"La fausse honte qu'out les femmes de laisser voir leur grossesse

et tout ce qui a rapport à l'accouchement, les plaisanteries dont

on use souvent à l'égard des femmes enceintes, sont un triste signe

de la dégénérescence et même de la corruption de notre civilization

raffinée. Les femmes enceintes ne devraient pas ce cacher, ni

jamais avoir honte de porter un enfant dans leur ventre; elles

devraient au contraire en être fières. Pareille fierté serait

certes bien plus justifiée que celle des beaux officiers paradant

sous leur uniforme. Les signes extérieurs de la formation de

l'humanité font plus d'honneur à leurs porteurs que les symboles de

sa destruction. Que les femmes s'imprègnent de plus en plus de

cette profonde vérité! Elles cesseront alors de cacher leur

grossesse et d'en avoir honte. Conscientes de la grandeur de leur

tâche sexuelle et sociale, elles tiendront haut l'étendard de notre

descendance, qui est celui de la véritable vie à venir de l'homme,

tout en combattant pour l'émancipation de leur sexe."

This passage recalls one of Ruskin's, which is to be found in "Unto This

Last":--

"Nearly all labour may be shortly divided into positive and

negative labour--positive, that which produces life; negative, that

which produces death; the most directly negative labour being

murder, and the most directly positive the bearing and rearing of

children; so that in the precise degree in which murder is hateful

on the negative side of idleness, in that exact degree

child-rearing is admirable, on the positive side of idleness."

Here is the right comment upon the swaggering display of the means of

death and the hiding as if shameful of the signs of life to come. What

has Mrs. Grundy to say to this? Will she consider the propriety of

urging in future that it is murder and the means of murder, and the

organized forces of capital and politics making for murder, that must

not be mentioned before children, and must be hidden as shameful from

the eyes of men; and while a woman may still glory in her hair,

according to that spiritual precept of St. Paul: "But if a woman have

long hair it is a glory to her; for her hair is given her for a

covering," perhaps she may be permitted even to glory in her motherhood,

contemptible as such a notion would doubtless have seemed to the Apostle

of the Gentiles.

XI

EDUCATION FOR MOTHERHOOD

It is our first principle in this discussion that the individual exists

for parenthood, being a natural invention for that purpose and no other.

It has been shown further that this is more pre-eminently true of woman

than of man, she being the more essential--if such a phrase can be

used--for the continuance of the race. If these principles are valid

they must indeed determine our course in the education of girls. Some

incidental reference has already been made to this subject, but the

matter must be more carefully gone into here. We have seen that there

are right and wrong ways of conducting the physical training of girls,

according as whether we are aiming at muscularity or motherhood. We have

seen also that there is a thing called the higher education of women,

apparently laudable and desirable in itself, which may yet have

disastrous consequences for the individual and the race.

In a book devoted to womanhood, and written at the end of the first

decade of the twentieth century, the reader might well expect that what

we call the higher education of women would be a subject treated at

great length and with great respect. Such a reader, turning to the

chapter that professedly deals with the subject, might well be offended

by its brevity. It might be asked whether the writer was really aware of

the importance of the subject--of its remarkable history, its extremely

rapid growth, and its conspicuous success (in proving that women can be

men if they please--but this is my comment, not the reader's). Nor can

any one question that the so-called higher education of women is a very

large and increasingly large fact in the history of womanhood during the

last half century in the countries which lead the world--whither it were

perhaps not too curious to consider. Further, this kind of education

does in fact achieve what it aims at. Women are capable of profiting by

the opportunities which it offers, as we say. This is itself a deeply

interesting fact in natural history, refuting as it does the assertions

of those who declared and still declare that women are incapable of

"higher education," except in rare instances. It is important to know

that women can become very good equivalents of men, if they please.

Further, this higher education of women--and we may be content to accept

the adjective without qualification, since it is after all only a

comparative, and leaves us free to employ the superlative--may be and

often is of very real value in certain cases and because of certain

local conditions, such as the great numerical inequality of the sexes in

nearly all civilized countries. It is valuable for that proportion of

women, whatever it be, who, through some throw of the physiological

dice, seem to be without the distinctive factor for psychical

womanhood, the existence of which one has tentatively ventured to

assume. These individuals, like all others, are entitled to the fullest

and freest development of their lives, and it is well that there shall

be open to them, as to the brothers they so closely resemble,

opportunities for intellectual satisfaction and self-development.

Therefore, surely, by far the most satisfactory function of higher

education for women is that which it discharges in reference to these

women. Their destiny being determined by their nature, and irrevocable

by nurture, it is well that, though we cannot regard it as the highest,

we should make the utmost of it by means of the appropriate education.

Only because sometimes we must put up with second bests can we approve

of higher education for women other than those of the anomalous

semi-feminine type to which we have referred. At present we must accept

it as an unfortunate necessity imposed upon us by economic conditions.

So long as society is based economically, or rather uneconomically, upon

the disastrous principles which so constantly mean the sacrifice of the

future to the present, so long, I suppose, will it be impossible that

every fully feminine woman shall find a livelihood without some

sacrifice of her womanhood. This is a subject to which we must return in

a later chapter. Meanwhile it is referred to only because its

consideration shows us some sort of excuse, if not warrant, for the

higher education of woman, even though in the process of thus endowing

her with economic independence, we disendow her of her distinctive

womanhood, or at the very least imperil it; even though, more serious

still, we deprive the race of her services as physical and psychical

mother.

We have seen that there is just afoot a new tendency in the higher

education of women, and it is indeed a privilege to be able to do

anything in the way of directing public attention to this new trend. In

reference thereto, it was hinted that though this newer form of higher

education for woman is a great advance upon the old, and is so just

because it implies some recognition of woman's place in the world, yet

for one reason or another it falls short of what this present student of

womanhood, at any rate, demands. As has been hinted further, probably

those responsible for the new trend are by no means unaware that, though

their line is nearer to the right one, the direct line to the "happy

isles" has not quite been taken. But great is Mrs. Grundy of the

English, and those who devised the new scheme--one is willing to hazard

the guess--had to be content with an approximation to what they knew to

be the ideal. That is why we devoted the last chapter to the question of

prudery, inserting that between a discussion of the "higher education"

of women and the present discussion, which is concerned with the

_highest education_ of women.

Words are only symbols, but, like other symbols, they are capable of

assuming much empire over the mind. Man, indeed, as Stevenson said,

lives principally by catchwords, and though woman, beside a cot, is less

likely to be caught blowing bubbles and clutching at them, she also is

in some degree at the mercy of words. The higher education of women is

a good phrase. It appeals, just because of the fine word higher, to

those who wish women well, and to those who are not satisfied that woman

should remain for ever a domestic drudge. The phrase has had a long run,

so to say, but I propose that henceforth we should set it to compete

with another--the highest education of women. Whether this phrase will

ever gain the vogue of the other even a biased and admiring father may

well question. But if there is anything certain, having the whole weight

of Nature behind it, and only the transient aberrations of men opposed

thereto, it is that what I call the highest education of women will be

and will remain the most central and capital of society's functions,

when what is now called the higher education of women has gone its

appointed way with nine-tenths of all present-day education, and exists

only in the memory of historians who seek to interpret the fantastic

vagaries of the bad old days.

Perhaps it is well that we should begin by freeing the word education

from the incrustations of mortal nonsense that have very nearly obscured

its vitality altogether. Before we can educate for motherhood, we must

know what education is, and what it is not. We must have a definition of

it and its object; in general as well as in this particular case,

otherwise we shall certainly go wrong. Perhaps it may here be permitted

to quote a paragraph from a lecture on "The Child and the State," in

which some few years ago I attempted to express the first principles of

this matter:--

"Now, as a student of biology, I will venture to propose a definition

of education which is new, so far as I know, and which I hope and

believe to be true and important. Comprehensively, so as to include

everything that must be included, and yet without undue vagueness, I

would define education as _the provision of an environment_. We may

amplify this proposition, and say that it is the provision of a fit

environment for the young and foolish by the elderly and wise. It has

really scarcely anything in the world to do with my trying to make you

pay for the teaching to my children of dogmas which I believe, and you

deny. It neither begins nor ends with the three R's; and it does not

isolate, from that whole which we call a human being, the one attribute

which may be defined as the intellectual faculty. It is the provision of

an environment, physical, mental, and moral, for the whole child,

physical, mental, and moral. That is my _definition_ of education. Now,

what are we to say of the _object_ of education? In providing the

environment--from its mother's milk to moral maxims--for our child, what

do we seek? Some may say, to make him a worthy citizen, to make him able

to support himself; some may say, to make him fit to bear arms for his

king and country; but I will give you the object of education as defined

by the author of the most profound and wisest treatise which has ever

been written upon the subject--Plato, Locke, and Milton not forgotten.

'To prepare us for complete living,' says Herbert Spencer, 'is the

function which education has to discharge.' The great thing needed for

us to learn is how to live, how rightly to rule conduct in all

directions under all circumstances; and it is to that end that we must

direct ourselves in providing an environment for the child. _Education

is the provision of an environment, the function of which is to prepare

for complete living._"

Perhaps the only necessary qualification of the foregoing is that,

though it refers specially to the child, yet the need of education does

not end with childhood, becoming indeed pre-eminent when childhood ends.

So we may apply what has been said in the case of the girl, and we shall

find it a sure guide to the highest education of women.

First, education being the provision of an environment in the widest

sense of that very wide word, always misused when it is used less

widely, we must be sure that in our scheme we avoid the errors of past

or passing schemes which concern themselves only with some aspect of the

environment, and so in effect prepare for something much less than

complete living. It is not sufficient to provide an environment which

regards the girl as simply a muscular machine, as is the tendency, if

not actually the case, in some of the "best" girls' schools to-day; it

is not sufficient to provide an environment which looks upon the girl as

merely an intellectual machine, as in the higher education of women; it

is not sufficient to provide an environment which looks upon the girl as

a sideboard ornament, in Ruskin's phrase, such as was provided in the

earlier Victorian days. In all these cases we are providing only part of

the environment, and providing it in excess. None of them, therefore,

satisfies our definition of education, which conceives of environment

as the sum-total of all the influences to which the whole organism is

subjected--influences dietetic, dogmatic, material, maternal, and all

other.[10]

Who will question that, according to this conception of education, such

a thing as the higher education of women must be condemned as

inadequate? No more than a man is woman a mere intellect incarnate. Her

emotional nature is all-important; it is indeed the highest thing in the

Universe so far as we know. The scheme of education which ignores its

existence, and much more than fails to provide the best environment for

it, is condemnable. But the scheme of education which derides and

despises the emotional nature of woman, looking upon it as a weakness

and seeking to suppress it, is damnable, and has led to the

damnation--or loss, if the reader prefers the English term--of this most

precious of all precious things in countless cases.

