How Sexual Ideas About Reputation Undermine Morality

It has long since occurred to me, that advice respecting behaviour, and all the various modes of preserving a good reputation, which have been so strenuously inculcated on the female world, were specious poisons, that incrusting morality eat away the substance. And, that this measuring of shadows produced a false calculation, because their length depends so much on the height of the sun, and other adventitious circumstances.

It occurred to me long ago that advice about behavior and all the various ways of preserving a good reputation were deceptive poisons. These lessons have been so insistently pressed on women, yet they coat morality while eating away its substance. I also realized that measuring shadows leads to false calculations. Their length depends so much on the sun’s height and other chance circumstances.

From whence arises the easy fallacious behaviour of a courtier? From this situation, undoubtedly: for standing in need of dependents, he is obliged to learn the art of denying without giving offence, and, of evasively feeding hope with the chameleon's food; thus does politeness sport with truth, and eating away the sincerity and humanity natural to man, produce the fine gentleman.

What makes a courtier so effortlessly deceitful? His situation, without a doubt. Because he needs dependents, he must learn to refuse them without giving offense. He must also learn to keep their hopes alive with evasions, feeding them on air like a chameleon. In this way, politeness plays with truth and eats away at the sincerity and humanity natural to people, producing the polished gentleman.

Women in the same way acquire, from a supposed necessity, an equally artificial mode of behaviour. Yet truth is not with impunity to be sported with, for the practised dissembler, at last, becomes the dupe of his own arts, loses that sagacity which has been justly termed common sense; namely, a quick perception of common truths: which are constantly received as such by the unsophisticated mind, though it might not have had sufficient energy to discover them itself, when obscured by local prejudices. The greater number of people take their opinions on trust, to avoid the trouble of exercising their own minds, and these indolent beings naturally adhere to the letter, rather than the spirit of a law, divine or human. "Women," says some author, I cannot recollect who, "mind not what only heaven sees." Why, indeed should they? it is the eye of man that they have been taught to dread—and if they can lull their Argus to sleep, they seldom think of heaven or themselves, because their reputation is safe; and it is reputation not chastity and all its fair train, that they are employed to keep free from spot, not as a virtue, but to preserve their station in the world.

Women likewise adopt an equally artificial way of behaving because they believe they must. Yet people cannot toy with truth without consequences. Someone who practices deception eventually falls for their own tricks. They lose the insight rightly called common sense: a quick understanding of common truths. An unspoiled mind readily recognizes these truths, even if it lacked the energy to discover them through local prejudices. Most people accept opinions on trust to avoid the trouble of thinking for themselves. These lazy people naturally follow the letter rather than the spirit of a law, whether divine or human. "Women," says some author, though I cannot remember who, "pay no attention to what only heaven sees." Why, indeed, should they? They have been taught to fear the eyes of men. If they can lull their Argus to sleep, they seldom think of heaven or themselves, because their reputation is safe. They are concerned with keeping their reputation spotless, not their chastity and all the virtues that accompany it. They do this not for virtue’s sake, but to preserve their place in the world.

To prove the truth of this remark, I need only advert to the intrigues of married women, particularly in high life, and in countries where women are suitably married, according to their respective ranks by their parents. If an innocent girl become a prey to love, she is degraded forever, though her mind was not polluted by the arts which married women, under the convenient cloak of marriage, practise; nor has she violated any duty—but the duty of respecting herself. The married woman, on the contrary, breaks a most sacred engagement, and becomes a cruel mother when she is a false and faithless wife. If her husband has still an affection for her, the arts which she must practise to deceive him, will render her the most contemptible of human beings; and at any rate, the contrivances necessary to preserve appearances, will keep her mind in that childish or vicious tumult which destroys all its energy. Besides, in time, like those people who habitually take cordials to raise their spirits, she will want an intrigue to give life to her thoughts, having lost all relish for pleasures that are not highly seasoned by hope or fear.

To prove this point, I need only point to the affairs of married women, especially in high society. I mean particularly in countries where parents arrange marriages for their daughters according to their social rank. If an innocent girl falls prey to love, she is disgraced forever. Yet her mind has not been corrupted by the tricks married women use under the convenient cover of marriage. Nor has she violated any duty, except her duty to respect herself. A married woman, by contrast, breaks a most sacred promise. When she is an unfaithful wife, she also becomes a cruel mother. If her husband still loves her, the tricks she must use to deceive him will make her the most contemptible of human beings. In any case, the schemes needed to keep up appearances will keep her mind in a childish or vicious turmoil. This turmoil destroys all its energy. Besides, in time, she will need an affair to give life to her thoughts. She will be like those who habitually take stimulants to lift their spirits. She will have lost all taste for pleasures that are not strongly spiced with hope or fear.

