When, some years ago, I delivered nine lectures upon the Condition of
Woman, I had no intention of printing them until time had matured my
judgments and justified my conclusions. Peculiar circumstances
afterwards induced me to modify this decision. The first course of
lectures, now printed as "The College," had proved unexpectedly popular,
and was many times repeated. At its close, I announced the second course
upon Labor, involving the subject of Prostitution as the result of Low
Wages; and a very unexpected opposition ensued. My files can still show
the large number of letters I received, beseeching me not to touch this
subject; and private intercession followed, on the part of those I hold
wisest and most dear, to the same effect. Why I did not yield to all the
clamor, I cannot tell,--except that I was not working for myself nor
_of_ myself.
I thought it, however, necessary to take unusual precautions to prevent
these lectures from being misunderstood. I wrote private notes,
enclosing tickets, to almost all the leading clergymen, asking that
they would attend them as a personal favor to myself. I believe I did
not allude to the efforts which had been made to silence me, except when
I wrote to those who had joined in the outcry. In that case, I demanded
the attendance as an act of justice. These notes were kindly responded
to; and grateful tears started to my eyes, when I found on the seats
before me white-haired men, who set aside their prejudices for my sake.
Whatever might have been thought before, the delivery of the lectures
silenced all objections. They were fully attended and frequently
repeated; and I followed the delivery by the printing of this particular
course, in order that misunderstandings should not have time to
establish themselves. The book was well received, both at home and
abroad. Letters came to me from the far shores of India and Africa,
thanking me for its publication. The first edition was sold at once; and
I should have reprinted the book, but that I did not wish to re-issue
these lectures in an isolated form. I wanted them reprinted, if at all,
in their proper place, subordinated to my main thought.
I smile a little as I look back. The remonstrances upon my file, dated
less than ten years ago, would now be earnestly repudiated by the dear
friends who wrote them.
After the delivery of the third course, upon Law, local reasons decided
the publication of that book. Many efforts were being made in the
different States to change laws; and it was thought that the lectures
would give necessary information.
Of the first course, nothing has ever been printed in this country. The
second lecture was printed, by a sympathizing friend in England, as a
tract, and widely circulated. Part of it was reprinted with approbation
in the "Englishwoman's Journal." The whole of this course is now given
to American readers in its proper connection, in which it is hoped, that
its bearing upon the later lectures will be seen, and a new significance
given to its suggestions. The history of these volumes seems to make it
necessary to reprint the original Prefaces in connection with the
lectures on Labor and Law.
* * * * *
In 1856, I conceived the thought of twelve lectures, to be written
concerning Woman; to embrace, in four series of three each, all that I
felt moved to say in relation to her interests. No one knew better than
myself that they would be only "twelve baskets of fragments gathered
up;" but I could not distrust the Divine Love which still feeds the
multitudes, who wander in the desert, with "five loaves and two small
fishes."
In the first three of these lectures, I stated woman's claim to a civil
position, and asked that power should be given her, under a professedly
republican government, to protect herself. In them I thus stated the
argument on which I should proceed: "The right to education--that is,
the right to the education or drawing-out of all the faculties God has
given--_involves_ the right to a choice of vocation; that is, the right
to a choice of the end to which those faculties shall be trained. The
choice of vocation necessarily _involves_ the protection of that
vocation,--the right to decide how far legislative action shall control
it; in one word, the right to the elective franchise."
Proceeding upon this formula, I delivered, in 1858, a course of lectures
stating "Woman's Claim to Education;" and this season I have condensed
my thoughts upon the freedom of vocations into the three following
lectures. There are still to be completed three lectures on "Woman's
Civil Disabilities." I should prefer to unite the twelve lectures in a
single publication; but reasons of imperative force have induced me to
hurry the printing of these "Essays on Labor." Neither Education nor
Civil Disability can dispute the public interest with this subject. No
one can know better than myself upon what wide information, what
thorough mental discipline, all considerations in regard to it should be
based. I have tried to keep my work within the compass of my ability,
and, without seeking rigid exactness of detail, to apply common sense
and right reason to problems which beset every woman's path. At the very
threshold of my work, I confronted a painful task. Before I could press
the necessity of exertion, before I could plead that labor might be
honored in the public eye, I felt that I must show some cause for the
terrible earnestness with which I was moved; and I could only do it by
facing boldly the question of "Death or Dishonor?"
"Why not leave it to be understood?" some persons may object. "Why not
leave such work to man?" the public may continue.
