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CHAPTER VI
THE EFFECT WHICH AN EARLY ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS HAS UPON THE CHARACTER
Educated in the enervating style recommended by the
writers on whom I have been animadverting; and not having a chance, from their
subordinate state in society, to recover their lost ground, is it surprising
that women everywhere appear a defect in nature? Is it surprising, when we
consider what a determinate effect an early association of ideas has on the
character, that they neglect their understandings, and turn all their attention
to their persons? The great advantages which naturally result from
storing the mind with knowledge, are obvious from the following considerations.
The association of our ideas is either habitual or instantaneous; and the
latter mode seems rather to depend on the original temperature of the mind than
on the will. When the ideas, and matters of fact, are once taken in, they lie by
for use, till some fortuitous circumstance makes the information dart into the
mind with illustrative force, that has been received at very different periods
of our lives. Like the lightning's flash are many recollections; one idea
assimilating and explaining another, with astonishing rapidity. I do not now
allude to that quick perception of truth, which is so intuitive that it baffles
research, and makes us at a loss to determine whether it is reminiscence or
ratiocination, lost sight of in its celerity, that opens the dark cloud. Over
those instantaneous associations we have little power; for when the mind is
once enlarged by excursive flights, or profound reflection, the raw materials
will, in some degree, arrange themselves. The understanding, it is true, may
keep us from going out of drawing when we group our thoughts, or transcribe
from the imagination the warm sketches of fancy; but the animal spirits, the
individual character, give the colouring. Over this subtile electric fluid,1
how little power do we possess, and over it how little power can reason obtain.
These fine intractable spirits appear to be the essence of genius, and beaming
in its eagle eye, produce in the most eminent degree the happy energy of
associating thoughts that surprise, delight, and instruct These are the glowing
minds that concentrate pictures for their fellow-creatures; forcing them to
view with interest the objects reflected from the impassioned imagination,
which they passed over in nature. I must be allowed to explain myself. The generality
of people cannot see or feel poetically, they want fancy, and therefore fly
from solitude in search of sensible objects; but when an author lends them his
eyes they can see as he saw, and be amused by images they could not select, though
lying before them. Education thus only supplies the man of genius with
knowledge to give variety and contrast to his associations; but there is an
habitual association of ideas, that grows "with our growth," which
has a great effect on the moral character of mankind, and by which a turn is
given to the mind that commonly remains throughout life. So ductile is the
understanding, and yet so stubborn, that the associations which depend on
adventitious circumstances, during the period that the body takes to arrive at
maturity, can seldom be disentangled by reason. one idea calls up another, its
old associate, and memory, faithful to the first impressions, particularly when
the intellectual powers are not employed to cool our sensations, retraces them
with mechanical exactness. This habitual slavery, to first impressions, has a
more baneful effect on the female than the male character, because business and
other dry employments of the understanding, tend to deaden the feelings and
break associations that do violence to reason. But females, who are made women
of when they are mere children, and brought back to childhood when they ought
to leave the go-cart for ever, have not sufficient strength of mind to efface
the superinductions of art that have smothered nature. Everything that they see or hear serves to fix
impressions, call forth emotions, and associate ideas, that give a sexual
character to the mind. False notions of beauty and delicacy stop the growth of
their limbs and produce a sickly soreness, rather than delicacy of organs; and
thus weakened by being employed in unfolding instead of examining the first
associations, forced on them by every surrounding object, how can they attain
the vigour necessary to enable them to throw off their factitious character? — where
find strength to recur to reason and rise superior to a system of oppression,
that blasts the fair promises of spring? This cruel association of ideas, which
everything conspires to twist into all their habits of thinking, or, to speak
with more precision, of feeling, receives new force when they begin to act a
little for themselves; for they then perceive that it is only through their
address to excite emotions in men, that pleasure and power are to be obtained.
Besides, the books professedly written for their instruction, which make the
first impression on their minds, all inculcate the same opinions. Educated then
in worse than Egyptian bondage, it is unreasonable, as well as cruel, to
upbraid them with faults that can scarcely be avoided, unless a degree of
native vigour be supposed, that falls to the lot of very few amongst mankind. For instance, the severest sarcasms have been
levelled against the sex, and they have been ridiculed for repeating "a
set of phrases learnt by rote," when nothing could be more natural,
considering the education they receive, and that their "highest praise is
to obey, unargued" — the will of man. If they be not allowed to have
reason sufficient to govern their own conduct — why, all they learn must be learned by rote!