Sometimes married women act still more audaciously; I will mention an instance.

Sometimes married women act even more boldly. I will give an example.

A woman of quality, notorious for her gallantries, though as she still lived with her husband, nobody chose to place her in the class where she ought to have been placed, made a point of treating with the most insulting contempt a poor timid creature, abashed by a sense of her former weakness, whom a neighbouring gentleman had seduced and afterwards married. This woman had actually confounded virtue with reputation; and, I do believe, valued herself on the propriety of her behaviour before marriage, though when once settled, to the satisfaction of her family, she and her lord were equally faithless—so that the half alive heir to an immense estate came from heaven knows where!

A high-born woman was notorious for her affairs. Yet, because she still lived with her husband, nobody chose to place her in the class where she belonged. She made a point of treating a poor, timid woman with deeply insulting contempt. A local gentleman had seduced the timid woman and then married her. She was ashamed of her earlier weakness. The high-born woman had confused virtue with reputation. I do believe she prided herself on her proper behavior before marriage. Yet once she was settled in marriage, to her family's satisfaction, she and her husband were equally unfaithful. So the half-alive heir to an immense estate came from heaven knows where!

To view this subject in another light.

To look at this subject from another angle.

I have known a number of women who, if they did not love their husbands, loved nobody else, giving themselves entirely up to vanity and dissipation, neglecting every domestic duty; nay, even squandering away all the money which should have been saved for their helpless younger children, yet have plumed themselves on their unsullied reputation, as if the whole compass of their duty as wives and mothers was only to preserve it. Whilst other indolent women, neglecting every personal duty, have thought that they deserved their husband's affection, because they acted in this respect with propriety.

I have known a number of women who, if they did not love their husbands, loved no one else. They gave themselves entirely to vanity and pleasure, neglecting every household duty. They even wasted all the money that should have been saved for their helpless younger children. Yet they prided themselves on their spotless reputations. They acted as if their entire duty as wives and mothers was simply to protect those reputations. Meanwhile, other lazy women neglected every personal duty. Yet they thought they deserved their husbands’ affection because they behaved properly in this respect.

Weak minds are always fond of resting in the ceremonials of duty, but morality offers much simpler motives; and it were to be wished that superficial moralists had said less respecting behaviour, and outward observances, for unless virtue, of any kind, is built on knowledge, it will only produce a kind of insipid decency. Respect for the opinion of the world, has, however, been termed the principal duty of woman in the most express words, for Rousseau declares, "that reputation is no less indispensable than chastity." "A man," adds he, "secure in his own good conduct, depends only on himself, and may brave the public opinion; but a woman, in behaving well, performs but half her duty; as what is thought of her, is as important to her as what she really is. It follows hence, that the system of a woman's education should, in this respect, be directly contrary to that of ours. Opinion is the grave of virtue among the men; but its throne among women." It is strictly logical to infer, that the virtue that rests on opinion is merely worldly, and that it is the virtue of a being to whom reason has been denied. But, even with respect to the opinion of the world, I am convinced, that this class of reasoners are mistaken.

Weak minds always like to dwell on the outward forms of duty, but morality offers much simpler motives. It is a pity that superficial moralists have said so much about behavior and outward observances. Unless virtue of any kind is built on knowledge, it will produce only a bland kind of decency. Yet respect for the world’s opinion has been called a woman’s principal duty in the clearest terms. Rousseau declares, "Reputation is no less essential than chastity." He adds, "A man who knows his own conduct is good depends only on himself and can defy public opinion. But a woman who behaves well fulfills only half her duty. What people think of her is as important to her as what she really is. It follows that a woman’s education should be directly opposed to ours in this respect. Opinion is the grave of virtue among men, but its throne among women." It follows logically that virtue based on opinion is merely worldly. It is the virtue of a being denied the use of reason. But even as to the world’s opinion, I am convinced that reasoners of this kind are mistaken.

This regard for reputation, independent of its being one of the natural rewards of virtue, however, took its rise from a cause that I have already deplored as the grand source of female depravity, the impossibility of regaining respectability by a return to virtue, though men preserve theirs during the indulgence of vice. It was natural for women then to endeavour to preserve what once lost—was lost for ever, till this care swallowing up every other care, reputation for chastity, became the one thing needful to the sex. But vain is the scrupulosity of ignorance, for neither religion nor virtue, when they reside in the heart, require such a puerile attention to mere ceremonies, because the behaviour must, upon the whole be proper, when the motive is pure.

