_December, 1899._
“Rather than remain braced and keen to watch the world accurately and
take every appearance on its own merits, the lazy intellect declines
upon generalizations, formalized rules and Laws of Nature.”
--“Idlehurst, a Journal kept in the Country.”
Every reader of the educational journals must be familiar with the
typical advertisement that “The Council of the ---- High School
for Girls will shortly appoint a Headmistress. No one over 35 need
apply.” The restriction produces an effect on assistant mistresses
very prejudicial to the interests of education. Girls after a three or
four years’ University course, followed in some cases by a year in a
Training College, have hardly settled down to the practical business
of their lives in the high schools before they are seized with a
nervous fear that if they do not shortly bestir themselves in the
competition for headmistress-ships they will before long be stranded
on this old-time superstition. Their youth and inexperience are facts
constantly brought before them up to the age of thirty or thereabouts,
and then with hardly an interval they find themselves confronted by
this theory of sudden decay of faculties in women. During the second
five years of teaching there is a constant agitation among young
mistresses in the endeavour to secure a headship, and then amongst
those who fail in the lottery--for it is a lottery--comes the deadening
prospect of, perhaps, a quarter of a century’s work to be carried on
without hope of promotion.
It may be useful to consider the origin of this “formalised rule” that
women are unfit to undertake serious responsibility after the age of
thirty-five.
The rule--an advance, no doubt, on the eighteenth-century habit
of referring to men and women of forty or fifty as “aged”--became
stereotyped at least as early as the middle of this century. Unmarried
ladies regarded as on the shelf at twenty-five were forced to let their
faculties die for want of exercise. The freshness was drained out of
them by the pressure of trivialities unresisted by hope. Those who
entered the labour market did so as victims of cruel misfortune, full
of pity for themselves and quickly worn out by their struggles to gain
a livelihood with few qualifications for the task.
During the last twenty years a very striking change has made itself
apparent. In some branches the extension of the working period of a
woman’s life has been so great that it has even brought back to useful,
hopeful enterprise women who had settled down to the colourless,
dreary, monotonous round prescribed for the unattached elderly. The
number of educated women who either earn a livelihood or engage in
philanthropic work has not increased so much as is usually supposed,
but the spirit in which the work is undertaken is wholly different. Not
that it is in all respects a praiseworthy one. The disinterestedness
of the saint is perhaps lacking. Indeed, what I wish to lay stress
on as a fact for which to be thankful is that the period of youthful
_interestedness_ has been very greatly extended.
In fiction our women writers have long since abandoned sweet seventeen
as a heroine, and even men writers, slowest of all to observe such
changes, have, during the last five years or so, recognised that at
that favoured age girls are nowadays too much absorbed in preparing
for senior locals and college entrance examinations to offer useful
material for romantic literature.
Not a few of our veterans shake their heads over what I have called
the extension of youthfulness, but what they call the prolongation of
childish irresponsibility. The crudeness of the girl-graduate of two or
three and twenty is contrasted unfavourably with the finished manners
and graceful maturity of the girl of eighteen some forty years ago. And
there would be much to be urged in support of their disapproval if,
with the raising of the age-limit of a girl’s systematised education,
there were no corresponding rise in the age-limit of her usefulness
and energy. If the prime of life were necessarily passed at an age
fixed for all time, so that the time spent in preparation for work was
deducted from the time available for work itself, it might fairly
be doubted whether our modern system of education was not positively
harmful.
But there is no such fixity in the age at which maturity is attained,
and there is reason to believe that as each generation takes longer to
arrive at maturity, owing to much more careful attention to mental and
physical development, so also each generation retains the possession of
its mature powers for a longer period than the preceding one.
Reflecting on this possibility and comparing modern systems of
education with those prevailing a century ago, it will be noticed that
in those days girls became wives and mothers before they had time to
realise the joy of youth; that children were introduced to society
too soon to have indulged in the delightful exercise of imagination,
untouched by responsibility; and that toddling babies must have been
taught to theorise on moral problems, judging by the period at which
some of them attained to a reasoned self-control.
