A Vindication of the Rights of Woman with - Early Modern Texts
A Vindication of the Rights of Woman with - Early Modern Texts
A Vindication of the Rights of Woman with - Early Modern Texts
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The <strong>Rights</strong> <strong>of</strong> <strong>Woman</strong> Mary Wollstonecraft 4: The degradation <strong>of</strong> woman<br />
<strong>of</strong> enjoying <strong>the</strong> sunshine <strong>of</strong> life. Besides, many husbands<br />
are so lacking in sense and parental affection that during<br />
<strong>the</strong> first effervescence <strong>of</strong> voluptuous fondness <strong>the</strong>y refuse to<br />
let <strong>the</strong>ir wives breast-feed <strong>the</strong>ir children. . . .<br />
Personal attachment is a fine basis for friendship; but<br />
when two young people marry—even virtuous ones—it might<br />
also be fine if some circumstance checked <strong>the</strong>ir passion;<br />
if <strong>the</strong> memory <strong>of</strong> some prior attachment or disappointed<br />
affection made it, on one side at least, a match based on<br />
esteem ra<strong>the</strong>r than love. That would have <strong>the</strong>m looking<br />
beyond <strong>the</strong> present moment, trying to make <strong>the</strong> whole <strong>of</strong> life<br />
worthwhile by making plans to regulate a friendship which<br />
ought to last until death.<br />
Friendship is a serious affection; <strong>the</strong> most sublime <strong>of</strong> all<br />
affections, because it is based on principle and cemented<br />
by time. The very reverse may be said <strong>of</strong> love. In a great<br />
degree, love and friendship can’t exist toge<strong>the</strong>r in <strong>the</strong> same<br />
heart: even when it’s love for one person and friendship for<br />
someone else, <strong>the</strong>y weaken or destroy each o<strong>the</strong>r; and for<br />
just one person you can’t have love and friendship at <strong>the</strong><br />
same time—<strong>the</strong>y have to take turns. The vain •fears and<br />
foolish •jealousies—when managed <strong>with</strong> wisdom or cunning<br />
<strong>the</strong>y are <strong>the</strong> winds that fan <strong>the</strong> flame <strong>of</strong> love—are •both<br />
incompatible <strong>with</strong> <strong>the</strong> tender confidence and sincere respect<br />
<strong>of</strong> friendship.<br />
·A PARAGRAPH ABOUT LOVE AS POR TRAYED BY GENIUS·<br />
Love <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> kind that <strong>the</strong> glowing pen <strong>of</strong> genius has described<br />
doesn’t exist anywhere on earth except perhaps in<br />
<strong>the</strong> exalted, feverish imaginations that have sketched such<br />
dangerous pictures. Dangerous? Yes, because <strong>the</strong>y not only<br />
•provide a plausible excuse for <strong>the</strong> voluptuary who disguises<br />
sheer sensuality under a sentimental [see Glossary] veil, but<br />
also •spread insincerity and detract from <strong>the</strong> dignity <strong>of</strong> virtue.<br />
•Virtue should have an appearance <strong>of</strong> seriousness, if not<br />
50<br />
austerity; and to try to doll •her up in <strong>the</strong> garb <strong>of</strong> pleasure<br />
because ‘virtue’ has been used as ano<strong>the</strong>r name for pleasure,<br />
is to raise •her up on a foundation <strong>of</strong> quicksand; a most<br />
underhand attempt to hasten her fall by apparent respect.<br />
Virtue and pleasure are not in fact as closely related in this<br />
life as some eloquent writers have tried to prove. Pleasure<br />
prepares <strong>the</strong> fading wreath, and mixes <strong>the</strong> intoxicating cup;<br />
but <strong>the</strong> fruit that virtue gives is <strong>the</strong> reward for hard work; and<br />
when it is seen as it gradually ripens, all it provides is calm<br />
satisfaction—indeed, appearing to be <strong>the</strong> result <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> natural<br />
tendency <strong>of</strong> things, it is hardly noticed. Bread, <strong>the</strong> common<br />
food <strong>of</strong> life and seldom thought <strong>of</strong> as a blessing, supports<br />
<strong>the</strong> constitution and preserves health; but feasts delight <strong>the</strong><br />
heart <strong>of</strong> man although disease and even death lurk in <strong>the</strong> cup<br />
that elevates <strong>the</strong> spirits or <strong>the</strong> morsel that tickles <strong>the</strong> palate.<br />
The lively heated imagination likewise. . . .draws <strong>the</strong> picture<br />
<strong>of</strong> love, as every o<strong>the</strong>r picture, <strong>with</strong> <strong>the</strong> glowing colours stolen<br />
from <strong>the</strong> rainbow by a daring hand that is directed by a mind<br />
condemned, in a world like this, to prove its noble origin<br />
by panting after unattainable perfection; always pursuing<br />
what it admits to be a fleeting dream. An imagination <strong>of</strong><br />
this vigorous cast can give existence to unsubstantial forms,<br />
and stability to <strong>the</strong> shadowy day-dreams which <strong>the</strong> mind<br />
naturally falls into when it is bored by reality. It can <strong>the</strong>n<br />
depict love <strong>with</strong> heavenly charms, and dote on <strong>the</strong> grand<br />
ideal object; it can imagine<br />
a degree <strong>of</strong> mutual affection that will refine <strong>the</strong><br />
soul. . . .and make it absorb every less noble affection<br />
and desire. In each o<strong>the</strong>r’s arms, as though in a<br />
temple <strong>with</strong> its summit lost in <strong>the</strong> clouds, <strong>the</strong> world<br />
is to be shut out and along <strong>with</strong> it every thought<br />
and wish that doesn’t nurture pure affection and<br />
permanent virtue.<br />
Permanent virtue! alas! Rousseau, good visionary! your