A good reputation is naturally one of the rewards of virtue. But this concern for reputation also arose from a cause I have already lamented as the chief source of female corruption. Women could not regain respectability by returning to virtue, though men kept their respectability while indulging in vice. It was natural, then, for women to try to preserve what, once lost, was lost forever. This concern eventually swallowed up every other concern, and a reputation for chastity became the one thing women needed. But the scruples of ignorance are pointless. When religion and virtue reside in the heart, neither requires such childish attention to mere formalities. When a person's motives are pure, their behavior must, on the whole, be proper.

To support my opinion I can produce very respectable authority; and the authority of a cool reasoner ought to have weight to enforce consideration, though not to establish a sentiment. Speaking of the general laws of morality, Dr. Smith observes—"That by some very extraordinary and unlucky circumstance, a good man may come to be suspected of a crime of which he was altogether incapable, and upon that account be most unjustly exposed for the remaining part of his life to the horror and aversion of mankind. By an accident of this kind he may be said to lose his all, notwithstanding his integrity and justice, in the same manner as a cautious man, notwithstanding his utmost circumspection, may be ruined by an earthquake or an inundation. Accidents of the first kind, however, are perhaps still more rare, and still more contrary to the common course of things than those of the second; and it still remains true, that the practice of truth, justice and humanity, is a certain and almost infallible method of acquiring what those virtues chiefly aim at, the confidence and love of those we live with. A person may be easily misrepresented with regard to a particular action; but it is scarcely possible that he should be so with regard to the general tenor of his conduct. An innocent man may be believed to have done wrong: this, however, will rarely happen. On the contrary, the established opinion of the innocence of his manners will often lead us to absolve him where he has really been in the fault, notwithstanding very strong presumptions."

I can support my opinion with a highly respected authority. The words of a calm, rational thinker should encourage us to consider an idea, though they should not establish a belief. Speaking of the general laws of morality, Dr. Smith observes: “Through some very extraordinary and unlucky circumstance, a good man may be suspected of a crime he could never have committed. As a result, he may be most unjustly exposed to the horror and hatred of humanity for the rest of his life. Such an accident may be said to cost him everything, despite his integrity and justice. In the same way, a cautious man may be ruined by an earthquake or a flood, despite taking the greatest care. “Accidents of the first kind, however, are perhaps even rarer and more contrary to the usual course of events than those of the second. It remains true that practicing truth, justice, and humanity is a certain and almost infallible way to gain what those virtues chiefly aim at: the confidence and love of those we live with. A person’s actions may easily be misrepresented in a particular instance. But it is scarcely possible to misrepresent his conduct as a whole. An innocent man may be thought to have done wrong, though this will rarely happen. On the contrary, an established belief in the innocence of his conduct will often lead us to clear him of blame when he really has been at fault, even when there is very strong evidence against him.”

I perfectly coincide in opinion with this writer, for I verily believe, that few of either sex were ever despised for certain vices without deserving to be despised. I speak not of the calumny of the moment, which hangs over a character, like one of the dense fogs of November over this metropolis, till it gradually subsides before the common light of day, I only contend, that the daily conduct of the majority prevails to stamp their character with the impression of truth. Quietly does the clear light, shining day after day, refute the ignorant surmise, or malicious tale, which has thrown dirt on a pure character. A false light distorted, for a short time, its shadow—reputation; but it seldom fails to become just when the cloud is dispersed that produced the mistake in vision.

I completely agree with this writer. I truly believe that few people of either sex have been despised for certain vices without deserving it. I am not speaking of the slander of the moment, which hangs over a person’s character. It is like one of the thick November fogs over this city, gradually fading in the ordinary light of day. I only argue that, for most people, their daily conduct eventually reveals their true character. Quietly, the clear light of day shines day after day, disproving the ignorant guess or malicious story that has tarnished a pure character. A false light briefly distorted its shadow, reputation. But reputation seldom fails to become fair once the cloud that caused the mistaken view has cleared.

Many people, undoubtedly in several respects, obtain a better reputation than, strictly speaking, they deserve, for unremitting industry will mostly reach its goal in all races. They who only strive for this paltry prize, like the Pharisees, who prayed at the corners of streets, to be seen of men, verily obtain the reward they seek; for the heart of man cannot be read by man! Still the fair fame that is naturally reflected by good actions, when the man is only employed to direct his steps aright, regardless of the lookers-on, is in general, not only more true but more sure.