In answer to the first question, I would say, that very few women have
much knowledge of this "perishing class," except those actually engaged
in ministering to its despair; and that the information I have given is
drawn from wholly reliable sources, as the reader may see, but can be
obtained only by hours--nay, days and weeks--of painful and exhausting
study. Very gladly have I saved my audience that necessity: greatly have
I abbreviated whatever I have quoted. But I _meant_ to drive home the
reality of that wretchedness: I _wanted_ the women to whom I spoke to
feel for those "in bonds as bound with them;" and to understand, that to
save their own children, male and female, they must be willing to save
the children of others. It will be observed, that I have said very
little in regard to this class in the city of Boston; very little, also,
that was definite in regard to our slop-shops. The deficiency is
intentional. I would not have one woman feel that I had betrayed her
confidence, nor one employer that I had singled him out as a victim; and
it is almost impossible to speak on such subjects without finding the
application made to one's hand. I may say, in general, that a very wide
local experience sustains the arguments which I have based on published
statistics.
It was also my earnest desire to prepare one article on this subject
that might be put into the hands of both sexes; that might be opened to
the young, and read in the family circle, without thrilling the reader
with any emotion less sacred than religious pity. This cannot be true of
the reports of any Moral Reform Society; for in them it is needful to
print details so gross in character as to be fit reading for none but
well-principled persons of mature age. It is not true of such a work as
Dr. Sanger's; for his historical retrospect furnishes every possible
excuse to the vices of youth, and is open to question on every page.
From the highest sources in this community--from the lips of
distinguished clergymen, scholars, and men of the world--I have had
every private assurance, that, in this respect, I have not failed.
It would be unjust not to state, that two powerful causes co-operate, in
the city of Boston, with low wages, to cause the ruin of women; I mean
the love of dress, and a morbid disgust at labor.
The love of dress was a motive which obviously had no natural relation
to my subject. A disinclination to work, my readers may think, it was
proper I should have treated; but it is the natural reflection of a
state of things, in the upper classes, which would be a much fitter
subject of rebuke.
So long as a lady will allow her guest to stand exposed to snow and
rain, rather than turn the handle of the door which she happens to be
passing; so long as neither bread nor water can be passed at table,
except at the omnipresent waiter's convenience,--servants will naturally
think that there is something degrading and repulsive in work. This
reform must begin in the higher classes.
But, if this subject must be treated at all, why should it not be left
to men? Can women deal with it abstractly and fairly? The answer is
simple. In physics, no scientific observations are reliable, so long as
they proceed from one quarter alone; many observers must report, and
their observations must be compared, before we can have a trustworthy
result. So it is in social science. Men have been dealing with this
great evil, unassisted, for thousands of years. By their own confession,
it is as unapproachable and obstinate as ever. Conquered by its
perpetual re-appearance, they have come to treat it as an "institution"
to be "managed;" not an evil to be abolished, or a blasphemy to be
hushed. But these lectures are not written for atheists. The speculative
sceptic has retreated before the broad sunlight of modern civilization:
only two classes of atheists remain,--men of science, who fancy that
they have lost sight of the Creator in his works, and talk of the human
soul as the most noble result of material forces; and people of fashion,
who live "without God in the world." Why man should ever investigate the
material universe without a tender and reverent, nay, a growing
dependence on "the dear heart of God," we will not pause to inquire. The
child does not let go his father's hand when he first comprehends the
abundance of his resources. Neither the fountains of God's beauty, nor
the perplexities of his nicely ordered law, loosen man's loving grasp.
He clings all the closer in his joy, because he knows Him better. But
why should not the denizens of the fashionable world be atheists? When I
go among them, and listen to their heartless fooleries; when I see them
absorbed by the vain nothings of their coterie, rapt in endless
consultations about times and seasons, devoid of any real enjoyment,
hopeless of noble occupation, with the days all empty and the nights all
dark,--then I, too, shiver with doubt, and am ready to say in my heart,
"There is no God." We can never believe in any spiritual reality of
which our own souls do not receive some faint reflex. These people must
do the will of the Father, before they can believe in his love. I do not
write for them, but for thoughtful men and women, who rejoice in God's
presence, deny the permanence of evil institutions, and are anxious to
share with others the inheritance that belongs to the "child of the
kingdom,"--for those who have faith to remove mountains, and courage to
confess the faith. For them I shall not have spoken too plainly.
Shortly after these essays were written,--in June, 1859,--I received
from London Mrs. Jameson's "Letter to Lord John Russell;" and I cannot
refrain from expressing the deep emotion with which I read what she had
written to him upon the same subject. Well may she wear the silver hairs
of her sixty years like a crown, if, only through their sanction, she
may speak such noble words. But--
"Earnest purposes do age us fast;"
and many a true-hearted woman, far younger in years, would gladly bear
witness with her.
I would not write, if I could, an "exhaustive" treatise. All I ask for
my work is, that it should be "suggestive." With that purpose, I have
worked out my schemes, in the last lecture, far enough to provoke
objection, to stimulate the spirit of adventure, to show how easily the
"work" may wait upon the "will." May the "Opening of the Gates" be near
at hand!
