A Vindication of the Rights of Women -
Chapter 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 frequently heard fall from
sensible men in favour of an aristocracy: that the mass of mankind
cannot be anything, or the obsequious slaves, who patiently allow
themselves to be driven forward, 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 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.
* Into what inconsistencies do men fall when they argue without the
compass of principles. Women, weak women, are compared with angels; yet,
a superiour order of beings should be supposed to possess more intellect
than man; or, in what does their superiority consist? In the same
strain, to drop the sneer, they are allowed to possess more goodness of
heart, piety, and benevolence.- I doubt the fact, though it be
courteously brought forward, unless ignorance be allowed to be the
mother of devotion; for I am firmly persuaded that, on an average, the
proportion between virtue and knowledge, is more upon a par than is
commonly granted.
The stamen of immortality, if I may be allowed the phrase, is the
perfectibility of human reason; for, were 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
own reason?* Yet outwardly ornamented with elaborate care, and so
adorned to delight man, 'that with honour he may love,'*(2) 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 have
reason or not. If she have, which, for a moment, I will take for
granted, she was not created merely to be the solace of man, and the
sexual should not destroy the human character.
* 'The brutes,' says Lord Monboddo, 'remain in the state in which
nature has placed them, except in so far as their natural instinct is
improved by the culture we bestow upon them.'
*(2) Vide Milton.
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 adorn
the land. This has ever been the language of men, and the fear of
departing from a supposed sexual character, has made even women of
superiour sense adopt the same sentiments.*(2) 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.
* This word is not strictly just, but I cannot find a better.
*(2) 'Pleasure's the potion of th' inferior kind;
But glory, virtue, Heaven for man design'd.'
After writing these lines, how could Mrs. Anna Letitia Barbauld write
the following ignoble comparison?
To a Lady, with some painted flowers.
Flowers to the fair: to you these flowers I bring,
And strive to greet you with an earlier spring.
Flowers SWEET, and gay, and DELICATE LIKE YOU;
Emblems of innocence, and beauty too.
With flowers the Graces bind their yellow hair,
And flowery wreaths consenting lovers wear.
Flowers, the sole luxury which nature knew,
In Eden's pure and guiltless garden grew.
To loftier forms are rougher tasks assign'd;
The sheltering oak resists the stormy wind,
The tougher yew repels invading foes,
And the tall pine for future navies grows;
But this soft family, to cares unknown,
Were born for pleasure and delight ALONE.
Gay without toil, and lovely without art,
They spring to CHEER the sense, and GLAD the
heart.
Nor blush, my fair, to own you copy these;
Your BEST, your SWEETEST empire is- TO PLEASE.'
So the men tell us; but virtue, says reason, must be acquired by rough
toils, and useful struggles with worldly cares.
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, 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 sacrifices
pleasure when it is within the grasp, whose mind has not been opened and
strengthened by adversity, or the pursuit of knowledge goaded on by
necessity?- Happy is it when people have the cares of life to struggle
with; for these struggles prevent their becoming a prey to enervating
vices, merely from idleness! But, if from their birth men and women be
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, 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
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 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-
'In beauty's empire is no mean,
'And woman, either slave or queen,
'Is quickly scorn'd when not ador'd.' 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 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.
* And a wit, always a wit, might be added; for the vain fooleries of
wits and beauties to obtain attention, and make conquests, are much upon
a par.
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 inferior. So ludicrous, in fact, do these
ceremonies appear to me, that I scarcely am able to govern my muscles,
when I see a man start with eager, and serious solicitude, to lift a
handkerchief, or shut a door, when the lady could have done it herself,
had she only moved a pace or two.
A wild wish has just flown from my heart to my head, and I will not
stifle it though it may excite a horse-laugh.- I do earnestly wish to
see the distinction of sex confounded in society, unless where love
animates the behaviour. For this distinction is, I am firmly persuaded,
the foundation of the weakness of character ascribed to woman; is the
cause why the understanding is neglected, whilst accomplishments are
acquired with sedulous care: and the same cause accounts for their
preferring the graceful before the heroic virtues.