Many people undoubtedly have a better reputation than they strictly deserve in several respects. After all, persistent effort will usually reach its goal in any race. Some people strive only for this small prize. Like the Pharisees who prayed on street corners so others would see them, they certainly get the reward they seek. For no one can read another person’s heart! But a good reputation naturally follows good actions when a person simply tries to do what is right, regardless of onlookers. Such a reputation is generally not only more deserved but also more secure.

There are, it is true, trials when the good man must appeal to God from the injustice of man; and amidst the whining candour or hissing of envy, erect a pavilion in his own mind to retire to, till the rumour be overpast; nay, the darts of undeserved censure may pierce an innocent tender bosom through with many sorrows; but these are all exceptions to general rules. And it is according to these common laws that human behaviour ought to be regulated. The eccentric orbit of the comet never influences astronomical calculations respecting the invariable order established in the motion of the principal bodies of the solar system.

It is true that a good man sometimes faces trials when he must appeal to God against human injustice. Amid the whining of those who claim to be fair, or the hissing of envy, he must build a shelter in his own mind. He must retreat there until the uproar has passed. Indeed, undeserved criticism may pierce an innocent, tender heart and cause it much sorrow. But these are all exceptions to general rules. Human behavior ought to be governed by these common laws. The unusual orbit of a comet never affects astronomical calculations concerning the fixed order of the solar system’s principal bodies.

I will then venture to affirm, that after a man has arrived at maturity, the general outline of his character in the world is just, allowing for the before mentioned exceptions to the rule. I do not say, that a prudent, worldly-wise man, with only negative virtues and qualities, may not sometimes obtain a smoother reputation than a wiser or a better man. So far from it, that I am apt to conclude from experience, that where the virtue of two people is nearly equal, the most negative character will be liked best by the world at large, whilst the other may have more friends in private life. But the hills and dales, clouds and sunshine, conspicuous in the virtues of great men, set off each other; and though they afford envious weakness a fairer mark to shoot at, the real character will still work its way to light, though bespattered by weak affection, or ingenious malice.*

I will venture to say, then, that once a man reaches maturity, his general reputation is fair, allowing for the exceptions mentioned earlier. I do not mean that a prudent, worldly-wise man with only negative virtues and qualities cannot sometimes have a better reputation than a wiser or better man. Far from it. Experience leads me to think that, when two people are nearly equal in virtue, the world at large will like the more negative character best. The other person may have more friends in private life. But the hills and valleys, clouds and sunshine visible in great men's virtues bring out each other's qualities. Though these contrasts give the weak and envious an easier target, a great man's true character will still come to light. It will do so even when tarnished by foolish affection or clever malice.*

(*Footnote. I allude to various biographical writings, but particularly to Boswell's Life of Johnson.)

(*Footnote. I refer to various biographical works, but especially to Boswell's Life of Johnson.)

With respect to that anxiety to preserve a reputation hardly earned, which leads sagacious people to analyze it, I shall not make the obvious comment; but I am afraid that morality is very insidiously undermined, in the female world, by the attention being turned to the show instead of the substance. A simple thing is thus made strangely complicated; nay, sometimes virtue and its shadow are set at variance. We should never, perhaps, have heard of Lucretia, had she died to preserve her chastity instead of her reputation. If we really deserve our own good opinion, we shall commonly be respected in the world; but if we pant after higher improvement and higher attainments, it is not sufficient to view ourselves as we suppose that we are viewed by others, though this has been ingeniously argued as the foundation of our moral sentiments. (Smith.) Because each bystander may have his own prejudices, besides the prejudices of his age or country. We should rather endeavour to view ourselves, as we suppose that Being views us, who seeth each thought ripen into action, and whose judgment never swerves from the eternal rule of right. Righteous are all his judgments—just, as merciful!

I will not make the obvious comment about the anxiety to preserve a reputation that was hard to earn. That anxiety leads shrewd people to analyze their reputations. But I fear that morality is being subtly undermined among women because attention is directed to appearances rather than substance. A simple matter is made strangely complicated. Sometimes virtue and its shadow are even set against each other. We might never have heard of Lucretia if she had died to preserve her chastity instead of her reputation. If we truly deserve our own good opinion, we will usually be respected by the world. But if we long to improve ourselves and achieve more, it is not enough to see ourselves as we think others see us. Yet this view of ourselves has been cleverly argued to be the foundation of our moral sentiments. (Smith.) It is not enough because every observer may have personal prejudices, as well as the prejudices of their age or country. Instead, we should try to see ourselves as we believe God sees us. He sees every thought develop into action, and his judgment never departs from the eternal rule of right. All his judgments are righteous, as just as they are merciful!

