Chapter 4

There remains a question, not of less importance than those already discussed, and which will be asked the most importunately by those opponents whose conviction is somewhat shaken on the main point. What good are we to expect from the changes proposed in our customs and institutions? Would mankind be at all better off if women were free? If not, why disturb their minds, and attempt to make a social revolution in the name of an abstract right?

One question remains, no less important than those already discussed. Opponents whose confidence in their main position has been somewhat shaken will press this question most insistently. What good can we expect from the proposed changes to our customs and institutions? Would humanity be any better off if women were free? If not, why unsettle women's minds and try to bring about a social revolution for an abstract right?

It is hardly to be expected that this question will be asked in respect to the change proposed in the condition of women in marriage. The sufferings, immoralities, evils of all sorts, produced in innumerable cases by the subjection of individual women to individual men, are far too terrible to be overlooked. Unthinking or uncandid persons, counting those cases alone which are extreme, or which attain publicity, may say that the evils are exceptional; but no one can be blind to their existence, nor, in many cases, to their intensity. And it is perfectly obvious that the abuse of the power cannot be very much checked while the power remains. It is a power given, or offered, not to good men, or to decently respectable men, but to all men; the most brutal, and the most criminal. There is no check but that of opinion, and such men are in general within the reach of no opinion but that of men like themselves. If such men did not brutally tyrannize over the one human being whom the law compels to bear everything from them, society must already have reached a paradisiacal state. There could be no need any longer of laws to curb men's vicious propensities. Astræa must not only have returned to earth, but the heart of the worst man must have become her temple. The law of servitude in marriage is a monstrous contradiction to all the principles of the modern world, and to all the experience through which those principles have been slowly and painfully worked out. It is the sole case, now that negro slavery has been abolished, in which a human being in the plenitude of every faculty is delivered up to the tender mercies of another human being, in the hope forsooth that this other will use the power solely for the good of the person subjected to it. Marriage is the only actual bondage known to our law. There remain no legal slaves, except the mistress of every house.

We can hardly expect this question to be asked about the proposed change in women’s position within marriage. In countless cases, subjecting individual women to individual men produces suffering, immorality, and evils of every kind. These evils are far too terrible to overlook. Thoughtless or dishonest people may count only the extreme cases, or those that become public, and call these evils exceptional. But no one can deny that these evils exist or, in many cases, that they are severe. And clearly, abuse of this power cannot be greatly restrained while the power itself remains. This power is given or offered not just to good men, or even to reasonably respectable men, but to all men. That includes the most brutal and the most criminal. Public opinion is the only restraint. Yet such men are generally influenced only by the opinions of men like themselves. The law forces one human being to endure everything these men inflict on her. If such men did not brutally tyrannize over her, society must already have become a paradise. There would no longer be any need for laws to restrain men’s vicious impulses. Astræa, the goddess of justice, must not only have returned to earth. Even the worst man’s heart must have become her temple. The law that makes wives servants is a monstrous contradiction of all the principles of the modern world. It also contradicts all the experience through which those principles have slowly and painfully developed. Now that Black slavery has been abolished, marriage is the only remaining case of such subjection. A human being with all her faculties intact is handed over to the tender mercies of another human being. And supposedly, this other person will use that power solely for the benefit of the person subjected to it. Marriage is the only actual bondage recognized by our law. No legal slaves remain except the woman who runs every household.

It is not, therefore, on this part of the subject, that the question is likely to be asked, Cui bono? We may be told that the evil would outweigh the good, but the reality of the good admits of no dispute. In regard, however, to the larger question, the removal of women's disabilities—their recognition as the equals of men in all that belongs to citizenship—the opening to them of all honourable employments, and of the training and education which qualifies for those employments—there are many persons for whom it is not enough that the inequality has no just or legitimate defence; they require to be told what express advantage would be obtained by abolishing it.

So, on this part of the subject, people are unlikely to ask, What good would it do? We may be told that the harm would outweigh the good, but the good itself cannot be disputed. However, there is a broader question: removing the restrictions on women’s rights. This means recognizing women as men’s equals in all matters of citizenship. It also means opening all respectable occupations to women, along with the training and education needed for those occupations. For many people, the fact that this inequality has no fair or legitimate defense is not enough. They demand to know what specific benefit would come from abolishing the inequality.

To which let me first answer, the advantage of having the most universal and pervading of all human relations regulated by justice instead of injustice. The vast amount of this gain to human nature, it is hardly possible, by any explanation or illustration, to place in a stronger light than it is placed by the bare statement, to any one who attaches a moral meaning to words. All the selfish propensities, the self-worship, the unjust self-preference, which exist among mankind, have their source and root in, and derive their principal nourishment from, the present constitution of the relation between men and women. Think what it is to a boy, to grow up to manhood in the belief that without any merit or any exertion of his own, though he may be the most frivolous and empty or the most ignorant and stolid of mankind, by the mere fact of being born a male he is by right the superior of all and every one of an entire half of the human race: including probably some whose real superiority to himself he has daily or hourly occasion to feel; but even if in his whole conduct he habitually follows a woman's guidance, still, if he is a fool, she thinks that of course she is not, and cannot be, equal in ability and judgment to himself; and if he is not a fool, he does worse—he sees that she is superior to him, and believes that, notwithstanding her superiority, he is entitled to command and she is bound to obey. What must be the effect on his character, of this lesson? And men of the cultivated classes are often not aware how deeply it sinks into the immense majority of male minds. For, among right-feeling and well-bred people, the inequality is kept as much as possible out of sight; above all, out of sight of the children. As much obedience is required from boys to their mother as to their father: they are not permitted to domineer over their sisters, nor are they accustomed to see these postponed to them, but the contrary; the compensations of the chivalrous feeling being made prominent, while the servitude which requires them is kept in the background. Well brought-up youths in the higher classes thus often escape the bad influences of the situation in their early years, and only experience them when, arrived at manhood, they fall under the dominion of facts as they really exist. Such people are little aware, when a boy is differently brought up, how early the notion of his inherent superiority to a girl arises in his mind; how it grows with his growth and strengthens with his strength; how it is inoculated by one schoolboy upon another; how early the youth thinks himself superior to his mother, owing her perhaps forbearance, but no real respect; and how sublime and sultan-like a sense of superiority he feels, above all, over the woman whom he honours by admitting her to a partnership of his life. Is it imagined that all this does not pervert the whole manner of existence of the man, both as an individual and as a social being? It is an exact parallel to the feeling of a hereditary king that he is excellent above others by being born a king, or a noble by being born a noble. The relation between husband and wife is very like that between lord and vassal, except that the wife is held to more unlimited obedience than the vassal was. However the vassal's character may have been affected, for better and for worse, by his subordination, who can help seeing that the lord's was affected greatly for the worse? whether he was led to believe that his vassals were really superior to himself, or to feel that he was placed in command over people as good as himself, for no merits or labours of his own, but merely for having, as Figaro says, taken the trouble to be born. The self-worship of the monarch, or of the feudal superior, is matched by the self-worship of the male. Human beings do not grow up from childhood in the possession of unearned distinctions, without pluming themselves upon them. Those whom privileges not acquired by their merit, and which they feel to be disproportioned to it, inspire with additional humility, are always the few, and the best few. The rest are only inspired with pride, and the worst sort of pride, that which values itself upon accidental advantages, not of its own achieving. Above all, when the feeling of being raised above the whole of the other sex is combined with personal authority over one individual among them; the situation, if a school of conscientious and affectionate forbearance to those whose strongest points of character are conscience and affection, is to men of another quality a regularly constituted Academy or Gymnasium for training them in arrogance and overbearingness; which vices, if curbed by the certainty of resistance in their intercourse with other men, their equals, break out towards all who are in a position to be obliged to tolerate them, and often revenge themselves upon the unfortunate wife for the involuntary restraint which they are obliged to submit to elsewhere.

My first answer is the advantage of governing the most universal and far-reaching human relationship by justice rather than injustice. The benefit to human nature is enormous. For anyone who gives words a moral meaning, hardly any explanation or example could make this clearer than that simple statement. All human selfishness, self-worship, and unjust preference for oneself are rooted in the present relationship between men and women. That relationship is also their main source of nourishment. Consider what it means for a boy to grow into manhood believing himself superior to every woman. He believes this superiority is his right simply because he was born male, without any merit or effort of his own. He may be the most shallow and empty-headed man, or the most ignorant and dull. Yet he believes himself superior to every member of an entire half of the human race. That half probably includes some whose actual superiority he has reason to feel every day or every hour. He may even habitually follow a woman's guidance in everything he does. But if he is a fool, she thinks she is, of course, neither his equal in ability nor in judgment. If he is not a fool, he does worse. He recognizes her superiority but believes he is still entitled to command her, and she is bound to obey. What must this lesson do to his character? Men from educated social classes often fail to realize how deeply this lesson sinks into the vast majority of male minds. Among decent, well-mannered people, the inequality is hidden as much as possible, especially from children. Boys must obey their mother as much as their father. Boys are not allowed to bully their sisters. Nor do boys usually see their sisters put second. Instead, they see the opposite. The courtesies of chivalry receive attention, while the subjection those courtesies compensate for remains in the background. Well-brought-up boys in the upper classes therefore often escape the harmful effects of this situation during their early years. They experience those effects only as adults, when the realities of life take control. Such people hardly realize how early a differently raised boy begins to believe himself naturally superior to a girl. They hardly realize how this belief grows as he grows and strengthens as he strengthens. They do not see how one schoolboy passes it to another. Nor do they see how early a boy considers himself superior to his mother. He may think he owes her patience, but no real respect. Above all, they miss his lofty, sultan-like sense of superiority over the woman he honors by sharing his life with her. Can anyone imagine that all this does not corrupt a man's entire way of living, both individually and in society? His attitude exactly parallels a hereditary king's belief that being born a king makes him better than others. The same holds for a noble who believes himself better because he was born noble. The relationship between husband and wife closely resembles the relationship between lord and vassal. But the wife is expected to obey even more completely than the vassal was. Subordination may have affected the vassal's character for better and for worse. But who can fail to see that the lord's character became much worse? This was true whether he came to believe his vassals were actually superior to him or recognized them as his equals. He commanded them without any merit or effort of his own. His only qualification, as Figaro says, was having taken the trouble to be born. Male self-worship matches the self-worship of monarchs and feudal lords. People do not grow up enjoying unearned distinctions without congratulating themselves on those distinctions. Some become more humble because they recognize that their unearned privileges exceed their merits. But such people are always few, and the best of the few. The rest become proud, with the worst kind of pride. They take pride in accidental advantages they did nothing to achieve. This is especially true when a man's sense of superiority over all women combines with personal authority over one woman. For men whose strongest qualities are conscience and affection, this situation can teach loving and conscientious restraint. But for men of a different character, it is an established academy or gymnasium for training in arrogance and bullying. Among other men, their equals, the certainty of resistance may keep these vices in check. But their arrogance and bullying break out against anyone whose position forces them to tolerate such behavior. Often, these men take revenge on their unfortunate wives for the restraint they are forced to exercise elsewhere.