The only right education of women must be that which rightly provides

the whole environment. The simpler our conception of woman, the more we

underrate her complexity and the manifoldness of her needs, the more

certainly shall we repeat in one form or another the errors of our

predecessors.

Complete living is a great phrase; perhaps not for a lizard or a

mushroom, but assuredly for men and women. Perhaps it involves more for

women even than for men; indeed it must do so if we are to adhere to our

conception of women as more complex than men, having all the

possibilities of men in less or greater measure, and also certain

supreme possibilities of their own. Whatever complete living may mean

for men, it cannot mean for women anything less than all that is implied

in Wordsworth's great line--

"Wisdom doth live with children round her knees."

That line was written in reference to the unwisdom of a man, Napoleon,

the greatest murderer in recorded time, and I believe it to be true of

men, but it is pre-eminently true of women. There needs no excuse for

quoting from Herbert Spencer, since we have already accepted his

definition of the subject of education, a notable passage which is

perhaps at the present time the most needed of all the wisdom with which

that great thinker's book on education is filled:--

"The greatest defect in our programmes of education is entirely

overlooked. While much is being done in the detailed improvement of

our systems in respect both of matter and manner, the most pressing

desideratum, to prepare the young for the duties of life, is

tacitly admitted to be the end which parents and schoolmasters

should have in view; and, happily, the value of the things taught,

and the goodness of the methods followed in teaching them, are now

ostensibly judged by their fitness to this end. The propriety of

substituting for an exclusively classical training, a training in

which the modern languages shall have a share, is argued on this

ground. The necessity of increasing the amount of science is urged

for like reasons. But though some care is taken to fit youth of

both sexes for society and citizenship, no care whatever is taken

to fit them for the position of parents. While it is seen that, for

the purpose of gaining a livelihood, an elaborate preparation is

needed, it appears to be thought that for the bringing up of

children no preparation whatever is needed. While many years are

spent by a boy in gaining knowledge of which the chief value is

that it constitutes the education of a gentleman; and while many

years are spent by a girl in those decorative acquirements which

fit her for evening parties, not an hour is spent by either in

preparation for that gravest of all responsibilities--the

management of a family. Is it that the discharge of it is but a

remote contingency? On the contrary, it is sure to devolve on nine

out of ten. Is it that the discharge of it is easy? Certainly not;

of all functions which the adult has to fulfil, this is the most

difficult. Is it that each may be trusted by self-instruction to

fit himself, or herself, for the office of parent? No; not only is

the need for such self-instruction unrecognized, but the complexity

of the subject renders it the one of all others in which

self-instruction is least likely to succeed."

If we were wise enough, therefore, we should recognize all education, in

the great sense of that word, to be _as for parenthood_. That ideal will

yet be recognized and followed for both sexes, as it has for long been

followed, consciously as well as unconsciously, by that astonishing race

which has survived all its oppressors, and is in the van of civilization

to-day as it was when it produced the Mosaic legislation. The time is

not yet when one could accept with a light heart an invitation to

lecture on fatherhood to the boys at Eton. Boys to-day are taught by

each other, and by those who give them what they call "smut jaws," that

what exists for fatherhood, and thus for the whole destiny of mankind,

is "smut." When such blasphemies pass for the best pedagogic wisdom, to

preach parenthood as the goal of all worthy education is to run the risk

of being looked upon as ridiculous. But the time will come when the

hideous Empire-wrecking Imperialisms of the present are forgotten, and

when we have a new Patriotism--which suggests, first and foremost, as

that word well may, the duty of fatherhood; and then, perhaps, "smut

jaws" will not be the phrase at Eton for discussion of those instincts

which determine the future of mankind.

But girls are our present concern, and we may indeed hope that, though

the day is still far when the motto of Eton will be education as for

fatherhood, yet the ideal of education as for motherhood may yet triumph

wherever girls are taught within even a few years to come. On all sides

to-day we see the aberrations of womanhood in a hundred forms, and the

consequences thereof. Wrong education is partly, beyond a doubt, to be

indicted for this state of things, and the right direction is so clearly

indicated by nature and by the deepest intuitions of both sexes that we

cannot much longer delay to take it.

Perhaps the reader will have patience whilst for a little we discuss the

facts upon which right education for motherhood must be based. Some may

suppose that by education for womanhood is meant simply one form or

other of instruction; say, for instance, in the certainly important

matter of infant feeding. At present, however, I am not thinking of

instruction at all, but of education--the leading forth, that is to say,

in right proportion and in right direction of the natural constituents

of the girl. If we are to be right in our methods we must have some

clear understanding of what those constituents are, and we must

therefore address ourselves now to getting, if possible, clear and

accurate notions of the material with which we have to deal; in other

words, we must discuss the psychology of parenthood. We shall perhaps

realize then that though the instruction of mothers in being is very

necessary and very important, that comes in at the end of our duty, and

that we shall never achieve what we might achieve unless we begin at the

beginning.

XII

THE MATERNAL INSTINCT

The deeds of men and women proceed from certain radical elements of

their nature, some evidently noble, others, when looked at askew,

apparently ignoble. These elements are classed as instinctive. We are

less intelligent than we think. Reason may occupy the throne, but the

foundations upon which that throne is based are not of her making. To

change the image, reason is the pilot, not the gale or the engine. She

does not determine the goal, but only the course to that goal. We are

what our nature makes us; our likes and our dislikes determine our acts,

and we are guided to our self-determined ends by means of our

intelligence. More often, indeed, we use our intelligence merely to

justify to ourselves the likes and dislikes, the action and the

inaction, which our instinctive tendencies have determined.

Many of our natural instincts, impulses, and emotions bear only remotely

upon our present inquiry; as, for instance, the instinct of flight and

the emotion of fear, the instinct of curiosity and the emotion of

wonder, the instinct of pugnacity and the emotion of anger. Certain

others, however, are not merely radical and permanent parts of our

nature, but determine human existence, the greater part of its failures

and successes, its folly and wisdom, its history and its destiny. Two of

these--the parental and racial instincts--we must carefully consider

here, and also, very briefly, a supposed third, the filial instinct. I

am inclined to question whether such a specific entity as the filial

instinct exists at all; it is rather, I believe, a product, by

transmutation, of the parental instinct which, in its various forms and

potencies and through the tender emotion which is its counterpart in the

affective realm of our natures, is the noblest, finest, and most

promising ingredient of our constitution.

_Instinct and Emotion._--We must be sure, in the first place, that we

have a sound idea of what we mean by the word "instinct." It is absurd,

for instance, to speak of "acquiring a political instinct"--or any

other. That is the most erroneous possible use of the word. An instinct

is eminently something which cannot be "acquired"; it is native if

anything is native; as native as the nose or the backbone. Instincts may

be developed or repressed; it is the great mark of man that in him they

may even be transmuted--but _acquired_ never.

When we come to examine the laws of activity we find that, on the

application of certain kinds of stimulus, there are certain very

definite responses, and these we call instinctive. If the arm or the leg

of a sleeper be stroked or touched, or a cold breath of air blows

thereon, it will be withdrawn, and such withdrawal is what we call a

reflex action. Now, an instinctive action, as Herbert Spencer saw long

ago, is a "complex reflex action." It differs from a simple reflex, a

mere twitch, such as winking, but it is a complicated, and possibly

prolonged, action, which is, at bottom, of the nature of a reflex. One

may instance the instinct of flight, which is correlated with fear. In

crossing the street we hear "toot, toot," and we run. We do not

ratiocinate, we run. All the primary instincts of mankind act similarly.

Take, for contrast, the instinct of curiosity. Consider a child watching

a mechanical toy; the impulse of this instinct of curiosity is such that

he goes to the thing and examines it. By means of the transmutation,

which it is the prerogative of man to effect, this instinct may work out

into a lifetime devoted to the study of Nature. There is an unbroken

sequence from the interest in the unknown which we see in a kitten or a

child up to that which triumphs in a Newton or a Darwin.

Thus we begin to learn that human nature is largely a collection of

instincts, more or less correlated, and that at bottom we act on our

instincts--in accordance with certain innate predilections, likings, and

dislikings with which we were born, and which we have inherited from our

ancestors. Indissolubly associated therewith is what we call emotion.

For instance, in the exercise of the instinct of curiosity we feel a

certain emotion, which we call wonder. There is an ignoble wonder and

there is a noble wonder; but whether it be an astronomer watching the

stars, or the crowd at a cinematograph show, there exists an association

between the emotion of wonder and the instinct of curiosity. Dr.

McDougall, of Oxford, elaborated some few years ago, and has now

established, an extremely important theory of the relation between

instinct and emotion. He has shown that our emotions are correlated with

our instincts; that the emotion is the inward or subjective side of the

working of the instinct. Thus an instinct is more than a "complex reflex

action"; it is more than merely that, on hearing something, or seeing

something, certain muscles are thrown into action, because along with

the action there is emotion, and this is a natural and necessary

correlation. We should do well to carry about with us, as part of our

mental furniture, this idea of the correlation between instinct and

emotion.

Now, if it be true that man is not primarily a rational animal, if he be

rather, _au fond_, a bundle, an assemblage, _an organism of instincts_,

it behoves us to recognize in ourselves and in others the primary

instincts, because from them flows all that goes to make up human

nature, whether it be good or evil. Amongst these, certainly, is the

parental instinct.

Let us first consider its development in the individual, for this bears

on the question when to begin education for motherhood. We find it very

early indeed. It is commonly asserted that the doll instinct is the

precursor, the infantile and childish form, of the parental instinct.

Some psychologists, as we have already noted, assure us that this is

wrong, that a small child will be just as content to play with anything

else as with a doll; that the child gets fond of its possession, and

that what we are really witnessing is the instinct of acquisitiveness.