Mankind, including every description, wish to be loved and respected by
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 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 do not sufficiently deal in general
ideas, collected by impassioned thinking, or calm investigation, to
acquire that strength of character on which great resolves are built.
But hear what an acute observer says of the great.
'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 inferior
station can hardly ever arrive at. These are the arts by which he
proposes to make mankind more easily submit to his authority, and to
govern their inclinations according to his own pleasure: and in this he
is seldom disappointed. These arts, supported by rank and pre-eminence,
are, upon ordinary occasions, sufficient to govern the world. Lewis
XIV during the greater part of his reign, was regarded, not only in
France, but over all Europe, as the most perfect model of a great
prince. But what were the talents and virtues by which he acquired this
great reputation? Was it by the scrupulous and inflexible justice of all
his undertakings, by the immense dangers and difficulties with which
they were attended, or by the unwearied and unrelenting application with
which he pursued them? Was it by his extensive knowledge, by his
exquisite judgment, or by his heroic valour? It was by none of these
qualities. But he was, first of all, the most powerful prince in Europe,
and consequently held the highest rank among kings; and then, says his
historian, "he surpassed all his courtiers in the gracefulness of his
shape, and the majestic beauty of his features. The sound of his voice,
noble and affecting, gained those hearts which his presence intimidated.
He had a step and a deportment which could suit only him and his rank,
and which would have been ridiculous in any other person. The
embarrassment which he occasioned to those who spoke to him, flattered
that secret satisfaction with which he felt his own superiority." These
frivolous accomplishments, supported by his rank, and, no doubt too, by
a degree of other talents and virtues, which seems, however, not to have
been much above mediocrity, established this prince in the esteem of his
own age, and have drawn, even from posterity, a good deal of respect for
his memory. Compared with these, in his own times, and in his own
presence, no other virtue, it seems, appeared to have any merit.
Knowledge, industry, valour, and beneficence, 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 -'That what she wills
to do or say
'Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best;
'All higher knowledge in her presence falls
'Degraded. Wisdom in discourse with her
'Loses discountenanc'd, and, like Folly, shows;
'Authority and Reason on her wait.' 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 he enters any profession has his eye steadily fixed on some
future advantage (and the mind gains great strength by having all its
efforts directed to one point), and, full of his business, pleasure is
considered as mere relaxation; whilst women seek for pleasure as the
main purpose of existence. In fact, from the education, which they
receive from society, the love of pleasure may be said to govern them
all; but does this prove that there is a sex in souls? It would be just
as rational to declare that the courtiers in France, when a destructive
system of despotism had formed their character, were not men, because
liberty, virtue, and humanity, were sacrificed to pleasure and vanity.-
Fatal passions, which have ever domineered over the whole race!
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,
consequently they become the prey of their senses, delicately termed
sensibility and are blown about by every momentary gust of feeling.
Civilized women are, therefore, so weakened by false refinement, that,
respecting morals, their condition is much below what it would be were
they left in a state nearer to nature. Ever restless and anxious, their
over exercised sensibility not only renders them uncomfortable
themselves, but troublesome, to use a soft phrase, to others. All their
thoughts turn on things calculated to excite emotion; and feeling, when
they should reason, their conduct is unstable, and their opinions are
wavering- not the wavering produced by deliberation or progressive
views, but by contradictory emotions. By fits and starts they are warm
in many pursuits; yet this warmth, never concentrated into perseverance,
soon exhausts itself; exhaled by its own heat, or meeting with some
other fleeting passion, to which reason has never given any specific
gravity, neutrality ensues. Miserable, indeed, must be that being
whose cultivation of mind has only tended to inflame its passions! A
distinction should be made between inflaming and strengthening them. The
passions thus pampered, whilst the judgment is left unformed, what can
be expected to ensue?- Undoubtedly, a mixture of madness and folly!
