CHAPTER VI

MENDELISM AND WOMANHOOD

We are accustomed to think of Mendelism as simply a theory of heredity,

by which term we should properly understand the relation between living

generations. Now Mendelism is certainly this, but I believe that it is

vastly more. Already the claim has been made, though not, perhaps, in

adequate measure, by the Mendelians, and I am convinced that their title

to it will be upheld. Mendelism has already effected a really

epoch-making advance in our knowledge of heredity--the relations between

parents and offspring; but we shall learn ere long that it has yet more

to teach us regarding the very constitution of living beings. As modern

chemistry can analyse a highly complex molecule into its constituent

elementary atoms, so the Mendelians promise ere long to enable us to

effect an _organic analysis_ of living creatures. For many decades past

theory has perceived that, in the germ-cells whence we and the higher

animals and plants are developed, there must exist--somewhere

intermediate between the chemical molecule and the vital unit, the cell

itself--units which Herbert Spencer, the first and greatest of their

students, called physiological or constitutional units. Since his day

they have been re-discovered--or rather re-named--by a host of students,

including Haeckel, Weismann, and many of scarcely less distinction. The

Mendelian "factors," as I maintain must be clear to any student of the

idea, are Spencer's physiological units. Of course neither Spencer nor

any one else, until the re-discovery of Mendel's work, had any notion at

all of the remarkable fashion in which these units are treated in the

process whereby germ-cells are prepared for their great destiny. The

rule, as we now know, is that one germ-cell contains any given unit,

while another does not. The process of cell-division, whereby the

germ-cells or gametes[5] are made, is called gameto-genesis. Somewhere

in its course there occurs the capital fact discovered by Mendel and

called by him segregation. A cell divides into two--which are the final

gametes. One of these will definitely contain the Mendelian factor, and

the other will be as definitely without it. Definite consequences follow

in the constitution of the offspring; and such is the Mendelian

contribution to heredity. But we must see that these inquiries cannot be

far pursued without telling us vastly more than we ever knew before of

not only the relation between individuals of successive generations, but

the very structure of the individuals themselves. It is by the study of

heredity that we shall learn to understand the individual. For instance,

experimental breeding of the fowl reveals the existence of the brooding

instinct as a definite unit, which enters, or does not enter, into the

composition of the individual, and which is quite distinct from the

capacity to produce eggs. Here is a definite distinction suggested, for

the case of the fowl, between two really distinct things which, for

several years past, I have called respectively physical and psychical

motherhood. The analysis will doubtless go far further, but already the

facts of experiment help us to realize the composition of the individual

mother--for instance, the number of possible variants, and the

non-necessity of a connection between the capacity to produce children

and the parental instinct upon which the care of them depends, and

without which entire and perfect motherhood cannot be.

The Mendelians are teaching us, too, that their "factors," the units of

which we are made, are often intertangled or mutually repellent. If

such-and-such goes into the germ-cell, so must something else; or if the

one, then never the other. There may thus be naturally determined

conditions of entire womanhood; just as one may be externally a woman,

yet lack certain of the fractional constituents which are necessary for

the perfect being. Complete womanhood, like genius--rarer though not

more valuable--depends upon the co-existence of _many_ factors, some of

which may be coupled and segregated together in gameto-genesis, while

others may be quite independent, only chance determining the throw of

them. And the question of incompatibility or mutual repulsion of factors

is of the gravest concern; as, for instance, if it were the case--and

the illustration is perhaps none too far-fetched--that the factor for

the brooding instinct and the factor for intellect can scarcely be

allotted together to a single cell.

This question of compatibilities is illustrated very strikingly by the

case of the worker-bee. There is as yet no purely Mendelian

interpretation of this case, Mendel's own laborious work upon heredity

in bees having been entirely lost, and practically nothing having been

done since. Yet, as will be evident, the main argument of Geddes and

Thomson leads us to a similar interpretation of this case in terms of

compatibility.

The worker-bee is an individual of a most remarkable and admirable kind,

from whom mankind have yet a thousand truths to learn. She is

distinguished primarily by the rare and high development of her nervous

apparatus. In terms of brain and mind, using these words in a general

sense, the worker-bee is almost the paragon of animals. The ancients

supposed that the queen-bee was indeed the queen and ruler of the hive.

Here, they thought, was the organizing genius, the forethought, the

exquisite skill in little things and great, upon which the welfare of

the hive and the future of the race depend. But, in point of fact, the

queen-bee is a fool. Her brain and mind are of the humblest order. She

never organizes anything, and does not rule even herself, but does what

she is told. She is entirely specialized for motherhood; but the

thinking, and the determination of the conditions of her motherhood, are

in the hands of other females, also highly specialized, and certainly

the least selfish of living things--_yet themselves sterile, incapable

of motherhood_.

Observe, further, that these wonderful workers, so highly endowed in

terms of brain, are amongst the children of the queen, herself a fool;

and that it was the conditions of nourishment, the conditions of

environment or education, which determined whether the young creatures

should develop into queens or workers, fertile fools or sterile wits. We

have here an absolute demonstration that environment or nurture can

determine the production of these two antithetic and radically opposed

types of femaleness.

Now, amongst the bees, this high degree of specialization works very

well. How old bee-societies are we cannot say. We do know, at any rate,

that bees are invertebrate animals, and therefore of immeasurable

antiquity compared with man. No one can for a moment question the

eminent success of the bee-hive; and that success depends upon the

extreme specialization of the female, so as in effect to create a third

sex. Further, we know that nurture alone accounts for this remarkable

splitting of one sex into two contrasted varieties.

I have little doubt that a process which is, at the very least,

analogous, is possible amongst ourselves; nay more, that such a process

is already afoot. In Japan they have actually been talking of a

deliberate differentiation between workers and breeders; such

differentiation, though indeliberate, is to be seen to-day in all highly

civilized communities. Is it likely to be as good for us as for the

bee-hive? And, granted its value as a social structure, is it, even

then, to be worth while?

No one can answer these questions, though I venture to believe that it

is something to ask them. So far as the last is concerned, we must not

admit the smallest infringement of the supreme principles that every

human being is an end in himself or herself, and that the worth of a

society is to be found in the worth and happiness of the individuals who

compose it.

Can we, as human beings, regard a human society as admirable because it

is successful, stable, numerous?

The question is a fundamental one, for it matters at what we aim. As it

becomes increasingly possible for man to realize his ideals, it becomes

increasingly important that they shall be right ones; and there is a

risk to-day that the growth of knowledge shall be too rapid for wisdom

to keep pace with. We are reaching towards, and will soon attain in very

large and effective measure, nothing less than a _control of life_,

present and to come. It may well be that a remodelling of human society

upon the lines of the bee-hive is feasible. It was his study of bees

that made a Socialist of Professor Forel, certainly one of the greatest

of living thinkers; and his assumption is that in the bee-hive we have

an example largely worthy of imitation. But he would be the first to

admit that, as the ordinary Socialist has yet to learn, the nature of

the society is ultimately determined by the nature of the individuals

composing it. It follows that the bee-society can be completely, or, at

all events substantially, imitated only by remodelling human nature on

the lines of the individual bee. This is very far from impossible; there

is a plethora of human drones already, and we see the emergence of the

sterile female worker. But is such a change--or any change at all of

that kind--to be desired?

_The Terms of Specialization._--It surely cannot be denied that there

may be a grave antagonism between the interests of the society and those

of the individual. It is a question of the terms of specialization or

differentiation. In the study of the individual organism and its history

we discern specialization of the cell as a capital fact. Organic

evolution has largely depended upon what Milne-Edwards called the

"physiological division of labour." In so far as organic evolution has

been progressive, it has entirely coincided with this process of

cell-differentiation. That is the clear lesson which the student of

progress learns from the study of living Nature. Let him hold hard by

this truth, and by it let him judge that other specialization which

human society presents.

For this primary and physiological division of labour has its analogue

in a much later thing, the division of labour in human society, upon

which, indeed, the possibility of what we call human society depends.

And it is plain that the time has come when we must determine the price

that may rightly be paid for this specialization. Assuredly it is not to

be had for nothing. Dr. Minot considers that death, as a biological

fact, is the price paid for cell-differentiation. Now surely the death

of individuality is the price paid for such specialization as that of

the workman who spends his life supervising the machine which effects a

single process in the making of a pin, and has never even seen any

other but that stage in the process of making that one among all the

"number of things" of which the world is full. Here, as in a thousand

other cases, it has cost a man to make an expert.

How far we are entitled to go we shall determine only when we know what

it is that we want to attain.

If we desire an efficient, durable, numerous society, there are probably

no limits whatever that we need observe in the process of

specialization. Pins are cheaper for the sacrifice of the individual in

their making. In general, the professional must do better than the

amateur; the lover of chamber music knows that a Joachim or Brussels

Quartet is not to be found everywhere. Specialization we must have for

progress, or even for the maintenance of what the past has achieved for

us; but we shall pay the right price only by remembering the principle

that all progress in the world of life has depended on

cell-differentiation. If we prejudice that we are prejudicing progress.

Now nothing can be more evident than that, in some of our

specializations of the individual for the sake of society, we are

_opposing_ that specialization within the individual which, it has been

laid down, we must never sacrifice. And so we reach the basal principle

to which the preceding argument has been guiding us. It is that the

specialization of the individual for the sake of society may rightly

proceed to any point short of reversing or aborting the process of

differentiation within himself. Every individual is an end in himself;

there are no other ends for society; and that society is the best which

best provides for the most complete development and self-expression of

the individuals composing it.

But how, then, is the division of labour necessary for society to be

effected, the reader may ask? The answer is that the human species, like

all others, displays what biologists call variation--men and women

naturally differ within limits so wide that, when we consider the case

of genius, we must call them incalculable, illimitable. The difference

of our faces or our voices is a mere symbol of differences no less

universal but vastly more important. It is these differences, in

reality, that are the cause of the development of human society and of

that division of labour upon which it depends. In providing for the best

development of all these various individuals we at the same time provide

for the division of labour that we need; nor can we in any other fashion

provide so well. Thus we shall attain a society which, if less certainly

stable than that of the bees, is what that is not--progressive, and not

merely static; and a society which is worth while, justified by the

lives and minds of the individuals composing it.

