INVOLUNTARY CELIBACY
Modern England has for many generations been a place so unhealthy for
the young that a vast problem has grown up in our midst which seriously
disturbs the normal adjustment of sex relationships. It would seem to
have been Nature's intention that there should be slightly more men
than women in the world, for boy babies outnumber girl babies
[Footnote: The actual figures are 1052 boy babies to 1000 girl babies.]
What it would mean if there were more adult men than women in the world
it is hard to imagine. It would at once have enormous social
consequences. No woman would remain a celibate except by her own
choice. Men would have to behave themselves in order to win wives, and
would cease to occupy the demoralizing position of being able to get
wives whenever they want them. It would in fact mean a new world in
many ways.
As things are, however, the unhealthy conditions of modern life produce
a greater mortality among boy babies than among girl babies, and males
come to be in a minority. This state of affairs has been greatly
aggravated by the war, but it was serious even before 1914. It was then
the case that the women outnumbered the men by about a million. The
number must be nearer a million and a half to-day.
The result is that over a million women have to face the prospect of a
life in which their most deeply implanted instincts--the instincts for
wifehood and motherhood--cannot find their normal satisfaction, and the
problem thus created is one of the most difficult in the whole of life.
It is, of course, nothing less than insulting nonsense to talk about
these women as "superfluous women." Behind the very phrase there lurks
the old delusion that women are only needed in the world as wives
and mothers. As a matter of fact a great deal of the work that is most
needed in our civilization--work in education, art, literature,
nursing, social service, and other departments of life--is being done
by these women.
But while that is true it is also true that the personal life of the
unmarried woman presents acute problems of a most intricate kind.
Probably only a woman can truly understand those problems or justly
estimate their urgency, but no man with any insight or sympathy can
fail to know that the lot of the unmarried woman involves secret
stresses, unsatisfied yearnings, and sometimes hours of dark
depression. She may be unmarried because she has persistently refused
to try to be satisfied with any second best. As a witty woman friend of
mine once put it, she may be unmarried because "the attainable was not
desirable and the desirable was not attainable." She may be unmarried
because a very true lover of early days went on before, and she has
never felt able to put anyone else in his place. Or she may have loved
truly some man who loved another. Or nothing may ever have happened
to awaken conscious love in her, in which case it is still possible
that her nature may cry out at times for the satisfaction of its
primary needs. And while all this is true, she is conventionally
supposed never to show by any sign that she would have liked to be
married. However much she may suffer it is held unseemly for her to
show that she suffers, or to ask for sympathy. She is often, and I
think quite indefensibly, denied by social convention the stimulus of
any really intimate friendships with men. She is made the subject of
uncounted third-rate jokes. And if, as life goes on, she develops
peculiarities of manner or asperities of temper--if she begins to lose
vitality and grace, these things are noted with contempt by people who
little imagine how much real heroism may lie concealed in the object of
their scorn. I believe, however, that I speak for a very large number
of men when I confess that nothing kindles in me quite the same
flame of resentment at things as they are, as just this fact that so
many gracious and kindly women, plainly made for motherhood and fitted
for a fine part in life, should find themselves held in the clutches of
this insistent problem.
It may well help all such to realize the fact stated above, namely,
that the problem is no part of the eternal and designed order of
things, but one of the results of our social misbehavior. In a very
real sense the women who suffer in this matter suffer vicariously for
the sins of all society. It is not they who are guilty, but all
mankind. For all who mean resolutely to face the problem and to win
through to victory, it is first of all essential that they should
realize the fact that their acute depressions and their restlessness of
mind have really a quite well-defined physical and psychological cause.
Somewhere between twenty-five and thirty-five these depressions often
become very acute, so that the whole horizon of life is darkened.