The rest may reason and welcome, but those who are fathers know. We

have only to watch a child to learn that it very soon differentiates its

doll, or rather, the shapeless mass it calls its doll, from other

things. Try with your own children and see if you can get them to like

anything else as well as they like a doll. They will not. There are few

settled questions as yet in psychology, but we may certainly be sure

that the parental instinct and its associated emotion may be

unmistakably displayed as the master-passion in a child who is not yet

two years old. In a case where the possibility of imitation was excluded

I have seen a little girl adore a small baby, stroke its hands, whisper

quasi-maternal sweet nothings to it--"mother it," in short--as plainly

as I have seen the sun at noon; and there is no reason to suppose that

this deeply impressive spectacle was exceptional.

The parental instinct is connected subtly with the racial instinct; and

it is undisputed that, except in utterly degraded persons, the object of

the feelings which are associated with the racial instinct becomes the

object of the feelings which are associated with the parental instinct.

The object of the emotion of sex becomes also the object of tender

emotion. Thus "love," in its lower sense, becomes exalted by Love in the

noble sense.

There is also in us an instinct of pugnacity, which especially appears

when the working of any other instinct is thwarted. We know that the

parental instinct when thwarted, as in the tigress robbed of her whelps,

shows itself in pugnacity--even in the female, which commonly has no

pugnacity; and in the emotion of anger. It is a reasonable supposition

that the fine anger, the passion for justice, the passion against, say,

slavery or cruelty to children--that these indignations which move the

world are at bottom traceable to the workings of the outraged parental

instinct. When we have tender emotion towards a child, or towards an

animal, whatever it be, this is really the subjective side of the

working of the parental instinct. Now, tender emotion is what has made

and makes everything that is good in the individual, and in human

society. It is the basis of all morality--all morality that is real

morality--everything that permits us to hold up our heads at all, or to

hope for the future of the race. That is why the study of the parental

instinct, its correlate or source, is as important and serious as any

that can be imagined.

Let us begin by a quotation from Dr. McDougall, author of the best and

most searching account of this instinct yet written:--

"The maternal instinct, which impels the mother to protect and

cherish her young, is common to almost all the higher species of

animals. Among the lower animals the perpetuation of the species is

generally provided for by the production of an immense number of

eggs or young (in some species of fish a single adult produces more

than a million eggs), which are left entirely unprotected, and are

so preyed upon by other creatures that on the average but one or

two attain maturity. As we pass higher up the animal scale, we find

the number of eggs or young more and more reduced, and the

diminution of their number compensated for by parental protection.

At the lowest stage this protection may consist in the provision of

some merely physical shelter, as in the case of those animals that

carry their eggs attached in some way to their bodies. But, except

at this lowest stage, the protection afforded to the young always

involves some instinctive adaptation of the parent's behaviour. We

may see this even among the fishes, some of which deposit their

eggs in rude nests and watch over them, driving away creatures that

might prey upon them. From this stage onwards protection of

offspring becomes increasingly psychical in character, involves

more profound modification of the parent's behaviour, and a more

prolonged period of more effective guardianship. The highest stage

is reached by those species in which each female produces at a

birth but one or two young, and protects them so efficiently that

most of the young born reach maturity; the maintenance of the

species thus becomes in the main the work of the parental instinct.

In such species the protection and cherishing of the young is the

constant and all-absorbing occupation of the mother, to which she

devotes all her energies, and in the course of which she will at

any time undergo privation, pain, and death. The instinct becomes

more powerful than any other, and can override any other, even fear

itself; for it works directly in the service of the species, while

the other instincts work primarily in the service of the individual

life, for which Nature cares little.... When we follow up the

evolution of this instinct to the highest animal level, we find

among the apes the most remarkable examples of its operation. Thus

in one species the mother is said to carry her young one clasped in

one arm uninterruptedly for several months, never letting go of it

in all her wanderings. This instinct is no less strong in many

human mothers, in whom, of course, it becomes more or less

intellectualized and organized as the most essential constituent of

the sentiment of parental love. Like other species, the human

species is dependent upon this instinct for its continual

existence and welfare. It is true that reason, working in the

service of the egotistic impulses and sentiments, often circumvents

the ends of this instinct and sets up habits which are incompatible

with it. But when that occurs on a large scale in any society, that

society is doomed to rapid decay. But the instinct itself can never

die out save with the disappearance of the human species itself; it

is kept strong and effective just because those families and races

and nations in which it weakens become rapidly supplanted by those

in which it is strong.

"It is impossible to believe that the operation of this, the most

powerful of the instincts, is not accompanied by a strong and

definite emotion; one may see the emotion expressed unmistakably by

almost any mother among the higher animals, especially the birds

and the mammals--by the cat, for example, and by most of the

domestic animals; and it is impossible to doubt that this emotion

has in all cases the peculiar quality of the tender emotion

provoked in the human parent by the spectacle of her helpless

offspring. This primary emotion has been very generally ignored by

the philosophers and psychologists; that is, perhaps, to be

explained by the fact that this instinct and its emotion are in the

main decidedly weaker in men than women, and in some men, perhaps,

altogether lacking. We may even surmise that the philosophers as a

class are men among whom this defect of native endowment is

relatively common."

Dr. McDougall goes on to show how from this emotion and its impulse to

cherish and protect spring generosity, gratitude, love, true

benevolence, and altruistic conduct of every kind; in it they have their

main and absolutely essential root without which they would not be. He

argues that the intimate alliance between tender emotion and anger is

of great importance for the social life of man, for "the anger invoked

in this way is the germ of all moral indignation, and on moral

indignation justice and the greater part of public law are in the main

founded."[11]

The reader may be earnestly counselled to acquaint himself with Dr.

McDougall's book, which, in the judgment of those best qualified,

definitely advances the science of psychology in its deepest and most

important aspects.

_The Transmutation of Instinct._--The last thing here meant by the

transmutation of instinct is that by any political alchemy it is

possible--to quote Herbert Spencer's celebrated aphorism--to get golden

conduct out of leaden instincts. But it is the mark of man, the

intelligent being, that in him the instincts are plastic, and even

capable of amazing transmutations. In the lower animals there is

instinct, but that instinct is an almost completely fixed, rigid, and

final thing. In ourselves there is a limitless capacity for the

development, the humanization of instinct along many lines, as when the

primitive infantile curiosity works out into the speculations of a

thinker. In other words, _we_ are educable, the lower animals are not,

or only within very narrow limits.

Yet in one respect the lower animals have the advantage over us. Their

instincts are often perfect. We cannot teach a cat anything about how to

look after a kitten; but parallel instincts amongst ourselves, though

not less numerous or potent, are not perfected, not sharp-cut. In the

cat there is no need for education; in woman there is eminent need for

it. Indeed it is the lack of education that is largely responsible for

our large infant mortality; not that woman is inferior to the cat, but

that, being not instinctive but intelligent, she requires education in

motherhood.

Human instincts in general are capable of modification; sometimes they

may take bizarre forms, and so we find that there are people without

children of their own--more commonly women--who will have twenty cats in

the house and look after them, or who will devote their whole lives to

the cause of the rat or the rabbit, or whatever it may be, while the

children of men are dying around them. These things are indications of

the parental instinct centred on unworthy objects. It is a common thing

to laugh at these aberrations--thoughtlessly, may we not say? While

orphans are to be found, we should do better if we try to bring together

the woman who needs to "mother" and the child who needs to be

"mothered."

Conduct is at least three-fourths of life, and the great business of

education is the direction of conduct. We have seen how modern

psychology illuminates what has been so long dark, by directing us to

our instincts as the sources of our needs, and by showing us that it is

the possibility of the education of instinct which essentially

distinguishes us from the lower animals.

We must therefore distinguish between education for motherhood and

education or instruction in motherhood. It is very important that a

woman should know the elements of infant feeding, but it is more

important that, in the first place, her whole life before she becomes a

mother--nay, even before she chooses her child's father--shall centre in

the education of her instincts for motherhood. Finding good evidence, as

we do, of the maternal instinct at a very early age, and recognizing its

importance in conduct and in the formation of ideals long before the

marriage age, we are justified in discussing the maternal instinct here

instead of postponing it, as some might argue, until after we have

discussed marriage. There is nothing which I wish to assert more

strongly than that we are radically wrong in this postponement, which is

indeed our customary practice. Partly because we are blind, partly

because of our most imprudent prudery, we ignore and pervert the due

sequence of development, but here I deliberately prefer to follow the

indications of nature, and to discuss the maternal instinct now because,

in the matter of the education of girls, this is precisely the most

important subject that can be named.

Let us now note some popular misconceptions which cumber our minds and

often interfere with the work of the reformer.

To begin with what is perhaps the oldest of these, though indeed

scarcely entitled to the appellation of popular, let us assure ourselves

once and for all that we are talking about a fact natural, innate, not

acquired. The modern criticism of ancient notions of human nature, such

as those expressed in the theologians' conception of "conscience," has

inclined some to the view that our best feelings are indeed not at all

innate. No one can for a moment analyze conscience without observing the

immense disparity between the facts and the theologians' theory. And

thus we are apt to fall into the opposite error of supposing that our

impulses towards good action are entirely the products of education,

training, public opinion, and so forth. Let the reader refer, for

instance, to such a celebrated work as John Stuart Mill's

"Utilitarianism," and it will be seen how wide of the mark it was

possible for even a great thinker to go, when his ideas of mind were

unguided by the light of evolution. Even in the greatest writer of that

time not a syllable do we find as to the parental instinct. "As is my

own belief," says Mill, "the moral feelings are not innate but

acquired." Yet we have seen convincing evidence which teaches us that

the moral feelings spring essentially from the root of the parental

instinct, without which mankind could not continue for another

generation, and than which there is nothing more fundamental and

essential in any type of human nature that can persist.

