue. Permanent virtue! alas!
Rousseau, respectable visionary! thy paradise would soon
be violated by the entrance of some unexpected guest. Like Milton's, it would only contain angels,
or men sunk below the dignity of rational creatures. Happiness is not material,
it cannot be seen or felt! Yet the eager
pursuit of the good which every one shapes to his own fancy, proclaims man the
lord of this lower world, and to be an intelligential creature, who is not to receive,
but acquire happiness. They, therefore,
who complain of the delusions of passion, do not recollect that they are
exclaiming against a strong proof of the immortality of the soul.
But, leaving superior minds to correct themselves, and pay dearly for their
experience, it is necessary to observe, that it is not against strong,
persevering passions; but romantic, wavering feelings, that
I wish to guard the female heart by exercising the understanding; for these
paradisiacal reveries are oftener the effect of idleness than of a lively
fancy.
Women have seldom sufficient serious employment to silence their feelings;
a round of little cares, or vain pursuits, frittering away all strength of mind
and organs, they become naturally only objects of sense. In short, the whole tenor of female education
(the education of society) tends to render the best disposed, romantic and
inconstant; and the remainder vain and mean.
In the present state of society, this evil can scarcely be remedied, I
am afraid, in the slightest degree; should a more laudable ambition ever gain
ground, they may be brought nearer to nature and reason, and become more
virtuous and useful as they grow more respectable.
But I will venture to assert, that their reason will never acquire Sufficient
strength to enable it to regulate their conduct, whilst the making an
appearance in the world is the first wish of the majority of mankind. To this weak wish the natural affections and the
most useful virtues are sacrificed.
Girls marry merely to BETTER THEMSELVES, to borrow a significant vulgar
phrase, and have such perfect power over their hearts as not to permit themselves to FALL IN LOVE till a man with a superior
fortune offers. On this subject I mean
to enlarge in a future chapter; it is only necessary to drop a hint at present,
because women are so often degraded by suffering the selfish prudence of age to
chill the ardour of youth.
>From the same source flows an opinion that young girls ought to dedicate
great part of their time to needle work; yet, this employment contracts their
faculties more than any other that could have been chosen for them, by
confining their thoughts to their persons.
Men order their clothes to be made, and have done with the subject;
women make their own clothes, necessary or ornamental, and are continually talking
about them; and their thoughts follow their hands. It is not indeed the making of necessaries
that weakens the mind; but the frippery of dress. For when a woman in the lower rank of life
makes her husband's and children's clothes, she does her duty, this is part of
her business; but when women work only to dress better than they could
otherwise afford, it is worse than sheer loss of time. To render the poor virtuous, they must be
employed, and women in the middle rank of life did they not ape the fashions of
the nobility, without catching their ease, might employ them, whilst they
themselves managed their families, instructed their children, and exercised
their own minds. Gardening, experimental philosophy, and literature, would afford
them subjects to think of, and matter for conversation, that in some degree
would exercise their understandings. The
conversation of French women, who are not so rigidly nailed to their chairs, to
twist lappets, and knot ribbands, is frequently superficial;
but, I contend, that it is not half so insipid as that of those English women,
whose time is spent in making caps, bonnets, and the whole mischief of
trimmings, not to mention shopping, bargain-hunting, etc. etc.: and it is the decent, prudent women, who are
most degraded by these practices; for their motive is simply vanity. The
wanton, who exercises her taste to render her person alluring, has something
more in view.
These observations all branch out of a general one, which I have before
made, and which cannot be too often insisted upon, for, speaking of men, women,
or professions, it will be found, that the employment of the thoughts shapes
the character both generally and individually.
The thoughts of women ever hover around their persons,
and is it surprising that their persons are reckoned most valuable? Yet some degree of liberty of mind is
necessary even to form the person; and this may be one reason why some gentle
wives have so few attractions beside that of sex. Add to this, sedentary employments render the
majority of women sickly, and false notions of female
excellence make them proud of this delicacy, though it be another fetter, that
by calling the attention continually to the body, cramps the activity of the
mind.
Women of quality seldom do any of the manual part of their dress, consequently
only their taste is exercised, and they acquire, by thinking less of the
finery, when the business of their toilet is over, that ease, which seldom
appears in the deportment of women, who dress merely for the sake of
dressing. In fact, the observation with
respect to the middle rank, the one in which talents thrive best, extends not
to women; for those of the superior class, by catching, at least a smattering
of literature, and conversing more with men, on general topics, acquire more knowledge
than the women who ape their fashions and faults without sharing their
advantages. With respect to virtue, to
use the word in a comprehensive sense, I have seen most in low life. Many poor women maintain their children by
the sweat of their brow, and keep together families that the vices of the
fathers would have scattered abroad; but gentlewomen are too indolent to be
actively virtuous, and are softened rather than refined by civilization. Indeed
the good sense which I have met with among the poor women who have had few
advantages of education, and yet have acted heroically, strongly confirmed me
in the opinion, that trifling employments have rendered women a trifler. Men, taking her ('I take her body,' says
Ranger.) body, the mind is left to rust; so that while physical love enervates
man, as being his favourite recreation, he will endeavour to enslave woman:
and who can tell how many generations may be necessary to give vigour to the virtue and talents of the freed posterity of
abject slaves? ('Supposing that women
are voluntary slaves--slavery of any kind is unfavourable
to human happiness and improvement.'--'Knox's Essays'.)
In tracing the causes that in my opinion, have
degraded woman, I have confined my observations to such as universally act upon
the morals and manners of the whole sex, and to me it appears clear, that they
all spring from want of understanding.
Whether this arises from a physical or accidental weakness of faculties,
time alone can determine; for I shall not lay any great stress upon the example
of a few women (Sappho, Eloisa, Mrs. Macaulay, the Empress of Russia, Madame d'Eon, etc. These, and many more, may be reckoned exceptions; and, are
not all heroes, as well as heroines, exceptions to general rules? I wish to see women neither heroines nor
brutes; but reasonable creatures.) who, from having
received a masculine education, have acquired courage and resolution; I only contend
that the men who have been placed in similar situations have acquired a similar
character, I speak of bodies of men, and that men of genius and talents have
started out of a class, in which women have never yet been placed.