Observations on the Causes of Women's Degradation

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.

I think it is clear that women are either naturally weak or degraded by a combination of circumstances. But I will contrast this view with an argument I have often heard sensible men make in favor of an aristocracy. They argue that the mass of humanity must be worthless. Otherwise, these submissive slaves, who patiently allow themselves to be penned up, would recognize their own worth and throw off their chains. These men further observe that people everywhere submit to oppression when they need only lift their heads to cast off the yoke. Yet, instead of asserting their birthright, they quietly lick the dust and say, let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die. By analogy, I argue that women are degraded by the same tendency to enjoy the present moment. In the end, they come to despise the freedom they lack the 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.

Everyone agrees that sex does not matter when it comes to developing the heart. But the supposed lower rank of women’s mental powers must never be overlooked. Allowed to be “absolute in loveliness” alone, woman is granted very little capacity for reason. For if she is denied genius and judgment, it is hardly possible to guess what remains to define her 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.

The foundation of immortality, if I may use the phrase, is the ability of human reason to improve. Suppose man had been created perfect. Or suppose that, on reaching maturity, he had been flooded with knowledge that prevented error. Then I would doubt whether his existence continued after the body died. But things are not so. Every moral difficulty that human discussion cannot resolve supports my belief in the soul’s immortality. Such difficulties defeat both the investigations of deep thought and the lightning glance of genius. Reason is, therefore, simply the power to improve or, more precisely, to recognize truth. In this respect, every individual is a world in itself. Reason may be more evident in one person than in another. But its nature must be the same in all, if it comes from the divine and connects the creature with the Creator. For can a soul bear the image of heaven if it is not perfected by exercising its own reason? Yet woman’s soul is not allowed this distinction. Instead, woman is decorated outwardly with elaborate care and adorned to delight man, "that with honour he may love," (see Milton). Man is always placed between her and reason. She is always portrayed as created only to see through a crude filter and to accept things on trust. But let us dismiss these fanciful theories and consider woman as a whole, whatever that whole may be, rather than as a part of man. The question is whether she has reason or not. If she has reason, as I will assume for the moment, she was not created merely to comfort man. Her character as a woman should not destroy her character as a human being.

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.

Men have probably been led into this error by a false view of education. They have seen it only as preparation for life, not as the first step in shaping a being gradually advancing toward perfection. (Perfection is not quite the right word, but I cannot find a better one.) On this sensual error, for I must call it that, the false system of feminine manners has been built. It robs the whole sex of dignity and places women of every complexion alongside smiling flowers that merely decorate the land. Men have always spoken this way. And fear of departing from what is supposed to be feminine has made even women of superior sense adopt the same views. Thus, women have been denied understanding, strictly speaking. In its place, instinct, refined into wit and cunning, has been substituted to serve the purposes of life.

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?

For an immortal being, the only skill that truly deserves to be called knowledge is the ability to generalize ideas and draw broad conclusions from individual observations. Simply observing things without trying to explain them may serve, very imperfectly, as the common sense needed for everyday life. But where is the store of knowledge that will 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.

Women have not only been denied this power. Writers have also insisted that, with a few exceptions, it is incompatible with women's nature. Let men prove this claim, and I will grant that women exist only for men. First, however, I must point out that the ability to generalize ideas to any great extent is uncommon among both men and women. But exercising this ability is the true way to develop understanding. And everything combines to make developing understanding more difficult for women than for men.

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.

This assertion naturally brings me to the main subject of this chapter. I will now try to identify some causes that degrade women and prevent them from drawing general conclusions from 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.

I will not look back into ancient history to trace the history of women. It is enough to acknowledge that women have always been either slaves or tyrants. Both conditions equally hinder the progress of reason. The main source of women’s foolishness and vice has always seemed to me to be narrow-mindedness. The very structure of civil governments has created almost insurmountable obstacles to educating women’s minds. Yet virtue can be built on no other foundation! The same obstacles stand in the way of the rich, with the same consequences.

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?

Necessity is often called the mother of invention. The saying may also apply to virtue. Virtue must be acquired, and acquiring it requires sacrificing pleasure. But who sacrifices pleasure when it is within reach? Only someone whose mind has been opened and strengthened by adversity, or by the pursuit of knowledge driven by necessity. It is fortunate when people have life’s cares to struggle with. For these struggles keep them from falling prey to weakening vices simply because they are idle! But suppose men and women are placed in a scorching zone from birth, with the midday sun of pleasure beating directly upon them. How can they strengthen their minds enough to carry out life’s duties? How can they even enjoy the affections that draw them beyond 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."

In society as it is now organized, pleasure is the business of a woman's life. As long as it remains so, little can be expected from such weak beings. Women have inherited the rule of beauty in a direct line from the first beautiful flaw in nature. To maintain their power, they have given up the natural rights that they might have gained by exercising reason. They have chosen to be queens for a short time rather than work for the sober pleasures of equality. Women are raised up by their own inferiority. This sounds like a contradiction. They constantly demand homage as women, though experience should teach them otherwise. The men who pride themselves on paying women this arbitrary, insulting respect with the greatest care are most inclined to tyrannize over them. Such men also despise the very weakness they encourage. They often repeat Mr. Hume's sentiments about women when he compares the French and Athenian character. "But what is even stranger about this whimsical nation, I say to the Athenians, is this. During the Saturnalia, you have a bit of fun when masters serve their slaves. But the French seriously continue this practice throughout the year and throughout their lives. They add circumstances that make it even more absurd and ridiculous. Your sport raises up for a few days those whom fortune has cast down. Fortune, in sport, may also raise them permanently above you. But this nation solemnly raises up those whom nature has placed beneath them. Their inferiority and weaknesses are completely beyond cure. 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.

