usual with a French nurse and a German maid and a music master who could
command a fabulous price, while he engaged an artist of distinction to
oversee her untidy attempts at drawing. At last he remembered that she
ought to have a teacher in English, and a lady was engaged to teach
grammar and literature and history. "And arithmetic?" she asked. "A
little, perhaps. Girls need very little."
The millionaire's daughter came to take her lesson--a bright, handsome
girl, full of good nature. "I hate arithmetic, you know," she said
confidingly, shrugging her shoulders and puckering her brows. "And then,
what's the good of it for a girl?"
The teacher did not argue the question, but began her task. "If thirteen
yards of ribbon cost $3.25, how much will one yard cost?" As doing this
problem in her mind was quite out of Miss Malvina's power, she was
allowed paper and pencil. She wrinkled her forehead, curled her lip,
looked up and laughed, "I haven't the faintest idea, don't you know?" A
few judicious questions led her to see the necessity of dividing $3.25
by 13, and she went to work. After a season of struggle her countenance
cleared. "Upon my word, I've got the answer--25!" "Twenty-five what?"
"Twenty-five--why--twenty-five dollars!" "Wouldn't that be rather high
for ribbon?" asked the teacher. "Oh, I don't know," replied Miss
Malvina carelessly. "I'll tell you," she added triumphantly; "I should
tell them to give me the best, and I suppose they would know what I
ought to pay." This is hardly an extreme case. In the public schools the
girls still learn arithmetic,--perhaps they spend too much strength upon
it for the practical mastery they get; but in private schools the best
of teachers find it almost impossible to give girls a working knowledge
of the subject, because the tide of feeling is so strong against it.
By and by Miss Malvina's father found himself having trouble with his
workmen. There were strikes. The family received threatening letters.
Malvina's rosy cheeks grew pale. "I don't know what they want," she said
forlornly. "They say we are all so extravagant. I don't know what
difference that makes to them if we pay for what we buy. We never hurt
them. I wish we were not rich at all. It would be much nicer to be poor.
I should like to be a--what is it?--a commoner--or a communist or
something. Then nobody would be envious."
Now there was not a more generous girl in the world than Malvina. If she
had been afloat on a raft after a shipwreck she would have been the one
to give up her last ration of water to any one who needed it more. She
was ready to pour out money in any case of distress, but she had no
idea of its value, and none of her charities prospered, except so far
as her rosy, good-natured face could be seen, for that, to be sure, did
good like a medicine.
And she was not a stupid girl, though certainly not brilliant in
mathematics. If she had been taught that arithmetic is positively needed
by every girl, rich or poor, she could have learned all she needed to
know of figures to make her life a blessing to hundreds of people whom
she only injured for lack of such knowledge.
A vast amount of the daily comfort of people of narrow means depends on
the understanding the mother of a family has of accounts, so that the
real needs and pleasures may be provided for without the contraction of
debt. In a rich family the burden of the mother's incapacity for figures
does not fall directly on those dearest to her, but it has unconsciously
a far greater weight in the world at large, and is one of the chief
among the unrecognized elements causing the increasing bitterness
between the rich and the poor.
Let every girl, rich or poor, be required to keep her own accounts
accurately from the time she is old enough to have an allowance of even
ten cents a month, and there would be a perceptible amelioration in some
of the hardest of present conditions.
I believe that some music should be included in a practical
education,--certainly if a girl has a taste for it. The ability to sing
hymns and ballads, and to play accompaniments well, adds so much to the
happiness of a woman herself, and usually to that of her family, that it
ought to be considered as something more than an accomplishment. I
should not wish to be understood as limiting a musical education to
these requirements. I should like to have every girl carry her education
as far as she can without neglecting duties she feels more important.
Even when she has no musical talent, but merely a love for music, though
she cannot give much pleasure to others, I think she may get an
elevation of mind from stumbling through Beethoven and Wagner which is
worth the time she spends. Still, I think singing is of more practical
use than instrumental music, and the power to play simple things well
which is so rare is in most cases more to the purpose than to stumble
through Beethoven and Wagner.
Drawing is practical as it trains the eye and hand, but unpractical if
it leads a girl to think her commonplace pictures are works of art. It
seems to me that a good way for girls to study art is for them to look
at good pictures with older people who have taste and judgment, because
this gives them new resources of enjoyment. Of course when a girl has
special talent she needs the training which will give her the power to
produce, but this chapter is devoted to the general education of girls.
Every girl should study at least one science. Science trains the mind in
a different way from other studies. And one science sheds light on all
the rest. Then, anything which puts cheap pleasures within our reach is
a safeguard and a blessing. The happiness of life is no light thing, and
those who have tested it know how much simple happiness comes from the
pursuit of botany or ornithology or mineralogy.
