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diff --git a/old/woman10.txt b/old/woman10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5e5bd43 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/woman10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,12433 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Woman in the Ninteenth Century, +by Margaret Fuller Ossoli + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Woman in the Ninteenth Century + and Kindred Papers Relating to the Sphere, Condition + and Duties, of Woman. + +Author: Margaret Fuller Ossoli + +Release Date: August, 2005 [EBook #8642] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on July 29, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WOMAN IN THE NINTEENTH CENTURY *** + + + + +Produced by David Garcia, Yvonne Dailey, Carlo Traverso, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +Woman in the Nineteenth Century, + +and + +Kindred Papers Relating to the Sphere, Condition and Duties, of Woman. + +by Margaret Fuller Ossoli. + + +Edited by her brother, Arthur B. Fuller. + +With an introduction by Horace Greeley. + + + + +PREFACE. + + * * * * * + +It has been thought desirable that such papers of Margaret Fuller +Ossoli as pertained to the condition, sphere and duties of Woman, +should be collected and published together. The present volume +contains, not only her "Woman in the Nineteenth Century,"--which has +been before published, but for some years out of print, and +inaccessible to readers who have sought it,--but also several other +papers, which have appeared at various times in the _Tribune_ and +elsewhere, and yet more which have never till now been published. + +My free access to her private manuscripts has given to me many papers, +relating to Woman, never intended for publication, which yet seem +needful to this volume, in order to present a complete and harmonious +view of her thoughts on this important theme. I have preferred to +publish them without alteration, as most just to her views and to the +reader; though, doubtless, she would have varied their expression and +form before giving them to the press. + +It seems right here to remark, In order to avoid any misapprehension, +that Margaret Ossoli's thoughts wore not directed so exclusively to +the subject of the present volume as have been the minds of some +others. As to the movement for the emancipation of Woman from the +unjust burdens and disabilities to which she has been subject oven in +our own land, my sister could neither remain indifferent nor silent; +yet she preferred, as in respect to every other reform, to act +independently and to speak independently from her own stand-point, and +never to merge her individuality in any existing organization. This +she did, not as condemning such organizations, nor yet as judging them +wholly unwise or uncalled for, but because she believed she could +herself accomplish more for their true and high objects, unfettered by +such organizations, than if a member of them. The opinions avowed +throughout this volume, and wherever expressed, will, then, be found, +whether consonant with the reader's or no, in all cases honestly and +heartily her own,--the result of her own thought and faith. She never +speaks, never did speak, for any clique or sect, but as her individual +judgment, her reason and conscience, her observation and experience, +taught her to speak. + +I could have wished that some one other than a brother should have +spoken a few fitting words of Margaret Fuller, as a woman, to form a +brief but proper accompaniment to this volume, which may reach some +who have never read her "Memoirs," recently published, or have never +known her in personal life. This seemed the more desirable, because +the strictest verity in speaking of her must seem, to such as knew her +not, to be eulogy. But, after several disappointments as to the +editorship of the volume, the duty, at last, has seemed to devolve +upon me; and I have no reason to shrink from it but a sense of +inadequacy. + +It is often supposed that literary women, and those who are active and +earnest in promoting great intellectual, philanthropic, or religious +movements, must of necessity neglect the domestic concerns of life. It +may be that this is sometimes so, nor can such neglect be too severely +reprehended; yet this is by no means a necessary result. Some of the +most devoted mothers the world has ever known, and whose homes were +the abode of every domestic virtue, themselves the embodiment of all +these, have been women whose minds were highly cultured, who loved and +devoted both thought and time to literature, and were active in +philanthropic and diffusive efforts for the welfare of the race. + +The letter to M., which is published on page 345, is inserted chiefly +as showing the integrity and wisdom with which Margaret advised her +friends; the frankness with which she pointed out to every young woman +who asked counsel any deficiencies of character, and the duties of +life; and that among these latter she gave due place to the humblest +which serve to make home attractive and happy. It is but simple +justice for me to bear, in conjunction with many others, my tribute to +her domestic virtues and fidelity to all home duties. That her mind +found chief delight in the lowest forms of these duties may not be +true, and it would be sad if it were; but it is strictly true that +none, however humble, were either slighted or shunned. + +In common with a younger sister and brother, I shared her care in my +early instruction, and found over one of the truest counsellors in a +sister who scorned not the youngest mind nor the simplest intellectual +wants in her love for communion, through converse or the silent page, +with the minds of the greatest and most gifted. + +During a lingering illness, in childhood, well do I remember her as +the angel of the sick-chamber, reading much to me from books useful +and appropriate, and telling many a narrative not only fitted to wile +away the pain of disease and the weariness of long confinement, but to +elevate the mind and heart, and to direct them to all things noble and +holy; over ready to watch while I slept, and to perform every gentle +and kindly office. But her care of the sick--that she did not neglect, +but was eminent in that sphere of womanly duty, even when no tie of +kindred claimed this of her, Mr. Cass's letter abundantly shows; and +also that this gentleness was united to a heroism which most call +manly, but which, I believe, may as justly be called truly womanly. +Mr. Cass's letter is inserted because it arrived too late to find a +place in her "Memoirs," and yet more because it bears much on Margaret +Ossoli's characteristics as a woman. + +A few also of her private letters and papers, not bearing, save, +indirectly, on the subject of this volume, are yet inserted in it, as +further illustrative of her thought, feeling and action, in life's +various relations. It is believed that nothing which exhibits a true +woman, especially in her relations to others as friend, sister, +daughter, wife, or mother, can fail to interest and be of value to her +sex, indeed to all who are interested in human welfare and +advancement, since these latter so much depend on the fidelity of +Woman. Nor will anything pertaining to the education and care of +children be deemed irrelevant, especially by mothers, upon whom these +duties must always largely devolve. + +Of the intellectual gifts and wide culture of Margaret Fuller there is +no need that I should speak, nor is it wise that one standing in my +relation to her should. Those who knew her personally feel that no +words ever flowed from her pen equalling the eloquent utterances of +her lips; yet her works, though not always a clear oppression of her +thoughts, are the evidences to which the world will look as proof of +her mental greatness. + +On one point, however, I do wish to bear testimony--not needed with +those who knew her well, but interesting, perhaps, to some readers +into whose bands this volume may fall. It is on a subject which one +who knew her from his childhood up--at _home_, where best the +_heart_ and _soul_ can be known,--in the unrestrained hours +of domestic life,--in various scenes, and not for a few days, nor +under any peculiar circumstances--can speak with confidence, because +he speaks what he "doth know, and testifieth what he hath seen." It +relates to her Christian faith and hope. "With all her intellectual +gifts, with all her high, moral, and noble characteristics," there are +some who will ask, "was her intellectual power sanctified by Christian +faith as its basis? Were her moral qualities, her beneficent life, the +results of a renewed heart?" I feel no hesitation here, nor would +think it worth while to answer such questions at all, were her life to +be read and known by all who read this volume, and were I not +influenced also, in some degree, by the tone which has characterized a +few sectarian reviews of her works, chiefly in foreign periodicals. +Surely, if the Saviour's test, "By their fruits ye shall know them," +be the true one, Margaret Ossoli was preeminently a Christian. If a +life of constant self-sacrifice,--if devotion to the welfare of +kindred and the race,--if conformity to what she believed God's law, +so that her life seemed ever the truest form of prayer, active +obedience to the Deity,--in fine, if carrying Christianity into all +the departments of action, so far as human infirmity allows,--if these +be the proofs of a Christian, then whoever has read her "Memoirs" +thoughtfully, and without sectarian prejudice or the use of sectarian +standards of judgment, must feel her to have been a Christian. But not +alone in outward life, in mind and heart, too, was she a Christian. +The being brought into frequent and intimate contact with religious +persons has been one of the chief privileges of my vocation, but never +yet have I met with any person whose reverence for holy things was +deeper than hers. Abhorring, as all honest minds must, every species +of cant, she respected true religious thought and feeling, by +whomsoever cherished. God seemed nearer to her than to any person I +have over known. In the influences of His Holy Spirit upon the heart +she fully believed, and in experience realized them. Jesus, the friend +of man, can never have been more truly loved and honored than she +loved and honored him. I am aware that this is strong language, but +strength of language cannot equal the strength of my conviction on a +point where I have had the best opportunities of judgment. Rich as is +the religion of Jesus in its list of holy confessors, yet it can spare +and would exclude none who in heart, mind and life, confessed and +reverenced him as did she. Among my earliest recollections, is her +devoting much time to a thorough examination of the evidences of +Christianity, and ultimately declaring that to her, better than all +arguments or usual processes of proof, was the soul's want of a divine +religion, and the voice within that soul which declared the teachings +of Christ to be true and from God; and one of my most cherished +possessions is that Bible which she so diligently and thoughtfully +read, and which bears, in her own handwriting, so many proofs of +discriminating and prayerful perusal. As in regard to reformatory +movements so here, she joined no organized body of believers, +sympathizing with all of them whose views were noble and Christian; +deploring and bearing faithful testimony against anything she deemed +narrowness or perversion in theology or life. + +This volume from her hand is now before the reader. The fact that a +large share of it was never written or revised by its authoress for +publication will be kept in view, as explaining any inaccuracy of +expression or repetition of thought, should such occur in its pages. +Nor will it be deemed surprising, if, in papers written by so +progressive a person, at so various periods of life, and under +widely-varied circumstances, there should not always be found perfect +union as to every expressed opinion. + +It is probable that this will soon be followed by another volume, +containing a republication of "Summer on the Lakes," and also the +"Letters from Europe," by the same hand. + +In the preparation of this volume much valuable assistance has been +afforded by Mr. Greeley, of the New York _Tribune_, who has been +earnest in his desire and efforts for the diffusion of what Margaret +has written. + +A. B. F. + +BOSTON, _May 10th_, 1855. + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + + * * * * * + +The problem of Woman's position, or "sphere,"--of her duties, +responsibilities, rights and immunities as Woman,--fitly attracts a +large and still-increasing measure of attention from the thinkers and +agitators of our time, The legislators, so called,--those who +ultimately enact into statutes what the really governing class (to +wit, the thinkers) have originated, matured and gradually commended to +the popular comprehension and acceptance,--are not as yet much +occupied with this problem, only fitfully worried and more or less +consciously puzzled by it. More commonly they merely echo the mob's +shallow retort to the petition of any strong-minded daughter or +sister, who demands that she be allowed a voice in disposing of the +money wrenched from her hard earnings by inexorable taxation, or in +shaping the laws by which she is ruled, judged, and is liable to be +sentenced to prison or to death, "It is a woman's business to obey her +husband, keep his home tidy, and nourish and train his children." But +when she rejoins to this, "Very true; but suppose I choose not to have +a husband, or am not chosen for a wife--what then? I am still subject +to your laws. Why am I not entitled, as a rational human being, to a +voice in shaping them? I have physical needs, and must somehow earn a +living. Why should I not be at liberty to earn it in any honest and +useful calling?"--the mob's flout is hushed, and the legislator Is +struck dumb also. They were already at the end of their scanty +resources of logic, and it would be cruel for woman to ask further: +"Suppose me a wife, and my husband a drunken prodigal--what am I to do +then? May I not earn food for my babes without being exposed to have +it snatched from their mouths to replenish the rumseller's till, and +aggravate my husband's madness? If some sympathizing relative sees fit +to leave me a bequest wherewith to keep my little ones together, why +may I not be legally enabled to secure this to their use and benefit? +In short, why am I not regarded by the law as a _soul_, responsible +for my acts to God and humanity, and not as a mere body, devoted to the +unreasoning service of my husband?" The state gives no answer, and the +champions of her policy evince wisdom in imitating her silence. + +The writer of the following pages was one of the earliest as well as +ablest among American women, to demand for her sex equality before the +law with her titular lord and master, Her writings on this subject +have the force which springs from the ripening of profound reflection +into assured conviction. She wrote as one who had observed, and who +deeply felt what she deliberately uttered. Others have since spoken +more fluently, more variously, with a greater affluence of +illustration; but none, it is believed, more earnestly or more +forcibly. It is due to her memory, as well as to the great and living +cause of which she was so eminent and so fearless an advocate, that +what she thought and said with regard to the position of her sex and +its limitations, should be fully and fairly placed before the public. +For several years past her principal essay on "Woman," here given, has +not been purchasable at any price, and has only with great difficulty +been accessible to the general reader. To place it within the reach of +those who need and require it, is the main impulse to the publication +of this volume; but the accompanying essays and papers will be found +equally worthy of thoughtful consideration. + +H. GREELEY. + + + + + + +CONTENTS. + + * * * * * + +PART I. + +WOMAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY + + * * * * * + +PART II + +MISCELLANIES + +AULAURON AND LAURIE + +WRONGS AND DUTIES OF AMERICAN WOMAN + +GEORGE SAND + +THE SAME SUBJECT + +CONSUELO + +JENNY LIND, THE "CONSUELO" OF GEORGE SAND + +CAROLINE + +EVER-GROWING LIVES + +HOUSEHOLD NOBLENESS + +"GLUMDALCLITCHES" + +"ELLEN; OR, FORGIVE AND FORGET," + +"COUBRIER DES ETATS UNIS," + +THE SAME SUBJECT + +BOOKS OF TRAVEL + +REVIEW OF MRS. JAMESON'S ESSAYS + +WOMAN'S INFLUENCE OVER THE INSANE + +REVIEW OF BROWNING'S POEMS + +CHRISTMAS + +CHILDREN'S BOOKS + +WOMAN IN POVERTY + +THE IRISH CHARACTER + +THE SAME SUBJECT + +EDUCATE MEN AND WOMEN AS SOULS + + * * * * * + +PART III. + +EXTRACTS FROM JOURNAL AND LETTERS + + * * * * * + +APPENDIX + + + + + + +PREFACE TO WOMAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. + + * * * * * + +The following essay is a reproduction, modified and expanded, of an +article published in "The Dial, Boston, July, 1843," under the title +of "The Great Lawsuit.--Man _versus_ Men; Woman _versus_ Women." + +This article excited a good deal of sympathy, add still more interest. +It is in compliance with wishes expressed from many quarters that it +is prepared for publication in its present form. + +Objections having been made to the former title, as not sufficiently +easy to be understood, the present has been substituted as expressive +of the main purpose of the essay; though, by myself, the other is +preferred, partly for the reason others do not like it,--that is, that +it requires some thought to see what it means, and might thus prepare +the reader to meet me on my own ground. Besides, it offers a larger +scope, and is, in that way, more just to my desire. I meant by that +title to intimate the fact that, while it is the destiny of Man, in +the course of the ages, to ascertain and fulfil the law of his being, +so that his life shall be seen, as a whole, to be that of an angel or +messenger, the action of prejudices and passions which attend, in the +day, the growth of the individual, is continually obstructing the holy +work that is to make the earth a part of heaven. By Man I mean both +man and woman; these are the two halves of one thought. I lay no +especial stress on the welfare of either. I believe that the +development of the one cannot be effected without that of the other. +My highest wish is that this truth should be distinctly and rationally +apprehended, and the conditions of life and freedom recognized as the +same for the daughters and the sons of time; twin exponents of a +divine thought. + +I solicit a sincere and patient attention from those who open the +following pages at all. I solicit of women that they will lay it to +heart to ascertain what is for them the liberty of law. It is for +this, and not for any, the largest, extension of partial privileges +that I seek. I ask them, if interested by these suggestions, to search +their own experience and intuitions for better, and fill up with fit +materials the trenches that hedge them in. From men I ask a noble and +earnest attention to anything that can be offered on this great and +still obscure subject, such as I have met from many with whom I stand +in private relations. + +And may truth, unpolluted by prejudice, vanity or selfishness, be +granted daily more and more as the due of inheritance, and only +valuable conquest for us all! + +_November_, 1844. + + + + + + + +WOMAN IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. + + * * * * * + + "Frailty, thy name is WOMAN." + "The Earth waits for her Queen." + + +The connection between these quotations may not be obvious, but it is +strict. Yet would any contradict us, if we made them applicable to the +other side, and began also, + + Frailty, thy name is MAN. + The Earth waits for its King? + + +Yet Man, if not yet fully installed in his powers, has given much +earnest of his claims. Frail he is indeed,--how frail! how impure! +Yet often has the vein of gold displayed itself amid the baser ores, +and Man has appeared before us in princely promise worthy of his +future. + +If, oftentimes, we see the prodigal son feeding on the husks in the +fair field no more his own, anon we raise the eyelids, heavy from +bitter tears, to behold in him the radiant apparition of genius and +love, demanding not less than the all of goodness, power and beauty. +We see that in him the largest claim finds a due foundation. That +claim is for no partial sway, no exclusive possession. He cannot be +satisfied with any one gift of life, any one department of knowledge +or telescopic peep at the heavens. He feels himself called to +understand and aid Nature, that she may, through his intelligence, be +raised and interpreted; to be a student of, and servant to, the +universe-spirit; and king of his planet, that, as an angelic minister +he may bring it into conscious harmony with the law of that spirit. + +In clear, triumphant moments, many times, has rung through the spheres +the prophecy of his jubilee; and those moments, though past in time, +have been translated into eternity by thought; the bright signs they +left hang in the heavens, as single stars or constellations, and, +already, a thickly sown radiance consoles the wanderer in the darkest +night. Other heroes since Hercules have fulfilled the zodiac of +beneficent labors, and then given up their mortal part to the fire +without a murmur; while no God dared deny that they should have their +reward, + + Siquis tamen, Hercule, siquis + Forte Deo doliturus erit, daia praemia nollet, + Sed meruise dari sciet, invitus que probabit, + Assensere Dei + + +Sages and lawgivers have bent their whole nature to the search for +truth, and thought themselves happy if they could buy, with the +sacrifice of all temporal ease and pleasure, one seed for the future +Eden. Poets and priests have strung the lyre with the heart-strings, +poured out their best blood upon the altar, which, reared anew from +age to age, shall at last sustain the flame pure enough to rise to +highest heaven. Shall we not name with as deep a benediction those +who, if not so immediately, or so consciously, in connection with the +eternal truth, yet, led and fashioned by a divine instinct, serve no +less to develop and interpret the open secret of love passing into +life, energy creating for the purpose of happiness; the artist whose +hand, drawn by a preexistent harmony to a certain medium, moulds it +to forms of life more highly and completely organized than are seen +elsewhere, and, by carrying out the intention of nature, reveals her +meaning to those who are not yet wise enough to divine it; the +philosopher who listens steadily for laws and causes, and from those +obvious infers those yet unknown; the historian who, in faith that all +events must have their reason and their aim, records them, and thus +fills archives from which the youth of prophets may be fed; the man of +science dissecting the statements, testing the facts and demonstrating +order, even where he cannot its purpose? + +Lives, too, which bear none of these names, have yielded tones of no +less significance. The candlestick set in a low place has given light +as faithfully, where it was needed, as that upon the hill, In close +alleys, in dismal nooks, the Word has been read as distinctly, as when +shown by angels to holy men in the dark prison. Those who till a spot +of earth scarcely larger than is wanted for a grave, have deserved +that the sun should shine upon its sod till violets answer. + +So great has been, from time to time, the promise, that, in all ages, +men have said the gods themselves came down to dwell with them; that +the All-Creating wandered on the earth to taste, in a limited nature, +the sweetness of virtue; that the All-Sustaining incarnated himself to +guard, in space and time, the destinies of this world; that heavenly +genius dwelt among the shepherds, to sing to them and teach them how +to sing. Indeed, + + "Der stets den Hirten gnadig sich bewies." + + +"He has constantly shown himself favorable to shepherds." + +And the dwellers in green pastures and natural students of the stars +were selected to hail, first among men, the holy child, whose life and +death were to present the type of excellence, which has sustained the +heart of so large a portion of mankind in these later generations. + +Such marks have been made by the footsteps of _man_ (still, alas! +to be spoken of as the _ideal_ man), wherever he has passed +through the wilderness of _men_, and whenever the pigmies stepped +in one of those, they felt dilate within the breast somewhat that +promised nobler stature and purer blood. They were impelled to forsake +their evil ways of decrepit scepticism and covetousness of corruptible +possessions. Convictions flowed in upon them. They, too, raised the +cry: God is living, now, to-day; and all beings are brothers, for they +are his children. Simple words enough, yet which only angelic natures +can use or hear in their full, free sense. + +These were the triumphant moments; but soon the lower nature took its +turn, and the era of a truly human life was postponed. + +Thus is man still a stranger to his inheritance, still a pleader, +still a pilgrim. Yet his happiness is secure in the end. And now, no +more a glimmering consciousness, but assurance begins to be felt and +spoken, that the highest ideal Man can form of his own powers is that +which he is destined to attain. Whatever the soul knows how to seek, +it cannot fail to obtain. This is the Law and the Prophets. Knock and +it shall be opened; seek and ye shall find. It is demonstrated; it is +a maxim. Man no longer paints his proper nature in some form, and +says, "Prometheus had it; it is God-like;" but "Man must have it; it +is human." However disputed by many, however ignorantly used, or +falsified by those who do receive it, the fact of an universal, +unceasing revelation has been too clearly stated in words to be lost +sight of in thought; and sermons preached from the text, "Be ye +perfect," are the only sermons of a pervasive and deep-searching +influence. + +But, among those who meditate upon this text, there is a great +difference of view as to the way in which perfection shall be sought. + +"Through the intellect," say some. "Gather from every growth of life +its seed of thought; look behind every symbol for its law; if thou +canst _see_ clearly, the rest will follow." + +"Through the life," say others. "Do the best thou knowest today. +Shrink not from frequent error in this gradual, fragmentary state. +Follow thy light for as much as it will show thee; be faithful as far +as thou canst, in hope that faith presently will lead to sight. Help +others, without blaming their need of thy help. Love much, and be +forgiven." + +"It needs not intellect, needs not experience," says a third. "If you +took the true way, your destiny would be accomplished, in a purer and +more natural order. You would not learn through facts of thought or +action, but express through them the certainties of wisdom. In +quietness yield thy soul to the causal soul. Do not disturb thy +apprenticeship by premature effort; neither check the tide of +instruction by methods of thy own. Be still; seek not, but wait in +obedience. Thy commission will be given." + +Could we indeed say what we want, could we give a description of the +child that is lost, he would be found. As soon as the soul can affirm +clearly that a certain demonstration is wanted, it is at hand. When +the Jewish prophet described the Lamb, as the expression of what was +required by the coming era, the time drew nigh. But we say not, see +not as yet, clearly, what we would. Those who call for a more +triumphant expression of love, a love that cannot be crucified, show +not a perfect sense of what has already been given. Love has already +been expressed, that made all things new, that gave the worm its place +and ministry as well as the eagle; a love to which it was alike to +descend into the depths of hell, or to sit at the right hand of the +Father. + +Yet, no doubt, a new manifestation is at hand, a new hour in the day +of Man. We cannot expect to see any one sample of completed being, +when the mass of men still lie engaged in the sod, or use the freedom +of their limbs only with wolfish energy. The tree cannot come to +flower till its root be free from the cankering worm, and its whole +growth open to air and light. While any one is base, none can be +entirely free and noble. Yet something new shall presently be shown of +the life of man, for hearts crave, if minds do not know how to ask it. + +Among the strains of prophecy, the following, by an earnest mind of a +foreign land, written some thirty years ago, is not yet outgrown; and +it has the merit of being a positive appeal from the heart, instead of +a critical declaration what Man should _not_ do. + +"The ministry of Man implies that he must be filled from the divine +fountains which are being engendered through all eternity, so that, at +the mere name of his master, he may be able to cast all his enemies +into the abyss; that he may deliver all parts of nature from the +barriers that imprison them; that he may purge the terrestrial +atmosphere from the poisons that infect it; that he may preserve the +bodies of men from the corrupt influences that surround, and the +maladies that afflict them; still more, that he may keep their souls +pure from the malignant insinuations which pollute, and the gloomy +images that obscure them; that he may restore its serenity to the +Word, which false words of men fill with mourning and sadness; that he +may satisfy the desires of the angels, who await from him the +development of the marvels of nature; that, in fine, his world may be +filled with God, as eternity is." [Footnote: St. Martin] + +Another attempt we will give, by an obscure observer of our own day +and country, to draw some lines of the desired image. It was suggested +by seeing the design of Crawford's Orpheus, and connecting with the +circumstance of the American, in his garret at Rome, making choice of +this subject, that of Americans here at home showing such ambition to +represent the character, by calling their prose and verse "Orphic +sayings"--"Orphics." We wish we could add that they have shown that +musical apprehension of the progress of Nature through her ascending +gradations which entitled them so to do, but their attempts are +frigid, though sometimes grand; in their strain we are not warmed by +the fire which fertilized the soil of Greece. + +Orpheus was a lawgiver by theocratic commission. He understood nature, +and made her forms move to his music. He told her secrets in the form +of hymns, Nature as seen in the mind of God. His soul went forth +toward all beings, yet could remain sternly faithful to a chosen type +of excellence. Seeking what he loved, he feared not death nor hell; +neither could any shape of dread daunt his faith in the power of the +celestial harmony that filled his soul. + +It seemed significant of the state of things in this country, that the +sculptor should have represented the seer at the moment when he was +obliged with his hand to shade his eyes. + + Each Orpheus must to the depths descend; + For only thus the Poet can be wise; + Must make the sad Persephone his friend, + And buried love to second life arise; + Again his love must lose through too much love, + Must lose his life by living life too true, + For what he sought below is passed above, + Already done is all that he would do + Must tune all being with his single lyre, + Must melt all rooks free from their primal pain, + Must search all nature with his one soul's fire, + Must bind anew all forms in heavenly chain. + If he already sees what be must do, + Well may he shade his eyes from the far-shining view. + + +A better comment could not be made on what is required to perfect Man, +and place him in that superior position for which he was designed, +than by the interpretation of Bacon upon the legends of the Syren +coast "When the wise Ulysses passed," says he, "he caused his mariners +to stop their ears, with wax, knowing there was in them no power to +resist the lure of that voluptuous song. But he, the much experienced +man, who wished to be experienced in all, and use all to the service +of wisdom, desired to hear the song that he might understand its +meaning. Yet, distrusting his own power to be firm in his better +purpose, he caused himself to be bound to the mast, that he might be +kept secure against his own weakness. But Orpheus passed unfettered, +so absorbed in singing hymns to the gods that he could not even hear +those sounds of degrading enchantment." + +Meanwhile, not a few believe, and men themselves have expressed the +opinion, that the time is come when Eurydice is to call for an +Orpheus, rather than Orpheus for Eurydice; that the idea of Man, +however imperfectly brought out, has been far more so than that of +Woman; that she, the other half of the same thought, the other chamber +of the heart of life, needs now take her turn in the full pulsation, +and that improvement in the daughters will best aid in the reformation +of the sons of this age. + +It should be remarked that, as the principle of liberty is better +understood, and more nobly interpreted, a broader protest is made in +behalf of Woman. As men become aware that few men have had a fair +chance, they are inclined to say that no women have had a fair chance. +The French Revolution, that strangely disguised angel, bore witness in +favor of Woman, but interpreted her claims no less ignorantly than +those of Man. Its idea of happiness did not rise beyond outward +enjoyment, unobstructed by the tyranny of others. The title it gave +was "citoyen," "citoyenne;" and it is not unimportant to Woman that +even this species of equality was awarded her. Before, she could be +condemned to perish on the scaffold for treason, not as a citizen, but +as a subject. The right with which this title then invested a human +being was that of bloodshed and license. The Goddess of Liberty was +impure. As we read the poem addressed to her, not long since, by +Beranger, we can scarcely refrain from tears as painful as the tears +of blood that flowed when "such crimes were committed in her name." +Yes! Man, born to purify and animate the unintelligent and the cold, +can, in his madness, degrade and pollute no less the fair and the +chaste. Yet truth was prophesied in the ravings of that hideous fever, +caused by long ignorance and abuse. Europe is conning a valued lesson +from the blood-stained page. The same tendencies, further unfolded, +will bear good fruit in this country. + +Yet, by men in this country, as by the Jews, when Moses was leading +them to the promised land, everything has been done that inherited +depravity could do, to hinder the promise of Heaven from its +fulfilment. The cross, here as elsewhere, has been planted only to be +blasphemed by cruelty and fraud. The name of the Prince of Peace has +been profaned by all kinds of injustice toward the Gentile whom he +said he came to save. But I need not speak of what has been done +towards the Red Man, the Black Man. Those deeds are the scoff of the +world; and they have been accompanied by such pious words that the +gentlest would not dare to intercede with "Father, forgive them, for +they know not what they do." + +Here, as elsewhere, the gain of creation consists always in the growth +of individual minds, which live and aspire, as flowers bloom and birds +sing, in the midst of morasses; and in the continual development of +that thought, the thought of human destiny, which is given to eternity +adequately to express, and which ages of failure only seemingly +impede. Only seemingly; and whatever seems to the contrary, this +country is as surely destined to elucidate a great moral law, as +Europe was to promote the mental culture of Man. + +Though the national independence be blurred by the servility of +individuals; though freedom and equality have been proclaimed only to +leave room for a monstrous display of slave-dealing and slave-keeping; +though the free American so often feels himself free, like the Roman, +only to pamper his appetites end his indolence through the misery of +his fellow-beings; still it is not in vain that the verbal statement +has been made, "All men are born free and equal." There it stands, a +golden certainty wherewith to encourage the good, to shame the bad. +The New World may be called clearly to perceive that it incurs the +utmost penalty if it reject or oppress the sorrowful brother. And, if +men are deaf, the angels hear. But men cannot be deaf. It is +inevitable that an external freedom, an independence of the +encroachments of other men, such as has been achieved for the nation, +should be so also for every member of it. That which has once been +clearly conceived in the intelligence cannot fail, sooner or later, to +be acted out. It has become a law as irrevocable as that of the Medes +in their ancient dominion; men will privately sin against it, but the +law, as expressed by a leading mind of the age, + + "Tutti fatti a semblanza d'un Solo, + Figli tutti d'un solo riscatto, + In qual'ora, in qual parte del suolo + Trascorriamo quest' aura vital, + Siam fratelli, siam stretti ad un patto: + Maladetto colui che lo infrange, + Che s'innalza sul finoco che piange + Che contrista uno spirto immortal." [Footnote: Manzoni] + + "All made in the likeness of the One. + All children of one ransom, + In whatever hour, in whatever part of the soil, + We draw this vital air, + We are brothers; we must be bound by one compact; + Accursed he who infringes it, + Who raises himself upon the weak who weep, + Who saddens an immortal spirit." + + +This law cannot fail of universal recognition. Accursed be he who +willingly saddens an immortal spirit--doomed to infamy in later, wiser +ages, doomed in future stages of his own being to deadly penance, only +short of death. Accursed be he who sins in ignorance, if that +ignorance be caused by sloth. + +We sicken no less at the pomp than the strife of words. We feel that +never were lungs so puffed with the wind of declamation, on moral and +religious subjects, as now. We are tempted to implore these +"word-heroes," these word-Catos, word-Christs, to beware of cant +[Footnote: Dr. Johnson's one piece of advice should be written on +every door: "Clear your mind of cant." But Byron, to whom it was so +acceptable, in clearing away the noxious vine, shook down the +building. Sterling's emendation is worthy of honor: + + "Realize your cant, not cast it off."] + +above all things; to remember that hypocrisy is the most hopeless as +well as the meanest of crimes, and that those must surely be polluted +by it, who do not reserve a part of their morality and religion for +private use. Landor says that he cannot have a great deal of mind who +cannot afford to let the larger part of it lie fallow; and what is true +of genius is not less so of virtue. The tongue is a valuable member, +but should appropriate but a small part of the vital juices that are +needful all over the body. We feel that the mind may "grow black and +rancid in the smoke" even "of altars." We start up from the harangue +to go into our closet and shut the door. There inquires the spirit, +"Is this rhetoric the bloom of healthy blood, or a false pigment +artfully laid on?" And yet again we know where is so much smoke, must +be some fire; with so much talk about virtue and freedom, must be +mingled some desire for them; that it cannot be in vain that such have +become the common topics of conversation among men, rather than schemes +for tyranny and plunder, that the very newspapers see it best to +proclaim themselves "Pilgrims," "Puritans," "Heralds of Holiness." The +king that maintains so costly a retinue cannot be a mere boast, or +Carabbas fiction. We have waited here long in the dust; we are tired +and hungry; but the triumphal procession must appear at last. + +Of all its banners, none has been more steadily upheld, and under none +have more valor and willingness for real sacrifices been shown, than +that of the champions of the enslaved African. And this band it is, +which, partly from a natural following out of principles, partly +because many women have been prominent in that cause, makes, just now, +the warmest appeal in behalf of Woman. + +Though there has been a growing liberality on this subject, yet +society at large is not so prepared for the demands of this party, but +that its members are, and will be for some time, coldly regarded as +the Jacobins of their day. + +"Is it not enough," cries the irritated trader, "that you have done +all you could to break up the national union, and thus destroy the +prosperity of our country, but now you must be trying to break up +family union, to take my wife away from the cradle and the +kitchen-hearth to vote at polls, and preach from a pulpit? Of course, +if she does such things, she cannot attend to those of her own sphere. +She is happy enough as she is. She has more leisure than I +have,--every means of improvement, every indulgence." + +"Have you asked her whether she was satisfied with these +_indulgences_?" + +"No, but I know she is. She is too amiable to desire what would make +me unhappy, and too judicious to wish to step beyond the sphere of her +sex. I will never consent to have our peace disturbed by any such +discussions." + +"'Consent--you?' it is not consent from you that is in question--it is +assent from your wife." + +"Am not I the head of my house?" + +"You are not the head of your wife. God has given her a mind of her own. + +"I am the head, and she the heart." + +"God grant you play true to one another, then! I suppose I am to be +grateful that you did not say she was only the hand. If the head +represses no natural pulse of the heart, there can be no question as +to your giving your consent. Both will be of one accord, and there +needs but to present any question to get a full and true answer. There +is no need of precaution, of indulgence, nor consent. But our doubt is +whether the heart _does_ consent with the head, or only obeys its +decrees with a passiveness that precludes the exercise of its natural +powers, or a repugnance that turns sweet qualities to bitter, or a +doubt that lays waste the fair occasions of life. It is to ascertain +the truth that we propose some liberating measures." + +Thus vaguely are these questions proposed and discussed at present. +But their being proposed at all implies much thought, and suggests +more. Many women are considering within themselves what they need that +they have not, and what they can have if they find they need it. Many +men are considering whether women are capable of being and having more +than they are and have, _and_ whether, if so, it will be best to +consent to improvement in their condition. + +This morning, I open the Boston "Daily Mail," and find in its "poet's +corner" a translation of Schiller's "Dignity of Woman." In the +advertisement of a book on America, I see in the table of contents +this sequence, "Republican Institutions. American Slavery. American +Ladies." + +I open the "_Deutsche Schnellpost_" published in New York, and +find at the head of a column, _Juden und Frauenemancipation in +Ungarn_--"Emancipation of Jews and Women in Hungary." + +The past year has seen action in the Rhode Island legislature, to +secure married women rights over their own property, where men showed +that a very little examination of the subject could teach them much; +an article in the Democratic Review on the same subject more largely +considered, written by a woman, impelled, it is said, by glaring wrong +to a distinguished friend, having shown the defects in the existing +laws, and the state of opinion from which they spring; and on answer +from the revered old man, J. Q. Adams, in some respects the Phocion of +his time, to an address made him by some ladies. To this last I shall +again advert in another place. + +These symptoms of the times have come under my view quite +accidentally: one who seeks, may, each month or week, collect more. + +The numerous party, whose opinions are already labeled and adjusted +too much to their mind to admit of any new light, strive, by lectures +on some model-woman of bride-like beauty and gentleness, by writing +and lending little treatises, intended to mark out with precision the +limits of Woman's sphere, and Woman's mission, to prevent other than +the rightful shepherd from climbing the wall, or the flock from using +any chance to go astray. + +Without enrolling ourselves at once on either side, let us look upon +the subject from the best point of view which to-day offers; no +better, it is to be feared, than a high house-top. A high hill-top, or +at least a cathedral-spire, would be desirable. + +It may well be an Anti-Slavery party that pleads for Woman, if we +consider merely that she does not hold property on equal terms with +men; so that, if a husband dies without making a will, the wife, +instead of taking at once his place as head of the family, inherits +only a part of his fortune, often brought him by herself, as if she +were a child, or ward only, not an equal partner. + +We will not speak of the innumerable instances in which profligate and +idle men live upon the earnings of industrious wives; or if the wives +leave them, and take with them the children, to perform the double +duty of mother and father, follow from place to place, and threaten to +rob them of the children, if deprived of the rights of a husband, as +they call them, planting themselves in their poor lodgings, +frightening them into paying tribute by taking from them the children, +running into debt at the expense of these otherwise so overtasked +helots. Such instances count up by scores within my own memory. I have +seen the husband who had stained himself by a long course of low vice, +till his wife was wearied from her heroic forgiveness, by finding that +his treachery made it useless, and that if she would provide bread for +herself and her children, she must be separate from his ill fame--I +have known this man come to install himself in the chamber of a woman +who loathed him, and say she should never take food without his +company. I have known these men steal their children, whom they knew +they had no means to maintain, take them into dissolute company, +expose them to bodily danger, to frighten the poor woman, to whom, it +seems, the fact that she alone had borne the pangs of their birth, and +nourished their infancy, does not give an equal right to them. I do +believe that this mode of kidnapping--and it is frequent enough in all +classes of society--will be by the next age viewed as it is by Heaven +now, and that the man who avails himself of the shelter of men's laws +to steal from a mother her own children, or arrogate any superior +right in them, save that of superior virtue, will bear the stigma he +deserves, in common with him who steals grown men from their +mother-land, their hopes, and their homes. + +I said, we will not speak of this now; yet I _have_ spoken, for +the subject makes me feel too much. I could give instances that would +startle the most vulgar and callous; but I will not, for the public +opinion of their own sex is already against such men, and where cases +of extreme tyranny are made known, there is private action in the +wife's favor. But she ought not to need this, nor, I think, can she +long. Men must soon see that as, on their own ground, Woman is the +weaker party, she ought to have legal protection, which would make +such oppression impossible. But I would not deal with "atrocious +instances," except in the way of illustration, neither demand from men +a partial redress in some one matter, but go to the root of the whole. +If principles could be established, particulars would adjust +themselves aright. Ascertain the true destiny of Woman; give her +legitimate hopes, and a standard within herself; marriage and all +other relations would by degrees be harmonized with these. + +But to return to the historical progress of this matter. Knowing that +there exists in the minds of men a tone of feeling toward women as +toward slaves, such as is expressed in the common phrase, "Tell that +to women and children;" that the infinite soul can only work through +them in already ascertained limits; that the gift of reason, Man's +highest prerogative, is allotted to them in much lower degree; that +they must be kept from mischief and melancholy by being constantly +engaged in active labor, which is to be furnished and directed by +those better able to think, &c., &c.,--we need not multiply instances, +for who can review the experience of last week without recalling words +which imply, whether in jest or earnest, these views, or views like +these,--knowing this, can we wonder that many reformers think that +measures are not likely to be taken in behalf of women, unless their +wishes could be publicly represented by women? + +"That can never be necessary," cry the other side. "All men are +privately influenced by women; each has his wife, sister, or female +friends, and is too much biased by these relations to fail of +representing their interests; and, if this is not enough, let them +propose and enforce their wishes with the pen. The beauty of home +would be destroyed, the delicacy of the sex be violated, the dignity +of halls of legislation degraded, by an attempt to introduce them +there. Such duties are inconsistent with those of a mother;" and then +we have ludicrous pictures of ladies in hysterics at the polls, and +senate-chambers filled with cradles. + +But if, in reply, we admit as truth that Woman seems destined by +nature rather for the inner circle, we must add that the arrangements +of civilized life have not been, as yet, such as to secure it to her. +Her circle, if the duller, is not the quieter. If kept from +"excitement," she is not from drudgery. Not only the Indian squaw +carries the burdens of the camp, but the favorites of Louis XIV. +accompany him in his journeys, and the washerwoman stands at her tub, +and carries home her work at all seasons, and in all states of health. +Those who think the physical circumstances of Woman would make a part +in the affairs of national government unsuitable, are by no means +those who think it impossible for negresses to endure field-work, even +during pregnancy, or for sempstresses to go through their killing +labors. + +As to the use of the pen, there was quite as much opposition to +Woman's possessing herself of that help to free agency as there is now +to her seizing on the rostrum or the desk; and she is likely to draw, +from a permission to plead her cause that way, opposite inferences to +what might be wished by those who now grant it. + +As to the possibility of her filling with grace and dignity any such +position, we should think those who had seen the great actresses, and +heard the Quaker preachers of modern times, would not doubt that Woman +can express publicly the fulness of thought and creation, without +losing any of the peculiar beauty of her sex. What can pollute and +tarnish is to act thus from any motive except that something needs to +be said or done. Woman could take part in the processions, the songs, +the dances of old religion; no one fancied her delicacy was impaired +by appearing in public for such a cause. + +As to her home, she is not likely to leave it more than she now does +for balls, theatres, meetings for promoting missions, revival +meetings, and others to which she flies, in hope of an animation for +her existence commensurate with what she sees enjoyed by men. +Governors of ladies'-fairs are no less engrossed by such a charge, +than the governor of a state by his; presidents of Washingtonian +societies no less away from home than presidents of conventions. If +men look straitly to it, they will find that, unless their lives are +domestic, those of the women will not be. A house is no home unless it +contain food and fire for the mind as well as for the body. The female +Greek, of our day, is as much in the street as the male to cry, "What +news?" We doubt not it was the same in Athens of old. The women, shut +out from the market-place, made up for it at the religious festivals. +For human beings are not so constituted that they can live without +expansion. If they do not get it in one way, they must in another, or +perish. + +As to men's representing women fairly at present, while we hear from +men who owe to their wives not only all that is comfortable or +graceful, but all that is wise, in the arrangement of their lives, the +frequent remark, "You cannot reason with a woman,"--when from those of +delicacy, nobleness, and poetic culture, falls the contemptuous phrase +"women and children," and that in no light sally of the hour, but in +works intended to give a permanent statement of the best +experiences,--when not one man, in the million, shall I say? no, not +in the hundred million, can rise above the belief that Woman was made +_for Man_,--when such traits as these are daily forced upon the +attention, can we feel that Man will always do justice to the +interests of Woman? Can we think that he takes a sufficiently +discerning and religious view of her office and destiny _ever_ to +do her justice, except when prompted by sentiment,--accidentally or +transiently, that is, for the sentiment will vary according to the +relations in which he is placed? The lover, the poet, the artist, are +likely to view her nobly. The father and the philosopher have some +chance of liberality; the man of the world, the legislator for +expediency, none. + +Under these circumstances, without attaching importance, in +themselves, to the changes demanded by the champions of Woman, we hail +them as signs of the times. We would have every arbitrary barrier +thrown down. We would have every path laid open to Woman as freely as +to Man. Were this done, and a slight temporary fermentation allowed to +subside, we should see crystallizations more pure and of more various +beauty. We believe the divine energy would pervade nature to a degree +unknown in the history of former ages, and that no discordant +collision, but a ravishing harmony of the spheres, would ensue. + +Yet, then and only then will mankind be ripe for this, when inward and +outward freedom for Woman as much as for Man shall be acknowledged as +a _right_, not yielded as a concession. As the friend of the +negro assumes that one man cannot by right hold another in bondage, so +should the friend of Woman assume that Man cannot by right lay even +well-meant restrictions on Woman. If the negro be a soul, if the woman +be a soul, apparelled in flesh, to one Master only are they +accountable. There is but one law for souls, and, if there is to be an +interpreter of it, he must come not as man, or son of man, but as son +of God. + +Were thought and feeling once so far elevated that Man should esteem +himself the brother and friend, but nowise the lord and tutor, of +Woman,--were he really bound with her in equal worship,--arrangements +as to function and employment would be of no consequence. What Woman +needs is not as a woman to act or rule, but as a nature to grow, as an +intellect to discern, as a soul to live freely and unimpeded, to +unfold such powers as were given her when we left our common home. If +fewer talents were given her, yet if allowed the free and full +employment of these, so that she may render back to the giver his own +with usury, she will not complain; nay, I dare to say she will bless +and rejoice in her earthly birth-place, her earthly lot. Let us +consider what obstructions impede this good era, and what signs give +reason to hope that it draws near. + +I was talking on this subject with Miranda, a woman, who, if any in +the world could, might speak without heat and bitterness of the +position of her sex. Her father was a man who cherished no sentimental +reverence for Woman, but a firm belief in the equality of the sexes. +She was his eldest child, and came to him at an age when he needed a +companion. From the time she could speak and go alone, he addressed +her not as a plaything, but as a living mind. Among the few verses he +ever wrote was a copy addressed to this child, when the first locks +were cut from her head; and the reverence expressed on this occasion +for that cherished head, he never belied. It was to him the temple of +immortal intellect. He respected his child, however, too much to be an +indulgent parent. He called on her for clear judgment, for courage, +for honor and fidelity; in short, for such virtues as he knew. In so +far as he possessed the keys to the wonders of this universe, he +allowed free use of them to her, and, by the incentive of a high +expectation, he forbade, so far as possible, that she should let the +privilege lie idle. + +Thus this child was early led to feel herself a child of the spirit. +She took her place easily, not only in the world of organized being, +but in the world of mind. A dignified sense of self-dependence was +given as all her portion, and she found it a sure anchor. Herself +securely anchored, her relations with others were established with +equal security. She was fortunate in a total absence of those charms +which might have drawn to her bewildering flatteries, and in a strong +electric nature, which repelled those who did not belong to her, and +attracted those who did. With men and women her relations were +noble,--affectionate without passion, intellectual without coldness. +The world was free to her, and she lived freely in it. Outward +adversity came, and inward conflict; but that faith and self-respect +had early been awakened which must always lead, at last, to an outward +serenity and an inward peace. + +Of Miranda I had always thought as an example, that the restraints +upon the sex were insuperable only to those who think them so, or who +noisily strive to break them. She had taken a course of her own, and +no man stood in her way. Many of her acts had been unusual, but +excited no uproar. Few helped, but none checked her; and the many men +who knew her mind and her life, showed to her confidence as to a +brother, gentleness as to a sister. And not only refined, but very +coarse men approved and aided one in whom they saw resolution and +clearness of design. Her mind was often the leading one, always +effective. + +When I talked with her upon these matters, and had said very much what +I have written, she smilingly replied; "And yet we must admit that I +have been fortunate, and this should not be. My good father's early +trust gave the first bias, and the rest followed, of course. It is +true that I have had less outward aid, in after years, than most +women; but that is of little consequence. Religion was early awakened +in my soul,--a sense that what the soul is capable to ask it must +attain, and that, though I might be aided and instructed by others, I +must depend on myself as the only constant friend. This +self-dependence, which was honored in me, is deprecated as a fault in +most women. They are taught to learn their rule from without, not to +unfold it from within. + +"This is the fault of Man, who is still vain, and wishes to be more +important to Woman than, by right, he should be." + +"Men have not shown this disposition toward you," I said. + +"No; because the position I early was enabled to take was one of +self-reliance. And were all women as sure of their wants as I was, the +result would be the same. But they are so overloaded with precepts by +guardians, who think that nothing is so much to be dreaded for a woman +as originality of thought or character, that their minds are impeded +by doubts till they lose their chance of fair, free proportions. The +difficulty is to got them to the point from which they shall naturally +develop self-respect, and learn self-help. + +"Once I thought that men would help to forward this state of things +more than I do now. I saw so many of them wretched in the connections +they had formed in weakness and vanity. They seemed so glad to esteem +women whenever they could. + +"'The soft arms of affection,' said one of the most discerning +spirits, 'will not suffice for me, unless on them I see the steel +bracelets of strength.' + +"But early I perceived that men never, in any extreme of despair, +wished to be women. On the contrary, they were ever ready to taunt one +another, at any sign of weakness, with, + + "'Art thou not like the women, who,'-- + + +The passage ends various ways, according to the occasion and rhetoric +of the speaker. When they admired any woman, they were inclined to +speak of her as 'above her sex.' Silently I observed this, and feared +it argued a rooted scepticism, which for ages had been fastening on +the heart, and which only an age of miracles could eradicate. Ever I +have been treated with great sincerity; and I look upon it as a signal +instance of this, that an intimate friend of the other sex said, in a +fervent moment, that I 'deserved in some star to be a man.' He was +much surprised when I disclosed my view of my position and hopes, when +I declared my faith that the feminine side, the side of love, of +beauty, of holiness, was now to have its full chance, and that, if +either were better, it was better now to be a woman; for even the +slightest achievement of good was furthering an especial work of our +time. He smiled incredulously. 'She makes the best she can of it,' +thought he. 'Let Jews believe the pride of Jewry, but I am of the +better sort, and know better.' + +"Another used as highest praise, in speaking of a character in +literature, the words 'a manly woman.' + +"So in the noble passage of Ben Jonson: + + 'I meant the day-star should not brighter ride, + Nor shed like influence, from its lucent seat; + I meant she should be courteous, facile, sweet, + Free from that solemn vice of greatness, pride; + I meant each softest virtue there should meet, + Fit in that softer bosom to abide, + Only a learned and a _manly_ soul + I purposed her, that should with even powers + The rock, the spindle, and the shears control + Of destiny, and spin her own free hours.'" + + +"Me thinks," said I, "you are too fastidious in objecting to this. +Jonson, in using the word 'manly,' only meant to heighten the picture +of this, the true, the intelligent fate, with one of the deeper +colors." + +"And yet," said she, "so invariable is the use of this word where a +heroic quality is to be described, and I feel so sure that persistence +and courage are the most womanly no less than the most manly +qualities, that I would exchange these words for others of a larger +sense, at the risk of marring the fine tissue of the verse. Read, 'A +heavenward and instructed soul,' and I should be satisfied. Let it not +be said, wherever there is energy or creative genius, 'She has a +masculine mind.'" + + * * * * * + +This by no means argues a willing want of generosity toward Woman. Man +is as generous towards her as he knows how to be. + +Wherever she has herself arisen in national or private history, and +nobly shone forth in any form of excellence, men have received her, +not only willingly, but with triumph. Their encomiums, indeed, are +always, in some sense, mortifying; they show too much surprise. "Can +this be you?" he cries to the transfigured Cinderella; "well, I should +never have thought it, but I am very glad. We will tell every one that +you have '_surpassed your sex_.'" + +In every-day life, the feelings of the many are stained with vanity. +Each wishes to be lord in a little world, to be superior at least over +one; and he does not feel strong enough to retain a life-long +ascendency over a strong nature. Only a Theseus could conquer before +he wed the Amazonian queen. Hercules wished rather to rest with +Dejanira, and received the poisoned robe as a fit guerdon. The tale +should be interpreted to all those who seek repose with the weak. + +But not only is Man vain and fond of power, but the same want of +development, which thus affects him morally, prevents his +intellectually discerning the destiny of Woman: The boy wants no +woman, but only a girl to play ball with him, and mark his pocket +handkerchief. + +Thus, in Schiller's Dignity of Woman, beautiful as the poem is, there +is no "grave and perfect man," but only a great boy to be softened and +restrained by the influence of girls. Poets--the elder brothers of +their race--have usually seen further; but what can you expect of +every-day men, if Schiller was not more prophetic as to what women +must be? Even with Richter, one foremost thought about a wife was that +she would "cook him something good." But as this is a delicate +subject, and we are in constant danger of being accused of slighting +what are called "the functions," let me say, in behalf of Miranda and +myself, that we have high respect for those who "cook something good," +who create and preserve fair order in houses, and prepare therein the +shining raiment for worthy inmates, worthy guests. Only these +"functions" must not be a drudgery, or enforced necessity, but a part +of life. Let Ulysses drive the beeves home, while Penelope there piles +up the fragrant loaves; they are both well employed if these be done +in thought and love, willingly. But Penelope is no more meant for a +baker or weaver solely, than Ulysses for a cattle-herd. + +The sexes should not only correspond to and appreciate, but prophesy +to one another. In individual instances this happens. Two persons love +in one another the future good which they aid one another to unfold. +This is imperfectly or rarely done in the general life. Man has gone +but little way; now he is waiting to see whether Woman can keep step +with him; but, instead of calling but, like a good brother, "You can +do it, if you only think so," or impersonally, "Any one can do what he +tries to do;" he often discourages with school-boy brag: "Girls can't +do that; girls can't play ball." But let any one defy their taunts, +break through and be brave and secure, they rend the air with shouts. + +This fluctuation was obvious in a narrative I have lately seen, the +story of the life of Countess Emily Plater, the heroine of the last +revolution in Poland. The dignity, the purity, the concentrated +resolve, the calm, deep enthusiasm, which yet could, when occasion +called, sparkle up a holy, an indignant fire, make of this young +maiden the figure I want for my frontispiece. Her portrait is to be +seen in the book, a gentle shadow of her soul. Short was the career. +Like the Maid of Orleans, she only did enough to verify her +credentials, and then passed from a scene on which she was, probably, +a premature apparition. + +When the young girl joined the army, where the report of her exploits +had preceded her, she was received in a manner that marks the usual +state of feeling. Some of the officers were disappointed at her quiet +manners; that she had not the air and tone of a stage-heroine. They +thought she could not have acted heroically unless in buskins; had no +idea that such deeds only showed the habit of her mind. Others talked +of the delicacy of her sex, advised her to withdraw from perils and +dangers, and had no comprehension of the feelings within her breast +that made this impossible. The gentle irony of her reply to these +self-constituted tutors (not one of whom showed himself her equal in +conduct or reason), is as good as her indignant reproof at a later +period to the general, whose perfidy ruined all. + +But though, to the mass of these men, she was an embarrassment and a +puzzle, the nobler sort viewed her with a tender enthusiasm worthy of +her. "Her name," said her biographer, "is known throughout Europe. I +paint her character that she may be as widely loved." + +With pride, he shows her freedom from all personal affections; that, +though tender and gentle in an uncommon degree, there was no room for +a private love in her consecrated life. She inspired those who knew +her with a simple energy of feeling like her own. "We have seen," they +felt, "a woman worthy the name, capable of all sweet affections, +capable of stern virtue." + +It is a fact worthy of remark, that all these revolutions in favor of +liberty have produced female champions that share the same traits, but +Emily alone has found a biographer. Only a near friend could have +performed for her this task, for the flower was reared in feminine +seclusion, and the few and simple traits of her history before her +appearance in the field could only have been known to the domestic +circle. Her biographer has gathered them up with a brotherly devotion. + +No! Man is not willingly ungenerous. He wants faith and love, because +he is not yet himself an elevated being. He cries, with sneering +scepticism, "Give us a sign." But if the sign appears, his eyes +glisten, and he offers not merely approval, but homage. + +The severe nation which taught that the happiness of the race was +forfeited through the fault of a Woman, and showed its thought of what +sort of regard Man owed her, by making him accuse her on the first +question to his God,--who gave her to the patriarch as a handmaid, +and, by the Mosaical law, bound her to allegiance like a serf,--even +they greeted, with solemn rapture, all great and holy women as +heroines, prophetesses, judges in Israel; and, if they made Eve listen +to the serpent, gave Mary as a bride to the Holy Spirit. In other +nations it has been the same down to our day. To the Woman who could +conquer a triumph was awarded. And not only those whose strength was +recommended to the heart by association with goodness and beauty, but +those who were bad, if they were steadfast and strong, had their +claims allowed. In any age a Semiramis, an Elizabeth of England, a +Catharine of Russia, makes her place good, whether in a large or small +circle. How has a little wit, a little genius, been celebrated in a +Woman! What an intellectual triumph was that of the lonely Aspasia, +and how heartily acknowledged! She, indeed, met a Pericles. But what +annalist, the rudest of men, the most plebeian of husbands, will spare +from his page one of the few anecdotes of Roman women--Sappho! +Eloisa! The names are of threadbare celebrity. Indeed, they were not +more suitably met in their own time than the Countess Colonel Plater +on her first joining the army. They had much to mourn, and their great +impulses did not find due scope. But with time enough, space enough, +their kindred appear on the scene. Across the ages, forms lean, trying +to touch the hem of their retreating robes. The youth here by my side +cannot be weary of the fragments from the life of Sappho. He will not +believe they are not addressed to himself, or that he to whom they +were addressed could be ungrateful. A recluse of high powers devotes +himself to understand and explain the thought of Eloisa; he asserts +her vast superiority in soul and genius to her master; he curses the +fate that casts his lot in another age than hers. He could have +understood her; he would have been to her a friend, such as Abelard +never could. And this one Woman he could have loved and reverenced, +and she, alas! lay cold in her grave hundreds of years ago. His sorrow +is truly pathetic. These responses, that come too late to give joy, +are as tragic as anything we know, and yet the tears of later ages +glitter as they fall on Tasso's prison bars. And we know how +elevating to the captive is the security that somewhere an +intelligence must answer to his. + +The Man habitually most narrow towards Woman will be flushed, as by +the worst assault on Christianity, if you say it has made no +improvement in her condition. Indeed, those most opposed to new acts +in her favor, are jealous of the reputation of those which have been +done. + +We will not speak of the enthusiasm excited by actresses, +improvisatrici, female singers,--for here mingles the charm of beauty +and grace,--but female authors, even learned women, if not +insufferably ugly and slovenly, from the Italian professor's daughter +who taught behind the curtain, down to Mrs. Carter and Madame Dacier, +are sure of an admiring audience, and, what is far better, chance to +use what they have learned, and to learn more, if they can once get a +platform on which to stand. + +But how to get this platform, or how to make it of reasonably easy +access, is the difficulty. Plants of great vigor will almost always +struggle into blossom, despite impediments. But there should be +encouragement, and a free genial atmosphere for those of move timid +sort, fair play for each in its own kind. Some are like the little, +delicate flowers which love to hide in the dripping mosses, by the +sides of mountain torrents, or in the shade of tall trees. But others +require an open field, a rich and loosened soil, or they never show +their proper hues. + +It may be said that Man does not have his fair play either; his +energies are repressed and distorted by the interposition of +artificial obstacles. Ay, but he himself has put them there; they have +grown out of his own imperfections. If there _is_ a misfortune in +Woman's lot, it is in obstacles being interposed by men, which do +_not_ mark her state; and, if they express her past ignorance, do +not her present needs. As every Man is of Woman born, she has slow but +sure means of redress; yet the sooner a general justness of thought +makes smooth the path, the better. + +Man is of Woman born, and her face bends over him in infancy with an +expression he can never quite forget. Eminent men have delighted to +pay tribute to this image, and it is an hackneyed observation, that +most men of genius boast some remarkable development in the mother. +The rudest tar brushes off a tear with his coat-sleeve at the hallowed +name. The other day, I met a decrepit old man of seventy, on a +journey, who challenged the stage company to guess where he was going. +They guessed aright, "To see your mother." "Yes," said he, "she is +ninety-two, but has good eyesight still, they say. I have not seen her +these forty years, and I thought I could not die in peace without." I +should have liked his picture painted as a companion-piece to that of +a boisterous little boy, whom I saw attempt to declaim at a school +exhibition-- + + "O that those lips had language! Life has passed + With me but roughly since I heard thee last." + + +He got but very little way before sudden tears shamed him from the +stage. + +Some gleams of the same expression which shone down upon his infancy, +angelically pure and benign, visit Man again with hopes of pure love, +of a holy marriage. Or, if not before, in the eyes of the mother of +his child they again are seen, and dim fancies pass before his mind, +that Woman may not have been born for him alone, but have come from +heaven, a commissioned soul, a messenger of truth and love; that she +can only make for him a home in which he may lawfully repose, in so +far as she is + + "True to the kindred points of Heaven and home." + + +In gleams, in dim fancies, this thought visits the mind of common men. +It is soon obscured by the mists of sensuality, the dust of routine, +and he thinks it was only some meteor or ignis fatuus that shone. But, +as a Rosicrucian lamp, it burns unwearied, though condemned to the +solitude of tombs; and to its permanent life, as to every truth, each +age has in some form borne witness. For the truths, which visit the +minds of careless men only in fitful gleams, shine with radiant +clearness into those of the poet, the priest, and the artist. + +Whatever may have been the domestic manners of the ancients, the idea +of Woman was nobly manifested in their mythologies and poems, whore +she appears as Site in the Ramayana, a form of tender purity; as the +Egyptian Isis, [Footnote: For an adequate description of the Isis, see +Appendix A.] of divine wisdom never yet surpassed. In Egypt, too, the +Sphynx, walking the earth with lion tread, looked out upon its marvels +in the calm, inscrutable beauty of a virgin's face, and the Greek +could only add wings to the great emblem. In Greece, Ceres and +Proserpine, significantly termed "the great goddesses," were seen +seated side by side. They needed not to rise for any worshipper or any +change; they were prepared for all things, as those initiated to their +mysteries knew. More obvious is the meaning of these three forms, the +Diana, Minerva, and Vesta. Unlike in the expression of their beauty, +but alike in this,--that each was self-sufficing. Other forms were +only accessories and illustrations, none the complement to one like +these. Another might, indeed, be the companion, and the Apollo and +Diana set off one another's beauty. Of the Vesta, it is to be +observed, that not only deep-eyed, deep-discerning Greece, but ruder +Rome, who represents the only form of good man (the always busy +warrior) that could be indifferent to Woman, confided the permanence +of its glory to a tutelary goddess, and her wisest legislator spoke of +meditation as a nymph. + +Perhaps in Rome the neglect of Woman was a reaction on the manners of +Etruria, where the priestess Queen, warrior Queen, would seem to have +been so usual a character. + +An instance of the noble Roman marriage, where the stern and calm +nobleness of the nation was common to both, we see in the historic +page through the little that is told us of Brutus and Portia. +Shakspeare has seized on the relation in its native lineaments, +harmonizing the particular with the universal; and, while it is +conjugal love, and no other, making it unlike the same relation as +seen in Cymbeline, or Othello, even as one star differeth from another +in glory. + + "By that great vow + Which did incorporate and make us one, + Unfold to me, yourself, your other half, + Why you are heavy. ... + Dwell I but in the suburbs + Of your good pleasure? If it be no more, + Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife." + + +Mark the sad majesty of his tone in answer. Who would not have lent a +life-long credence to that voice of honor? + + "You are my true and honorable wife; + As dear to me as are the ruddy drops + That visit this sad heart." + + +It is the same voice that tells the moral of his life in the last +words-- + + "Countrymen, + My heart doth joy, that, yet in all my life, + I found no man but he was true to me." + + +It was not wonderful that it should be so. + +Shakspeare, however, was not content to let Portia rest her plea for +confidence on the essential nature of the marriage bond: + + "I grant I am a woman; but withal, + A woman that lord Brutus took to wife. + I grant I am a woman; but withal, + A woman well reputed--Cato's daughter. + Think you I am _no stronger than my sex_, + Being so fathered and so husbanded?" + + +And afterward in the very scene where Brutus is suffering under that +"insupportable and touching loss," the death of his wife, Cassius +pleads-- + + "Have you not love enough to bear with me, + When that rash humor which my mother gave me + Makes me forgetful? + + _Brutus_.