The example afforded, and the education given to the sentiments, by laying the foundation of domestic existence upon a relation contradictory to the first principles of social justice, must, from the very nature of man, have a perverting influence of such magnitude, that it is hardly possible with our present experience to raise our imaginations to the conception of so great a change for the better as would be made by its removal. All that education and civilization are doing to efface the influences on character of the law of force, and replace them by those of justice, remains merely on the surface, as long as the citadel of the enemy is not attacked. The principle of the modern movement in morals and politics, is that conduct, and conduct alone, entitles to respect: that not what men are, but what they do, constitutes their claim to deference; that, above all, merit, and not birth, is the only rightful claim to power and authority. If no authority, not in its nature temporary, were allowed to one human being over another, society would not be employed in building up propensities with one hand which it has to curb with the other. The child would really, for the first time in man's existence on earth, be trained in the way he should go, and when he was old there would be a chance that he would not depart from it. But so long as the right of the strong to power over the weak rules in the very heart of society, the attempt to make the equal right of the weak the principle of its outward actions will always be an uphill struggle; for the law of justice, which is also that of Christianity, will never get possession of men's inmost sentiments; they will be working against it, even when bending to it.

Basing domestic life on a relationship that contradicts the basic principles of social justice sets an example and shapes our feelings. Given human nature, the corrupting influence must be immense. With our present experience, we can hardly imagine how much better things would be if that relationship were abolished. Education and civilization work to erase the effects of the rule of force on character, replacing them with justice. But all these efforts remain superficial as long as the enemy’s stronghold remains untouched. The guiding principle of the modern movement in morals and politics is that conduct alone deserves respect. People deserve deference because of what they do, not who they are. Above all, merit, not birth, is the only legitimate claim to power and authority. Suppose no human being were allowed any authority over another unless that authority was temporary by its very nature. Society would then stop encouraging tendencies with one hand that it must restrain with the other. For the first time in human history, children would truly be brought up to follow the right path. And when they grew old, there would be a chance they would not leave that path. But the right of the strong to rule the weak still governs the very heart of society. As long as that remains true, making equal rights for the weak guide society’s outward actions will always be an uphill struggle. For the law of justice, which is also the law of Christianity, will never take hold of people’s deepest feelings. Those feelings will work against that law, even when people submit to it.

The second benefit to be expected from giving to women the free use of their faculties, by leaving them the free choice of their employments, and opening to them the same field of occupation and the same prizes and encouragements as to other human beings, would be that of doubling the mass of mental faculties available for the higher service of humanity. Where there is now one person qualified to benefit mankind and promote the general improvement, as a public teacher, or an administrator of some branch of public or social affairs, there would then be a chance of two. Mental superiority of any kind is at present everywhere so much below the demand; there is such a deficiency of persons competent to do excellently anything which it requires any considerable amount of ability to do; that the loss to the world, by refusing to make use of one-half of the whole quantity of talent it possesses, is extremely serious. It is true that this amount of mental power is not totally lost. Much of it is employed, and would in any case be employed, in domestic management, and in the few other occupations open to women; and from the remainder indirect benefit is in many individual cases obtained, through the personal influence of individual women over individual men. But these benefits are partial; their range is extremely circumscribed; and if they must be admitted, on the one hand, as a deduction from the amount of fresh social power that would be acquired by giving freedom to one-half of the whole sum of human intellect, there must be added, on the other, the benefit of the stimulus that would be given to the intellect of men by the competition; or (to use a more true expression) by the necessity that would be imposed on them of deserving precedency before they could expect to obtain it.

A second benefit would come from letting women freely use their abilities and choose their work. Women would have access to the same occupations, rewards, and encouragement as everyone else. This freedom would double the intellectual ability available for humanity’s greater good. Where there is now one person qualified to benefit humanity and advance society, there could then be two. Such people might teach the public or manage some area of public or social affairs. Everywhere, exceptional intellectual ability falls far short of demand. There are far too few people capable of doing excellent work in anything requiring considerable ability. So the world suffers a very serious loss by refusing to use half its talent. It is true that this intellectual power is not entirely wasted. Much of it goes into managing households and the few other occupations open to women. Much would continue to be used in these ways regardless. Of the remaining ability, some provides indirect benefits in many individual cases through individual women’s personal influence over individual men. But these benefits are partial and extremely limited in scope. On the one hand, these existing benefits must count against the additional social power gained by freeing half of humanity’s intellect. On the other hand, we must add the benefit of competition, which would stimulate men’s intellect. Or, more accurately, men would have to deserve priority before they could expect to receive it.

This great accession to the intellectual power of the species, and to the amount of intellect available for the good management of its affairs, would be obtained, partly, through the better and more complete intellectual education of women, which would then improve pari passu with that of men. Women in general would be brought up equally capable of understanding business, public affairs, and the higher matters of speculation, with men in the same class of society; and the select few of the one as well as of the other sex, who were qualified not only to comprehend what is done or thought by others, but to think or do something considerable themselves, would meet with the same facilities for improving and training their capacities in the one sex as in the other. In this way, the widening of the sphere of action for women would operate for good, by raising their education to the level of that of men, and making the one participate in all improvements made in the other. But independently of this, the mere breaking down of the barrier would of itself have an educational virtue of the highest worth. The mere getting rid of the idea that all the wider subjects of thought and action, all the things which are of general and not solely of private interest, are men's business, from which women are to be warned off—positively interdicted from most of it, coldly tolerated in the little which is allowed them—the mere consciousness a woman would then have of being a human being like any other, entitled to choose her pursuits, urged or invited by the same inducements as any one else to interest herself in whatever is interesting to human beings, entitled to exert the share of influence on all human concerns which belongs to an individual opinion, whether she attempted actual participation in them or not—this alone would effect an immense expansion of the faculties of women, as well as enlargement of the range of their moral sentiments.

Humanity would gain greatly in intellectual power and in the intelligence available to manage its affairs well. This gain would come partly through better, more complete intellectual education for women. Women’s education would then improve at the same pace as men’s. Women generally would be educated to understand business, public affairs, and advanced theoretical questions. They would be as capable of understanding these subjects as men of the same social class. A few exceptional people of either sex could do more than understand what others had done or thought. They could themselves produce important ideas or achievements. These people would have equal opportunities to develop and train their abilities, whether women or men. In this way, expanding women’s opportunities for action would bring benefits by raising their education to men’s level. Women’s education would also share in all improvements made to men’s education. But beyond these benefits, simply removing the barrier would itself have enormous educational value. Women would no longer face the idea that all broader subjects of thought and action are men’s business. These include all matters of general interest, rather than purely private concerns. Women are warned away from these matters, expressly forbidden from most, and coldly tolerated in the few allowed them. Simply ending this exclusion would change a woman’s awareness of her own position. She would know herself to be a human being like any other, entitled to choose her pursuits. The same incentives that encourage anyone else would encourage or invite her to take an interest in whatever interests human beings. She would be entitled to exercise the influence that any individual opinion carries on all human concerns. This would hold whether or not she tried to take an active part in those concerns. This awareness alone would enormously expand women’s abilities and broaden the range of their moral feelings.

Besides the addition to the amount of individual talent available for the conduct of human affairs, which certainly are not at present so abundantly provided in that respect that they can afford to dispense with one-half of what nature proffers; the opinion of women would then possess a more beneficial, rather than a greater, influence upon the general mass of human belief and sentiment. I say a more beneficial, rather than a greater influence; for the influence of women over the general tone of opinion has always, or at least from the earliest known period, been very considerable. The influence of mothers on the early character of their sons, and the desire of young men to recommend themselves to young women, have in all recorded times been important agencies in the formation of character, and have determined some of the chief steps in the progress of civilization. Even in the Homeric age, αιδως towards the Τρωαδας ἑλκεσιπεπλους is an acknowledged and powerful motive of action in the great Hector. The moral influence of women has had two modes of operation. First, it has been a softening influence. Those who were most liable to be the victims of violence, have naturally tended as much as they could towards limiting its sphere and mitigating its excesses. Those who were not taught to fight, have naturally inclined in favour of any other mode of settling differences rather than that of fighting. In general, those who have been the greatest sufferers by the indulgence of selfish passion, have been the most earnest supporters of any moral law which offered a means of bridling passion. Women were powerfully instrumental in inducing the northern conquerors to adopt the creed of Christianity, a creed so much more favourable to women than any that preceded it. The conversion of the Anglo-Saxons and of the Franks may be said to have been begun by the wives of Ethelbert and Clovis. The other mode in which the effect of women's opinion has been conspicuous, is by giving a powerful stimulus to those qualities in men, which, not being themselves trained in, it was necessary for them that they should find in their protectors. Courage, and the military virtues generally, have at all times been greatly indebted to the desire which men felt of being admired by women: and the stimulus reaches far beyond this one class of eminent qualities, since, by a very natural effect of their position, the best passport to the admiration and favour of women has always been to be thought highly of by men. From the combination of the two kinds of moral influence thus exercised by women, arose the spirit of chivalry: the peculiarity of which is, to aim at combining the highest standard of the warlike qualities with the cultivation of a totally different class of virtues—those of gentleness, generosity, and self-abnegation, towards the non-military and defenceless classes generally, and a special submission and worship directed towards women; who were distinguished from the other defenceless classes by the high rewards which they had it in their power voluntarily to bestow on those who endeavoured to earn their favour, instead of extorting their subjection. Though the practice of chivalry fell even more sadly short of its theoretic standard than practice generally falls below theory, it remains one of the most precious monuments of the moral history of our race; as a remarkable instance of a concerted and organized attempt by a most disorganized and distracted society, to raise up and carry into practice a moral ideal greatly in advance of its social condition and institutions; so much so as to have been completely frustrated in the main object, yet never entirely inefficacious, and which has left a most sensible, and for the most part a highly valuable impress on the ideas and feelings of all subsequent times.