Ah, why do women accept special attention and respect from strangers? I ask with affectionate concern. Why do they accept more than the mutual courtesy that humanity and civilized manners call for between people? And why, when they are “in the noon of beauty's power,” do they not see how they are deceived? They are treated like queens, but this hollow respect leads them to give up their natural rights, or never claim them. Then, confined in cages like birds, they have nothing to do but preen and strut from perch to perch with false majesty. They are indeed given food and clothing without having to work or spin for them. But in exchange, they give up health, freedom, and virtue. Yet where among humankind has anyone been found with the strength of mind to give up these privileges granted by circumstance? Where is the person who rises above public opinion with the calm dignity of reason and dares to take pride in the rights inherent in human beings? It is useless to expect such a person while hereditary power chokes human affection and stifles reason before it can grow.

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—

Men's passions have thus placed women on thrones. Until humanity becomes more reasonable, it is to be feared that women will use the power they gain most easily and that is most unquestionable. They will smile, yes, they will smile, though told that:

But the adoration comes first, and the scorn is not anticipated.

But admiration comes first, and no one expects the contempt that follows.

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.

Lewis XIV, in particular, spread artificial manners and cleverly ensnared the whole nation with a deceptive show of charm. He established a cunning system of despotism that made it in each person's interest to respect his position and support his power. He also flattered women by paying childish attention to the whole sex. During his reign, women gained a princely distinction that was 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.

A king is always a king, and a woman is always a woman. (One might add that a wit is always a wit. Clever people and beauties are equally foolish in their vain efforts to attract attention and win admirers.) A king's authority and a woman's sex always stand between them and rational conversation. With a lover, I admit, a woman should be conscious of her sex. Her feelings will naturally lead her to try to stir his emotions, not to gratify her vanity but her heart. I do not call this coquetry. It is a natural, unaffected impulse. I object only to the sexual desire to win admirers when the heart is not involved.

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.

This desire is not limited to women. Lord Chesterfield says, "I have tried to win the hearts of twenty women whose bodies I would not have given a fig for." A libertine who, in a burst of passion, takes advantage of unsuspecting affection is a saint compared with this cold-hearted rascal. I like to use words that say what I mean. Yet women are taught only to please, so they are always on the lookout for ways to please. With truly heroic enthusiasm, they try to win hearts, only to give them up or reject them once their victory is clear and visible to all.

I must descend to the minutiae of the subject.

I must turn to the small details 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.

I regret that women are systematically degraded by the trivial courtesies men think it manly to offer them. In fact, men are insultingly reinforcing their own superiority. Bowing to someone inferior is not an act of humility. These rituals seem so ridiculous to me that I can hardly keep from laughing. A man will leap up with eager and serious concern to pick up a handkerchief or close a door. Yet the LADY could have done it herself if she had moved a step 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.

A wild wish has just risen from my heart to my head. I will not suppress it, though it may provoke loud laughter. I earnestly wish to see sex distinctions disappear from society, except where love guides behavior. For I am firmly convinced that these distinctions are the foundation of the weakness of character attributed to women. They are why women's minds are neglected while their accomplishments are cultivated with great care. They also explain why women prefer graceful virtues to heroic ones.

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.

Everyone, whatever their position, wants to be loved and respected for SOMETHING. Most people will always take the quickest route to getting what they want. The respect given to wealth and beauty is the most certain and unmistakable. So wealth and beauty will always attract the crude attention of ordinary minds. Men of the middle class need ability and virtue to gain notice. The result is well known: the middle class has the most virtue and ability. Men in at least one position in life therefore have a chance to act with dignity. They can rise through efforts that truly improve a rational being. But all women, until their characters are formed, are in the same position as the rich. In civilized society, I mean, women are born with certain privileges because of their sex. As long as these privileges are freely granted, few women will think of doing more than is required to earn the esteem of a small number of exceptional 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.

When do we hear of women who rise from obscurity and boldly claim respect for their great abilities or daring virtues? Where are they to be found? "To be noticed, to receive attention, to be regarded with sympathy, pleasure, and approval, are all the advantages they seek." True! my male readers will probably exclaim. But before they draw any conclusion, let them remember that these words were not originally written about women, but about the rich. In Dr. Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments, I have found a general description of people of rank and fortune. In my opinion, it could quite properly be applied to women. I refer the perceptive reader to the whole comparison. But I must be allowed to quote a passage to support an argument I mean to press. I consider it the most conclusive argument against the idea of a character peculiar to each sex. For if no great men of any kind, except warriors, have ever appeared among the nobility, can we not fairly draw a conclusion? Perhaps their position confined them so completely that it swallowed up the individual and produced a character like that of women. Women are LOCALIZED, if I may use the word, by the rank that COURTESY assigns them. Women commonly called Ladies are not to be contradicted in company. They are not allowed to use any physical strength. And only passive virtues are expected of them, when any virtues are expected at all: patience, obedience, good humor, and flexibility. These virtues are incompatible with any vigorous exercise of the intellect. Besides, because women live more in one another's company and are seldom completely alone, feelings influence them more than passions do. Solitude and reflection are necessary to give wishes the force of passions. They also allow the imagination to enlarge the object of a wish and make it seem most desirable. The same may be said of the rich. They do not engage enough with general ideas, gathered through passionate thought or calm investigation. So they do not develop the strength of character on which great resolutions are built. But listen to what a perceptive 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."