--Yes, Cassius, and henceforth, + When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, + He'll think your mother chides, and leaves you so." + + +As indeed it was a frequent belief among the ancients, as with our +Indians, that the _body_ was inherited from the mother, the +_soul_ from the father. As in that noble passage of Ovid, already +quoted, where Jupiter, as his divine synod are looking down on the +funeral pyre of Hercules, thus triumphs-- + + "Neo nisi _materna_ Vulcanum parte potentem, + Sentiet. Aeternum est, a me quod traxit, et expers + Atque immune neois, nullaque domabile flamma + Idque ego defunctum terra coelestibus oris + Accipiam, cunctisque meum laetabile factum + Dis fore confido. + + "The part alone of gross _maternal_ flame + Fire shall devour; while that from me he drew + Shall live immortal and its force renew; + That, when he's dead, I'll raise to realms above; + Let all the powers the righteous act approve." + + +It is indeed a god speaking of his union with an earthly Woman, but it +expresses the common Roman thought as to marriage,--the same which +permitted a man to lend his wife to a friend, as if she were a chattel + + "She dwelt but in the suburbs of his good pleasure." + + +Yet the same city, as I have said, leaned on the worship of Vesta, the +Preserver, and in later times was devoted to that of Isis. In Sparta, +thought, in this respect as in all others, was expressed in the +characters of real life, and the women of Sparta were as much Spartans +as the men. The "citoyen, citoyenne" of France was here actualized. +Was not the calm equality they enjoyed as honorable as the devotion of +chivalry? They intelligently shared the ideal life of their nation. + +Like the men they felt: + + "Honor gone, all's gone: + Better never have been born." + + +They were the true friends of men. The Spartan, surely, would not +think that he received only his body from his mother. The sage, had he +lived in that community, could not have thought the souls of "vain and +foppish men will be degraded after death to the forms of women; and, +if they do not then make great efforts to retrieve themselves, will +become birds." + +(By the way, it is very expressive of the hard intellectuality of the +merely _mannish_ mind, to speak thus of birds, chosen always by +the _feminine_ poet as the symbols of his fairest thoughts.) + +We are told of the Greek nations in general, that Woman occupied there +an infinitely lower place than Man. It is difficult to believe this, +when we see such range and dignity of thought on the subject in the +mythologies, and find the poets producing such ideals as Cassandra, +Iphigenia, Antigone, Macaria; where Sibylline priestesses told the +oracle of the highest god, and he could not be content to reign with +a, court of fewer than nine muses. Even Victory wore a female form. + +But, whatever were the facts of daily life, I cannot complain of the +age and nation which represents its thought by such a symbol as I see +before me at this moment. It is a zodiac of the busts of gods and +goddesses, arranged in pairs. The circle breathes the music of a +heavenly order. Male and female heads are distinct in expression, but +equal in beauty, strength and calmness. Each male head is that of a +brother and a king,--each female of a sister and a queen. Could the +thought thus expressed be lived out, there would be nothing more to be +desired. There would be unison in variety, congeniality in difference. + +Coming nearer our own time, we find religion and poetry no less true +in their revelations. The rude man, just disengaged from the sod, the +Adam, accuses Woman to his God, and records her disgrace to their +posterity. He is not ashamed to write that he could be drawn from +heaven by one beneath him,--one made, he says, from but a small part +of himself. But in the same nation, educated by time, instructed by a +succession of prophets, we find Woman in as high a position as she has +ever occupied, No figure that has ever arisen to greet our eyes has +been received with more fervent reverence than that of the Madonna. +Heine calls her the _Dame du Comptoir_ of the Catholic church, +and this jeer well expresses a serious truth. + +And not only this holy and significant image was worshipped by the +pilgrim, and the favorite subject of the artist, but it exercised an +immediate influence on the destiny of the sex. The empresses who +embraced the cross converted sons and husbands. Whole calendars of +female saints, heroic dames of chivalry, binding the emblem of faith +on the heart of the best-beloved, and wasting the bloom of youth in +separation and loneliness, for the sake of duties they thought it +religion to assume, with innumerable forms of poesy, trace their +lineage to this one. Nor, however imperfect may be the action, in our +day, of the faith thus expressed, and though we can scarcely think it +nearer this ideal than that of India or Greece was near their ideal, +is it in vain that the truth has been recognized, that Woman is not +only a part of Man, bone of his bone, and flesh of his flesh, born +that men might not be lonely--but that women are in themselves +possessors of and possessed by immortal souls. This truth undoubtedly +received a greater outward stability from the belief of the church +that the earthly parent of the Saviour of souls was a woman. + +The Assumption of the Virgin, as painted by sublime artists, as also +Petrarch's Hymn to the Madonna, [Footnote: Appendix B.] cannot have +spoken to the world wholly without result, yet oftentimes those who +had ears heard not. + +See upon the nations the influence of this powerful example. In Spain +look only at the ballads. Woman in these is "very Woman;" she is the +betrothed, the bride, the spouse of Man; there is on her no hue of the +philosopher, the heroine, the savante, but she looks great and noble. +Why? Because she is also, through her deep devotion, the betrothed of +Heaven. Her upturned eyes have drawn down the light that casts a +radiance round her. See only such a ballad as that of "Lady Teresa's +Bridal," where the Infanta, given to the Moorish bridegroom, calls +down the vengeance of Heaven on his unhallowed passion, and thinks it +not too much to expiate by a life in the cloister the involuntary +stain upon her princely youth. [Footnote: Appendix C.] It was this +constant sense of claims above those of earthly love or happiness that +made the Spanish lady who shared this spirit a guerdon to be won by +toils and blood and constant purity, rather than a chattel to be +bought for pleasure and service. + +Germany did hot need to _learn_ a high view of Woman; it was +inborn in that race. Woman was to the Teuton warrior his priestess, +his friend, his sister,--in truth, a wife. And the Christian statues +of noble pairs, as they lie above their graves in stone, expressing +the meaning of all the by-gone pilgrimage by hands folded in mutual +prayer, yield not a nobler sense of the place and powers of Woman than +belonged to the _altvater_ day. The holy love of Christ which +summoned them, also, to choose "the better part--that which could not +be taken from them," refined and hallowed in this nation a native +faith; thus showing that it was not the warlike spirit alone that left +the Latins so barbarous in this respect. + +But the Germans, taking so kindly to this thought, did it the more +justice. The idea of Woman in their literature is expressed both to a +greater height and depth than elsewhere. + +I will give as instances the themes of three ballads: + +One is upon a knight who had always the name of the Virgin on his +lips. This protected him all his life through, in various and +beautiful modes, both from sin and other dangers; and, when he died, a +plant sprang from his grave, which so gently whispered the Ave Maria +that none could pass it by with an unpurified heart. + +Another is one of the legends of the famous Drachenfels. A maiden, one +of the earliest converts to Christianity, was carried by the enraged +populace to this dread haunt of "the dragon's fabled brood," to be +their prey. She was left alone, but undismayed, for she knew in whom +she trusted. So, when the dragons came rushing towards her, she showed +them a crucifix and they crouched reverently at her feet. Next day the +people came, and, seeing these wonders, were all turned to the faith +which exalts the lowly. + +The third I have in mind is another of the Rhine legends. A youth is +sitting with the maid he loves on the shore of an isle, her fairy +kingdom, then perfumed by the blossoming grape-vines which draped its +bowers. They are happy; all blossoms with them, and life promises its +richest vine. A boat approaches on the tide; it pauses at their foot. +It brings, perhaps, some joyous message, fresh dew for their flowers, +fresh light on the wave. No! it is the usual check on such great +happiness. The father of the count departs for the crusade; will his +son join him, or remain to rule their domain, and wed her he loves? +Neither of the affianced pair hesitates a moment. "I must go with my +father,"--"Thou must go with thy father." It was one thought, one +word. "I will be here again," he said, "when these blossoms have +turned to purple grapes." "I hope so," she sighed, while the prophetic +sense said "no." + +And there she waited, and the grapes ripened, and were gathered into +the vintage, and he came not. Year after year passed thus, and no +tidings; yet still she waited. + +He, meanwhile, was in a Moslem prison. Long he languished there +without hope, till, at last, his patron saint appeared in vision and +announced his release, but only on condition of his joining the +monastic order for the service of the saint. + +And so his release was effected, and a safe voyage home given. And +once more he sets sail upon the Rhine. The maiden, still watching +beneath the vines, sees at last the object of all this patient love +approach--approach, but not to touch the strand to which she, with +outstretched arms, has rushed. He dares not trust himself to land, but +in low, heart-broken tones, tells her of Heaven's will; and that he, +in obedience to his vow, is now on his way to a convent on the +river-bank, there to pass the rest of his earthly life in the service +of the shrine. And then he turns his boat, and floats away from her +and hope of any happiness in this world, but urged, as he believes, by +the breath of Heaven. + +The maiden stands appalled, but she dares not murmur, and cannot +hesitate long. She also bids them prepare her boat. She follows her +lost love to the convent gate, requests an interview with the abbot, +and devotes her Elysian isle, where vines had ripened their ruby fruit +in vain for her, to the service of the monastery where her love was to +serve. Then, passing over to the nunnery opposite, she takes the veil, +and meets her betrothed at the altar; and for a life-long union, if +not the one they had hoped in earlier years. + +Is not this sorrowful story of a lofty beauty? Does it not show a +sufficiently high view of Woman, of Marriage? This is commonly the +chivalric, still more the German view. + +Yet, wherever there was a balance in the mind of Man, of sentiment +with intellect, such a result was sure. The Greek Xenophon has not +only painted us a sweet picture of the domestic Woman, in his +Economics, but in the Cyropedia has given, in the picture of Panthea, +a view of Woman which no German picture can surpass, whether lonely +and quiet with veiled lids, the temple of a vestal loveliness, or with +eyes flashing, and hair flowing to the free wind, cheering on the hero +to fight for his God, his country, or whatever name his duty might +bear at the time. This picture I shall copy by and by. Yet Xenophon +grew up in the same age with him who makes Iphigenia say to Achilles, + + "Better a thousand women should perish than one man cease to see + the light." + + +This was the vulgar Greek sentiment. Xenophon, aiming at the ideal +Man, caught glimpses of the ideal Woman also. From the figure of a +Cyrus the Pantheas stand not afar. They do not in thought; they would +not in life. + +I could swell the catalogue of instances far beyond the reader's +patience. But enough have been brought forward to show that, though +there has been great disparity betwixt the nations as between +individuals in their culture on this point, yet the idea of Woman has +always cast some rays and often been forcibly represented. + +Far less has Woman to complain that she has not had her share of +power. This, in all ranks of society, except the lowest, has been hers +to the extent that vanity would crave, far beyond what wisdom would +accept. In the very lowest, where Man, pressed by poverty, sees in +Woman only the partner of toils and cares, and cannot hope, scarcely +has an idea of, a comfortable home, he often maltreats her, and is +less influenced by her. In all ranks, those who are gentle and +uncomplaining, too candid to intrigue, too delicate to encroach, +suffer much. They suffer long, and are kind; verily, they have their +reward. But wherever Man is sufficiently raised above extreme poverty, +or brutal stupidity, to care for the comforts of the fireside, or the +bloom and ornament of life, Woman has always power enough, if she +choose to exert it, and is usually disposed to do so, in proportion to +her ignorance and childish vanity. Unacquainted with the importance of +life and its purposes, trained to a selfish coquetry and love of petty +power, she does not look beyond the pleasure of making herself felt at +the moment, and governments are shaken and commerce broken up to +gratify the pique of a female favorite. The English shopkeeper's wife +does not vote, but it is for her interest that the politician +canvasses by the coarsest flattery. France suffers no woman on her +throne, but her proud nobles kiss the dust at the feet of Pompadour +and Dubarry; for such flare in the lighted foreground where a Roland +would modestly aid in the closet. Spain (that same Spain which sang of +Ximena and the Lady Teresa) shuts up her women in the care of duennas, +and allows them no book but the breviary; but the ruin follows only +the more surely from the worthless favorite of a worthless queen. +Relying on mean precautions, men indeed cry peace, peace, where there +is no peace. + +It is not the transient breath of poetic incense that women want; each +can receive that from a lover. It is not life-long sway; it needs but +to become a coquette, a shrew, or a good cook, to be sure of that. It +is not money, nor notoriety, nor the badges of authority which men +have appropriated to themselves. If demands, made in their behalf, lay +stress on any of these particulars, those who make them have not +searched deeply into the need. The want is for that which at once +includes these and precludes them; which would not be forbidden power, +lest there be temptation to steal and misuse it; which would not have +the mind perverted by flattery from a worthiness of esteem; it is for +that which is the birthright of every being capable of receiving +it,--the freedom, the religious, the intelligent freedom of the +universe to use its means, to learn its secret, as far as Nature has +enabled them, with God alone for their guide and their judge. + +Ye cannot believe it, men; but the only reason why women over assume +what is more appropriate to you, is because you prevent them from +finding out what is fit for themselves. Were they free, were they wise +fully to develop the strength and beauty of Woman; they would never +wish to be men, or man-like. The well-instructed moon flies not from +her orbit to seize on the glories of her partner. No; for she knows +that one law rules, one heaven contains, one universe replies to them +alike. It is with women as with the slave: + + "Vor dem Sklaven, wenn er die Kette bricht, + Vor dem frelen Menschen erzittert nicht." + + +Tremble not before the free man, but before the slave who has chains +to break. + +In slavery, acknowledged slavery, women are on a par with men. Each is +a work-tool, an article of property, no more! In perfect freedom, such +as is painted in Olympus, in Swedenborg's angelic state, in the heaven +where there is no marrying nor giving in marriage, each is a purified +intelligence, an enfranchised soul,--no less. + + "Jene himmlische Gestalten + Sie fragen nicht nach Mann und Welb, + Und keine kielder, keine Falten + Umgeben den verklarten Leib." + + +The child who song this was a prophetic form, expressive of the +longing for a state of perfect freedom, pure love. She could not +remain here, but was translated to another air. And it may be that the +air of this earth will never be so tempered that such can bear it +long. But, while they stay, they must bear testimony to the truth they +are constituted to demand. + +That an era approaches which shall approximate nearer to such a temper +than any has yet done, there are many tokens; indeed, so many that +only a few of the most prominent can here be enumerated. + +The reigns of Elizabeth of England and Isabella of Castile foreboded +this era. They expressed the beginning of the new state; while they +forwarded its progress. These were strong characters, and in harmony +with the wants of their time. One showed that this strength did not +unfit a woman for the duties of a wife and a mother; the other, that +it could enable her to live and die alone, a wide energetic life, a +courageous death. Elizabeth is certainly no pleasing example. In +rising above the weakness, she did not lay aside the foibles ascribed +to her sex; but her strength must be respected now, as it was in her +own time. + +Mary Stuart and Elizabeth seem types, moulded by the spirit of the +time, and placed upon an elevated platform, to show to the coming ages +Woman such as the conduct and wishes of Man in general is likely to +make her. The first shows Woman lovely even to allurement; quick in +apprehension and weak in judgment; with grace and dignity of +sentiment, but no principle; credulous and indiscreet, yet artful; +capable of sudden greatness or of crime, but not of a steadfast +wisdom, nor self-restraining virtue. The second reveals Woman +half-emancipated and jealous of her freedom, such as she has figured +before or since in many a combative attitude, mannish, not equally +manly; strong and prudent more than great or wise; able to control +vanity, and the wish to rule through coquetry and passion, but not to +resign these dear deceits from the very foundation, as unworthy a +being capable of truth and nobleness. Elizabeth, taught by adversity, +put on her virtues as armor, more than produced them in a natural +order from her soul. The time and her position called on her to act +the wise sovereign, and she was proud that she could do so, but her +tastes and inclinations would have led her to act the weak woman. She +was without magnanimity of any kind. + +We may accept as an omen for ourselves that it was Isabella who +furnished Columbus with the means of coming hither. This land must pay +back its debt to Woman, without whose aid it would not have been +brought into alliance with the civilized world. + +A graceful and meaning figure is that introduced to us by Mr. +Prescott, in the Conquest of Mexico, in the Indian girl Marina, who +accompanied Cortez, and was his interpreter in all the various +difficulties of his career. She stood at his side, on the walls of the +besieged palace, to plead with her enraged countrymen. By her name he +was known in New Spain, and, after the conquest, her gentle +intercession was often of avail to the conquered. The poem of the +Future may be read in some features of the story of "Malinche." + +The influence of Elizabeth on literature was real, though, by sympathy +with its finer productions, she was no more entitled to give name to +an era than Queen Anne. It was simply that the fact of having a female +sovereign on the throne affected the course of a writer's thoughts. In +this sense, the presence of a woman on the throne always makes its +mark. Life is lived before the eyes of men, by which their +imaginations are stimulated as to the possibilities of Woman. "We will +die for our king, Maria, Theresa," cry the wild warriors, clashing +their swords; and the sounds vibrate through the poems of that +generation. The range of female character in Spenser alone might +content us for one period. Britomart and Belphoebe have as much room +on the canvas as Florimel; and, where this is the case, the haughtiest +Amazon will not murmur that Una should be felt to be the fairest type. + +Unlike as was the English queen to a fairy queen, we may yet conceive +that it was the image of a queen before the poet's mind that called up +this splendid court of women. Shakspeare's range is also great; but he +has left out the heroic characters, such as the Macaria of Greece, the +Britomart of Spenser. Ford and Massinger have, in this respect, soared +to a higher flight of feeling than he. It was the holy and heroic +Woman they most loved, and if they could not paint an Imogen, a +Desdemona, a Rosalind, yet, in those of a stronger mould, they showed +a higher ideal, though with so much less poetic power to embody it, +than we see in Portia or Isabella, the simple truth of Cordelia, +indeed, is of this sort. The beauty of Cordelia is neither male nor +female; it is the beauty of virtue. + +The ideal of love and marriage rose high in the mind of all the +Christian nations who were capable of grave and deep feeling. We may +take as examples of its English aspect the lines, + + "I could not love thee, dear, so much, + Loved I not honor more." + + +Or the address of the Commonwealth's man to his wife, as she looked +out from the Tower window to see him, for the last time, on his way to +the scaffold. He stood up in the cart, waved his hat, and cried, "To +Heaven, my love, to Heaven, and leave you in the storm!" + +Such was the love of faith and honor,--a love which stopped, like +Colonel Hutchinson's, "on this side idolatry," because it was +religious. The meeting of two such souls Donne describes as giving +birth to an "abler soul." + +Lord Herbert wrote to his love, + + "Were not our souls immortal made, + Our equal loves can make them such." + + +In the "Broken Heart," of Ford, Penthea, a character which engages my +admiration even more deeply than the famous one of Calanthe, is made +to present to the mind the most beautiful picture of what these +relations should be in their purity. Her life cannot sustain the +violation of what she so clearly feels. + +Shakspeare, too, saw that, in true love, as in fire, the utmost ardor +is coincident with the utmost purity. It is a true lover that exclaims +in the agony of Othello, + + "If thou art false, O then Heaven mocks Itself!" + + +The son, framed, like Hamlet, to appreciate truth in all the beauty of +relations, sinks into deep melancholy when he finds his natural +expectations disappointed. He has no other. She to whom he gave the +name, disgraces from his heart's shrine all the sex. + + "Frailty, thy name is Woman." + + +It is because a Hamlet could find cause to say so, that I have put the +line, whose stigma has never been removed, at the head of my work. +But, as a lover, surely Hamlet would not have so far mistaken, as to +have finished with such a conviction. He would have felt the faith of +Othello, and that faith could not, in his more dispassionate mind, +have been disturbed by calumny. + +In Spain, this thought is arrayed in a sublimity which belongs to the +sombre and passionate genius of the nation. Calderon's Justina resists +all the temptation of the Demon, and raises her lover, with her, above +the sweet lures of mere temporal happiness. Their marriage is vowed at +the stake; their goals are liberated together by the martyr flame into +"a purer state of sensation and existence." + +In Italy, the great poets wove into their lives an ideal love which +answered to the highest wants. It included those of the intellect and +the affections, for it was a love of spirit for spirit. It was not +ascetic, or superhuman, but, interpreting all things, gave their +proper beauty to details of the common life, the common day. The poet +spoke of his love, not as a flower to place in his bosom, or hold +carelessly in his hand, but as a light toward which he must find wings +to fly, or "a stair to heaven." He delighted to speak of her, not only +as the bride of his heart, but the mother of his soul; for he saw +that, in cases where the right direction had been taken, the greater +delicacy of her frame and stillness of her life left her more open +than is Man to spiritual influx. So he did not look upon her as +betwixt him and earth, to serve his temporal needs, but, rather, +betwixt him and heaven, to purify his affections and lead him to +wisdom through love. He sought, in her, not so much the Eve as the +Madonna. + +In these minds the thought, which gleams through all the legends of +chivalry, shines in broad intellectual effulgence, not to be +misinterpreted; and their thought is reverenced by the world, though +it lies far from the practice of the world as yet,--so far that it +seems as though a gulf of death yawned between. + +Even with such men the practice was, often, widely different from the +mental faith. I say mental; for if the heart were thoroughly alive +with it, the practice could not be dissonant. Lord Herbert's was a +marriage of convention, made for him at fifteen; he was not +discontented with it, but looked only to the advantages it brought of +perpetuating his family on the basis of a great fortune. He paid, in +act, what he considered a dutiful attention to the bond; his thoughts +travelled elsewhere; and while forming a high ideal of the +companionship of minds in marriage, he seems never to have doubted +that its realization must be postponed to some other state of being. +Dante, almost immediately after the death of Beatrice, married a lady +chosen for him by his friends, and Boccaccio, in describing the +miseries that attended, in this case, + + "The form of an union where union is none," + + +speaks as if these were inevitable to the connection, and as if the +scholar and poet, especially, could expect nothing but misery and +obstruction in a domestic partnership with Woman. + +Centuries have passed since, but civilized Europe is still in a +transition state about marriage; not only in practice but in thought. +It is idle to speak with contempt of the nations where polygamy is an +institution, or seraglios a custom, while practices far more debasing +haunt, well-nigh fill, every city and every town, and so far as union +of one with one is believed to be the only pure form of marriage, a +great majority of societies and individuals are still doubtful whether +the earthly bond must be a meeting of souls, or only supposes a +contract of convenience and utility. Were Woman established in the +rights of an immortal being, this could not be. She would not, in some +countries, be given away by her father, with scarcely more respect for +her feelings than is shown by the Indian chief, who sells his daughter +for a horse, and beats her if she runs away from her new home. Nor, in +societies where her choice is left free, would she be perverted, by +the current of opinion that seizes her, into the belief that she must +marry, if it be only to find a protector, and a home of her own. +Neither would Man, if he thought the connection of permanent +importance, form it so lightly. He would not deem it a trifle, that he +was to enter into the closest relations with another soul, which, if +not eternal in themselves, must eternally affect his growth. Neither, +did he believe Woman capable of friendship, [Footnote: See Appendix D, +Spinoza's view] would he, by rash haste, lose the chance of finding a +friend in the person who might, probably, live half a century by his +side. Did love, to his mind, stretch forth into infinity, he would not +miss his chance of its revelations, that he might the sooner rest from +his weariness by a bright fireside, and secure a sweet and graceful +attendant "devoted to him alone." Were he a step higher, he would not +carelessly enter into a relation where he might not be able to do the +duty of a friend, as well as a protector from external ill, to the +other party, and have a being in his power pining for sympathy, +intelligence and aid, that he could not give. + +What deep communion, what real intercourse is implied in sharing the +joys and cares of parentage, when any degree of equality is admitted +between the parties! It is true that, in a majority of instances, the +man looks upon his wife as an adopted child, and places her to the +other children in the relation of nurse or governess, rather than that +of parent. Her influence with them is sure; but she misses the +education which should enlighten that influence, by being thus +treated. It is the order of nature that children should complete the +education, moral and mental, of parents, by making them think what is +needed for the best culture of human beings, and conquer all faults +and impulses that interfere with their giving this to these dear +objects, who represent the world to them. Father and mother should +assist one another to learn what is required for this sublime +priesthood of Nature. But, for this, a religious recognition of +equality is required. + +Where this thought of equality begins to diffuse itself, it is shown +in four ways. + +First;--The household partnership. In our country, the woman looks for +a "smart but kind" husband; the man for a "capable, sweet-tempered" +wife. The man furnishes the house; the woman regulates it. Their +relation is one of mutual esteem, mutual dependence. Their talk is of +business; their affection shows itself by practical kindness. They +know that life goes more smoothly and cheerfully to each for the +other's aid; they are grateful and content. The wife praises her +husband as a "good provider;" the husband, in return, compliments her +as a "capital housekeeper." This relation is good so far as it goes. + +Next comes a closer tie, which takes the form either of mutual +idolatry or of intellectual companionship. The first, we suppose, is +to no one a pleasing subject of contemplation. The parties weaken and +narrow one another; they lock the gate against all the glories of the +universe, that they may live in a cell together. To themselves they +seem the only wise; to all others, steeped in infatuation; the gods +smile as they look forward to the crisis of cure; to men, the woman +seems an unlovely syren; to women, the man an effeminate boy. + +The other form, of intellectual companionship, has become more and +more frequent. Men engaged in public life, literary men, and artists, +have often found in their wives companions and confidants in thought +no less than in feeling. And, as the intellectual development of Woman +has spread wider and risen higher, they have, not unfrequently, shared +the same employment; as in the case of Roland and his wife, who were +friends in the household and in the nation's councils, read, regulated +home affairs, or prepared public documents together, indifferently. It +is very pleasant, in letters begun by Roland and finished by his wife, +to see the harmony of mind, and the difference of nature; one thought, +but various ways of treating it. + +This is one of the best instances of a marriage of friendship. It +was only friendship, whose basis was esteem; probably neither party +knew love, except by name. Roland was a good man, worthy to esteem, +and be esteemed; his wife as deserving of admiration as able to do +without it. + +Madame Roland is the fairest specimen we yet have of her class; as +clear to discern her aim, as valiant to pursue it, as Spenser's +Britomart; austerely set apart from all that did not belong to her, +whether as Woman or as mind. She is an antetype of a class to which +the coming time will afford a field--the Spartan matron, brought by +the culture of the age of books to intellectual consciousness and +expansion. Self-sufficingness, strength, and clearsightedness were, in +her, combined with a power of deep and calm affection. She, too, would +have given a son or husband the device for his shield, "Return with it +or upon it;" and this, not because she loved little, but much. The +page of her life is one of unsullied dignity. Her appeal to posterity +is one against the injustice of those who committed such crimes in the +name of Liberty. She makes it in behalf of herself and her husband. I +would put beside it, on the shelf, a little volume, containing a +similar appeal from the verdict of contemporaries to that of mankind, +made by Godwin in behalf of his wife, the celebrated, the by most men +detested, Mary Wolstonecraft. In his view, it was an appeal from the +injustice of those who did such wrong in the name of virtue. Were this +little book interesting for no other cause, it would be so for the +generous affection evinced under the peculiar circumstances. This man +had courage to love and honor this woman in the face of the world's +sentence, and of all that was repulsive in her own past history. He +believed he saw of what soul she was, and that the impulses she had +struggled to act out were noble, though the opinions to which they had +led might not be thoroughly weighed. He loved her, and he defended her +for the meaning and tendency of her inner life. It was a good fact. + +Mary Wolstonecraft, like Madame Dudevant (commonly known as George +Sand) in our day, was a woman whose existence better proved the need +of some new interpretation of Woman's Rights than anything she wrote. +Such beings as these, rich in genius, of most tender sympathies, +capable of high virtue and a chastened harmony, ought not to find +themselves, by birth, in a place so narrow, that, in breaking bonds, +they become outlaws. Were there as much room in the world for such, as +in Spenser's poem for Britomart, they would not run their heads so +wildly against the walls, but prize their shelter rather. They find +their way, at last, to light and air, but the world will not take off +the brand it has set upon them. The champion of the Rights of Woman +found, in Godwin, one who would plead that cause like a brother. He +who delineated with such purity of traits the form of Woman in the +Marguerite, of whom the weak St. Leon could never learn to be +worthy,--a pearl indeed whose price was above rubies,--was not false +in life to the faith by which he had hallowed his romance. He acted, +as he wrote, like a brother. This form of appeal rarely fails to touch +the basest man:--"Are you acting toward other women in the way you +would have men act towards your sister?" George Sand smokes, wears +male attire, wishes to be addressed as "Mon frere;"--perhaps, if she +found those who were as brothers indeed, she would not care whether +she were brother or sister. [Footnote: A note appended by my sister in +this place, in the first edition, is here omitted, because it is +incorporated in another article in this volume, treating of George +Sand more at length.--[ED.]] We rejoice to see that she, who expresses +such a painful contempt for men in most of her works, as shows she +must have known great wrong from them, depicts, in "La Roche Mauprat," +a man raised by the workings of love from the depths of savage +sensualism to a moral and intellectual life. It was love for a pure +object, for a steadfast woman, one of those who, the Italian said, +could make the "stair to heaven." + +This author, beginning like the many in assault upon bad institutions, +and external ills, yet deepening the experience through comparative +freedom, sees at last that the only efficient remedy must come from +individual character. These bad institutions, indeed, it may always be +replied, prevent individuals from forming good character, therefore we +must remove them. Agreed; yet keep steadily the higher aim in view. +Could you clear away all the bad forms of society, it is vain, unless +the individual begin to be ready for better. There must be a parallel +movement in these two branches of life. And all the rules left by +Moses availed less to further the best life than the living example of +one Messiah. + +Still the mind of the age struggles confusedly with these problems, +better discerning as yet the ill it can no longer bear, than the good +by which it may supersede it. But women like Sand will speak now and +cannot be silenced; their characters and their eloquence alike +foretell an era when such as they shall easier learn to lead true +lives. But though such forebode, not such shall be parents of it. +[Footnote: Appendix E.] Those who would reform the world must show that +they do not speak in the heat of wild impulse; their lives must be +unstained by passionate error; they must be severe lawgivers to +themselves. They must be religious students of the divine purpose with +regard to man, if they would not confound the fancies of a day with +the requisitions of eternal good. Their liberty must be the liberty of +law and knowledge. But as to the transgressions against custom which +have caused such outcry against those of noble intention, it may be +observed that the resolve of Eloisa to be only the mistress of +Abelard, was that of one who saw in practice around her the contract +of marriage made the seal of degradation. Shelley feared not to be +fettered, unless so to be was to be false. Wherever abuses are seen, +the timid will suffer; the bold will protest. But society has a right +to outlaw them till she has revised her law; and this she must be +taught to do, by one who speaks with authority, not in anger or haste. + +If Godwin's choice of the calumniated authoress of the "Rights of +Woman," for his honored wife, be a sign of a new era, no less so is an +article to which I have alluded some pages back, published five or six +years ago in one of the English Reviews, where the writer, in doing +fall justice to Eloisa, shows his bitter regret that she lives not now +to love him, who might have known bettor how to prize her love than +did the egotistical Abelard. + +These marriages, these characters, with all their imperfections, +express an onward tendency. They speak of aspiration of soul, of +energy of mind, seeking clearness and freedom. Of a like promise are +the tracts lately published by Goodwyn Barmby (the European Pariah, as +he calls himself) and his wife Catharine. Whatever we may think of +their measures, we see in them wedlock; the two minds are wed by the +only contract that can permanently avail, that of a common faith and a +common purpose. + +We might mention instances, nearer home, of minds, partners in work +and in life, sharing together, on equal terms, public and private +interests, and which wear not, on any side, the aspect of offence +shown by those last-named: persons who steer straight onward, yet, in +our comparatively free life, have not been obliged to run their heads +against any wall. But the principles which guide them might, under +petrified and oppressive institutions, have made them warlike, +paradoxical, and, in some sense, Pariahs. The phenomena are different, +the law is the same, in all these cases. Men and women have been +obliged to build up their house anew from the very foundation. If they +found stone ready in the quarry, they took it peaceably; otherwise +they alarmed the country by pulling down old towers to get materials. + +These are all instances of marriage as intellectual companionship. The +parties meet mind to mind, and a mutual trust is produced, which can +buckler them against a million. They work together for a common, +purpose, and, in all these instances, with the same implement,--the +pen. The pen and the writing-desk furnish forth as naturally the +retirement of Woman as of Man. + +A pleasing expression, in this kind, is afforded by the union in the +names of the Howitts. William and Mary Howitt we heard named together +for years, supposing them to be brother and sister; the equality of +labors and reputation, even so, was auspicious; more so, now we find +them man and wife. In his late work on Germany, Howitt mentions his +wife, with pride, as one among the constellation of distinguished +English-women, and in a graceful, simple manner. And still we +contemplate with pleasure the partnership in literature and affection +between the Howitts,--the congenial pursuits and productions--the +pedestrian tours wherein the married pair showed that marriage, on a +wide enough basis, does not destroy the "inexhaustible" entertainment +which lovers find in one another's company. + +In naming these instances, I do not mean to imply that community of +employment is essential to the union of husband and wife, more than to +the union of friends. Harmony exists in difference, no less than in +likeness, if only the same key-note govern both parts. Woman the poem, +Man the poet! Woman the heart, Man the head! Such divisions are only +important when they are never to be transcended. If nature is never +bound down, nor the voice of inspiration stifled, that is enough. We +are pleased that women should write and speak, if they feel need of +it, from having something to tell; but silence for ages would be no +misfortune, if that silence be from divine command, and not from Man's +tradition. + +While Goetz Von Berlichingen rides to battle, his wife is busy in the +kitchen; but difference of occupation does not prevent that community +of inward life, that perfect esteem, with which he says, + + "Whom God loves, to him gives he such a wife." + + +Manzoni thus dedicates his "Adelchi." + +"To his beloved and venerated wife, Enrichetta Luigia Blondel, who, +with conjugal affection and maternal wisdom, has preserved a virgin +mind, the author dedicates this 'Adelchi,' grieving that he could not, +by a more splendid and more durable monument, honor the dear name, and +the memory of so many virtues." + +The relation could not be fairer, nor more equal, if she, too, had +written poems. Yet the position of the parties might have been the +reverse as well; the Woman might have sung the deeds, given voice to +the life of the Man, and beauty would have been the result; as we see, +in pictures of Arcadia, the nymph singing to the shepherds, or the +shepherd, with his pipe, alluring the nymphs; either makes a good +picture. The sounding lyre requires not muscular strength, but energy +of soul to animate the hand which would control it. Nature seems to +delight in varying the arrangements, as if to show that she will be +fettered by no rule; and we must admit the same varieties that she +admits. + +The fourth and highest grade of marriage union is the religious, which +may be expressed as pilgrimage toward a common shrine. This includes +the others: home sympathies and household wisdom, for these pilgrims +must know how to assist each other along the dusty way; intellectual +communion, for how sad it would be on such a journey to have a +companion to whom you could not communicate your thoughts and +aspirations as they sprang to life; who would have no feeling for the +prospects that open, more and more glorious as we advance; who would +never see the flowers that may be gathered by the most industrious +traveller! It must include all these. + +Such a fellow-pilgrim Count Zinzendorf seems to have found in his +countess, of whom he thus writes: + +"Twenty-five years' experience has shown me that just the help-meet +whom I have is the only one that could suit my vocation. Who else +could have so carried through my family affairs? Who lived so +spotlessly before the world? Who so wisely aided me in my rejection of +a dry morality? Who so clearly set aside the Pharisaism which, as +years passed, threatened to creep in among us? Who so deeply discerned +as to the spirits of delusion which sought to bewilder us? Who would +have governed my whole economy so wisely, richly and hospitably, when +circumstances commanded? Who have taken indifferently the part of +servant or mistress, without, on the one side, affecting an especial +spirituality; on the other, being sullied by any worldly pride? Who, +in a community where all ranks are eager to be on a level, would, from +wise and real causes, have known how to maintain inward and outward +distinctions? Who, without a murmur, have seen her husband encounter +such dangers by land and sea? Who undertaken with him, and +_sustained_, such astonishing pilgrimages? Who, amid such +difficulties, would have always held up her head and supported me? Who +found such vast sums of money, and acquitted them on her own credit? +And, finally, who, of all human beings, could so well understand and +interpret to others my inner and outer being as this one, of such +nobleness in her way of thinking, such great intellectual capacity, +and so free from the theological perplexities that enveloped me!" + +Let any one peruse, with all intentness, the lineaments of this +portrait, and see if the husband had not reason, with this air of +solemn rapture and conviction, to challenge comparison? We are +reminded of the majestic cadence of the line whose feet stop in the +just proportion of Humanity, + + "Daughter of God and Mati, accomplished Eve!" + + +An observer [Footnote: Spangenberg] adds this testimony: + +"We may, in many marriages, regard it as the best arrangement, if the +man has so much advantage over his wife, that she can, without much +thought of her own, be led and directed by him as by a father. But it +was not so with the count and his consort. She was not made to be a +copy; she was an original; and, while she loved and honored him, she +thought for herself, on all subjects, with so much intelligence, that +he could and did look on her as a sister and friend also." + +Compare with this refined specimen of a religiously civilized life the +following imperfect sketch of a North American Indian, and we shall +see that the same causes will always produce the same results, The +Flying Pigeon (Ratchewaine) was the wife of a barbarous chief, who had +six others; but she was his only true wife, because the only one of a +strong and pure character, and, having this, inspired a veneration, as +like as the mind of the man permitted to that inspired by the Countess +Zinzendorf. She died when her son was only four years old, yet left on +his mind a feeling of reverent love worthy the thought of Christian +chivalry. Grown to manhood, he shed tears on seeing her portrait. + + +THE FLYING PIGEON. + +"Ratchewaine was chaste, mild, gentle in her disposition, kind, +generous, and devoted to her husband. A harsh word was never known to +proceed from her mouth; nor was she ever known to be in a passion. +Mabaskah used to say of her, after her death, that her hand was shut +when those who did not want came into her presence; but when the +really poor came in, it was like a strainer full of holes, letting all +she held in it pass through. In the exercise of generous feeling she +was uniform, It was not indebted for its exercise to whim, nor +caprice, nor partiality. No matter of what nation the applicant for +her bounty was, or whether at war or peace with her nation; if he were +hungry, she fed him; if naked, she clothed him; and, if houseless, she +gave him shelter. The continued exercise of this generous feeling kept +her poor. And she has been known to give away her last blanket--all +the honey that was in the lodge, the last bladder of bear's oil, and +the last piece of dried meat. + +"She was scrupulously exact in the observance of all the religious +rites which her faith imposed upon her. Her conscience is represented +to have been extremely tender. She often feared that her acts were +displeasing to the Great Spirit, when she would blacken her face, and +retire to some lone place, and fast and pray." + +To these traits should be added, but for want of room, anecdotes which +show the quick decision and vivacity of her mind. Her face was in +harmony with this combination. Her brow is as ideal and the eyes and +lids as devout and modest as the Italian picture of the Madonna, while +the lower part of the face has the simplicity and childish strength of +the Indian race. Her picture presents the finest specimen of Indian +beauty we have ever seen. Such a Woman is the sister and friend of all +beings, as the worthy Man is their brother and helper. + +With like pleasure we survey the pairs wedded on the eve of missionary +effort They, indeed, are fellow-pilgrims on the well-made road, and +whether or no they accomplish all they hope for the sad Hindoo, or the +nearer savage, we feel that in the burning waste their love is like to +be a healing dew, in the forlorn jungle a tent of solace to one +another. They meet, as children of one Father, to read together one +book of instruction. + +We must insert in this connection the most beautiful picture presented +by ancient literature of wedded love under this noble form. + +It is from the romance in which Xenophon, the chivalrous Greek, +presents his ideal of what human nature should be. + +The generals of Cyrus had taken captive a princess, a woman of +unequalled beauty, and hastened to present her to the prince as that +part of the spoil he would think most worthy of his acceptance. Cyrus +visits the lady, and is filled with immediate admiration by the +modesty and majesty with which she receives him. He finds her name is +Panthea, and that she is the wife of Abradatus, a young king whom she +entirely loves. He protects her as a sister, in his camp, till he can +restore her to her husband. + +After the first transports of joy at this reunion, the heart of +Panthea is bent on showing her love and gratitude to her magnanimous +and delicate protector. And as she has nothing so precious to give as +the aid of Abradatus, that is what she most wishes to offer. Her +husband is of one soul with her in this, as in all things. + +The description of her grief and self-destruction, after the death +which ensued upon this devotion, I have seen quoted, but never that of +their parting when she sends him forth to battle. I shall copy both. +If they have been read by any of my readers, they may be so again with +profit in this connection, for never were the heroism of a true Woman, +and the purity of love in a true marriage, painted in colors more +delicate and more lively. + +"The chariot of Abradatus, that had four perches and eight horses, was +completely adorned for him; and when he was going to put on his linen +corslet, which was a sort of armor used by those of his country, +Panthea brought him a golden helmet, and arm-pieces, broad bracelets +for his wrists, a purple habit that reached down to his feet, and +hung in folds at the bottom, and a crest dyed of a violet color. These +things she had made, unknown to her husband, and by taking the measure +of his armor. He wondered when he saw them, and inquired thus of +Panthea: 'And have you made me these arms, woman, by destroying your +own ornaments?' 'No, by Jove!' said Panthea, 'not what is the most +valuable of them; for it is you, if you appear to others to be what I +think you, that will be my greatest ornament.' And, saying that, she +put on him the armor, and, though she endeavored to conceal it, the +tears poured down her checks. When Abradatus, who was before a man of +fine appearance, was set out in those arms, he appeared the most +beautiful and noble of all, especially being likewise so by nature. +Then, taking the reins from the driver, he was just preparing to mount +the chariot, when Panthea, after she had desired all that were there +to retire, thus said: + +"'O Abradatus! if ever there was a woman who had a greater regard to +her husband than to her own soul, I believe you know that I am such an +one; what need I therefore speak of things in particular? for I reckon +that my actions have convinced you more than any words I can now use. +And yet, though I stand thus affected toward you, as you know I do, I +swear, by this friendship of mine and yours, that I certainly would +rather choose to be put under ground jointly with you, approving +yourself a brave man, than to live with you in disgrace and shame; so +much do I think you and myself worthy of the noblest things. Then I +think that we both lie under great obligations to Cyrus, that, when I +was a captive, and chosen out for himself, he thought fit to treat me +neither as a slave, nor, indeed, as a woman of mean account, but he +took and kept me for you, as if I were his brother's wife. Besides, +when Araspes, who was my guard, went away from him, I promised him, +that, if he would allow me to send for you, you would come to him, and +approve yourself a much better and move faithful friend than Araspes.' + +"Thus she spoke; and Abradatus, being struck with admiration at her +discourse, laying, his hand gently on her head, and lifting up his +eyes to heaven, made this prayer: 'Do thou, O greatest Jove! I grant +me to appear a husband worthy of Panthea, and a friend worthy of +Cyrus, who has done us so much honor!' + +"Having said this, he mounted the chariot by the door of the driver's +seat; and, after he had got up, when the driver shut the door, +Panthea, who had now no other way to salute him, kissed the seat of +the chariot. The chariot then moved, and she, unknown to him, +followed, till Abradatus turning about, and seeing her, said: 'Take +courage, Panthea! Fare you happily and well, and now go your ways.' On +this her women and servants carried her to her conveyance, and, laying +her down, concealed her by throwing the covering of a tent over her. +The people, though Abradatus and his chariot made a noble spectacle, +were not able to look at him till Panthea was gone." + +After the battle-- + +"Cyrus calling to some of his servants, 'Tell me, said he, 'has any +one seen Abradatus? for I admire that he now does not appear.' One +replied, 'My sovereign, it is because he is not living, but died in +the battle as he broke in with his chariot on the Egyptians. All the +rest, except his particular companions, they say, turned off when they +saw the Egyptians' compact body. His wife is now said to have taken up +his dead body, to have placed it in the carriage that she herself was +conveyed in, and to have brought it hither to some place on the river +Pactolus, and her servants are digging a grave on a certain elevation. +They say that his wife, after setting him out with all the ornaments +she has, is sitting on the ground with his head on her knees.' Cyrus, +hearing this, gave himself a blow on the thigh, mounted his horse at a +leap, and, taking with him a thousand horse, rode away to this scene +of affliction; but gave orders to Gadatas and Gobryas to take with +them all the rich ornaments proper for a friend and an excellent man +deceased, and to follow after him; and whoever had herds of cattle +with him, he ordered them to take both oxen, and horses, and sheep in +good number, and to bring them away to the place where, by inquiry, +they should find him to be, that he might sacrifice these to +Abradatus. + +"As soon as he saw the woman sitting on the ground, and the dead body +there lying, he shed tears at the afflicting sight, and said: 'Alas! +thou brave and faithful soul, hast thou left us, and art thou gone?' +At the same time he took him by the right hand, and the hand of the +deceased came away, for it had been cut off with a sword by the +Egyptians. He, at the sight of this, became yet much more concerned +than before. The woman shrieked out in a lamentable manner, and, +taking the hand from Cyrus, kissed it, fitted it to its proper place +again, as well as she could, and said: 'The rest, Cyrus, is in the +same condition, but what need you see it? And I know that I was not +one of the least concerned in these his sufferings, and, perhaps, you +were not less so; for I, fool that I was! frequently exhorted him to +behave in such a manner as to appear a friend to you, worthy of +notice; and I know he never thought of what he himself should suffer, +but of what he should do to please you. He is dead, therefore,' said +she, 'without reproach, and I, who urged him on, sit here alive.' +Cyrus, shedding tears for some time in silence, then spoke:--'He has +died, woman, the noblest death; for he has died victorious! Do you +adorn him with these things that I furnish you with.' (Gobryas and +Gadatas were then come up, and had brought rich ornaments in great +abundance with them.) 'Then,' said he, 'be assured that he shall not +want respect and honor in all other things; but, over and above, +multitudes shall concur in raising him a monument that shall be worthy +of us, and all the sacrifices shall be made him that are proper to be +made in honor of a brave man. You shall not be left destitute, but, +for the sake of your modesty and every other virtue, I will pay you +all other honors, as well as place those about you who will conduct +you wherever you please. Do you but make it known to me where it is +that you desire to be conveyed to.' And Panthea replied: 'Be +confident, Cyrus, I will not conceal from you to whom it is that I +desire to go.' + +"He, having said this, went away with great pity for her that she +should have lost such a husband, and for the man that he should have +left such a wife behind him, never to see her more. Panthea then gave +orders for her servants to retire, 'till such time,' said she, 'as I +shall have lamented my husband as I please.' Her nurse she bid to +stay, and gave orders that, when she was dead, she would wrap her and +her husband up in one mantle together. The nurse, after having +repeatedly begged her not to do this, and meeting with no success, but +observing her to grow angry, sat herself down, breaking out into +tears. She, being beforehand provided with a sword, killed herself, +and, laying her head down on her husband's breast, she died. The nurse +set up a lamentable cry, and covered them both, as Panthea had +directed. + +"Cyrus, as soon as he was informed of what the woman had done, being +struck with it, went to help her if he could. The servants, three in +number, seeing what had been done, drew their swords and killed +themselves, as they stood at the place where she bad ordered them. And +the monument is now said to have been raised by continuing the mound +on to the servants; and on a pillar above, they say, the names of the +man and woman were written in Syriac letters. + +"Below were three pillars, and they were inscribed thus, 'Of the +servants.' Cyrus, when he came to this melancholy scene, was struck +with admiration of the woman, and, having lamented over her, went +away. He took care, as was proper, that all the funeral rites should +be paid them in the noblest manner, and the monument, they say, was +raised up to a very great size." + + * * * * * + +These be the ancients, who, so many assert, had no idea of the dignity +of Woman, or of marriage. Such love Xenophon could paint as subsisting +between those who after death "would see one another never more." +Thousands of years have passed since, and with the reception of the +Cross, the nations assume the belief that those who part thus may meet +again and forever, if spiritually fitted to one another, as Abradatus +and Panthea were, and yet do we see such marriages among them? If at +all, how often? + +I must quote two more short passages from Xenophon, for he is a writer +who pleases me well. + +Cyrus, receiving the Armenians whom he had conquered-- + +"'Tigranes,' said he, 'at what rate would you purchase the regaining +of your wife?' Now Tigranes happened to be _but lately married_, +and had a very great love for his wife." (That clause perhaps sounds +_modern_.) + +"'Cyrus,' said he, 'I would ransom her at the expense of my life.' + +"'Take then your own to yourself,' said he. ... + +"When they came home, one talked of Cyrus' wisdom, another of his +patience and resolution, another of his mildness. One spoke of his +beauty and smallness of his person, and, on that, Tigranes asked his +wife, 'And do you, Armenian dame, think Cyrus handsome?' 'Truly,' said +she, 'I did not look at him.' 'At whom, then, _did_ you look?' +said Tigranes. 'At him who said that, to save me from servitude, he +would ransom me at the expense of his own life.'" + +From the Banquet.-- + +"Socrates, who observed her with pleasure, said, 'This young girl has +confirmed me in the opinion I have had, for a long time, that the +female sex are nothing inferior to ours, excepting only in strength of +body, or, perhaps, his steadiness of judgment.'" + + * * * * * + +In the Economics, the manner in which the husband gives counsel to his +young wife presents the model of politeness and refinement. Xenophon +is thoroughly the gentleman; gentle in breeding and in soul. All the +men he describes are so, while the shades of manner are distinctly +marked. There is the serene dignity of Socrates, with gleams of +playfulness thrown across its cool, religious shades, the princely +mildness of Cyrus, and the more domestic elegance of the husband in +the Economics. + +There is no way that men sin more against refinement, as well as +discretion, than in their conduct toward their wives. Let them look at +the men of Xenophon. Such would know how to give counsel, for they +would know how to receive it. They would feel that the most intimate +relations claimed most, not least, of refined courtesy. They would not +suppose that confidence justified carelessness, nor the reality of +affection want of delicacy in the expression of it. + +Such men would be too wise to hide their affairs from the wife, and +then expect her to act as if she knew them. They would know that, if +she is expected to face calamity with courage, she must be instructed +and trusted in prosperity, or, if they had failed in wise confidence, +such as the husband shows in the Economics, they would be ashamed of +anger or querulous surprise at the results that naturally follow. + +Such men would not be exposed to the bad influence of bad wives; for +all wives, bad or good, loved or unloved, inevitably influence their +husbands, from the power their position not merely gives, but +necessitates, of coloring evidence and infusing feelings in hours when +the--patient, shall I call him?--is off his guard. Those who +understand the wife's mind, and think it worth while to respect her +springs of action, know bettor where they are. But to the bad or +thoughtless man, who lives carelessly and irreverently so near another +mind, the wrong he does daily back upon himself recoils. A Cyrus, an +Abradatus, knows where he stands. + + * * * * * + +But to return to the thread of my subject. + +Another sign of the times is furnished by the triumphs of Female +Authorship. These have been great, and are constantly increasing. +Women have taken possession of so many provinces for which men had +pronounced them unfit, that, though these still declare there are some +inaccessible to them, it is difficult to say just _where_ they +must stop. + +The shining names of famous women have cast light upon the path of the +sex, and many obstructions have been removed. When a Montague could +learn better than her brother, and use her lore afterwards to such +purpose as an observer, it seemed amiss to hinder women from preparing +themselves to see, or from seeing all they could, when prepared. Since +Somerville has achieved so much, will any young girl be prevented from +seeking a knowledge of the physical sciences, if she wishes it? De +Stael's name was not so clear of offence; she could not forget the +Woman in the thought; while she was instructing you as a mind, she +wished to be admired as a Woman; sentimental tears often dimmed the +eagle glance. Her intellect, too, with all its splendor, trained in a +drawing-room, fed on flattery, was tainted and flawed; yet its beams +make the obscurest school-house in New England warmer and lighter to +the little rugged girls who are gathered together on its wooden bench. +They may never through life hear her name, but she is not the less +their benefactress. + +The influence has been such, that the aim certainly is, now, in +arranging school instruction for girls, to give them as fair a field +as boys. As yet, indeed, these arrangements are made with little +judgment or reflection; just as the tutors of Lady Jane Grey, and +other distinguished women of her time, taught them Latin and Greek, +because they knew nothing else themselves, so now the improvement in +the education of girls is to be made by giving them young men as +teachers, who only teach what has been taught themselves at college, +while methods and topics need revision for these new subjects, which +could better be made by those who had experienced the same wants. +Women are, often, at the head of these institutions; but they have, as +yet, seldom been thinking women, capable of organizing a new whole for +the wants of the time, and choosing persons to officiate in the +departments. And when some portion of instruction of a good sort is +got from the school, the far greater proportion which is infused from +the general atmosphere of society contradicts its purport. Yet books +and a little elementary instruction are not furnished in vain. Women +are better aware how great and rich the universe is, not so easily +blinded by narrowness or partial views of a home circle. "Her mother +did so before her" is no longer a sufficient excuse. Indeed, it was +never received as an excuse to mitigate the severity of censure, but +was adduced as a reason, rather, why there should be no effort made +for reformation. + +Whether much or little has been done, or will be done,--whether women +will add to the talent of narration the power of systematizing,--whether +they will carve marble, as well as draw and paint,--is not important. +But that it should be acknowledged that they have intellect which needs +developing--that they should not be considered complete, if beings of +affection and habit alone--is important. + +Yet even this acknowledgment, rather conquered by Woman than proffered +by Man, has been sullied by the usual selfishness. Too much is said of +women being better educated, that they may become better companions +and mothers _for_ men. They should be fit for such companionship, +and we have mentioned, with satisfaction, instances where it has been +established. Earth knows no fairer, holier relation than that of a +mother. It is one which, rightly understood, must both promote and +require the highest attainments. But a being of infinite scope must +not be treated with an exclusive view to any one relation. Give the +soul free course, let the organization, both of body and mind, be +freely developed, and the being will be fit for any and every relation +to which it may be called. The intellect, no more than the sense of +hearing, is to be cultivated merely that Woman may be a more valuable +companion to Man, but because the Power who gave a power, by its mere +existence signifies that it must be brought out toward perfection. + +In this regard of self-dependence, and a greater simplicity and +fulness of being, we must hail as a preliminary the increase of the +class contemptuously designated as "old maids." + +We cannot wonder at the aversion with which old bachelors and old +maids have been regarded. Marriage is the natural means of forming a +sphere, of taking root in the earth; it requires more strength to do +this without such an opening; very many have failed, and their +imperfections have been in every one's way. They have been more +partial, more harsh, more officious and impertinent, than those +compelled by severer friction to render themselves endurable. Those +who have a more full experience of the instincts have a distrust as to +whether the unmarried can be thoroughly human and humane, such as is +hinted in the saying, "Old-maids' and bachelors' children are well +cared for," which derides at once their ignorance and their +presumption. + +Yet the business of society has become so complex, that it could now +scarcely be carried on without the presence of these despised +auxiliaries; and detachments from the army of aunts and uncles are +wanted to stop gaps in every hedge. They rove about, mental and moral +Ishmaelites, pitching their tents amid the fixed and ornamented homes +of men. + +In a striking variety of forms, genius of late, both at home and +abroad, has paid its tribute to the character of the Aunt and the +Uncle, recognizing in these personages the spiritual parents, who have +supplied defects in the treatment of the busy or careless actual +parents. + +They also gain a wider, if not so deep experience. Those who are not +intimately and permanently linked with others, are thrown upon +themselves; and, if they do not there find peace and incessant life, +there is none to flatter them that they are not very poor, and very +mean. + +A position which so constantly admonishes, may be of inestimable +benefit. The person may gain, undistracted by other relationships, a +closer communion with the one. Such a use is made of it by saints and +sibyls. Or she may be one of the lay sisters of charity, a canoness, +bound by an inward vow,--or the useful drudge of all men, the Martha, +much sought, little prized,--or the intellectual interpreter of the +varied life she sees; the Urania of a half-formed world's twilight. + +Or she may combine all these. Not needing to care that she may please +a husband, a frail and limited being, her thoughts may turn to the +centre, and she may, by steadfast contemplation entering into the +secret of truth and love, use it for the good of all men, instead of a +chosen few, and interpret through it all the forms of life. It is +possible, perhaps, to be at once a priestly servant and a loving muse. + +Saints and geniuses have often chosen a lonely position, in the faith +that if, undisturbed by the pressure of near ties, they would give +themselves up to the inspiring spirit, it would enable them to +understand and reproduce life better than actual experience could. + +How many "old maids" take this high stand we cannot say: it is an +unhappy fact that too many who have come before the eye are gossips +rather, and not always good-natured gossips. But if these abuse, and +none make the best of their vocation, yet it has not failed to produce +some good results. It has been seen by others, if not by themselves, +that beings, likely to be left alone, need to be fortified and +furnished within themselves; and education and thought have tended +more and more to regard these beings as related to absolute Being, as +well as to others. It has been seen that, as the breaking of no bond +ought to destroy a man, so ought the missing of none to hinder him +from growing. And thus a circumstance of the time, which springs +rather from its luxury than its purity, has helped to place women on +the true platform. + +Perhaps the next generation, looking deeper into this matter, will +find that contempt is put upon old maids, or old women, at all, merely +because they do not use the elixir which would keep them always young. +Under its influence, a gem brightens yearly which is only seen to more +advantage through the fissures Time makes in the casket. [Footnote: +Appendix F.] No one thinks of Michael Angelo's Persican Sibyl, or St. +Theresa, or Tasso's Leonora, or the Greek Electra, as an old maid, +more than of Michael Angelo or Canova as old bachelors, though all had +reached the period in life's course appointed to take that degree. + +See a common woman at forty; scarcely has she the remains of beauty, +of any soft poetic grace which gave her attraction as Woman, which +kindled the hearts of those who looked on her to sparkling thoughts, +or diffused round her a roseate air of gentle love. See her, who was, +indeed, a lovely girl, in the coarse, full-blown dahlia flower of what +is commonly matron-beauty, "fat, fair, and forty," showily dressed, +and with manners as broad and full as her frill or satin cloak. People +observe, "How well she is preserved!" "She is a fine woman still," +they say. This woman, whether as a duchess in diamonds, or one of our +city dames in mosaics, charms the poet's heart no more, and would look +much out of place kneeling before the Madonna. She "does well the +honors of her house,"--"leads society,"--is, in short, always spoken +and thought of upholstery-wise. + +Or see that care-worn face, from which every soft line is +blotted,--those faded eyes, from which lonely tears have driven the +flashes of fancy, the mild white beam of a tender enthusiasm. This +woman is not so ornamental to a tea-party; yet she would please +better, in picture. Yet surely she, no more than the other, looks as a +human being should at the end of forty years. Forty years! have they +bound those brows with no garland? shed in the lamp no drop of +ambrosial oil? + +Not so looked the Iphigenia in Aulis. Her forty years had seen her in +anguish, in sacrifice, in utter loneliness. But those pains were borne +for her father and her country; the sacrifice she had made pure for +herself and those around her. Wandering alone at night in the vestal +solitude of her imprisoning grove, she has looked up through its +"living summits" to the stars, which shed down into her aspect their +own lofty melody. At forty she would not misbecome the marble. + +Not so looks the Persica. She is withered; she is faded; the drapery +that enfolds her has in its dignity an angularity, too, that tells of +age, of sorrow, of a stern resignation to the _must_. But her +eye, that torch of the soul, is untamed, and, in the intensity of her +reading, we see a soul invincibly young in faith and hope. Her age is +her charm, for it is the night of the past that gives this beacon-fire +leave to shine. Wither more and more, black Chrysalid! thou dost but +give the winged beauty time to mature its splendors! + +Not so looked Victoria Colonna, after her life of a great hope, and of +true conjugal fidelity. She had been, not merely a bride, but a wife, +and each hour had helped to plume the noble bird. A coronet of pearls +will not shame her brow; it is white and ample, a worthy altar for +love and thought. + +Even among the North American Indians, a race of men as completely +engaged in mere instinctive life as almost any in the world, and where +each chief, keeping many wives as useful servants, of course looks +with no kind eye on celibacy in Woman, it was excused in the following +instance mentioned by Mrs. Jameson. A woman dreamt in youth that she +was betrothed to the Sun. She built her a wigwam apart, filled it with +emblems of her alliance, and means of on independent life. There she +passed her days, sustained by her own exertions, and true to her +supposed engagement. + +In any tribe, we believe, a woman, who lived as if she was betrothed +to the Sun, would be tolerated, and the rays which made her youth +blossom sweetly, would crown her with a halo in age. + +There is, on this subject, a nobler view than heretofore, if not the +noblest, and improvement here must coincide with that in the view +taken of marriage. "We must have units before we can have union," says +one of the ripe thinkers of the times. + +If larger intellectual resources begin to be deemed needful to Woman, +still more is a spiritual dignity in her, or even the mere assumption +of it, looked upon with respect. Joanna Southcote and Mother Anne Lee +are sure of a band of disciples; Ecstatica, Dolorosa, of enraptured +believers who will visit them in their lowly huts, and wait for days +to revere them in their trances. The foreign noble traverses land and +sea to hear a few words from the lips of the lowly peasant girl, whom +he believes especially visited by the Most High. Very beautiful, in +this way, was the influence of the invalid of St. Petersburg, as +described by De Maistre. + +Mysticism, which may be defined as the brooding soul of the world, +cannot fail of its oracular promise as to Woman. "The mothers," "The +mother of all things," are expressions of thought which lead the mind +towards this side of universal growth. Whenever a mystical whisper was +heard, from Behmen down to St. Simon, sprang up the thought, that, if +it be true, as the legend says, that Humanity withers through a fault +committed by and a curse laid upon Woman, through her pure child, or +influence, shall the new Adam, the redemption, arise. Innocence is to +be replaced by virtue, dependence by a willing submission, in the +heart of the Virgin-Mother of the new race. + +The spiritual tendency is toward the elevation of Woman, but the +intellectual by itself is not so. Plato sometimes seems penetrated by +that high idea of love, which considers Man and Woman as the two-fold +expression of one thought. This the angel of Swedenborg, the angel of +the coming age, cannot surpass, but only explain more fully. But then +again Plato, the man of intellect, treats Woman in the Republic as +property, and, in the Timaeus, says that Man, if he misuse the +privileges of one life, shall be degraded into the form of Woman; and +then, if ho do not redeem himself, into that of a bird. This, as I +said above, expresses most happily how antipoetical is this state of +mind. For the poet, contemplating the world of things, selects