We are not, then, to make a factitious differentiation of set purpose in

the interests of society and to the detriment of individuals. We are not

to take a being in whom Nature has differentiated a thousand parts, and,

in effect, reduce him, in the interests of others, to one or two

constituents and powers, thus nullifying the evolutionary course. But we

shall frame a society such as the past never witnessed, and we shall

achieve a rate of progress equally without parallel, by consistently

regarding society as existing for the individual, and not the individual

for society, and by thus realizing to the full his characteristic powers

_for himself and for society_.

In so far as all this is true it is true of woman. It has long been

asserted that woman is less variable than man; but the certainty of that

statement has lately lost its edge. It is probably untrue. There is no

real reason to suppose that woman is less complex or less variable than

man. She has the same title as he has to those conditions in which her

particular characters, whatever they be, shall find their most complete

and fruitful development. There is no more a single ideal type of woman

than there is a single ideal type of man. It takes all sorts even to

make a sex. It has been in the past, and always must be, a piece of

gross presumption on man's part to say to woman, "Thus shalt thou be,

and no other." Whom Nature has made different, man has no business to

make or even to desire similar. The world wants all the powers of all

the individuals of either sex. On the other hand, no good can come of

the attempt to distort the development of those powers or to seek

conformity to any type. Much of the evil of the past has arisen from the

limitation of woman to practically one profession. Even should it be

incomparably the best, in general, it is by no means necessarily the

best, or even good at all, for every individual. Men are to be heard

saying, "A woman ought to be a wife and mother." It is, perhaps, the

main argument of this book that, for most women, this is the sphere in

which their characteristic potencies will find best and most useful

expression both for self and others; but that is very different from

saying that every woman ought to be a mother, or that no woman ought to

be a surgeon. We may prefer the maternal to the surgical type, and there

may be good reason for our preference; but the surgeon may be very

useful, and, useful or not, the question is not one of ought. Thoughtful

people should know better than to make this constant confusion between

what ought to be and what is. Let us hold to our ideals, let us by all

means have our scale of values; but the first question in such a case as

this is as to what _is_. In point of fact all women are not of the same

type; and our expression of what ought to be is none other than the

passing of a censure upon Nature for her deeds. We may know better than

she, or, as has happened, we may know worse.

VII

BEFORE WOMANHOOD

We have seen that the sex of the individual is already determined as

early as any other of his or her characters, though the realization of

the potentialities of that sex may be much modified by nurture, as in

the contrasted cases of the queen bee and the worker bee. Children,

then, are already of one sex or other, and though our business in the

present volume is not childhood of either sex, a few points are worth

noting before we take up the consideration of the individual at the

period when the distinctive characteristics of sex make their effective

appearance.

Despite the abundance of the material and the opportunities for

observation, we are at present without decisive evidence as to the

distinctiveness of sex in any effective way during childhood. Here, as

elsewhere, we have to guard ourselves against the influences of nurture

in the widest sense of the word; as when, to take an extreme case, we

distinguish between the boy and the girl because the hair of the one is

cut and of the other is not. The natural, as distinguished from the

nurtural, distinctions at this period are probably much fewer than is

supposed. It is asserted--to take physical characters first--that the

girl of ten gives out in breathing considerably less carbonic acid than

her brother of the same age, thus foreshadowing the difference between

the sexes which is recognized in later years. If this fact be critically

established it is of very great interest, showing that the sex

distinction effectively makes its presence felt in the most essential

processes of the body. But we should require to be satisfied that the

observations were sufficiently numerous, and were made under absolutely

equal conditions, and with due allowance for difference in body-weight.

They would be the more credible if it were also shown that the number of

the red blood corpuscles were smaller in girls than in boys in parallel

with the difference between the sexes in later years.

Children of both sexes have fewer red blood corpuscles in a given

quantity of blood and a smaller proportion of the red colouring matter,

or hæmoglobin, than adults. Women have very definitely fewer red blood

corpuscles than men, and a smaller proportion of hæmoglobin, and their

blood is more watery. According to one authority this difference in the

hæmoglobin can be observed from the ages of eleven to fifty, but not

before. The specific gravity of the blood is found to be the same in

both sexes before the fifteenth year. Thereafter, that of the boy's

blood rises, and between seventeen and forty-five is definitely higher

than in women of the corresponding age. It thus seems quite clear that,

as we should expect, these differences in the blood, which are

certainly, as Dr. Havelock Ellis says, fundamental, make their

appearance definitely at puberty--a fact which supports the view that

fundamental differences of practical importance between the two sexes

before that age are not to be found. Careful comparative study of the

pulse of children is hitherto somewhat inconclusive, though it is well

known that the pulse is more rapid in women than in men.

On the other hand, it seems clear as regards respiration that as early

as the age of twelve there are definite differences between the sexes.

Several thousands of American school children were examined, and between

the ages of six and nineteen the boys were throughout superior in lung

capacity. The girls had almost reached their maximum capacity at the age

of twelve, and thereafter the difference, till then slight, rapidly

increased.[6] It appears that from eight to fifteen years of age a boy

burns more carbon than a girl, the difference, however, being not great.

But at puberty the boy proceeds to consume very nearly twice as much

carbon per hour as his sister.

Perhaps the matter need not be pursued further. It is sufficient for us

to recognize that puberty is really the critical time, and that in the

consideration of womanhood we may, on the whole, be justified in looking

upon the problem of the girl before that age as almost identical with

her brother's. Yet we must be reasonably cautious, since our knowledge

is small, and there is some by no means negligible evidence of

fundamental physiological differences between the sexes before puberty,

relatively slight though these may be. Therefore, though on the whole

we need make few distinctions between the girl and her brother, and

though we are doubtless wrong in the magnitude of the practical

distinctions which we have often made hitherto, yet we must remember

that these are going to be different beings, and that the main

principles which determine our nurture of womanhood may be recalled when

we are doubtful as to practice in the care of the girl child.

Physiological distinctions, we have seen, probably exist during these

early years, but are of less importance than we sometimes have attached

to them, and of no importance at all compared with what is to come.

Psychological distinctions, we may believe, are still more dubious. For

instance, it is generally believed that the parental instinct shows

itself much more markedly in girls than in boys, and the commonly

observed history of the liking for dolls is quoted in this connection.

As this instinct bears so profoundly upon the later life of the

individual, and as we may reasonably suppose the child to be the mother

of the woman as well as the father of the man, the matter is worth

looking at a little further.

But, in the first place, it has been asserted that the doll instinct has

really nothing whatever to do with the parental instinct in either sex.

Psychologists, whom one suspects of being bachelors, tell us that what

we really observe here is the instinct of acquisition: it really does

not matter what we give the child, though it so happens that we very

commonly present it with dolls; it is the lust of possession that we

satisfy, and in point of fact one thing will satisfy it as well as

another.

The evidence against this view is quite overwhelming. We might quote the

universal distribution of dolls in place and in time as revealed by

anthropology. Wherever there is mankind there are dolls, whether in

Mayfair or in Whitechapel, Japan, the South Sea Islands, Ancient Egypt

or Mexico. Further, there is the observed behaviour of the child,

opportunities for which have presumably been denied to the psychologists

whose opinion has been quoted. The only objection to the theory that the

child will be content with the possession of anything else as well as of

a doll is the circumstance that the child is not so content, but asks

for a doll for choice, and will lavish upon any doll, however

diagrammatic, an amount of love and care which no other toy will ever

obtain. Further, if the child has opportunities for playing with a real

baby, it will be perfectly evident, even to the bachelor psychologist,

that the doll was the vicarious substitute for the real thing.

But now, what as to the comparative strength of this instinct in the two

sexes? Here we must not be deceived by the effects of nurture,

environment, or education. Though finding, as we do, that the little boy

enjoys playing with his dolls as his sister does, we refrain from buying

dolls for him, and may indeed, underestimating the importance of human

fatherhood, declare that dolls are beneath the dignity of a boy though

good enough for his sister. He, destined rather for the business of

destroying life, so much more glorious than saving it, must learn to

play with soldiers. In this fashion we at least deprive ourselves of

any opportunity of critically comparing the strength and the history of

the instinct in the two sexes.

There is good reason to suppose that the distinction between the

psychology of the boy and that of the girl in these early years is very

small. If boys are not discouraged they will play with dolls for choice,

just as their sisters do, and may be just as charming with younger

brothers or sisters. Nor is it by any means certain that this misleading

of ourselves is the worst consequence of the common practice. It is

possible that we lose opportunities for the inculcation of ideals which

are of the highest value to the individual and the race. I am reminded

of the true story of a small boy, well brought up, who, being jeered at

in the street by bigger boys because he was carrying a doll, turned upon

his critics with the admirable retort--slightly wanting in charity, let

us hope, but none the less pertinent--"None of you will ever be a good

father."

Thus, on the whole, one is inclined to suppose that the general

resemblance in facial appearance, bodily contour, and interests which we

observe in children of the two sexes, indicates that deeper distinctions

are latent rather than active. This is much more than an academic

question, for if our subject in the present volume were the care of

childhood, it is plain that we should have to base upon our answer to

this question our treatment of boy and girl respectively. Probably we

are on the whole correct in instituting no deep distinction of any kind

in the nurture, either physical or mental, of children during their

early years. Nor can there be any doubt, at least so far, as to the

rightness of educating them together, and allowing them to compete, in

so far as we allow competition at all, freely both in work and in games.

However this may be, there comes at an age which varies somewhat in

different races and individuals, a period critical to both sexes, in

which the factors of sex differentiation, hitherto more or less latent,

begin conspicuously to assert themselves. Here, plainly, is the dawn of

womanhood, and here, in our consideration of woman the individual, we

must make a start. If we recall the tentative Mendelian analysis already

referred to, we may suppose that the "factor" for womanhood begins to

assert itself, at any rate in effective degree, at this period of

puberty, when a girl becomes a woman; and that its most effective reign

is over at the much later crisis which we call the change of life or

climacteric. In other words, though sex is determined from the first,

and though certain of its distinctive characters remain to the end, we

may say that our study of womanhood is practically concerned with the

years between twelve or thirteen, and forty-five or fifty. Before this

period, as we have suggested, the distinction between the sexes is of no

practical importance so far as _regimen_ and education are concerned.