It remains only to acknowledge my indebtedness to some English and
American friends: and first to the "Englishwoman's Journal;" not merely
for its own excellent articles, but for references and suggestions, most
valuable when followed out. The story of the young straw-braider was
drawn from its pages; and, disappointed in the arrival of original
material from Paris, long expected, I have been compelled to depend upon
it largely for my sketch of Félicie de Fauveau. To one of its editors,
Miss B.R. Parkes, and to Madame Bodichon in London, as well as to the
Rev. Mr. Higginson, I am under pleasant private obligations. I must rest
content to seem largely indebted to the "Edinburgh Review," of April
1859, for condensing the results of the census. My materials were
collected and arranged, when the article on "Female Industry" reached
me; and the differences in treatment were so few, that I at once drew my
pen through whatever was not sanctioned by its authority. The ladies who
first directed my attention to the Waltham watch-factory, and to the
inventors of artificial marble in France, will see from these few words
that I am not forgetful.
BOSTON, November, 1859.
* * * * *
There seems, at first sight, a certain presumption in offering to an
American public, at this moment, any book which does not treat of the
great interests which convulse and perplex the United States. But
experience has shown, that neither the individual nor the national mind
can remain continually upon the rack; and both author and publisher have
thought that a book upon a serious subject, popular in form and low in
price, would find perhaps a more hearty welcome, under present
circumstances, than in those prosperous days, when romances and poems,
travels and biographies, were scattered over every table by the score.
"Woman's Right to Labor" owed its warm welcome, not to any power or
skill in its author, but to the impatient interest of philanthropists in
every thing relating to that subject. It remains to be seen, whether as
large a portion of the public and the press are prepared to treat with
candid consideration the subject of Law.
Both these volumes have been given to the world in their detached form,
that they might receive the benefit of general criticism; that errors,
inaccuracies, or misapprehensions, might be perceived and rectified
before they took a permanent position as part of a larger work. All
criticism, therefore, which is _honestly intended_, will be received
with patience and gratitude; but a great deal falls to the lot of the
author which cannot come under this head.
If we are told that a "wider acquaintance with the history" of a certain
era will modify our views, it is natural to expect that an honest critic
will show _where_ the acquaintance fails, and how the views should be
modified. When we are told that certain scientific illustrations,
"though true in the main, are not accurate in detail," we may reasonably
hope to see at least _one_ error pointed out. When neither of these
things is done, we sweep such remarks aside, as alike unprofitable to us
and our readers.
A wide and generous sympathy in my aims has given me, thus far, all that
I could desire of encouragement and appreciation; and this appreciation
has come, in several instances, from a "household of faith" far removed
from my own, and has been mingled in such cases with an outspoken
regret, that one who "wrote so well, and felt so warmly," should not
acknowledge on her pages the debt woman owes to Christianity, and unfurl
an evangelical banner above a Christ-like work. Because such friends
have spoken tenderly, I answer them respectfully; because I never saw
any church-door so narrow that I could not pass through it, nor so wide
that it would open to all God's glory, I answer them without fear.
And, first, I believe in God, as the tender Father of all; as one who
cares for the least of his children, and does not turn from the
greatest; as one whose eye marks the smallest inequalities of happiness
or condition, and holds them in a memory which does not fail. I believe
in Christ as his authorized Teacher, anointed to reveal the fulness of
God's love through his own life of practical good-will. I do not expect
him to be superseded or set aside; and I do expect, that in proportion
as men grow wiser, humbler, and sweeter, their eyes will open only the
more widely to the great miracle of his spotless life, to the heavenly
nature of his so simple teachings. And, next, I believe in my own
work,--the elevation of woman through education, which is development;
through labor, which is salvation; through legal rights, which are only
freedom to develop and save,--as part of the mission of Jesus on the
earth, authorized by him, inspired of God, and sure of fulfilment as any
portion of his law. If at any time I have lost sight of this in
expression, it is because I have thought it impossible that the purpose
and character of my work should be mistaken. I am a slow and patient
worker,--patient, because one may well be patient, if God can; and
therefore no disappointment, no lack of appreciation, could sour or
disturb me.
If I have justified the publication of this essay at the present moment,
it may be thought that I shall not be able to justify the principal
presumption; namely, that of a woman who undertakes to write upon law.
Such a treatise as this would be valueless, in my eyes, if it were
written by a man. It is a woman's judgment in matters that concern women
that the world demands, before any radical change can be made. To
understand the laws under which I must live, no recondite learning, no
broad scholarship, no professional study, can be fitly required. Common
intelligence and common sense are all that society has any right to
claim of me. Because most women shrink from criticising this law, I have
criticised it.
Very recently, the "London Quarterly" said, in speaking of the
republication of John Austin's work, that "English jurisprudence would
be indebted for one of its highest aids to the reverential affection of
a wife, and the patient industry of a refined and intelligent woman;"
and Mrs. Austin defends her undertaking on this very ground,--that, if
she had not superintended the work, _no one else would_. If John
Austin's firm and penetrating intellect could not hold a score of
persons about his lecturer's desk, and if it found its fit appreciation
only in the grave, a conscientious woman need not shrink from any branch
of his great subject, only because her audience will be small.