| | | | | <2. Woman and her Wishes. An Essay. By Thos. WENTWORTH> | | <3. Remarks on the Education of Girls. J. Chapman.> | <4. A Brief Summary of the Laws concerning Women.> | | <5. Bertha and Lily; or, the Parsonage of Beech Glen.> | | | | | | AMONGST the most interested and intelligent of our readers we | confidently reckon many of the class whose social position is to form | the subject of the present article; ~~ Women of mature minds, | cultivated tastes, and high aims, possessed of education, thought, and | refinement, who are habituated to the consideration of great subjects, | and with whom all the leading questions of the day are matters of | interest, and present materials for the exercise of thought and | judgment. Yet we think it probable that to many even of these, alive as | they are to the existence of numerous social evils, it may yet be a | matter of surprise, that their own public position is becoming one of | these great public questions; that their own grievances, their own | disabilities, the oppressions and injustice to which they themselves are | Subject, are collectively, in the judgment of many of their sex, the most | crying evil of the day ~~ the great bar to progress; and that male | politicians, and social regenerators of name and weight in their own | circles, support them in this opinion. | | So little, perhaps, have they entered into this dark view of the | circumstances of their being that a totally contrary, impression may | hitherto have been the habit of their minds. Respected, cherished, | beloved, feeling themselves the centre | | and attraction of home, their affections exercised, their faculties called | out; their time employed in the performance of congenial duties, whose | importance cannot be overstated ~~ the mainstay of husband, children, | dependents; | ~~ the active agents in every more private scheme of kindness or | charity ~~ the organizers and directors of cultivated social intercourse, | cognisant of no restrictions, and feeling no restraints; ~~ we need not | wonder that the yearnings of the aspiring sisterhood have struck no | secret mystic chord of sympathy in them, have communicated no | electric shock to heart or brain. Nor can | anyone call ours a | fancy-picture ~~ it is the English matron's natural position, if her | station in life admit of all these relations. Any less favourable state of | things is an exception to a rule. We describe the matron, because in her | centre all the conditions of womanhood, and her lot is equally, perhaps | more, a matter of complaint with this regenerating school than that of | women with fewer ties; but in her degree, and with the limitations | which altered circumstances imply, every Englishwoman, by her | birthright, shares this condition of honour and usefulness; and | amongst those whom we may hope to include in the number, of our | readers, we do not suppose that any difference of condition will affect | the views they may take on this question. We feel confident, then, that | the majority of our countrywomen, and those best fulfilling the duties | of their several stations, have no sympathy whatever with these | agitators, and are disposed to regard with repugnance the movement | which we have intimated is beginning to stir society. They want no | more liberty than they possess, they assert no "claims;" the rights they | have are enough for them; they find in their present position room for | the free exercise of their highest gifts. This being so, the first | conclusion certainly is to leave things as they are, and to oppose all | change as such: ~~ in fact, to let well alone; and if we reverence and | love female excellence as it shows itself at present, to object to every | suggestion of change. But, on second thoughts, it may be questioned | whether, because good women, those who most realise to us what | women should be, do well, and are well as things now are, the | supposed consequence follows. The best people are independent of | laws ~~ indeed we may question whether people of highest practical | wisdom ever trouble themselves much with anything but to make the | best of existing institutions, which they can always adapt to their | needs. Therefore it is that reforms never originate in the wisest men. It | needs some element of contrariety and perverseness to fall foul of | time-honoured customs or observances of any sort. Erratic genius | stumbles against impediments which sensible men patiently go round, | or unconsciously evade. | | Bearing this in mind, we conclude that though the wisest and best | women are absolutely content with their present position and probably | dread change, as wise people generally do, we need not take for | granted that no improvement is needed. It is not improbable that some | such conclusion may be come to at the end of our investigation, but the | argument does not of itself prove that there should be no investigation | at all. | | When more than sixty years ago Mary Wollstoncraft publislied her | "Vindication of the Rights of Women," it is evident that she neither | expected nor received the sympathy of any class of her countrywomen. | She awoke, as far as we can judge, no echo in any female bosom, but | only the disgust which tone and matter were alike calculated to excite. | Yet that very repulsive work contains some home truths. A gradual | return to common sense (through no instrumentality of hers) has | justified many of her strictures on the prevailing notions of her day on | female education and the legitimate province of women; ~~ their | sphere of thought and action is enlarged.since those narrow-minded | and conventional days; yet women are not less feminine now than then; | they have lost nothing in delicacy or refinement of character, though | mind and body are trained in a stronger mould than was at that | particular time thought fitting for their sex. Therefore, though the | remonstrances and advice which now lie before us come from most | uninviting quarters, we will not allow our prejudices to reject at once | every suggestion; we will listen to the complaints of the "oppressed." | Possibly some unjust limitation and restraint in our social system may | press hard on impulsive winds, and goad them on to these violent and | rebellious measures for their emancipation. | | Though Mary Wollstonecraft is, as we believe, the first promulgator of | these views; yet, as we have said, she has had no disciples amongst her | countrywomen. American ladies are the legitimate heirs to her | arguments, and it is from America that the present movement in our | own country takes its rise. The leading pamphlets at the head of our | article are reprints from America; our copy of Mary Wollstonecraft's | work is printed at New York (we believe it would be difficult to meet | with an English copy), and with its original dedication to Talleyrand | looks as un-English as possible, while it is the infidel, or semi-infidel | school amongst, ourselves, avowedly in alliance with American | unbelievers, that are agitating it here. | | Yet the tone of demand in the two countries is not identical. Our | sympathies, we confess, run most with the transatlantic sisterhood; | they seem. to us to have a good deal to say for themselves, if not on the | ground of demands, yet of grievances. But it is right to grant | precedence to the appeal of our countrywoman, | | who gives us her views in a very succinct form. The writer of | "Remarks on the Education of Girls," as might be expected, has to | form a school of complainants. Englishwomen now, as in the days of | Mary Wollstonecraft, hug their chains, and do not want more liberty | than they have. Education, then, is her lever to stir the inert mass. Girls | must be differently trained, and then they will not be content in their | present bondage. And, first, their physical training must be reformed. | Strength and growth are to be the sole aim. No attitude is to be deemed | unbecoming; no distinction of sex in these matters is to be | acknowledged. The words "ladylike" and "decorous" are no more to be | named, as | In short, muscular development is the one desideratum. | Then follows | which is to be even on a freer scale; | and on this axiom is built the claim to universal knowledge. | Not only is the whole field of science to be laid open to girls, but they | must, by all means, be instructed in the knowledge of evil. | and to this end a course of George Sands is rigorously | prescribed. From the calm, dispassionate | the term applied to the | reading of French novels, they are to | proceed to the study of political economy, with a view, amongst other | things, of making them more agreeable and intelligent companions to | their future husbands; while, in connexion with the subject of | marriage, they are to be allowed a freer and more unrestrained | intercourse with the other sex than is sanctioned by our customs. Then | they must learn responsibility by being placed in responsible situations, | which naturally leads to advocating a wider sphere of employment than | public opinion now allows to women; arguing for a wife's right to the | exclusive possession of the earnings she is thus in a situation to | acquire. The pamphlet concludes with an animated address to | | bidding these young ladies | that they are the trustees for this | generation of the great Protestant principle of individual research. | she adds, | | Another pamphlet in | connexion with this, and especially with its latter topics, gives a | summary of the English laws concerning women, including the legal | condition of spinsters; the laws concerning married women, and the | disposition of their property; those on separations | | and divorce, and on the maintenance of illegitimate children; with | remarks on their supposed injustice, especially in the matter of | property. And this concludes the English plea for change. | | In spite of the appeal we have quoted to young women as the pioneers | of progress, there is no indication, as we have said, of any general | active sympathy with the views here laid down. In cases of individual | hardship in this country, women suffering under the existing laws or | usages may, and in some instances do, desire a change, but, as a rule, | silence speaks consent to things as they are with us. It is not so in | America. There the free daughters of a free country make known their | discontent by unmistakeable signs. The malcontents probably form a | very small minority even there, but it is a very noisy active, and clever | one, composing a compact and influential party, which it is worth the | while of male factions to encourage, flatter, and fraternise with. Nor | are they content with complaints and. appeals; they take the privileges | they plead for, and wait