Besides adding to the talent available for managing human affairs, women’s opinions would then have a more beneficial influence. Human affairs are certainly not so well supplied with talent that we can afford to reject half of nature’s gifts. I say women’s influence on shared beliefs and feelings would be more beneficial, rather than greater. For women have always had considerable influence on the general tone of opinion, at least since the earliest known times. Mothers shape their sons’ early character, and young men want to impress young women. Throughout recorded history, both influences have played important roles in shaping character and determining some major advances in civilization. Even in the Homeric age, concern about the judgment of the Trojan women in their flowing robes powerfully motivates the great Hector. Women’s moral influence has worked in two ways. First, it has softened behavior. Those most likely to suffer violence have naturally done what they could to limit its reach and reduce its excesses. Those not taught to fight have naturally favored any other way of settling disputes. In general, those who have suffered most from unchecked selfish passions have most strongly supported moral laws that could restrain them. Women played a powerful role in persuading the northern conquerors to adopt Christianity. Christianity was far more favorable to women than any religion that preceded it. The conversion of the Anglo-Saxons and the Franks may be said to have begun with the wives of Ethelbert and Clovis. The other clear effect of women’s opinions has been to strongly encourage certain qualities in men. Women needed these qualities in their protectors because women themselves were not trained to develop them. Courage and military virtues generally have always owed much to men’s desire to be admired by women. But this encouragement extends far beyond military virtues. As a very natural result of women’s position, men’s high opinion has always been the surest route to women’s admiration and favor. These two kinds of moral influence combined to produce the spirit of chivalry. Chivalry’s distinctive aim was to combine the highest military standards with an entirely different set of virtues. These were gentleness, generosity, and selflessness toward people outside the military and defenseless people generally. Chivalry also called for special obedience and devotion to women. Women differed from other defenseless groups because they could freely offer great rewards to men who sought their favor. These men tried to earn women’s favor rather than force women into submission. In practice, chivalry fell even further below its ideals than practice usually falls below theory. Yet chivalry remains one of the most precious achievements in humanity’s moral history. A deeply disorganized and troubled society made a remarkable, coordinated, organized attempt to establish and live by a moral ideal. That ideal was far ahead of the society’s conditions and institutions. Indeed, the gap was so great that the attempt completely failed in its main purpose. Yet the attempt was never entirely without effect. It left a very noticeable, and mostly highly valuable, mark on the ideas and feelings of every later age.

The chivalrous ideal is the acme of the influence of women's sentiments on the moral cultivation of mankind: and if women are to remain in their subordinate situation, it were greatly to be lamented that the chivalrous standard should have passed away, for it is the only one at all capable of mitigating the demoralizing influences of that position. But the changes in the general state of the species rendered inevitable the substitution of a totally different ideal of morality for the chivalrous one. Chivalry was the attempt to infuse moral elements into a state of society in which everything depended for good or evil on individual prowess, under the softening influences of individual delicacy and generosity. In modern societies, all things, even in the military department of affairs, are decided, not by individual effort, but by the combined operations of numbers; while the main occupation of society has changed from fighting to business, from military to industrial life. The exigencies of the new life are no more exclusive of the virtues of generosity than those of the old, but it no longer entirely depends on them. The main foundations of the moral life of modern times must be justice and prudence; the respect of each for the rights of every other, and the ability of each to take care of himself. Chivalry left without legal check all forms of wrong which reigned unpunished throughout society; it only encouraged a few to do right in preference to wrong, by the direction it gave to the instruments of praise and admiration. But the real dependence of morality must always be upon its penal sanctions—its power to deter from evil. The security of society cannot rest on merely rendering honour to right, a motive so comparatively weak in all but a few, and which on very many does not operate at all. Modern society is able to repress wrong through all departments of life, by a fit exertion of the superior strength which civilization has given it, and thus to render the existence of the weaker members of society (no longer defenceless but protected by law) tolerable to them, without reliance on the chivalrous feelings of those who are in a position to tyrannize. The beauties and graces of the chivalrous character are still what they were, but the rights of the weak, and the general comfort of human life, now rest on a far surer and steadier support; or rather, they do so in every relation of life except the conjugal.

The ideal of chivalry marks the highest point of women’s feelings shaping humanity’s moral development. And if women are to remain subordinate, the passing of that ideal is deeply regrettable. No other ideal can soften the morally corrupting effects of their subordinate position. But changes in humanity’s general condition made the replacement of chivalry with a completely different moral ideal inevitable. Chivalry tried to introduce moral principles into a society where everything, good or bad, depended on individual strength and skill. It sought to soften that power through personal sensitivity and generosity. In modern societies, everything, even military affairs, is decided not by individual effort but by the coordinated actions of many. Meanwhile, society’s main activity has shifted from fighting to business, from military to industrial life. The demands of this new life are no less compatible with generosity than those of the old. But modern life no longer depends entirely on such virtues. The main foundations of modern moral life must be justice and sound judgment. Each person must respect everyone else’s rights and be able to look after themselves. Chivalry left all the wrongs that went unpunished throughout society without legal restraint. It merely encouraged a few people to choose right over wrong by directing praise and admiration toward good conduct. But morality must always depend ultimately on penalties, on its power to deter wrongdoing. Society’s safety cannot rest merely on honoring good conduct. For all but a few, that motive is relatively weak, and for very many it has no effect at all. Modern society can restrain wrongdoing in every area of life by properly using the greater power civilization has given it. Society can therefore make life tolerable for its weaker members, who are no longer defenseless but protected by law. Their protection need not depend on chivalrous feelings among those in a position to oppress them. The beauty and grace of the chivalrous character remain unchanged. But the rights of the weak, and people’s general comfort in life, now have a much firmer, more reliable foundation. Or rather, they have that foundation in every relationship except marriage.

At present the moral influence of women is no less real, but it is no longer of so marked and definite a character: it has more nearly merged in the general influence of public opinion. Both through the contagion of sympathy, and through the desire of men to shine in the eyes of women, their feelings have great effect in keeping alive what remains of the chivalrous ideal—in fostering the sentiments and continuing the traditions of spirit and generosity. In these points of character, their standard is higher than that of men; in the quality of justice, somewhat lower. As regards the relations of private life it may be said generally, that their influence is, on the whole, encouraging to the softer virtues, discouraging to the sterner: though the statement must be taken with all the modifications dependent on individual character. In the chief of the greater trials to which virtue is subject in the concerns of life—the conflict between interest and principle—the tendency of women's influence is of a very mixed character. When the principle involved happens to be one of the very few which the course of their religious or moral education has strongly impressed upon themselves, they are potent auxiliaries to virtue: and their husbands and sons are often prompted by them to acts of abnegation which they never would have been capable of without that stimulus. But, with the present education and position of women, the moral principles which have been impressed on them cover but a comparatively small part of the field of virtue, and are, moreover, principally negative; forbidding particular acts, but having little to do with the general direction of the thoughts and purposes. I am afraid it must be said, that disinterestedness in the general conduct of life—the devotion of the energies to purposes which hold out no promise of private advantages to the family—is very seldom encouraged or supported by women's influence. It is small blame to them that they discourage objects of which they have not learnt to see the advantage, and which withdraw their men from them, and from the interests of the family. But the consequence is that women's influence is often anything but favourable to public virtue.

Today, women’s moral influence is just as real, but its character is no longer so distinct and definite. It has become more closely absorbed into the general influence of public opinion. Women’s feelings spread through sympathy, and men want to impress women. Through both forces, women do much to keep what remains of the chivalrous ideal alive. They encourage feelings of courage and generosity and sustain the traditions of these qualities. In these qualities, women’s standards are higher than men’s. In justice, their standards are somewhat lower. In private relationships, women’s influence generally encourages the gentler virtues and discourages the sterner ones. But this general statement must allow for all the differences in individual character. One of life’s greatest tests of virtue is the conflict between self-interest and principle. In this conflict, women’s influence has very mixed effects. Sometimes the principle at stake is among the very few firmly instilled in women by their religious or moral education. In such cases, women are powerful allies of virtue. They often inspire their husbands and sons to acts of self-denial that these men could never have managed without such encouragement. But given women’s current education and position, the moral principles instilled in them cover comparatively little of moral life. These principles are also mainly prohibitions. They forbid particular acts but do little to guide the overall direction of thoughts and aims. I am afraid we must say that women’s influence very seldom encourages or supports selflessness in the general conduct of life. By selflessness, I mean devoting energy to goals that offer no prospect of personal benefit to the family. Women deserve little blame for discouraging goals whose value they have not been taught to recognize. Pursuing these goals also draws men away from women and from the family’s interests. But as a result, women’s influence is often far from helpful to virtue in public life.

