CHAP. I. THE RIGHTS AND INVOLVED DUTIES OF MANKIND CONSIDERED.

IN the present state of society it appears neces­sary to go back to first principles in search of the most simple truths, and to dispute with some prevailing prejudice every inch of ground. To clear my way, I must be allowed to ask some plain questions, and the answers will probably appear as unequivocal as the axioms on which reasoning is built; though, when entangled with various motives of action, they are formally con­tradicted, either by the words or conduct of men.

In what does man's pre-eminence over the brute creation consist? The answer is as clear as that a half is less than the whole; in Reason.

[Page 28]What acquirement exalts one being above an­other? Virtue; we spontaneously reply.

For what purpose were the passions implant­ed? That man by struggling with them might attain a degree of knowledge denied to the brutes; whispers Experience.

Consequently the perfection of our nature and capability of happiness, must be estimated by the degree of reason, virtue, and knowledge, that distinguish the individual, and direct the laws which bind society: and that from the exercise of reason, knowledge and virtue naturally flow, is equally undeniable, if mankind be viewed col­lectively.

The rights and duties of man thus simplified, it seems almost impertinent to attempt to illus­trate truths that appear so incontrovertible; yet such deeply rooted prejudices have clouded rea­son, and such spurious qualities have assumed the name of virtues, that it is necessary to pursue the course of reason as it has been perplexed and in­volved in error, by various adventitious circum­stances, comparing the simple axiom with casual deviations.

Men, in general, seem to employ their reason to justify prejudices, which they have imbibed, they cannot trace how, rather than to root them out. The mind must be strong that resolutely forms its own principles; for a kind of intel­lectual cowardice prevails which makes many men shrink from the task, or only do it by halves. Yet the imperfect conclusions thus drawn, are frequently very plausible, because they are built on partial experience, on just, though narrow, views.

[Page 29]Going back to first principles, vice skulks, with all its native deformity, from close investi­gation; but a set of shallow reasoners are always exclaiming that these arguments prove too much, and that a measure rotten at the core may be ex­pedient. Thus expediency is continually con­trasted with simple principles, till truth is lost in a mist of words, virtue, in forms, and know­ledge rendered a sounding nothing, by the spe­cious prejudices that assume its name.

That the society is formed in the wisest man­ner, whose constitution is founded on the nature of man, strikes, in the abstract, every thinking being so forcibly, that it looks like presumption to endeavour to bring forward proofs; though proof must be brought, or the strong hold of prescription will never be forced by reason; yet to urge prescription as an argument to justify the depriving men (or women) of their natural rights, is one of the absurd sophisms which dai­ly insult common sense.

The civilization of the bulk of the people of Europe is very partial; nay, it may be made a question, whether they have acquired any vir­tues in exchange for innocence, equivalent to the misery produced by the vices that have been plastered over unsightly ignorance, and the free­dom which has been bartered for splendid slavery. The desire of dazzling by riches, the most cer­tain pre-eminence that man can obtain, the plea­sure of commanding flattering sycophants, and many other complicated low calculations of do­ting self-love, have all contributed to overwhelm the mass of mankind, and make liberty a con­venient [Page 30] handle for mock patriotism. For whilst rank and titles are held of the utmost import­ance, before which Genius "must hide its di­minished head," it is, with a few exceptions, very unfortunate for a nation when a man of abilities, without rank or property, pushes himself for­ward to notice.—Alas! what unheard of misery have thousands suffered to purchase a cardinal's hat for an intriguing obscure adventurer, who longed to be ranked with princes, or lord it over them by seizing the triple crown!

Such, indeed, has been the wretchedness that has flowed from hereditary honours, riches, and monarchy, that men of lively sensibility have al­most uttered blasphemy in order to justify the dispensations of providence. Man has been held out as independent of his powe [...] who made him, or as a lawless planet darting from its orbit to steal the celestial fire of reason; and the venge­ance of heaven, lurking in the subtile flame, suf­ficiently punished his temerity, by introducing evil into the world.

Impressed by this view of the misery and dis­order which pervaded society, and fatigued with jostling against artificial fools, Rousseau became enamoured of solitude, and, being at the same time an optimist, he labours with uncommon eloquence to prove that man was naturally a soli­tary animal. Misled by his respect for the good­ness of God, who certainly—for what man of sense and feeling can doubt it!—gave life only to communicate happiness, he considers evil as positive, and the work of man; not aware that [Page 31] he was exalting one attribute at the expense of another, equally necessary to divine perfection.

Reared on a false hypothesis his arguments in favour of a state of nature are plausible, but un­sound. I say unsound; for to assert that a state of nature is preferable to civilization, in all its possible perfection, is, in other words, to arraign supreme wisdom; and the paradoxical exclama­tion, that God has made all things right, and that evil has been introduced by the creature, whom he formed, knowing what he formed, is as unphilosophical as impious.

When that wise Being who created us and placed us here, saw the fair idea, he willed, by allowing it to be so, that the passions should un­fold our reason, because he could see that present evil would produce future good. Could the helpless creature whom he called from nothing break loose from his providence, and boldly learn to know good by practising evil, without his permission? No.—How could that energetic ad­vocate for immortality argue so inconsistently? Had mankind remained for ever in the brutal state of nature, which even his magic pen cannot paint as a state in which a single virtue took root, it would have been clear, though not to the sensitive unreflecting wanderer, that man was born to run the circle of life and death, and adorn God's garden for some purpose which could not easily be reconciled with his attributes.

But, if, to crown the whole, there were to be rational creatures produced, allowed to rise in ex­cellence by the exercise of powers implanted for that purpose; if benignity itself thought fit to [Page 32] call into existence a creature above the brutes ^*, who could think and improve himself, why should that inestimable gift, for a gift it was, if man was so created as to have a capacity to rise above the state in which sensation produced brutal ease, be called, in direct terms, a curse? A curse it might be reckoned, if all our existence was bounded by our continuance in this world; for why should the gracious fountain of life give us passions, and the power of reflecting, only to imbitter our days and inspire us with mistaken notions of dignity? Why should he lead us from love of ourselves to the sublime emotions which the discovery of his wisdom and goodness excites, if these feelings were not set in motion to improve our nature, of which they make a part ^†, and render us capable of enjoy­ing a more godlike portion of happiness? Firmly persuaded that no evil exists in the world that God did not design to take place, I build my belief on the perfection of God.

Rousseau exerts himself to prove that all was right originally: a crowd of authors that all is now right: and I, that all will be right.

[Page 33]But, true to his first position, next to a state of nature, Rousseau celebrates barbarism, and, apos­trophizing the shade of Fabricius, he forgets that, in conquering the world, the Romans never dreamed of establishing their own liberty on a firm basis, or of extending the reign of virtue. Eager to support his system, he stigmatizes, as vi­cious, every effort of genius; and, uttering the apotheosis of savage virtues, he exalts those to demi-gods, who were scarcely human—the bru­tal Spartans, who, in defiance of justice and gra­titude, sacrificed, in cold blood, the slaves who had shewn themselves men to rescue their oppres­sors.

Disgusted with artificial manners and virtues, the citizen of Geneva, instead of properly sifting the subject, threw away the wheat with the chaff, without waiting to inquire whether the evils which his ardent soul turned from indig­nantly, were the consequence of civilization or the vestiges of barbarism. He saw vice tramp­ling on virtue, and the semblance of good­ness taking place of the reality; he saw talents bent by power to sinister purposes, and never thought of tracing the gigantic mischief up to arbitrary power, up to the hereditary distinctions that clash with the mental superiority that natu­rally raises a man above his fellows. He did not perceive that regal power, in a few generations, introduces idiotism into the noble stem, and holds out baits to render thousands idle and vicious.

Nothing can set the regal character in a more contemptible point of view, than the various crimes that have elevated men to the supreme [Page 34] dignity.—Vile intrigues, unnatural crimes, and every vice that degrades our nature, have been the steps to this distinguished eminence; yet mil­lions of men have supinely allowed the nerve­less limbs of the posterity of such rapacious prowlers to rest quietly on their ensanguined thrones ^*.

What but a pestilential vapour can hover over society when its chief director is only instructed in the invention of crimes, or the stupid routine of childish ceremonies? Will men never be wise?—will they never cease to expect corn from tares, and figs from thistles?

It is impossible for any man, when the most favourable circumstances concur, to acquire suf­ficient knowledge and strength of mind to dis­charge the duties of a king, entrusted with un­controuled power; how then must they be vio­lated when his very elevation is an insuperable bar to the attainment of either wisdom or vir­tue; when all the feelings of a man are stifled by flattery, and reflection shut out by pleasure! Surely it [...] madness to make the fate of thou­sands depend on the caprice of a weak fellow creature, whose very station sinks him necessarily below the meanest of his subjects! But one pow­er should not be thrown down to exalt another— for all power intoxicates weak man; and its abuse proves, that the more equality there is established among men, the more virtue and happiness will reign in society. But this, and any similar max­im [Page 35] deduced from simple reason, raises an outcry— the church or the state is in danger, if faith in the wisdom of antiquity is not implicit; and they who, roused by the sight of human calami­ty, dare to attack human authority, are reviled as despisers of God, and enemies of man. These are bitter calumnies, yet they reached one of the best of men ^*, whose ashes still preach peace, and whose memory demands a respectful pause, when subjects are discussed that lay so near his heart.

After attacking the sacred majesty of Kings, I shall scarcely excite surprise by adding my firm persuasion that every profession, in which great subordination of rank constitutes its power, is highly injurious to morality.

A standing army, for instance, is incompatible with freedom; because subordination and rigour are the very sinews of military discipline; and despotism is necessary to give vigour to enter­prizes that one will directs. A spirit inspired by romantic notions of honour, a kind of morality founded on the fashion of the age, can only be felt by a few officers, whilst the main body must be moved by command, like the waves of the sea; for the strong wind of authority pushes the crowd of subalterns forward, they scarcely know or care why, with headlong fury.

Besides, nothing can be so prejudicial to the mor­als of the inhabitants of country towns as the oc­casional residence of a set of idle superficial young men, whose only occupation is gallantry, and whose polished manners render vice more dangerous, by concealing its deformity under gay ornamental [Page 36] drapery. An air of fashion, which is but a badge of slavery, and proves that the soul has not a strong individual character, awes simple country people into an imitation of the vices, when they cannot catch the slippery graces, of politeness. Every corps is a chain of despots, who, submit­ting and tyrannizing without exercising their reason, become dead weights of vice and folly on the community. A man of rank or fortune, sure of rising by interest, has nothing to do but to pursue some extravagant freak; whilst the needy gentleman, who is to rise, as the phrase turns, by his merit, becomes a servile parasite or vile pander.

Sailors, the naval gentlemen, come under the same description, only their vices assume a differ­ent and a grosser cast. They are more positively indolent, when not discharging the ceremonials of their station; whilst the insignificant fluttering of soldiers may be termed active idleness. More con­fined to the society of men, the former acquire a fondness for humour and mischievous tricks; whilst the latter, mixing frequently with well-bred women, catch a sentimental cant.—But mind is equally out of the question, whether they in­dulge the horse-laugh, or polite simper.

May I be allowed to extend the comparison to a profession where more mind is certainly to be found; for the clergy have superior opportunities of impovement, tho' subordination almost equally cramps their faculties? The blind submission imposed at college to forms of belief serves as a novitiate to the curate, who must obsequiously respect the opinion of his rector or patron, if he [Page 37] means to rise in his profession. Perhaps there cannot be a more forcible contrast than between the servile dependent gait of a poor curate and the courtly mien of a bishop. And the respect and contempt they inspire render the discharge of their separate functions equally useless.

It is of great importance to observe that the character of every man is, in some degree, formed by his profession. A man of sense may only have a cast of countenance that wears off as you trace his individuality, whilst the weak, common man has scarcely ever any character, but what belongs to the body; at least, all his opinions have been so steeped in the vat consecrated by authority, that the faint spirit which the grape of his own vine yields cannot be distinguished.

Society, therefore, as it becomes more enlight­ened, should be very careful not to establish bod­ies of men who must necessarily be made foolish or vicious by the very constitution of their profes­sion.

In the infancy of society, when men were just emerging out of barbarism, chiefs and priests, touching the most powerful springs of savage conduct, hope and fear, must have had unbounded sway. An aristocracy, of course, is naturally the first form of government. But, clashing inter­ests soon losing their equipoise, a monarchy and hierarchy break out of the confusion of ambi­tious struggles, and the foundation of both is se­cured by feudal tenures. This appears to be the origin of monarchical and priestly power, and the dawn of civilization. But such combustible ma­terials cannot long be pent up; and, getting [Page 38] vent in foreign wars and intestine insurrections the people acquire some power in the tumult, which obliges their rulers to gloss over their op­pression with a shew of right. Thus, as wars, agriculture, commerce, and literature, expand the mind, despots are compelled, to make covert cor­ruption hold fast the power which was formerly snatched by open force ^*. And this baneful lurk­ing gangrene is most quickly spread by luxury and superstition, the sure dregs of ambition. The indolent puppet of a court first becomes a luxu­rious monster, or fastidious sensualist, and then makes the contagion which his unnatural state spread, the instrument of tyranny.

It is the pestiferous purple which renders the progress of civilization a curse, and warps the understanding, till men of sensibility doubt whe­ther the expansion of intellect produces a greater portion of happiness or misery. But the nature of the poison points out the antidote; and had Rousseau mounted one step higher in his investi­gation, or could his eye have pierced through the foggy atmosphere, which he almost disdained to breathe, his active mind would have darted for­ward to contemplate the perfection of man in the establishment of true civilization, instead of tak­ing his ferocious flight back to the night of sen­sual ignorance.

CHAP. II. THE PREVAILING OPINION OF A SEXUAL CHARACTER DISCUSSED.

TO account for, and excuse the tyranny of man, many ingenious arguments have been brought forward to prove, that the two sexes, in the acquirement of virtue, ought to aim at at­taining a very different character: or, to speak explicitly, women are not allowed to have suffi­cient strength of mind to acquire what really de­serves the name of virtue. Yet it should seem, allowing them to have souls, that there is but one way appointed by Providence to lead man­kind to either virtue or happiness.

If then women are not a swarm of ephemeron triflers, why should they be kept in ignorance under the specious name of innocence? Men complain, and with reason, of the follies and caprices of our sex, when they do not keenly satirize our headstrong passions and groveling vi­ces. Behold, I should answer, the natural effect of ignorance! The mind will ever be unstable that has only prejudices to rest on, and the current will run with destructive fury when there are no bar­riers to break its force. Women are told from their infancy, and taught by the example of their mothers, that a little knowledge of human weak­ness, justly termed cunning, softness of temper, out ward obedience, and a scrupulous attention [Page 40] to a puerile kind of propriety, will obtain for them the protection of man; and should they be beautiful, every thing else is needless, for, at least, twenty years of their lives.

Thus Milton describes our first frail mother; though when he tells us that women are formed for softness and sweet attractive grace, I cannot comprehend his meaning, unless, in the true Mahometan strain, he meant to deprive us of souls, and insinuate that we were beings only de­signed by sweet attractive grace, and docile blind obedience, to gratify the senses of man when he can no longer soar on the wing of contemplation.

How grossly do they insult us who thus ad­vise us only to render ourselves gentle, domestic brutes! For instance, the winning softness so warmly, and frequently, recommended, that gov­erns by obeying. What childish expressions, and how insignificant is the being—can it be an im­mortal one? who will condescend to govern by such sinister methods! 'Certainly, says Lord Ba­con, ‘man is of kin to the beasts by his body; and if he be not of kin to God by his spirit, he is a base and ignoble creature!’ Men, indeed, appear to me to act in a very unphilosophical manner when they try to secure the good conduct of women by attempting to keep them always in a state of childhood. Rousseau was more con­sistent when he wished to stop the progress of reason in both sexes, for if men eat of the tree of knowledge, women will come in for a taste; but, from the imperfect cultivation which their un­derstandings now receive, they only attain a knowledge of evil.

[Page 41]Children, I grant, should be innocent; but when the epithet is applied to men, or women, it is but a civil term for weakness. For if it be allowed that women were destined by Provi­dence to acquire human virtues, and by the ex­ercise of their understanding, that stability of character which is the firmest ground to rest our future hopes upon, they must be permitted to turn to the fountain of light, and not forced to shape their course by the twinkling of a mere satellite. Milton, I grant, was of a very differ­ent opinion; for he only bends to the indefeasi­ble right of beauty, though it would be difficult to render two passages which I now mean to con­trast, consistent. But into similar inconsistencies are great men often led by their senses.

These are exactly the arguments that I have used to children; but I have added, your reason is now gaining strength, and, till it arrives at some degree of maturity, you must look up to me for advice—then you ought to think, and on­ly rely on God.

Yet in the following lines Milton seems to coincide with me; when he makes Adam thus expostulate with his Maker.

In treating, therefore, of the manners of wo­men, let us, disregarding sensual arguments, trace what we should endeavour to make them in or­der to co-operate, if the expression be not too bold, with the supreme Being.

By individual education, I mean, for the sense of the word is not precisely defined, such an at­tention to a child as will slowly sharpen the sens­es, form the temper, regulate the passions, as they begin to ferment, and set the understanding to work before the body arrives at maturity; so that the man may only have to proceed, not to begin, the important task of learning to think and reason.

To prevent any misconstruction, I must add, that I do not believe that a private education can work the wonders which some sanguine writers have attributed to it. Men and women must be educated, in a great degree, by the opinions and manners of the society they live in. In every age there has been a stream of popular opinion that has carried all before it, and given a family character, as it were, to the century. It may then fairly be inferred, that, till society be dif­ferently constituted, much cannot be expected from education. It is, however, sufficient for [Page 43] my present purpose to assert, that whatever ef­fect circumstances have on the abilities, every be­ing may become virtuous by the exercise of its own reason; for if but one being was created with vicious inclinations, that is positively had, what can save us from atheism? or if we wor­ship a God, is not that God a devil?

Consequently, the most perfect education, in my opinion, is such an exercise of the under­standing as is best calculated to strengthen the body and form the heart. Or, in other words, to enable the individual to attain such habits of virtue as will render it independent. In fact, it is a farce to call any being virtuous whose vir­tues do not result from the exercise of its own reason. This was Rousseau's opinion respecting men: I extend it to women, and confidently as­sert that they have been drawn out of their sphere by false refinement, and not by an endea­vour to acquire masculine qualities. Still the regal homage which they receive is so intoxicat­ing, that till the manners of the times are chang­ed, and formed on more reasonable principles, it may be impossible to convince them that the il­legitimate power which they obtain, by degrad­ing themselves, is a curse, and that they must return to nature and equality, if they wish to se­cure the placid satisfaction that unsophisticated affections impart. But for this epoch we must wait—wait, perhaps, till kings and nobles, en­lightened by reason, and, preferring the real dig­nity of man to childish state, throw off their gaudy hereditary tr [...]ppings: and if the [...] women do not resign the arbitrary power of beauty— [Page 44] they will prove that they have less mind than man.

I may be accused of arrogance; still I must declare, what I firmly believe, that all the writ­ers who have written on the subject of female education and manners, from Rousseau to Dr. Gregory, have contributed to render women more artificial, weak characters, than they would otherwise have been; and, consequently, more useless members of society, I might have expres­sed this conviction in a lower key; but I am afraid it would have been the whine of affecta­tion, and not the faithful expression of my feel­ings; of the clear result, which experience and reflection have led me to draw. When I come to that division of the subject, I shall advert to the passages that I more particularly disapprove of, in the works of the authors I have just allud­ed to; but it is first necessary to observe, that my objection extends to the whole purport of those books, which tend, in my opinion, to de­grade one half of the human species, and render women pleasing at the expense of every solid virtue.

Though, to reason on Rousseau's ground, if man did attain a degree of perfection of mind when his body arrived at maturity, it might be proper, in order to make a man and his wife one, that she should rely entirely on his understand­ing; and the graceful ivy, clasping the oak that supported it, would form a whole in which strength and beauty would be equally conspicu­ous. But, alas! husbands, as well as their help­mates, are often only overgrown children; nay, [Page 45] thanks to early debauchery, scarcely men in their outward form—and if the blind lead the blind, one need not come from heaven to tell us the consequence.

Many are the causes that, in the present cor­rupt state of society, contribute to enslave women by cramping their understandings and sharpening their senses. One, perhaps, that silently does more mischief than all the rest, is their disre­gard of order.

To do every thing in an orderly manner, is a most important precept, which women, who, generally speaking, receive only a disorderly kind of education, seldom attend to with that degree of exactness, that men, who from their infancy are broken into method, observe. This negli­gent kind of guess-work, for what other epithet can be used to point out the random exertions of a sort of instinctive common sense, never brought to the test of reason? prevents their generalizing matters of fact—so they do to-day, what they did yesterday, merely because they did it yester­day.

This contempt of the understanding in early life has more baneful consequences than is com­monly supposed; for the little knowledge which women of strong minds attain, is, from various circumstances, of a more desultory kind than the knowledge of men, and it is acquired more by sheer observations on real life, than from compar­ing what has been individually observed with the results of experience generalized by specula­tion. Led by their dependent situation and do­mestic employments more into society, what they [Page 46] learn is rather by snatches; and as learning is with them, in general, only a secondary thing, they do not pursue any one branch with that persevering ardour necessary to give vigour to the faculties, and clearness to the judgment. In the present state of society, a little learning is re­quired to support the character of a gentleman; and boys are obliged to submit to a few years of discipline. But in the education of women, the cultivation of the understanding is always subor­dinate to the acquirement of some corporeal ac­complishment; even while enervated by confine­ment and false notions of modesty, the body is prevented from attaining that grace and beauty which relaxed half-formed limbs never exhibit. Besides, in youth their faculties are not brought forward by emulation; and having no serious scientific study, if they have natural sagacity it is turned too soon on life and manners. They dwell on effects, and modifications, without tracing them back to causes; and complicated rules to adjust behaviour, are a weak substitute for sim­ple principles.

As a proof that education gives this appear­ance of weakness to females, we may instance the example of military men, who are, like them, sent into the world before their minds have been stored with knowledge or fortified by principles. The consequences are similar; soldiers acquire a little superficial knowledge, snatched from the muddy current of conversation, and, from conti­nually mixing with society, they gain, what is termed a knowledge of the world; and this ac­quaintance with manners and customs has fre­quently [Page 47] been confounded with a knowledge of the human heart. But can the crude fruit of casual observation, never brought to the test of judg­ment, formed by comparing speculation and ex­perience, deserve such a distinction? Soldiers, as well as women, practise the minor virtues with punctilious politeness. Where is then the sexu­al difference, when the education has been the same? All the difference that I can discern, arises from the superior advantage of liberty, which en­ables the former to see more of life.

It is wandering from my present subject, per­haps, to make a political remark; but, as it was produced naturally by the train of my reflections, I shall not pass it silently over.

Standing armies can never consist of resolute, robust men; they may be well disciplined ma­chines, but they will seldom contain men under the influence of strong passions, or with very vigorous faculties. And as for any depth of understand­ing, I will venture to affirm, that it is as rarely to be found in the army as amongst women; and the cause, I maintain, is the same. It may be further observed, that officers are also particularly attentive to their persons, fond of dancing, crowd­ed rooms, adventures, and ridicule ^*. Like the fair sex, the business of their lives is gallantry.— They were taught to please, and they only live to please. Yet they do not lose their rank in the distinction of sexes, for they are still reckoned superior to women, though in what their supe­riority [Page 48] consists, beyond what I have just men­tioned, it is difficult to discover.

The great misfortune is this, that they both acquire manners before morals, and a knowledge of life before they have, from reflection, any ac­quaintance with the grand ideal outline of hu­man nature. The consequence is natural; satis­fied with common nature, they become a prey to prejudices, and taking all their opinions on credit, they blindly submit to authority. So that, if they have any sense, it is a kind of in­stinctive glance, that catches proportions, and de­cides with respect to manners; but fails when arguments are to be pursued below the surface, or opinions analyzed.

May not the same remark be applied to wo­men? Nay, the argument may be carried still further, for they are both thrown out of a use­ful station by the unnatural distinctions estab­lished in civilized life. Riches and hereditary honours have made cyphers of women to give consequence to the numerical figure; and idle­ness has produced a mixture of gallantry and des­potism into society, which leads the very men who are the slaves of their mistresses to tyrannize over their sisters, wives, and daughters. This is only keeping them in rank and file, it is true. Strengthen the female mind by enlarging it, and there will be an end to blind obedience; but, as blind obedience is ever sought for by power, ty­rants and sensualists are in the right when they endeavour to keep women in the dark, because the former only want slaves, and the latter a play-thing. The sensualist, indeed, has been the [Page 49] most dangerous of tyrants, and women have been duped by their lovers, as princes by their minis­ters, whilst dreaming that they reigned over them.

I now principally allude to Rousseau, for his character of Sophia is, undoubtedly, a captivating one, though it appears to me grossly unnatural; however, it is not the superstructure but the foundation of her character, the principles on which her education was built, that I mean to attack; nay, warmly as I admire the genius of that able writer, whose opinions I shall often have occasion to cite, indignation always takes place of admiration, and the rigid frown of in­sulted virtue effaces the smile of complacency, which his eloquent periods are wont to raise, when I read his voluptuous reveries. Is this the man, who, in his ardour for virtue, would banish all the soft arts of peace, and almost car­ry us back to Spartan discipline? Is this the man who delights to paint the useful struggles of passion, the triumphs of good disposition, and the heroic flights which carry the glowing soul out of itself?—How are these mighty sentiments lowered when he describes the pretty foot and en­ticing airs of his little favourite! But, for the present I wave the subject, and, instead of se­verely reprehending the transient effusions of over­weening sensibility, I shall only observe, that who­ever has cast a benevolent eye on society, must often have been gratified by the sight of humble mutual love, not dignified by sentiment, nor strengthened by a union in intellectual pursuits. The domestic trifles of the day have afforded mat­ter [Page 50] for cheerful converse, and innocent caresses have softened toils which did not require great exercise of mind or stretch of thought: yet, has not the sight of this moderate felicity excited more ten­derness than respect? A [...] emotion similar to what we feel when children are playing, or ani­mals sporting ^*, whilst the contemplation of the noble struggles of suffering merit has raised ad­miration, and carried our thoughts to that world where sensation will give place to reason.

Women are, therefore, to be considered either as moral beings, or so weak that they must be entirely subjected to the superior faculties of men.

Let us examine this question. Rousseau de­clares that a woman should never, for a moment, feel herself independent, that she should be gov­erned by fear to exercise her natural cunning, and made a coquetish slave in order to render her a more alluring object of desire, a sweeter compan­ion to man, whenever he chooses to relax him­self. He carries the arguments, which he pre­tends to draw from the indications of nature, still further, and insinuates that truth and fortitude, the corner stones of all human virtue, should be cultivated with certain restrictions, because, with respect to the female character, obedience is the grand lesson which ought to be impressed with unrelenting rigour.

[Page 51]What nonsense! when will a great man arise with sufficient strength of mind to puff away the fumes which pride and sensuality have thus spread over the subject! If women are by nature inferior to men, their virtues must be the same in quality, if not in degree, or virtue is a relative idea; consequently, their conduct should be founded on the same principles, and have the same aim.

Connected with man as daughters, wives, and mothers, their moral character may be estimated by their manner of fulfilling those simple du­ties; but the end, the grand end of their exer­tions should be to unfold their own faculties and acquire the dignity of conscious virtue. They may try to render their road pleasant; but ought never to forget, in common with man, that life yields not the felicity which can satisfy an im­mortal soul. I do not mean to insinuate, that either sex should be so lost in abstract reflections or distant views, as to forget the affections and duties that lie before them, and are, in truth, the means appointed to produce the fruit of life; on the contrary, I would warmly recom­mend them, even while I assert, that they afford most satisfaction when they are considered in their true subordinate light.

Probably the prevailing opinion, that woman was created for man, may have taken its rise from Moses's poetical story; yet, as very few, it is presumed, who have bestowed any serious thought on the subject, ever supposed that Eve was, literally speaking, one of Adam's ribs, the deduction must be allowed to fall to the ground; [Page 52] or, only be so far admitted as it proves that man, from the remotest antiquity, found it convenient to exert his strength to subjugate his compan­ion, and his invention to shew that she ought to have her neck bent under the yoke; because she, as well as the brute creation, was created to do his pleasure.

Let it not be concluded that I wish to invert the order of things; I have already granted, that, from the constitution of their bodies, men seem to be designed by Providence to attain a greater degree of virtue. I speak collectively of the whole sex; but I see not the shadow of a rea­son to conclude that their virtues should differ in respect to their nature. In fact, how can they, if virtue has only one eternal standard? I must therefore, if I reason consequentially, as strenu­ously maintain that they have the same simple di­rection, as that there is a God.

It follows then that cunning should not be opposed to wisdom, little cares to great exertions, nor insipid softness, varnished over with the name of gentleness, to that fortitude which grand views alone can inspire.

I shall be told that woman would then lose many of her peculiar graces, and the opinion of a well known poet might be quoted to refute my unqualified assertion. For Pope has said, in the name of the whole male sex,

In what light this sally places men and wo­men, I shall leave to the judicious to determine; [Page 53] meanwhile I shall content myself with observing, that I cannot discover why, unless they are mor­tal, females should always be degraded by being made subservient to love or lust.

To speak disrespectfully of love is, I know, high treason against sentiment and fine feelings; but I wish to speak the simple language of truth, and rather to address the head than the heart. To endeavour to reason love out of the world, would be to out Quixote Cervantes, and equally offend against common sense; but an endeavour to restrain this tumultuous passion, and to prove that it should not be allowed to dethrone superior powers, or to usurp the sceptre which the under­standing should ever coolly wield, appears less wild.

Youth is the season for love in both sexes; but in those days of thoughtless enjoyment pro­vision should be made for the more important years of life, when reflection takes place of sen­sation. But Rousseau, and most of the male wri­ters who have followed his steps, have warmly inculcated that the whole tendency of female education ought to be directed to one point:— to render them pleasing.

Let me reason with the supporters of this opin­ion who have any knowledge of human nature, do they imagine that marriage can eradicate the habitude of life? The woman who has only been taught to please will soon find that her charms are oblique sunbeams, and that they cannot have much effect on her husband's heart when they are seen every day, when the summer is passed and gone. Will she then have sufficient native energy to [Page 54] look into herself for comfort, and cultivate her dormant faculties? or, is it not more rational to expect that she will try to please other men; and, in the emotions raised by the expectation of new conquests, endeavour to forget the mortification her love or pride has received? When the hus­band ceases to be a lover—and the time will in­evitably come, her desire of pleasing will then grow languid, or become a spring of bitterness; and love, perhaps, the most evanescent of all pas­sions, gives place to jealousy or vanity.

I now speak of women who are restrained by principle or prejudice; such women, though they would shrink from an intrigue with real abhor­rence, yet, nevertheless, wish to be convinced by the homage of gallantry that they are cruelly neglected by their husbands; or, days and weeks are spent in dreaming of the happiness enjoyed by congenial souls, till the health is undermined and the spirits broken by discontent. How then can the great art of pleasing be such a ne­cessary study; it is only useful to a mistress; the chaste wife, and serious mother, should only con­sider her power to please as the polish of her vir­tues, and the affection of her husband as one of the comforts that render her task less difficult and her life happier.—But, whether she be loved or neglected, her first wish should be to make her­self respectable, and not to rely for all her happi­ness on a being subject to like infirmities with herself.

