Part 10

Or lay me down beside some brook, Where I may muse the livelong day, And drop my oft neglected book, To dream of others far away.

Such is the joy, the quiet bliss, Of holding converse sweet with thee, And wooing, still, thy favoring kiss Midst nature's wilds, in fancy free.

But I must bide within my room, Content to breathe, alone, thy air, And feel that it is double gloom, Because thou art so lovely, there.

A PRISONER.

For the Southern Literary Messenger.

MR. T. W. WHITE.

_Dear Sir:_--You have been so kind as to solicit something from my pen for your interesting periodical. With great pleasure I transmit the enclosed sheets, in the hope that you may find them suitable to the Messenger.

The subject I consider as particularly congenial with this delightful season, which has been truly said to constitute the "great jubilee of nature;" awakening our sympathy with young life, and drawing our attention to the promise and hazards of the vegetable creation, amid the cheerful labors of agriculture.

Nunc omnis ager, nunc omnis parturit arbos; Nunc frondent sylvæ, nunc _formosissimus annus_.

But I am sure that my subject has an interest, independent of the delightful associations of the season at which I write, and that most of your readers will be ever ready to exclaim in the gallant strain of the _sweet_ Irish Bard,

Oh woman! whose form and whose soul Are the spell and the light of each path we pursue! Whether sunn'd in the tropics, or chill'd at the pole, If woman be there, there is happiness too!

What I have written in this first number of my Dissertation, has reference principally to what may be termed the _sentimental_ portion of our nature. I must therefore beg of your readers, to suspend all judgment as to the partiality or impartiality of the execution, until I have drawn the whole picture. I am yet to compare the sexes together, in relation to the intellectual powers.

I am, sir, with high respect,

Your obedient servant,

Z. X. W.

_May 12, 1835_.

* * * * *

DISSERTATION

On the Characteristic Differences between the Sexes, and on the Position and Influence of Woman in Society.

NO. I.

When we survey with a philosophic eye the varied and complicated works of nature, there is nothing upon which the mind rests with more pleasure, than the contemplation of the harmony, the order, and the unity of design, manifested throughout. The physical philosopher points to the centripetal and centrifugal forces, to the annual and diurnal revolutions of the earth, to the periodical return of the seasons, the regular succession of day and night, to the laws of cohesion and repulsion, and shows with pride the wondrous harmony which exists in all the departments of the physical world, all working and conspiring to one great end. The political economist delights to look to the nations of the earth, composed of vast multitudes of individuals; to scan the great variety of occupations which the endless division of labor has generated, and to see how the almost countless millions of inhabitants, although each one is busily and selfishly engaged in the pursuit only of his own little narrow schemes, are nevertheless, when we embrace the grand whole, working, in as perfect harmony and accord, as if the spirit of unbounded wisdom and universal philanthropy guided every head and touched every heart.--While to the common observer, the great volume of the human mind is uninteresting, with its pages confused and scattered like the sybil leaves of antiquity, it becomes to the metaphysician who can arrange and interpret it, a source of knowledge, of pleasure, and of gratitude. He beholds the nice lineaments of feelings and passions--observes the operations of our various intellectual powers and faculties. He sees a beautiful harmony and unity of design in the whole Ideal Republic; and finds with wonder and astonishment, that all our passions, instincts and faculties are so nicely arranged in relation to each other, that, like the bodies in our planetary system, not one could be struck from existence without endangering the harmony of the whole. Thus shall we find, look where we will, through the wide range of nature's works, part corresponding to part, power to power, mind to mind, and to matter too; and the whole moving forward with that beautiful harmonious action, which at once demonstrates the illimitable wisdom of the designer,--his benevolence and his consistency. Among all these beautiful adaptations in the universe, there is not one perhaps, which presents itself to the mind under a more engaging, a more interesting aspect, than the relations of the _sexes_. To increase and multiply, seems to be the great law of animated creation; and the attractions by which the sexes are brought together for the fulfilment of this universal law, are so many, so complicate, and yet so beautiful and delightful, while shedding their benign influence over the rugged journey through life, that it is impossible to contemplate them, without an immediate acknowledgment of their sublime harmony, and of the benevolent design of him who ordered and established them. My mind of late has been more than usually engaged in the contemplation of this subject; and to amuse my leisure hours, I have determined to throw together, however loosely, some thoughts on the constitutional differences between the sexes--to point out the effects which those differences have produced upon their moral, social and political characters--to show that the position of woman in society is not an accidental one, but results from the law of nature; and that the benign and powerful influence which she exerts over the destiny of man, is due principally to that very state of things which woman is so apt to condemn. From this investigation, we cannot fail to see that a constant amelioration in her condition is calculated to enlarge and diversify the pleasures of the whole human family, while it urges forward with irresistible power, the march of civilization.

