I will consider these in order—

(1.) Prejudice is slowly dying out, but indifference remains. Educated

men who can help, who _would_ help if they knew the need, have not yet

learnt that need. I do not blame them with any bitterness. There has

been enough already of bitterness on the one side and of levity on the

other. But an acknowledgment of past error lies at the base of every

true reform. Let that be acknowledged here, which every thoughtful

observer must see, that through all ages of the world’s history the more

powerful sex have been liable to use their power carelessly, not for

protection only, but for pain. So comes it that at this day just and

chivalrous men find themselves, (as Lord Palmerston said of the Emperor

of Russia), “born to a heritage of wrong and oppression.” They cannot,

if they would, at once alter the structure of the society around them.

But even of these just men I complain that they _do not see_. If they

saw, they would act; and ought they not to see? Our best men too often

know nothing of the lives of any women except those with whom they are

immediately connected, and whom they guard in comfort and ease. They do

not think of those who sit in cold and want outside. Many a

tender-hearted but not large-hearted man, on hearing some hint of

hardships among women outside his own circle, thanks God that _his_ dear

wife or daughter is exempted from them, and so dismisses the subject.

When once such men are brought to see and to feel, we invariably find

them _more_ indignant than women themselves, who are well schooled in

patience. Much of this misery is strange and unknown to men, and was

certainly never designed by them. The old social order has changed,

giving place to the new, but women have fallen out of line with the

onward movement, fettered by their own cowardice and the careless

selfishness of men. Custom and use press heavily on women, they endure

long before they dare to think whether the system under which they

suffer is a right or a wrong one, whether their burdens be removable or

no,—whether, in short, they have fallen into the hands of God or man.

Even when they are fully persuaded that their burdens are removable,

they have no voice to raise. They are unrepresented, and the interests

of the unrepresented always tend to be overlooked.

(2.) The exclusion of women from trades is in most cases notoriously

based upon a coarse selfishness. Take the instance of the china painters

at Worcester. “It appears that both men and women are employed in this

art, but that the women having excited the jealousy of the men by

surpassing them in skilful execution, and consequently earning better

wages, were by them forcibly deprived of the maulsticks on which it is

necessary to rest the wrist while painting. Thus the women are at once

rendered incapable of any fine work, and can only be employed in the

coarser kinds of painting. The masters submit to this tyranny, though to

their own disadvantage, being probably afraid of a strike or riot if

they resist, and the women are forced to yield from the fear of personal

violence from their less skilful but heavier-fisted rivals. This story

appeared in the _Edinburgh Review_ for 1859, and it is surprising that

it did not excite more general indignation.” The conduct of the

Apothecaries’ Company is worse than that of the china painters, inasmuch

as doctors have not the excuse of indigence to justify their

exclusiveness. The _Daily News_, in a recent article, concludes an

account of some of the proceedings of that body with these words:—“We

recommend these facts to the good people who think that coercion,

restriction, and the tyranny of combination are peculiar to any one

class of society. It will be a great day in England when the right of

every individual to make the most of the ability which God has given

him, free from interested interference, is recognised, and to that goal

we are surely advancing; but our progress is slow, and it is very clear

that it is not only in the lower ranks of the community that the

obstructive trades’ union spirit is energetically operating.”

The chivalry, or the justice of educated men could scarcely be brought

to bear upon a subject where chivalry and justice are needed more. In

this matter, of the bad effects of trades’ unions, much may be hoped for

from the known character of working men themselves, as a class. They are

not wanting in justice, in tenderness of heart, and in a shrewd

perception of right and wrong when they are placed before them: but they

need enlightenment and instruction,—and they wait for it,—from those who

are their superiors in education and trained intelligence. Untold good

might be done, and much future misery averted, if those among our

leading men who have the ear and the confidence of working men would

(themselves first instructed) bring before them fairly and patiently,

such subjects as these. Economics lie at the very root of practical

morality, and it is to be hoped that men of influence, and genius, and

experience of life, will address themselves gravely to the task of

instructing the working classes on this most grave subject.