Women have, however, some share of influence in giving the tone to public moralities since their sphere of action has been a little widened, and since a considerable number of them have occupied themselves practically in the promotion of objects reaching beyond their own family and household. The influence of women counts for a great deal in two of the most marked features of modern European life—its aversion to war, and its addiction to philanthropy. Excellent characteristics both; but unhappily, if the influence of women is valuable in the encouragement it gives to these feelings in general, in the particular applications the direction it gives to them is at least as often mischievous as useful. In the philanthropic department more particularly, the two provinces chiefly cultivated by women are religious proselytism and charity. Religious proselytism at home, is but another word for embittering of religious animosities: abroad, it is usually a blind running at an object, without either knowing or heeding the fatal mischiefs—fatal to the religious object itself as well as to all other desirable objects—which may be produced by the means employed. As for charity, it is a matter in which the immediate effect on the persons directly concerned, and the ultimate consequence to the general good, are apt to be at complete war with one another: while the education given to women—an education of the sentiments rather than of the understanding—and the habit inculcated by their whole life, of looking to immediate effects on persons, and not to remote effects on classes of persons—make them both unable to see, and unwilling to admit, the ultimate evil tendency of any form of charity or philanthropy which commends itself to their sympathetic feelings. The great and continually increasing mass of unenlightened and shortsighted benevolence, which, taking the care of people's lives out of their own hands, and relieving them from the disagreeable consequences of their own acts, saps the very foundations of the self-respect, self-help, and self-control which are the essential conditions both of individual prosperity and of social virtue—this waste of resources and of benevolent feelings in doing harm instead of good, is immensely swelled by women's contributions, and stimulated by their influence. Not that this is a mistake likely to be made by women, where they have actually the practical management of schemes of beneficence. It sometimes happens that women who administer public charities—with that insight into present fact, and especially into the minds and feelings of those with whom they are in immediate contact, in which women generally excel men—recognise in the clearest manner the demoralizing influence of the alms given or the help afforded, and could give lessons on the subject to many a male political economist. But women who only give their money, and are not brought face to face with the effects it produces, how can they be expected to foresee them? A woman born to the present lot of women, and content with it, how should she appreciate the value of self-dependence? She is not self-dependent; she is not taught self-dependence; her destiny is to receive everything from others, and why should what is good enough for her be bad for the poor? Her familiar notions of good are of blessings descending from a superior. She forgets that she is not free, and that the poor are; that if what they need is given to them unearned, they cannot be compelled to earn it: that everybody cannot be taken care of by everybody, but there must be some motive to induce people to take care of themselves; and that to be helped to help themselves, if they are physically capable of it, is the only charity which proves to be charity in the end.

Women now have some influence on public morality, however, since their sphere of activity has widened a little. A considerable number have also become actively involved in causes beyond their own families and households. Women’s influence contributes greatly to two of the most striking features of modern European life: opposition to war and enthusiasm for philanthropy. Both are excellent qualities. But unfortunately, while women’s influence usefully encourages these feelings in general, its practical direction is at least as often harmful as helpful. In philanthropy especially, women focus mainly on two areas: religious conversion and charity. At home, efforts to convert people merely intensify religious hostility. Abroad, such efforts usually pursue their goal blindly. Those involved neither understand nor heed the disastrous harm their methods may cause. That harm may defeat the religious goal itself, as well as every other desirable goal. As for charity, its immediate effects on those directly involved often conflict completely with its eventual effects on the common good. Yet women’s education develops their feelings rather than their understanding. Throughout their lives, women are also taught to consider immediate effects on individuals, rather than long-term effects on groups. These influences make women both unable to see and unwilling to admit the eventual harm certain kinds of charity cause. These are forms of charity or philanthropy that appeal to their sympathy. An enormous and constantly growing amount of well-meaning aid is uninformed and shortsighted. It takes responsibility for people’s lives out of their own hands and shields them from the unpleasant consequences of their actions. In doing so, such aid undermines the very foundations of self-respect, self-reliance, and self-control. These qualities are essential both to individual prosperity and to moral conduct in society. Resources and generous feelings are thus wasted on doing harm instead of good. Women’s contributions enormously increase this waste, and their influence encourages it. Yet women are not likely to make this mistake when they actually manage charitable projects themselves. Women who administer public charities sometimes recognize with complete clarity how the money or help given undermines recipients’ character. They bring insight into the facts before them, especially the thoughts and feelings of people they deal with directly. In these abilities, women generally excel men. Such women could teach many a male political economist about the harmful effects of charity. But other women merely give money and never face the effects of their donations. How can these donors be expected to foresee those effects? How can a woman appreciate the value of independence if she accepts the lot assigned to women today? She is not independent, and she is not taught to be independent. Her appointed role is to receive everything from others. Why, then, should what is good enough for her be bad for the poor? Her familiar idea of good is that blessings come down from someone above her. She forgets that she is not free, while the poor are. If the poor receive what they need without earning it, they cannot be forced to earn it. She forgets that everyone cannot be looked after by everyone else. People must have some motive to look after themselves. And she forgets that, for those physically capable of helping themselves, only help that enables self-help proves truly charitable in the end.

These considerations show how usefully the part which women take in the formation of general opinion, would be modified for the better by that more enlarged instruction, and practical conversancy with the things which their opinions influence, that would necessarily arise from their social and political emancipation. But the improvement it would work through the influence they exercise, each in her own family, would be still more remarkable.

These considerations show how broader education and practical experience would improve women's role in shaping public opinion. Such experience would concern the matters their opinions influence. Women's social and political emancipation would necessarily bring this education and experience. But emancipation would bring even greater improvements through the influence each woman exercises within her own family.

It is often said that in the classes most exposed to temptation, a man's wife and children tend to keep him honest and respectable, both by the wife's direct influence, and by the concern he feels for their future welfare. This may be so, and no doubt often is so, with those who are more weak than wicked; and this beneficial influence would be preserved and strengthened under equal laws; it does not depend on the woman's servitude, but is, on the contrary, diminished by the disrespect which the inferior class of men always at heart feel towards those who are subject to their power. But when we ascend higher in the scale, we come among a totally different set of moving forces. The wife's influence tends, as far as it goes, to prevent the husband from falling below the common standard of approbation of the country. It tends quite as strongly to hinder him from rising above it. The wife is the auxiliary of the common public opinion. A man who is married to a woman his inferior in intelligence, finds her a perpetual dead weight, or, worse than a dead weight, a drag, upon every aspiration of his to be better than public opinion requires him to be. It is hardly possible for one who is in these bonds, to attain exalted virtue. If he differs in his opinion from the mass—if he sees truths which have not yet dawned upon them, or if, feeling in his heart truths which they nominally recognise, he would like to act up to those truths more conscientiously than the generality of mankind—to all such thoughts and desires, marriage is the heaviest of drawbacks, unless he be so fortunate as to have a wife as much above the common level as he himself is.

People often say that a wife and children help keep a man honest and respectable among those most exposed to temptation. They do so through the wife’s direct influence and the man’s concern for his family’s future welfare. This may be true, and undoubtedly often is, of men who are more weak than wicked. Equal laws would preserve and strengthen this beneficial influence. It does not depend on the woman’s subordination. On the contrary, her influence is weakened by the disrespect that inferior men always secretly feel toward those under their power. But as we move higher up the scale, we encounter an entirely different set of motives. A wife’s influence, as far as it reaches, tends to keep her husband from falling below society’s accepted standard. It tends just as strongly to prevent him from rising above that standard. The wife reinforces prevailing public opinion. A man married to a woman less intelligent than himself finds her a constant burden on his higher ambitions. Worse still, she actively holds him back whenever he aspires to be better than public opinion requires. A man in such a marriage can hardly achieve the highest moral excellence. He may disagree with the majority or see truths that others have not yet grasped. Or he may deeply feel truths that others acknowledge only in name. He may therefore want to live by those truths more conscientiously than most people do. Marriage is the greatest obstacle to all such thoughts and desires, unless he is fortunate in his wife. She must be as far above the common level as he is.

For, in the first place, there is always some sacrifice of personal interest required; either of social consequence, or of pecuniary means; perhaps the risk of even the means of subsistence. These sacrifices and risks he may be willing to encounter for himself; but he will pause before he imposes them on his family. And his family in this case means his wife and daughters; for he always hopes that his sons will feel as he feels himself, and that what he can do without, they will do without, willingly, in the same cause. But his daughters—their marriage may depend upon it: and his wife, who is unable to enter into or understand the objects for which these sacrifices are made—who, if she thought them worth any sacrifice, would think so on trust, and solely for his sake—who can participate in none of the enthusiasm or the self-approbation he himself may feel, while the things which he is disposed to sacrifice are all in all to her; will not the best and most unselfish man hesitate the longest before bringing on her this consequence? If it be not the comforts of life, but only social consideration, that is at stake, the burthen upon his conscience and feelings is still very severe. Whoever has a wife and children has given hostages to Mrs. Grundy. The approbation of that potentate may be a matter of indifference to him, but it is of great importance to his wife. The man himself may be above opinion, or may find sufficient compensation in the opinion of those of his own way of thinking. But to the women connected with him, he can offer no compensation. The almost invariable tendency of the wife to place her influence in the same scale with social consideration, is sometimes made a reproach to women, and represented as a peculiar trait of feebleness and childishness of character in them: surely with great injustice. Society makes the whole life of a woman, in the easy classes, a continued self-sacrifice; it exacts from her an unremitting restraint of the whole of her natural inclinations, and the sole return it makes to her for what often deserves the name of a martyrdom, is consideration. Her consideration is inseparably connected with that of her husband, and after paying the full price for it, she finds that she is to lose it, for no reason of which she can feel the cogency. She has sacrificed her whole life to it, and her husband will not sacrifice to it a whim, a freak, an eccentricity; something not recognised or allowed for by the world, and which the world will agree with her in thinking a folly, if it thinks no worse! The dilemma is hardest upon that very meritorious class of men, who, without possessing talents which qualify them to make a figure among those with whom they agree in opinion, hold their opinion from conviction, and feel bound in honour and conscience to serve it, by making profession of their belief, and giving their time, labour, and means, to anything undertaken in its behalf. The worst case of all is when such men happen to be of a rank and position which of itself neither gives them, nor excludes them from, what is considered the best society; when their admission to it depends mainly on what is thought of them personally—and however unexceptionable their breeding and habits, their being identified with opinions and public conduct unacceptable to those who give the tone to society would operate as an effectual exclusion. Many a woman flatters herself (nine times out of ten quite erroneously) that nothing prevents her and her husband from moving in the highest society of her neighbourhood—society in which others well known to her, and in the same class of life, mix freely—except that her husband is unfortunately a Dissenter, or has the reputation of mingling in low radical politics. That it is, she thinks, which hinders George from getting a commission or a place, Caroline from making an advantageous match, and prevents her and her husband from obtaining invitations, perhaps honours, which, for aught she sees, they are as well entitled to as some folks. With such an influence in every house, either exerted actively, or operating all the more powerfully for not being asserted, is it any wonder that people in general are kept down in that mediocrity of respectability which is becoming a marked characteristic of modern times?