Whether there be any original natural differences between the sexes, in a moral and intellectual point of view, is a question extremely difficult to determine. Education has commenced, long before children have arrived at that age and growth of intellect, which will enable them to manifest with certainty their passions, propensities, tastes, and mental powers. The wide intellectual and moral differences existing among individuals similarly situated and similarly educated, lead us to conclude that they have different original capacities and dispositions. But so different is the education of the sexes--so different is their position in society, that we cannot say with certainty, whether their moral and intellectual differences are due wholly to education, or partly to nature. The discussion of this question I shall waive, as not being of much importance to the view which I propose to take of the subject, and shall proceed to show how the education of the two sexes is calculated to produce the differences which we observe among them, and how their relative positions in society are the results of the force of circumstances, and not of accident, as some have most ingeniously contended; and this I hope to be enabled to show, even upon the supposition of perfect _intellectual equality_ between the sexes at birth.

Before entering upon this subject, it is proper to state, that I use the word _education_ in its most extended sense,--to mean not only the moral and intellectual discipline which we derive from our parents and teachers, but to include the influence of physical organization, of the physical circumstances by which we are surrounded, of opinion--in fine, all those influences which are extraneous to the mind itself, but capable of forming and directing it. There is both a physical and moral education, to which we are constantly subjected, from birth to manhood, entirely independent of professed teachers, which perhaps exercises the greatest sway in the formation of our characters. Most persons are apt to forget, in the calculation of character, the effect of physical circumstances; but these must never be lost sight of. Physics govern morals, to a certain extent, all over the world. It is impossible to withdraw ourselves wholly from the influence of physical causes. In the beautiful language of Mr. Allison, "Wander where we will, trees wave, rivers flow, mountains ascend, clouds darken, or winds animate the face of heaven; and over the whole scenery, the sun sheds the cheerfulness of his morning, the splendor of his noonday, or the tenderness of his evening light;--there is not one of these features of scenery, which is not fitted to waken us to moral emotion; to lead us, when once the key of our imagination is struck, to trains of fascinating and endless imagery; and in the indulgence of them, to make our bosoms either glow with conceptions of mental excellence, or melt in the dreams of moral good. Even upon the man of the most uncultivated taste, the scenes of nature have some inexplicable charm: there is not a chord perhaps of the human heart, which may not be awakened by their influence." Again, let us wander where we will, and in vain shall we attempt to escape the moral influences which are exerted around us. Opinions, manners, customs, fashions, &c. exercise a silent, but potent sway, from which none can hope to be exempt. We sometimes indulge the wish of flying from our native land, to escape these influences in a foreign clime. How vain the wish! Go where we will, the mighty spell is still laid over us--the enchantment is still unbroken--and as long as man's nature remains unchanged, so long must he be subject to the guidance and direction of that mighty physical and moral machinery, which if ever at work around him, silently developing and forming his character. These causes, in their all pervading influences, may almost be considered as emblematical of the omnipresence of the Divinity. In our remarks then, upon the distinctive characteristics of the sexes, it is proper to commence first with the operation of physical causes; and among these, without doubt the difference of physical organization exercises the most powerful influence--perhaps so powerful as to be itself sufficient to account for all the characteristic differences between man and woman. Of course, the remarks which follow, apply to the entire sexes, and not to individual cases; for the individual female will frequently be found to have all the masculine traits of character more perfectly developed than the individual man. Few men, for example, can be compared with an Edgeworth or De Stael in point of intellect--and few have shown more persevering courage and masculine heroism, than Queen Margaret of England, or Joan d'Arc of France; but these are specimens from which we can draw no just conclusions concerning the entire sex.

_Physical Differences between the Sexes, and their Immediate Effects_.

