A Vindication of the Rights of Woman
capacitating them artfully to discover the means of attaining a
known end, but which would never enable them to discover that end
itself. The social relations of the sexes are indeed truly
admirable: from their union there results a moral person, of which
woman may be termed the eyes, and man the hand, with this
dependence on each other, that it is from the man that the woman is
to learn what she is to see, and it is of the woman that man is to
learn what he ought to do. If woman could recur to the first
principles of things as well as man, and man was capacitated to
enter into their minutae as well as woman, always independent of
each other, they would live in perpetual discord, and their union
could not subsist. But in the present harmony which naturally
subsists between them, their different faculties tend to one common
end; it is difficult to say which of them conduces the most to it:
each follows the impulse of the other; each is obedient, and both
are masters."
"As the conduct of a woman is subservient to the public opinion,
her faith in matters of religion, should for that very reason, be
subject to authority. 'Every daughter ought to be of the same
religion as her mother, and every wife to be of the same religion
as her husband: for, though such religion should be false, that
docility which induces the mother and daughter to submit to the
order of nature, takes away, in the sight of God, the criminality
of their error'.* As they are not in a capacity to judge for
themselves, they ought to abide by the decision of their fathers
and husbands as confidently as by that of the church."
(*Footnote. What is to be the consequence, if the mother's and
husband's opinion should chance not to agree? An ignorant person
cannot be reasoned out of an error, and when persuaded to give up
one prejudice for another the mind is unsettled. Indeed, the
husband may not have any religion to teach her though in such a
situation she will be in great want of a support to her virtue,
independent of worldly considerations.)
"As authority ought to regulate the religion of the women, it is
not so needful to explain to them the reasons for their belief, as
to lay down precisely the tenets they are to believe: for the
creed, which presents only obscure ideas to the mind, is the source
of fanaticism; and that which presents absurdities, leads to
infidelity."
Absolute, uncontroverted authority, it seems, must subsist
somewhere: but is not this a direct and exclusive appropriation of
reason? The RIGHTS of humanity have been thus confined to the male
line from Adam downwards. Rousseau would carry his male
aristocracy still further, for he insinuates, that he should not
blame those, who contend for leaving woman in a state of the most
profound ignorance, if it were not necessary, in order to preserve
her chastity, and justify the man's choice in the eyes of the
world, to give her a little knowledge of men, and the customs
produced by human passions; else she might propagate at home
without being rendered less voluptuous and innocent by the exercise
of her understanding: excepting, indeed, during the first year of
marriage, when she might employ it to dress, like Sophia. "Her
dress is extremely modest in appearance, and yet very coquettish in
fact: she does not make a display of her charms, she conceals
them; but, in concealing them, she knows how to affect your
imagination. Every one who sees her, will say, There is a modest
and discreet girl; but while you are near her, your eyes and
affections wander all over her person, so that you cannot withdraw
them; and you would conclude that every part of her dress, simple
as it seems, was only put in its proper order to be taken to pieces
by the imagination." Is this modesty? Is this a preparation for
immortality? Again. What opinion are we to form of a system of
education, when the author says of his heroine, "that with her,
doing things well is but a SECONDARY concern; her principal concern
is to do them NEATLY."
Secondary, in fact, are all her virtues and qualities, for,
respecting religion, he makes her parents thus address her,
accustomed to submission--"Your husband will instruct you in good
time."
After thus cramping a woman's mind, if, in order to keep it fair,
he has not made it quite a blank, he advises her to reflect, that a
reflecting man may not yawn in her company, when he is tired of
caressing her. What has she to reflect about, who must obey? and
would it not be a refinement on cruelty only to open her mind to
make the darkness and misery of her fate VISIBLE? Yet these are
his sensible remarks; how consistent with what I have already been
obliged to quote, to give a fair view of the subject, the reader
may determine.
"They who pass their whole lives in working for their daily bread,
have no ideas beyond their business or their interest, and all
their understanding seems to lie in their fingers' ends. This
ignorance is neither prejudicial to their integrity nor their
morals; it is often of service to them. Sometimes, by means of
reflection, we are led to compound with our duty, and we conclude,
by substituting a jargon of words, in the room of things. Our own
conscience is the most enlightened philosopher. There is no need
of being acquainted with Tully's offices, to make a man of probity:
and perhaps the most virtuous woman in the world is the least
acquainted with the definition of virtue. But it is no less true,
than an improved understanding only can render society agreeable;
and it is a melancholy thing for a father of a family, who is fond
of home, to be obliged to be always wrapped up in himself, and to
have nobody about him to whom he can impart his sentiments.