The amiable Dr. Gregory fell into a similar error. I respect his heart; but entirely disap­prove of his celebrated Legacy to his Daugh­ters.

[Page 55]He advises them to cultivate a fon [...]eis for dress, because a fondness for dress, he asserts, is natural to them. I am unable to comprehend what either he or Rousseau mean, when they fre­quently use this indefinite term. If they told us that in a pre-existent state the soul was fond of dress, and brought this inclination with it into a new body, I should listen to them with a half smile, as I often do when I hear a rant about in­nate elegance.—But if he only meant to say that the exercise of the faculties will produce this fondness—I deny it.—It is not natural; but ari­ses, like false ambition in men, from a love of power.

Dr. Gregory goes much further; he actually recommends dissimulation, and advises an inno­cent girl to give the lie to her feelings, and not dance with spirit, when gaiety of heart would make her feet eloquent without making her ges­tures immodest. In the name of truth and com­mon sense, why should not one woman acknow­ledge that she can take more exercise than anoth­er? or, in other words, that she has a sound con­stitution; and why, to damp innocent vivacity, is she darkly to be told that men will draw con­clusions which she little thinks of? Let the lib­ertine draw what inference he pleases; but, I hope, that no sensible mother will restrain the natural frankness of youth by instilling such in­decent cautions. Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh; and a wiser than Solo­mon hath said, that the heart should be made clean, and not trivial ceremonies observed, which [Page 56] it is not very difficult to fulfil with scrupulous ex­actness when vice reigns in the heart.

Women ought to endeavour to purify their heart; but can they do so when their uncultiva­ted understandings make them entirely dependent on their senses for employment and amusement, when no noble pursuit sets them above the little vanities of the day, or enables them to curb the wild emotions that agitate a reed over which eve­ry passing breeze has power? To gain the affec­tions of a virtuous man is affectation necessary? Nature has given woman a weaker frame than man; but, to ensure her husband's affections, must a wife, who by the exercise of her mind and body whilst she was discharging the duties of a daughter, wife, and mother, has allowed her constitution to retain its natural strength, and her nerves a healthy tone, is she, I say, to condescend to use art and feign a sickly delicacy in order to secure her husband's affection? Weakness may excite tenderness, and gratify the arrogant pride of man; but the lordly caresses of a protector will not gratify a noble mind that pants for, and deserves to be respected. Fondness is a poor substitute for friendship!

In a seraglio, I grant, that all these arts are necessary; the epicure must have his palate tickled, or he will sink into apathy; but have women so little ambition as to be satisfied with such a con­dition? Can they supinely dream life away in the lap of pleasure, or the languor of weariness, rather than assert their claim to pursue reasonable plea­sures and render themselves conspicuous by prac­tising the virtues which dignify mankind? Surely [Page 57] she has not an immorta [...] [...] [...]an lo [...] [...]fe away merely employed to adorn her person, that she may amuse the languid hours, and soften the cares of a fellow-creature who is willing to be enlivened by her smiles and tricks, when the seri­ous business of life is over.

Besides, the woman who strengthens her body and exercises her mind will, by managing her fa­mily and practising various virtues, become the friend, and not the humble dependent of her hus­band, and if she deserves his regard by possessing such substantial qualities, she will not find it ne­cessary to conceal her affection, nor to pretend to an unnatural coldness of constitution to excite her husband's passions. In fact, if we revert to history, we shall find that the women who have distinguished themselves have neither been the most beautiful nor the most gentle of their sex.

Nature, or, to speak with strict propriety, God, has made all things right; but man has sought him out many inventions to mar the work. I now allude to that part of Dr. Gregory's treatise, where he advises a wife never to let her husband know the extent of her sensibility or affection. Voluptuous precaution, and as ineffectual as ab­surd.—Love, from its very nature, must be tran­sitory. To seek for a secret that would render it constant, would be as wild a search as for the philosopher's stone, or the grand panacea: and the discovery would be equally useless, or rather pernicious, to mankind. The most holy band of society is friendship. It has been well said, by a shrewd satirist, "that rare as true love is, true friendship is still rarer."

[Page 58]This is an obvious truth, and the cause not lying deep, will not elude a slight glance of in­quiry.

Love, the common passion, in which chance and sensation take place of choice and reason, is, in some degree, felt by the mass of mankind; for it is not necessary to speak, at present, of the emo­tions that rise above or sink below love. This passion, naturally increased by suspense and diffi­culties, draws the mind out of its accustomed state, and exalts the affections; but the security of marriage, allowing the fever of love to subside, a healthy temperature is thought insipid, only by those who have not sufficient intellect to substi­tute the calm tenderness of friendship, the confi­dence of respect, instead of blind admiration, and the sensual emotions of fondness.

This is, must be, the course of nature:— friendship or indifference inevitably succeeds love. —And this constitution seems perfectly to har­monize with the system of government which prevails in the moral world. Passions are spurs to action, and open the mind; but they sink into mere appetites, become a personal and momenta­ry gratification, when the object is gained, and the satisfied mind rests in enjoyment. The man who had some virtue whilst he was struggling for a crown, often becomes a voluptuous tyrant when it graces his brow; and, when the lover is not lost in the husband, the dotard, a prey to childish caprices, and fond jealousies, neglects the serious duties of life, and the caresses which should excite confidence in his children are lavished on the overgrown child, his wife.

[Page 59]In order to fulfil the duties of life, and to be able to pursue with vigour the various employ­ments which form the moral character, a master and mistress of a family ought not to continue to love each other with passion. I mean to say, that they ought not to indulge those emotions which disturb the order of society, and engross the thoughts that should be otherwise employed. The mind that has never been engrossed by one object wants vigour—if it can long be so, it is weak.

A mistaken education, a narrow, uncultivated mind, and many sexual prejudices, tend to make women more constant than men; but, for the present, I shall not touch on this branch of the subject. I will go still further, and advance, without dreaming of a paradox, that an unhappy marriage is often very advantageous to a family, and that the neglected wife is, in general, the best mother. And this would almost always be the consequence if the female mind was more en­larged: for, it seems to be the common dispen­sation of Providence, that what we gain in pre­sent enjoyment should be deducted from the trea­sure of life, experience; and that when we are gathering the flowers of the day and revelling in pleasure, the solid fruit of toil and wisdom should not be caught at the same time. The way lies before us, we must turn to the right or left; and he who will pass life away in bounding from one pleasure to another, must not complain if he nei­ther acquires wisdom nor respectability of charac­ter.

[Page 60]Supposing, for a moment, that the soul is not immortal, and that man was only created for the present scene,—I think we should have reason to complain that love, infantile fondness, ever grew insipid and pallid upon the sense. Let us eat, drink, and love, for to-morro [...] we die, would be, in fact, the language of reason, the morality of life; and who but a fool would part with a reali­ty for a fleeting shadow? But, if awed by ob­serving the improvable powers of the mind, we disdain to confine our wishes or thoughts to such a comparatively mean field of action; that only appears grand and important, as it is connected with a boundless prospect and sublime hopes, what necessity is there for falsehood in conduct, and why must the sacred majesty of truth be vio­lated to detain a deceitful good that saps the very foundation of virtue? Why must the female mind be tainted by coquetish arts to gratify the sensu­alist, and prevent love from subsiding into friend­ship, or compassionate tenderness, when there are not qualities on which friendship can be built? Let the honest heart shew itself, and reason teach passion to submit to necessity; or, let the dig­nified pursuit of virtue and knowledge raise the mind above those emotions which rather imbit­ter than sweeten the cup of life, when they are not restrained within due bounds.

I do not mean to allude to the romantic pas­sion, which is the concomitant of genius.—Who can clip its wing? But that grand passion not proportioned to the puny enjoyments of life, is only true to the sen [...]iment, and feeds on itself. The passions which have been celebrated for [Page 61] their durability have always been unfortunate. They have acquired strength by absence and con­stitutional melancholy.—The fancy has hovered round a form of beauty dimly seen—but familiar­ity might have turned admiration into disgust; or, at least, into indifference, and allowed the im­agination leisure to start fresh game. With per­fect propriety, according to this view of things, does Rousseau make the mistress of his soul, Eloisa, love St. Preux, when life was fading be­fore her; but this is no proof of the immortali­ty of the passion.

Of the same complexion is Dr. Gregory's ad­vice respecting delicacy of sentiment, which he advises a woman not to acquire, if she has deter­mined to marry. This determination, however, perfectly consistent with his former advice, he calls indelicate, and earnestly persuades his daugh­ters to conceal it, though it may govern their conduct: as if it were indelicate to have the com­mon appetites of human nature.

Noble morality! and consistent with the cau­tious prudence of a little soul that cannot extend its views beyond the present minute division of existence. If all the faculties of woman's mind are only to be cultivated as they respect her de­pendence on man; if, when she obtains a hus­band she has arrived at her goal, and meanly proud is satisfied with such a paltry crown, let her grovel contentedly, scarcely raised by her em­ployments above the animal kingdom; but, if she is struggling for the prize of her high call­ing, let her cultivate her understanding without stopping to consider what character the husband [Page 62] may have whom she is destined to marry. Let her only determine, without being too anxious about present happiness, to acquire the qualities that ennoble a rational being, and a rough inele­gant husband may shock her taste without de­stroying her peace of mind. She will not model her soul to suit the frailties of her companion, but to bear with them: his character may be a trial, but not an impediment to virtue.

If Dr. Gregory confined his remark to roman­tic expectations of constant love and congenial feelings, he should have recollected that experi­ence will banish what advice can never make us cease to wish for, when the imagination is kept alive at the expense of reason.

I own it frequently happens that women who have fostered a romantic unnatural delicacy of feeling, waste their ^* lives in imagining how hap­py they should have been with a husband who could love them with a fervid increasing affec­tion every day, and all day. But they might as well pine married as single—and would not be a jot more unhappy with a bad husband than long­ing for a good one. That a proper education; or, to speak with more precision, a well stored mind, would enable a woman to support a sin­gle life with dignity, I grant; but that she should avoid cultivating her taste, lest her husband should occasionally shock it, is quitting a substance for a shadow. To say the truth, I do not know of what use is an improved taste, if the individual is not rendered more independent of the casualties of life; if new sources of enjoyment, only depend­ent on the solitary operations of the mind, are [Page 63] not opened. People of taste, married or single, without distinction, will ever be disgusted by va­rious things that touch not less observing minds. On this conclusion the argument must not be al­lowed to hinge; but in the whole sum of enjoy­ment is taste to be denominated a blessing?

The question is, whether it procures most pain or pleasure? The answer will decide the proprie­ty of Dr. Gregory's advice, and shew how ab­surd and tyrannic it is thus to lay down a system of slavery; or to attempt to educate moral beings by any other rules than those deduced from pure reason, which apply to the whole species.

Gentleness of manners, forbearance and long-suffering, are such amiable Godlike qualities, that in sublime poetic strains the Deity has been in­vested with them; and, perhaps no representation of his goodness so strongly fastens on the human affections as those that represent him abundant in mercy and willing to pardon. Gentleness, considered in this point of view, bears on its front all the characteristics of grandeur, combined with the winning graces of condescension; but what a different aspect it assumes when it is the submissive demeanour of dependence, the support of weakness that loves, because it wants protec­tion; and is forbearing, because it must silently endure injuries; smiling under the lash at which it dare not snarl. Abject as this pi [...]ture appears, it is the portrait of an accomplished woman, ac­cording to the received opinion of female excel­lence, separated by specious [...]easoners from hu­man excellence. Or, they ^* kindly restore the [Page 64] rib, and make one moral being of a man and wo­man; not forgetting to give her all the 'sub­missive charms.'

How women are to exist in that state where there is to be neither marrying nor giving in marriage, we are not told.—For though moral­ists have agreed that the tenor of life seems to prove that man is prepared by various circum­stances for a future state, they constantly concur in advising woman only to provide for the pre­sent. Gentleness, docility, and a spaniel-like af­fection are, on this ground, consistently recom­mended as the cardinal virtues of the sex; and, disregarding the arbitrary economy of nature, one writer has declared that it is masculine for a wo­man to be melancholy. She was created to be the toy of man, his rattle, and it must jingle in his ears whenever, dismissing reason, he chooses to be amused.

To recommend gentleness, indeed, on a broad basis is strictly philosophical. A frail being should labour to be gentle. But when forbear­ance confounds right and wrong, it ceases to be a virtue; and, however convenient it may be found in a companion—that companion will ever be considered as an inferior, and only inspire a vapid tenderness, which easily degenerates into contempt. Still, if advice could really make a being gentle, whose natural disposition admitted not of such a fine polish, something towards the advancement of order would be attained; but if, as might quickly be demonstrated, only affecta­tion be produced by this indiscriminate counsel, which throws a stumbling-block in the way of [Page 65] gradual improvement, and true melioration of temper, the sex is not much benefited by sacri­ficing solid virtues to the attainment of superficial graces, though for a few years they may procure the individuals regal sway.

As a philosopher, I read with indignation the plausible epithets which men use to soften their in­sults; and, as a moralist, I ask what is meant by such heterogeneous associations, as fair defects, amiable weaknesses, &c.? If there is but one criterion of morals, but one archetype for man, women appear to be suspended by destiny, according to the vulgar tale of Mahomet's coffin; they have neither the unerring instinct of brutes, nor are allowed to fix the eye of reason on a perfect model. They were made to be loved, and must not aim at respect, lest they should be hunted out of society as masculine.

But to view the subject in another point of view. Do passive indolent women make the best wives? Confining our discussion to the present mo­ment of existence, let us see how such weak creatures perform their part? Do the women, who, by the attainment of a few superficial ac­complishments, have strengthened the prevailing prejudice, merely contribute to the happiness of their husbands [...] Do they display their charms merely to amuse them? And have women, who have early imbibed notions of passive obedience, sufficient character to manage a family or educate children? So far from it, that, after surveying the history of woman, I cannot help agreeing with the severest satirist, considering the sex as the weakest as well as the most oppressed half of the species. What does history disclose but marks [Page 66] of inferiority, and how few women have ema [...] ­cipated themselves from the galling yoke of sover­eign man?—So few, that the exceptions remind me of an ingenious conjecture respecting New­ton: that he was probably a being of a superior order, accidentally caged in a human body. In the fame style I have been led to imagine that the few extraordinary women who have rushed in ec­centrical directions out of the orbit prescribed to their sex, were male spirited, confined by mistake in a female frame. But if it be not philosophi­cal to think of sex when the soul is mentioned, the inferiority must depend on the organs; or the heavenly fire, which is to ferment the clay, is not given in equal portions.

But avoiding, as I have hitherto done, any di­rect comparison of the two sexes collectively, or frankly acknowledging the inferiority of woman, according to the present appearance of things, I shall only insist that men have increased that in­feriority till women are almost sunk below the standard of rational creatures. Let their faculties have room to unfold, and their virtues to gain strength, and then determine where the whole sex must stand in the intellectual scale. Yet let it be remembered, that for a small number of distinguished women I do not ask a place.

It is difficult for us purblind mortals to say to what height human discoveries and improvements may arrive when the gloom of despotism sub­sides, which makes us stumble at every step; but, when morality shall be settled on a more solid ba­sis, then, without being gifted with a prophetic spirit, I will venture to predict that woman will [Page 67] be either the friend or slave of man. We shall not, as at present, doubt whether she is a moral agent, or the link which unites man with brutes. But, should it then appear, that like the brutes they were principally created for the use of man, he will let them patiently bite the bridle, and not mock them with empty praise; or, should their rationality be proved, he will not impede their improvement merely to gratify his sensual appetites. He will not, with all the graces of rhetoric, advise them to submit implicitly their understanding to the guidance of man. He will not, when he treats of the education of women, assert that they ought never to have the free use of reason, nor would he recommend cunning and dissimulation to beings who are acquiring, in like manner as himself, the virtues of humanity.

Surely there can be but one rule of right, if morality has an eternal foundation, and whoever sacrifices virtue, strictly so called, to present con­venience, or whose duty it is to act in such a manner, lives only for the passing day, and can­not be an accountable creature.

The poet then should have dropped his sneer when he says,

For that they are bound by the adamantine chain of destiny is most certain, if it be proved that they are never to exercise their own reason never to be independent, never to rise above opinion, or to feel the dignity of a rational will that only bows to God, and often forgets that the universe con­tains [Page 68] any being but itself and the model of per­fection to which its ardent gaze is turned, to adore attributes that, softened into virtues, may be im­itated in kind, though the degree overwhelms the enraptured mind.

If, I say, for I would not impress by declama­tion when Reason offers her sober light, if they are really capable of acting like rational creatures, let them not be treated like slaves; or, like the brutes who are dependent on the reason of man, when they associate with him; but cultivate their minds, give them the salutary, sublime curb of principle, and let them attain conscious dignity by feeling themselves only dependent on God. Teach them, in common with man, to submit to necessity, instead of giving, to render them more pleasing, a sex to morals.

Further, should experience prove that they cannot attain the same degree of strength of mind, perseverence, and fortitude, let their virtues be the same in kind, though they may vainly strug­gle for the same degree; and the superiority of man will be equally clear, if not clearer; and truth, as it is a simple principle, which admits of no modification, would be common to both. Nay, the order of society as it is at present regu­lated would not be inverted, for woman would then only have the rank that reason assigned her, and arts could not be practised to bring the bal­ance even, much less to turn it.

These may be termed Utopian dreams.— Thanks to that Being who impressed them on my soul, and gave me sufficient strength of mind to dare to exert my own reason, till, becoming [Page 69] dependent only on him for the support of my virtue, I view, with indignation, the mistaken notions that enslave my sex.

I love man as my fellow; but his scepter, real, or usurped, extends not to me, unless the reason of an individual demands my homage; and even then the submission is to reason, and not to man. In fact, the conduct of an account­able being must be regulated by the operations of its own reason; or on what foundation rests the throne of God?

It appears to me necessary to dwell on these obvious truths, because females have been insula­ted, as it were; and, while they have been strip­ped of the virtues that should clothe humanity, they have been decked with artificial graces that enable them to exercise a short-lived tyranny. Love, in their bosoms, taking place of every no­bler passion, their sole ambition is to be fair, to raise emotion instead of inspiring respect; and this ignoble desire, like the servility in absolute monarchies, destroys all strength of character. Liberty is the mother of virtue, and if women are, by their very constitution, slaves, and not al­lowed to breathe the sharp invigorating air of freedom, they must ever languish like exotics, and be reckoned beautiful flaws in nature;—let it also be remembered, that they are the only flaw.

As to the argument respecting the subjection in which the sex has ever been held, it retorts on man. The many have always been enthralled by the few; and monsters, who scarcely have shewn any discernment of human excellence, have ty­rannized over thousands of their fellow creatures. [Page 70] Why have men of superior endowments sub­mitted to such degration? For, is it not uni­versally acknowledged that kings, viewed collec­tively, have ever been inferior, in abilities and vir­tue, to the same number of men taken from the common mass of mankind—yet, have they not, and are they not still treated with a degree of re­verence that is an insult to reason; China is not the only country where a living man has been made a God. Men have submitted to su­perior strength to enjoy with impunity the plea­sure of the moment— women have only done the same, and therefore till it is proved that the courtier, who servilely resigns the birthright of a man, is not a moral agent, it cannot be demon­strated that woman is essentially inferior to man because she has always been subjugated.

Brutal force has hitherto governed the world, and that the science of politics is in its infancy, is evident from philosophers scrupling to give the knowledge most useful to man that determinate distinction.

I shall not pursue this argument any further than to establish an obvious inference, that as sound politics diffuse liberty, mankind, including woman, will become more wise and virtuous.

CHAP. III. THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED.

BODILY strength from being the distinc­tion of heroes is now sunk into such unmerited contempt, that men, as well as women, seem to think it unnecessary: the latter, as it takes from their feminine graces, and from that lovely weak­ness, the source of their undue power; and the former, because it appears inimical with the cha­racter of a gentleman.

That they have both by departing from one extreme run into another, may easily be proved; but first it may be proper to observe, that a vul­gar error has obtained a degree of credit, which has given force to a false conclusion, in which an effect has been mistaken for a cause.

People of genius have, very frequently, im­paired their constitutions by study or careless in­attention to their health, and the violence of their passions bearing a proportion to the vigour of their intellects, the sword's destroying the scab­bard has become almost proverbial, and super­ficial observers have inferred from thence, that men of genius have commonly weak, or, to use a more fashionable phrase, delicate constitutions. Yet the contrary, I believe, will appear to be the fact; for, on diligent inquiry, I find that strength of mind has, in most cases, been accom­panied by superior strength of body,—natural soundness of constitution,—not that robust tone [Page 72] of nerves and vigour of muscles, which arise from bodily labour, when the mind is quiescent, or on­ly directs the hands.

Dr. Priestley has remarked, in the preface to his biographical chart, that the majority of great men have lived beyond forty-five. And, consid­ering the thoughtless manner in which they have lavished their strength, when investigating a fa­vourite science they have wasted the lamp of life, forgetful of the midnight hour; or, when lost in poetic dreams, fancy has peopled the scene, and the soul has been disturbed, till it shook the con­stitution, by the passions that meditation had rais­ed; whose objects, the baseless fabric of a vision, faded before the exhausted eye, they must have had iron frames. Shakespeare never grasped the airy dagger with a nerveless hand, nor did Mil­ton tremble when he led Satan far from the con­fines of his dreary prison.—These were not the ravings of imbecility, the sickly effusions of dis­tempered brains; but the exuberance of fancy, that 'in a fine phrenzy' wandering, was not con­tinually reminded of its material shackles.

I am aware that this argument would carry me further than it may be supposed I wish to go; but I follow truth, and, still adhering to my first position, I will allow that bodily strength seems to give man a natural superiority over wo­man; and this is the only solid basis on which the superiority of the sex can be built. But I still insist, that not only the virtue, but the knowledge of the two sexes should be the same in nature, if not in degree, and that women, consid­ered not only as moral, but rational creatures, [Page 73] ought to endeavour to acquire human virtues (or perfections) by the same means as men, instead of being educated like a fanciful kind of half be­ing—one of Rousseau's wild chimeras ^*.

[Page 74]But, if strength of body be, with some shew of reason, the boast of men, why are women so infatuated as to be proud of a defect? Rousseau has furnished them with a plausible excuse, which could only have occurred to a man, whose imagination had been allowed to run wild, and refine on the impressions made by exquisite senses;—that they might, forsooth, have a pre­text for yielding to a natural appetite without vi­olating a romantic species of modesty, which gratifies the pride and libertinism of man.

Women, deluded by these sentiments, sometimes boast of their weakness, cunningly obtaining pow­er by playing on the weakness of men; and they may well glory in their illicit sway, for, like Tur­kish bashaws, they have more real power than their masters: but virtue is sacrificed to tempo­rary gratifications, and the respectability of life to the triumph of an hour.

Women, as well as despots have now, perhaps, more power than they would have if the world, divided and subdivided into kingdoms and fami­lies, was governed by laws deduced from the ex­ercise of reason; but in obtaining it, to carry on the comparison, their character is degraded, and licentiousness spread through the whole aggregate of society. The many become pedestal to the few. I, therefore, will venture to assert, that till women are more rationally educated, the progress of human virtue and improvement in knowledge must receive continual checks. And if it be granted that woman was not created merely to gratify the appetite of man, nor to be the upper servant, who provides his meals and takes care of [Page 75] his linen, it must follow, that the first care of those mothers or fathers, who really attend to the education of females, should be, if not to strength­en the body, at least, not to destroy the constitu­tion by mistaken notions of beauty and female ex­cellence; nor should girls ever be allowed to imbibe the pernicious notion that a defect can, by any chemical process of reasoning, become an excellence. In this respect, I am happy to find, that the author of one of the most instructive books, that our country has produced for children, coincides with me in opinion; I shall quote his pertinent remarks to give the force of his re­spectable authority to reason ^*.

[Page 76]But should it be proved that woman is natu­rally weaker than man, from whence does it follow that it is natural for her to labour to become still weaker than nature intended her to be? Arguments of this cast are an insult to common sense, and sa­vour passion. The divine right of husbands, like the divine right of kings, may, it is to be hoped, in this enlightened age, be contested without dan­ger, and, though conviction may not silence ma­ny boisterous disputants, yet when any prevailing prejudice is attacked, the wise will consider, and leave the narrow-minded to rail with thought­less vehemence at innovation.

The mother, who wishes to give true dignity of character to her daughter, must, regardless of the sneers of ignorance, proceed on a plan dia­metrically opposite to that which Rousseau has recommended with all the deluding charms of eloquence and philosophical sophistry: for his eloquence renders absurdities plausible, and his dogmatic conclusions puzzle, without convinc­ing, those who have not ability to refute them.

Throughout the whole animal kingdom every young creature requires almost continual exer­cise, and the infancy of children, conformable to this intimation, should be passed in harmless gambols, that exercise the feet and hands, with­out requiring very minute direction from the head, or the constant attention of a nurse. In fact, the care necessary for self-preservation is the first natural exercise of the understanding, as lit­tle inventions to amuse the present moment un­fold the imagination. But these wise designs of nature are counteracted by mistaken fondness or [Page 77] blind zeal. The child is not left a moment to its own direction, particularly a girl, and thus rendered dependent—dependence is called natural.

To preserve personal beauty, woman's glory! the limbs and faculties are cramped with worse than Chinese bands, and the sedentary life which they are condemned to live, whilst boys frolic in the open air, weakens the muscles and relaxes the nerves. —As for Rousseau's remarks, which have since been echoed by several writers, that they have naturally, that is from their birth, in­dependent of education, a fondness for dolls, dressing, and talking—they are so puerile as not to merit a serious refutation. That a girl, con­demned to sit for hours together listening to the idle chat of weak nurses, or to attend at her mo­ther's toilet, will endeavour to join the conversa­tion, is, indeed, very natural; [...]d that she will imitate her mother or aunts, a [...] [...]muse herself by adorning her lifeless doll, as they do in dressing her, poor innocent babe! is undoubtedly a most natural consequence. For men of the greatest abilities have seldom had sufficient strength to rise above the surrounding atmosphere; and, if the page of genius has always been blurred by the prejudices of the age, some allowance should be made for a sex, who like kings, always see things through a false medium.

In this manner may the fondness for dress, conspicuous in women, be easily accounted for, without supposing it the result of a desire to please the sex on which they are dependent. The absurdity, in short, of supposing that a girl is na­turally a coquette, and that a desire connected with [Page 78] the impulse of nature to propagate the species, should appear even before an improper education has, by heating the imagination, called it forth prematurely, is so unphilosophical, that such a sagacious observer as Rousseau would not have adopted it, if he had not been accustomed to make reason give way to his desire of singularity, and truth to a favourite paradox.

Yet thus to give a sex to mind was not very consistent with the principles of a man who ar­gued so warmly, and so well, for the immortality of the soul.—But what a weak barrier is truth when it stands in the way of an hypothesis! Rousseau respected—almost adored virtue—and yet he allowed himself to love with sensual fond­ness. His imagination constantly prepared in­flammable fewel for his inflammable senses; but, in order to reconcile his respect for self­denial, fortitude, and those heroic virtues, which a mind like his could not coolly admire, he la­bours to invert the law of nature, and broaches a doctrine pregnant with mischief and derogato­ry to the character of supreme wisdom.

His ridiculous stories, which tend to prove that girls are naturally attentive to their persons, with­out laying any stress on daily example, are below contempt.—And that a little miss should have such a correct taste as to neglect the pleasing amusement of making O's, merely because she perceived that it was an ungraceful attitude, should be selected with the anecdotes of the learned pig ^*.

[Page 79]I have, probably, had an opportunity of ob­serving more girls in their infancy than J. J. Rousseau—I can recollect my own feelings, and I have looked steadily around me; yet, so far from coinciding with him in opinion respecting the first dawn of the female character, I will ven­ture to affirm, that a girl, whose spirits have not been damped by inactivity, or innocence tainted by false shame, will always be a romp, and the doll will never excite attention unless confine­ment allows her no alternative. Girls and boys, in short, would play harmlessly together, if the distinction of sex was not inculcated long before nature makes any difference.—I will go further, and affirm, as an indisputable fact, that most of the women, in the circle of my observation, who have acted like rational creatures, or shewn any vigour of intellect, have accidentally been allow­ed to run wild—as some of the elegant formers of the fair sex would insinuate.

The baneful consequences which flow from inattention to health during infancy, and youth, extend further than is supposed—dependence of body naturally produces dependence of mind; and how can she be a good wife or mother, the greater part of whose time is employed to guard against or endure sickness? Nor can it be expect­ed that a woman will resolutely endeavour to [Page 80] strengthen her constitution and abstain from en­ervating indulgencies, if artificial notions of beau­ty, and false descriptions of sensibility, have been early entangled with her motives of action. Most men are sometimes obliged to bear with bodily inconveniencies, and to endure, occasionally, the inclemency of the elements; but genteel women are, literally speaking, slaves to their bodies, and glory in their subjection.

I once knew a weak woman of fashion, who was more than commonly proud of her delicacy and sensibility. She thought a distinguishing taste and puny appetite the height of all human perfection, and acted accordingly.—I have seen this weak sophisticated being neglect all the du­ties of life, yet recline with self-complacency on a sofa, and boast of her want of appetite as a proof of delicacy that extended to, or, perhaps, arose from, her exquisite sensibility: for it is diffi­cult to render intelligible such ridiculous jargon. —Yet, at the moment, I have seen her insult a worthy old gentlewoman, whom unexpected misfortunes had made dependent on her ostenta­tious bounty, and who, in better days, had claims on her gratitude. Is it possible that a human creature could have become such a weak and de­praved being, if, like the Sybarites, dissolved in luxury, every thing like virtue had not been worn away, or never impressed by precept, a poor sub­stitute, it is true, for cultivation of mind, though it serves as a fence against vice?

Such a woman is not a more irrational mon­ster than some of the Roman emperors, who were depraved by lawless power. Yet, since [Page 81] kings have been more under the restraint of law, and the curb, however weak, of honour, the re­cords of history are not filled with such unnatu­ral instances of folly and cruelty, nor does the despotism that kills virtue and genius in the bud, hover over Europe with that destructive blast which desolates Turky, and renders the men, as well as the soil, unfruitful.

Women are every where in this deplorable state; for, in order to preserve their innocence, as ignorance is courteously termed, truth is hidden from them, and they are made to assume an arti­ficial character before their faculties have acquired any strength. Taught from their infancy that beauty is woman's sceptre, the mind shapes itself to the body, and, roaming round its gilt cage, only seeks to adorn its prison. Men have various employments and pursuits which engage their at­tention, and give a character to the opening mind; but women, confined to one, and having their thoughts constantly directed to the most in­significant part of themselves, seldom extend their views beyond the triumph of the hour. But was their understanding once emancipated from the slavery to which the pride and sensuality of man and their short-sighted desire, like that of dominion in tyrants, of present sway, has subjected them, we should probably read of their weaknesses with surprise. I must be allowed to pursue the ar­gument a little farther.

Perhaps, if the existence of an evil being was allowed, who, in the allegorical language of scrip­ture, went about seeking whom he should devour, he could not more effectually degrade the human [Page 82] character than by giving a man absolute pow­er.