After this period also it is probable that the difference between the

two sexes is diminished, and would be still more evidently diminished

were it not for the effects which different experience has permanently

wrought in the memory. We begin our practical study, then, of woman the

individual, with the young girl at the age of puberty; and we must

concern ourselves first with the care of her body.

VIII

THE PHYSICAL TRAINING OF GIRLS

We shall certainly not reach right conclusions about the physical

training of girls unless we rightly understand what physical training

does and does not effect, and what we desire it should effect. This

applies to all education--that our aim be defined, that we shall know

"what it is we are after," and it applies pre-eminently to the

education, both physical and mental, of girls.

Now it will be granted, in the first place, that by physical

training--whether in the form of gymnastics or games or what not--we

desire to produce a healthier and more perfectly developed body. Some

will add a stronger body, but as this term has two meanings constantly

confused, it really contains the crux of the question. Stronger may mean

stronger in the sense of resistance to disease or fatigue or strain of

any kind, or it may mean stronger in the sense of the capacity to

perform feats of strength. It being commonly assumed that vitality and

muscularity are identical, this distinction is, on that assumption,

merely academic and trivial. But as muscularity and vitality are not

identical, and have indeed very little to do with each other, and as

muscularity may even in certain conditions prejudice vitality, the

distinction is not academic but all-important. I freely assert that it

is substantially ignored by those who concern themselves with physical

training, whether of boys or girls or recruits, all the world over.

Though a woman is naturally less muscular than a man, her vitality is

higher. This seems to be a general truth of all female organisms. The

evidence is of many orders. Thus, to begin with, women live longer, on

the average, than men do. In the light of our modern knowledge of

alcohol, however, we cannot regard this fact by itself as conclusive,

since the average age attained by men is undoubtedly considerably

lowered by alcohol, and of course to a much greater extent than obtains

in the case of women. But women recover better from poisoning, such as

occurs in infectious disease, and they are far more tolerant of loss of

blood, as indeed they have to be. The same applies to loss of sleep or

food, and to injurious influences generally. These indisputable proofs

of superior vitality co-exist with much inferior muscularity, and are

conclusive on the point. If men would make observations among themselves

and think for a moment, they would soon perceive how foolish they are in

crediting the assumptions of the strong men who so successfully persuade

the public that the great thing is for a man to have big muscles. Men,

muscular by nature, and still more so by nurture, are often in point of

fact really weak compared with much less muscular men who, though they

cannot put forth so much mechanical energy at a given moment, can yet

endure fifty times the fatigue or stress or poisoning of any order.

From the point of view of any sound physiology there is no comparison at

all between the absurd strong man and the slight Marathon runner of

small muscles but splendid vitality. If we are to test vitality in

muscular terms at all--that in itself being a quite indefensible

assumption--we must do so in terms of endurance, and not in terms of

horse power or ass power, at any given moment.

If, then, vitality be our aim in physical training, and not muscularity

as such, nor in any degree except in so far as it serves vitality, it is

plain that we shall to some extent reconsider our methods.

Pre-eminently will this apply to the girl. Just because she is now

becoming a woman, her vital energies are in no small degree pledged for

special purposes of the highest importance, from which we cannot

possibly divert them if we desire that she shall indeed become a woman.

Thus, though muscular exercise of any kind is certainly not to be

condemned, we must be cautious; for, in the first place, muscular

exercise is no end in itself; in the second, the production of big

muscles by exercise is no end in itself; and in the third place, all

muscular exercise is expenditure of energy in those outward directions

which are not characteristic of womanhood, and which must always be

subordinated to those interests that are.

At this period of which we are speaking there are constructions of the

most important kind going on in the girl's body, compared with which the

construction of additional muscular tissue is of much less than no

importance. These building-up processes are, we know, characteristic of

the woman. Their right inception is a matter of the greatest importance.

They involve the actual accumulation of food material and the building

up of it into gland cells and other highly organized tissues upon which

complete womanhood depends. These all-important concerns are prejudiced

by excessive external expenditure, and thus the care necessary for the

boy at puberty is a thousandfold more necessary for the girl, though the

obvious changes in her appearance and her voice may be much less marked.

Greater and more costly constructions are afoot in her case than her

brother's, grossly though these facts are at present ignored in what we

are pleased to call education, both physical and mental.

If we are to decide what kinds of physical exercise will be most

desirable, we must come to some conclusion as to what is the object of

our labours, it being granted that muscular activity and the making of

big muscles are not ends in themselves. The answer to this question is

to be found in what I have elsewhere called the new asceticism.

In tracing the history of animal progress, we find that it coincides

with and has consisted in the emergence of the psychical and its

predominance over the physical. The history of progress is the history

of the evolving nervous system. Muscles are the servants of the nervous

system. In man progress has reached its highest phase in that the

nervous system, which at first was merely a servant of the body, has

become the essential thing, so that the brain is the man. The old

asceticism was at least right in regarding the soul as all-important,

though it was utterly wrong in considering the interests of soul and

body to be entirely antagonistic, and in teaching that for the elevation

of the soul we must outrage, mutilate, and deny the body. The new

asceticism accepts the first principle of the old, but bases its

practice on a truer conception of the relations between mind and body.

The greater part of the body is composed of muscles, and it is with

muscles that physical training is concerned. On our principles, then,

any system of physical training worth a straw must have primary

reference to the brain, since the body, including the muscles, is only

the servant of the ego or self which resides in the brain. For this

reason, if for no other, the development of muscle as an end in itself

is beneath human dignity; the value of a muscle lies not in its size or

strength, but in its capacity to be a useful and skilful agent of the

brain.

The exceptions to this rule are furnished by precisely those muscles

which the usual forms of physical training and gymnastics ignore and

subordinate to the development of the muscles of the limbs. It does

matter very much that man or woman shall have the heart, which is the

most important muscle in the body, and the muscles of respiration in

good order. These muscles are directly necessary for life, and are

therefore servants of the brain, even though they are not in any

appreciable degree the direct agents of its purposes. Any kind of

physical exercise then which, while developing the muscles of the arm,

for instance, throws undue strain upon the heart or involves the

fixation of the chest for a considerable period--as occurs in various

feats of strength, whether with weights or upon bars or the like--is

_ipso facto_ to be condemned. It is now recognized that in the training

of soldiers much harm is often done in this way to the essential

muscles, while others, more conspicuous but of relatively no importance,

are being developed.

But before we consider in detail what kinds of exercise and with what

accompaniment may be permitted for the muscles of the limbs, it is well

that we should agree upon some method of deciding as to the quantity of

such exercise. We cannot go by such measures as hours per week, for

individuals vary. We must find some criterion which will guide us for

each individual. The pendulum has swung in this regard from one extreme

to another. Both extremes were adopted and permitted because in our

guidance of girlhood we ignored facts of physiology, and, notably,

because educators had not a clear conception of what it was that they

desired to attain. By the consent of all who have given any attention to

the subject, the great educational reformer of the nineteenth century

was Herbert Spencer, and not the least of his services was his

liberation of girls from the extraordinary _regimen_ of fifty years ago.

There needs no excuse for a long quotation from the volume in which,

just short of half a century ago, Herbert Spencer discussed this matter.

Thereafter we may observe how the pendulum has swung to the other

extreme:--

"To the importance of bodily exercise most people are in some

degree awake. Perhaps less needs saying on this requisite of

physical education than on most others; at any rate, in so far as

boys are concerned. Public schools and private schools alike

furnish tolerably adequate play-grounds; and there is usually a

fair share of time for out-door games, and a recognition of them as

needful. In this, if in no other direction, it seems admitted that

the promptings of boyish instinct may advantageously be followed;

and, indeed, in the modern practice of breaking the prolonged

morning's and afternoon's lessons by a few minutes' open-air

recreation, we see an increasing tendency to conform

school-regulations to the bodily sensations of the pupils. Here,

then, little need be said in the way of expostulation or

suggestion.

"But we have been obliged to qualify this admission by inserting

the clause in so far as boys are concerned. Unfortunately, the fact

is quite otherwise with girls. It chances, somewhat strangely, that

we have daily opportunity of drawing a comparison. We have both a

boys' school and a girls' school within view; and the contrast

between them is remarkable. In the one case nearly the whole of a

large garden is turned into an open, gravelled space, affording

ample scope for games, and supplied with poles and horizontal bars

for gymnastic exercises. Every day before breakfast, again towards

eleven o'clock, again at mid-day, again in the afternoon, and once

more after school is over, the neighbourhood is awakened by a

chorus of shouts and laughter as the boys rush out to play; and for

as long as they remain, both eyes and ears give proof that they are

absorbed in that enjoyable activity which makes the pulse bound and

ensures the healthful activity of every organ. How unlike is the

picture offered by the Establishment for Young Ladies! Until the

fact was pointed out, we actually did not know that we had a girls'

school as close to us as the school for boys. The garden, equally

large with the other, affords no sign whatever of any provision for

juvenile recreation; but is entirely laid out with prim

grass-plots, gravel-walks, shrubs, and flowers, after the usual

suburban style. During five months we have not once had our

attention drawn to the premises by a shout or a laugh. Occasionally

girls may be observed sauntering along the paths with their

lesson-books in their hands, or else walking arm-in-arm. Once,

indeed, we saw one chase another round the garden; but, with this

exception, nothing like vigorous exertion has been visible.

"Why this astonishing difference? Is it that the constitution of a

girl differs so entirely from that of a boy as not to need these

active exercises? Is it that a girl has none of the promptings to

vociferous play by which boys are impelled? Or is it that, while in

boys these promptings are to be regarded as stimuli to a bodily

activity without which there cannot be adequate development, to

their sisters Nature has given them for no purpose whatever--unless

it be for the vexation of schoolmistresses? Perhaps, however, we

mistake the aim of those who train the gentler sex. We have a vague

suspicion that to produce a robust physique is thought undesirable;

that rude health and abundant vigour are considered somewhat

plebeian; that a certain delicacy, a strength not competent to more

than a mile or two's walk, an appetite fastidious and easily

satisfied, joined with that timidity which commonly accompanies

feebleness, are held more lady-like. We do not expect that any

would distinctly avow this; but we fancy the governess-mind is

haunted by an ideal young lady bearing not a little resemblance to

this type. If so, it must be admitted that the established system

is admirably calculated to realize this ideal. But to suppose that

such is the ideal of the opposite sex is a profound mistake. That

men are not commonly drawn towards masculine women is doubtless

true. That such relative weakness as asks the protection of

superior strength is an element of attraction we quite admit. But

the difference thus responded to by the feelings of men is the

natural, pre-established difference, which will assert itself

without artificial appliances. And when, by artificial appliances,

the degree of this difference is increased, it becomes an element

of repulsion rather than of attraction.