The importance of noting this can be clearly stated. We are here dealing

with something which is not for us to implant, but which is already part

of the plant, so to speak, and which it is for us to tend. Like other

innate features of mankind, its transmission from generation to

generation is notably independent of the effects of education, the

effects of use and disuse. This is a difficult thing of which to

persuade people, but it is the fact. Education, environment, training,

opportunity, habit, public opinion, social prejudice--all these and

such other influences may and do affect the maternal instinct in the

individual for good or for evil. No fact is more certain or important,

and that is precisely why we must study this instinct. But the effect

upon the individual does not involve any effect upon the native

constitution of the individual's children. From age to age the general

facts and features of the human backbone persist. We do not expect to

find notable differences between the generations in such a radical

feature of our constitution, no matter what particular habits of

posture, play, and the like we adopt. The maternal instinct is scarcely

less fundamental; it is certainly no whit less essential for the

species. It is the very backbone of our psychological constitution. Thus

it is nonsense to assert that, for instance, women are becoming less

motherly, if by this is meant that the maternal instinct is failing.

That bad education may affect it for evil no one can question, but we

must distinguish between nature and nurture. We may be perfectly

confident that so far as the _natural_ material of girl-childhood and

girlhood is concerned, there is no falling off; there will not, for

there cannot, be any falling off either in the quality or in the

quantity of the maternal instinct. On the contrary, it can, and will

later be shown that through the action of heredity this instinct will be

strengthened in the future, just in so far as motherhood becomes more

and more a special privilege of those women in whom this instinct is

strong, and who become mothers for the _only good reason_--that they

love to have children of their own.

I protest, then, against many critics, especially those who used to

raise their now silent voices in opposition to the beginnings of the

infant mortality campaign a few years ago, that we who criticize modern

motherhood and find in its defects the causes of many and great evils,

as we do, are asserting nothing whatever against the women of this day

as compared with the women of former days, so far as their natural

constitution is concerned; and if we criticize the results of bad

education, that is mainly criticism of the blindness, the stupidity, and

the carelessness of men, who are responsible for the parodies of

education and the misdirection of ideals which have so grossly

afflicted, and still afflict, childhood and girlhood in all civilized

communities.

Yet, again, there is another misconception of the maternal instinct as

it exists in our own species, which is still more serious in its

results. The argument is that, not only does the maternal instinct

exist, but it is a sure guide to its possessor, who therefore requires

no instruction--least of all at the hands of men. A woman being a woman

knows all about babies, a man being a man knows nothing. Against this

error the present writer has endeavoured to inveigh for many years past,

and it is always retorted that insistence upon the ignorance of mothers

is a very unwarrantable piece of discourtesy. It is nothing of the sort.

Native ignorance is the mark of intelligence. It is just because

instinct in us has not the perfection of detail which it has in, say,

the insects, that it is capable of that limitless modification which

shows itself in educated intelligence, and all that educated

intelligence has achieved and will yet achieve. It may be permitted to

quote from a former statement of this point:--[12]

"The mother has only the maternal instinct in its essence. That could

not be permitted to lapse by natural selection, since humanity could

never have been evolved at all if women did not love babies. But of all

details she is bereft. She has instead an immeasurably greater thing,

intelligence, but whilst intelligence can learn everything it has

everything to learn. Subhuman instinct can learn nothing, but is perfect

from the first within its impassable limits. It is this lapse of

instinctive aptitude that constitutes the cardinal difficulty against

which we are assembled. The mother cat not merely has a far less

helpless young creature to succour, but she has a far superior inherent

or instinctive equipment; she knows the best food for her kitten, she

does not give it 'the same as we had ourselves'--as the human mother

tells the coroner--but her own breast invariably. None of us can teach

her anything as to washing her kitten, or keeping it warm. She can even

play with it and so educate it, in so far as it needs education. There

are mothers in all classes of the community who should be ashamed to

look a tabby cat in the face."

The human mother has instinctive love and the uninstructed intelligence

which is the form, at once weak and incalculably strong, that instinct

so largely assumes in mankind. This cardinal distinction between the

human and all sub-human mothers is habitually ignored, it being assumed

that the mother, as a mother, knows what is best for her child. But

experience concurs with comparative psychology in showing that the human

mother, just because she is human, intelligent, which means more than

instinctive, does not know. This is the theory upon which all our

practice is to be based, and upon which the need for it mainly depends.

We must never forget the cardinal peculiarity of human motherhood, its

absolute dependence upon education, needless for the cat, needed by the

human mother in every particular, small and great, since she relies upon

intelligence alone, which is only a potentiality and a possibility until

it be educated. Educate it, and the product transcends the cat, and not

only the cat, but all other living things. As Coleridge said--

"A mother is a mother still,

The holiest thing alive."

Perhaps the foregoing will make it clear that to insist upon the natural

ignorance of the human mother and upon the necessity for adding

instruction to the maternal instinct, and even to make comparisons with

the cat (which are, in point of fact, quite worth making, even though

some women resent them) is in no way to depreciate or decry womanhood,

but simply to demonstrate that it is human and not animal, suffering

from the disabilities or necessities which are involved in the

possession of the limitless possibilities of mankind.

What, then, is it in our power to do; and how are we to do it? It may be

argued that if the maternal instinct is a thing which cannot be made or

acquired, our study of it has little relation to practice. But indeed it

is eminently practical.

For, in the first place, this priceless possession, this parental

instinct and tenderness, is inheritable. We know by observation amongst

ourselves that hardness and tenderness are to be found running through

families--are things which are transmissible. Let us, then, make

parenthood the most responsible, the most deliberate, the most

self-conscious thing in life, so that there shall be children born to

those who love children, and only to those who love children, to those

who have the parental instinct naturally strong, and who will, on the

average, transmit a high measure of it to their offspring. In a

generation bred on these principles--a generation consisting only of

babies who were loved before they were born--there would be a proportion

of sympathy, of tender feeling, and of all those great, abstract,

world-creating passions which are evolved from the tender emotion, such

as no age hitherto has seen.

It was necessary to insert this eugenic paragraph because it expresses

the central principle of all real reform, as fundamental and

all-important as it is unknown to all political parties, and I fear to

nearly all philanthropists as well. But, for the present, our immediate

concern is the application, if such be possible, of our knowledge of the

parental instinct to the education of girls. Being indeed an instinct it

can be neither made nor acquired, but, like every other factor of

humanity that is given by inheritance, it depends upon the conditions in

which it finds itself. Education being the provision of an environment,

there is no higher task for the educator than to provide the right

environment for the maternal instinct in adolescence. We are to look

upon it as at once delicate and ineradicable. These are adjectives which

may seem incompatible, yet they may both be verified. Any one will

testify that, in a given environment, say that of high school or

university or that of the worst types of what is called society, the

maternal instinct may then and there, and for that period, become a

nonentity in many a girl. Hence we are entitled to say that it is

delicate; much more delicate, for instance, than what we have agreed to

call the racial instinct, which is far more imperious and by no means so

easily to be suppressed.

But, on the other hand, just because this is an instinct, part of the

fundamental constitution, and not a something planted from without, it

is ineradicable. I doubt whether even in the most abandoned female

drunkard it would not be possible to find, when the right environment

was provided, that the maternal instinct was still undestroyed. One is,

of course, not speaking of that rare and aberrant variety of women in

whom the instinct is naturally weak--naturally weak as distinguished

from the atrophy induced by improper nurture.

Our business, then, having recognized, so to speak, the natural history

of this instinct, and further, having come to realize its stupendous

importance for the individual and the race, is to tend it assiduously

as the very highest and most precious thing in the girls for whom we

care. As educators we must seek to provide the environment in which this

instinct can flourish. It is a good thing to be an elder sister, not

merely because the girl has opportunities of learning the ways of babies

and the details of their needs, but for a far deeper reason. Babies do

have very detailed and urgent needs, but these can be learnt without

much difficulty, and, if necessary, at very short notice. More important

is it for the whole development of the character and for the making of

the worthiest womanhood that an elder sister is provided with an

environment in which her maternal instinct can grow and grow in grace.

Much might be said on this head as to some of our present educational

practices. The kind of educationist with whom no one would trust a

poodle for half an hour may and does constantly assume, on a scale

involving millions of children, from year to year, that all is well if

the girl be taken from home and put into a school and made to learn by

heart, or at any rate by rote, the rubbish with which our youth is fed

even yet in the great name of education: though perchance whilst she is

thus being injured in body and mind and character, she might at home be

playing the little mother, helping to make the home a home, serving the

highest interests of her parents, her younger brothers and sisters and

herself at the same time--not to mention the unborn. Such a protest as

this, however, will be little heeded. There is no political party which

cares about education or even wants to know in what it consists. The

most persistent and clever and resourceful of those parties--of which, I

fear, the Fabian Society is far too good to be representative--only half

believes in the family, and is daily, and ever with more lamentable

success, seeking to substitute for the home some collective device or

other precisely as rational as that scheme of Plato's whereby the babies

were to be shuffled so that no mother should recognize her own baby,

while the fathers, need it be said, were to be as gloriously

irresponsible as under the schemes for the endowment of motherhood.

"Socialism intervenes between the children and the parents.... Socialism

in fact is the State family. The old family of the private individual

must vanish before it, just as the old waterworks of private enterprise,

or the old gas company. They are incompatible with it." Thus Mr. H. G.

Wells.

Whilst this sort of thing passes for thinking, it is a task that has

little promise in it to demand a return to the study of human nature,

and insist that only by obeying it can we command it, as Bacon said of

Nature at large. Meanwhile the madness proceeds apace; nursery-schools,

wretched parody of the nursery, are advocated at length in even Fabian

tracts, and the writer who suggests that an elder sister may be

receiving the highest kind of education in staying at home and helping

her mother, would sound almost to himself like an echo from the dead

past did he not know that neither a Plato nor a million tons of moderns

can walk through human nature or any other fact as if it were not

there.

Whatever be our duty to the girl of the working-classes, no man can deny

the importance of performing it aright. She will become the wife of the

working-man. From her thus flows most of the birth-rate. If our

education of her is wrong, it is a very great wrong for millions of

individuals and for the whole of society. But let us look at the case of

her more fortunate sister.

The girl of the more fortunate classes is certain to be well cared for

in the matter of air and food and light and exercise. We have already

seen how this matter of exercise requires to be qualified and determined

as for motherhood--that is, unless we desire most suicidally to educate

all the most promising stocks of the nation out of existence. But now

what do we owe to her in the matter of providing the right kind of

intellectual, moral, spiritual, psychical environment? It is a pity to

flounder with so many adjectives, but nearly all the available ones are

forsworn and fail to express my meaning. Let us, however, speak of the

spiritual environment, seeking to free that word from all its lamentable

associations of superstition and cant, and to associate it rather with a

humanized kind of religion that deals with humanity as made by, living

upon, and destined for, this earth, whatever unseen worlds there may or

may not be to conquer.