Looking back, too, with curiosity, to the methods by which this
precocious maturity of judgment was produced, it is interesting to note
the changes in the school curriculum apparent at different periods,
and the absence of those subjects which, in our day, we regard as
preliminary to education, and which yet require more years for their
mastery than were necessary a hundred years ago for the mastery of
feminine accomplishments and the acquisition of fixed moral principles.
It is those fixed moral principles that form the most marked
characteristic of the eighteenth-century child. Of religious teaching
there was strikingly little; religious fervour is almost entirely
absent from the literature of the period. But moral teaching was, so
far as girls were concerned, the only branch of study in which they
were called to exercise their reason.
We are all of us apt to imagine that the writers of children’s books
in the last century had so little artistic faculty as to be constantly
writing a language which no human being could ever have indulged in, in
real life. But, in fact, these prematurely grown-up girls were never
called on to exercise their intelligence on any subject except morals.
They were twice as old as our children of the same age, but their
brains were less accustomed to exercise than those of our infants in
the kindergarten nowadays. The style in vogue was a natural result.
Daniel Defoe, in his “Tour through Great Britain,” describes the
domestic system in the woollen industry in the West Riding at the
beginning of the eighteenth century with glowing enthusiasm. I quote,
from the edition of 1759, the account of the trade in Halifax and the
surrounding district. After describing the scenery, he goes on:
“Nor is the industry of the people wanting to second these advantages.
Though we met few people without doors, yet within we saw the houses
full of lusty fellows, some at the dye vat, some at the loom, others
dressing the cloth; the women and children carding or spinning; all
employed from the youngest to the oldest; scarce anything above four
years old but its hands were sufficient for its own support.”
There are other instances of a similar kind in other parts of the
book. It is to him a delightful thing that there should be work enough
for these little four-year-old mites to be able to relieve their
parents from the burden of their support.
Clearly, then, children were not allowed to be children for long in
those days. And some of the stories to which I shall refer are not
quite so ridiculous as we may have imagined. We have accused the
writers of talking in an absurdly grown-up manner to little children.
It was really the little children who were absurdly grown up in real
life, not merely in fiction.
Take as an instance the story of “Jemima Placid,” written some time
between 1770 and 1790. I quote the prologue:
“As I had nothing particular to do, I took a walk one morning as far
as St. James’s Park, where meeting with a lady of my acquaintance,
she invited me to go home with her to breakfast; which invitation
I accordingly complied with. Her two daughters had waited for her
a considerable time, and expressed themselves to have been much
disturbed at her stay. They afterwards fretted at the heat of the
weather; and the youngest, happening accidentally to tear her
apron, she bewailed it the succeeding part of the day with so much
appearance of vexation, that I could not help showing some degree of
astonishment at her conduct; and having occasion afterwards to mention
Miss Placid, I added that she was the most agreeable girl I had ever
known.
“Miss Eliza, to whom I was speaking, said that she had long wished
to hear something further concerning that young lady, as her mamma
very frequently proposed her as an example without mentioning the
particulars of her conduct; but as I was so happy as to be favoured
with her intimacy, she should be glad to hear a recital of those
excellences which acquired such universal approbation.
“In compliance with this request I wrote the following sheets and
dispatched them to Miss Eliza, and by her desire it is that they are
now submitted to the world; as she obligingly assured me that her
endeavours to imitate the calm disposition of the heroine of this
history had contributed so much to her own happiness, and increased
the good opinion of her friends, that she wished to have so amiable an
example made public for the advantage of others.”
And then we are given the life of Miss Jemima Placid at the age of six,
and in particular of her first visit from home to her cousins, Miss
Nelly and Miss Sally Piner, aged nine and eight years respectively.
