ILLUSTRATIVE SELECTION FROM ROUSSEAU.

THE EDUCATION OF WOMAN.

66

From Emile" or

66 Treatise on Education."

It is not good for man to be alone. Emile is a man. We have promised him a companion, and she must be given him. This companion is Sophie. In what region is her abode? Where shall we find her? In order to find her we must know her. Let us first know what she is, and then we shall the more easily determine the place where she dwells. And when we have found her all will not yet be done.

Sophie ought to be a woman, as Emile is a man—that is, she should have whatever is befitting the constitution of her species and of her sex, in order to fill her place in the physical and moral world. Let us, then, begin by examining the conformities and the differences between her sex and ours.

All that we know with a certainty is that the only thing in common between man and woman is the species, and that they differ only in respect of sex. Under this double point of view we find between them so many resemblances, and so many contrasts, that it is perhaps one of the wonders of Nature that she could make two beings so similar and yet constitute them so differently.

These correspondences and these differences must needs have their moral effect. This consequence is obvious, is in conformity with experience, and shows the vanity of the disputes as to the superiority or the equality of the sexes; as if each of them, answering the ends of Nature according to its particular destination, were not more perfect on that account than if it bore a greater resemblance to the other! With respect to what they

have in common, they are equal; and in so far as they are different, they are not capable of being compared. A perfect man and a perfect woman ought no more to resemble each other in mind than in features; and perfection is not susceptible of greater and less.

In the union of the sexes, each contributes equally toward the common end, but not in the same way. Hence arises the first assignable difference among their moral relations. One must be active and strong, the other passive and weak. One must needs have power and will, while it suffices that the other have little power of resistance.

This principle once established, it follows that woman is especially constituted to please man. If man ought to please her in turn, the necessity for it is less direct. His merit lies in his power; he pleases simply because he is strong. I grant that this is not the law of love, but it is the law of Nature, which is anterior even to love.

The moment it is demonstrated that man and woman are not and ought not to be constituted in the same way, either in character or in constitution, it follows that they ought not to have the same education. In following the directions of Nature, they ought to act in concert, but they ought not to do the same things; their duties have a common end, but the duties themselves are different, and consequently the tastes which direct them. After having tried to form the natural man, let us also see, in order not to leave our work incomplete, how the woman is to be formed who is befitting to this man.

Would you always be well guided? Always follow the indications of Nature. All that characterizes sex ought to be respected or established by her. You are always saying that women have faults which you have not. Your pride deceives you. They would be faults in you, but they are virtues in them; and everything would not go so well if they did not have them. Prevent these so-called faults from degenerating, but beware of destroying them.

All the faculties common to the two sexes are not equally divided, but, taken as a whole, they offset one another. Woman is worth more as a woman, but less as a man; wherever she improves her rights she has the advantage and wherever she attempts to usurp ours she remains inferior to us. Only exceptional cases can be urged against this general truth-the

usual mode of argument adopted by the gallant partisans of the fair sex.

To cultivate in women the qualities of the men, and to neglect those which are their own, is, then, obviously to work to their detriment. The shrewd among them see this too clearly to be the dupes of it. In trying to usurp our advantages, they do not abandon their own; but from this it comes to pass that, not being able to manage both properly on account of their incompatibility, they fall short of their own possibilities without attaining to ours, and thus lose the half of their value. Believe me, judicious mother, do not make of your daughter a good man, as though to give the lie to Nature, but make of her a good woman, and you may be sure that she will be worth more for herself and for us.

Does it follow that she ought to be brought up in complete ignorance, and restricted solely to the duties of the household? Shall man make a servant of his companion? Shall he deprive himself of the greatest charm of society? The better to reduce her to servitude shall he prevent her from feeling anything or knowing anything? Shall he make of her a real automaton? No, doubtless. Nature, who gives to women a mind so agreeable and so acute, has not so ordered. On the contrary, she would have them think, and judge, and love, and know, and cultivate their mind as they do their form: these are the arms which she gives them for supplementing the strength which they lack, and for directing our own. They ought to learn multitudes of things, but only those which it becomes them to know. . .