This argument branches into various ramifica­tions.—Birth, riches, and every extrinsic advan­tage that exalt a man above his fellows, without any mental exertion, sink him in reality below them. In proportion to his weakness, he is played upon by designing men, till the bloated monster has lost all traces of humanity. And that tribes of men, like flocks of sheep, should quietly follow such a leader, is a solecism that only a desire of present enjoyment and narrow­ness of understanding can solve. Educated in slavish dependence, and enervated by luxury and sloth, where shall we find men who will stand forth to assert the rights of man;—or claim the privilege of moral beings, who should have but one road to excellence? Slavery to monarchs and ministers, which the world will be long in freeing itself from, and whose deadly grasp stop the progress of the human mind, is not yet abolished.

Let not men then in the pride of power, use the same arguments that tyrannic kings and venal ministers have used, and fallaciously assert that woman ought to be subjected because she has always been so.—But, when man, governed by reasonable laws, enjoys his natural freedom, let him despise woman, if she do not share it with him; and till that glorious period arrives, in de­scanting on the folly of the sex, let him not over­look his own.

Women, it is true, obtaining power by unjust means, by practising or fostering vice, evidently lose the rank which reason would assign them, and they [Page 83] become either abject slaves or capricious tyrants. They lose all simplicity, all dignity of mind, in acquiring power, and act as men are observed to act when they have been exalted by the same means.

It is time to effect a revolution in female man­ners—time to restore to them their lost dignity— and make them, as a part of the human species, labour by reforming themselves to reform the world. It is time to separate unchangeable mor­als from local manners.—If men be demi-gods— why let us serve them! And if the dignity of the female soul be as disputable as that of animals— if their reason does not afford sufficient light to direct their conduct whilst unerring instinct is denied—they are surely of all creatures the most miserable! and, bent beneath the iron hand of destiny, must submit to be a fair defect in crea­tion. But to justify the ways of Providence re­specting them, by pointing out some irrefragable reason for thus making such a large portion of mankind accountable and not accountable, would puzzle the subtilest casuist.

The only solid foundation for morality appears to be the character of the supreme Being; the harmony of which arises from a balance of attri­butes;—and, to speak with reverence, one attri­bute seems to imply the necessity of another. He must be just, because he is wise, he must be good, because he is omnipotent. For to exalt one at­tribute at the expense of another equally noble and necessary, bears the stamp of the warped rea­son of man—the homage of passion. Man, ac­customed to bow down to power in his savage [Page 84] state, can seldom divest himself of this barbarous prejudice, even when civilization determines how much superior mental is to bodily strength; and his reason is clouded by these crude opinions, even when he thinks of the Deity. His omnip­otence is made to swallow up, or preside over his other attributes, and those mortals are supposed to limit his power irreverently, who think that it must be regulated by his wisdom.

I disclaim that specious humility which, after investigating nature, stops at the author.—The High and Lofty One, who inhabiteth eternity, doubtless possesses many attributes of which we can form no conception; but reason tells me that they cannot clash with those I adore—and I am compelled to listen to her voice.

It seems natural for man to search for excel­lence, and either to trace it in the object that he worships, or blindly to invest it with perfection, as a garment. But what good effect can the latter mode of worship have on the moral con­duct of a rational being? He bends to power; he adores a dark cloud, which may open a bright prospect to him, or burst in angry, lawless fury, on his devoted head—he knows not why. And, supposing that the Deity acts from the vague im­pulse of an undirected will, man must also follow his own, or act according to rules, deduced from principles which he disclaims as irreverent. In­to this dilemma have both enthusiasts and cooler thinkers fallen, when they laboured to free men from the wholesome restraints which a just con­ception of the character of God imposes.

[Page 85]It is not impious thus to scan the attributes of the Almighty: in fact, who can avoid it that exercises his faculties? For to love God as the fountain of wisdom, goodness, and power, ap­pears to be the only worship useful to a being who wishes to acquire either virtue or know­ledge. A blind unsettled affection may, like hu­man passions, occupy the mind and warm the heart, whilst, to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with our God, is forgotten. I shall pursue this subject still further, when I consider religion in a light opposite to that recommended by Dr. Gregory, who treats it as a matter of sen­timent or taste.

To return from this apparent digression. It were to be wished that women would cherish an affection for their husbands, founded on the same principle that devotion ought to rest upon. No other firm base is there under heaven—for let them beware of the fallacious light of sentiment; too often used as a softer phrase for sensuality. It follows then, I think, that from their infancy women should either be shut up like eastern prin­ces, or educated in such a manner as to be able to think and act for themselves.

Why do men halt between two opinions, and expect impossibilities? Why do they expect vir­tue from a slave, from a being whom the consti­tution of civil society has rendered weak, if not vicious?

Still I know that it will require a considerable length of time to eradicate the firmly rooted pre­judices which sensualists have planted; it will also require some time to convince women that [Page 86] they act contrary to their real interest on an en­larged scale, when they cherish or affect weak­ness under the name of delicacy, and to convince the world that the poisoned source of female vices and follies, if it be necessary, in compliance with custom, to use synonymous terms in a lax sense, has been the sensual homage paid to beauty:—to beauty of features; for it has been shrewdly ob­served by a German writer, that a pretty woman, as an object of desire, is generally allowed to be so by men of all descriptions; whilst a fine wo­man, who inspires more sublime emotions by dis­playing intellectual beauty, may be overlooked or observed with indifference, by those men who find their happiness in the gratification of their appetites. I foresee an obvious retort—whilst man remains such an imperfect being as he ap­pears hitherto to have been, he will, more or less, be the slave of his appetites; and those women obtaining most power who gratify a predominant one, the sex is degraded by a physical, if not by a moral necessity.

This objection has, I grant, some force; but while such a sublime precept exists, as, 'be pure as your heavenly Father is pure;' it would seem that the virtues of man are not limited by the Be­ing who alone could limit them; and that he may press forward without considering whether he steps out of his sphere by indulging such a noble ambition. To the wild billows it has been said, ‘thus far shalt thou go, and no further; and here shall thy proud waves be stayed.’ Vainly then do they beat and foam▪ restrained by the power that confines the struggling planets in [Page 87] their orbits, matter yields to the great governing Spirit.—But an immortal soul, not restrained by mechanical laws and struggling to free itself from the shackles of matter, contributes to, instead of disturbing, the order of creation, when, co-op­erating with the Father of spirits, it tries to gov­ern itself by the invariable rule that, in a degree, before which our imagination faints, the universe is regulated.

Besides, if women are educated for depend­ence; that is, to act according to the will of an­other fallible being, and submit, right or wrong, to power, where are we to stop? Are they to be considered as vicegerents allowed to reign over a small domain, and answerable for their conduct to a higher tribunal, liable to error?

It will not be difficult to prove that such dele­gates will act like men subjected by fear, and make their children and servants endure their tyran­nical oppression. As they submit without rea­son, they will, having no fixed rules to square their conduct by, be kind, or cruel, just as the whim of the moment directs; and we ought not to wonder if sometimes, galled by their heavy yoke, they take a malignant pleasure in resting it on weaker shoulders.

But, supposing a woman, trained up to obedi­ence, be married to a sensible man, who directs her judgment without making her feel the ser­vility of her subjection, to act with as much pro­priety by this reflected light as can be expected when reason is taken at second hand, yet she can­not ensure the life of her protector; he may die and leave her with a large family.

[Page 88]A double duty devolves on her; to educate them in the character of both father and mother; to form their principles and secure their proper­ty. But, alas! she has never thought, much less acted for herself. She has only learned to please ^* men, to depend gracefully on them; yet, en­cumbered with children, how is she to obtain another protector—a husband to supply the place of reason? A rational man, for we are not tread­ing on romantic ground, though he may think her a pleasing docile creature, will not choose to marry a family for love, when the world contains many more pretty creatures. What is then to become of her? She either falls an easy prey to some mean fortune-hunter, who defrauds her children of their paternal inheritance, and renders her miserable; or becomes the victim of discon­tent [Page 89] and blind indulgence. Unable to educate her sons, or impress them with respect; for it is not a play on words to assert, that people are never respected, though filling an important sta­tion, who are not respectable; she pines under the anguish of unavailing impotent regret. The serpent's tooth enters into her very soul, and the vices of licentious youth bring her with sorrow, if not with poverty also, to the grave.

This is not an overcharged picture; on the con­trary, it is a very possible case, and something similar must have fallen under every attentive eye.

I have, however, taken it for granted, that she was well-disposed, though experience shews, that the blind may as easily be led into a ditch as along the beaten road. But supposing no very impro­bable conjecture, that a being only taught to please must still find her happiness in pleasing; —what an example of folly, not to say vice, will she be to her innocent daughters! The mother will be lost in the coquette, and instead of mak­ing friends of her daughters, view them with eyes askance, for they are rivals—rivals more cruel than any other, because they invite a com­parison, and drive her from the throne of beauty, who has never thought of a seat on the bench of reason.

It does not require a lively pencil, or the dis­criminating outline of a caricature, to sketch the domestic miseries and petty vices which such a mistress of a family diffuses. Still she only acts as a woman ought to act, brought up accord­ing to Rousseau's system. She can never be re­proached [Page 90] for being masculine, or turning out of her sphere; nay, she may observe another of his grand rules, and cautiously preserving her repu­tation free from spot, be reckoned a good kind of woman. Yet in what respect can she be termed good? She abstains, it is true, without any great struggle, from committing gross crimes; but how does she fulfil her duties? Duties!—in truth she has enough to think of to adorn her body and nurse a weak constitution.

With respect to religion, she never presumed to judge for herself; but conformed, as a depend­ent creature should, to the ceremonies of the church which she was brought up in, piously believing that wiser heads than her own have set­tled that business:—and not to doubt is her point of perfection. She therefore pays her tythe of mint and cummin—and thanks her God that she is not as other women are. These are the bles­sed effects of a good education! These the virtues of man's help-mate ^*!

I must relieve myself by drawing a different picture.

Let fancy now present a woman with a tolera­ble understanding, for I do not wish to leave the line of mediocrity, whose constitution, strength­ened by exercise, has allowed her body to acquire its full vigour; her mind, at the same time, gra­dually [Page 91] expanding itself to comprehend the moral duties of life, and in what human virtue and dig­nity consist.

Formed thus by the discharge of the relative duties of her station, she marries from affection, without losing sight of prudence, and looking beyond matrimonial felicity, she secures her hus­band's respect before it is necessary to exert mean arts to please him and feed a dying flame, which nature doomed to expire when the object became familiar, when friendship and forbearance take place of a more ardent affection.—This is the natural death of love, and domestic peace is not destroyed by struggles to prevent its extinction. I also suppose the husband to be virtuous; or she is still more in want of independent principles.

Fate, however, breaks this tie.—She is left a widow, perhaps, without a sufficient provision; but she is not desolate! The pang of nature is felt; but after time has softened sorrow into me­lancholy resignation, her heart turns to her chil­dren with redoubled fondness, and anxious to provide for them, affection gives a sacred heroic cast to her maternal duties. She thinks that not only the eye sees her virtuous efforts from whom all her comfort now must flow, and whose appro­bation is life; but her imagination, a little ab­stracted and exalted by grief, dwells on the fond hope that the eyes which her trembling hand closed, may still see how she subdues every way­ward passion to fulfil the double duty of being the father as well as the mother of her children. Raised to heroism by misfortunes, she represses the first faint dawning of a natural inclination, [Page 92] before it ripens into love, and in the bloom of life forgets her sex—forgets the pleasure of an awakening passion, which might again have been inspired and returned. She no longer thinks of pleasing, and conscious dignity prevents her from priding herself on account of the praise which her conduct demands. Her children have her love, and her brightest hopes are beyond the grave, where her imagination often strays.

I think I see her surrounded by her children, reaping the reward of her care. The intelligent eye meets hers, whilst health and innocence smile on their chubby cheeks, and as they grow up the cares of life are lessened by their grateful attention. She lives to see the virtues which she endea­voured to plant on principles fixed into habits, to see her children attain a strength of character sufficient to enable them to endure adversity with­out forgetting their mother's example.

The task of life thus fulfilled, she calmly waits for the sleep of death, and rising from the grave, may say—Behold, thou gavest me a talent—and here are five talents.

I wish to sum up what I have said in a few words, for I here throw down my gauntlet, and deny the existence of sexual virtues, not excepting modesty. For man and woman, truth, if I un­derstand the meaning of the word, must be the same; yet the fanciful female character, so pret­tily drawn by poets and novelists, demanding the sacrifice of truth and sincerity, virtue becomes a relative idea, having no other foundation than utility, and of that utility men pretend arbitrari­ly to judge, shaping it to their own convenience.

[Page 93]Women, I allow, may have different duties to fulfil; but they are human duties, and the prin­ciples that should regulate the discharge of them, I sturdily maintain, must be the same.

To become respectable, the exercise of their un­derstanding is necessary, there is no other foun­dation for independence of character; I mean ex­plicitly to say that they must only bow to the authority of reason, instead of being the modest slaves of opinion.

In the superiour ranks of life how seldom do we meet with a man of superior abilities, or even common acquirements? The reason appears to me clear, the state they are born in was an unnatural one. The human character has ever been form­ed by the employments the individual, or class, pursues; and if the faculties are not sharpened by necessity, they must remain obtuse. The argu­ment may fairly be extended to women; for, seldom occupied by serious business, the pursuit of pleasure gives that insignificancy to their cha­racter which renders the society of the great so insipid. The same want of firmness, produced by a similar cause, forces them both to fly from them­selves to noisy pleasures, and artificial passions, till vanity takes place of every social affection, and the characteristics of humanity can scarcely be discern­ed. Such are the blessings of civil governments, as they are at present organized, that wealth and female softness equally tend to debase mankind, and are produced by the same cause; but allowing women to be rational creatures, they should be in­cited to acquire virtues which they may call their own, for how can a rational being be ennobled by any thing that is not obtained by its own exer­tions?

CHAP. IV. OBSERVATIONS ON THE STATE OF DEGRA­DATION TO WHICH WOMAN IS REDUCED BY VARIOUS CAUSES.

THAT woman is naturally weak, or de­graded by a concurrence of circumstances, is, I think, clear. But this position I shall simply con­trast with a conclusion, which I have frequen­ly heard fall from sensible men in favour of an aristocracy: that the mass of mankind cannot be any thing, or the obsequious slaves, who patient­ly allow themselves to be penned up, would feel their own consequence, and spurn their chains. Men, they further observe, submit every where to oppression, when they have only to lift up their heads to throw off the yoke; yet, instead of asserting their birthright, they quietly lick the dust, and say, let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die. Women, I argue from analogy, are de­graded by the same propensity to enjoy the pre­sent moment; and, at last, despise the freedom which they have not sufficient virtue to struggle to attain. But I must be more explicit.

With respect to the culture of the heart, it is unanimously allowed that sex is out of the ques­tion; but the line of subordination in the mental powers is never to be passed over ^*. Only 'ab­solute [Page 95] in loveliness,' the portion of rationality granted to woman, is indeed very scanty; for, de­nying her genius and judgment, it is scarcely pos­sible to divine what remains to characterize intel­lect.

The stamina of immortality, if I may be al­lowed the phrase, is the perfectibility of human reason: for, was man created perfect, or did a flood of knowledge break in upon him, when he arrived at maturity, that precluded error, I should doubt whether his existence would be continued after the dissolution of the body. But, in the present state of things, every difficulty in morals that escapes from human discussion, and equally baffles the investigation of profound thinking, and the lightning glance of genius, is an argu­ment on which I build my belief of the immor­tality of the soul. Reason is, consequentially, the simple power of improvement; or, more proper­ly speaking, of discerning truth. Every individu­al is in this respect a world in itself. More or less may be conspicuous in one being than an­other; but the nature of reason must be the same in all, if it be an emanation of divinity, the tie that connects the creature with the Creator; for, can that soul be stamped with the heavenly im­age, that is not perfected by the exercise of its [Page 96] own reason ^*? Yet outwardly ornamented with elaborate care, and so adorned to delight man, 'that with honour he may love ^†,' the soul of woman is not allowed to have this distinction, and man, ever placed between her and reason, she is always represented as only created to see through a gross medium, and to take things on trust. But, dismissing these fanciful theories, and considering woman as a whole, let it be what it will, instead of a part of man, the in­quiry is whether she has reason or not. If she has, which, for a moment, I will take for grant­ed, she was not created merely to be the solace of man, and the sexual should not destroy the hu­man character.

Into this error men have, probably, been led by viewing education in a false light; not consider­ing it as the first step to form a being advanc­ing gradually towards perfection ^‡; but only as a preparation for life. On this sensual error, for I must call it so, has the false system of fe­male manners been reared, which robs the whole sex of its dignity, and classes the brown and fair with the smiling flowers that only adorns the land. This has ever been the language of men, and the fear of departing from a supposed sexual character, has made even women of superiour [Page 97] sense adopt the same sentiments ^*. Thus under­standing, strictly speaking, has been denied to woman; and instinct, sublimated into wit and cunning, for the purposes of life, has been sub­stituted in its stead.

The power of generalizing ideas, of drawing comprehensive conclusions from individual ob­servations, is the only acquirement, for an im­mortal being, that really deserves the name of knowledge. Merely to observe, without endea­vouring to account for any thing, may (in a very incomplete manner) serve as the common sense of life; but where is the store laid up that is to clothe the soul when it leaves the body?

This power has not only been denied to wo­men; but writers have insisted that it is incon­sistent, [Page 98] with a few exceptions, with their sexual character. Let men prove this, and I shall grant that woman only exists for man. I must, how­ever, previously remark, that the power of gen­eralizing ideas, to any great extent, is not very common amongst men or women. But this ex­ercise is the true cultivation of the understand­ing; and every thing conspires to render the cul­tivation of the understanding more difficult in the female than the male world.

I am naturally led by this assertion to the main subject of the present chapter, and shall now at­tempt to point out some of the causes that degrade the sex, and prevent women from generalizing their observations.

I shall not go back to the remote annals of an­tiquity to trace the history of woman; it is suf­ficient to allow that she has always been either a slave, or a despot, and to remark, that each of these situations equally retards the progress of reason. The grand source of female folly and vice has ever appeared to me to arise from nar­rowness of mind; and the very constitution of civil governments has put almost insuperable ob­stacles in the way to prevent the cultivation of the female understanding:—yet virtue can be built on no other foundation! The same obstacles are thrown in the way of the rich, and the same consequences ensue.

Necessity has been proverbially termed the mother of invention—the aphorism may be ex­tended to virtue. It is an acquirement, and an acquirement to which pleasure must be sacrificed —and who sacrifice [...] pleasure when it is within [Page 99] the grasp, whose mind has not been opened and strengthened by adversity, or the pursuit of know­ledge goaded on by necessity?—Happy is it when people have the cares of life to struggle with; for these struggles prevent their becoming a prey to enervating vices, merely from idleness! But, if from their birth men and women are placed in a torrid zone, with the meridian sun of pleasure darting directly upon them, how can they suffi­ciently brace their minds to discharge the duties of life, or even to relish the affections that carry them out of themselves?

Pleasure is the business of woman's life, ac­cording to the present modification of society, and while it continues to be so, little can be ex­pected from such weak beings. Inheriting, in a lineal descent from the first fair defect in na­ture, the sovereignty of beauty, they have, to maintain their power, resigned the natural rights, which the exercise of reason might have procur­ed them, and chosen rather to be short-lived queens than labour to obtain the sober pleasures that arise from equality. Exalted by their infe­riority (this sounds like a contradiction) they constantly demand homage as women, though ex­perience should teach them that the men who pride themselves upon paying this arbitrary inso­lent respect to the sex, with the most scrupulous exactness, are most inclined to tyrannize over, and despise, the very weakness they cherish. Oft­en do they repeat Mr. Hume's sentiments; when, comparing the French and Athenian character, he alludes to women. ‘But what is more singular in this whimsical nation, say I to the Athenians, [Page 100] is, that a frolick of yours during the Saturnalia, when the slaves are served by their masters, is, seriously, continued by them through the whole year, and through the whole course of their lives; accompanied too with some circum­stances, which still further augment the absur­dity and ridicule. Your sport only elevates for a few days those whom fortune has thrown down, and whom she too, in sport, may really elevate for ever above you. But this nation gravely exalts those, whom nature has subjected to them, and whose inferiority and infirmities are absolutely incurable. The women, though without virtue, are their masters and sovereigns.’

Ah! why do women, I write with affection­ate solicitude, condescend to receive a degree of attention and respect from strangers, different from that reciprocation of civility which the dic­tates of humanity and the politeness of civiliza­tion authorise between man and man? And, why do they not discover, when 'in the noon of beau­ty's power,' that they are treated like queens on­ly to be deluded by hollow respect, till they are led to resign, or not assume, their natural pre­rogatives? Confined then in cages like the fea­thered race, they have nothing to do but to plume themselves, and stalk with mock majesty from perch to perch. It is true they are provided with food and raiment, for which they neither toil nor spin; but health, liberty, and virtue, are given in exchange. But, where, amongst man­kind has been found sufficient strength of mind to enable a being to resign these adventitious pre­rogatives; one who, rising with the calm digni­ty [Page 101] of reason above opinion, dared to be proud of the privileges inherent in man? And it is vain to expect it whilst hereditary power chokes the affections and nips reason in the bud.

The passions of men have thus placed women on thrones, and, till mankind become more rea­sonable, it is to be feared that women will avail themselves of the power which they attain with the least exertion, and which is the most indis­putable. They will smile,—yes, they will smile, though told that—

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

Lewis the XIVth, in particular, spread facti­tious manners, and caught, in a specious way, the whole nation in his toils; for, establishing an artful chain of despotism, he made it the interest of the people at large, individually to respect his station and support his power. And women, whom he flattered by a puerile attention to the whole sex, obtained in his reign that prince-like distinction so fatal to reason and virtue.

A king is always a king—and a woman al­ways a woman ^*: his authority and her sex, ever stand between them and rational converse. With a lover, I grant, she should be so, and her sensi­bility will naturally lead her to endeavour to ex­cite emotion, not to gratify her vanity, but her [Page 102] heart. This I do not allow to be coquetry, it is the artless impulse of nature, I only exclaim against the sexual desire of conquest when the heart is out of the question.

This desire is not confined to women; ‘I have endeavoured,’ says Lord Chesterfield, ‘to gain the hearts of twenty women, whose per­sons I would not have given a fig for.’ The libertine, who, in a gust of passion, takes advan­tage of unsuspecting tenderness, is a saint when compared with this cold-hearted rascal; for I like to use significant words. Yet only taught to please, women are always on the watch to please, and with true heroic ardour endeavour to gain hearts merely to resign, or spurn them, when the victory is decided, and conspicuous.

I must descend to the minutiae of the sub­ject.

I lament that women are systematically degrad­ed by receiving the trivial attentions, which men think it manly to pay to the sex, when, in fact, they are insultingly supporting their own superiority. It is not condescension to bow to an inferiour. So ludicrous, in fact, do these ceremonies appear to me, that I scarcely am able to govern my mus­cles, when I see a man start with eager, and seri­ous solicitude to lift a handkerchief, or shut a door, when the lady could have done it herself, had she only moved a pace or two.

A wild wish has just flown from my heart to my head, and I will not stifle it though it may excite a horse-laugh.—I do earnestly wish to see the distinction of sex confounded in society, un­less where love animates the behaviour. For this [Page 103] distinction is, I am firmly persuaded, the founda­tion of the weakness of character ascribed to wo­man; is the cause why the understanding is ne­glected, whilst accomplishments are acquired with sedulous care: and the same cause accounts for their preferring the graceful before the heroic virtues.

Mankind, including every description, wish to be loved and respected for something; and the com­mon herd will always take the nearest road to the completion of their wishes. The respect paid to wealth and beauty is the most certain, and une­quivocal; and, of course, will always attract the vulgar eye of common minds. Abilities and vir­tues are absolutely necessary to raise men from the middle rank of life into notice; and the natural consequence is notorious, the middle rank con­tains most virtue and abilities. Men have thus, in one station, at least, an opportunity of exerting themselves with dignity, and of rising by the exer­tions which really improve a rational creature; but the whole female sex are, till their character is formed, in the same condition as the rich: for they are born, I now speak of a state of civiliza­tion, with certain sexual privileges, and whilst they are gratuitously granted them, few will ever think of works of supererogation, to obtain the esteem of a small number of superiour people.

When do we hear of women who, starting out of obscurity, boldly claim respect on account of their great abilities or daring virtues? Where are they to be found?— ‘To be observed, to be at­tended to, to be taken notice of with sympathy, complacency, and approbation, are all the advan­tages [Page 104] which they seek.’ —True! my male read­ers will probably exclaim; but let them, before they draw any conclusion, recollect that this was not written originally as descriptive of women, but of the rich. In Dr. Smith's Theory of Mor­al Sentiments, I have found a general character of people of rank and fortune, that, in my opinion, might with the greatest propriety be applied to the female sex. I refer the sagacious reader to the whole comparison; but must be allowed to quote a passage to enforce an argument that I mean to insist on, as the one most conclusive against a sex­ual character. For if, excepting warriors, no great men, of any denomination, have ever appeared amongst the nobility, may it not be fairly inferred that their local situation swallowed up the man, and produced a character similar to that of women, who are localized, if I may be allowed the word, by the rank they are placed in, by courtesy? Wo­men, commonly called Ladies, are not to be con­tradicted in company, are not allowed to exert any manual strength; and from them the negative vir­tues only are expected, when any virtues are ex­pected, patience, docility, good-humour, and flex­ibility; virtues incompatible with any vigorous exertion of intellect. Besides, by living more with each other, and being seldom absolutely alone, they are more under the influence of sentiments than passions. Solitude and reflection are neces­sary to give to wishes the force of passions, and to enable the imagination to enlarge the object, and make it the most desirable. The same may be said of the rich; they d [...] not sufficiently deal in general ideas, collected by impassioned thinking, [Page 105] or calm investigation, to acquire that strength of character on which great resolves are built. But hear what an acute observer says of the great.

‘Do the great seem insensible of the easy price at which they may acquire the publick admira­tion; or do they seem to imagine that to them, as to other men, it must be the purchase either of sweat or of blood? By what important ac­complishments is the young nobleman instruct­ed to support the dignity of his rank, and to ren­der himself worthy of that superiority over his fellow-citizens, to which the virtue of his an­cestors had raised them? Is it by knowledge, by industry, by patience, by self-denial, or by virtue of any kind? As all his words, as all his motions are attended to, he learns an habitual regard to every circumstance of ordinary behaviour, and studies to perform all those small duties with the most exact propriety. As he is conscious how much he is observed, and how much man­kind are disposed to favour all his inclinations, he acts, upon the most indifferent occasions with that freedom and elevation which the thought of this naturally inspires. His air, his manner, his deportment, all mark that elegant and grace­ful sense of his own superiority, which those who are born to inferiour station can hardly ever arrive at. These are the arts by which he pro­poses to make mankind more easily submit to his authority, and to govern their inclinations according to his own pleasure: and in this he is seldom disappointed. These arts, supported by rank and pre-eminence, are, upon ordinary occasions, sufficient to govern the world. Lew­is [Page 106] XIV. during the greater part of his reign, was regarded, not only in France, but over all Europe, as the most perfect model of a great prince. But what were the talents and virtues by which he acquired this great reputation? Was it by the scrupulous and inflexible justice of all his undertakings, by the immense dangers and difficulties with which they were attended, or by the unwearied and unrelenting applica­tion with which he pursued them? Was it by his extensive knowledge, by his exquisite judg­ment, or by his heroic valour? It was by none of these qualities. But he was, first of all, the most powerful prince in Europe, and conse­quently held the highest rank among kings; and then, says his historian, ‘he surpassed all his courtiers in the gracefulness of his shape, and the majestic beauty of his features. The sound of his voice, noble and affecting, gained those hearts which his presence intimidated. He had a step and a deportment which could suit only him and his rank, and which would have been ridiculous in any other person. The embarrassment which he occasioned to those who spoke to him, flattered that secret satis­faction with which he felt his own superiori­ty.’ These frivolous accomplishments, sup­ported by his rank, and, no doubt too, by a de­gree of other talents and virtues, which seems, however, not to have been much above medi­ocrity, established this prince in the esteem of his own age, and have drawn, even from pos­terity, a good deal of respect for his memory. Compared with these, in his own times, and in [Page 107] his own presence, no other virtue, it seems, ap­peared to have any merit. Knowledge, indus­try, valour, and beneficence, trembled, were abashed, and lost all dignity before them.’

Woman also thus 'in herself complete,' by possessing all these frivolous accomplishments, so changes the nature of things

And all this is built on her loveliness!

In the middle rank of life, to continue the comparison, men, in their youth, are prepared for professions, and marriage is not considered as the grand feature in their lives; whilst women, on the contrary, have no other scheme to sharpen their faculties. It is not business, extensive plans, or any of the excursive flights of ambition, that engross their attention; no, their thoughts are not employed in rearing such noble structures. To rise in the world, and have the liberty of run­ning from pleasure to pleasure, they must marry advantageously, and to this object their time is sacrificed, and their persons often legally prosti­tuted. A man when be enters any profession has his eye steadily fixed on some future advantage (and the mind gains great strength by having all its efforts directed to one point) and, full of his business, pleasure is considered as mere relaxation; whilst women seek for pleasure as the main pur­pose of existence. In fact, from the education, [Page 108] which they receive from society, the love of pleasure may be said to govern them all; but does this prove that there is a sex in souls? It would be just as rational to declare that the court­iers in France, when a destructive system of des­potism had formed their character, were not men, because liberty, virtue, and humanity, were sa­crificed to pleasure and vanity.—Fatal passions, which have ever domineered over the whole race!

The same love of pleasure, fostered by the whole tendency of their education, gives a tri­fling turn to the conduct of women in most cir­cumstances: for instance, they are ever anxious about secondary things; and on the watch for adventures, instead of being occupied by duties.

A man, when he undertakes a journey, has, in general, the end in view; a woman thinks more of the incidental occurrences, the strange things that may possibly occur on the road; the im­pression that she may make on her fellow-travel­lers; and, above all, she is anxiously intent on the care of the finery that she carries with her, which is more than ever a part of herself, when going to figure on a new scene; when, to use an apt French turn of expression, she is going to produce a sensation.—Can dignity of mind exist with such trivial cares?

In short, women, in general, as well as the rich of both sexes, have acquired all the follies and vices of civilization, and missed the useful fruit. It is not necessary for me always to premise, that I speak of the condition of the whole sex, leaving exceptions out of the question. Their senses are inflamed, and their understandings neglected, [Page 109] consequently they become the prey of their sens­es, delicately termed sensibility, and are blown about by every momentary gust of feeling. They are, therefore, in a much worse condition than they would be in were they in a state nearer to nature. Ever restless and anxious, their over ex­ercised sensibility not only renders them uncom­fortable themselves, but troublesome, to use a soft phrase, to others. All their thoughts turn on things calculated to excite emotion; and feel­ing, when they should reason, their conduct is unstable, and their opinions are wavering—not the wavering produced by deliberation or pro­gressive views, but by contradictory emotions. By fits and starts they are warm in many pursuits; yet this warmth, never concentrated into perse­verance, soon exhausts itself; exhaled by its own heat, or meeting with some other fleeting pas­sion, to which reason has never given any speci­fic gra [...]ity, neutrality ensues. Miserable, indeed, must be that being whose cultivation of mind has only tended to inflame its passions! A dis­tinction should be made between inflaming and strengthening them. The passions thus pamper­ed, whilst the judgment is le [...]t unformed, what can be expected to ensue?—Undoubtedly, a mixture of madness and folly!

This observation should not be confined to the fair sex; however, at present, I only mean to ap­ply it to them.