The common objection brought before the Society for promoting the

Employment of Women, is that a risk would be thus incurred of decreasing

the employment of men. Now, in the first place, this is by no means

certain. No one proposes to interfere with the men at present working at

any trade; but while the demand for young men at high wages in the

colonies continues practically unlimited, it may be questioned whether

the admission to a sedentary employment at home is not a pitfall as

often as an advantage. Many a young man would be healthier and happier

at some manly trade in Canada or Australia, than in standing behind an

English counter or plaiting straw. To take only the trades connected

with women’s dress and such matters, the census of 1861 gives the

following numbers of _men_ employed in trades, some of which would seem

as distinctly appropriate to the one sex, as soldiering and sailoring to

the other.

Males.

[3]Mercers, Drapers, and Linen Drapers 45,660

Hair Dressers and Wig Makers 10,652

Haberdashers and Hosiers 4,327

Straw Hat and Bonnet Makers 1,687

Washermen and Laundry Keepers 1,165

Stay and Corset Makers 884

Milliners and Dress Makers 803

Artificial Flower Makers 761

Berlin Wool Dealers 63

Artists in Hair—Hair Workers 42

Baby Linen Makers 13

——————

66,057

Disabilities of sex are parallel to disabilities of creed, and the

economical results are likely to be the same. Silk weaving was driven

_into_ England by the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, and I believe

that now several light trades are being driven _out of_ England by the

industrial proscription of women. “But supposing,” says Miss Boucherett,

“that the competition for employment were so great that whatever was

added to the prosperity of one sex must be deducted from that of the

other, is it just that the whole of the suffering thus caused should be

laid upon the weaker half of humanity? How great a contrast is there

between the spirit of Christianity, and the course of conduct too

frequently pursued in this our country!”

“Be just before you are chivalrous,” many a woman is tempted to exclaim,

when she finds every door through which she might pass to a subsistence,

closed in her face with expressions of deference. Signs have not been

wanting which have justified the saying “that a selfish disregard of the

interests of women, and indifference to their sufferings, is the great

national sin of England,—and all national sins, if unrepented, meet with

their punishment sooner or later.”

(3.) The defective training of the women themselves is the most serious

of all the hindrances which I have been considering. Here it is that the

vicious circle returns upon itself. These women cannot teach, because

they are so ill educated, and again, they are so ill educated that they

can do nothing _but_ teach.[4] Many a woman rejected from the shop-till

or housekeeper’s room for ignorance and inefficiency, is compelled to

offer herself among the lowest class of nursery governesses, or, failing

all, to embrace the career, the avenues to which stand ever wide open,

yawning like the gates of hell, when all other doors are closed.

The fault of this defective training lies mainly with the middle-class

parents who, as the Endowed Schools Commissioners say plainly enough,

educate their daughters to get husbands, and for nothing else.

Education was what the slave-owners most dreaded for their slaves, for

they knew it to be the sure road to emancipation. It is to education

that we must first look for the emancipation of women from the

industrial restrictions of a bye gone age. In the meantime I may surely

say that no lover of his country, of justice or of God, can see this

misery unmoved. “He looked for judgment, but behold oppression, for

righteousness, but behold a cry.”

I sometimes hear it said “I am weary of this question of the rights, or

the wrongs, of women.” Undoubtedly there are many who are quickly weary

of any thought which is perplexing or painful: nevertheless the facts

remain the same—that women constitute one half of the human race, that

whatever effects them, for good or evil, affects not one half, but the

whole of the human race, and that the _primary_ education of all

generations of men rests in the hands of women.

There are two classes of advocates of the improvement of the education

and condition of women. The one class urge everything from the domestic

point of view. They argue in favour of all which is likely to make women

better mothers, or better companions for men, but they seem incapable of

judging of a woman as a human being by herself, and superstitiously

afraid of anything which might strengthen her to stand alone, prepared,

singlehanded, to serve her God and her country. When it is urged upon

them that the women who do and must stand alone are counted by millions,

they are perplexed, but only fell back on expressions of a fear lest a

masculine race of women should be produced, if we admit any theories

respecting them apart from conjugal and maternal relationships.