various +birds as the symbols of his most gracious and ethereal thoughts, just +as he calls upon his genius as muse rather than as God. But the +intellect, cold, is ever more masculine than feminine; warmed by +emotion, it rushes toward mother-earth, and puts on the forms of +beauty. + +The electrical, the magnetic element in Woman has not been fairly +brought out at any period. Everything might be expected from it; she +has far more of it than Man. This is commonly expressed by saying that +her intuitions are more rapid and more correct. You will often see men +of high intellect absolutely stupid in regard to the atmospheric +changes, the fine invisible links which connect the forms of life +around them, while common women, if pure and modest, so that a vulgar +self do not overshadow the mental eye, will seize and delineate these +with unerring discrimination. + +Women who combine this organization with creative genius are very +commonly unhappy at present. They see too much to act in conformity +with those around them, and their quick impulses seem folly to those +who do not discern the motives. This is an usual effect of the +apparition of genius, whether in Man or Woman, but is more frequent +with regard to the latter, because a harmony, an obvious order and +self-restraining decorum, is most expected from her. + +Then women of genius, even more than men, are likely to be enslaved by +an impassioned sensibility. The world repels them more rudely, and +they are of weaker bodily frame. + +Those who seem overladen with electricity frighten those around them. +"When she merely enters the room, I am what the French call +_herisse_," said a man of petty feelings and worldly character of +such a woman, whose depth of eye and powerful motion announced the +conductor of the mysterious fluid. + +Woe to such a woman who finds herself linked to such a man in bonds +too close! It is the crudest of errors. He will detest her with all +the bitterness of wounded self-love. He will take the whole prejudice +of manhood upon himself, and, to the utmost of his power, imprison and +torture her by its imperious rigors. + +Yet, allow room enough, and the electric fluid will be found to +invigorate and embellish, not destroy life. Such women are the great +actresses, the songsters. Such traits we read in a late searching, +though too French, analysis of the character of Mademoiselle Rachel, +by a modern, La Rochefeucault. The Greeks thus represent the muses; +they have not the golden serenity of Apollo; they are overflowed with +thought; there is something tragic in their air. Such are the Sibyls +of Gueroino; the eye is overfull of expression, dilated and lustrous; +it seems to have drawn the whole being into it. + +Sickness is the frequent result of this overcharged existence. To this +region, however misunderstood, or interpreted with presumptuous +carelessness, belong the phenomena of magnetism, or mesmerism, as it +is now often called, where the trance of the Ecstatica purports to be +produced by the agency of one human being on another, instead of, as +in her case, direct from the spirit. + +The worldling has his sneer at this as at the services of religion. +"The churches can always be filled with women"--"Show me a man in one +of your magnetic states, and I will believe." + +Women are, indeed, the easy victims both of priestcraft and +self-delusion; but this would not be, if the intellect was developed +in proportion to the other powers. They would then have a regulator, +and be more in equipoise, yet must retain the same nervous +susceptibility while their physical structure is such as it is. + +It is with just that hope that we welcome everything that tends to +strengthen the fibre and develop the nature on more sides. When the +intellect and affections are in harmony; when intellectual +consciousness is calm and deep; inspiration will not be confounded +with fancy. + + Then, "she who advances + With rapturous, lyrical glances, + Singing the song of the earth, singing + Its hymn to the Gods," + + +will not be pitied as a mad-woman, nor shrunk from as unnatural. + +The Greeks, who saw everything in forms, which we are trying to +ascertain as law, and classify as cause, embodied all this in the form +of Cassandra. Cassandra was only unfortunate in receiving her gift too +soon. The remarks, however, that the world still makes in such cases, +are well expressed by the Greek dramatist. + +In the Trojan dames there are fine touches of nature with regard to +Cassandra. Hecuba shows that mixture of shame and reverence that +prosaic kindred always do toward the inspired child, the poet, the +elected sufferer for the race. + +When the herald announces that Cassandra is chosen to be the mistress +of Agamemnon, Hecuba answers, with indignation, betraying the pride +and faith she involuntarily felt in this daughter. + + "_Hec_. The maiden of Phoebus, to whom the golden-haired + Gave as a privilege a virgin life! + + _Tal_. Love of the inspired maiden hath pierced him. + + _Hec_. Then cast away, my child, the sacred keys, and from thy person + The consecrated garlands which thou wearest." + + +Yet, when, a moment after, Cassandra appears, singing, wildly, her +inspired song, Hecuba calls her, "My _frantic_ child." + +Yet how graceful she is in her tragic _raptus_, the chorus shows. + + "_Chorus_. How sweetly at thy house's ills thou smil'st, + Chanting what, haply, thou wilt not show true." + + +If Hecuba dares not trust her highest instinct about her daughter, +still less can the vulgar mind of the herald Talthybius, a man not +without feeling, but with no princely, no poetic blood, abide the +wild, prophetic mood which insults all his prejudices. + + "_Tal_. The venerable, and that accounted wise, + Is nothing better than that of no repute; + For the greatest king of all the Greeks, + The dear son of Atreus, a possessed with the love + Of this mad-Woman. I, indeed, am poor; + Yet I would not receive her to my bed." + + +The royal Agamemnon could see the beauty of Cassandra; _he_ was +not afraid of her prophetic gifts. + +The best topic for a chapter on this subject, in the present day, +would be the history of the Seeress of Prevorst, the best observed +subject of magnetism in our present times, and who, like her +ancestresses of Delphos, was roused to ecstasy or phrensy by the touch +of the laurel. + +I observe in her case, and in one known to me here, that what might +have been a gradual and gentle disclosure of remarkable powers was +broken and jarred into disease by an unsuitable marriage. Both these +persons were unfortunate in not understanding what was involved in +this relation, but acted ignorantly, as their friends desired. They +thought that this was the inevitable destiny of Woman. But when +engaged in the false position, it was impossible for them to endure +its dissonances, as those of less delicate perceptions can; and the +fine flow of life was checked and sullied. They grew sick; but, even +so, learned and disclosed more than those in health are wont to do. + +In such cases, worldlings sneer; but reverent men learn wondrous news, +either from the person observed, or by thoughts caused in themselves +by the observation. Fenelon learns from Guyon, Kerner from his +Seeress, what we fain would know. But to appreciate such disclosures +one must be a child; and here the phrase, "women and children," may, +perhaps, be interpreted aright, that only little children shall enter +into the kingdom of heaven. + +All these motions of the time, tides that betoken a waxing moon, +overflow upon our land. The world at large is readier to let Woman +learn and manifest the capacities of her nature than it ever was +before, and here is a less encumbered field and freer air than +anywhere else. And it ought to be so; we ought to pay for Isabella's +jewels. + +The names of nations are feminine--Religion, Virtue and Victory are +feminine. To those who have a superstition, as to outward reigns, it +is not without significance that the name of the queen of our +motherland should at this crisis be Victoria,--Victoria the First. +Perhaps to us it may be given to disclose the era thus outwardly +presaged. + +Another Isabella too at this time ascends the throne. Might she open a +new world to her sex! But, probably, these poor little women are, +least of any, educated to serve as examples or inspirers for the rest. +The Spanish queen is younger; we know of her that she sprained her +foot the other day, dancing in her private apartments; of Victoria, +that she reads aloud, in a distinct voice and agreeable manner, her +addresses to Parliament on certain solemn days, and, yearly, that she +presents to the nation some new prop of royalty. These ladies have, +very likely, been trained more completely to the puppet life than any +other. The queens, who have been queens indeed, were trained by +adverse circumstances to know the world around them and their own +powers. + +It is moving, while amusing, to read of the Scottish peasant measuring +the print left by the queen's foot as she walks, and priding himself +on its beauty. It is so natural to wish to find what is fair and +precious in high places,--so astonishing to find the Bourbon a +glutton, or the Guelph a dullard or gossip. + +In our own country, women are, in many respects, better situated than +men. Good books are allowed, with more time to read them. They are not +so early forced into the bustle of life, nor so weighed down by +demands for outward success. The perpetual changes, incident to our +society, make the blood circulate freely through the body politic, +and, if not favorable at present to the grace and bloom of life, they +are so to activity, resource, and would be to reflection, but for a +low materialist tendency, from which the women are generally exempt in +themselves, though its existence, among the men, has a tendency to +repress their impulses and make them doubt their instincts, thus often +paralyzing their action during the best years. + +But they have time to think, and no traditions chain them, and few +conventionalities, compared with what must be met in other nations. +There is no reason why they should not discover that the secrets of +nature are open, the revelations of the spirit waiting, for whoever +will seek them. When the mind is once awakened to this consciousness, +it will not be restrained by the habits of the past, but fly to seek +the seeds of a heavenly future. + +Their employments are more favorable to meditation than those of men. + +Woman is not addressed religiously here more than elsewhere. She is +told that she should be worthy to be the mother of a Washington, or +the companion of some good man.' But in many, many instances, she has +already learned that all bribes have the same flaw; that truth and +good are to be sought solely for their own sakes. And, already, an +ideal sweetness floats over many forms, shines in many eyes. + +Already deep questions are put by young girls on the great theme: What +shall I do to enter upon the eternal life? + +Men are very courteous to them. They praise them often, check them +seldom. There is chivalry in the feeling toward "the ladies," which +gives them the best seats in the stage-coach, frequent admission, not +only to lectures of all sorts, but to courts of justice, halls of +legislature, reform conventions. The newspaper editor "would be better +pleased that the Lady's Book should be filled up exclusively by +ladies. It would then, indeed, be a true gem, worthy, to be presented +by young men to the, mistress of their affections." Can gallantry go +further? + +In this country is venerated, wherever seen, the character which +Goethe spoke of as an Ideal, which he saw actualized in his friend and +patroness, the Grand Duchess Amelia: "The excellent woman is she, who, +if the husband dies, can be a father to the children." And this, if +read aright, tells a great deal. + +Women who speak in public, if they have a moral power, such as has +been felt from Angelina Grimke and Abby Kelly,--that is, if they speak +for conscience' sake, to serve a cause which they hold sacred,--invariably +subdue the prejudices of their hearers, and excite an interest +proportionate to the aversion with which it had been the purpose to +regard them. + +A passage in a private letter so happily illustrates this, that it +must be inserted here. + +Abby Kelly in the Town-House of ----. + +"The scene was not unheroic--to see that woman, true to humanity and +her own nature, a centre of rude eyes and tongues, even gentlemen +feeling licensed to make part of a species of mob around a female out +of her sphere. As she took her seat in the desk amid the great noise, +and in the throng, full, like a wave, of something to ensue, I saw her +humanity in a gentleness and unpretension, tenderly open to the sphere +around her, and, had she not been supported by the power of the will +of genuineness and principle, she would have failed. It led her to +prayer, which, in Woman especially, is childlike; sensibility and will +going to the side of God and looking up to him; and humanity was +poured out in aspiration. + +"She acted like a gentle hero, with her mild decision and womanly +calmness. All heroism is mild, and quiet, and gentle, for it is life +and possession; and combativeness and firmness show a want of +actualness. She is as earnest, fresh and simple, as when she first +entered the crusade. I think she did much good, more than the men in +her place could do, for Woman feels more as being and reproducing--this +brings the subject more into home relations. Men speak through, and +mostly from intellect, and this addresses itself to that in others +which is combative." + +Not easily shall we find elsewhere, or before this time, any written +observations on the same subject, so delicate and profound. + +The late Dr. Channing, whose enlarged and tender and religious nature +shared every onward impulse of his tune, though his thoughts followed +his wishes with a deliberative caution which belonged to his habits +and temperament, was greatly interested in these expectations for +women. His own treatment of them was absolutely and thoroughly +religious. He regarded them as souls, each of which had a destiny of +its own, incalculable to other minds, and whose leading it must +follow, guided by the light of a private conscience. He had sentiment, +delicacy, kindness, taste; but they were all pervaded and ruled by +this one thought, that all beings had souls, and must vindicate their +own inheritance. Thus all beings were treated by him with an equal, +and sweet, though solemn, courtesy. The young and unknown, the woman +and the child, all felt themselves regarded with an infinite +expectation, from which there was no reaction to vulgar prejudice. He +demanded of all he met, to use his favorite phrase, "great truths." + +His memory, every way dear and reverend, is, by many, especially +cherished for this intercourse of unbroken respect. + +At one time, when the progress of Harriet Martineau through this +country, Angelina Grimke's appearance in public, and the visit of Mrs. +Jameson, had turned his thoughts to this subject, he expressed high +hopes as to what the coming era would bring to Woman. He had been much +pleased with the dignified courage of Mrs. Jameson in taking up the +defence of her sex in from which women usually shrink, because, if +they express themselves on such subjects with sufficient force and +clearness to do any good, they are exposed to assaults whose vulgarity +makes them painful. In intercourse with such a woman, he had shared +her indignation at the base injustice, in many respects, and in many +regions, done to the sex; and been led to think of it far more than +ever before. He seemed to think that he might some time write upon the +subject. That his aid is withdrawn from the cause is a subject of +great regret; for, on this question as on others, he would have known +how to sum up the evidence, and take, in the noblest spirit, middle +ground. He always furnished a platform on which opposing parties could +stand and look at one another under the influence of his mildness and +enlightened candor. + +Two younger thinkers, men both, have uttered noble prophecies, +auspicious for Woman. Kinmont, all whose thoughts tended towards the +establishment of the reign of love and peace, thought that the +inevitable means of this would be an increased predominance given to +the idea of Woman. Had he lived longer, to see the growth of the Peace +Party, the reforms in life and medical practice which seek to +substitute water for wine and drugs, pulse for animal food, he would +have been confirmed in his view of the way in which the desired +changes are to be effected. + +In this connection I must mention Shelley, who, like all men of +genius, shared the feminine development, and, unlike many, knew it. +His life was one of the first pulse-beats in the present +reform-growth. He, too, abhorred blood and heat, and, by his system +and his song, tended to reinstate a plant-like gentleness in the +development of energy. In harmony with this, his ideas of marriage +were lofty, and, of course, no less so of Woman, her nature, and +destiny. + +For Woman, if, by a sympathy as to outward condition, she is led to +aid the enfranchisement of the slave, must be no less so, by inward +tendency, to favor measures which promise to bring the world more +thoroughly and deeply into harmony with her nature. When the lamb +takes place of the lion as the emblem of nations, both women and men +will be as children of one spirit, perpetual learners of the word and +doers thereof, not hearers only. + +A writer in the New York Pathfinder, in two articles headed +"Femality," has uttered a still more pregnant word than any we have +named. He views Woman truly from the soul, and not from society, and +the depth and leading of his thoughts are proportionably remarkable. +He views the feminine nature as a harmonizer of the vehement elements, +and this has often been hinted elsewhere; but what he expresses most +forcibly is the lyrical, the inspiring and inspired apprehensiveness +of her being. + +This view being identical with what I have before attempted to +indicate, as to her superior susceptibility to magnetic or electric +influence, I will now try to express myself more fully. + +There are two aspects of Woman's nature, represented by the ancients +as Muse and Minerva. It is the former to which the writer in the +Pathfinder looks. It is the latter which Wordsworth has in mind, when +he says, + + "With a placid brow, + Which woman ne'er should forfeit, keep thy vow." + + +The especial genius of Woman I believe to be electrical in movement, +intuitive in function, spiritual in tendency. She excels not so easily +in classification, or recreation, as in an instinctive seizure of +causes, and a simple breathing out of what she receives, that has the +singleness of life, rather than the selecting and energizing of art. + +More native is it to her to be the living model of the artist than to +set apart from herself any one form in objective reality; more native +to inspire and receive the poem, than to create it. In so far as soul +is in her completely developed, all soul is the same, but in so far as +it is modified in her as Woman, it flows, it breathes, it sings, +rather than deposits soil, or finishes work; and that which is +especially feminine flushes, in blossom, the face of earth, and +pervades, like air and water, all this seeming solid globe, daily +renewing and purifying its life. Such may be the especially feminine +element spoken of as Femality. But it is no more the order of nature +that it should be incarnated pure in any form, than that the masculine +energy should exist unmingled with it in any form. + +Male and female represent the two sides of the great radical dualism. +But, in fact, they are perpetually passing into one another. Fluid +hardens to solid, solid rushes to fluid. There is no wholly masculine +man, no purely feminine woman. + +History jeers at the attempts of physiologists to bind great original +laws by the forms which flow from them. They make a rule; they say +from observation what can and cannot be. In vain! Nature provides +exceptions to every rule. She sends women to battle, and sets Hercules +spinning; she enables women to bear immense burdens, cold, and frost; +she enables the man, who feels maternal love, to nourish his infant +like a mother. Of late she plays still gayer pranks. Not only she +deprives organizations, but organs, of a necessary end. She enables +people to read with the top of the head, and see with the pit of the +stomach. Presently she will make a female Newton, and a male Syren. + +Man partakes of the feminine in the Apollo, Woman of the masculine as +Minerva. + +What I mean by the Muse is that unimpeded clearness of the intuitive +powers, which a perfectly truthful adherence to every admonition of +the higher instincts would bring to a finely organized human being. It +may appear as prophecy or as poesy. It enabled Cassandra to foresee +the results of actions passing round her; the Seeress to behold the +true character of the person through the mask of his customary life. +(Sometimes she saw a feminine form behind the man, sometimes the +reverse.) It enabled the daughter of Linnaeus to see the soul of the +flower exhaling from the flower. [Footnote: The daughter of Linnaeus +states, that, while looking steadfastly at the red lily, she saw its +spirit hovering above it, as a red flame. It is true, this, like many +fair spirit-stories, may be explained away as an optical illusion, but +its poetic beauty and meaning would, even then, make it valuable, as +an illustration of the spiritual fact.] It gave a man, but a poet-man, +the power of which he thus speaks: "Often in my contemplation of +nature, radiant intimations, and as it were sheaves of light, appear +before me as to the facts of cosmogony, in which my mind has, perhaps, +taken especial part." He wisely adds, "but it is necessary with +earnestness to verify the knowledge we gain by these flashes of +light." And none should forget this. Sight must be verified by light +before it can deserve the honors of piety and genius. Yet sight comes +first, and of this sight of the world of causes, this approximation to +the region of primitive motions, women I hold to be especially +capable. Even without equal freedom with the other sex, they have +already shown themselves so; and should these faculties have free +play, I believe they will open new, deeper and purer sources of joyous +inspiration than have as yet refreshed the earth. + +Let us be wise, and not impede the soul. Let her work as she will. Let +us have one creative energy, one incessant revelation. Let it take +what form it will, and let us not bind it by the past to man or woman, +black or white. Jove sprang from Rhea, Pallas from Jove. So let it be. + +If it has been the tendency of these remarks to call Woman rather to +the Minerva side,--if I, unlike the more generous writer, have spoken +from society no less than the soul,--let it be pardoned! It is love +that has caused this,--love for many incarcerated souls, that might be +freed, could the idea of religious self-dependence be established in +them, could the weakening habit of dependence on others be broken up. + +Proclus teaches that every life has, in its sphere, a totality or +wholeness of the animating powers of the other spheres; having only, +as its own characteristic, a predominance of some one power. Thus +Jupiter comprises, within himself, the other twelve powers, which +stand thus: The first triad is _demiurgic or fabricative_, that +is, Jupiter, Neptune, Vulcan; the second, _defensive_, Vesta, +Minerva, Mars; the third, _vivific_, Ceres, Juno, Diana; and the +fourth, Mercury, Venus, Apollo, _elevating and harmonic_. In the +sphere of Jupiter, energy is predominant--with Venus, beauty; but each +comprehends and apprehends all the others. + +When the same community of life and consciousness of mind begin among +men, humanity will have, positively and finally, subjugated its brute +elements and Titanic childhood; criticism will have perished; +arbitrary limits and ignorant censure be impossible; all will have +entered upon the liberty of law, and the harmony of common growth. + +Then Apollo will sing to his lyre what Vulcan forges on the anvil, and +the Muse weave anew the tapestries of Minerva. + +It is, therefore, only in the present crisis that the preference is +given to Minerva. The power of continence must establish the +legitimacy of freedom, the power of self-poise the perfection of +motion. + +Every relation, every gradation of nature is incalculably precious, +but only to the soul which is poised upon itself, and to whom no loss, +no change, can bring dull discord, for it is in harmony with the +central soul. + +If any individual live too much in relations, so that he becomes a +stranger to the resources of his own nature, he falls, after a while, +into a distraction, or imbecility, from which he can only be cured by +a time of isolation, which gives the renovating fountains time to rise +up. With a society it is the same. Many minds, deprived of the +traditionary or instinctive means of passing a cheerful existence, +must find help in self-impulse, or perish. It is therefore that, while +any elevation, in the view of union, is to be hailed with joy, we +shall not decline celibacy as the great fact of the time. It is one +from which no vow, no arrangement, can at present save a thinking +mind. For now the rowers are pausing on their oars; they wait a change +before they can pull together. All tends to illustrate the thought of +a wise cotemporary. Union is only possible to those who are units. To +be fit for relations in time, souls, whether of Man or Woman, must be +able to do without them in the spirit. + +It is therefore that I would have Woman lay aside all thought, such as +she habitually cherishes, of being taught and led by men. I would have +her, like the Indian girl, dedicate herself to the Sun, the Sun of +Truth, and go nowhere if his beams did not make clear the path. I +would have her free from compromise, from complaisance, from +helplessness, because I would have her good enough and strong enough +to love one and all beings, from the fulness, not the poverty of +being. + +Men, as at present instructed, will not help this work, because they +also are under the slavery of habit. I have seen with delight their +poetic impulses. A sister is the fairest ideal, and how nobly +Wordsworth, and even Byron, have written of a sister! + +There is no sweeter sight than to see a father with his little +daughter. Very vulgar men become refined to the eye when leading a +little girl by the hand. At that moment, the right relation between +the sexes seems established, and you feel as if the man would aid in +the noblest purpose, if you ask him in behalf of his little daughter. +Once, two fine figures stood before me, thus. The father of very +intellectual aspect, his falcon eye softened by affection as he looked +down on his fair child; she the image of himself, only more graceful +and brilliant in expression. I was reminded of Southey's Kehama; when, +lo, the dream was rudely broken! They were talking of education, and +he said, + +"I shall not have Maria brought too forward. If she knows too much, +she will never find a husband; superior women hardly ever can." + +"Surely," said his wife, with a blush, "you wish Maria to be as good +and wise as she can, whether it will help her to marriage or not." + +"No," he persisted, "I want her to have a sphere and a home, and some +one to protect her when I am gone." + +It was a trifling incident, but made a deep impression. I felt that +the holiest relations fail to instruct the unprepared and perverted +mind. If this man, indeed, could have looked at it on the other side, +he was the last that would have been willing to have been taken +himself for the home and protection he could give, but would have been +much more likely to repeat the tale of Alcibiades with his phials. + +But men do _not_ look at both sides, and women must leave off +asking them and being influenced by them, but retire within +themselves, and explore the ground-work of life till they find their +peculiar secret. Then, when they come forth again, renovated and +baptized, they will know how to turn all dross to gold, and will be +rich and free though they live in a hut, tranquil if in a crowd. Then +their sweet singing shall not be from passionate impulse, but the +lyrical overflow of a divine rapture, and a new music shall be evolved +from this many-chorded world. + +Grant her, then, for a while, the armor and the javelin. Let her put +from her the press of other minds, and meditate in virgin loneliness. +The same idea shall reappear in due time as Muse, or Ceres, the +all-kindly, patient Earth-Spirit. + +Among the throng of symptoms which denote the present tendency to a +crisis in the life of Woman,--which resembles the change from +girlhood, with its beautiful instincts, but unharmonized thoughts, its +blind pupilage and restless seeking, to self-possessed, wise and +graceful womanhood,--I have attempted to select a few. + +One of prominent interest is the unison upon the subject of three male +minds, which, for width of culture, power of self-concentration and +dignity of aim, take rank as the prophets of the coming age, while +their histories and labors are rooted in the past. + +Swedenborg came, he tells us, to interpret the past revelation and +unfold a new. He announces the New Church that is to prepare the way +for the New Jerusalem, a city built of precious stones, hardened and +purified by secret processes in the veins of earth through the ages. + +Swedenborg approximated to that harmony between the scientific and +poetic lives of mind, which we hope from the perfected man. The links +that bind together the realms of nature, the mysteries that accompany +her births and growths, were unusually plain to him. He seems a man to +whom insight was given at a period when the mental frame was +sufficiently matured to retain and express its gifts. + +His views of Woman are, in the main, satisfactory. In some details we +my object to them, as, in all his system, there are still remains of +what is arbitrary and seemingly groundless--fancies that show the +marks of old habits, and a nature as yet not thoroughly leavened with +the spiritual leaven. At least, so it seems to me now. I speak +reverently, for I find such reason to venerate Swedenborg, from an +imperfect knowledge of his mind, that I feel one more perfect might +explain to me much that does not now secure my sympathy. + +His idea of Woman is sufficiently large and noble to interpose no +obstacle to her progress. His idea of marriage is consequently +sufficient. Man and Woman share an angelic ministry; the union is of +one with one, permanent and pure. + +As the New Church extends its ranks, the needs of Woman must be more +considered. + +Quakerism also establishes Woman on a sufficient equality with Man. +But, though the original thought of Quakerism is pure, its scope is +too narrow, and its influence, having established a certain amount of +good and made clear some truth, must, by degrees, be merged in one of +wider range. [Footnote: In worship at stated periods, in daily +expression, whether by word or deed, the Quakers have placed Woman on +the same platform with Man. Can any one assert that they have reason +to repent this?] The mind of Swedenborg appeals to the various nature +of Man, and allows room for aesthetic culture and the free expression +of energy. + +As apostle of the new order, of the social fabric that is to rise from +love, and supersede the old that was based on strife, Charles Fourier +comes next, expressing, in an outward order, many facts of which +Swedenborg saw the secret springs. The mind of Fourier, though grand +and clear, was, in some respects, superficial. He was a stranger to +the highest experiences. His eye was fixed on the outward more than +the inward needs of Man. Yet he, too, was a seer of the divine order, +in its musical expression, if not in its poetic soul. He has filled +one department of instruction for the new era, and the harmony in +action, and freedom for individual growth, he hopes, shall exist; and, +if the methods he proposes should not prove the true ones, yet his +fair propositions shall give many hints, and make room for the +inspiration needed for such. + +He, too, places Woman on an entire equality with Man, and wishes to +give to one as to the other that independence which must result from +intellectual and practical development. + +Those who will consult him for no other reason, might do so to see how +the energies of Woman may be made available in the pecuniary way. The +object of Fourier was to give her the needed means of self-help, that +she might dignify and unfold her life for her own happiness, and that +of society. The many, now, who see their daughters liable to +destitution, or vice to escape from it, may be interested to examine +the means, if they have not yet soul enough to appreciate the ends he +proposes. + +On the opposite side of the advancing army leads the great apostle of +individual culture, Goethe. Swedenborg makes organization and union +the necessary results of solitary thought. Fourier, whose nature was, +above all, constructive, looked to them too exclusively. Better +institutions, he thought, will make better men. Goethe expressed, in +every way, the other side. If one man could present better forms, the +rest could not use them till ripe for them. + +Fourier says, As the institutions, so the men! All follies are +excusable and natural under bad institutions. + +Goethe thinks, As the man, so the institutions! There is no excuse for +ignorance and folly. A man can grow in any place, if he will. + +Ay! but, Goethe, bad institutions are prison-walls and impure air, +that make him stupid, so that be does not will. + +And thou, Fourier, do not expect to change mankind at once, or even +"in three generations," by arrangement of groups and series, or +flourish of trumpets for attractive industry. If these attempts are +made by unready men, they will fail. + +Yet we prize the theory of Fourier no less than the profound +suggestion of Goethe. Both are educating the age to a clearer +consciousness of what Man needs, what Man can be; and better life must +ensue. + +Goethe, proceeding on his own track, elevating the human being, in the +most imperfect states of society, by continual efforts at +self-culture, takes as good care of women as of men. His mother, the +bold, gay Frau Aja, with such playful freedom of nature; the wise and +gentle maiden, known in his youth, over whose sickly solitude "the +Holy Ghost brooded as a dove;" his sister, the intellectual woman +_par excellence_; the Duchess Amelia; Lili, who combined the +character of the woman of the world with the lyrical sweetness of the +shepherdess, on whose chaste and noble breast flowers and gems were +equally at home; all these had supplied abundant suggestions to his +mind, as to the wants and the possible excellences of Woman. And from +his poetic soul grew up forms new and more admirable than life has yet +produced, for whom his clear eye marked out paths in the future. + +In Faust Margaret represents the redeeming power, which, at present, +upholds Woman, while waiting for a better day. The lovely little girl, +pure in instinct, ignorant in mind, is misled and profaned by man +abusing her confidence.[Footnote: As Faust says, her only fault was a +"kindly delusion,"--"ein guter wahn."] To the Mater _Dolorosa_ +she appeals for aid. It is given to the soul, if not against outward +sorrow; and the maiden, enlightened by her sufferings, refusing to +receive temporal salvation by the aid of an evil power, obtains the +eternal in its stead. + +In the second part, the intellectual man, after all his manifold +strivings, owes to the interposition of her whom he had betrayed +_his_ salvation. She intercedes, this time, herself a glorified +spirit, with the Mater _Gloriosa_. + +Leonora, too, is Woman, as we see her now, pure, thoughtful, refined +by much acquaintance with grief. + +Iphigenia he speaks of in his journals as his "daughter," and she is +the daughter [Footnote: Goethe was as false to his ideas, in practice, +as Lord Herbert. And his punishment was the just and usual one of +connections formed beneath the standard of right, from the impulses of +the baser self. Iphigenia was the worthy daughter of his mind; but the +son, child of his degrading connection in actual life, corresponded +with that connection. This son, on whom Goethe vainly lavished so much +thought and care, was like his mother, and like Goethe's attachment +for his mother. "This young man," says a late well-informed writer (M. +Henri Blaze), "Wieland, with good reason, called the son of the +servant, _der Sohn der Magd_. He inherited from his father only +his name and his _physique_."] whom a man will wish, even if he +has chosen his wife from very mean motives. She is the virgin, +steadfast, soul, to whom falsehood is more dreadful than any other +death. + +But it is to Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship and Wandering Years that +I would especially refer, as these volumes contain the sum of the +Sage's observations during a long life, as to what Man should do, +under present circumstances, to obtain mastery over outward, through +an initiation into inward life, and severe discipline of faculty. + +As Wilhelm advances into the upward path, he becomes acquainted with +better forms of Woman, by knowing how to seek, and how to prize them +when found. For the weak and immature man will, often, admire a +superior woman, but he will not be able to abide by a feeling which is +too severe a tax on his habitual existence. But, with Wilhelm, the +gradation is natural, and expresses ascent in the scale of being. At +first, he finds charm in Mariana and Philina, very common forms of +feminine character, not without redeeming traits, no less than charms, +but without wisdom or purity. Soon he is attended by Mignon, the +finest expression ever yet given to what I have called the lyrical +element in Woman. She is a child, but too full-grown for this man; he +loves, but cannot follow her; yet is the association not without an +enduring influence. Poesy has been domesticated in his life; and, +though he strives to bind down her heavenward impulse, as art or +apothegm, these are only the tents, beneath which he may sojourn for a +while, but which may be easily struck, and carried on limitless +wanderings. + +Advancing into the region of thought, he encounters a wise +philanthropy in Natalia (instructed, let us observe, by an +_uncle_); practical judgment and the outward economy of life in +Theresa; pure devotion in the Fair Saint. + +Further, and last, he comes to the house of Macaria, the soul of a +star; that is, a pure and perfected intelligence embodied in feminine +form, and the centre of a world whose members revolve harmoniously +around her. She instructs him in the archives of a rich human history, +and introduces him to the contemplation of the heavens. + +From the hours passed by the side of Mariana to these with Macaria, is +a wide distance for human feet to traverse. Nor has Wilhelm travelled +so far, seen and suffered so much, in vain, He now begins to study how +he may aid the next generation; he sees objects in harmonious +arrangement, and from his observations deduces precepts by which to +guide his course as a teacher and a master, "help-full, comfort-full." + +In all these expressions of Woman, the aim of Goethe is satisfactory +to me. He aims at a pure self-subsistence, and a free development of +any powers with which they may be gifted by nature as much for them as +for men. They are units, addressed as souls. Accordingly, the meeting +between Man and Woman, as represented by him, is equal and noble; and, +if he does not depict marriage, he makes it possible. + +In the Macaria, bound with the heavenly bodies in fixed revolutions, +the centre of all relations, herself unrelated, he expresses the +Minerva side of feminine nature. It was not by chance that Goethe gave +her this name. Macaria, the daughter of Hercules, who offered herself +as a victim for the good of her country, was canonized by the Greeks, +and worshipped as the Goddess of true Felicity. Goethe has embodied +this Felicity as the Serenity that arises from Wisdom, a Wisdom such +as the Jewish wise man venerated, alike instructed in the designs of +heaven, and the methods necessary to carry them into effect upon +earth. + +Mignon is the electrical, inspired, lyrical nature. And wherever it +appears we echo in our aspirations that of the child, + + "So let me seem until I be:-- + Take not the _white robe_ away." + + * * * * * + + "Though I lived without care and toil, + Yet felt I sharp pain enough to + Make me again forever young." + + +All these women, though we see them in relations, we can think of as +unrelated. They all are very individual, yet seem nowhere restrained. +They satisfy for the present, yet arouse an infinite expectation. + +The economist Theresa, the benevolent Natalia, the fair Saint, have +chosen a path, but their thoughts are not narrowed to it. The +functions of life to them are not ends, but suggestions. + +Thus, to them, all things are important, because none is necessary. +Their different characters have fair play, and each is beautiful in +its minute indications, for nothing is enforced or conventional; but +everything, however slight, grows from the essential life of the +being. + +Mignon and Theresa wear male attire when they like, and it is graceful +for them to do so, while Macaria is confined to her arm-chair behind +the green curtain, and the Fair Saint could not bear a speck of dust +on her robe. + +All things are in their places in this little world, because all is +natural and free, just as "there is room for everything out of doors." +Yet all is rounded in by natural harmony, which will always arise +where Truth and Love are sought in the light of Freedom. + +Goethe's book bodes an era of freedom like its own of "extraordinary, +generous seeking," and new revelations. New individualities shall be +developed in the actual world, which shall advance upon it as gently +as the figures come out upon his canvas. + +I have indicated on this point the coincidence between his hopes and +those of Fourier, though his are directed by an infinitely higher and +deeper knowledge of human nature. But, for our present purpose, it is +sufficient to show how surely these different paths have conducted to +the same end two earnest thinkers. In some other place I wish to point +out similar coincidences between Goethe's model school and the plans +of Fourier, which may cast light upon the page of prophecy. + + * * * * * + +Many women have observed that the time drew nigh for a better care of +the sex, and have thrown out hints that may be useful. Among these may +be mentioned-- + +Miss Edgeworth, who, although restrained by the habits of her age and +country, and belonging more to the eighteenth than the nineteenth +century, has done excellently as far as she goes. She had a horror of +sentimentalism, and of the love of notoriety, and saw how likely +women, in the early stages of culture, were to aim at these. Therefore +she bent her efforts to recommending domestic life. But the methods +she recommends are such as will fit a character for any position to +which it may be called. She taught a contempt of falsehood, no less in +its most graceful, than in its meanest apparitions; the cultivation of +a clear, independent judgment, and adherence to its dictates; habits +of various and liberal study and employment, and a capacity for +friendship. Her standard of character is the same for both sexes,-- +Truth, honor, enlightened benevolence, and aspiration after knowledge. +Of poetry, she knows nothing, and her religion consists in honor and +loyalty to obligations once assumed--in short, in "the great idea of +duty which holds us upright." Her whole tendency is practical. + +Mrs. Jameson is a sentimentalist, and, therefore, suits us ill in some +respects, but she is full of talent, has a just and refined perception +of the beautiful, and a genuine courage when she finds it necessary. +She does not appear to have thought out, thoroughly, the subject on +which we are engaged, and her opinions, expressed as opinions, are +sometimes inconsistent with one another. But from the refined +perception of character, admirable suggestions are given in her "Women +of Shakspeare," and "Loves of the Poets." + +But that for which I most respect her is the decision with which she +speaks on a subject which refined women are usually afraid to +approach, for fear of the insult and scurrile jest they may +encounter; but on which she neither can nor will restrain the +indignation of a full heart. I refer to the degradation of a large +portion of women into the sold and polluted slaves of men, and the +daring with which the legislator and man of the world lifts his head +beneath the heavens, and says, "This must be; it cannot be helped; it +is a necessary accompaniment of _civilization_." + +So speaks the _citizen_. Man born of Woman, the father of +daughters, declares that he will and must buy the comforts and +commercial advantages of his London, Vienna, Paris, New York, by +conniving at the moral death, the damnation, so far as the action of +society can insure it, of thousands of women for each splendid +metropolis. + +O men! I speak not to you. It is true that your wickedness (for you +must not deny that at least nine thousand out of the ten fall through +the vanity you have systematically flattered, or the promises you have +treacherously broken); yes, it is true that your wickedness is its own +punishment. Your forms degraded and your eyes clouded by secret sin; +natural harmony broken and fineness of perception destroyed in your +mental and bodily organization; God and love shut out from your hearts +by the foul visitants you have permitted there; incapable of pure +marriage; incapable of pure parentage; incapable of worship; O +wretched men, your sin is its own punishment! You have lost the world +in losing yourselves. Who ruins another has admitted the worm to the +root of his own tree, and the fuller ye fill the cup of evil, the +deeper must be your own bitter draught. But I speak not to you--you +need to teach and warn one another. And more than one voice rises in +earnestness. And all that _women_ say to the heart that has once +chosen the evil path is considered prudery, or ignorance, or perhaps a +feebleness of nature which exempts from similar temptations. + +But to you, women, American women, a few words may not be addressed in +vain. One here and there may listen. + +You know how it was in the Oriental clime, One man, if wealth +permitted, had several wives and many handmaidens. The chastity and +equality of genuine marriage, with "the thousand decencies that flow" +from its communion, the precious virtues that gradually may be matured +within its enclosure, were unknown. + +But this man did not wrong according to his light. What he did, he +might publish to God and Man; it was not a wicked secret that hid in +vile lurking-places and dens, like the banquets of beasts of prey. +Those women were not lost, not polluted in their own eyes, nor those +of others. If they were not in a state of knowledge and virtue, they +were at least in one of comparative innocence. + +You know how it was with the natives of this continent. A chief had +many wives, whom he maintained and who did his household work; those +women were but servants, still they enjoyed the respect of others and +their own. They lived together, in peace. They knew that a sin against +what was in their nation esteemed virtue, would be as strictly +punished in Man as in Woman. + +Now pass to the countries where marriage is between one and one. I +will not speak of the Pagan nations, but come to those which own the +Christian rule. We all know what that enjoins; there is a standard to +appeal to. + +See, now, not the mass of the people, for we all know that it is a +proverb and a bitter jest to speak of the "down-trodden million." We +know that, down to our own time, a principle never had so fair a +chance to pervade the mass of the people, but that we must solicit its +illustration from select examples. + +Take the Paladin, take the Poet. Did _they_ believe purity more +impossible to Man than to Woman? Did they wish Woman to believe that +Man was less amenable to higher motives,--that pure aspirations would +not guard him against bad passions,--that honorable employments and +temperate habits would not keep him free from slavery to the body? O +no! Love was to them a part of heaven, and they could not even wish to +receive its happiness, unless assured of being worthy of it. Its +highest happiness to them was that it made them wish to be worthy. +They courted probation. They wished not the title of knight till the +banner had been upheld in the heats of battle, amid the rout of +cowards. + +I ask of you, young girls--I do not mean _you_ whose heart is +that of an old coxcomb, though your looks have not yet lost their +sunny tinge. Not of you whose whole character is tainted with vanity, +inherited or taught, who have early learned the love of coquettish +excitement, and whose eyes rove restlessly in search of a "conquest" +or a "beau;" you who are ashamed _not_ to be seen by others the +mark of the most contemptuous flattery or injurious desire. To such I +do not speak. But to thee, maiden, who, if not so fair, art yet of +that unpolluted nature which Milton saw when he dreamed of Comus and +the Paradise. Thou, child of an unprofaned wedlock, brought up amid +the teachings of the woods and fields, kept fancy-free by useful +employment and a free flight into the heaven of thought, loving to +please only those whom thou wouldst not be ashamed to love; I ask of +thee, whose cheek has not forgotten its blush nor thy heart its +lark-like hopes, if he whom thou mayest hope the Father will send +thee, as the companion of life's toils and joys, is not to thy thought +pure? Is not manliness to thy thought purity, not lawlessness? Can his +lips speak falsely? Can he do, in secret, what he could not avow to +the mother that bore him? O say, dost thou not look for a heart free, +open as thine own, all whose thoughts may be avowed, incapable of +wronging the innocent, or still further degrading the fallen--a man, +in short, in whom brute nature is entirely subject to the impulses of +his better self? + +Yes! it was thus that thou didst hope; for I have many, many times +seen the image of a future life, of a destined spouse, painted on the +tablets of a virgin heart. + +It might be that she was not true to these hopes. She was taken into +what is called "the world," froth and scum as it mostly is on the +social caldron. There, she saw fair Woman carried in the waltz close +to the heart of a being who appeared to her a Satyr. Being warned by a +male friend that he was in fact of that class, and not fit for such +familiar nearness to a chaste being, the advised replied that "women +should know nothing about such things." She saw one fairer given in +wedlock to a man of the same class. "Papa and mamma said that 'all men +were faulty at some time in their lives; they had a great many +temptations.' Frederick would be so happy at home; he would not want +to do wrong." She turned to the married women; they, O tenfold horror! +laughed at her supposing "men were like women." Sometimes, I say, she +was not true, and either sadly accommodated herself to "Woman's lot," +or acquired a taste for satyr-society, like some of the Nymphs, and +all the Bacchanals of old. But to those who could not and would not +accept a mess of pottage, or a Circe cup, in lieu of their birthright, +and to these others who have yet their choice to make, I say, Courage! +I have some words of cheer for you. A man, himself of unbroken purity, +reported to me the words of a foreign artist, that "the world would +never be better till men subjected themselves to the same laws they +had imposed on women;" that artist, he added, was true to the thought. +The same was true of Canova, the same of Beethoven. "Like each other +demi-god, they kept themselves free from stain;" and Michael Angelo, +looking over here from the loneliness of his century, might meet some +eyes that need not shun his glance. + +In private life, I am assured by men who are not so sustained and +occupied by the worship of pure beauty, that a similar consecration is +possible, is practised; that many men feel that no temptation can be +too strong for the will of man, if he invokes the aid of the Spirit +instead of seeking extenuation from the brute alliances of his nature. +In short, what the child fancies is really true, though almost the +whole world declares it a lie. Man is a child of God; and if he seeks +His guidance to keep the heart with diligence, it will be so given +that all the issues of life may be pure. Life will then be a temple. + + The temple round + Spread green the pleasant ground; + The fair colonnade + Be of pure marble pillars made; + Strong to sustain the roof, + Time and tempest proof; + Yet, amidst which, the lightest breeze + Can play as it please; + The audience hall + Be free to all + Who revere + The power worshipped here, + Sole guide of youth, + Unswerving Truth. + In the inmost shrine + Stands the image divine, + Only seen + By those whose deeds have worthy been-- + Priestlike clean. + Those, who initiated are, + Declare, + As the hours + Usher in varying hopes and powers; + It changes its face, + It changes its age, + Now a young, beaming grace, + Now Nestorian sage; + But, to the pure in heart, + This shape of primal art + In age is fair, + In youth seems wise, + Beyond compare, + Above surprise; + What it teaches native seems, + Its new lore our ancient dreams; + Incense rises from the ground; + Music flows around; + Firm rest the feet below, clear gaze the eyes above, + When Truth, to point the way through life, assumes the wand of Love; + But, if she cast aside the robe of green, + Winter's silver sheen, + White, pure as light, + Makes gentle shroud as worthy weed as bridal robe had been. + +[Footnote: As described by the historians:-- + "The temple of Juno is like what the character of Woman should be. + Columns! graceful decorums, attractive yet sheltering. + Porch! noble, inviting aspect of the life. + Kaos! receives the worshippers. See here the statue of the Divinity. + Ophistodpmos! Sanctuary where the most precious possessions were kept + safe from the hand of the spoiler and the eye of the world."] + + +We are now in a transition state, and but few steps have yet been +taken. From polygamy, Europe passed to the marriage _de convenance_. +This was scarcely an improvement An attempt was then made to substitute +genuine marriage (the mutual choice of souls inducing a permanent union), +as yet baffled on every side by the haste, the ignorance, or the impurity +of Man. + +Where Man assumes a high principle to which he is not yet ripened, it +will happen, for a long time, that the few will be nobler than before; +the many, worse. Thus now. In the country of Sidney and Milton, the +metropolis is a den of wickedness, and a sty of sensuality; in the +country of Lady Russell, the custom of English peeresses, of selling +their daughters to the highest bidder, is made the theme and jest of +fashionable novels by unthinking children who would stare at the idea +of sending them to a Turkish slave-dealer, though the circumstances of +the bargain are there less degrading, as the will and thoughts of the +person sold are not so degraded by it, and it is not done in defiance +of an acknowledged law of right in the land and the age. + +I must here add that I do not believe there ever was put upon record +more depravation of Man, and more despicable frivolity of thought and +aim in Woman; than in the novels which purport to give the picture of +English fashionable life, which are read with such favor in our +drawing-rooms, and give the tone to the manners of some circles. +Compared with the cold, hard-hearted folly there described, crime is +hopeful; for it, at least, shows some power remaining in the mental +constitution. + +To return:--Attention has been awakened among men to the stains of +celibacy, and the profanations of marriage. They begin to write about +it and lecture about it. It is the tendency now to endeavor to help +the erring by showing them the physical law. This is wise and +excellent; but forget not the better half. Cold bathing and exercise +will not suffice to keep a life pure, without an inward baptism, and +noble, exhilarating employment for the thoughts and the passions. +Early marriages are desirable, but if (and the world is now so out of +joint that there are a hundred thousand chances to one against it) a +man does not early, or at all, find the person to whom he can be +united in the marriage of souls, will you give him in the marriage +_de convenance_? or, if not married, can you find no way for him +to lead a virtuous and happy life? Think of it well, ye who think +yourselves better than pagans, for many of _them_ knew this sure +way. [Footnote: The Persian sacred books, the Desatir, describe the +great and holy prince Ky Khosrou, as being "an angel, and the son of +an angel," one to whom the Supreme says, "Thou art not absent from +before me for one twinkling of an eye. I am never out of thy heart. +And I am contained in nothing but in thy heart, and in a heart like +thy heart. And I am nearer unto thee than thou art to thyself." This +prince had in his Golden Seraglio three ladies of surpassing beauty, +and all four, in this royal monastery, passed their lives, and left +the world as virgins. + +The Persian people had no scepticism when the history of such a mind +was narrated.] + +To you, women of America, it is more especially my business to address +myself on this subject, and my advice may be classed under three +heads: + +Clear your souls from the taint of vanity. + +Do not rejoice in conquests, either that your power to allure may be +seen by other women, or for the pleasure of rousing passionate +feelings that gratify your love of excitement. + +It must happen, no doubt, that frank and generous women will excite +love they do not reciprocate, but, in nine cases out of ten, the woman +has, half consciously, done much to excite. In this case, she shall +not be held guiltless, either as to the unhappiness or injury of the +lover. Pure love, inspired by a worthy object, must ennoble and bless, +whether mutual or not; but that which is excited by coquettish +attraction of any grade of refinement, must cause bitterness and +doubt, as to the reality of human goodness, so soon as the flush of +passion is over. And, that you may avoid all taste for these false +pleasures, + + "Steep the soul + In one pure love, and it will lost thee long." + + +The love of truth, the love of excellence, whether you clothe them in +the person of a special object or not, will have power to save you +from following Duessa, and lead you in the green glades where Una's +feet have trod. + +It was on this one subject that a venerable champion of good, the last +representative of the spirit which sanctified the Revolution, and gave +our country such a sunlight of hope in the eyes of the nations, the +same who lately, in Boston, offered anew to the young men the pledge +taken by the young men of his day, offered, also, his counsel, on +being addressed by the principal of a girl's school, thus:-- + + +REPLY OF MR. ADAMS. + +Mr. Adams was so deeply affected by the address of Miss Foster, as to +be for some time inaudible. When heard, he spoke as follows: + +"This is the first instance in which a lady has thus addressed me +personally; and I trust that all the ladies present will be able +sufficiently to enter into my feelings to know that I am more affected +by this honor than by any other I could hare received, + +"You have been pleased, madam, to allude to the character of my +father, and the history of my family, and their services to the +country. It is indeed true that, from the existence of the republic as +an independent nation, my father and myself have been in the public +service of the country, almost without interruption. I came into the +world, as a person having personal responsibilities, with the +Declaration of Independence, which constituted us a nation. I was a +child at that time, and had then perhaps the greatest of blessings +that can be bestowed on man--a mother who was anxious and capable to +form her children to be what they ought to be. From that mother I +derived whatever instruction--religious especially and moral--has +pervaded a long life; I will not say perfectly, and as it ought to be; +but I will say, because it is justice only to the memory of her whom I +revere, that if, in the course of my life, there has been any +imperfection, or deviation from what she taught me, the fault is mine, +and not hers. + +"With such a mother, and such other relations with the sex, of sister, +wife, and daughter, it has been the perpetual instruction of my life +to love and revere the female sex. And in order to carry that +sentiment of love and reverence to its highest degree of perfection, I +know of nothing that exists in human society better adapted to produce +that result, than institutions of the character that I have now the +honor to address. + +"I have been taught, as I have said, through the course of my life, to +love and to revere the female sex; but I have been taught, also--and +that lesson has perhaps impressed itself on my mind even more +strongly, it may be, than the other--I have been taught not to flatter +them. It is not unusual, in the intercourse of Man with the other +sex--and especially for young men--to think that the way to win the +hearts of ladies is by flattery. To love and to revere the sex, is +what I think the duty of Man; _but not to flatter them;_ and this +I would say to the young ladies here--and if they, and others present, +will allow me, with all the authority which nearly four score years +may have with those who have not yet attained one score--I would say +to them what I have no doubt they say to themselves, and are taught +here, not to take the flattery of men as proof of perfection. + +"I am now, however, I fear, assuming too much of a character that does +not exactly belong to me. I therefore conclude, by assuring you, +madam, that your reception of me has affected me, as you perceive, +more than I can express in words; and that I shall offer my best +prayers, till my latest hour, to the Creator of us all, that this +institution especially, and all others of a similar kind, designed to +form the female mind to wisdom and virtue, may prosper to the end of +time." + +It will be interesting to add here the character of Mr. Adams' mother, +as drawn by her husband, the first John Adams, in a family letter +[Footnote: Journal and Correspondence of Miss Adams, vol. i., p. 246.] +written just before his death. + +"I have reserved for the last the life of Lady Russell. This I have +not yet read, because I read it more than forty years ago. On this +hangs a tale which you ought to know and communicate it to your +children. I bought the Life and Letters of Lady Russell in the year +1775, and sent it to your grandmother, with an express intent and +desire that she should consider it a mirror in which to contemplate +herself; for, at that time, I thought it extremely probable, from the +daring and dangerous career I was determined to run, that she would +one day find herself in the situation of Lady Russell, her husband +without a head. This lady was more beautiful than Lady Russell, had a +brighter genius, more information, a more refined taste, and, at +least, her equal in the virtues of the heart; equal fortitude and +firmness of character, equal resignation to the will of Heaven, equal +in all the virtues and graces of the Christian life. Like Lady +Russell, she never, by word or look, discouraged me from running all +hazards for the salvation of my country's liberties; she was willing +to share with me, and that her children should share with us both, in +all the dangerous consequences we had to hazard." + +Will a woman who loves flattery or an aimless excitement, who wastes +the flower of her mind on transitory sentiments, ever be loved with a +love like that, when fifty years' trial have entitled to the +privileges of "the golden marriage?" + +Such was the love of the iron-handed warrior for her, not his +hand-maid, but his help-meet: + +"Whom God loves, to him gives he such a wife." + +I find the whole of what I want in this relation, in the two epithets +by which Milton makes Adam address _his_ wife. + +In the intercourse of every day he begins: + + "Daughter of God and man, _accomplished_ Eve." + [Footnote: See Appendix H.] + + +In a moment of stronger feeling, + + "Daughter of God and man, IMMORTAL Eve." + + +What majesty in the cadence of the line; what dignity, what reverence +in the attitude both of giver and receiver! + +The woman who permits, in her life, the alloy of vanity; the woman who +lives upon flattery, coarse or fine, shall never be thus addressed, +She is _not_ immortal so far as her will is concerned, and every +woman who does so creates miasma, whose spread is indefinite. The hand +which casts into the waters of life a stone of offence knows not how +far the circles thus caused may spread their agitations. + +A little while since I was at one of the most fashionable places of +public resort. I saw there many women, dressed without regard to the +season or the demands of the place, in apery, or, as it looked, in +mockery, of European fashions. I saw their eyes restlessly courting +attention. I saw the way in which it was paid; the style of devotion, +almost an open sneer, which it pleased those ladies to receive from +men whose expression marked their own low position in the moral and +intellectual world. Those women went to their pillows with their heads +full of folly, their hearts of jealousy, or gratified vanity; those +men, with the low opinion they already entertained of Woman confirmed. +These were American _ladies;_ that is, they were of that class +who have wealth and leisure to make full use of the day, and confer +benefits on others. They were of that class whom the possession of +external advantages makes of pernicious example to many, if these +advantages be misused. + +Soon after, I met a circle of women, stamped by society as among the +most degraded of their sex. "How," it was asked of them, "did you come +here?" for by the society that I saw in the former place they were +shut up in a prison. The causes were not difficult to trace: love of +dress, love of flattery, love of excitement. They had not dresses like +the other ladies, so they stole them; they could not pay for flattery +by distinctions, and the dower of a worldly marriage, so they paid by +the profanation of their persons. In excitement, more and more madly +sought from day to day, they drowned the voice of conscience. + +Now I ask you, my sisters, if the women at the fashionable house be +not answerable for those women being in the prison? + +As to position in the world of souls, we may suppose the women of the +prison stood fairest, both because they had misused less light, and +because loneliness and sorrow had brought some of them to feel the +need of better life, nearer truth and good. This was no merit in them, +being an effect of circumstance, but it was hopeful. But you, my +friends (and some of you I have already met), consecrate yourselves +without waiting for reproof, in free love and unbroken energy, to win +and to diffuse a better life. Offer beauty, talents, riches, on the +altar; thus shall you keep spotless your own hearts, and be visibly or +invisibly the angels to others. + +I would urge upon those women who have not yet considered this +subject, to do so. Do not forget the unfortunates who dare not cross +your guarded way. If it do not suit you to act with those who have +organized measures of reform, then hold not yourself excused from +acting in private. Seek out these degraded women, give them tender +sympathy, counsel, employment. Take the place of mothers, such as +might have saved them originally. + +If you can do little for those already under the ban of the +world,--and the best-considered efforts have often failed, from a want +of strength in those unhappy ones to bear up against the sting of +shame and the prejudices of the world, which makes them seek oblivion +again in their old excitements,--you will at least leave a sense of +love and justice in their hearts, that will prevent their becoming +utterly embittered and corrupt. And you may learn the means of +prevention for those yet uninjured. These will be found in a diffusion +of mental culture, simple tastes, best taught by your example, a +genuine self-respect, and, above all, what the influence of Man tends +to hide from Woman, the love and fear of a divine, in preference to a +human tribunal. + +But suppose you save many who would have lost their bodily innocence +(for as to mental, the loss of that is incalculably more general), +through mere vanity and folly; there still remain many, the prey and +spoil of the brute passions of Man; for the stories frequent in our +newspapers outshame antiquity, and vie with the horrors of war. + +As to this, it must be considered that, as the vanity and proneness to +seduction of the imprisoned women represented a general degradation in +their sex; so do these acts a still more general and worse in the +male. Where so many are weak, it is natural there should be many lost; +where legislators admit that ten thousand prostitutes are a fair +proportion to one city, and husbands tell their wives that it is folly +to expect chastity from men, it is inevitable that there should be +many monsters of vice. + +I must in this place mention, with respect and gratitude, the conduct +of Mrs. Child in the case of Amelia Norman. The action and speech of +this lady was of straightforward nobleness, undeterred by custom or +cavil from duty toward an injured sister. She showed the case and the +arguments the counsel against the prisoner had the assurance to use in +their true light to the public. She put the case on the only ground of +religion and equity. She was successful in arresting the attention of +many who had before shrugged their shoulders, and let sin pass as +necessarily a part of the company of men. They begin to ask whether +virtue is not possible, perhaps necessary, to Man as well as to Woman. +They begin to fear that the perdition of a woman must involve that of +a man. This is a crisis. The results of this case will be important. + +In this connection I must mention Eugene Sue, the French novelist, +several of whose works have been lately translated among us, as having +the true spirit of reform as to women. Like every other French writer, +he is still tainted with the transmissions of the old _regime_. +Still, falsehood may be permitted for the sake of advancing truth, +evil as the way to good. Even George Sand, who would trample on every +graceful decorum, and every human law, for the sake of a sincere life, +does not see that she violates it by making her heroines able to tell +falsehoods in a good cause. These French writers need ever to be +confronted by the clear perception of the English and German mind, +that the only good man, consequently the only good reformer, is he + + "Who bases good on good alone, and owes + To virtue every triumph that he knows." + + +Still, Sue has the heart of a reformer, and especially towards women; +he sees what they need, and what causes are injuring them. From the +histories of Fleur de Marie and La Louve, from the lovely and +independent character of Rigolette, from the distortion given to +Matilda's mind, by the present views of marriage, and from the truly +noble and immortal character of the "hump-backed Sempstress" in the +"Wandering Jew," may be gathered much that shall elucidate doubt and +direct inquiry on this subject. In reform, as in philosophy, the +French are the interpreters to the civilized world. Their own +attainments are not great, but they make clear the post, and break +down barriers to the future. + +Observe that the good man of Sue is as pure as Sir Charles Grandison. + +Apropos to Sir Charles. Women are accustomed to be told by men that +the reform is to come _from them_. "You," say the men, "must +frown upon vice; you must decline the attentions of the corrupt; you +must not submit to the will of your husband when it seems to you +unworthy, but give the laws in marriage, and redeem it from its +present sensual and mental pollutions." + +This seems to us hard. Men have, indeed, been, for more than a hundred +years, rating women for countenancing vice. But, at the same time, +they have carefully hid from them its nature, so that the preference +often shown by women for bad men arises rather from a confused idea +that they are bold and adventurous, acquainted with regions which +women are forbidden to explore, and the curiosity that ensues, than a +corrupt heart in the woman. As to marriage, it has been inculcated on +women, for centuries, that men have not only stronger passions than +they, but of a sort that it would be shameful for them to share or +even understand; that, therefore, they must "confide in their +husbands," that is, submit implicitly to their will; that the least +appearance of coldness or withdrawal, from whatever cause, in the wife +is wicked, because liable to turn her husband's thoughts to illicit +indulgence; for a man is so constituted that he must indulge his +passions or die! + +Accordingly, a great part of women look upon men as a kind of wild +beasts, but "suppose they are all alike;" the unmarried are assured by +the married that, "if they knew men as they do," that is, by being +married to them, "they would not expect continence or self-government +from them." + +I might accumulate illustrations on this theme, drawn from +acquaintance with the histories of women, which would startle and +grieve all thinking men, but I forbear. Let Sir Charles Grandison +preach to his own sex; or if none there be who feels himself able to +speak with authority from a life unspotted in will or deed, let those +who are convinced of the practicability and need of a pure life, as +the foreign artist was, advise the others, and warn them by their own +example, if need be. + +The following passage, from a female writer, on female affairs, +expresses a prevalent way of thinking on this subject: + +"It may be that a young woman, exempt from all motives of vanity, +determines to take for a husband a man who does not inspire her with a +very decided inclination. Imperious circumstances, the evident +interest of her family, or the danger of suffering celibacy, may +explain such a resolution. If, however, she were to endeavor to +surmount a personal repugnance, we should look upon this as +_injudicious_. Such a rebellion of nature marks the limit that +the influence of parents, or the self-sacrifice of the young girl, +should never pass. _We shall be told that this repugnance is an +affair of the imagination_. It may be so; but imagination is a +power which it is temerity to brave; and its antipathy is more +difficult to conquer than its preference." [Footnote: Madame Necker de +Saussure.] + +Among ourselves, the exhibition of such a repugnance from a woman who +had been given in marriage "by advice of friends," was treated by an +eminent physician as sufficient proof of insanity. If he had said +sufficient cause for it, he would have been nearer right. + +It has been suggested by men who were pained by seeing bad men +admitted, freely, to the society of modest women,--thereby encouraged +to vice by impunity, and corrupting the atmosphere of homes,--that +there should be a senate of the matrons in each city and town, who +should decide what candidates were fit for admission to their houses +and the society of their daughters. [Footnote: See Goethe's Tasso. "A +synod of good women should decide,"--if the golden age is to be +restored.] + +Such a plan might have excellent results; but it argues a moral +dignity and decision which does not yet exist, and needs to be induced +by knowledge and reflection. It has been the tone to keep women +ignorant on these subjects, or, when they were not, to command that +they should seem so. "It is indelicate," says the father or husband, +"to inquire into the private character of such an one. It is +sufficient that I do not think him unfit to visit you." And so, this +man, who would not tolerate these pages in his house, "unfit for +family reading," because they speak plainly, introduces there a man +whose shame is written on his brow, as well as the open secret of the +whole town, and, presently, if _respectable_ still, and rich +enough, gives him his daughter to wife. The mother affects ignorance, +"supposing he is no worse than most men." The daughter _is_ +ignorant; something in the mind of the new spouse seems strange to +her, but she supposes it is "woman's lot" not to be perfectly happy in +her affections; she has always heard, "men could not understand +women," so she weeps alone, or takes to dress and the duties of the +house. The husband, of course, makes no avowal, and dreams of no +redemption. + +"In the heart of every young woman," says the female writer above +quoted, addressing herself to the husband, "depend upon it, there is a +fund of exalted ideas; she conceals, represses, without succeeding in +smothering them. _So long as these ideas in your wife are directed +to YOU, they are, no doubt, innocent_, but take care that they be +not accompanied with _too much_ pain. In other respects, also, +spare her delicacy. Let all the antecedent parts of your life, if +there are such, which would give her pain, be concealed from her; +_her happiness and her respect for you would