The humble mind that seeketh to find favour in His sight, and calmly examines its conduct when only His presence is felt, will seldom form a very erroneous opinion of its own virtues. During the still hour of self-collection, the angry brow of offended justice will be fearfully deprecated, or the tie which draws man to the Deity will be recognized in the pure sentiment of reverential adoration, that swells the heart without exciting any tumultuous emotions. In these solemn moments man discovers the germ of those vices, which like the Java tree shed a pestiferous vapour around—death is in the shade! and he perceives them without abhorrence, because he feels himself drawn by some cord of love to all his fellow creatures, for whose follies he is anxious to find every extenuation in their nature—in himself. If I, he may thus argue, who exercise my own mind, and have been refined by tribulation, find the serpent's egg in some fold of my heart, and crush it with difficulty, shall not I pity those who are stamped with less vigour, or who have heedlessly nurtured the insidious reptile till it poisoned the vital stream it sucked? Can I, conscious of my secret sins, throw off my fellow creatures, and calmly see them drop into the chasm of perdition, that yawns to receive them. No! no! The agonized heart will cry with suffocating impatience—I too am a man! and have vices, hid, perhaps, from human eye, that bend me to the dust before God, and loudly tell me when all is mute, that we are formed of the same earth, and breathe the same element. Humanity thus rises naturally out of humility, and twists the cords of love that in various convolutions entangle the heart.

A humble person who seeks favor in God’s sight will rarely be very mistaken about their own virtues. Such a person calmly examines their conduct when they feel only his presence. In a quiet hour of reflection, they will fearfully pray to be spared the anger of offended justice. Or they will recognize the bond that draws people to God in a pure feeling of reverent worship. This feeling fills the heart without stirring up turbulent emotions. In these solemn moments, a person discovers the seeds of vices that, like the Java tree, spread a deadly vapor around them. Death lies in their shade! Yet a person sees these vices without disgust, because a bond of love seems to draw them to all their fellow creatures. For their fellow creatures’ follies, they are eager to find every excuse in human nature and in themselves. A person might reason this way: If I exercise my mind and have been refined by suffering, yet find a serpent’s egg hidden in my heart and crush it only with difficulty, should I not pity others? Some have been given less strength. Others have carelessly nurtured the treacherous reptile until it poisoned the lifeblood it fed on. Can I, aware of my secret sins, abandon my fellow creatures? Can I calmly watch them fall into the gaping pit of damnation? No! No! The anguished heart will cry out with choking impatience: I too am human! I have vices, perhaps hidden from human eyes, that humble me to the dust before God. When all else is silent, these vices tell me loudly that we are made of the same earth and breathe the same air. Compassion for others thus grows naturally from humility. It twists the cords of love that wind around the heart in many ways.

This sympathy extends still further, till a man well pleased observes force in arguments that do not carry conviction to his own bosom, and he gladly places in the fairest light to himself, the shows of reason that have led others astray, rejoiced to find some reason in all the errors of man; though before convinced that he who rules the day makes his sun to shine on all. Yet, shaking hands thus, as it were, with corruption, one foot on earth, the other with bold strides mounts to heaven, and claims kindred with superiour natures. Virtues, unobserved by men, drop their balmy fragrance at this cool hour, and the thirsty land, refreshed by the pure streams of comfort that suddenly gush out, is crowned with smiling verdure; this is the living green on which that eye may look with complacency that is too pure to behold iniquity! But my spirits flag; and I must silently indulge the reverie these reflections lead to, unable to describe the sentiments that have calmed my soul, when watching the rising sun, a soft shower drizzling through the leaves of neighbouring trees, seemed to fall on my languid, yet tranquil spirits, to cool the heart that had been heated by the passions which reason laboured to tame.

This sympathy goes still further. A man comes to see the strength in arguments that do not convince him, and takes pleasure in doing so. He gladly considers the apparent reasons that have led others astray in the best possible light. He rejoices to find some reason in all human errors. Yet he was already convinced that he who rules the day makes his sun shine on all. Even as he seems to shake hands with corruption, one foot remains on earth while the other boldly strides toward heaven. He claims kinship with higher beings. At this cool hour, virtues unnoticed by people release their soothing fragrance. Pure streams of comfort suddenly gush out and refresh the thirsty land, covering it with smiling greenery. This is the living green on which the eye too pure to look upon wrongdoing may look with pleasure! But my spirits are fading, and I must silently give myself over to the reverie these reflections inspire. I cannot describe the feelings that have calmed my soul while I watched the rising sun. A soft shower drizzled through the leaves of nearby trees, seeming to fall upon my weary yet tranquil spirits. It seemed to cool the heart that had been heated by passions reason struggled to tame.