On the other hand, there are advocates who speak with some slight

contempt of maternity, in whose advocacy there appears to me little

evidence of depth of thought, or tenderness, or wisdom, and which

bespeaks a dry, hard, unimaginative conception of human life. They

appear to have no higher ideal for a woman than that of a _man_ who has

been “tripos’ed,” and is going to “get on in the world,” either in the

way of making money or acquiring fame. They speak of women as if it were

a compliment to them, or in any way true, to say that they are like men.

Now it appears to me that both these sets of advocates have failed to

see something which is very true, and that their ears are deaf to some

of the subtle harmonies which exist in God’s creation—harmonies

sometimes evolved from discords—and which we are much hindered from

hearing by the noise of the world, and by our own discordant utterances.

The first class of advocates do not know how strong Nature is, how true

she is for the most part, and how deeply the maternal character is

rooted in almost all women, married or unmarried: they are not,

therefore, likely to see that when a better education is secured to

women, when permission is granted them not only to win bread for

themselves, but to use for the good of society, every gift bestowed on

them by God, we may expect to find, (as certainly we shall find,) that

they will become the _more_ and not the _less_ womanly. Every good

quality, every virtue which we regard as distinctively feminine, will,

under conditions of greater freedom, develop more freely, like plants

brought out into the light from a cellar in which they languished,

dwarfed and blanched, without sun or air. The woman is strong in almost

every woman; and it may be called an infidelity against God and against

the truth of nature to suppose that the removal of unjust restrictions,

and room given to breathe freely, and to do her work in life without

depression and without bitterness, will cause her to cast off her

nature. It will always be in her nature to foster, to cherish, to take

the part of the weak, to train, to guide, to have a care for

individuals, to discern the small seeds of a great future, to warm and

cherish those seeds into fulness of life. “I serve,” will always be one

of her favourite mottos, even should the utmost freedom be accorded her

in the choice of vocation; for she, more readily perhaps than men do,

recognises the wisdom and majesty of Him who said—“I am among you as he

that serveth.” In Him,—“in Christ Jesus,” says the apostle, “there is

neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free; there is neither

male nor female.” It has been the tendency of Christianity, gradually

and slowly, to break down all unfriendly barriers between races, and to

extinguish slavery; and last of all it will—this is our hope—remove

disabilities imposed by the stronger portion of society upon the weaker.

What do we lose by the abandonment of national exclusiveness? Is labour

demoralized because slaves are free? Does _service_ cease when servitude

is at an end? Common sense alone, without the help of historical

knowledge, might lead us to suppose that women will not do their

_special_ work in the world worse, but better, when justice shall be

done them.[5] It is in the name of _Christ_ that the removal of burdens

and disabilities is preached: much wisdom might be learned regarding

some of these matters if people would look more closely at this, and

note that this is the Person in whom all virtues which are considered

essentially womanly, as well as those which are considered essentially

manly, found their perfect development. A little meditation on this

double truth—that in Christ all distinctions are done away, and that in

Him, nevertheless, were exhibited in perfect beauty the distinctive

virtues of the feminine character—would suggest some lessons which the

world has been very slow to learn, would tend to remove groundless fears

regarding the consequences of the abandonment of many unreasonable and

unchristian theories which prevail, and to counteract the materialistic

doctrine which has sunk too deep into the heart of our so-called

Christian community, a doctrine which amounts to this, that “the weaker

races, classes, persons must struggle on unaided, and if they are

trampled down and die out, the fact proves that it is better for the

world that they should perish, so only a stronger and higher stock will

remain;”[6] a doctrine of which we see the fruits in our wickednesses in

Asia, &c., and which takes its stand on a supposed “law of nature” that

the weak must go down.

The tone in which certain foolish popular writers speak of unmarried and

childless women betrays both coarseness of feeling and ignorance. They

speak of these women as having altogether missed their vocation, and as

necessarily dwarfed in affection and motive, because they have not

performed certain physical functions. We are all mothers or

foster-mothers. The few exceptions to this rule,—the cases in which the

maternal feelings are weak or wanting,—are to be found among mothers of

families as well as among childless women. I have known many unmarried

women in whom all the best characteristics of maternity are stronger

than in some who are actually mothers. It would be wise of the State to

avail itself of this abundance of generous womanliness, of tender and

wise motherliness which lives in the hearts of thousands of women who

are free to bring their capacities to bear where they are most needed.