What then is the difference in physical organization? "Woman," says Voltaire, "is in general less strong than man; smaller and less capable of lasting labor. Her blood is more aqueous; her flesh less firm; her hair longer; her limbs more rounded; her arms less muscular; her mouth smaller; her hips more prominent, and her abdomen larger. These physical points distinguish woman all over the earth, and of all races, from Lapland unto the coast of Guinea, and from America to China."[1] The physiologists all agree in the main points of difference here asserted. They say that woman differs from man in the whole of her lower stature--in the delicacy of her organization--in the predominance of her lymphatic and cellular system, which softens down the projections of the muscles, and gives to all her limbs those rounded and graceful forms, of which we see in the Venus de Medicis the inimitable model. "In woman, sensibility is also more exquisite; and, with less strength, her mobility is greater. The female skeleton even, is easily distinguished from that of the male, by striking differences. The asperities of the bones are less prominent; the clavicle is less curved; the chest shorter, but more expanded; the sternum shorter, but wider; the pelvis more capacious,"[2] &c. Comparing the sexes together then, all over the world, man appears to be decidedly the stronger and better formed for war, for hard and persevering labor; woman for retirement, for the mild and less laborious occupations. The camp, the field, the woods, and the sea seem to be the natural theatres for the display of man's powers. Woman fills with peculiar grace, all the domestic occupations and sedentary employments. In fact, the same amount of exercise is not necessary to the preservation of her health, as for that of man. Hence she is more naturally sedentary and quiet, and perhaps less industrious. Her labor, in a purely politico-economical light, is universally considered less valuable. The severer labors of cutting, mauling, ditching, carpentry, masonry, &c. are performed by men. The management of children, sewing, knitting, washing, &c. are performed most frequently by women. The working in lace, Rousseau considered an occupation particularly suited to a delicate modest female. He never could exercise the slightest patience towards men tailors. The needle and sword ought not to be managed by the same hands. In his _Emile_, he says, "If I were sovereign, I would not permit sewing and the occupations of the needle to any but women and lame men."

[Footnote 1: See Phil. Dic. Vol. 6, Art. Woman.]

[Footnote 2: Richerand's Physiology. Chapman and Goodman's Edition: p. 381.]

Occupation produces a mighty influence on character. Women in all countries will talk about their dresses and domestic matters: Men talk of war, politics, horse-racing, field sports, and the labors of the farm. At a very early period of life, we find the boy delighting in his top, his bow and arrows, and his mimic wagon or cart. The girl finds most pleasure in dolls, in pretty dresses and glittering toys, which amuse her without much exertion on her part. "With what a languid yawn," says Mary Woolstoncraft in her Rights of Woman, "have I seen an admirable poem thrown down, that a man of true taste returns to again and again with rapture; and whilst melody has almost suspended respiration, a lady has asked me where I bought my gown." And whilst the men converse about business, politics or literature, "how naturally," says Swift, "do women apply their hands to each other's lappets and ruffles." The learned lady whom I have just referred to, might have saved herself a great deal of vexation and pretended mortification, if she had only reflected, that difference in occupation between the sexes is due principally to difference in physical organization; and that the conversation of men and women will always run more or less upon their occupations. Our very dreams are but too frequently dictated by the occupations which engage us. Queen Mab gallops

"Through lover's brains, and then they dream of love; On courtier's knees, that dream on court'sies straight; O'er lawyer's fingers, who straight dream on fees. And sometimes comes she with a tithe pig's tail, Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep-- Then dreams he of another benefice: Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats; Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades; Of healths five fathoms deep: and then anon Drums in his ear--at which he starts and wakes; And being thus frighten'd, swears a prayer or two, And sleeps again."

_Relative Position of the Sexes in Society_.

The relative position of the sexes in the social and political world, may certainly be looked upon as the result of organization. The greater physical strength of man, enables him to occupy the foreground in the picture. He leaves the domestic scenes; he plunges into the turmoil and bustle of an active, selfish world; in his journey through life, he has to encounter innumerable difficulties, hardships and labors which constantly beset him. His mind must be nerved against them. Hence courage and boldness are his attributes. It is his province, undismayed, to stand against the rude shocks of the world; to meet with a lion's heart, the dangers which threaten him. He is the shield of woman, destined by nature to guard and protect her. Her inferior strength and sedentary habits confine her within the domestic circle; she is kept aloof from the bustle and storm of active life; she is not familiarized to the out of door dangers and hardships of a cold and scuffling world: timidity and modesty are her attributes. In the great strife which is constantly going forward around her, there are powers engaged which her inferior physical strength prevents her from encountering. She must rely upon the strength of others; man must be engaged in her cause. How is he to be drawn over to her side? Not by menace--not by force; for weakness cannot, by such means, be expected to triumph over might. No! It must be by conformity to that character which circumstances demand for the sphere in which she moves; by the exhibition of those qualities which delight and fascinate--which are calculated to win over to her side the proud lord of creation, and to make him an humble suppliant at her shrine. Grace, modesty and loveliness are the charms which constitute her power. By these, she creates the magic spell that subdues to her will the more mighty physical powers by which she is surrounded. Her attributes are rather of a passive than active character. Her power is more emblematical of that of divinity: it subdues without an effort, and almost creates by mere volition;--whilst man must wind his way through the difficult and intricate mazes of philosophy; with pain and toil, tracing effects to their causes, and unravelling the deep mysteries of nature--storing his mind with useful knowledge, and exercising, training and perfecting his intellectual powers, whilst he cultivates his strength and hardens and matures his courage; all with a view of enabling him to assert his rights, and exercise a greater sway over those around him. Woman we behold dependant and weak; but out of that very weakness and dependance springs an irresistible power. She may pursue her studies too--not however with a view of triumphing in the senate chamber--not with a view to forensic display--not with a view of leading armies to combat, or of enabling her to bring into more formidable action the physical power which nature has conferred on her. No! It is but the better to perfect all those feminine graces, all those fascinating attributes, which render her the centre of attraction, and which delight and charm all those who breathe the atmosphere in which she moves; and, in the language of Mr. Burke, would make ten thousand swords leap from their scabbards to avenge the insult that might be offered to her. By her very meekness and beauty does she subdue all around her. The Grecian poet of old has told us where her power lies.