"'Then girls should be allowed to run wild--to become as rude as

boys, and grow up into romps and hoydens!' exclaims some defender

of the proprieties. This, we presume, is the ever-present dread of

schoolmistresses. It appears, on inquiry, that at Establishments

for Young Ladies noisy play like that daily indulged in by boys is

a punishable offence; and we infer that it is forbidden, lest

unladylike habits should be formed. The fear is quite groundless,

however. For if the sportive activity allowed to boys does not

prevent them from growing up into gentlemen, why should a like

sportive activity prevent girls from growing up into ladies? Rough

as may have been their play-ground frolics, youths who have left

school do not indulge in leap-frog in the street, or marbles in the

drawing-room. Abandoning their jackets, they abandon at the same

time boyish games, and display an anxiety--often a ludicrous

anxiety--to avoid whatever is not manly. If now, on arriving at the

due age, this feeling of masculine dignity puts so efficient a

restraint on the sports of boyhood, will not the feeling of

feminine modesty, gradually strengthening as maturity is

approached, put an efficient restraint on the like sports of

girlhood? Have not women even a greater regard for appearances than

men? and will there not consequently arise in them even a stronger

check to whatever is rough or boisterous? How absurd is the

supposition that the womanly instincts would not assert themselves

but for the rigorous discipline of schoolmistresses!

"In this, as in other cases, to remedy the evils of one

artificiality, another artificiality has been introduced. The

natural, spontaneous exercise having been forbidden, and the bad

consequences of no exercise having become conspicuous, there has

been adopted a system of factitious exercise--gymnastics. That this

is better than nothing we admit, but that it is an adequate

substitute for play we deny."

The pendulum has indeed swung across from those days to these of the

hockey-girl, not to mention the girl who throws a cricket-ball and bowls

very creditably overhand. There can be no doubt that this state of

things is vastly better than that was, yet, as one has endeavoured to

insist, this also has its risks. Apart from the question as to the

particular game or form of exercise, we must be guided in each case by

the first signs of anything approaching undue strain. We must look out

for lack of energy, for a lessening of joy in the exercise and of

spontaneous desire therefor. Fatigue that interferes with appetite,

digestion, or sleep is utterly to be condemned.

_The Specific Criterion._--Such criteria apply, of course, equally to

either sex, though it is more important to be on the look-out for them

in the case of the developing girl. But in her case there is another

criterion, which is of special importance, because it concerns not only

her development as an individual, but her development as a woman. That

criterion is furnished us by the menstrual function. It may safely be

said that that exercise is excessive and must be immediately curtailed

which leads to the diminution of this function, much more to its

disappearance. I would, indeed, urge this as a test of the highest

importance, always applicable to whatever circumstances. Defect in this

respect should never be looked upon lightly; it may, indeed, be a

conservative process, as in cases of anæmia, but the cause which

produces such an effect is always to be combated.

_The Kinds of Exercise._--Given, then, this most important test as to

the quantity of exercise of whatever kind--a test which indeed applies

no less to mental exercise--we may pass on to consider the kinds of

exercise best suited for the girl, it being premised that any one of

them, however good in itself and in moderation, is capable of being

pursued to excess, and that the danger of this is specially noticeable

in the case of the girl, because, as we have seen, the effects of excess

are more serious in her case, and also because girls are very apt to

take things up with immense keenness, and sometimes, in even greater

degree than their brothers, to devote themselves too much to the

competitive aspect of things. The girl should certainly be content to

play a game for the joy of it, and be scarcely less happy to lose than

to win if her side has played the game and made a good fight of it. The

competitive element is excessive in almost all sports to-day, and it is

especially to be deplored in the games of girls, who are so liable to

overstrain and so apt to take trifles to heart.

In what has been already said and in the end of our quotation from

Herbert Spencer, it will be evident that purposeful games rather than

exercises are to be commended. There is indeed no comparison for a

moment possible between Nature's method of exercise, which is obtained

through play, and the ridiculous and empty parodies of it which men

invent. The truth is that Nature is aiming at one thing, and man at

another. Man's aim, for reasons already exploded, is the acquirement of

strength; Nature's is the acquirement of skill. It is really nervous

development that Nature is interested in when she appears to be

persuading the young thing to exercise its muscles. Man notices only the

muscular contractions involved, thinks he can improve upon Nature, and

invents absurdities like dumb-bells.

It is the nervous system by which we human beings live. Our voluntary

muscles are agents of the will, agents of purpose; and while strength is

a trifle, skill is always everything. We know now that it is impossible

to carry out any human purpose by the contraction of one muscle or even

one group of muscles. Even when we merely bend the arm we are doing

things with the muscles which extend it, and when we raise it sideways

we are modifying the whole trunk in order to preserve the balance. We

have only to watch the clumsiness of an infant or a small child to

realize how much skill the nervous system has to acquire. This skill may

be mainly expressed as co-ordination, the balanced use of many muscles

for a purpose and, as a rule, their co-ordinated use with one of the

senses, more especially vision, but also touch and hearing.

This is the first of the physiological reasons why games and play of all

sorts are so incomparably superior to the use of dumb-bells and

developers, where movement and increase of muscular strength are made

ends in themselves; whereas in play we are making relations with the

outside world, responding to stimuli, educating our nerve muscular

apparatus as an instrument of human purpose.

It is in part true to suppose that the play of children expresses an

overflow of superfluous energy, but a still deeper and much more

important conception of play is that which recognizes in it Nature's

method of nervous development, the attainment of control and

co-ordination, the capacity of quick and accurate response to

circumstances and obedience to the will. Compare, for instance, the girl

who has played games, avoiding danger as she crosses the road, with

another whose youth has been made dreary by dumb-bells. It may freely be

laid down, then, that systems of physical training are good in

proportion as they approximate to play, and bad in proportion as they

depart from it; and, further, that the very best of them ever devised is

worthless in comparison with a good game. This evidently does not refer

to, say, special exercises for a curved back.

However, systems of physical training we shall still have with us for a

long time to come, and perhaps the mere difficulty of finding room for

games makes them necessary, though it may be noted in passing that the

last touch of absurdity is accorded to our frequent preference for

exercises over games when we conduct the exercises in foul air and

prefer them to games in the open air. If exercises we are to have, then

they must at least be modelled so as to come as near as possible to play

in the two essentials. The first of these has already been

mentioned--the preference of skill to strength as an object.

The second, though less obvious, is no less important. What is the most

palpable fact of the child's play? It is enjoyment. We have done for

ever with the elegant morality which grown-up people, very particular

about their own meals, used to impose upon children, and which was based

upon the idea that everything which a child enjoys is therefore bad for

it. We are learning the elements of the physiology of joy. We find that

pleasure and boredom have distinct effects upon the body and the mind,

notably in the matter of fatigue. Careful study of fatigue in school

children has shown that the hour devoted to physical exercise of the

dreary kind under a strict disciplinarian may, instead of being a

recreation, actually induce more fatigue than an hour of mathematics.

If, then, we cannot allow the girl to play, but must give her some kind

of formal exercise, we must at least make it as enjoyable as possible.

There are Continental systems of gymnastics which do not believe in the

use of music because, forsooth, they find that the music diminishes the

disciplinary effect! Such an argument dismisses those who adduce it from

the category of those entitled to have anything to do with young people.

They should devote themselves to training the rhinoceros, these

martinets; the human spirit is not for their mauling. In point of fact

one of the redeeming features of physical training is the use of music,

which goes far to supply the pleasure that accrues from the natural

exercise of games, and greatly reduces the fatigue of which the risk is

otherwise by no means inconsiderable. We leave this subject, then, for

the nonce, having arrived at the conclusion that the objects of

physical training are skill and pleasure rather than strength and

discipline; that the system is best which is nearest to play; and that

the use of music is specially to be commended.

But, as we have said, artificial physical training at its best is not to

be compared with the real thing; more especially if, as is usually the

case, the real thing has the advantage of being practised in pure air.

We must ask ourselves, then, what sort of games are suitable for girls,

and to what extent, if at all, mixed games are desirable. We must first

remind ourselves of the proviso that any game may be played to excess,

whether physical excess or mental excess, the risk of both of these

being involved when the competitive element is made too conspicuous. If

this risk be avoided there is no objection, perhaps, to even such a

vigorous game as hockey in moderation for girls. The present writer has

observed mixed hockey for many years, and finds it impossible to believe

that the game should be condemned for girls, but he has always seen it

under conditions where the game was simply played for the fun of the

thing, and that makes a great difference.

It is certainly open to argument whether, in such a game as hockey, it

is not better, on the whole, that girls shall play by themselves, but,

as has been urged elsewhere, there is a good deal to be said for the

meeting of the sexes elsewhere than in the artificial conditions of the

ball-room, since these mixed games widen the field of choice for

marriage and provide far more natural and desirable conditions under

which the choice may be made. There can be no question that an epoch has

been created by the freedom of the modern girl to play games, and to

enjoy the movements of a ball, as her brother does. The very fact of her

pleasure in games indicates, to those who do not believe that the body

is constructed on essentially vicious principles, that they must be good

for her. The mere exercise is the least of the good they do. The open

air counts for more, as does the development of skill, and the girl's

opportunity of sharing in that moral education which all good games

involve and which there is no need to insist upon here. Amongst the many

things alleged against woman as natural defects by those who have never

for a moment troubled to distinguish between nature and nurture, are an

incapacity to combine with her sisters, petty dishonour in small things,

a blindness to the meaning of "playing the game." It is similarly

alleged by such persons against the lower classes that they also do not

know how to "play the game," and do not understand the spirit of true

sportsmanship, preferring to win anyhow rather than not at all. But

those who conduct the Children's Vacation Schools in London--that

remarkable arrangement by which children are damaged in school time and

educated in holidays--are aware that in a short time children of any

class can be taught to "play the game," if only they can be made to see

it from that point of view. So also women can learn to combine, to be

unselfish, to avoid petty deceits even in games, to obey a captain and

to accept the umpire's decision, when they are taught, as we all have

to be taught, that that is playing the game.