The country counts by tens of thousands its orphan and outcast children,

in workhouses, and in the streets of our great cities. These orphans

have lately been called “the children of the State:” for the care of

these children of the State alone, mothers and nurses of the State are

needed, women who must be free to some extent from domestic ties of

their own. These workhouse children are not likely to grow up to be

useful to the country or other than dangerous classes, while they are

left wholly to the mercy of vulgar, uneducated people.[7]

Leon Fauchat exclaimed, when told of crimes committed in our country

against children,—“Est-il possible que ces choses soient permises par

une nation qui a des entrailles!” “Take heed that ye offend not one of

these little ones,” are words of most solemn import: when women begin to

deserve and acquire more weight in the community, the warning contained

in them will be better understood. The interests of children will not

remain unrepresented any longer than women remain so. I say this with

certainty, knowing the nature of woman. It will not be left to an

indignant father, or philanthropist, or to an impassioned poetess, at

long intervals to translate in the ears of the public the inarticulate

cry of the children:

“They are weeping in the playtime of the others,

In the country of the free,

For the man’s grief abhorrent, draws and presses

Down the cheeks of infancy.”

· · · · ·

“They look up with their pale and sunken faces,

And their look is dread to see,

For they mind you of their Angels in their places,

With eyes meant for Deity:

‘How long,’ they say, ‘how long, O cruel nation,

Will you stand, to move the world, on a child’s heart,

Stifle down with a mailed heel its palpitation,

And tread onward to your throne amid the mart?

Our blood splashes upwards, O our tyrants,

And your purple shows your path;

_But the child’s sob curseth deeper in the silence

Than the strong man in his wrath_.’”

The ears of my reader would not endure to hear what I could tell, what

my eyes have seen, of outraged innocence, of horrors and miseries

endured among the children of the poor. I am not unmindful of the

benevolent enterprise there is in our country, the orphanages, schools

and homes springing up everywhere. God be thanked for these! but they do

not yet meet the evil; and we must remember that stone walls do not shut

out crime, nor regulations confer blessing; these institutions

themselves fail in their purpose unless the compassionate motive which

originated them be sustained in a constant and abundant flow. The

histories of many charities in foreign countries and at home prove that

institutions devised by loving hearts for protection and blessing, have

become, for lack of the constancy of the internal impulse, neither more

nor less than “habitations of cruelty.” What I here complain of is the

thriftless waste of good feelings, of emotion,—emotion which on the one

hand is ill trained, and consequently takes a false or unreal direction,

and on the other is wearing itself out, unclaimed. Tears shed over

sentimental works of fiction or some imaginative woe might well be

bestowed on the realities around us. Surely there is room enough among

_them_ for the promptings of a mighty compassion! Surely there is cause

enough _here_ for tears! “Mine eye runneth down with rivers of water for

the destruction of the daughter of my people.”

And there is other work on every side waiting to be done by women,—the

work of healers, preachers, physicians, artists, organizers of labour,

captains of industry, &c., while on the other hand women are waiting to

be prepared for service, and ready to bridge over, as they alone can,

many a gulf between class and class which now presents a grave obstacle

to social and political progress.