It would be a great thing if every woman could be so well educated that
she could teach her own children, at least the main branches, up to the
time when they are twelve years old. This is by no means saying that it
is not well for many children to be sent to school, but it is calling
attention to a great privilege which some mothers and some children may
enjoy. What ought a woman to be able to teach her children? To read, in
the broad sense, to write a legible hand, and to speak correctly. She
ought to be able to teach them arithmetic, and also the rudiments of one
science, to give them in early life the right outlook upon the world
around them. She ought particularly to be able to give them fine
manners, but these belong to the moral training which was spoken of at
the beginning of the chapter. They do bear, however, on that part of the
social life which may not be distinctly moral, but which is of high
practical importance to one's success in life, as well as to one's
happiness. Many of the noblest women are shy and awkward except with
their special friends, and so are unfitted for practical life. Mothers
should remember this and make a determined effort to give children the
practice of meeting many people, though, of course, the kind of people
and the conditions under which they are to be met require careful
consideration.
As for the entirely moral qualities which contribute most to what is
usually called success in the world, they are probably courage, good
temper, thoughtfulness for others, perseverance, and trustworthiness.
And all this time I have said nothing of any use to be made of education
in earning a living. Yet is not that just what our education must do if
it is to be practical? I do not ignore this, and shall have more to say
of self-support elsewhere. But on the principle that we eat to live
rather than live to eat, I think even from a practical standpoint the
full development of a woman is of more consequence than the amount of
money she can earn. As far as the mere living goes, a practical woman
can live better on a little money than an unpractical one on much. When
her practicality comes from the high quality of her character, she will
lead the best possible life whether she be rich or poor, and I believe
the kind of culture I have outlined in this chapter will do something to
add happiness to goodness and usefulness.
IV.
SELF-SUPPORT.--SHALL GIRLS SUPPORT THEMSELVES?
I Once knew an agreeable girl whose great failing was her self-conceit.
She was sure she could do everything anybody could do. As she did not
look down on other people's efforts, she was amusing rather than
annoying. She was always ready to write a poem, or sing a song, or paint
a picture, and as she was a society girl and lived in a grand house, her
little doings were often favorably mentioned in the local papers, so she
may be pardoned for believing she had a variety of talents, though
nobody who read her poems or heard her songs agreed with her.
Then came a crisis in her affairs. She was thrown on her resources
without a moment's warning. She had to earn her living or starve. She
had plenty of energy, and was willing to work. She took a rapid review
of her powers. Then the scales fell from her eyes. She felt very
doubtful if there was one among her accomplishments which would furnish
bread for her. She would have said that all her conceit was gone. But
it was not so. As her need was so urgent, she tried to find work first
in one way and then in another. She was prepared to have the editors
reject her manuscripts, and she was not surprised that she could not
sell her pictures; but it was amazing to be told that her grammar and
spelling were faulty, and it was hard to see the amusement in the faces
of the art-dealers when they regarded her most cherished paintings.
No woman can earn a living without some mortifying experiences, but the
more conceited she is the more such experiences she meets, because she
is inclined to attempt things preposterously beyond her. So this poor
girl who had always held her head high was snubbed by everybody; she was
told the truth with brutal frankness, and in time she learned her
lesson. She was not a dull girl nor a weak girl. There was one thing she
could do well at the outset, though she had so little discrimination in
regard to herself that it did not occur to her that this would be her
lever for moving the world. She was a beautiful housekeeper.
She remembered this finally and acted accordingly. I cannot say that she
enjoyed her experience with a series of widowers, but she did her work
well and was paid for it. She also had a talent--strange to say it was
for drawing. She did not realize this either, for she could not
discriminate enough to see that her amateur work as an artist was at all
different from her amateur singing and playing. At first she had
thought she could do everything well, and then she thought she could do
nothing well. But by slow degrees, and through much tribulation, she
began to set her faculties in order, and when she found her germ of a
talent she cultivated it. Ten years later she was able to support
herself as an engraver.
By this time her one fault had vanished. She was simple and modest and
self-respecting, while she retained the courage and cheerfulness which
had made her attractive as a girl. "If you wish to cure a girl of
conceit," she once said to a friend, "let her try to earn her living. As
long as she does not ask to be paid, everybody will praise her work, but
let her offer to sell her services and then see!"
I have not told this story to discourage girls who wish to be
independent, but to show them the difficulties in their way. There is no
doubt that every girl should be able to support herself. This very case
makes it clear. But it does not seem to me equally clear that every girl
should support herself, and certainly, if she does, it requires great
judgment to select the way.
Fifty years ago women were very dependent, but now many avenues are open
to them, and perhaps they have been urged almost too much to earn their
own living. I will therefore speak of some circumstances in which it
seems to me a girl is to be excused from that.