neither for man's consent nor woman's | acquiescence. They hold conventions ~~ they make speeches ~~ they | preach ~~ they lecture ~~ they physic, and, in the fearless exercise of | these assumed rights, they affix to their names titles and distinctions | which men have hitherto believed their exclusive privilege. Nor can | they be dispossessed of the masculine decorations, which, indeed, it | would seem are fairly earned. | | Many of our readers may not have read, and others may have | forgotten, the history of the Convention of Syracuse, which appeared | two or three years ago in our leading journal. The whole is too long for | insertion, but it puts us so readily in possession of the aims of the fair | assemblage, and shows so forcibly the spirit and determination which | animated the meeting, that we are tempted to introduce this phase of | our subject by some graphic extracts. That the view taken should be a | masculine and | | one is not more than must be expected. and probably was a matter of | indifference to these enthusiasts, who required publicity rather than | sympathy from men who had usurped the world too long, and put them | off with fair speeches instead of just rights. | | | | | After some further remarks on organization ~~ a word apparently in | great disfavour ~~ the business of the meeting commenced with "the | first morning session:" | | | | <****> | | | | That the ladies whose names are here recorded are distinguished | amongst the party, we gather from the independent witness of Mr. | Thos. Wentworth Higginson, whose essay on "Woman and her | Wishes" is one of our subjects, where we find many of them placed in | his list of worthies. | he says, | | And to Miss Lucy Stone he elsewhere gives | this eloquent ~~ we must not say gallant ~~ testimony (p. 20): ~~ | But to return ~~ | | | | Here followed ~~ | | | <****> | | | | Miss Rose, confident in the world-wide importance of the movement, | boldly challenges Mr. Roebuck through the press, | a daring prophecy, which we doubt not was fulfilled. | | | | Continuing his offensive speech in terms which overwhelmed his | hearers with indignation and confusion ~~ | | In this Report are included, either by express mention or implication, | all the demands the movement party amongst | American women are set upon obtaining. All that is understood by the | "rights of women:" ~~ and these are briefly comprehended in an | absolute equality between the sexes, and, in most senses, a subversion | of all the preconceived notions of a natural division of duties. Women, | as a sex, cannot help, it is true, being the mothers of the human race; | but this is not admitted as any exemption from active public service. | Therefore, they demand, first, an education which shall fit them for | this sphere, and an admission to schools and colleges of men, and all | the dignities and preferments annexed to these, at present, close | foundations. Next, they claim political rights, not only the liberty of | voting, but access to every public office. This naturally implies an | assertion of equal fitness with men for every calling, clerical, | professional, legal, medical; and for every art or craft they may incline | to. exclaims Margaret Fuller, | It is needless | to add, that in social life all ideas of subjection are | boldly discarded. Especial stress is laid on the rights of property. No | woman shall forfeit her independence of action by marrying. She shall | be at liberty to earn money by any calling, lay or clerical, she may | choose, and her earnings shall be absolutely her own. The idea of | obedience is, in fact, wholly disowned, as an antiquated figment; for | submission to reason, which they substitute in its stead, proceeds from | an entirely different principle from obedience to authority; the first is | submission to self, the last to | another. Woman is henceforth to be a | | | Nor does she want male advocates to support all these | pretensions: Mr. T. W. Higginson thus sums up their case: ~~ | | | | <****> | | | | Thus far Mr. T. W. Higginson, Minister of the Worcester Free Church. | Theodore Parker, a name too well known for the advocacy of infidel | opinions, but here designated Minister of the Twenty-eighth | Congregational Society, takes the same line of argument: ~~ | | | <****> | | | | | For purposes of their own, these gentlemen claim a new field for | women. They know that the movement party amongst them would | further their own views, while the conservative element in the sex | would on principle remain quiescent, and thus the whole | weight of women, as a political engine, would be | on their side. Mr. Parker wants women to be preachers, public | theological teachers, because he knows the majority of women who | would undertake these offices, would be opposed to dogmatic religion. | We will not venture to quote the train of vital doctrines which he is | confident women would discountenance, mixing with these, however, | opinions which we are accustomed to call Calvinism, but which he | affects to trace to monks and celibates. | he exclaims, triumphantly, | From which we only gather that he is | fully alive to the fact that the preaching ladies would be at odds with | their sisters who think it their duty to be in subjection and learn at | home. Of course it would be the same in politics Nevertheless, as men, | they cling to the old, feminine, gentle, | | yielding, we may almost say, dependent idea of woman. They assert a | difference between the sexes, and feel that difference a charm. We | have seen how Mr. Higginson indulges in compliments to Miss Lucy | Stone's soft voice, | Elsewhere, in | recording a school contest between boys and girls in the field of conic | sections, he finds pleasure in drawing a contrast between the personal | characteristics of the combatants. | This picture of graceful weakness enhances the | pleasure of the triumph. There is still something to patronise and defend. | He would not have cared for the success of these young mathematicians so | much had they been formed in the mould of those female guards of the | "Princess," the ~~ | | | | And Mr. Parker betrays the same predilection for a contrast of mental | qualities in analogy with the differences of physical conformation. | he says, | and further on he betrays the old notion of man's | more comprehensive vision. Man's moral action he calls a sort of | general human providence; | | | But these assertions of a difference, however | cautiously asserted and accompanied by compliment and eulogy, are | distasteful to the "women's-rights women" of every | land, and rejected as a covert assumption of superiority; and justly, for, | veil it as carefully as you will, there lies this assumption underneath. | The authoress of "Remarks on the Education of Girls," | quotes the last passage from Mr. Parker as showing that he is | still behindhand. It is education alone, she assures us, that | makes the difference, and not till the "special" | view is exploded will women exercise their full influence on the moral | well-being of the world. This lady, too, will acknowledge no sisterhood | with "delicate girls" and | "slender fingers." She adduces the full | physical development of Madame Grisi, in her maturest years as the | proper type of womanly grace, and on this head appeals to Mary | Wollstonecraft, who may well indeed be set forth as the unflinching | champion of the cause in all its bearings, and as such her views | demand some distinct mention here. | | On whatever field the battle is fought, man is with the foundress of the | sect the aggressor ~~ the natural enemy of woman. Especially is she | awake to the treachery of all the ordinary forms of gallantry and | politeness (what she calls | ) as insidious chains and golden fetters. | | A few more of her vigorous defiant sentences will not | be misplaced here. | says Rousseau, | and so she dismisses what she calls | | | Apparently, no woman had as yet realized her ideal, therefore her | contempt of her own sex is as freely expressed as her jealousy and | suspicion of ours, and with the same forcible language; and as men are | charged with the desire to render women | so women who submit to such treatment are told | in very plain, unvarnished language, how disgusting themselves and | all their virtues are to her. | patience, docility, | good-humour, flexibility, are virtues, she assures them, | | incompatible with any vigorous exertion of the intellect. The | they are told, makes an | and a | The | is boldly contemned, and | pictures are drawn and illustrations given to show the fatal | consequences of indulgence in obedience, meekness, submission, and | the whole train of weak, mawkish, and dependent virtues. | | She was ready, in fact, to fight the battle of equality on the principles | of abstract reason, desiring fair play and no favour. She disdained the | weapons of her sex, looked forward to the time | and discarded, nay, | even loathed, every pretty wile. The coquetry of dress she abhorred; would | not think so ill of her sex as to believe it possible they were born with | a love for dolls in babyhood, and fine clothes in youth: this was one of the | monstrous charges brought by men against a nature that they had | ruined, degraded by their tyranny, and narrowed by a corrupt | education. | | This is a line we can understand; defying man's power and rejecting all | compromise: it is followed, we have seen, in main points by the | Convention of Syracuse, and also by our own countrywoman in her | "Remarks." But there is a more imaginative school of these energetic | spirits, who claim more than an equality, who wish to be the equals of | men in all social and civil rights, and yet to be the objects of their | tenderness, protection, and solicitude. Margaret Fuller, plain and | personally unattractive as she was, exacted her dues as a woman with | all the tenacity of those of her countrywomen who make no other | claims than what are termed "the privileges of | their sex." Those attentions that were despised by the | pure reason of Mary Wollstonecraft, were indispensable to her comfort and | self-appreciation. Nor did she disdain the | Her female disciples complacently record the | magnificence of her toilette on certain show occasions. She would have fully | approved of the gorgeous hues in which Tennyson decks his female | academics: ~~ | | And this poetical aspect of the movement, in which women leave the | deductions of severe logic, and, scorning any notion of | compact, or exchange of one advantage for | another, rasp all in their eager fancy; and aspire to a future, wherein | their sex shall possess more than their present feminine influence, and | equal man on his own ground, leaving him no exclusive sphere, ~~ | this view of their claims