Sensitive women often torment themselves by wondering what they have
done that is wrong, for of course all depression is apt to take the
form of a sense of wrongdoing. Further, at this period the religious
sensibilities of many seem to suffer eclipse. They can no longer
respond in feeling to any of the sublime religious truths. They find
they cannot pray. Nothing seems to matter. The memory of earlier days
when life seemed bright and religious faith was confident seems only to
mock them. Many are beset by definite intellectual difficulties and so
are tempted to a general cynicism. Envy of others will suggest itself,
and though it be sternly repressed, it still adds to the general
strain, while good advice from others will seem just the last straw
which cannot be borne.
But one half of this problem has disappeared at once for many from the
day when they faced the plain truth that the cause of trouble is
physical. Physiological processes with certain inevitable psychological
accompaniments are at the bottom of it. Because their natures have not
received their natural fulfillment a complicated situation has arisen
which cannot be easily lived through, though it may be in the end
triumphantly controlled. And if it helps ordinary people to learn that
sometimes when they seem to be suffering from a sense of sin they are
really only being plagued by indigestion, it may very much more help
women in this difficult period to know that they are only going through
an inevitable physical readjustment. What is happening is that sexual
desire--it may be in vague, unconscious, and very general forms--is
asserting itself. Nothing could be more absurd than to suggest that
there is anything wrong or immodest in that fact. It is quite
inevitable. Indeed, the first step out of the trouble lies in accepting
the fact and then in considering how it is to be dealt with.
What is the way out of this difficult bit of life? All said that can be
said about the physical and psychological causes, a very real problem
remains. There must be a way of meeting it which ends in complete
victory, for women who have come through it victoriously are to be
found on all hands. What has been the secret of their victory? I prefer
to let a woman begin the answer. "I think," writes one, "that the only
possible thing for such women to do is to have their eyes fixed on God,
and to know that in some mysterious and wonderful way He understands
and meets all our needs. I think it needs a definite act--of our wills,
our intellects, and our emotions--an act of consecration and
self-offering to God, and until that is done there will be no peace."
And then, after expressing her conviction as to the insufficiency of
the policy of mere sublimation she continues, "I really believe that
for women a real act of surrender--a joyful offering to God--is the
only way."
I am sure the ultimate wisdom about this whole matter is contained in
those sentences, and I am sure because there are numerous other
departments of life in which similar problems assail both men and
women, and in relation to which the way of self-surrender is the only
possible way to life.
After all, it is not only unmarried women who have to face the
experience of wanting passionately something which they cannot have. In
various forms that challenge comes to most men and women whether
married or not. Our desires demand one thing, and life with its
imperious authority offers something different; and it is perhaps in
that way that most of us come to the crisis of our lives. It is easy to
break oneself against a situation of that sort. It is easy to spoil
life completely by an obstinate concentration on the object that is
being withheld--to lose life by insisting on finding it in one's own
chosen way. Men and women alike make shipwreck of their lives in that
way every year.
But there is another way. Our real life is life in God, and the way
into it is always the way of surrender. To say with utter sincerity and
absence of self-will, "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?" is to begin
to find deliverance at once. We could not and should not surrender thus
to anybody else. He alone perfectly understands. But when we have put
ourselves into His hands without reserve, immediately life begins to
arrange itself. With such surrender there comes a peace which nothing
else can bring. I say it with acute sympathy for all strong-willed,
high-spirited people, for whom surrender is very difficult. But I say
it with an assurance that is based upon the unanimous verdict of the
souls of all history who have found life. "I have learned," said one
much harassed and persecuted man, "in whatsoever state I am therein
to be content." He was content because in whatsoever state he might be
he was always in the fellowship of God, and therefore in enjoyment of
his essential life. He knew himself secure whatever life might bring,
and even though life itself should end. He was inwardly in a state of
profound peace and spiritual freedom, and that is why all the gracious
powers of his humanity were able to find free and beautiful expression.
So it must be with all of us. We find our real life, and we become
masters or mistresses in life only when we have given in and allowed
the love of God to direct and sustain us. For the particular problem
dealt with in this chapter and for all other painful and pressing
problems of life, the way of victory is to seek and find the life that
is hid with Christ in God.
* * * * *
No doubt at this point two questions will arise in the minds of some.