Do the great seem unaware of how cheaply they can win public admiration? Or do they imagine that, like other men, they must earn it through sweat or blood? What important accomplishments is a young nobleman taught in order to uphold the dignity of his rank? What makes him worthy of the superiority over his fellow citizens that his ancestors’ virtue won for them? Is he taught knowledge, industry, patience, self-denial, or any kind of virtue? Because all his words and movements are noticed, he learns to pay constant attention to every detail of ordinary behavior. He studies how to perform all these small duties with perfect propriety. He knows how closely he is watched and how ready people are to favor all his wishes. So, even on the most ordinary occasions, he acts with the ease and dignity that this knowledge naturally inspires. His appearance, manner, and bearing all reveal a graceful and elegant sense of his own superiority. Those born to a lower station can hardly ever acquire such a manner. These are the arts by which he hopes to make people submit more readily to his authority. He uses them to direct their wishes according to his own pleasure. And he is seldom disappointed. Backed by rank and high standing, these arts are usually enough to govern the world. For most of his reign, Lewis XIV. was regarded as the perfect model of a great prince. He was admired not only in France but throughout Europe. But what talents and virtues earned him this great reputation? Was it the careful and unwavering justice of all his undertakings? Was it the immense dangers and difficulties that accompanied them? Or was it the tireless and relentless effort with which he pursued them? Was it his extensive knowledge, his excellent judgment, or his heroic courage? It was none of these qualities. First of all, he was the most powerful prince in Europe. He therefore held the highest rank among kings. And then, says his historian, 'he surpassed all his courtiers in the grace of his figure and the majestic beauty of his features. His noble and moving voice won the hearts of those whom his presence intimidated. His step and bearing suited only him and his rank. They would have been ridiculous in anyone else. He embarrassed those who spoke to him, and their embarrassment flattered his private satisfaction in his own superiority.' These trivial accomplishments won the prince the esteem of his own age. They have even earned his memory considerable respect from later generations. His rank supported these accomplishments, and no doubt he also had other talents and virtues. Yet these seem to have been little above average. In his own time and in his own presence, no other virtue seemed to have any merit beside these accomplishments. Knowledge, industry, courage, and generosity trembled, stood ashamed, and lost all dignity before them.

And all this is built on her loveliness!

And all this is based on her beauty!

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!

To continue the comparison, middle-class men prepare for professions when they are young. Marriage is not considered the main event of their lives. Women, by contrast, have no other goal to sharpen their abilities. Their attention is not absorbed by business, far-reaching plans, or ambitious dreams. No, their thoughts are not occupied with building such noble structures. To rise in the world and be free to move from one pleasure to another, they must marry well. They sacrifice their time to this goal, and their bodies are often legally prostituted. When a man enters a profession, he keeps his eye firmly on some future advantage. (The mind gains great strength by directing all its efforts toward one goal.) Absorbed in his work, he sees pleasure as mere relaxation. Women, on the other hand, seek pleasure as the main purpose of life. In fact, because of the education society gives them, love of pleasure may be said to govern them all. But does this prove that souls have a sex? It would be just as reasonable to declare that the courtiers in France were not men. A destructive system of despotism had shaped their characters, and they sacrificed liberty, virtue, and humanity to pleasure and vanity. These fatal passions have always ruled over the WHOLE human 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.

Their entire education encourages the same love of pleasure, which makes women behave frivolously in most situations. For example, they are always worried about minor things and looking for adventures instead of attending to their 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?

When a man sets out on a journey, he generally has his destination in mind. A woman thinks more about the incidental events and strange things that may happen along the way. She also thinks about the impression she may make on her fellow travelers. Above all, she anxiously looks after the fine clothes she carries with her. These are more than ever a part of her when she is going to appear in a new setting. To use an apt French expression, she is going to make a sensation. Can dignity of mind exist alongside such trivial concerns?

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!

In short, women in general, like wealthy people of both sexes, have acquired all the follies and vices of civilization. They have missed its useful fruits. I need not always state in advance that I am speaking of the condition of women as a whole, leaving exceptions aside. Their senses are overstimulated, while their understanding is neglected. As a result, they become prey to their senses, a condition delicately called sensibility. Every passing gust of feeling blows them about. They are therefore much worse off than they would be in a state closer to nature. Always restless and anxious, they have so overworked their sensibility that it makes them uncomfortable and, to put it gently, troublesome to others. All their thoughts turn to things designed to excite emotion. Because they feel when they should reason, their conduct is unstable and their opinions waver. Their opinions do not waver because of careful thought or advancing understanding, but because of conflicting emotions. They throw themselves warmly into many pursuits by fits and starts. Yet this warmth never becomes perseverance, and it soon exhausts itself. It evaporates in its own heat or meets another fleeting passion. Reason has never given either passion any particular weight, so the passions cancel each other out. How miserable a person must be whose mental cultivation has only served to inflame the passions! We should distinguish between inflaming the passions and strengthening them. When passions are pampered in this way, while judgment is left undeveloped, what can we expect? 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.

This observation should not apply only to women. However, for now, I mean to apply it only 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.

Novels, music, poetry, and flirtation all tend to make women creatures ruled by their feelings. Their character is formed as they acquire accomplishments, the only kind of improvement their place in society encourages them to pursue. This excessive sensitivity naturally weakens their other mental powers. It prevents the intellect from gaining the authority it needs to make a rational being useful to others and content with its own place. For as life goes on, exercising the understanding is the only way nature offers 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.

Being fed to excess has a very different effect. I have often been deeply struck by a vivid description of damnation. In it, the spirit hovers endlessly around the defiled body, eager but unable to enjoy anything without its senses. Yet women are made slaves to their senses because their sensitivity is how they gain power in the present.

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.

And will moralists really claim that half the human race should be encouraged to remain in this condition, passively inactive and blindly accepting? Kind instructors! What were we created for? To remain innocent, they may say. They mean to remain like children. We might as well never have been born, unless we had to be created so that man could gain the noble privilege of reason, the power to distinguish good from evil, while we lie down in the dust from which we came, 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;

It would be an endless task to trace all the petty behavior, worries, and sorrows into which women are plunged. These arise from the prevailing belief that women were created to feel rather than to reason. According to this belief, women must gain all their power through their charms and weakness.

"Fine by defect, and amiably weak!"

"Beautiful because of flaws, and charmingly 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?

This charming weakness makes women entirely dependent on men for both protection and advice, except for influence gained by improper means. Is it surprising, then, that they neglect the duties that reason alone reveals? Or that they shrink from challenges that could strengthen their minds? Instead, they work only to give their flaws a graceful appearance. This may make them more attractive to a man devoted to pleasure, though it lowers them on 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?