It is our business, then, to provide the spiritual environment in which

the maternal instinct is favoured and seen to be supremely honourable.

If in the "best" girls' schools ideas of marriage and babies are

ridiculed, the sooner these schools be rubbed down again into the soil,

the better. There is no need to substitute one form of cant for

another, but it is possible--possible even though the head-mistress

should be a spinster, for whom physical motherhood has not been and

never will be--to incorporate in the very spirit of the school, as part

of its public opinion, no less potent though its power be not

consciously felt, the ideals of real and complete womanhood, which mean

nothing less than the consecration of the individual to the future, and

the belief that such consecration serves not only the future but also

the highest satisfaction of her best self.

If it were our present task to define and specify the details of a

school in which girls should be educated for womanhood, for motherhood,

and the future, it would not be difficult, I think, to show how the

services of painting and sculpture, of poetry and prose, should be

enlisted. A word or two of outline may be permitted.

There is, for instance, a noble Madonna of Botticelli which is supremely

great, not because of the skill of the painter's hand, nor yet the

delicacy of his eye, but because of the spirit which they express.

Botticelli speaks across the centuries, and is none other than an

earlier voice uttering the words of Coleridge, teaching that a mother is

the holiest thing alive. The master may or may not have perceived that

the Madonna was a symbol; that what he believed of one holy mother was

worth believing just in so far as it serves to make all motherhood holy

and all men servants thereof. The painter can scarcely have looked at

his model and appreciated her fitness for his purpose without realizing

that he was concerned with depicting a truth not local and unique, but

universal and commonplace. Whether or not the painter saw this, we have

no excuse for not seeing it. Copies of such a painting as this should be

found in every girls' school throughout the world.

Girls learn drawing and painting at school, and these are amongst the

numerous subjects on which the present writer is entitled to no

technical or critical opinion. But he sometimes supposes that a painting

is not necessarily the worse because it represents a noble thing, and

that it may even be a worthier human occupation to portray the visage of

a living man or woman than the play of light upon a dead wall or a dead

partridge. It might even be argued by the wholly inexpert that if the

business of art is with beauty, the art is higher, other things being

equal, in proportion as the beauty it portrays is of a higher order.

Thus in the painting of women, the ignorant commentator sometimes asks

himself in what supreme sense it was worth while for an artist to expend

his powers upon the portrait of some society fool who could pay him

twelve hundred pounds therefor; or in what supreme sense a painter can

be called an artist who prefers such a task, and the flesh-pots, to the

portrayal of womanhood at its highest. There are attributes of womanhood

which directly serve human life, present and to come--attributes of

vitality and faithfulness, attributes of body and bosom, of mind and of

feeling, which it is within the power of the great artist to portray;

and it is in worthily portraying the greatest things, and in this

alone, that he transcends the status of the decorator.

It is worth while also to refer here to sculpture; something can be

taught by its means. The Venus of Milo is not only a great work of art;

it is also a representation of the physiological ideal. Its model was a

woman eminently capable of motherhood. The corset is beyond question

undesirable from every point of view, and it may be of service by means

of such a statue as this to teach the girl's eye what are the right

proportions of the body. She is constantly being faced with gross and

preposterous perversions of the female figure as they are to be seen in

the fashion plates of every feminine journal. It is as well that she

should have opportunities of occasionally seeing something better.

A note upon the corset may not be out of place here. We know that its

use is of no small antiquity. We have lately come to learn that

civilization stepped across to Europe from Asia, using Crete as a

stepping-stone; and in frescoes found in the palace of Minos, at

Knossos, by Dr. Arthur Evans, we find that the corset was employed to

distort the female figure nearly four thousand years ago, as it is

to-day. There must be some clue deep in human nature to the persistence

of a custom which is in itself so absurd. Those who have studied the

work of such writers as Westermarck, and who cannot but agree that on

the whole he is right in the contention that each sex desires to

accentuate the features of its sex, will be prepared to accept Dr.

Havelock Ellis's interpretation of the corset. By constricting the

waist it accentuates the salience of the bosom and hips. This may simply

be an expression of the desire to emphasize sex, but it may with still

more insight be looked upon, as the latter writer has suggested, as the

insertion of a claim to capacity for motherhood. This claim is of course

unconscious, but Nature does not always make us aware of the purposes

which she exercises through us. Now, though the corset serves to draw

attention to certain factors of motherhood, in point of fact it is

injurious to that end, and is on that highest of all grounds to be

condemned. I return to the point that possibly the direct and formal

condemnation of the corset may be in some cases less effective than the

method, which must have some value for every girl, of placing before her

eyes representations of the female figure, showing beauty and capacity

for motherhood as completely fused because they are indeed one.

Constrain the girl to admit that that is as beautiful as can be, and

then ask her what she thinks the corset applied to such a figure could

possibly accomplish.

Surely the same principle applies to what the girl reads. Some of us

become more and more convinced that youth, being naturally more

intelligent than maturity, prefers and requires more subtlety in its

teaching. In addressing a meeting of men, say upon politics, a speaker's

first business is to be crude. He has no chance whatever unless he is

direct, unqualified, allowing nothing at all for any kind of

intelligence or self-constructive faculty in the minds of his hearers.

Let any one recall the catchwords, styled watchwords, of politics

during the last ten or twenty years, and he will see how men are to be

convinced.

But it is all very well to treat men as fools, provided that you do not

say so--the case is different with young people, and certainly not less

with girls than with boys. Mr. Kipling, in one of those earlier moments

of insight that sometimes almost persuade us to pardon the brutality

which year by year becomes more than ever the dominant note of his

teaching, once told us of the discomfiture of a member of Parliament, or

person of that kind, who went to a boys' school to lecture about

Patriotism, and who unfurled a Union Jack amid the dead silence of the

disgusted boys. He forgot that, for once, he was speaking to an

intelligent audience, which demands something a little less crude than

the kind of thing which wins elections and makes and unmakes governments

and policies.

There is certainly a lesson here for those who are entrusted with the

supreme responsibility, so immeasurably more political than politics, of

forming the girl's mind for her future destiny. Suggestion is one of the

most powerful things in the world, but we must not forget that inverted

form of it which has been called contra-suggestion. We all know how the

first shoots of religion are destroyed on all sides in young minds by

contra-suggestion. Crude, ill-timed, unsympathetic, excessive, religious

teaching and religious exercises achieve, as scarcely anything else

could, exactly the opposite of that which they seek to attain. Thus it

is not here proposed that we should take any course at home or at

school which should have the result of making motherhood as nauseous to

the girl's mind through contra-suggestion, as it easily could be made if

we did not set to work upon judicious lines.

If we are in any measure to gain, by means of books, our end of forming

right ideals in the girl's mind, I am certain that we must not expect to

accomplish much with the help of any but very great writers. We may very

well doubt the substantial value for the purpose of anything written for

the purpose. Such books may be of value for the teacher; they may

possibly be of value in disposing of curiosity that has become

overweening or even morbid, but their value as preachments I much

question. The kind of writing upon which the young girl's mind will be

nourished in years to come is best represented by the lecture on

"Queens' Gardens" in Ruskin's "Sesame and Lilies," though in that

magnificent and immortal piece of literature there is nowhere any direct

allusion to motherhood as the natural ideal for girlhood. Yet if only

one girl in a hundred who read that lecture can be persuaded, in the

beautiful phrase to be found there, that she was "born to be love

visible," how excellent is the work that we shall have accomplished! A

chapter might well be devoted entirely to the teaching of Wordsworth

regarding womanhood. We need scarcely remind ourselves that this great

poet owed an immeasurable debt to his sister, and in lesser, though very

substantial, degree to his wife and daughters. He has left an abundance

of poetry which testifies directly and indirectly to these influences.

This poetry is not only utterly lovely as poetry; at once sane and

passionate, steadying and thrilling, but it is also not to be surpassed,

I cannot but believe, as a means for rightly forming the ideals of

girlhood. Every year sees an inundation of new collections of poetry.

The anthologist might do worse than collect from Wordsworth a small, but

precious and quintessential volume under some such title as "Wordsworth

and Womanhood." One would do it oneself but that literary people of a

certain school regard it as an impertinence that any one who believes in

knowledge should intrude into their sphere. Wordsworth, it is true, said

that "poetry is the breath and finer spirit of all knowledge; it is the

impassioned expression which is in the countenance of all Science." But

most literary people are so busy writing that they have no time to read,

and they forget these sayings of the immortal dead. Yet that is just a

saying which directly bears upon the present contention. We must be very

careful lest we insult and outrage girlhood with our physiology, not

that physiology is either insolent or outrageous, but that girlhood is

girlhood. It is the "breath and finer spirit" of our knowledge of sex

and parenthood that we must seek to impart to her. Poetry is its

vehicle, and the time will come when we shall consciously use it for

that great purpose.

But we cannot expect the adolescent girl to be content even with Ruskin

and Wordsworth. She must, of course, have fiction, and under this

heading there is more or less accessible to her every possibility in the

gamut of morality, from the teaching of such a book as "Richard

Feverel" down to the excrement and sewage that defile the railway

book-stalls to-day under the guise of "bold, reverent, and fearless

handling of the great sex problems." The present writer is one of those

old-fashioned enough to believe that it matters a great deal what young

people read. We are all hygienists nowadays, and very particular as to

what enters our children's mouths. But what is the value of these

precautions if we relax our care as to what enters their minds?