brings us to another work on our | list, the Romance of "Bertha and Lily," wherein we find the | | pictured forth with many | circumstances of picturesque effect, and designed for universal sway: ~~ | | | | The authoress is a mystic and transcendentalist, and her heroine | embodies these qualities or opinions, and is an eclectic of the freest | pattern. All forms of worship and belief, Pagan, Protestant, Catholic, | Rationalistic, are hers by turns, and the personages of the story, who | are living in an American village in the west, with a railway passing | through it, are so elevated and glorified by her presence amongst them, | that supernatural visitations and mysteries of all sorts are as common | with them as the engine's whistle and its accompanying | puffs of steam. There is a spiritual child in the story, after the pattern | of American novels; but "Eva" and the "Pearl" of Mr. Hawthorne are | creatures of gross flesh and blood compared to the "Lily" of this story. | Yet, through these absurdities there shines out much shrewd | observation, and sometimes good sense, though this is a commodity | quite alien from the design and conduct of the story. The principal | characters are this Bertha, a woman transcendently intellectual and | beautiful, of an age nearer thirty than authors often venture upon. But | this maturity is necessary not only for the plot, but to support the | dictum of the party, that female beauty does not attain its height till that | age. With regard to her previous history, we are early informed in her | own language, that she has | and again, that she has found | In fact, a disgraceful stain | attached to her youth, which would have disabled her for a heroine in | less liberal eyes, but was thought needful as a protest against existing | prejudice. At the opening of the book we are allowed this insight into | her journal: ~~ | | | | There is another lady, "Julia," designed to be the type of the | "feminine," which involves with this authoress all that is flirting | flippant, selfish, pretty, and fascinating. The hero, pourtrayed with a | good deal of cleverness and some humour, is the pastor of the village; | and we presume is the authoress's type of man, for he marries Bertha at | the last, after being in love with both ladies all through the book. We | beg to disown him as our representative, yet feel obliged for the | portrait, as frankly significant of the ulterior designs of this party | against our sex, and of the position they hope to reduce us to. This | | as he is candidly designated by one of the | characters of the piece, recognises his subordinate place by slow | degrees. As where he writes: ~~ | | | And his own weaker intellectual organization, lamented in such | confessions as the following, ~~ | elicit her reproofs; | | On the | whole, however, the relative position of the parties suits each equally | well, which we find well stated in Bertha's journal, just before the | denouement: ~~ | | | The course of the book exhibits faint struggles on Ernest's part against | this female supremacy. As a popular and orthodox preacher, he | ventures feeble remonstrances against her heterodoxy. She had made | him adopt and domesticate in his parsonage two pauper children, and | they are discussing their training: ~~ | | | | | Considering their objection to theology, the yearning of | these ladies for the preacher's office is something remarkable. | The question is a good deal discussed between Bertha and | Ernest. On her first settling, a wealthy and independent woman, | in "Beech Glen," she abstains from going to church on the | ground of the excessive dulness of sermons; but Ernest's voice | and manner reconcile her to the practice, though she early asserts her | right, in her argument with "the Deacon," to occupy the pulpit herself. | On her concluding with the Quaker plea, | we find the following comment: ~~ | | | | As his convictions strengthen, we are left to infer that he feels men | have had their turn, and that his office was slipping from, him: ~~ | | | | | Bertha probably thought so too, but from her stand-point of calm | superiority she would not willingly wound his self-love, and, like | all great minds, desired rather the reality of power than the show | of it. She therefore thus delicately seeks his cooperation, when, | towards the close of the volume, her plans are matured: ~~ | | | | | Unwillingly is the Pastor forced to own woman's greater fitness | for the teacher's office, but candour compels the admission: ~~ | | | | We must not dwell on this fond picture of what is to be, for we | are not reviewing a romance, but discussing what may be | regarded as a political movement There is, however, a comparison | between the ideal women of the piece, in the shape of two | portraits from the fluent pen of the hero, which, with some | abridgement, are worth extracting, as exhibiting the two | contrasted types of woman as she should be; the first as she is | supposed to be most pleasing to the vanity of man, the other as | she harmonises with the aspirations of her own sex: ~~ | | | | | No style ever betrayed more clearly the female hand than does | every page of this story; yet it joins in the general aim of the | movement ~~ or we should say of the movement's female | advocates ~~ in asserting an absolute sameness of duties, and of | moral and intellectual qualities in the two sexes. Bertha is a | nondescript ~~ neither man nor woman can properly claim her; | but she is designed to represent all manly excellences, and a great | deal beside, and also to be without all | strictly feminine qualities, She has no fellowship with those | whom she designates as the | And from the mystic | and ideal to the most | matter-of-fact of the party, the same assumption and repudiation | is evident. Whatever qualities have been fondly dwelt upon as the | peculiar charm of woman's nature, these Amazons rudely disown | for themselves, and discard for their sex. | | Take, for example, the theological Grace of Faith. An inborn | sentiment of devotion, an implicit uncavilling reception of divine | truths, an aptness to believe, a readiness of trust, an awe and | reverence of the unseen, an unquestioning surrender of the heart | and affections, a spirit of self-sacrifice consequent on this | realizing of things not seen as yet: these have hitherto been | esteemed qualities of woman's religion, so far as she is religious. | Her part has been not to argue, but to believe, and to show forth | the fruits of a lively, undoubting faith, "holy | both in body and spirit." And men, whom the | necessities of controversy may force, | not without risk to themselves, into an opposite course, leading | them to exercise reason upon the deep things of God, and to | pry into mysteries before which angels veil their faces, have | thought themselves gainers by the presence among them of a | simpler, intuitive, child-like faith, maintaining the calm sanctifies | of religion amidst those who might otherwise lose their awe of | creeds and doctrines, and forget them as actuating principles in | the business of investigation and defence. | | But this is a position which has always been peculiarly offensive | to the pretensions of this school of aspirants; and they parade the | right of an independent exercise of the reason on all subjects, the | most inscrutable and awful, with an audacity which is rarely | found equalled in the rival sex, whom the inherited experience of | many failures may teach a little reticence of expression. The | foundress of this sect, in controverting the statement that woman | was made for man, which she would not believe though an angel | from heaven were to assure her of it, expresses herself thus: ~~ | | | And in her chapter on "Duty to Parents," she | equally disregards any obligation which reason does not enforce. | | Margaret | Fuller, a more attractive specimen of the school, discusses all | questions of faith with the same air of absolute trust in her own | understanding, and of superiority to every revelation, though | possessing belief in certain facts in such guarded formulas as | | | she says, | But we need not | go on to prove a point which will be obvious enough to all who have | followed us so far. | | Again, modesty, as it betrays any colouring from their sex, they | carefully eschew. A purity that fears contamination from the | contact, or mention, or bare knowledge of evil, is with them a | very weak and cowardly virtue. If it may not be put to the proof of | a little rough usage, they can see no use, nor purpose in it. As the | authoress of the "Remarks" expresses it, | | And again, | says Mary Woolstonecraft, | Margaret | Fuller we find commended for having no | and certainly she | never confined the subjects of her conversation or speculation | within feminine limits. Bashfulness and shamefacedness, those | graces whose livery is a blush ~~ the whole family of timid, | shrinking instincts ~~ are affirmed or implied on all hands to be | the fruits of ignorance; they are weaknesses which keep women | from exercising proper control or influence in the world. They | can have no good in them, because they fade | and lose their bloom if exposed continually to the rude touch of | evil. Now, the modesty which alone they will acknowledge as part | of the unshackled woman's nature, is a bolder, more actively | aggressive quality, haling all evil and impurity before the light of | day, and the scrutiny of impartial reason; that being analyzed, and | its root fully investigated, it may then, if found guilty, be | judicially condemned; a process which men, | however enlightened, cannot yet desire to be carried on at | their own hearthstones. | | Again, constancy has hitherto been unanimously regarded as a | virtue. The only question has been which sex may lay the greatest | claim to it, and, women have eagerly asserted their superiority. | | But these modern ladies deny that there is any superiority in the | matter, and are on the whole anxious to disclaim constancy as a | womanly grace or instinct. They will have men understand that | they must not hope to be beloved in the new era, beyond the | moment when they are regarded as the highest ideal of excellence | that has yet been encountered. | says one, | Margaret | Fuller, in her cool account of Made. George | Sands, who is notoriously not constant, | says ~~ | And we find it stated in | "Bertha," | When Julia begins to detect | that her lover's deepest heart is | Bertha's, and sounds her on the subject, that sybil replies: ~~ | | | To say the least of it, a very unsettling theory, and, should this | school gain ground, opening an alarming vista of uncertainty in | the marriage relation, to all who have not the magnanimity to | believe themselves the highest