And when all their ingenuity is called forth to adjust their dress, "a
passion for a scarlet coat," is so natural, that it never surprised me;
and, allowing Pope's summary of their character to be just, "that every
woman is at heart a rake," why should they be bitterly censured for
seeking a congenial mind, and preferring a rake to a man of sense? Rakes know how to work on their sensibility, whilst
the modest merit of reasonable men has, of course, less effect on their
feelings, and they cannot reach the heart by the way of the understanding,
because they have few sentiments in common. It seems a little absurd to expect women to be more
reasonable than men in their likings, and still to deny them the uncontrolled
use of reason. When do men fall in love with sense? When do they, with their
superior powers and advantages, turn from the person to the mind? And how can
they then expect women, who are only taught to observe behaviour, and acquire
manners rather than morals, to despise what they have been all their lives
labouring to attain? Where are they suddenly to find judgment enough to weigh
patiently the sense of an awkward virtuous man, when his manners, of which they
are made critical judges, are rebuffing, and his conversation cold and dull,
because it does not consist of pretty repartees, or well-turned compliments? In
order to admire or esteem anything for a continuance, we must, at least, have
our curiosity excited by knowing, in some degree, what we admire; for we are
unable to estimate the value of qualities and virtues above our comprehension.
Such a respect, when it is felt, may be very sublime; and the confused
consciousness of humility may render the dependent creature an interesting
object, in some points of view; but human love must have grosser ingredients;
and the person very naturally will come in for its share — and, an ample share
it mostly has! Love is, in a great degree, an arbitrary passion, and
will reign, like some other stalking mischiefs, by its own authority, without
deigning to reason; and it may also be easily distinguished from esteem, the
foundation of friendship, because it is often excited by evanescent beauties
and graces, though, to give an energy to the sentiment, son deepen their
impression and set the make the most fair — the first good. Common passions are excited by look for beauty and
the simper of women are captivated by easy manners; a gentleman-like man seldom
fails to please them, and their thirsty ears eagerly drink the insinuating
nothings of politeness, whilst they turn from the unintelligible sounds of the
charmer — reason, charm he never so wisely. With respect to superficial
accomplishments, the rake certainly has the advantage; and of these females can
form an opinion, for it is their own ground. Rendered gay and giddy by the
whole tenor of their lives, the very aspect of wisdom, or the severe graces of
virtue, must have a lugubrious appearance to them; and produce a kind of
restraint from which they and love, sportive child, naturally revolt. Without taste,
excepting of the lighter kind, for taste is the offspring of judgment, how can
they discover that true beauty and grace must arise from the play of the mind?
and how can they be expected to relish in a lover what they do not, or very
imperfectly, possess themselves? The sympathy that unites hearts, and invites
to confidence, in them is so very faint, that it cannot take fire, and thus
mount to passion. No, I repeat it, the love cherished by such minds, must have
grosser fuel! The inference is obvious; till women are led to
exercise their understandings, they should not be satirised for their
attachment to rakes; or even for being rakes at heart, when it appears to be
the inevitable consequence of their education. They who live to please — must
find their enjoyments, their happiness, in pleasure! It is a trite, yet true
remark, that we never do anything well, unless we love it for its own sake. Supposing, however, for a moment, that women were, in
some future revolution of time, to become, what I sincerely wish them to be,
even love would acquire more serious dignity, and be purified in its own fires;
and virtue giving true delicacy to their affections, they would turn with
disgust from a rake. Reasoning then, as well as feeling, the only province of woman,
at present, they might easily guard against exterior graces, and quickly learn
to despise the sensibility that had been excited and hackneyed in the ways of
women, whose trade was vice; and allurements, wanton airs. They would recollect
that the flame, one must use appropriated expressions, which they wished to
light up, had been exhausted by lust, and that the sated appetite, losing all
relish for pure and simple pleasures, could only be roused by licentious arts
or variety. What satisfaction could a woman of delicacy promise herself in a
union with such a man, when the very artlessness of her affection might appear
insipid? Thus does Dryden describe the situation, Where love is duty, on the female side, On theirs