suffer from this +misplaced confidence._ Allow her to retain that flower of purity, +_which should distinguish her, in your eyes, from every other +woman_." We should think so, truly, under this canon. Such a man +must esteem purity an exotic that could only be preserved by the +greatest care. Of the degree of mental intimacy possible, in such a +marriage, let every one judge for himself! + +On this subject, let every woman, who has once begun to think, examine +herself; see whether she does not suppose virtue possible and +necessary to Man, and whether she would not desire for her son a +virtue which aimed at a fitness for a divine life, and involved, if +not asceticism, that degree of power over the lower self, which shall +"not exterminate the passions, but keep them chained at the feet of +reason." The passions, like fire, are a bad muster; but confine them +to the hearth and the altar, and they give life to the social economy, +and make each sacrifice meet for heaven. + +When many women have thought upon this subject, some will be fit for +the senate, and one such senate in operation would affect the morals +of the civilized world. + +At present I look to the young. As preparatory to the senate, I should +like to see a society of novices, such as the world has never yet +seen, bound by no oath, wearing no badge, In place of an oath, they +should have a religious faith in the capacity of Man for virtue; +instead of a badge, should wear in the heart a firm resolve not to +stop short of the destiny promised him as a son of God. Their service +should be action and conservatism, not of old habits, but of a better +nature, enlightened by hopes that daily grow brighter. + +If sin was to remain in the world, it should not be by their +connivance at its stay, or one moment's concession to its claims. + +They should succor the oppressed, and pay to the upright the reverence +due in hero-worship by seeking to emulate them. They would not +denounce the willingly bad, but they could not be with them, for the +two classes could not breathe the same atmosphere. + +They would heed no detention from the time-serving, the worldly and +the timid. + +They could love no pleasures that were not innocent and capable of +good fruit, + +I saw, in a foreign paper, the title now given to a party abroad, "Los +Exaltados." Such would be the title now given these children by the +world: Los Exaltados, Las Exaltadas; but the world would not sneer +always, for from them would issue a virtue by which it would, at last, +be exalted too. + +I have in my eye a youth and a maiden whom I look to as the nucleus of +such a class. They are both in early youth; both as yet +uncontaminated; both aspiring, without rashness; both thoughtful; both +capable of deep affection; both of strong nature and sweet feelings; +both capable of large mental development. They reside in different +regions of earth, but their place in the soul is the same. To them I +look, as, perhaps, the harbingers and leaders of a new era, for never +yet have I known minds so truly virgin, without narrowness or +ignorance. + +When men call upon women to redeem them, they mean such maidens. But +such are not easily formed under the present influences of society. As +there are more such young men to help give a different tone, there +will be more such maidens. + +The English, novelist, D'Israeli, has, in his novel of "The Young +Duke," made a man of the most depraved stock be redeemed by a woman +who despises him when he has only the brilliant mask of fortune and +beauty to cover the poverty of his heart and brain, but knows how to +encourage him when he enters on a better course. But this woman was +educated by a father who valued character in women. + +Still, there will come now and then one who will, as I hope of my +young Exaltada, be example and instruction for the rest. It was not +the opinion of Woman current among Jewish men that formed the +character of the mother of Jesus. + +Since the sliding and backsliding men of the world, no less than the +mystics, declare that, as through Woman Man was lost, so through Woman +must Man be redeemed, the time must be at hand. When she knows herself +indeed as "accomplished," still more as "immortal Eve," this may be. + +As an immortal, she may also know and inspire immortal love, a +happiness not to be dreamed of under the circumstances advised in the +last quotation. Where love is based on concealment, it must, of +course, disappear when the soul enters the scene of clear vision! + +And, without this hope, how worthless every plan, every bond, every +power! + +"The giants," said the Scandinavian Saga, "had induced Loke (the +spirit that hovers between good and ill) to steal for them Iduna +(Goddess of Immortality) and her apples of pure gold. He lured her +out, by promising to show, on a marvellous tree he had discovered, +apples beautiful as her own, if she would only take them with her for +a comparison. Thus having lured her beyond the heavenly domain, she +was seized and carried away captive by the powers of misrule. + +"As now the gods could not find their friend Iduna, they were confused +with grief; indeed, they began visibly to grow old and gray. Discords +arose, and love grew cold. Indeed, Odur, spouse of the goddess of love +and beauty, wandered away, and returned no more. At last, however, the +gods, discovering the treachery of Loke, obliged him to win back Iduna +from the prison in which she sat mourning. He changed himself into a +falcon, and brought her back as a swallow, fiercely pursued by the +Giant King, in the form of an eagle. So she strives to return among +us, light and small as a swallow. We must welcome her form as the +speck on the sky that assures the glad blue of Summer. Yet one swallow +does not make a summer. Let us solicit them in flights and flocks!" + + * * * * * + +Returning from the future to the present, let us see what forms Iduna +takes, as she moves along the declivity of centuries to the valley +where the lily flower may concentrate all its fragrance. + +It would seem as if this time were not very near to one fresh from +books, such as I have of late been--no: _not_ reading, but +sighing over. A crowd of books having been sent me since my friends +knew me to be engaged in this way, on Woman's "Sphere,", Woman's +"Mission," and Woman's "Destiny," I believe that almost all that is +extant of formal precept has come under my eye. Among these I read +with refreshment a little one called "The Whole Duty of Woman," +"indited by a noble lady at the request of a noble lord," and which +has this much of nobleness, that the view it takes is a religious one. +It aims to fit Woman for heaven; the main bent of most of the others +is to fit her to please, or, at least, not to disturb, a husband. + +Among these I select, as a favorable specimen, the book I have already +quoted, "The Study [Footnote: This title seems to be incorrectly +translated from the French. I have not seen the original] of the Life +of Woman, by Madame Necker de Saussure, of Geneva, translated from the +French." This book was published at Philadelphia, and has been read +with much favor here. Madame Necker is the cousin of Madame de Stael, +and has taken from her works the motto prefixed to this. + +"Cette vie n'a quelque prix que si elle sert a' l'education morale do +notre coeur." + +Mde. Necker is, by nature, capable of entire consistency in the +application of this motto, and, therefore, the qualifications she +makes, in the instructions given to her own sex, show forcibly the +weight which still paralyzes and distorts the energies of that sex. + +The book is rich in passages marked by feeling and good suggestions; +but, taken in the whole, the impression it leaves is this: + +Woman is, and _shall remain_, inferior to Man and subject to his +will, and, in endeavoring to aid her, we must anxiously avoid anything +that can be misconstrued into expression of the contrary opinion, else +the men will be alarmed, and combine to defeat our efforts. + +The present is a good time for these efforts, for men are less +occupied about women than formerly. Let us, then, seize upon the +occasion, and do what we can to make our lot tolerable. But we must +sedulously avoid encroaching on the territory of Man. If we study +natural history, our observations may be made useful, by some male +naturalist; if we draw well, we may make our services acceptable to +the artists. But our names must not be known; and, to bring these +labors to any result, we must take some man for our head, and be his +hands. + +The lot of Woman is sad. She is constituted to expect and need a +happiness that cannot exist on earth. She must stifle such aspirations +within her secret heart, and fit herself, as well as she can, for a +life of resignations and consolations. + +She will be very lonely while living with her husband. She must not +expect to open her heart to him fully, or that, after marriage, he +will be capable of the refined service of love. The man is not born +for the woman, only the woman for the man. "Men cannot understand the +hearts of women." The life of Woman must be outwardly a +well-intentioned, cheerful dissimulation of her real life. + +Naturally, the feelings of the mother, at the birth of a female child, +resemble those of the Paraguay woman, described by Southey as +lamenting in such heart-breaking tones that her mother did not kill +her the hour she was born,--"her mother, who knew what this life of a +woman must be;"--or of those women seen at the north by Sir A. +Mackenzie, who performed this pious duty towards female infants +whenever they had an opportunity. + +"After the first delight, the young mother experiences feelings a +little different, according as the birth of a son or a daughter has +been announced. + +"Is it a son? A sort of glory swells at this thought the heart of the +mother; she seems to feel that she is entitled to gratitude. She has +given a citizen, a defender, to her country; to her husband an heir of +his name; to herself a protector. And yet the contrast of all these +fine titles with this being, so humble, soon strikes her. At the +aspect of this frail treasure, opposite feelings agitate her heart; +she seems to recognise in him _a nature superior to her own_, but +subjected to a low condition, and she honors a future greatness in the +object of extreme compassion. Somewhat of that respect and adoration +for a feeble child, of which some fine pictures offer the expression +in the features of the happy Mary, seem reproduced with the young +mother who has given birth to a son. + +"Is it a daughter? There is usually a slight degree of regret; so +deeply rooted is the idea of the superiority of Man in happiness and +dignity; and yet, as she looks upon this child, she is more and more +_softened_ towards it. A deep sympathy--a sentiment of identity +with this delicate being--takes possession of her; an extreme pity for +so much weakness, a more pressing need of prayer, stirs her heart. +Whatever sorrows she may have felt, she dreads for her daughter; but +she will guide her to become much wiser, much better than herself. And +then the gayety, the frivolity of the young woman have their turn. +This little creature is a flower to cultivate, a doll to decorate." + +Similar sadness at the birth of a daughter I have heard mothers +express not unfrequently. + +As to this living so entirely for men, I should think when it was +proposed to women they would feel, at least, some spark of the old +spirit of races allied to our own. "If he is to be my bridegroom +_and lord_" cries Brunhilda, [Footnote: See the Nibelungen Lays.] +"he must first be able to pass through fire and water." "I will serve +at the banquet," says the Walkyrie, "but only him who, in the trial +of deadly combat, has shown himself a hero." + +If women are to be bond-maids, let it be to men superior to women in +fortitude, in aspiration, in moral power, in refined sense of beauty. +You who give yourselves "to be supported," or because "one must love +something," are they who make the lot of the sex such that mothers are +sad when daughters are born. + +It marks the state of feeling on this subject that it was mentioned, +as a bitter censure on a woman who had influence over those younger +than herself,--"She makes those girls want to see heroes?" + +"And will that hurt them?" + +"Certainly; how _can_ you ask? They will find none, and so they +will never be married." + +"_Get_ married" is the usual phrase, and the one that correctly +indicates the thought; but the speakers, on this occasion, were +persons too outwardly refined to use it. They were ashamed of the +word, but not of the thing. Madame Necker, however, sees good possible +in celibacy. + +Indeed, I know not how the subject could be better illustrated, than +by separating the wheat from the chaff in Madame Necker's book; place +them in two heaps, and then summon the reader to choose; giving him +first a near-sighted glass to examine the two;--it might be a +Christian, an astronomical, or an artistic glass,--any kind of good +glass to obviate acquired defects in the eye. I would lay any wager on +the result. + +But time permits not here a prolonged analysis. I have given the clues +for fault-finding. + +As a specimen of the good take the following passage, on the phenomena +of what I have spoken of, as the lyrical or electric element in Woman. + +"Women have been seen to show themselves poets in the most pathetic +pantomimic scenes, where all the passions were depicted full of +beauty; and these poets used a language unknown to themselves, and, +the performance once over, their inspiration was a forgotten dream. +Without doubt there is an interior development to beings so gifted; +but their sole mode of communication with us is their talent. They +are, ill all besides, the inhabitants of another planet." + +Similar observations have been made by those who have seen the women +at Irish wakes, or the funeral ceremonies of modern Greece or Brittany, +at times when excitement gave the impulse to genius; but, apparently, +without a thought that these rare powers belonged to no other planet, +but were a high development of the growth of this, and might, by wise +and reverent treatment, be made to inform and embellish the scenes of +every day. But, when Woman has her fair chance, she will do so, and +the poem of the hour will vie with that of the ages. + +I come now with satisfaction to my own country, and to a writer, a +female writer, whom I have selected as the clearest, wisest, and +kindliest, who has, as yet, used pen here on these subjects. This is +Miss Sedgwick. + +Miss Sedgwick, though she inclines to the private path, and wishes +that, by the cultivation of character, might should vindicate right, +sets limits nowhere, and her objects and inducements are pure. They +are the free and careful cultivation of the powers that have been +given, with an aim at moral and intellectual perfection. Her speech is +moderate and sane, but never palsied by fear or sceptical caution. + +Herself a fine example of the independent and beneficent existence +that intellect and character can give to Woman, no less than Man, if +she know how to seek and prize it,--also, that the intellect need not +absorb or weaken, but rather will refine and invigorate, the +affections,--the teachings of her practical good sense come with great +force, and cannot fail to avail much. Every way her writings please me +both as to the means and the ends. I am pleased at the stress she lays +on observance of the physical laws, because the true reason is given. +Only in a strong and clean body can the soul do its message fitly. + +She shows the meaning of the respect paid to personal neatness, both +in the indispensable form of cleanliness, and of that love of order +and arrangement, that must issue from a true harmony of feeling. + +The praises of cold water seem to me an excellent sign in the age. +They denote a tendency to the true life. We are now to have, as a +remedy for ills, not orvietan, or opium, or any quack medicine, but +plenty of air and water, with due attention to warmth and freedom in +dress, and simplicity of diet. + +Every day we observe signs that the natural feelings on these subjects +are about to be reinstated, and the body to claim care as the abode +and organ of the soul; not as the tool of servile labor, or the object +of voluptuous indulgence. + +A poor woman, who had passed through the lowest grades of ignominy, +seemed to think she had never been wholly lost, "for," said she, "I +would always have good under-clothes;" and, indeed, who could doubt +that this denoted the remains of private self-respect in the mind? + +A woman of excellent sense said, "It might seem childish, but to her +one of the most favorable signs of the times was that the ladies had +been persuaded to give up corsets." + +Yes! let us give up all artificial means of distortion. Let life be +healthy, pure, all of a piece. Miss Sedgwick, in teaching that +domestics must have the means of bathing us much as their mistresses, +and time, too, to bathe, has symbolized one of the most important of +human rights. + +Another interesting sign of the time is the influence exercised by two +women, Miss Martineau and Miss Barrett, from their sick-rooms. The +lamp of life which, if it had been fed only by the affections, +depended on precarious human relations, would scarce have been able to +maintain a feeble glare in the lonely prison, now shines far and wide +over the nations, cheering fellow-sufferers and hallowing the joy of +the healthful. + +These persons need not health or youth, or the charms of personal +presence, to make their thoughts available. A few more such, and "old +woman" [Footnote: An apposite passage is quoted in Appendix F.] shall +not be the synonyme for imbecility, nor "old maid" a term of +contempt, nor Woman be spoken of as a reed shaken by the wind. + +It is time, indeed, that men and women both should cease to grow old +in any other way than as the tree does, full of grace and honor. The +hair of the artist turns white, but his eye shines clearer than ever, +and we feel that age brings him maturity, not decay. So would it be +with all, were the springs of immortal refreshment but unsealed within +the soul; then, like these women, they would see, from the lonely +chamber window, the glories of the universe; or, shut in darkness, be +visited by angels. + +I now touch on my own place and day, and, as I write, events are +occurring that threaten the fair fabric approached by so long an +avenue. Week before last, the Gentile was requested to aid the Jew to +return to Palestine; for the Millennium, the reign of the Son of Mary +was near. Just now, at high and solemn mass, thanks were returned to +the Virgin for having delivered O'Connell from unjust imprisonment, in +requital of his having consecrated to her the league formed in behalf +of Liberty on Tara's Hill. But last week brought news which threatens +that a cause identical with the enfranchisement of Jews, Irish, women, +ay, and of Americans in general, too, is in danger, for the choice of +the people threatens to rivet the chains of slavery and the leprosy of +sin permanently on this nation, through the Annexation of Texas! + +Ah! if this should take place, who will dare again to feel the throb +of heavenly hope, as to the destiny of this country? The noble thought +that gave unity to all our knowledge, harmony to all our designs,--the +thought that the progress of history had brought on the era, the +tissue of prophecies pointed out the spot, where humanity was, at +last, to have a fair chance to know itself, and all men be born free +and equal for the eagle's flight,--flutters as if about to leave the +breast, which, deprived of it, will have no more a nation, no more a +home on earth. + +Women of my country!--Exaltadas! if such there be,--women of English, +old English nobleness, who understand the courage of Boadicea, the +sacrifice of Godiva, the power of Queen Emma to tread the red-hot iron +unharmed,--women who share the nature of Mrs. Hutchinson, Lady +Russell, and the mothers of our own revolution,--have you nothing to +do with this? You see the men, how they are willing to sell +shamelessly the happiness of countless generations of fellow-creatures, +the honor of their country, and their immortal souls, for a money +market and political power. Do you not feel within you that which can +reprove them, which can check, which can convince them? You would not +speak in vain; whether each in her own home, or banded in unison. + +Tell these men that you will not accept the glittering baubles, +spacious dwellings, and plentiful service, they mean to offer you +through those means. Tell them that the heart of Woman demands +nobleness and honor in Man, and that, if they have not purity, have +not mercy, they are no longer fathers, lovers, husbands, sons of +yours. + +This cause is your own, for, as I have before said, there is a reason +why the foes of African Slavery seek more freedom for women; but put +it not upon that ground, but on the ground of right. + +If you have a power, it is a moral power. The films of interest are +not so close around you as around the men. If you will but think, you +cannot fail to wish to save the country from this disgrace. Let not +slip the occasion, but do something to lift off the curse incurred by +Eve. + +You have heard the women engaged in the Abolition movement accused of +boldness, because they lifted the voice in public, and lifted the +latch of the stranger. But were these acts, whether performed +judiciously or no, _so_ bold as to dare before God and Man to +partake the fruits of such offence as this? + +You hear much of the modesty of your sex. Preserve it by filling the +mind with noble desires that shall ward off the corruptions of vanity +and idleness. A profligate woman, who left her accustomed haunts and +took service in a New York boarding-house, said "she had never heard +talk so vile at the Five Points, as from the ladies at the +boarding-house." And why? Because they were idle; because, having +nothing worthy to engage them, they dwelt, with unnatural curiosity, +on the ill they dared not go to see. + +It will not so much injure your modesty to have your name, by the +unthinking, coupled with idle blame, as to have upon your soul the +weight of not trying to save a whole race of women from the scorn that +is put upon _their_ modesty. + +Think of this well! I entreat, I conjure you, before it is too late. +It is my belief that something effectual might be done by women, if +they would only consider the subject, and enter upon it in the true +spirit,--a spirit gentle, but firm, and which feared the offence of +none, save One who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity. + +And now I have designated in outline, if not in fulness, the stream +which is ever flowing from the heights of my thought. + +In the earlier tract I was told I did not make my meaning sufficiently +clear. In this I have consequently tried to illustrate it in various +ways, and may have been guilty of much repetition. Yet, as I am +anxious to leave no room for doubt, I shall venture to retrace, once +more, the scope of my design in points, as wad done in old-fashioned +sermons. + +Man is a being of two-fold relations, to nature beneath, and +intelligences above him. The earth is his school, if not his +birth-place; God his object; life and thought his means of +interpreting nature, and aspiring to God. + +Only a fraction of this purpose is accomplished in the life of any one +man. Its entire accomplishment is to be hoped only from the sum of the +lives of men, or Man considered as a whole. + +As this whole has one soul and one body, any injury or obstruction to +a part, or to the meanest member, affects the whole. Man can never be +perfectly happy or virtuous, till all men are so. + +To address Man wisely, you must not forget that his life is partly +animal, subject to the same laws with Nature. + +But you cannot address him wisely unless you consider him still more +as soul, and appreciate the conditions and destiny of soul. + +The growth of Man is two-fold, masculine and feminine. + +So far as these two methods can be distinguished, they are so as + + Energy and Harmony; + Power and Beauty; + Intellect and Love; + +or by some such rude classification; for we have not language +primitive and pure enough to express such ideas with precision. + +These two sides are supposed to be expressed in Man and Woman, that +is, as the more and the less, for the faculties have not been given +pure to either, but only in preponderance. There are also exceptions +in great number, such as men of far more beauty than power, and the +reverse. But, as a general rule, it seems to have been the intention +to give a preponderance on the one side, that is called masculine, and +on the other, one that is called feminine. + +There cannot be a doubt that, if these two developments were in +perfect harmony, they would correspond to and fulfil one another, like +hemispheres, or the tenor and bass in music. + +But there is no perfect harmony in human nature; and the two parts +answer one another only now and then; or, if there be a persistent +consonance, it can only be traced at long intervals, instead of +discoursing an obvious melody. + +What is the cause of this? + +Man, in the order of time, was developed first; as energy comes before +harmony; power before beauty. + +Woman was therefore under his care as an elder. He might have been her +guardian and teacher. + +But, as human nature goes not straight forward, but by excessive +action and then reaction in an undulated course, he misunderstood and +abused his advantages, and became her temporal master instead of her +spiritual sire. + +On himself came the punishment. He educated Woman more as a servant +than a daughter, and found himself a king without a queen. + +The children of this unequal union showed unequal natures, and, more +and more, men seemed sons of the handmaid, rather than princess. + +At last, there were so many Ishmaelites that the rest grew frightened +and indignant. They laid the blame on Hagar, and drove her forth into +the wilderness. + +But there were none the fewer Ishmaelites for that. + +At last men became a little wiser, and saw that the infant Moses was, +in every case, saved by the pure instincts of Woman's breast. For, as +too much adversity is better for the moral nature than too much +prosperity, Woman, in this respect, dwindled less than Man, though in +other respects still a child in leading-strings. + +So Man did her more and more justice, and grew more and more kind. + +But yet--his habits and his will corrupted by the past--he did not +clearly see that Woman was half himself; that her interests were +identical with his; and that, by the law of their common being, he +could never reach his true proportions while she remained in any wise +shorn of hers. + +And so it has gone on to our day; both ideas developing, but more +slowly than they would under a clearer recognition of truth and +justice, which would have permitted the sexes their due influence on +one another, and mutual improvement from more dignified relations. + +Wherever there was pure love, the natural influences were, for the +time, restored. + +Wherever the poet or artist gave free course to his genius, he saw the +truth, and expressed it in worthy forms, for these men especially +share and need the feminine principle. The divine birds need to be +brooded into life and song by mothers. + +Wherever religion (I mean the thirst for truth and good, not the love +of sect and dogma) had its course, the original design was apprehended +in its simplicity, and the dove presaged sweetly from Dodona's oak. + +I have aimed to show that no age was left entirely without a witness +of the equality of the sexes in function, duty and hope. + +Also that, when there was unwillingness or ignorance, which prevented +this being acted upon, women had not the less power for their want of +light and noble freedom. But it was power which hurt alike them and +those against whom they made use of the arms of the servile,--cunning, +blandishment, and unreasonable emotion. + +That now the time has come when a clearer vision and better action are +possible--when Man and Woman may regard one another, as brother and +sister, the pillars of one porch, the priests of one worship. + +I have believed and intimated that this hope would receive an ampler +fruition, than ever before, in our own land. + +And it will do so if this land carry out the principles from which +sprang our national life. + +I believe that, at present, women are the best helpers of one another. + +Let them think; let them act; till they know what they need. + +We only ask of men to remove arbitrary barriers. Some would like to do +more. But I believe it needs that Woman show herself in her native +dignity, to teach them how to aid her; their minds are so encumbered +by tradition. + +When Lord Edward Fitzgerald travelled with the Indians, his manly +heart obliged him at once to take the packs from the squaws and carry +them. But we do not read that the red men followed his example, though +they are ready enough to carry the pack of the white woman, because +she seems to them a superior being. + +Let Woman appear in the mild majesty of Ceres, and rudest churls will +be willing to learn from her. + +You ask, what use will she make of liberty, when she has so long been +sustained and restrained? + +I answer; in the first place, this will not be suddenly given. I read +yesterday a debate of this year on the subject of enlarging women's +rights over property. It was a leaf from the class-book that is +preparing for the needed instruction. The men learned visibly as they +spoke. The champions of Woman saw the fallacy of arguments on the +opposite side, and were startled by their own convictions. With their +wives at home, and the readers of the paper, it was the same. And so +the stream flows on; thought urging action, and action leading to the +evolution of still better thought. + +But, were this freedom to come suddenly, I have no fear of the +consequences. Individuals might commit excesses, but there is not only +in the sex a reverence for decorums and limits inherited and enhanced +from generation to generation, which many years of other life could +not efface, but a native love, in Woman as Woman, of proportion, of +"the simple art of not too much,"--a Greek moderation, which would +create immediately a restraining party, the natural legislators and +instructors of the rest, and would gradually establish such rules as +are needed to guard, without impeding, life. + +The Graces would lead the choral dance, and teach the rest to regulate +their steps to the measure of beauty. + +But if you ask me what offices they may fill, I reply--any. I do not +care what case you put; let them be sea-captains, if you will. I do +not doubt there are women well fitted for such an office, and, if so, +I should be as glad to see them in it, as to welcome the maid of +Saragossa, or the maid of Missolonghi, or the Suliote heroine, or +Emily Plater. + +I think women need, especially at this juncture, a much greater range +of occupation than they have, to rouse their latent powers. A party of +travellers lately visited a lonely hut on a mountain. There they found +an old woman, who told them she and her husband had lived there forty +years. "Why," they said, "did you choose so barren a spot?" She "did +not know; _it was the man's notion."_ + +And, during forty years, she had been content to act, without knowing +why, upon "the man's notion." I would not have it so. + +In families that I know, some little girls like to saw wood, others to +use carpenters' tools. Where these tastes are indulged, cheerfulness +and good-humor are promoted. Where they are forbidden, because "such +things are not proper for girls," they grow sullen and mischievous. + +Fourier had observed these wants of women, as no one can fail to do +who watches the desires of little girls, or knows the ennui that +haunts grown women, except where they make to themselves a serene +little world by art of some kind. He, therefore, in proposing a great +variety of employments, in manufactures or the care of plants and +animals, allows for one third of women as likely to have a taste for +masculine pursuits, one third of men for feminine. + +Who does not observe the immediate glow and serenity that is diffused +over the life of women, before restless or fretful, by engaging in +gardening, building, or the lowest department of art? Here is +something that is not routine, something that draws forth life towards +the infinite. + +I have no doubt, however, that a large proportion of women would give +themselves to the same employments as now, because there are +circumstances that must lead them. Mothers will delight to make the +nest soft and warm. Nature would take care of that; no need to clip +the wings of any bird that wants to soar and sing, or finds in itself +the strength of pinion for a migratory flight unusual to its kind. The +difference would be that _all_ need not be constrained to +employments for which _some_ are unfit. + +I have urged upon the sex self-subsistence in its two forms of +self-reliance and self-impulse, because I believe them to be the +needed means of the present juncture. + +I have urged on Woman independence of Man, not that I do not think the +sexes mutually needed by one another, but because in Woman this fact +has led to an excessive devotion, which has cooled love, degraded +marriage, and prevented either sex from being what it should be to +itself or the other. + +I wish Woman to live, _first_ for God's sake. Then she will not +make an imperfect man her god, and thus sink to idolatry. Then she +will not take what is not fit for her from a sense of weakness and +poverty. Then, if she finds what she needs in Man embodied, she will +know how to love, and be worthy of being loved. + +By being more a soul, she will not be less Woman, for nature is +perfected through spirit. + +Now there is no woman, only an overgrown child. + +That her hand may be given with dignity, she must be able to stand +alone. I wish to see men and women capable of such relations as are +depicted by Landor in his Pericles and Aspasia, where grace is the +natural garb of strength, and the affections are calm, because deep. +The softness is that of a firm tissue, as when + + "The gods approve + The depth, but not the tumult of the soul, + A fervent, not ungovernable love." + + +A profound thinker has said, "No married woman can represent the +female world, for she belongs to her husband. The idea of Woman must +be represented by a virgin." + +But that is the very fault of marriage, and of the present relation +between the sexes, that the woman does belong to the man, instead of +forming a whole with him. Were it otherwise, there would be no such +limitation to the thought. + +Woman, self-centred, would never be absorbed by any relation; it would +be only an experience to her as to man. It is a vulgar error that +love, _a_ love, to Woman is her whole existence; she also is born +for Truth and Love in their universal energy. Would she but assume her +inheritance, Mary would not be the only virgin mother. Not Manzoni +alone would celebrate in his wife the virgin mind with the maternal +wisdom and conjugal affections. The soul is ever young, ever virgin. + +And will not she soon appear?--the woman who shall vindicate their +birthright for all women; who shall teach them what to claim, and how +to use what they obtain? Shall not her name be for her era Victoria, +for her country and life Virginia? Yet predictions are rash; she +herself must teach us to give her the fitting name. + +An idea not unknown to ancient times has of late been revived, that, +in the metamorphoses of life, the soul assumes the form, first of Man, +then of Woman, and takes the chances, and reaps the benefits of either +lot. Why then, say some, lay such emphasis on the rights or needs of +Woman? What she wins not as Woman will come to her as Man. + +That makes no difference. It is not Woman, but the law of right, the +law of growth, that speaks in us, and demands the perfection of each +being in its kind--apple as apple, Woman as Woman. Without adopting +your theory, I know that I, a daughter, live through the life of Man; +but what concerns me now is, that my life be a beautiful, powerful, in +a word, a complete life in its kind. Had I but one more moment to live +I must wish the same. + +Suppose, at the end of your cycle, your great world-year, all will be +completed, whether I exert myself or not (and the supposition is +_false_,--but suppose it true), am I to be indifferent about it? +Not so! I must beat my own pulse true in the heart of the world; for +_that_ is virtue, excellence, health. + +Thou, Lord of Day! didst leave us to-night so calmly glorious, not +dismayed that cold winter is coming, not postponing thy beneficence to +the fruitful summer! Thou didst smile on thy day's work when it was +done, and adorn thy down-going as thy up-rising, for thou art loyal, +and it is thy nature to give life, if thou canst, and shine at all +events! + +I stand in the sunny noon of life. Objects no longer glitter in the +dews of morning, neither are yet softened by the shadows of evening. +Every spot is seen, every chasm revealed. Climbing the dusty hill, +some fair effigies that once stood for symbols of human destiny have +been broken; those I still have with me show defects in this broad +light. Yet enough is left, even by experience, to point distinctly to +the glories of that destiny; faint, but not to be mistaken streaks of +the future day. I can say with the bard, + + "Though many have suffered shipwreck, still beat noble hearts." + + +Always the soul says to us all, Cherish your best hopes as a faith, +and abide by them in action. Such shall be the effectual fervent means +to their fulfilment; + + For the Power to whom we bow + Has given its pledge that, if not now, + They of pure and steadfast mind, + By faith exalted, truth refined, + _Shall_ hear all music loud and clear, + Whose first notes they ventured here. + Then fear not thou to wind the horn, + Though elf and gnome thy courage scorn; + Ask for the castle's King and Queen; + Though rabble rout may rush between, + Beat thee senseless to the ground, + In the dark beset thee round; + Persist to ask, and it will come; + Seek not for rest in humbler home; + So shalt thou see, what few have seen, + The palace home of King and Queen. + + 15_th November_, 1844. + + + + + + +PART II. + + * * * * * + +MISCELLANIES. + + + + + +AGLAURON AND LAURIE. + +A DRIVE THROUGH THE COUNTRY NEAR BOSTON. + + +Aglauron and Laurie are two of the pleasantest men I know. Laurie +combines, with the external advantages of a beautiful person and easy +address, all the charm which quick perceptions and intelligent +sympathy give to the intercourse of daily life. He has an extensive, +though not a deep, knowledge of men and books,--his naturally fine +taste has been more refined by observation, both at home and abroad, +than is usual in this busy country; and, though not himself a thinker, +he follows with care and delight the flights of a rapid and inventive +mind. He is one of those rare persons who, without being servile or +vacillating, present on no side any barrier to the free action of +another mind. Yes, he is really an agreeable companion. I do not +remember ever to have been wearied or chilled in his company. + +Aglauron is a person of far greater depth and force than his friend +and cousin, but by no means as agreeable. His mind is ardent and +powerful, rather than brilliant and ready,--neither does he with ease +adapt himself to the course of another. But, when he is once kindled, +the blaze of light casts every object on which it falls into a bold +relief, and gives every scene a lustre unknown before. He is not, +perhaps, strictly original in his thoughts; but the severe truth of +his character, and the searching force of his attention, give the +charm of originality to what he says. Accordingly, another cannot, by +repetition, do it justice. I have never any doubt when I write down or +tell what Laurie says, but Aglauron must write for himself. + +Yet I almost always take notes of what has passed, for the amusement +of a distant friend, who is learning, amidst the western prairies, +patience, and an appreciation of the poor benefits of our imperfectly +civilized state. And those I took this day, seemed not unworthy of a +more general circulation. The sparkle of talk, the free breeze that +swelled its current, are always fled when you write it down; but there +is a gentle flow, and truth to the moment, rarely attained in more +elaborate compositions. + +My two friends called to ask if I would drive with them into the +country, and I gladly consented. It was a beautiful afternoon of the +last week in May. Nature seemed most desirous to make up for the time +she had lost, in an uncommonly cold and wet spring. The leaves were +bursting from their sheaths with such rapidity that the trees seemed +actually to greet you as you passed along. The vestal choirs of +snow-drops and violets were chanting their gentle hopes from every +bank, the orchards were white with blossoms, and the birds singing in +almost tumultuous glee. + +We drove for some time in silence, perhaps fearful to disturb the +universal song by less melodious accents, when Aglauron said: + +"How entirely are we new-born today! How are all the post cold skies +and hostile breezes vanished before this single breath of sweetness! +How consoling is the truth thus indicated!" + +_Laurie_. It is indeed the dearest fact of our consciousness, +that, in every moment of joy, pain is annihilated. There is no past, +and the future is only the sunlight streaming into the far valley. + +_Aglauron._ Yet it was the night that taught us to prize the day. + +_Laurie._ Even so. And I, you know, object to none of the "dark +masters." + +_Aglauron_. Nor I,--because I am sure that whatever is, is good; +and to find out the _why_ is all our employment here. But one +feels so at home in such a day as this! + +_Laurie._ As this, indeed! I never heard so many birds, nor saw +so many flowers. Do you not like these yellow flowers? + +_Aglauron._ They gleam upon the fields as if to express the +bridal kiss of the sun. He seems most happy, if not most wealthy, when +first he is wed to the earth. + +_Laurie._ I believe I have some such feeling about these golden +flowers. When I did not know what was the Asphodel, so celebrated by +the poets, I thought it was a golden flower; yet this yellow is so +ridiculed as vulgar. + +_Aglauron_. It is because our vulgar luxury depreciates objects +not fitted to adorn our dwellings. These yellow flowers will not bear +being token out of their places and brought home to the centre-table. +But, when enamelling the ground, the cowslip, the king-cup,--nay, the +marigold and dandelion even,--are resplendently beautiful. + +_Laurie_. They are the poor man's gold. See that dark, unpointed +house, with its lilac shrubbery. As it stands, undivided from the road +to which the green bank slopes down from the door, is not the effect +of that enamel of gold dandelions beautiful? + +_Aglauron_. It seems as if a stream of peace had flowed from the +door-step down to the very dust, in waves of light, to greet the +passer-by. That is, indeed, a quiet house. It looks as if somebody's +grandfather lived there still. + +_Laurie_. It is most refreshing to see the dark boards amid those +houses of staring white. Strange that, in the extreme heat of summer, +aching eyes don't teach the people better. + +_Aglauron_. We are still, in fact, uncivilized, for all our +knowledge of what is done "in foreign parts" cannot make us otherwise. +Civilization must be homogeneous,--must be a natural growth. This +glistening white paint was long preferred because the most expensive; +just as in the West, I understand, they paint houses red to make them +resemble the hideous red brick. And the eye, thus spoiled by +excitement, prefers red or white to the stone-color, or the browns, +which would harmonize with other hues. + +_Laurie_. I should think the eye could never be spoiled so far as +to like these white palings. These bars of glare amid the foliage are +unbearable. + +_Myself_. What color should they be? + +_Laurie_. An invisible green, as in all civilized parts of the +globe. Then your eye would rest on the shrubbery undisturbed. + +_Myself_. Your vaunted Italy has its palaces of white stucco and +buildings of brick. + +_Laurie_. Ay,--but the stucco is by the atmosphere soon mellowed +into cream-color, the brick into rich brown. + +_Myself_. I have heard a connoisseur admire our own red brick in +the afternoon sun, above all other colors. + +_Laurie_. There are some who delight too much in the stimulus of +color to be judges of harmony of coloring. It is so, often, with the +Italians. No color is too keen for the eye of the Neapolitan. He +thinks, with little Riding-hood, there is no color like red. I have +seen one of the most beautiful new palaces paved with tiles of a +brilliant red. But this, too, is barbarism. + +_Myself_. You are pleased to call it so, because you make the +English your arbiters in point of taste; but I do not think they, on +your own principle, are our proper models. With their ever-weeping +skies, and seven-piled velvet of verdure, they are no rule for us, +whose eyes are accustomed to the keen blue and brilliant clouds of our +own realm, and who see the earth wholly green scarce two months in the +year. No white is more glistening than our January snows; no house +here hurts my eye more than the fields of white-weed will, a fortnight +hence. + +_Laurie._ True refinement of taste would bid the eye seek repose +the more. But, even admitting what you say, there is no harmony. The +architecture is borrowed from England; why not the rest? + +_Aglauron._ But, my friend, surely these piazzas and pipe-stem +pillars are all American. + +_Laurie._ But the cottage to which they belong is English. The +inhabitants, suffocating in small rooms, and beneath sloping roofs, +because the house is too low to admit any circulation of air, are in +need, we must admit, of the piazza, for elsewhere they must suffer all +the torments of Mons. Chaubert in his first experience of the oven. +But I do not assail the piazzas, at any rate; they are most desirable, +in these hot summers of ours, were they but in proportion with the +house, and their pillars with one another. But I do object to houses +which are desirable neither as summer nor winter residences here. The +shingle palaces, celebrated by Irving's wit, were far more +appropriate, for they, at least, gave free course to the winds of +heaven, when the thermometer stood at ninety-five degrees in the +shade. + +_Aglauron._ Pity that American wit nipped in the bud those early +attempts at an American architecture. Here in the East, alas! the case +is become hopeless. But in the West the log-cabin still promises a +proper basis. + +_Laurie._ You laugh at me. But so it is. I am not so silly as to +insist upon American architecture, American art, in the 4th of July +style, merely for the gratification of national vanity. But a +building, to be beautiful, should harmonize exactly with the uses to +which it is to be put, and be an index to the climate and habits of +the people. There is no objection to borrowing good thoughts from +other nations, if we adopt the new style because we find it will serve +our convenience, and not merely because it looks pretty outside. + +_Aglauron._ I agree with you that here, as well as in manners and +in literature, there is too ready access to the old stock, and, though +I said it in jest, my hope is, in truth, the log-cabin. This the +settler will enlarge, as his riches and his family increase; he will +beautify as his character refines, and as his eye becomes accustomed +to observe objects around him for their loveliness as well as for +their utility. He will borrow from Nature the forms and coloring most +in harmony with the scene in which his dwelling is placed. Might +growth here be but slow enough! Might not a greediness for gain and +show cheat men of all the real advantages of their experience! + +(Here a carriage passed.) + +_Laurie._ Who is that beautiful lady to whom you bowed? + +_Aglauron._ Beautiful do you think her? At this distance, and +with the freshness which the open air gives to her complexion, she +certainly does look so, and was so still, five years ago, when I knew +her abroad. It is Mrs. V----. + +_Laurie._ I remember with what interest you mentioned her in your +letters. And you promised to tell me her true story. + +_Aglauron._ I was much interested, then, both in her and her +story, But, last winter, when I met her at the South, she had altered, +and seemed so much less attractive than before, that the bright colors +of the picture are well-nigh effaced. + +_Laurie._ The pleasure of telling the story will revive them +again. Let us fasten our horses and go into this little wood. There is +a seat near the lake which is pretty enough to tell a story upon. + +_Aglauron._ In all the idyls I ever read, they were told in +caves, or beside a trickling fountain. + +_Laurie._ That was in the last century. We will innovate. Let us +begin that American originality we were talking about, and make the +bank of a lake answer our purpose. + + * * * * * + +We dismounted accordingly, but, on reaching the spot, Aglauron at +first insisted on lying on the grass, and gazing up at the clouds in a +most uncitizen-like fashion, and it was some time before we could get +the promised story. At last,-- + + * * * * * + +I first saw Mrs. V---- at the opera in Vienna. Abroad, I scarcely cared +for anything in comparison with music. In many respects the Old World +disappointed my hopes; Society was, in essentials, no better, nor +worse, than at home, and I too easily saw through the varnish of +conventional refinement. Lions, seen near, were scarcely more +interesting than tamer cattle, and much more annoying in their gambols +and caprices. Parks and ornamental grounds pleased me less than the +native forests and wide-rolling rivers of my own land. But in the +Arts, and most of all in Music, I found all my wishes more than +realized. I found the soul of man uttering itself with the swiftness, +the freedom and the beauty, for which I had always pined. I easily +conceived how foreigners, once acquainted with this diverse language, +pass their lives without a wish for pleasure or employment beyond +hearing the great works of the masters. It seemed to me that here was +wealth to feed the thoughts for ages. This lady fixed my attention by +the rapturous devotion with which she listened. I saw that she too had +here found her proper home. Every shade of thought and feeling +expressed in the music was mirrored in her beautiful countenance. Her +rapture of attention, during some passages, was enough of itself to +make you hold your breath; and a sudden stroke of genius lit her face +into a very heaven with its lightning. It seemed to me that in her I +should find one who would truly sympathize with me, one who looked on +the art not as a connoisseur, but a votary. + +I took the speediest opportunity of being introduced to her at her own +house by a common friend. + +But what a difference! At home I scarcely knew her. Still she was +beautiful; but the sweetness, the elevated expression, which the +satisfaction of an hour had given her, were entirely fled. Her eye was +restless, her cheek pale and thin, her whole expression perturbed and +sorrowful. Every gesture spoke the sickliness of a spirit long an +outcast from its natural home, bereft of happiness, and hopeless of +good. + +I perceived, at first sight of her every-day face, that it was not +unknown to me. Three or four years earlier, staying in the +country-house of one of her friends, I had seen her picture. The house +was very dull,--as dull as placid content with the mere material +enjoyments of life, and an inert gentleness of nature, could make its +inhabitants. They were people to be loved, but loved without a +thought. Their wings had never grown, nor their eyes coveted a wider +prospect than could be seen from the parent nest. The friendly +visitant could not discompose them by a remark indicating any +expansion of mind or life. Much as I enjoyed the beauty of the country +around, when out in the free air, my hours within the house would have +been dull enough but for the contemplation of this picture. While the +round of common-place songs was going on, and the whist-players were +at their work, I used to sit and wonder how this being, so sovereign +in the fire of her nature, so proud in her untamed loveliness, could +ever have come of their blood. Her eye, from the canvas, even, seemed +to annihilate all things low or little, and able to command all +creation in search of the object of its desires. She had not found it, +though; I felt this on seeing her now. She, the queenly woman, the +Boadicea of a forlorn hope, as she seemed born to be, the only woman +whose face, to my eye, had ever given promise of a prodigality of +nature sufficient for the entertainment of a poet's soul, was--I saw +it at a glance--a captive in her life, and a beggar in her affections. + +_Laurie._ A dangerous object to the traveller's eye, methinks! + +_Aglauron._ Not to mine! The picture had been so; but, seeing her +now, I felt that the glorious promise of her youthful prime had +failed. She had missed her course; and the beauty, whose charm to the +imagination had been that it seemed invincible, was now subdued and +mixed with earth. + +_Laurie._ I can never comprehend the cruelty in your way of +viewing human beings, Aglauron. To err, to suffer, is their lot; all +who have feeling and energy of character must share it; and I could +not endure a woman who at six-and-twenty bore no trace of the past. + +_Aglauron._ Such women and such men are the companions of +everyday life. But the angels of our thoughts are those moulds of pure +beauty which must break with a fall. The common air must not touch +them, for they make their own atmosphere. I admit that such are not +for the tenderness of daily life; their influence must be high, +distant, starlike, to be pure. + +Such was this woman to me before I knew her; one whose splendid beauty +drew on my thoughts to their future home. In knowing her, I lost the +happiness I had enjoyed in knowing what she should have been. At first +the disappointment was severe, but I have learnt to pardon her, as +others who get mutilated or worn in life, and show the royal impress +only in their virgin courage. But this subject would detain me too +long. Let me rather tell you of Mrs. V----'s sad history. + +A friend of mine has said that beautiful persons seem rarely born to +their proper family, but amidst persons so rough and uncongenial that +_their_ presence commands like that of a reproving angel, or +pains like that of some poor prince changed at nurse, and bound for +life to the society of churls. + +So it was with Emily. Her father was sordid, her mother weak; persons +of great wealth and greater selfishness. She was the youngest by many +years, and left alone in her father's house. Notwithstanding the want +of intelligent sympathy while she was growing up, and the want of all +intelligent culture, she was not an unhappy child. The unbounded and +foolish indulgence with which she was treated did not have an +obviously bad effect upon her then; it did not make her selfish, +sensual, or vain. Her character was too powerful to dwell upon such +boons as those nearest her could bestow. She negligently received them +all as her due. It was later that the pernicious effects of the +absence of all discipline showed themselves; but in early years she +was happy in her lavish feelings, and in beautiful nature, on which +she could pour them, and in her own pursuits. Music was her passion; +in it she found food, and an answer for feelings destined to become so +fatal to her peace, but which then glowed so sweetly in her youthful +form as to enchant the most ordinary observer. + +When she was not more than fifteen, and expanding like a flower in +each sunny day, it was her misfortune that her first husband saw and +loved her. Emily, though pleased by his handsome person and gay +manners, never bestowed a serious thought on him. If she had, it would +have been the first ever disengaged from her life of pleasurable +sensation. But when he did plead his cause with all the ardor of +youth, and the flourishes which have been by usage set apart for such +occasions, she listened with delight; for all his talk of boundless +love, undying faith, etc., seemed her native tongue. It was like the +most glowing sunset sky. It swelled upon the ear like music. It was +the only way she ever wished to be addressed, and she now saw plainly +why all talk of everyday people had fallen unheeded on her ear. She +could have listened all day. But when, emboldened by the beaming eye +and ready smile with which she heard, he pressed his suit more +seriously, and talked of marriage, she drew back astonished. Marry +yet?--impossible! She had never thought of it; and as she thought now +of marriages, such as she had seen them, there was nothing in marriage +to attract. But L---- was not so easily repelled; he made her every +promise of pleasure, as one would to a child. He would take her away +to journey through scenes more beautiful than she had ever dreamed of; +he would take her to a city where, in the fairest home, she should +hear the finest music, and he himself, in every scene, would be her +devoted slave, too happy if for every now pleasure he received one of +those smiles which had become his life. + +He saw her yielding, and hastened to secure her. Her father was +delighted, as fathers are strangely wont to be, that he was likely to +be deprived of his child, his pet, his pride. The mother was threefold +delighted that she would have a daughter married so _young_,--at +least three years younger than any of her elder sisters were married. +Both lent their influence; and Emily, accustomed to rely on them +against all peril, and annoyance, till she scarcely knew there was +pain or evil in the world, gave her consent, as she would have given +it to a pleasure-party for a day or a week. + +The marriage was hurried on; L---- intent on gaining his object, as +men of strong will and no sentiment are wont to be, the parents +thinking of the eclat of the match. Emily was amused by the +preparations for the festivity, and full of excitement about the new +chapter which was to be opened in her life. Yet so little idea had she +of the true business of life, and the importance of its ties, that +perhaps there was no figure in the future that occupied her less than +that of her bridegroom, a handsome man, with a sweet voice, her +captive, her adorer. She neither thought nor saw further, lulled by +the pictures of bliss and adventure which were floating before her +fancy, the more enchanting because so vague. + +It was at this time that the picture that so charmed me was taken. The +exquisite rose had not yet opened its leaves so as to show its heart; +but its fragrance and blushful pride were there in perfection. + +Poor Emily! She had the promised journeys, the splendid home. Amid the +former her mind, opened by new scenes, already learned that something +she seemed to possess was wanting in the too constant companion of her +days. In the splendid home she received not only musicians, but other +visitants, who taught her strange things. + +Four little months after her leaving home, her parents were astonished +by receiving a letter in which she told them they had parted with her +too soon; that she was not happy with Mr. L----, as he had promised +she should be, and that she wished to have her marriage broken. She +urged her father to make haste about it, as she had particular reasons +for impatience. You may easily conceive of the astonishment of the +good folks at home. Her mother wondered and cried. Her father +immediately ordered his horses, and went to her. + +He was received with rapturous delight, and almost at the first moment +thanked for his speedy compliance with her request. But when she found +that he opposed her desire of having her marriage broken, and when she +urged him with vehemence and those marks of caressing fondness she had +been used to find all-powerful, and he told her at last it could not +be done, she gave way to a paroxysm of passion; she declared that she +could not and would not live with Mr. L----; that, so soon as she saw +anything of the world, she saw many men that she infinitely preferred +to him; and that, since her father and mother, instead of guarding +her, so mere a child as she was, so entirely inexperienced, against a +hasty choice, had persuaded and urged her to it, it was their duty to +break the match when they found it did not make her happy. + +"My child, you are entirely unreasonable." + +"It is not a time to be patient; and I was too yielding before. I am +not seventeen. Is the happiness of my whole life to be sacrificed?" + +"Emily, you terrify me! Do you love anybody else?" + +"Not yet; but I am sure shall find some one to love, now I know what +it is. I have seen already many whom I prefer to Mr. L----." + +"Is he not kind to you?" + +"Kind! yes; but he is perfectly uninteresting. I hate to be with him. +I do not wish his kindness, nor to remain in his house." + +In vain her father argued; she insisted that she could never be happy +as she was; that it was impossible the law could be so cruel as to +bind her to a vow she had taken when so mere a child; that she would +go home with her father now, and they would see what could be done. +She added that she had already told her husband her resolution. + +"And how did he bear it?" + +"He was very angry; but it is better for him to be angry once than +unhappy always, as I should certainly make him did I remain here." + +After long and fruitless attempts to reason her into a different state +of mind, the father went in search of the husband. He found him +irritated and mortified. He loved his wife, in his way, for her +personal beauty. He was very proud of her; he was piqued to the last +degree by her frankness. He could not but acknowledge the truth of +what she said, that she had been persuaded into the match when but a +child; for she seemed a very infant now, in wilfulness and ignorance +of the world. But I believe neither he nor her father had one +compunctious misgiving as to their having profaned the holiness of +marriage by such an union. Their minds had never been opened to the +true meaning of life, and, though they thought themselves so much +wiser, they were in truth much less so than the poor, passionate +Emily,--for her heart, at least, spoke clearly, if her mind lay in +darkness. + +They could do nothing with her, and her father was at length compelled +to take her home, hoping that her mother might be able to induce her +to see things in a different light. But father, mother, uncles, +brothers, all reasoned with her in vain. Totally unused to +disappointment, she could not for a long time believe that she was +forever bound by a bond that sat uneasily on her untamed spirit. When +at last convinced of the truth, her despair was terrible. + +"Am I his? his forever? Must I never then love? Never marry one whom I +could really love? Mother! it is too cruel. I cannot, will not believe +it. You always wished me to belong to him. You do not now wish to aid +me, or you are afraid! O, you would not be so, could you but know what +I feel!" + +At last convinced, she then declared that if she could not be legally +separated from L----, but must consent to bear his name, and never +give herself to another, she would at least live with him no more. She +would not again leave her father's house. Here she was deaf to all +argument, and only force could have driven her away. Her indifference +to L---- had become hatred, in the course of these thoughts and +conversations. She regarded herself as his victim, and him as her +betrayer, since, she said, he was old enough to know the importance of +the step to which he led her. Her mind, naturally noble, though now in +this wild state, refused to admit his love as an excuse. "Had he loved +me," she said, "he would have wished to teach me to love him, before +securing me as his property. He is as selfish as he is dull and +uninteresting. No! I will drag on my miserable years here alone, but I +will not pretend to love him nor gratify him by the sight of his +slave!" + +A year and more passed, and found the unhappy Emily inflexible. Her +husband at last sought employment abroad, to hide his mortification. + +After his departure, Emily relaxed once from the severe coldness she +had shown since her return home. She had passed her time there with +her music, in reading poetry, in solitary walks. But as the person who +had been, however unintentionally, the means of making her so +miserable, was further removed from her, she showed willingness to +mingle again with the family, and see one or two young friends. + +One of these, Almeria, effected what all the armament of praying and +threatening friends had been unable to do. She devoted herself to +Emily. She shared her employments and her walks; she sympathized with +all her feelings, even the morbid ones which she saw to be sincerity, +tenderness and delicacy gone astray,--perverted and soured by the +foolish indulgence of her education, and the severity of her destiny +made known suddenly to a mind quite unprepared. At last, having won +the confidence and esteem of Emily, by the wise and gentle cheek her +justice and clear perceptions gave to all extravagance, Almeria +ventured on representing to Emily her conduct as the world saw it. + +To this she found her quite insensible. "What is the world to me?" she +said. "I am forbidden to seek there all it can offer of value to +Woman--sympathy and a home." + +"It is full of beauty still," said Almeria, looking out into the +golden and perfumed glories of a June day. + +"Not to the prisoner and the slave," said Emily. + +"All are such, whom God hath not made free;" and Almeria gently +ventured to explain the hopes of larger span which enable the soul +that can soar upon their wings to disregard the limitations of seventy +years. + +Emily listened with profound attention. The words were familiar to +her, but the tone was not; it was that which rises from the depths of +a purified spirit,--purified by pain, softened into peace. + +"Have you made any use of these thoughts in your life, Almeria?" + +The lovely preacher hesitated not to reveal a tale before unknown +except to her own heart, of woe, renunciation, and repeated blows from +a hostile fate. + +Emily heard it in silence, but she understood. The great illusions of +youth vanished. She did not suffer alone; her lot was not peculiar. +Another, perhaps many, were forbidden the bliss of sympathy and a +congenial environment. And what had Almeria done? Revenged herself? +Tormented all around her? Clung with wild passion to a selfish +resolve? Not at all. She had made the best of a wreck of life, and +deserved a blessing on a new voyage. She had sought consolation in +disinterested tenderness for her fellow-sufferers, and she deserved to +cease to suffer. + +The lesson was taken home, and gradually leavened the whole being of +this spoiled but naturally noble child. + +A few weeks afterwards, she asked her father when Mr. L---- was +expected to return. + +"In about three months," he replied, much surprised. + +"I should like to have you write to him for me." + +"What now absurdity?" said the father, who, long mortified and +harassed, had ceased to be a fond father to his once adored Emily. + +"Say that my views are unchanged as to his soliciting a marriage with +me when too childish to know my own mind on that or any other subject; +but I have now seen enough of the world to know that he meant no ill, +if no good, and was no more heedless in this great matter than many +others are. He is not born to know what one constituted like me must +feel, in a home where I found no rest for my heart. I have now read, +seen and thought, what has made me a woman. I can be what you call +reasonable, though not perhaps in your way. I see that my misfortune +is irreparable. I heed not the world's opinion, and would, for myself, +rather remain here, and keep up no semblance of a connection which my +matured mind disclaims. But that scandalizes you and my mother, and +makes your house a scene of pain and mortification in your old age. I +know you, too, did not neglect the charge of me, in your own eyes. I +owe you gratitude for your affectionate intentions at least. + +"L---- too is as miserable as mortification can make one like him. +Write, and ask him if he wishes my presence in his house on my own +terms. He must not expect from me the affection, or marks of +affection, of a wife. I should never have been his wife had I waited +till I understood life or myself. But I will be his attentive and +friendly companion, the mistress of his house, if he pleases. To the +world it will seem enough,--he will be more comfortable there,--and +what he wished of me was, in a great measure, to show me to the world. +I saw that, as soon as we were in it, I could not give him happiness +if I would, for we have not a thought nor employment in common. But if +we can agree on the way, we may live together without any one being +very miserable except myself, and I have made up my mind." + +The astonishment of the father may be conceived, and his cavils; +L----'s also. + +To cut the story short, it was settled in Emily's way, for she was one +of the sultana kind, dread and dangerous. L---- hardly wished her to +love him now, for he half hated her for all she had done; yet he was +glad to have her back, as she had judged, for the sake of appearances. +All was smoothed over by a plausible story. People, indeed, knew the +truth as to the fair one's outrageous conduct perfectly, but Mr. L---- +was rich, his wife beautiful, and gave good parties; so society, as +such, bowed and smiled, while individuals scandalized the pair. + +They had been living on this footing for several years, when I saw +Emily at the opera. She was a much altered being. Debarred of +happiness in her affections, she had turned for solace to the +intellectual life, and her naturally powerful and brilliant mind had +matured into a splendor which had never been dreamed of by those who +had seen her amid the freaks end day-dreams of her early youth. + +Yet, as I said before, she was not captivating to me, as her picture +had been. She was, in a different way, as beautiful in feature and +coloring as in her spring-time. Her beauty, all moulded and mellowed +by feeling, was far more eloquent; but it had none of the virgin +magnificence, the untouched tropical luxuriance, which had fired my +fancy. The false position in which she lived had shaded her expression +with a painful restlessness; and her eye proclaimed that the conflicts +of her mind had strengthened, had deepened, but had not yet hallowed, +her character. + +She was, however, interesting, deeply so; one of those rare beings who +fill your eye in every mood. Her passion for music, and the great +excellence she had attained as a performer, drew us together. I was +her daily visitor; but, if my admiration ever softened into +tenderness, it was the tenderness of pity for her unsatisfied heart, +and cold, false life. + +But there was one who saw with very different eyes. V---- had been +intimate with Emily some time before my arrival, and every day saw him +more deeply enamored. + +_Laurie._ And pray where was the husband all this time? + +_Aglauron._ L---- had sought consolation in ambition. He was a +man of much practical dexterity, but of little thought, and less +heart. He had at first been jealous of Emily for his honor's +sake,--not for any reality,--for she treated him with great attention +as to the comforts of daily life; but otherwise, with polite, steady +coldness. Finding that she received the court, which many were +disposed to pay her, with grace and affability, but at heart with +imperial indifference, he ceased to disturb himself; for, as she +rightly thought, he was incapable of understanding her. A coquette he +could have interpreted; but a romantic character like hers, born for a +grand passion, or no love at all, he could not. Nor did he see that +V---- was likely to be more to her than any of her admirers. + +_Laurie._ I am afraid I should have shamed his obtuseness. V---- +has nothing to recommend him that I know of, except his beauty, and +that is the beauty of a _petit-maitre_--effeminate, without +character, and very unlikely, I should judge, to attract such a woman +as you give me the idea of. + +_Aglauron._ You speak like a man, Laurie; but have you never +heard tales of youthful minstrels and pages being preferred by +princesses, in the land of chivalry, to stalwart knights, who were +riding all over the land, doing their devoirs maugre scars and +starvation? And why? One want of a woman's heart is to admire and be +protected; but another is to be understood in all her delicate +feelings, and have an object who shall know how to receive all the +marks of her inventive and bounteous affection. V---- is such an one; +a being of infinite grace and tenderness, and an equal capacity for +prizing the same in another. + +Effeminate, say you? Lovely, rather, and lovable. He was not, indeed, +made to grow old; but I never saw a fairer spring-time than shone in +his eye when life, and thought, and love, opened on him all together. + +He was to Emily like the soft breathing of a flute in some solitary +valley; indeed, the delicacy of his nature made a solitude around him +in the world. So delicate was he, and Emily for a long time so +unconscious, that nobody except myself divined how strong was the +attraction which, as it drew them nearer together, invested both with +a lustre and a sweetness which charmed all around them. + +But I see the sun is declining, and warns me to cut short a tale which +would keep us here till dawn if I were to detail it as I should like +to do in my own memories. The progress of this affair interested me +deeply; for, like all persons whose perceptions are more lively than +their hopes, I delight to live from day to day in the more ardent +experiments of others. I looked on with curiosity, with sympathy, with +fear. How could it end? What would become of them, unhappy lovers? One +too noble, the other too delicate, ever to find happiness in an +unsanctioned tie. + +I had, however, no right to interfere, and did not, even by a look, +until one evening, when the occasion was forced upon me. + +There was a summer fete given at L----'s. I had mingled for a while +with the guests in the brilliant apartments; but the heat oppressed, +the conversation failed to interest me. An open window tempted me to +the garden, whose flowers and tufted lawns lay bathed in moonlight. I +went out alone; but the music of a superb band followed my steps, and +gave impulse to my thoughts. A dreaming state, pensive though not +absolutely sorrowful, came upon me,--one of those gentle moods when +thoughts flow through the mind amber-clear and soft, noiseless, +because unimpeded. I sat down in an arbor to enjoy it, and probably +stayed much longer than I could have imagined; for when I reentered +the large saloon it was deserted. The lights, however, were not +extinguished, and, hearing voices in the inner room, I supposed some +guests still remained; and, as I had not spoken with Emily that +evening, I ventured in to bid her good-night. I started, repentant, on +finding her alone with V----, and in a situation that announced their +feelings to be no longer concealed from each other. She, leaning back +on the sofa, was weeping bitterly, while V----, seated at her feet, +holding her hands within his own, was pouring forth his passionate +words with a fervency which prevented him from perceiving my entrance. +But Emily perceived me at once, and starting up, motioned me not to +go, as I had intended. I obeyed, and sat down. A pause ensued, awkward +for me and for V----, who sat with his eyes cast down and blushing +like a young girl detected in a burst of feeling long kept secret. +Emily sat buried in thought, the tears yet undried upon her cheeks. +She was pale, but nobly beautiful, as I had never yet seen her. + +After a few moments I broke the silence, and attempted to tell why I +had returned so late. She interrupted me: "No matter, Aglauron, how it +happened; whatever the chance, it promises to give both V---- and +myself, what we greatly need, a calm friend and adviser. You are the +only person among these crowds of men whom I could consult; for I have +read friendship in your eye, and I know you have truth and honor. +V---- thinks of you as I do, and he too is, or should be, glad to have +some counsellor beside his own wishes." + +V---- did not raise his eyes; neither did he contradict her. After a +moment he said, "I believe Aglauron to be as free from prejudice as +any man, and most true and honorable; yet who can judge in this matter +but ourselves?" + +"No one shall judge," said Emily; "but I want counsel. God help me! I +feel there is a right and wrong; but how can my mind, which has never +been trained to discern between them, be confident of its power at +this important moment? Aglauron, what remains to me of happiness,--if +anything do remain; perhaps the hope of heaven, if, indeed, there be a +heaven,--is at stake! Father and brother have failed their trust. I +have no friend able to understand, wise enough to counsel me. The only +one whose words ever came true to my thoughts, and of whom you have +often reminded me, is distant. Will you, this hour, take her place?" + +"To the best of my ability," I replied without hesitation, struck by +the dignity of her manner. + +"You know," she said, "all my past history; all do so here, though +they do not talk loudly of it. You and all others have probably blamed +me. You know not, you cannot guess, the anguish, the struggles of my +childish mind when it first opened to the meaning of those words, +Love, Marriage, Life. When I was bound to Mr. L----, by a vow which +from my heedless lips was mockery of all thought, all holiness, I had +never known a duty, I had never felt the pressure of a tie. Life had +been, so far, a sweet, voluptuous dream, and I thought of this +seemingly so kind and amiable person as a new and devoted ministrant +to me of its pleasures. But I was scarcely in his power when I awoke. +I perceived the unfitness of the tie; its closeness revolted me. + +"I had no timidity; I had always been accustomed to indulge my +feelings, and I displayed them now. L----, irritated, averted his +mastery; this drove me wild; I soon hated him, and despised too his +insensibility to all which I thought most beautiful. From all his +faults, and the imperfection of our relation, grew up in my mind the +knowledge of what the true might be to me. It is astonishing how the +thought grow upon me day by day. I had not been married more than +three months before I knew what it would be to love, and I longed to +be free to do so. I had never known what it was to be resisted, and +the thought never came to me that I could now, and for all my life, be +bound by so early a mistake. I thought only of expressing my resolve +to be free. + +"How I was repulsed, how disappointed, you know, or could divine if +you did not know; for all but me have been trained to bear the burden +from their youth up, and accustomed to have the individual will +fettered for the advantage of society. For the same reason, you cannot +guess the silent fury that filled my mind when I at last found that I +had struggled in vain, and that I must remain in the bondage that I +had ignorantly put on. + +"My affections were totally alienated from my family, for I felt they +had known what I had not, and had neither put me on my guard, nor +warned me against precipitation whose consequences must be fatal. I +saw, indeed, that they did not look on life as I did, and could be +content without being happy; but this observation was far from making +me love them more. I felt alone, bitterly, contemptuously alone. I +hated men who had made the laws that bound me. I did not believe in +God; for why had He permitted the dart to enter so unprepared a +breast? I determined never to submit, though I disdained to struggle, +since struggle was in vain. In passive, lonely wretchedness I would +pass my days. I would not feign what I did not feel, nor take the hand +which had poisoned for me the cup of life before I had sipped the +first drops. + +"A friend--the only one I have ever known--taught me other thoughts. +She taught me that others, perhaps all others, were victims, as much +as myself. She taught me that if all the wrecked submitted to be +drowned, the world would be a desert. She taught me to pity others, +even those I myself was paining; for she showed me that they had +sinned in ignorance, and that I had no right to make them suffer so +long as I myself did, merely because they were the authors of my +suffering. + +"She showed me, by her own pure example, what were Duty and +Benevolence and Employment to the soul, even when baffled and sickened +in its dearest wishes. That example was not wholly lost: I freed my +parents, at least, from their pain, and, without falsehood, became +less cruel and more calm. + +"Yet the kindness, the calmness, have never gone deep. I have been +forced to live out of myself; and life, busy or idle, is still most +bitter to the homeless heart. I cannot be like Almeria; I am more +ardent; and, Aglauron, you see now I might be happy," + +She looked towards V----. I followed her eye, and was well-nigh melted +too by the beauty of his gaze. + +"The question in my mind is," she resumed, "have I not a right to fly? +To leave this vacant life, and a tie which, but for worldly +circumstances, presses as heavily on L---- as on myself. I shall +mortify him; but that is a trifle compared with actual misery. I shall +grieve my parents; but, were they truly such, would they not grieve +still more that I must reject the life of mutual love? I have already +sacrificed enough; shall I sacrifice the happiness of one I could +really bless for those who do not know one native heart-beat of my +life?" + +V---- kissed her hand. + +"And yet," said she, sighing, "it does not always look so. We must, in +that case, leave the world; it will not tolerate us. Can I make V---- +happy in solitude? And what would Almeria think? Often it seems that +she would feel that now I do love, and could make a green spot in the +desert of life over which she mourned, she would rejoice to have me do +so. Then, again, something whispers she might have objections to make; +and I wish--O, I long to know them! For I feel that this is the great +crisis of my life, and that if I do not act wisely, now that I have +thought and felt, it will be unpardonable. In my first error I was +ignorant what I wished, but now I know, and ought not to be weak or +deluded." + +I said, "Have you no religious scruples? Do you never think of your +vow as sacred?" + +"Never!" she replied, with flashing eyes. "Shall the woman be bound by +the folly of the child? No!