We shall have to accept her and see what can be done with her.One thing is certain, we shall not solve the problem of the twentieth century by regretting the ****** sociology of the Stone Age.
[A Lover's View.]
Speaking as a lover, I welcome the openings that are being given to women to earn their own livelihood.I can conceive of no more degrading profession for a woman--no profession more calculated to unfit her for being that wife and mother we talk so much about than the profession that up to a few years ago was the only one open to her--the profession of husband-hunting.
As a man, I object to being regarded as woman's last refuge, her one and only alternative to the workhouse.I cannot myself see why the woman who has faced the difficulties of existence, learnt the lesson of life, should not make as good a wife and mother as the ignorant girl taken direct, one might almost say, from the nursery, and, without the slightest preparation, put in a position of responsibility that to a thinking person must be almost appalling.
It has been said that the difference between men and women is this:
That the man goes about the world ****** it ready for the children, that the woman stops at home ****** the children ready for the world.
Will not she do it much better for knowing something of the world, for knowing something of the temptations, the difficulties, her own children will have to face, for having learnt by her own experience to sympathize with the struggles, the sordid heart-breaking cares that man has daily to contend with?
Civilization is ever undergoing transformation, but human nature remains.The bachelor girl, in her bed-sitting room, in her studio, in her flat, will still see in the shadows the vision of the home, will still hear in the silence the sound of children's voices, will still dream of the lover's kiss that is to open up new life to her.
She is not quite so unsexed as you may think, my dear womanly madame.
A male friend of mine was telling me of a catastrophe that once occurred at a station in the East Indies.
[No time to think of Husbands.]
A fire broke out at night, and everybody was in terror lest it should reach the magazine.The women and children were being hurried to the ships, and two ladies were hastening past my friend.One of them paused, and, clasping her hands, demanded of him if he knew what had become of her husband.Her companion was indignant.
"For goodness' sake, don't dawdle, Maria," she cried; "this is no time to think of husbands."There is no reason to fear that the working woman will ever cease to think of husbands.Maybe, as I have said, she will demand a better article than the mere husband-hunter has been able to stand out for.
Maybe she herself will have something more to give; maybe she will bring to him broader sympathies, higher ideals.The woman who has herself been down among the people, who has faced life in the open, will know that the home is but one cell of the vast hive.
We shall, perhaps, hear less of the woman who "has her own home and children to think of--really takes no interest in these matters"--these matters of right and wrong, these matters that spell the happiness or misery of millions.
[The Wife of the Future.]
Maybe the bridegroom of the future will not say, "I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come," but "I have married a wife; we will both come."
End