These immense virtues of the new departure must by no means be forgotten

in the course of the reaction which is bound to occur, and is indeed

necessary, against the contemporary practice of trying to demonstrate

that boys and girls are substantially identical. He who pleads for the

golden mean is always abused by extremists of both parties, but is

always justified in the long run, and this is a case where the golden

mean is eminently desirable, being indeed vital, which is much more than

golden. Safety is to be found in our recognition of elementary

physiological principles, assuming from the first that though it is not

difficult to turn a girl into something like a boy, it is not desirable;

and especially in attending carefully, in the case of each individual,

to the indications furnished by that characteristic physiological

function, interference with which necessarily imperils womanhood.

The organism is a whole; it reacts not only to physical strain but to

mental strain. There are parts of the world, including a country no less

distinguished as a pioneer of education than Scotland, where serious

mental strain is now being imposed upon girls at this very period of the

dawn of womanhood, when strain of any kind is especially to be deplored.

Utterly ignoring the facts of physiology, the laws and approximate dates

of human development, official regulations demand that at just such ages

as thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen large numbers of girls--and picked

girls--shall devote themselves to the strain of preparing for various

examinations, upon which much depends. Worry combines to work its

effects with those of excessive mental application, excessive use of the

eyes at short distances, and defective open-air amusement. The whole

examination system is of course to be condemned, but most especially

when its details are so devised as to press thus hardly upon girlhood at

this critical and most to be protected period. Many years ago Herbert

Spencer protested that we must acquaint ourselves with the laws of life,

since these underlie all the activities of living beings. The time is

now at hand when we shall discover that education is a problem in

applied biology, and that the so-called educator, whether he works

destruction from some Board of Education or elsewhere, who knows and

cares nothing about the laws of the life of the being with whom he

deals, is simply an ignorant and dangerous quack.

What has been said about the reaction against excess in the physical

education of girls applies very forcibly to excess in their mental

education. We are undoubtedly coming upon a period when more and more

will be heard of the injurious consequences of such ill-timed

preparation for stupid examinations as has been referred to; and there

will be not a few to sigh for the return to the bad old days which a

certain type of mind always calls good. Here, again, we must find the

golden mean, recognizing that the danger lies in excess, and especially

in ill-timed excess. We shall further discover that if we desire a girl

to become a woman, and not an indescribable, we must provide for her a

kind of higher education which shall take into account the object at

which we aim. It will be found that there are womanly concerns, of

profound importance to a girl and therefore to an empire, which demand

no less of the highest mental and moral qualities than any of the

subjects in a man's curriculum, and the pursuit of which in reason does

not compromise womanhood, but only ratifies and empowers it.

_Muscles worth Developing._--When men and women are carefully compared,

it is found that women, muscularly weaker as a whole, are most notably

so as regards the arms, the muscles of respiration, and the muscles of

the back. The muscles of the legs, and especially of the thighs, are

relatively stronger. In these facts we can find some practical guidance.

The muscles of all the limbs may be left comparatively out of account;

whether naturally weak or naturally strong they are of subordinate

importance. On the other hand, it is always worth while to cultivate the

muscles of respiration, as it is always worth while to keep the heart in

good order. Again, the weakness of the muscles of the back, and more

especially in the case of the growing girl, is not a thing to be

accepted as readily as the weakness of the biceps and the forearm

muscles. Various observers find a proportion of between 85 per cent. and

90 per cent. of those suffering from lateral curvature of the spine to

be girls, the great majority of these cases occurring between the ages

of ten and fifteen. Everywhere it is our duty to prevent such cases, and

everywhere physical training will find only too abundant opportunities

for endeavouring to correct them. It may be doubted perhaps whether we

may rightly follow Havelock Ellis in attributing woman's liability to

backache to the relative weakness of the muscles of the back, for we

know how often this symptom depends upon not muscular but internal

causes peculiar to woman. On the other hand, we may certainly follow

Havelock Ellis when he says, regarding this lateral curvature of the

spine, from which so many girls and women suffer: "There can be no doubt

that defective muscular development of the back, occurring at the age of

maximum development, and due to the conventional restraints on exercises

involving the body, and also to the use of stays, which hamper the

freedom of such movements, is here a factor of very great importance."

We shall not here concern ourselves with the details of practice, but

the principle is to be laid down that perhaps second only in importance

to the right development of the heart and the muscles of respiration is

that of the muscles of the back.

Always, however, we are apt to judge by the obvious and to value it

unduly. Nature makes the biceps and the muscles of the forearm naturally

the weakest in woman compared with man, but it is just the bending of

the elbow that makes a good show on a horizontal bar or rope; and so we

devote too much time to the training of these muscles in our girls, with

the results which make such creditable exhibitions at the end of the

session, while we forget the muscles of the back, the right development

of which is far more valuable, but does not lend itself to display.

In this connection it is to be added last, but not least, that special

importance attaches in woman to those muscles which one may perhaps call

the muscles of motherhood. It is common experience amongst physicians to

find the appropriate muscularity defective at childbirth in women the

muscles of whose limbs may have been very highly developed. Thus Dr.

Havelock Ellis, amongst other evidence, quotes that of a physician, who

says: "In regard to this interesting and suggestive question, it does

seem a fact that women who exercise all their muscles persistently meet

with increased difficulties in parturition. It would certainly seem that

excessive development of the muscular system is unfavourable to

maternity. I hear from instructors in physical training, both in the

United States and in England, of excessively tedious and painful

confinements among their fellows--two or three cases in each instance

only, but this within the knowledge of a single individual among his

friends. I have also several such reports from the circus--perhaps

exceptions. I look upon this as a not impossible result of muscular

exertion in women, the development of muscle, muscular attachments, and

bony frame leading to approximation to the male."

In his lectures ten years ago, the distinguished obstetrician, Sir

Halliday Croom, now professor of Midwifery in the University of

Edinburgh, used to criticise cycling on this score, not as regards its

development of the muscles of the lower limbs, but as tending towards

local rigidity unfavourable to childbirth. It may be doubted, perhaps,

whether longer and wider experience of cycling by women warrants this

criticism, but it is probably worth noting.

On the other hand, while exercise of certain muscles may interfere

obscurely or mechanically with motherhood, we are to remember that the

muscles of the abdomen are indeed the accessory muscles of motherhood,

and therefore specially to be considered. According to Mosso of Turin,

it is only in modern times that civilized woman shows the comparative

weakness of these muscles which is indeed commonly to be found. There is

verily no sign of it in the Venus of Milo, as any one can see. That

statue represents very highly developed abdominal muscles in a woman

less notably muscular elsewhere. The muscles lie near the skin, the

disposition of fat being very small, yet the woman is distinctively

maternal in type, and every kind of æsthetic praise that may be showered

upon the statue may be supplemented by the encomiums of the physiologist

and the worshipper of motherhood. It is highly desirable that, in

physical training to-day, attention should be paid to the development of

the abdominal muscles. Holding the abdomen together by means of a corset

may serve its own purpose, but does less than nothing in the crisis of

motherhood. The corset indeed conduces to the atrophy of the most

important of all the voluntary muscles for the most important crisis of

a woman's life. "Some of the slower Spanish dances" are commended for

the development of the abdominal muscles, but one would rather recommend

swimming, the abandonment of the corset, and, if the gymnasium is to be

used, some of the various exercises which serve these muscles, however

little they may serve to exploit the apparatus of the gymnasium when

visitors are invited.

There is no occasion in the present volume to discuss in detail any such

thing as a course of physical exercises, but it is a pleasure, and, for

the English reader, a convenience to direct attention to the Syllabus of

Physical Exercises for Public Elementary Schools, issued by the English

Board of Education in 1909.[7] After nearly forty years of folly, the

dawn is breaking in our schools. It is evident that the Board of

Education has followed the best medical advice. Indeed, now that medical

knowledge is actually represented upon the Board, and represented as it

is, there is no need to go far. The principles which have been laid down

in previous pages are abundantly recognized in this admirable syllabus.

The exercises recommended for the nation's children are based upon the

Swedish system of educational gymnastics. But it is fortunately

recognized that that system requires modification, since "freedom of

movement and a certain degree of exhilaration are essentials of all true

physical education. Hence it has been thought well not only to modify

some of the usual Swedish combinations in order to make the work less

exacting, but to introduce games and dancing steps into many of the

lessons." "The Board desire that all lessons in physical exercises in

public elementary schools should be thoroughly enjoyed by the children."

"Enjoyment is one of the most necessary factors in nearly everything

which concerns the welfare of the body, and if exercise is distasteful

and wearisome, its physical as well as its mental value is greatly

diminished." An interesting paragraph on music recognizes its value in

avoiding fatigue, but underestimates, perhaps, the desirability of

including music for use at later years as well as for infant classes.

The syllabus contains admirably illustrated exercises in detail. They

are earnestly to be commended to the reader who is responsible for

girlhood, and notably to those who are interested in the formation and

conducting of girls' clubs. The syllabus is excellent in the attention

paid to games, in the commendation of skipping and of dancing. The

following quotation well illustrates the spirit of wisdom which is at

last beginning to illuminate our national education:--"The value of

introducing dancing steps into any scheme of physical training as an

additional exercise especially for girls, or even in some cases for

boys, is becoming widely recognized. Dancing, if properly taught, is one

of the most useful means of promoting a graceful carriage, with free,

easy movements, and is far more suited to girls than many of the

exercises and games borrowed from boys. As in other balance exercises,

the nervous system acquires a more perfect control of the muscles, and

in this way a further development of various brain centres is brought

about.... Dancing steps add very greatly to the interest and recreative

effect of the lesson, the movements are less methodical and exact, and

are more natural; if suitably chosen they appeal strongly to the

imagination, and act as a decided mental and physical stimulus, and

exhilarate in a wholesome manner both body and mind."

Plainly, our educators have begun to be educated since 1870.