On the good constitution of mothers depends, in the first place, that of children; on the care of women depends the early education of men; and on women, again, depend their manners, their passions, their tastes, their pleasures, and even their happiness. Thus the whole education of women ought to be relative to men. To please them, to be useful to them, to make themselves loved and honored by them, to educate them when young, to care for them when grown, to counsel them, to console them, and to make life agreeable and sweet to them-these are the duties of women at all times, and what should be taught them from their infancy. So long as we do not ascend to this principle we shall miss the goal, and all the precepts which we

give them will accomplish nothing either for their happiness or for our own.

Little girls, almost from birth, have a love for dress. Not content with being pretty, they wish to be thought so. We see in their little airs that this care already occupies their minds; and they no sooner understand what is said to them than we control them by telling them what people will think of them. The same motive, very indiscreetly presented to little boys, is very far from having the same power over them. Provided they are independent and happy, they care very little as to what will be thought of them. It is only at the expense of time and labor that we subject them to the same law.

From whatever source this first lesson comes to girls, it is a very good one. Since the body is born, so to speak, before the soul, the first culture ought to be that of the body; and this order is common to both sexes. But the object of this culture is different; in one this object is the development of strength, while in the other it is the development of personal charms. Not that these qualities ought to be exclusive in each sex, but the order is simply reversed; women need sufficient strength to do with grace whatever they have to do; and men need sufficient cleverness to do with facility whatever they have to do.

The extreme lack of vigor in women gives rise to the same quality in men. Women ought not to be robust like them, but for them, in order that the men who shall be born of them may be robust also. In this respect the convents,* where the boarders have coarse fare, but many frolics, races, and sports in the open air and in gardens, are to be preferred to the home where a girl, delicately reared, always flattered or scolded, always seated under the eyes of her mother in a very close room, dares neither to rise, to walk, to speak, nor to breathe, and has not a moment's liberty for playing, jumping, running, shouting, and indulging in the petulance natural to her age; always dangerous relaxation, or badly conceived severity, but never anything according to reason. This is the way in which the young are ruined both in body and in heart.

Whatever obstructs or constrains nature is in bad taste, and this is as true of the ornaments of the body as of the ornaments of the mind. Life, health, reason, and comfort, ought

* In Rousseau's day in France almost the entire education of girls when not obtained at home, was obtained in convents.

to take precedence of everything else. There is no grace without freedom. Delicacy is not languor, and one need not be sickly in order to please. We excite pity when we suffer; but pleasure and desire seek the freshness of health.

Children of the two sexes have many amusements in common, and this ought to be so. Is not the same thing true of them when grown? They have also individual tastes which distinguish them. Boys seek movement and noise-drums, tops, carts; but girls prefer what appeals to the sight and serves for ornament-mirrors, trinkets, bits of silk, etc., and especially dolls. The doll is the especial amusement of this sex; and in this case the girls' taste is very evidently determined by her destination. The mechanics of the art of pleasing consists in dress, and this is all of this art that children can cultivate.

Observe a little girl spending her time with her doll, constantly changing its attire, dressing and undressing it hundreds of times, continually seeking for new combinations of ornaments, well or badly selected, no matter which; the fingers lack deftness, the taste has not been formed, but the disposition is already seen. In this endless occupation the time goes on without notice; the hours pass, but she takes no note of them; she even forgets to eat, and has a greater hunger for dress than for food. But, you will say, she dresses her doll, but not herself. Doubtless. She sees her doll, but does not see herself; she can do nothing for herself; she has not been developed; she has neither talent nor strength; she is all absorbed in her doll, and on it she spends all her coquetry. She will not always devote herself to it, but waits the moment when she shall be her own doll.

Here, then, is a very decided primitive taste, and you have only to follow it and regulate it. It is certain that the little one wishes with all her heart that she might adorn her doll and adjust its sleeve, its neckerchief, its furbelows, its lace; but in all this she is made to depend so rigorously on the pleasure of others that it would be very much easier for her to owe everything to her own industry. Thus appears the reason for the first lessons which are given her; they are not tasks which are prescribed for her, but kindnesses which we feel for her. And, in fact, almost all little girls learn to read and write with