The second kind of advocacy of the rights of women, of which I spoke,

may be said to be simply a reaction against the first. It is chiefly

held by a few women of superior intellect who feel keenly the

disadvantages of their class, their feebleness, through want of

education, against public opinion, which is taken advantage of by base

people, their inability, through want of representation, to defend their

weaker members, and the dwarfing of the faculties of the ablest and best

among them. These women have associated little with men, or at best,

know very little of their inner life, and do not therefore see as

clearly as they see their own loss, the equal loss that it is to men,

and the injury it involves to their characters, to live dissociated from

women: they therefore look forth from their isolation with something of

an excusable envy on the freer and happier lot, which includes, they

believe, a greater power to do good, and imagine that the only hope for

themselves is to push into the ranks of men, to demand the same

education, the same opportunities, in order that they may compete with

them on their own ground. They have lost the conception of the noblest

development possible for both men and women; for assuredly that which

men, for the most part, aim at, is not the noblest, and yet that is what

such women appear to wish to imitate; they have lost sight of the truth,

too, that men and women were made equal indeed, but not alike, and were

meant to supplement one another, and that in so doing,—each supplying

force which the other lacks,—they are attracted with a far greater

amount of impulse to a common centre. When St. Chrysostom preached in

Constantinople, that “men ought to be pure, and women courageous,” he

was treated as a dangerous innovator, a perverter of the facts of

nature, a changer of customs. I hope that many such innovators will

arise, who will shew forth in practice the possibility of the attainment

of a common standard of excellence for man and woman, not by usurpation

on either hand, nor by servile imitation, but by the action of each upon

each, by mutual teaching and help. The above misconception, like many

other errors, results from men and women living so dissociated as they

do in our country; hence comes also all that reserve, and incapacity for

understanding each other which has existed between the sexes for so many

generations, those false notions about women which are entertained in

society, and great injury to the work, and happiness, and dignity of man

and woman alike: for it may be truly said that many of the most serious

evils in England are but the bitter and various fruit of the

sacreligious disjoining of that which God had joined together, the

disunion of men and women, theoretically and practically, in all the

graver work of life.

The following account of the School of Art, in Newman Street, London, is

interesting, as affording some illustration of this subject. Mrs.

Heatherley writes, “This School was begun on the separate principle,

about twenty-three years ago, by Mr. James Mathews Leigh. I first knew

the place in 1848, when I studied as an amateur. Mr. Leigh, whilst

agreeing to the idea of mixed classes as a theory, always declared that

the men’s conduct and conversation would render it impossible for any

lady to come amongst them, and they were certainly very rough in manner

when, after Mr. Leigh’s death, we took the school. We were warned that

we should be ruined by introducing the mixed system. Very soon both

parties found the convenience of studying in the Gallery every day,

instead of having to take their places on alternate days. Finding it

succeed, at the end of 1861 we admitted ladies to the evening school:

there are about two hundred students in the course of the year. Great

individual freedom is allowed, and a most friendly feeling exists

amongst the students. Every one who knew the place before the admission

of women agrees that there has been great improvement; quite another

tone prevails. We have never had to dismiss anyone for conduct that was

disapproved. From here went the first ladies to the Royal Academy, one

of whom, a girl of about twenty-one, gained the gold medal, last

December, for the best historical picture. As a general rule, where

there are equal facilities, the women are the most successful. The

Academy ceased to admit them when their numbers reached about twelve,

and now takes them in only when the time of studentship of others

expires. They made this change at the end of two years, without giving

any notice here or at any other school, to the great disappointment of a

number of girls. This I think is an act of hardship, as there has been

shown positively that no incompetence exists. Unless there be chances

offered to women of being able to follow a profession, parents will

invest in consols, as a general rule, rather than in a superior

education. The mention of our school may be useful, because there are

doubts in many minds as to the expediency of free intercourse between

young people, and facts are better than theories. The more that is done

to bring young men and women together in a rational manner, the sooner

we may hope to arrive at a social state less immoral than the present.”

I am persuaded that anyone who will candidly and carefully consider the

histories of separate communities of men or women, for educational or

other purposes, must see that the evils attendant on such a system as

they represent outweigh its conveniences. The arrangement is for a given

period, but not so the evils which accompany it, for they,—and of this

men are not ignorant,—too often leave their effects, I may say their

curse, throughout life. The objection rises at once of the difficulty of

adopting any other arrangement than the present, which may be called an

unnatural one. This objection will be more effectually met by facts than

by reasoning, and in time facts will speak for themselves, while up to

the present they attest that whenever the experiment of a different

system has been tried, the difficulties have been found to be very much

less than it was believed they would be, before the trial was made.