Of course, there is dancing and dancing. The real thing bears the same

relation to dancing as it is understood in Mayfair, as the music of

Schubert does to that of Sousa. The ideal dancing for girls is such as

that illustrated by the children trained by Miss Isadora Duncan. Some of

these girls were seen for a short time at the Duke of York's Theatre in

London not long ago, and the American reader, rightly proud of Miss

Duncan, should not require to be told what she has achieved. Just as we

are learning the importance of games and play, so that a syllabus issued

by the Board of Education instructs one how to stand when "giving a

back" at leap-frog, so also we shall learn again from Nature that

dancing of the natural and exquisite kind, never to be forgotten or

confused with imitations by any one who has seen Miss Duncan's children,

must be recognized as a great educative measure--educative alike of

mind, body, ear, and eye, and better worth while for any girl of any

rank than volumes of fictitious history concocted by fools concerning

knaves.

_Girls' Clubs._--Allusion has been made to girls' clubs, and one may be

fortunate enough to have some readers who may feel inclined to partake

in the splendid work which may be done by this means. It requires high

qualities and a certain amount of expert knowledge. Much of the latter

can be obtained from the little book recommended above. For the rest, it

is worth while briefly to point out what the girls' club may effect, and

why it is so much needed.

It has been insisted that puberty is a critical age because it means the

dawn of womanhood. It is critical in both sexes, not only for the body

but also for the mind. It is now that the intellect awakes; it is now

that the real formation of character begins. We often talk about spoilt

children at three or four, but any kind of making or marring of

character at such ages can be undone in a few weeks or less--that is, in

so far as it is an effect of training and not of nature that we are

dealing with. The real spoiling or making is at that birth of the adult

which we call puberty. During adolescence the adult is being made, and

everything matters for ever. This is true of physique, of mind, and of

character. The importance of this period is recognized by modern

churches in their rite of Confirmation, and it was recognized by ancient

religions, by Greeks and by Romans. Our national appreciation of it is

expressed by our devotion of vast amounts of money and labour to the

child, until the all-important epoch is reached, when we wash our hands

of it. We educate away, for all we are worth, when what is mainly

required is plenty of good food and open air; and we have done with the

matter when the age for real education arrives. In time to come our

neglect of adolescence in both sexes, more especially in girls, will be

marvelled at, and many of the evils from which we suffer will cease to

exist because the fatal and costly economy of the practical man is

dismissed as a delusion and a sham, and it is perceived that whether for

the saving of life or for the saving of money, adolescence must be cared

for.

Meanwhile, it behoves private people who care about these things to do

what they can. If they rightly influence but ten girls, it was well

worth doing. The girls' club is a very inexpensive mode of social

activity. Practically the only substantial item of expenditure is the

hire of a gymnasium, say for two evenings in a week. The girls' dresses

can be made at home at quite a trivial cost. The primary attraction

would be the gymnasium. It must, of course, contain a piano, not

necessarily one on which Pachmann would play, but a piano nevertheless.

There is also required a pianist, not necessarily a Pachmann. Two girls

are better than one to run such a club. They will not find it difficult

to obtain material to work upon. They must acquire at a Polytechnic, or

perhaps they have acquired themselves at school, some knowledge of how

to conduct the work and play of the gymnasium. It will depend upon the

conductors of the club how far its virtues extend. Much elementary

hygiene may be taught as well as practised, and if it confine itself

only to matters of ventilation, clothing, care of the teeth and feet, it

is abundantly worth while. It is often possible to get medical men or

women to come and talk to the girls, and in the best of these clubs

there will be some more or less conscious and overt preparation in one

way and another for matters no less momentous alike for the individual

and the race than marriage and motherhood.

_Girls' Clothing._--There is little good to be said about much of the

clothing of girls and women. All clothing should of course be loose, on

grounds which have been fully gone into in the previous volume on

personal hygiene. A woman's headgear is perhaps too often the only

article of her dress which conforms to this rule. It is good that the

stimulant effect of air, and air in motion, upon the skin should be as

widely extended as is compatible with sufficient warmth and decency.

Thus most women wear far too many clothes, apart from the question of

tightness. A woman handicaps herself seriously as compared with a man,

in that, while she is much less muscular, her clothes are often so much

heavier. All this applies with great force to girls. The following

quotation from the syllabus referred to above is worth making:--

"_A Suitable Dress for Girls._--A simple dress for girls suitable

for taking physical exercises or games consists of a tunic, a

jersey or blouse, and knickers. The tunic and knickers may be made

of blue serge, and, if a blouse is worn, it should be made of some

washing material.

The tunic, which requires two widths of serge, may be gathered or,

preferably, pleated into a small yoke with straps passing over the

shoulders. The dress easily slips on over the head, and the

shoulder straps are then fastened. It should be worn with a loose

belt or girdle. In no case should any form of stiff corset be used.

The knickers, with their detachable washing linen, should replace

all petticoats. They should not be too ample, and should not be

visible below the tunic. They are warmer than petticoats and allow

greater freedom of movement.

Any plain blouse may be worn with the tunic, or a woollen jersey

may be substituted in cold weather.

With regard to the cost of such a dress, serge may be procured for

1s. 6d. to 2s. per yard. For the tunic some 2 to 2-1/2 yards are

usually required, and for the knickers about 1-1/2 to 2 yards. It

may be found possible in some schools to provide patterns, or to

show girls how to make such articles for themselves. Such a dress,

though primarily designed for physical exercises, is entirely

suitable for ordinary school use.

Though it is, of course, not practicable to introduce this dress

into all Public Elementary Schools, or in the case of all girls,

yet in many schools there are children whose parents are both

willing and able to provide them with appropriate clothing. The

adoption of a dress of this kind, which is at the same time useful

and becoming, tends to encourage that love of neatness and

simplicity which every teacher should endeavour to cultivate among

the girls. And as it allows free scope for all movements of the

body and limbs, it cannot fail to promote healthy physical

development."

IX

THE HIGHER EDUCATION OF WOMEN

In the last chapter brief reference was made to the effects of ill-timed

mental strain. Our principles have already led us to the conclusion that

there are special risks for girls involved in educational strain, and

that is, of course, equally true whatever the curriculum. But that being

granted, it is necessary to draw very special attention to a new

movement in the higher education of women which is based upon the

principle that a woman is not the same as a man; that she has special

interests and duties which require no less knowledge and skill than

those with which men are concerned. A tentative experiment in this

direction has already, we are assured, altered the whole attitude

towards life of those girls who partook in it, and there is no question

that we now see the beginning of a new epoch in the higher education of

women upon properly differentiated lines such as have been utterly

ignored in the past. I refer to the "Special Courses for the Higher

Education of Women in Home Science and Household Economics," which now

form part of the activities of the University of London at King's

College. "The main object of these courses," we are told, "is to

provide a thoroughly scientific education in the principles underlying

the whole organization of 'Home Life,' the conduct of Institutions, and

other spheres of civic and social work in which these principles are

applicable." The lecturers are mainly highly qualified women, and the

courses are extremely thorough and comprehensive. The following are the

subjects which are dealt with: economics and ethics, psychology,

biology, business matters, physiology, bacteriology, chemistry, domestic

arts, sanitary science and hygiene, applied chemistry and physics.[8]

It will be seen that there is no underrating here of the capacities of

women. The courses are not limited merely to cooking and washing, though

these are most carefully gone into. It is a far cry from them to

psychology and ethics or "A Sketch of the Historical Development of the

Household in England." One can imagine the joy with which girls, largely

nourished on the husks which constitute most of the educational

curricula of boys, will turn to a series of lectures on Child

Psychology, that deal with the general course of mental development in

the child, with interest and attention, the processes of learning,

mental fatigue and adolescence. The highest capacities of the mind in

women are not ignored when we find included a course of which the

special text-book is Spencer's "Data of Ethics." One can imagine also

that the course on the elements of general economics, with its study of

wealth and value and price, the laws of production and distribution,

may bring into being a kind of housewife who, whether or not eligible

for Parliament, would certainly be a much more desirable member thereof

than nine-tenths of the prosperous gentlemen who daily record their

opinions there upon matters they know not of. All who care at all for

womanhood or for England must rejoice in the beginnings of this revised

version of higher education for women which, for once in a way, finds

London a pioneer. We must have such courses all over the country. Every

father who can afford it must give his girls the incalculable benefit of

such opportunities. The girl thus educated will glory in her womanhood,

and will help to gain for it its right estimation and position in the

state.

But it is to be pointed out that such courses as these, admirable though

they be, are yet not everything. The influence of our great national

deity, which is Mrs. Grundy, is apparent still. It is not specifically

recognized that the highest destiny of a woman is motherhood, though in

such courses as this motherhood will doubtless be served directly and

indirectly in many ways. There is, nevertheless, required something

more--something indeed no less than conscious, purposeful education for

parenthood. The chief obstacle in the way of this ideal is Anglo-Saxon

prudery, and, perhaps, the reader will not be persuaded that education

for parenthood is our greatest educational need to-day, more especially

for girls, until he or she has been persuaded of the magnitude of the

preventable evils which flow from our present neglect of this matter. In

the following chapter, therefore, one may point out what prudery costs

us at present, and indeed, the reader may then be persuaded that

education for parenthood, or, as it may be called, eugenic education,

is, perhaps, the most important subject that can be discussed to-day in

any book on womanhood.

X

THE PRICE OF PRUDERY

Just after we had succeeded in getting the Notification of Births Act

put upon the Statute Book, the present writer occupied himself in

various parts of the country in the efforts which were necessary to

persuade local authorities to adopt the provisions of that Act.

Addressing a meeting of the clergy of Islington, he endeavoured to trace

back to the beginning the main cause of infant mortality, and

endeavoured to show that that lay in the natural ignorance of the human

mother, about which more must later be said. In the discussion which

followed, an elderly clergyman insisted that the causes had not been

traced far enough back, maternal ignorance being itself permitted in

consequence of our national prudery.

