The world has fought step by step the elevation of woman from
inferiority to equality, but at last she is being recognised as a
potent factor in our civilisation.
The most marked change which has been made in woman's position during
the last half century or more has been effected by higher education,
and since the universities have thrown open their doors to her, she
has been allowed, in many cases, to take the same courses that her
brother does.
Still, the way has not been entirely smooth for educated and literary
women, for the public press has too often frowned upon their efforts
to obtain anything like equal recognition for equal ability. The
literary woman has, for years, been the target of criticism, and if we
are to believe her critics, she has been entirely shunned by the
gentlemen of her acquaintance; but the fact that so many of them are
wives and mothers, and, moreover, good wives and mothers, proves
conclusively that these statements are not trustworthy.
It is true that some prefer the society of women who know just
enough to appreciate their compliments--women who deprecate their
"strong-minded" sisters, and are ready to agree implicitly with every
statement that the lords of creation may make; but this readiness is
due to sheer inability to produce a thought of their own.
It is true that some men are afraid of educated women, but a man who
is afraid of a woman because she knows something is not the kind of a
man she wants to marry. He is not the kind of a man she would choose
for either husband or friend; she wants an intellectual companion, and
the chances are that she will find him, or rather that he will find
her. A woman need not be unwomanly in order to write books that will
help the world.
She may be a good housekeeper, even if she does write for the
magazines, and the husbands of literary women are not, as some folks
would have us believe, neglected and forlorn-looking beings. On the
contrary, they carry brave hearts and cheerful faces with them always,
since their strength is reinforced by the quiet happiness of their own
firesides.
The _fin-de-siecle_ woman is literary in one sense, if not in
another, for if she may not wield her pen, she can keep in touch with
the leading thinkers of the day, and she will prove as pleasant a
companion during the long winter evenings as the woman whose husband
chose her for beauty and taste in dress.
The literary woman is not slipshod in her apparel, and she may, if she
chooses, be a society and club woman as well. Surely there is nothing
in literary culture which shall prevent neatness and propriety in
dress as well as in conduct.
The devoted admirer of Browning is not liable to quote him in
a promiscuous company and though a lady may be familiar with
Shakespeare, it does not follow that she will discuss _Hamlet_
in social gatherings.
If she reads Greek as readily as she does her mother tongue, you may
rest assured she will not mention Homer in ordinary conversation, for
a cultivated woman readily recognises the fitness of things, and
accords a due deference to the tastes of others. She has her club and
her friends, as do the gentlemen of her acquaintance, but her children
are not neglected from the fact that she sometimes thinks of other
things. She is a helpmeet to her husband, and not a plaything, or a
slave. If duty calls her to the kitchen, she goes cheerfully, and,
moreover, the cook will not dread to see her coming; or if that
important person be absent, the table will be supplied with just as
good bread, and just as delicate pastry, as if the lady of the house
did not understand the chemicals of their composition.
If trouble comes, she bears it bravely, for the cultured woman has a
philosophy which is equal to any emergency, and she does the best she
can on all occasions.
If her husband leaves her penniless, she will, if possible, clothe her
children with her pen, but if her literary wares are a drug on the
market, she will turn bravely to other fields, and find her daily
bread made sweet by thankfulness. She does not hesitate to hold out
her hands to help a fellow-creature, either man or woman, for she is
in all things womanly--a wife to her husband and a mother to her
children in the truest sense of the words.
Her knowledge of the classics does not interfere with the making of
dainty draperies for her home, and though she may be appointed to read
a paper before her club on some scholarly theme, she will listen just
as patiently to tales of trouble from childish lips, and will tie up
little cut fingers just as sympathetically as her neighbour who folds
her arms and who broadly hints that "wimmen's spear is to hum!"
Whether the literary woman be robed in silk and sealskin, or whether
she rejoices in the possession of only one best gown, she may,
nevertheless, be contented and happy.
Whether she lives in a modest cottage, or in a fashionable home,
she may be the same sweet woman, with cheerful face and pleasant
voice--with a broad human sympathy which makes her whole life glad.
Be she princess, or Cinderella, she may be still her husband's
confidant and cherished friend, to whom he may confide his business
troubles and perplexities, certain always of her tender consolation
and ready sympathy. She may be quick and versatile, doing well
whatever she does at all, for her creed declares that "whatever is
honest is honourable."
She glories in her womanhood and has no sympathy with anything which
tends to degrade it.
All hail to the woman of the twentieth century; let _fin de siecle_
stand for all that is best and noblest in womanhood: for liberty,
equality, and fraternity; for right, truth, and justice.
All hail the widespread movement for the higher education of woman,
for in intellectual development is the future of posterity, in study
is happiness, through the open door of the college is the key of a
truer womanhood, a broader humanity, and a brighter hope. In education
along the lines of the broadest and wisest culture is to be found the
emancipation of the race.