Novels, music, poetry, and gallantry, all tend to make women the creatures of sensation, and their character is thus formed during the time they are acquiring accomplishments, the only im­provement [Page 110] they are excited, by their station in society, to acquire. This overstretched sensibil­ity naturally relaxes the other powers of the mind, and prevents intellect from attaining that sovereignty which it ought to attain to render a rational creature useful to others, and content with its own station: for the exercise of the un­derstanding, as life advances, is the only method pointed out by nature to calm the passions.

Satiety has a very different effect, and I have often been forcibly struck by an emphatical de­scription of damnation:—when the spirit is re­presented as continually hovering with abortive eagerness round the defiled body, unable to enjoy any thing without the organs of sense. Yet, to their senses, are women made slaves, because it is by their sensibility that they obtain present power.

And will moralists pretend to assert, that this is the condition in which one half of the human race should be encouraged to remain with listless inactivity and stupid acquiescence? Kind in­struct us! what were we created for? To remain, it may be said, innocent, they mean in a state of childhood.—We might as well never have been born, unless it were necessary that we should be created to enable man to acquire the noble privilege of reason, the power of discerning good from evil, whilst we lie down in the dust from whence we were taken, never to rise again.—

It would be an endless task to trace the variety of meannesses, cares, and sorrows, into which women are plunged by the prevailing opinion, that they were created rather to feel than reason, [Page 111] and that all the power they obtain, must be ob­tained by their charms and weakness: ‘'Fine by defect, and amiably weak!’ And, made by this amiable weakness entirely de­pendent, excepting what they gain by illicit sway, on man, not only for protection, but [...]dvice, is it surprising that, neglecting the duties that reason [...]one points out, and shrinking from t [...]s calculated to strengthen their minds, they only exert themselves to give their defects a graceful covering, which may serve to heighten their charms in the eye of the voluptuary, though it sink them below the scale of moral excellence?

Fragile in every sense of the word, they are obliged to look up to man for every comfort. In the most trifling dangers they cling to their support, with parasitical tenacity, piteously de­manding succour; and their natural protector extends his arm, or lifts up his voice, to guard the lovely trembler—from what? Perhaps the frown of an old cow, or the jump of a mouse; a rat, would be a serious danger. In the name of reason, and even common sense, what can save such beings from contempt; even though they be soft and fair?

These fears, when not affected, may be very pretty; but they shew a degree of imbecility that degrades a rational creature in a way women are not aware of—for love and esteem are very dis­tinct things.

I am fully persuaded that we should hear of none of these infantile airs, if girls were allowed to take sufficient exercise, and not confined in close [Page 112] rooms till their muscles are relaxed, and their powers of digestion destroyed. To carry the re­mark still further, if fear in girls, instead of be­ing cherished, perhaps, created, was treated in the same manner as cowardice in boys, we should quickly see women with more dignified aspects. It is true, they could not than with equal pro­priety be termed the sweet flowers that smile in the walk of man; but they would be more re­spectable members of society, and discharge the important duties of life by the light of their own reason. 'Educate women like men,' says Rous­seau, ‘and the more they resemble our sex the less power will they have over us.’ This is the very point I aim a [...]. I do not wish them to have power over men; but over themselves.

In the same strain have I heard men argue against instructing the poor; for many are the forms that aristocracy assumes. ‘Teach them to read and write,’ say they, ‘and you take them out of the station assigned them by nature.’ An eloquent Frenchman has answered them, I will borrow his sentiments. But they know not; when they make man a brute, that they may expect every instant to see him transformed into a ferocious beast. Without knowledge there can be no morality!

Ignorance is a frail base for virtue! Yet, that it is the condition for which woman was organ­ized, has been insisted upon by the writers who have most vehemently argued in favour of the su­periority of man; a superiority not in degree, but essence; though, to soften the argument, they have laboured to prove, with chivalrous [Page 113] generosity, that the sexes ought not to be com­pared; man was made to reason, woman to feel; and that together, flesh and spirit, they make the most perfect whole, by blending happily reason and sensibility into one character.

And what is sensibility? ‘Quickness of sen­sation; quickness of perception; delicacy.’ Thus is it defined by Dr. Johnson; and the de­finition gives me no other idea than of the most exquisitely polished instinct. I discern not a trace of the image of God in either sensation or matter. Refined seventy times seven, they are still material; intellect dwells not there; nor will fire ever make lead gold!

I come round to my old argument; if woman be allowed to have an immortal soul, she must have, as the employment of life, an understand­ing to improve. And when, to render the pre­sent state more complete, though every thing proves it to b [...] but a fraction of a mighty sum, she is incited by present gratification to forget her grand destination, Nature is counteracted, or she was born only to procreate and die. Or, grant­ing brutes, of every description, a soul, though not a reasonable one, the exercise of instinct and sensibility may be the step, which they are to take, in this life, towards the attainment of rea­son in the next; so that through all eternity they will lag behind man, who, why we cannot tell, had the power given him of attaining reason in his first mode of existence.

When I treat of the peculiar duties of women, as I should treat of the peculiar duties of a citizen or father, it will be found that I do not mean to [Page 114] insinuate that they should be taken out of their families, speaking of the majority. ‘He that hath wife and children,’ says Lord Bacon, ‘hath giv­en hostages to fortune; for they are impedi­ments to great enterprises, either of virtue or mischief. Certainly the best works, and of greatest merit for the public, have proceeded from the unmarried or childless men.’ I say the same of women. But, the welfare of society is not built on extraordinary exertions; and were it more reasonably organized, there would be still less need of great abilities, or heroic vir­tues.

In the regulation of a family, in the education of children, understanding, in an unsophisticated sense, is particularly required: strength both of body and mind; yet the men who, by their writings, have most earnestly laboured to domes­ticate women, have endeavoured, by arguments dictated by a gross appetite, that satiety had ren­dered fastidious, to weaken their bodies and cramp their minds. But, if even by these sinister me­thods they really persuaded women, by working on their feelings, to stay at home, and fulfil the duties of a mother and mistress of a family, I should cautiously oppose opinions that led wo­men to right conduct, by prevailing on them to make the discharge of a duty the business of life, though reason were insulted. Yet, and I appeal to experience, if by neglecting the understanding they are as much, nay, more detached from these domestic duties, than they could be by the most serious intellectual pursuit, though it may be ob­served that the mass of mankind will never vigor­ously [Page 115] pursue an intellectual object ^*, I may be allowed to infer that reason is absolutely necessary to enable a woman to perform any duty properly, and I must again repeat, that sensibility is not rea­son.

The comparison with the rich still occurs to me; for, when men neglect the duties of hu­manity, women will do the same; a common stream hurries them both along with thought­less celerity. Riches and honours prevent a man from enlarging his understanding, and enervate all his powers by reversing the order of nature, which has ever made true pleasure the reward of labour. Pleasure—enervating pleasure is, like­wise, within women's reach without earning it. But, till hereditary possessions are spread abroad, how can we expect men to be proud of virtue? And, till they are, women will govern them by the most direct means, neglecting their dull do­mestic duties to catch the pleasure that is on the wing of time.

'The power of the woman,' says some author, 'is her sensibility;' and men, not aware of the consequence, do all they can to make this power swallow up every other. Those who constantly employ their sensibility will have most; for ex­ample; poets, painters, and composers ^†. Yet, when the sensibility is thus increased at the ex­pense of reason, and even the imagination, why [Page 116] do philosophical men complain of their fickle­ness? The sexual attention of man particularly acts on female sensibility, and this sympathy has been exercised from their youth up. A husband cannot long pay those attentions with the pas­sion necessary to excite lively emotions, and the heart, accustomed to lively emotions, turns to a new lover, or pines in secret, the prey of virtue or prudence. I mean when the heart has really been rendered susceptible, and the taste formed; for I am apt to conclude, from what I have seen in fashionable life, that vanity is oftener fostered than sensibility by the mode of educa­tion, and the intercourse between the sexes, which I have reprobated; and that coquetry more frequently proceeds from vanity than from that inconstancy, which overstrained sensibility naturally produces.

Another argument that has had a great weight with me, must, I think, have some force with every considerate, benevolent heart. Girls who have been thus weakly educated, are often cruelly left by their parents without any provision; and, of course, are dependent on, not only the reason, but the bounty of their brothers. These broth­ers are, to view the fairest side of the question, good sort of men, and give as a favour, what chil­dren of the same parents had an equal right to. In this equivocal humiliating situation, a docile female may remain some time, with a tolerable degree of comfort. But, when the brother mar­ries, a probable circumstance, from being consid­ered as the mistress of the family, she is viewed with averted looks as an intruder, an unnecessary [Page 117] burden on the benevolence of the master of the house, and his new partner.

Who can recount the misery, which many un­fortunate beings, whose minds and bodies are equally weak, suffer in such situations—unable to work, and ashamed to beg? The wife, a cold-hearted, narrow-minded, woman, and this is not an unfair supposition; for the present mode of education does not tend to enlarge the heart any more than the understanding, is jealous of the lit­tle kindness which her husband shews to his re­lations; and her sensibility not rising to human­ity, she is displeased at seeing the property of her children lavished on an helpless sister.

These are matters of fact, which have come under my eye, again and again. The conse­quence is obvious, the wife has recourse to cun­ning to undermine the habitual affection, which she is afraid openly to oppose; and neither tears nor caresses are spared till the spy is worked out of her home, and thrown on the world, unpre­pared for its difficulties; or sent, as a great effort of generosity, or from some regard to propriety, with a small stipend, and an uncultivated mind, into joyless solitude.

These two women may be much upon a par, with respect to reason and humanity; and chang­ing situations might have acted just the same self­ish part; but had they been differently educated, the case would also have been very different. The wife would not have had that sensibility, of which self is the centre, and reason might have taught her not to expect, and not even to be flattered, by the affection of her husband, if it led him to vio­late [Page 118] prior duties. She would wish not to love him merely because he loved her, but on account of his virtues; and the sister might have been able to struggle for herself instead of eating the bitter bread of dependence.

I am, indeed, persuaded that the heart, as well as the understanding, is opened by cultivation; and by, which may not appear so clear, strength­ening the organs; I am not now talking of mo­mentary flashes of sensibility, but of affections. And, perhaps, in the education of both sexes, the most difficult task is so to adjust instruction as not to narrow the understanding, whilst the heart is warmed by the generous juices of spring, just raised by the electric fermentation of the season; nor to dry up the feelings by employing the mind in investigations remote from life.

With respect to women, when they receive a careful education, they are either made fine la­dies, brimful of sensibility, and teeming with capricious fancies; or mere notable women. The latter are often friendly, honest creatures, and have a shrewd kind of good sense joined with worldly prudence, that often render them more useful members of society than the fine senti­mental lady, though they possess neither great­ness of mind nor taste. The intellectual world is shut against them; take them out of their fami­ly or neighbourhood, and they stand still; the mind finding no employment, for literature af­fords a fund of amusement which they have never sought to relish, but frequently to despise. The sentiments and taste of more cultivated minds ap­pear ridiculous, even in those whom chance and [Page 119] family connections have led them to love; but in mere acquaintance they think it all affectation.

A man of sense can only love such a woman on account of her sex, and respect her, because she is a trusty servant. He lets her, to preserve his own peace, scold the servants, and go to church in clothes made of the very best materials. A man of her own size of understanding would, probably, not agree so well with her; for he might wish to encroach on her prerogative, and manage some domestic concerns himself. Yet women, whose minds are not enlarged by culti­vation, or the natural selfishness of sensibility ex­panded by reflection, are very unfit to manage a family; for, by an undue stretch of power, they are always tyrannizing to support a superiority that only rests on the arbitrary distinction of for­tune. The evil is sometimes more serious, and domestics are deprived of innocent indulgences; and made to work beyond their strength, in order to enable the notable woman to keep a better table, and outshine her neighbours in finery and parade. If she attend to her children, it is, in general, to dress them in a costly manner—and, whether this attention arises from vanity or fond­ness, it is equally pernicious.

Besides, how many women of this description pass their days; or, at least, their evenings, dis­contentedly. Their husbands acknowledge that they are good managers, and chaste wives; but leave home to seek for more agreeable, may I be allowed to use a significant French word, piquant society; and the patient drudge, who fulfils her task, like a blind horse in a mill, is defrauded of [Page 120] her just reward; for the wages due to her are the caresses of her husband; and women who have so few resources in themselves, do not very patient­ly bear this privation of a natural right.

A fine lady, on the contrary, has been taught to look down with contempt on the vulgar em­ployments of life; though she has only been in­cited to acquire accomplishments that rise a de­gree above sense; for even corporeal accomplish­ments cannot be acquired with any degree of precision unless the understanding has been strengthened by exercise. Without a foundation of principles taste is superficial; and grace must arise from something deeper than imitation. The imagination, however, is heated, and the feelings rendered fastidious, if not sophisticated; or, a counterpoise of judgment is not acquired, when the heart still remains artless, though it becomes too tender.

These women are often amiable; and their hearts are really more sensible to general benevo­lence, more alive to the sentiments that civilize life, than the square-elbowed family drudge; but, wanting a du [...] proportion of reflection and self-government, they only inspire love; and are the mistresses of their husbands, whilst they have any hold on their affections; and the platonic friends of his male acquaintance. These are the fair defects in nature; the women who appear to be created not to enjoy the fellowship of man, but to save him from sinking into absolute bru­tality, by rubbing off the rough angles of his character; and by playful dalliance to give some dignity to the appetite that draws him to them. [Page 121] Gracious Creator of the whole human race! hast thou created such a being as woman, who can trace thy wisdom in thy works, and feel that thou alone art by thy nature, exalted above her,—for no better purpose?—Can she believe that she was only made to submit to man, her equal; a being, who, like her, was sent into the world to acquire virtue?—Can she consent to be occupied merely to please him; merely to adorn the earth, when her soul is capable of rising to thee?—And can she rest supinely dependent on man for rea­son, when she ought to mount with him the ar­duous steeps of knowledge?—

Yet, if love be the supreme good, let women be only educated to inspire it, and let every charm be polished to intoxicate the senses; but, if they are moral beings, let them have a chance to be­come intelligent; and let love to man be only a part of that glowing flame of universal love, which, after encircling humanity, mounts in grateful incense to God.

To fulfil domestic duties much resolution is necessary, and a serious kind of perseverance that requires a more firm support than emotions, how­ever lively and true to nature. To give an exam­ple of order, the soul of virtue, some austerity of behaviour must be adopted, scarcely to be expect­ed from a being who, from its infancy, has been made the weathercock of its own sensations. Whoever rationally means to be useful must have a plan of conduct; and, in the discharge of the simplest duty, we are often obliged to act con­trary to the present impulse of tenderness or com­passion. Severity is frequently the most certain, [Page 122] as well as the most sublime proof of affection; and the want of this power over the feelings, and of that lofty, dignified affection, which makes a person prefer the future good of the beloved object to a present gratification, is the reason why so many fond mothers spoil their children, and has made it questionable whether negligence or indulgence is most hurtful: but I am inclined to think, that the latter has done most harm.

Mankind seem to agree that children should be left under the management of women during their childhood. Now, from all the observation that I have been able to make, women of sensi­bility are the most unfit for this task, because they will infallibly, carried away by their feelings, spoil a child's temper. The management of the temper, the first, and most important branch of education, requires the sober steady eye of rea­son; a plan of conduct equally distant from ty­ranny and indulgence: yet these are the extremes that people of sensibility alternately fall into; al­ways shooting beyond the mark. I have follow­ed this train of reasoning much further, till I have concluded, that a person of genius is the most improper person to be employed in education, public or private. Minds of this rare species see things too much in masses, and seldom, if ever, have a good temper. That habitual cheerful­ness, termed good-humour, is, perhaps, as sel­dom united with great mental powers, as with strong feelings. And those people who follow, with interest and admiration, the flights of ge­nius; or, with cooler approbation suck in the instruction which has been elaborately prepared [Page 123] for them by the profound thinker, ought not to be disgusted, if they find the former choleric, and the latter morose; because liveliness of fancy, and a tenacious comprehension of mind, are scarcely compatible with that pliant urbanity which leads a man, at least, to bend to the opin­ions and prejudices of others, instead of roughly confronting them.

But, treating of education or manners, minds of a superior class are not to be considered, they may be left to chance; it is the multitude, with moderate abilities, who call for instruction, and catch the colour of the atmosphere they breathe. This respectable concourse, I contend, men and women, should not have their sensations height­ened in the hot-bed of luxurious indolence, at the expense of their understanding; for, unless there be a ballast of understanding, they will never become either virtuous or free: an aristoc­racy, founded on property, or sterling talents, will ever sweep before it, the alternately timid, and ferocious, slaves of feeling.

Numberless are the arguments, to take another view of the subject, brought forward with a shew of reason: because supposed to be deduced from nature, that men have used morally and physical­ly, to degrade the sex. I must notice a few.

The female understanding has often been spok­en of with contempt, as arriving sooner at ma­turity than the male. I shall not answer this argument by alluding to the early proofs of rea­son, as well as genius, in Cowley, Milton, and Pope ^*, but only appeal to experience to decide whether young men, who are early introduced [Page 124] into company (and examples now abound) do not acquire the same precocity. So notorious is this fact, that the bare mentioning of it must bring before people, who at all mix in the world, the idea of a number of swaggering apes of men, whose understandings are narrowed by being brought into the society of men when they ought to have been spinning a top or twirling a hoop.

It has also been asserted, by some naturalists, that men do not attain their full growth and strength till thirty; but that women arrive at maturity by twenty. I apprehend that they rea­son on false ground, led astray by the male pre­judice, which deems beauty the perfection of woman—mere beauty of features and complex­ion, the vulgar acceptation of the word, whilst male beauty is allowed to have some connection with the mind. Strength of body, and that character of countenance, which the French term a physionomie, women do not acquire before thirty, any more than men. The little artless tricks of children, it is true, are particularly pleasing and attractive; yet, when the pretty freshness of youth is worn off, these artless graces become studied airs, and disgust every person of taste. In the countenance of girls we only look for vivacity and bashful modesty; but, the spring­tide of life over, we look for soberer sense in the face, and for traces of passion, instead of the dim­ples of animal spirits; expecting to see individ­uality of character, the only fastener of the af­fections ^*. We then wish to converse, not to [Page 125] fondle; to give scope to our imaginations as well as to the sensations of our hearts.

At twenty the beauty of both sexes is equal; but the libertinism of man leads him to make the distinction, and superannuated coquettes are com­monly of the same opinion; for, when they can no longer inspire love, they pay for the vigour and vivacity of youth. The French, who admit more of mind into their notions of beauty, give the preference to women of thirty. I mean to say that they allow women to be in their most perfect state, when vivacity gives place to reason, and to that majestic seriousness of character, which marks maturity;—or, the resting point. In youth, till twenty, the body shoots out, till thir­ty the solids are attaining a degree of density; and the flexible muscles, growing daily more rigid, give character to the countenance; that is, they trace the operations of the mind with the iron pen of fate, and tell us not only what pow­ers are within, but how they have been employ­ed.

It is proper to observe, that animals who ar­rive slowly at maturity, are the longest lived, and of the noblest species. Men cannot, however, claim any natural superiority from the grandeur of longevity; for in this respect nature has not distinguished the male.

Polygamy is another physical degradation; and a plausible argument for a custom, that blasts every domestic virtue, is drawn from the well-attested fact, that in the countries where it is established, more females are born than males. This appears to be an indication of nature, and [Page 126] to nature, apparently reasonable speculations must yield. A further conclusion obviously presented itself; if polygamy be necessary, woman must be inferiour to man, and made for him.

With respect to the formation of the foetus in the womb, we are very ignorant; but it appears to me probable, that an accidental physical cause may account for this phenomenon, and prove it not to be a law of nature. I have met with some pertinent observations on the subject in Forster's Account of the Isles of the South-Sea, that will explain my meaning. After observing that of the two sexes amongst animals, the most vigorous and fiery constitution always prevails, and pro­duces its kind; he adds,— ‘If this be applied to the inhabitants of Africa, it is evident that the men there, accustomed to polygamy, are ener­vated by the use of so many women, and there­fore less vigorous; the women, on the contra­ry, are of a warmer constitution, not only on account of their more irritable nerves, more sen­sible organization, and more lively fancy; but likewise because they are deprived in their ma­trimony of that share of physical love which, in a monogamous condition, would all be theirs; and thus, for the above reasons, the generality of children are born females.’

‘In the greater part of Europe it has been proved by the most accurate lists of mortality, that the proportion of men to women is nearly equal, or, if any difference takes place, the males born are more numerous, in the proportion of 105 to 100.’

[Page 127]The necessity of polygamy, therefore, does not appear; yet when a man seduces a woman, it should, I think, be termed a left-handed marriage, and the man should be legally obliged to maintain the woman and her children, unless adultery, a natural divorce [...] abrogated the law. And this law should [...]in in force as long as the weakness of women caused the word seduction to be used as an excuse for their frailty and want of principle; nay, while they depend on man for a subsistence, instead of earning it by the exertion of their own hands or heads. But these women should not, in the full meaning of their relation­ship, be termed wives, or the very purpose of mar­riage would be subverted, and all those endear­ing charities that flow from personal fidelity, and give a sanctity to the tie, when neither love nor friendship unites the hearts, would melt into selfishness. The woman who is faithful to the father of her children demands respect, and should not be treated like a prostitute; though I readi­ly grant that if it be necessary for a man and wo­man to live together in order to bring up their offspring, nature never intended that a man should have more than one wife.

Still, highly as I respect marriage, as the found­ation of almost every social virtue, I cannot avoid feeling the most lively compassion for those un­fortunate females who are broken off from socie­ty, and by one error torn from all those affections and relationships that improve the heart and mind. It does not frequently even deserve the name of error; for many innocent girls become the dupes of a sincere affectionate heart, and still [Page 128] more are, as it may emphatically be termed, ru­ined before they know the difference between vir­tue and vice:—and thus prepared by their edu­cation for infamy, they become infamous. Asy­lums and Magdalens are not the proper remedies for these abuses. It is justice, not charity, that is wanting in the world!

A woman who has lost her honour, imagines that she cannot fall lower, and as for recovering her former station, it is impossible; no exertion can wash this stain away. Losing thus every spur, and having no other means of support, prostitution becomes her only refuge, and the character is quickly depraved by circumstances over which the poor wretch has little power, unless she possesses an uncommon portion of sense and loftiness of spirit. Necessity never makes prostitution the business of men's lives; though numberless are the women who are thus rendered systematically vicious. This, however, arises, in a great degree, from the state of idleness in which women are educated, who are always taught to look up to man for a maintenance, and to consider their persons as the proper return for his exertions to support them. Meretricious airs, and the whole science of wantonness, has then a more powerful stimulous than either ap­petite or vanity; and this remark gives force to the prevailing opinion, that with chastity all is lost that is respectable in woman. Her charac­ter depends on the observance of one virtue, though the only passion fostered in her heart—is love. Nay, the honour of a woman is not made even to depend on her will.

[Page 129]When Richardson ^* makes Clarissa tell Love­lace that he had robbed her of her honour, he must have had strange notions of honour and vir­tue. For, miserable beyond all names of misery is the condition of a being, who could be de­graded without its own consent! This [...]s of strictness I have heard vindicated as a salutary er­ror. I shall answer in the words of Leibnitz— 'Errors are often useful; but it is commonly to remedy other errors.'

Most of the evils of life arise from a desire of present enjoyment that outruns itself. The obedience required of women in the marriage state comes under this description; the mind naturally weakened by depending on authority, never exerts its own powers, and the obedient wife is thus rendered a weak indolent mother. Or, supposing that this is not always the consequence, a future state of existence is scarcely taken into the reckoning when only negative virtues are cul­tivated. For, in treating of morals, particularly when women are alluded to, writers have too oft­en considered virtue in a very limited sense, and made the foundation of it solely worldly utility; nay, a still more fragile base has been given to this stupendous fabric, and the wayward fluctuating feelings of men have been made the standard of virtue. Yes, virtue as well as religion, has been subjected to the decisions of taste.

It would almost provoke a smile of contempt, if the vain absurdities of man did not strike us on all sides, to observe, how eager men are to degrade [Page 130] the sex from whom they pretend to receive the chief pleasure of life; and I have frequently with full conviction retorted Pope's sarcasm on them; or, to speak explicitly, it has appeared to me ap­plicable to the whole human race. A love of pleasure or sway seems to divide mankind, and the husband who lords it in his little haram thinks only of his pleasure or his convenience. To such lengths, indeed, does an intemperate love of pleasure carry some prudent men, or worn out libertines, who marry to have a safe bed-fellow, that they seduce their own wives.—Hymen ban­ishes modesty, and chaste love takes its flight.

Love, considered as an animal appetite, cannot long feed on itself without expiring. And this extinction, in its own flame, may be termed the violent death of love. But the wife who has thus been rendered licentious, will probably en­deavour to fill the void left by the loss of her husband's attentions; for she cannot contented­ly become merely an upper servant after having been treated like a goddess. She is still hand­some, and, instead of transferring her fondness to her children, she only dreams of enjoying the sunshine of life. Besides, there are many hus­bands so devoid of sense and parental affection, that during the first effervescence of voluptuous fondness they refuse to let their wives suckle their children. They are only to dress and live to please them: and love—even innocent love, soon sinks into lasciviousness, when the exercise of a duty is sacrificed to its indulgence.

Personal attachment is a very happy founda­tion for friendship; yet, when even two virtuous [Page 131] young people marry, it would, perhaps, be hap­py if some circumstances checked their passion; if the recollection of some prior attachment, or disappointed affection, made it on one side, at least, rather a match founded on esteem. In that case they would look beyond the present moment, and try to render the whole of life respectable, by forming a plan to regulate a friendship which only death ought to dissolve.

Friendship is a serious affection; the most su­blime of all affections, because it is founded on principle, and cemented by time. The very re­verse may be said of love. In a great degree, love and friendship cannot subsist in the same bosom; even when inspired by different objects they weak­en or destroy each other, and for the same object can only be felt in succession. The vain fears and fond jealousies, the winds which fan the flame of love, when judiciously or artfully tem­pered, are both incompatible with the tender confidence and sincere respect of friendship.

Love, such as the glowing pen of genius has traced, exists not on earth, or only resides in those exalted, fervid imaginations that have sketched such dangerous pictures. Dangerous, because they not only afford a plausible excuse, to the voluptuary who disguises sheer sensuality under a sentimental veil; but as they spread affectation, and take from the dignity of virtue. Virtue, as the very word imports, should have an appear­ance of seriousness, if not austerity; and to en­deavour to trick her out in the garb of pleasure, because the epithet has been used as another name for beauty, is to exalt her on a quicksand; a most [Page 132] insidious attempt to hasten her fall by apparent respect. Virtue and pleasure are not, in fact, so nearly allied in this life as some eloquent writers have laboured to prove. Pleasure prepares the fading wreath, and mixes the intoxicating cup; but the fruit which virtue gives, is the recom­pence of toil: and, gradually seen as it ripens, only affords calm satisfaction; nay, appearing to be the result of the natural tendency of things, it is scarcely observed. Bread, the common food of life, seldom thought of as a blessing, supports the constitution and preserves health; still feasts delight the heart of man, though disease and even death lurk in the cup or dainty that elevates the spirits or tickles the palate. The lively heated imagination, in the same style, draws the picture of love, as it draws every other picture, with those glowing colours, which the daring hand, will steal from the rainbow that is directed by a mind, con­demned in a world like this, to prove its noble origin by panting after unattainable perfection; ever pursuing what it acknowledges to be a fleet­ing dream. An imagination of this vigorous cast can give existence to insubstantial forms, and sta­bility to the shadowy reveries which the mind naturally falls into when realities are found vapid. It can then depict love with celestial charms, and dote on the grand ideal object—it can imagine a degree of mutual affection that shall refine the soul, and not expire when it has served as a 'scale to heavenly;' and, like devotion, make it absorb every meaner affection and desire. In each oth­ers arms, as in a temple, with its summit lost in the clouds, the world is to be shut out, and every [Page 133] thought and wish, that do not nurture pure af­fection and permanent virtue.—Permanent vir­tue! alas! Rousseau, respectable visionary! thy paradise would soon be violated by the entrance of some unexpected guest. Like Milton's it would only contain angels, or men sunk below the dig­nity of rational creatures. Happiness is not ma­terial, it cannot be seen or felt! Yet the eager pursuit of the good which every one shapes to his own fancy, proclaims man the lord of this lower world, and to be an intelligent creature, who is not to receive, but to acquire happiness. They, therefore, who complain of the delusions of passion, do not recollect that they are exclaim­ing against a strong proof of the immortality of the soul.

But leaving superiour minds to correct them­selves, and pay dearly for their experience, it is necessary to observe, that it is not against strong, persevering passions; but romantic wavering feel­ings that I wish to guard the female heart by exercising the understanding: for these paradisia­cal reveries are oftener the effect of idleness than of a lively fancy.

Women have seldom sufficient serious employ­ment to silence their feelings; a round of little cares, or vain pursuits frittering away all strength of mind and organs, they become naturally only objects of sense.—In short, the whole tenour of female education (the education of society) tends to render the best disposed romantic and incon­stant; and the remainder vain and mean. In the present state of society this evil can scarcely be remedied, I am afraid, in the slightest degree; [Page 134] should a more laudable ambition ever gain ground they may be brought nearer to nature and rea­son; and become more virtuous and useful as they grow more respectable.

But, I will venture to assert that their reason will never acquire sufficient strength to enable it to regulate their conduct, whilst the making an appearance in the world is the first wish of the majority of mankind. To this weak wish the natural affections, and the most useful virtues are sacrificed. Girls marry merely to better them­selves, to borrow a significant vulgar phrase, and have such perfect power over their hearts as not to permit themselves to fall in love till a man with a superiour fortune offers. On this subject I mean to enlarge in a future chapter; it is only ne­cessary to drop a hint at present, because women are so often degraded by suffering the selfish prudence of age to chill the ardour of youth.

From the same source flows an opinion that young girls ought to dedicate great part of their time to needle-work; yet, this employment contracts their faculties more than any other that could have been chosen for them, by con­fining their thoughts to their persons. Men order their clothes to be made, and have done with the subject; women make their own clothes, necessary or ornamental, and are continually talk­ing about them; and their thoughts follow their hands. It is not indeed the making of necessa­ries that weakens the mind; but the frippery of dress. For when a woman in the lower rank of life makes her husband's and children's clothes, she does her duty, this is a part of her business; [Page 135] but when women work only to dress better than they could otherwise afford, it is worse than sheer loss of time. To render the poor virtuous they must be employed, and women in the middle rank of life, did they not ape the fashions of the nobility, without catching their ease, might em­ploy them, whilst they themselves managed their families, instructed their children, and exercised their own minds. Gardening, experimental phi­losophy, and literature, would afford them sub­jects to think of and matter for conversation, that in some degree would exercise their understand­ings. The conversation of French women, who are not so rigidly nailed to their chairs to twist lappets, and knot ribbons, is frequently superfi­cial; but, I contend, that it is not half so insipid as that of those English women whose time is spent in making caps, bonnets, and the whole mischief of trimmings, not to mention shop­ping, bargain-hunting, &c. &c. and it is the decent, prudent women, who are most degraded by these practices; for their motive is simply vanity. The wanton who exercises her taste to render her person alluring, has something more in view.