Ever since that day one has come to see more and more clearly that the

criticism was just. Maternal ignorance, as we shall see later, is a

natural fact of human kind, and destroys infant life everywhere, though

prudery be or be not a local phenomenon. But where vast organizations

exist for the remedying of ignorance, prudery indeed is responsible for

the neglect of ignorance on the most important of all subjects. Let it

not be supposed for a moment that in this protest one desires, even for

the highest ends, to impart such knowledge as would involve sullying the

bloom of girlhood. It is not necessary to destroy the charm of innocence

in order to remedy certain kinds of ignorance; nor are prudery and

modesty identical. Whatever prudery may be when analyzed, it seems

perfectly fair to charge it as the substantial cause of the ignorance in

which the young generation grows up, as to matters which vitally concern

its health and that of future generations. Let us now observe in brief

the price of prudery thus arraigned.

There is, first, that large proportion of infant mortality which is due

to maternal ignorance, as we shall see in a subsequent chapter. At

present we may briefly remind ourselves that the nation has had the

young mother at school for many years; much devotion and money have been

spent upon her. Yet it is necessary to pass an Act insuring, if

possible, that when she is confronted with the great business of her

life--which is the care of a baby--within thirty-six hours the fact

shall be made known to some one who, racing for life against time, may

haply reach her soon enough to remedy the ignorance which would

otherwise very likely bury her baby. Prudery has decreed that while at

school she should learn nothing of such matters. For the matter of that

she may even have attended a three-year course in science or technology,

and be a miracle of information on the keeping of accounts, the testing

of drains, and the principles of child psychology, but it has not been

thought suitable to discuss with her the care of a baby. How could any

nice-minded teacher care to put such ideas into a girl's head? Never

having noticed a child with a doll, we have somehow failed to realize

that Nature, her Ancient Mother and ours, is not above putting into her

head, when she can scarcely toddle, the ideas at which we pretend to

blush. Prudery on this topic, and with such consequences, is not much

less than blasphemy against life and the most splendid purposes towards

which the individual, "but a wave of the wild sea," can be consecrated.

This question of the care of babies offers us much less excuse for its

neglect than do questions concerned with the circumstances antecedent to

the babies' appearance. Yet we are blameworthy, and disastrously so,

here also. Prudery here insists that boys and girls shall be left to

learn anyhow. That is not what it says, but that is what it does. It

feebly supposes not merely that ignorance and innocence are identical,

but that, failing the parent, the doctor, the teacher, and the

clergyman--and probably all these do fail--ignorance will remain

ignorant. There are others, however, who always lie in wait, whether by

word of mouth or the printed word, and since youth will in any case

learn--except in the case of a few rare and pure souls--we have to ask

ourselves whether we prefer that these matters shall be associated in

its mind with the cad round the corner or the groom or the chauffeur who

instructs the boy, the domestic servant who instructs the girl, and with

all those notions of guilty secrecy and of misplaced levity which are

entailed; or with the idea that it is right and wise to understand

these matters in due measure because their concerns are the greatest in

human life.

After puberty, and during early adolescence, when a certain amount of

knowledge has been acquired, we leave youth free to learn lies from

advertisements, carefully calculated to foster the tendency to

hypochondria, which is often associated with such matters. Of this,

however, no more need now be said, since it scarcely concerns the girl.

It is the ignorance conditioned by prudery that is responsible later on

for many criminal marriages; contracted, it may be, with the blind

blessing of Church and State, which, however, the laws of heredity and

infection rudely ignore. Parents cannot bring themselves to inquire into

matters which profoundly concern the welfare of the daughter for whom

they propose to make what appears to be a good marriage. They desire, of

course, that her children shall be healthy and whole-minded; they do not

desire that marriage should be for her the beginning of disease, from

the disastrous effects of which she may never recover. But these are

delicate matters, and prudery forbids that they should be inquired into;

yet every father who permits his daughter to marry without having

satisfied himself on these points is guilty, at the least, of grave

delinquency of duty, and may, in effect, be conniving at disasters and

desolations of which he will not live to see the end.

Young people often grow fond of each other and become engaged, and then,

if the engagement be prolonged--as all engagements ought to be, as a

general rule--they may find that, after all, they do not wish to marry.

Yet the girl's mother, an imprudent prude, may often in this and other

cases do her utmost to bring the marriage about, not because she is

convinced that it means her daughter's highest welfare and happiness,

but because prudery dictates that her daughter must marry the man with

whom she has been so frequently seen; hence very likely lifelong

unhappiness, and worse.

Society, from the highest to the lowest of its strata, is afflicted with

certain forms of understood and eminently preventable disease, about

which not a word has been spoken in Parliament for twenty years, and any

public mention of which by mouth or pen involves serious risk of various

kinds. Here it is perhaps not necessary for us to consider the case of

the outcast, and of the diseases with which, poor creature, she is first

infected, and which she then distributes into our homes. Our present

concern is simply to point out that prudery, again, is largely

responsible for the continuance of these evils at a time when we have so

much precise knowledge regarding their nature and the possibility of

their prevention. Medical science cannot make distinctions between one

disease and another, nor between one sin and another, as prudery does.

Prudery says that such and such is vice, that its consequences in the

form of disease are the penalties imposed by its abominable god upon the

guilty and the innocent, the living and the unborn alike, and that

therefore our ordinary attitude towards disease cannot here be

maintained. Physiological science, however, knowing what it knows

regarding food and alcohol, and air and exercise and diet, can readily

demonstrate that the gout from which Mrs. Grundy suffers is also a

penalty for sin; none the less because it is not so hideously

disproportionate, in its measure and in its incidence, to the gravity of

the offence. These moral distinctions between one disease and another

have little or no meaning for medical science, and are more often than

not immoral.

It would be none too easy to show that the medical profession in any

country has yet used its tremendous power in this direction.

Professions, of course, do not move as a whole, and we must not expect

the universal laws of institutions to find an exception here. But though

they do not move, they can be moved. It is when the public has been

educated in the elements of these matters, and has been taught to see

what the consequences of prudery are, that the necessary forces will be

brought into action. Meanwhile, what we call the social evil is almost

entirely left to the efforts made in Rescue Homes and the like. Despite

the judgment of a popular novelist and playwright, it is much more than

doubtful whether Rescue Homes--the only method which Mrs. Grundy will

tolerate--are the best way of dealing with this matter, even if the

people who worked in them had the right kind of outlook upon the matter,

and even if their numbers were indefinitely multiplied. Every one who

has devoted a moment's thought to the matter knows perfectly well that

this is merely beginning at the end, and therefore all but futile. I

mention the matter here to make the point that the one measure which

prudery permits--so that indeed it may even be mentioned upon our highly

moral stage, and passed by the censor, who would probably be hurried

into eternity if M. Brieux's _Les Avariés_ were submitted to him, and

who found "Mrs. Warren's Profession" intolerable--is just the most

useless, ill-devised, and literally preposterous with which this

tremendous problem can be mocked.

This leads us to another point. It is that the means of our education,

other than the schools, are also prejudiced by prudery. Upon the stage

there is permitted almost any indecency of word, or innuendo, or

gesture, or situation, provided only that the treatment be not serious.

Almost anything is tolerable if it be frivolously dealt with, but so

soon as these intensely serious matters are dealt with seriously,

prudery protests. The consequence is that a great educative influence,

like the theatre, where a few playwrights like M. Brieux, and Mr.

Bernard Shaw, and Mr. Granville Barker, and Mr. John Galsworthy, might

effect the greatest things, is relegated by Mrs. Grundy to the plays

produced by Mr. George Edwardes and other earnest upholders of the

censorship.

Publishers also, while accepting novels which would have staggered the

Restoration Dramatists, can scarcely be found, even with great labour,

for the publication of books dealing with the sex question from the most

responsible medical or social standpoints.

It is just because public opinion is so potent, and, like all other

powers, so potent either for good or for evil, that its present

disastrous workings are the more deplorable. It is not unimaginable

that prudery might undergo a sort of transmutation. As I have said

before, we might make a eugenist of Mrs. Grundy, so that she might be as

much affronted by a criminal marriage as she is now by the spectacle of

a healthy and well-developed baby appearing unduly soon after its

parents' marriage. The power is there, and it means well, though it does

disastrously ill. Public opinion ought to be decided upon these matters;

it ought to be powerful and effective. We shall never come out into the

daylight until it is; we shall not be saved by laws, nor by medical

knowledge, nor by the admonitions of the Churches. Our salvation lies

only in a healthy public opinion, not less effective and not more

well-meaning than public opinion is at present, but informed where it is

now ignorant, and profoundly impressed with the importance of realities

as it now is with the importance of appearances.

So much having been said, what can one suggest in the direction of

remedy? First, surely it is something that we merely recognize the price

of prudery. Personally, I find that it has made all the difference to my

calculations to have had the thing pointed out by the clerical critic

whose eye these words may possibly meet. It is something to recognize in

prudery an enemy that must be attacked, and to realize the measure of

its enmity. In the light of some little experience, perhaps a few

suggestions may be made to those who would in any way join in the

campaign for the education and transmutation of public opinion on these

matters.

First, we must compose ourselves with fundamental seriousness--with

that absolute gravity which imperils the publication of a book and

entirely prohibits the production of a play on such matters. There is

something in human nature beyond my explaining which leads towards

jesting in these directions. An instinct, I know, is an instinct; of

which a main character is that its exercise shall be independent of any

knowledge as to its purpose. We eat because we like eating, rather than

because we have reckoned that so many calories are required for a body

of such and such a weight, in such and such conditions of temperature

and pressure. It is not natural, so to say, just because man is in a

sense rather more than natural, that we should be provident and serious,

self-conscious, and philosophic, in dealing with our fundamental

instincts. But it is necessary, if we are to be human: and only in so

far as, "looking before and after," we transcend the usual conditions of

instinct, are we human at all.

The special risk run by those who would deal with these matters

seriously--or rather one of the risks--is that they will be suspected,

and may indeed be guilty, of a tendency to priggishness and cant. Youth

is very likely not far wrong in suspecting those who would discuss these

matters, for youth has too often been told that they are of the earth

earthy, that these are the low parts of our nature which we must learn

to despise and trample on, and youth knows in its heart that whatever

else may or may not be cant, this certainly is. So any one who proposes

to speak gravely on the subject is a suspect.

Meetings confined to persons of one sex offer excellent opportunities.