It is my misfortune to be scarcely acquainted at all with fiction, and I

can presume to offer no detailed guidance in this matter. The name of

Mr. Eden Phillpotts must certainly be mentioned as foremost among those

living writers who care for these things. In the Eugenics Education

Society it was at one time hoped to see the formation of a branch of

fiction in the library which might form the nucleus of a catalogue, well

worth disseminating if only it could be compiled, of fiction worthy the

consumption of girlhood. Perhaps it would hardly be necessary for the

present writer to protest that the didactic, the unnaturally good, the

well-meaning, the entirely amateur types of fiction, including those

which ignore the facts of human nature, and, above all, those which

decry instead of seeking to deify the natural, would find no place in

this catalogue. It is possible, though I much doubt it, that there may

be many books unknown to me of the order and quality of "Richard

Feverel." At any rate, that represents in its perfection--save, perhaps,

for the unnecessary tragedy of its close, which the illustrious author

himself in conversation did not find it quite possible to defend--the

type of novel whose teaching the Eugenist and the Maternalist must

recommend for the nourishment of youth of both sexes.

As has been already hinted, discourses on how to wash a baby are less in

place here; and in the following chapter the argument will be set forth

in detail that the sequence of the common schemes for the education of

girlhood and womanhood is, in one essential respect, logically and

practically erroneous.

XIII

CHOOSING THE FATHERS OF THE FUTURE

We live in a social chaos of which the evolution into anything like a

cosmos is scarcely more than incipient. In such a case the reformer has

to do the best he may; in the only possible sense in which that phrase

can be defended, he has to take the world as he finds it. Heartless

heads will of course be found to comment upon the logical error of his

ways, to which his only reply is that, while they stand and comment,

what can be done he now will do.

In this whole matter of the care and culture of motherhood--which is,

verily, the prime condition, too often forgotten, of the care and

culture of childhood--we have to do what we can, when and as we can. We

live in a society where mankind, held individually responsible for all

other acts whatsoever, is held entirely irresponsible for the act of

parenthood which, being more momentous than any other, ought to be held

more responsible than any other. Marriage, the precedent condition of

most parenthood, is thus regarded as the concern of the individuals and

the present. Individuals and the present therefore decide what marriages

shall occur; but by some obscure fatality which no one had thought of,

the future appears upon the scene: and when it is actually present, or

rather not only present but visible, the responsibility for it is

recognized. We have not yet gone so far as to see that a girl may be a

good mother, in the highest sense, in her choice of a mate. But as

things are, it is agreed that we are to act like blind automata, as

improvident and irresponsible as the lower fishes, until the actual

birth of the future. The philosophic truth that the future is nascent in

the present--a truth so genuinely philosophic that it is also

practical--is still hidden from us, and thus we are faced, in town and

country alike, with ignorant motherhood, set to the most difficult,

responsible, and expert of tasks--the right nurture of babyhood;

babyhood, a ridiculous subject for grown men, yet somehow the condition

of them and all their doings.

In this state of affairs, those who began the modern campaign against

infant mortality, or rather that small section of them who were not to

be beguiled by secondaries, such as poverty, alcoholism, and the like,

set to work to remedy maternal ignorance. Having been engaged in this

campaign for many years, one is not likely to decry it now, nor is there

any occasion to do so. The movement for the instruction of motherhood

and for the instruction even of girls in the duties of actual

motherhood, is now not only started but making real progress, and will

assuredly prosper.

But here our business is to think a little in front of action done and

doing, and we shall very soon discover that there is more for public

opinion yet to learn, while we may be very certain that this last lesson

will be less easily learnt than the former was, for it is based upon

evidence much less obvious. I have long maintained that the movement

against infant mortality must precede in logic and in practice movements

for the physical training of boys and girls, for the medical inspection

and treatment of school children, and so forth. Relatively to these I

have always asserted that the right care of babies has the immense

superiority that it means beginning at the beginning, but I have always

denied that it means beginning at the absolute beginning, if such a

phrase be permitted.

Given the world as it is, the conditions of marriage as they are, the

economic position of woman, the power of prudery, and the conventional

supposition that babies occur by providential dispensation, we must act

as if we really made the assumption that human parenthood, until the

moment of birth, is as irresponsible as any sequence of events in the

atmosphere or the world of electrons. But we who are thinking in front

for humanity must make no such assumption. We must look forward to and

hasten the time when we can act upon the _true_ assumption, which is

that the more the knowledge the greater the responsibility, and more

especially that our knowledge of heredity, so far from abolishing human

responsibility--as the enemies of knowledge declare--immeasurably

extends and deepens it. In the present volume we are proceeding upon the

true assumption, and therefore in the study of womanhood we must now

proceed, in defiance of conventional assumptions, to study the

responsibility and duties of motherhood _as they exist for maidenhood_.

To this end, it will be necessary that we remind ourselves of certain

great biological facts which are of immense significance for mankind,

and are doubtless indeed more important in their bearing upon ourselves

than upon any other living species.

The first of these is the fact of heredity; the second the fact that

hereditary endowment, whether for good or for evil, or, as is the rule,

both for good and for evil, goes vastly further than any one has until

lately realized, in determining individual destiny. These are amongst

the first principles of Eugenics or race culture, and as they have been

discussed at length elsewhere, one may here take them for granted.

Scarcely less important is the fact that the conditions of mating in the

sub-human world--conditions which beyond dispute make for the

continuance, the vigour, the efficiency, and therefore the happiness of

the species--are largely modified amongst ourselves in consequence of

certain human facts which have no sub-human parallel. The parallels and

the divergences between the two cases are both alike of the utmost

significance, and cannot be too carefully studied. It will here be

possible, of course, merely to look at them as briefly as is compatible

with the making of a right approach to the subject now before us, which

is the girl's choice of a husband.

But in right priority to the question of choice, we may for convenience

discuss first the marriage age. The choice at one age may not be the

choice at another, and in any case the question of the marriage age is

so important for the individual woman, and so immensely effective in

determining the composition of any society, that we cannot study it too

carefully.

XIV

THE MARRIAGE AGE FOR GIRLS

Let us clearly understand, in the first place, that in this chapter we

discuss principles and averages, and that, supposing our conclusions be

accepted as true, they cannot for a moment be quoted as decisive in

their bearing upon special cases. The impartial reader will not suppose

that such folly is contemplated, but those who discuss and advocate new

views very soon learn that many readers are not impartial, and that for

one cause or another they do not fail of misrepresentation. This is not

a case, then, of "science laying down the law," and ordering this

individual to marry at this age, and that not to marry at another; and

yet though this rigorous individual application of our principles is

absurd, they are none the less worth formulating, if it be possible.

The question before us is very far from simple: it is not in the nature

of human problems to be simple, the individual and society being so

immeasurably complex. We have to consider far more points than occur on

first inspection. We have to ascertain when the average woman becomes

fit for marriage. But we must remember that we are dealing with marriage

under the conditions imposed by law and public opinion. Therefore, fit

for mating and fit for marriage are not synonymous, and to ascertain the

age of physiological fitness for mating, though an important

contribution to our problem, is not the solution of it. We have further

to consider how the taste and inclination of the individual vary in the

course of her development. We have to ask ourselves at what age in

general she is likely to make that choice which her maturity and middle

age will ratify rather than for ever regret. We have to consider the

relations of different ages to motherhood, both as regards the quality

of the children born, and as regards their probable number under natural

conditions. These are questions which certainly affect the individual's

happiness profoundly, and yet that is the least of their significance.

Again, we have to observe how the constitution of society varies as

regards the age of its members, according as marriage be early or late.

In the former case more generations are alive at the same time, and in

the latter case fewer. The increasing age at marriage would have more

conspicuous results in this respect if it were not for the great

increase in longevity; so that, though the generations are becoming more

spread out, we may have as many representatives of different generations

alive at the same time as there used to be; but of course there is the

great difference that society is older as a whole. This is a fact which

in itself must affect the doings and the prospects of civilization. An

assemblage of people in the twenties will not behave in the same way as

those in the forties. The probable effect must be towards conservatism,

and increasing rigidity. It is a question to be asked by the historian

of civilization how far these considerations bear upon the history of

past empires.

Another and most notable result of the modified relation between the

generations which ensues from increasing the age at marriage, is that

the parents, under the newer conditions, must necessarily be, on the

average, psychologically further from their children. The man who first

becomes a father at twenty-five, shall we say, may well expect still to

have something of the boy in him at thirty, especially as children keep

us young. He is thus a companion for his child and his child for him.

The same is true of women. It is good that a woman who still has

something of girlhood in her should become a mother. When the marriage

age is much delayed, people of both sexes tend to grow old more quickly

than if they had children to keep them young, and then when the children

come the psychological disparity is greater than it ought to be--greater

than is best either for parents or children.

Before we consider the question of individual development, let us note

the general trend of the marriage age. There is no doubt that this is

progressively towards a delay in marriage. We have only to study the

facts amongst primitive races, and in low forms of civilization, to see

that increase in civilization involves, amongst other things, increasing

age at marriage. In his book, "The Nature of Man," Professor Metchnikoff

quotes some statistics, now very nearly fifty years old, showing the age

at first marriage in various European countries. The figure for England

was nearly 26 for males and 24.6 for females; in France, Norway,

Holland, and Belgium the figures for both sexes were considerably

higher, the average age in Belgium being very nearly 30 for men and more

than 28 for women. In England the age has been rising for many years

past, and probably stands now at about 28 for men and 26 for women. It

need hardly be pointed out that this increase in the age of marriage is

one of the factors in the fall of the birth-rate, which is general

throughout the leading countries of the world, proceeding now with great

rapidity even in Germany.

On the whole, it is further true that the marriage age rises as we

ascend from lower to higher classes within a given civilization, though

a very select class among the wealthy offer an exception to this.

Now nothing is more familiar to us all than that there is a disharmony,

as Professor Metchnikoff puts it, between these ages for marriage and

the age at which the development of the racial instinct is unmistakable

and parenthood is indeed possible. The tendency of civilization is to

increase this disharmony, and it is impossible to believe that this

tendency can be healthy either for the civilization or for the

individual.

Still concerning ourselves with the more general aspects of the

question, let it be observed that, as regards men, this unnatural delay

of marriage very frequently brings consequences which, bearing hardly on

themselves, later bear not less hardly on hapless womanhood. The later

the age to which marriage is delayed, the more are men handicapped in

their constant struggle to control the racial instinct under the

unnatural conditions in which they find themselves. The great majority

of men fail in this unequal fight, and of those who fail an enormous

number become infected by disease, with which, when they marry, they

infect their wives, sometimes killing them, often causing them lifelong

illness, often destroying for ever their chances of motherhood, or

making motherhood a horror by the production of children that are an

offence against the sun. These are facts known to all who have looked

into the matter, but there is no such thing as decent public opinion on

the subject, and the author or speaker who dares to allude to them takes

his means of living, if not his life, into his hands.