1. If she is rich, I think there are two objections to her earning
money. One is trite and has been often answered. She should not take the
bread out of the mouths of those who need it. I do not think this a very
strong objection, because every one who works and produces anything adds
to the wealth of the world, and sets others free to work for new ends.
But one can do good service, without working for money, and, in point of
fact, a woman who chooses any of the common ways of earning money
usually does shut out some one else.
To illustrate: I knew two school-girls who were classmates, both
excellent girls. Martha was the best scholar in school. Lucy was rather
dull, though not conspicuously so. Martha wished to teach, as her mother
was a widow and poor. She applied for a situation in a neighboring town,
but was told that some one had been before her, and though the matter
was not then decided, the school was at last given to the first-comer,
who proved to be Lucy. Lucy's father was a well-to-do merchant whose
name was known to the committee, and this settled the question. Lucy
herself was quite innocent. She had no wish to interfere with Martha.
Nor had she any special wish to teach. But she wanted a new silk dress,
and she thought she should like to earn it. Her friends said she showed
the right spirit and encouraged her. Martha and her mother suffered the
most pinching poverty while Lucy was earning her dress, and when Martha
at last found a place she proved to be a wonderful teacher, while Lucy
was a commonplace one. It might, of course, have been the other way. If
Lucy had been the gifted girl, then she certainly ought to have used her
gifts, but not necessarily for money.
This is one of many instances which lead me to think that if girls who
are rich try to earn money they crowd out those who are poorer. They do,
however, gain some things so valuable as almost to offset this
objection; for instance, they are cured of conceit. I shall return to
this subject.
The other objection to the earning of money by the rich is, that there
is so much work to be done in the world which cannot in the nature of
things be done by those who have to earn their living, that the rich
cannot be spared for ordinary occupations. I shall give a special
chapter to the work of the leisure classes.
2. There are many families of moderate means where one daughter, at
least, can be supported at home without great sacrifices on the part of
any one. This is true of almost every family where a servant is kept,
for a mother and daughter together can usually do the work of a family
more quickly and better than the mother and a servant. Now, if a girl
has domestic tastes and is willing to work at home, it seems to me
better for her to stay there, even with very little money, than to try
to make herself independent elsewhere. If her tastes are not domestic,
it changes the case entirely. Then let her go out and use the powers
which have been given her.
3. A girl is sometimes needed at home by an invalid father or mother, or
she can help the children or make them happy. No general rule can be
laid down, because no two cases are alike, but it is often true that a
girl ought to give up not only earning money, but even using some of her
powers, for the sake of doing still better work at home. And there are
multitudes of instances in which she should not be urged to leave home
unless she wishes it.
Practically a home life is a good preparation for marriage, which will
be the lot of most girls. But though it is a good preparation, it is not
the best. Every girl needs a broader outlook on life than she can get in
her own home. If she is rich she can choose her way of getting it, by
travel, or in charities, or even through society. But the best knowledge
of the world is gained through the attempt to support herself. If her
occupation takes her into new sections of country, it also develops her
just as travel might do.
I am inclined to think that the ideal preparation for marriage would
demand half a dozen years between school and the wedding-day, divided
into three parts, given in order to a home life, to self-support, and to
travel.
It is often said that a girl ought actually to support herself before
she can be fitted to do so in case of an emergency. I remember the
daughter of a wealthy man who went into a counting-room and worked
several years for this reason. Her father said that as soon as she could
live on the income she earned he thought the experiment would have
succeeded and she might return home. At first it seemed as if it never
would succeed. She was a good accountant and earned a fair salary. But
she had been accustomed to spend more than most girls can earn, and she
was loth to reduce her expenses just when she was working for money. By
the end of the second year, however, she began to be tired of her work,
so she rigorously kept within her salary for the third year, and then
retired. Her experiment had been infinitely easier than if she had been
obliged to make it without having other resources, but she had learned
valuable lessons.
It seems to me that if a girl who need not work for money does so she
will do well to live on what she earns, at least for a time. To earn an
extra silk dress does not seem an adequate object. I think if our
accountant had gone on many years as she began she would not only have
taken the place needed by some one else, but she would have made other
accountants discontented because they could not dress as she did. She
would have raised the standard of luxury among them without adding
anything to their power to reach it.
I knew a young lady with a narrow income who for that reason chose to
teach in a large school where several other teachers were employed at
the same salary, namely, six hundred dollars. Everybody praised her
judgment and taste, for she appeared to be able to do so much more than
the rest with her money. Everybody said that six hundred dollars was a
fine salary for anybody who had the wit to use it. Some thought a
general reduction of salaries would not be amiss. Nobody knew of her
reserve. The other teachers tried their best to do as well, but they
grew discouraged and envious. Of course she was not to blame, but I
think that in general the common welfare is best served when the
wage-workers live on what they earn, at least while they are earning it.