These observations all branch out of a general one, which I have before made, and which can­not be too often insisted upon, for, speaking of men, women, or professions, it will be found that the employment of the thoughts shapes the character both generally and individually. The thoughts of women ever hover round their per­sons, and is it surprising that their persons are reckoned most valuable? Yet some degree of [Page 136] liberty of mind is necessary even to form the per­son; and this may be one reason why some gen­tle wives have so few attractions beside that of sex. Add to this, sedentary employments render the majority of women sickly—and false notions of female excellence make them proud of this deli­cacy, though it be another fetter, that by calling the attention continually to the body, cramps the activity of the mind.

Women of quality seldom do any of the man­ual part of their dress, consequently only their taste is exercised, and they acquire, by thinking less of the finery, when the business of their toi­let is over, that ease, which seldom appears in the deportment of women, who dress merely for the sake of dressing. In fact, the observation with respect to the middle rank, the one in which talents thrive best, extends not to women; for those of the superiour class, by catching, at least, a smattering of literature, and conversing more with men, on general topics, acquire more know­ledge than the women who ape their fashions and faults without sharing their advantages. With respect to virtue, to use the word in a com­prehensive sense, I have seen most in low life. Many poor women maintain their children by the sweat of their brow, and keep together fami­lies that the vices of the fathers would have scat­tered abroad; but gentle-women are too indolent to be actively virtuous, and are softened rather than refined by civilization. Indeed, the good sense which I have met with, among the poor women who have had few advantages of educa­tion, and yet have acted heroically, strongly con­firmed [Page 137] me in the opinion that trifling employ­ments have rendered woman a trifler. Men, tak­ing her ^* body, the mind is left to rust; so that while physical love enervates man, as being his favourite recreation, he will endeavour to enslave woman:—and, who can tell, how many genera­tions may be necessary to give vigour to the vir­tue and talents of the freed posterity of abject slaves ^†?

In tracing the causes that, in my opinion, have degraded woman, I have confined my observations to such as universally act upon the morals and manners of the whole sex, and to me it appears clear that they all spring from want of understand­ing. Whether this arise from a physical or ac­cidental weakness of faculties, time alone can de­termine; for I shall not lay any great stress on the example of a few women ^‡ who, from hav­ing received a masculine education, have acquired courage and resolution; I only contend that the men who have been placed in similar situations, have acquired a similar character—I speak of bo­dies of men, and that men of genius and talents have started out of a class, in which women have never yet been placed.

CHAP. V. ANIMADVERSIONS ON SOME OF THE WRIT­ERS WHO HAVE RENDERED WOMEN OB­JECTS OF PITY, BORDERING ON CON­TEMPT.

THE opinions speciously supported, in some modern publications on the female character and education, which have given the tone to most of the observations made, in a more cursory man­ner, on the sex, remain now to be examined.

CHAP. VI. THE EFFECT WHICH AN EARLY ASSOCIA­TION OF IDEAS HAS UPON THE CHARAC­TER.

EDUCATED in the enervating style re­commended by the writers on whom I have been animadverting; and not having a chance, from their subordinate state in society, to recover their lost ground, is it surprising that women every where appear a defect in nature? Is it surprising, when we consider what a determinate effect an early association of ideas has on the character, that they, neglect their understandings, and turn all their attention to their persons?

The great advantages which naturally result from storing the mind with knowledge, are ob­vious from the following considerations. The association of our ideas is either habitual or in­stantaneous; and the latter mode seems rather to depend on the original temperature of the mind than on the will. When the ideas, and matters of fact, are once taken in, they lie by for use, till some fortuitous circumstance makes the information dart into the mind with illustrative force, that has been received at very different pe­riods of our lives. Like the lightning's flash are many recollections; one idea assimilating and ex­plaining another, with astonishing rapidity. I do not now allude to that quick perception of truth, which is so intuitive that it baffles research, and [Page 204] makes us at a loss to determine whether it is re­miniscence or ratiocination, lost sight of in its ce­lerity, that opens the dark cloud. Over those instantaneous associations we have little power; for when the mind is once enlarged by excursive flights, or profound reflection, the raw materials will, in some degree, arrange themselves. The understanding, it is true, may keep us from going out of drawing when we group our thoughts, or transcribe from the imagination the warm sketch­es of fancy; but the animal spirits, the individu­al character, give the colouring. Over this sub­tile electric fluid ^*, how little power do we pos­sess, and over it how little power can reason ob­tain! These fine intractable spirits appear to be the essence of genius, and beaming in its eagle eye, produce in the most eminent degree the hap­py energy of associating thoughts that surprise, delight, and instruct. These are the glowing minds that concentrate pictures for their fellow-creatures; forcing them to view with interest the objects reflected from the impassioned imagina­tion, which they passed over in nature.

I must be allowed to explain myself. The generality of people cannot see or feel poetically, they want fancy, and therefore fly from solitude in search of sensible objects; but when an author lends them his eyes they can see as he saw, and be amused by images they could not select, though lying before them.

[Page 205]Education thus only supplies the man of gen­ius with knowledge to give variety and contrast to his associations; but there is an habitual as­sociation of ideas, that grows 'with our growth,' which has a great effect on the moral character of mankind; and by which a turn is given to the mind that commonly remains throughout life. So ductile is the understanding, and yet so stubborn, that the associations which depend on adventitious circumstances, during the period that the body takes to arrive at maturity, can seldom be disentangled by reason. One idea calls up another, its old associate, and memory, faithful to the first impressions, particularly when the in­tellectual powers are not employed to cool our sensations, retraces them with mechanical exact­ness.

This habitual slavery, to first impressions, has a more baneful effect on the female than the male character, because business and other dry employ­ments of the understanding, tend to deaden the feelings and break associations that do violence to reason. But females, who are made women of when they are mere children, and brought back to childhood when they ought to leave the go-cart for ever, have not sufficient strength of mind to efface the superinductions of art that have smothered nature.

Every thing that they see or hear serves to fix impressions, call forth emotions, and associate ideas, that give a sexual character to the mind. False notions of beauty and delicacy stop the growth of their limbs and produce a sickly soreness, rather than delicacy of organs; and thus [Page 206] weakened by being employed in unfolding instead of examining the first associations, forced on them by every surrounding object, how can they attain the vigour necessary to enable them to throw off their factitious character?—where find strength to recur to reason and rise superiour to a system of oppression, that blasts the fair promises of spring? This cruel association of ideas, which every thing conspires to twist into all their habits of thinking, or, to speak with more precision, of feeling, receives new force when they begin to act a little for themselves; for they then perceive that it is only through their address to excite emotions in men, that pleasure and power are to be obtained. Besides, all the books professedly written for their instruction, which make the first impression on their minds, all inculcate the same opinions. Educated then in worse than Egyptian bondage, it is unreasonable, as well as cruel, to upbraid them with faults that can scarce­ly be avoided, unless a degree of native vigour be supposed, that falls to the lot of very few amongst mankind.

For instance, the severest sarcasms have been levelled against the sex, and they have been ridi­culed for repeating ‘a set of phrases learnt by rote,’ when nothing could be more natural, con­sidering the education they receive, and that their 'highest praise is to obey, unargued'—the will of man. If they are not allowed to have reason sufficient to govern their own conduct—why, all they learn—must be learned by rote! And when all their ingenuity is called forth to adjust their dress, 'a passion for a scarlet coat,' is so natural, [Page 207] that it never surprised me; and, allowing Pope's summary of their character to be just, ‘that every woman is at heart a rake,’ why should they be bitterly censured for seeking a congenial mind, and preferring a rake to a man of sense?

Rakes know how to work on their sensibility, whilst the modest merit of reasonable men has, of course, less effect on their feelings, and they cannot reach the heart by the way of the under­standing, because they have few sentiments in common.

It seems a little absurd to expect women to be more reasonable than men in their likings, and still to deny them the uncontrolled use of reason. When do men fall-in-love with sense? When do they, with their superiour powers and advanta­ges, turn from the person to the mind? And how can they then expect women, who are only taught to observe behaviour, and acquire manners rather than morals, to despise what they have been all their lives labouring to attain? Where are they suddenly to find judgment enough to weigh pa­tiently the sense of an awkward virtuous man, when his manners, of which they are made criti­cal judges, are rebuffing, and his conversation cold and dull, because it does not consist of pretty re­partees, or well turned compliments? In order to admire or esteem any thing for a continuance, we must, at least, have our curiosity excited by knowing, in some degree, what we admire; for we are unable to estimate the value of qualities and virtues above our comprehension. Such a respect, when it is felt, may be very sublime; and the confused consciousness of humility may [Page 208] render the dependent creature an [...]teresting ob­ject, in some points of view; but human love must have grosser ingredients; and the person very naturally will come in for its share—and, an ample share it mostly has!

Love is, in a great degree, an arbitrary passion, and will reign, like some other stalking mischiefs, by its own authority, without deigning to rea­son; and it may also be easily distinguished from esteem, the foundation of friendship, because it is often excited by evanescent beauties and graces, though to give an energy to the sentiment, some­thing more solid must deepen their impression and set the imagination to work, to make the most fair—the first good.

Common passions are excited by common qualities.—Men look for beauty and the simper of good-humoured docility: women are capti­vated by easy manners; a gentleman-like man seldom fails to please them, and their thirsty ears eagerly drink the insinuating nothings of polite­ness, whilst they turn from the unintelligible sounds of the charmer—reason, charm he never so wisely. With respect to superficial accom­plishments, the rake certainly has the advantage; and of these females can form an opinion, for it is their own ground. Rendered gay and giddy by the whole tenor of their lives, the very aspect of wisdom, or the severe graces of virtue, must have a lugubrious appearance to them; and pro­duce a kind of restraint from which they and love, sportive child, naturally revolt. Without taste, excepting of the lighter kind, for taste is the offspring of judgment, how can they discover [Page 209] that true beauty and grace must arise from the play of the mind? and how can they be expect­ed to relish in a lover what they do not, or very imperfectly, possess themselves? The sympathy that unites hearts, and invites to confidence, in them is so very faint, that it cannot take fire, and thus mount to passion. No, I repeat it, the love cherished by such minds, must have grosser fuel.

The inference is obvious; till women are led to exercise their understandings, they should not be satirized for their attachment to rakes; nor even for being rakes at heart, when it appears to be the inevitable consequence of their education. They who live to please—must find their enjoy­ments, their happiness, in pleasure! It is a trite, yet true remark, that we never do any thing well, unless we love it for its own sake.

Supposing, however, for a moment, that wo­men were, in some future revolution of time, to become, what I sincerely wish them to be, even love would acquire more serious dignity, and be purified in its own fires; and virtue giving true delicacy to their affections, they would turn with disgust from a rake. Reasoning then, as well as feeling, the only province of woman, at present, they might easily guard against exteriour graces, and quickly learn to despise the sensibility that had been excited and hackneyed in the ways of wo­men, whose trade was vice; and allurements, wanton airs. They would recollect that the flame, one must use appropriated expressions, which they wished to light up, had been ex­hausted by lust, and that the sated appetite losing all relish for pure and simple pleasures, could only [Page 210] be roused by licentious arts or variety. What satisfaction could a woman of delicacy promise herself in a union with such a man, when the very artlessness of her affection might appear in­siped? Thus does Dryden describe the situation,

But one grand truth women have yet to learn, though much it imports them to act according­ly. In the choice of a husband, they should not be led astray by the qualities of a lover—for a lov­er the husband, even supposing him to be wife and virtuous, cannot long remain.

Were women more rationally educated, could they take a more comprehensive view of things, they would be contented to love but once in their lives; and after marriage calmly let passion sub­side into friendship—into that tender intimacy, which is the best refuge from care; yet is built on such pure, still affections, that idle jealousies would not be allowed to disturb the discharge of the sober duties of life, nor to engross the thoughts that ought to be otherwise employed. This is a state in which many men live▪ but few, very few women. And the difference may easily be accounted for, without recurring to a sexual character. Men, for whom we are told women were made, have too much occupied the thoughts of women; and this association ha [...] [...] entangled love with all their motives of action and, to harp a little on an old string, having been solely employed either to prepare themselves to excite love, or actually putting their lessons in [Page 211] practice, they cannot live without love. But, when a sense of duty, or fear of shame, obliges them to restrain this pampered desire of pleasing beyond certain lengths, too far for delicacy, it is true, though far from criminality, they obstinate­ly determine to love, I speak of the passion, their husbands to the end of the chapter—and then acting the part which they foolishly exacted from their lovers, they become object woers, and fond slaves.

Men of wit and fancy [...]e often rakes▪ and fan­cy is the food of love. Such men will inspire passion. Half the sex, in its present infantile state, would pine for a Lovelace; a man so wit­ty, so graceful, and so valiant: and can they de­serve blame for acting according to principles so constantly inculcated? They want a lover, and protector; and, behold him kneeling before them —bravery prostrate to beauty! The virtues of a husband are thus thrown by love into the back ground, and gay hopes, or lively emotions, ban­ish reflection till the day of reckoning comes; and come it surely will, to turn the sprightly lover into a surly suspicious tyrant, who con­temptuously insults the very weakness he foster­ed. Or, supposing the rake reformed, he can­not quickly get rid of old habits. When a man of abilities is first carried away by his passions, it is necessary that sentiment and taste varnish the enormities of vice, and give a zest to brutal in­dulgences; but when the gloss of novelty is worn off, and pleasure palls upon the sense, las­civiousness becomes barefaced, and enjoyment on­ly the desperate effort of weakness flying from re­flection [Page 212] as from a legion of devils. Oh! virtue thou art not an empty name! All that life can give—thou givest!

If much comfort cannot be expected from the friendship of a reformed rake of superiour abili­ties, what is the consequence when he lacketh sense, as well as principles? Verily misery, in its most hideous shape. When the habits of weak people are consolidated by time, a reforma­tion is barely possible; and actually makes the beings miserable who have not sufficient mind to be amused by innocent pleasure; like the trades­man who retires from the hurry of business, na­ture presents to them only a universal blank; and the restless thoughts prey on the damped spirits ^*. Their reformation, as well as his retirement, ac­tually makes them wretched because it deprives them of all employment, by quenching the hopes and fears that set in motion their sluggish minds.

If such is the force of habit; if such is the bondage of folly, how carefully ought we to guard the mind from storing up vicious associa­tions; and equally careful should we be to cul­tivate the understanding, to save the poor wight from the weak dependent state of even harmless ignorance. For it is the right use of reason alone which makes us independent of every thing—ex­cepting the unclouded Reason—'whose service is perfect freedom.'

CHAP. VII. MODESTY.—COMPREHENSIVELY CONSIDER­ED, AND NOT AS A SEXUAL VIRTUE.

MODESTY! Sacred offspring of sensibility and reason!—true delicacy of mind!—may I unblamed presume to investigate thy nature, and trace to its covert the mild charm, that mellow­ing each harsh feature of a character renders what would otherwise only inspire cold admira­tion —lovely!—Thou that smoothest the wrin­kles of wisdom, and softenest the tone of the sublimest virtues till they all melt into humani­ty; —thou that spreadest the ethereal cloud that surrounding love heightens every beauty, it half shades, breathing those coy sweets that steal into the heart, and charm the senses—modulate for me the language of persuasive reason, till I rouse my sex from the flowery bed, on which they su­pinely sleep life away!

In speaking of the association of our ideas, I have noticed two distinct modes, and in defining modesty, it appears to me equally proper to dis­criminate that purity of mind, which is the ef­fect of chastity, from a simplicity of character that leads us to form a just opinion of ourselves, equally distant from vanity or presumption, though by no means incompatible with a lofty consciousness of our own dignity. Modesty, in the latter signification of the term, is, that sober­ness of mind which teaches a man not to think more highly of himself than he ought to think, [Page 214] and should be distinguished from humility, be­cause humility is a kind of self-abasement.

A modest, man often conceives a great plain, and tenaciously adheres to it, conscious of his own strength, till success gives it a sanction that determines its character. Milton was not arro­gant when he suffered a suggestion of judgment to escape him that proved a prophesy; nor was General Washington when he accepted of the command of the American forces. The latter has always been characterized as a modest man; but had he been merely humble, he would pro­bably have shrunk back irresolute, afraid of trust­ing to himself the direction of an enterprise, on which so much depended.

A modest man is steady, an humble man timid, and a vain one presumptious:—this is the judg­ment, which the observation of many characters, has [...]ed me to form. Jesus Christ was modest, Moses was humble, and Peter vain.

Thus, discriminating modesty from humility in one case, I do not mean to confound it with bashfulness in the other. Bashfulness, in fact, is so distinct from modesty, that the most bashful lass, or raw country lout, often becomes the most impudent; for their bashfulness being merely the instinctive timidity of ignorance, custom soon changes it into assurance ^*.

[Page 215]The shameless behaviour of the prostitutes, who infest the streets of London, raising alter­nate emotions of pity and disgust, may serve to illustrate this remark. They trample on virgin bashfulness with a sort of bravado, and glorying in their shame, become more audaciously lewd than men, however depraved, to whom this sexu­al quality has not been gratuitously granted, ever appear to be. But these poor ignorant wretches never had any modesty to lose, when they con­signed themselves to infamy; for modesty is a virtue not a quality. No, they were only bash­ful, shame-faced innocents; and losing their in­nocence, their shame-facedness was rudely brush­ed off; a virtue would have left some vestiges in the mind, had it been sacrificed to passion, to make us respect the grand ruin.

Purity of mind, or that genuine delicacy, which is the only virtuous support of chastity, is near akin to that refinement of humanity, which never resides in any but cultivated minds. It is some­thing nobler than innocence; it is the delicacy of reflection, and not the coyness of ignorance.

The reserve of reason, which, like habitual cleanliness, is seldom seen in any great degree, unless the soul is active, may easily be distinguish­ed from rustic shyness or wanton skittishness; and, so far from being incompatible with know­ledge, it is its fairest fruit. What a gross idea of modesty had the writer of the following remark! ‘The lady who asked the question whether wo­men may be instructed in the modern system of botany, consistently with female delicacy?— was accused of ridiculous prudery: neverthe­less, [Page 216] if she had proposed the question to me, I should certainly have answered—They cannot.’ Thus is the fair book of knowledge to be shut with an everlasting seal! On reading similar pas­sages I have reverentially lifted up my eyes and heart to Him who liveth for ever and ever, and said, O my Father, hast Thou by the very con­stitution of her nature forbid Thy child to seek Thee in the fair forms of truth? And, can her soul be fullied by the knowledge that awfully calls her to Thee?

I have then philosophically pursued these re­flections till I inferred that those women who have most improved their reason must have the most modesty—though a dignified sedateness of deportment may have succeeded the playful, be­witching bashfulness of youth ^*.

And thus have I argued. To render chastity the virtue from which unsophisticated modesty will naturally flow, the attention should be called away from employments which only exercise the sensibility; and the heart made to beat time to humanity, rather than to throb with love. The woman who has dedicated a considerable portion of her time to pursuits purely intellectual, and whose affections have been exercised by humane plans of usefulness, must have more purity of mind, as a natural consequence, than the igno­rant beings whose time and thoughts have been occupied by gay pleasures or schemes to conquer [Page 217] hearts ^*. The regulation of the behaviour is not modesty, though those who study rules of deco­rum are, in general, termed modest women. Make the heart clean, let it expand and feel for all that is human, instead of being narrowed by selfish passions; and let the mind frequently con­template subjects that exercise the understanding, without heating the imagination, and artless mo­desty will give the finishing touches to the pic­ture.

She who can discern the dawn of immortality, in the streaks that shoot athwart the misty night of ignorance, promising a clearer day, will re­spect, as a sacred temple, the body that enshrines such an improvable soul. True love, likewise, spreads this kind of mysterious sanctity round the beloved object, making the lover most modest when in her presence ^†. So reserved is affection that, receiving or returning personal endearments, it wishes, not only to shun the human eye, as a kind of profanation; but to diffuse an encircling cloudy obscurity to shut out even the saucy spark­ling sunbeams. Yet, that affection does not de­serve the epithet of chaste, which does not re­ceive [Page 218] a sublime gloom of tender melancholy, that allows the mind for a moment to stand still and enjoy the present satisfaction, when a conscious­ness of the Divine presence is felt—for this must ever be the food of joy!

As I have always been fond of tracing to its source in nature any prevailing custom, I have frequently thought that it was a sentiment of af­fection for whatever had touched the person of an absent or lost friend, which gave birth to that respect for relicks, so much abused by selfish priests. Devotion, or love, may be allowed to hallow the garments as well as the person; for the lover must want fancy who has not a sort of sacred respect for the glove or slipper of his mis­tress. He could not confound them, with vul­gar things of the same kind. This fine senti­ment, perhaps, would not bear to be analyzed by the experimental philosopher—but of such stuff is human rapture made up!—A shadowy phan­tom glides before us, obscuring every other ob­ject; yet when the soft cloud is grasped, the form melts into common air, leaving a solitary void, or sweet perfume, stolen from the violet, that mem­ory long holds dear. But I have tripped una­wares on fairy ground, feeling the balmy gale of spring stealing on me, though November frowns.

As a sex, women are more chaste than men, and as modesty is the effect of chastity, they may deserve to have this virtue ascribed to them in rather an appropriated sense; yet, I must be al­lowed to add an hesitating if:—for I doubt whe­ther chastity will produce modesty, though it may propriety of conduct, when it is merely a [Page 219] respect for the opinion, of the world ^*, and when coquetry and the lovelorn tales of novelists em­ploy the thoughts. Nay, from experience, and reason, I should be led to expect to meet with more modesty amongst men than women, simply because men exercise their understandings more than women.

But, with respect to propriety of behaviour, excepting one class of females, women have evi­dently the advantage. What can be more disgust­ing than that impudent dross of gallantry, thought so manly, which makes many men stare insult­ingly at every female they meet? Is this respect for the sex? This loose behaviour shews such ha­bitual depravity, such weakness of mind, that it is vain to expect much public or private virtue, till both men and women grow more modest— till men, curbing a sensual fondness for the sex, or an affectation of manly assurance, more prop­erly speaking, impudence, treat each other with respect—unless appetite or passion gives the tone, peculiar to it, to their behaviour. I mean even personal respect—the modest respect of humani­ty, and fellow-feeling—not the the libidinous mockery of gallantry, nor the insolent conde­scension of protectorship.

To carry the observation still further, modesty must heartily disclaim, and refuse to dwell with that debauchery of mind, which leads a man coolly to bring forward, without a blush, inde­cent allusions, or obscene witticisms, in the pre­sence of a fellow creature; women are now out [Page 220] of the question, for then it is brutality. Respect for man, as man, is the foundation of every noble sentiment. How much more modest is the lib­ [...]rtine who obeys the call of appetite or fancy, than the lewd joker who sets the table in a roar!

This is one of the many instances in which the sexual distinction respecting modesty has pro­ved fatal to virtue and happiness. It is, how­ever, carried still further, and woman, weak wo­man! made by her education the slave of sensi­bility, is required, on the most trying occasions, to resist that sensibility. 'Can any thing,' says Knox, ‘be more absurd than keeping women in a state of ignorance, and yet so vehemently to insist on their resisting temptation?’ —Thus when virtue or honour make it proper to check a passion, the burden is thrown on the weaker shoulders, contrary to reason and true modesty, which, at least, should render the self-denial mu­tual, to say nothing of the generosity of bravery, supposed to be a manly virtue.

In the same strain runs Rousseau's and Dr. Gregory's advice respecting modesty, strangely miscalled! for they both desire a wife to leave it in doubt whether sensibility or weakness led her to her husband's arms.—The woman is immodest who can let the shadow of such a doubt remain on her husband's mind a moment

But to state the subject in a different light.— The want of modesty, which I principally de­plore as subversive of morality, arises from the state of warfare so strenuously supported by vo­luptuous men as the very essence of modesty, though, in fact, its bane; because it is a refine­ment [Page 221] on sensual desire, that men fall into who have not sufficient virtue to relish the innocent pleasures of love. A man of delicacy carries his notions of modesty still further, for neither weak­ness nor sensibility will gratify him—he looks for affection.

Again; men boast of their triumphs over wo­men, what do they boast of? Truly the creature of sensibility was surprised by her sensibility into folly—into vice ^*; and the dreadful reckoning falls heavily on her own weak head, when reason wakes. For where art thou to find comfort, forlorn and disconsolate one? He who ought to have directed thy reason, and supported thy weak­ness, has betrayed thee! In a dream of passion thou consentedst to wander through flowery lawns, and heedlesly stepping over the precipice to which thy guide, instead of guarding, lured thee, thou startest from thy dream only to face a sneering, frowning world, and to find thyself alone in a waste, for he that triumphed in thy weakness is now pursuing new conquests; but for thee—there is no redemption on this side the grave! And what resource hast thou in an ener­vated mind to raise a sinking heart?

But, if the sexes are really to live in a state of warfare, if nature has pointed it out, let men act nobly, or let pride whisper to them, that the victory is mean when they merely vanquish sen­sibility. The real conquest is that over affection not taken by surprise—when, like H [...]loisa, a wo­man gives up all the world, deliberately, for love. I do not now consider the wisdom or virtue of [Page 222] such a sacrifice, I only contend that it was a sacri­fice to affection, and not merely to sensibility, though she had her share.—And I must be al­lowed to call her a modest woman, before I dis­miss this part of the subject, by saying, that till men are more chaste women will be immodest. Where, indeed, could modest women find hus­bands from whom they would not continually turn with disgust? Modesty must be equally cul­tivated by both sexes, or it will ever remain a sickly hot-house plant, whilst the affectation of it, the fig leaf borrowed by wantonness, may give a zest to voluptuous enjoyments.

Men will probably still insist that woman ought to have more modesty than man; but it is not dispassionate reasoners who will most earn­estly oppose my opinion. No, they are the men of fancy, the favourites of the sex, who outward­ly respect and inwardly despise the weak creatures whom they thus sport with. They cannot sub­mit to resign the highest sensual gratification, nor even to relish the epicurism of virtue—self-denial.

To take another view of the subject, confining my remarks to women.

The ridiculous falsities ^* which are told to children, from mistaken notions of modesty, tend [Page 223] very early to inflame their imaginations and set their little minds to work, respecting subjects, which nature never intended they should think of till the body arrived at some degree of maturi­ty; then the passions naturally begin to take place of the senses, as instruments to unfold the understanding, and form the moral character.

In nurseries, and boarding-schools, I fear, girls are first spoiled; particularly in the latter. A number of girls deep in the same room, and wash together. And, though I should be sorry to contaminate an innocent creature's mind by in­stilling false delicacy, or those indecent prudish notions, which early cautions respecting the oth­er sex naturally engender, I should be very anx­ious to prevent their acquiring indelicate, or im­modest habits; and as many girls have learned very indelicate tricks, from ignorant servants, the mixing them thus indiscriminately together, is very improper.

To say the truth women are, in general, too familiar with each other, which leads to that gross degree of familiarity that so frequently ren­ders the marriage state unhappy. Why in the name of decency are sisters, female intimates, or ladies and their waiting-women, to be so grossly familiar as to forget the respect which one hu­man creature owes to another? That squeamish delicacy which shrinks from the most disgusting offices when affection ^* or humanity lead us to watch at a sick pillow, is despicable. But, why [Page 224] women in health should be more familiar with each other than men are, when they boast of their superiour delicacy, is a solecism in manners which I could never solve.

In order to preserve health and beauty, I should earnestly recommend frequent ablutions, to dig­nify my advice that it may not offend the fastidi­ous ear; and, by example, girls ought to be taught to wash and dress alone, without, any distinction of rank; and if custom should make them re­quire some little assistance, let them not require it till that part of the business is over which ought never to be done before a fellow-crea­ture; because it is an insult to the majesty of human nature. Not on the score of modesty, but decency; for the care which some modest women take, making at the same time a display of that care, not to let their legs be seen, is as childish as immodest ^*.

I could proceed still further, till I animadvert­ [...]on some still more indelicate customs, which men never fall into. Secrets are told—where silence ought to reign; and that regard to clean­liness, which some religious sects have, perhaps, carried too far, especially the Essenes, amongst the Jews, by making that an insult to God which is only an insult to humanity, is violated in a brutal manner. How can delicate women ob­trude on notice that part of the animal economy, which is so very disgusting? And is it not very rational to conclude, that the women who have [Page 225] not been taught to respect the human nature of their own sex, in these particulars, will not long respect the mere difference of sex in their hus­bands? After their maidenish bashfulness is once lost, I, in fact, have generally observed, that wo­men fall into old habits; and treat their husbands as they did their sisters or female acquaintance.

Besides, women from necessity, because their minds are not cultivated, have recourse very oft­en to what I familiarly term bodily wit; and their intimacies are of the same kind. In short, with respect to both mind and body, they are too intimate. That decent personal reserve which is the foundation of dignity of character, must be kept up between women, or their minds will never gain strength or modesty.

On this account also, I object to many females being shut up together in nurseries, schools, or convents. I cannot recollect without indigna­tion, the jokes and hoiden tricks, which knots of young women indulge themselves in, when in my youth accident threw me, an awkward rustic, in their way. They were almost on a par with the double meanings, which shake the convivial table when the glass has circulated freely. But, it is vain to attempt to keep the heart pure, un­less the head is furnished with ideas, and set to work to compare them, in order to acquire judg­ment, by generalizing simple ones; and modesty, by making the understanding damp the sensibility.

It may be thought that I lay too great a stress on personal reserve; but it is ever the handmaid of modesty. So that were I to name the graces that ought to adorn beauty, I should instantly [Page 226] exclaim, cleanliness, neatness, and personal reserve. It is obvious, I suppose, that the reserve I mean, has nothing sexual in it, and that I think it equally necessary in both sexes. So necessary, indeed, is that reserve and cleanliness which indolent wo­men too often neglect, that I will venture to af­firm that when two or three women live in the same house, the one will be most respected by the male part of the family, who reside with them, leaving love entirely out of the question, who pays this kind of habitual respect to her person.

When domestic friends meet in a morning, there will naturally prevail an affectionate serious­ness, especially, if each look forward to the dis­charge of daily duties; and, it may be reckoned fanciful, but this sentiment has frequently risen spontaneously in my mind, I have been pleased after breathing the sweet bracing morning air, to see the same kind of freshness in the countenances I particularly loved; I was glad to see them braced, as it were, for the day, and ready to run their course with the sun. The greetings of af­fection in the morning are by these means more respectful than the familiar tenderness which fre­quently prolongs the evening talk. Nay, I have often felt hurt, not to say disgusted, when a friend has appeared, whom I parted with full dressed the evening before, with her clothes huddled on, because she chose to indulge herself in bed till the last moment.

Domestic affection can only be kept alive by these neglected attentions; yet if men and wo­men took half as much pains to dress habitually neat, as they do to ornament, or rather to dis­figure, [Page 227] their persons, much would be done to­wards the attainment of purity of mind. But women only dress to gratify men of gallantry; for the lover is always best pleased with the sim­ple garb that sits close to the shape. There is an impertinence in ornaments that rebu [...]s affection; because love always clings round the id [...] home.

As a sex, women are habitually ind [...], and every thing tends to make them so. [...] do not forget the spurts of activity which sensibility pro­duces; but as these flights of feelings only increase the evil, they are not to be confounded with the slow, orderly walk of reason. So great in reality is their mental and bodily indolence, that till their body be strengthened and their understand­ing enlarged by active exertions, there is little reason to expect that modesty will take place of bashfulness. They may find it prudent to assume its semblance; but the fair veil will only to worn on gala days.