--have never once considered myself as +L----'s wife. If I have lived in his house, it was to make the best of +what was left, as Almeria advised. But what I feel he knows perfectly. +I have never deceived him. But O! I hazard all! all! and should I be +again ignorant, again deceived"---- + +V---- here poured forth all that can be imagined. + +I rose: "Emily, this case seems to me so extraordinary that I must +have time to think. You shall hear from me. I shall certainly give you +my best advice, and I trust you will not over-value it." + +"I am sure," she said, "it will be of use to me, and will enable me to +decide what I shall do. V----, now go away with Aglauron; it is too +late for you to stay here." + +I do not know if I have made obvious, in this account, what struck me +most in the interview,--a certain savage force in the character of +this beautiful woman, quite independent of the reasoning power. I saw +that, as she could give no account of the past, except that she saw it +was fit, or saw it was not, so she must be dealt with now by a strong +instalment made by another from his own point of view, which she would +accept or not, as suited her. + +There are some such characters, which, like plants, stretch upwards to +the light; they accept what nourishes, they reject what injures them. +They die if wounded,--blossom if fortunate; but never learn to analyze +all this, or find its reasons; but, if they tell their story, it is in +Emily's way;--"it was so;" "I found it so." + +I talked with V----, and found him, as I expected, not the peer of her +he loved, except in love. His passion was at its height. Better +acquainted with the world than Emily,--not because he had seen it +more, but because he had the elements of the citizen in him,--he had +been at first equally emboldened and surprised by the ease with which +he won her to listen to his suit. But he was soon still more surprised +to find that she would only listen. She had no regard for her position +in society as a married woman,--none for her vow. She frankly +confessed her love, so far as it went, but doubted as to whether it +was _her whole love_, and doubted still more her right to leave +L----, since she had returned to him, and could not break the bond so +entirely as to give them firm foot-hold in the world. + +"I may make you unhappy," she said, "and then be unhappy myself; these +laws, this society, are so strange, I can make nothing of them. In +music I am at home. Why is not all life music? We instantly know when +we are going wrong there. Convince me it is for the best, and I will +go with you at once. But now it seems wrong, unwise, scarcely better +than to stay as we are. We must go secretly, must live obscurely in a +corner. That I cannot bear,--all is wrong yet. Why am I not at liberty +to declare unblushingly to all men that I will leave the man whom I +_do not_ love, and go with him I _do_ love? That is the only +way that would suit me,--I cannot see clearly to take any other +course." + +I found V---- had no scruples of conscience, any more than herself. He +was wholly absorbed in his passion, and his only wish was to persuade +her to elope, that a divorce might follow, and she be all his own. + +I took my part. I wrote next day to Emily. I told her that my view +must differ from hers in this: that I had, from early impressions, a +feeling of the sanctity of the marriage vow. It was not to me a +measure intended merely to insure the happiness of two individuals, +but a solemn obligation, which, whether it led to happiness or not, +was a means of bringing home to the mind the great idea of Duty, the +understanding of which, and not happiness, seemed to be the end of +life. Life looked not clear to me otherwise. I entreated her to +separate herself from V---- for a year, before doing anything +decisive; she could then look at the subject from other points of +view, and see the bearing on mankind as well as on herself alone. If +she still found that happiness and V---- were her chief objects, she +might be more sure of herself after such a trial. I was careful not to +add one word of persuasion or exhortation, except that I recommended +her to the enlightening love of the Father of our spirits. + +_Laurie_. With or without persuasion, your advice had small +chance, I fear, of being followed. + +_Aglauron_. You err. Next day V---- departed. Emily, with a calm +brow and earnest eyes, devoted herself to thought, and such reading as +I suggested. + +_Laurie_. And the result? + +_Aglauron_. I grieve not to be able to point my tale with the +expected moral, though perhaps the true denouement may lead to one as +valuable. L---- died within the year, and she married V----. + +_Laurie_. And the result? + +_Aglauron_. Is for the present utter disappointment in him. She +was infinitely blest, for a time, in his devotion, but presently her +strong nature found him too much hers, and too little his own. He +satisfied her as little as L---- had done, though always lovely and +dear. She saw with keen anguish, though this time without bitterness, +that we are never wise enough to be sure any measure will fulfil our +expectations. + +But--I know not how it is--Emily does not yet command the changes of +destiny which she feels so keenly and faces so boldly. Born to be +happy only in the clear light of religious thought, she still seeks +happiness elsewhere. She is now a mother, and all other thoughts are +merged in that. But she will not long be permitted to abide there. One +more pang, and I look to see her find her central point, from which +all the paths she has taken lead. She loves truth so ardently, though +as yet only in detail, that she will yet know truth as a whole. She +will see that she does not live for Emily, or for V----, or for her +child, but as one link in a divine purpose. Her large nature must at +last serve knowingly. + +_Myself_. I cannot understand you, Aglauron; I do not guess the +scope of your story, nor sympathize with your feeling about this lady. +She is a strange, and, I think, very unattractive person. I think her +beauty must have fascinated you. Her character seems very +inconsistent. + +_Aglauron_. Because I have drawn from life. + +_Myself_. But, surely, there should be a harmony somewhere. + +_Aglauron_. Could we but get the right point of view. + +_Laurie_. And where is that? + +He pointed to the sun, just sinking behind the pine grove. We mounted +and rode home without a word more. But I do not understand Aglauron +yet, nor what he expects from this Emily. Yet her character, though +almost featureless at first, gains distinctness as I think of it more. +Perhaps in this life I shall find its key. + + + + +THE WRONGS OF AMERICAN WOMEN. THE DUTY OF AMERICAN WOMEN. + + +The same day brought us a copy of Mr. Burdett's little book,--in which +the sufferings and difficulties that beset the large class of women +who must earn their subsistence in a city like New York, are +delineated with so much simplicity, feeling, and exact adherence to +the facts,--and a printed circular, containing proposals for immediate +practical adoption of the plan wore fully described in a book +published some weeks since, under the title, "The Duty of American +Women to their Country," which was ascribed alternately to Mrs. Stowe +and Miss Catharine Beecher. The two matters seemed linked to one +another by natural parity. Full acquaintance with the wrong must call +forth all manner of inventions for its redress. + +The circular, in showing the vast want that already exists of good +means for instructing the children of this nation, especially in the +West, states also the belief that among women, as being less immersed +in other cares and toils, from the preparation it gives for their task +as mothers, and from the necessity in which a great proportion stand +of earning a subsistence somehow, at least during the years which +precede marriage, if they _do_ marry, must the number of teachers +wanted be found, which is estimated already at _sixty thousand_. + +We cordially sympathize with these views. + +Much has been written about woman's keeping within her sphere, which +is defined as the domestic sphere. As a little girl she is to learn +the lighter family duties, while she acquires that limited +acquaintance with the realm of literature and science that will enable +her to superintend the instruction of children in their earliest +years. It is not generally proposed that she should be sufficiently +instructed and developed to understand the pursuits or aims of her +future husband; she is not to be a help-meet to him in the way of +companionship and counsel, except in the care of his house and +children. Her youth is to be passed partly in learning to keep house +and the use of the needle, partly in the social circle, where her +manners may be formed, ornamental accomplishments perfected and +displayed, and the husband found who shall give her the domestic +sphere for which she is exclusively to be prepared. + +Were the destiny of Woman thus exactly marked out; did she invariably +retain the shelter of a parent's or guardian's roof till she married; +did marriage give her a sure home and protector; were she never liable +to remain a widow, or, if so, sure of finding immediate protection +from a brother or new husband, so that she might never be forced to +stand alone one moment; and were her mind given for this world only, +with no faculties capable of eternal growth and infinite improvement; +we would still demand for her a for wider and more generous culture, +than is proposed by those who so anxiously define her sphere. We would +demand it that she might not ignorantly or frivolously thwart the +designs of her husband; that she might be the respected friend of her +sons, not less than of her daughters; that she might give more +refinement, elevation and attraction, to the society which is needed +to give the characters of _men_ polish and plasticity,--no less +so than to save them from vicious and sensual habits. But the most +fastidious critic on the departure of Woman from her sphere can +scarcely fail to see, at present, that a vast proportion of the sex, +if not the better half, do not, _cannot_ have this domestic +sphere. Thousands and scores of thousands in this country, no less +than in Europe, are obliged to maintain themselves alone. Far greater +numbers divide with their husbands the care of earning a support for +the family. In England, now, the progress of society has reached so +admirable a pitch, that the position of the sexes is frequently +reversed, and the husband is obliged to stay at home and "mind the +house and bairns," while the wife goes forth to the employment she +alone can secure. + +We readily admit that the picture of this is most painful;--that +Nature made an entirely opposite distribution of functions between the +sexes. We believe the natural order to be the best, and that, if it +could be followed in an enlightened spirit, it would bring to Woman +all she wants, no less for her immortal than her mortal destiny. We +are not surprised that men who do not look deeply and carefully at +causes and tendencies, should be led, by disgust at the hardened, +hackneyed characters which the present state of things too often +produces in women, to such conclusions as they are. We, no more than +they, delight in the picture of the poor woman digging in the mines in +her husband's clothes. We, no more than they, delight to hear their +voices shrilly raised in the market-place, whether of apples, or of +celebrity. But we see that at present they must do as they do for +bread. Hundreds and thousands must step out of that hallowed domestic +sphere, with no choice but to work or steal, or belong to men, not as +wives, but as the wretched slaves of sensuality. + +And this transition state, with all its revolting features, indicates, +we do believe, an approach of a nobler era than the world has yet +known. We trust that by the stress and emergencies of the present and +coming time the minds of women will be formed to more reflection and +higher purposes than heretofore; their latent powers developed, their +characters strengthened and eventually beautified and harmonized. +Should the state of society then be such that each may remain, as +Nature seems to have intended, Woman the tutelary genius of home, +while Man manages the outdoor business of life, both may be done with +a wisdom, a mutual understanding and respect, unknown at present. Men +will be no less gainers by this than women, finding in pure and more +religious marriages the joys of friendship and love combined,--in +their mothers and daughters better instruction, sweeter and nobler +companionship, and in society at large, an excitement to their finer +powers and feelings unknown at present, except in the region of the +fine arts. + +Blest be the generous, the wise, who seek to forward hopes like these, +instead of struggling, against the fiat of Providence and the march of +Fate, to bind down rushing life to the standard of the past! Such +efforts are vain, but those who make them are unhappy and unwise. + +It is not, however, to such that we address ourselves, but to those +who seek to make the best of things as they are, while they also +strive to make them better. Such persons will have seen enough of the +state of things in London, Paris, New York, and manufacturing regions +everywhere, to feel that there is an imperative necessity for opening +more avenues of employment to women, and fitting them better to enter +them, rather than keeping them back. + +Women have invaded many of the trades and some of the professions. +Sewing, to the present killing extent, they cannot long bear. +Factories seem likely to afford them permanent employment. In the +culture of fruit, flowers, and vegetables, even in the sale of them, +we rejoice to see them engaged. In domestic service they will be +aided, but can never be supplanted, by machinery. As much room as +there is here for Woman's mind and Woman's labor, will always be +filled. A few have usurped the martial province, but these must always +be few; the nature of Woman is opposed to war. It is natural enough to +see "female physicians," and we believe that the lace cap and work-bag +are as much at home here as the wig and gold-headed cane. In the +priesthood, they have, from all time, shared more or less--in many +eras more than at the present. We believe there has been no female +lawyer, and probably will be none. The pen, many of the fine arts, +they have made their own; and in the more refined countries of the +world, as writers, as musicians, as painters, as actors, women occupy +as advantageous ground as men. Writing and music may be esteemed +professions for them more than any other. + +But there are two others--where the demand must invariably be immense, +and for which they are naturally better fitted than men--for which we +should like to see them better prepared and better rewarded than they +are. These are the professions of nurse to the sick, and of the +teacher. The first of these professions we have warmly desired to see +dignified. It is a noble one, now most unjustly regarded in the light +of menial service. It is one which no menial, no servile nature can +fitly occupy. We were rejoiced when an intelligent lady of +Massachusetts made the refined heroine of a little romance select this +calling. This lady (Mrs. George Lee) has looked on society with +unusual largeness of spirit and healthiness of temper. She is well +acquainted with the world of conventions, but sees beneath it the +world of nature. She is a generous writer, and unpretending as the +generous are wont to be. We do not recall the name of the tale, but +the circumstance above mentioned marks its temper. We hope to see the +time when the refined and cultivated will choose this profession, and +learn it, not only through experience and under the direction of the +doctor, but by acquainting themselves with the laws of matter and of +mind, so that all they do shall be intelligently done, and afford them +the means of developing intelligence, as well as the nobler, tenderer +feelings of humanity; for even this last part of the benefit they +cannot receive if their work be done in a selfish or mercenary spirit. + +The other profession is that of teacher, for which women are +peculiarly adapted by their nature, superiority in tact, quickness of +sympathy, gentleness, patience, and a clear and animated manner in +narration or description. To form a good teacher, should be added to +this, sincere modesty combined with firmness, liberal views, with a +power and will to liberalize them still further, a good method, and +habits of exact and thorough investigation. In the two last requisites +women are generally deficient, but there are now many shining examples +to prove that if they are immethodical and superficial as teachers, +it is because it is the custom so to teach them, and that when aware +of these faults, they can and will correct them. + +The profession is of itself an excellent one for the improvement of +the teacher during that interim between youth and maturity when the +mind needs testing, tempering, and to review and rearrange the +knowledge it has acquired. The natural method of doing this for one's +self, is to attempt teaching others; those years also are the best of +the practical teacher. The teacher should be near the pupil, both in +years and feelings; no oracle, but the eldest brother or sister of the +pupil. More experience and years form the lecturer and director of +studies, but injure the powers as to familiar teaching. + +These are just the years of leisure in the lives even of those women +who are to enter the domestic sphere, and this calling most of all +compatible with a constant progress as to qualifications for that. + +Viewing the matter thus, it may well be seen that we should hail with +joy the assurance that sixty thousand _female_ teachers are +wanted, and more likely to be, and that a plan is projected which +looks wise, liberal and generous, to afford the means, to those whose +hearts answer to this high calling, of obeying their dictates. + +The plan is to have Cincinnati as a central point, where teachers +shall be for a short time received, examined, and prepared for their +duties. By mutual agreement and cooperation of the various sects, +funds are to be raised, and teachers provided, according to the wants +and tendencies of the various locations now destitute. What is to be +done for them centrally, is for suitable persons to examine into the +various kinds of fitness, communicate some general views whose value +has been tested, and counsel adapted to the difficulties and +advantages of their new positions. The central committee are to have +the charge of raising funds, and finding teachers, and places where +teachers are wanted. + +The passage of thoughts, teachers and funds, will be from East to +West--the course of sunlight upon this earth. + +The plan is offered as the most extensive and pliant means of doing a +good and preventing ill to this nation, by means of a national +education; whose normal school shall have an invariable object in the +search after truth, and the diffusion of the means of knowledge, while +its form shall be plastic according to the wants of the time. This +normal school promises to have good effects, for it proposes worthy +aims through simple means, and the motive for its formation and +support seems to be disinterested philanthropy. + +It promises to eschew the bitter spirit of sectarianism and +proselytism, else we, for one party, could have nothing to do with it. +Men, no doubt, have oftentimes been kept from absolute famine by the +wheat with which such tares are mingled; but we believe the time is +come when a purer and more generous food is to be offered to the +people at large. We believe the aim of all education to be to rouse +the mind to action, show it the means of discipline and of +information; then leave it free, with God, Conscience, and the love of +Truth, for its guardians and teachers. Woe be to those who sacrifice +these aims of universal and eternal value to the propagation of a set +of opinions! We can accept such doctrine as is offered by Rev. Colvin +E. Stowe, one of the committee, in the following passage: + +"In judicious practice, I am persuaded there will seldom be any very +great difficulty, especially if there be excited in the community +anything like a whole-hearted and enlightened sincerity in the cause +of public instruction. + +"It is all right for people to suit their own taste and convictions in +respect to sect; and by fair means, and at proper times, to teach +their children and those under their influence to prefer the +denominations which they prefer; but further than this no one has any +right to go. It is all wrong to hazard the well-being of the soul, to +jeopardize great public interests for the sake of advancing the +interests of a sect. People must learn to practise some self-denial, +on Christian principles, in respect to their denominational prejudices +as well as in respect to other things, before pure religion can ever +gain a complete victory over every form of human selfishness." + +The persons who propose themselves to the examination and instruction +of the teachers at Cincinnati, till the plan shall be sufficiently +under way to provide regularly for the office, are Mrs. Stowe and Miss +Catharine Beecher, ladies well known to fame, as possessing unusual +qualifications for the task. + +As to finding abundance of teachers, who that reads this little book +of Mr. Burdett's, or the account of the compensation of female labor +in New York, and the hopeless, comfortless, useless, pernicious lives +of those who have even the advantage of getting work must lead, with +the sufferings and almost inevitable degradation to which those who +cannot are exposed, but must long to snatch such as are capable of +this better profession (and among the multitude there must be many who +are or could be made so) from their present toils, and make them free, +and the means of freedom and growth in others? + +To many books on such subjects--among others to "Woman in the +Nineteenth Century"--the objection has been made, that they exhibit +ills without specifying any practical means for their remedy. The +writer of the last-named essay does indeed think that it contains one +great rule which, if laid to heart, would prove a practical remedy for +many ills, and of such daily and hourly efficacy in the conduct of +life, that any extensive observance of it for a single year would +perceptibly raise the tone of thought, feeling and conduct, throughout +the civilized world. But to those who ask not only such a principle, +but an external method for immediate use, we say that here is one +proposed which looks noble and promising; the proposers offer +themselves to the work with heart and hand, with time and purse. Go ye +and do likewise. + + + + +GEORGE SAND. + + +When I first knew George Sand, I thought to have found tried the +experiment I wanted. I did not value Bettine so much. She had not +pride enough for me. Only now, when I am sure of myself, can I pour +out my soul at the feet of another. In the assured soul it is kingly +prodigality; in one which cannot forbear it is mere babyhood. I love +"abandon" only when natures are capable of the extreme reverse. I know +Bettine would end in nothing; when I read her book I knew she could +not outlive her love. + +But in _"Les Sept Cordes de la Lyre,"_ which I read first, I saw +the knowledge of the passions and of social institutions, with the +celestial choice which rose above them. I loved Helene, who could hear +so well the terrene voices, yet keep her eye fixed on the stars. That +would be my wish also,--to know all, and then choose. I even revered +her, for I was not sure that I could have resisted the call of the +_now_; could have left the spirit and gone to God; and at a more +ambitious age I could not have refused the philosopher. But I hoped +much from her steadfastness, and I thought I heard the last tones of a +purified life. Gretchen, in the golden cloud, is raised above all past +delusions, worthy to redeem and upbear the wise man who stumbled into +the pit of error while searching for truth. + +Still, in "Andre" and "Jacques," I trace the same high morality of one +who had tried the liberty of circumstance only to learn to appreciate +the liberty of law;--to know that license is the foe of freedom; and, +though the sophistry of Passion in these books disgusted me, flowers +of purest hue seemed to grow upon the dark and dirty ground. I thought +she had cast aside the slough of her past life, and begun a new +existence beneath the sun of a new ideal. + +But here, in the _"Lettres d'un Voyageur,"_ what do I see? An +unfortunate, wailing her loneliness, wailing her mistakes, _writing +for money!_ She has genius, and a manly grasp of mind, but not a +manly heart. Will there never be a being to combine a man's mind and a +woman's heart, and who yet finds life too rich to weep over? Never? + +When I read in _"Leon Leoni"_ the account of the jeweller's +daughter's life with her mother, passed in dressing, and learning to +be looked at when dressed, _"avec un front impassible,"_ it +reminded me of ---- and her mother. What a heroine she would be for +Sand! She has the same fearless softness with Juliet, and a sportive +_naivete_ a mixture of bird and kitten, unknown to the dupe of +Leoni. + +If I were a man, and wished a wife, as many do, merely as an ornament, +a silken toy, I would take ---- as soon as any I know. Her fantastic, +impassioned and mutable nature would yield an inexhaustible amusement. +She is capable of the most romantic actions,--wild as the falcon, +voluptuous as the tuberose; yet she has not in her the elements of +romance, like a deeper or less susceptible nature. My cold and +reasoning ----, with her one love lying, perhaps never to be unfolded, +beneath such sheaths of pride and reserve, would make a far better +heroine. + +---- and her mother differ from Juliet and _her_ mother by the +impulse a single strong character gave them. Even at this distance of +time there is a light but perceptible taste of iron in the water. + +George Sand disappoints me, as almost all beings do, especially since +I have been brought close to her person by the _"Lettres d'un +Voyageur."_ Her remarks on Lavater seem really shallow, _a la +mode du genre feminin._ No self-ruling Aspasia she, but a frail +woman, mourning over her lot. Any peculiarity in her destiny seems +accidental; she is forced to this and to that to earn her bread, +forsooth! + +Yet her style--with what a deeply smouldering fire it burns! Not +vehement, but intense, like Jean Jacques. + + + + +FROM A NOTICE OF GEORGE SAND. + + +It is probably known to a great proportion of readers that this writer +is a woman, who writes under the name, and frequently assumes the +dress and manners, of a man. It is also known that she has not only +broken the marriage-bond, and, since that, formed other connections, +independent of the civil and ecclesiastical sanction, but that she +first rose into notice through works which systematically assailed the +present institution of marriage, and the social bonds which are +connected with it. + +No facts are more adapted to startle every feeling of our community; +but, since the works of Sand are read here, notwithstanding, and +cannot fail to be so while they exert so important an influence +abroad, it would be well they should be read intelligently, as to the +circumstances of their birth and their tendency. + +George Sand we esteem to be a person of strong passions, but of +original nobleness and a love of right sufficient to guide them all to +the service of worthy aims. But she fell upon evil times. She was +given in marriage, according to the fashion of the old regime; she was +taken from a convent, where she had heard a great deal about the law +of God and the example of Jesus, into a society where no vice was +proscribed, if it would only wear the cloak of hypocrisy. She found +herself impatient of deception, and loudly appealed to by passion; she +yielded, but she could not do so, as others did, sinning against what +she owned to be the rule of right and the will of Heaven. She +protested, she examined, she "hacked into the roots of things," and +the bold sound of her axe called around her every foe that finds a +home amid the growths of civilization. Still she persisted. "If it be +real," thought she, "it cannot be destroyed; as to what is false, the +sooner it goes the better; and I, for one, would rather perish by its +fall, than wither in its shade." + +Schiller puts into the mouth of Mary Stuart these words, as her only +plea: "The world knows the worst of me, and I may boast that, though I +have erred, I am better than my reputation." Sand may say the same. +All is open, noble; the free descriptions, the sophistry of passion, +are, at least, redeemed by a desire for truth as strong as ever beat +in any heart. To the weak or unthinking, the reading of such books may +not be desirable, for only those who take exercise as men can digest +strong meat. But to any one able to understand the position and +circumstances, we believe this reading cannot fail of bringing good +impulses, valuable suggestions; and it is quite free from that subtle +miasma which taints so large a portion of French literature, not less +since the Revolution than before. This we say to the foreign reader. +To her own country, Sand is a boon precious and prized, both as a +warning and a leader, for which none there can be ungrateful. She has +dared to probe its festering wounds; and if they be not past all +surgery, she is one who, most of any, helps towards a cure. + +Would, indeed, the surgeon had come with quite clean hands! A woman of +Sand's genius--as free, as bold, and pure from even the suspicion of +error--might have filled an apostolic station among her people with +what force had come her cry, "If it be false, give it up; but if it be +true, keep to it,-- one or the other!" + +But we have read all we wish to say upon this subject lately uttered +just from the quarter we could wish. It is such a woman, so +unblemished in character, so high in aim, so pure in soul, that should +address this other, as noble in nature, but clouded by error, and +struggling with circumstances. It is such women that will do such +others justice. They are not afraid to look for virtue, and reply to +aspiration, among those who have _not_ dwelt "in decencies +forever." It is a source of pride and happiness to read this address +from the heart of Elizabeth Barrett:-- + + TO GEORGE SAND. + + A DESIRE. + + Thou large-brained woman and large-hearted man, + Self-called George Sand! whose soul amid the lions + Of thy tumultuous senses moans defiance, + And answers roar for roar, as spirits can,-- + I would some wild, miraculous thunder ran + Above the applauding circus, in appliance + Of thine own nobler nature's strength and science, + Drawing two pinions, white as wings of swan, + From the strong shoulders, to amaze the place + With holier light! That thou, to woman's claim, + And man's, might join, beside, the angel's grace + Of a pure genius, sanctified from blame, + Till child and maiden pressed to thine embrace, + To kiss upon thy lips a stainless fame! + + * * * * * + + TO THE SAME. + + A RECOGNITION. + + True genius, but true woman! dost deny + Thy woman's nature with a manly scorn, + And break away the gauds and armlets worn + By weaker woman in captivity? + Ah, vain denial! that revolted cry + Is sobbed in by a woman's voice forlorn:-- + Thy woman's hair, my sister! all unshorn, + Floats back dishevelled strength in agony, + Disproving thy man's name; and while before + The world thou burnest in a poet-fire, + We see thy woman-heart beat evermore + Through the large flame. Beat purer, heart! and higher, + Till God unsex thee on the spirit-shore, + To which, alone unsexing, purely aspire! + + * * * * * + +This last sonnet seems to have been written after seeing the picture +of Sand, which represents her in a man's dress, but with long, loose +hair, and an eye whose mournful fire is impressive, even in the +caricatures. + +For some years Sand has quitted her post of assailant. She has seen +that it is better to seek some form of life worthy to supersede the +old, than rudely to destroy it, heedless of the future. Her force is +bending towards philanthropic measures. She does not appear to possess +much of the constructive faculty; and, though her writings command a +great pecuniary compensation, and have a wide sway, it is rather for +their tendency than for their thought. She has reached no commanding +point of view from which she may give orders to the advanced corps. +She is still at work with others in the breach, though she works with +more force than almost any. + +In power, indeed, Sand bears the palm above all other French +novelists. She is vigorous in conception, often great in the +apprehension and the contrast of characters. She knows passion, as has +been hinted, at a _white_ heat, when all the lower particles are +remoulded by its power. Her descriptive talent is very great, and her +poetic feeling exquisite. She wants but little of being a poet, but +that little is indispensable. Yet she keeps us always hovering on the +borders of enchanted fields. She has, to a signal degree, that power +of exact transcript from her own mind, in which almost all writers +fail. There is no veil, no half-plastic integument between us and the +thought; we vibrate perfectly with it. + +This is her chief charm, and next to it is one in which we know no +French writer that resembles her, except Rousseau, though he, indeed, +is vastly her superior in it; that is, of concentrated glow. Her +nature glows beneath the words, like fire beneath ashes,--deep, deep! + +Her best works are unequal; in many parts written hastily, or +carelessly, or with flagging spirits. They all promise far more than +they can perform; the work is not done masterly; she has not reached +that point where a writer sits at the helm of his own genius. + +Sometimes she plies the oar,--sometimes she drifts. But what greatness +she has is genuine; there is no tinsel of any kind, no drapery +carefully adjusted, no chosen gesture about her. May Heaven lead her, +at last, to the full possession of her best self, in harmony with the +higher laws of life! + +We are not acquainted with all her works, but among those we know, +mention "_La Roche Maupart_," "_Andre_," "_Jacques_," "_Les Sept Cordes +de la Lyre_," and "_Les Maitres Mosaistes_," as representing her higher +inspirations, her sincerity in expression, and her dramatic powers. +They are full of faults; still they show her scope and aim with some +fairness, which such of her readers as chance first on such of her books +as "_Leone Leoni_" may fail to find; or even such as "_Simon_," and +"_Spiridion_," though into the imperfect web of these are woven threads +of pure gold. Such is the first impression made by the girl Fiamma, so +noble, as she appears before us with the words "_E l'onore_;" such the +thought in _Spiridion_ of making the apparition the reward of virtue. + +The work she is now publishing, "_Consuelo_" with its sequel, +"_Baroness de Rudolstadt_," exhibits her genius poised on a +firmer pedestal, breathing a serener air. Still it is faulty in +conduct, and shows some obliquity of vision. She has not reached the +Interpreter's house yet. But when she does, she will have clues to +guide many a pilgrim, whom one less tried, less tempted than herself +could not help on the way. + + + + +FROM A CRITICISM ON "CONSUELO." + +* * * * *. The work itself cannot fail of innumerable readers, and a +great influence, for it counts many of the most significant pulse-beats +of the tune. Apart from its range of character and fine descriptions, +it records some of the mystical apparitions, and attempts to solve some +of the problems of the time. How to combine the benefits of the +religious life with those of the artist-life in an existence more +simple, more full, more human in short, than either of the two +hitherto known by these names has been,--this problem is but poorly +solved in the "Countess of Rudolstadt," the sequel to Consuelo. It is +true, as the English reviewer says, that George Sand is a far better +poet than philosopher, and that the chief use she can be of in these +matters is, by her great range of observation and fine intuitions, to +help to develop the thoughts of the time a little way further. But the +sincerity, the reality of all he can obtain from this writer will be +highly valued by the earnest man. + +In one respect the book is entirely successful--in showing how inward +purity and honor may preserve a woman from bewilderment and danger, +and secure her a genuine independence. Whoever aims at this is still +considered, by unthinking or prejudiced minds, as wishing to despoil +the female character of its natural and peculiar loveliness. It is +supposed that delicacy must imply weakness, and that only an Amazon +can stand upright, and have sufficient command of her faculties to +confront the shock of adversity, or resist the allurements of +tenderness. Miss Bremer, Dumas, and the northern novelist, Andersen, +make women who have a tendency to the intellectual life of an artist +fail, and suffer the penalties of arrogant presumption, in the very +first steps of a career to which an inward vocation called them in +preference to the usual home duties. Yet nothing is more obvious than +that the circumstances of the time do, more and more frequently, call +women to such lives, and that, if guardianship is absolutely necessary +to women, many must perish for want of it. There is, then, reason to +hope that God may be a sufficient guardian to those who dare rely on +him; and if the heroines of the novelists we have named ended as they +did, it was for the want of the purity of ambition and simplicity of +character which do not permit such as Consuelo to be either unseated +and depraved, or unresisting victims and breaking reeds, if left alone +in the storm and crowd of life. To many women this picture will prove +a true Consuelo (consolation), and we think even very prejudiced men +will not read it without being charmed with the expansion, sweetness +and genuine force, of a female character, such as they have not met, +but must, when painted, recognize as possible, and may be led to +review their opinions, and perhaps to elevate and enlarge their hopes, +as to "Woman's sphere" and "Woman's mission." If such insist on what +they have heard of the private life of this writer, and refuse to +believe that any good thing can come out of Nazareth, we reply that we +do not know the true facts as to the history of George Sand. There has +been no memoir or notice of her published on which any one can rely, +and we have seen too much of life to accept the monsters of gossip in +reference to any one. But we know, through her works, that, whatever +the stains on her life and reputation may have been, there is in her a +soul so capable of goodness and honor as to depict them most +successfully in her ideal forms. It is her works, and not her private +life, that we are considering. Of her works we have means of judging; +of herself, not. But among those who have passed unblamed through the +walks of life, we have not often found a nobleness of purpose and +feeling, a sincere religious hope, to be compared with the spirit that +breathes through the pages of Consuelo. + +The experiences of the artist-life, the grand and penetrating remarks +upon music, make the book a precious acquisition to all whose hearts +are fashioned to understand such things. + +We suppose that we receive here not only the mind of the writer, but +of Liszt, with whom she has publicly corresponded in the "_Lettres +d'un Voyageur_." None could more avail us, for "in him also is a +spark of the divine fire," as Beethoven said of Ichubert. We may thus +consider that we have in this book the benefit of the most electric +nature, the finest sensibility, and the boldest spirit of +investigation combined, expressing themselves in a little world of +beautiful or picturesque forms. + +Although there are grave problems discussed, and sad and searching +experiences described in this work, yet its spirit is, in the main, +hopeful, serene, almost glad. It is the spirit inspired from a near +acquaintance with the higher life of art. Seeing there something +really achieved and completed, corresponding with the soul's desires, +faith is enlivened as to the eventual fulfilment of those desires, and +we feel a certainty that the existence which looks at present so +marred and fragmentary shall yet end in harmony. The shuttle is at +work, and the threads are gradually added that shall bring out the +pattern, and prove that what seems at present confusion is really the +way and means to order and beauty. + + + + +JENNY LIND, + +THE "CONSUELO" OF GEORGE SAND. + + +Jenny Lind, the prima donna of Stockholm, is among the most +distinguished of those geniuses who have been invited to welcome the +queen to Germany. Her name has been unknown among us, as she is still +young, and has not wandered much from the scene of her first triumphs; +but many may have seen, last winter, in the foreign papers, an account +of her entrance into Stockholm after an absence of some length. The +people received her with loud cries of homage, took the horses from +her carriage and drew her home; a tribute of respect often paid to +conquerors and statesmen, but seldom, or, as far as we know, never to +the priesthood of the muses, who have conferred the higher benefit of +raising, refining and exhilarating, the popular mind. + +An accomplished Swede, now in this country, communicated to a friend +particulars of Jenny Lind's career, which suggested the thought that +she might have given the hint for the principal figure in Sand's late +famous novel, "Consuelo." + +This work is at present in process of translation in "The Harbinger," +a periodical published at Brook Farm, Mass.; but, as this translation +has proceeded but a little way, and the book in its native tongue is +not generally, though it has been extensively, circulated here, we +will give a slight sketch of its plan. + +It has been a work of deepest interest to those who have looked upon +Sand for some years back, as one of the best exponents of the +difficulties, the errors, the aspirations, the weaknesses, and the +regenerative powers of the present epoch. The struggle in her mind and +the experiments of her life have been laid bare to the eyes of her +fellow-creatures with fearless openness--fearless, not shameless. Let +no man confound the bold unreserve of Sand with that of those who have +lost the feeling of beauty and the love of good. With a bleeding heart +and bewildered feet she sought the truth, and if she lost the way, +returned as soon as convinced she had done so; but she would never +hide the fact that she had lost it. "What God knows, I dare avow to +man," seems to be her motto. It is impossible not to see in her, not +only the distress and doubts of the intellect, but the temptations of +a sensual nature; but we see too the courage of a hero and a deep +capacity for religion. This mixed nature, too, fits her peculiarly to +speak to men so diseased as men are at present. They feel she knows +their ailment, and if she find a cure, it will really be by a specific +remedy. + +An upward tendency and growing light are observable in all her works +for several years past, till now, in the present, she has expressed +such conclusions as forty years of the most varied experience have +brought to one who had shrunk from no kind of discipline, yet still +cried to God amid it all; one who, whatever you may say against her, +you must feel has never accepted a word for a thing, or worn one +moment the veil of hypocrisy; and this person one of the most powerful +nature, both as to passion and action, and of an ardent, glowing +genius. These conclusions are sadly incomplete. There is an amazing +alloy in the last product of her crucible, but there is also so much +of pure gold that the book is truly a cordial, as its name of Consuelo +(consolation) promises. + +The young Consuelo lives as a child the life of a beggar. Her youth is +passed in the lowest circumstances of the streets of Venice. She +brings the more pertinacious fire of Spanish blood to be fostered by +the cheerful airs of Italy. A vague sense of the benefits to be +derived, from such mingling of various influences, in the formation of +a character, is to be discerned in several works of art now, when men +are really wishing to become citizens of the world, though old habits +still interfere on every side with so noble a development. + +Nothing can be more charming than the first volume, which describes +the young girl amid the common life of Venice. It is sunny, open, and +romantic as the place. The beauty of her voice, when a little +singing-girl in the streets, arrested the attention of a really great +and severe master, Porpora, who educated her to music. In this she +finds the vent and the echo for her higher self. Her affections are +fixed on a young companion, an unworthy object, but she does not know +him to be so. She judges from her own candid soul, that all must be +good, and derives from the tie, for a while, the fostering influences +which love alone has for genius. Clear perception follows quickly upon +her first triumphs in art. They have given her a rival, and a mean +rival, in her betrothed, whose talent, though great, is of an inferior +grade to hers; who is vain, every way impure. Her master, Porpora, +tries to avail himself of this disappointment to convince her that the +artist ought to devote himself to art alone; that private ties must +interfere with his perfection and his glory. But the nature of +Consuelo revolts against this doctrine, as it would against the +seclusion of a convent. She feels that genius requires manifold +experience for its development, and that the mind, concentrated on a +single object, is likely to pay by a loss of vital energy for the +economy of thoughts and time. + +Driven by these circumstances into Germany, she is brought into +contact with the old noblesse, a very different, but far less +charming, atmosphere than that of the gondoliers of Venice. But here, +too, the strong, simple character of our Consuelo is unconstrained, if +not at home, and when her heart swells and needs expansion, she can +sing. + +Here the Count de Rudolstadt, Albert, loves Consuelo, which seems, in +the conduct of the relation, a type of a religious democracy in love +with the spirit of art. We do not mean that any such cold abstraction +is consciously intended, but all that is said means this. It shadows +forth one of the greatest desires which convulse our age. + +A most noble meaning is couched in the history of Albert, and though +the writer breaks down under such great attempts, and the religion and +philosophy of the book are clumsily embodied compared with its poesy +and rhetoric, yet great and still growing thoughts are expressed with +sufficient force to make the book a companion of rare value to one in +the same phase of mind. + +Albert is the aristocratic democrat, such as Alfieri was; one who, in +his keen perception of beauty, shares the good of that culture which +ages have bestowed on the more fortunate classes, but in his large +heart loves and longs for the good of all men, as if he had himself +suffered in the lowest pits of human misery. He is all this and more +in his transmigration, real or fancied, of soul, through many forms of +heroic effort and bloody error; in his incompetency to act at the +present time, his need of long silences, of the company of the dead +and of fools, and eventually of a separation from all habitual ties, +is expressed a great idea, which is still only in the throes of birth, +yet the nature of whose life we begin to prognosticate with some +clearness. + +Consuelo's escape from the castle, and even from Albert, her +admiration of him, and her incapacity to love him till her own +character be more advanced, are told with great naturalness. Her +travels with Joseph Haydn, are again as charmingly told as the +Venetian life. Here the author speaks from her habitual existence, and +far more masterly than of those deep places of thought where she is +less at home. She has lived much, discerned much, felt great need of +great thoughts, but not been able to think a great way for herself. +She fearlessly accompanies the spirit of the age, but she never +surpasses it; _that_ is the office of the great thinker. + +At Vienna Consuelo is brought fully into connection with the great +world as an artist. She finds that its realities, so far from being +less, are even more harsh and sordid for the artist than for any +other; and that with avarice, envy and falsehood, she must prepare for +the fearful combat which awaits noble souls in any kind of arena, with +the pain of disgust when they cannot raise themselves to +patience--with the almost equal pain, when they can, of pity for those +who know not what they do. + +Albert is on the verge of the grave; and Consuelo, who, not being able +to feel for him sufficient love to find in it compensation for the +loss of that artist-life to which she feels Nature has destined her, +had hitherto resisted the entreaties of his aged father, and the +pleadings of her own reverential and tender sympathy with the wants of +his soul, becomes his wife just before he dies. + +The sequel, therefore, of this history is given under the title of +Countess of Rudolstadt. Consuelo is still on the stage; she is at the +Prussian court. The well-known features of this society, as given in +the memoirs of the time, are put together with much grace and wit. The +sketch of Frederic is excellent. + +The rest of the book is devoted to expression of the author's ideas on +the subject of reform, and especially of association as a means +thereto. As her thoughts are yet in a very crude state, the execution +of this part is equally bungling and clumsy. Worse: she falsifies the +characters of both Consuelo and Albert,--who is revived again by +subterfuge of trance,--and stains her best arrangements by the mixture +of falsehood and intrigue. + +Yet she proceeds towards, if she walks not by, the light of a great +idea; and sincere democracy, universal religion, scatter from afar +many seeds upon the page for a future time. The book should be, and +will be, universally read. Those especially who have witnessed all +Sand's doubts and sorrows on the subject of marriage, will rejoice in +the clearer, purer ray which dawns upon her now. The most natural and +deep part of the book, though not her main object, is what relates to +the struggle between the claims of art and life, as to whether it be +better for the world and one's self to develop to perfection a talent +which Heaven seemed to have assigned as a special gift and vocation, +or sacrifice it whenever the character seems to require this for its +general development. The character of Consuelo is, throughout the +first part, strong, delicate, simple, bold, and pure. The fair lines +of this picture are a good deal broken in the second part; but we must +remain true to the impression originally made upon us by this charming +and noble creation of the soul of Sand. + +It is in reference to _our_ Consuelo that a correspondent +[Footnote: We do not know how accurate is this correspondent's +statement of facts. The narrative is certainly interesting.--_Ed_.] +writes, as to Jenny Lind; and we are rejoiced to find that so many +hints were, or might have been, furnished for the picture from real +life. If Jenny Lind did not suggest it, yet she must also be, in her +own sphere, a Consuelo. + +"Jenny Lind must have been born about 1822 or 1828. When a young +child, she was observed, playing about and singing in the streets of +Stockholm, by Mr. Berg, master of singing for the royal opera. Pleased +and astonished at the purity and suavity of her voice, he inquired +instantly for her family, and found her father, a poor innkeeper, +willing and glad to give up his daughter to his care, on the promise +to protect her and give her an excellent musical education. He was +always very careful of her, never permitting her to sing except in his +presence, and never letting her appear on the stage, unless as a mute +figure in some ballet, such, for instance, as Cupid and the Graces, +till she was sixteen, when she at once executed her part in 'Der +Freyschutz,' to the full satisfaction and surprise of the public of +Stockholm. From that time she gradually became the favorite of every +one. Without beauty, she seems, from her innocent and gracious +manners, beautiful on the stage and charming in society. She is one of +the few actresses whom no evil tongue can ever injure, and is +respected and welcomed in any and all societies. + +"The circumstances that reminded me of Consuelo were these: that she +was a poor child, taken up by this singing-master, and educated +thoroughly and severely by him; that she loved his son, who was a +good-for-nothing fellow, like Anzoleto, and at last discarded him; +that she refused the son of an English earl, and, when he fell sick, +his father condescended to entreat for him, just as the Count of +Rudolstadt did for his son; that, though plain and low in stature, +when singing her best parts she appears beautiful, and awakens +enthusiastic admiration; that she is rigidly correct in her demeanor +towards her numerous admirers, having even returned a present sent her +by the crown-prince, Oscar, in a manner that she deemed equivocal. +This last circumstance being noised abroad, the next time she appeared +on the stage she was greeted with more enthusiastic plaudits than +ever, and thicker showers of flowers fell upon her from the hands of +her true friends, the public. She was more fortunate than Consuelo in +not being compelled to sing to a public of Prussian corporals." + +Indeed, the picture of Frederic's opera-audience, with the pit full of +his tall grenadiers with their wives on their shoulders, never daring +to applaud except when he gave the order, as if by tap of drum, +opposed to the tender and expansive nature of the artist, is one of +the best tragicomedies extant. In Russia, too, all is military; as +soon as a new musician arrives, he is invested with a rank in the +army. Even in the church Nicholas has lately done the same. It seems +as if he could not believe a man to be alive, except in the army; +could not believe the human heart could beat, except by beat of drum. +But we believe in Russia there is at least a mask of gayety thrown +over the chilling truth. The great Frederic wished no disguise; +everywhere he was chief corporal, and trampled with his everlasting +boots the fair flowers of poesy into the dust. + +The North has been generous to us of late; she has sent us _Ole +Bull_. She is about to send _Frederika Bremer_. May she add +JENNY LIND! + + + + +CAROLINE. + + +The other evening I heard a gentle voice reading aloud the story of +Maurice, a boy who, deprived of the use of his limbs by paralysis, was +sustained in comfort, and almost in cheerfulness, by the exertions of +his twin sister. Left with him in orphanage, her affections were +centred upon him, and, amid the difficulties his misfortunes brought +upon them, grew to a fire intense and pure enough to animate her with +angelic impulses and powers. As he could not move about, she drew him +everywhere in a little cart; and when at last they heard that +sea-bathing might accomplish his cure, conveyed him, in this way, +hundreds of miles to the sea-shore. Her pious devotion and faith were +rewarded by his cure, and (a French story would be entirely incomplete +otherwise) with money, plaudits and garlands, from the by-standers. + +Though the story ends in this vulgar manner, it is, in its conduct, +extremely sweet and touching, not only as to the beautiful qualities +developed by these trials in the brother and sister, but in the +purifying and softening influence exerted, by the sight of his +helplessness and her goodness, on all around them. + +Those who are the victims of some natural blight often fulfil this +important office, and bless those within their sphere more, by +awakening feelings of holy tenderness and compassion, than a man +healthy and strong can do by the utmost exertion of his good-will and +energies. Thus, in the East, men hold sacred those in whom they find a +distortion or alienation of mind which makes them unable to provide +for themselves. The well and sane feel themselves the ministers of +Providence to carry out a mysterious purpose, while taking care of +those who are thus left incapable of taking care of themselves; and, +while fulfilling this ministry, find themselves refined and made +better. + +The Swiss have similar feelings as to those of their families whom +cretinism has reduced to idiocy. They are attended to, fed, dressed +clean, and provided with a pleasant place for the day, before doing +anything else, even by very busy and poor people. + +We have seen a similar instance, in this country, of voluntary care of +an idiot, and the mental benefits that ensued. This idiot, like most +that are called so, was not without a glimmer of mind. + +His teacher was able to give him some notions, both of spiritual and +mental facts; at least she thought she had given him the idea of God, +and though it appeared by his gestures that to him the moon was the +representative of that idea, yet he certainly did conceive of +something above him, and which inspired him with reverence and +delight. He knew the names of two or three persons who had done him +kindness, and when they were mentioned, would point upward, as he did +to the moon, showing himself susceptible, in his degree, of Mr. +Carlyle's grand method of education, hero-worship. She had awakened in +him a love of music, so that he could be soothed in his most violent +moods by her gentle singing. It was a most touching sight to see him +sitting opposite to her at such tunes, his wondering and lack-lustre +eyes filled with childish pleasure, while in hers gleamed the same +pure joy that we may suppose to animate the looks of an angel +appointed by Heaven to restore a ruined world. + +We know another instance, in which a young girl became to her village +a far more valuable influence than any patron saint who looks down +from his stone niche, while his votaries recall the legend of his +goodness in days long past. + +Caroline lived in a little, quiet country village--quiet as no village +can now remain, since the railroad strikes its spear through the peace +of country life. She lived alone with a widowed mother, for whom, as +well as for herself, her needle won bread, while the mother's +strength, and skill sufficed to the simple duties of their household. +They lived content and hopeful, till, whether from sitting still too +much, or some other cause, Caroline became ill, and soon the physician +pronounced her spine to be affected, and to such a degree that she was +incurable. + +This news was a thunder-bolt to the poor little cottage. The mother, +who had lost her elasticity of mind, wept in despair; but the young +girl, who found so early all the hopes and joys of life taken from +her, and that she was seemingly left without any shelter from the +storm, had even at first the faith and strength to bow her head in +gentleness, and say, "God will provide." She sustained and cheered her +mother. + +And God did provide. With simultaneous vibration the hearts of all +their circle acknowledged the divine obligation of love and mutual aid +between human beings. Food, clothing, medicine, service, were all +offered freely to the widow and her daughter. + +Caroline grew worse, and was at last in such a state that she could +only be moved upon a sheet, and by the aid of two persons. In this +toilsome service, and every other that she required for years, her +mother never needed to ask assistance. The neighbors took turns in +doing all that was required, and the young girls, as they were growing +up, counted it among their regular employments to work for or read to +Caroline. + +Not without immediate reward was their service of love. The mind of +the girl, originally bright and pure, was quickened and wrought up to +the finest susceptibility by the nervous exaltation that often ensues +upon affection of the spine. The soul, which had taken an upward +impulse from its first act of resignation, grew daily more and more +into communion with the higher regions of life, permanent and pure. +Perhaps she was instructed by spirits which, having passed through a +similar trial of pain and loneliness, had risen to see the reason why. +However that may be, she grew in nobleness of view and purity of +sentiment, and, as she received more instruction from books also than +any other person in her circle, had from many visitors abundant +information as to the events which were passing around her, and +leisure to reflect on them with a disinterested desire for truth, she +became so much wiser than her companions as to be at last their +preceptress and best friend, and her brief, gentle comments and +counsels were listened to as oracles from one enfranchised from the +films which selfishness and passion cast over the eyes of the +multitude. + +The twofold blessing conferred by her presence, both in awakening none +but good feelings in the hearts of others, and in the instruction she +became able to confer, was such, that, at the end of five years, no +member of that society would have been so generally lamented as +Caroline, had Death called her away. + +But the messenger, who so often seems capricious in his summons, took +first the aged mother, and the poor girl found that life had yet the +power to bring her grief, unexpected and severe. + +And now the neighbors met in council. Caroline could not be left quite +alone in the house. Should they take turns, and stay with her by night +as well as by day? + +"Not so," said the blacksmith's wife; "the house will never seem like +home to her now, poor thing! and 't would be kind of dreary for her to +change about her _nusses_ so. I'll tell you what; all my children +but one are married and gone off; we have property enough; I will have +a good room fixed for her, and she shall live with us. My husband +wants her to, as much as me." + +The council acquiesced in this truly humane arrangement, and Caroline +lives there still; and we are assured that none of her friends dread +her departure so much as the blacksmith's wife. + +"'Ta'n't no trouble at all to have her," she says, "and if it was, I +shouldn't care; she is so good and still, and talks so pretty! It's +as good bein' with her as goin' to meetin'!" + +De Maistre relates some similar passages as to a sick girl in St. +Petersburgh, though his mind dwelt more on the spiritual beauty +evinced in her remarks, than on the good she had done to those around +her. Indeed, none bless more than those who "only stand and wait." +Even if their passivity be enforced by fate, it will become a +spiritual activity, if accepted in a faith higher above fate than the +Greek gods were supposed to sit enthroned above misfortune. + + + + +EVER-GROWING LIVES. + + "Age could not wither her, nor custom stale + Her infinite variety." + + +So was one person described by the pen which has made a clearer mark +than any other on the history of Man. But is it not surprising that +such a description should apply to so few? + +Of two or three women we read histories that correspond with the hint +given in these lines. They were women in whom there was intellect +enough to temper and enrich, heart enough to soften and enliven the +entire being. There was soul enough to keep the body beautiful through +the term of earthly existence; for while the roundness, the pure, +delicate lineaments, the flowery bloom of youth were passing, the +marks left in the course of those years were not merely of time and +care, but also of exquisite emotions and noble thoughts. With such +chisels Time works upon his statues, tracery and fretwork, well worth +the loss of the first virgin beauty of the alabaster; while the fire +within, growing constantly brighter and brighter, shows all these +changes in the material, as rich and varied ornaments. The vase, at +last, becomes a lamp of beauty, fit to animate the councils of the +great, or the solitude of the altar. + +Two or three women there have been, who have thus grown even more +beautiful with age. We know of many more men of whom this is true. +These have been heroes, or still more frequently poets and artists; +with whom the habitual life tended to expand the soul, deepen and vary +the experience, refine the perceptions, and immortalize the hopes and +dreams of youth. + +They were persons who never lost their originality of character, nor +spontaneity of action. Their impulses proceeded from a fulness and +certainty of character, that made it impossible they should doubt or +repent, whatever the results of their actions might be. + +They could not repent, in matters little or great, because they felt +that their notions were a sincere exposition of the wants of their +souls. Their impulsiveness was not the restless fever of one who must +change his place somehow or some-whither, but the waves of a tide, +which might be swelled to vehemence by the action of the winds or the +influence of an attractive orb, but was none the less subject to fixed +laws. + +A character which does not lose its freedom of motion and impulse by +contact with the world, grows with its years more richly creative, +more freshly individual. It is a character governed by a principle of +its own, and not by rules taken from other men's experience; and +therefore it is that + + "Age cannot wither them, nor custom stale + Their infinite variety." + + +Like violins, they gain by age, and the spirit of him who discourseth +through them most excellent music, + + "Like wine well kept and long, + Heady, nor harsh, nor strong, + With each succeeding year is quaffed + A richer, purer, mellower draught." + + +Our French neighbors have been the object of humorous satire for their +new coinage of terms to describe the heroes of their modern romance. +A hero is no hero unless he has "ravaged brows," is "blase" or "brise" +or "fatigue." His eyes must be languid, and his cheeks hollow. Youth, +health and strength, charm no more; only the tree broken by the gust +of passion is beautiful, only the lamp that has burnt out the better +part of its oil precious, in their eyes. This, with them, assumes the +air of caricature and grimace, yet it indicates a real want of this +time--a feeling that the human being ought to grow more rather than +less attractive with the passage of time, and that the decrease in +physical charms would, in a fair and full life, be more than +compensated by an increase of those which appeal to the imagination +and higher feelings. + +A friend complains that, while most men are like music-boxes, which +you can wind up to play their set of tunes, and then they stop, in our +society the set consists of only two or three tunes at most That is +because no new melodies are added after five-and-twenty at farthest. +It is the topic of jest and amazement with foreigners that what is +called society is 'given up so much into the hands of boys and girls. +Accordingly it wants spirit, variety and depth of tone, and we find +there no historical presences, none of the charms, infinite in +variety, of Cleopatra, no heads of Julius Caesar, overflowing with +meanings, as the sun with light. + +Sometimes we hear an educated voice that shows us how these things +might be altered. It has lost the fresh tone of youth, but it has +gained unspeakably in depth, brilliancy, and power of expression. How +exquisite its modulations, so finely shaded, showing that all the +intervals are filled up with little keys of fairy delicacy and in +perfect tune! + +Its deeper tones sound the depth of the past; its more thrilling notes +express an awakening to the infinite, and ask a thousand questions of +the spirits that are to unfold our destinies, too far-reaching to be +clothed in words. Who does not feel the sway of such a voice? It makes +the whole range of our capacities resound and tremble, and, when there +is positiveness enough to give an answer, calls forth most melodious +echoes. + +The human eye gains, in like manner, by tune and experience. Its +substance fades, but it is only the more filled with an ethereal +lustre which penetrates the gazer till he feels as if + + "That eye were in itself a soul," + + +and realizes the range of its power + + "To rouse, to win, to fascinate, to melt, + And by its spell of undefined control + Magnetic draw the secrets of the soul." + + +The eye that shone beneath the white locks of Thorwaldsen was such an +one,--the eye of immortal youth, the indicator of the man's whole +aspect in a future sphere. We have scanned such eyes closely; when +near, we saw that the lids were red, the corners defaced with ominous +marks, the orb looked faded and tear-stained; but when we retreated +far enough for its ray to reach us, it seemed far younger than the +clear and limpid gaze of infancy, more radiant than the sweetest beam +in that of early youth. The Future and the Past met in that glance, + +O for more such eyes! The vouchers of free, of full and ever-growing +lives! + + + + +HOUSEHOLD NOBLENESS, + + "Mistress of herself, though China fell." + + +Women, in general, are indignant that the satirist should have made +this the climax to his praise of a woman. And yet, we fear, he saw +only too truly. What unexpected failures have we seen, literally, in +this respect! How often did the Martha blur the Mary out of the face +of a lovely woman at the sound of a crash amid glass and porcelain! +What sad littleness in all the department thus represented! Obtrusion +of the mop and duster on the tranquil meditation of a husband and +brother. Impatience if the carpet be defaced by the feet even of +cherished friends. + +There is a beautiful side, and a good reason here; but why must the +beauty degenerate, and give place to meanness? + +To Woman the care of home is confided. It is the sanctuary, of which +she should be the guardian angel. To all elements that are introduced +there she should be the "ordering mind." She represents the spirit of +beauty, and her influence should be spring-like, clothing all objects +within her sphere with lively, fresh and tender hues. + +She represents purity, and all that appertains to her should be kept +delicately pure. She is modesty, and draperies should soften all rude +lineaments, and exclude glare and dust. She is harmony, and all +objects should be in their places ready for, and matched to, their +uses. + +We all know that there is substantial reason for the offence we feel +at defect in any of these ways. A woman who wants purity, modesty and +harmony, in her dress and manners, is insufferable; one who wants them +in the arrangements of her house, disagreeable to everybody. She +neglects the most obvious ways of expressing what we desire to see in +her, and the inference is ready, that the inward sense is wanting. + +It is with no merely gross and selfish feeling that all men commend +the good housekeeper, the good nurse. Neither is it slight praise to +say of a woman that she does well the honors of her house in the way +of hospitality. The wisdom that can maintain serenity, cheerfulness +and order, in a little world of ten or twelve persons, and keep ready +the resources that are needed for their sustenance and recovery in +sickness and sorrow, is the same that holds the stars in their places, +and patiently prepares the precious metals in the most secret chambers +of the earth. The art of exercising a refined hospitality is a fine +art, and the music thus produced only differs from that of the +orchestra in this, that in the former case the overture or sonata +cannot be played twice in the same manner. It requires that the +hostess shall combine true self-respect and repose, + + "The simple art of _not too much_," + + +with refined perception of individual traits and moods in character, +with variety and vivacity, an ease, grace and gentleness, that diffuse +their sweetness insensibly through every nook of an assembly, and call +out reciprocal sweetness wherever there is any to be found. + +The only danger in all this is the same that besets us in every walk +of life; to wit, that of preferring the outward sign to the inward +spirit whenever there is cause to hesitate between the two. + +"I admire," says Goethe, "the Chinese novels; they express so happily +ease, peace and a finish unknown to other nations in the interior +arrangements of their homes. + +"In one of them I came upon the line, 'I heard the lovely maidens +laughing, and found my way to the garden, where they were seated in +their light cane-chairs,' To me this brings an immediate animation, by +the images it suggests of lightness, brightness and elegance." + +This is most true, but it is also most true that the garden-house +would not seem thus charming unless its light cane-chairs had lovely, +laughing maidens seated in them. And the lady who values her +porcelain, that most exquisite product of the peace and +thorough-breeding of China, so highly, should take the hint, and +remember that unless the fragrant herb of wit, sweetened by kindness, +and softened by the cream of affability, also crown her board, the +prettiest tea-cups in the world might as well lie in fragments in the +gutter, as adorn her social show. The show loses its beauty when it +ceases to represent a substance. + +Here, as elsewhere, it is only vanity, narrowness and self-seeking, +that spoil a good thing. Women would never be too good housekeepers +for their own peace and that of others, if they considered +housekeeping only as a means to an end. If their object were really +the peace and joy of all concerned, they could bear to have their cups +and saucers broken more easily than their tempers, and to have +curtains and carpets soiled, rather than their hearts by mean and +small feelings. But they are brought up to think it is a disgrace to +be a bad housekeeper, not because they must, by such a defect, be a +cause of suffering and loss of time to all within their sphere, but +because all other women will laugh at them if they are so. Here is the +vice,--for want of a high motive there can be no truly good action. + +We have seen a woman, otherwise noble and magnanimous in a high +degree, so insane on this point as to weep bitterly because she found +a little dust on her picture-frames, and torment her guests all +dinner-time with excuses for the way in which the dinner was cooked. + +We have known others to join with their servants to backbite the best +and noblest friends for trifling derelictions against the accustomed +order of the house. The broom swept out the memory of much sweet +counsel and loving-kindness, and spots on the table-cloth were more +regarded than those they made on their own loyalty and honor in the +most intimate relations. + +"The worst of furies is a woman scorned," and the sex, so lively, +mobile, impassioned, when passion is aroused at all, are in danger of +frightful error, under great temptation. The angel can give place to a +more subtle and treacherous demon, though one, generally, of less +tantalizing influence, than in the breast of man. In great crises, +Woman needs the highest reason to restrain her; but her besetting sin +is that of littleness. Just because nature and society unite to call +on her for such fineness and finish, she can be so petty, so fretful, +so vain, envious and base! O, women, see your danger! See how much you +need a great object in all your little actions. You cannot be fair, +nor can your homes be fair, unless you are holy and noble. Will you +sweep and garnish the house, only that it may be ready for a legion of +evil spirits to enter in--for imps and demons of gossip, frivolity, +detraction, and a restless fever about small ills? What is the house +for, if good spirits cannot peacefully abide there? Lo! they are +asking for the bill in more than one well-garnished mansion. They +sought a home and found a work-house. Martha! it was thy fault! + + + + +"GLUMDALCLITCHES." + + +This title was wittily given by an editor of this city to the ideal +woman demanded in "Woman in the Nineteenth Century." We do not object +to it, thinking it is really desirable that women should grow beyond +the average size which has been prescribed for them. We find in the +last news from Paris these anecdotes of two who "tower" an inch or +more "above their sex," if not yet of Glumdalclitch stature. + +"_Bravissima!