THE EUROPEAN PLAN

Every mishap among American women brings out renewed suggestions of what

may be called the "European plan" in the training of young girls,--the

plan, that is, of extreme seclusion and helplessness. It is usually

forgotten, in these suggestions, that not much protection is really given

anywhere to this particular class as a whole. Everywhere in Europe the

restrictions are of caste, not of sex. Even in Turkey, travellers tell us,

women of the humbler vocations are not much secluded. It is not the object

of the "European plan," in any form, to protect the virtue of young women,

as such, but only of young ladies; and the protection is pretty effectually

limited to that order. Among the Portuguese in the island of Fayal I found

it to be the ambition of each humble family to bring up one daughter in a

sort of lady-like seclusion: she never went into the street alone, or

without a hood which was equivalent to a veil; she was taught indoor

industries only; she was constantly under the eye of her mother. But in

order that one daughter might be thus protected, all the other daughters

were allowed to go alone, day or evening, bareheaded or bare-footed, by the

loneliest mountain-paths, to bring oranges or firewood or whatever their

work may be--heedless of protection. The safeguard was for a class: the

average exposure of young womanhood was far greater than with us. So in

London, while you rarely see a young lady alone in the streets, the

housemaid is sent on errands at any hour of the evening with a freedom at

which our city domestics would quite rebel; and one has to stay but a short

time in Paris to see how entirely limited to a class is the alleged

restraint under which young French girls are said to be kept.

Again, it is to be remembered that the whole "European plan," so far as it

is applied on the continent of Europe, is a plan based upon utter distrust

and suspicion, not only as to chastity, but as to all other virtues. It is

applied among the higher classes almost as consistently to boys as to

girls. In every school under church auspices, it is the French theory that

boys are never to be left unwatched for a moment; and it is as steadily

assumed that girls will be untruthful if left to themselves, as that they

will do every other wrong. This to the Anglo-Saxon race seems very

demoralizing. "Suspicion," said Sir Philip Sidney, "is the way to lose that

which we fear to lose." Readers of the Bronte novels will remember the

disgust of the English pupils and teachers in French schools at the

constant espionage around them; and I have more than once heard young girls

who had been trained at such institutions say that it was a wonder if they

had any truthfulness left, so invariable was the assumption that it was the

nature of young girls to lie. I cannot imagine anything less likely to

create upright and noble character, in man or woman, than the systematic

application of the "European plan."

And that it produces just the results that might be feared, the whole tone

of European literature proves. Foreigners, no doubt, do habitual injustice

to the morality of French households; but it is impossible that fiction can

utterly misrepresent the community which produces and reads it. When one

thinks of the utter lightness of tone with which breaches, both of truth

and chastity, are treated even in the better class of French novels and

plays, it seems absurd to deny the correctness of the picture. Besides, it

is not merely a question of plays and novels. Consider, for instance, the

contempt with which Taine treats Thackeray for representing the mother of

Pendennis as suffering agonies when she thinks that her son has seduced a

young girl, a social inferior. Thackeray is not really considered a model

of elevated tone, as to such matters, among English writers; but the

Frenchman is simply amazed that the Englishman should describe even the

saintliest of mothers as attaching so much weight to such a small affair.

An able newspaper writer, quoted with apparent approval by the "Boston

Daily Advertiser," praises the supposed foreign method for the "habit of

dependence and deference" that it produces; and because it gives to a young

man a wife whose "habit of deference is established." But it must be

remembered, that, where this theory is established, the habit of deference

is logically carried much farther than mere conjugal convenience would take

it. Its natural outcome is the authority of the priest, not of the husband.

That domination of the women of France by the priesthood which forms even

now the chief peril of the republic--which is the strength of legitimism

and imperialism and all other conspiracies against the liberty of the

French people--is only the visible and inevitable result of this dangerous

docility.

One thing is certain, that the best preparation for freedom is freedom; and

that no young girls are so poorly prepared for American life as those whose

early years are passed in Europe. Some of the worst imprudences, the most

unmaidenly and offensive actions, that I have ever heard of in decent

society, have been on the part of young women educated abroad, who have

been launched into American life without its early training,--have been

treated as children until they suddenly awakened to the freedom of women.

On the other hand, I remember with pleasure, that a cultivated French

mother, whose daughter's fine qualities were the best seal of her

motherhood, once told me that the models she had chosen in her daughter's

training were certain families of American young ladies, of whom she had,

through peculiar circumstances, seen much in Paris.

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