The leading principles which run through all my disquisitions, would render it unnecessary to enlarge on this subject, if a constant attention to keep the varnish of the character fresh, and in good condition, were not often inculcated as the sum total of female duty; if rules to regulate the behaviour, and to preserve the reputation, did not too frequently supersede moral obligations. But, with respect to reputation, the attention is confined to a single virtue—chastity. If the honour of a woman, as it is absurdly called, is safe, she may neglect every social duty; nay, ruin her family by gaming and extravagance; yet still present a shameless front —for truly she is an honourable woman!

The main principles running through all my discussions would make further discussion of this subject unnecessary, if women were not often taught that keeping up appearances is their whole duty. Rules for managing their behavior and protecting their reputations also too often take the place of moral obligations. But when it comes to reputation, attention is focused on a single virtue: chastity. If a woman's honor, as it is absurdly called, is safe, she may neglect every social duty. She may even ruin her family through gambling and extravagance, yet still show her face without shame. For surely she is an honorable woman!

Mrs. Macaulay has justly observed, that "there is but one fault which a woman of honour may not commit with impunity." She then justly and humanely adds—This has given rise to the trite and foolish observation, that the first fault against chastity in woman has a radical power to deprave the character. But no such frail beings come out of the hands of nature. The human mind is built of nobler materials than to be so easily corrupted; and with all their disadvantages of situation and education, women seldom become entirely abandoned till they are thrown into a state of desperation, by the venomous rancour of their own sex."

Mrs. Macaulay has rightly observed that "there is only one fault a woman of honor cannot commit without punishment." She then rightly and humanely adds: This has given rise to the common and foolish claim that a woman's first offense against chastity fundamentally corrupts her character. But nature creates no such fragile beings. The human mind is made of nobler materials and is not so easily corrupted. Despite all the disadvantages of their situation and education, women seldom become completely immoral until their own sex's vicious hatred drives them to desperation."

But, in proportion as this regard for the reputation of chastity is prized by women, it is despised by men: and the two extremes are equally destructive to morality.

But the more women value a reputation for chastity, the more men despise it. Both extremes are equally destructive to morality.

Men are certainly more under the influence of their appetites than women; and their appetites are more depraved by unbridled indulgence, and the fastidious contrivances of satiety. Luxury has introduced a refinement in eating that destroys the constitution; and, a degree of gluttony which is so beastly, that a perception of seemliness of behaviour must be worn out before one being could eat immoderately in the presence of another, and afterwards complain of the oppression that his intemperance naturally produced. Some women, particularly French women, have also lost a sense of decency in this respect; for they will talk very calmly of an indigestion. It were to be wished, that idleness was not allowed to generate, on the rank soil of wealth, those swarms of summer insects that feed on putrefaction; we should not then be disgusted by the sight of such brutal excesses.

Men are certainly more controlled by their appetites than women. Their appetites are also more corrupted by unchecked indulgence and by the fussy ways they devise to satisfy jaded tastes. Luxury has brought a refinement in eating that ruins health. It has also brought a degree of gluttony so beastly that a person must have lost all sense of proper behavior to eat excessively in front of someone else. Such a person will then complain of the discomfort that naturally follows from overeating. Some women, especially French women, have also lost their sense of decency in this respect. They will speak quite calmly about having indigestion. If only idleness were not allowed to breed, on the fertile soil of wealth, those swarms of summer insects that feed on decay. Then we would not be disgusted by the sight of such brutal excesses.

There is one rule relative to behaviour that, I think, ought to regulate every other; and it is simply to cherish such an habitual respect for mankind, as may prevent us from disgusting a fellow creature for the sake of a present indulgence. The shameful indolence of many married women, and others a little advanced in life, frequently leads them to sin against delicacy. For, though convinced that the person is the band of union between the sexes, yet, how often do they from sheer indolence, or to enjoy some trifling indulgence, disgust?

I think one rule of behavior should guide all the others. We should develop a lasting respect for other people, so that we do not disgust them for the sake of a moment’s indulgence. Many married women and other women who are somewhat older are shamefully lazy, and this often leads them to neglect propriety. They are convinced that physical attraction binds the sexes together. Yet how often do they disgust others through sheer laziness or to enjoy some trivial indulgence?

The depravity of the appetite, which brings the sexes together, has had a still more fatal effect. Nature must ever be the standard of taste, the guage of appetite—yet how grossly is nature insulted by the voluptuary. Leaving the refinements of love out of the question; nature, by making the gratification of an appetite, in this respect, as well as every other, a natural and imperious law to preserve the species, exalts the appetite, and mixes a little mind and affection with a sensual gust. The feelings of a parent mingling with an instinct merely animal, give it dignity; and the man and woman often meeting on account of the child, a mutual interest and affection is excited by the exercise of a common sympathy. Women then having necessarily some duty to fulfil, more noble than to adorn their persons, would not contentedly be the slaves of casual appetite, which is now the situation of a very considerable number who are, literally speaking, standing dishes to which every glutton may have access.

