prompt:
Chapter: 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 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 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 other; 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," (Vide Milton) 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 toward perfection; (This word is not
strictly just, but I cannot find a better.) 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 superior 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, 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 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 a 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
their natural rights, which the exercise of reason, might have
procured them, and chosen rather to be short-lived queens than
labour to attain 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 frolic 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 forever 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: (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.)  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.

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 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 superior 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 to 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 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
impassionate 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 public 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 for 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 an 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, trembling, 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.  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 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 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 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
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,
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 attached 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 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 woman'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 women," 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 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 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 shows 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 connexions 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 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 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 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, 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 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 show 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, (Many other names might be
added.) 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.

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 world, whilst male beauty is allowed
to have some connexion 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 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 to nature apparently reasonable speculations must
yield.  A further conclusion obviously presents itself; if polygamy
be necessary, woman must be inferior 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 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 sensitive 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
exercise 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 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 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."

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 harem, 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 companion, 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 circumstance 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 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 other's 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 tenor 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.

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 superior 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 part of her business; 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 ribbands, 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,
etc. etc.:  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 around their
persons, and is it surprising that their persons are reckoned most
valuable?  Yet some degree of 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
superior 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 gentlewomen 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 me in the opinion, that trifling
employments have rendered women a trifler.  Men, taking her ('I
take her body,' says Ranger.) 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?  ('Supposing
that women are voluntary slaves--slavery of any kind is
unfavourable to human happiness and improvement.'--'Knox's
Essays'.)

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
arises from a physical or accidental weakness of faculties, time
alone can determine; for I shall not lay any great stress upon the
example of a few women (Sappho, Eloisa, Mrs. Macaulay, the Empress
of Russia, Madame d'Eon, etc.  These, and many more, may be
reckoned exceptions; and, are not all heroes, as well as heroines,
exceptions to general rules?  I wish to see women neither heroines
nor brutes; but reasonable creatures.) 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.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Women are rendered weak by men and by circumstances, Wollstonecraft repeats. They are like slaves in that they only live for the present moment and finally despise that freedom which they never try to attain. Since women are denied genius and rationality, there is little other way to characterize intellect. Man was not created perfect, or else he would cease to exist upon death since existence after life would not be necessary. Man must strive for reason, which is how he is improved. Reason must be the same in men and women since it originates from a divine source, the Creator. Men fall into error when they view education as merely preparation for life and do not consider it the first step toward gradually progressing toward enlightenment and perfection. Wollstonecraft explains that she will now endeavor to point out the various ways in which her sex is degraded. The "grand source of folly and vice has ever appeared to me to arise from narrowness of mind." A mind cannot be expected to expand when it is not threatened by adversity or the pursuit of knowledge "goaded on by necessity." The business of a woman's life is pleasure, but she will not gain wisdom from it. These women exalt their own inferiority, and the men they want to impress actually disdain their weaknesses. The female sex is not much different than the rich because they are born with a set of privileges. Women are used to company and are rarely alone; this leads to the predominance of sentiments, not passions. They are not able to think and ruminate alone and come to their own decisions based on reason. This is also similar to the rich, for "they do not sufficiently deal in general ideas, collected by impassioned thinking, or calm investigation." Wollstonecraft quotes Adam Smith on the same subject; he argues that the rich cultivate the arts by which they submit the rest of mankind to their power and govern their inclinations. However, the rich man does not have actual talents and virtues; his skills are specious and frivolous. In the middle rank of society men have occupations and professions to focus their minds and develop their reason, while women "have no other scheme to sharpen their faculties." Women, like the rich, "have acquired all the follies and vices of civilization, and missed the useful fruit." Civilized women have even less morality than the primitive ones, since civilized women are so weakened. Their opinions waver because they have contradictory emotions instead of progressive views. Novels, music, poetry, and gallantry serve to make women "creatures of sensation," their characters molded by folly. Should one half of the human race really continue in such a fashion and "remain with listless inactivity and stupid acquiescence?" Women earn men's contempt even though they are so soft and fair. If girls were only treated as boys in terms of their fear and displays of weakness, they would grow up to be more respectable. Wollstonecraft asserts, "I do not wish them to have power over men; but over themselves." There is no charm in ignorance. Reason is necessary for a woman to perform any duty properly, but sensibility is not reason. Education in her time tends to make women either fine ladies or "mere notable women," meaning industrious and energetic housewives. With regard to the former, they look down upon vulgar accomplishments while their own offer little to brag about. These women are more amiable but are weak and frail and silly. The housewives are respected by their husbands for being trusty servants, but they are unfit to manage a family. As the rearing of children is a duty given to mothers, women of sensibility do badly because they are carried away by their feelings and spoil their children. Often the female sex is considered to arrive at maturity before the male sex does. This is not helpful for the cause of women because, according to Wollstonecraft, it offers false information. Polygamy is also degrading because it reinforces the idea of women's inferiority and violates nature. Wollstonecraft explains that "much of the evils of life arise from a desire of present enjoyment that outruns itself." This is clear with love, for it is an animal appetite that cannot feed long on itself without extinguishing. Love is transitory. Contrasted with friendship, which is "founded on principle, and cemented by time," love is problematic. Wollstonecraft goes so far as to argue that friendship and love cannot exist together in the same bosom because they are diametrically opposed. Wollstonecraft is not against strong and perseverant passions but the "romantic wavering feelings" of females. The result of this analysis is Wollstonecraft's conclusion that the poorer women in society actually have the most virtue among women due to their toil and heroic actions, devoid of the frippery of fashion and sentimentality. All of the degradations of the female sex "spring from want of understanding," but at least poor women learn how to work hard in order to survive.