The incidents of the story are of the kind that would happen to
children of six or seven nowadays. But the moral teaching is
representative of the ethical teaching of the time. The importance of
ease of manner and good deportment in society is constantly being
urged:
“Jemima, who had not seen her cousins since she was two years old,
had entirely forgotten them; and, as they expected to find her as
much a baby as at their last interview, they appeared like entire
strangers to each other. They welcomed their papa and mamma, and
looked at Miss Placid with silent amazement: both parties, indeed,
said the civil things they were desired, such as, ‘How do you do,
cousin?’ rather in a low and drawling tone of voice; and Miss Sally,
who was eight years old, turned her head on one side and hung on
her papa’s arm, though he tried to shake her off and desired her to
welcome Miss Placid to London, and to say she was glad to see her, to
inquire after her papa, mamma, and brothers, and, in short, to behave
politely and receive her in a becoming manner. To do this, however,
Mr. Piner found was impossible, as his daughters were not at any time
distinguished by the graces, and were always particularly awkward,
from their shyness, at a first introduction. In this place, my dear
Eliza, you must excuse me if I stop to hint at a like error in your
own conduct, and which, indeed, young ladies in general are too apt
to be inattentive to; that, as first impressions are usually the
strongest, it is of great consequence to impress your company with a
favourable opinion of your appearance. As you are acquainted with the
common forms of good breeding, you should consider that it is quite
immaterial whether you address a lady you have before seen or one
with whom you are unacquainted, since the compliments of civility are
varied only by the circumstances of your knowledge, or the different
connections of the person to whom you are speaking. When, therefore,
you are in company with strangers, you should accustom yourself to
say what is proper (which will be to answer any question they may ask
you) without at all considering how long you have known them; and be
assured that as an easy behaviour is at all times most agreeable, you
will certainly please when you speak with a modest degree of freedom.
Do not therefore make yourself uneasy with the idea of appearing
awkward, for by that means you will defeat your wishes; but endeavour
to retain your natural voice, and express yourself with the same
unconcern as you do in common conversation, since every species of
affectation is disagreeable, and nothing will so strongly recommend
you as simplicity.”
Mrs. Placid’s exhortation on mutual forbearance to the Miss Piners,
who had just emerged from a fight for a place in the window-seat, is
another example of excellent forensic powers brought to bear on the
education of little girls:
“‘There is great wickedness,’ replied her aunt, ‘in being so tenacious
of every trifle as to disagree about it with those with whom we live,
especially between brothers and sisters, who ought always to be
united in affection and love; and if you now indulge your passions
so that you will submit to no opposition, it will make you hated and
despised by everybody and constantly unhappy in your own mind. It is
impossible, my dear, to have every circumstance happen as we wish it
to do; but if a disappointment could at any time justify ill-nature
and petulance it would certainly be adding greatly to the unhappiness
of life. And do you think, my dear, that to fight on every occasion
with those who oppose you is at all consistent with the delicacy of a
young lady? I dare say, when you give yourself time to reflect on the
subject, you will perceive that you have been much to blame, and that
whenever you have suffered yourself to be ill-natured and quarrelsome
you have always been proportionably uneasy and wretched. Nothing can
so much contribute to your present felicity or future peace as a
good understanding and cordial affection for your sister. You will
most probably be more in her company than in any other person’s, and
how comfortable would it be, by every little office of kindness, to
assist each other! I am sure, if you would try the experiment, you
would find it much better than such churlish resistance and provoking
contentions. It is by good humour and an attention to please in
trifles that love is cherished and improved. If your sister wants
anything, be assiduous to fetch it. If she cannot untie a knot, do it
for her. If she wishes a place in the window, make room immediately.
Share with her all that is given to you: conceal her faults, as you
dislike your own to be observed; commend her good qualities, and never
envy, but endeavour to emulate, her perfections. By this method you
will ensure her regard and make yourself happy at the same time; that
will give the highest pleasure to your parents, and obtain the esteem
of all your acquaintance. Think of these motives, my dear girl, and
resolve to exert yourself; and when you feel inclined to be angry
and cross, recollect whether it will be worth while, because you
have first got possession, to engage in a contest which will forfeit
all these advantages. Think with yourself, Shall I lose my sister’s
love or abate her regard for an orange, a plaything, or a seat? Do
I not prefer making her contented, and keeping my own mind serene
and placid, before the pleasure of enjoying a toy or any other thing
equally trifling? Will it tire me to fetch down her cloak, or her
doll, if she is in want of them? And shall I not do it in less time
than it will take to dispute whose business it is to go? In short, my
dear niece, you will find so much ease and pleasure result from the
resolution to oblige that I dare say, if you once attempt it, you will
be inclined to persevere.’
