This column first appeared in the Victoria Daily Times on July 30, 1938.
I have a great treasure in my possession now, a book just 100聽years old, entitled The Women of England, and written by a woman. Her name appears as 鈥淢rs. Ellis鈥� on the title page, but in the comparative privacy of the preface she signs herself 鈥淪arah Stickney Ellis.鈥�
Sarah begins her book by defining her sphere of writing. She does not propose to touch on law, commerce or politics. These belong to the sterner sex, but the home comforts and fireside virtues can, she says, be treated by a woman without presumption.
鈥淲omen are not what they used to be.鈥� Even then. They never have been. Sarah blames the type of education that women have received. It has left many of them listless, restless and impractical.
Sarah has clear-cut opinions on women鈥檚 place in the world. They have but one contribution to make and that is disinterested kindness.
鈥淟ook at all the heroines, whether of romance or reality 鈥� all who have gone down to honoured graves amongst the tears and lamentations of their survivors. Have these been the learned and accomplished, who knew many languages, who could solve problems, or elucidate systems of philosophy? No.
鈥淲oman with all her accumulations of minute disquietudes, her weakness and her sensibility, is but a meager item in the catalogue of humanity. Never was any woman great because of herself, but there is a voice in women鈥檚 heart too strong for education, a principle which the march of intellect has not been able to overflow.鈥�
Sarah did not think much of the system of education in England. It placed a premium on scholarship. She mentions the case of a little girl who was very dull 鈥� to whom learning was a great bore. But she had a heart of gold, and only wished to be loved and trusted. Her friend was the 鈥渂est grammarian in the school, and the little dull girl would not think it was delicate to try to advance before her friend, so she gently falls back, is reported for her dullness and finally despised.鈥�
Her friend, the smart girl, is noble too, and she determines to stay by her friend at the foot of the class, so she can whisper the correct answers to every question proposed. There they stand, the two lowest, but noblest! The smart girl was fully alive to the humiliating situation, but was always there to supply the answers for good little Lucy!
Sarah鈥檚 comment on this is interesting. She says: 鈥淚n the schools of the ancients, an act of patient disinterestedness like this would be rewarded, but in this 鈥榤odern鈥� school it was well for both parties that it was never known!
鈥淲omen can, without loss of dignity, be kind to poor relations, say, the son of a relative once known in better days. It might be even possible to befriend him when he comes to the city looking for employment.
鈥淚t is not easy for a man who has to fill the office of master to a number of assistants during the hours of business to unbend before them at his own fireside, but a high-principled woman may, without loss of dignity, make her husband鈥檚 apprentices feel that she regards it as her duty to advise them in difficulties, simply because the All-wise Disposer of human affairs has seen fit to place them within the sphere of her influence!鈥� (That should warm anyone鈥檚 heart to the Boss鈥� wife!)
There is a special part dealing with the relation of brothers and sisters.
鈥淚f a sister deems it her duty to tell her brother that he is doing wrong, she must do it with great tenderness and humility, and in a gentle manner, and the writer advises that some special service be rendered him immediately, choosing what would be otherwise degrading, in its own nature, in order to prove in the most delicate manner that though she sees a fault in him, she still esteems herself his inferior.
鈥淚n her intercourse with any man it is impossible but that woman should feel her inferiority. And it is right that it should be so! No woman can meet a man on equal terms 鈥� Her part is to make sacrifices in order that his enjoyment may be enhanced!鈥�
What a world!
How did we ever get out of it? The cynic will say we are not out yet.
The writer of this interesting old book was no doubt considered an advanced woman in her day. She is a radical, really. She advocated the dignity of labour in any sphere of life, and urged her readers to study the art of conversation. She poured indignation on the women who take pride in their ignorance of everyday life. She believed that women cannot know too much, but warns them not to parade their knowledge if they would appeal to men, and never to trust to knowledge.
In her chapter on conversation she makes a curious reference to Nootka Sound, saying there are women who never know north from south, and if one were to ask them which way the wind is blowing, the expectation of a correct answer, would be much the same as 鈥渋f they were asked to tell whether the tide was at that moment rising or falling in Nootka Sound.鈥� It is curious that she should have had Nootka Sound in her mind prior to 1839.
This book is a model of good book-binding and careful handling. There is not a wrinkled leaf. Bound in black leather with gold edges, it has survived its 10聽years. I wonder if any of our books will be read in a hundred years from now!
The owner of the book was Alexandrina H. Bury, who evidently received it for a New Year鈥檚 gift in 1842.