ideal. Nor, alas! can we speak of | these views as mere theory. Already in our own country, amongst | the few, we trust, that hold them, they are bearing their natural | fruits, as all theories on so vital a point must very soon do. One | case of open defiance to the laws of God and man, notorious | enough to have reached many of our readers, was begun and | justified on the lady's part, and is persisted in by all concerned, on | this identical train of reasoning. And as these several virtues are | disowned, and many more in their train, such as obedience, | meekness, humility, so certain womanly glories and privileges are | rejected, as incompatible with the main end of emancipation. In | claiming the larger sphere of | | the world as their own, these women willingly resign the lesser | dominion of household and home, and disparage and invade | without scruple the wife's and mother's rights and office. One | main end of the "Vindication of the Rights of Women" is to | persuade them that the sentiment of warm, devoted, conjugal | affection, all "exclusive affections," | prevent women fulfilling the | duties of their station with dignity, by preoccupying and | narrowing the mind. Bertha takes up her abode in the house of an | old dependant of her family, though fully aware how disagreeable | her presence is to his wife, whose existing and valued "rights" are | thus summarily treated, while she is occupied in gaining others | for her for which she had no taste or desire: ~~ | | | The sacred rights of maternity are in the same way invaded, and | women are to exchange their control over their own children | for a vote in the legislature. | | | The rights, too, of the matron are | infringed in the same way. She is denied authority over her sex. | Young women are promoted over her head. Mere girls are assured | that everything depends upon them; that | they must look into the present laws | | concerning women with a view to a truer union between husband and | wife, | We need not run | through the other advantages renounced in the same cause: the | tenderness which is the due of those who acknowledge | dependence, the immunity from many of this world's most | anxious troubles, the small pleasures, the light relaxations, and | gentle amenities which make home cheerful, and for which there | would be no time and no patience in the new order of things: all | these are sacrificed without a thought, for the sake of fighting the | noisy battle of life side by side with men ~~ doing their work, | joining in their occupations, sharing their rights. | | We have said that our sympathies go rather with the American | portion of the present movement than with our own, a sympathy, | it need hardly be explained, which belongs not to their demands, | but to their existing position. It may surprise those accustomed to | regard America as the land of freedom, emancipated by its | newness from old-world prescriptions and vested rights, to be told | that in no country of the civilised world do women occupy so | subordinate a place in the institutions of their country as in | America; in no country are social habits so much opposed to their | legitimate influence. For ourselves, we hold that the women of | America are to be pitied. In that land of absolute political equality, | with the word "liberty" for ever sounding in their ears, and where | there are none of those subordinate degrees of power as in the old | world, which teach all people, male and female, to be patient at | exclusions of which everyone has his share, they find themselves | with no political existence, absolutely excluded from public | affairs, their existence as part of the body politic ignored. In the | perpetual pother of public interests and political agitation they | keep silence; they have no voice, public or private; while | "every hearth" in England, we are told, | "is a little parliament" and each | household here is keenly and warmly interested in public events. | Mr. Emerson informs us that in America | | and Mr. Higginson makes the same admission: ~~ | | | | The history of America proper, it is true, does not include many | generations, but it does great events. Surely it is the only history | wherein women play no leading part, where they | | have no place, where they are not named. There are women | distinguished for genius and for literature; there are women of | our day notorious for struggles against their insignificance of | position, and for eccentric and often repulsive efforts to change | this, to them, humiliating state of things; but there are no | historical American women. There are | no records of women exercising actual power, possessing popular | acknowledged weight; and we much doubt if they are in the way | to get it, whatever theorists and modern philosophers may say. For | is not society in America too shifting and restless a scene for | female influence? Are the men who are engaged in perpetual | party struggles, every year, almost every day of their lives, | immersed in the ups and downs of politics, and thrown | together constantly for these purposes, in a | state for the slow, gradual, insinuating influence of woman? | Much is said of the superior education of American women, of | the vast range of science which their teaching leads them through, | of the literature with which they are early imbued, and the | languages in which they become adepts. In all these points it is | insinuated that they are not unfrequently superior to their | husbands and their brothers. But mere acquirements, the learning | that may be attained before sixteen or eighteen, bring no great | moral weight with them; it is not learning only, but learning | joined with something else, that brings influence. In some circles | in England (more especially the mercantile middle classes); the | women devote more time to education, and are much more | conversant with literature, than the men; but we do not see that | their influence is greater in their own society or families for this | difference in their favour. Such we apprehend to be the case | in a wider sphere in America. The women read Dante and | Goethe, and the men are occupied in business and politics, and | trouble their heads with no language but their own. The | attainments of their wives and daughters bring them no nearer | to sharing this real power; there is no connexion between the | two ideas. Some of them see this, and are willing to sacrifice | accomplishments and elegancies for a place and a name. | | It is this place which the women of | America seem to want, and for the want of which they are to be | pitied. Mary Wollstonecraft raved for a democracy, and attributed | all the wrongs of her sex to an hereditary monarchy. She never | made a greater mistake. Democracy is essentially | against a woman's legitimate influence. The | great comedian of Athens, in his most offensive plays, the | Ecclesiazusae and Lysistrata, connects, truthfully enough, the | revolt of the Attic harem with the wildest periods political | anarchy. Woman's rule, wherever we see it in due exercise, is | itself a little kingdom. She has dependants and | | obedient subjects for whom she makes laws, and in proportion as | these are obeyed, and her rule acknowledged, does her kingdom | prosper. Whether Margaret Fuller knew it or not, here lies the | reason of the differences she discovers between the women of her | own day and those of the old monarchical times, while her | country still owned King George's sway. | she says, | These | grandmothers ruled their households; but | what kingdom has an American woman? where are her subjects? | She married early, probably, and perhaps began her | conjugal life in a boarding-house ~~ an effectual blow to the | wife's domestic authority over her husband, her first subject. But | if she takes house, where are her legitimate subjects, her servants, | over whom, exercising a wise and beneficent control, ~~ not | labouring but directing ~~ constantly acting in a superior | capacity, she is learning the art of power? In America women are | the victims of their servants, who disown the title, and with it the | subjection. She has children, but from infancy the principles of | democracy and restless liberty are at work to nullify the mother's | authority, or at least to remove them prematurely from it, and the | whole practice of society is to make children independent of their | parents. | | Let us illustrate and endeavour to prove these positions from | various sources. We may appeal to some prejudiced ones, but they | are matters of notoriety. The system of living in boarding-houses | is taken for granted in all American pictures of manners. | Mrs. Trollope thus expresses herself on the effect the custom has | on the domestic influence of women: ~~ | Then follows a history of a day at one of | these places, concluding with the comment: ~~ | | This lady's lively strictures upon the little influence of women on | society in America are probably in the memory of our | | readers; we will not therefore adduce more from her pen. Nor will | they have forgotten the troubles so graphically recorded by our | countrywoman arising from the independent class of | "helps." American writers themselves are | eloquent upon the evils of the present aversion to domestic | service, as derogatory to their dignity, which characterises the | poorer classes in America; and from all these we gather that the | ladies of that country still suffer from the same inconvenience. | Mr. Theodore Parker, as a theorist, argues that in the present | advanced state of science American women have an immense | deal of time upon their hands unemployed, and indulges in the | following comparison between past and present: ~~ | | | As a theory, this is plausible. Indeed it would be true if women, | freed from their household labours, were content to live on in the | homely way necessary when all these cares fell upon them. But as | it is human nature to rise in our desires as our facilities increase, | as a taste for elegancies and luxuries will come with the wealth to | obtain them, and as fashion is infectious, we find that the | ambition of American ladies to equal in style of living their sisters | of the old world, entails upon them the same amount of labour as | before, only bestowed upon different objects, and without the | same amount of help that formerly could be reckoned on. So far | from its being a common idea that these labours are indeed | lightened, the practical experience of a democracy tells quite a | different tale. Mrs. Beecher Stowe is pathetic upon the loss of | early bloom, and the ravages upon health and beauty, which the | domestic toils of a modern American lady entail upon her: ~~ | | | | | And again, writing from Paris, where