The Translation of the following Work was undertaken at the request of Mr. Ruff, the Publisher, who wished me to paraphrase what I thought might more particularly interest and edify the English reader.
It is dedicated, by the Publisher, to her Grace the Duchess of Bedford—and he is anxious that it may be found worthy of her patronage.
The original French work was first published in 1688; and the earliest English translation appeared in 1707. This translation, which was by Dr. Hickes, I have never seen. In the year 1797, another [anonymous] English translation was printed at Hull, in a duodecimo volume. In this performance there is so close an adherence to the idiom of the French language, that almost every page abounds with gallicisms. It is not, however, entirely destitute of merit; but it appears, on the whole, to have been hastily executed for the purpose of ensuring a cheap and extensive sale.
The present translation is offered to the public, with a full conviction of its inadequacy to give a just idea of the beauty and force of the original. The author of "Telemaque" and "De l'Education des Filles" appears, on a comparison of these two performances, very unlike the same writer. In the former, his periods are flowing and luxuriant; in the latter, they are sententious and logical; and nearly as difficult to clothe in an English-dress as those of the philosophical Tacitus.
It will be seen, therefore, that a literal translation has not been attempted; and a still greater deviation will be observable, from a wish to distinguish it from the translation of 1797. Whether this has always been done for the better, the reader will determine for himself.
The Original Chapter "on religious studies" has been submitted to those, whose opinions, matured by experience, I have been anxious to obtain; and it has received the sanction of their approbation.
If the Work fail of success, it will not be from the want of spirit in the Publisher; for it is accompanied with considerable beauty of type and paper, and elegance of ornament.
The design is every way worthy of the ingenious artist by whom it was executed, and who has long been known to the world from the taste and fidelity of his pencil. The engraving, by Mr. Freeman, will convince the public that he requires only to be known, to be more generally encouraged.
T. F. D.
Terrace, Kensington,
June 2, 1805.
On the Importance of the Education of
Daughters.
The Education of Girls is, in general, exceedingly neglected:1 custom, and maternal caprice, often appear to have the entire regulation of it. It absolutely seems as if we supposed the sex to be in need of little or no instruction. On the other hand, the Education of Boys is considered as a very important concern, affecting the welfare of the public; and although it be frequently attended with errors and mistakes, great abilities are nevertheless thought necessary for the accomplishment of it. The brightest talents have been engaged to form plans and modes of instruction:—What numbers of masters and colleges do we behold? What expences incurred in the printing of books, in researches after science, in modes of teaching languages, in the establishment of professors? All these grand preparations may probably have more shew than substance, but they sufficiently denote the high idea we entertain of the education of Boys. In regard to Girls, some exclaim, "why make them learned? curiosity renders them vain and conceited: it is sufficient if they be one day able to govern their families, and implicitly obey their husbands!" Examples are then adduced of many women whom science has rendered ridiculous; and on such contemptible authority we think ourselves justified in blindly abandoning our daughters to the conduct of ignorant and indiscreet mothers.
It is true, that we should be on our guard not to make them ridiculously learned. Women, in general, possess a weaker but more inquisitive mind than men; hence it follows that their pursuits should be of a quiet and sober turn. They are not formed to govern the state, to make war, or to enter into the church; so that they may well dispense with any profound knowledge relating to politics, military tactics, philosophy, and theology. The greater part of the mechanical arts are also improper for them: they are made for moderate exercise; their bodies as well as minds are less strong and energetic than those of men; but to compensate for their defects, nature has bestowed on them a spirit of industry, united with a propriety of behaviour, and an economy which renders them at once the ornament and comfort of home.2
But admitting that women are by nature weaker than men, what is the consequence? What, but that the weaker they are, the more they stand in need of support. Have they not duties to perform, which are the very foundation of human existence? Consider, it is women who ruin or uphold families; who regulate the minutiæ of domestic affairs; and who consequently decide upon some of the dearest and tenderest points which affect the happiness of Man. They have undoubtedly the strongest influence on the manners, good or bad, of society. A sensible woman, who is industrious and religious, is the very soul of a large establishment, and provides both for its temporal and eternal welfare. Notwithstanding the authority of men in public affairs, it is evident, that they cannot effect any lasting good, without the intervention and support of women.
The world is not a phantom, it is the aggregate of all its families; and who can civilize and govern these with a nicer discrimination than women? besides their natural assiduity and authority at home, they are peculiarly calculated for it, by a carefulness, attention to particulars, industry, and a soft and persuasive manner. Can men promise themselves any felicity in this life, if marriage, the very essence of domestic society, be productive of bitterness and disappointment? and as to children, who are to constitute the future generation, to what misery will they be exposed, if their mothers ruin them from the cradle?
Such then, are the occupations of the female sex, which cannot be deemed of less importance to society than those of the male. It appears that they have a house and establishment to regulate, a husband to make happy, and children to rear. Virtue is as necessary for men as for women; and without entering upon the comparative good or ill which society experiences from the latter sex, it must be remembered that they are one half of the human race, redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ, and destined to life eternal.
Lastly, let us not forget that if women do great good to the community when well educated, they are capable of infinite mischief when viciously instructed. It is certain that a bad education works less ill in a male, than in a female breast; for the vices of men often proceed from the bad education which their mothers have given them, and from passions which have been instilled into them at a riper age, from casual intercourse with women.
What intrigues does history present to us—what subversion of laws and manners—what bloody wars—what innovations in religion—what revolutions in states—all arising from the irregularities of women? Ought not these considerations to impress us with the importance of female education? Let us, therefore, discuss the various means of accomplishing so desirable an object.
1. It must be remembered that the above sentiment was expressed in the year 1688, when the want of a good system of female education was universally felt and regretted. At the present day, we witness a noble reverse of things; and whatever theories may have, been proposed abroad, we can never cease to admire the labours, and applaud the sagacity, of our countrywomen in behalf of their sex.