For, in the first place, some personal sacrifice is always required, whether of social standing or money. Perhaps even his livelihood is at risk. A man may be willing to face these sacrifices and risks himself. But he will hesitate before imposing them on his family. And here his family means his wife and daughters. For he always hopes his sons will feel as he does. He hopes they will willingly give up whatever he can give up for the same cause. But his daughters’ chances of marriage may depend on what he sacrifices. And his wife cannot share or understand the aims behind these sacrifices. If she thought those aims worth any sacrifice, she would do so on trust, solely for his sake. She can share none of his enthusiasm or satisfaction with his own conduct. Yet the things he is prepared to sacrifice mean everything to her. Would not the best and most unselfish man hesitate longest before making her suffer these consequences? Even if only social standing is at stake, rather than life’s comforts, his conscience and feelings still bear a heavy burden. Whoever has a wife and children has given hostages to Mrs. Grundy, the guardian of social respectability. Her approval may mean nothing to him, but it matters greatly to his wife. The man himself may rise above public opinion. Or he may find enough comfort in the approval of people who share his views. But he can offer no such comfort to the women connected with him. A wife almost always uses her influence to support social respectability. Women are sometimes blamed for this tendency, as though it revealed a particular weakness and childishness in their character. Surely this blame is deeply unjust. Society makes a woman’s whole life in the comfortable classes one continuous act of self-sacrifice. It demands that she constantly restrain all her natural inclinations. Her life often deserves to be called a martyrdom, yet society rewards her only with respectability. Her respectability is inseparable from her husband’s. After paying the full price for respectability, she finds she must lose it for reasons she cannot find convincing. She has sacrificed her whole life for respectability. Yet her husband will not sacrifice a whim, a passing fancy, an eccentricity to preserve it. His conduct is something the world neither accepts nor makes allowances for. And the world will agree with her in calling his conduct foolish, if not worse! This dilemma is hardest on a particularly worthy class of men. They lack the talents needed to stand out among people who share their views. Yet they hold those views from conviction and feel bound by honour and conscience to serve their cause. They do so by openly declaring their beliefs and giving time, labour, and money to anything undertaken for their cause. The worst case is when their rank and position neither admit them to nor exclude them from the best society. Their admission then depends mainly on what people think of them personally. Their manners and habits may be beyond reproach. But their association with unpopular opinions and public actions would effectively exclude them. Those opinions and actions need only offend the people who set society’s standards. Many a woman imagines that only one thing keeps her and her husband out of her neighbourhood’s highest society. Nine times out of ten, she is quite mistaken. She knows others of the same social class who mix freely in those circles. But her husband is unfortunately a Dissenter, a Protestant outside the established Church, or is known for involvement in low-status radical politics. She thinks his religion or politics keeps George from getting a military commission or a job. She thinks the same obstacle keeps Caroline from making an advantageous marriage. And she thinks it keeps herself and her husband from receiving invitations, perhaps even honours. As far as she can see, they deserve these distinctions as much as certain other people do. Such influence exists in every home. Sometimes it is actively exerted, and sometimes it works all the more powerfully because it remains unspoken. Is it any wonder, then, that people generally are held down in a respectable mediocrity? That mediocrity is becoming a defining feature of modern times.

There is another very injurious aspect in which the effect, not of women's disabilities directly, but of the broad line of difference which those disabilities create between the education and character of a woman and that of a man, requires to be considered. Nothing can be more unfavourable to that union of thoughts and inclinations which is the ideal of married life. Intimate society between people radically dissimilar to one another, is an idle dream. Unlikeness may attract, but it is likeness which retains; and in proportion to the likeness is the suitability of the individuals to give each other a happy life. While women are so unlike men, it is not wonderful that selfish men should feel the need of arbitrary power in their own hands, to arrest in limine the life-long conflict of inclinations, by deciding every question on the side of their own preference. When people are extremely unlike, there can be no real identity of interest. Very often there is conscientious difference of opinion between married people, on the highest points of duty. Is there any reality in the marriage union where this takes place? Yet it is not uncommon anywhere, when the woman has any earnestness of character; and it is a very general case indeed in Catholic countries, when she is supported in her dissent by the only other authority to which she is taught to bow, the priest. With the usual barefacedness of power not accustomed to find itself disputed, the influence of priests over women is attacked by Protestant and Liberal writers, less for being bad in itself, than because it is a rival authority to the husband, and raises up a revolt against his infallibility. In England, similar differences occasionally exist when an Evangelical wife has allied herself with a husband of a different quality; but in general this source at least of dissension is got rid of, by reducing the minds of women to such a nullity, that they have no opinions but those of Mrs. Grundy, or those which the husband tells them to have. When there is no difference of opinion, differences merely of taste may be sufficient to detract greatly from the happiness of married life. And though it may stimulate the amatory propensities of men, it does not conduce to married happiness, to exaggerate by differences of education whatever may be the native differences of the sexes. If the married pair are well-bred and well-behaved people, they tolerate each other's tastes; but is mutual toleration what people look forward to, when they enter into marriage? These differences of inclination will naturally make their wishes different, if not restrained by affection or duty, as to almost all domestic questions which arise. What a difference there must be in the society which the two persons will wish to frequent, or be frequented by! Each will desire associates who share their own tastes: the persons agreeable to one, will be indifferent or positively disagreeable to the other; yet there can be none who are not common to both, for married people do not now live in different parts of the house and have totally different visiting lists, as in the reign of Louis XV. They cannot help having different wishes as to the bringing up of the children: each will wish to see reproduced in them their own tastes and sentiments: and there is either a compromise, and only a half-satisfaction to either, or the wife has to yield—often with bitter suffering; and, with or without intention, her occult influence continues to counterwork the husband's purposes.

There is another deeply harmful effect to consider. It comes not directly from the restrictions placed on women, but from the sharp differences those restrictions create. These differences separate women’s education and character from men’s. Nothing could be worse for the shared thoughts and desires that make up the ideal of married life. Close companionship between fundamentally different people is an empty dream. Differences may attract, but similarities keep people together. The more alike two people are, the better suited they are to make each other happy. While women remain so unlike men, it is no wonder that selfish men feel they need unchecked power. They want to stop a lifelong conflict of desires before it begins by deciding every question in their own favor. When people are extremely different, their interests cannot truly be the same. Married people very often disagree, as a matter of conscience, about their most important duties. Is their marriage a real union when such disagreements exist? Yet such disagreements are not uncommon anywhere when the woman has any seriousness of character. They are very common indeed in Catholic countries. There, the wife’s disagreement is supported by the priest, the only other authority she is taught to obey. Protestant and Liberal writers attack priests’ influence over women with the usual shamelessness of power unaccustomed to being challenged. They object less because that influence is bad in itself than because it rivals the husband’s authority. It encourages rebellion against his supposed inability to be wrong. In England, similar disagreements sometimes arise when an Evangelical wife has married a husband of a different kind. But generally, at least this source of conflict is removed by reducing women’s minds to nothing. They have no opinions except those of Mrs. Grundy, the voice of social convention, or those their husbands prescribe. Even without disagreements over opinions, differences in taste alone may greatly reduce happiness in marriage. Exaggerating whatever natural differences may exist between the sexes through different educations may stimulate men’s sexual desires. But doing so does not promote happiness in marriage. If the couple are well brought up and well behaved, they tolerate each other’s tastes. But is mutual tolerance what people look forward to when they marry? Unless affection or duty restrains these differences in taste, the couple will naturally want different things on almost every household question. How different their wishes must be about whose company to seek and whom to receive at home! Each will want companions who share their own tastes. People whom one enjoys will leave the other indifferent or be positively unpleasant to the other. Yet all their acquaintances must be shared. Married people no longer live in separate parts of the house with entirely different visiting lists, as under Louis XV. The couple cannot help wanting different things for their children’s upbringing. Each will want the children to reflect their own tastes and feelings. Either they compromise, leaving each only half satisfied, or the wife must give way, often with bitter suffering. And whether intentionally or not, her hidden influence continues to work against her husband’s aims.