Fragile in every sense of the word, they must look to men for every comfort. At the slightest danger, they cling to their support like parasites, pitifully begging for help. Their NATURAL protector reaches out his arm or raises his voice to guard the lovely trembling woman. 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 creatures from contempt, though they are soft and beautiful?

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.

These fears may be very pretty when they are genuine. But they show a degree of weakness that degrades a rational being in a way women do not realize. For love and respect are very different 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.

I am convinced that we would hear nothing of these childish airs if girls were allowed enough exercise. Instead, they are confined to stuffy rooms until their muscles weaken and their digestion is ruined. To take this point further, fear in girls is encouraged and perhaps even created. If it were treated like cowardice in boys, we would soon see women with more dignified appearances. It is true that women could no longer be called the sweet flowers that smile along man's path with equal justice. But they would be more respectable members of society. They would carry out life's important duties guided by their own reason. "Educate women like men," says Rousseau, "and the more they resemble our sex, the less power they will have over us." That is exactly my aim. I do not want women 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!

I have heard men argue in the same way against educating the poor. Aristocracy takes many forms. "Teach them to read and write," they say, "and you take them out of the position nature assigned them." An eloquent Frenchman has answered them, and I will borrow his ideas. But when they reduce a person to a brute, they do not realize what may happen. They may expect at any moment to see that person turn 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.

Ignorance is a weak foundation for virtue! Yet the writers who have argued most passionately for man's superiority have insisted that women were made to be ignorant. They claim that men are superior not merely in degree, but in their very nature. Yet, to soften the argument, they have tried to prove, with chivalrous generosity, that the sexes should not be compared. They say that man was made to reason and woman to feel. Together, as flesh and spirit, they form the most perfect whole, happily blending reason and feeling 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!

And what is sensibility? "Quickness of sensation; quickness of perception; delicacy." That is Dr. Johnson’s definition. To me, it suggests nothing more than the most exquisitely refined instinct. I see no trace of the image of God in either sensation or matter. Refined seventy times seven, they are still material. Intellect does not reside in them, and fire will never turn lead into 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.

I return to my old argument: if a woman has an immortal soul, she must spend her life developing her understanding. Yet she is urged to forget her great purpose in pursuit of immediate pleasure, to make her present state more complete. This happens even though everything shows that her present state is only a fraction of a much greater whole. Nature is therefore being thwarted, unless she was born only to bear children and decay. Or suppose that animals of every kind have souls, though not rational ones. Exercising instinct and sensitivity may be the step they take in this life toward gaining reason in the next. They would then lag behind man for all eternity. For reasons we cannot explain, man was given the power to attain reason in his first form 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.

When I discuss women’s particular duties, just as I would discuss the duties of a citizen or father, I do not mean to suggest that most women should be taken away from their families. Lord Bacon says, "A man with a wife and children has given hostages to fortune. They stand in the way of great undertakings, whether for good or harm. Certainly, the best works, and those of greatest value to the public, have come from unmarried or childless men." I say the same of women. But society’s welfare does not depend on extraordinary efforts. If society were more reasonably organized, there would be even less need for great abilities or heroic virtues. Managing a family and educating children particularly require understanding in its simplest sense. They also require strength of body and mind. Yet the men who have worked hardest in their writings to confine women to the home have tried to weaken their bodies and restrict their minds. Their arguments have been dictated by a coarse appetite made fussy by overindulgence. But suppose these men really did PERSUADE women, even by such sinister methods, to stay home. Suppose they appealed to women’s feelings and persuaded them to fulfill their duties as mothers and managers of a household. I would then cautiously oppose opinions that led women to behave rightly. These opinions would persuade women to make the fulfillment of a duty their life’s work, even though the opinions insulted reason. Yet I appeal to experience. What if neglecting women’s understanding draws them away from these domestic duties as much as, or even more than, the most serious intellectual pursuit could? It may also be observed that most people will never vigorously pursue an intellectual goal. If neglecting women’s understanding has this effect, I may be allowed to conclude that reason is absolutely necessary for a woman to perform any duty properly. And I must repeat that sensitivity 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 comparison with the rich keeps coming to mind. When men neglect their duties to humanity, women do the same. Both are swept along by the same current with thoughtless speed. Wealth and honors keep a man from developing his understanding and weaken all his powers. They reverse the order of nature, which has always made true pleasure the reward for work. Pleasure, weakening pleasure, is also available to women without their having to earn it. But how can we expect men to take pride in virtue until inherited wealth is more widely shared? Until then, women will control men by the most direct means. They will neglect their dull domestic duties to seize pleasure before time carries it away.

"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.

"The power of women," says some author, "is their capacity for feeling." Men, unaware of the consequences, do all they can to let this power swallow up every other. Those who constantly use their capacity for feeling will have the most of it, for example, poets, painters, and composers. Yet when feeling is heightened at the expense of reason and even imagination, why do philosophical men complain that such people are fickle? Men’s sexual attention particularly affects women’s feelings, and women have been trained to respond to it since their youth. A husband cannot long give his wife the passionate attention needed to stir lively emotions. A heart accustomed to such emotions then turns to a new lover or pines in secret, held back by virtue or prudence. I mean this when the heart has truly been made susceptible and a taste for such emotions has been formed. From what I have seen in fashionable life, though, I am inclined to think that the education and relations between the sexes I have condemned more often foster vanity than feeling. I also think that coquetry more often comes from vanity than from the fickleness that naturally follows from excessive feeling.

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.

Another argument has weighed heavily with me. I think it must carry some weight with every thoughtful, kindhearted person. Girls who have received this weak education are often cruelly left without any financial support by their parents. As a result, they depend not only on their brothers’ good judgment but also on their generosity. To put the matter in the best light, these brothers are decent men. They give as a favor what children of the same parents had an equal right to receive. In this uncertain and humiliating position, a submissive woman may live with a reasonable degree of comfort for some time. But her brother will probably marry. When he does, she is no longer considered the woman in charge of the household. Instead, she is met with cold looks and treated as an intruder. She is seen as an unnecessary burden on the generosity of the master of the house and his new wife.