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 in the
mould of folly during the time they are acquiring accomplishments, the
only improvement they are excited, by their station in society, to
acquire. This overstretched sensibility naturally relaxes the other
powers of the mind, and prevents intellect from attaining that
sovereignty which it ought to attain to render a rational creature
useful to others, and content with its own station: for the exercise of
the understanding, as life advances, is the only method pointed out by
nature to calm the passions.
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 instructors! what were
we created for? To remain, it may be said, innocent; they mean in a
state of childhood.- We might as well never have been born, unless it
were necessary that we should be created to enable man to acquire the
noble privilege of reason, the power of discerning good from evil,
whilst we lie down in the dust from whence we were taken, never to rise
again.-
It would be an endless task to trace the variety of meannesses, cares,
and sorrows, into which women are plunged by the prevailing opinion,
that they were created rather to feel than reason, and that all the
power they obtain, must be obtained by their charms and weakness: '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 advice, is it surprising that, neglecting
the duties that reason alone points out, and shrinking from trials
calculated to strengthen their minds, they only exert themselves to give
their defects a graceful covering, which may serve to heighten their
charms in the eye of the voluptuary, though it sink them below the scale
of moral excellence?
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 produce some pretty attitudes; but
they shew a degree of imbecility which 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 infantine
airs, if girls were allowed to take sufficient exercise, and not
confined in close rooms till their muscles are relaxed, and their powers
of digestion destroyed. To carry the remark still further, if fear in
girls, instead of being cherished, perhaps, created, were treated in the
same manner as cowardice in boys, we should quickly see women with
more dignified aspects. It is true, they could not then with equal
propriety be termed the sweet flowers that smile in the walk of man; but
they would be more respectable members of society, and discharge the
important duties of life by the light of their own reason. 'Educate
women like men,' says Rousseau, 'and the more
they resemble our sex the less power will they have over us.' This is
the very point I aim at. I do not wish them to have power over men; but
over themselves.
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 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 be but a fraction of a mighty sum, she is
incited by present gratification to forget her grand destination, nature
is counteracted, or she was born only to procreate and rot. Or, granting
brutes, of every description, a soul, though not a reasonable one, the
exercise of instinct and sensibility may be the step, which they are to
take, in this life, towards the attainment of reason in the next; so
that through all eternity they will lag behind man, who, why we cannot
tell, had the power given him of attaining reason in his first mode of
existence.
When I treat of the peculiar duties of women, as I should treat of the
peculiar duties of a citizen or father, it will be found that I do
not mean to insinuate that they should be taken out of their families,
speaking of the majority. 'He that hath wife and children,' says Lord
Bacon, 'hath given hostages to fortune; for they are impediments to
great enterprises, either of virtue or mischief. Certainly the best
works, and of greatest merit for the public, have proceeded from the
unmarried or childless men.' I say the same of women. But, the welfare
of society is not built on extraordinary exertions; and were it more
reasonably organized, there would be still less need of great abilities,
or heroic virtues.
In the regulation of a family, in the education of children,
understanding, in an unsophisticated sense, is particularly required:
strength both of body and mind; yet the men who, by their writings, have
most earnestly laboured to domesticate women, have endeavoured, by
arguments dictated by a gross appetite, which 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 such
important duties the main business of life, though reason were insulted.
Yet, and I appeal to experience, if by neglecting the understanding they
be as much, nay, more detached from these domestic employments, than
they could be by the most serious intellectual pursuit, though it may be
observed, that the mass of mankind will never vigorously pursue an
intellectual object,* I may be allowed to infer that reason is
absolutely necessary to enable a woman to perform any duty properly, and
I must again repeat, that sensibility is not reason.
* The mass of mankind are rather the slaves of their appetites than of
their passions.