“‘But indeed, madam,’ returned Miss Nelly, ‘my sister is as cross to
me as I am to her, and therefore it is out of my power to do what you
advise; for I cannot bear to do everything for her when she will do
nothing for me.’
“‘You are both much to blame,’ said Mrs. Placid, ‘but as you are the
eldest it is your place to set a good example, and you do not know,
Nelly, how far that incitement will prevail. When you have refused her
one request, she is naturally, by way of retaliation, induced to deny
you another: this increases your mutual dissatisfaction and commences
new quarrels, by which means your anger is continued, so that neither
is inclined to oblige or condescend. But if she finds you continue
to be good-natured, she will catch the kind impression, as she used
to imbibe the ill habits of malevolence and rage. In every case you
should consider that the errors of another person are no excuse for
the indulgence of evil in yourself.’”
In the story of “Mrs. Teachum and the Little Female Academy,” the
school curriculum is very clearly stated. A delightful account of the
training received by Mrs. Teachum for the post of schoolmistress shows
the prevalence of a humble deference to men’s superior judgment, which
may help to explain the absence of enthusiasm on their part for the
higher education of women.
“This gentlewoman was the widow of a clergyman, with whom she had
lived nine years in all the harmony and concord which form the only
satisfactory happiness in the married state.
“Mr. Teachum was a very sensible man, and took great delight in
improving his wife, as she also placed her chief pleasure in receiving
his instructions. One of his constant subjects of discourse to her
was concerning the education of children; so that, when in his last
illness his physicians pronounced him beyond the power of their art to
relieve him, he expressed great satisfaction in the thought of leaving
his children to the care of so prudent a mother.
“Mrs. Teachum, though exceedingly afflicted by such a loss, yet
thought it her duty to call forth all her resolution to conquer
her grief, in order to apply herself to the care of these her dear
husband’s children. But her misfortunes were not here to end: for
within a twelve-month after the death of her husband she was deprived
of both her children by a violent fever that then raged in the
country; and about the same time, by the unforeseen breaking of a
banker in whose hands almost all her fortune was just then placed, she
was bereft of the means of her future support.
“The Christian fortitude with which (through her husband’s
instructions) she had armed her mind, had not left it in the power of
any outward accident to bereave her of her understanding, or to make
her incapable of doing what was proper on all occasions. Therefore,
by the advice of all her friends, she undertook what she was so well
qualified for--namely, the education of children.
“And this trust she endeavoured faithfully to discharge, by
instructing those committed to her care in reading, writing, working,
and in all proper forms of behaviour. And though her principal aim
was to improve their minds in all useful knowledge, to render them
obedient to their superiors, and gentle, kind, and affectionate to
each other, yet she did not omit teaching them an exact neatness
in their persons and dress, and a perfect gentility in their whole
carriage.”
“Reading, writing, working, and all proper forms of behaviour.” And it
is on the “proper forms of behaviour” that the story lays stress. And
it must frankly be admitted that the teaching was necessary. The number
of Mrs. Teachum’s young ladies was limited to nine. The eldest, Miss
Jenny Peace, was just turned fourteen, and the others were all under
twelve. Miss Jenny Peace being of such an advanced age, necessarily has
cast upon her a responsibility for improving the tone of the school,
and rises to the occasion with a sweet self-confidence, combined with
modesty, which the nineteen-year-old captain of a high school nowadays
might admire, but would hardly dare to imitate. The quarrels of the
two Miss Piners seem tame, although solely on account of the inferior
numbers, by comparison with the free fight in which Mrs. Teachum’s
young ladies indulge at the beginning of the story.
It opens with a dispute as to which of them was entitled to the largest
apple in a basket of the fruit given to Miss Jenny Peace to distribute.
To end the strife, Miss Jenny threw the apple over a hedge into another
garden.
“At first they were all silent, as if they were struck dumb with
astonishment with the loss of this one poor apple, though at the same
time they had plenty before them.