The corruption of the sexual desire that brings men and women together has had an even more fatal effect. Nature must always be the standard of taste and the measure of desire. Yet the pleasure seeker treats nature with gross contempt. Let us set aside the refinements of love. Nature makes the satisfaction of sexual desire, like the satisfaction of every other appetite, a natural and compelling law. This law preserves the species. In doing so, nature elevates sexual desire, mixing some thought and affection with sensual pleasure. A parent’s feelings mingle with a merely animal instinct and give the instinct dignity. The man and woman often meet because of their child. As they share concern for the child, they develop mutual interest and affection. Women would then have duties more noble than adorning themselves. They would not contentedly be slaves to passing desire, as a very considerable number of women are now. These women are, literally speaking, dishes left out for every glutton to help himself to.

I may be told, that great as this enormity is, it only affects a devoted part of the sex—devoted for the salvation of the rest. But, false as every assertion might easily be proved, that recommends the sanctioning a small evil to produce a greater good; the mischief does not stop here, for the moral character, and peace of mind, of the chaster part of the sex, is undermined by the conduct of the very women to whom they allow no refuge from guilt: whom they inexorably consign to the exercise of arts that lure their husbands from them, debauch their sons and force them, let not modest women start, to assume, in some degree, the same character themselves. For I will venture to assert, that all the causes of female weakness, as well as depravity, which I have already enlarged on, branch out of one grand cause—want of chastity in men.

I may be told that, however great this outrage is, it affects only a sacrificed portion of women, sacrificed to save the rest. But every claim that supports permitting a small evil to produce a greater good could easily be proved false. And the harm does not stop there. The conduct of these women undermines the moral character and peace of mind of more chaste women. Yet those more chaste women allow the others no escape from guilt. They condemn them without mercy to use their wiles to lure husbands away from their wives and corrupt their sons. They even force those wives, though modest women may recoil at the thought, to take on the same character themselves to some degree. For I will venture to assert that all the causes of female weakness and depravity that I have already discussed at length stem from one great cause: a lack of chastity in men.

This intemperance, so prevalent, depraves the appetite to such a degree, that a wanton stimulus is necessary to rouse it; but the parental design of nature is forgotten, and the mere person, and that, for a moment, alone engrosses the thoughts. So voluptuous, indeed, often grows the lustful prowler, that he refines on female softness.

This widespread excess corrupts the appetite so much that it needs a sensual thrill to stir it. But nature’s purpose of parenthood is forgotten. Instead, the person’s body alone occupies the mind, and only for a moment. Indeed, the lustful prowler often becomes so devoted to pleasure that he seeks ever more refined forms of feminine softness.

To satisfy this genius of men, women are made systematically voluptuous, and though they may not all carry their libertinism to the same height, yet this heartless intercourse with the sex, which they allow themselves, depraves both sexes, because the taste of men is vitiated; and women, of all classes, naturally square their behaviour to gratify the taste by which they obtain pleasure and power. Women becoming, consequently weaker, in mind and body, than they ought to be, were one of the grand ends of their being taken into the account, that of bearing and nursing children, have not sufficient strength to discharge the first duty of a mother; and sacrificing to lasciviousness the parental affection, that ennobles instinct, either destroy the embryo in the womb, or cast it off when born. Nature in every thing demands respect, and those who violate her laws seldom violate them with impunity. The weak enervated women who particularly catch the attention of libertines, are unfit to be mothers, though they may conceive; so that the rich sensualist, who has rioted among women, spreading depravity and misery, when he wishes to perpetuate his name, receives from his wife only an half-formed being that inherits both its father's and mother's weakness.

To satisfy men's inclinations, women are systematically trained to be sensual. Not all women may take their sexual freedom to the same extreme. Yet the heartless sexual relationships they permit themselves corrupt both sexes, because men's taste is corrupted. Women of all classes naturally shape their behavior to satisfy the taste that gives them pleasure and power. As a result, women become weaker in mind and body than they should be. One of the great purposes of their existence is to bear and nurse children. Yet they lack the strength to perform a mother's first duty. They sacrifice to lust the parental affection that ennobles instinct. They either destroy the embryo in the womb or abandon the child at birth. Nature demands respect in everything, and those who violate her laws seldom escape the consequences. The weak, enfeebled women who especially attract libertines are unfit to be mothers, though they may conceive. So the rich pleasure seeker indulges himself freely among women, spreading corruption and misery. When he wishes to pass on his name, his wife gives him only a half-formed child. That child inherits the weakness of both father and mother.