"To woman what does nature give? Beauty she gives instead of darts; Beauty instead of shields imparts: Nor can the fire nor sword oppose The fair, victorious where she goes."

We must recollect, however, that it is beauty of mind, of grace, of accomplishment; and not beauty of person alone, which constitutes her power. When the beautiful mother of mankind is described by the matchless poet, he mentions not one _purely_ physical trait of beauty.

"Grace was in all her steps; heaven in her eye: In all her gestures dignity and love."

When Juno too, tries the old and successful cheat of love with her imperial husband, the poet of antiquity makes her borrow the beauties of mind, rather than those of body.

"The gentle vow, the gay desire, The kind deceit, the still reviving fire; Persuasive speech, and more persuasive sighs, Silence that spoke, and eloquence of eyes."

Even Waller, the sycophantic poet of a corrupt and profligate court, pays all due homage to the beauty of mind.

"Oh, my lovely foe, Tell me where thy strength doth lie-- Where the power that _charms_ me so: In thy soul, or in thine eye."

As woman then cannot conquer by physical strength, she must depend upon other attributes of a more passive quality. The following little anecdote well illustrates the characteristic differences between the sexes in this respect. I was once giving a handsome and accomplished lady a description of the Menagerie Royal at Paris, and was describing the apartment of a large ferocious lion that had been brought from Africa. The apartment was double, with a partition wall between the chambers. Whilst the lion would be in one chamber eating, it was the custom of the keeper to go into the other for the purpose of cleaning it out, taking care to shut the door between them. One day he neglected this; and the lion leaving the meat which he had been devouring, suddenly entered the room, advanced to the man, who backed against the wall, then leaped upon his breast, and looked him steadily in the face. Just at this point, I paused and asked the lady, for she seemed agitated, what she would have done in a similar crisis. Her answer was characteristic indeed: I would have _kissed_ him! Now I assert that there is not a man in the wide world who would have ever thought of appeasing the wrath of the monarch of the forest by a kiss. His power does not depend on a kiss. From him it is not sufficiently appreciated to make it coveted by others, and therefore a source of his power. But with woman it is far otherwise; it is one of her most potent means--a sort of reserve, not to be resorted to but under the pressure of necessity. Had you addressed the same question to man, he would have told you, that he would have stood quiet and firm, (as did the individual just mentioned,) till assistance could be brought; or he would have summoned up all his courage and all his strength for one desperate effort, and attempted to hurl the lion from him; but never would he have thought of purchasing his life by giving him a kiss. This is one of woman's resources in the hour of peril, and woman alone would ever have thought of it.

In that darkest and most dismal hour of Josephine's life, when the dread secret of the divorce was first hinted to her by that great but wily and unprincipled statesman Fouche, how does she act? In all the agony and concentrated grief which preys upon her heart, she seeks in his chamber the solitary chieftain, whose martial prowess had shaken all the thrones of Europe, and filled the world with a fame which eclipsed that of the Cæsars and Alexanders--she seats herself in his lap--she strokes back the hair from his forehead: in the mild and faltering tone of injured honor, she asks him if it be so? He answers no! And with beauty, grace and tears supplicating, who could have answered otherwise! Then imprinting a kiss upon his brow, she asks the dismission of Fouche as an earnest of his attachment. This was denied her; and at that moment despair seized upon her heart. She knew her power was gone--the charm was broken--the spell was dissolved. Ambition triumphed over love. But the Colossus of Europe could have told you, that the melancholy triumph of that moment, had cost him more than the conquest of kingdoms and the dethronement of monarchs; or he could have told you afterwards, that when he for the first time beheld the barren rock of St. Helena, with that countenance unmoved and unchanged, which so astonished those who observed it,--the internal struggle by which he chained down the conflicting emotions of his soul, was not to be compared with that which could firmly resist the request of a beloved but injured wife in tears.

_Points of Honor in the Sexes_.