It would of course be extreme folly to suppose that these differences of feeling and inclination only exist because women are brought up differently from men, and that there would not be differences of taste under any imaginable circumstances. But there is nothing beyond the mark in saying that the distinction in bringing-up immensely aggravates those differences, and renders them wholly inevitable. While women are brought up as they are, a man and a woman will but rarely find in one another real agreement of tastes and wishes as to daily life. They will generally have to give it up as hopeless, and renounce the attempt to have, in the intimate associate of their daily life, that idem velle, idem nolle, which is the recognised bond of any society that is really such: or if the man succeeds in obtaining it, he does so by choosing a woman who is so complete a nullity that she has no velle or nolle at all, and is as ready to comply with one thing as another if anybody tells her to do so. Even this calculation is apt to fail; dulness and want of spirit are not always a guarantee of the submission which is so confidently expected from them. But if they were, is this the ideal of marriage? What, in this case, does the man obtain by it, except an upper servant, a nurse, or a mistress? On the contrary, when each of two persons, instead of being a nothing, is a something; when they are attached to one another, and are not too much unlike to begin with; the constant partaking in the same things, assisted by their sympathy, draws out the latent capacities of each for being interested in the things which were at first interesting only to the other; and works a gradual assimilation of the tastes and characters to one another, partly by the insensible modification of each, but more by a real enriching of the two natures, each acquiring the tastes and capacities of the other in addition to its own. This often happens between two friends of the same sex, who are much associated in their daily life: and it would be a common, if not the commonest, case in marriage, did not the totally different bringing-up of the two sexes make it next to an impossibility to form a really well-assorted union. Were this remedied, whatever differences there might still be in individual tastes, there would at least be, as a general rule, complete unity and unanimity as to the great objects of life. When the two persons both care for great objects, and are a help and encouragement to each other in whatever regards these, the minor matters on which their tastes may differ are not all-important to them; and there is a foundation for solid friendship, of an enduring character, more likely than anything else to make it, through the whole of life, a greater pleasure to each to give pleasure to the other, than to receive it.

Of course, it would be foolish to suppose these differences in feelings and inclinations exist only because women are raised differently. It would be equally foolish to suppose that no differences in taste would exist under any imaginable circumstances. But it is no exaggeration to say that different upbringings greatly increase these differences and make them entirely unavoidable. As long as women are raised as they are, men and women will rarely agree about everyday tastes and wishes. They will generally abandon the hope of finding such agreement in the person who shares their daily life. They will give up seeking the same desires and dislikes, the recognized bond of any genuine partnership. Or a man may secure this agreement by choosing a woman so completely without personality that she has no desires or dislikes at all. She is equally ready to do anything anyone tells her to do. Even this strategy is likely to fail. Dullness and lack of spirit do not always guarantee the obedience so confidently expected from them. But even if they did, is this the ideal of marriage? What does the man gain from such a marriage, except a senior servant, a nurse, or a mistress? The opposite happens when both people have personalities of their own, rather than being nobodies. They must also care for each other and not be too different to begin with. Constantly sharing activities, helped by their mutual sympathy, brings out each person's hidden capacity to share the other's interests. Their tastes and characters gradually grow more alike. This happens partly through subtle changes in each person, but more through a genuine enrichment of both personalities. Each gains the other's tastes and abilities while keeping their own. This often happens between two friends of the same sex who spend much of their daily lives together. Such mutual growth would be common in marriage, perhaps even the most common experience. But the completely different upbringing of men and women makes a truly well-matched marriage almost impossible. If this difference in upbringing were corrected, individual tastes might still differ. But couples would generally be completely united in their major aims in life. When both people care about important aims, they help and encourage each other in pursuing those aims. The smaller matters on which their tastes differ are then not all-important to them. Their shared aims provide a foundation for a strong, lasting friendship. More than anything else, such a friendship is likely to make giving pleasure more satisfying than receiving it. Throughout their lives, each would take greater pleasure in making the other happy than in being made happy themselves.

I have considered, thus far, the effects on the pleasures and benefits of the marriage union which depend on the mere unlikeness between the wife and the husband: but the evil tendency is prodigiously aggravated when the unlikeness is inferiority. Mere unlikeness, when it only means difference of good qualities, may be more a benefit in the way of mutual improvement, than a drawback from comfort. When each emulates, and desires and endeavours to acquire, the other's peculiar qualities, the difference does not produce diversity of interest, but increased identity of it, and makes each still more valuable to the other. But when one is much the inferior of the two in mental ability and cultivation, and is not actively attempting by the other's aid to rise to the other's level, the whole influence of the connexion upon the development of the superior of the two is deteriorating: and still more so in a tolerably happy marriage than in an unhappy one. It is not with impunity that the superior in intellect shuts himself up with an inferior, and elects that inferior for his chosen, and sole completely intimate, associate. Any society which is not improving, is deteriorating: and the more so, the closer and more familiar it is. Even a really superior man almost always begins to deteriorate when he is habitually (as the phrase is) king of his company: and in his most habitual company the husband who has a wife inferior to him is always so. While his self-satisfaction is incessantly ministered to on the one hand, on the other he insensibly imbibes the modes of feeling, and of looking at things, which belong to a more vulgar or a more limited mind than his own. This evil differs from many of those which have hitherto been dwelt on, by being an increasing one. The association of men with women in daily life is much closer and more complete than it ever was before. Men's life is more domestic. Formerly, their pleasures and chosen occupations were among men, and in men's company: their wives had but a fragment of their lives. At the present time, the progress of civilization, and the turn of opinion against the rough amusements and convivial excesses which formerly occupied most men in their hours of relaxation—together with (it must be said) the improved tone of modern feeling as to the reciprocity of duty which binds the husband towards the wife—have thrown the man very much more upon home and its inmates, for his personal and social pleasures: while the kind and degree of improvement which has been made in women's education, has made them in some degree capable of being his companions in ideas and mental tastes, while leaving them, in most cases, still hopelessly inferior to him. His desire of mental communion is thus in general satisfied by a communion from which he learns nothing. An unimproving and unstimulating companionship is substituted for (what he might otherwise have been obliged to seek) the society of his equals in powers and his fellows in the higher pursuits. We see, accordingly, that young men of the greatest promise generally cease to improve as soon as they marry, and, not improving, inevitably degenerate. If the wife does not push the husband forward, she always holds him back. He ceases to care for what she does not care for; he no longer desires, and ends by disliking and shunning, society congenial to his former aspirations, and which would now shame his falling-off from them; his higher faculties both of mind and heart cease to be called into activity. And this change coinciding with the new and selfish interests which are created by the family, after a few years he differs in no material respect from those who have never had wishes for anything but the common vanities and the common pecuniary objects.

So far, I have considered how differences between wife and husband affect the pleasures and benefits of marriage. But the harm becomes far greater when those differences mean that one is inferior to the other. When the differences are simply differences in good qualities, they may help both partners improve more than they reduce comfort. Each may admire the other’s distinctive qualities and want and try to acquire them. When both do so, their differences bring their interests closer together rather than pulling them apart. Each becomes still more valuable to the other. But suppose one partner has much less intellectual ability and education than the other. Suppose, too, that the less accomplished partner is not actively trying, with the other’s help, to reach the same level. Then the relationship’s entire influence on the more accomplished partner’s development is harmful. The harm is even greater in a reasonably happy marriage than in an unhappy one. An intellectually superior person cannot shut himself away with an inferior companion without paying a price. He pays that price when he chooses that person as his closest companion and his only fully intimate one. Companionship that does not help us improve makes us worse. The closer and more familiar the companionship, the greater the harm. Even a truly superior man almost always begins to decline when he is habitually, as people say, king of his company. A husband whose wife is inferior to him always holds that position in the company he keeps most often. On one side, his self-satisfaction is constantly fed. On the other, he gradually absorbs the feelings and outlook of a coarser or narrower mind than his own. Unlike many of the harms discussed so far, this harm is increasing. Men and women now share daily life much more closely and fully than ever before. Men’s lives are more centered on the home. Formerly, men sought their pleasures and chosen activities among other men. Their wives shared only a small part of their lives. Since then, civilization has advanced. Public opinion has turned against rough amusements and excessive drinking. Such activities once filled most men’s leisure hours. Modern attitudes have also improved, it must be said, toward the mutual duties that bind husbands and wives. Together, these changes have made men depend much more on home and family for their personal and social pleasures. Meanwhile, improvements in women’s education have made women somewhat capable of sharing their husbands’ ideas and intellectual interests. Yet the kind and extent of those improvements still leave women, in most cases, hopelessly inferior to their husbands. A husband’s desire for intellectual companionship is therefore generally satisfied by a relationship from which he learns nothing. He settles for companionship that neither develops nor stimulates his mind. Otherwise, he might have had to seek people with equal abilities who shared his higher pursuits. Accordingly, we see that the most promising young men generally stop improving as soon as they marry. And because they stop improving, they inevitably decline. If a wife does not push her husband forward, she always holds him back. He stops caring about what she does not care about. He no longer wants the company of people who share his former aspirations. Eventually, he dislikes and avoids their company, which would now shame him by revealing how far he has fallen. His higher powers of both mind and heart are no longer put to use. At the same time, family life creates new, selfish interests. After a few years, he is no different in any important way from people who never aspired to anything higher. They have only ever wanted the usual vanities and financial rewards.

What marriage may be in the case of two persons of cultivated faculties, identical in opinions and purposes, between whom there exists that best kind of equality, similarity of powers and capacities with reciprocal superiority in them—so that each can enjoy the luxury of looking up to the other, and can have alternately the pleasure of leading and of being led in the path of development—I will not attempt to describe. To those who can conceive it, there is no need; to those who cannot, it would appear the dream of an enthusiast. But I maintain, with the profoundest conviction, that this, and this only, is the ideal of marriage; and that all opinions, customs, and institutions which favour any other notion of it, or turn the conceptions and aspirations connected with it into any other direction, by whatever pretences they may be coloured, are relics of primitive barbarism. The moral regeneration of mankind will only really commence, when the most fundamental of the social relations is placed under the rule of equal justice, and when human beings learn to cultivate their strongest sympathy with an equal in rights and in cultivation.