Firstly, some will want to say, "All that is very well for those who
are religious, but how about the people who are not religious?" I have
no answer to that question, because I believe there is none. Religion
is not a sort of hobby that just seems to suit certain peculiar people.
It is a prime necessity for all of us. In a great many other
connections it becomes increasingly plain to all who have eyes to see
that there is no solution for the problem of life except the one which
God Himself offers to all seeking souls. We may refuse to seek Him, but
in so doing we close the prison doors against ourselves. I am not
surprised that in studying the problems of sex I find no answer to the
most acute of them apart from religion. That is what I should expect.
Is it likely that men and women who were made for God should ever find
any lasting satisfaction or any way to victory in life apart from Him?
And indeed, in the particular connection I am now writing about, it is
the fact that not a few women have lived to be almost thankful for the
problem of involuntary celibacy that once confronted them in so
menacing a way. It threw them back on God, and their experience of Him
has been so rich that they are thankful for the compulsion that drove
them into His fellowship.
There is no mysterious hunger in the inner life of any woman--no
restless longing ever torments her--no painful stresses ever make her
life seem difficult--no weary loneliness ever makes the world seem
desolate, but He understands--perfectly and utterly. And if it be love
that a woman longs for, there is no love like unto His love--perfect in
tenderness, in understanding and in power. Yes, God Himself is the
final answer to the problem of all lives that here seem to be
unfulfilled, whether they be lives of men or women.
The other question that will be raised will be put in these words: "You
have said that in the dark hours that come to so many women religious
feeling seems to be suspended, and yet you go on to say that the way of
escape lies in religion," I know that what I have written may seem for
this reason utterly tantalizing to some. I know that in general it is
in times when we most need religion that it is apt to seem most remote
from us. Most of us have been in that dilemma. But there is a way out.
It consists partly in remembering that religion is not only a matter of
feeling, and that when feeling fails us the mind and will remain. But
it consists still more in remembering that religion is not so much our
affair as God's. God does not only answer the prayers of people who are
feeling religious. If religion be what the experience of thousands
declares it is, then we have reason to expect that our seeking of God
will have results even when our emotions seem dead. We can at least
direct our thought life. We can set ourselves towards Him by the
deliberate direction of attention. We can think the true and right
thoughts. And in that way a religion begins to come into life
that is tenfold more abiding and sustaining than any religion that is a
mere matter of feeling. It may need rigid self-discipline and really
hard work thus to direct attention and attain to a regulated thought
life. But then, I am not suggesting that there is an easy way through
this problem. There is a way, and a way that leads to real victory; but
it is no more easy than any other path that leads to a great goal.
I should like further to draw on the experience of women themselves to
add some additional suggestions born of common sense and experiment. A
very wise woman once supplied through me some hints to one who was
going through this difficult period, and I am sure her hints are worth
passing on to others. She insisted that no woman at this stage should
attempt to live alone. Healthy friendship with other women is one of
the greatest possible helps to success. As I have noted in a previous
chapter, there is a danger that lurks not far away in this connection.
But too much cannot be said of the helpful and bracing influence of
friendships that are kept really healthy. Then, it is a mistake for
women to live in institutions when that can be avoided. It really
helps to have some room or rooms in the care of which the home-making
instinct can find expression, and which may thus become a means to
self-expression. More important still, my friend insisted that it is
better at this period to work with people than with things. Other
people always tend to draw us out of ourselves, if we will allow that
to happen. They make demands on our affections. They keep us in touch
with real life and its vast variety of emotions and interests. They
make self-forgetfulness possible. Further, it is important for such
women--as important as for all other people--to learn the truth that
the way to win love is to give it. When people suffer tortures of
loneliness it is essentially loneliness of heart. Like all other normal
persons they long to be loved. But nothing is more futile in such a
situation than simply to sit down and wait for someone to come along
and love us. That way lies despair. What we can do is to awaken to
the fact that all around us are people who also long to be loved, and
that we have love to give them if we will but be generous. They may not
seem very attractive people, but in that case they only need our love
the more. Is it not being loved that makes people lovely! And when
women rouse themselves to use their own love generously for others,
they begin--always--to find the doors of deliverance opening.