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.

Who can describe the misery suffered by many unfortunate people in such situations? They are weak in both mind and body, unable to work and ashamed to beg. The wife is cold-hearted and narrow-minded. This is not an unfair assumption, for the current system of education does no more to expand the heart than the mind. She resents the little kindness her husband shows his relatives. Her sympathy does not extend to a sense of common humanity, so she is displeased to see HER children’s property lavished on a 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 are facts I have witnessed again and again. The result is obvious. The wife resorts to cunning to undermine the long-standing affection she is afraid to oppose openly. She uses every tear and caress until she drives the spy from her home and into the world, unprepared for its difficulties. Or, as a great act of generosity or out of some concern for propriety, she sends the spy into joyless solitude, with a small allowance and an uneducated mind.

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.

These two women may be much alike in reason and humanity. If their situations had been reversed, they might have acted just as selfishly. But if they had been educated differently, the situation would also have been very different. The wife would not have had feelings centered on herself. Reason might have taught her not to expect or even feel flattered by her husband’s affection if it led him to neglect earlier duties. She would want to love him for his virtues, not merely because he loved her. And the sister might have been able to provide for herself instead of enduring the bitterness 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.

I am convinced that education opens the heart as well as the mind. It also strengthens the organs, though that may be less obvious. I am speaking not of passing flashes of emotion, but of lasting affections. Perhaps the hardest task in educating both sexes is to balance instruction carefully. It must not narrow the mind while the heart is warmed by the generous juices of spring, newly stirred by the season’s electric fermentation. Nor must it dry up the feelings by occupying the mind with inquiries 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.

When women receive a careful education, they are made into either fine ladies or merely capable household managers. The fine ladies are full of sentiment and fanciful whims. The household managers are often friendly, honest people, with shrewd common sense and worldly prudence. These qualities often make them more useful members of society than the fine sentimental lady, though they lack greatness of mind and taste. The intellectual world is closed to them. Take them outside their family or neighborhood, and they are at a loss. Their minds have nothing to occupy them. Literature offers a wealth of amusement, but they have never tried to enjoy it and often despise it instead. The feelings and tastes of more cultivated minds seem ridiculous to them, even in people whom chance and family connections have led them to love. But in mere acquaintances, they consider it all an 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.

A sensible man can love such a woman only because she is a woman, and respect her because she is a reliable servant. To keep the peace, he lets her scold the servants and go to church wearing clothes made of the finest materials. A man with an understanding equal to hers would probably not get along with her so well. He might want to intrude on her authority and manage some household affairs himself. Yet women whose minds have not been broadened by education are very unfit to manage a household. So are women whose naturally selfish feelings have not been broadened by reflection. They always abuse their power, behaving like tyrants to uphold a superiority based only on the arbitrary distinction of wealth. Sometimes the harm is more serious. Servants are denied innocent pleasures and made to work beyond their strength. This allows the capable housewife to serve finer meals and outshine her neighbors with showy clothes and displays. If she pays attention to her children, it is generally to dress them expensively. Whether this attention comes from vanity or affection, it is equally harmful.

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.

Besides, how many women of this kind spend their days, or at least their evenings, discontented? Their husbands admit that they manage the household well and are faithful wives. But the husbands leave home to seek more agreeable company, or, if I may use a suggestive French word, more piquant company. Meanwhile, the patient drudge does her work like a blind horse in a mill, yet is cheated of her rightful reward. The reward she is owed is her husband’s affection. And women who have so few resources within themselves do not bear the loss of this natural right very patiently.

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.

A fashionable lady, on the other hand, has been taught to look down on the ordinary work of life. Yet she has only been encouraged to acquire accomplishments that are a step above common sense. Even physical skills cannot be mastered with any precision unless the mind has been strengthened through exercise. Without a foundation of principles, taste is superficial, and grace must come from something deeper than imitation. Her imagination, however, is excited, and her feelings become overly particular, if not artificial. Or, if her heart remains innocent but becomes too tender, she does not acquire the judgment to balance it.

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?

These women are often pleasant. Their hearts are genuinely more responsive to kindness toward others than those of the hardworking, narrow-minded woman devoted to her family. They are also more sensitive to the feelings that make life civilized. But they lack enough thoughtfulness and self-control, so they inspire only love. They remain their husbands’ mistresses as long as they hold their affection. They are also the platonic friends of their husbands’ male acquaintances. These women are nature’s beautiful defects. They seem to have been created not to enjoy companionship with men, but to save men from becoming utterly brutal. They do this by smoothing the rough edges of men’s characters. Through playful flirtation, they also lend some dignity to the desire that draws men to them. Gracious Creator of the whole human race! Have you created woman for no better purpose? She can see your wisdom in your works and feel that you alone are, by nature, above her. Can she believe that she was made only to submit to man, her equal? Like her, he was sent into the world to acquire virtue. Can she agree to spend her life merely pleasing him and adorning the earth, when her soul can rise to you? And can she passively depend on man for reason, when she ought to climb the difficult heights of knowledge with him?

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.

Yet if love is the highest good, let women be educated only to inspire love. Let their every charm be refined to overwhelm the senses. But if women are moral beings, let them have a chance to become intelligent. And let love for a man be only part of a glowing flame of universal love. Let that flame embrace humanity and rise to God like incense in gratitude.

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.

Fulfilling domestic duties requires great resolve and serious perseverance. These need firmer support than emotions, however lively and true to nature those emotions may be. To set an example of order, the soul of virtue, one must adopt a somewhat disciplined manner. But this can hardly be expected of someone who has been ruled by changing feelings since infancy. Anyone who intends to be useful must have a rational plan for how to act. Even in carrying out the simplest duty, we often must act against an immediate impulse of tenderness or compassion. Strictness is often the surest, as well as the noblest, proof of affection. Many loving mothers spoil their children because they lack control over their feelings. They also lack the noble, dignified affection that puts a loved one’s future good before immediate pleasure. This has made it questionable whether neglect or indulgence is more harmful. But I am inclined to think that indulgence has done more 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.