No doubt men are largely responsible themselves for the rising marriage

age, but women are also responsible in some measure. This must mean on

the whole an injury to themselves as individuals, to their sex, and to

society. Both sexes demand a higher standard of living; the man spends

enough in alcohol and tobacco, as a rule, to support one or two

children, and then says he is too poor to marry. There is everything to

be said for the doctrine that people should be provident, and should

bring no more children into the world than they are able to support; but

before we accept this plea in any particular case, we should first

inquire how the available income is being spent. At present, every

indication goes to show that we are following in the track of all our

predecessors, spending upon individual indulgence that which ought to be

dedicated to the future, and thereby compromising the worth or the

possibility of any future at all.

In the light of these considerations and many more, some of which we

shall later consider, I deplore and protest against with all my heart,

as blind, ignorant, and destructive, the counsel of those women, some of

them conspicuous advocates of the cause of woman's suffrage--in which I

nevertheless believe--who advise women to delay in marriage, or who

publish opinions throwing contempt upon marriage altogether. Later, we

must deal in detail with marriage; here we are only concerned with the

marriage age. It will then be argued that the conditions of marriage

must sooner or later be modified in so far as they are at present

inacceptable to a certain number of women of the highest type. This may

be granted without in any degree accepting the deplorable teaching of

such writers as Miss Cicely Hamilton, in her book entitled "Marriage as

a Trade." Every individual case requires individual consideration, and

no less than any individual case ever yet received. But in general those

women who counsel the delay of the marriage age are opposing the facts

of feminine development and psychology. They are indirectly encouraging

male immorality and female prostitution, with their appalling

consequences for those directly concerned, for hosts of absolutely

innocent women, and for the unborn. Further, those who suppose that the

granting of the vote is going to effect radical and fundamental changes

in the facts of biology, the development of instinct, and its

significance in human action, are fools of the very blindest kind. Some

of us find that it needs constant self-chastening and bracing up of the

judgment to retain our belief in the cause of woman's suffrage, of the

justice and desirability of which we are convinced, assaulted as we

almost daily are by the unnatural, unfeminine, almost inhuman blindness

of many of its advocates.

We have constantly to remind ourselves that our immediate concern and

duty are not with the world as it might be, or ought to be, or will be,

but with the world as it is. There are many good arguments, admirably

adapted to an imaginary world, why the marriage age should be increased.

But these forget the possible, nay the inevitable, consequences, if such

an increase show itself in one nation and not in another, in one class

of society and not in another. It is a good thing, and it is the ideal

of the eugenist, as I ventured to formulate some years ago, that every

child who comes into the world should be desired, designed, and loved in

anticipation. But if in France, shall we say, such a tendency begins to

obtain a generation earlier than it does in Germany, there will come to

be a disparity of population which, continuing, must inevitably mean

sooner or later the disappearance of France.

Or again, difference in the marriage age in different classes within a

given community has very notable consequences, as Sir Francis Galton

showed in his book, "Hereditary Genius," and later, in more detail, in

his "Inquiries into Human Faculty." He shows that, other things being

equal, the earlier marrying class or group will in a few generations

breed down the others and completely supplant them. If the natural

quality of the one class differ from that of the other, the ultimate

consequences will be tremendous. It has been proved up to the hilt that

in Great Britain these differences in marriage in different classes

exist, and that, on the whole, the marriage age varies directly as the

means of support for the children, to say nothing of natural and

transmissible differences in different classes. One can only, therefore,

repeat what was said some time ago in contribution to a public

discussion on this subject that, "considering the present distribution

of the birth-rate, nothing strikes a more direct blow at the future of

England than that which tends to increase the marriage age of the

responsible, careful, and provident amongst us whilst the improvident

and careless multiply as they do."

Let us now consider another possible factor in this question, and then

we must proceed to look at the individual woman as the question of the

marriage age affects her.

_The Marriage Age and the Quality of the Children._--Both from the point

of view of the race and from that of the individual who desires happy

parenthood it is necessary to learn, if possible, how the age of the

parents affects the quality of their offspring. If motherhood is to be a

joy and a blessing, the children must be such as bring joy and blessing.

My provisional judgment on this matter is that we are at present without

anything like conclusive evidence proving that the age of the parents

affects the quality of their children.

Let us look at some of the arguments which have been advanced. The

school of biometricians, represented most conspicuously in latter years

by Professor Karl Pearson, have desired us to accept certain conclusions

which are singularly incompatible with the opinion of their illustrious

founder, Sir Francis Galton, in favour of early marriages among those of

sound stock. By their special procedure, as rigorously critical in the

statistical treatment of _data_ as it is sweetly simple in its innocent

assumption that all _data_ are of equal value, they have proposed to

show that the elder members of a family are further removed from the

normal, average, or mean type than the younger members. This, according

to them, may sometimes work out in the production of great ability or

genius in the eldest or elder members, but oftener still shows itself in

highly undesirable characters, whether of mind or of body, the latter

often leading to premature decease. There is hence inferred a powerful

argument against the limitation of families, which means a

disproportionate increase amongst the aberrant members of the

population.

This argument really offers as good an example as can be desired of the

almost unimaginable ease with which these skilful mathematicians allow

themselves to be confused. Their inquiry has ignored the age of the

parents at marriage--or, better still, at the births of their respective

children--and has assumed that the number of the family was the

all-important point: a good example of that idolatry of number as number

which is the "freak religion" of the biometrician. Supposing that the

conclusion reached by this method be a true one--which it would need

more credulity than I possess to assert--we must conclude that, somehow,

primogeniture, as such, affects the quality of the offspring, and, on

the other hand, that to be born fifth or tenth or fifteenth involves

certain personal consequences of a special kind. Evidently we here

approach less sophisticated forms of number-worship, as that which

attached a superstitious meaning to the seventh son of a seventh son.

It seems, therefore, necessary to point out--surprising though the

necessity be--that, if the biometrical conclusion be valid, what it

demonstrates must surely be not the occult working of certain changes in

the germ-plasm, for instance, of a father, because a certain number of

his germ-cells, after separation from his body, have gone to form new

individuals (changes which would not have occurred if those germ-cells

had perished!), but rather a correlation between the _age_ of the

parents and the quality of their offspring. How cleverly the

biometricians have involved one muddle within another will be evident

not only from considering the evident absurdity of supposing--as their

argument, analyzed, necessarily supposes--that a man's body can be

affected by the diverse fates of germ-cells that have left it, but also

when we observe that one of the commonest and most obvious causes of the

reduction in the size of families is the increasing age at marriage of

both sexes. Two persons may thus marry and become parents at the age of

say thirty, their child ranking as first-born, of course, in the

biometricians' tables; but had they married ten years sooner, a child

born when the parents were thirty might rank as the tenth child, and

would be so reckoned by the biometricians. One does not need to be a

biologist to perceive that conclusions based upon assumptions so

uncritical are worth nothing at all, and it is tempting to suggest that

the biometricians are so called, on a principle long famous, because

they measure everything but life.

It is plainly unnecessary, therefore, for us to trouble about collecting

the innumerable instances where children late in the family sequence

have turned out to be illustrious, or have proved to be idiots. It is

unnecessary because the most obvious criticism of the contention before

us disposes of the proof upon which it is sought to be based.

Nevertheless, of course, though the particular contention about the size

of the family must necessarily be meaningless, unless, as is so very

improbable, it should be shown some day that the bearing of children

affects the maternal organism in some way so as to cause subsequent

children to approximate ever nearer to the type of the race; yet it is

quite conceivable, though quite unproved, that the age of the parents

involves changes in the body which affect, for good or for evil, either

the construction or the general vigour of the germ-cells. As to this

nothing is known, but a great weight of evidence suggests that little

importance, if any, can be attached to this question. Women marrying at

forty or more may give birth to splendid specimens of humanity or to

indifferent ones, and the same may be said of the girl of seventeen,

though as to this more must be said. Similarly, also, it is impossible

to make any general contrasts between the offspring of fathers of

eighteen or fathers of eighty. Correlations may exist, but we know

nothing of them yet.

Our conclusion then is that, with regard to the quality of the children

of any given mother, we cannot say that she should marry at any

particular age, within limits, rather than another. On the other hand,

it is evident that if she be highly worthy of motherhood we shall desire

her to have a large family, and therefore must encourage her early

marriage, as the late Sir Francis Galton so long maintained.

_Physical Fitness for Marriage._--We must carefully distinguish between

the question we have just been discussing and that of the marriage age

from the mother's point of view. We shall find that the best age for

marriage, so far as this question is concerned, is neither puberty, on

the one hand, nor the average marriage age amongst civilized women, on

the other hand.

If things were as we should like them to be, there would be a harmony

between the occurrence of puberty and fitness for marriage. But there

can be no question that the goal of evolution, which is perfect

adaptation, has not yet been attained by mankind, and indeed reason can

be given to show that the goal recedes as we advance towards it. The

practice of lower races, amongst whom the girls often marry at puberty

or before it, is much less injurious to the individual and the race than

we might suppose; but the harmony between the maternal body and the

maternal function is much less imperfect in lower races of mankind than

it is among ourselves. Just as we find that, among the lower animals,

the phenomena of motherhood are simple, easy, and almost painless, so we

find that, though owing to the erect attitude, as much cannot be said

for human beings anywhere, yet these phenomena are far less severe among

the lower races of mankind than among ourselves. The reason is to be

found in the astonishing progressive increase in the size of the human

head in the higher races. The large size of the head in adult life is

foreshadowed in its size at birth, and this it is which constitutes the

_crux_ of motherhood among the higher races. It is undoubtedly true that

the maternal body, by a process of natural selection, has been evolved

in the direction of better correspondence with, and capacity for, that

enlarged head of which civilization is the product. But at the present

stage in evolution the great function of giving birth to a human being

of high race--more especially to a boy of such a race--is graver, more

prolonged, and more hazardous than the maternal function has ever been

before. The gravity of the process has increased proportionately with

the worth of the product.