A further very great step will have been taken when it is realized that
the life force which is not going to have its normal and natural outlet
need not on that account be wasted. It can be directed to other ends
with enormous benefit to the world. I cannot hope to say anything on
this point one-half so adequate or so helpful as the chapter Miss
Royden has already written in _Sex and Common Sense_. Out of the
fullness of knowledge she has gained by an amazingly sensitive sympathy
she has there written the best account I have ever seen of how thwarted
sex emotion can be sublimated to other ends, and made an immensely
effective force for the progress of the race. In both men and women
sexuality is just life force. If the natural method of expression be
denied to it, it will still seek out ways in which to express itself.
If it has been merely repressed unwillingly and incompletely the
results, as the psychologists are telling us, are apt to be disastrous.
But if the situation is openly faced, and honestly accepted--if a
conscious surrender of the normal sex career be achieved--then it is
possible to utilize the life force that springs from our sex natures
for great physical, mental, or emotional activities, and that without
any of the evil results that follow from mere repression. In fact by
living an abundant life in natural, useful, and absorbing ways the
problem becomes capable of a truly happy solution.
I have written the word "happy" deliberately. But I am not sure that at
first this way out will seem happy. Useful it certainly will be, but
all said and done I fancy that some residue of regret will be apt to
remain, and that because of it women will be tempted to indulge in
self-pity. And self-pity both for men and women is the most enervating
of all emotional luxuries. Therefore, I wish to insert here a word of
grateful testimony. If the sublimation of sex instinct seems to some
women a poor and pale substitute for the normal career of marriage and
motherhood, I am at least sure that for society at large it is a very
blessed substitute. My chief experience of life has been in those
places called slums, where life is always seen in its most drab and
pitiful guise, and I can speak with certainty about this problem in
relation to them. In the districts in which I have worked there have
always been at least a few unmarried women who were spending with
lavish generosity their whole life force in practical service and
sympathy for needy children, harassed mothers, wayward men, and the
sufferers of the district in general. No members of the human race are
living anywhere with greater effect. No other women are called blessed
with greater sincerity. Half a dozen in particular I can think of who
in this way have done more for the redemption of society in such places
than a score of happily married mothers could have accomplished. I do
not know whether they feel that the sublimation of their instincts has
been a complete success, but I do know that hundreds of grateful people
have no doubt about it whatever. The whole world in its modern guise is
crying out for such services as women alone can render, and if, on the
one hand, women are the chief sufferers through the confusions of human
affairs, they have at least a wonderful chance of finding and applying
the remedy. The world can never make good to them the wrong it has done
them; yet they may, if they will, put the world inexpressibly in their
debt. No doubt mankind does not deserve it, but the one perfect lover
in history was willing to die for an undeserving world. It can never be
other than a great calling to follow where He leads the way.
A woman of great experience tells me that here I ought to suggest that
in that minority of cases where it is possible, an unmarried woman may
with great advantage adopt a child. There are many children in the
world to-day without parents, and these children have a greatly
lessened chance of life. But when one of these children is adopted in
the way suggested a great benefit is brought firstly to the child,
secondly to society, and thirdly to the woman herself, who thus
acquires a worthy object for all the passionate devotion she possesses.
Having known this plan adopted in several instances, I have wondered
why it is not more common, at least when financial considerations make
it a possibility.
No doubt to take this course or any of the other courses here suggested
will need courage. But all successful ways of life need courage. Life
itself is a challenging summons to courage. There is no happy way
through for those who sit down in fear or who give in to their own
distresses. Fate is a tyrant only to those who will not face him with
spirit. A full and satisfying life has to be snatched from under the
enemy's guns, but it can be so snatched. Neither men nor women need
give in though often defeated. "Unconquering but unconquered" may be
the best motto that we can hope to deserve, but for all those who
inscribe it on their banners a strange happiness does creep into the
soul.