Contrasting the humanity of the present age with the barbarism of antiquity, great stress has been laid on the savage custom of exposing the children whom their parents could not maintain; whilst the man of sensibility, who thus, perhaps, complains, by his promiscuous amours produces a most destructive barrenness and contagious flagitiousness of manners. Surely nature never intended that women, by satisfying an appetite, should frustrate the very purpose for which it was implanted?

People often contrast the humanity of our age with the barbarism of ancient times. They strongly condemn the savage custom of abandoning children whose parents could not support them. Yet the sensitive man who perhaps makes this complaint causes disastrous childlessness and a contagious corruption of morals through his casual affairs. Surely nature never intended women to satisfy an appetite in a way that defeats the very purpose for which it was given?

I have before observed, that men ought to maintain the women whom they have seduced; this would be one means of reforming female manners, and stopping an abuse that has an equally fatal effect on population and morals. Another, no less obvious, would be to turn the attention of woman to the real virtue of chastity; for to little respect has that woman a claim, on the score of modesty, though her reputation may be white as the driven snow, who smiles on the libertine whilst she spurns the victims of his lawless appetites and their own folly.

I have said before that men should support the women they have seduced. This would be one way to reform women’s behavior and stop an abuse that is equally harmful to population and morals. Another equally obvious way would be to draw women’s attention to the true virtue of chastity. A woman deserves little respect for her modesty if she welcomes a libertine while rejecting his victims. Those women are victims both of his uncontrolled desires and of their own folly. She deserves little respect even if her reputation is spotless.

Besides, she has a taint of the same folly, pure as she esteems herself, when she studiously adorns her person only to be seen by men, to excite respectful sighs, and all the idle homage of what is called innocent gallantry. Did women really respect virtue for its own sake, they would not seek for a compensation in vanity, for the self-denial which they are obliged to practise to preserve their reputation, nor would they associate with men who set reputation at defiance.

Besides, however pure she considers herself, she shares a trace of the same folly. She carefully dresses herself up only to be seen by men, to draw respectful sighs and all the idle flattery of what is called innocent gallantry. If women truly respected virtue for its own sake, they would not seek a reward for their vanity in return for the self-denial they must practice to protect their reputation. Nor would they associate with men who openly disregard their own reputations.

The two sexes mutually corrupt and improve each other. This I believe to be an indisputable truth, extending it to every virtue. Chastity, modesty, public spirit, and all the noble train of virtues, on which social virtue and happiness are built, should be understood and cultivated by all mankind, or they will be cultivated to little effect. And, instead of furnishing the vicious or idle with a pretext for violating some sacred duty, by terming it a sexual one, it would be wiser to show, that nature has not made any difference, for that the unchaste man doubly defeats the purpose of nature by rendering women barren, and destroying his own constitution, though he avoids the shame that pursues the crime in the other sex. These are the physical consequences, the moral are still more alarming; for virtue is only a nominal distinction when the duties of citizens, husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, and directors of families, become merely the selfish ties of convenience.

The two sexes corrupt and improve each other. I believe this is an indisputable truth, and that it applies to every virtue. Chastity, modesty, public spirit, and all the other noble virtues are the foundation of social virtue and happiness. Everyone must understand and cultivate these virtues, or they will be cultivated to little effect. Calling a sacred duty a duty of only one sex gives vicious or idle people an excuse to neglect it. Instead, it would be wiser to show that nature has made no such distinction. An unchaste man doubly defeats nature’s purpose by making women barren and damaging his own health. Yet he escapes the shame that follows the same offense when a woman commits it. These are the physical consequences. The moral consequences are even more alarming. For virtue is only a name when the duties of citizens, husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, and heads of families become merely selfish bonds of convenience.

Why then do philosophers look for public spirit? Public spirit must be nurtured by private virtue, or it will resemble the factitious sentiment which makes women careful to preserve their reputation, and men their honour. A sentiment that often exists unsupported by virtue, unsupported by that sublime morality which makes the habitual breach of one duty a breach of the whole moral law.

Why, then, do philosophers look for concern for the public good? It must be nurtured by private virtue. Otherwise, it will resemble the artificial feeling that makes women guard their reputations and men guard their honour. That feeling often exists without virtue. It exists without the lofty morality that makes the habitual neglect of one duty a violation of the whole moral law.