she is visiting some | compatriots, and admiring the smooth waxed floors as so suited | to a hot climate, she asks if they could not be introduced into | America: ~~ | | | These are her household cares, anxious, vexatious, absorbing, | and yet so far undignified, that a wise woman will brood over | them in secret, and say as little about them as may be. We | have said that a mother's authority over her children is more | short-lived in America than elsewhere, and never so stringent. | For this we adduce not one book or one opinion, but the | universal literature of America. Every book or story written | for the instruction of young people that we have seen ~~ and | America is peculiarly prolific of these ~~ practically ignores the | mother's office, and teaches children to do without her | altogether. They are all told to make themselves and each other | good and wise. The mother has no hand in it. Little motherless | girls, with only their own sense to guide them, are the | salvation of households. They are wise, expert little women of | business. They buy and sell, and conduct affairs. They are | | discreet in conduct, well-informed in mind, graceful in carriage, | all without a mother's training. Indeed, we cannot call to mind a | single mother beyond the first few pages of an American child's | book, unless she happen to be an unwise one, whom the child | has to reform. Jacob Abbot, author of "The Mother at Home," | has lately written a series of children's books, "The Franconia | Stories," all based on this motherless principle of showing | children how they are to train one another. | Some of the children must have parents, but they never | seem to presume to exercise any control, and the children do | perfectly well without it. The parental office might seem a | superfluity; and it cannot play the same | part, it cannot fill the general mind, in a society whose literature | makes this grand omission, as it does with us; and besides, the | fact of the early dispersion and independence of the sons, and | early marriage of the daughters, would necessarily and without | design conduce to the same unfavourable results. In both cases | the mother has lost her charge, and sinks in importance. | | Judging, then, not from observation, but from general report and | from all these data, we see that the social position of American | women is not as noble and dignified as it ought to be, and that | those who desire a change have some plea; though we believe | the remedies they propose are neither practicable in any large | sense, nor tolerable if they were. | | It is not a little agreeable to our patriotism to perceive the envy | with which our institutions are regarded by these candidates for | emancipation. We have queens, regents, peeresses. They have | hunted through our archives, and find that women | may be anything with us, and bring to light | facts which we certainly did not know to be such before. In | more than one document it is stated that women in England may | be parish clerks; and it gives no small idea of the eagerness for | office amongst our fair neighbours, that this apocryphal | distinction should he so coveted and dwelt on. The following | list, gallantly collected by Mr. Higginson, may, perhaps, open a | new view of their privileges to the ladies whom we hope to class | among our readers: ~~ | | | Going on to cite examples of noble dames in our chronicles, | | who were champions, judges, sheriffs, grand chamberlains, | returned members to Parliament, and gloriously did what they | pleased; while, in America, it is pathetically proved that their | public documents forget the existence of the sex altogether. An | able commentator on American institutions remarks, ~~ | | | | We have stigmatized democracy as a form of government opposed | to the influence of women: we believe Puritanism to be | not less so. Queen Elizabeth felt this, and kept it down. Knox set | himself against the | Milton struck a blow, ill his character of Eve, at | the intellectual pretensions of the sex, and made her, even in | Paradise, an inferior creature, a | and for a hundred years and | more this epithet expresses the universal sentiment; veiled in the | tender monitory gallantry of the Spectator, | more scornfully and openly avowed by the poets, | novelists, dramatists, and humourists of that age, and borne with | apathetic submission by the sex itself, content | with the extravagant homage paid to their beauty, and | apparently resigning themselves for this equivalent to the | reproach of frivolity, vanity, lowness of aim, and weakness of | purpose. As far as the literature of an age shows its spirit, never | was woman's state and consequence in a Christian country at a | lower ebb than in the eighteenth century. All their advisers ~~ | the moralists who devoted themselves to their amendment ~~ | thought another and inferior set of motives necessary for their | very subordinate place and intellect, than were offered to men. | Women were not to be influenced by a frank love of right and | hatred of wrong but by a code of lower morals involving | artifice, concealment, suppressions; and unscrupulously | recommending selfish interest and a desire for conquest as | motives of action. When Mary Wollstonecraft denounces this | class of teachers, she carries our sympathies wholly with her. It | is incredible to our ears by what low inducements the preachers | and teachers of that age sought to win women to a love of virtue. | Fordyce's Sermons formed part of every young woman's library. | There he addresses his countrywomen, | | recommending them to the practice of piety by such persuasions | as these: | | | Dr. Gregory in his Legacy to his Daughters, advises them: | | On which we find | this just comment: | as he afterwards observes, | But | this was a level to which women were deliberately condemned, though | they are consoled by the assurance that | This "power," not over | herself but man, is the great aim set | forth; for this every art and dissimulation was to be practised, | for this woman was always to seem to | be something different from what it was her nature to be. | Rousseau followed in the same track. The celebrated women of | the day took up the strain ~~ Mrs. Piozzi, Madame de Stael, | Madame de Genlis. "Maiden meditation fancy free," | "the step of virgin liberty," were charms not | appreciated by that narrow, trifling, and artificial generation; | and though, doubtless, innumerable women were doing their | duty in all dignity and simplicity because it | was their duty, yet the historical aspect of the women of | the period was universally tinctured and lowered by these | debasing motives of action. | | Puritanism and the licence that succeeded it were alike opposed | to the sex's just influence; but the earlier ages of Christianity | were free from this jealousy. Then high motives were | acknowledged, though they might be mistaken ones, and women | were allowed a sphere independent of man, and were reverenced | in it. Men never talked of "woman's rights," | it is true, but | | wherever they saw zeal and power working in a sacred cause, | they owned the inspiration and submitted as willingly to a | woman's guidance as to a man's, if they were satisfied only that | the impulse came from on high. Their poets delighted in the | embodying of courage, wisdom, strength, and power, in | woman's form. In chivalry, their knights endured defeat from a | feminine hand. Proud barons submitted themselves to a woman's | rule, and female saints were accepted by the Church as guides | and teachers. | | We can well imagine a sentiment of envy amongst the Theresas | and Britomarts, the "great Matildas" | of the new world, as they | survey the position of great-minded women in the despised dark | ages and its abhorred feudal system. These women by no | self-assertion, only because greatness was acknowledged as a | heaven-sent gift peculiar to neither sex though modified by it, | attained a place which these female aspirants pant and strive for | in vain. When will the Church yield them | such homage? when will their | decisions be received by men with such submission as we find | accorded to a mediaeval saint? ~~ | | | Even without the higher gifts of S. Hildegard, a pious woman | some thousand years ago had only to cause her confessor to | brick her up in her cell in some populous place, leaving her no | outlet upon the world than her small window; and to this | window would flock the devout of every sex and condition, to | receive her instructions, to profit by her teaching, and to emulate | her example, with a deference which Dr. Antoinette Brown | might hope for in vain in all her circuits of preaching. It is true | that the mediaeval confessor in one case of this practice suffered | death from the Huns, which shows at first sight an advantage on | the side of the modern Doctor, till we reflect that, beyond all | doubt, deriding Huns are not wanting from her congregations, | vexing her spirit without procuring her the glory of canonization | after her decease. | | The modern school are, as a body, | | yet it is alone on the principle of faith that women | can ever obtain this coveted respect. and wider field. The male | dictum which so offended the ladies of Syracuse, that the | "physical element rules the world," | will universally prevail | where the higher principle is not acknowledged. But women | have always been allowed an unlimited range of action; no | work, no honours have been deemed unsuited for or above them, | where men have recognised in them, whether rightly or wrongly, | evidences of an inspiration, an express call, | or even the lower inspiration of genius, in admiration of | which we find the universities of the middle ages pressing their | honours upon distinguished women. | | writes Mr. Kenelm | Digby, | Celebrated | men from all parts of Italy assembled to hear the exercises | attendant on these ceremonies, which Helena accomplished to | the delight and astonishment of all present; but her words | proved prophetic, she died after receiving the laurel crown. | | In our own less impulsive age it is the same; amongst those, | | at least, not tied down by either of the jealous principles we have | mentioned. For Puritanism still shows its original bias in | denouncing any departure in women for any purpose from the | ordinary routine of domestic duty, even though it be to shield the | orphan or to tend the wounded and the dying. But to men | obeying their natural impulses, there is still a glory and a | fascination round woman's heroism, genius, or self-devotion, as | having in them something heaven-born and divine. Doubtless | there are broad distinctions between this state of feeling and | that recognition of equality of sphere | demanded from mankind by these propagandists. It is | because they are exceptional, and | therefore indicative of some sacred or extraordinary influence, | that men's enthusiasm is roused by unusual displays of energy | and power in women; and success must crown these unusual | efforts (as evidences, as it were, of a mission), to justify the | effort being made. A woman who undertakes a man's office and | fails in it, who gives up her own retired sphere to bungle in a | public, one, will have no sympathy from any | class of men. Such as seem to encourage them now for | their own purposes appeal to these exceptional cases, affecting | to assume that they will become common ones; but impartial | minds have intuitive perceptions on the subject, against which | all the battery of the most elaborate theory thunders in vain. | | And this natural sentiment of mankind is supported by that | "appeal to the Bible," | of which the ladies of the Convention | were so apprehensive. Ranging through various dispensations | and modes of life, as a simple record, as legislating, instructing, | admonishing; the subordination in which their physical | inferiority places women, and which is universally taken for | granted, is never in the Sacred Page assumed as an argument | against freedom of thought, independence of action, or the | highest efforts of heroic daring. Milton's Eve is certainly no | embodiment of womanhood as we find it, pictured in the Bible. | The good wife there has "claims" which she will not forego, and | which the husband is divinely taught to submit himself to. | | are | words which convince us that the wives of those patriarchal | times held no timid or uncertain place in the social economy, | that their rights were clearly defined ~~ and universally | acknowledged. Nor do we find in the ages when angels conversed with | men, that women were either excluded, or excluded themselves, | from that high intercourse, after the pattern of her whom the | poet of Democracy and Puritanism sets forth for the example of | her sex, and who left the presence of Raphael, because | | | | On the contrary, it would seem they were sometimes chosen to | receive supernatural communications rather than men, from | some superior fitness in themselves for the revelation, apparently | for a simplicity of faith which preserved them from servile | mortal fear. As where Manoah's wife has to encourage and | strengthen her husband by arguments against which his terror | had blinded him: for he had said to her, ~~ | | | Nor were all the godly women of old formed in one mould of | "soft attractive grace;" | they had individual characteristics as | sharply defined and varied as men. They did not say to their | husbands, ~~ "God is thy law, thou mine," | but felt personal responsibility. If needs were they | "put themselves forward," as | the phrase now runs, and did a man's work when called to it, | wisely and effectually. But powers thus vigorously exercised | and acknowledged on all hands, never inspired them with any | ambition permanently to change or even enlarge their sphere. | They did not despise their appropriate work because they could | succeed, and were even occasionally divinely appointed to | labour beyond it. Under the Gospel dispensation, however, there | may not unlikely have been dawnings of another spirit. S. Paul's | sharp admonitions to the Corinthian women seem to indicate | this. Born in the bondage and subservience of heathenism, and | suddenly admitted to the liberty of Christ, it would appear the | female converts in the first rapture of emancipation were | disposed, as all enthusiasts are, to disregard the teaching of | nature, and to assume permanently and as a right a place in the | Church for which their sex unfitted them: and by this | assumption gave cause for the stringent and repressive | enactments which have since guided the Church, as the most | direct legislation on the subject which the Bible furnishes. It was | when the gifts of the Spirit were most freely poured out, and sex | and condition seemed alike disregarded in these miraculous | dispensations, that men needed to be taught anew the sacredness | of the primary laws of our being, and that the moral teaching of | nature was as much the will of God, and as such to be our rule | and standard, as the visible workings of His power; that the new | dispensation was to be interpreted by the old, and that, whatever | might appear to those dazzled by the present glories, there was | no real contradiction possible between the two. | | And here we seem brought down to the question of the | | practical use of the present inquiry, which, as far as we are | concerned, is simply to ascertain how far these primary laws and | subsequent dispensations, how far the teaching of nature and | grace, are followed out in the present social condition of one | half of the human race, seeking to confine the subject to our | own country as being the scene of our especial interest and | knowledge. The complainants appeal to certain rights which | they consider themselves to have as possessing certain faculties | and aspirations; they acknowledge no natural subordination and | no laws of sex, only the dictates of unassisted reason, and, what | is termed, the law of each separate person's being ~~ an | expression too often in its application interpretable into a | privilege inherent in every individual to obey the instincts of a | fallen nature whatever they may be; a theory, of course, | subversive of all morality, and striking at the root of social | order. We, on the contrary, as believers in God's Word, | acknowledge an external law, approved, it is true, by our highest | reason, but not subject to its decisions, a law which we are | bound to obey because it is written with the finger of God upon | our consciences, and because our nature is so created that true | happiness depends on the obedience; and we believe in a | Revelation which not only instructs us in the history of our | human nature, but dictates the spirit in which we are to | receive its communication, not allowing cavil or question. To | us so believing, the word "rights" as belonging to any human | being, is apt to sound arrogant; not, of course, that we would | deny that men have rights relatively to one another ~~ no truth is | more certain or more important; the denial of it is the basis of all | tyranny. But in the sense in which the word is used, it is carried | beyond this social idea, and seems to constitute a claim not | only upon man, but upon God, to whom we owe | duties, but can make no demands. And, in | fact, the persons who adopt the word as their cry, do as a body | refuse the appeal to the written word and divine ordinances, | except that which they hold most divine and alone unanswerable | ~~ the conclusions of their own reason. Thus, before we know | what the rights claimed are we are disposed to suspect them, | from the spirit of defiance to all authority, human and divine, | with which they are started; and the conduct of the inquiry does | little to allay our suspicions. It is heady and highminded, | disparaging woman's more obvious sphere, despising and even | vituperating such of the sex as will not join the ranks of the | disaffected, and the whole tone in violent contradiction of that | spirit which men have agreed to reverence and admire as their | ideal of feminine goodness. | | But when we see persons acting against their nature, and in | opposition to what we have hitherto supposed their | characteristics ~~ when we thus, for instance, find women | departing from their | | ordinary rules of conduct, and exchanging that conservative | practical good sense which we have always thought a feminine | attribute, for the new, untried ground of theory, for extravagant | assumption, and argument founded on abstract reasoning, it | becomes necessary to inquire into the causes of the | phenomenon, and to ascertain, before we apply indiscriminate | blame, whether there may not be some social injustice pressing | hard on certain tempers ~~ some fault of position giving | reasonable ground of dissatisfaction, and perhaps at the root of | these discontents. That such social injustice does exist in | America, depriving woman of her natural weight and influence, | we have endeavoured to show while adducing local causes for | the evil; may there not be errors in our social economy, | producing, though in a less degree, unfavourable results? | | The party in England have published (as furnishing arguments | for their cause) | showing especially the loss of all independent rights of | person or property suffered by the wife. | It is the married woman who, according to this view, is the | victim of injustice. She ceases to exist, and great point is laid on | this legal disappearance from the human family, this absorption | into another stronger being, as though a degradation of which | the victim must be always conscious. We are far from denying | that where the husband grossly fails in his duty, and casts aside | all respects, he is enabled to play the tyrant to terrible purpose, | and yet keep within the limits of the law. Something has been | done to protect women of the lowest class from a husband's | brutality; something has no doubt still to be done to relieve | women in a higher position from this worst of all oppressions. | But no man can ill-use his wife and retain his place in public | estimation; he cannot make his wife miserable without, at the | same time, himself being held contemptible or odious. Public | opinion is dead against him. No impartial observer of English | society can say that the position of the English wife is affected | by these exceptional cases, or show that anything is wanting as a | general rule to her dignity, honour, or happiness. No other | country can be pointed out, where woman, including in herself | the offices of wife, mother, mistress, and director of social | intercourse, has a nobler sphere for the exercise of her faculties, | or stands higher in the respect of mankind. | | According, however, to those legal tests of woman's position, | that of the unmarried woman is the most satisfactory. | | | All this is true enough, but | there are laws of feeling prior to laws of the land; and it is by | those natural estimates that the question of the most | aggrieved is truly decided; and we believe, whatever quarrel | may be found against certain laws, that the real blame of | what is amiss rests with public opinion, and that, the | sufferers are not the married, on whom our enactments are | supposed to press so hard, but these same independent and | comparatively free single women. | Women always have been, and, it is no bold prophecy to say, | they always will be, more dependent on public