There are yet further consequences of the development which will

convince us how important it is that we should come to right conclusions

regarding the physical fitness of girls for marriage. Even to-day, when

the work of Lord Lister has been done, and when maternity hospitals--far

more dangerous than a battlefield less than two generations ago--can

show records from year to year without the loss of a single mother, the

fact remains that several thousands of women in Great Britain alone lose

their lives every year in the discharge of their supreme duty. It is

also the case that large numbers of infants lose their lives during, or

shortly after, birth, owing to causes inherent in the conditions of

birth, and practically beyond any but the most expert control. In many

cases no skill will save the child. A considerable preponderance of the

victims are of the male sex, so that there is thus early begun that

process of higher male mortality, which is the chief cause of the female

preponderance that is so injurious to womanhood and to society. There

are thus many and weighty reasons, individual and social--reasons in the

present generation and in the next--which conduce to the importance of

discovering the best age for marriage from the physical point of view.

We may probably accept the long-standing figures of Dr. Matthews Duncan,

one of Edinburgh's many famous obstetricians, who found that the

mortality rate in childbirth, or as a consequence of it, was lowest

among women from twenty to twenty-four years of age. Therefore it may

safely be said that, on the average, and looking at the question, for

the present, solely from this point of view, a girl of twenty-one to

twenty-two is by no means too young to marry. Of course it would be

monstrously absurd to take such a statement as this and regard it as

conclusive, even had it been communicated from on high, for any

particular case; but as an average statement it may be confidently put

forward. At this age, the all-important bones of the pelvis have reached

all the development of which they are capable. This may be accepted,

notwithstanding the fact that, especially in men, the growth of the long

bones of the limbs continues to a considerably later age. Women reach

maturity sooner than men, and the pelvis reaches its full capacity at

the age stated. Obstetricians know further that if motherhood be begun

at a considerably later date, there is less local adaptability than when

the bones and ligaments are younger. The point lies in the date of the

beginning of motherhood, for this is in general a conspicuous instance

of the adage that the first step is the most costly.[13]

_Psychical Fitness for Marriage._--At the beginning of this chapter it

was insisted that we must carefully distinguish between physical or

physiological fitness for mating and complete fitness for

marriage--which, though it includes mating, is vastly more. Few will

question the proposition that physical fitness for marriage is reached

only some years after puberty; so complete psychical fitness for

marriage may well be later still. We should thus have a second

disharmony superposed upon the first. But, instead, when we look round

us, we may often be inclined to ask whether, for many girls and women,

the age of psychical fitness for marriage is ever reached at all; and we

have to ask ourselves how far this delay or indefinite postponement of

such fitness is due to natural conditions, or how far it is due to the

fact that we bring up our girls to be, for instance, sideboard

ornaments, as Ruskin said a generation ago.

I believe that this disparity between the age of physical fitness for

marriage and the attainment of that outlook upon life and its duties,

without which marriage must be so perilous, is one of the most important

practical problems of our time, and that its solution is to be found in

the principle of education for parenthood, which we have already

considered at such length. It is a most serious matter that marriage

should be delayed as it is beyond the best age for the commencement of

motherhood; it is injurious to the individual and her motherhood, and

whether delay occurs, as it does, disproportionately in different cases,

or disproportionately within a nation, in the different classes of which

it is composed, the consequences, as we have seen, are of the most

stupendous possible kind.

Yet observe what a difficulty we are faced with. Perceiving the

injurious consequences of delay in marriage--consequences which, as we

have seen, if considered only as they show themselves in the most

horrible department of pathology, would be sufficient to demand the most

urgent consideration--we may almost feel inclined to agree with the

utterly blind and deplorable doctrine too common amongst parents and

schoolmistresses, who should know so much better, that it is good to see

the young things falling in love, and that the sooner they are married

the better. Every one whose eyes are open knows how often the

consequences of such teaching and practice are disastrous; and if there

is anything which we should discourage in our present study, it is that

marriage in haste and repentance at leisure to which these blind guides

so often lead their blind victims.

Very different, however, will the case be when the victims are no longer

blind. The condemnation of their blind guides at the present time is not

that they regard it as right and healthy that young people should mate

in their early twenties, but it is that by every means in their power,

positive and negative, these blind guides have striven to prevent the

light from reaching their victim's eyes. The day is coming, however,

when the principles of education for parenthood--for which, if for

anything, this book is a plea--will be accepted and practised, and then

the case will be very different.

Convinced though I certainly am of the vast importance of nature or

heredity in the human constitution, I am not one of those eugenists who,

to the grave injury of their cause, declare that there are no such

things as nurture and education, in that they effect nothing; nor do I

believe it in any way inherently necessary that perhaps ten years after

puberty a girl should still be irresponsible in those matters which,

incomparably beyond all others, demand responsibility; or incapable,

with wise help or even without it, of guiding her course aright. It is

we, as I repeat for the thousandth time, who are to blame, for our

deliberate, systematic, and disastrous folly in scrupulously excluding

from her education that for which the whole of education, of any other

kind, should be regarded as the preparation.

No one can attach more than its due importance to woman's function of

choosing the fathers of the future; rejecting the unworthy and selecting

the worthy for this greatest of human duties. It would be a most serious

difficulty for those who hold such a creed if it were that a girl's

taste and judgment could be trusted, if at all, only some years after

she had reached physical maturity for motherhood. It may be that in the

present conditions of girls' education, such right direction of this

choice as occurs, is just as likely to occur at the earlier age as at

any later one, when indeed it may happen that considerations more

worldly and prudential, less generally natural and eugenic, may come to

have greater weight. One can, therefore, only leave it to the reader's

consideration whether it is not high time that we should so seek to

prepare the girl's mind, that when her body Is ready for marriage her

mind may, if possible, be ready also to guide her towards a worthy

choice which the whole of her future life may ratify, and the life of

her descendants thereafter.

It must be insisted again that this question has many ramifications, and

that not the least important of them are those which concern themselves

with the kinds of disease already referred to. Some enemy of God and man

once invented a phrase about the desirability of young men sowing their

wild oats, and subsequent enemies of life and the good and progress, or

perhaps mere fools, animated gramophones of a cheap pattern, have

repeated and still propagate that doctrine. It is poisonous to its core;

it never did any one any good, and has done incalculable harm. It has

blinded the eyes of hundreds of thousands of babies; it has brought

hundreds of thousands more rotten into the world. Hosts of dead men,

women, and children are its victims. It is indeed good that a man should

be a man, and not a worm on stilts; it is indeed good that women should

prefer men to be men, and that as soon as possible they should cease to

accept in marriage the feeble, the cowardly, the echoers, and the sheep.

But this is a very different thing from asserting that it is good for

young men, before marriage, to adopt a standard of morality which would

be thought shameful beyond words in their sisters, and which has all the

horrible consequences that have been alluded to, and many more. Now,

vicious though the wild oats doctrine be in itself and in its

consequences, we have to grant that there is little need of it, for

young manhood needs the insertion of no doctrines from without to

encourage it towards the satisfaction of what are in themselves natural

and healthy tendencies. Our right procedure therefore should

be--notwithstanding the unhealthy tendency of high civilization in this

respect, and notwithstanding the terrible folly, traitorous to their

sex, of those women who decry marriage, and seek to delay it--to prepare

girlhood and public opinion, and even to modify, so far as may be

necessary, economic conditions, in order that the girls who are worthy

to marry at all shall do so at the right age, and shall join themselves

for life with rightly chosen men.

One more point may be conveniently considered here, though it is not

strictly a matter of the marriage age for girls. The point is as to the

most generally desirable age relation between husband and wife. Here,

again, we must remind ourselves that it is impossible to lay down the

law for any case, and that that is not what we are now attempting to do.

As every one knows, there is an average disparity of some few years in

the ages of husband and wife. This may be referred probably to economic

conditions in part, and also to the fact that girlhood becomes womanhood

at a somewhat earlier age than boyhood becomes manhood. The girl is more

precocious. Thus though she be twenty and her husband twenty-three, she

is as mature.

It is probable that the economic tendencies of the day are in the

direction of increasing this disparity, since more is demanded of the

man in the material sense, and he therefore must delay. Some authorities

consider that seniority of six or eight years on the part of the husband

constitutes the desirable average. But there are considerations commonly

ignored that should qualify this opinion in my judgment.

It is not that science has any information regarding the consequence

upon the sex or quality of offspring of any one age ratio in marriage

rather than another. On subjects like this wild statements are

incessantly being made, and we are often told that certain consequences

in offspring follow when the husband is older than the wife, and others

when he is younger, and so forth. As to this, nothing is known, and it

is improbable that there is anything to know. But it has usually been

forgotten, so far as I am aware, that the disparity of age has a very

marked and real consequence, which is, in its turn, the cause of many

more consequences.

We have seen that the male death-rate is higher than the female

death-rate. At all ages, whether before birth or after it, the male

expectation of life is less than the female. This is more conspicuously

true than ever now that the work of Lord Lister, based upon that of

Pasteur, has so enormously lowered the mortality in childbirth. Even

now that mortality is falling, and will rapidly fall for some time to

come, still further increasing the female advantage in expectation of

life; the more especially this applies to married women. If now, this

being the natural fact, we have most husbands older than their wives,

it follows that in a great preponderance of cases the husband will die

first; and so we have produced the phenomenon of widowhood. The greater

the seniority of the husband, the more widowhood will there be in a

society. Every economic tendency, every demand for a higher standard of

life, every aggravation for the struggle for existence, every increment

of the burden of the defective-minded, tending to increase the man's age

at marriage, which, on the whole, involves also increasing his

seniority--contributes to the amount of widowhood in a nation.

We therefore see that, as might have been expected, this question of the

age ratio in marriage, though first to be considered from the average

point of view of the girl, has a far wider social significance. First,

for herself, the greater her husband's seniority, the greater are her

chances of widowhood, which is in any case the destiny of an enormous

preponderance of married women. But further, the existence of widowhood

is a fact of great social importance because it so often means unaided

motherhood, and because, even when it does not, the abominable economic

position of woman in modern society bears hardly upon her. It is not

necessary to pursue this subject further at the present time. But it is

well to insist that this seniority of the husband has remoter

consequences far too important to be so commonly overlooked.

Woman and Womanhood: A Search for Principles · 第 7 / 15 章