To Mr. Moses Porter, Biddeford.
Scarborough, June 1st, 1801.
As to the qualities of mind peculiar to each sex, I agree with you that
sprightliness is in favor of females and profundity of males. Their
education, their pursuits would create such a quality even tho’ nature
had not implanted it. The business and pursuits of men require deep
thinking, judgment, and moderation, while, on the other hand, females
are under no necessity of dipping deep, but merely “skim the surface,”
and we too commonly spare ourselves the exertion which deep researches
require, unless they are absolutely necessary to our pursuits in life.
We rarely find one giving themselves up to profound investigation for
amusement merely. Necessity is the nurse of all the great qualities of
the mind; it explores all the hidden treasures and by its stimulating
power they are “polished into brightness.” Women who have no such
incentives to action suffer all the strong energetic qualities of the
mind to sleep in obscurity; sometimes a ray of genius gleams through the
thick clouds with which it is enveloped, and irradiates for a moment the
darkness of mental night; yet, like a comet that shoots wildly from its
sphere, it excites our wonder, and we place it among the phenomenons of
nature, without searching for a natural cause. Thus it is the qualities
with which nature has endowed us, as a support amid the misfortunes of
life and a shield from the allurements of vice, are left to moulder in
ruin. In this dormant state they become enervated and impaired, and at
last die for _want of exercise_. The little airy qualities which produce
sprightliness are left to flutter about like feathers in the wind, the
sport of every breeze.
Women have more fancy, more lively imaginations than men. That is easily
accounted for: a person of correct judgment and accurate discernment
will never have that flow of ideas which one of a different character
might,—every object has not the power to introduce into his mind such a
variety of ideas, he rejects all but those closely connected with it. On
the other hand, a person of small discernment will receive every idea
that arises in the mind, making no distinction between those nearly
related and those more distant, they are all equally welcome, and
consequently such a mind abounds with fanciful, out-of-the-way ideas.
Women have more imagination, more sprightliness, because they have less
discernment. I never was of opinion that the pursuits of the sexes ought
to be the same; on the contrary, I believe it would be destructive to
happiness, there would a degree of rivalry exist, incompatible with the
harmony we wish to establish. I have ever thought it necessary that each
should have a separate sphere of action,—in such a case there could be
no clashing unless one or the other should leap their respective bounds.
Yet to cultivate the qualities with which we are endowed can never be
called infringing the prerogatives of man. Why, my dear Cousin, were we
furnished with such powers, unless the improvement of them would conduce
to the happiness of society? Do you suppose the mind of woman the only
work of God that was “made in vain.” The cultivation of the powers we
possess, I have ever thought a privilege (or I may say duty) that
belonged to the human species, and not man’s exclusive prerogative. Far
from destroying the harmony that ought to subsist, it would fix it on a
foundation that would not totter at every jar. Women would be under the
same degree of subordination that they now are; enlighten and expand
their minds, and they would perceive the necessity of such a regulation
to preserve the order and happiness of society. Yet you require that
their conduct should be always guided by that reason which you refuse
them the power of exercising. I know it is generally thought that in
such a case women would assume the right of commanding. But I see no
foundation for such a supposition,—not a blind submission to the will of
another which neither honor nor reason dictates. It would be criminal in
such a case to submit, for we are under a prior engagement to conduct in
all things according to the dictates of reason. I had rather be the
meanest reptile that creeps the earth, or cast upon the wide world to
suffer all the ills “that flesh is heir to,” than live a slave to the
despotic will of another.
I am aware of the censure that will ever await the female that attempts
the vindication of her sex, yet I dare to brave that censure that I know
to be undeserved. It does not follow (O what a pen!) that every female
who vindicates the capacity of the sex is a disciple of Mary
Wolstoncraft. Though I allow her to have said many things which I cannot
but approve, yet the very foundation on which she builds her work will
be apt to prejudice us so against her that we will not allow her the
merit she really deserves,—yet, prejudice set aside, I confess I admire
many of her sentiments, notwithstanding I believe should any one adopt
her principles, they would conduct in the same manner, and upon the
whole her life is the best comment on her writings. Her style is nervous
and commanding, her sentiments appear to carry conviction along with
them, but they will not bear analyzing. I wish to say something on your
_natural refinement_, but I shall only have room to touch upon it if I
begin, “therefore I’ll leave it till another time.”
Last evening Mr. Samuel Thatcher spent with us; we had a fine “dish of
conversation” served up with great taste, fine sentiments dressed with
elegant language and seasoned with wit. He is really excellent company—a
little enthusiastic or so—but that is no matter. In compassion I entreat
you to come over here soon and make me some pens. I have got one that I
have been whittling this hour and at last have got it to make a stroke
(it liked to have given me the lie). I believe I must give up all
pretension to _profundity_, for I am much more at home in my female
character. This argumentative style is not congenial to my taste. I hate
anything that requires order or connection. I never could do anything by
rule,—when I get a subject I am incapable of reasoning upon, I play with
it as with a rattle, for what else should I do with it? But I have kept
along quite in a direct line; I caught myself “upon the wing” two or
three times, but I had power to check my nonsense. I send you my
sentiments on this subject as they really exist with me. I believe they
are not the mere impulse of the moment, but founded on what I think
truth. I could not help laughing at that part of your letter where you
said the seal of my letter deprived you of some of the most interesting
part of it. I declare positively I left a blank place on purpose for it,
that you might not lose one precious word, and now you have the
impudence to tell me that the most interesting part was the blank paper.
It has provoked my ire to such a degree that I positively declare I
never will send you any more blank paper than I possibly can avoid, to
“spite you.”