I will not try to describe what marriage may be between two people with well-developed minds and abilities. They share the same opinions and aims, and enjoy the best kind of equality. Their powers and abilities are similar, yet each excels in areas where the other does not. So each can enjoy the luxury of looking up to the other. Each can take turns enjoying the pleasure of leading and being led as they grow. Those who can imagine such a marriage need no description. To those who cannot, such a marriage would seem like an idealist’s dream. But I believe with the deepest conviction that this, and only this, is the ideal of marriage. All opinions, customs, and institutions that support any other view of marriage are remnants of primitive barbarism. So are all those that direct people’s ideas and hopes about marriage toward any other ideal, whatever their supposed justifications. Humanity’s moral renewal will only truly begin when the most fundamental social relationship is governed by equal justice. People must also learn to develop their deepest bond with someone who is their equal in rights and personal development.

Thus far, the benefits which it has appeared that the world would gain by ceasing to make sex a disqualification for privileges and a badge of subjection, are social rather than individual; consisting in an increase of the general fund of thinking and acting power, and an improvement in the general conditions of the association of men with women. But it would be a grievous understatement of the case to omit the most direct benefit of all, the unspeakable gain in private happiness to the liberated half of the species; the difference to them between a life of subjection to the will of others, and a life of rational freedom. After the primary necessities of food and raiment, freedom is the first and strongest want of human nature. While mankind are lawless, their desire is for lawless freedom. When they have learnt to understand the meaning of duty and the value of reason, they incline more and more to be guided and restrained by these in the exercise of their freedom; but they do not therefore desire freedom less; they do not become disposed to accept the will of other people as the representative and interpreter of those guiding principles. On the contrary, the communities in which the reason has been most cultivated, and in which the idea of social duty has been most powerful, are those which have most strongly asserted the freedom of action of the individual—the liberty of each to govern his conduct by his own feelings of duty, and by such laws and social restraints as his own conscience can subscribe to.

So far, the benefits described have been social rather than individual. The world would gain these benefits by no longer making sex a barrier to privileges or a mark of subordination. Society would have more intellectual and practical ability to draw on. Relations between men and women would also improve. But leaving out the most direct benefit would seriously understate the case. The half of humanity freed from subordination would gain more personal happiness than words can express. For women, this means the difference between living under others’ control and living in freedom guided by reason. After the basic needs for food and clothing, freedom is human nature’s first and strongest need. When people live without law, they want freedom without law. As people come to understand duty and value reason, they increasingly accept duty and reason as guides and limits on freedom. But they do not want freedom any less. Nor do they become willing to let other people’s wishes stand for and interpret those guiding principles. On the contrary, societies that have developed reason most fully, and felt social duty most strongly, have most firmly defended individual freedom. This means each person’s freedom to act according to their own sense of duty. It also means being bound by laws and social limits only when their own conscience can accept them.

He who would rightly appreciate the worth of personal independence as an element of happiness, should consider the value he himself puts upon it as an ingredient of his own. There is no subject on which there is a greater habitual difference of judgment between a man judging for himself, and the same man judging for other people. When he hears others complaining that they are not allowed freedom of action—that their own will has not sufficient influence in the regulation of their affairs—his inclination is, to ask, what are their grievances? what positive damage they sustain? and in what respect they consider their affairs to be mismanaged? and if they fail to make out, in answer to these questions, what appears to him a sufficient case, he turns a deaf ear, and regards their complaint as the fanciful querulousness of people whom nothing reasonable will satisfy. But he has a quite different standard of judgment when he is deciding for himself. Then, the most unexceptionable administration of his interests by a tutor set over him, does not satisfy his feelings: his personal exclusion from the deciding authority appears itself the greatest grievance of all, rendering it superfluous even to enter into the question of mismanagement. It is the same with nations. What citizen of a free country would listen to any offers of good and skilful administration, in return for the abdication of freedom? Even if he could believe that good and skilful administration can exist among a people ruled by a will not their own, would not the consciousness of working out their own destiny under their own moral responsibility be a compensation to his feelings for great rudeness and imperfection in the details of public affairs? Let him rest assured that whatever he feels on this point, women feel in a fully equal degree. Whatever has been said or written, from the time of Herodotus to the present, of the ennobling influence of free government—the nerve and spring which it gives to all the faculties, the larger and higher objects which it presents to the intellect and feelings, the more unselfish public spirit, and calmer and broader views of duty, that it engenders, and the generally loftier platform on which it elevates the individual as a moral, spiritual, and social being—is every particle as true of women as of men. Are these things no important part of individual happiness? Let any man call to mind what he himself felt on emerging from boyhood—from the tutelage and control of even loved and affectionate elders—and entering upon the responsibilities of manhood. Was it not like the physical effect of taking off a heavy weight, or releasing him from obstructive, even if not otherwise painful, bonds? Did he not feel twice as much alive, twice as much a human being, as before? And does he imagine that women have none of these feelings? But it is a striking fact, that the satisfactions and mortifications of personal pride, though all in all to most men when the case is their own, have less allowance made for them in the case of other people, and are less listened to as a ground or a justification of conduct, than any other natural human feelings; perhaps because men compliment them in their own case with the names of so many other qualities, that they are seldom conscious how mighty an influence these feelings exercise in their own lives. No less large and powerful is their part, we may assure ourselves, in the lives and feelings of women. Women are schooled into suppressing them in their most natural and most healthy direction, but the internal principle remains, in a different outward form. An active and energetic mind, if denied liberty, will seek for power: refused the command of itself, it will assert its personality by attempting to control others. To allow to any human beings no existence of their own but what depends on others, is giving far too high a premium on bending others to their purposes. Where liberty cannot be hoped for, and power can, power becomes the grand object of human desire; those to whom others will not leave the undisturbed management of their own affairs, will compensate themselves, if they can, by meddling for their own purposes with the affairs of others. Hence also women's passion for personal beauty, and dress and display; and all the evils that flow from it, in the way of mischievous luxury and social immorality. The love of power and the love of liberty are in eternal antagonism. Where there is least liberty, the passion for power is the most ardent and unscrupulous. The desire of power over others can only cease to be a depraving agency among mankind, when each of them individually is able to do without it: which can only be where respect for liberty in the personal concerns of each is an established principle.

Anyone who wants to understand how much personal independence contributes to happiness should consider its value in his own life. On no other subject do people judge so differently for themselves and for others. A man hears others complain that they are denied freedom of action. They say their own wishes have too little influence over their affairs. His impulse is to ask what their grievances are. What actual harm do they suffer? In what ways do they think their affairs are mismanaged? If their answers do not seem convincing enough to him, he refuses to listen. He dismisses their complaints as imaginary grievances from people whom nothing reasonable will satisfy. But he applies a very different standard to himself. Even faultless management of his interests by a guardian placed over him does not satisfy him. Being excluded from decisions seems the greatest grievance of all. Whether his affairs are mismanaged does not even need to be discussed. The same is true of nations. What citizen of a free country would consider giving up freedom in exchange for good, skilled government? Suppose he could believe such government possible for a people ruled by someone else's will. Wouldn't shaping their own destiny, under their own moral responsibility, make up for great shortcomings in public affairs? He can be sure that women feel just as strongly about this as he does. From the time of Herodotus to the present, much has been said and written about how free government ennobles people. It gives strength and energy to all their abilities. It offers greater and higher aims for their minds and feelings. It creates a less selfish public spirit and calmer, broader views of duty. Overall, it raises individuals to a higher level as moral, spiritual, and social beings. Every word of this is as true of women as of men. Are these benefits not an important part of individual happiness? Let any man remember how he felt when he left boyhood behind and took on the responsibilities of manhood. He was leaving the supervision and control of his elders, even those he loved and who loved him. Wasn't it like having a heavy weight lifted from his body? Wasn't it like being freed from restraints that hindered him, even if they caused no other pain? Didn't he feel twice as alive, twice as human, as before? Does he imagine that women have none of these feelings? Yet there is a striking fact about the pleasures and humiliations of personal pride. To most men, these feelings mean everything when their own pride is involved. But they make less allowance for these feelings in others than for any other natural human feeling. They are less willing to accept pride as a reason or justification for other people's behavior. Perhaps men give their own pride the flattering names of so many other qualities that they seldom recognize its power. They seldom see how strongly these feelings shape their own lives. We can be sure that these feelings play just as large and powerful a role in women's lives. Women are trained to suppress these feelings in their most natural and healthy form. But the underlying impulse remains, taking a different outward form. An active, energetic mind denied freedom will seek power. Denied control over itself, it will assert its individuality by trying to control others. Giving people no independent existence, only one dependent on others, creates far too strong an incentive to manipulate others. Where freedom offers no hope but power does, power becomes the great object of human desire. People denied undisturbed control over their own affairs will seek compensation, if they can. They will interfere in other people's affairs for their own purposes. This also explains women's passion for personal beauty, clothing, and display. It explains all the resulting evils of harmful extravagance and social immorality. The love of power and the love of freedom are always opposed. Where freedom is most limited, the passion for power is strongest and least restrained by moral principles. The desire for power over others can stop corrupting humanity only when every individual can do without that power. That is possible only when respect for everyone's freedom in personal affairs becomes an established principle.