Perhaps there is not a virtue that mixes so kindly with every other as modesty.—It is the pale moon-beam that renders more interesting every virtue it softens, giving mild grandeur to the contracted horizon. Nothing can to more beautiful than the poetical fiction, which makes Diana with her silver crescent, the goddess of chastity. I have sometimes thought, that wan­dering with sedate step in some lonely recess, a modest dame of antiquity must have felt a glow of conscious dignity when, after contemplating the soft shadowy landscape, she has invited with placid fervour the mild reflection of her sisters beams to turn to her chaste bosom.

[Page 228]A Christian has still nobler motives to incite her to preserve her chastity and acquire modesty, for her body has been called the Temple of the living God; of that God who requires more than modesty of mien. His eye searcheth the heart; and let her remember, that if she hopeth to find favour in the sight of purity itself, her chastity must be founded on modesty and not on worldly prudence; or verily a good reputation will be her only reward; for that awful inter­course, that sacred communication, which virtue establishes between man and his Maker, must give rise to the wish of being pure as he is pure!

After the foregoing remarks, it is almost su­perfluous to add, that I consider all those femi­nine airs of maturity, which succeed bashfulness, to which truth is sacrificed, to secure the heart of a husband, or rather to force him to be still a lover when nature would, had she not been in­terrupted in her operations, have made love give place to friendship, as immodest. The tender­ness which a man will feel for the mother of his children is an excellent substitute for the ardour of unsatisfied passion; but to prolong that ardour it is indelicate, not to say immodest, for women to feign an unnatural coldness of constitution. Women as well as men ought to have the com­mon appetites and passions of their nature, they are only brutal when unchecked by reason: but the obligation to check them is the duty of man­kind, not a sexual duty. Nature, in these re­spects, may safely be left to herself; let women only acquire knowledge and humanity, and love [Page 229] will teach them modesty ^*. There is no need of falsehoods, disgusting as futire, for studied rules of behaviour only impose on shallow observers; a man of sense soon sees through, and despises the affectation.

The behaviour of young people, to each other, as men and women, is the last thing that should be thought of in education. In fact, behaviour in most circumstances is now so much thought of, that simplicity of character is rarely to be seen: yet, if men were only anxious to cultivate each virtue, and let it take root firmly in the mind, the grace resulting from it, its natural ex­teriour mark, would soon strip affectation of its flaunting plumes; because, fallacious as unsta­ble, is the conduct that is not founded upon truth!

Would ye, O my sisters, really possess modesty, ye must remember that the possession of virtue, of any denomination, is incompatible with igno­rance and vanity! ye must acquire that soberness of mind, which the exercise of duties, and the pursuit of knowledge, alone inspire, or ye will still remain in a doubtful dependent situation, and only be loved whilst ye are fair! The down-east eye, the rosy blush, the retiring grace, are all proper in their season; but modesty, being the child of reason, cannot long exist with the sensi­bility that is not tempered by reflection. Be­sides, when love, even innocent love, is the whole employ of your lives, your hearts will be too soft to afford modesty that tranquil retreat, where she delights to dwell, in close union with humanity.

CHAP. VIII. MORALITY UNDERMINED BY SEXUAL NO­TIONS OF THE IMPORTANCE OF A GOOD REPUTATION.

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

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

Women in the same way acquire, from a sup­posed necessity, an equally artificial mode of be­haviour. Yet truth is not with impunity to be sported with, for the practised dissembler, at last, become the dupe of his own arts, loses that saga­city, which has been justly termed common sense; namely, a quick perception of common truths: which are constantly received as such by [Page 231] the unsophisticated mind, though it might not have had sufficient energy to discover them itself, when obscured by local prejudices. The greater number of people take their opinions on trust to avoid the trouble of exercising their own minds, and these indolent beings naturally adhere to the letter, rather than the spirit of a law, divine or human. 'Women,' says some author, I cannot recollect who, 'mind not what only heaven sees.' Why, indeed should they? it is the eye of man that they have been taught to dread—and if they can lull their Argus to sleep, they seldom think of heaven or themselves, because their reputation is safe; and it is reputation, not chastity and all its fair train, that they are employed to keep free from spot, not as a virtue, but to preserve their station in the world.

To prove the truth of this remark, I need on­ly advert to the intrigues of married women, par­ticularly in high life, and in countries where wo­men are suitably married, according to their re­spective ranks, by their parents. If an innocent girl become a prey to love, she is degraded for­ever, though her mind was not polluted by the arts which married women, under the convenient cloke of marriage, practise; nor has she violated any duty—but the duty of respecting herself. The married woman, on the contrary, breaks a most sacred engagement, and becomes a cruel mother when she is a false and faithless wife. If her husband has still an affection for her, the arts which she must practise to deceive him, will ren­der her the most contemptible of human beings; and, at any rate, the contrivances necessary to pre­serve [Page 232] appearances, will keep her mind in that childish, or vicious, tumult, which destroys all its energy. Besides, in time, like those people who habitually take cordials to raise their spirits, she will want an intrigue to give life to her thoughts, having lost all relish for pleasures that are not highly seasoned by hope or fear.

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

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

To view this subject in another light.

I have known a number of women who, if they did not love their husbands, loved nobody else, give themselves entirely up to vanity and dissipation, neglecting every domestic duty; nay, even squandering away all the money which should have been saved for their helpless younger children, yet have plumed themselves on their un­sullied reputation, as if the whole compass of their duty as wives and mothers was only to pre­serve [Page 233] it. Whilst other indolent women neglect­ing every personal duty, have thought that they deserved their husband's affection, because they asked in this respect with propriety.

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

This regard for reputation, independent of its being one of the natural rewards or virtue, how­ever, took its rise from a cause that I have already deplored as the grand source of female depravity, [Page 234] the impossibility of regaining respectability by a return to virtue, though men preserve theirs dur­ing the indulgence of vice. It was natural for women then to endeavour to preserve what once lost—was lost for ever, till this care swallowing up every other care, reputation for chastity, be­came the one thing needful to the sex. But vain is the scrupulosity of ignorance, for neither reli­gion nor virtue, when they reside in the heart, require such a puerile attention to mere ceremo­nies, because the behaviour must, upon the whole, be proper, when the motive is pure.

To support my opinion I can produce very re­spectable authority; and the authority of a cool reasoner ought to have weight to enforce consi­deration, though not to establish a sentiment. Speaking of the general laws of morality, Dr. Smith observes,— ‘That by some very extraordi­nary and unlucky circumstance, a good man may come to be suspected of a crime of which he was altogether incapable, and upon that ac­count be most unjustly exposed for the remain­ing part of his life to the horror and aversion of mankind. By an accident of this kind he may be said to lose his all, notwithstanding his in­tegrity and justice, in the same manner as a cautious man, notwithstanding his utmost cir­cumspection, may be ruined by an earthquake or an inundation. Accidents of the first kind, however, are perhaps still more rare, and still more contrary to the common course of things than those of the second; and it still remains true, that the practice of truth, justice, and hu­manity, is a certain and almost infallible method [Page 235] of acquiring what those virtues chiefly aim at, the confidence and love of those we live with. A person may be easily misrepresented with re­gard to a particular action; but it is scarcely possible that he should be so with regard to the general tenor of his conduct. An innocent man may be believed to have done wrong: this, however, will rarely happen. On the contra­ry, the established opinion of the innocence of his manners will often lead us to absolve him where he has really been in the fault, notwith­standing very strong presumptions.’

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

Many people, undoubtedly, in several respects obtain a better reputation than, strictly speaking, they deserve; for unremitting industry will most­ly reach its goal in all races. They who only strive for this paltry prize, like the Pharisees, [Page 236] who prayed at the corners of streets, to be seen of men, verily obtain the reward they seek; for the heart of man cannot be read by man! Still the fair fame that is naturally reflected by good ac­tions, when the man is only employed to direct his steps aright, regardless of the lookers-on, is, in general, not only more true, but more sure.

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

I will then venture to affirm, that after a man is arrived at maturity, the general outline of his character in the world is just, allowing for the before-mentioned exceptions to the rule. I do not say that a prudent, worldly-wise man, with only negative virtues and qualities, may not sometimes obtain a more smooth reputation than a wiser or a better man. So far from it, that I am apt to conclude from experience, that where the virtue of two people is nearly equal, the most negative character will be liked best by the world at large, whilst the other may have more friends in pri­vate life. But the hills and dales, clouds and [Page 237] sunshine, conspicuous in the virtues of great men, set off each other; and though they afford envi­ous weakness a fairer mark to shoot at, the real character will still work its way to light, though be­spattered by weak affection, or ingenious malice ^*.

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

[Page 238]The humble mind that seeketh to find favour in His sight, and calmly examines its conduct when only His presence is felt, will seldom form a very erroneous opinion of its own virtues. During the still hour or self-collection the angry brow of offended justice will be fearfully depre­cated, or the tie which draws man to the Deity will be recognized in the pure sentiment of reve­rential adoration, that swells the heart without exciting any tumultuous emotions. In these so­lemn moments man discovers the germ of those vices, which like the Java tree shed a pestiferous vapour around—death is in the shade! and he perceives them without abhorrence, because he feels himself drawn by some cord of love to all his fellow-creatures, for whose follies he is anx­ious to find every extenuation in their nature— in himself. If I, he may thus argue, who exer­cise my own mind, and have been refined by tri­bulation, find the serpent's egg in some fold of my heart, and crush it with difficulty, shall not I pity those who have stamped with less vigour, or who have heedlessly nurtured the insidious reptile till it poisoned the vital stream it sucked? Can I, conscious of my secret sins, throw off my fellow-creatures, and calmly see them drop into the chasm of perdition, that yawns to receive them.—No! no! The agonized heart will cry with suffocating impatience—I too am a man! and have vices, hid, perhaps, from human eye, that bend me to the dust before God, and loudly tell me, when all is mute, that we are formed of the same earth, and breathe the same element. Humanity thus rises naturally out of humility, and twists the cords of [Page 239] love that in various convolutions entangle the heart.

This sympathy extends still further, till a man well pleased observes force in arguments that do not carry conviction to his own bosom, and he gladly places in the fairest light, to himself, the shews of reason that have led others astray, rejoiced to find some reason in all the errors of man; though before convinced that he who rules the day makes his sun to shine on all. Yet, shaking hands thus as it were with corruption, one foot on earth, the other with bold stride mounts to heaven, and claims kindred with supe­riour natures. Virtues, unobserved by man, drop their balmy fragrance at this cool hour, and the thirsty land, refreshed by the pure streams of comfort that suddenly gush out, is crowned with smiling verdure; this is the living green, on which that eye may look with complacency that is too pure to behold iniquity!

But my spirits flag; and I must silently in­dulge the reverie these reflections lead to, unable to describe the sentiments, that have calmed my soul, when watching the rising sun, a soft show­er drizzling through the leaves of neighbouring trees, seemed to fall on my languid, yet tranquil spirits, to cool the heart that had been heated by the passions which reason laboured to tame.

The leading principles which run through all my disquisitions, would render it unnecessary to enlarge on this subject, if a constant attention to keep the varnish of the character fresh, and in good condition, were not often inculcated as the sum total of female duty; if rules to regulate [Page 240] the behaviour, and to preserve the reputation, did not too frequently supersede moral obligations. But, with respect to reputation, the attention is confined to a single virtue—chastity. If the honour of a woman, as it is absurdly called, is safe, she may neglect every social duty; nay, ruin her family by gaming and extravagance; yet still present a shameless front—for truly she is an hon­ourable woman!

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

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

Men are certainly more under the influence of their appetites than women; and their appetites are more depraved by unbridled indulgence and the fastidious contrivances of satiety. Luxury has introduced a refinement in eating, that de­stroys the constitution; and a degree of gluttony which is so beastly, that a perception of seemli­ness [Page 241] of behaviour must be worn out before one being could eat immoderately in the presence of another, and afterwards complain of the oppres­sion that his intemperance naturally produced. Some women, particularly French women, have also lost a sense of decency in this respect; for they will talk very calmly of an indigestion. It were to be wished that idleness was not allowed to generate, on the rank soil of wealth, those swarms of summer insects that feed on putrefac­tion, we should not then be disgusted by the sight of such brutal excesses.

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

The depravity of the appetite which brings the sexes together, has had a still more fatal ef­fect. Nature must ever be the standard of taste, the guage of appetite—yet how grossly is nature insulted by the voluptuary. Leaving the refine­ments of love out of the question; nature, by making the gratification of an appetite, in this respect, as well as every other, a natural and imperious law to preserve the species, exalts the appetite, and mixes a little mind and affection [Page 242] with a sensual gust. The feelings of a parent mingling with an instinct merely animal, give it dignity; and the man and woman often meeting on account of the child, a mutual interest and af­fection is excited by the exercise of a common sympathy. Women then having necessarily some duty to fulfil, more noble than to adorn their per­sons, would not contentedly be the slaves of ca­sual appetite; which is now the situation of a very considerable number who are, literally speaking, standing dishes to which every glutton may have access.

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

This intemperance, so prevalent, depraves the appetite to such a degree, that a wanton stimu­lus is necessary to rouse it; but the parental de­sign of nature is forgotten, and the mere person, [Page 243] and that for a moment, alone engrosses the thoughts. So voluptuous, indeed, often grows the lustful prowler, that he refines on female softness. Something more soft than woman is then sought for; till, in Italy and Portugal, men attend the levees of equivocal beings, to sigh for more than female langour.

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

[Page 244]Contrasting the humanity of the present age with the barbarism of antiquity, great stress has been laid on the savage custom of exposing the children whom their parents could not main­tain; whilst the man of sensibility who thus, perhaps, complains, by his promiscuous amours produces a most destructive barrenness and con­tagious flagitiousness of manners. Surely nature never intended that women, by satisfying an ap­petite, should frustrate the very purpose for which it was implanted!

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

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

[Page 245]The two sexes mutually corrupt and improve each other. This I believe to be an indisputa­ble truth, extending it to every virtue. Chasti­ty, modesty, public spirit, and all the noble train of virtues, on which social virtue and happiness is built, should be understood and cultivated by all mankind, or they will be cultivated to little effect. And, instead of furnishing the vicious or idle with a pretext for violating some sacred du­ty, by terming it a sexual one, it would be wiser to shew that nature has not made any difference, for that the unchaste man doubly defeats the pur­pose of nature, by rendering women barren, and destroying his own constitution, though he avoids the shame that pursues the crime in the other sex. These are the physical consequences, the moral are still more alarming; for virtue is on­ly a nominal distinction when the duties of citi­zens, husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, and di­rectors of families, become merely the selfish ties of convenience.

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

CHAP. IX. OF THE PERNICIOUS EFFECTS WHICH ARISE FROM THE UNNATURAL DISTINCTIONS ESTABLISHED IN SOCIETY.

FROM the respect paid to property flow, as from a poisoned fountain, most of the evils and vices which render this world such a dreary scene to the contemplative mind. For it is in the most polished society that noisome reptiles and venom­ous serpents lurk under the rank herbage; and there is voluptuousness pampered by the still sul­try air, which relaxes every good disposition be­fore it ripens into virtue.

One class presses on another; for all are aiming to procure respect on account of their property: and property, once gained, will procure the re­spect due only to talents and virtue. Men neg­lect the duties incumbent on man, yet are treat­ed like demi-gods; religion is also separated from morality by a ceremonial veil, yet men wonder that the world is almost, literally speaking, a den of sharpers or oppressors.

There is a homely proverb, which speaks a shrewd truth, that whoever the devil finds idle he will employ. And what but habitual idleness can hereditary wealth and titles produce? For man is so constituted that he can only attain a proper use of his faculties by exercising them, and will not exercise them unless necessity, of some kind, first set the wheels in motion. Vir­tue [Page 247] likewise can only be acquired by the discharge of relative duties; but the importance of these sa­cred duties will scarcely be felt by the being who is cajoled out of his humanity by the flattery of sycophants. There must be more equality estab­lished in society, or morality will never gain ground, and this virtuous equality will not rest firmly even when founded on a rock, if one half of mankind are chained to is bottom by fate, for they will be continually undermining it through ignorance or pride.

It is vain to expect virtue from women till they are, in some degree, independent of men; nay, it is vain to expect that strength of natural affection, which would make them good wives and mothers. Whilst they are absolutely de­pendent on their husbands they will be cunning, mean, and selfish, and the men who can be grati­fied by the fawning fondness of spaniel-like af­fection, have not much delicacy, for love is not to be bought, in any sense of the words, its silken wings are instantly shrivelled up when any thing beside a return in kind is sought. Yet whilst wealth enervates men; and women live, as it were, by their personal charms, how can we ex­pect them to discharge those ennobling duties which equally require exertion and self-denial. Hereditary property sophisticates the mind, and the unfortunate victims to it, if I may so ex­press myself, swathed from their birth, seldom exert the locomotive faculty of body or mind; and, thus viewing every thing through one me­dium, and that a false one, they are unable to discern in what true merit and happiness consist. [Page 248] False, indeed, must be the light when the dra­pery of situation hides the man, and makes him stalk in masquerade, dragging from one scene of dissipation to another the nerveless limbs that hang with stupid listnessness, and rolling round the vacant eye which plainly tells us that there is no mind at home.

I mean, therefore, to infer that the society is not properly organized which does not compel men and women to discharge their respective du­ties, by making it the only way to acquire that countenance from their fellow-creatures, which every human being wishes some way to attain. The respect, consequently, which is paid to wealth and mere personal charms, is a true north-east blast, that blights the tender blossoms of af­fection and virtue. Nature has wisely attached affections to duties, to sweeten toil, and to give that vigour to the exertions of reason which only the heart can give. But, the affection which is put on merely because it is the appropriated insig­nia of a certain character, when its duties are not fulfilled, is one of the empty compliments which vice and folly are obliged to pay to virtue and the real nature of things.

To illustrate my opinion, I need only observe, that when a woman is admired for her beauty, and suffers herself to be so far intoxicated by the admiration she receives, as to neglect to discharge the indispensable duty of a mother, she sins against herself by neglecting to cultivate an affection that would equally tend to make her useful and hap­py. True happiness, I mean all the contentment, and virtuous satisfaction, that can be snatched in [Page 249] this imperfect state, must arise from well regu­lated affections; and an affection includes a duty. Men are not aware of the misery they cause, and the vicious weakness they cherish, by only incit­ing women to render themselves pleasing; they do not consider that they thus make natural and artificial duties clash, by sacrificing the comfort and respectability of a woman's life to voluptuous notions of beauty, when in nature they all har­monize.

Cold would be the heart of a husband, were he not rendered unnatural by early debauchery, who did not feel more delight at seeing his child suck­led by its mother, than the most artful wanton tricks could ever raise; yet this natural way of cementing the matrimonial tie, and twisting esteem with fonder recollections, wealth leads women to spurn. To preserve their beauty, and wear the flowery crown of the day, that gives them a kind of right to reign for a short time over the sex, they neglect to stamp impressions on their husbands' hearts, that would be remem­bered with more tenderness when the snow on the head began to chill the bosom, than even their virgin charms. The maternal solicitude of a reasonable affectionate woman is very interesting, and the chastened dignity with which a mother returns the caresses that she and her child receive from a father who has been fulfilling the serious duties of his station, is not only a respectable, but a beautiful sight. So singular, indeed, are my feelings, and I have endeavoured not to catch factitious ones, that after having been fatigued with the sight of insipid grandeur and the slavish [Page 250] ceremonies that with cumberous pomp supplied the place of domestic affections, I have turned to some other scene to relieve my eye by resting it on the refreshing green every where scattered by nature. I have then vi [...]d with pleasure a wo­man nursing her children, and discharging the duties of her station with, perhaps, merely a ser­vant maid to take off her hands the servile part of the household business. I have seen her prepare herself and children, with only the luxury of cleanliness, to receive her husband, who return­ing weary home in the evening found smiling babes and a clean hearth. My heart has loitered in the midst of the group, and has even throbbed with sympathetic emotion, when the scraping of the well known foot has raised a pleasing tu­mult.

Whilst my benevolence has been gratified by contemplating this artless picture, I have thought that a couple of this description, equally neces­sary and independent of each other, because each fulfilled the respective duties of their station, pos­sessed all that life could give.—Raised sufficient­ly above abject poverty not to be obliged to weigh the consequence of every farthing they spend, and having sufficient to prevent their attending to a frigid system of economy, which narrows both heart and mind. I declare, so vulgar are my conceptions, that I know not what is wanted to render this the happiest as well as the most re­spectable situation in the world, but a taste for literature, to throw a little variety and interest into social converse, and some superfluous money to give to the needy and to buy books. For it is [Page 251] not pleasant when the heart is opened by com­passion and the head active in arranging plans of usefulness, to have a prim urchin continually switching back the elbow to prevent the hand from drawing out an almost empty purse, whis­pering at the same time some prudential maxim about the priority of justice.

Destructive, however, as riches and inherited honours are to the human character, women are more debased and cramped, if possible, by them, than men, because men may still, in some degree, unfold their faculties by becoming soldiers and statesmen.

As soldiers, I grant, they can now only gather, for the most part, vain glorious laurels, whilst they adjust to a hair the European balance, tak­ing especial care that no bleak northern nook or sound incline the beam. But the days of true heroism are over, when a citizen fought for his country like a Fabricius or a Washington, and then returned to his farm to let his virtuous fer­vour run in a more placid, but not a less salutary, stream. No, our British heroes are oftener sent from the gaming table than from the plow; and their passions have been rather inflamed by hang­ing with dumb suspense on the turn of a die, than sublimated by panting after the adventurous march of virtue in the historic page.

The statesman, it is true, might with more propriety quit the Faro Bank, or card-table, to guide the helm, for he has still but to shuffle and trick. The whole system of British politics, if system it may courteously be called, consisting in multiplying dependents and contriving taxes [Page 252] which grind the poor to pamper the rich; thus a war, or any wild goose chace is, as the vulgar use the phrase, a lucky turn-up of patronage for the minister, whose chief merit is the art of keep­ing himself in place.

It is not necessary then that he should have bowels for the poor, so he can secure for his fam­ily the odd trick. Or should some shew of re­spect, for what is termed with ignorant ostenta­tion an Englishman's birth-right, be expedient to bubble the gruff mastiff that he has to lead by the nose, he can make an empty shew, very safe­ly, by giving his single voice, and suffering his light squadron to file off to the other side. And when a question of humanity is agitated he may dip a sop in the milk of human kindness, to si­lence Cerberus, and talk of the interest which his heart takes in an attempt to make the earth no longer cry for vengeance as it sucks in its children's blood, though his cold hand may at the very moment rivet their chains, by sanctioning the abominable traffick. A minister is no long­er a minister than while he can carry a point, which he is determined to carry.—Yet it is not necessary that a minister should feel like a man, when a bo [...]d push might shake his seat.

But, to have done with these episodical observ­ations, let me return to the more specious slavery which chains the very soul of woman, keeping her for ever under the bondage of ignorance.

The preposterous distinctions of rank, which render civilization a curse, by dividing the world between voluptuous tyrants, and cunning envi­ous dependents, corrupt, almost equally, every [Page 253] class of people, because respectability is not at­tached to the discharge of the relative duties of life, but to the station, and when the duties are not fulfilled the affections cannot gain sufficient strength to fortify the virtue of which they are the natural reward. Still there are some loop-holes out of which a man may creep, and dare to think and act for himself; but for a woman it is an herculean task, because she has difficulties pe­culiar to her sex to overcome, which require al­most super-human powers.

A truly benevolent legislator always endeavours to make it the interest of each individual to be virtuous; and thus private virtue becoming the cement of public happiness, an orderly whole is consolidated by the tendency of all the parts to­wards a common centre. But, the private or public virtue of woman is very problematical; for Rousseau, and a numerous list of male writers, insist that she should all her life be subjected to a severe restraint, that of propriety. Why sub­ject her to propriety—blind propriety, if she be capable of acting from a nobler spring, if she be an heir of immortality? Is sugar always to be produced by vital blood? Is one half of the hu­man species, like the poor African slaves, to be subject to prejudices that brutalize them, when principles would be a surer guard, only to sweet­en the cup of man? Is not this indirectly to de­ny woman reason? for a gift is a mockery, if it be unfit for use.

Women are, in common with men, rendered weak and luxurious by the relaxing pleasures which wealth procures; but added to this they [Page 254] are made slaves to their persons, and must render them alluring that man may lend them his rea­son to guide their tottering steps aright. Or should they be ambitious, they must govern their tyrants by sinister tricks, for without rights there cannot be any incumbent duties. The laws re­specting woman, which I mean to discuss in a future part, make an absurd unit of a man and his wife; and then, by the easy transition of only considering him as responsible, she is reduced to a mere cypher.

The being who discharges the duties of its sta­tion is independent; and, speaking of women at large, their first duty is to themselves as rational creatures, and the next, in point of importance, as citizens, is that, which includes so many, of a mother. The rank in life which dispenses with their fulfilling this duty, necessarily degrades them by making them mere dolls. Or, should they turn to something more important than merely fitting drapery upon a smooth block, their minds are only occupied by some soft pla­tonic attachment; or, the actual management of an intrigue may keep their thoughts in motion; for when they neglect domestic duties, they have it not in their power to take the field and march and counter-march like soldiers, or wrangle in the senate to keep their faculties from rusting.

I know that as a proof of the inferiority of the sex, Rousseau has exultingly exclaimed, How can they leave the nursery for the camp!—And the camp has by some moralists been termed the school of the most heroic virtues; though, I think, it would puzzle a keen casuist to prove [Page 255] the reasonableness of the greater number of wars that have dubbed heroes. I do not mean to con­sider this question critically; because, having frequently viewed these freaks of ambition as the first natural mode of civilization, when the ground must be torn up, and the woods cleared by fire and sword, I do not choose to call them pests; but surely the present system of war has little connection with virtue of any denomination, being rather the school of finesse and effeminacy, than of fortitude.

Yet, if defensive war, the only justifiable war, in the present advanced state of society, where virtue can shew its face and ripen amidst the ri­gours which purify the air on the mountain's top, were alone to be adopted as just and glori­ous, the true heroism of antiquity might again animate female bosoms.—But fair and softly, gentle reader, male or female, do not alarm thy­self, for though I have contrasted the character of a modern soldier with that of a civilized wo­man, I am not going to advise them to turn their distaff into a musket, though I sincerely wish to see the bayonet converted into a pruning-hook. I only recreated an imagination fatigued by con­templating the vices and follies which all pro­ceed from a feculent stream of wealth that has muddied the pure rills of natural affection, by supposing that society will some time or other be so constituted, that man must necessarily fulfil the duties of a citizen, or be despised, and that while he was employed in any of the departments of civil life, his wife, also an active citizen, should be equally intent to manage her family, educate her children, and assist her neighbours.

[Page 256]But, to render her really virtuous and useful, she must not, if she discharge her civil duties, want, individually, the protection of civil laws; she must not be dependent on her husband's boun­ty for her subsistence during his life, or support after his death—for how can a being be generous who has nothing of its own? or, virtuous, who is not free? The wife, in the present state of things, who is faithful to her husband, and neith­er suckles nor educates her children, scarcely de­serves the name of a wife, and has no right to that of a citizen. But take away natural rights, and there is of course an end of duties.

Women thus infallibly become only the want­on solace of men, when they are so weak in mind and body, that they cannot exert themselves, un­less to pursue some frothy pleasure, or to invent some frivolous fashion. What can be a more melancholy fight to a thinking mind, than to look into the numerous carriages that drive helt­er-skelter about this metropolis in a morning full of pale-faced creatures who are flying from themselves. I have often wished, with Dr. John­son, to place some of them in a little shop with half a dozen children looking up to their languid countenances for support. I am much mistaken, if some latent vigour would not soon give health and spirit to their eyes, and some lines drawn by the exercise of reason on the blank cheeks, which before were only undulated by dimples, might restore lost dignity to the character, or rather en­able it to attain the true dignity of its nature. Virtue is not to be acquired even by speculation, much less by the negative supineness that wealth naturally generates.

[Page 257]Besides, when poverty is more disgraceful than even vice, is not morality cut to the quick? Still to avoid misconstruction, though I consider that women in the common walks of life are called to fulfil the duties of wives and mothers, by religion and reason, I cannot help lamenting that women of a superiour cast have not a road open by which they can pursue more extensive plans of usefulness and independence. I may ex­cite laughter, by dropping an hint, which I mean to pursue, some future time, for I really think that women ought to have representatives, instead of being arbitrarily governed without having any direct share allowed them in the deliberations of goverment.

But, as the whole system of representation is now, in this country, only a convenient handle for despotism, they need not complain, for they are as well represented as a numerous class of hard working mechanics, who pay for the sup­port of royalty when they can scarcely stop their children's mouths with bread. How are they represented whose very sweat supports the splen­did stud of an heir apparent, or varnishes the cha­riot of some female favourite who looks down on shame? Taxes on the very necessaries of life, en­able an endless tribe of idle princes and princesses to pass with stupid pomp before a gaping crowd, who almost worship the very parade which costs them so dear. This is mere gothic grandeur, something like the barbarous useless parade of having sentinels on horseback at Whitehall, which I could never view without a mixture of con­tempt and indignation.

[Page 258]How strangely must the mind be sophisticated when this sort of state impresses it! But, till these monuments of folly are levelled by virtue, similar follies will leaven the whole mass. For the same character, in some degree, will prevail in the aggregate of society: and the refinements of luxury, or the vicious repinings of envious poverty, will equally banish virtue from society, considered as the characteristic of that society, or only allow it to appear as one of the stripes of the harlequin coat, worn by the civilized man.

In the superiour ranks of life, every duty is done by deputies, as if duties could ever be wav­ed, and the vain pleasures which consequent idle­ness forces the rich to pursue, appear so enticing to the next rank, that the numerous scramblers for wealth sacrifice every thing to tread on their heels. The most sacred trusts are then consid­ered as sinecures, because they were procured by interest, and only sought to enable a man to keep good company. Women, in particular, all want to be ladies. Which is simply to have nothing to do, but listlessly to go they scarcely care where, for they cannot tell what.

But what have women to do in society? I may be asked, but to loiter with easy grace; surely you would not condemn them all to suckle fools and chronicle small beer! No. Women might certainly study the art of healing, and be physicians as well as nurses. And midwife­ry, decency seems to allot to them, though I am afraid the word midwife, in our dictionaries, will soon give place to accoucheur, and one proof of the former delicacy of the sex be effaced from the language.

[Page 259]They might, also, study politics, and settle their benevolence on the broadest basis; for the reading of history will scarcely be more useful than the perusal of romances, if read as mere bi­ography; if the character of the times, the po­litical improvements, arts, &c. be not observed. In short, if it be not considered as the history of man; and not of particular men, who filled a niche in the temple of fame, and dropped into the black rolling stream of time, that silently sweeps all before it, into the shapeless void called—eter­nity.—For shape, can it be called, ‘that shape hath none?’

Business of various kinds, they might likewise pursue, if they were educated in a more orderly manner, which might save many from common and legal prostitution. Women would not then marry for a support, as men accept of places un­der government, and neglect the implied duties; nor would an attempt to earn their own subsist­ence, a most laudable one! sink them almost to the level of those poor abandoned creatures who live by prostitution. For are not milliners and mantua-makers reckoned the next class? The few employments open to women, so far from being liberal, are menial; and when a superiour education enables them to take charge of the edu­cation of children as governesses, they are not treated like the tutors of sons, though even cle­rical tutors are not always treated in a manner calculated to render them respectable in the eyes of their pupils, to say nothing of the private com­fort of the individual. But as women educated like gentlewomen, are never designed for the hu­miliating [Page 260] situation which necessity sometimes forc­es them to fill; these situations are considered in the light of a degradation; and they know little of the human heart, who need to be told, that nothing so painfully sharpens the sensibility as such a fall in life.