“But this did not bring to pass Miss Jenny’s design: for now they all
began again to quarrel which had the most right to it, and which ought
to have had it, with as much vehemence as they had before contended
for the possession of it; and their anger by degrees became so high
that words could not vent half their rage; and they fell to pulling
of caps, tearing of hair, and dragging the clothes off one another’s
backs; though they did not so much strike as endeavour to scratch and
pinch their enemies.
“Miss Dolly Friendly as yet was not engaged in the battle; but on
hearing her friend Miss Nannie Spruce scream out that she was hurt
by a sly pinch from one of the girls, she flew on this sly pincher,
as she called her, like an enraged lion on its prey: and not content
only to return the harm her friend had received, she struck with
such force as felled her enemy to the ground. And now they could not
distinguish between friend and enemy; but fought, scratched, and tore
like so many cats, when they extend their claws to fix them in their
rival’s heart.
“Miss Jenny was employed in endeavouring to part them.
“In the midst of this confusion appeared Mrs. Teachum, who was
returning in hopes to see them happy with the fruit she had given
them; but she was some time there before either her voice or presence
could awaken them from their attention to the fight; when on a sudden
they all faced her, and fear of punishment began now a little to
abate their rage. Each of the misses held in her right hand, fast
clenched, some marks of victory; for they beat and were beaten by
turns. One of them held a little lock of hair torn from the head of
her enemy, another grasped a piece of a cap, which, in aiming at her
rival’s hair, had deceived her hand, and was all the spoils she could
gain; a third clenched a piece of an apron; a fourth, of a frock. In
short, every one, unfortunately, held in her hand a proof of having
been engaged in the battle. And the ground was spread with rags and
tatters, torn from the backs of the little inveterate combatants.”
Space does not permit me to describe the efforts by which Miss Jenny
brought about the moral reform of the combatants. She recounts to
them her mamma’s system of bringing her up, with especial reference
to her studies up to the age of six; and the other girls, brought to
see the error of their ways by a recognition of the unhappiness which
their faults have always brought upon themselves, recount the stories
of their lives also. Fairy tales and society plays are brought into
the service of morality, and the teaching to be deduced from them
is expounded. And although at the end of a fortnight Miss Jenny’s
ministrations are ended by her leaving school,
“all quarrels and contentions were banished from Mrs. Teachum’s house;
and if ever any such thing was likely to arise, the story of Miss
Jenny Peace’s reconciling all her little companions was told to them:
so that Miss Jenny, though absent, still seemed (by the bright example
which she left behind her) to be the cement of union and harmony in
this well-regulated society. And if any girl was found to harbour in
her breast a rising passion, which it was difficult to conquer, the
name and story of Miss Jenny Peace soon gained her attention, and left
her without any other desire than to emulate Miss Jenny’s virtues.”
But perhaps it may be imagined that this story does not really
represent the system of education which we know from biographies and
letters did after all either produce, or allow to emerge, women of
strong character and considerable intellectual attainments.
For further light, turn to Miss Edgeworth’s two stories of Mlle.
Panache, the bad French governess, and Mlle. de Rosier, the good
French governess.
“Mrs. Temple had two daughters, Emma and Helen; she had taken great
care of their education, and they were very fond of their mother, and
particularly happy whenever she had leisure to converse with them;
they used to tell her everything that they thought and felt; so that
she had it in her power early to correct, or rather to teach them to
correct, any little faults in their disposition and to rectify those
errors of judgment to which young people, from want of experience, are
so liable.
“Mrs. Temple lived in the country, and her society was composed of a
few intimate friends; she wished, especially during the education of
her children, to avoid the numerous inconveniences of what is called
an extensive acquaintance. However, as her children grew older, it
was necessary that they should be accustomed to see a variety of
characters, and still more necessary that they should learn to judge
of them. There was little danger of Emma’s being hurt by the first
impressions of new facts and new ideas; but Helen, of a more vivacious
temper, had not yet acquired her sister’s good sense. We must observe
that Helen was a little disposed to be fond of novelty, and sometimes
formed a prodigiously high opinion of persons whom she had seen but
for a few hours. Not to admire was an art which she had yet to learn.”