Much can be done, if the suspicion of cant be avoided, by men addressing

the meetings of men only which gather in many churches on Sunday

afternoons, and which have a healthy interest in the life of this world

and of this world to come, as well as in matters less immediate. It

seems to me that women doctors ought to be able to do excellent work in

addressing meetings of girls and women, provided always that the speaker

be genuinely a woman, rightly aware of the supremacy of motherhood.

Most of us know that it is possible to read a medical work on sex, say

in French, without any offence to the æsthetic sense, though a

translation into one's native tongue is scarcely tolerable. This

contrasted influence of different names for the same thing is another of

those problems in the psychology of prudery which I do not undertake to

analyze, but which must be recognized by the practical enemy of prudery.

It is unquestionably possible to address a mixed audience, large or

small, of any social status, on these matters without offence and to

good purpose. But certain terms must be avoided and synonyms used

instead. There are at least three special cases, the recognition of

which may make the practical difference between shocking an audience and

producing the effect one desires.

Reproduction is a good word from every point of view, but its

associations are purely physiological, and it is better to employ a word

which renders the use of the other superfluous and which has a special

virtue of its own. This is the term parenthood, a hybrid no doubt, but

not perhaps much the worse for that. One may notice a teacher of

zoology, say, accustomed to address medical students, offend an audience

by the use of the word reproduction, where parenthood would have served

his turn. It has a more human sound--though there is some sub-human

parenthood which puts much of ours to shame--and the fact that it is

less obviously physiological is a virtue, for human parenthood is only

half physiological, being made of two complementary and equally

essential factors for its perfection--the one physical and the other

psychical. Thus it is possible to speak of physical parenthood and of

psychical parenthood, and thus not only to avoid the term reproduction,

but to get better value out of its substitutes. One may be able to show,

perhaps, that in the case of other synonyms also a hunt for a term that

shall save the face of prudery may be more than justified by the

recovery of one which has a richer content. Terms are really very good

servants, if they are good terms and we retain our mastery of them. Let

any one without any previous practice start to write or speak on "human

reproduction," and on "human parenthood, physical and psychical," and he

will find that, though naming often saves a lot of thinking, as George

Meredith said, wise naming may be of great service to thought.

In these matters there is to be faced the fact of pregnancy. Here,

again, is a good word, as every one knows who has felt its force or that

of the corresponding adjective when judiciously used in the

metaphorical sense. The present writer's rule, when speaking, is to use

these terms only in their metaphorical sense, and to employ another term

for the literal sense. I should be personally indebted to any reader who

can inform me as to the first employment of the admirable phrase, "the

expectant mother." The name of its inventor should be remembered. In any

audience whatever--perhaps almost including an audience of children, but

certainly in any adult audience, whether mixed or not, medical or

fashionable, serious or sham serious--it is possible to speak with

perfect freedom on many aspects of pregnancy, as for instance the use of

alcohol, exposure to lead poisoning, the due protection at such a

period, by simply using the phrase "the expectant mother," with all its

pregnancy of beautiful suggestion. Here, again, our success depends upon

recognizing the psychical factor in that which to the vulgar eye is

purely physiological--not that there is anything vulgar about physiology

except to the vulgar eye.

For myself, the phrase "the expectant mother" is much more than useful,

though in speaking it has made all the difference scores of times. It is

beautiful because it suggests the ideal of every pregnancy--that the

expectant mother shall indeed _expect_, look forward to the life which

is to be. Her motto in the ideal world or even in the world at the

foundations of which we are painfully working, will be those words of

the Nicene creed which the very term must recall to the mind--_Expecto

resurrectionem mortuorum et vitam venturi sæculi_.

Let any one who fancies that these pre-occupations with mere language

are trivial or misplaced here take the opportunity of addressing two

drawing-rooms under similar conditions, on some such subject as the care

of pregnancy from the national point of view. Let him in the one case

speak of the pregnant woman, and so forth, and in the other of the

expectant mother. He will be singularly insensitive to his audience if

he does not discover that sometimes a rose by any other name is somehow

the less a rose. The more fools we perhaps, but there it is, and in the

most important of all contemporary propaganda, which is that of the

re-establishment of parenthood in that place of supreme honour which is

its due, even such "literary" debates as these are not out of place.

Sex is a great and wonderful thing. The further down we go in the scale

of life, whether animal or vegetable, the more do we perceive the

importance of the evolution of sex. The correctly formed adjective from

this word is sexual, but the term is practically taboo with Mrs. Grundy.

Only with caution and anxiety, indeed, may one venture before a lay

audience to use Darwin's phrase, "sexual selection." The fact is utterly

absurd, but there it is. One of the devices for avoiding its

consequences is the use of sex itself as an adjective, as when we speak

of sex problems; but the special importance of this case is in regard to

the sexual instinct, or, if the term offends the reader, let us say the

sex instinct. Here prudery is greatly concerned, and our silence here

involves much of the price of prudery. Now since the word sexual has

become sinister, we cannot speak to the growing boy or girl about the

sexual instinct, but we may do much better.

For what is this sexual instinct? True, it manifests itself in

connection with the fact of sex, but essentially that is only because

sex is a condition of human reproduction or parenthood. It is this with

which the sexual instinct is really concerned, and perhaps we shall

never learn to look upon it rightly or deal with it rightly until we

indeed perceive what the business of this instinct is, and regard as

somewhat less than worthy of mankind any other attitude towards it. Of

course there are men who live to eat, yet the instincts concerned with

eating exist not for the titillation of the palate but for the

sustenance of life; and, likewise, though there are those who live to

gratify this instinct, it exists not for sensory gratification, but for

the life of this world to come. Can we not find a term which shall

express this truth, shall be inoffensive and so doubly suitable for the

purposes of our cause?

The term reproductive instinct is often employed. It is vastly superior

to sexual instinct, because it does refer to that for which the instinct

exists; but it hints at reproduction, and though Mrs. Grundy can

tolerate the idea of parenthood, reproduction she cannot away with. We

cannot speak of it as the parental instinct, because that term is

already in employment to express the best thing and the source of all

other good things in us. Further, the sexual instinct and the parental

instinct are quite distinct, and it would be disastrous to run the

possibility of confusing them--one the source of all the good, and the

other the source of much of the evil, though the necessary condition of

all the good and evil, in the world.

For some years past, in writing and speaking, I have employed and

counselled the employment of the term "the racial instinct." This seems

to meet all the needs. It avoids the tabooed adjective, and if it fails

to allude at all to the fact of sex, who needs reminding thereof? It is

formed from the term race, which prudery permits, and it expresses once

and for all that for which the instinct exists--not the individual at

all, but the race which is to come after him. Doubtless its satisfaction

may be satisfactory for him or her, but that does not testify to

Nature's interest in individuals, but rather to her skill in insuring

that her supreme concern shall not be ignored, even by those who least

consciously concern themselves with it.

These are perhaps the three most important instances of the verbal, or

perhaps more than verbal, issues that arise in the fight with prudery.

One has tried to show that they are not really in the nature of

concessions to Mrs. Grundy, but that the terms commended are in point of

fact of more intrinsic worth than those to which she objects. Other

instances will occur to the reader, especially if he or she becomes in

any way a soldier in this war, whether publicly or as a parent

instructing children, or on any other of the many fields where the fight

rages.

It is not the purpose of the present chapter to deal with that which

must be said, notwithstanding prudery, and in order that the price of

prudery shall no longer be paid. But one final principle may be laid

down which is indeed perhaps merely an expression of the spirit

underlying the foregoing remarks upon our terminology. It is that we are

to fly our flag high. We may consult Mrs. Grundy's prejudices if we find

that in doing so we may directly serve our own thinking, and therefore

our cause. This is very different from any kind of apologizing to her.

All such I utterly deplore. We must not begin by granting Mrs. Grundy's

case in any degree. Somewhere in that chaos of prejudices which she

calls her mind, she nourishes the notion, common to all the false forms

of religion, ancient or modern, that there is something about sex and

parenthood which is inherently base and unclean. The origin of this

notion is of interest, and the anthropologists have devoted much

attention to it. It is to be found intermingled with a by no means

contemptible hygiene in the Mosaic legislation, is to be traced in the

beliefs and customs of extant primitive peoples, and has formed and

forms an element in most religions. But it is not really pertinent to

our present discussion to weigh the good and evil consequences of this

belief. Without following the modern fashion, prevalent in some

surprising quarters, of ecstatically exaggerating the practical value of

false beliefs in past and present times, we may admit that the cause of

morality in the humblest sense of that term may sometimes have been

served by the religious condemnation of all these matters as unclean,

and of parenthood as, at the best, a second best.

But for our own day and days yet unborn this notion of sex and its

consequences as unclean or the worser part is to be condemned as not

merely a lie and a palpably blasphemous one, grossly irreligious on the

face of it, but as a pernicious lie, and to be so recognized even by

those who most joyfully cherish evidence of the practical value of lies.

Whatever may have been the case in the past or among present peoples in

other states of culture than our own, no impartial person can question

that during the Christian Era what may be called the Pauline or ascetic

attitude on this matter has been disastrous; and that if the present

forms of religion are not completely to outlive their usefulness, it is

high time to restore mother and child worship to the honour which it

held in the religion of Ancient Egypt and in many another. If the mother

and child worship which is to be found in the more modern religions,

such as Christianity, is to be worth anything to the coming world it

must cease to have reference to one mother and one child only; it must

hail every mother everywhere as a Madonna, and every child as in some

measure deity incarnate. By no Church will such teaching be questioned

to-day; but if it be granted the Churches must cease to uphold those

conceptions of the superiority of celibacy and virginity which, besides

involving grossly materialistic conceptions of those states, are

palpably incompatible with that worship of parenthood to which the

Churches must and shall now be made to return.

All this will involve many a shock to prudery; to take only the instance

of what we call illegitimate motherhood, our eyes askance must learn

that there are other legitimacies and illegitimacies than those which

depend upon the little laws of men, and that if our doctrine of the

worth of parenthood be a right one it is our business in every such case

to say, "Here also, then, in so far as it lies in our power, we must

make motherhood as good and perfect as may be."

These principles also will lead us to understand how differently, were

we wise, we should look upon the outward appearances of expectant

motherhood. In his masterpiece, Forel--of all living thinkers the most

valuable--has a passage with which Mrs. Grundy may here be challenged.

It is too simple to need translating from the author's own French:[9]--

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