People seem to agree that women should be responsible for children throughout childhood. Now, from all I have observed, women of strong feeling are the least suited to this task. Carried away by their feelings, they will inevitably spoil a child's temperament. Shaping a child's temperament is the first and most important part of education. It requires the calm, steady attention of reason and a plan of conduct that avoids both tyranny and indulgence. Yet people of strong feeling alternate between these extremes, always going too far. I have followed this line of reasoning much further. I have concluded that a person of genius is the least suitable person to work in education, whether public or private. Minds of this rare kind see things too much as a whole. They also seldom, if ever, have a good temper. The habitual cheerfulness called good humor is perhaps as rarely found alongside great mental powers as alongside strong feelings. Some people follow the flights of genius with interest and admiration. Others, with cooler approval, absorb the instruction a profound thinker has carefully prepared for them. These people should not be disgusted if they find the genius hot-tempered and the thinker gloomy. A lively imagination and a mind that holds firmly to its ideas are hardly compatible with flexible courtesy. Such courtesy leads a person to bend, at least, to the opinions and prejudices of others rather than confronting them harshly.

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.

But when discussing education or behavior, we need not consider people of exceptional ability. They may be left to chance. It is the majority, those of moderate ability, who need instruction. They take on the character of the atmosphere around them. I argue that the feelings of this respectable group, both men and women, should not be intensified by luxurious idleness at the expense of their understanding. Without understanding to steady them, they will never become virtuous or free. An aristocracy based on property or genuine talent will always sweep aside these slaves of feeling, who are timid one moment and fierce the next.

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.

To look at the subject another way, men have used countless arguments to degrade women morally and physically. These arguments appear reasonable because they are supposedly drawn from nature. I must consider a few of them.

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.

People have often spoken contemptuously of women's minds, saying they mature earlier than men's. I will not answer this argument by pointing to the early signs of reason and genius in Cowley, Milton, and Pope. (Many other names could be added.) Instead, I appeal to experience. Do young men who enter adult society early not become just as precocious? Examples of such young men now abound. This fact is so well known that merely mentioning it must remind anyone who mixes in society of many swaggering apes of men. Their minds have been narrowed by entering men's society when they should have been spinning tops or rolling hoops.

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.

Some naturalists have also claimed that men do not reach their full growth and strength until thirty. They claim that women, however, reach maturity by twenty. I believe their reasoning rests on a false assumption, shaped by male prejudice. This prejudice regards beauty as the perfection of woman. By beauty, it means merely beauty of features and complexion, as the world commonly understands it. Male beauty, however, is allowed some connection with the mind. Women, no more than men, acquire bodily strength and that distinctive expression the French call a physionomie before thirty. Children’s innocent little ways are, it is true, especially pleasing and attractive. Yet once the pretty freshness of youth has faded, these innocent graces become affected manners. They disgust everyone of taste. In girls’ faces, we look only for liveliness and shy modesty. But once the springtime of life is over, we look for signs of more serious understanding. We look for traces of passion instead of the dimples of youthful high spirits. We expect to see individuality of character, the only lasting bond of affection. Then we wish to converse, not to fondle. We wish to give our imaginations room to play, as well as to feel the emotions 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 coquettes 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.

At twenty, men and women are equally beautiful. But men’s sexual license leads them to make a distinction. Aging coquettes usually agree. When they can no longer inspire love, they pay for the vigor and liveliness of youth. The French give the mind a greater place in their ideas of beauty, and prefer women of thirty. I mean that the French consider women to be at their most perfect at thirty. By then, liveliness gives way to reason and the majestic seriousness of character that marks maturity, or the resting point. In youth, the body grows until twenty. Until thirty, its solid tissues become denser. The flexible muscles grow more rigid each day, giving character to the face. They trace the workings of the mind with fate’s iron pen. They tell us not only what powers lie within, but also how those powers have been used.

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.

It is worth noting that animals that mature slowly live the longest and belong to the noblest species. However, men cannot claim any natural superiority from the distinction of living longer. Nature has not given males any advantage in longevity.

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.

Polygamy is another form of physical degradation. A plausible argument for this custom, which destroys every domestic virtue, comes from a well-established fact. In countries where polygamy is practiced, more females are born than males. This seems to be a sign from nature, and apparently reasonable theories must give way to nature. Another conclusion obviously follows: if polygamy is 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."

We know very little about how a fetus develops in the womb. But it seems likely to me that an accidental physical cause may explain this phenomenon. It may also prove that the phenomenon is not a law of nature. I have found some relevant observations in Forster's Account of the Isles of the South Sea that explain what I mean. Forster observes that, among animals, the more vigorous and passionate of the two sexes always prevails and produces offspring of its own sex. He adds: "If we apply this to the inhabitants of Africa, it is clear that the men there practice polygamy. Their relations with so many women weaken them and make them less vigorous. The women, by contrast, are more passionate. This is partly because their nerves are more easily stimulated, their bodies more sensitive, and their imaginations more lively. It is also because, in marriage, they are denied the share of physical love that would all be theirs in a monogamous marriage. For these reasons, most children are born female."

"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 most accurate mortality records show that, in most of Europe, the numbers of men and women are nearly equal. If there is any difference, more boys are born than girls, at a ratio 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.

There seems to be no need for polygamy. Yet when a man seduces a woman, I think it should be called a LEFT-HANDED marriage. The man should be LEGALLY required to support the woman and her children, unless adultery, a natural divorce, cancels that obligation. This law should remain in force as long as women are weak enough to use seduction as an excuse for their weakness and lack of principle. Indeed, it should remain in force as long as women depend on men for a living, rather than earning one through their own physical or mental work. But these women should not be called wives in the full sense of the relationship. Otherwise, the very purpose of marriage would be undermined. Even when neither love nor friendship unites a couple’s hearts, personal fidelity brings forth loving kindnesses that make their bond sacred. All these kindnesses would give way to selfishness. A woman who is faithful to the father of her children deserves respect and should not be treated like a prostitute. Yet I readily admit that, if a man and woman must live together to raise their children, nature never intended a man to 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!