Helen enters upon this part of her education when she is between eleven
and twelve years old.
After this it creates a sensation of relief to hear Miss Edgeworth, in
describing the pupils of Madame de Rosier, declare of Favoretta, the
youngest, aged about six years old, that “At this age the habits that
constitute character are not formed, and it is, therefore, absurd to
speak of the character of a child six years old.” It would almost seem
that in making this assertion Miss Edgeworth was delivering heretical
views, and we have seen that the author of “Jemima Placid,” at any
rate, disagreed with her.
Turning from fiction to real life to confirm it, we find the following
advice given by the Countess of Carlisle, in 1789, to young ladies
on their first establishment in the world. In her preface she says
that the book is intended for those who have been educated. That this
implies moral education more than anything else is made evident. The
young married woman is, however, recommended to cultivate her mind, and
the advice takes practical form.
“If abundance of leisure shall allow you to extend your studies,” says
Lady Carlisle, “let arithmetic, geography, chronology, and natural
history compose the principal part.”
The brain which has not been trained in mental gymnastics in early
youth, unless unusually active, loses its powers. Narrow-mindedness
is a correct name for a psychological fact. That there were broad and
vigorous-minded women at this period who probably owed much to their
teachers there is no doubt. But, for the most part, these were women
who by their social position came in contact with able men, and saw
life from many points of view. The easy access to personal acquaintance
with leaders of thought, statesmen, practical workers, and cultured and
refined women, gives to the aristocracy and the upper middle classes an
education and training which never cease, and which make a University
training an amusing episode rather than a necessity.
In the middle classes the circumstances and duties of a woman’s life
are entirely different. After marriage, a limited income and maternal
and domestic duties limit a woman’s social education, and if her mental
powers have not been fully developed by education it is difficult for
her to resist the tendency to become absorbed in her purely personal
worries and cares; brain atrophy sets in, and with it old age, the
closing up of the mental avenues to new impressions and feelings.
Thus any child at a Board school can be taught arithmetic, and most
children at a high school can make progress in geometry and algebra,
but even capable middle class women, who begin these subjects for the
first time in early middle life, are frequently found to be mentally
incapable of the reasoning processes involved.
In one hundred years the age of childish irresponsibility has been
raised from six to about twelve, and in the extra six years thus
granted imagination and individuality have been left free to develop
themselves.
During the last twenty years another change has taken place. The duties
of the young person have altered. Formerly at the age of eighteen, in
the young person’s fiction, she was expected to relieve her invalid
mother of household cares and brighten her aged father’s declining
years. But mothers in 1899 refuse to become decrepit and take to the
sofa merely because their daughters are grown up, and fathers only
require to be amused occasionally in the evening. The new mother may
be considerably over thirty-five, bordering on fifty perhaps, but she
neither feels aged nor looks it, and is rather inclined to look beyond
her home for full scope for her powers when thus set free from maternal
cares. And, given intelligence, length of years guarantees experience.
One of the tortures of the Inquisition was to place the victim in a
room, the walls of which grew nearer to each other every day until,
at last, they closed in on him and crushed him to death. In the same
way intelligent life gradually grows fainter and fainter as the brain
decays for want of exercise. A daily mental constitutional is necessary
to prevent the accumulation of what W. K. Clifford called mental fat;
mental gymnastics are needed to prevent stiffening of the brain. When
not only our habits but our ideas have become fixed, then we have grown
old. An octogenarian may be young, if he has preserved the faculty of
modifying his conceptions in correspondence with new evidence.
Mental activity, provided there is no overstrain of the nerves, gives
freshness and interest to life, and to be fresh and interested is to
be young. It is because girls have been taught to use their brains,
and women have been encouraged to keep them in repair, that this
old stereotyped conception of the necessary failure of power after
thirty-five years of age has become absurd. At what age the value of a
woman’s increased experience is counterbalanced by diminished physical
power I do not pretend to judge. Women differ, and their social
opportunities differ. I merely transpose my text and say, “Do not let
your intellect lazily decline upon generalisations, formalised rules,
and laws of nature; but rather let it remain braced and keen to watch
the world accurately and take every appearance on its own merits.”