I send you herewith the Enclos’d, that you may see there are those, that tho’ they differ in my Opinion, yet can treat me with good Breeding: The Candour and Ingenuity of this Gentleman, makes me regret his being unknown to me, because it deprives me of the proper means of Acknowledgment: For tho’ I can’t in all points mention’d be convinc’d by his Arguments, yet I must confess my Self throughout overcome, and made a Proselite to his Civility. I wish I had his Leave to make it publick, which I dare not presume to do without it: I am confident e’ry civil Woman, as well as Man, wou’d think her self oblig’d to him, even while he pleads for the subjection of her whole Sex. If I should ever be induc’d to prosecute this Subject (which is far from being exhausted by all that I, or others, have written upon it) any farther; I shou’d think my self oblig’d to yield to his Arguments, or produce my own Reasons for my Dissent; and shall, I am confident, have more cause to blush for his Complements, than his Opposition.
Here, Sir, Gratitude compels me to return you and him Thanks, for those obliging fine things you are pleas’d to say of me; tho’ they have an effect on me quite contrary to your Design; for, I believe, you generously intended to encourage me by ’em; but they have humbl’d me, by giving such admirable means to measure the disproportion between how I write, and how I ought to write. I am sensible of the native courseness of my Mettal, (tho’ without the Alloy some wou’d find in it) and if it has met with general Acceptance, ’tis the Stamp you have put upon it has made it current: Yet, with the sincerity of a Friend, permit me to advise you against my own Interest: Let your Complaisance prevail no more against your Opinion, for fear the World shou’d suspect, that you had either lost your Judgment, or alter’d your Standard. ’Tis no vain Opinion of my own Lustre, that makes me seek Obscurity, but a just Consciousness; that like a Glow-worm, ’tis to that only I am beholding for the notice that is taken of me; and if I Affect the shade, ’tis out of a fear of disappearing in the Sun-shine of better Authors. Nor am I without my Apprehensions, that your obliging Letter, like the Sun let in upon a common fire, may extinguish what it was design’d to cherish. This Advantage however I reap by being unknown, that I frequently hear unsuspected, the unbiass’d Opinions of those that criticize upon me, and scarce, without Scorn, hear most Men pronounce it a Performance upove the Ability of a Woman, yet none Answer the Arguments in it to the contrary. But of all the nice Judges, the pleasantest are those that think the Stile too Masculine: But, with their leave, I think I may boldly advance, that let them form themselves with equal Care, by the same Models, and they will no more be able to discern a Man’s Stile from a Woman’s, than they can tell whether this was written with a Goose Quill, or a Gander’s: But I shall not trouble you, nor my self any longer about ’em, but leave ’em to the liberty of their censure, and only assure you, that I am
Sir,
| Feb. 15. | Your real Friend | ||
| 1696. | |||
| and Servant | |||
Section 1
AN ESSAY In Defence of the Female Sex
THE Conversation we had ’tother day, makes me, Dear Madam, but more sensible of the unreasonableness of your desire; which obliges me to inform you further upon a Subject, wherein I have more need of your instruction. The strength of Judgment, sprightly Fancy, and admirable Address, you shew’d upon that Occasion, speak you so perfect a Mistress of that Argument (as I doubt not but you are of any other that you please to engage in) that whoever, would speak or write well on it, ought first to be your Schollar. Yet to let you see how absolutely you may command me, I had rather be your Eccho, than be silent when You bid me speak, and beg your excuse rather for my Failures, than want of Complacence. I know You will not accuse me for a Plagiary if I return You nothing, but what I have glean’d from You, when You consider, that I pretend not to make a Present, but to pay the Interest only of a Debt. Nor can you tax me with Vanity, since no Importunity of a Person less lov’d or valu’d by me than your self could have extorted thus much from me. This Consideration leaves me no room to doubt but that you will with your usual Candour pardon those Defects, and correct those Errors, which proceed only from an over forward Zeal to oblige You, though to my own Disadvantage.
The defence of our Sex against so many and so great Wits as have so strongly attack’d it, may justly seem a Task too difficult for a Woman to attempt. Not that I can, or ought to yield, that we are by Nature less enabled for such an Enterprize, than Men are; which I hope at least to shew plausible Reasons for, before I have done: But because through the Usurpation of Men, and the Tyranny of Custom (here in England especially) there are at most but a few, who are by Education, and acquir’d Wit, or Letters, sufficiently quallified for such an Undertaking. For my own part I shall readily own, that as few as there are, there may be and are abundance, who in their daily Conversations approve themselves much more able, and sufficient Assertors of our Cause, than my self; and I am sorry that either their Business, their other Diversions, or too great Indulgence of their Ease, hinder them from doing publick Justice to their Sex. The Men by Interest or Inclination are so generally engag’d against us, that it is not to be expected, that any one Man of Wit should arise so generous as to engage in our Quarrel, and be the Champion of our Sex against the Injuries and Oppressions of his own. Those Romantick days are over, and there is not so much as a Don Quixot of the Quill left to succour the distressed Damsels. ’Tis true, a Feint of something of this Nature was made three or four Years since by one; but how much soever his Engenia may be oblig’d to him, I am of Opinion the rest of her Sex are but little beholding to him. For as you rightly observ’d, Madam, he has taken more care to give an Edge to his Satyr, than force to his Apology; he has play’d a sham Prize, and receives more thrusts than he makes; and like a false Renegade fights under our Colours only for a fairer Opportunity of betraying us. But what could be expected else from a Beau? An Annimal that can no more commend in earnest a Womans Wit, than a Man’s Person, and that compliments ours only to shew his own good Breeding and Parts. He levels his Scandal at the whole Sex, and thinks us sufficiently fortified, that if out of the Story of Two Thousand Years he has been able to pick up a few Examples of Women illustrious for their Wit, Learning or Vertue, and Men infamous for the contrary; though I think the most inveterate of our Enemies would have spar’d him that labour, by granting that all Ages have produc’d Persons famous or infamous of both Sexes; or they must throw up all pretence to Modesty, or Reason.
I have neither Learning, nor Inclination to make a Precedent, or indeed any use to Mr. W’s. labour’d Common Place Book; and shall leave Pedants and School-Boys to rake and tumble the Rubbish of Antiquity, and muster all the Heroes and Heroins they can find to furnish matter for some wretched Harangue, or stuff a miserable Declamation with instead of Sense or Argument.
Some advantages to be allow‘d to the disparity of Education
I shall not enter into any dispute, whether Men, or Women, be generally more ingenious, or learned; that Point must be given up to the advantages Men have over us by their Education, Freedom of Converse, and variety of Business and Company. But when any Comparison is made between ’em, great allowances must be made for the disparity of those