_--The 7th of May, at Paris, a young girl, who was +washing linen, fell into the Canal St. Martin. Those around called out +for help, but none ventured to give it. Just then a young lady +elegantly dressed came up and saw the case; in the twinkling of an eye +she threw off her hat and shawl, threw herself in, and succeeded in +dragging the young girl to the brink, after having sought for her in +vain several times under the water. This lady was Mlle. Adele +Chevalier, an actress. She was carried, with the girl she had saved, +into a neighboring house, which she left, after having received the +necessary cares, in a fiacre, and amid the plaudits of the crowd." + +The second anecdote is of a different kind, but displays a kind of +magnanimity still more unusual in this poor servile world: + +"One of our (French) most distinguished painters of sea-subjects, +Gudin, has married a rich young English lady, belonging to a family of +high rank, and related to the Duke of Wellington. M. Gudin was lately +at Berlin at the same time with K----, inspector of pictures to the +King of Holland. The King of Prussia desired that both artists should +be presented to him, and received Gudin in a very flattering manner; +his genius being his only letter of recommendation. + +"Monsieur K---- has not the same advantage; but, to make up for it, he +has a wife who enjoys in Holland a great reputation for her beauty. +The King of Prussia is a cavalier, who cares more for pretty ladies +than for genius. So Monsieur and Madame K---- were invited to the +royal table--an honor which was not accorded to Monsieur and Madame +Gudin. + +"Humble representations were made to the monarch, advising him not to +make such a marked distinction between the French artist and the Dutch +amateur. These failing, the wise counsellors went to Madame Gudin, +and, intimating that they did so with the good-will of the king, said +that she might be received as cousin to the Duke of Wellington, as +daughter of an English general, and of a family which dates back to +the thirteenth century. She could, if she wished, avail herself of her +rights of birth to obtain the same honors with Madame K----. To sit at +the table of the king, she need only cease for a moment to be Madame +Gudin, and become once more Lady L----." + +Does not all this sound like a history of the seventeenth century? +Surely etiquette was never maintained in a more arrogant manner at the +court of Louis XIV. + +But Madame Gudin replied that her highest pride lay in the celebrated +name which she bears at present; that she did not wish to rely on any +other to obtain so futile a distinction, and that, in her eyes, the +most noble escutcheon was the palette of her husband. + +I need not say that this dignified feeling was not comprehended. +Madame Gudin was not received at the table, but she had shown the +nobleness of her character. For the rest, Madame K----, on arriving at +Paris, had the bad taste to boast of having been distinguished above +Madame Gudin, and the story reaching the Tuileries, where Monsieur and +Madame Gudin are highly favored, excited no little mirth in the circle +there. + + + + +"ELLEN: OR, FORGIVE AND FORGET." + + +We notice this coarsely-written little fiction because it is one of a +class which we see growing with pleasure. We see it with pleasure, +because, in its way, it is genuine. It is a transcript of the crimes, +calumnies, excitements, half-blind love of right, and honest +indignation at the sort of wrong which it can discern, to be found in +the class from which it emanates. + +That class is a large one in our country villages, and these books +reflect its thoughts and manners as half-penny ballads do the life of +the streets of London. The ballads are not more true to the facts; but +they give us, in a coarser form, far more of the spirit than we get +from the same facts reflected in the intellect of a Dickens, for +instance, or of any writer far enough above the scene to be properly +its artist. + +So, in this book, we find what Cooper, Miss Sedgwick and Mrs. +Kirkland, might see, as the writer did, but could hardly believe in +enough to speak of it with such fidelity. + +It is a current superstition that country people are more pure and +healthy in mind and body than those who live in cities. It may be so +in countries of old-established habits, where a genuine peasantry have +inherited some of the practical wisdom and loyalty of the past, with +most of its errors. We have our doubts, though, from the stamp upon +literature, always the nearest evidence of truth we can get, whether, +even there, the difference between town and country life is as much in +favor of the latter as is generally supposed. But in our land, where +the country is at present filled with a mixed population, who come +seeking to be purified by a better life and culture from all the ills +and diseases of the worst forms of civilization, things often +_look_ worse than in the city; perhaps because men have more time +and room to let their faults grow and offend the light of day. + +There are exceptions, and not a few; but, in a very great proportion +of country villages, the habits of the people, as to food, air, and +even exercise, are ignorant and unhealthy to the last degree. Their +want of all pure faith, and appetite for coarse excitement, is shown +by continued intrigues, calumnies, and crimes. + +We have lived in a beautiful village, where, more favorably placed +than any other person in it, both as to withdrawal from bad +associations and nearness to good, we heard inevitably, from +domestics, work-people, and school-children, more ill of human nature +than we could possibly sift were we to elect such a task from all the +newspapers of this city, in the same space of time. + +We believe the amount of ill circulated by means of anonymous letters, +as described in this book, to be as great as can be imported in all +the French novels (and that is a bold word). We know ourselves of two +or three cases of morbid wickedness, displayed by means of anonymous +letters, that may vie with what puzzled the best wits of France in a +famous law-suit not long since. It is true, there is, to balance all +this, a healthy rebound,--a surprise and a shame; and there are +heartily good people, such as are described in this book, who, having +taken a direction upward, keep it, and cannot be bent downward nor +aside. But, then, the reverse of the picture is of a blackness that +would appall one who came to it with any idyllic ideas of the purity +and peaceful loveliness of agricultural life. + +But what does this prove? Only the need of a dissemination of all that +is best, intellectually and morally, through the whole people. Our +groves and fields have no good fairies or genii who teach, by legend +or gentle apparition, the truths, the principles, that can alone +preserve the village, as the city, from the possession of the fiend. +Their place must be taken by the school-master, and he must be one who +knows not only "readin', writin', and 'rithmetic," but the service of +God and the destiny of man. Our people require a thoroughly-diffused +intellectual life, a religious aim, such as no people at large ever +possessed before; else they must sink till they become dregs, rather +than rise to become the cream of creation, which they are too apt to +flatter themselves with the fancy of being already. + +The most interesting fiction we have ever read in this coarse, homely, +but genuine class, is one called "Metallek." It may be in circulation +in this city; but we bought it in a country nook, and from a pedlar; +and it seemed to belong to the country. Had we met with it in any +other way, it would probably have been to throw it aside again +directly, for the author does not know how to write English, and the +first chapters give no idea of his power of apprehending the poetry of +life. But happening to read on, we became fixed and charmed, and have +retained from its perusal the sweetest picture of life lived in this +land, ever afforded us, out of the pale of personal observation. That +such things are, private observation has made us sure; but the writers +of books rarely seem to have seen them; rarely to have walked alone in +an untrodden path long enough to hold commune with the spirit of the +scene. + +In this book you find the very life; the most vulgar prose, and the +most exquisite poetry. You follow the hunter in his path, walking +through the noblest and fairest scenes only to shoot the poor animals +that were happy there, winning from the pure atmosphere little benefit +except to good appetite, sleeping at night in the dirty hovels, with +people who burrow in them to lead a life but little above that of the +squirrels end foxes. There is throughout that air of room enough, and +free if low forms of human nature, which, at such times, makes +bearable all that would otherwise be so repulsive. + +But when we come to the girl who is the presiding deity, or rather the +tutelary angel of the scene, how are all discords harmonized; how all +its latent music poured forth! It is a portrait from the life--it has +the mystic charm of fulfilled reality, how far beyond the fairest +ideals ever born of thought! Pure, and brilliantly blooming as the +flower of the wilderness, she, in like manner, shares while she +sublimes its nature. She plays round the most vulgar and rude beings, +gentle and caressing, yet unsullied; in her wildness there is nothing +cold or savage; her elevation is soft and warm. Never have we seen +natural religion more beautifully expressed; never so well discerned +the influence of the natural nun, who needs no veil or cloister to +guard from profanation the beauty she has dedicated to God, and which +only attracts human love to hallow it into the divine. + +The lonely life of the girl after the death of her parents,--her +fearlessness, her gay and sweet enjoyment of nature, her intercourse +with the old people of the neighborhood, her sisterly conduct towards +her "suitors,"--all seem painted from the life; but the death-bed +scene seems borrowed from some sermon, and is not in harmony with the +rest. + +In this connection we must try to make amends for the stupidity of an +earlier notice of the novel, called "Margaret, or the Real and Ideal," +&c. At the time of that notice we had only looked into it here and +there, and did no justice to a work full of genius, profound in its +meaning, and of admirable fidelity to nature in its details. Since +then we have really read it, and appreciated the sight and +representation of soul-realities; and we have lamented the long delay +of so true a pleasure. + +A fine critic said, "This is a Yankee novel; or rather let it be +called _the_ Yankee novel, as nowhere else are the thought and +dialect of our villages really represented." Another discovered that +it must have been written in Maine, by the perfection with which +peculiar features of scenery there are described. + +A young girl could not sufficiently express her delight at the simple +nature with which scenes of childhood are given, and especially at +Margaret's first going to meeting. She had never elsewhere found +written down what she had felt. + +A mature reader, one of the most spiritualized and harmonious minds we +have ever met, admires the depth and fulness in which the workings of +the spirit through the maiden's life are seen by the author, and shown +to us; but laments the great apparatus with which the consummation of +the whole is brought about, and the formation of a new church and +state, before the time is yet ripe, under the banner of Mons. Christi. + +But all these voices, among those most worthy to be heard, find in the +book a _real presence_, and draw from it auspicious omens that an +American literature is possible even in our day, because there are +already in the mind here existent developments worthy to see the +light, gold-fishes amid the moss in the still waters. + +For ourselves, we have been most charmed with the way the Real and +Ideal are made to weave and shoot rays through one another, in which +Margaret bestows on external nature what she receives through books, +and wins back like gifts in turn, till the pond and the mythology are +alternate sections of the same chapter. We delight in the teachings +she receives through Chilion and his violin, till on the grave of "one +who tried to love his fellow-men" grows up the full white rose-flower +of her life. The ease with which she assimilates the city life when in +it, making it a part of her imaginative tapestry, is a sign of the +power to which she has grown. + +We have much more to think and to say of the book, as a whole, and in +parts; and should the mood and summer leisure ever permit a familiar +and intimate acquaintance with it, we trust they will be both thought +and said. For the present, we will only add that it exhibits the same +state of things, and strives to point out such remedies as we have +hinted at in speaking of the little book which heads this notice; +itself a rude charcoal sketch, but if read as hieroglyphics are, +pointing to important meanings and results. + + + + +"COURRIER DES ETATS UNIS." + + +No other nation can hope to vie with the French in the talent of +communicating information with ease, vivacity and consciousness. They +must always be the best narrators and the best interpreters, so far as +presenting a clear statement of outlines goes. Thus they are excellent +in conversation, lectures, and journalizing. + +After we know all the news of the day, it is still pleasant to read +the bulletin of the _"Courrier des Etats Unis."_ We rarely agree +with the view taken; but as a summary it is so excellently well done, +every topic put in its best place, with such a light and vigorous +hand, that we have the same pleasure we have felt in fairy tales, when +some person under trial is helped by a kind fairy to sort the silks +and feathers to their different places, till the glittering confusion +assumes the order,--of a kaleidoscope. + +Then, what excellent correspondents they have in Paris! What a +humorous and yet clear account we have before us, now, of the Thiers +game! We have traced Guizot through every day with the utmost +distinctness, and see him perfectly in the sick-room. Now, here is +Thiers, playing with his chess-men, Jesuits, &c. A hundred clumsy +English or American papers could not make the present crisis in Paris +so clear as we see it in the glass of these nimble Frenchmen. + +Certainly it is with newspaper-writing as with food; the English and +Americans have as good appetites, but do not, and never will, know so +well how to cook as the French. The Parisian correspondent of the +_"Schnellpost"_ also makes himself merry with the play of M. +Thiers. Both speak with some feeling of the impressive utterance of +Lamartine in the late debates. The Jesuits stand their ground, but +there is a wave advancing which will not fail to wash away what ought +to go,--nor are its roarings, however much in advance of the wave +itself, to be misinterpreted by intelligent ears. The world is raising +its sleepy lids, and soon no organization can exist which from its +very nature interferes in any way with the good of the whole. + +In Germany the terrors of the authorities are more and more directed +against the communists. They are very anxious to know what communism +really is, or means. They have almost forgotten, says the +correspondent, the repression of the Jews, and like objects, in this +new terror. Meanwhile, the Russian Emperor has issued an edict, +commanding the Polish Jews, both men and women, to lay aside their +national garb. He hopes thus to mingle them with the rest of the mass +he moves. It will be seen whether such work can be done by beginning +upon the outward man. + +The Paris correspondent of the _"Courrier,"_ who gives an account +of amusements, has always many sprightly passages illustrative of the +temper of the times. Horse-races are now the fashion, in which he +rejoices, as being likely to give to France good horses of her own. A +famous lottery is on the point of coming off,--to give an organ to the +Church of St. Eustache,--on which it does not require a very high tone +of morals to be severe. A public exhibition has been made of the +splendid array of prizes, including every article of luxury, from +jewels and cashmere shawls down to artificial flowers. + +A nobleman, president of the Horticultural Society, had given an +entertainment, in which the part of the different flowers was acted by +beautiful women, that of fruit and vegetables by distinguished men. +Such an amusement would admit of much light grace and wit, which may +still be found in France, if anywhere in the world. + +There is also an amusing story of the stir caused among the French +political leaders by the visit of a nobleman of one of the great +English families, to Paris. "He had had several audiences, previous to +his departure from London, of Queen Victoria; he received a despatch +daily from the English court. But in reply to all overtures made to +induce him to open his mission, he preserved a gloomy silence. All +attentions, all signs of willing confidence, are lavished on him in +vain. France is troubled. 'Has England,' thought she, 'a secret from +us, while we have none from her?' She was on the point of inventing +one, when, lo! the secret mission turns out to be the preparation of a +ball-dress, with whose elegance, fresh from Parisian genius, her +Britannic majesty wished to dazzle and surprise her native realm." + +'T is a pity Americans cannot learn the grace which decks these +trifling jests with so much prettiness. Till we can import something +of that, we have no right to rejoice in French fashions and French +wines. Such a nervous, driving nation as we are, ought to learn to fly +along gracefully, on the light, fantastic toe. Can we not learn +something of the English beside the knife and fork conventionalities +which, with them, express a certain solidity of fortune and resolve? +Can we not get from the French something beside their worst novels? + + + + +"COURRIER DES ETATS UNIS." + +OUR PROTEGEE, QUEEN VICTORIA. + + +The _Courrier_ laughs, though with features somewhat too +disturbed for a graceful laugh, at a notice, published a few days +since in the _Tribune_, of one of its jests which scandalized the +American editor. It does not content itself with a slight notice, but +puts forth a manifesto, in formidably large type, in reply. + +With regard to the jest itself, we must remark that Mr. Greeley saw +this only in a translation, where it had lost whatever of light and +graceful in its manner excused a piece of raillery very coarse in its +substance. We will admit that, had he seen it as it originally stood, +connected with other items in the playful chronicle of Pierre Durand, +it would have impressed him differently. + +But the cause of irritation in the _Courrier_, and of the sharp +repartees of its manifesto, is, probably, what was said of the +influence among us of "French literature and French morals," to which +the "organ of the French-American population" felt called on to make a +spirited reply, and has done so with less of wit and courtesy than +could have been expected from the organ of a people who, whatever may +be their faults, are at least acknowledged in wit and courtesy +preeminent. We hope that the French who come to us will not become, in +these respects, Americanized, and substitute the easy sneer, and use +of such terms as "ridiculous," "virtuous misanthropy," &c., for the +graceful and poignant raillery of their native land, which tickles +even where it wounds. + +We may say, in reply to the _Courrier_, that if Fourierism +"recoils towards a state of nature," it arises largely from the fact +that its author lived in a country where the natural relations are, if +not more cruelly, at least more lightly violated, than in any other of +the civilized world. The marriage of convention has done its natural +office in sapping the morals of France, till breach of the marriage +vow has become one of the chief topics of its daily wit, one of the +acknowledged traits of its manners, and a favorite--in these modern +times we might say the favorite--subject of its works of fiction. From +the time of Moliere, himself an agonized sufferer behind his comic +mask from the infidelities of a wife he was not able to cease to love, +through memoirs, novels, dramas, and the volleyed squibs of the press, +one fact stares us in the face as one of so common occurrence, that +men, if they have not ceased to suffer in heart and morals from its +poisonous action, have yet learned to bear with a shrug and a careless +laugh that marks its frequency. Understand, we do not say that the +French are the most deeply stained with vice of all nations. We do not +think them so. There are others where there is as much, but there is +none where it is so openly acknowledged in literature, and therefore +there is none whose literature alone is so likely to deprave +inexperienced minds, by familiarizing them with wickedness before they +have known the lure and the shock of passion. And we believe that this +is the very worst way for youth to be misled, since the miasma thus +pervades the whole man, and he is corrupted in head and heart at once, +without one strengthening effort at resistance. + +Were it necessary, we might substantiate what we say by quoting from +the _Courrier_ within the last fortnight, jokes and stories such +as are not to be found so _frequently_ in the prints of any +other nation. There is the story of the girl Adelaide, which, at +another time, we mean to quote, for its terrible pathos. There is a +man on trial for the murder of his wife, of whom the witnesses say, +"he was so fond of her you would never have known she was his wife!" +Here is one, only yesterday, where a man kills a woman to whom he was +married by his relatives at eighteen, she being much older, and +disagreeable to him, but their properties matching. After twelve +years' marriage, he can no longer support the yoke, and kills both her +and her father, and "his only regret is that he cannot kill all who +had anything to do with the match." + +Either infidelity or such crimes are the natural result of marriages +made as they are in France, by agreement between the friends, without +choice of the parties. It is this horrible system, and not a native +incapacity for pure and permanent relations, that leads to such +results. + +We must observe, _en passant_, that this man was the father of +five children by this hated woman--a wickedness not peculiar to France +or any nation, and which cannot foil to do its work of filling the +world with sickly, weak, or depraved beings, who have reason to curse +their brutal father that he does not murder them as well as their +wretched mother,--who, more unhappy than the victim of seduction, is +made the slave of sense in the name of religion and law. + +The last steamer brings us news of the disgrace of Victor Hugo, one of +the most celebrated of the literary men of France, and but lately +created one of her peers. The affair, however, is to be publicly +"hushed up." + +But we need not cite many instances to prove, what is known to the +whole world, that these wrongs are, if not more frequent, at least +more lightly treated by the French, in literature and discourse, than +by any nation of Europe. This being the case, can an American, anxious +that his country should receive, as her only safeguard from endless +temptations, good moral instruction and mental food, be otherwise than +grieved at the promiscuous introduction among us of their writings? + +We know that there are in France good men, pure books, true wit. But +there is an immensity that is bad, and more hurtful to our farmers, +clerks and country milliners, than to those to whose tastes it was +originally addressed,--as the small-pox is most fatal among the wild +men of the woods,--and this, from the unprincipled cupidity of +publishers, is broad-cast recklessly over all the land we had hoped +would become a healthy asylum for those before crippled and tainted by +hereditary abuses. This cannot be prevented; we can only make head +against it, and show that there is really another way of thinking and +living,--ay, and another voice for it in the world. We are naturally +on the alert, and if we sometimes start too quickly, that is better +than to play "_Le noir Faineant_"--(The Black Sluggard). + +We are displeased at the unfeeling manner in which the _Courrier_ +speaks of those whom he calls _our models_. He did not misunderstand +us, and some things he says on this subject deserve and suggest a retort +that would be bitter. But we forbear, because it would injure the +innocent with the guilty. The _Courrier_ ranks the editor of +the _Tribune_ among "the men who have undertaken an ineffectual +struggle against the perversities of this lower world." By _ineffectual_ +we presume he means that it has never succeeded in exiling evil from +this lower world. We are proud to be ranked among the band of those +who at least, in the ever-memorable words of Scripture, have "done what +they could" for this purpose. To this band belong all good men of all +countries, and France has contributed no small contingent of those whose +purpose was noble, whose lives were healthy, and whose minds, even in +their lightest moods, pure. We are better pleased to act as sutler or +pursuivant of this band, whose strife the _Courrier_ thinks so +_impuissante_, than to reap the rewards of efficiency on the other +side. There is not too much of this salt, in proportion to the whole +mass that needs to be salted, nor are "occasional accesses of virtuous +misanthropy" the worst of maladies in a world that affords such abundant +occasion for it. + +In fine, we disclaim all prejudice against the French nation. We feel +assured that all, or almost all, impartial minds will acquiese in what +we say as to the tone of lax morality, in reference to marriage, so +common in their literature. We do not like it, in joke or in earnest; +neither are we of those to whom vice "loses most of its deformity by +losing all its grossness." If there be a deep and ulcerated wound, we +think the more "the richly-embroidered veil" is torn away the better. +Such a deep social wound exists in France; we wish its cure, as we +wish the health of all nations and of all men; so far indeed would we +"recoil towards a state of nature." We believe that nature wills +marriage and parentage to be kept sacred. The fact of their not being +so is to us not a pleasant subject of jest; and we should really pity +the first lady of England for injury here, though she be a queen; +while the ladies of the French court, or of Parisian society, if they +willingly lend themselves to be the subject of this style of jest, or +find it agreeable when made, must be to us the cause both of pity, and +disgust. We are not unaware of the great and beautiful qualities +native to the French--of their chivalry, their sweetness of temper, +their rapid, brilliant and abundant genius. We would wish to see these +qualities restored to their native lustre, and not receive the base +alloy which has long stained the virginity of the gold. + + + + +ON BOOKS OF TRAVEL. + +[Footnote: It need not be said, probably, that +Margaret Fuller did not think the fact that books of travel by women +have generally been piquant and lively rather than discriminating and +instructive, a result of their nature, and therefore unavoidable; on +the contrary, she regarded woman as naturally more penetrating than +man, and the fact that in journeying she would see more of home-life +than he, would give her a great advantage,--but she did believe woman +needed a wider culture, and then she would not fail to _excel_ in +writing books of travels. The merits now in such works she considered +striking and due to woman's natural quickness and availing herself of +all her facilities, and any deficiencies simply proved the need of a +broader education.--[EDIT.]] + +Among those we have, the best, as to observation of particulars and +lively expression, are by women. They are generally ill prepared as +regards previous culture, and their scope is necessarily narrower than +that of men, but their tact and quickness help them a great deal. You +can see their minds grow by what they feed on, when they travel. There +are many books of travel, by women, that are, at least, entertaining, +and contain some penetrating and just observations. There has, however, +been none since Lady Mary Wortley Montague, with as much talent, +liveliness, and preparation to observe in various ways, as she had. + +A good article appeared lately in one of the English periodicals, +headed by a long list of travels by women. It was easy to observe that +the personality of the writer was the most obvious thing in each and +all of these books, and that, even in the best of them, you travelled +with the writer as a charming or amusing companion, rather than as an +accomplished or instructed guide. + + + + +REVIEW OF "MEMOIRS AND ESSAYS, BY MRS. JAMESON." + + +Mrs. Jameson appears to be growing more and more desperately modest, +if we may judge from the motto: + + "What if the little rain should say, + 'So small a drop as I + Can ne'er refresh the thirsty plain,-- + I'll tarry in the sky'" + + +and other superstitious doubts and disclaimers proffered in the course +of the volume. We thought the time had gone by when it was necessary +to plead "request of friends" for printing, and that it was understood +now-a-days that, from the facility of getting thoughts into print, +literature has become not merely an archive for the preservation of +great thoughts, but a means of general communication between all +classes of minds, and all grades of culture. + +If writers write much that is good, and write it well, they are read +much and long; if the reverse, people simply pass them by, and go in +search of what is more interesting. There needs be no great fuss about +publishing or not publishing. Those who forbear may rather be +considered the vain ones, who wish to be distinguished among the +crowd. Especially this extreme modesty looks superfluous in a person +who knows her thoughts have been received with interest for ten or +twelve years back. We do not like this from Mrs. Jameson, because we +think she would be amazed if others spoke of her as this little humble +flower, doubtful whether it ought to raise its head to the light. She +should leave such affectations to her aunts; they were the fashion in +their day. + +It is very true, however, that she should _not_ have published +the very first paragraph in her book, which presents an inaccuracy and +shallowness of thought quite amazing in a person of her fine +perceptions, talent and culture. We allude to the contrast she +attempts to establish between Raphael and Titian, in placing mind in +contradistinction to beauty, as if beauty were merely physical. Of +course she means no such thing; but the passage means this or nothing, +and, as an opening to a paper on art, is indeed reprehensible and +fallacious. + +The rest of this paper, called the House of Titian, is full of +pleasant chat, though some of the judgments--that passed on +Canaletti's pictures, for instance--are opposed to those of persons of +the purest taste; and in other respects, such as in speaking of the +railroad to Venice, Mrs. Jameson is much less wise than those over +whom she assumes superiority. The railroad will destroy Venice; the +two things cannot coexist; and those who do not look upon that +wondrous dream in this age, will, probably, find only vestiges of its +existence. + +The picture of Adelaide Kemble is very pretty, though there is an +attempt of a sort too common with Mrs. Jameson to make more of the +subject than it deserves. Adelaide Kemble was not the true artist, or +she could not so soon or so lightly have stept into another sphere. +It is enough to paint her as a lovely woman, and a woman-genius. The +true artist cannot forswear his vocation; Heaven does not permit it; +the attempt makes him too unhappy, nor will he form ties with those +who can consent to such sacrilege. Adelaide Kemble loved art, but was +not truly an artist. + +The "Xanthian Marbles," and "Washington Allston," are very pleasing +papers. The most interesting part, however, are the sentences copied +from Mr. Allston. These have his chaste, superior tone. We copy some +of them. + +"What _light_ is in the natural world, such is _fame_ in the +intellectual,--both requiring an _atmosphere_ in order to become +perceptible. Hence the fame of Michel Angelo is to some minds a +nonentity; even as the Sun itself would be invisible _in vacuo_" + +(A very pregnant statement, containing the true reason why "no man is +a hero to his valet de chambre.") + +"Fame does not depend on the will of any man; but reputation may be +given and taken away; for fame is the sympathy of kindred intellects, +and sympathy is not a subject of _willing_; while reputation, +having its source in the popular voice, is a sentence which may be +altered or suppressed at pleasure. Reputation, being essentially +contemporaneous, is always at the mercy of the envious and ignorant. +But Fame, whose very birth is posthumous, and which is only known to +exist by the echoes of its footsteps through congenial minds, can +neither be increased nor diminished by any degree of wilfulness." + +"An original mind is rarely understood until it has been +_reflected_ from some half-dozen congenial with it; so averse are +men to admitting the true in an unusual form; while any novelty, +however fantastic, however false, is greedily swallowed. Nor is this +to be wondered at, for all truth demands a response, and few people +care to _think_, yet they must have something to supply the place +of thought. Every mind would appear original if every man had the +power of projecting his own into the minds of others." + +"All effort at originality must end either in the quaint or monstrous; +for no man knows himself as on original; he can only believe it on the +report of others to whom he is made known, as he is by the projecting +power before spoken of." + +"There is an essential meanness in wishing to get the better of any +one. The only competition worthy of a wise man is with himself." + +"Reverence is an ennobling sentiment; it is felt to be degrading only +by the vulgar mind, which would escape the sense of its own littleness +by elevating itself into the antagonist of what is above it." + +"He that has no pleasure in looking up is not fit to look down; of +such minds are the mannerists in art, and in the world--the tyrants of +all sorts." + +"Make no man your idol; for the best man must have faults, and his +faults will naturally become yours, in addition to your own. This is +as true in art as in morals." + +"The Devil's heartiest laugh is at a detracting witticism. Hence the +phrase 'devilish good' has sometimes a literal meaning." + +"Woman's Mission and Woman's Position" is an excellent paper, in which +plain truths ere spoken with an honorable straight-forwardness, and a +great deal of good feeling. We despise the woman who, knowing such +facts, is afraid to speak of them; yet we honor one, too, who does the +plain right thing, for she exposes herself to the assaults of +vulgarity, in a way painful to a person who has not strength to find +shelter and repose in her motives. We recommend this paper to the +consideration of all those, the unthinking, wilfully unseeing million, +who are in the habit of talking of "Woman's sphere," as if it really +were, at present, for the majority, one of protection, and the gentle +offices of home. The rhetorical gentlemen and silken dames, who, quite +forgetting their washerwomen, their seamstresses, and the poor +hirelings for the sensual pleasures of Man, that jostle them daily in +the streets, talk as if women need be fitted for no other chance than +that of growing like cherished flowers in the garden of domestic love, +are requested to look at this paper, in which the state of women, both +in the manufacturing and agricultural districts of England, is exposed +with eloquence, and just inferences drawn. + +"This, then, is what I mean when I speak of the anomalous condition of +women in these days. I would point out, as a primary source of +incalculable mischief, the contradiction between her assumed and her +real position; between what is called her proper sphere by the laws of +God and Nature, and what has become her real sphere by the laws of +necessity, and through the complex relations of artificial existence. +In the strong language of Carlyle, I would say that 'Here is a lie +standing up in the midst of society.' I would say 'Down with it, even +to the ground;' for while this perplexing and barbarous anomaly +exists, fretting like an ulcer at the very heart of society, all new +specifics and palliatives are in vain. The question must be settled +one way or another; either let the man in all the relations of life be +held the natural guardian of the woman, constrained to fulfil that +trust, responsible in society for her well-being and her maintenance; +or, if she be liable to be thrust from the sanctuary of home, to +provide for herself through the exercise of such faculties as God has +given her, let her at least have fair play; let it not be avowed, in +the same breath that protection is necessary to her, and that it is +refused her; and while we send her forth into the desert, and bind the +burthen on her back, and put the staff in her hand, let not her steps +be beset, her limbs fettered, and her eyes blindfolded." Amen. + +The sixth and last of these papers, on the relative social position of +"mothers and governesses," exhibits in true and full colors a state of +things in England, beside which the custom in some parts of China of +drowning female infants looks mild, generous, and refined;--an +accursed state of things, beneath whose influence nothing can, and +nothing ought to thrive. Though this paper, of which we have not +patience to speak further at this moment, is valuable from putting the +facts into due relief, it is very inferior to the other, and shows the +want of thoroughness and depth in Mrs. Jameson's intellect. She has +taste, feeling and knowledge, but she cannot think out a subject +thoroughly, and is unconsciously tainted and hampered by +conventionalities. Her advice to the governesses reads like a piece of +irony, but we believe it was not meant as such. Advise them to be +burnt at the stake at once, rather than submit to this slow process of +petrifaction. She is as bad as the Reports of the "Society for the +relief of distressed and dilapidated Governesses." We have no more +patience. We must go to England ourselves, and see these victims under +the water torture. Till then, a Dieu! + + + + +WOMAN'S INFLUENCE OVER THE INSANE. + + +In reference to what is said of entrusting an infant to the insane, we +must relate a little tale which touched the heart in childhood from +the eloquent lips of the mother. + +The minister of the village had a son of such uncommon powers that the +slender means on which the large family lived were strained to the +utmost to send him to college. The boy prized the means of study as +only those under such circumstances know how to prize them; indeed, +far beyond their real worth; since, by excessive study, prolonged +often at the expense of sleep, he made himself insane. + +All may conceive the feelings of the family when their star returned +to them again, shorn of its beams; their pride, their hard-earned +hope, sunk to a thing so hopeless, so helpless, that there could be +none so poor to do him reverence. But they loved him, and did what the +ignorance of the time permitted. There was little provision then for +the treatment of such cases, and what there was was of a kind that +they shrunk from resorting to, if it could be avoided. They kept him +at home, giving him, during the first months, the freedom of the +house; but on his making an attempt to kill his father, and confessing +afterwards that his old veneration had, as is so often the case in +these affections, reacted morbidly to its opposite, so that he never +saw a once-loved parent turn his back without thinking how he could +rush upon him and do him an injury, they felt obliged to use harsher +measures, and chained him to a post in one room of the house. + +There, so restrained, without exercise or proper medicine, the fever +of insanity came upon him in its wildest form. He raved, shrieked, +struck about him, and tore off all the raiment that was put upon him. + +One of his sisters, named Lucy, whom he had most loved when well, had +now power to soothe him. He would listen to her voice, and give way to +a milder mood when she talked or sang. But this favorite sister +married, went to her new home, and the maniac became wilder, more +violent than ever. + +After two or three years, she returned, bringing with her on infant. +She went into the room where the naked, blaspheming, raging object was +confined. He knew her instantly, and felt joy at seeing her. + +"But, Lucy," said he, suddenly, "is that your baby you have in your +arms? Give it to me, I want to hold it!" + +A pang of dread and suspicion shot through the young mother's +heart,--she turned pale and faint. Her brother was not at that moment +so mad that he could not understand her fears. + +"Lucy," said he, "do you suppose I would hurt _your_ child?" + +His sister had strength of mind and of heart; she could not resist the +appeal, and hastily placed the child in his arms. Poor fellow! he held +it awhile, stroked its little face, and melted into tears, the first +he had shed since his insanity. + +For some time after that he was better, and probably, had he been +under such intelligent care as may be had at present, the crisis might +have been followed up, and a favorable direction given to his disease. +But the subject was not understood then, and, having once fallen mad, +he was doomed to live and die a madman. + + + + +FROM A CRITICISM ON BROWNING'S POEMS. + + +* * * * "The return of the Druses," a "Blot in the 'Scutcheon," and +"Colombo's Birthday," all have the same originality of conception, +delicate penetration into the mysteries of human feeling, atmospheric +individuality, and skill in picturesque detail. All three exhibit very +high and pure ideas of Woman, and a knowledge, very rare in man, of +the ways in which what is peculiar in her office and nature works. Her +loftiest elevation does not, in his eyes, lift her out of nature. She +becomes, not a mere saint, but the goddess-queen of nature. Her purity +is not cold, like marble, but the healthy, gentle energy of the +flower, instinctively rejecting what is not fit for it, with no need +of disdain to dig a gulf between it and the lower forms of creation. +Her office to man is that of the muse, inspiring him to all good +thoughts and deeds. The passions that sometimes agitate these maidens +of his verso are the surprises of noble hearts unprepared for evil; +and even their mistakes cannot cost bitter tears to their attendant +angels. + +The girl in the "Return of the Druses" is the sort of nature Byron +tried to paint in Myrrha. But Byron could only paint women as they +were to him. Browning can show what they are in themselves. In "A Blot +in the 'Scutcheon," we see a lily, storm-struck, half-broken, but +still a lily. In "Colombe's Birthday," a queenly rose-bud, which +expands into the full-glowing rose before our eyes. It is marvellous +in this drama how the characters are unfolded to us by the crisis, +which not only exhibits, but calls to life, the higher passions and +the thoughts which were latent within them. + +We bless the poet for these pictures of women, which, however the +common tone of society, by the grossness and levity of the remarks +bandied from tongue to tongue, would seem to say to the contrary, +declare there is still in the breasts of men a capacity for pure and +exalting passion,--for immortal tenderness. + +Of Browning's delicate sheaths of meaning within meaning, which must +be opened slowly, petal by petal, as we seek the heart of a flower, +and the spirit-like, distant breathings of his lute, familiar with the +secrets of shores distant and enchanted, a sense can only be gained by +reading him a great deal; and we wish "Bells and Pomegranates" might +be brought within the reach of all who have time and soul to wait and +listen for such! + + + + +CHRISTMAS. + + +Our festivals come rather too near together, since we have so few of +them;--Thanksgiving, Christmas-day, New-Years'-day, and then none +again till July. We know not but these four, with the addition of a +"day set apart for fasting and prayer," might answer the purposes of +rest and edification as well as a calendar full of saints' days, if +they were observed in a better spirit. But, Thanksgiving is devoted to +good dinners; Christmas and New-Years' days to making presents and +compliments; Fast-day to playing at cricket and other games, and the +Fourth of July to boasting of the past, rather than to plans how to +deserve its benefits and secure its fruits. + +We value means of marking time by appointed days, because man, on one +side of his nature so ardent and aspiring, is on the other so indolent +and slippery a being, that he needs incessant admonitions to redeem +the time. Time flows on steadily, whether _he_ regards it or not; +yet, unless _he keep time_, there is no music in that flow. The +sands drop with inevitable speed; yet each waits long enough to +receive, if it be ready, the intellectual touch that should turn it to +a sand of gold. + +Time, says the Grecian fable, is the parent of Power, Power is the +father of Genius and Wisdom. Time, then, is grandfather of the noblest +of the human family; and we must respect the aged sire whom we see on +the frontispiece of the almanacs, and believe his scythe was meant to +mow down harvests ripened for an immortal use. + +Yet the best provision made by the mind of society at large for these +admonitions soon loses its efficacy, and requires that individual +earnestness, individual piety, should continually reinforce the most +beautiful form. The world has never seen arrangements which might more +naturally offer good suggestions than those of the Church of Rome. The +founders of that church stood very near a history radiant at every +page with divine light. All their rites and ceremonial days illustrate +facts of an universal interest. But the life with which piety first, +and afterwards the genius of great artists, invested these symbols, +waned at last, except to a thoughtful few. Reverence was forgotten in +the multitude of genuflexions; the rosary became a string of beads +rather than a series of religious meditations; and the "glorious +company of saints and martyrs" were not regarded so much as the +teachers of heavenly truth, as intercessors to obtain for their +votaries the temporal gifts they craved. + +Yet we regret that some of those symbols had not been more reverenced +by Protestants, as the possible occasion of good thoughts, and, among +others, we regret that the day set apart to commemorate the birth of +Jesus should have been stript, even by those who observe it, of many +impressive and touching accessories. + +If ever there was an occasion on which the arts could become all but +omnipotent in the service of a holy thought, it is this of the birth +of the child Jesus. In the palmy days of the Catholic religion they +may be said to have wrought miracles in its behalf; and in our colder +time, when we rather reflect that light from a different point of view +than transport ourselves into it, who, that has an eye and ear +faithful to the soul, is not conscious of inexhaustible benefits from +some of the works by which sublime geniuses have expressed their +ideas?--in the adorations of the Magi and the Shepherds, in the Virgin +with the infant Jesus, or that work which expresses what Christendom +at large has not begun to realize,--that work which makes us +conscious, as we listen, why the soul of man was thought worthy and +able to upbear a cross of such dreadful weight,--the Messiah of +Handel. + +Christmas would seem to be the day peculiarly sacred to children; and +something of this feeling is beginning to show itself among us, though +rather from German influence than of native growth. The ever-green +tree is often reared for the children on Christmas evening, and its +branches cluster with little tokens that may, at least, give them a +sense that the world is rich, and that there are some in it who care +to bless them. It is a charming sight to see their glistening eyes, +and well worth much trouble in preparing the Christmas-tree. + +Yet, on this occasion, as on all others, we should like to see +pleasure offered to them in a form less selfish than it is. When shall +we read of banquets prepared for the halt, the lame, and the blind, on +the day that is said to have brought _their_ friend into the +world? When will children be taught to ask all the cold and ragged +little ones whom they have seen during the day wistfully gazing at the +shop-windows, to share the joys of Christmas-eve? + +We borrow the Christmas-tree from Germany; might we but borrow with it +that feeling which pervades all their stories, about the influence of +the Christ-child, and has, I doubt not (for the spirit of literature +is always, though refined, the essence of popular life), pervaded the +conduct of children there. + +We will mention two of these as happily expressive of different sides +of the desirable character. One is a legend of the saint Hermann +Joseph. The legend runs that this saint, when a little boy, passed +daily by a niche where was an image of the Virgin and Child, and +delighted there to pay his devotions. His heart was so drawn towards +the holy child that one day, having received what seemed to him a gift +truly precious, a beautiful red and yellow apple, he ventured to offer +it, with his prayer. To his unspeakable delight the child put forth +his hand and took the apple. After that day, never was a gift bestowed +upon the little Hermann, that was not carried to the same place. He +needed nothing for himself, but dedicated all his childish goods to +the altar. + +After a while he was in trouble. His father, who was a poor man, found +it necessary to take him from school, and bind him to a trade. He +communicated his woes to his friends of the niche, and the Virgin +comforted him like a mother, and bestowed on him money, by means of +which he rose to be a learned and tender Shepherd of men. + +Another still more touching story is that of the holy Rupert. Rupert +was the only child of a princely house, and had something to give +besides apples. But his generosity and human love were such that, as a +child, he could never see poor children suffering without despoiling +himself of all he had with him in their behalf. His mother was, at +first, displeased with this; but when he replied, "They are thy +children too," her reproofs yielded to tears. + +One time, when he had given away his coat to a poor child, he got +wearied and belated on his homeward way. He lay down a while and fell +asleep. Then he dreamed that he was on a river-shore, and saw a mild +and noble old man bathing many children. After he had plunged them +into the water, he would place them on a beautiful island, where they +looked white and glorious as little angels. Rupert was seized with a +strong desire to join them, and begged the old man to bathe him also +in the stream. But he was answered, "It is not yet time." Just then a +rainbow spanned the island, and in its arch was enthroned the child +Jesus, dressed in a coat that Rupert knew to be his own. And the child +said to the others, "See this coat; it is one which my brother Rupert +has just sent to me. He has given us many gifts from his love; shall +we not ask him to join us here?" And they shouted a musical "Yes!" and +Rupert started out of his dream. But he had lain too long on the damp +bank of the river without his coat, and cold and fever soon sent him +to join the band of his brothers in their home. + +These are legends, superstitious, you will say. But, in casting aside +the shell, have we retained the kernel? The image of the child Jesus +is not seen in the open street. Does his heart find other means to +express itself there? Protestantism does not mean, we suppose, to +deaden the spirit in excluding the form. + +The thought of Jesus, as a child, has great weight with children who +have learned to think of him at all. In thinking of him they form an +image of all that the morning of a pure and fervent life should be and +bring. + +In former days I knew a boy-artist whose genius, at that time, showed +high promise. He was not more than fourteen years old--a pale, slight +boy, with a beaming eye. The hopes and sympathy of friends, gained by +his talent, had furnished him with a studio and orders for some +pictures. He had picked up from the streets a boy, still younger and +poorer than himself, to take care of the room and prepare his colors, +and the two boys were as content in their relation as Michael Angelo +with his Urbino. If you went there, you found exposed to view many +pretty pictures--"A Girl with a Dove," "The Guitar-player," and such +subjects as are commonly supposed to interest at his age. But, hid in +a corner, and never shown, unless to the beggar-page or some most +confidential friend, was the real object of his love and pride, the +slowly-growing work of secret hours. The subject of this picture was +Christ teaching the Doctors. And in those doctors he had expressed all +he had already observed of the pedantry and shallow conceit of those +in whom mature years have not unfolded the soul: and in the child, all +he felt that early youth should be and seek, though, alas! his own +feet failed him on the difficult road. This one record of the youth of +Jesus, had, at least, been much to his mind. + +In earlier days the little saints thought they best imitated the +Emanuel by giving apples and cents; but we know not why, in our age, +that esteems itself so much enlightened, they should not become also +the givers of spiritual gifts. We see in them, continually, impulses +that only require a good direction to effect infinite good. See the +little girls at work for foreign missions; that is not useless; they +devote the time to a purpose that is not selfish; the horizon of their +thoughts is extended. But they are perfectly capable of becoming +home-missionaries as well. The principle of stewardship would make +them so. + +I have seen a little girl of thirteen, who had much service, too, to +do for a hard-working mother, in the midst of a circle of poor +children whom she gathered daily to a morning school. She took them +from the door-steps and the gutters; she washed their faces and hands; +she taught them to read and sew, and told them stories that had +delighted her own infancy. In her face, though in feature and +complexion plain, was something already of a Madonna sweetness, and it +had no way eclipsed the gayety of childhood. + +I have seen a boy, scarce older, brought up for some time with the +sons of laborers, who, so soon as he found himself possessed of +superior advantages, thought not of surpassing others, but of +excelling that he might be able to impart; and he was able to do it. +If the other boys had less leisure, and could pay for less +instruction, they did not suffer by it. He could not be happy unless +they also could enjoy Milton, and pass from nature to natural +philosophy. He performed, though in a childish way, and in no Grecian +garb, the part of Apollo amidst the herdsmen of Admetus. + +The cause of education would be indefinitely furthered if, in addition +to formal means, there were but this principle awakened in the hearts +of the young, that what they have they must bestow. All are not +natural instructors, but a large proportion are; and those who do +possess such a talent are the best possible teachers to those a little +younger than themselves. Many have more patience with the difficulties +they have lately left behind, and enjoy their power of assisting more +than those further removed in age and knowledge do. + +Then the intercourse may be far more congenial and profitable than +where the teacher receives for hire all sorts of pupils as they are +sent him by their guardians. Here be need only choose those who have a +predisposition for what he is best able to teach; and, as I would have +the so-called higher instruction as much diffused in this way as the +lower, there would be a chance of awakening all the power that now +lies latent. + +If a girl, for instance, who has only a passable talent for music, but +who, from the advantage of social position, has been able to gain +thorough instruction, felt it her duty to teach whomsoever she know +that had a talent without money to cultivate it, the good is obvious. + +Those who are learning, receive an immediate benefit by the effort to +rearrange and interpret what they learn; so the use of this justice +would be two-fold. + +Some efforts are made here and there; nay, sometimes there are those +who can say they have returned usury for every gift of fate; and would +others make the same experiments, they might find Utopia not so far +off as the children of this world, wise in securing their own selfish +ease, would persuade us it must always be. + +We have hinted what sort of Christmas-box we would wish for the +children; it must be one as full, as that of the Christ-child must be, +of the pieces of silver that were lost and are found. But Christmas +with its peculiar associations has deep interest for men and women no +less. At that time thus celebrated, a pure woman saw in her child what +the Son of man should be as a child of God. She anticipated fur him a +life of glory to God, peace and good-will towards men. In any young +mother's heart, who has any purity of heart, the same feelings arise. +But most of these mothers carelessly let them go without obeying their +instructions. If they did not, we should see other children, other men +than now throng our streets. The boy could not invariably disappoint +the mother, the man the wife, who steadily demanded of him such a +career. + +And Man looks upon Woman, in this relation, always as he should. Does +he see in her a holy mother, worthy to guard the infancy of an +immortal soul? Then she assumes in his eyes those traits which the +Romish church loved to revere in Mary. Frivolity, base appetite, +contempt, are exorcised, and Man and Woman appear again, in unprofaned +connection, as brother and sister, children and servants of one Divine +Love, and pilgrims to a common aim. + +Were all this right in the private sphere, the public would soon right +itself also, and the nations of Christendom might join in a +celebration such as "Kings and Prophets waited for," and so many +martyrs died to achieve, of Christ-mass. + + + + +CHILDREN'S BOOKS. + + +There is no branch of literature that better deserves cultivation, and +none that so little obtains it from worthy hands, as this of +Children's Books. It requires a peculiar development of the genius and +sympathies, rare among men of factitious life, who are not men enough +to revive with force and beauty the thoughts and scenes of childhood. + +It is all idle to talk baby-talk, and give shallow accounts of deep +things, thinking thereby to interest the child. He does not like to be +too much puzzled; but it is simplicity be wants, not silliness. We +fancy their angels, who are always waiting in the courts of our +Father, smile somewhat sadly on the ignorance of those who would feed +them on milk and water too long, and think it would be quite as well +to give them a stone. + +There is too much amongst us of the French way of palming off false +accounts of things on children, "to do them good," and showing nature +to them in a magic lantern "purified for the use of childhood," and +telling stories of sweet little girls and brave little boys,--O, all +so good, or so bad! and above all, so _little_, and everything +about them so little! Children accustomed to move in full-sized +apartments, and converse with full-grown men and women, do not need so +much of this baby-house style in their literature. They like, or would +like if they could get them, better things much more. They like the +_Arabian Nights_, and _Pilgrim's Progress_, and _Bunyan's +Emblems_, and _Shakspeare_, and the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_,--at least, +they used to like them; and if they do not now, it is because their +taste has been injured by so many sugar-plums. The books that were +written in the childhood of nations suit an uncorrupted childhood now. +They are simple, picturesque, robust. Their moral is not forced, nor +is the truth veiled with a well-meant but sure-to-fail hypocrisy. +Sometimes they are not moral at all,--only free plays of the fancy +and intellect. These, also, the child needs, just as the infant needs +to stretch its limbs, and grasp at objects it cannot hold. We have +become so fond of the moral, that we forget the nature in which it +must find its root; so fond of instruction, that we forget development. + +Where ballads, legends, fairy-tales, are moral, the morality is +heart-felt; if instructive, it is from the healthy common sense of +mankind, and not for the convenience of nursery rule, nor the "peace +of schools and families." + +O, that winter, freezing, snow-laden winter, which ushered in our +eighth birthday! There, in the lonely farm-house, the day's work done, +and the bright woodfire all in a glow, we were permitted to slide back +the panel of the cupboard in the wall,--most fascinating object still +in our eyes, with which no stateliest alcoved library can vie,--and +there saw, neatly ranged on its two shelves, not--praised be our natal +star!--_Peter Parley_, nor a History of the Good Little Boy who +never took anything that did not belong to him; but the +_Spectator_, _Telemachus_, _Goldsmith's Animated +Nature_, and the _Iliad_. + +Forms of gods and heroes more distinctly seen, and with eyes of nearer +love then than now!--our true uncle, Sir Roger de Coverley, and ye, +fair realms of Nature's history, whose pictures we tormented all grown +persons to illustrate with more knowledge, still more,--how we bless +the chance that gave to us your great realities, which life has daily +helped us, helps us still, to interpret, instead of thin and baseless +fictions that would all this time have hampered us, though with only +cobwebs! + +Children need some childish talk, some childish play, some childish +books. But they also need, and need more, difficulties to overcome, +and a sense of the vast mysteries which the progress of their +intelligence shall aid them to unravel. This sense is naturally their +delight, as it is their religion, and it must not be dulled by +premature explanations or subterfuges of any kind. There has been too +much of this lately. + +Miss Edgeworth is an excellent writer for children. She is a child +herself, as she writes, nursed anew by her own genius. It is not by +imitating, but by reproducing childhood, that the writer becomes its +companion. Then, indeed, we have something especially good, for, + + "Like wine, well-kept and long, + Heady, nor harsh, nor strong, + With each succeeding year is quaffed, + A richer, purer, mellower draught." + + +Miss Edgeworth's grown people live naturally with the children; they +do not talk to them continually about angels or flowers, but about the +things that interest themselves. They do not force them forward, nor +keep them back. The relations are simple and honorable; all ages in +the family seem at home under one roof and sheltered by one care. + +The _Juvenile Miscellany_, formerly published by Mrs. Child, was +much and deservedly esteemed by children. It was a healthy, cheerful, +natural and entertaining companion to them. + +We should censure too monotonously tender a manner in what is written +for children, and too constant an attention to moral influence. We +should prefer a larger proportion of the facts of natural or human +history, and that they should speak for themselves. + + + + +WOMAN IN POVERTY. + + +Woman, even less than Man, is what she should be as a whole. She is +not that self-centred being, full of profound intuitions, angelic +love, and flowing poesy, that she should be. Yet there are +circumstances in which the native force and purity of her being teach +her how to conquer where the restless impatience of Man brings defeat, +and leaves him crushed and bleeding on the field. + +Images rise to mind of calm strength, of gentle wisdom learning from +every turn of adverse fate,--of youthful tenderness and faith undimmed +to the close of life, which redeem humanity and make the heart glow +with fresh courage as we write. They are mostly from obscure corners +and very private walks. There was nothing shining, nothing of an +obvious and sounding heroism to make their conduct doubtful, by +tainting their motives with vanity. Unknown they lived, untrumpeted +they died. Many hearts were warmed and fed by them, but perhaps no +mind but our own ever consciously took account of their virtues. + +Had Art but the power adequately to tell their simple virtues, and to +cast upon them the light which, shining through those marked and faded +faces, foretold the glories of a second spring! The tears of holy +emotion which fell from those eyes have seemed to us pearls beyond all +price; or rather, whose price will be paid only when, beyond the +grave, they enter those better spheres in whose faith they felt and +acted here. + +From this private gallery we will, for the present, bring forth but +one picture. That of a Black Nun was wont to fetter the eyes of +visitors in the royal galleries of France, and my Sister of Mercy, +too, is of that complexion. The old woman was recommended as a +laundress by my friend, who had long prized her. I was immediately +struck with the dignity and propriety of her manner. In the depth of +winter she brought herself the heavy baskets through the slippery +streets; and, when I asked her why she did not employ some younger +person to do what was so entirely disproportioned to her strength, +simply said, "she lived alone, and could not afford to hire an +errand-boy." "It was hard for her?" "No, she was fortunate in being +able to get work at her age, when others could do it better. Her +friends were very good to procure it for her." "Had she a comfortable +home?" "Tolerably so,--she should not need one long." "Was that a +thought of joy to her?" "Yes, for she hoped to see again the husband +and children from whom she had long been separated." + +Thus much in answer to the questions, but at other times the little +she said was on general topics. It was not from her that I learnt how +the great idea of Duty had held her upright through a life of +incessant toil, sorrow, bereavement; and that not only she had +remained upright, but that her character had been constantly +progressive. Her latest act had been to take home a poor sick girl who +had no home of her own, and could not bear the idea of dying in a +hospital, and maintain and nurse her through the last weeks of her +life. "Her eye-sight was failing, and she should not be able to work +much longer,--but, then, God would provide. _Somebody_ ought to +see to the poor, motherless girl." + +It was not merely the greatness of the act, for one in such +circumstances, but the quiet matter-of-course way in which it was +done, that showed the habitual tone of the mind, and made us feel that +life could hardly do more for a human being than to make him or her +the _somebody_ that is daily so deeply needed, to represent the +right, to do the plain right thing. + +"God will provide." Yes, it is the poor who feel themselves near to +the God of love. Though he slay them, still do they trust him. + +"I hope," said I to a poor apple-woman, who had been drawn on to +disclose a tale of distress that, almost in the mere hearing, made me +weary of life, "I hope I may yet see you in a happier condition." +"With God's help," she replied, with a smile that Raphael would have +delighted to transfer to his canvas; a Mozart, to strains of angelic +sweetness. All her life she had seemed an outcast child; still she +leaned upon a Father's love. + +The dignity of a state like this may vary its form in, more or less +richness and beauty of detail, but here is the focus of what makes +life valuable. It is this spirit which makes poverty the best servant +to the ideal of human nature. I am content with this type, and will +only quote, in addition, a ballad I found in a foreign periodical, +translated from Chamisso, and which forcibly recalled my own laundress +as an equally admirable sample of the same class, the Ideal Poor, +which we need for our consolation, so long as there must be real +poverty. + + "THE OLD WASHERWOMAN. + + "Among yon lines her hands have laden, + A laundress with white hair appears, + Alert as many a youthful maiden, + Spite of her five-and-seventy years; + Bravely she won those white hairs, still + Eating the bread hard toll obtained her, + And laboring truly to fulfil + The duties to which God ordained her. + + "Once she was young and full of gladness, + She loved and hoped,--was wooed and won; + Then came the matron's cares,--the sadness + No loving heart on earth may shun. + Three babes she bore her mate; she prayed + Beside his sick-bed,--he was taken; + She saw him in the church-yard laid, + Yet kept her faith and hope unshaken. + + "The task her little ones of feeding + She met unfaltering from that hour; + She taught them thrift and honest breeding, + Her virtues were their worldly dower. + To seek employment, one by one, + Forth with her blessing they departed, + And she was in the world alone-- + Alone and old, but still high-hearted. + + "With frugal forethought; self-denying, + She gathered coin, and flax she bought, + And many a night her spindle plying, + Good store of fine-spun thread she wrought. + The thread was fashioned in the loom; + She brought it home, and calmly seated + To work, with not a thought of gloom, + Her decent grave-clothes she completed. + + "She looks on them with fond elation; + They are her wealth, her treasure rare, + Her age's pride and consolation, + Hoarded with all a miser's care. + She dons the sark each Sabbath day, + To hear the Word that falleth never! + Well-pleased she lays it then away + Till she shall sleep in it forever! + + "Would that my spirit witness bore me. + That, like this woman, I had done + The work my Master put before me + Duly from morn till set of sun! + Would that life's cup had been by me + Quaffed in such wise and happy measure, + And that I too might finally + Look on my shroud with such meek pleasure!" + + +Such are the noble of the earth. They do not repine, they do not +chafe, even in the inmost heart. They feel that, whatever else may be +denied or withdrawn, there remains the better part, which cannot be +taken from them. This line exactly expresses the woman I knew:-- + + "Alone and old, but still high-hearted." + + +Will any, poor or rich, fail to feel that the children of such a +parent were rich when + + "Her virtues were their worldly dower"? + + +Will any fail to bow the heart in assent to the aspiration, + + "Would that my spirit witness bore me + That, like this woman, I had done + The work my Maker put before me + Duly from morn till set of sun"? + + +May not that suffice to any man's ambition? + + + + + + +[Perhaps one of the most perplexing problems which beset Woman in her +domestic sphere relates to the proper care and influence which she +should exert over the domestic aids she employs. As these are, and +long must be, taken chiefly from one nation, the following pages +treating of the Irish Character, and the true relation between +Employer and Employed, can hardly fail to be of interest. They +contain, too, some considerations which Woman as well as Man is too +much in danger of overlooking, and which seem, even more than when +first urged, to be timely in this reactionary to-day.