To conclude this part of my subject, although I grant that too much

stress cannot be laid upon the improvement of the education of women who

will be actually the mothers of a future generation, yet I wish, on the

one hand, that persons who only look at it from this point of view would

take more into account the valuable service our country might command if

it but understood the truth about the condition and feelings of its

unmarried women, and that a more generous trust were felt in the

strength of woman’s nature, and the probable direction of its

development when granted more expansion, while on the other hand I

should like to see a truer conception of the highest possibilities for

women than is implied in the attempt to imitate men, and a deeper

reverence for the God of nature, whose wisdom is more manifested in

variety than in uniformity. It cannot be denied that a just cause has

sometimes been advocated by women in a spirit of bitterness. Energy

impeded in one direction, will burst forth in another; hence the defiant

and sometimes grotesque expression which the lives and acts of some few

women have been of the injustice done to them by society. This will

cease, and while it lasts, it ought to excite our pity rather than our

anger. It must be remembered that it is but a symptom of a long endured

servitude, a protest against a state of things which we hope will give

place to a better. It is folly to regard it as the natural fruit of that

of which we have scarcely seen the beginning. Acts of violence on the

part of a long oppressed nation are not the offspring of dawning

liberties, but of a doomed tyranny. Again, no important reform can be

carried without a measure of attendant confusion. Evil agencies are the

most vigilant for destruction at the beginning of a great and good work,

and many lives have to be consumed in its inauguration. Any evils which

may at first attend a social reform ought not to alarm us: they are

transient; they are but the breakers on the bar which must be crossed

before we launch into deep waters, but the “noise and dust of the wagon

which brings the harvest home.”

There is a near future and there is a far future; there are plans for

the near future and plans for the far future. The world is full of plans

for the near future; not so of plans for the far future. There are

people who do just what comes first to their hand to do, there are

others who do all for a near future, others again who do all for a far

off end. The first and the last have much in common; it is the second

aim, which when exclusively pursued, misleads. Plans and schemes for the

near future gain and obtain with most people; not unfrequently they

wither away like untimely fruit: those who look afar off prevail, yet

not they, but rather He prevails in them, who taught them to stretch

their vision to the distant horizon, and enables them to bear with

composure the disappointment of present hopes.

Some say, “in order to insure success for this or that movement, you

must have a scheme beforehand, a well-planned system, a fixed principle

of action, else you will be blown hither and thither.” Without offering

any opposition to such a theory, there are others to whom there appears

but one principle of action,—to fix the eyes on the far future, and to

do to-day the work of to-day; each day to undo the heavy burdens as they

come to their hand, each day to break some link of the chains which

bind, and to let some who are now oppressed go free. God guiding these

efforts to the desired end.[8] They have more faith in that which grows

from within than in that which is planned from without, and built

according to the preconceived plan. Such plans or schemes as must be

adopted by them are made as elastic as possible, so that the builders

can avail themselves, at each step, of experience gained, and be ready

to correct or undo any part of the work without sacrificing the whole;

they are content with the light which falls on the path immediately at

their feet, and with the fairer light in the distance. Perhaps it is by

such a principle of action that we can best supply “the needs of the

times,” and it is the possibility of adopting such a principle in times

of need that alone can ensure permanence in usefulness for the venerable

institutions of the country. What such institutions generally do is to

resist all movement, or if they admit any change, it is only to

crystallize anew in an altered form. Almost all true help is special;

and crystallized institutions seldom have help to give for great and

special necessities. But there are times when an impulse, having its

origin in the _hearts_ of men, is found to be stronger than custom and

use; if it cannot work within the established bounds, or by existing

machinery, it will work without them. Somehow or other difficulties

vanish before such an impulse, and much is accomplished which before was

held to be impossible.

I cannot conclude these remarks without expressing the gladness and

gratitude with which I am filled when I see the earnest spirit in which

some of the best and most thoughtful men are beginning to consider these

matters; and I venture especially to acknowledge the kindness of men in

high educational positions themselves, whose sympathies have lately been

enlisted on behalf of the women-teachers whose struggles, and sorrows,

and social disadvantages I have tried to indicate. Mr. Maurice says,

very truly, “Whenever in trade or in any department of human activity,

restrictions tending to the advantage of one class and the injury of

others have been removed, there a divine power has been at work

counteracting not only the selfish calculations, but often the

apparently sagacious reasonings of their defenders.” If we were not

assured that there is indeed a divine power at work in all these things

which some of us have so deeply at heart, we should lack the only

stimulus which enables us to work on, to live and to die for that which

we hold to be right and true; for “except the Lord build the house,

their labour is but vain that build it.”

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