But it is not only through the sentiment of personal dignity, that the free direction and disposal of their own faculties is a source of individual happiness, and to be fettered and restricted in it, a source of unhappiness, to human beings, and not least to women. There is nothing, after disease, indigence, and guilt, so fatal to the pleasurable enjoyment of life as the want of a worthy outlet for the active faculties. Women who have the cares of a family, and while they have the cares of a family, have this outlet, and it generally suffices for them: but what of the greatly increasing number of women, who have had no opportunity of exercising the vocation which they are mocked by telling them is their proper one? What of the women whose children have been lost to them by death or distance, or have grown up, married, and formed homes of their own? There are abundant examples of men who, after a life engrossed by business, retire with a competency to the enjoyment, as they hope, of rest, but to whom, as they are unable to acquire new interests and excitements that can replace the old, the change to a life of inactivity brings ennui, melancholy, and premature death. Yet no one thinks of the parallel case of so many worthy and devoted women, who, having paid what they are told is their debt to society—having brought up a family blamelessly to manhood and womanhood—having kept a house as long as they had a house needing to be kept—are deserted by the sole occupation for which they have fitted themselves; and remain with undiminished activity but with no employment for it, unless perhaps a daughter or daughter-in-law is willing to abdicate in their favour the discharge of the same functions in her younger household. Surely a hard lot for the old age of those who have worthily discharged, as long as it was given to them to discharge, what the world accounts their only social duty. Of such women, and of those others to whom this duty has not been committed at all—many of whom pine through life with the consciousness of thwarted vocations, and activities which are not suffered to expand—the only resources, speaking generally, are religion and charity. But their religion, though it may be one of feeling, and of ceremonial observance, cannot be a religion of action, unless in the form of charity. For charity many of them are by nature admirably fitted; but to practise it usefully, or even without doing mischief, requires the education, the manifold preparation, the knowledge and the thinking powers, of a skilful administrator. There are few of the administrative functions of government for which a person would not be fit, who is fit to bestow charity usefully. In this as in other cases (pre-eminently in that of the education of children), the duties permitted to women cannot be performed properly, without their being trained for duties which, to the great loss of society, are not permitted to them. And here let me notice the singular way in which the question of women's disabilities is frequently presented to view, by those who find it easier to draw a ludicrous picture of what they do not like, than to answer the arguments for it. When it is suggested that women's executive capacities and prudent counsels might sometimes be found valuable in affairs of state, these lovers of fun hold up to the ridicule of the world, as sitting in parliament or in the cabinet, girls in their teens, or young wives of two or three and twenty, transported bodily, exactly as they are, from the drawing-room to the House of Commons. They forget that males are not usually selected at this early age for a seat in Parliament, or for responsible political functions. Common sense would tell them that if such trusts were confided to women, it would be to such as having no special vocation for married life, or preferring another employment of their faculties (as many women even now prefer to marriage some of the few honourable occupations within their reach), have spent the best years of their youth in attempting to qualify themselves for the pursuits in which they desire to engage; or still more frequently perhaps, widows or wives of forty or fifty, by whom the knowledge of life and faculty of government which they have acquired in their families, could by the aid of appropriate studies be made available on a less contracted scale. There is no country of Europe in which the ablest men have not frequently experienced, and keenly appreciated, the value of the advice and help of clever and experienced women of the world, in the attainment both of private and of public objects; and there are important matters of public administration to which few men are equally competent with such women; among others, the detailed control of expenditure. But what we are now discussing is not the need which society has of the services of women in public business, but the dull and hopeless life to which it so often condemns them, by forbidding them to exercise the practical abilities which many of them are conscious of, in any wider field than one which to some of them never was, and to others is no longer, open. If there is anything vitally important to the happiness of human beings, it is that they should relish their habitual pursuit. This requisite of an enjoyable life is very imperfectly granted, or altogether denied, to a large part of mankind; and by its absence many a life is a failure, which is provided, in appearance, with every requisite of success. But if circumstances which society is not yet skilful enough to overcome, render such failures often for the present inevitable, society need not itself inflict them. The injudiciousness of parents, a youth's own inexperience, or the absence of external opportunities for the congenial vocation, and their presence for an uncongenial, condemn numbers of men to pass their lives in doing one thing reluctantly and ill, when there are other things which they could have done well and happily. But on women this sentence is imposed by actual law, and by customs equivalent to law. What, in unenlightened societies, colour, race, religion, or in the case of a conquered country, nationality, are to some men, sex is to all women; a peremptory exclusion from almost all honourable occupations, but either such as cannot be fulfilled by others, or such as those others do not think worthy of their acceptance. Sufferings arising from causes of this nature usually meet with so little sympathy, that few persons are aware of the great amount of unhappiness even now produced by the feeling of a wasted life. The case will be even more frequent, as increased cultivation creates a greater and greater disproportion between the ideas and faculties of women, and the scope which society allows to their activity.

But personal dignity is not the only reason people find happiness in freely using and directing their own abilities. Nor is it the only reason restrictions on that freedom cause unhappiness, especially for women. Apart from disease, poverty, and guilt, nothing destroys the enjoyment of life more than lacking a worthwhile outlet for one's energies. Women responsible for a family have this outlet for as long as those responsibilities last. Generally, it is enough for them. But what about the rapidly growing number of women who have never had the opportunity to follow that calling? To tell these women that family life is their proper calling is to mock them. What about women whose children have died or moved away, or grown up, married, and established homes of their own? There are countless examples of men who spend their lives absorbed in business, then retire with enough to live on. They hope to enjoy their rest. But they cannot find new interests and stimulation to replace the old ones. Instead, inactivity brings boredom, depression, and an early death. Yet no one considers the similar position of so many good and devoted women. They have paid what they are told is their debt to society. They have raised a family to adulthood without fault. They have managed a home for as long as there was a home to manage. Then they lose the only occupation they have prepared themselves for. Their energy remains undiminished, but they have nothing to use it on. Perhaps a daughter or daughter-in-law will agree to surrender the management of her younger household to them. Otherwise, they have no employment for their abilities. Surely this is a harsh old age for women who have faithfully performed what society considers their only social duty. They performed that duty for as long as they had the opportunity. Generally speaking, religion and charity are the only resources available to these women, and to women never given that duty. Many of the latter spend their lives suffering from a sense of frustrated callings and abilities they cannot develop. Their religion may involve deep feeling and ceremonial observance. But it cannot involve action except through charity. Many women are naturally well suited to charitable work. But doing useful charity, or even avoiding harm, requires the education, broad preparation, knowledge, and judgment of a skilled administrator. Anyone capable of distributing charity usefully would be qualified for almost any administrative role in government. Here, as elsewhere, women cannot properly perform their permitted duties without training for duties forbidden to them. This is especially true of educating children. Society loses greatly by denying women those other duties. Here I must point out a peculiar way opponents often present the question of restrictions on women. They find it easier to make their opponents' proposals look ridiculous than to answer the arguments supporting them. Suppose someone suggests that women's administrative abilities and sound advice might sometimes prove valuable in government. These jokers invite the world to laugh at teenage girls, or young wives of twenty-two or twenty-three, in Parliament or the cabinet. They picture these women transferred directly from the drawing room to the House of Commons, exactly as they are. They forget that men of such an early age are not usually chosen for Parliament or responsible political positions. Common sense should tell these critics which women would receive such responsibilities. Some would be women who felt no particular calling to married life, or preferred another use for their abilities. Even now, many women prefer one of the few respectable occupations open to them over marriage. Such women would have spent the best years of their youth preparing for their chosen work. Perhaps still more often, those selected would be widows or wives of forty or fifty. These women would have gained knowledge of life and governing ability within their families. With suitable study, they could apply that experience on a broader scale. In every country of Europe, the ablest men have often experienced and deeply appreciated the help of intelligent, experienced women. These women, knowledgeable about the world, have helped men achieve both private and public goals. There are important areas of public administration where few men are as capable as such women. Detailed oversight of spending is one example. But our subject here is not society's need for women's services in public affairs. It is the dull and hopeless life society so often imposes on women. Many women know they possess practical abilities, yet society forbids them to use those abilities beyond the household. For some women, that field was never open. For others, it is open no longer. If anything is essential to human happiness, it is enjoying one's regular occupation. A large part of humanity has little or no opportunity to meet this condition of an enjoyable life. Without it, many lives fail despite appearing to have every ingredient of success. Society is not yet skilled enough to overcome some circumstances that often make such failures unavoidable for now. But society need not cause these failures itself. Poor parental judgment, young people's inexperience, or available opportunities lead many men into work they dislike. Opportunities may be absent for work that suits them, while available for work that does not. These men spend their lives doing one thing reluctantly and badly, though they could have done other things well and happily. But women receive this sentence through actual laws and customs that have the force of law. In unenlightened societies, some men are excluded because of their colour, race, religion, or, in conquered countries, nationality. Sex serves the same purpose for all women. It absolutely excludes them from almost every respectable occupation. The exceptions are work that others cannot do, or work those others consider beneath them. Suffering caused by restrictions of this kind usually receives very little sympathy. Consequently, few people realize how much unhappiness already comes from the feeling of a wasted life. Such unhappiness will become even more common as women's education and development advance. Their ideas and abilities will increasingly exceed the opportunities society allows them to act.

When we consider the positive evil caused to the disqualified half of the human race by their disqualification—first in the loss of the most inspiriting and elevating kind of personal enjoyment, and next in the weariness, disappointment, and profound dissatisfaction with life, which are so often the substitute for it; one feels that among all the lessons which men require for carrying on the struggle against the inevitable imperfections of their lot on earth, there is no lesson which they more need, than not to add to the evils which nature inflicts, by their jealous and prejudiced restrictions on one another. Their vain fears only substitute other and worse evils for those which they are idly apprehensive of: while every restraint on the freedom of conduct of any of their human fellow creatures, (otherwise than by making them responsible for any evil actually caused by it), dries up pro tanto the principal fountain of human happiness, and leaves the species less rich, to an inappreciable degree, in all that makes life valuable to the individual human being.

Consider the real harm caused to half the human race by denying them equal opportunities. First, they lose the kind of personal enjoyment that most inspires and uplifts people. Instead, they so often experience weariness, disappointment, and deep dissatisfaction with life. People need many lessons to struggle against the unavoidable imperfections of life on earth. But no lesson is more necessary than this: do not add to nature’s harms through jealous, prejudiced restrictions on others. People’s groundless fears merely replace the harms they needlessly fear with other, worse harms. Meanwhile, every restriction on another person’s freedom of action dries up to that extent the main source of human happiness. The exception is holding people responsible for any harm their actions actually cause. Every such restriction leaves humanity poorer, to a degree beyond measurement, in everything that makes individual life valuable.