Some of these women might be restrained from marrying by a proper spirit or delicacy, and oth­ers may not have had it in their power to escape in this pitiful way from servitude; is not that government then very defective, and very un­mindful of the happiness of one half of its mem­bers, that does not provide for honest, independ­ent women, by encouraging them to fill re­spectable stations? But in order to render their private virtue a public benefit, they must have a civil existence in the state, married or single; else we shall continually see some worthy wo­man, whose sensibility has been rendered pain­fully acute by undeserved contempt, droop like 'the lily broken down by a plow-share.'

It is a melancholy truth; yet such is the blessed effect of civilization! the most respectable women are the most oppressed; and, unless they have understandings far superiour to the common run of understandings, taking in both sexes, they must, from being treated like contemptible be­ings, become contemptible. How many wo­men thus waste life away the prey of discontent, who might have practised as physicians, regula­ted a farm, managed a shop, and stood erect, sup­ported by their own industry, instead of hanging their heads surcharged with the dew of sensibili­ty, that consumes the beauty to which it at first [Page 261] gave lustre; nay, I doubt whether pity and love are so near akin as poets seign, for I have seldom seen much compassion excited by the helpless­ness of females, unless they were fair; then, per­haps, pity was the soft handmaid of love, or the harbinger of lust.

How much more respectable is the woman who earns her own bread by fulfilling any duty, than the most accomplished beauty!—beauty did I say?—so sensible am I of the beauty of moral loveliness, or the harmonious propriety that at­tunes the passions of a well-regulated mind, that I blush at making the comparison; yet I sigh to think how few women aim at attaining this re­spectability by withdrawing from the giddy whirl of pleasure, or the indolent calm that stu­pifies the good sort of women it sucks in.

Proud of their weakness, however, they must always be protected, guarded from care, and all the rough toils that dignify the mind.—If this be the fiat of fate, if they will make themselves insigni­ficant and contemptible, sweetly to waste ‘life away’ let them not expect to be valued when their beauty fades, for it is the fate of the fairest flowers to be admired and pulled to pieces by the careless hand that plucked them. In how ma­ny ways do I wish, from the purest benevolence, to impress this truth on my sex; yet I fear that they will not listen to a truth that dear bought experience has brought home to many an agitated bosom, nor willingly resign the privileges of rank and sex for the privileges of humanity, to which those have no claim who do not discharge its duties.

[Page 262]Those writers are particularly useful, in my opinion, who make man feel for man, independ­ent of the station he fills, or the drapery of fac­titious sentiments. I then would fain convince reasonable men of the importance of some of my remarks, and prevail on them to weigh dispassion­ately the whole tenor of my observations.—I ap­peal to their understandings; and, as a fellow-creature claim, in the name of my sex, some in­terest in their hearts. I entreat them to assist to emancipate their companion, to make her a help meet for them!

Would men but generously snap our chains, and be content with rational fellowship instead of slavish obedience, they would find us more ob­servant daughters, more affectionate sisters, more faithful wives, more reasonable mothers—in a word, better citizens. We should then love them with true affection, because we should learn to respect ourselves; and the peace of mind of a worthy man would not be interrupted by the idle vanity of his wife, nor his babes sent to nestle in a strange bosom, having never found a home in their mother's.

CHAP. X. PARENTAL AFFECTION.

PARENTAL affection is, perhaps, the blind­est modification of perverse self-love; for we have not, like the French ^*, two terms to distin­guish the pursuit of a natural and reasonable de­sire, from the ignorant calculations of weakness. Parents often love their children in the most brutal manner, and sacrifice every relative duty to promote their advancement in the world.—To promote, such is the perversity of unprincipled prejudices, the future welfare of the very beings whose present existence they embitter by the most despotic stretch of power. Power, in fact, is ever true to its vital principle, for in every shape it would reign without controul or inquiry. Its throne is built across a dark abyss, which no eye must dare to explore, lest the baseless fabric should totter under investigation. Obedience, unconditional obedience, is the catch-word of ty­rants of every description, and to render ‘assur­ance doubly sure,’ one kind of despotism sup­ports another. Tyrants would have cause to tremble if reason were to become the rule of duty in any of the relations of life, for the light might spread till perfect day appeared. And when it did appear, how would r [...]n smile at the sight of the bugbears at which they started during the night of ignorance, or the twilight of timid in­quiry.

[Page 264]Parental affection, indeed, in many minds, is but a pretext to tyrannize where it can be done with impunity, for only good and wise men are content with the respect that will bear discussion. Convinced that they have a right to what they insist on, they do not fear reason, or dread the sifting of subjects that recur to natural justice: because they firmly believe that the more en­lightened the human mind becomes the deeper root will just and simple principles take. They do not rest in expedients, or grant that what is metaphysically true can be practically false; but disdaining the shifts of the moment they calmly wait till time, sanctioning innovation, silences the hiss of selfishness or envy.

If the power of reflecting on the past, and darting the keen eye of contemplation into futu­rity, be the grand privilege of man, it must be granted that some people enjoy this prerogative in a very limited degree. Every thing now ap­pears to them wrong; and not able to distinguish the possible from the monstrous, they fear where no fear should find a place, running from the light of reason, as if it were a firebrand; yet the limits of the possible have never been defined to stop the sturdy innovator's hand.

Woman, however, a slave in every situation to prejudice, seldom exerts enlightened maternal af­fection; for she either neglects her children, or spoils them by improper indulgence. Besides, the affection of some women for their children is, as I have before termed it, frequently very brutish: for it eradicates every spark of humani­ty. Justice, truth, every thing is sacrificed by [Page 265] these Rebekah's, and for the sake of their own children they violate the most sacred duties, for­getting the common relationship that binds the whole family on earth together. Yet, reason seems to say, that they who suffer one duty, or affection, to swallow up the rest, have not suffi­cient heart or mind to fulfil that one conscien­tiously. It then loses the venerable aspect of a duty, and assumes the fantastic form of a whim.

As the care of children in their infancy is one of the grand duties annexed to the female charac­ter by nature, this duty would afford many forci­ble arguments for strengthening the female un­derstanding, if it were properly considered.

The formation of the mind must be begun very early, and the temper, in particular, requires the most judicious attention—an attention which women cannot pay who only love their children because they are their children, and seek no fur­ther for the foundation of their duty, than in the feelings of the moment. It is this want of rea­son in their affections which makes women so oft­en run into extremes, and either be the most fond or most careless and unnatural mothers.

To be a good mother—a woman must have sense, and that independence of mind which few women possess who are taught to depend entirely on their husbands. Meek wives are, in general, foolish mothers; wanting their children to love them best, and take their part, in secret, against the father, who is held up as a scarecrow. If they are to be punished, though they have offend­ed the mother, the father must inflict the punish­ment; he must be the judge in all disputes: but [Page 266] I shall more fully discuss this subject when I treat of private education, I now only mean to in­sist, that unless the understanding of woman be enlarged, and her character rendered more firm, by being allowed to govern her own conduct, she will never have sufficient sense or command of temper to manage her children properly. Her parental affection, indeed, scarcely deserves the name, when it does not lead her to suckle her children, because the discharge of this duty is equally calculated to inspire maternal and filial affection: and it is the indispensable duty of men and women to fulfil the duties which give birth to affections that are the surest preservatives against vice. Natural affection, as it is termed, I believe to be a very faint tie, affections must grow out of the habitual exercise of a mutual sympathy; and what sympathy does a mother exercise who sends her babe to a nurse, and only takes it from a nurse to send it to a school?

In the exercise of their maternal feelings pro­vidence has furnished women with a natural sub­stitute for love, when the lover becomes only a friend and mutual confidence takes place of over­strained admiration—a child then gently twists the relaxing cord, and a mutual care produces a new mutual sympathy.—But a child, though a pledge of affection, will not enliven it, if both father and mother are content to transfer the charge to hire­lings; for they who do their duty by proxy should not murmur if they miss the reward of duty—parental affection produces filial duty.

CHAP. XI. DUTY TO PARENTS.

THERE seems to be an indolent propensi­ty in man to make prescription always take place of reason, and to place every duty on an arbitrary foundation. The rights of kings are deduced in a direct line from the King of kings; and that of parents from our first parent.

Why do we thus go back for principles that should always rest on the same base, and have the same weight to-day that they had a thousand years ago—and not a jot more? If parents dis­charge their duty they have a strong hold and sacred claim on the gratitude of their children; but few parents are willing to receive the re­spectful affection of their offspring on such terms. They demand blind obedience, because they do not merit a reasonable service: and to render these demands of weakness and ignorance more binding, a mysterious sanctity is spread round the most arbitrary principle; for what other name can be given to the blind duty of obeying vicious or weak beings merely because they obeyed a powerful instinct?

The simple definition of the reciprocal duty, which naturally subsists between parent and child, may be given in a few words: The parent who pays proper attention to helpless infancy has a right to require the same attention when the fee­bleness of age comes upon him. But to subju­gate [Page 268] a rational being to the mere will of another, after he is of age to answer to society for his own conduct, is a most cruel and undue stretch of pow­er; and, perhaps, as injurious to morality as those religious systems which do not allow right and wrong to have any existence, but in the Di­vine will.

I never knew a parent who had paid more than common attention to his children, disregarded ^*; on the contrary, the early habit of relying almost implicitly on the opinion of a respected parent is not easily shook, even when matured reason convinces the child that his father is not the wisest man in the world. This weakness, for a weakness it is, though the epithet amiable may be tacked to it, a reasonable man must steel himself against; for the absurd duty, too often inculcated, of obeying a parent only on account of his being a parent, shackles the mind, and prepares it for a slavish submission to any power but reason.

I distinguish between the natural and accident­al duty due to parents.

The parent who seduously endeavours to form the heart and enlarge the understanding of his child, has given that dignity to the discharge of a duty, common to the whole animal world, that only reason can give. This is the parental af­fection of humanity, and leaves instinctive na­tural affection far behind. Such a parent acquires all the rights of the most sacred friendship, and his advice, even when his child is advanced in life, demands serious consideration.

[Page 269]With respect to marriage, though after one and twenty a parent seems to have no right to with­hold his consent on any account; yet twenty years of solicitude call for a turn, and the son ought, at least, to promise not to marry for two or three years, should the object of his choice not entirely meet with the approbation of his first friend.

But, respect for parents is, generally speaking, a much more debasing principle; it is only a self­ish respect for property. The father who is blindly obeyed, is obeyed from sheer weakness, or from motives that degrade the human character.

A great proportion of the misery that wanders, in hideous forms around the world, is allowed to rise from the negligence of parents; and still these are the people who are most tenacious of what they term a natural right, though it be sub­versive of the birth-right of man, the right of acting according to the direction of his own rea­son.

I have already very frequently had occasion to observe, that vicious or indolent people are al­ways eager to profit by enforcing arbitrary privi­leges; and, generally, in the same proportion as they neglect the discharge of the duties which alone render the privileges reasonable. This is at the bottom a dictate of common sense, or the in­stinct of self-defence, peculiar to ignorant weak­ness; resembling that instinct, which makes a fish muddy the water it swims in to allude its en­emy, instead of boldly facing it in the clear stream.

[Page 270]From the clear stream of argument, indeed, the supporters of prescription, of every denomi­nation, fly; and, taking refuge in the darkness, which, in the language of sublime poetry, has been supposed to surround the throne of Omnip­otence, they dare to demand that implicit respect which is only due to His unsearchable ways. But, let me not be thought presumptuous, the darkness which hides our God from us, only re­spects speculative truths—it never obscures moral ones, they shine clearly, for God is light, and never, by the constitution of our nature, requires the discharge of a duty, the reasonableness of which does not beam on us when we open our eyes.

The indolent parent of high rank may, it is true, extort a shew of respect from his child, and females on the continent are particularly subject to the views of their families, who never think of consulting their inclination, or providing for the comfort of the poor victims of their pride. The consequence is notorious; these dutiful daughters become adulteresses, and neglect the education of their children, from whom they, in their turn, exact the same kind of obedience.

Females, it is true, in all countries, are too much under the dominion of their parents; and few parents think of addressing their children in the following manner, though it is in this rea­sonable way that Heaven seems to command the whole human race. It is your interest to obey me till you can judge for yourself; and the Al­mighty Father of all has implanted an affection in me to serve as a guard to you whilst your rea­son [Page 271] is unfolding; but when your mind arrives at maturity, you must only obey me, or rather re­spect my opinions, so far as they coincide with the light that is breaking in on your own mind.

A slavish bondage to parents cramps every fac­ulty of the mind; and Mr. Locke very judicious­ly observes, that ‘if the mind be curbed and humbled too much in children; if their spirits be abased and broken much by too strict an hand over them; they lose all their vigour and in­dustry.’ This strict hand may in some degree account for the weakness of women; for girls, from various causes, are more kept down by their parents, in every sense of the word, than boys. The duty expected from them is, like all the du­ties arbitrarily imposed on women, more from a sense of propriety, more out of respect for deco­rum than reason; and thus taught slavishly to submit to their parents, they are prepared for the slavery of marriage. I may be told that a num­ber of women are not slaves in the marriage state. True, but they then become tyrants; for it is not rational freedom, but a lawless kind of power resembling the authority exercised by the favourites of absolute monarchs, which they obtain by de­basing means. I do not, likewise, dream of in­sinuating that either boys or girls are always slaves, I only insist that when they are obliged to submit to authority blindly, their faculties are weakened, and their tempers rendered imperious or abject. I also lament that parents, indolently availing themselves of a supposed privilege, damp the first faint glimmering of reason, rendering at the same time the duty, which they are so anx­ious [Page 272] to enforce, an empty name; because they will not let it rest on the only basis on which a duty can rest securely: for unless it be founded on knowledge, it cannot gain sufficient strength to resist the squalls of passion, or the silent sap­ping of self-love. But it is not the parents who have given the surest proof of their affection for their children, or, to speak more properly, who by fulfilling their duty, have allowed a natural parental affection to take root in their hearts, the child of excised sympathy and reason, and not the over-weening offspring of selfish pride, who most vehemently insist on their children submitting to their will merely because it is their will. On the contrary, the parent, who sets a good example, patiently lets that example work; and it seldom fails to produce its natural effect—filial respect.

Children cannot be taught too early to submit to reason, the true definition of that necessity, which Rousseau insisted on, without defining it; for to submit to reason is to submit to the nature of things, and to that God, who formed them so, to promote our real interest.

Why should the minds of children be warped as they just begin to expand, only to favour the indolence of parents, who insist on a privilege without being willing to pay the price fixed by nature? I have before had occasion to observe, that a right always includes a duty, and I think it may, likewise, fairly be inferred, that they forfeit the right, who do not fulfil the duty.

It is easier, I grant, to command than reason; but it does not follow from hence that children cannot comprehend the reason why they are made [Page 273] to do certain things habitually; for, from a steady adherence to a few simple principles of conduct flows that salutary power which a judicious par­ent gradually gains over a child's mind. And this power becomes strong indeed, if tempered by an even display of affection brought home to the child's heart. For I believe, as a general rule, it must be allowed that the affection which we inspire always resembles that we cultivate; so that natural affections, which have been sup­posed almost distinct from reason, may be found more nearly connected with judgment than is commonly allowed. Nay, as another proof of the necessity of cultivating the female understand­ing, it is but just to observe, that the affections seem to have a kind of animal capriciousness when they merely reside in the heart.

It is the irregular exercise of parental authority that first injures the mind, and to these irregu­larities girls are more subject than boys. The will of those who never allow their will to be disputed, unless they happen to be in a good hu­mour, when they relax proportionally, is almost always unreasonable. To elude this arbitrary au­thority girls very early learn the lessons which they afterwards practise on their husbands; for I have frequently seen a little sharp-faced miss rule a whole family, excepting that now and then mamma's anger will burst out of some accidental cloud; either her hair was ill dressed ^*, or she had lost more money at cards, the night before, than [Page 274] she was willing to own to her husband; or some such moral cause of anger.

After observing sallies of this kind, I have been led into a melancholy train of reflection respect­ing females, concluding that when their first af­fection must lead them astray, or make their du­ties clash till they rest on mere whims and cus­toms, little can be expected from them as they advance in life. How indeed can an instructor remedy this evil? for to teach them virtue on any solid principle is to teach them to despise their parents. Children cannot, ought not, to be taught to make allowance for the faults of their parents, because every such allowance weakens the force of reason in their minds, and makes them still more indulgent to their own. It is one of the most sublime virtues of maturity that leads us to be severe with respect to ourselves, and forbearing to others; but children should only be taught the simple virtues, for if they begin too early to make allowance for human passions and manners, they wear off the fine edge of the criterion by which they should regulate their own, and become un­just in the same proportion as they grow indulgent.

The affections of children, and weak people, are always selfish; they love others, because oth­ers love them, and not on account of their vir­tues. Yet, till esteem and love are blended to­gether in the first affection, and reason made the foundation of the first duty, morality will stum­ble at the threshold. But, till society is very differently constituted, parents, I fear, will still in­sist on being obeyed, because they will be obeyed, and constantly endeavour to settle that power on a Divine right which will not bear the investiga­tion of reason.

CHAP. XII. ON NATIONAL EDUCATION.

THE good effects resulting from attention to private education will ever be very confined, and the parent who really puts his own hand to the plow, will always, in some degree, be disap­pointed, till education become a grand national concern. A man cannot retire into a desart with his child, and if he did he could not bring him­self back to childhood, and become the proper friend and play-fellow of an infant or youth. And when children are confined to the society of men and women, they very soon acquire that kind of premature manhood which stops the growth of every vigorous power of mind or body. In or­der to open their faculties they should be excited to think for themselves; and this can only be done by mixing a number of children together, and making them jointly pursue the same objects.

A child very soon contracts a benumbing in­dolence of mind, which he has seldom sufficient vigour afterwards to shake off, when he only asks a question instead of seeking for information, and then relies implicitly on the answer he receives. With his equals in age this could never be the case, and the subjects of inquiry, though they might be influenced, would not be entirely under the direction of men, who frequently damp, if not destroy, abilities, by bringing them forward too hastily: and too hastily they will infallibly [Page 276] be brought forward, if the child be confined to the society of a man, however sagacious that man may be.

Besides, in youth the seeds of every affection should be sown, and the respectful regard, which is felt for a parent, is very different from the so­cial affections that are to constitute the happiness of life as it advances. Of these equality is the basis, and an intercourse of sentiments unclogged by that observant seriousness which prevents dis­putation, though it may not enforce submission. Let a child have ever such an affection for his parent, he will always languish to play and chat with children; and the very respect which he entertains, for filial esteem always has a dash of fear mixed with it, will, if it do not teach him cunning, at least prevent him from pouring out the little secrets which first open the heart to friendship and confidence, gradually leading to more expansive benevolence. Added to this, he will never acquire that frank ingenuousness of behaviour, which young people can only attain by being frequently in society where they dare to speak what they think; neither afraid of being reproved for their presumption, nor laughed at for their folly.

Forcibly impressed by the reflections which the sight of schools, as they are at present con­ducted, naturally suggested, I have formerly de­livered my opinion rather warmly in favour of a private education; but further experience has led me to view the subject in a different light. I still, however, think schools, as they are now regulated, the hotbeds of vice and folly, and the [Page 277] knowledge of human nature, supposed to be at­tained there, merely cunning selfishness.

At school boys become gluttons and slovens, and, instead of cultivating domestic affections, ve­ry early rush into the libertinism which destroys the constitution before it is formed; hardening the heart as it weakens the understanding.

I should, in fact, be averse to boarding-schools, if it were for no other reason than the unsettled state of mind which the expectation of the vaca­tions produce. On these the children's thoughts are fixed with eager anticipating hopes, for, at least, to speak with moderation, half of the time, and when they arrive they are spent in total dissi­pation and beastly indulgence.

But, on the contrary, when t [...]y are brought up at home, though they may pursue a plan of study in a more orderly manner than can be adopted when near a fourth part of the year is actually spent in idleness, and as much more in regret and anticipation; yet they there acquire too high an opinion of their own importance, from being allowed to tyrannize over servants, and from the anxiety expressed by most mothers, on the score of manners, who, eager to teach the accomplishments of a gentleman, stifle, in their birth, the virtues of a man. Thus brought into company when they ought to be seriously em­ployed, and treated like men when they are still boys, they become vain and effeminate.

The only way to avoid two extremes equally injurious to morality, would be to contrive some way of combining a public and private education. Thus to make men citizens two natural steps [Page 278] might be taken, which seem directly to lead to the desired point; for the domestic affections, that first open the heart to the various modifica­tions of humanity, would be cultivated, whilst [...] children were nevertheless allowed to spend great part of their time, on terms of equality, with other children.

I still recollect, with pleasure, the country day school; where a boy trudged in the morning, wet or dry, carrying his books, and his dinner, if it were at a considerable distance; a servant did n [...]t then lead master by the hand, for, when he had once put on coat and breeches, he was allowed to shift for himself, and return alone in the evening to recount the feats of the day close at the parental knee. His father's house was his home, and was ever after fondly remembered; nay, I appeal to some superiour men, who were educated in this manner, whether the recollection of some shady lane where they conned their lesson; or, of some stile, where they sat making a kite, or mending a bat, has not endeared their country to them?

But, what boy ever recollected with pleasure the years he spent in close confinement, at an academy near London? unless, indeed, he should, by chance, remember the poor scarecrow of an usher, whom he tormented; or, the tartman, from whom he caught a cake, to devour it with the cattish appetite of selfishness. At boarding-schools of every description, the relaxation of the junior boys is mischief; and of the senior, vice. Besides, in great schools, what can be more pre­judicial to the moral character than the system of tyranny and abject slavery which is established [Page 279] amongst the boys, to say nothing of the slavery to forms, which makes religion worse than a farce? For what good can be expected from the youth who receives the sacrament of the Lord's supper, to avoid forfeiting half a guinea, which he probably afterwards spends in some sensual manner? Half the employment of the youths is to elude the necessity of attending public wor­ship; and well they may, for such a constant re­petition of the same thing must be a very irksome restraint on their natural vivacity. As these ce­remonies have the most fatal effect on their mo­rals, and as a ritual performed by the lips, when the heart and mind are far away, is not now stor­ed up by our church as a bank to draw on for the fees of the poor souls in purgatory, why should they not be abolished?

But the fear of innovation, in this country, extends to every thing.—This is only a covert fear, the apprehensive timidity of indolent slugs, who guard, by sliming it over, the snug place, which they consider in the light of an hereditary estate; and eat, drink, and enjoy themselves, in­stead of fulfilling the duties, excepting a few emp­ty forms, for which it was endowed. These are the people who most strenuously insist on the will of the founder being observed, crying out against all reformation, as if it were a violation of justice. I am now alluding particularly to the relicks of popery retained in our colleges, when the protestant members seem to be such sticklers for the established church; but their zeal never makes them lose sight of the spoil of ignorance, which rapacious priests of superstitious memory [Page 280] have scraped together. No, wise in their gene­ration, they venerate the prescriptive right of possession, as a strong hold, and still let the slug­gish bell tinkle to prayers, as during the days when the elevation of the host was supposed to atone for the sins of the people, lest one reforma­tion should lead to another, and the spirit kill the letter. These Romish customs have the most baneful effect on the morals of our clergy; for the idle vermin who two or three times a day perform in the most slovenly manner a service which they think useless, but call their duty, soon lose a sense of duty. At college, forced to attend or evade public worship, they acquire an habitual contempt for the very service, the per­formance of which is to enable them to live in idleness. It is mumbled over as an affair of bu­siness, as a stupid boy repeats his task, and fre­quently the college cant escapes from the preach­er the moment after he has left the pulpit, and even whilst he is eating the dinner which he earned in such a dishonest manner.

Nothing, indeed, can be more irreverent than the cathedral service as it is now performed in this country, nor does it contain a [...]et of weaker men than those who are the slaves of this childish routine. A disgusting skeleton of the former state is still exhibited; but all the solemnity that interested the imagination, if it did not purify the heart, is stripped off. The performance of high mass on the continent must impress every mind, where a spark of fancy glows, with that awful melancholy, that sublime tenderness, so near akin to devotion. I do not say that these devotional [Page 281] feelings are of more use, in a moral sense, than any other emotion of taste; but I contend that the theatrical pomp which gratifies our senses, is to be preferred to the cold parade that insults the understanding without reaching the heart.

Amongst remarks on national education, such observations cannot be misplaced, especially as the supporters of these establishments, degenera­ted into puerilities, affect to be the champions of religion.—Religion, pure source of comfort in this vale of tears! how has thy clear stream been muddied by the dabblers, who have presumptu­ously endeavoured to confine in one narrow chan­nel, the living waters that ever flow towards God —the sublime ocean of existence! What would life be without that peace which the love of God, when built on humanity, alone can impart? Eve­ry earthly affection turns back, at intervals, to prey upon the heart that feeds it; and the purest ef­fusions of benevolence, often rudely damped by man, must mount as a free-will offering to Him who gave them birth, whose bright image they faintly reflect.

In public schools, however, religion, confound­ed with irksome ceremonies and unreasonable re­straints, assumes the most ungracious aspect: not the sober austere one that commands respect whilst it inspires fear; but a ludicrous cast, that serves to point a pun. For, in fact, most of the good stories and smart things which enliven the spirits that have been concentrated at whist, are manufactured out of the incidents to which the very men labour to give a droll turn who coun­tenance the abuse to live on the spoil.

[Page 282]There is not, perhaps, in the kingdom, a more dogmatical, or luxurious set of men, than the pe­dantic tyrants who reside in colleges and preside at public schools. The vacations are equally in­jurious to the morals of the masters and pupils, and the intercourse, which the former keep up with the nobility, introduces the same vanity and extravagance into their families, which banish domestic duties and comforts from the lordly mansion, whose state is awkwardly aped on a smaller scale. The boys, who live at a great ex­pense with the masters and assistants, are never domesticated, though placed there for that pur­pose; for, after a silent dinner, they swallow a hasty glass of wine, and retire to plan some mis­chievous trick, or to ridicule the person or man­ners of the very people they have just been cring­ing to, and whom they ought to consider as the representatives of their parents.

Can it then be a matter of surprise that boys become selfish and vicious who are thus shut out from social converse? or that a mitre often gra­ces the brow of one of these diligent pastors?

The desire of living in the same style, as the rank just above them, infects each individual and every class of people, and meanness is the con­comitant of this ignoble ambition; but those professions are most debasing whose ladder is pa­tronage: yet, out of one of these professions the tutors of youth are, in general, chosen. But, can they be expected to inspire independent sen­timents, whose conduct must be regulated by the cautious prudence that is ever on the watch for preferment?

[Page 283]So far, however, from thinking of the morals of boys, I have heard several masters of schools argue, that they only undertook to teach Latin and Greek; and that they had fulfilled their du­ty, by sending some good scholars to college.

A few good scholars, I grant, may have been formed by emulation and discipline; but to bring forward these clever boys, the health and morals of a number have been sacrificed. The sons of our gentry and wealthy commoners are mostly educated at these seminaries, and will any one pre­tend to assert that the majority, making every al­lowance, come under the description of tolerable scholars?

It is not for the benefit of society that a few brilliant men should be brought forward at the expense of the multitude. It is true, that great men seem to start up, as great revolutions occur, at proper intervals, to restore order, and to blow aside the clouds that thicken over the face of truth; but let more reason and virtue prevail in society, and these strong winds would not be ne­cessary. Public education, of every denomina­tion, should be directed to form citizens; but if you wish to make good citizens, you must first exercise the affections of a son and a brother. This is the only way to expand the heart; for public affections, as well as public virtues, must ever grow out of the private character, or they are merely meteors that shoot athwart a dark sky and disappear as they are gazed at and admired.

Few, I believe, have had much affection for mankind, who did not first love their parents, their brothers, sisters, and even the domestic [Page 284] brutes, whom they first played with. The ex­ercise of youthful sympathies forms the moral temperature; and it is the recollection of these first affections and pursuits that gives life to those that are afterwards more under the direction of reason. In youth, the fondest friendships are formed, the genial juices mounting at the same time, kindly mix; or, rather the heart, tempered for the reception of friendship, is accustomed to seek for pleasure in something more noble than the churlish gratification of appetite.

In order then to inspire a love of home and do­mestic pleasures, children ought to be educated at home, for riotous holidays only make them fond of home for their own sakes. Yet, the vaca­tions, which do not foster domestic affections, continually disturb the course of study, and ren­der any plan of improvement abortive which in­cludes temperance; still, were they abolished, children would be entirely separated from their parents, and I question whether they would be­come better citizens by sacrificing the preparato­ry affections, by destroying the force of relation­ships that render the marriage state as necessary as respectable. But, if a private education produces self-importance, or insulates a man in his family, the evil is only shifted, not remedied.

This train of reasoning brings me back to a subject, on which I mean to dwell, the necessity of establishing proper day-schools.

But, these should be national establishments, for whilst school-masters are dependent on the caprice of parents, little exertion can be expected from them, more than is necessary to please ig­norant [Page 285] people. Indeed, the necessity of a mas­ter's giving the parents some sample of the boys abilities, which during the vacation is shewn to every visitor ^*, is productive of more mischief than would at first be supposed. For they are seldom done entirely, to speak with moderation, by the child itself; thus the master countenances falsehood, or winds the poor machine up to some extraordinary exertion, that injures the wheels, and stops the progress of gradual improvement. The memory is loaded with unintelligible words, to make a shew of, without the understanding's acquiring any distinct ideas: but only that edu­cation deserves emphatically to be termed culti­vation of mind, which teaches young people how to begin to think. The imagination should not be allowed to debauch the understanding before it gained strength, or vanity will become the forerunner of vice: for every way of exhibiting the acquirements of a child is injurious to its moral character.

How much time is lost in teaching them to recite what they do not understand? whilst seat­ed on benches, all in their best array, the mam­mas listen with astonishment to the parrot-like prattle, uttered in solemn cadences, with all the pomp of ignorance and folly. Such exhibitions only serve to strike the spreading fibres of vanity through the whole mind; for they neither teach children to speak fluently, nor behave gracefully. So far from it, that these frivolous pursuits might comprehensively be termed the study of affecta­tion; [Page 286] for we now rarely see a simple, bashful boy, though few people of taste were ever disgusted by that awkward sheepishness so natural to the age, which schools and an early introduction into society, have changed into impudence and apish grimace.

Yet, how can these things be remedied whilst school-masters depend entirely on parents for a subsistence; and when so many rival schools hang out their lures, to catch the attention of vain fathers and mothers, whose parental affec­tion only leads them to wish that their children should outshine those of their neighbours?

Without great good luck, a sensible, conscien­tious man, would starve before he could raise a school, if he disdained to bubble weak parents by practising the secret tricks of the craft.

In the best regulated schools, however, where swarms are not crammed together, many bad habits must be acquired; but, at common schools, the body, heart, and understanding, are equally stunted, for parents are often only in quest of the cheapest school, and the master could not live, if he did not take a much greater number than he could manage himself; nor will the scanty pittance, allowed for each child, permit him to hire ushers sufficient to assist in the discharge of the mechanical part of the business. Besides, whatever appearance the house and garden may make, the children do not enjoy the comfort of either, for they are continually reminded by irk­some restrictions that they are not at home, and the state-rooms, garden, &c. must be kept in or­der for the recreation of the parents; who, of a [Page 287] Sunday, visit the school, and are impressed by the very parade that renders the situation of their chil­dren uncomfortable.