"Besides, how should a woman void of reflection be capable of
educating her children? How should she discern what is proper for
them? How should she incline them to those virtues she is
unacquainted with, or to that merit of which she has no idea? She
can only sooth or chide them; render them insolent or timid; she
will make them formal coxcombs, or ignorant blockheads; but will
never make them sensible or amiable." How indeed should she, when
her husband is not always at hand to lend her his reason --when
they both together make but one moral being? A blind will, "eyes
without hands," would go a very little way; and perchance his
abstract reason, that should concentrate the scattered beams of her
practical reason, may be employed in judging of the flavour of
wine, discanting on the sauces most proper for turtle; or, more
profoundly intent at a card-table, he may be generalizing his ideas
as he bets away his fortune, leaving all the minutiae of education
to his helpmate or chance.
But, granting that woman ought to be beautiful, innocent, and
silly, to render her a more alluring and indulgent companion--what
is her understanding sacrificed for? And why is all this
preparation necessary only, according to Rousseau's own account, to
make her the mistress of her husband, a very short time? For no
man ever insisted more on the transient nature of love. Thus
speaks the philosopher. "Sensual pleasures are transient. The
habitual state of the affections always loses by their
gratification. The imagination, which decks the object of our
desires, is lost in fruition. Excepting the Supreme Being, who is
self-existent, there is nothing beautiful but what is ideal."
But he returns to his unintelligible paradoxes again, when he thus
addresses Sophia. "Emilius, in becoming your husband, is become
your master, and claims your obedience. Such is the order of
nature. When a man is married, however, to such a wife as Sophia,
it is proper he should be directed by her: this is also agreeable
to the order of nature: it is, therefore, to give you as much
authority over his heart as his sex gives him over your person,
that I have made you the arbiter of his pleasures. It may cost
you, perhaps, some disagreeable self-denial; but you will be
certain of maintaining your empire over him, if you can preserve it
over yourself; what I have already observed, also shows me, that
this difficult attempt does not surpass your courage.
"Would you have your husband constantly at your feet? keep him at
some distance from your person. You will long maintain the
authority of love, if you know but how to render your favours rare
and valuable. It is thus you may employ even the arts of coquetry
in the service of virtue, and those of love in that of reason."
I shall close my extracts with a just description of a comfortable
couple. "And yet you must not imagine, that even such management
will always suffice. Whatever precaution be taken, enjoyment will,
by degrees, take off the edge of passion. But when love hath
lasted as long as possible, a pleasing habitude supplies its place,
and the attachment of a mutual confidence succeeds to the
transports of passion. Children often form a more agreeable and
permanent connexion between married people than even love itself.
When you cease to be the mistress of Emilius, you will continue to
be his wife and friend; you will be the mother of his children."
(Rousseau's Emilius.)
Children, he truly observes, form a much more permanent connexion
between married people than love. Beauty he declares will not be
valued, or even seen, after a couple have lived six months
together; artificial graces and coquetry will likewise pall on the
senses: why then does he say, that a girl should be educated for
her husband with the same care as for an eastern haram?
I now appeal from the reveries of fancy and refined licentiousness
to the good sense of mankind, whether, if the object of education
be to prepare women to become chaste wives and sensible mothers,
the method so plausibly recommended in the foregoing sketch, be the
one best calculated to produce those ends? Will it be allowed that
the surest way to make a wife chaste, is to teach her to practise
the wanton arts of a mistress, termed virtuous coquetry by the
sensualist who can no longer relish the artless charms of
sincerity, or taste the pleasure arising from a tender intimacy,
when confidence is unchecked by suspicion, and rendered interesting
by sense?
The man who can be contented to live with a pretty useful companion
without a mind, has lost in voluptuous gratifications a taste for
more refined enjoyments; he has never felt the calm satisfaction
that refreshes the parched heart, like the silent dew of heaven--of
being beloved by one who could understand him. In the society of
his wife he is still alone, unless when the man is sunk in the
brute. "The charm of life," says a grave philosophical reasoner,
is "sympathy; nothing pleases us more than to observe in other men
a fellow-feeling with all the emotions of our own breast."
But, according to the tenor of reasoning by which women are kept
from the tree of knowledge, the important years of youth, the
usefulness of age, and the rational hopes of futurity, are all to
be sacrificed, to render woman an object of desire for a short
time. Besides, how could Rousseau expect them to be virtuous and
constant when reason is neither allowed to be the foundation of
their virtue, nor truth the object of their inquiries?
But all Rousseau's errors in reasoning arose from sensibility, and
sensibility to their charms women are very ready to forgive! When
he should have reasoned he became impassioned, and reflection
inflamed his imagination, instead of enlightening his
understanding. Even his virtues also led him farther astray; for,
born with a warm constitution and lively fancy, nature carried him
toward the other sex with such eager fondness, that he soon became