opinion than | men; and this great power does certainly interfere to depress | single women as a class, and withhold them from a free, | natural development into usefulness and honour. The term | applied to them is one of disparagement, from which too | many women have shrunk, and sacrificed all that was best | worth living for, from dread of being called an old maid. | This is an old tale, and a very trite complaint; but a name | would not have the influence it is acknowledged on all hands | to have, did not public opinion contribute to the formation of | the character it holds up to derision, by condemning women | of mature age, if they would keep their station to a life of | indolence. | | One difference between male and female nature is a natural | love in women for occupation: we do not say hard or | repulsive labour, but work. The | curse upon labour was not spoken to them, and this | immunity ~~ if we may call it so ~~ is typified in the | different uses by the two sexes of this very word. A woman's | "work" is her pleasure, her refreshment, without which her | most unrestrained hours would miss some of their charm. | She applies it to light, easy, manual occupation. A man's | "work" is his duty, the sweat of his brow. | His repose comes after it is over. Thus, even an | industrious man spends some hours of every day doing | nothing; his wife finds something | for her hands to do all the day long. In youth and girlhood | this necessity finds ample indulgence in light, graceful | employments; in the cultivation of accomplishments ~~ | even, it may be, in what so disgusted the high-minded | American young lady, "making pretty things" | for herself and | her friends to wear. Then commonly comes marriage, and | the more responsible occupations of mature life succeed | naturally, leaving no void. But if a woman does not | marry, the time conies when accomplishments are acquired, | or given up, when they cease to be a pursuit filling much | time, | | when light employments lose some of their grace, when | "pretty things to wear" | should not occupy the mind of the | wearer, when graver cares and weightier occupations would | become her well; and from these public opinion, with one or | two exceptions, debars her. She is expected and required to | tend the sick and feeble amongst her own relations; the task | "to smoothe the pillow of declining age" | is hers, and she may | devote her energies to the poor, and she is happy and | honoured in both these occupations; but beyond them she | cannot employ herself in practical absorbing employment, | without losing caste. Even if she be comparatively poor, in | narrow circumstances, her family would rather she continued | the prey of little cares, and be forced all her life to small | shifts, than that by any occupation, even that of tuition, she | enlarged her income. Any occupation, in trade or official | service, such as her brothers pursue, would sink her in the | social scale. If she would stand well with her acquaintance, | and be acknowledged by them, she must not attempt to earn | money. Whatever her energies or capabilities, she would | better please her relations, those on whom her comfort | depends and her affections rest, by remaining inactive, than | by turning them to any profitable account. Literature may be | held an exception; but it can neither be regarded seriously | as a paying occupation, nor thought | of simply as something to do without more express | qualifications. Thus, that industry which we have spoken of | as a feminine characteristic, is denied free action, or left to | prey upon itself. And all personal peculiarities, which a busy | life would keep under just as the cares of married life keep | them under, are left to develop, and become unpleasing | exaggerations in uncongenial leisure. This is an evil ~~ if it | be granted to be an evil ~~ which no laws can remove. Any | change must be gradual. It is difficult even to those most | alive to it to propose a remedy; for society is so complicated | a body, every detail of it so depending on every other, that | changes in it always seem practical impossibilities. Yet the | fact of a class of intelligent human beings condemned to | inactivity in a busy community ~~ not because their nature | chooses idleness, nor because society fosters and respects | them for it, but because gentility requires this | self-immolation ~~ is at least a just subject for speculation | and inquiry. The question of nunneries, sisterhoods, and the | like, is not relevant here. These imply a vocation which few | can be supposed to have, and society would indeed be a loser | if its best, most self-devoted, able, genial single women, | were withdrawn from their natural sphere, and collected into | compact organized bodies. Nor does what we say apply to | rich persons. Money always secures | respect enough, and, what is better for this argument, it gives | something | | thing to do. A single woman of independent fortune has a | place in society, and may be an important and influential | member of it. We are speaking for that class, be it large or | small, whom we need not further define, towards which | society has always been most hard and unsympathising, and | who are legislated for in its parliament without being | allowed representatives or a voice. | | We need scarcely say we are not advocating for ladies, single | or otherwise, an admission to the learned professions. We do | not desire to see them preachers, doctors, or lawyers; indeed, | our own sex furnishes more than enough in all these | departments, and the principle of self-defence comes in. We | cannot doubt, however, that society might be so organized, | with a view to the capabilities and powers of its members, as | to find suitable employment for all. Nor are we bound to | believe any acknowledged evil necessary, because we cannot | suggest a sure remedy. | | The heaviest complaints of oppression, however, ~~ to | return to the grievances which form our subject ~~ are made | on the condition of married women. | The law does not forbid spinsters earning money, nor | keeping it when earned; but in the other case the wife earns | money, it is said, for the husband to spend. The law will not | allow her a separate purse. She has nothing, and can have | nothing, of her own; and cases of great hardship are | adduced, both in England and America, where a woman's | hard-won money supports the husband in disgraceful | extravagance. All these evils are laid to the blame of the | law. But does the law do more than | acknowledge that great primary law of the marriage state, | | ~~ and could it interfere and | make provision for imprudent, ill-advised, and worldly | marriages, and secure the wife from the natural | consequences of a bad choice, whether made | for her or by | herself, wilfully or in ignorance, without weakening the | strength of that most sacred tie in all cases, and impairing the | impression of unity of interests, so essential to perfect unity | of thought and feeling? No law can prevent an unfortunate | marriage being the utmost evil that can befal a woman, | though it could certainly mitigate some of its consequences. | But the knowledge of a careful protection, by the law, of | pecuniary interests, might encourage recklessness of choice, | and might also remove some salutary checks on the | indulgence of temper, discontent, and the whole train of | matrimonial miseries. Other countries are adduced ~~ | France, Turkey, Hungary ~~ where the laws of property are | much move in favour of the wife; but we believe facts would | fully show that in those countries marriages are neither so | happy nor the wife so honoured and so secure as | | in our own. But leaving, the question of the disposition of | inherited property, great point is made, as we have said, of | the right of married women to the uncontrolled use of their | own earnings, on the supposition that women of the higher | classes might find time, in addition to their household cares, | to pursue some regular employment or profession. Mr. | Parker especially instances preaching | and the practice of medicine as suitable occupations | for the mistress of a family. And other American authorities | are rejoicing that the law has its female advocates. These | peculiar pursuits sound as yet impossible extremes to | English ears; but they are some amongst many means of | earning money; and it is on this pecuniary ground alone that | we now object to the suggestion. We believe that any | additional encouragement to married women to devote | themselves to earning money would be an evil. | | It is very well for men intent on a theory to suppose, that | because in some things the labours of women are lightened, | therefore the mother and mistress of a family has indefinitely | more time at her command than was formerly the case. We | assert confidently, with no fear of contradiction from any | competent to judge, that there is now, as there always has | been, and we doubt not always will be, occupation for all the | best energies of even a gifted woman in the due performance | of her conjugal, maternal, household, and social duties; and | also that no household is conducted as well as it might and | ought to be, where a woman's best powers are not devoted to | her husband, her children, and her home. We say her | best powers ~~ all that is most choice, | gifted, and original. If there is any part of herself that she | withholds from these claimants, and devotes to some other | purpose; if there is any channel for exertion and display for | which she circumscribes and curtails her home efforts; if she | is ever tempted to keep her second best | for home, in order to lavish her affluence and | freshness elsewhere, to weary herself in another service, and | bestow only her worn-out energies on this smaller scene; if | she ever suffers other spheres of so-called duty to interfere | with the highest excellence she is capable of in these primary | obligations; or if she allow talent and genius to tempt her | into regarding as drudgery the work nature and Heaven have | laid out for her, ~~ she betrays her trust, and errs fatally in | that very article of duty most paramount and essential. And | what a temptation to this error does the suggestion of an | independent calling and separate interests offer! No doubt | talent and genius, power of any kind, are designed for as | wide a field as they can occupy, without forsaking this | central point of home; and cases of gifted women will occur | to everyone , | who have furthered the interests of their family | while benefiting | | a wider circle; but these must always be exceptions, and a | woman's home concerns so entirely spread over her time that | there must always be some danger of