Still, though I deeply respect marriage as the foundation of almost every social virtue, I feel the deepest compassion for unfortunate women who are cut off from society. A single mistake tears them away from all the affections and relationships that improve the heart and mind. Often, their mistake does not even deserve to be called one. Many innocent girls are deceived because their hearts are sincere and loving. Even more are, as one might rightly say, RUINED before they know the difference between virtue and vice. Their education thus prepares them for disgrace, and they become disgraced. Asylums and Magdalens are not the right remedies for these abuses. What the world needs is justice, not charity!

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.

A woman who has lost her honor imagines she cannot fall any lower. She cannot regain her former position. No effort can wash away the stain. Having lost every incentive to improve and having no other way to support herself, she turns to prostitution as her only refuge. Her character is quickly corrupted by circumstances the poor wretch has little power to control. Only a woman with exceptional good sense and strength of spirit can resist them. Necessity never makes prostitution a man’s lifelong occupation, though countless women are driven into a life of habitual vice. This happens largely because women are educated to be idle. They are always taught to depend on men for support and to offer their bodies in return. The need for support gives women a stronger incentive to adopt seductive airs and master the arts of sexual attraction than either desire or vanity. This observation strengthens the common belief that when a woman loses her chastity, she loses all that makes her respectable. Her character depends on the observance of this one virtue, though love is the only passion encouraged in her heart. Indeed, a woman’s honor is not even made to depend on her own 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."

When Richardson has Clarissa tell Lovelace that he robbed her of her honor, he must have had strange ideas about honor and virtue. For the condition of a person who could be degraded without their own consent is more miserable than words can express! I have heard people defend this excessive strictness as a beneficial error. I will answer in Leibnitz's words: "Errors are often useful, but usually only 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 state 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.

Most of the evils in life arise from a desire for immediate pleasure that goes too far. The obedience expected of women in marriage is one example. Depending on authority naturally weakens the mind, so it never exercises its own powers. As a result, the obedient wife becomes a weak, lazy mother. But even if this is not always the result, a future life is hardly considered when only passive virtues are cultivated. In writing about morals, especially when women are concerned, writers have too often understood virtue in a very limited way. They have based it SOLELY on its usefulness in this world. Indeed, they have given this immense structure an even weaker foundation. They have made men’s unpredictable and changing feelings the standard of virtue. Yes, virtue, like religion, has been left to the judgment 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.

Men are eager to degrade the sex from whom they claim to receive life’s greatest pleasure. The sight would almost provoke a contemptuous smile, if men’s vain absurdities did not confront us on every side. I have often turned Pope’s sarcasm back on men, fully convinced that it applies to them. To be explicit, it has seemed to me to apply to the whole human race. The love of pleasure or power seems to divide humanity. The husband who rules over his little harem thinks only of his own pleasure or convenience. Some prudent men, or worn-out libertines, marry to have a reliable companion. Yet their excessive love of pleasure leads them so far that they seduce their own wives. Marriage banishes modesty, and chaste love takes 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.

Love, understood as physical desire, cannot sustain itself for long without dying out. This extinction in its own flame may be called the violent death of love. But a wife who has been made sexually uninhibited in this way will probably try to fill the void left by her husband’s lost attentions. After being treated like a goddess, she cannot be content to become merely a head servant. She is still beautiful, and instead of turning her affection to her children, she dreams only of enjoying life’s sunshine. Besides, many husbands lack both sense and parental affection. In the first rush of passionate desire, they refuse to let their wives breastfeed their children. The wives are expected only to dress and live to please their husbands. Even innocent love soon sinks into lust when 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.

Personal affection is a very good foundation for friendship. Yet even when two virtuous young people marry, perhaps it would be better if some circumstance restrained their passion. For example, a memory of an earlier attachment or disappointed love might make at least one partner base the marriage more on respect. In that case, they would look beyond the present moment and try to make their whole life respectable. They would do this by making a plan to guide a friendship that only death should end.

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.

Friendship is a serious affection, the most elevated of all affections. It is based on principle and strengthened by time. The opposite may be said of love. To a great extent, love and friendship cannot exist in the same heart. Even when directed at different people, they weaken or destroy each other. When directed at the same person, they can only be felt one after the other. Groundless fears and tender jealousy fan the flame of love when handled wisely or skillfully. But both are incompatible with the tender trust 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.

Love, as brilliantly described by writers of genius, does not exist on earth. Or, if it does, it exists only in the exalted, passionate imaginations that have painted such dangerous pictures. These pictures are dangerous because they offer a plausible excuse to the pleasure seeker who hides sheer sensuality behind a veil of sentiment. They also spread affectation and diminish the dignity of virtue. Virtue, as the word itself suggests, should appear serious, if not austere. Some have used the word virtue as another name for beauty. But to dress virtue in the clothing of pleasure for that reason is to raise her up on quicksand. It is a deeply deceptive attempt to hasten her fall while appearing to honor her. In fact, virtue and pleasure are not as closely connected in this life as some eloquent writers have tried to prove. Pleasure prepares a wreath that will fade and mixes an intoxicating drink. But the fruit virtue gives is the reward of hard work. We watch the fruit ripen gradually, and it brings only calm satisfaction. Indeed, because it seems to result from the natural course of things, it is hardly noticed. Bread, the ordinary food of life, is seldom thought of as a blessing. Yet it sustains the body and preserves health. Feasts, however, delight the human heart, though disease and even death lurk in the drink or delicacy that lifts the spirits or delights the palate. A lively, passionate imagination paints love in the same way it paints everything else, in glowing colors. A daring hand will steal those colors from the rainbow when guided by such a mind. In a world like this, that mind is condemned to prove its noble origin by longing for unattainable perfection. It forever pursues what it admits is a fleeting dream. An imagination of such power can give existence to forms without substance. It can give permanence to the shadowy daydreams the mind naturally falls into when reality seems dull. Such an imagination can picture love with heavenly charms and adore the grand ideal it has created. It can imagine mutual affection so deep that it refines the soul. This affection would not fade after serving as a "scale to heavenly." Like devotion, it would absorb every lesser affection and desire. In each other's arms, lovers would shut out the world, as if they were in a temple whose summit disappeared into the clouds. They would also shut out every thought and wish that did not nurture pure affection and lasting virtue. Lasting virtue! Alas, Rousseau, respected dreamer! Your paradise would soon be violated by the arrival of some unexpected guest. Like Milton's paradise, it would contain only angels, or people who had sunk below the dignity of rational beings. Happiness is not material. It cannot be seen or felt! Yet each person eagerly pursues the good as they imagine it. This pursuit proclaims that humanity is the master of this lower world and is endowed with intelligence. It shows that human beings must acquire happiness, not simply receive it. Those who complain about the illusions of passion therefore forget what they are protesting against. It is strong proof that the soul is immortal.