The comparison with the rich still occurs to me; for, when men neglect
the duties of humanity, women will follow their example; 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
sits lightly 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 expence of reason, and even the
imagination, why do philosophical men complain of their fickleness? The
sexual attention of man particularly acts on female sensibility, and
this sympathy has been exercised from their youth up. A husband cannot
long pay those attentions with the passion necessary to excite lively
emotions, and the heart, accustomed to lively emotions, turns to a new
lover, or pines in secret, the prey of virtue or prudence. I mean when
the heart has really been rendered susceptible, and the taste formed;
for I am apt to conclude, from what I have seen in fashionable life,
that vanity is oftener fostered than sensibility by the mode of
education, and the intercourse between the sexes, which I have
reprobated; and that coquetry more frequently proceeds from vanity than
from that inconstancy, which overstrained sensibility naturally
produces.
* Men of these descriptions pour it into their compositions, to
amalgamate the gross materials; and, moulding them with passion, give
to the inert body a soul; but, in woman's imagination, love alone
concentrates these ethereal beams.
Another argument that has had great weight with me, must, I think, have
some force with every considerate benevolent heart. Girls who have been
thus weakly educated, are often cruelly left by their parents without
any provision; and, of course, are dependent on, not only the reason,
but the bounty of their brothers. These brothers are, to view the
fairest side of the question, good sort of men, and give as a favour,
what children of the same parents had an equal right to. In this
equivocal humiliating situation, a docile female may remain some time,
with a tolerable degree of comfort. But, when the brother marries, a
probable circumstance, from being considered as the mistress of the
family, she is viewed with averted looks as an intruder, an unnecessary
burden on the benevolence of the master of the house, and his new
partner.
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 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 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 arise 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 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, 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 due
proportion of reflection and self-government, they only inspire love;
and are the mistresses of their husbands, whilst they have any hold on
their affections; and the platonic friends of his male acquaintance.
These are the fair defects in nature; the women who appear to be created
not to enjoy the fellowship of man, but to save him from sinking into
absolute brutality, by rubbing off the rough angles of his character;
and by playful dalliance to give some dignity to the appetite that draws
him to them.- Gracious Creator of the whole human race! hast thou
created such a being as woman, who can trace thy wisdom in thy works,
and feel that thou alone art by thy nature exalted above her,- for no
better purpose?- Can she believe that she was only made to submit to
man, her equal, a being, who, like her, was sent into the world to
acquire virtue?- Can she consent to be occupied merely to please him;
merely to adorn the earth, when her soul is capable of rising to thee?-
And can she rest supinely dependent on man for reason, when she ought to
mount with him the arduous steeps of knowledge?-
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 be 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, 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 be 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 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 expence of their understanding; for,
unless there be a ballast of understanding, they will never become
either virtuous or free: an aristocracy, founded on property, or
sterling talents, will ever sweep before it, the alternately timid, and
ferocious, slaves of feeling.
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 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.
* Many other names might be added.
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 spring-tide of life over, we
look for soberer sense in the face, and for traces of passion, instead
of the dimples of animal spirits; expecting to see individuality of
character, the only fastener of the affections.* We then wish to
converse, not to fondle; to give scope to our imaginations as well as to
the sensations of our hearts.
* The strength of an affection is, generally, in the same proportion as
the character of the species in the object beloved.
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 to nature, apparently reasonable speculations must yield.
A further conclusion obviously presented itself; if polygamy be
necessary, woman must be inferior to man, and made for him.
With respect to the formation of the fetus in the womb, we are very
ignorant; but it appears to me probable, that an accidental physical
cause may account for this phenomenon, and prove it not to be a law of
nature. I have met with some pertinent observations on the subject in
Forster's Account of the Isles of the South-Sea, that will explain
my meaning. After observing that of the two sexes amongst animals, the
most vigorous and hottest constitution always prevails, and produces its
kind; he adds,- 'If this be applied to the inhabitants of Africa, it is
evident that the men there, accustomed to polygamy, are enervated by
the use of so many women, and therefore less vigorous; the women, on the
contrary, are of a hotter constitution, not only on account of their
more irritable nerves, more 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.'