occupations wholly | distinct, isolating and detaching her from them. For these | "home concerns" | take a wide range, | extending with the rank and position, not to speak of what | are most commonly understood by maternal and household | duties; the wife is the regulator of social intercourse; the | small cares of society devolve upon her; she has to cultivate | acquaintances and to cement friendships, for her husband's | present enjoyment, and her children's future benefit. She is | also her husband's almoner; the poor of her own parish or | near neighbourhood should be personally known to her, for | she cannot help them wisely without a knowledge of their | character and circumstances; and when all these daily duties | are attended to, we ask Mr. Parker where is the time for | writing her Sunday sermons or visiting her patients, and are | these to be her first consideration or her second? One or | other, we venture to say, must go to the wall. Of the two it | had certainly better be the sermon; but in reality we suspect | that, in most cases, the public ministrations would gain the | day. Seriously, in the perfect theory of a family the wife | ought to have nothing to do with earning money. We know | that in an imperfect state of things no perfect theory can be | carried out, and we are quite willing to allow that in | innumerable cases this ideal perfection must be abandoned; | but we feel certain that in every | model family that at this moment occurs to our readers, of | whatever class, the wife is not what is called the | bread-winner, ~~ she has nothing whatever to do with this | department. She is the economist, the wise dispenser, the | manager, the money-spender of the family; and whenever | she gives up these important offices to be merely one of the | providers, she gives up her headship, and sinks into an | inferior and less responsible office. | | We have already touched upon the danger of the new system | in the intellectual classes. But the poor may be supposed | under a different law, and certainly where the rate of wages | is too low, women do seem sometimes compelled to | degenerate from managers into labourers. But, even here, the | advantage we believe to be in most instances doubtful, and | half her wages lost in the confusion and waste that reigns at | home. In manufacturing districts, where the wages are | higher, this is visibly the case. How many of the instances of | deformity and disease amongst children may be traced to | their mothers having left them to the care of others while | they went to work! and even where she has her work at | home we have seen similar ill consequences, especially in | sedentary employments, in which the children can take no | part, and are only in the way. The monotony of | | manual labour, allowing the mind to range off in dreams or | mere vacuity, is preferred to the mental effort continually | required to observe puncnctuality, and to keep things in | order. The meals are neglected ~~ the children sent out of | doors to find companions in the street ~~ the daughters left | to follow their own devices ~~ unswept, unwashed, | unmended house, and household in perpetual confusion and | discomfort: it is at this sacrifice that a few additional | shillings are added weekly by the wife to the family income. | | Our argument, then, leads to the conclusion that married | women, at least, have their duties prescribed to them too | numerous and arduous to admit of their interference in | another sphere, as a rule of ordinary practice. Nor can it he | denied that this admission throws another difficulty in the | way of that wider field of occupation we would desire to see | opened to women leading a single life. As marriage is a | providential arrangement, it is not desirable that young | women should settle the question for themselves, whether | they shall marry or not, as the indignant daughters of Young | America are disposed to do, when called upon not to be | heroines but mothers of heroes; nor would previous | settlement have any weight against inclination, when the | moment for decision came. No calling then needing | a special education, and involving such expenses as the | settlement of sons require, would ever obtain the consent of | a father, who would infallibly prefer, as mankind is | constituted, seeing his daughter established in advantageous | marriage, than in the solitary practice of some business or | other calling, however adapted to be a woman's pursuit. | | The other demand universally made by these advocates of | progress is for political power ~~ especially, and as a | preliminary, the right of voting at elections. Many plausible | things may be and are said on this point, such as that the | noblest woman has no voice in the state, while drunken | freemen decide many an election, and so forth, triumphantly | repeating the argument, | that thousands of women who are denied all legislative rights | are better informed on the questions at issue than those who | really decide them. But, in fact, the question is not to be | considered under this intellectual test, but under those | primary laws of a division of labour and duties between the | sexes to which we have appealed. We believe that our | women have great political influence as it is, and that they | would not, in fact, increase it by the right of voting being | imposed upon them; for that it would be an imposition upon | the majority we are convinced. It is a fallacy to say, as these | people do, no woman would be obliged | to vote, for a right always involves a duty; and if, as | the movement evidently supposes, the conservative | | class of women refused the responsibility, and the agitators | availed themselves of it, all power would be thrown at once | into their hands, which must by no means be allowed, | and there would infallibly ensue social and public | disturbance, excitement, and female contentions, open to the | ridicule of brother electors, and grievous to the taste and | principles of the more feminine politicians, who are used to | express their opinions and to receive deference for them in | private, but who would find no fair arena for the exercise of | their judgment in the tumult of men and men-like women, | who would carry all before them, and alone be heard in large | public assemblies. We do but touch, however, on this part of | the subject, as our institutions are on no side considered ripe | for this innovation, and at present the arguments against it | reign in most minds of either sex undisturbed by doubt or | question. | | One topic, which might seem to bear on the present inquiry, | we have not referred to, though of more general and practical | interest than any balancing of theoretical rights or claims can | be ~~ we mean the existing laws of Divorce. But as these | now stand, it is especially a man's question, and the aspect of | the question has no exclusively feminine side, and we | therefore do not enlarge further upon it here. | | Our remarks have followed a devious course, and we fear | have not assumed a very practical bearing. But it has not | been our design to treat the matter | or to | utter any stern assertion of our old-fashioned principles, | which we have in fact supposed to be too universally shared | by our readers to be necessary. This feminine movement is | but one of the many questions on which the believers in | progress and perfectibility will always be at issue with those | who, following the Preacher, see nothing new under the sun, | but the thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; a | conviction which, once firmly established in the mind, is so | sustained and borne out by individual experience, that all | opposite speculations will ever appear baseless visions. Yet, | in some sense, the two contradictory views are to be | reconciled. That which is done is indeed that which shall be | done; and yet there is such a thing as progress. Man in | himself remains the same, in his nature, in his weakness, in | his desires, in his joys and sorrows, in his trials and | alleviations, in his brief life of small and, for the most part, | insignificant cares and doings whereby he is to prepare | himself for a great future immortal existence. Yet society, of | which he forms a part, all the while advances, the arts of life | develop, opinion takes a higher stand. We should feel to | have gone back and suffered loss in the moral atmosphere of | fifty, or a hundred, or a thousand years ago; and yet this | advanced public opinion does not really | | elevate the inmost heart and conscience above the evil | thoughts and low aims, which have tempted and will tempt | man to sin and his soul's loss, generation after generation, | from the deluge to the final day. So, again, the marvellous | show of social and intellectual progress is alike compatible | with a stationary measure of real intelligence in the aggregate | of civilized men. The masses will still be dependent on the | world's great thinkers and inventors, obeying their impulses, | the mere instruments to further their ends and carry out their | designs; toiling at another's bidding, thinking the thoughts | that have been suggested to them, acquiescing passively in | discovery after discovery, and being themselves but partially | and remotely affected by them. Though science brings the | ends of the earth together, and multiplies production a | thousand-fold ~~ under the sun there will still be labour of | arm, mechanical toil, wrought in the sweat of man's brow to | sustain life; and under this universal law and necessity the | nature of the toil, and the | instruments employed, sink into insignificance, as matter | must always do in comparison with man that wields it to his | purposes. And if progress leaves men | so much as it found them, does not the analogy apply | to woman also? If man's nature has its bounds that it cannot | pass, if his lot is fixed and certain, though knowledge | increase and strive to emancipate him, can woman subvert | her six thousand years' destiny, and take upon herself a new | course, new duties, and another sphere? Two pictures | are set up before us of the last days by Him who took upon | Him our nature, and both distinctly express the continuance | of man and woman in their appointed place, the same at the | end of the world as at the beginning. Then, as in the days of | Noe, men | and women be given | submitting to be ruled; and then | as now man's scene of labour shall be the field, the outer | world, and woman's the dwelling, making ready and | dispensing what his toil provides. Happy both, equally | blessed, if they so accomplish their appointed tasks as to be | "taken" to an eternity of nobler employment, where no lofty | aspiration of either shall remain unsatisfied!