--ED.] + + +THE IRISH CHARACTER. + + +In one of the eloquent passages quoted in the "_Tribune_" of +Wednesday, under the head, "Spirit of the Irish Press," we find these +words: + +"Domestic love, almost morbid from external suffering, prevents him +(the Irishman) from becoming a fanatic and a misanthrope, and +reconciles him to life." + +This recalled to our mind the many touching instances known to us of +such traits among the Irish we have seen here. We have known instances +of morbidness like this. A girl sent "home," after she was well +established herself, for a young brother, of whom she was particularly +fond. He came, and shortly after died. She was so overcome by his loss +that she took poison. The great poet of serious England says, and we +believe it to be his serious thought though laughingly said, "Men have +died, and worms have eaten them, but not for love." Whether or not +death may follow from the loss of a lover or child, we believe that +among no people but the Irish would it be upon the loss of a young +brother. + +Another poor young woman, in the flower of her youth, denied herself, +not only every pleasure, but almost the necessaries of life to save +the sum she thought ought to be hers before sending to Ireland for a +widowed mother. Just as she was on the point of doing so she heard +that her mother had died fifteen months before. The keenness and +persistence of her grief defy description. With a delicacy of feeling +which showed the native poetry of the Irish mind, she dwelt, most of +all, upon the thought that while she was working, and pinching, and +dreaming of happiness with her mother, it was indeed but a dream, and +that cherished parent lay still and cold beneath the ground. She felt +fully the cruel cheat of Fate. "Och! and she was dead all those times +I was thinking of her!" was the deepest note of her lament. + +They are able, however, to make the sacrifice of even these intense +family affections in a worthy cause. We knew a woman who postponed +sending for her only child, whom she had left in Ireland, for years, +while she maintained a sick friend who had no one else to help her. + +The poetry of which I have spoken shows itself even here, where they +are separated from old romantic associations, and begin the new life +in the New World by doing all its drudgery. We know flights of poetry +repeated to us by those present at their wakes,--passages of natural +eloquence, from the lamentations for the dead, more beautiful than +those recorded in the annals of Brittany or Roumelia. + +It is the same genius, so exquisitely mournful, tender, and glowing, +too, with the finest enthusiasm, that makes their national music, in +these respects, the finest in the world. It is the music of the harp; +its tones are deep and thrilling. It is the harp so beautifully +described in "The Harp of Tara's Halls," a song whose simple pathos is +unsurpassed. A feeling was never more adequately embodied. + +It is the genius which will enable Emmet's appeal to draw tears from +the remotest generations, however much they may be strangers to the +circumstances which called it forth, It is the genius which beamed in +chivalrous loveliness through each act of Lord Edward Fitzgerald,--the +genius which, ripened by English culture, favored by suitable +occasions, has shed such glory on the land which has done all it could +to quench it on the parent hearth. + +When we consider all the fire which glows so untamably in Irish veins, +the character of her people, considering the circumstances, almost +miraculous in its goodness, we cannot forbear, notwithstanding all the +temporary ills they aid in here, to give them a welcome to our shores. +Those ills we need not enumerate; they are known to all, and we rank +among them, what others would not, that by their ready service to do +all the hard work, they make it easier for the rest of the population +to grow effeminate, and help the country to grow too fast. But that is +her destiny, to grow too fast: there is no use talking against it. +Their extreme ignorance, their blind devotion to their priesthood, +their pliancy in the hands of demagogues, threaten continuance of +these ills; yet, on the other hand, we must regard them as most +valuable elements in the new race. They are looked upon with contempt +for their wont of aptitude in learning new things; their ready and +ingenious lying; their eye-service. These are the faults of an +oppressed race, which must require the aid of better circumstances +through two or three generations to eradicate. Their virtues are their +own; they are many, genuine, and deeply-rooted. Can an impartial +observer fail to admire their truth to domestic ties, their power of +generous bounty, and more generous gratitude, their indefatigable +good-humor (for ages of wrong which have driven them to so many acts +of desperation, could never sour their blood at its source), their +ready wit, their elasticity of nature? They are fundamentally one of +the best nations of the world. Would they were welcomed here, not to +work merely, but to intelligent sympathy, and efforts, both patient +and ardent, for the education of their children! No sympathy could be +better deserved, no efforts wiselier timed. Future Burkes and Currans +would know how to give thanks for them, and Fitzgeralds rise upon the +soil--which boasts the magnolia with its kingly stature and majestical +white blossoms,--to the same lofty and pure beauty. Will you not +believe it, merely because that bog-bred youth you placed in the +mud-hole tells you lies, and drinks to cheer himself in those endless +diggings? You are short-sighted, my friend; you do not look to the +future; you will not turn your head to see what may have been the +influences of the past. You have not examined your own breast to see +whether the monitor there has not commanded you to do your part to +counteract these influences; and yet the Irishman appeals to you, eye +to eye. He is very personal himself,--he expects a personal interest +from you. Nothing has been able to destroy this hope, which was the +fruit of his nature. We were much touched by O'Connell's direct appeal +to the queen, as "Lady!" But she did not listen,--and we fear few +ladies and gentlemen will till the progress of Destiny compels them. + + + + +THE IRISH CHARACTER. + + +Since the publication of a short notice under this head in the +"_Tribune_," several persons have expressed to us that their +feelings were awakened on the subject, especially as to their +intercourse with the lower Irish. Most persons have an opportunity of +becoming acquainted, if they will, with the lower classes of Irish, as +they are so much employed among us in domestic service, and other +kinds of labor. + +We feel, say these persons, the justice of what has been said as to +the duty and importance of improving these people. We have sometimes +tried; but the want of real gratitude which, in them, is associated +with such warm and wordy expressions of regard, with their +incorrigible habits of falsehood and evasion, have baffled and +discouraged us. You say their children ought to be educated; but how +can this be effected when the all but omnipotent sway of the Catholic +religion and the example of parents are both opposed to the formation +of such views and habits as we think desirable to the citizen of the +New World? + +We answer first with regard to those who have grown up in another +land, and who, soon after arriving here, are engaged in our service. + +First, as to ingratitude. We cannot but sadly smile on the remarks we +hear so often on this subject. + +Just Heaven!--and to us how liberal! which has given those who speak +thus an unfettered existence, free from religious or political +oppression; which has given them the education of intellectual and +refined intercourse with men to develop those talents which make them +rich in thoughts and enjoyment, perhaps in money, too, certainly rich +in comparison with the poor immigrants they employ,--what is thought +in thy clear light of those who expect in exchange for a few shillings +spent in presents or medicines, a few kind words, a little casual +thought or care, such a mighty payment of gratitude? Gratitude! Under +the weight of old feudalism their minds were padlocked by habit +against the light; they might be grateful then, for they thought their +lords were as gods, of another frame and spirit than theirs, and that +they had no right to have the same hopes and wants, scarcely to suffer +from the same maladies, with those creatures of silk, and velvet, and +cloth of gold. Then, the crumbs which fell from the rich man's table +might be received with gratitude, and, if any but the dogs came to +tend the beggar's sores, such might be received as angels. But the +institutions which sustained such ideas have fallen to pieces. It is +understood, even In Europe, that + + "The rank is but the guinea's stamp, + The man's the gowd for a' that, + A man's a man for a' that." + + +And being such, has a claim on this earth for something better than +the nettles of which the French peasantry made their soup, and with +which the persecuted Irish, "under hiding," turned to green the lips +white before with famine. + +And if this begins to be understood in Europe, can you suppose it is +not by those who, hearing that America opens a mother's arms with the +cry, "All men are born free and equal," rush to her bosom to be +consoled for centuries of woe, for their ignorance, their hereditary +degradation, their long memories of black bread and stripes? However +little else they may understand, believe they understand well _this +much_. Such inequalities of privilege, among men all born of one +blood, should not exist. They darkly feel that those to whom much has +been given owe to the Master an account of stewardship. They know now +that your gift is but a small portion of their right. + +And you, O giver! how did you give? With religious joy, as one who +knows that he who loves God cannot fail to love his neighbor as +himself? with joy and freedom, as one who feels that it is the highest +happiness of gift to us that we have something to give again? Didst +thou put thyself into the position of the poor man, and do for him +what thou wouldst have had one who was able to do for thee? Or, with +affability and condescending sweetness, made easy by internal delight +at thine own wondrous virtue, didst thou give five dollars to balance +five hundred spent on thyself? Did you say, "James, I shall expect you +to do right in everything, and to attend to my concerns as I should +myself; and, at the end of the quarter, I will give you my old clothes +and a new pocket-handkerchief, besides seeing that your mother is +provided with fuel against Christmas?" + +Line upon line, and precept upon precept, the tender parent expects +from the teacher to whom he confides his child; vigilance unwearied, +day and night, through long years. But he expects the raw Irish girl +or boy to correct, at a single exhortation, the habit of deceiving +those above them, which the expectation of being tyrannized over has +rooted in their race for ages. If we look fairly into the history of +their people, and the circumstances under which their own youth was +trained, we cannot expect that anything short of the most steadfast +patience and love can enlighten them as to the beauty and value of +implicit truth, and, having done so, fortify and refine them in the +practice of it. + +This we admit at the outset: First, You must be prepared for a +religious and patient treatment of these people, not merely +_un_educated, but _ill_-educated; a treatment far more religious +and patient than is demanded by your own children, if they were born +and bred under circumstances at all favorable. + +Second, Dismiss from your minds all thought of gratitude. Do what you +do for them for God's sake, and as a debt to humanity--interest to the +common creditor upon principal left in your care. Then insensibility, +forgetfulness, or relapse, will not discourage you, and you will +welcome proofs of genuine attachment to yourself chiefly as tokens +that your charge has risen into a higher state of thought and feeling, +so as to be enabled to value the benefits conferred through you. Could +we begin so, there would be hope of our really becoming the +instructors and guardians of this swarm of souls which come from their +regions of torment to us, hoping, at least, the benefits of purgatory. + +The influence of the Catholic priesthood must continue very great till +there is a complete transfusion of character in the minds of their +charge. But as the Irishman, or any other foreigner, becomes +Americanized, he will demand a new form of religion to suit his new +wants. The priest, too, will have to learn the duties of an American +citizen; he will live less and less for the church, and more for the +people, till at last, if there be Catholicism still, it will be under +Protestant influences, as begins to be the case in Germany. It will +be, not Roman, but American Catholicism; a form of worship which +relies much, perhaps, on external means and the authority of the +clergy,--for such will always be the case with religion while there +are crowds of men still living an external life, and who have not +learned to make full use of their own faculties,--but where a belief +in the benefits of confession and the power of the church, as church, +to bind and loose, atone for or decide upon sin, with similar +corruptions, must vanish in the free and searching air of a new era. + + * * * * * + +Between employer and employed there is not sufficient pains taken on +the part of the former to establish a mutual understanding. People +meet, in the relations of master and servant, who have lived in two +different worlds. In this respect we are much worse situated than the +same parties have been in Europe. There is less previous acquaintance +between the upper and lower classes. (We must, though unwillingly, use +these terms to designate the state of things as at present existing.) +Meals are taken separately; work is seldom shared; there is very +little to bring the parties together, except sometimes the farmer +works with his hired Irish laborer in the fields, or the mother keeps +the nurse-maid of her baby in the room with her. + +In this state of things the chances for instruction, which come every +day of themselves where parties share a common life instead of its +results merely, do not occur. Neither is there opportunity to +administer instruction in the best manner, nor to understand when and +where it is needed. + +The farmer who works with his men in the field, the farmer's wife who +attends with her women to the churn and the oven, may, with ease, be +true father and mother to all who are in their employ, and enjoy +health of conscience in the relation, secure that, if they find cause +for blame, it is not from faults induced by their own negligence. The +merchant who is from home all day, the lady receiving visitors or +working slippers in her nicely-furnished parlor, cannot be quite so +sure that their demands, or the duties involved in them, are clearly +understood, nor estimate the temptations to prevarication. + +It is shocking to think to what falsehoods human beings like ourselves +will resort, to excuse a love of amusement, to hide ill-health, while +they see us indulging freely in the one, yielding lightly to the +other; and yet we have, or ought to have, far more resources in either +temptation than they. For us it is hard to resist, to give up going to +the places where we should meet our most interesting companions, or do +our work with an aching brow. But we have not people over us whose +careless, hasty anger drives us to seek excuses for our failures; if +so, perhaps,--perhaps; who knows?--we, the better-educated, rigidly, +immaculately true as we are at present, _might_ tell falsehoods. +Perhaps we might, if things were given us to do which we had never +seen done, if we were surrounded by new arrangements in the nature of +which no one instructed us. All this we must think of before we can be +of much use. + +We have spoken of the nursery-maid as _the_ hired domestic with +whom her mistress, or even the master, is likely to become acquainted. +But, only a day or two since, we saw, what we see so often, a +nursery-maid with the family to which she belonged, in a public +conveyance. They were having a pleasant time; but in it she had no +part, except to hold a hot, heavy baby, and receive frequent +admonitions to keep _it_ comfortable. No inquiry was made as to +_her_ comfort; no entertaining remark, no information of interest +as to the places we passed, was addressed to her. Had she been in that +way with that family ten years she might have known _them_ well +enough, for their characters lay only too bare to a careless scrutiny; +but her joys, her sorrows, her few thoughts, her almost buried +capacities, would have been as unknown to them, and they as little +likely to benefit her, as the Emperor of China. + +Let the employer place the employed first in good physical +circumstances, so as to promote the formation of different habits from +those of the Irish hovel, or illicit still-house. Having thus induced +feelings of self-respect, he has opened the door for a new set of +notions. Then let him become acquainted with the family circumstances +and history of his new pupil. He has now got some ground on which to +stand for intercourse. Let instruction follow for the mind, not merely +by having the youngest daughter set, now and then, copies in the +writing-book, or by hearing read aloud a few verses in the Bible, but +by putting good books in their way, if able to read, and by +intelligent conversation when there is a chance,--the master with the +man who is driving him, the lady with the woman who is making her bed. +Explain to them the relations of objects around them; teach them to +compare the old with the new life. If you show a better way than +theirs of doing work, teach them, too, _why_ it is better. Thus +will the mind be prepared by development for a moral reformation; +there will be some soil fitted to receive the seed. + +When the time is come,--and will you think a poor, uneducated person, +in whose mind the sense of right and wrong is confused, the sense of +honor blunted, easier of access than one refined and thoughtful? +Surely you will not, if you yourself are refined and thoughtful, but +rather that the case requires far more care in the choice of a +favorable opportunity,--when, then, the good time is come, perhaps it +will be best to do what you do in a way that will make a permanent +impression. Show the Irishman that a vice not indigenous to his +nation--for the rich and noble who are not so tempted are chivalrous +to an uncommon degree in their openness, bold sincerity, and adherence +to their word--has crept over and become deeply rooted in the poorer +people from the long oppressions they have undergone. Show them what +efforts and care will be needed to wash out the taint. Offer your aid, +as a faithful friend, to watch their lapses, and refine their sense of +truth. You will not speak in vain. If they never mend, if habit is too +powerful, still, their nobler nature will not have been addressed in +vain. They will not forget the counsels they have not strength to +follow, and the benefits will be seen in their children or children's +children. + +Many say, "Well, suppose we do all this; what then? They are so fond +of change, they will leave us." What then? Why, let them go and carry +the good seed elsewhere. Will you be as selfish and short-sighted as +those who never plant trees to shade a hired house, lest some one else +should be blest by their shade? + +It is a simple duty we ask you to engage in; it is, also, a great +patriotic work. You are asked to engage in the great work of mutual +education, which must be for this country the system of mutual +insurance. + +We have some hints upon this subject, drawn from the experience of the +wise and good, some encouragement to offer from that experience, that +the fruits of a wise planting sometimes ripen sooner than we could +dare to expect. But this must be for another day. + +One word as to this love of change. We hear people blaming it in their +servants, who can and do go to Niagara, to the South, to the Springs, +to Europe, to the seaside; in short, who are always on the move +whenever they feel the need of variety to reanimate mind, health, or +spirits. Change of place, as to family employment, is the only way +domestics have of "seeing life"--the only way immigrants have of +getting thoroughly acquainted with the new society into which they +have entered. How natural that they should incline to it! Once more; +put yourself in their places, and then judge them gently from your +own, if you would be just to them, if you would be of any use. + + + + +EDUCATE MEN AND WOMEN AS SOULS. + + +Had Christendom but been true to its standard, while accommodating its +modes of operation to the calls of successive times, Woman would now +have not only equal _power_ with Man,--for of that omnipotent +nature will never suffer her to be defrauded,--but a _chartered_ +power, too fully recognized to be abused. Indeed, all that is wanting +is, that Man should prove his own freedom by making her free. Let him +abandon conventional restriction, as a vestige of that Oriental +barbarity which confined Woman to a seraglio. Let him trust her +entirely, and give her every privilege already acquired for +himself,--elective franchise, tenure of property, liberty to speak in +public assemblies, &c. + +Nature has pointed out her ordinary sphere by the circumstances of her +physical existence. She cannot wander far. If here and there the gods +send their missives through women as through men, let them speak +without remonstrance. In no age have men been able wholly to hinder +them. A Deborah must always be a spiritual mother in Israel. A Corinna +may be excluded from the Olympic games, yet all men will hear her +song, and a Pindar sit at her feet. It is Man's fault that there ever +were Aspasias and Ninons. These exquisite forms were intended for the +shrines of virtue. + +Neither need men fear to lose their domestic deities. Woman is born +for love, and it is impossible to turn her from seeking it. Men should +deserve her love as an inheritance, rather than seize and guard it +like a prey. Were they noble, they would strive rather not to be loved +too much, and to turn her from idolatry to the true, the only Love. +Then, children of one Father, they could not err nor misconceive one +another. + +Society is now so complex, that it is no longer possible to educate +Woman merely as Woman; the tasks which come to her hand are so +various, and so large a proportion of women are thrown entirely upon +their own resources. I admit that this is not their state of perfect +development; but it seems as if Heaven, having so long issued its +edict in poetry and religion without securing intelligent obedience, +now commanded the world in prose to take a high and rational view. The +lesson reads to me thus:-- + +Sex, like rank, wealth, beauty, or talent, is but an accident of +birth. As you would not educate a soul to be an aristocrat, so do not +to be a woman. A general regard to her usual sphere is dictated in the +economy of nature. You need never enforce these provisions rigorously. +Achilles had long plied the distaff as a princess; yet, at first sight +of a sword, he seized it. So with Woman; one hour of love would teach +her more of her proper relations than all your formulas and +conventions. Express your views, men, of what you _seek_ in +women; thus best do you give them laws. Learn, women, what you should +_demand_ of men; thus only can they become themselves. Turn both +from the contemplation of what is merely phenomenal in your existence, +to your permanent life as souls. Man, do not prescribe how the Divine +shall display itself in Woman. Woman, do not expect to see all of God +in Man. Fellow-pilgrims and helpmeets are ye, Apollo and Diana, twins +of one heavenly birth, both beneficent, and both armed. Man, fear not +to yield to Woman's hand both the quiver and the lyre; for if her urn +be filled with light, she will use both to the glory of God. There is +but one doctrine for ye both, and that is the doctrine of the SOUL. + + + + + + +PART III. + +EXTRACTS FROM JOURNALS AND LETTERS. + + + + + + +[The following extract from Margaret's Journal will be read with a +degree of melancholy interest when connected with the eventful end of +her eventful life. It was written many years before her journey to +Europe, and rings in our ears now almost with the tones of +prophecy.--Ed.] + + +I like to listen to the soliloquies of a bright child. In this +microcosm the philosophical observer may trace the natural progression +of the mind of mankind. I often silently observe L---, with this view. +He is generally imitative and dramatic; the day-school, the singing-school +or the evening party, are acted out with admirable variety in the humors +of the scene, end great discrimination of character in its broader +features. What is chiefly remarkable is his unconsciousness of his +mental processes, and how thoughts it would be impossible for him +to recall spring up in his mind like flowers and weeds in the soil. +But to-night he was truly in a state of lyrical inspiration, his eyes +flashing, his face glowing, and his whole composition chanted out in +an almost metrical form. He began by mourning the death of a certain +Harriet whom he had let go to foreign parts, and who had died at sea. +He described her as having "blue, sparkling eyes, and a sweet smile," +and lamented that he could never kiss her cold lips again. This part, +which he continued for some time, was in prolonged cadences, and a +low, mournful tone, with a frequently recurring burden of "O, my +Harriet, shall I never see thee more!" + + * * * * * + +EXTRACT FROM JOURNAL. + + * * * * * + +It is so true that a woman may be in love with a woman, and a man with +a man. It is pleasant to be sure of it, because it is undoubtedly the +same love that we shall feel when we are angels, when we ascend to the +only fit place for the Mignons, where + + "Sie fragen nicht nach Mann und Welb." + + +It is regulated by the same law as that of love between persons of +different sexes, only it is purely intellectual and spiritual, +unprefaced by any mixture of lower instincts, undisturbed by any need +of consulting temporal interests; its law is the desire of the spirit +to realize a whole, which makes it seek in another being that which it +finds not in itself. + +Thus the beautiful seek the strong; the mute seek the eloquent; the +butterfly settles on the dark flower. Why did Socrates so love +Alcibiades? Why did Korner so love Schneider? How natural is the love +of Wallenstein for Max, that of Madame de Stael for de Recamier, mine +for -----! I loved ---- for a time with as much passion as I was then +strong enough to feel. Her face was always gleaming before me; her +voice was echoing in my ear; all poetic thoughts clustered round the +dear image. This love was for me a key which unlocked many a treasure +which I still possess; it was the carbuncle (emblematic gem!) which +cast light into many of the darkest corners of human nature. She loved +me, too, though not so much, because her nature was "less high, less +grave, less large, less deep;" but she loved more tenderly, less +passionately. She loved me, for I well remember her suffering when she +first could feel my faults, and knew one part of the exquisite veil +rent away--how she wished to stay apart and weep the whole day. + +These thoughts were suggested by a large engraving representing Madame +Recamier in her boudoir. I have so often thought over the intimacy +between her and Madame de Stael. + +Madame Recamier is half-reclining on a sofa; she is clad in white +drapery, which clings very gracefully to her round, but +elegantly-slender form; her beautiful neck and arms are bare; her hair +knotted up so as to show the contour of her truly-feminine head to +great advantage. A book lies carelessly on her lap; one hand yet holds +it at the place where she left off reading; her lovely face is turned +towards us; she appears to muse on what she has been reading. When we +see a woman in a picture with a book, she seems to be doing precisely +that for which she was born; the book gives such an expression of +purity to the female figure. A large window, partially veiled by a +white curtain, gives a view of a city at some little distance. On one +side stand the harp and piano; there are just books enough for a +lady's boudoir. There is no picture, except one of De Recamier +herself, as Corinne. This is absurd; but the absurdity is interesting, +as recalling the connection. You imagine her to have been reading one +of De Stael's books, and to be now pondering what those brilliant +words of her gifted friend can mean. + +Everything in the room is in keeping. Nothing appears to have been put +there because other people have it; but there is nothing which shows a +taste more noble and refined than you would expect from the fair +Frenchwoman. All is elegant, modern, in harmony with the delicate +habits and superficial culture which you would look for in its +occupant. + + * * * * * + +TO HER MOTHER. + +_Sept_. 5, 1887. + +* * * * * If I stay in Providence, and more money is wanting than can +otherwise be furnished, I will take a private class, which is ready for +me, and by which, even if I reduced my terms to suit the place, I can +earn the four hundred dollars that ---- will need. If I do not stay, I +will let her have my portion of our income, with her own, or even capital +which I have a right to take up, and come into this or some other +economical place, and live at the cheapest rate. It will not be even a +sacrifice to me to do so, for I am weary of society, and long for the +opportunity for solitary concentration of thought. I know what I say; +if I live, you may rely upon me. + +God be with you, my dear mother! I am sure he will prosper the doings +of so excellent a woman if you will only keep your mind calm and be +firm. Trust your daughter too. I feel increasing trust in mine own +good mind. We will take good care of the children and of one another. +Never fear to trouble me with your perplexities. I can never be so +situated that I do not earnestly wish to know them. Besides, things do +not trouble me as they did, for I feel within myself the power to aid, +to serve. + +Most affectionately, + +Your daughter, M. + + * * * * * + +PART OF LETTER TO M. + +_Providence_, Oct. 7, 1838. + +* * * For yourself, dear ------, you have attained an important age. +No plan is desirable for you which is to be pursued with precision. +The world, the events of every day, which no one can predict, are to +be your teachers, and you must, in some degree, give yourself up, and +submit to be led captive, if you would learn from them. Principle must +be at the helm, but thought must shift its direction with the winds +and waves. + +Happy as you are thus far in worthy friends, you are not in much +danger of rash intimacies or great errors. I think, upon the whole, +quite highly of your judgment about people and conduct; for, though +your first feelings are often extravagant, they are soon balanced. + +I do not know other faults in you beside that want of retirement of +mind which I have before spoken of. If M------ and A------ want too +much seclusion, and are too severe in their views of life and man, I +think you are too little so. There is nothing so fatal to the finer +faculties as too ready or too extended a publicity. There is some +danger lest there be no real religion in the heart which craves too +much of daily sympathy. Through your mind the stream of life has +coursed with such rapidity that it has often swept away the seed or +loosened the roots of the young plants before they had ripened any +fruit. + +I should think writing would be very good for you. A journal of your +life, and analyses of your thoughts, would teach you how to +generalize, and give firmness to your conclusions. Do not write down +merely that things are beautiful, or the reverse; but _what_ they +are, and _why_ they are beautiful or otherwise; and show these +papers, at least at present, to nobody. Be your own judge and your own +helper. Do not go too soon to any one with your difficulties, but try +to clear them up for yourself. + +I think the course of reading you have fallen upon, of late, will be +better for you than such books as you formerly read, addressed rather +to the taste and imagination than the judgment. The love of beauty has +rather an undue development in your mind. See now what it is, and what +it has been. Leave for a time the Ideal, and return to the Real. + +I should think two or three hours a day would be quite enough, at +present, for you to give to books. Now learn buying and selling, +keeping the house, directing the servants; all that will bring you +worlds of wisdom if you keep it subordinate to the one grand aim of +perfecting the whole being. And let your self-respect forbid you to do +imperfectly anything that you do at all. + +I always feel ashamed when I write with this air of wisdom; but you +will see, by my hints, what I mean. Your mind wants depth and +precision; your character condensation. Keep your high aim steadily in +view; life will open the path to reach it. I think ----, even if she +be in excess, is an excellent friend for you; her character seems to +have what yours wants, whether she has or has not found the right way. + + * * * * * + +TO HER BROTHER, A. B. F. + +_Providence, Feb_. 19, 1888 + +MY DEAR A.: + + * * * * * + +I wish you could see the journals of two dear little girls, eleven +years old, in my school. They love one another like Bessie Bell and +Mary Gray in the ballad. They are just of a size, both lively as +birds, affectionate, gentle, ambitious in good works and knowledge. +They encourage one another constantly to do right; they are rivals, +but never jealous of one another. One has the quicker intellect, the +other is the prettier. I have never had occasion to find fault with +either, and the forwardness of their minds has induced me to take both +into my reading-class, where they are associated with girls many years +their elders. Particular pains do they take with their journals. These +are written daily, in a beautiful, fair, round hand, well-composed, +showing attention, and memory well-trained, with many pleasing sallies +of playfulness, and some very interesting thoughts. + + * * * * * + +TO THE SAME. + +_Jamaica Plain, Dec_. 20, 1840. + +* * * * About your school I do not think I could give you much advice +which would be of value, unless I could know your position more in +detail. The most important rule is, in all relations with our +fellow-creatures, never forget that, if they are imperfect persons, +they are immortal souls, and treat them as you would wish to be +treated by the light of that thought. + +As to the application of means, abstain from punishment as much as +possible, and use encouragement as far as you can _without +flattery_. But be even more careful as to strict truth in this +regard, towards children, than to persons of your own age; for, to the +child, the parent or teacher is the representative of _justice;_ +and as that of life is severe, an education which, in any degree, +excites vanity, is the very worst preparation for that general and +crowded school. + +I doubt not you will teach grammar well, as I saw you aimed at +principles in your practice. + +In geography, try to make pictures of the scenes, that they may be +present to their imaginations, and the nobler faculties be brought +into action, as well as memory. + +In history, try to study and paint the characters of _great men_; +they best interpret the leadings of events amid the nations. + +I am pleased with your way of speaking of both people and pupils; your +view seems from the right point. Yet beware of over great pleasure in +being popular, or even beloved. As far as an amiable disposition and +powers of entertainment make you so, it is a happiness; but if there +is one grain of plausibility, it is poison. + +But I will not play Mentor too much, lest I make you averse to write +to your very affectionate sister, + +M. + + * * * * * + +TO HER BROTHER, R. + +I entirely agree in what you say of _tuition_ and +_intuition;_ the two must act and react upon one another, to make +a man, to form a mind. Drudgery is as necessary, to call out the +treasures of the mind, as harrowing and planting those of the earth. +And besides, the growths of literature and art are as much nature as +the trees in Concord woods; but nature idealized and perfected. + + * * * * * + +TO THE SAME. + +1841. + +I take great pleasure in that feeling of the living presence of beauty +in nature which your letters show. But you, who have now lived long +enough to see some of my prophecies fulfilled, will not deny, though +you may not yet believe the truth of my words when I say you go to an +extreme in your denunciations of cities and the social institutions. +_These_ are a growth also, and, as well as the diseases which +come upon them, under the control of the one spirit as much as the +great tree on which the insects prey, and in whose bark the busy bird +has made many a wound. + +When we get the proper perspective of these things we shall find man, +however artificial, still a part of nature. Meanwhile, let us trust; +and while it is the soul's duty ever to bear witness to the best it +knows, let us not be hasty to conclude that in what suits us not there +can be no good. Let us be sure there _must_ be eventual good, +could we but see far enough to discern it. In maintaining perfect +truth to ourselves and choosing that mode of being which suits us, we +had best leave others alone as much as may be. You prefer the country, +and I doubt not it is on the whole a better condition of life to live +there; but at the country party you have mentioned you saw that no +circumstances will keep people from being frivolous. One may be +gossipping, and vulgar, and idle in the country,--earnest, noble and +wise, in the city. Nature cannot be kept from us while there is a sky +above, with so much as one star to remind us of prayer in the silent +night. + +As I walked home this evening at sunset, over the Mill-Dam, towards +the city, I saw very distinctly that the city also is a bed in God's +garden. More of this some other time. + + * * * * * + +TO A YOUNG FRIEND. + +_Concord, May _2, 1887. + +MY DEAR: I am passing happy here, except that I am not well,--so +unwell that I fear I must go home and ask my good mother to let me +rest and vegetate beneath her sunny kindness for a while. The +excitement of conversation prevents my sleeping. The drive here with +Mr. E------ was delightful. Dear Nature and Time, so often +calumniated, will take excellent care of us if we will let them. The +wisdom lies in schooling the heart not to expect too much. I did that +good thing when I came here, and I am rich. On Sunday I drove to +Watertown with the author of "Nature." The trees were still bare, but +the little birds care not for that; they revel, and carol, and wildly +tell their hopes, while the gentle, "voluble" south wind plays with +the dry leaves, and the pine-trees sigh with their soul-like sounds +for June. It was beauteous; and care and routine fled away, and I was +as if they had never been, except that I vaguely whispered to myself +that all had been well with me. + + * * * * * + +The baby here is beautiful. He looks like his father, and smiles so +sweetly on all hearty, good people. I play with him a good deal, and +he comes so _natural,_ after Dante and other poets. + +Ever faithfully your friend. + + * * * * * + +TO THE SAME. + +1887. + +MY BELOVED CHILD: I was very glad to get your note. Do not think you +must only write to your friends when you can tell them you are happy; +they will not misunderstand you in the dark hour, nor think you +_forsaken_, if cast down. Though your letter of Wednesday was +very sweet to me, yet I knew it could not last as it was then. These +hours of heavenly, heroic strength leave us, but they come again: +their memory is with us amid after-trials, and gives us a foretaste of +that era when the steadfast soul shall be the only reality. + +My dearest, you must suffer, but you will always be growing stronger, +and with every trial nobly met, you will feel a growing assurance that +nobleness is not a mere _sentiment_ with you. I sympathize deeply +in your anxiety about your mother; yet I cannot but remember the +bootless fear and agitation about my mother, and how strangely our +destinies were guided. Take refuge in prayer when you are most +troubled; the door of the sanctuary will never be shut against you. I +send you a paper which is very sacred to me. Bless Heaven that your +heart is awakened to sacred duties before any kind of gentle +ministering has become impossible, before any relation has been +broken. [Footnote: It has always been my desire to find appropriate +time and place to correct an erroneous impression which has gained +currency in regard to my father, and which does injustice to his +memory. That impression is that he was exceedingly stern and exacting +in the parental relation, and especially in regard to my sister; that +he forbid or frowned upon her sports;--excluded her from intercourse +with other children when she, a child, needed such companionship, and +required her to bend almost unceasingly over her books. This +impression has, certainly in part, arisen from an autobiographical +sketch, never written for publication nor intended for a literal or +complete statement of her father's educational method, or the relation +which existed between them, which was most loving and true on both +sides. While the narrative is true, it is not the all she would have +said, and, therefore, taken alone, conveys an impression which +misleads those who did not know our father well. Perhaps no better +opportunity or place than this may ever arise to correct this +impression so for us it is wrong. It is true that my father had a very +high standard of scholarship, and did expect conformity to it in his +children. He was not stern toward them. + +It is doubtless true, also, that he did not perfectly comprehend the +rare mind of his daughter, or see for some years that she required no +stimulating to intellectual effort, as do most children, but rather +the reverse. But how many fathers are there who would have understood +at once such a child as Margaret Fuller was, or would have done even +as wisely as he? And how long is it since a wiser era has dawned upon +the world (its light not yet fully welcomed), in which attention first +to physical development to the exclusion of the mental, is an axiom in +education! Was it so deemed forty years ago? Nor has it been +considered that so gifted a child would naturally, as she did, +_seek_ the companionship of those older than herself, and not of +children who had little in unison with her. She needed, doubtless, to +be _urged_ into the usual sports of children, and the company of +those of her own age; if _not_ urged to enter these she was never +excluded from either. She needed to be kept from books for a period, +or to be led to those of a lighter cost than such as she read, and +which usually task the thoughts of mature men. This simply was not +done, and the error arose from no lack of tenderness, or +consideration, from no lack of the wisdom of those times, but from the +simple fact that the laws of physiology as connected with those of +mind were not understood then as now, nor was attention so much +directed to physical culture as of the primary importance it is now +regarded. Our father was indeed exact and strict with himself and +others; but none has ever been more devoted to his children than he, +or more painstaking with their education, nor more fondly loved them; +and in later life they have ever been more and more impressed with the +conviction of his fidelity and wisdom. That Margaret venerated her +father, and that his love was returned, is abundantly evidenced in her +poem which accompanies this letter. This, too, was not written for the +public eye, but it is too noble a tribute, too honorable both to +father and daughter, to be suppressed. I trust that none, passing from +one extreme to the other, will infer from the natural self-reproach +and upbraiding because of short-comings, felt by every true mind when +an honored and loved parent departs, that she lacked fidelity in the +relation of daughter. She agreed not always with his views and +methods, but this diversity of mind never affected their mutual +respect and love.--[Ed.]] + + +LINES WRITTEN IN MARCH, 1836. + + "I will not leave you comfortless." + + O, Friend divine! this promise dear + Falls sweetly on the weary ear! + Often, in hours of sickening pain, + It soothes me to thy rest again. + + Might I a true disciple be, + Following thy footsteps faithfully, + Then should I still the succor prove + Of him who gave his life for love. + + When this fond heart would vainly beat + For bliss that ne'er on earth we meet, + For perfect sympathy of soul, + From those such heavy laws control; + + When, roused from passion's ecstasy, + I see the dreams that filled it fly, + Amid my bitter tears and sighs + Those gentle words before me rise. + + With aching brows and feverish brain + The founts of intellect I drain, + And con with over-anxious thought + What poets sung and heroes wrought. + + Enchanted with their deeds and lays, + I with like gems would deck my days; + No fires creative in me burn, + And, humbled, I to Thee return; + + When blackest clouds around me rolled + Of scepticism drear and cold, + When love, and hope, and joy and pride, + Forsook a spirit deeply tried; + + My reason wavered in that hour, + Prayer, too impatient, lost its power; + From thy benignity a ray, + I caught, and found the perfect day. + + A head revered in dust was laid; + For the first time I watched my dead; + The widow's sobs were checked in vain, + And childhood's tears poured down like rain. + + In awe I gaze on that dear face, + In sorrow, years gone by retrace, + When, nearest duties most forgot, + I might have blessed, and did it not! + + Ignorant, his wisdom I reproved, + Heedless, passed by what most he loved, + Knew not a life like his to prize, + Of ceaseless toil and sacrifice. + + No tears can now that hushed heart move, + No cares display a daughter's love, + The fair occasion lost, no more + Can thoughts more just to thee restore. + + What can I do? And how atone + For all I've done, and left undone? + Tearful I search the parting words + Which the beloved John records. + + "Not comfortless!" I dry my eyes, + My duties clear before me rise,-- + Before thou think'st of taste or pride, + See home-affections satisfied! + + Be not with generous _thoughts_ content, + But on well-doing constant bent; + When self seems dear, self-seeking fair; + Remember this sad hour in prayer! + + Though all thou wishest fly thy touch, + Much can one do who loveth much. + More of thy spirit, Jesus give, + Not comfortless, though sad, to live. + + And yet not sad, if I can know + To copy Him who here below + Sought but to do his Father's will, + Though from such sweet composure still + + My heart be far. Wilt thou not aid + One whose best hopes on thee are stayed? + Breathe into me thy perfect love, + And guide me to thy rest above! + + * * * * * + +TO HER BROTHER, R----. + +* * * Mr. Keats, Emma's father, is dead. To me this brings unusual +sorrow, though I have never yet seen him; but I thought of him as one +of the very few persons known to me by reputation, whose acquaintance +might enrich me. His character was a sufficient answer to the doubt, +whether a merchant can be a man of honor. He was, like your father, +a man all whose virtues had stood the test. He was no word-hero. + + * * * * * + +TO A YOUNG FRIEND. + +_Providence, June 16,1837_. + +MY DEAR ------: I pray you, amid all your duties, to keep some hours +to yourself. Do not let my example lead you into excessive exertions. +I pay dear for extravagance of this sort; five years ago I had no idea +of the languor and want of animal spirits which torment me now. Animal +spirits are not to be despised. An earnest mind and seeking heart will +not often be troubled by despondency; but unless the blood can dance +at proper times, the lighter passages of life lose all their +refreshment and suggestion. + +I wish you and ------- had been here last Saturday. Our school-house +was dedicated, and Mr. Emerson made the address; it was a noble appeal +in behalf of the best interests of culture, and seemingly here was fit +occasion. The building was beautiful, and furnished with an even +elegant propriety. + +I am at perfect liberty to do what I please, and there are apparently +the best dispositions, if not the best preparation, on the part of the +hundred and fifty young minds with whom I am to be brought in contact. + +I sigh for the country; trees, birds and flowers, assure me that June +is here, but I must walk through streets many and long, to get sight +of any expanse of green. I had no fine weather while at home, though +the quiet and rest were delightful to me; the sun did not shine once +really warmly, nor did the apple-trees put on their blossoms until the +very day I came away. + + * * * * * + +SONNET. + +TO THE SAME. + + Although the sweet, still watches of the night + Find me all lonely now, yet the delight + Hath not quite gone, which from thy presence flows. + The love, the joy that in thy bosom glows, + Lingers to cheer thy friend. From thy fresh dawn + Some golden exhalations have I drawn + To make less dim my dusty noon. Thy tones + Are with me still; some plaintive as the moans + Of Dryads, when their native groves must fall, + Some wildly wailing, like the clarion-call + On battle-field, strewn with the noble dead. + Some in soft romance, like the echoes bred + In the most secret groves of Arcady; + Yet all, wild, sad, or soft, how steeped in poesy! + +_Providence, April_, 1888. + + * * * * * + +TO THE SAME. + +_Providence, Oct_. 21, 1888. + +* * * * I am reminded by what you say, of an era in my own existence; +it is seven years bygone. For bitter months a heavy weight had been +pressing on me,--the weight of deceived friendship. I could not be +much alone,--a great burden of family cares pressed upon me; I was in +the midst of society, and obliged to act my part there as well as I +could. At that time I took up the study of German, and my progress was +like the rebound of a string pressed almost to bursting. My mind being +then in the highest state of action, heightened, by intellectual +appreciation, every pang; and imagination, by prophetic power, gave to +the painful present all the weight of as painful a future. + +At this time I never had any consolation, except in long solitary +walks, and my meditations then were so far aloof from common life, +that on my return my fall was like that of the eagle, which the +sportsman's hand calls bleeding from his lofty flight, to stain the +earth with his blood. + +In such hours we feel so noble, so full of love and bounty, that we +cannot conceive how any pain should have been needed to teach us. It +then seems we are so born for good, that such means of leading us to +it were wholly unnecessary. But I have lived to know that the secret +of all things is pain, and that nature travaileth most painfully with +her noblest product. I was not without hours of deep spiritual +insight, and consciousness of the inheritance of vast powers. I +touched the secret of the universe, and by that touch was invested +with talismanic power which has never left me, though it sometimes +lies dormant for a long time. + +One day lives always in my memory; one chastest, heavenliest day of +communion with the soul of things. It was Thanksgiving-day. I was free +to be alone; in the meditative woods, by the choked-up fountain, I +passed its hours, each of which contained ages of thought and emotion. +I saw, then, how idle were my griefs; that I had acquired _the +thought_ of each object which had been taken from me; that more +extended personal relations would only have given me pleasures which +then seemed not worth my care, and which would surely have dimmed my +sense of the spiritual meaning of all which had passed. I felt how +true it was that nothing in any being which was fit for me, could long +be kept from me; and that, if separation could be, real intimacy had +never been. All the films seemed to drop from my existence, and I was +sure that I should never starve in this desert world, but that manna +would drop from Heaven, if I would but rise with every rising sun to +gather it. + +In the evening I went to the church-yard; the moon sailed above the +rosy clouds,--the crescent moon rose above the heavenward-pointing +spire. At that hour a vision came upon my soul, whose final scene last +month interpreted. The rosy clouds of illusion are all vanished; the +moon has waxed to full. May my life be a church, full of devout +thoughts end solemn music. I pray thus, my dearest child! "Our Father! +let not the heaviest shower be spared; let not the gardener forbear +his knife till the fair, hopeful tree of existence be brought to its +fullest blossom and fruit!" + + * * * * * + +TO THE SAME. + +_Jamaica Plain, June_, 1889. + +* * * I have had a pleasant visit at Nahant, but was no sooner there than +the air braced me so violently as to drive all the blood to my head. I +had headache two of the three days we were there, and yet I enjoyed my +stay very much. We had the rocks and piazzas to ourselves, and were on +sufficiently good terms not to destroy, if we could not enhance, one +another's pleasure. + +The first night we had a storm, and the wind roared and wailed round +the house that Ossianic poetry of which you hear so many strains. Next +day was clear and brilliant, with a high north-west wind. I went out +about six o'clock, and had a two hours' scramble before breakfast. I +do not like to sit still in this air, which exasperates all my nervous +feelings; but when I can exhaust myself in climbing, I feel +delightfully,--the eye is so sharpened, and the mind so full of +thought. The outlines of all objects, the rocks, the distant sails, +even the rippling of the ocean, were so sharp that they seemed to +press themselves into the brain. When I see a natural scene by such a +light it stays in my memory always as a picture; on milder days it +influences me more in the way of reverie. After breakfast, we walked +on the beaches. It was quite low tide, no waves, and the fine sand +eddying wildly about. I came home with that frenzied headache which +you are so unlucky as to know, covered my head with wet towels, and +went to bed. After dinner I was better, and we went to the +Spouting-horn. C---- was perched close to the fissure, far above me, +and, in a pale green dress, she looked like the nymph of the place. I +lay down on a rock, low in the water, where I could hear the twin +harmonies of the sucking of the water into the spout, and the washing +of the surge on the foot of the rock. I never passed a more delightful +afternoon. Clouds of pearl and amber were slowly drifting across the +sky, or resting a while to dream, like me, near the water. Opposite +me, at considerable distance, was a line of rock, along which the +billows of the advancing tide chased one another, and leaped up +exultingly as they were about to break. That night we had a sunset of +the gorgeous, autumnal kind, and in the evening very brilliant +moonlight; but the air was so cold I could enjoy it but a few minutes. +Next day, which was warm and soft, I was out on the rocks all day. In +the afternoon I was out alone, and had an admirable place, a cleft +between two vast towers of rock with turret-shaped tops. I got on a +ledge of rock at their foot, where I could lie and let the waves wash +up around me, and look up at the proud turrets rising into the +prismatic light. This evening was very fine; all the sky covered with +crowding clouds, profound, but not sullen of mood, the moon wading, +the stars peeping, the wind sighing very softly. We lay on the high +rocks and listened to the plashing of the waves. The next day was +good, but the keen light was too much for my eyes and brain; and, +though I am glad to have been there, I am as glad to get back to our +garlanded rocks, and richly-green fields and groves. I wish you could +come to me now; we have such wealth of roses. + + * * * * * + +TO THE SAME. + +_Jamaica Plain, Aug., 1889_. + +* * * * I returned home well, full of earnestness; yet, I know not why, +with the sullen, boding sky came a mood of sadness, nay, of gloom, black +as Hades, which I have vainly striven to fend off by work, by exercise, +by high memories. Very glad was I of a painful piece of intelligence, +which came the same day with your letter, to bring me on excuse for +tears. That was a black Friday, both above and within. What demon +resists our good angel, and seems at such times to have the mastery? +Only _seems_, I say to myself; it is but the sickness of the +immortal soul, and shall by-and-by be cast aside like a film. I think +this is the great step of our life,--to change the _nature_ of +our self-reliance. We find that the will cannot conquer circumstances, +and that our temporal nature must vary its hue here with the food that +is given it. Only out of mulberry leaves will the silk-worm spin its +thread fine and durable. The mode of our existence is not in our own +power; but behind it is the immutable essence that cannot be +tarnished; and to hold fast to this conviction, to live as far as +possible by its light, cannot be denied us if we elect this kind of +self-trust. Yet is sickness wearisome; and I rejoice to say that my +demon seems to have been frightened away by this day's sun. But, +conscious of these diseases of the mind, believe that I can sympathize +with a friend when subject to the same. Do not fail to go and stay +with ---------; few live so penetrating and yet so kind, so true, so +sensitive. She is the spirit of love as well as of intellect. * * * * + + * * * * * + +TO THE SAME. + +MY BELOVED CHILD: I confess I was much disappointed when I first +received your letter this evening. I have been quite ill for two or +three days, and looked forward to your presence as a restorative. But +think not I would have had you act differently; far better is it for +me to have my child faithful to duty than even to have her with me. +Such was the lesson I taught her in a better hour. I am abashed to +think how often lately I have found excuses for indolence in the +weakness of my body; while now, after solitary communion with my +better nature, I feel it was weakness of mind, weak fear of depression +and conflict. But the Father of our spirits will not long permit a +heart fit for worship + + "--------- to seek + From weak recoils, exemptions weak, + After false gods to go astray, + Deck altars vile with garlands gay," etc. + + +His voice has reached me; and I trust the postponement of your visit +will give me space to nerve myself to what strength I should, so that, +when we do meet, I shall rejoice that you did not come to help or +soothe me; for I shall have helped and soothed myself. Indeed, I would +not so willingly that you should see my short-comings as know that +they exist. Pray that I may never lose sight of my vocation; that I +may not make ill-health a plea for sloth and cowardice; pray that, +whenever I do, I may be punished more swiftly than this time, by a +sadness as deep as now. + + * * * * * + +TO HER BROTHER, R. + +_Cambridge, August_ 6, 1842. + +My dear R.: I want to hear how you enjoyed your journey, and what you +think of the world as surveyed from mountain-tops. I enjoy exceedingly +staying among the mountains. I am satisfied with reading these bolder +lines in the manuscript of Nature. Merely gentle and winning scenes +are not enough for me. I wish my lot had been cast amid the sources of +the streams, where the voice of the hidden torrent is heard by night, +where the eagle soars, and the thunder resounds in long peals from +side to side; where the grasp of a more powerful emotion has rent +asunder the rocks, and the long purple shadows fall like a broad wing +upon the valley. All places, like all persons, I know, have beauty; +but only in some scenes, and with some people, can I expand and feel +myself at home. I feel all this the more for having passed my earlier +life in such a place as Cambridgeport. There I had nothing except the +little flower-garden behind the house, and the elms before the door. I +used to long and sigh for beautiful places such as I read of. There +was not one walk for me, except over the bridge. I liked that very +much,--the river, and the city glittering in sunset, and the lively +undulating line all round, and the light smokes, seen in some weather. + + * * * * * + +LETTER TO THE SAME. + +_Milwaukie, July _29, 1848. + +DEAR R.: * * * Daily I thought of you during my visit to the +Rock-river territory. It is only five years since the poor Indians +have been dispossessed of this region of sumptuous loveliness, such as +can hardly be paralleled in the world. No wonder they poured out their +blood freely before they would go. On one island, belonging to a Mr. +H., with whom we stayed, are still to be found their "caches" for +secreting provisions,--the wooden troughs in which they pounded their +corn, the marks of their tomahawks upon felled trees. When he first +came, he found the body of an Indian woman, in a canoe, elevated on +high poles, with all her ornaments on. This island is a spot, where +Nature seems to have exhausted her invention in crowding it with all +kinds of growths, from the richest trees down to the most delicate +plants. It divides the river which there sweeps along in clear and +glittering current, between noble parks, richest green lawns, pictured +rocks crowned with old hemlocks, or smooth bluffs, three hundred feet +high, the most beautiful of all. Two of these,--the Eagle's Nest, and +the Deer's Walk, still the resort of the grand and beautiful creature +from which they are named,--were the scene of some of the happiest +hours of my life. I had no idea, from verbal description, of the +beauty of these bluffs, nor can I hope to give any to others. They lie +so magnificently bathed in sunlight, they touch the heavens with so +sharp and fair a line. This is one of the finest parts of the river; +but it seems beautiful enough to fill any heart and eye all along its +course, nowhere broken or injured by the hand of man. And there, I +thought, if we two could live, and you could have a farm which would +not cost a twentieth part the labor of a New England farm, and would +pay twenty times as much for the labor, and have our books and, our +pens and a little boat on the river, how happy we might be for four or +five years,--at least, _as_ happy as Fate permits mortals to be. +For we, I think, are congenial, and if I could hope permanent peace on +the earth, I might hope it with you. + +You will be glad to hear that I feel overpaid for coming here. Much is +my life enriched by the images of the great Niagara, of the vast +lakes, of the heavenly sweetness of the prairie scenes, and, above +all, by the heavenly region where I would so gladly have lived. My +health, too, is materially benefited. I hope to come back better +fitted for toil and care, as well as with beauteous memories to +sustain me in them. + +Affectionately always, &c. + + * * * * * + +TO MISS R. + +_Chicago_, _August_ 4, 1848. + +I HAVE hoped from time to time, dear ----, that I should receive a few +lines from you, apprizing me how you are this summer, but a letter +from Mrs. F---- lately comes to tell me that you are not better, but, +at least when at Saratoga, worse. + +So writing is of course fatiguing, and I must not expect letters any +more. To that I could make up my mind if I could hear that you were +well again. I fear, if your malady disturbs you as much as it did, it +must wear on your strength very much, and it seems in itself +dangerous. However, it is good to think that your composure is such +that disease can only do its legitimate work, and not undermine two +ways,--the body with its pains, and the body through the mind with +thoughts and fears of pains. + +I should have written to you long ago except that I find little to +communicate this summer, and little inclination to communicate that +little; so what letters I have sent, have been chiefly to beg some +from my friends. I have had home-sickness sometimes here, as do +children for the home where they are even little indulged, in the +boarding-school where they are only tolerated. This has been in the +town, where I have felt the want of companionship, because the +dissipation of fatigue, or expecting soon to move again, has prevented +my employing myself for myself; and yet there was nothing well worth +looking at without. When in the country I have enjoyed myself highly, +and my health has improved day by day. The characters of persons are +brought out by the little wants and adventures of country life as you +see it in this region; so that each one awakens a healthy interest; +and the same persons who, if I saw them at these hotels, would not +have a word to say that could fix the attention, become most pleasing +companions; their topics are before them, and they take the hint. You +feel so grateful, too, for the hospitality of the log-cabin; such +gratitude as the hospitality of the rich, however generous, cannot +inspire; for these wait on you with their domestics and money, and +give of their superfluity only; but here the Master gives you his bed, +his horse, his lamp, his grain from the field, his all, in short; and +you see that he enjoys doing so thoroughly, and takes no thought for +the morrow; so that you seem in fields full of lilies perfumed with +pure kindness; and feel, verily, that Solomon in all his glory could +not have entertained you so much to the purpose. Travelling, too, +through the wide green woods and prairies, gives a feeling both of +luxury and repose that the sight of highly-cultivated country never +can. There seems to be room enough for labor to pause and man to fold +his arms and gaze, forgetting poverty, and care, and the thousand +walls and fences that in the cultivated region must be built and daily +repaired both for mind and body. Nature seems to have poured forth her +riches so without calculation, merely to mark the fulness of her joy; +to swell in larger strains the hymn, "the one Spirit doeth all things +veil, for its life is love." + +I will not ask you to write to me now, as I shall so soon be at home. +Probably, too, I shall reserve a visit to B---- for another summer; I +have been so much a rover that when once on the road I shall wish to +hasten home. + +Ever yours, M. + + * * * * * + +TO THE SAME. + +_Cambridge, January_ 21, 1644. + +MY DEAR ------: I am anxious to get a letter, telling me how you fare +this winter in the cottage. Your neighbors who come this way do not +give very favorable accounts of your looks; and, if you are well +enough, I should like to see a few of those firm, well-shaped +characters from your own hand. Is there no chance of your coming to +Boston all this winter? I had hoped to see you for a few hours at +least. + +I wrote you one letter while at the West; I know not if it was ever +received; it was sent by a private opportunity, one of those "traps to +catch the unwary," as they have been called. It was no great loss, if +lost. I did not feel like writing letters while travelling. It took +all my strength of mind to keep moving and to receive so many new +impressions. Surely I never had so clear an idea before of the +capacity to bless, of mere _Earth_, when fresh from the original +breath of the creative spirit. To have this impression, one must see +large tracts of wild country, where the traces of man's inventions are +too few and slight to break the harmony of the first design. It will +not be so, long, even where I have been now; in three or four years +those vast flowery plains will be broken up for tillage,--those +shapely groves converted into logs and boards. I wished I could have +kept on now, for two or three years, while yet the first spell rested +on the scene. I feel much refreshed, even by this brief intimacy with +Nature in an aspect of large and unbroken lineaments. + +I came home with a treasure of bright pictures and suggestions, and +seemingly well. But my strength, which had been sustained by a free, +careless life in the open air, has yielded to the chills of winter, +and a very little work, with an ease that is not encouraging. However, +I have had the influenza, and that has been about as bad as fever to +everybody. _Now_ I am pretty well, but much writing does not +agree with me. + +* * * I wish you were near enough for me to go in and see you now and +then. I know that, sick or well, you are always serene, and sufficient +to yourself; but now you are so much shut up, it might animate +existence agreeably to hear some things I might have to tell. * * * + + * * * * * + +TO THE SAME. + +* * * 1844. + +Just as I was beginning to visit the institutions here, of a remedial +and benevolent kind, I was stopped by influenza. So soon as I am quite +well I shall resume the survey. I do not expect to do much, +practically, for the suffering, but having such an organ of expression +as the _Tribune_, any suggestions that are well grounded may be +of use. I have always felt great interest for those women who are +trampled in the mud to gratify the brute appetites of men, and I +wished I might be brought, naturally, into contact with them. Now I am +so, and I think I shall have much that is interesting to tell you when +we meet. + +I go on very moderately, for my strength is not great; but I am now +connected with a person who is anxious I should not overtask it. I +hope to do more for the paper by-and-by. At present, besides the time +I spend in looking round and examining my new field, I am publishing a +volume, of which you will receive a copy, called "Woman in the +Nineteenth Century." A part of my available time is spent in attending +to it as it goes through the press; for, really, the work seems but +half done when your book is _written_. I like being here; the +streams of life flow free, and I learn much. I feel so far satisfied +as to have laid my plans to stay a year and a half, if not longer, and +to have told Mr. G---- that I probably shall do so. That is long +enough for a mortal to look forward, and not too long, as I must look +forward in order to get what I want from Europe. + +Mr. Greeley is a man of genuine excellence, honorable, benevolent, of +an uncorrupted disposition, and of great, abilities. In modes of life +and manners he is the man of the people, and of the _American_ +people. * * * + +I rejoice to hear that your situation is improved. I hope to pass a +day or two with you next summer, if you can receive me when I can +come. I want to hear from you now and then, if it be only a line to +let me know the state of your health. Love to Miss G----, and tell her +I have the cologne-bottle on my mantle-piece now. I sent home for all +the little gifts I had from friends, that my room might look more +homelike. My window commands a most beautiful view, for we are quite +out of the town, in a lovely place on the East River. I like this, as +I can be in town when I will, and here have much retirement. You were +right in supposing my signature is the star. + +Ever affectionately yours. + + * * * * * + +TO HER BROTHER, R. + +_Fishkill-Landing, Nov 28, 1844._ + +DEAR R.: + + * * * * * + +The seven weeks of proposed abode here draw to a close, and have +brought what is rarest,--fruition, of the sort proposed from them. I +have been here all the time, except that three weeks since I went down +to New York, and with ---- visited the prison at Sing-Sing. On +Saturday we went up to Sing-Sing in a little way-boat, thus seeing +that side of the river to much greater advantage than we can in the +mammoth boats. We arrived in resplendent moonlight, by which we might +have supposed the prisons palaces, if we had not known too well what +was within. + +On Sunday ---- addressed the male convicts in a strain of most noble +and pathetic eloquence. They listened with earnest attention; many +were moved to tears,--some, I doubt not, to a better life. I never +felt such sympathy with an audience;--as I looked over that sea of +faces marked with the traces of every ill, I felt that at least +heavenly truth would not be kept out by self-complacency and a +dependence on good appearances. + +I talked with a circle of women, and they showed the natural aptitude +of the sex for refinement. These women--some black, and all from the +lowest haunts of vice--showed a sensibility and a sense of propriety +which would not have disgraced any place. + +Returning, we had a fine storm on the river, clearing up with strong +winds. + + * * * * * + +TO HER BROTHER, A. B. F. + +_Rome, Jan._ 20, 1849. + +My Dear A.: Your letter and mother's gave me the first account of your +illness. Some letters were lost during the summer, I do not know how. +It did seem very hard upon you to have that illness just after your +settlement; but it is to be hoped we shall some time know a good +reason for all that seems so strange. I trust you are now becoming +fortified in your health, and if this could only be, feel as if things +would go well with you in this difficult world. I trust you are on the +threshold of an honorable and sometimes happy career. From many pains, +many dark hours, let none of the progeny of Eve hope to escape! * * * * + +Meantime, I hope to find you in your home, and make you a good visit +there. Your invitation is sweet in its tone, and rouses a vision of +summer woods and New England Sunday-morning bells. + +It seems to me that mother is at last truly in her sphere, living with +one of her children. Watch over her carefully, and don't let her do +too much. Her spirit is only all too willing,--but the flesh is weak, +and her life so precious to us all! * * * * + + * * * * * + +TO MAZZINI. + +"Al Cittadino Reppresentante del Popolo Romano." + +_Rome, March_ 8, 1849. + +Dear Mazzini: Though knowing you occupied by the most important +affairs, I again feel impelled to write a few lines. What emboldens me +is the persuasion that the best friends, in point of sympathy and +intelligence,--the only friends of a man of ideas and of marked +character,--must be women. You have your mother; no doubt you have +others, perhaps many. Of that I know nothing; only I like to offer +also my tribute of affection. + +When I think that only two years ago you thought of coming into Italy +with us in disguise, it seems very glorious that you are about to +enter republican Rome as a Roman citizen. It seems almost the most +sublime and poetical fact of history. Yet, even in the first thrill of +joy, I felt "he will think his work but beginning, now." + +When I read from your hand these words, "II lungo esilio teste +ricominciato, la vita non confortata, fuorche d'affetti lontani e +contesi, e la speranza lungamente protrata, e il desiderio che +comincia a farmi si supremo, di dormire finalmente in pace, da che non +ho potuto, vivere in terra mia,"--when I read these words they made me +weep bitterly, and I thought of them always with a great pang at the +heart. But it is not so, dear Mazzini,--you do not return to sleep +under the sod of Italy, but to see your thought springing up all over +the soil. The gardeners seem to me, in point of instinctive wisdom or +deep thought, mostly incompetent to the care of the garden; but on +idea like this will be able to make use of any implements. The +necessity, it is to be hoped, will educate the men, by making them +work. It is not this, I believe, which still keeps your heart so +melancholy; for I seem to read the same melancholy in your answer to +the Roman assembly, You speak of "few and late years," but some full +ones still remain. A century is not needed, nor should the same man, +in the same form of thought, work too long on an age. He would mould +and bind it too much to himself. Better for him to die and return +incarnated to give the same truth on yet another side. Jesus of +Nazareth died young; but had he not spoken and acted as much truth as +the world could bear in his time? A frailty, a perpetual short-coming, +motion in a curve-line, seems the destiny of this earth. + +The excuse awaits us elsewhere; there must be one,--for it is true, +as said Goethe, "care is taken that the tree grow not up into the +heavens." Men like you, appointed ministers, must not be less earnest +in their work; yet to the greatest, the day, the moment is all their +kingdom, God takes care of the increase. + +Farewell! For your sake I could wish at this moment to be an Italian +and a man of action; but though I am an _American_, I am not even +_a woman of action_; so the best I can do is to pray with the +whole heart, "Heaven bless dear Mazzini!