With what disgust have I heard sensible wo­men, for girls are more restrained and cowed than boys, speak of the wearisome confinement, which they endured at school. Not allowed, perhaps, to step out of one broad walk in a suberb garden, and obliged to pace with steady deportment stu­pidly backwards and forwards, holding up their heads and turning out their toes, with shoulders braced back, instead of bounding, as nature di­rects to complete her own design, in the various attitudes so conducive to health ^*. The pure animal spirits, which make both mind and body shoot out, and unfold the tender blossoms of hope, are turned sour, and vented in vain wishes, or pert repinings, that contract the faculties and spoil the temper; else they mount to the brain, and sharpening the understanding before it gains proportionable strength, produce that pitiful cun­ning which disgracefully characterizes the female mind—and I fear will ever characterize it whilst women remain the slaves of power!

[Page 288]The little respect which the male world pay to chastity is, I am persuaded, the grand source of many of the physical and moral evils that tor­ment mankind, as well as of the vices and follies that degrade and destroy women; yet at school, boys infallibly lose that decent bashfulness, which might have ripened into modesty, at home.

And what nasty indecent tricks do they also learn from each other, when a number of them pig together in the same bedchamber, not to speak of the vices, which render the body weak whilst they effectually prevent the acquisition of any del­icacy of mind. The little attention paid to the cultivation of modesty, amongst men, produces great depravity in all the relationships of society; for, not only love—love that ought to purify the heart, and first call forth all the youthful powers, to prepare the man to discharge the benevolent duties of life, is sacrificed to premature lust; but, all the social affections are deadened by the selfish gratifications, which very early pollute the mind, and dry up the generous juices of the heart. In what an unnatural manner is innocence often vi­olated; and what serious consequences ensue to render private vices a public pest. Besides, an habit of personal order, which has more effect on the moral character, than is, in general, supposed, can only be acquired at home, where that respect­able reserve is kept up which checks the familiar­ity, that sinking into beastliness, undermines the affection it insults.

I have already animadverted on the bad habits which females acquire when they are shut up to­gether; [Page 289] and, I think, that the observation may fairly be extended to the other sex, till the natural inference is drawn which I have had in view throughout—that to improve both sexes they ought, not only in private families, but in public schools, to be educated together. If marriage be the cement of society, mankind should all be ed­ucated after the same model, or the intercourse of the sexes will never deserve the name of fellow­ship, nor will women ever fulfil the peculiar du­ties of their sex, till they become enlightened citizens, till they become free by being enabled to earn their own subsistence, independent of men; in the same manner, I mean, to prevent misconstruction, as one man is independent of another. Nay, marriage will never be held sa­cred till women, by being brought up with men, are prepared to be their companions rather than their mistresses; for the mean doublings of cun­ning will ever render them contemptible, whilst oppression renders them timid. So convinced am I of this truth, that I will venture to predict that virtue will never prevail in society till the virtues of both sexes are founded on reason; and, till the affections common to both are allowed to gain their due strength by the discharge of mutual du­ties.

Were boys and girls permitted to pursue the same studies together, those graceful decencies might early be inculcated which produce modes­ty without those sexual distinctions that taint the mind. Lessons of politeness, and that formulary of decorum, which treads on the heels of false­hood, would be rendered useless by habitual pro­priety [Page 290] of behaviour. Not indeed, put on for vi­sitors like the courtly robe of politeness, but the sober effect of cleanliness of mind. Would not this simple elegance of sincerity be a chaste hom­age paid to domestic affections, far surpassing the meretricious compliments that shine with false lustre in the heartless intercourse of fashionable life? But, till more understanding preponderate in society, there will ever be a want of heart and taste, and the harlot's rouge will supply the place of that celestial suffusion which only virtuous af­fections can give to the face. Gallantry, and what is called love, may subsist without simplici­ty of character; but the main pillars of friend­ship, are respect and confidence—esteem is never founded on it cannot tell what!

A taste for the fine arts requires great cultiva­tion; but not more than a taste for the virtuous affections; and both suppose that enlargement of mind which opens so many sources of mental pleasure. Why do people hurry to noisy scenes, and crowded circles? I should answer, because they want activity of mind, because they have not cherished the virtues of the heart. They only, therefore, see and feel in the gross, and continu­ally pine after variety, finding every thing that is simple insipid.

This argument may be carried further than phi­losophers are aware of, for if nature destined wo­man, in particular, for the discharge of domestic duties, she made her susceptible of the attached affections in a great degree. Now women are notoriously fond of ple [...]sure; and, naturally must be so according to my definition, because they [Page 291] cannot enter into the minutiae of domestic taste; lacking judgment, the foundation of all taste. For the understanding, in spite of sensual cavil­lers, reserves to itself the privilege of conveying pure joy to the heart.

With what a languid yawn have I seen an ad­mirable poem thrown down, that a man of true taste returns to, again and again with rapture; and, whilst melody has almost suspended respira­tion, a lady has asked me where I bought my gown▪ I have seen also an eye glanced coldly over a most exquisite picture, rest, sparkling with pleasure, on a caricature rudely sketched; and whilst some terrific feature in nature has spread a sublime still­ness through my soul, I have been desired to ob­serve the pretty tricks of a lap-dog, that my per­verse fate forced me to travel with. Is it sur­prising that such a tasteless being should rather caress this dog than her children? Or, that she should prefer the rant of flattery to the simple accents of sincerity?

To illustrate this remark I must be allowed to observe, that men of the first genius and most cultivated minds, have appeared to have the high­est relish for the simple beauties of nature▪ and they must have forcibly felt, what they have so well described, the charm, which natural affec­tions, and unsophisticated feelings spread [...]ound the human character. It is this power of look­ing into the heart, and responsively vibrating with each emotion, that enables the poet to personify each passion, and the painter to sketch with a pencil of fire.

[Page 292]True taste is ever the work of the understand­ing employed in observing natural effects; and till women have more understanding, it is vain to expect them to possess domestic taste. Their lively senses will ever be at work to harden their hearts, and the emotions struck out of them will continue to be vivid and transitory, unless a pro­per education stores their mind with knowledge.

It is the want of domestic taste, and not the acquirement of knowledge, that takes women out of their families, and tears the smiling babe from the breast that ought to afford it nourish­ment. Women have been allowed to remain in ignorance, and slavish dependence, many, very many years, and still we hear of nothing but their fondness of pleasure and sway, their preference of rakes and soldiers, their childish attachments to toys, and the vanity that makes them value ac­complishments more than virtues.

History brings forward a fearful catalogue of the crimes which their cunning has produced, when the weak slaves have had sufficient address to overreach their masters. In France, and in how many other countries, have men been the luxurious despots, and women the crafty minis­ters?—Does this prove that ignorance and de­pendence domesticate them? Is not their folly the by-word of the libertines, who relax in their society; and do not men of sense continually la­ment that an immoderate fondness for dress and dissipation carries the mother of a family for ever from home. Their hearts have not been debauched by knowledge, nor their minds led astray by scien­tific pursuits; yet, they do not fulfil the pecu­liar [Page 293] duties which as women they are called upon by nature to fulfil. On the contrary, the state of warfare which subsists between the sexes, makes them employ those wiles, that frustrate the more open designs of force.

When, therefore, I call women slaves, I mean in a political and civil sense; for, indirectly they obtain too much power, and are debased by their exertions to obtain illicit sway.

Let an enlightened nation ^* then try what ef­fect reason would have to bring them back to na­ture, and their duty; and allowing them to share the advantages of education and government with man, see whether they will become better, as they grow wiser and become free. They cannot be injured by the experiment; for it is not in the power of man to render them more insignificant than they are at present.

To render this practicable, day schools, for particular ages, should be established by govern­ment, in which boys and girls might be educated together. The school for the younger children, from five to nine years of age, ought to be abso­lutely free and open to all classes ^†. A sufficient number of masters should also be chosen by a select committee, in each parish, to whom any com­plaint of negligence, &c. might be made, if sign­ed by six of the children's parents.

Ushers would then be unnecessary; for I be­lieve experience will ever prove that this kind of subordinate authority is particularly injurious to [Page 294] the morals of youth. What, indeed, can tend to deprave the character more than outward sub­mission and inward contempt? Yet how can boys be expected to treat an usher with respect, when the master seems to consider him in the light of a servant, and almost to countenance the ridicule which becomes the chief amusement of the boys during the play hours.

But nothing of this kind could occur in an elementary day school, where boys and girls, the rich and poor, should meet together. And to prevent any of the distinctions of vanity, they should be dressed alike, and all obliged to submit to the same discipline, or leave the school. The school-room ought to be surrounded by a large piece of ground, in which the children might be usefully exercised, for at this age they should not be confined to any sedentary employment for more than an hour at a time. But these relaxations might all be rendered a part of elementary educa­tion, for many things improve and amuse the senses, when introduced as a kind of show, to the principles of which, dryly laid down, children would turn a deaf ear. For instance, botany, mechanics, and astronomy. Reading, writing, arithmetic, natural history, and some simple ex­periments in natural philosophy, might fill up the day; but these pursuits should never en­croach on gymnastic plays in the open air. The elements of religion, history, the history of man, and politics, might also be taught, by conversa­tions, in the socratic form.

After the age of nine, girls and boys, intended for domestic employments, or mechanical trades, [Page 295] ought to be removed to other schools, and re­ceive instruction, in some measure appropriated to the destination of each individual, the two sex­es being still together in the morning; but in the afternoon, the girls should attend a school, where plain-work, mantua-making, millinery, &c. would be their employment.

The young people of superiour abilities, or for­tune, might now be taught in another school, the dead and living languages, the elements of science, and continue the study of history and politics, on a more extensive scale, which would not exclude polite literature.

Girls and boys still together? I hear some read­ers ask: yes. And I should not fear any other consequence than that some early attachment might take place: which, whilst it had the best effect on the moral character of the young people, might not perfectly agree with the views of the parents, for it will be a long time, I fear, before the world is so enlightened that parents, only anxious to render their children virtuous, will let them choose companions for life themselves.

Besides, this would be a sure way to promote early marriages, and from early marriages the most salutary physical and moral effects naturally flow. What a different character does a married citizen assume from the selfish coxcomb, who lives but for himself, and who is often afraid to marry lest he should not be able to live in a cer­tain style. Great emergencies excepted, which would rarely occur in a society of which equality was the basis, a man could only be prepared to discharge the duties of public life, by the habitu­al [Page 296] practice of those inferiour ones which form the man.

In this plan of education the constitution of boys would not be ruined by the early debauche­ries, which now makes men so selfish, nor girls rendered weak and vain, by indolence, and frivo­lous pursuits. But, I presuppose, that such a degree of equality should be established between the sexes as would shut out gallantry and co­quetry, yet allow friendship and love to temper the heart for the discharge of higher duties.

These would be schools of morality—and the happiness of man, allowed to flow from the pure springs of duty and affection, what advances might not the human mind make? Society can only be happy and free in proportion as it is virtuous; but the present distinctions, established in society, corrode all private, and blast all public virtue.

I have already inveighed against the custom of confining girls to their needle, and shutting them out from all political and civil employments; for by thus narrowing their minds they are ren­dered unfit to fulfil the peculiar duties which nature has assigned them.

Only employed about the little incidents of the day, they necessarily grow up cunning. My very soul has often sickened at observing the sly tricks practised by women to gain some foolish thing on which their silly hearts were set. Not allowed to dispose of money, or call any thing their own, they learn to turn the market penny; or, should a husband offend, by staying from home, or give rise to some emotions of jealousy— a new gown, or any pretty bawble, smooths Ju­no's angry brow.

[Page 297]But these littlenesses would not degrade their character, if women were led to respect them­selves, if political and moral subjects were opened to them; and, I will venture to affirm, that this is the only way to make them properly attentive to their domestic duties.—An active mind em­braces the whole circle of its duties, and finds time enough for all. It is not, I assert, a bold attempt to emulate masculine virtues; it is not the enchantment of literary pursuits, or the stea­dy investigation of scientific subjects, that lead women astray from duty. No, it is indolence and vanity—the love of pleasure and the lo [...] of sway, that will rain paramount in an empty mind. I say empty emphatically, because the education which women now receive scarcely deserves the name. For the little knowledge that they are led to acquire, during the important years of youth, is merely relative to accomplishments; and accomplishments without a bottom, for un­less the understanding be cultivated, superficial and monotonous is every grace. Like the charms of a made up face, they only strike the senses in a crowd; but at home, wanting mind, they want variety. The consequence is obvious; in gay scenes of dissipation we meet the artificial mind and face, for those who fly from solitude dread, next to solitude, the domestic circle; not having it in their power to amuse or interest, they feel their own insignificance, or find nothing to amuse or interest themselves.

Besides, what can be more indelicate than a girl's coming out in the fashionable world? Which, in other words, is to bring to market a marriage­ble [Page 298] miss, whose person is taken from one public place to another, richly caparisoned. Yet, mix­ing in the giddy circle under restraint, these but­terflies long to flutter at large, for the first af­fection of their souls is their own persons, to which their attention has been called with the most sedulous care whilst they were preparing for the period that decides their fate for life. In­stead of pursuing this idle routine, sighing for r [...]steless shew, and heartless state, with what dig­nity would the youths of both sexes form attach­ments in the schools that I have cursorily pointed out; in which, as life advanced, dancing, music, and drawing, might be admitted as relaxations, for at these schools young people of fortune ought to remain, more or less, till they were of age. Those, who were designed for particular profes­sions, might attend, three or four mornings in the week, the schools appropriated for their im­mediate instruction.

I only drop these observations at present, as hints; rather, indeed, as an outline of the plan I mean, than a digested one; but I must add, that I highly approve of one regulation mention­ed in the pamphlet ^* already alluded to, that of making the children and youths independent of the masters respecting punishments. They should be tried by their peers, which would be an admi­rable method of fixing sound principles of justice in the mind, and might have the happiest effect on the temper, which is very early soured or ir­ritated by tyranny, till it becomes peevishly cun­ning, or ferociously overbearing.

[Page 299]My imagination darts forward with benevolent fervour to greet these amiable and respectable groups, in spite of the sneering of cold hearts, who are at liberty to utter, with frigid self-im­portance, the damning epithet—romantic; the force of which I shall endeavour to blunt by re­peating the words of an eloquent moralist.— ‘I know not whether the allusions of a truly hu­mane heart, whose zeal renders every thing easy, is not preferable to that rough and repulsing reason, which always finds in indifference for the public good, the first obstacle to whatever would promote it.’

I know that libertines will also exclaim, that woman would be unsexed by acquiring strength of body and mind, and that beauty, soft bewitch­ing beauty! would no longer adorn the daughters of men! I am of a very different opinion, for I think that, on the contrary, we should then see dignified beauty, and true grace; to produce which, many powerful physical and moral cau­ses would concur.—Not relaxed beauty, it is true, nor the graces of helplessness; but such as appears to make us respect the human body as a majestic pile fit to receive a noble inhabitant, in the relics of antiquity.

I do not forget the popular opinion that the Grecian statues were not modelled after nature. I mean, not according to the proportions of a particular man; but that beautiful limbs and features were selected from various bodies to form an harmonious who [...]. This might, in some degree, be true. The fine ideal pictur [...] of an ex­alted imagination might be superiour to the mate­rials [Page 300] which the painter found in nature, and thus [...]g [...]t with propriety be termed rather the [...] of mankind [...]han of a man. It was not, however, the mechanical selection of limbs and features; but the ebullition of an heated fancy that burst forth, and the fine senses and enlarged understanding of the artist selected the solid mat­t [...] ▪ which he drew into this glowing focus.

I observed that it was not mechanical, because a whole was produced—a model of that grand simplicity, of those concurring energies, which arrest our attention and command our reverence. For only insipid lifeless beauty is produced by a servile copy of even beautiful nature. Yet, in­dependent of these observations, I believe that the human form must have been far more beau­tiful than it is at present, because extreme indo­lence, barbarous ligatures, and many causes, which forcibly act on it, in our luxurious state of society, did not retard its expansion, or ren­der it deformed. Exercise and cleanliness appear to be not only the surest means of preserving health, but of promoting beauty, the physical causes only considered; yet, this is not sufficient, moral ones must concur, or beauty will be mere­ly of that rustic kind which blooms on the inno­cent, wholesome, countenances of some country people, whose minds have not been exercised. To render the person perfect, physical and moral beauty ought to be attained at the same time; each lending and receiving force by the combi­nation. Judgment must reside on the brow, af­fection and fancy beam in the eye, and humanity curve the cheek, or vain is the sparkling of the [Page 301] finest eye or the elegantly turned finish of the fairest features: whilst in every motion that dis­plays the active limbs and well-knit joints, grace and modesty should appear. But this fair assem­blage is not to be brought together by chance; it is the reward of exertions met to support each other; for judgment can only be acquired by reflection▪ affe [...]tion by the discharge of duties, and humanity by the exercise of compassion to every living creature.

Humanity to animals should be particularly inculcated as a part of national education, for it is not at present one of our national virtues. Tenderness for their humble dumb domestics, amongst the lower class, is oftener to be found in a savage than a civilized state. For civilization prevents that intercourse which creates affection in the rude hut, or mud cabin, and leads uncul­tivated minds who are only depraved by the re­finements which prevail in the society, where they are trodden under foot by the rich, to domi­neer over them to revenge the insults that they are obliged to bear from their superiours.

This habitual cruelty is first caught at school, where it is one of the rare sports of the boys to torment the miserable brutes that fall in their way. The transition, as they grow up, from barbarity to brutes to domestic tyranny over wives, chil­dren, and servants, is very easy. Justice, or even benevolence, will not be a powerful spring of ac­tion unless it be extended to the whole creation; nay, I believe that it may be delivered as an axi­om, that those who can see pain, unmoved, will soon learn to inflict it.

[Page 302]The vulgar are swayed by present feelings, and the habits which they have accidentally acquired; but on partial feelings much dependence cannot be placed, though they be just; for, when they are not invigorated by reflection, custom weakens them, till they are scarcely felt. The sympa­thies of our nature are strengthened by ponder­ing cogitations, and deadened by thoughtless use. Mackbeth's heart smote him more for one mur­der, the first, than for a hundred subsequent ones, which were necessary to back it. But, when I used the epithet vulgar, I did not mean to con­fine my remark to the poor, for partial humanity, founded on present sensations, or whim, is quite as conspicuous, if not more so, amongst the rich.

The lady who sheds tears for the bird starved in a snare, and execrates the devils in the shape of men, who goad to madness the poor ox, or whip the patient ass, tottering under a burden above its strength, will, nevertheless, keep her coach­man and horses whole hours waiting for her, when the sharp frost bites, or the rain beats against the well-closed windows which do not admit a breath of air to tell her how roughly the wind blows without. And she who takes her dogs to bed, and nurses them, with a parade of sensibility, when sick, will suffer her babes to grow up crook­ed in a nursery. This illustration of my argu­ment is drawn from a matter of fact. The wo­man whom I allude to was handsome, reckoned very handsome, by those who do not miss the mind when the face is plump and fair; but her understanding had not been led from female du­ties by literature, nor her innocence debauched by [Page 303] knowledge. No, she was quite feminine, accord­ing to the masculine acceptation of the word; and, so far from loving these spoiled brutes that filled the place which her children ought to have occupied, she only lisped out a pretty mixture of French and English nonsense, to please the men who flocked round her. The wife, mother, and human creature, were all swallowed up by the factitious character which an improper education and the selfish vanity of beauty had produced.

I do not like to make a distinction without a difference, and I own that I have been as much disgusted by the fine lady who took her lap-dog to her bosom instead of her child; as by the fe­rocity of a man, who, beating his horse, declared, that he knew as well when he did wrong, as a Christian.

This brood of folly shews how mistaken they are who, if they allow women to leave their ha­rams, do not cultivate their understandings, in order to plant virtues in their hearts. For had they sense, they might acquire that domestic taste which would lead them to love with reasonable subordination their whole family, from their hus­band to the house-dog; nor would they ever in­sult humanity in the person of the most menial servant by paying more attention to the comfort of a brute, than to that of a fellow-creature.

My observations on national education are ob­viously hints; but I principally wish to enforce the necessity of educating the sexes together to perfect both, and of making children sleep at home that they may learn to love home; yet to make private support, instead of smothering pub­lic [Page 304] affections, they should be sent to school to mi­ [...]ith a number of equals, for only by the jost­lings of equality can we form a just opinion of ourselves.

To render mankind more virtuous, and hap­pier of course, both sexes must act from the same principle; but how can that be expected when only one is allowed to see the reasonableness of it? To render also the social compact truly equit­able, and in order to spread those enlightening principles, which alone can meliorate the fate of man, women must be allowed to found their virtue on knowledge, which is scarcely possible unless they are educated by the same pursuits as men. For they are now made so inferiour by ignorance and low desires, as not to deserve to be ranked with them; or, by the serpentine wrig­glings of cunning they mount the tree of know­ledge, and only acquire sufficient to lead men astray.

[...]plain from the history of all nations, that women cannot be confined to merely domestic pursuits, for they will not fulfil family duties, unless their minds take a wider range, and whilst they are kept in ignorance they become in the same proportion the slaves of pleasure as they are the slaves of man. Nor can they be shut out of great enterprises, though the narrowness of their minds often make them mar, what they are una­ble to comprehend.

The libertinism, and even the virtues of supe­riour men, will always give women, of some de­scription, great power over them; and these weak women, under the influence of childish [Page 305] passions and selfish vanity, will throw a false light over the objects which the very men view with their eyes, who ought to enlighten their judg­ment. Men of fancy, and those sanguine ch [...] ­acters who mostly hold the helm of huma [...] af­fairs, in general, relax in the society of women; and surely I need not cite to the most superficial reader of history the numerous examples of vice and oppression which the private intrigues of fe­male favourites have produced; not to dwell on the mischief that naturally arises from the blun­dering interposition of well-meaning folly. For in the transactions of business it is much better to have to deal with a knave than a fool, because a knave adheres to some plan; and any plan of reason may be seen through much sooner than a sudden flight of folly. The power which vile and foolish women have had over wise men, who possessed sensibility, is notorious; I shall only mention one instance.

Who ever drew a more exalted female character than Rousseau? though in the lump he constant­ly endeavoured to degrade the sex. And why was he thus anxious? Truly to justify to himself the affection which weakness and virtue had made him cherish for that fool Theresa. He could not raise her to the common level of her sex; and therefore he laboured to bring woman down to her's. He found her a convenient humble companion, and pride made him determine to find some superiour virtues in the being whom he chose to live with; but did not her conduct during his life, and after his death, clearly shew how grossly he was mistaken who called her a [Page 306] celestial innocent. Nay, in the bitterness of his heart, he himself laments, that when his bodily in­firmities made him no longer treat her like a wo­man, she ceased to have an affection for him. And it was very natural that she should, for having so few sentiments in common, when the sexual tie was broken, what was to hold her? To hold her affection whose sensibility was confined to one sex, nay, to one man, it requires sense to turn sensibility into the broad channel of humanity; many women have not mind enough to have an affection for a woman, or a friendship for a man. But the sexual weakness that makes woman de­pend on man for a subsistence, produces a kind of cattish affection which leads a wife to purr about her husband as she would about any man who fed and caressed her.

Men are, however, often gratified by this kind of fondness, which is confined in a beastly man­ner to themselves; but should they ever become more virtuous, they will wish to converse at their fire-side with a friend, after they cease to play with a mistress.

Besides, understanding is necessary to give va­riety and interest to sensual enjoyments, for low, indeed, in the intellectual scale, is the mind that can continue to love when neither virtue nor sense give a human appearance to an animal ap­petite. But sense will always preponderate; and if women are not, in general, brought more on a level with men, some superiour women, like the Greek courtezans, will assemble the men of abil­ities around them, and draw from their families many citizens, who would have stayed at home [Page 307] had their wives had more sense, or the graces which result from the exercise of the understand­ing and fancy, the legitimate parents of taste. A woman of talents, if she be not absolutely ugly, will always obtain great [...]ower, raised by the weakness of her sex; and [...] acquire virtue and delicacy, by the exertion of reason, they will look for both in women, but they can only acquire them in the same way that men do.

In France or Italy, have the women confined themselves to domestic life? though they have not hitherto had a political existence, yet, have they not illicitly had great sway? corrupting themselves and the men with whose passions they played. In short, in whatever light I view the subject, reason and experience convince me that the only method of leading women to fulfil their peculiar duties, is to free them from all re­straint by allowing them to participate the in­herent rights of mankind.

Make them free, and they will quickly be­come wise and virtuous, as men become more so; for the improvement must be mutual, or the in­justice which one half of the human race are obliged to submit to, retorting on their oppres­sors, the virtue of man will be worm-eaten by the insect whom he keeps under his feet.

Let men take their choice, man and woman were made for each other, though not to become one being; and if they will not improve women, they will deprave them!

I speak of the improvement and emancipation of the whole sex, for I know that the behaviour [Page 308] of a few women, who, by accident, or following a strong bent of nature, have acquired a po [...]ion of knowledge superiour to that of the rest of their sex, has often been overbearing; but there have been i [...] of women who, attaining know­ledge, have not discarded modesty, nor have they always pedantically appeared to despise the ignor­ance which they laboured to disperse in their own minds. The exclamations then which any ad­vice respecting female learning, commonly pro­duces, especially from pretty women, often arise from envy. When they chance to see that even the lustre of their eyes, and the flippant sportive­ness of refined coquetry will not always secure them attention, during a whole evening, should a woman of a more cultivated understanding en­deavour to give a rational turn to the conversa­tion, the common source of consolation is, that such women seldom get husbands. What arts have I not seen silly women use to interrupt by flirtation, a very significant word to describe such a manoeuvre, a rational conversation which made the men forget that they were pretty women.

But, allowing what is very natural to man, that the possession of rare abilities is really calcu­lated to excite over-weening pride, disgusting in both men and women—in what a state of inferi­ority must the female faculties have rusted when such a small portion of knowledge as those wo­men attained, who have sneeringly been termed learned women, could be singular?—Sufficiently so to puff up the possessor, and excite envy in her contemporaries, and some of the other sex. Nay, has not a little rationality exposed many women [Page 309] to the severest censure? I advert to well known facts, for I have frequently heard women ridicu­led, and every little weakness exposed, only be­cause they adopted the advice of some medical men, and deviated from the beaten track in their mode of treating their infants. I have actually heard this barbarous aversion to innovation car­ried still further, and a sensible woman stigma­tized as an unnatural mother, who has thus been wisely solicitous to preserve the health of her chil­dren, when in the midst of her care she has lost one by some of the casualties of infancy, which no prudence can ward off. Her acquaintance have observed, that this was the consequence of new-fangled notions—the new-fangled notions of ease and cleanliness. And those who pretend­ing to experience, though they have long adhered to prejudices that have, according to the opinion of the most sagacious physicians, thinned the hu­man race, almost rejoiced at the disaster that gave a kind of sanction to prescription.

Indeed, if it were only on this account, the national education of women is of the utmost con­sequence, for what a number of human sacrifices are made to that moloch prejudice! And in how many ways are children destroyed by the lascivi­ousness of man? The want of natural affection, in many women, who are drawn from their duty by the admiration of men, and the ignorance of others, render the infancy of man a much more perilous state than that of brutes; yet men are unwilling to place women in situations proper to enable them to acquire sufficient understanding to know how even to nurse their babes.

[Page 310]So forcibly does this truth strike me, that I would rest the whole tendency of my reasoning upon it, for whatever tends to incapacitate the maternal character, takes woman out of her sphere.

But it is vain to expect the present race of weak mothers either to take that reasonable care of a child's body, which is n [...]cessary to lay the foundation of a good constitution, supposing that it do not suffer for the sins of its father; or, to manage its temper so judiciously that the child will not have, as it grows up, to throw off all that its mother, its first instructor, directly or indirectly taught; and unless the mind has uncommon vig­our, womanish follies will stick to the character throughout life. The weakness of the mother will be visited on the children! And whilst wo­men are educated to rely on their husbands for judgment, this must ever be the consequence, for there is no improving an understanding by halves, nor can any being act wisely from imitation, be­cause in every circumstance of life there is a kind of individuality, which requires an exertion of judgment to modify general rules. The being who can think justly in one track, will soon ex­tend its intellectual empire; and she who has suf­ficient judgment to manage her children, will not submit, right or wrong, to her husband, or pa­tiently to the social laws which make a nonentity of a wife.

In public schools women, to guard against the errors of ignorance, should be taught the elements of anatomy and medicine, not only to enable them to take proper care of their own health, but to make them rational [...]urses of their infants, par­ents, [Page 311] and husbands; for the bills of mortality are swelled by the blunders of self-willed old women, who give nostrums of their own without know­ing any thing of the human frame. It is like­wise proper, only in a domestic view, to make women acquainted with the anatomy of the mind, by allowing the sexes to associate together in every pursuit; and by leading them to observe the progress of the human understanding in the improvement of the sciences and arts; never for­getting the science of morality, nor the study of the political history of mankind.

A man has been termed a microcosm; and eve­ry family might also be called a state. States, it is true, have mostly been governed by arts that disgrace the character of man; and the want of a just constitution, and equal laws, have so per­plexed the notions of the worldly wise, that they more than question the reasonableness of contend­ing for the rights of humanity. Thus morality, polluted in the national reservoir, sends off streams of vice to corrupt the constituent parts of the body politic; but should more noble, or rather, more just principles regulate the laws, which ought to be the government of society, and not those who execute them, duty might become the rule of private conduct.

Besides, by the exercise of their bodies and minds women would acquire that mental activi­ty so necessary in the maternal character, united with the fortitude that distinguishes steadiness of conduct from the obstinate perverseness of weak­ness. For it is dangerous to advise the indolent to be steady, because they instantly become rigor­ous, [Page 312] and to save themselves trouble, punish with severity faults that the patient fortitude of reason might have prevented.

But fortitude presupposes strength of mind; and is strength of mind to be acquired by indo­lent acquiescence? by asking advice instead of exerting the judgment? by obeying through fear, instead of practising the forbearance, which we all stand in need of ourselves?—The conclusion which I wish to draw, is obvious; make women rational creatures, and free citizens, and they will quickly become good wives, and mothers; that is—if men do not neglect the duties of husbands and fathers.

Discussing the advantages which a public and private education combined, as I have sketched, might rationally be expected to produce, I have dwelt most on such as are particularly relative to the female world, because I think the female world oppressed; yet the gangrene, which the vices engendered by oppression have produced, is not confined to the morbid part, but pervades society at large▪ so that when I wish to see my sex become more like moral agents, my heart bounds with the anticipation of the general dif­fusion of that sublime contentment which only morality can diffuse.

CHAP. XIII. SOME INSTANCES OF THE FOLLY WHICH THE IGNORANCE OF WOMEN GENE­RATES; WITH CONCLUDING REFLEC­TIONS ON THE MORAL IMPROVEMENT THAT A REVOLUTION IN FEMALE MAN­NERS MIGHT NATURALLY BE EXPECTED TO PRODUCE.

THERE are many follies, in some degree, peculiar to women: sins against reason of com­mission as well as of omission; but all flowing from ignorance or prejudice, I shall only point out such as appear to be particularly injurious to their moral character. And in animadverting on them, I wish especially to prove, that the weak­ness of mind and body, which men have endea­voured, impelled by various motives, to perpetu­ate, prevents their discharging the peculiar duty of their sex: for when weakness of [...] will not permit them to suckle their children, and weak­ness of mind makes them spoil their tempers—is woman in a natural state?