mere sensual gust, and sought with surly pride. But one grand truth women have yet to learn, though
much it imports them to act accordingly. In the choice of a husband, they
should not be led astray by the qualities of a lover — for a lover the husband,
even supposing him to be wise and virtuous, cannot long remain. Were women more rationally educated, could they take
a more comprehensive view of things, they would be contented to love but once
in their lives; and after marriage calmly let passion subside into friendship —
into that tender intimacy, which is the best refuge from care; yet is built on
such pure, still affections, that idle jealousies would not be allowed to
disturb the discharge of the sober duties of life, or to engross the thoughts
that ought to be otherwise employed. This is a state in which many men live;
but few, very few, women. And the difference may easily be accounted for,
without recurring to a sexual character. Men, for whom we are told women were
made, have too much occupied the thoughts of women; and this association has so
entangled love with all their motives of action; and, to harp a little on an
old string, having been solely employed either to prepare themselves to excite
love, or actually putting their lessons in practice, they cannot live without
love. But, when a sense of duty, or fear of shame, obliges them to restrain
this pampered desire of pleasing beyond certain lengths, too far for delicacy,
it is true, though far from criminality, they obstinately determine to love, I
speak of the passion, their husbands to the end of the chapter — and then
acting the part which they foolishly exacted from their lovers, they become
abject wooers and fond slaves. Men of wit and fancy are often rakes; and fancy is
the food of love. Such men will inspire passion. Half the sex, in its present
infantine state, would pine for a Lovelace; a man so witty, so graceful, and so
valiant: and can they deserve blame for acting according to principles so
constantly inculcated? They want a lover, and protector; and behold him
kneeling before them — bravery prostrate to beauty! The virtues of a husband
are thus thrown by love into the background, and gay hopes, or lively emotions,
banish reflection till the day of reckoning come; and come it surely will, to
turn the sprightly lover into a surly suspicious tyrant, who contemptuously
insults the very weakness he fostered. or, supposing the rake reformed, he
cannot quickly get rid of old habits. When a man of abilities is first carried
away by his passions, it is necessary that sentiment and taste varnish the
enormities of vice, and give a zest to brutal indulgences; but when the gloss
of novelty is worn off, and pleasure palls upon the sense, lasciviousness
becomes barefaced, and enjoyment only the desperate effort of weakness flying
from reflection as from a legion of devils. Oh! virtue, thou art not an empty
name! All that life can give — thou givest! If much comfort cannot be expected from the
friendship of a reformed rake of superior abilities, what is the consequence
when he lacketh sense, as well as principles? Verily misery, in its most
hideous shape. When the habits of weak people are consolidated by time, a
reformation is barely possible; and actually makes the beings miserable who
have not sufficient mind to be amused by innocent pleasure; like the tradesman
who retires from the hurry of business, Nature presents to them only a
universal blank; and the restless thoughts prey on the damped spirits.2
The reformation, as well as his retirement, actually makes them wretched,
because it deprives them of all employment, by quenching the hopes and fears
that set in motion their sluggish minds. If such be the force of habit; if such be the bondage
of folly, how carefully ought we to guard the mind from storing up vicious
associations; and equally careful should we be to cultivate the understanding,
to save the poor wight from the weak dependent state of even harmless
ignorance. For it is the right use of reason alone which make us independent of
everything — excepting the unclouded reason — "Whose service is perfect
freedom." 1 I have
sometimes, when inclined to laugh at materialists, asked whether, as the most
powerful effects in nature are apparently produced by fluids, the magnetic,
etc., the passions might not be fine volatile fluids that embraced humanity,
keeping the more refractory elementary parts together -or whether they were
simply a liquid fire that pervaded the more sluggish materials, giving them
life and heat? 2 I have
frequently seen this exemplified in women whose beauty could no longer be
repaired. They have retired from the noisy scenes of dissipation; but unless
they became Methodists, the solitude of the select society of their family
connections or acquaintance, has presented only a fearful void; consequently,
nervous complaints, and all the vapourish train of idleness, rendered them
quite as useless, and far more unhappy than when they joined the giddy throng. |