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.

But I will leave exceptional minds to correct themselves and pay dearly for their experience. I want to strengthen women’s understanding, not to guard their hearts against strong, lasting passions, but against romantic, wavering feelings. For these dreams of paradise more often come from idleness than from a lively imagination.

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.

Women rarely have enough serious work to quiet their feelings. A routine of small worries or pointless pursuits wastes all their mental and physical strength. As a result, they naturally become little more than objects of sensual attraction. In short, the whole course of women’s education, including what society teaches them, tends to make even the best-natured women romantic and changeable. It makes the rest vain and petty. In society as it now stands, I fear this problem can hardly be remedied, even slightly. If a more worthy ambition ever takes hold, women may be brought closer to nature and reason. As they become more respectable, they may also become more virtuous and useful.

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.

But I dare to say that their reason will never grow strong enough to guide their conduct as long as most people care first about making an impression on the world. This weak desire leads them to sacrifice natural affection and the most useful virtues. Girls marry merely to BETTER THEMSELVES, to borrow a telling common phrase. They have such perfect control over their hearts that they do not allow themselves to FALL IN LOVE until a man with a greater fortune proposes. I intend to discuss this subject more fully in a later chapter. For now, I need only mention it, because women are so often degraded by letting the selfish caution of age cool the passion 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.

The same source gives rise to the belief that young girls should spend much of their time sewing. Yet sewing limits their abilities more than any other occupation that could have been chosen for them. It confines their thoughts to their own appearance. Men order their clothes and give the matter no further thought. Women make their own clothes, both necessary and decorative, and talk about them constantly. Their thoughts follow their hands. It is not making necessities that weakens the mind, but fussing over clothes. When a working-class woman makes clothes for her husband and children, she is doing her duty. This is part of her work. But when women sew only to dress better than they could otherwise afford, it is worse than a complete waste of time. To make the poor virtuous, they must have work. Middle-class women could employ them if they did not imitate the fashions of the nobility without sharing their leisure. They could then manage their households, teach their children, and exercise their own minds. Gardening, experimental philosophy, and literature would give them things to think and talk about. These subjects would exercise their understanding to some degree. French women are not so rigidly tied to their chairs, twisting lace flaps and knotting ribbons. Their conversation is often superficial, but I argue that it is not half as dull as that of English women who spend their time making caps, bonnets, and all those troublesome trimmings. That is not to mention shopping, bargain hunting, and so on. Decent, prudent women are the most degraded by these practices, for their only motive is vanity. A woman of loose morals who uses her taste to make herself alluring has something more in mind.

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.

All these observations come from a general point I have made before, and cannot stress too often. Whether we are speaking of men, women, or professions, what occupies people’s thoughts shapes their character, both generally and individually. Women’s thoughts are always focused on their appearance. Is it surprising that their appearance is considered their most valuable quality? Yet some freedom of mind is necessary even to develop one’s appearance. This may be one reason why some gentle wives have so few attractions besides their sex. Moreover, sedentary activities make most women sickly. False ideas of female excellence make them proud of this frailty. Yet frailty is another fetter. By constantly drawing attention to the body, it restricts 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'.)

Women of high social standing seldom do any of the manual work involved in dressing themselves. As a result, only their taste is exercised. Once they have finished dressing, they give less thought to their finery and acquire an ease of manner. This ease is rarely seen in women who dress merely for the sake of dressing. In fact, the observation that talents thrive best in the middle class does not apply to women. Women of the upper class pick up at least a little literary knowledge and discuss general topics more often with men. As a result, they acquire more knowledge than women who imitate their fashions and faults without sharing their advantages. As for virtue, in the broadest sense of the word, I have seen the most among the poor. Many poor women support their children through their own hard work. They also hold families together that the fathers’ vices would have scattered. But gentlewomen are too idle to practice virtue actively. Civilization has made them soft rather than refined. Among poor women with few educational advantages, I have encountered good sense, and they have acted heroically. This strongly confirmed my opinion that trivial occupations have made women trivial. Men take women’s bodies, leaving their minds to rust. As Ranger says, 'I take her body.' So long as physical love remains man’s favorite recreation and weakens him, he will try to enslave woman. And who can say how many generations may be needed before the descendants of abject slaves, once freed, develop strength of virtue and talent? ('Supposing that women are voluntary slaves, slavery of any kind is harmful 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.

In tracing what I believe has degraded women, I have limited my observations to causes that affect the morals and manners of all women. It seems clear to me that all these causes spring from a lack of understanding. Whether this lack arises from a physical weakness of the faculties or from circumstances, only time can tell. I will not place much weight on the example of a few women who gained courage and determination from a masculine education. (Sappho, Eloisa, Mrs. Macaulay, the Empress of Russia, Madame d'Eon, etc. These women, and many more, may be considered 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.) I only contend that men placed in similar situations have acquired a similar character. I speak of groups of men. I also contend that men of genius and talent have emerged from a class in which women have never yet been placed.