The surplus can be laid aside for the time when they are at leisure.
But although I do not think that all girls should be urged to support
themselves, the majority must do so, or they will burden others. There
is also a large class of women who do not absolutely need to earn money,
who nevertheless will be better and happier to do so. Independence is
very sweet, and even if for love's sake a woman chooses to give it up,
it is more inspiring to make a deliberate sacrifice of it than to be
dependent because she must be. All homes are not happy, even where the
members of the family love each other and have a general purpose to do
right. Perhaps it may be said that few young people are satisfied
thoroughly with their homes. Would it not mean the destruction of the
ideal if they were? It would be terrible to them to have the home broken
up, and they do love their parents, but they think they could manage
better, and may be right in thinking so.
Now, if a girl at home has this feeling of unrest, she may be too ready
to marry the first suitor, because she thinks more about the ideal home
she can make than about the husband. If, on the contrary, she goes away
and earns her living, she will look around her with less prejudiced
eyes. If her home is really unhappy, she will be free from it. If its
troubles are merely superficial, she will find this out as soon as she
compares it with other homes. If she has not been willing to meet her
share of trial and responsibility, she will now find that a change of
place has not set her free, for the trouble was in herself. When she
does go back to her home it will be with very different appreciation of
it.
When a girl has become a woman her instinct leads her to long to be at
the head of her own home, whether she is married or unmarried. To be
absolute mistress even of one room in a lodging-house at the end of a
day's labor is often better to her than to be at the call of everybody
in her father's beautiful home where she is supposed to be at leisure
all day. And this is right. If a girl has been badly trained, how can
she help thinking she may do better than her mother does? If she has
been well trained, she ought to be able to do better than her mother,
for every generation begins at a higher point than the preceding. She
has much of her mother's experience to help her while she is still fresh
and strong and enthusiastic. There are very few women between the ages
of twenty-five and forty who can be thoroughly contented in any home of
which they are not the mistress, however patiently and nobly they may
conceal their feelings. After forty they are often so tired as to be
glad of any kind of a home.
Then there are women with special gifts. I am thinking now of one who
had a fortune, and yet chose to do the hard work of a physician. She had
the aptitude for the work and the means for thorough study. She was
among the most skillful physicians of her native city. She saved many
lives, and relieved much suffering. She gave her priceless services to
hundreds of poor people, but she did not give to those who could pay for
them. I think she was altogether right. The world was better because she
used her gift, and she was happier, as all are who exercise their
powers.
Perhaps she blocked the way of less fortunate physicians. But this was
because she gave a better gift than they could give. Certainly she had
a right to give it even to the rich whose money could only buy a part of
it. If she had served the rich without taking their money, she would not
only have sapped their self-respect, but she would have been a more
formidable obstacle in the way of poorer physicians. She would have been
offering a premium in money to those who employed her, whereas the only
premium she had a right to offer was her superior skill. It was because
she could give priceless services that she had so clear a right to fix a
price which she did not need.
Suppose another woman her equal by nature, but who had not had the means
for so complete an education, was set aside because she could not
compete with one who had both the nature and the education,--even then
the case would not be altered, for still the richer woman had a higher
gift to give than the poorer one. It would be a bitter trial to the
poorer woman to be met only by philosophy and religion; but if she were
a just woman, she could not say that her rich rival had not done right.
When a beautiful young society woman of Boston consents to play at a
concert every one feels it to be right, because few people can play so
exquisitely. When she gives her services for some charity there is an
especial fitness in it, since those who go to hear her wish to pay the
high prices for the rare treat, and would still wish to do so if she
were to keep the money for herself. But if she plays at a symphony
concert, she certainly has a right to be paid as others are. That is a
matter of self-respect. Why should she compete with other musicians on
any unnatural basis?
These instances will show what I mean by saying that a rich woman who
has a great gift has a right to use it in earning money, when if the
gift were smaller she might not be justified.
There are some qualities which are gained by self-support better than in
any other way. By receiving money in return for service, we learn what
our service is worth to others. We learn what we can do and what we
cannot do. We exchange self-conceit for self-respect. With a true
estimate of ourselves we learn how to estimate others more correctly. We
learn the real needs of the world and the way to meet them. In a word,
we learn justice.
It is generally supposed that the qualities in which men are superior to
women are justice and courage. Courage, too, is cultivated by
self-support. A woman who daily faces the outside world may not be
braver than one who faces the little world at home, but she probably
will be. At the last moment the woman at home may sometimes shirk a task
which seems formidable to her, though she may be ashamed of her
cowardice; but a woman who has agreed to do a certain thing for a
certain sum of money cannot shirk, however frightened she may be, and by
degrees she learns to subdue her terror and go cheerfully and calmly to
her work.