ARE MEN FAIR TO WOMEN?
'You are often writing about women,' fair correspondents keep writing to
me, 'sometimes praising them, often criticising them. Couldn't you now
and then tell us something of what you think of men, especially in their
relations with women? We know you to be fair, sometimes generous, always
good-humoured. Now, do have a try.'
The invitation is tempting and intended to be pleasant, and I yield to
it, not only without any reluctance, but with a good deal of pleasure.
To plunge _in medias res_, Are men fair to women? The laws, which are
made by men, the usages--everything is calculated to cause men to reduce
to a minimum the qualities, the intelligence, and the influence of
women.
For instance, let a woman make a reputation in art or literature, and
men begin to smile and shrug their shoulders: they dispute her talent.
I maintain, without much fear of contradiction, that a woman, in order
to succeed in a profession, must have ten times more talent than a man,
inasmuch as a man will have friends and comrades to help him, and a
woman only difficulties put in her way by man to surmount.
Man receives encouragements from all sides. If he is successful, he even
knows that his talent will receive official recognition. In France he
may become a member of the French Academy; in England, of the Royal
Academy. Orders will be given him by rich patrons, and 'orders'
conferred on him by sovereigns and statesmen.
Why should not women get all this? Why, simply because man, being both
'verdict' and 'execution,' has kept everything for himself. Personally,
I have no great liking for female genius--to my prejudiced mind a female
genius is a freak; but what I like or do not like is quite out of the
question. Here I state facts, and why women should not have as much
chance to prove their genius as men I should like to know.
Everybody knows that the famous School of Alexandria, in the fifth
century, had as orators and teachers the greatest philosophers and
theologians of the time, such men as St. Jerome, St. Cyril, etc.
Among these sublime intellects rose a young girl, twenty years old,
pure, radiantly beautiful, who modestly said to them:
'Please make room for me--hear me. I want my place in the glorious sun.'
She ascended the famous chair and began to explain before an
enthusiastic crowd the works of Plato and Aristotle. Her talent, her
learning, her eloquence astonished the people who thronged to hear young
and fair Hypatia, daughter of Theo.
Now, do you believe that all those learned, bearded philosophers and
theologians encouraged her, applauded her? No. History tells us they lay
in wait in a street where she used to pass, and when she appeared in her
chariot, resplendent with youth, beauty, and glory, acclaimed by the
crowd, they--St. Cyril and his companions--seized her, killed her, cut
her body in hundreds of pieces, which they threw to the four winds of
the earth.
Now, modern Hypatias are not treated quite so roughly by men, who
content themselves with turning them to ridicule, although I have heard
of some who did not hesitate in disposing of successful women's
reputations as the learned doctors of Alexandria disposed of the body of
Hypatia.
Women, perhaps unfortunately, cannot all be intended to be mothers, or
spend their lives mending socks and attending to spring house-cleaning.
Such women, who have received a high education, may not feel inclined to
be shop-girls, ladies'-maids, or cooks. If they feel that they have
talent, and can paint or write successfully, every man ought to give
them a helping hand.