--cheer his heart, and give +him worthy helpers to carry out his holy purposes." + + * * * * * + +TO MR. AND MRS. SPRING. + +_Florence, Dec._ 12, 1840. + +DEAR M. AND R.: * * * Your letter, dear R, was written in your noblest +and most womanly spirit. I thank you warmly for your sympathy about my +little boy. What he is to me, even you can hardly dream; you that have +three, in whom the natural thirst of the heart was earlier satisfied, +can scarcely know what my one ewe-lamb is to me. That he may live, +that I may find bread for him, that I may not spoil him by overweening +love, that I may grow daily better for his sake, are the +ever-recurring thoughts,--say prayers,--that give their hue to all the +current of my life. + +But, in answer to what you say, that it is still better to give the +world a living soul than a portion of my life in a printed book, it is +true; and yet, of my book I could know whether it would be of some +worth or not; of my child, I must wait to see what his worth will be. +I play with him, my ever-growing mystery! but from the solemnity of +the thoughts he brings is refuge only in God. Was I worthy to be +parent of a soul, with its eternal, immense capacity for weal and woe? +"God be merciful to me a sinner!" comes so naturally to a mother's +heart! + + * * * * * + +What you say about the Peace way is deeply true; if any one see +clearly how to work in that way, let him, in God's name! Only, if he +abstain from fighting against giant wrongs, let him be sure he is +really and ardently at work undermining them, or, better still, +sustaining the rights that are to supplant them. Meanwhile, I am not +sure that I can keep my hands free from blood. Cobden is good; but if +he had stood in Kossuth's place, would he not have drawn his sword +against the Austrian? You, could you let a Croat insult your wife, +carry off your son to be an Austrian serf, and leave your daughter +bleeding in the dust? Yet it is true that while Moses slew the +Egyptian, Christ stood still to be spit upon; and it is true that +death to man could do him no harm. You have the truth, you have the +right, but could you act up to it in all circumstances? Stifled under +the Roman priesthood, would you not have thrown it off with all your +force? Would you have waited unknown centuries, hoping for the moment +when you could see another method? + +Yet the agonies of that baptism of blood I feel, O how deeply! in the +golden June days of Rome. Consistent no way, I felt I should have +shrunk back,--I could not have had it shed. Christ did not have to see +his dear ones pass the dark river; he could go alone, however, in +prophetic spirit. No doubt he foresaw the crusades. + +In answer to what you say of ----, I wish the little effort I made for +him had been wiselier applied. Yet these are not the things one +regrets. It does not do to calculate too closely with the affectionate +human impulse. We must be content to make many mistakes, or we should +move too slowly to help our brothers much. + + * * * * * + +TO HER BROTHER, R. + +_Florence, Jan._ 8, 1850. + +My Dear R.: * * * * The way in which you speak of my marriage is such +as I expected from you. Now that we have once exchanged words on these +important changes in our lives, it matters little to write letters, so +much has happened, and the changes are too great to be made clear in +writing. It would not be worth while to keep the family thinking of +me. I cannot fix precisely the period of my return, though at present +it seems to me probable we may make the voyage in May or June. At +first we should wish to go and make a little visit to mother. I should +take counsel with various friends before fixing myself in any place; +see what openings there are for me, &c. I cannot judge at all before I +am personally in the United States, and wish to engage myself no way. +Should I finally decide on the neighborhood of New York, I should see +you all, often. I wish, however, to live with mother, if possible. We +will discuss it on all sides when I come. Climate is one thing I must +think of. The change from the Roman winter to that of New England +might be very trying for Ossoli. In New York he would see Italians +often, hear his native tongue, and feel less exiled. If we had our +affairs in New York and lived in the neighboring country, we could +find places as quiet as C------, more beautiful, and from which access +to a city would be as easy by means of steam. + +On the other hand, my family and most cherished friends are in New +England. I shall weigh all advantages at the time, and choose as may +then seem best. + +I feel also the great responsibility about a child, and the mixture of +solemn feeling with the joy its sweet ways and caresses give; yet this +is only different in degree, not in kind, from what we should feel in +other relations. We may more or less impede or brighten the destiny of +all with whom we come in contact. Much as the child lies in our power, +still God and Nature are there, furnishing a thousand masters to +correct our erroneous, and fill up our imperfect, teachings. I feel +impelled to try for good, for the sake of my child, most powerfully; +but if I fail, I trust help will be tendered to him from some other +quarter. I do not wish to trouble myself more than is inevitable, or +lose the simple, innocent pleasure of watching his growth from day to +day, by thinking of his future. At present my care of him is to keep +him pure, in body and mind, to give for body and mind simple nutriment +when he requires it, and to play with him. Now he learns, playing, as +we all shall when we enter a higher existence. With him my intercourse +thus far has been precious, and if I do not well for _him_, he at +least has taught _me_ a great deal. + +I may say of Ossoli, it would be difficult to help liking him, so +sweet is his disposition, so disinterested without effort, so simply +wise his daily conduct, so harmonious his whole nature. And he is a +perfectly unconscious character, and never dreams that he does well. +He is studying English, but makes little progress. For a good while +you may not be able to talk freely with him, but you will like showing +him your favorite haunts,--he is so happy in nature, so sweet in +tranquil places. + + * * * * * + +TO ------. + +What a difference it makes to come home to a child! How it fills up +all the gaps of life just in the way that is most consoling, most +refreshing! Formerly I used to feel sad at that hour; the day had not +been nobly spent,--I had not done my duty to myself or others, and I +felt so lonely! Now I never feel lonely; for, even if my little boy +dies, our souls will remain eternally united. And I feel +_infinite_ hope for him,--hope that he will serve God and man +more loyally than I have done; and seeing how full he is of life, how +much he can afford to throw away, I feel the inexhaustibleness of +nature, and console myself for my own incapacities. + +Madame Arconati is near me. We have had some hours of great content +together, but in the last weeks her only child has been dangerously +ill. I have no other acquaintance except in the American circle, and +should not care to make any unless singularly desirable; for I want +all my time for the care of my child, for my walks, and visits to +objects of art, in which again I can find pleasure, end in the evening +for study and writing. Ossoli is forming some taste for books; he is +also studying English; he learns of Horace Sumner, to whom he teaches +Italian in turn. + + * * * * * + +TO MR. AND MRS. S. + +_Florence_, Feb. 6, 1850. + +My Dear M. and R.: You have no doubt ere this received a letter +written, I think, in December, but I must suddenly write again to +thank you for the New Year's letter. It was a sweet impulse that led +you all to write together, and had its full reward in the pleasure you +gave! I have said as little as possible about Ossoli and our relation, +wishing my old friends to form their own impressions naturally, when +they see us together. I have faith that all who ever knew me will feel +that I have become somewhat milder, kinder, and more worthy to serve +all who need, for my new relations. I have expected that those who +have cared for me chiefly for my activity of intellect, would not care +for him; but that those in whom the moral nature predominates would +gradually learn to love and admire him, and see what a treasure his +affection must be to me. But even that would be only gradually; for it +is by acts, not by words, that one so simple, true, delicate and +retiring, can be known. For me, while some of my friends have thought +me exacting, I may say Ossoli has always outgone my expectations in +the disinterestedness, the uncompromising bounty, of his every act. + +He was the same to his father as to me. His affections are few, but +profound, and thoroughly acted out. His permanent affections are few, +but his heart is always open to the humble, suffering, heavy-laden. +His mind has little habitual action, except in a simple, natural +poetry, that one not very intimate with him would never know anything +about. But once opened to a great impulse, as it was to the hope of +freeing his country, it rises to the height of the occasion, and stays +there. His enthusiasm is quiet, but unsleeping. He is very unlike most +Italians, but very unlike most Americans, too. I do not expect all who +cared for me to care for him, nor is it of importance to him that they +should. He is wholly without vanity. He is too truly the gentleman not +to be respected by all persons of refinement. For the rest, if my life +is free, and not too much troubled, if he can enjoy his domestic +affections, and fulfil his duties in his own way, he will be content. +Can we find this much for ourselves in bustling America the next three +or four years? I know not, but think we shall come and try. I wish +much to see you all, and exchange the kiss of peace. There will, I +trust, be peace within, if not without. I thank you most warmly for +your gift. Be assured it will turn to great profit. I have learned to +be a great adept in economy, by looking at my little boy. I cannot +bear to spend a cent for fear he may come to want. I understand now +how the family-men get so mean, and shall have to begin soon to pray +against that danger. My little Nino, as we call him for house and pet +name, is in perfect health. I wash, and dress, and sew for him; and +think I see a great deal of promise in his little ways, and shall know +him better for doing all for him, though it is fatiguing and +inconvenient at times. He is very gay and laughing, sometimes +violent,--for he is come to the age when he wants everything in his +own hands,--but, on the whole, sweet as yet, and very fond of me. He +often calls me to kiss him. He says, "kiss," in preference to the +Italian word bacio. I do not cherish sanguine visions about him, but +try to do my best by him, and enjoy the present moment. + +It was a nice account you gave of Miss Bremer. She found some +"neighbors" as good as her own. You say she was much pleased by ----; +could she know her, she might enrich the world with a portrait as full +of little delicate traits as any in her gallery, and of a higher class +than any in which she has been successful. I would give much that a +competent person should paint ----. It is a shame she should die and +leave the world no copy. + + * * * * * + +TO MR. CASS, CHARGE D'AFFAIRES DES ETATS UNIS D'AMERIQUE. + +_Florence, May_ 2, 1850. + +Dear Mr. Cass: I shall most probably leave Florence and Italy the 8th +or 10th of this month, and am not willing to depart without saying +adieu to yourself. I wanted to write the 30th of April, but a +succession of petty interruptions prevented. That was the day I saw +you first, and the day the French first assailed Rome. What a crowded +day that was! I had been to visit Ossoli in the morning, in the garden +of the Vatican. Just after my return you entered. I then went to the +hospital, and there passed the eight amid the groans of many suffering +and some dying men. What a strange first of May it was, as I walked +the streets of Rome by the early sunlight of the nest day! Those were +to me grand and impassioned hours. Deep sorrow followed,--many +embarrassments, many pains! Let me once more, at parting, thank you +for the sympathy you showed me amid many of these. A thousand years +might pass, and you would find it unforgotten by me. + +I leave Italy with profound regret, and with only a vague hope of +returning. I could have lived here always, full of bright visions, and +expanding in my faculties, had destiny permitted. May you be happy who +remain here! It would be well worth while to be happy in Italy! + +I had hoped to enjoy some of the last days, but the weather has been +steadily bad since you left Florence. Since the 4th of April we have +not had a fine day, and all our little plans for visits to favorite +spots and beautiful objects, from which we have long been separated, +have been marred! + +I sail in the barque Elizabeth for New York. She is laden with marble +and rags--a very appropriate companionship for wares of Italy! She +carries Powers' statue of Calhoun. Adieu! Remember that we look to you +to keep up the dignity of our country. Many important occasions are +now likely to offer for the American (I wish I could write the +Columbian) man to advocate,--more, to _represent_ the cause of +Truth and Freedom in the face of their foes. Remember me as their +lover, and your friend, M. O. + + * * * * * + +To ------. + +_Florence_, _April_ 16, 1860. + +* * * There is a bark at Leghorn, highly spoken of, which sails at the +end of this month, and we shall very likely take that. I find it +imperatively necessary to go to the United States to make arrangements +that may free me from care. Shall I be more fortunate if I go in +person? I do not know. I am ill adapted to push my claims and +pretensions; but, at least, it will not be such slow work as passing +from disappointment to disappointment here, where I wait upon the +post-office, and must wait two or three months, to know the fate of +any proposition. + +I go home prepared to expect all that is painful and difficult. It +will be a consolation to see my dear mother; and my dear brother E., +whom I have not seen for ten years, is coming to New England this +summer. On that account I wish to go _this_ year. + + * * * * * + +_May_ 10.--My head is full of boxes, bundles, phials of medicine, +and pots of jelly. I never thought much about a journey for myself, +except to try and return all the things, books especially, which I had +been borrowing; but about my child I feel anxious lest I should not +take what is necessary for his health and comfort on so long a voyage, +where omissions are irreparable. The unpropitious, rainy weather +delays us now from day to day, as our ship; the Elizabeth,--(look out +for news of shipwreck!) cannot finish taking in her cargo till come +one or two good days. + +I leave Italy with most sad and unsatisfied heart,--hoping, indeed, to +return, but fearing that may not be permitted in my "cross-biased" +life, till strength of feeling and keenness of perception be less than +during these bygone rich, if troubled, years! + +I can say least to those whom I prize most. I am so sad and weary, +leaving Italy, that I seem paralyzed. + + * * * * * + +TO THE SAME. + +_Ship Elizabeth, off Gibraltar, June_ 8, 1850. + +My Dear M----: You will, I trust, long ere receiving this, have read +my letter from Florence, enclosing one to my mother, informing her +under what circumstances I had drawn on you through ----, and +mentioning how I wished the bill to be met in case of any accident to +me on my homeward course. That course, as respects weather, has been +thus far not unpleasant; but the disaster that has befallen us is such +as I never dreamed of. I had taken passage with Captain Hasty--one who +seemed to me one of the best and most high-minded of our American men. +He showed the kindest interest in us. His wife, an excellent woman, +was with him. I thought, during the voyage, if safe and my child well, +to have as much respite from care and pain as sea-sickness would +permit. But scarcely was that enemy in some measure quelled, when the +captain fell sick. At first his disease presented the appearance of +nervous fever. I was with him a great deal; indeed, whenever I could +relieve his wife from a ministry softened by great love and the +courage of womanly heroism: The last days were truly terrible with +disgusts and fatigues; for he died, we suppose,--no physician has been +allowed to come on board to see the body,--of confluent small-pox. I +have seen, since we parted, great suffering, but nothing physical to +be compared to this, where the once fair and expressive mould of man +is thus lost in corruption before life has fled. He died yesterday +morning, and was buried in deep water, the American Consul's barge +towing out one from this ship which bore the body, about six o'clock. +It was Sunday. A divinely calm, glowing afternoon had succeeded a +morning of bleak, cold wind. You cannot think how beautiful the whole +thing was:--the decent array and sad reverence of the sailors; the +many ships with their banners flying; the stern pillar of Hercules all +bathed in roseate vapor; the little white sails diving into the blue +depths with that solemn spoil of the good man, so still, when he had +been so agonized and gasping as the last sun stooped. Yes, it was +beautiful; but how dear a price we pay for the poems of this world! We +shall now be in quarantine a week; no person permitted to come on +board until it be seen whether disease break out in other cases. I +have no good reason to think it will _not_; yet I do not feel +afraid. Ossoli has had it; so he is safe. The baby is, of course, +subject to injury. In the earlier days, before I suspected small-pox, +I carried him twice into the sick-room, at the request of the captain, +who was becoming fond of him. He laughed and pointed; he did not +discern danger, but only thought it odd to see the old friend there in +bed. It is vain by prudence to seek to evade the stern assaults of +destiny. I submit. Should all end well, we shall be in New York later +than I expected; but keep a look-out. Should we arrive safely, I +should like to see a friendly face. Commend me to my dear friends; +and, with most affectionate wishes that joy and peace may continue to +dwell in your house, adieu, and love as you can, + +Your friend, MARGARET. + + * * * * * + +LETTER FROM HON. LEWIS CASS, JR., UNITED STATES CHARGE D'AFFAIRES AT +ROME, TO MRS. E. K. CHANNING. + +_Legation des Etats Unis d'Amerique, Rome, May_ 10, 1851. + +Madame: I beg leave to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the +---- ult., and to express my regret that the weak state of my eyesight +has prevented me from giving it an earlier reply. + +In compliance with your request, I have the honor to state, succinctly, +the circumstances connected with my acquaintance with the late Madame +Ossoli, your deceased sister, during her residence in Rome. + +In the month of April, 1849, Rome, as you are no doubt aware, was +placed in a state of siege by the approach of the French army. It was +filled at that time with exiles and fugitives who had been contending +for years, from Milan in the north to Palermo in the south, for the +republican cause; and when the gates were closed, it was computed that +there were, of Italians alone, thirteen thousand refugees within the +walls of the city, all of whom had been expelled from adjacent states, +till Rome became their last rallying-point, and, to many, their final +resting-place. Among these was to be seen every variety of age, +sentiment, and condition,--striplings and blanched heads; wild, +visionary enthusiasts; grave, heroic men, who, in the struggle for +freedom, had ventured all, and lost all; nobles and beggars; bandits, +felons and brigands. Great excitement naturally existed; and, in the +general apprehension which pervaded all classes, that acts of personal +violence and outrage would soon be committed, the foreign residents, +especially, found themselves placed in an alarming situation. + +On the 30th of April the first engagement took place between the +French and Roman troops, and in a few days subsequently I visited +several of my countrymen, at their request, to concert measures for +their safety. Hearing, on that occasion, and for the first time, of +Miss Fuller's presence in Rome, and of her solitary mode of life, I +ventured to call upon her, and offer my services in any manner that +might conduce to her comfort and security. She received me with much +kindness, and thus an acquaintance commenced. Her residence on the +Piazzi Barberini being considered an insecure abode, she removed to +the Casa Dies, which was occupied by several American families. + +In the engagements which succeeded between the Roman and French +troops, the wounded of the former were brought into the city, and +disposed throughout the different hospitals, which were under the +superintendence of several ladies of high rank, who had formed +themselves into associations, the better to ensure care and attention +to those unfortunate men. Miss Fuller took an active part in this +noble work; and the greater portion of her time, during the entire +siege, was passed in the hospital of the Trinity of the Pilgrims, +which was placed under her direction, in attendance upon its inmates. + +The weather was intensely hot; her health was feeble and delicate; the +dead and dying were around her in every stage of pain and horror; but +she never shrank from the duty she had assumed. Her heart and soul +were in the cause for which those men had fought, and all was done +that Woman could do to comfort them in their sufferings. I have seen +the eyes of the dying, as she moved among them, extended on opposite +beds, meet in commendation of her universal kindness; and the friends +of those who then passed away may derive consolation from the +assurance that nothing of tenderness and attention was wanting to +soothe their last moments. And I have heard many of those who +recovered speak with all the passionate fervor of the Italian nature, +of her whose sympathy and compassion, throughout their long illness, +fulfilled all the offices of love and affection. Mazzini, the chief of +the Triumvirate, who, better than any man in Rome, knew her worth, +often expressed to me his admiration of her high character; and the +Princess Belgiojoso. to whom was assigned the charge of the Papal +Palace, on the Quirinal, which was converted on this occasion into a +hospital, was enthusiastic in her praise. And in a letter which I +received not long since from this lady, who was gaining the bread of +an exile by teaching languages in Constantinople, she alludes with +much feeling to the support afforded by Miss Fuller to the republican +party in Italy. Here, in Rome, she is still spoken of in terms of +regard and endearment, and the announcement of her death was received +with a degree of sorrow not often bestowed upon a foreigner, +especially one of a different faith. + +On the 29th of June, the bombardment from the French camp was very +heavy, shells and grenades falling in every part of the city. In the +afternoon of the 30th, I received a brief note from Miss Fuller, +requesting me to call at her residence. I did so without delay, and +found her lying on a sofa, pale and trembling, evidently much +exhausted. She informed me that she had sent for me to place in my +hand a packet of important papers, which she wished me to keep for the +present, and, in the event of her death, to transmit it to her friends +in the United States. She then stated that she was married to Marquis +Ossoli, who was in command of a battery on the Pincian Hill,--that +being the highest and most exposed position in Rome, and directly in +the line of bombs from the French camp. It was not to be expected, she +said, that he could escape the dangers of another night, such as the +last; and therefore it was her intention to remain with him, and share +his fate. At the Ave Maria, she added, he would come for her, and they +would proceed together to his post. The packet which she placed in my +possession, contained, she said, the certificates of her marriage, and +of the birth and baptism of her child. After a few words more, I took +my departure, the hour she named having nearly arrived. At the +porter's lodge I met the Marquis Ossoli, and a few moments afterward I +saw them walking toward the Pincian Hill. + +Happily, the cannonading was not renewed that night, and at dawn of +day she returned to her apartments, with her husband by her side. On +that day the French army entered Rome, and, the gates being opened, +Madame Ossoli, accompanied by the Marquis, immediately proceeded to +Rieti, where she had left her child in the charge of a confidential +nurse, formerly in the service of the Ossoli family. + +She remained, as you are no doubt aware, some months at Rieti, whence +she removed to Florence, where she resided until her ill-fated +departure for the United States. During this period I received several +letters from her, all of which, though reluctant to part with them, I +enclose to your address in compliance with your request. + +I am, Madame, very respectfully, + +Your obedient servant, + +LEWIS CASS, JR. + + + + + + +APPENDIX. + + + + + + +A. + +Apparition of the goddess Isis to her votary, from Apulelus. + +"Scarcely had I closed my eyes, when, behold (I saw in a dream), a +divine form emerging from the middle of the sea, and raising a +countenance venerable even to the gods themselves. Afterward, the +whole of the most splendid image seemed to stand before me, having +gradually shaken off the sea. I will endeavor to explain to you its +admirable form, if the poverty of human language will but afford me +the power of an appropriate narration; or if the divinity itself, of +the most luminous form, will supply me with a liberal abundance of +fluent diction. In the first place, then, her most copious and long +hairs, being gradually intorted, and promiscuously scattered on her +divine neck, were softly defluous. A multiform crown, consisting of +various flowers, bound the sublime summit of her head. And in the +middle of the crown, just on her forehead, there was a smooth orb, +resembling a mirror, or rather a white refulgent light, which +indicated that she was the moon. Vipers, rising up after the manner of +furrows, environed the crown on the right hand and on the left, and +Cerealian ears of corn were also extended from above. Her garment was +of many colors, and woven from the finest flax, and was at one time +lucid with a white splendor, at another yellow, from the flower of +crocus, and at another flaming with a rosy redness. But that which +most excessively dazzled my sight, was a very black robe, fulgid with +a dark splendor, and which, spreading round and passing under her +right side, and ascending to her left shoulder, there rose +protuberant, like the centre of a shield, the dependent part of her +robe falling in many folds, and having small knots of fringe, +gracefully flowing in its extremities. Glittering stars were dispersed +through the embroidered border of the robe, and through the whole of +its surface, and the full moon, shining in the middle of the stars, +breathed forth flaming fires. A crown, wholly consisting of flowers +and fruits of every kind, adhered with indivisible connection to the +border of conspicuous robe, in all its undulating motions. + +"What she carried in her hands also consisted of things of a very +different nature. Her right hand bore a brazen rattle, through the +narrow lamina of which, bent like a belt, certain rods passing, +produced a sharp triple sound through the vibrating motion of her arm. +An oblong vessel, in the shape of a boat, depended from her left hand, +on the handle of which, in that part which was conspicuous, an asp +raised its erect head and largely swelling neck. And shoes, woven from +the leaves of the victorious palm-tree, covered her immortal feet. +Such, and so great a goddess, breathing the fragrant odor of the +shores of Arabia the happy, deigned thus to address me." + +The foreign English of the translator, Thomas Taylor, gives this +description the air of being itself a part of the mysteries. But its +majestic beauty requires no formal initiation to be enjoyed. + + * * * * * + +B. + +I give this in the original, as it does not bear translation. Those +who read Italian will judge whether it is not a perfect description of +a perfect woman. + +LODI E PREGHIERE A MARIA. + + Vergine bella che di sol vestita, +Coronata di stelle, al sommo Sole + Piacesti si, che'n te sua luce ascose; +Amor mi spinge a dir di te parole; + Ma non so 'ncominciar senza tu' alta, +E di Coiul che amando in te si pose. + + Invoco lei che ben sempre rispose, +Chi la chiamo con fede. + Vergine, s'a mercede +Miseria extrema dell' smane cose + Giammal tivoise, al mio prego t'inohina; +Soccorri alla mia guerra; + Bench' l' sia terra, e tu del oiel Regina. + + Vergine saggia, e del bel numero una +Delle beata vergini prudenti; + Anzi la prima, e con piu chiara lampa; +O saldo scudo dell' afflitte gente + Contra colpi di Morte e di Fortuna, +Sotto' l' quai si trionfu, non pur scampa: + O refrigerio alcieco ardor ch' avvampa +Qui fra mortali schiocchi, + Vergine, que' begli occhi +Che vider tristi la spietata stampa + Ne' dolci membri del tuo caro figlio, +Volgi ai mio dubbio stato; + Che sconsigliato a te vien per consiglio. + + Vergine pura, d'ognti parte intera, +Del tuo parto gentil figlluola e madre; + Che allumi questa vita, e t'altra adorni; +Per te il tuo Figlio e quel del sommo Padre, + O finestra del ciel lucente altera, +Venne a salvarne in su gli estremi giorni, + E fra tutt' i terreni altri soggiorni +Sola tu fusti eletta, + Vergine benedetta; +Che 'l pianto d' Eva in allegrezza torni'; + Fammi; che puoi; della sua grazia degno, +Senza fine o beata, + Gla coronata nel superno regno. + + Vergine santa d'ogni grazia piena; +Che per vera e altissima umiltate. + Salisti al ciel, onde miel preghi ascolti; +Tu partoristi il fonte di pietate, + E di giustizia il Sol, che rasserena +Il secol pien d'errori oscuri et tolti; + Tre dolci et cari nomi ha' in te raccolti, +Madre, Figliuola e Sposa: + Vergine gloriosa, +Donna del Re che nostri lacci a sciolti + E fatto 'l mondo libero et felice, +Nelle cui sante piaghe + Prego ch'appaghe il cor, vera beatrice. + + Vergine sola al mondo senza exempio +Che 'l ciel di tue bellezze innamorasti, + Cui ne prima fu simil ne seconda, +Santi penseri, atti pietosi et casti + Al vero Dio sacrato et vivo tempio +Fecero in tua verginita feconda. + Per te po la mia vita esser ioconda, +Sa' tuoi preghi, o Maria, + Vergine dolce et pia, +Ove 'l fallo abondo, la gratia abonda. + Con le ginocchia de la mente inchine, +Prego che sia mia scorta, + E la mia torta via drizzi a buon fine. + + Vergine chiara et stabile in eterno, +Di questo tempestoso mare stella, + D'ogni fedel nocchier fidata guida, +Pon' mente in che terribile procella + I' mi ritrovo sol, senza governo, +Et o gia da vicin l'ultime strida. + Ma pur in te l'anima mia si fida, +Peccatrice, i' nol nego, + Vergine; ma ti prego +Che 'l tuo nemico del mio mal non rida: + Ricorditi che fece il peccar nostro +Prender Dio, per scamparne, + Umana carne al tuo virginal chiostro. + + Vergine, quante lagrime ho gia sparte, +Quante lusinghe et quanti preghi indarno, + Pur per mia pena et per mio grave danno! +Da poi ch'i nacqui in su la riva d'Arno; + Cercando or questa ed or quell altra parte, +Non e stata mia vita altro ch'affanno. + Mortal bellezza, atti, o parole m' hanno +Tutta ingombrata l'alma, + Vergine sacra, ed alma, +Non tardar; ch' i' non forse all' ultim 'ann, + I di miel piu correnti che saetta, +Fra mierie e peccati + Sonsen andati, e sol Morte n'aspetta. + + Vergine, tale e terra, e posto ha in doglia +Lo mio cor; che vivendo in pianto il tenne; + E di mille miel mali un non sapea; +E per saperlo, pur quel che n'avvenne, + Fora avvento: ch' ogni altra sua voglia +Era a me morte, ed a lei fama rea + Or tu, donna del ciel, tu nostra Dea, +Se dir lice, e convicusi; + Vergine d'alti sensi, +Tu vedi il tutto; e quel che non potea + Far oltri, e nulla a e la tua gran virtute; +Pon fine al mio dolore; + Ch'a te onore ed a mo fia salute. + + Vergine, in cui ho tutta mia speranza +Che possi e vogli al gran bisogno altarme; + Non mi lasciare in su l'estremo passo; +Non guardar me, ma chi degno crearme; + No'l mio valor, ma l'alta sua sembianza; +Che in me ti mova a curar d'uorm si basso. + Medusa, e l'error mio lo han fatto un sasso +D'umor vano stillante; + Vergine, tu di sante +Lagrime, e pie adempi 'l mio cor lasso; + Ch' almen l'ultlmo pianto sia divoto, + Senza terrestro limo; + Come fu'l primo non d'insania voto. + + Vergine umana, e nemica d'orgoglio, +Del comune principio amor t'induca; + Miserere d'un cor contrito umile; +Che se poca mortal terra caduca + Amar con si mirabil fede soglio; +Che devro far di te cosa gentile? + Se dal mio stato assai misero, e vile +Per le tue man resurgo, + Vergine; e sacro, e purgo +Al tuo nome e pensieri e'ngegno, o stile; + La lingua, o'l cor, le lagrime, e i sospiri, +Scorgimi al migilor guado; + E prendi in grado i cangiati desiri. + + Il di s'appressa, e non pote esser lunge; +Si corre il tempo, e vola, + Vergine unica, e sola; +E'l cor' or conscienza, or morte punge. +Raccommandami al tuo Figiluol, verace + Uomo, e veraco Dio; +Ch'accolga i mio spirto ultimo in pace. + + +As the Scandinavian represented Frigga the Earth, or World-mother, +knowing all things, yet never herself revealing them, though ready to +be called to counsel by the gods, it represents her in action, decked +with jewels and gorgeously attended. But, says the Mythes, when she +ascended the throne of Odin, her consort (Heaven), she left with +mortals her friend, the Goddess of Sympathy, to protect them in her +absence. + +Since, Sympathy goes about to do good. Especially she devotes herself +to the most valiant and the most oppressed. She consoles the gods in +some degree even for the death of their darling Baldur. Among the +heavenly powers she has no consort. + + * * * * * + +C. + +THE WEDDING OF THE LADY THERESA. + +From Lockhart's Spanish ballads. + + 'Twas when the fifth Alphonso in Leon held his sway, + King Abdulla of Toledo an embassy did send; + He asked his sister for a wife, and in an evil day + Alphonso sent her, for he feared Abdalla to offend; + He feared to move his anger, for many times before + He had received in danger much succor from the Moor. + + Sad heart had fair Theresa, when she their paction knew; + With streaming tears she heard them tell she 'mong the Moors must go; + That she, a Christian damsel, a Christian firm and true, + Must wed a Moorish husband, it well might cause her woe; + But all her tears and all her prayers they are of small avail; + At length she for her fate prepares, a victim sad and pale. + + The king hath sent his sister to fair Toledo town, + Where then the Moor Abdalla his royal state did keep; + When she drew near, the Moslem from his golden throne came down, + And courteously received her, and bade her cease to weep; + With loving words he pressed her to come his bower within; + With kisses he caressed her, but still she feared the sin. + + "Sir King, Sir King, I pray thee,"--'twas thus Theresa spake,-- + "I pray thee, have compassion, and do to me no wrong; + For sleep with thee I may not, unless the vows I break, + Whereby I to the holy church of Christ my lord belong; + For thou hast sworn to serve Mahoun, and if this thing should be, + The curse of God it must bring down upon thy realm and thee. + + "The angel of Christ Jesu, to whom my heavenly Lord + Hath given my soul in keeping, is ever by my side; + If thou dost me dishonor, he will unsheathe his sword, + And smite thy body fiercely, at the crying of thy bride; + Invisible he standeth; his sword like fiery flame + Will penetrate thy bosom the hour that sees my shame." + + The Moslem heard her with a smile; the earnest words she said + He took for bashful maiden's wile, and drew her to his bower: + In vain Theresa prayed and strove,--she pressed Abdalla's bed, + Perforce received his kiss of love, and lost her maiden flower. + A woeful woman there she lay, a loving lord beside, + And earnestly to God did pray her succor to provide. + + The angel of Christ Jesu her sore complaint did hear, + And plucked his heavenly weapon from out his sheath unseen: + He waved the brand in his right hand, and to the King came near, + And drew the point o'er limb and joint, beside the weeping Queen: + A mortal weakness from the stroke upon the King did fall; + He could not stand when daylight broke, but on his knees must crawl. + + Abdalla shuddered inly, when he this sickness felt, + And called upon his barons, his pillow to come nigh; + "Rise up," he said, "my liegemen," as round his bed they knelt, + "And take this Christian lady, else certainly I die; + Let gold be in your girdles, and precious stones beside, + And swiftly ride to Leon, and render up my bride." + + When they were come to Leon Theresa would not go + Into her brother's dwelling, where her maiden years were spent; + But o'er her downcast visage a white veil she did throw, + And to the ancient nunnery of Las Huelgas went. + There, long, from worldly eyes retired, a holy life she led; + There she, an aged saint, expired; there sleeps she with the dead. + + + * * * * * + +D. + + +The following extract from Spinoza is worthy of attention, as +expressing the view which a man of the largest intellectual scope may +take of Woman, if that part of his life to which her influence appeals +has been left unawakened. He was a man of the largest intellect, of +unsurpassed reasoning powers; yet he makes a statement false to +history, for we well know how often men and women have ruled together +without difficulty, and one in which very few men even at the present +day--I mean men who are thinkers, like him--would acquiesce. + +I have put in contrast with it three expressions of the latest +literature. + +First, from the poems of W. E. Channing, a poem called "Reverence," +equally remarkable for the deep wisdom of its thought and the beauty +of its utterance, and containing as fine a description of one class of +women as exists in literature. + +In contrast with this picture of Woman, the happy Goddess of Beauty, +the wife, the friend, "the summer queen," I add one by the author of +"Festus," of a woman of the muse, the sybil kind, which seems painted +from living experience. + +And, thirdly, I subjoin Eugene Sue's description of a wicked but able +woman of the practical sort, and appeal to all readers whether a +species that admits of three such varieties is so easily to be classed +away, or kept within prescribed limits, as Spinoza, and those who +think like him, believe. + + + +SPINOZA. TRACTATUS POLITICI DE DEMOCRATIA. +CAPUT XI. + +Perhaps some one will here ask, whether the supremacy of Man over +Woman is attributable to nature or custom? Since, if It be human +institutions alone to which this fact is owing, there is no reason why +we should exclude women from a share in government. Experience most +plainly teaches that it is Woman's weakness which places her under the +authority of Man. It has nowhere happened that men and women ruled +together; but wherever men and women are found, the world over, there +we see the men ruling and the women ruled, and in this order of things +men and women live together in peace and harmony. The Amazons, it is +true, are reputed formerly to have held the reins of government, but +they drove men from their dominions; the male of their offspring they +invariably destroyed, permitting their daughters alone to live. Now, +if women were by nature upon an equality with men, if they equalled +men in fortitude, in genius (qualities which give to men might, and +consequently right), it surely would be the case, that, among the +numerous and diverse nations of the earth, some would be found where +both sexes ruled conjointly, and others where the men were ruled by +the women, and so educated as to be mentally inferior; and since this +state of things nowhere exists, it is perfectly fair to infer that the +rights of women are not equal to those of men; but that women must be +subordinate, and therefore cannot have an equal, far less a superior +place in the government. If, too, we consider the passions of men--how +the love men feel towards women is seldom anything but lust and +impulse, and much less a reverence for qualities of soul than an +admiration of physical beauty; observing, too, the jealousy of lovers, +and other things of the same character--we shall see at a glance that +it would be, in the highest degree, detrimental to peace and harmony, +for men and women to possess on equal share in government. + + +REVERENCE. + + As an ancestral heritage revere + All learning, and all thought. The painter's fame + Is thine, whate'er thy lot, who honorest grace. + And need enough in this low time, when they, + Who seek to captivate the fleeting notes + Of heaven's sweet beauty, must despair almost, + So heavy and obdurate show the hearts + Of their companions. Honor kindly then + Those who bear up in their so generous arms + The beautiful ideas of matchless forms; + For were these not portrayed, our human fate,-- + Which is to be all high, majestical, + To grow to goodness with each coming age, + Till virtue leap and sing for joy to see + So noble, virtuous men,--would brief decay; + And the green, festering slime, oblivious, haunt + About our common fate. O, honor them! + + But what to all true eyes has chiefest charm, + And what to every breast where beats a heart + Framed to one beautiful emotion,--to + One sweet and natural feeling, lends a grace + To all the tedious walks of common life, + This is fair Woman,--Woman, whose applause + Each poet sings,--Woman the beautiful. + Not that her fairest brow, or gentlest form, + Charm us to tears; not that the smoothest cheek, + Wherever rosy tints have made their home, + So rivet us on her; but that she is + The subtle, delicate grace,--the inward grace, + For words too excellent; the noble, true, + The majesty of earth; the summer queen; + In whose conceptions nothing but what's great + Has any right. And, O! her love for him, + Who does but his small part in honoring her; + Discharging a sweet office, sweeter none, + Mother and child, friend, counsel and repose; + Naught matches with her, naught has leave with her + To highest human praise. Farewell to him + Who reverences not with an excess + Of faith the beauteous sex; all barren he + Shall live a living death of mockery. + Ah! had but words the power, what could we say + Of Woman! We, rude men of violent phrase, + Harsh action, even in repose inwardly harsh; + Whose lives walk blustering on high stilts, removed + From all the purely gracious influence + Of mother earth. To single from the host + Of angel forms one only, and to her + Devote our deepest heart and deepest mind, + Seems almost contradiction. Unto her + We owe our greatest blessings, hours of cheer, + Gay smiles, and sudden tears, and more than these + A sure perpetual love. Regard her as + She walks along the vast still earth; and see! + Before her flies a laughing troop of joys, + And by her side treads old experience, + With never-failing voice admonitory; + The gentle, though infallible, kind advice, + The watchful care, the fine regardfulness, + Whatever mates with what we hope to find, + All consummate in her--the summer queen. + + To call past ages better than what now + Man is enacting on life's crowded stage, + Cannot improve our worth; and for the world + Blue is the sky as ever, and the stars + Kindle their crystal flames at soft fallen eve + With the same purest lustre that the east + Worshipped. The river gently flows through fields + Where the broad-leaved corn spreads out, and loads + Its ear as when the Indian tilled the soil. + The dark green pine,--green in the winter's cold,-- + Still whispers meaning emblems, as of old; + The cricket chirps, and the sweet eager birds + In the sad woods crowd their thick melodies; + But yet, to common eyes, life's poetry + Something has faded, and the cause of this + May be that Man, no longer at the shrine + Of Woman, kneeling with true reverence, + In spite of field, wood, river, stars and sea, + Goes most disconsolate. A babble now, + A huge and wind-swelled babble, fills the place + Of that great adoration which of old + Man had for Woman. In these days no more + Is love the pith and marrow of Man's fate. + Thou who in early years feelest awake + To finest impulses from nature's breath, + And in thy walk hearest such sounds of truth + As on the common ear strike without heed, + Beware of men around thee! Men are foul + With avarice, ambition and deceit; + The worst of all, ambition. This is life, + Spent in a feverish chase for selfish ends, + Which has no virtue to redeem its toil, + But one long, stagnant hope to raise the self. + The miser's life to this seems sweet and fair; + Better to pile the glittering coin, than seek + To overtop our brothers and our loves. + Merit in this? Where lies it, though thy name + Ring over distant lands, meeting the wind + Even on the extremest verge of the wide world? + Merit in this? Better be hurled abroad + On the vast whirling tide, than, in thyself + Concentred, feed upon thy own applause. + Thee shall the good man yield no reverence; + But, while the Idle, dissolute crowd are loud + In voice to send thee flattery, shall rejoice + That he has 'scaped thy fatal doom, and known + How humble faith in the good soul of things + Provides amplest enjoyment. O, my brother + If the Past's counsel any honor claim + From thee, go read the history of those + Who a like path have trod, and see a fate + Wretched with fears, changing like leaves at noon, + When the new wind sings in the white birch wood. + Learn from the simple child the rule of life, + And from the movements of the unconscious tribes + Of animal nature, those that bend the wing + Or cleave the azure tide, content to be, + What the great frame provides,--freedom and grace. + Thee, simple child, do the swift winds obey, + And the white waterfalls with their bold leaps + Follow thy movements. Tenderly the light + Thee watches, girding with a zone of radiance, + And all the swinging herbs love thy soft steps. + + + +DESCRIPTION OF ANGELA, FROM "FESTUS." + + I loved her for that she was beautiful, + And that to me she seemed to be all nature + And all varieties of things in one; + Would set at night in clouds of tears, and rise + All light and laughter in the morning; fear + No petty customs nor appearances, + But think what others only dreamed about; + And say what others did but think; and do + What others would but say; and glory in + What others dared but do; it was these which won me; + And that she never schooled within her breast + One thought or feeling, but gave holiday + To all; that she told me all her woes, + And wrongs, and ills; and so she made them mine + In the communion of love; and we + Grew like each other, for we loved each other; + She, mild and generous as the sun in spring; And + I, like earth, all budding out with love. + + * * * * * + + The beautiful are never desolate; + For some one alway loves them; God or man; + If man abandons, God himself takes them; + And thus it was. She whom I once loved died; + The lightning loathes its cloud; the soul its clay. + Can I forget the hand I took in mine, + Pale as pale violets; that eye, where mind + And matter met alike divine?--ah, no! + May God that moment judge me when I do! + O! she was fair; her nature once all spring + And deadly beauty, like a maiden sword, + Startlingly beautiful. I see her now! + Wherever thou art thy soul is in my mind; + Thy shadow hourly lengthens o'er my brain + And peoples all its pictures with thyself; + Gone, not forgotten; passed, not lost; thou wilt shine + In heaven like a bright spot in the sun! + She said she wished to die, and so she died, + For, cloudlike, she poured out her love, which was + Her life, to freshen this parched heart. It was thus; + I said we were to part, but she said nothing; + There was no discord; it was music ceased, + Life's thrilling, bursting, bounding joy. She sate, + Like a house-god, her hands fixed on her knee, + And her dark hair lay loose and long behind her, + Through which her wild bright eye flashed like a flint; + She spake not, moved not, but she looked the more, + As if her eye were action, speech, and feeling. + I felt it all, and came and knelt beside her, + The electric touch solved both our souls together; + Then came the feeling which unmakes, undoes; + Which tears the sea-like soul up by the roots, + And lashes it in scorn against the skies. + + * * * * * + + It is the saddest and the sorest sight, + One's own love weeping. But why call on God? + But that the feeling of the boundless bounds + All feeling; as the welkin does the world; + It is this which ones us with the whole and God. + Then first we wept; then closed and clung together; + And my heart shook this building of my breast + Like a live engine booming up and down; + She fell upon me like a snow-wreath thawing. + Never were bliss and beauty, love and woe, + Ravelled and twined together into madness, + As in that one wild hour to which all else + The past is but a picture. That alone + Is real, and forever there in front. + + * * * * * + + * * * After that I left her, + And only saw her once again alive. + + +"Mother Saint Perpetua, the superior of the convent, was a tall woman, +of about forty years, dressed in dark gray serge, with a long rosary +hanging at her girdle. A white mob-cap, with a long black veil, +surrounded her thin, wan face with its narrow, hooded border. A great +number of deep, transverse wrinkles ploughed her brow, which resembled +yellowish ivory in color and substance. Her keen and prominent nose +was curved like the hooked beak of a bird of prey; her black eye was +piercing and sagacious; her face was at once intelligent, firm, and +cold. + +"For comprehending and managing the material interests of the society, +Mother Saint Perpetua could have vied with the shrewdest and most wily +lawyer. When women are possessed of what is called _business +talent_, and when they apply thereto the sharpness of perception, +the indefatigable perseverance, the prudent dissimulation, and, above +all, the correctness and rapidity of judgment at first sight, which +are peculiar to them, they arrive at prodigious results. + +"To Mother Saint Perpetua, a woman of a strong and solid head, the +vast moneyed business of the society was but child's play. None better +than she understood how to buy depreciated properties, to raise them +to their original value, and sell them to advantage; the average +purchase of rents, the fluctuations of exchange, and the current +prices of shares in all the leading speculations, were perfectly +familiar to her. Never had she directed her agents to make a single +false speculation, when it had been the question how to invest funds, +with which good souls were constantly endowing the society of Saint +Mary. She had established in the house a degree of order, of +discipline, and, above all, of economy, that were indeed remarkable; +the constant aim of all her exertions being, not to enrich herself, +but the community over which she presided; for the spirit of +association, when it is directed to an object of _collective +selfishness_, gives to corporations all the faults and vices of +individuals." + + * * * * * + +E. + +The following is an extract from a letter addressed to me by one of +the monks of the nineteenth century. A part I have omitted, because it +does not express my own view, unless with qualifications which I could +not make, except by full discussion of the subject. + +"Woman in the Nineteenth Century should be a pure, chaste, holy being. + +"This state of being in Woman is no more attained by the expansion of +her intellectual capacity, than by the augmentation of her physical +force. + +"Neither is it attained by the increase or refinement of her love for +Man, or for any object whatever, or for all objects collectively; but + +"This state of being is attained by the reference of all her powers +and all her actions to the source of Universal Love, whose constant +requisition is a pure, chaste and holy life. + +"So long as Woman looks to Man (or to society) for that which she +needs, she will remain in an indigent state, for he himself is +indigent of it, and as much needs it as she does. + +"So long as this indigence continues, all unions or relations +constructed between Man and Woman are constructed in indigence, and +can produce only indigent results or unhappy consequences. + +"The unions now constructing, as well as those in which the parties +constructing them were generated, being based on self-delight, or +lust, can lead to no more happiness in the twentieth than is found in +the nineteenth century. + +"It is not amended institutions, it is not improved education, it is +not another selection of individuals for union, that can meliorate the +said result, but the _basis_ of the union must be changed. + +"If in the natural order Woman and Man would adhere strictly to +physiological or natural laws, in physical chastity, a most beautiful +amendment of the human race, and human condition, would in a few +generations adorn the world. + +"Still, it belongs to Woman in the spiritual order, to devote herself +wholly to her eternal husband, and become the Free Bride of the One +who alone can elevate her to her true position, and reconstruct her a +pure, chaste, and holy being." + + + +F. + +I have mislaid an extract from "The Memoirs of an American Lady," +which I wished to use on this subject, but its import is, briefly, +this: + +Observing of how little consequence the Indian women are in youth, and +how much in age, because in that trying life, good counsel and +sagacity are more prized than charms, Mrs. Grant expresses a wish that +reformers would take a hint from observation of this circumstance. + +In another place she says: "The misfortune of our sex is, that young +women are not regarded as the material from which old women must be +made." + +I quote from memory, but believe the weight of the remark is retained. + + * * * * * + +G. + +EURIPIDES. SOPHOCLES. + +As many allusions are made in the foregoing pages to characters of +women drawn by the Greek dramatists, which may not be familiar to the +majority of readers, I have borrowed from the papers of Miranda some +notes upon them. I trust the girlish tone of apostrophising rapture +may be excused. Miranda was very young at the time of writing, +compared with her present mental age. _Now_, she would express +the same feelings, but in a worthier garb--if she expressed them at +all. + +Iphigenia! Antigone! you were worthy to live! _We_ are fallen on +evil times, my sisters; our feelings have been checked; our thoughts +questioned; our forms dwarfed and defaced by a bad nurture. Yet hearts +like yours are in our breasts, living, if unawakened; and our minds +are capable of the same resolves. You we understand at once; those who +stare upon us pertly in the street, we cannot--could never understand. + +You knew heroes, maidens, and your fathers were kings of men. You +believed in your country and the gods of your country. A great +occasion was given to each, whereby to test her character. + +You did not love on earth; for the poets wished to show us the force +of Woman's nature, virgin and unbiased. You were women; not wives, or +lovers, or mothers. Those are great names, but we are glad to see +_you_ in untouched flower. + +Were brothers so dear, then, Antigone? We have no brothers. We see no +men into whose lives we dare look steadfastly, or to whose destinies +we look forward confidently. We care not for their urns; what +inscription could we put upon them? They live for petty successes, or +to win daily the bread of the day. No spark of kingly fire flashes +from their eyes. + +None! are there _none_? + +It is a base speech to say it. Yes! there are some such; we have +sometimes caught their glances. But rarely have they been rocked in +the same cradle as we, and they do not look upon us much; for the time +is not yet come. + +Thou art so grand and simple! we need not follow thee; thou dost not +need our love. + +But, sweetest Iphigenia! who knew _thee_, as to me thou art +known? I was not born in vain, if only for the heavenly tears I have +shed with thee. She will be grateful for them. I have understood her +wholly, as a friend should; better than she understood herself. + +With what artless art the narrative rises to the crisis! The conflicts +in Agamemnon's mind, and the imputations of Menelaus, give us, at +once, the full image of him, strong in will and pride, weak in virtue, +weak in the noble powers of the mind that depend on imagination. He +suffers, yet it requires the presence of his daughter to make him feel +the full horror of what he is to do. + + "Ah me! that breast, those cheeks, those golden tresses!" + +It is her beauty, not her misery, that makes the pathos. This is +noble. And then, too, the injustice of the gods, that she, this +creature of unblemished loveliness, must perish for the sake of a +worthless woman. Even Menelaus feels it the moment he recovers from +his wrath. + + "What hath she to do, + The virgin daughter, with my Helena! + * * Its former reasonings now + My soul foregoes. * * * * + For it is not just + That thou shouldst groan, while my affairs go pleasantly, + That those of thy house should die, and mine see the light." + + +Indeed, the overwhelmed aspect of the king of men might well move him. + + "_Men_. Brother, give me to take thy right hand. + + _Aga_. I give it, _for_ the victory is thine, and I am wretched. + I am, indeed, ashamed to drop the tear, + And not to drop the tear I am ashamed." + + +How beautifully is Iphigenia introduced; beaming more and more softly +on us with every touch of description! After Clytemnestra has given +Orestes (then an infant) out of the chariot, she says: + + "Ye females, in your arms + Receive her, for she is of tender age. + Sit here by my feet, my child, + By thy mother, Iphigenia, and show + These strangers how I am blessed in thee, + And here address thee to thy father. + + _Iphi_. O, mother! should I run, wouldst thou be angry? + And embrace my father heart to heart?" + + +With the same sweet, timid trust she prefers the request to himself, +and, as he holds her in his arms, he seems as noble as Guido's +Archangel; as if he never could sink below the trust of such a being! + +The Achilles, in the first scene, is fine. A true Greek hero; not too +good; all flushed with the pride of youth, but capable of godlike +impulses. At first, he thinks only of his own wounded pride (when he +finds Iphigenia has been decoyed to Aulis under the pretest of +becoming his wife); but the grief of the queen soon makes him superior +to his arrogant chafings. How well he says, + + "_Far as a young man may_, I will repress + So great a wrong!" + + +By seeing him here, we understand why he, not Hector, was the hero of +the Iliad. The beautiful moral nature of Hector was early developed by +close domestic ties, and the cause of his country. Except in a purer +simplicity of speech and manner, he might be a modern and a Christian. +But Achilles is cast in the largest and most vigorous mould of the +earlier day. His nature is one of the richest capabilities, and +therefore less quickly unfolds its meaning. The impression it makes at +the early period is only of power and pride; running as fleetly with +his armor on as with it off; but sparks of pure lustre are struck, at +moments, from the mass of ore. Of this sort is his refusal to see the +beautiful virgin he has promised to protect. None of the Grecians must +have the right to doubt his motives, How wise and prudent, too, the +advice he gives as to the queen's conduct! He will cot show himself +unless needed. His pride is the farthest possible remote from vanity. +His thoughts are as free as any in our own time. + + "The prophet? what is he? a man + Who speaks, 'mong many falsehoods, but few truths, + Whene'er chance leads him to speak true; when false, + The prophet is no more." + + +Had Agamemnon possessed like clearness of sight, the virgin would not +have perished, but Greece would have had no religion and no national +existence. + +When, in the interview with Agamemnon, the queen begins her speech, in +the true matrimonial style, dignified though her gesture be, and true +all she says, we feel that truth, thus sauced with taunts, will not +touch his heart, nor turn him from his purpose. But when Iphigenia, +begins her exquisite speech, as with the breathings of a lute,-- + + "Had I, my father, the persuasive voice + Of Orpheus, &c. + Compel me not + What is beneath to view. I was the first + To call thee father; me thou first didst call + Thy child. I was the first that on thy knees + Fondly caressed thee, and from thee received + The fond caress. This was thy speech to me:-- + 'Shall I, my child, e'er see thee in some house + Of splendor, happy in thy husband, live + And flourish, as becomes my dignity?' + My speech to thee was, leaning 'gainst thy cheek, + (Which with my hand I now caress): 'And what + Shall I then do for thee? Shall I receive + My father when grown old, and in my house + Cheer him with each fond office, to repay + The careful nurture which he gave my youth?' + These words are in my memory deep impressed; + Thou hast forgot them, and will kill thy child." + + +Then she adjures him by all the sacred ties, and dwells pathetically +on the circumstance which had struck even Menelaus. + + "If Paris be enamored of his bride, + His Helen,--what concerns it me? and how + Comes he to my destruction? + Look upon me; + Give me a smile, give me a kiss, my father; + That, if my words persuade thee not, in death + I may have this memorial of thy love." + + +Never have the names of father and daughter been uttered with a holier +tenderness than by Euripides, as in this most lovely passage, or in +the "Supplicants," after the voluntary death of Evadne. Iphis says: + + "What shall this wretch now do? Should I return + To my own house?--sad desolation there + I shall behold, to sink my soul with grief. + Or go I to the house of Capaneus? + That was delightful to me, when I found + My daughter there; but she is there no more. + Oft would she kiss my check, with fond caress + Oft soothe me. To a father, waxing old, + Nothing is dearer than a daughter! Sons + Have spirits of higher pitch, but less inclined + To sweet, endearing fondness. Lead me then, + Instantly lead me to my house; consign + My wretched age to darkness, there to pine + And waste away. + Old age, + Struggling with many griefs, O, how I hate thee!" + + +But to return to Iphigenia,--how infinitely melting is her appeal to +Orestes, whom she holds in her robe! + + "My brother, small assistance canst thou give + Thy friends; yet for thy sister with thy tears + Implore thy father that she may not die. + Even infants have a sense of ills; and see, + My father! silent though he be, he sues + To thee. Be gentle to me; on my life + Have pity. Thy two children by this beard + Entreat thee, thy dear children; one is yet + An infant, one to riper years arrived." + + +The mention of Orestes, then an infant, though slight, is of a +domestic charm that prepares the mind to feel the tragedy of his after +lot. When the queen says, + + "Dost thou sleep, + My son? The rolling chariot hath subdued thee; + Wake to thy sister's marriage happily." + + +we understand the horror of the doom which makes this cherished child +a parricide. And so, when Iphigenia takes leave of him after her fate +is by herself accepted,-- + + "_Iphi_. To manhood train Orestes. + _Cly_. Embrace him, for thou ne'er shalt see him more. + _Iphi_. (_To Orestes_.) Far as thou couldst, thou + didst assist thy friends,"-- + + +we know not how to blame the guilt of the maddened wife and mother. In +her last meeting with Agamemnon, as in her previous expostulations and +anguish, we see that a straw may turn the balance, and make her his +deadliest foe. Just then, came the suit of Aegisthus,--then, when +every feeling was uprooted or lacerated in her heart. + +Iphigenia's moving address has no further effect than to make her +father turn at bay and brave this terrible crisis. He goes out, firm +in resolve; and she and her mother abandon themselves to a natural +grief. + +Hitherto nothing has been seen in Iphigenia, except the young girl, +weak, delicate, full of feeling, and beautiful as a sunbeam on the +full, green tree. But, in the next scene, the first impulse of that +passion which makes and unmakes us, though unconfessed even to +herself, though hopeless and unreturned, raises her at once into the +heroic woman, worthy of the goddess who demands her. + +Achilles appears to defend her, whom all others clamorously seek to +deliver to the murderous knife. She sees him, and, fired with thoughts +unknown before, devotes herself at once for the country which has +given birth to such a man. + + "To be too fond of life + Becomes not me; nor for myself alone, + But to all Greece, a blessing didst thou bear me. + Shall thousands, when their country's injured, lift + Their shields? shall thousands grasp the oar and dare, + Advancing bravely 'gainst the foe, to die + For Greece? And shall my life, my single life, + Obstruct all this? Would this be just? What word + Can we reply? Nay more, it is not right + That he with all the Grecians should contest + In fight, should die, _and for a woman_. No! + More than a thousand women is one man + Worthy to see the light of day. + * * * for Greece I give my life. + Slay me! demolish Troy! for these shall be + Long time my monuments, my children these, + My nuptials and my glory." + + +This sentiment marks Woman, when she loves enough to feel what a +creature of glory and beauty a true _Man_ would be, as much in +our own time as that of Euripides. Cooper makes the weak Hetty say to +her beautiful sister: + +"Of course, I don't compare you with Harry. A handsome man is always +far handsomer than any woman." True, it was the sentiment of the age, +but it was the first time Iphigenia had felt it. In Agamemnon she saw +_her father_; to him she could prefer her claim. In Achilles she +saw a _Man_, the crown of creation, enough to fill the world with +his presence, were all other beings blotted from its spaces. +[Footnote: Men do not often reciprocate this pure love. + + "Her prentice han' she tried on man, + And then she made the lasses o'," + +is a fancy, not a feeling, in their more frequently passionate and +strong than noble or tender natures.] + +The reply of Achilles is as noble. Here is his bride; he feels it now, +and all his vain vaunting are hushed. + + "Daughter of Agamemnon, highly blest + Some god would make me, if I might attain + Thy nuptials. Greece in thee I happy deem, + And thee in Greece. + * * * in thy thought + Revolve this well; death is a dreadful thing." + + +How sweet it her reply,--and then the tender modesty with which she +addresses him here and elsewhere as "_stranger_" + + "Reflecting not on any, thus I speak: + Enough of wars and slaughters from the charms + Of Helen rise; but die not thou for me, + O Stranger, nor distain thy sword with blood, + But let me save my country if I may. + + _Achilles_. O glorious spirit! naught have I 'gainst this + To urge, since such thy will, for what thou sayst + Is generous. Why should not the truth be spoken?" + + +But feeling that human weakness may conquer yet, he goes to wait at +the alter, resolved to keep his promise of protection thoroughly. + +In the next beautiful scene she shows that a few tears might overwhelm +her in his absence. She raises her mother beyond weeping them, yet her +soft purity she cannot impart. + + "_Iphi_. My father, and my husband do not hate; + _Cly_. For thy dear sake fierce contest must he bear. + _Iphi_. For Greece reluctant me to death he yields; + _Cly_. Basely, with guile unworthy Atreus' son." + + +This is truth incapable of an answer, and Iphigenia attempts none. + +She begins the hymn which is to sustain her: + + "Lead me; mine the glorious fate, + To o'erturn the Phrygian state." + + +After the sublime flow of lyric heroism, she suddenly sinks back into +the tenderer feeling of her dreadful fate. + + "O my country, where these eyes + Opened on Pelasgic skies! + O ye virgins, once my pride, + In Mycenae who abide! + + CHORUS. + + Why of Perseus, name the town, + Which Cyclopean ramparts crown? + + IPHIGENIA + + Me you reared a beam of light, + Freely now I sink in night." + + +_Freely_; as the messenger afterwards recounts it. + + * * * * * + + "Imperial Agamemnon, when he saw + His daughter, as a victim to the grave, + Advancing, groaned, and, bursting into tears, + Turned from the sight his head, before his eyes, + Holding his robe. The virgin near him stood, + And thus addressed him: 'Father, I to thee + Am present; for my country, and for all + The land of Greece, I freely give myself + A victim: to the altar let them lead me, + Since such the oracle. If aught on me + Depends, be happy, and obtain the prize + Of glorious conquest, and revisit safe + Your country. Of the Grecians, for this cause, + Let no one touch me; with intrepid spirit + Silent will I present my neck.' She spoke, + And all that heard revered the noble soul + And virtue of the virgin." + + +How quickly had the fair bud bloomed up into its perfection! Had she +lived a thousand years, she could not have surpassed this. Goethe's +Iphigenia, the mature Woman, with its myriad delicate traits, never +surpasses, scarcely equals, what we know of her in Euripides. + +Can I appreciate this work in a translation? I think so, impossible as +it may seem to one who can enjoy the thousand melodies, and words in +exactly the right place, and cadence of the original. They say you can +see the Apollo Belvidere in a plaster cast, and I cannot doubt it, so +great the benefit conferred on my mind by a transcript thus imperfect. +And so with these translations from the Greek. I can divine the +original through this veil, as I can see the movements of a spirited +horse by those of his coarse grasscloth muffler. Besides, every +translator who feels his subject is inspired, and the divine Aura +informs even his stammering lips. + +Iphigenia is more like one of the women Shakspeare loved than the +others; she is a tender virgin, ennobled and strengthened by sentiment +more than intellect; what they call a Woman _par excellence_. + +Macaria is more like one of Massinger's women. She advances boldly, +though with the decorum of her sex and nation: + + "_Macaria_. Impute not boldness to me that I come + Before you, strangers; this my first request + I urge; for silence and a chaste reserve + Is Woman's genuine praise, and to remain + Quiet within the house. But I come forth, + Hearing thy lamentations, Iolaus; + Though charged with no commission, yet perhaps + I may be useful." * * + + +Her speech when she offers herself as the victim is reasonable, as one +might speak to-day. She counts the cost all through. Iphigenia is too +timid and delicate to dwell upon the loss of earthly bliss and the due +experience of life, even as much as Jephtha'a daughter did; but +Macaria is explicit, as well befits the daughter of Hercules. + + "Should _these_ die, myself + Preserved, of prosperous future could I form + One cheerful hope? + A poor forsaken virgin who would deign + To take in marriage? Who would wish for sons + From one so wretched? Better then to die, + Than bear such undeserved miseries; + One less illustrious this might more beseem. + + * * * * * + + I have a soul that unreluctantly + Presents itself, and I proclaim aloud + That for my brothers and myself I die. + I am not fond of life, but think I gain + An honorable prize to die with glory." + + +Still nobler when Iolaus proposes rather that she shall draw lots with +her sisters. + + "By _lot_ I will not die, for to such death + No thanks are due, or glory--name it not. + If you accept me, if my offered life + Be grateful to you, willingly I give it + For these; but by constraint I will not die." + + +Very fine are her parting advice and injunctions to them all: + + "Farewell! revered old man, farewell! and teach + These youths in all things to be wise, like thee, + Naught will avail them more." + + +Macaria has the clear Minerva eye; Antigone's is deeper and more +capable of emotion, but calm; Iphigenia's glistening, gleaming with +angel truth, or dewy as a hidden violet. + +I am sorry that Tennyson, who spoke with such fitness of all the +others in his "Dream of fair Women," has not of Iphigenia. Of her +alone he has not made a fit picture, but only of the circumstances of +the sacrifice. He can never have taken to heart this work of +Euripides, yet he was so worthy to feel it. Of Jephtha's daughter he +has spoken as he would of Iphigenia, both in her beautiful song, and +when + + "I heard Him, for He spake, and grief became + A solemn scorn of Ills. + + It comforts me in this one thought to dwell-- + That I subdued me to my father's will; + Because the kiss he gave me, ere I fell, + Sweetens the spirit still. + + Moreover it is written, that my race + Hewed Ammon, hip and thigh, from Arroer + Or Arnon unto Minneth. Here her face + Glowed as I looked on her. + + She looked her lips; she left me where I stood; + 'Glory to God,' she sang, and past afar, + Thridding the sombre boskage of the woods, + Toward the morning-star." + + +In the "Trojan dames" there are fine touches of nature with regard to +Cassandra. Hecuba shows that mixture of shame and reverence that prose +kindred always do, towards the inspired child, the poet, the elected +sufferer for the race. + +When the herald announces that she is chosen to be the mistress of +Agamemnon, Hecuba answers indignant, and betraying the involuntary +pride and faith she felt in this daughter. + + "The virgin of Apollo, whom the God, + Radiant with golden looks, allowed to live. + In her pure vow of maiden chastity? + _Tal_. With love the raptured virgin smote his heart. + _Hec_. Cast from thee, O my daughter, cast away + Thy sacred wand; rend off the honored wreaths, + The splendid ornaments that grace thy brows." + + +But the moment Cassandra appears, singing wildly her inspired song, +Hecuba, calls her + + "My _frantic_ child." + +Yet how graceful she is in her tragic phrenzy, the chorus shows-- + + "How sweetly at thy house's ills thou smilest, + Chanting what haply thou wilt not show true!" + + +But if Hecuba dares not trust her highest instinct about her daughter, +still less can the vulgar mind of the herald (a man not without +tenderness of heart, but with no princely, no poetic blood) abide the +wild, prophetic mood which insults his prejudices both as to country +and decorums of the sex. Yet Agamemnon, though not a noble man, is of +large mould, and could admire this strange beauty which excited +distaste in common minds. + + "_Tal_. What commands respect, and is held high + As wise, is nothing better than the mean + Of no repute; for this most potent king + Of all the Grecians, the much-honored son + Of Atreus, is enamored with his prize, + This frantic raver. I am a poor man, + Yet would I not receive her to my bed." + + +Cassandra answers, with a careless disdain, + + "This is a busy slave." + + +With all the lofty decorum of manners among the ancients, how free was +their intercourse, man to man, how full the mutual understanding +between prince and "busy slave!" Not here in adversity only, but in +the pomp of power it was so. Kings were approached with ceremonious +obeisance, but not hedged round with etiquette; they could see and +know their fellows. + +The Andromache here is just as lovely as that of the Iliad. + +To her child whom they are about to murder, the same that was +frightened at the "glittering plume," she says, + + "Dost thou weep, + My son? Hast thou a sense of thy ill fate? + Why dost thou clasp me with thy hands, why hold + My robes, and shelter thee beneath my wings, + Like a young bird? No more my Hector comes, + Returning from the tomb; he grasps no more + His glittering spear, bringing protection to thee." + + * * * * * + + * * "O, soft embrace, + And to thy mother dear. O, fragrant breath! + In vain I swathed thy infant limbs, in vain + I gave thee nurture at this breast, and tolled, + Wasted with care. _If ever_, now embrace, + Now clasp thy mother; throw thine arms around + My neck, and join thy cheek, thy lips to mine." + + +As I look up, I meet the eyes of Beatrice Cenci, Beautiful one! these +woes, even, were less than thine, yet thou seemest to understand them +all. Thy clear, melancholy gaze says, they, at least, had known +moments of bliss, and the tender relations of nature had not been +broken and polluted from the very first. Yes! the gradations of woe +are all but infinite: only good can be infinite. + +Certainly the Greeks knew more of real home intercourse and more of +Woman than the Americans. It is in vain to tell me of outward +observances. The poets, the sculptors, always tell the truth. In +proportion as a nation is refined, women _must_ have an ascendency. +It is the law of nature. + +Beatrice! thou wert not "fond of life," either, more than those +princesses. Thou wert able to cut it down in the full flower of +beauty, as an offering to _the best_ known to thee. Thou wert not +so happy as to die for thy country or thy brethren, but thou wert +worthy of such an occasion. + +In the days of chivalry, Woman was habitually viewed more as an ideal; +but I do not know that she inspired a deeper and more home-felt +reverence than Iphigenia in the breast of Achilles, or Macarla in that +of her old guardian, Iolaus. + +We may, with satisfaction, add to these notes the words to which Haydn +has adapted his magnificent music in "The Creation." + +"In native worth and honor clad, with beauty, courage, strength +adorned, erect to heaven, and tall, he stands, a Man!--the lord and +king of all! The large and arched front sublime of wisdom deep +declares the seat, and in his eyes with brightness shines the soul, +the breath and image of his God. With fondness leans upon his breast +the partner for him formed,--a woman fair, and graceful spouse. Her +softly smiling virgin looks, of flowery spring the mirror, bespeak him +love, and joy and bliss." + +Whoever has heard this music must have a mental standard as to what +Man and Woman should be. Such was marriage in Eden when "erect to +heaven _he_ stood;" but since, like other institutions, this must +be not only reformed, but revived, the following lines may be offered +as a picture of something intermediate,--the seed of the future +growth:-- + + + + +H. + +THE SACRED MARRIAGE. + + And has another's life as large a scope? + It may give due fulfilment to thy hope, + And every portal to the unknown may ope. + + If, near this other life, thy inmost feeling + Trembles with fateful prescience of revealing + The future Deity, time is still concealing; + + If thou feel thy whole force drawn more and more + To launch that other bark on seas without a shore; + And no still secret must be kept in store; + + If meannesses that dim each temporal deed, + The dull decay that mars the fleshly weed, + And flower of love that seems to fall and leave no seed-- + + Hide never the full presence from thy sight + Of mutual aims and tasks, ideals bright, + Which feed their roots to-day on all this seeming blight. + + Twin stars that mutual circle in the heaven, + Two parts for spiritual concord given, + Twin Sabbaths that inlock the Sacred Seven; + + Still looking to the centre for the cause, + Mutual light giving to draw out the powers, + And learning all the other groups by cognizance of one another's laws. + + The parent love the wedded love includes; + The one permits the two their mutual moods; + The two each other know, 'mid myriad multitudes; + + With child-like intellect discerning love, + And mutual action energising love, + In myriad forms affiliating love. + + A world whose seasons bloom from pole to pole, + A force which knows both starting-point and goal, + A Home in Heaven,--the Union in the Soul. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Woman in the Ninteenth Century +by Margaret Fuller Ossoli + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WOMAN IN THE NINTEENTH CENTURY *** + +This file should be named woman10.txt or woman10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, woman11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, woman10a.txt + +Produced by David Garcia, Yvonne Dailey, Carlo Traverso, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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