The necessity of polygamy, therefore, does not appear; yet when a man
seduces a woman, it should, I think, be termed a left-handed marriage,
and the man should be legally obliged to maintain the woman and her
children, unless adultery, a natural divorcement, abrogated the law. And
this law should remain in force as long as the weakness of women caused
the word seduction to be used as an excuse for their frailty and want
of principle; nay, while they depend on man for a subsistence, instead
of earning it by the exertion of their own hands or heads. But these
women should not, in the full meaning of the relationship, be termed
wives, or the very purpose of marriage would be subverted, and all those
endearing charities that flow from personal fidelity, and give a
sanctity to the tie, when neither love nor friendship unites the hearts,
would melt into selfishness. The woman who is faithful to the father of
her children demands respect, and should not be treated like a
prostitute; though I readily grant that if it be necessary for a man and
woman to live together in order to bring up their offspring, nature
never intended that a man should have more than one wife.
Still, highly as I respect marriage, as the foundation of almost every
social virtue, I cannot avoid feeling the most lively compassion for
those unfortunate females who are broken off from society, and by one
error torn from all those affections and relationships that improve the
heart and mind. It does not frequently even deserve the name of error;
for many innocent girls become the dupes of a sincere, affectionate
heart, and still more are, as it may emphatically be termed, ruined
before they know the difference between virtue and vice:- and thus
prepared by their education for infamy, they become infamous.
Asylums and Magdalenes 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, have then a
more powerful stimulus than either appetite or vanity; and this remark
gives force to the prevailing opinion, that with chastity all is lost
that is respectable in woman. Her character depends on the observance of
one virtue, though the only passion fostered in her heart- is love. Nay,
the honour of a woman is not made even to depend on her will.
When Richardson* makes Clarissa tell Lovelace that he had robbed
her of her honour, he must have had strange notions of honour and
virtue. For, miserable beyond all names of misery is the condition of a
being, who could be degraded without its own consent! This excess of
strictness I have heard vindicated as a salutary error. I shall answer
in the words of Leibnitz- 'Errors are often useful; but it is commonly
to remedy other errors.'
* Dr. Young supports the same opinion, in his plays, when he talks of
the misfortune that shunned the light of day.
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 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 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 of austerity; and to endeavour to
trick her out in the garb of pleasure, because the epithet has been used
as another name for beauty, is to exalt her on a quicksand; a most
insidious attempt to hasten her fall by apparent respect. Virtue and
pleasure are not, in fact, so nearly allied in this life as some
eloquent writers have laboured to prove. Pleasure prepares the fading
wreath, and mixes the intoxicating cup; but the fruit which virtue
gives, is the recompence of toil: and, gradually seen as it ripens, only
affords calm satisfaction; nay, appearing to be the result of the
natural tendency of things, it is scarcely observed. Bread, the common
food of life, seldom thought of as a blessing, supports the constitution
and preserves health; still feasts delight the heart of man, though
disease and even death lurk in the cup or dainty that elevates the
spirits or tickles the palate. The lively heated imagination likewise,
to apply the comparison, 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 thought and wish, that do not nurture pure affection and
permanent virtue.- Permanent virtue! alas! Rousseau, respectable
visionary! thy paradise would soon be violated by the entrance of some
unexpected guest. Like Milton's it would only contain angels, or men
sunk below the dignity of rational creatures. Happiness is not material,
it cannot be seen or felt! Yet the eager pursuit of the good which every
one shapes to his own fancy, proclaims man the lord of this lower world,
and to be an intelligential creature, who is not to receive, but acquire
happiness. They, therefore, who complain of the delusions of passion, do
not recollect that they are exclaiming against a strong proof of the
immortality of the soul.
But leaving superior minds to correct themselves, and pay dearly for
their experience, it is necessary to observe, that it is not against
strong, persevering passions; but romantic wavering feelings that I
wish to guard the female heart by exercising the understanding: for
these paradisiacal reveries are oftener the effect of idleness than of a
lively fancy.
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; 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.
Chapter Four Continued