2. This idea is beautifully expressed in the following lines of Thomson:—
| "To give society its highest taste, Well-ordered home man's best delight to make; And by submissive wisdom, modest skill, With every gentle care-eluding art To raise the virtues, animate the bliss, And sweeten all the toils of human life: This be the female dignity and praise!" |
| Autumn, ver. 602-608. |
Errors in the Ordinary Mode of Education.
Ignorance is one of the causes of the ennui and discontent of young persons, and of the absence of all rational amusement. When a child has arrived at a certain age without having applied to solid pursuits, she can have neither taste nor relish for them. Every thing which is serious assumes to her mind a sorrowful appearance; and that which requires a continued attention, wearies and disgusts her. The natural inclination to pleasure, which is strong in youth—the example of young people of the same age, plunged in dissipation—every thing, in short, serves to excite a dread of an orderly and industrious life. In this early age, she wants both experience and authority to take a decided part in the management of household affairs; she is even ignorant of the important consequences resulting from it, unless her mother has previously instructed her in some of its departments. If she be born to affluence, she is not necessitated to undergo manual toil: she may probably work an hour or two a day, because she hears it said, without knowing why, that "it is proper for women to work"—but this pithy proverb will only produce the semblance, without the substance, of real useful application.
In such a situation what is she to do? The society of a mother, who narrowly watches, scolds, and thinks she is performing her duty in not overlooking the least fault—who is never satisfied, but always trying the temper, and appears herself immersed in domestic cares; all this disgusts and torments her. She is, moreover, surrounded with flattering servants, who, seeking to insinuate themselves, by base and dangerous compliances, gratify all her fancies, and direct her conversation to every topic but that of goodness and virtue. To her, piety appears an irksome task—a foe to every rational amusement. What, then, are her occupations? None that are useful. Hence arises a habit of indolence, which at length becomes incurable.
Meantime what is to fill this vacuity? Nothing but the most frivolous and contemptible pursuits. In such a state of lassitude, a young woman abandons herself to pure idleness; and idleness, which may be termed a languor of the soul, is an inexhaustible source of weariness and discontent. She sleeps one-third more than is necessary to preserve her health: this protracted slumber serves only to enervate and render her more delicate; more exposed to the turbulency of passion; whereas moderate sleep, accompanied with regular exercise, produces that cheerfulness, vigour, and elasticity of spirits, which form, perhaps, the true criterion of bodily and mental perfection.
This weariness and idleness, united with ignorance, beget a pernicious eagerness for public diversions; hence arises a spirit of curiosity, as indiscreet as it is insatiable.
Those who are instructed and busied in serious employments, have, in general, but a moderate curiosity. What they know gives them an indifference for many things of which they are ignorant; and convinces them of the inutility and absurdity of those things, with which narrow minds, that know nothing, and have nothing to exercise themselves upon, are extremely desirous of becoming acquainted.
On the contrary, young women, without instruction and application, have always a roving imagination. In want of substantial employment, their curiosity hurries them on to vain and dangerous pursuits. Those who have somewhat more vivacity, pique themselves on a superior knowledge, and read, with avidity, every book which flatters their vanity: they become enamoured of novels, plays, and "Tales of Wonder," in which love and licentiousness predominate: they fill their minds with visionary notions, by accustoming themselves to the splendid sentiments of heroes of romance, and hence are rendered unfit for the common intercourse of society; for all these fine airy sentiments, these generous passions, these adventures, which the authors of romance have invented for mere amusement, have no connexion with the real motives which agitate mankind, and direct the affairs of the world; nor with those disappointments which usually accompany us in almost every thing we undertake.
A poor girl, full of the tender and the marvellous, which have delighted her in her reading, is astonished not to find in the world real personages, resembling the heroes she has read of—fain would she live like those imaginary princesses, whom fiction has described as always charming, always adored, and always beyond the reach of want. What disgust must she feel on descending from such a state of heroism, to the lowest offices of housewifery!
Some there are who push their curiosity still further, and without the least qualifications, presume to decide upon theological points.—But those who have not sufficient grasp of intellect for these curiosities, have other pursuits, better proportioned to their talents: they are extremely desirous of knowing what is said, and going on in the world—a song—news—an intrigue—to receive letters, and to read those that other people receive; these things delight prodigiously; they wish every thing to be told them, and to tell every thing in turn: they are vain, and vanity is a sure incentive to talk. They become giddy, and volatility prevents those reflections from rising which would shew them the value of silence.
Of the First Foundations of Education.
To remedy the evils just complained of, it is of material consequence to commence a system of education from Infancy: this tender period, which is too often intrusted to imprudent and irregular women, is, in truth, the most susceptible of the strongest impressions, and consequently has a great influence on the future regulation of life.
As soon as children can lisp, they may be prepared for instruction: this may be thought paradoxical—but only consider what a child does before it can talk. It is learning a language which it will, by and by, speak with more accuracy, than the learned can speak the dead languages, although studied at a mature period of life. But what is the learning a language? It does not consist solely in treasuring in the memory a great number of words—but in comprehending, says St. Austin, the meaning of each particular word: the child, amidst its cries and amusements, knows for what object each word is designed: this is obtained sometimes by observing the natural motions of bodies which touch, or shew, the objects of which one is speaking—sometimes by being struck with the frequent repetition of the same word to signify the same thing. It cannot be denied but that the brain of children is admirably calculated, from its temperament, to receive impressions from all these images; but what strength of mental attention is requisite to distinguish them, and to unite each to its proper object?
Consider too, how children, even at such a tender age, attach themselves to those who flatter, and avoid those who restrain, them: how well they know to obtain their object by a tear, or silent submission: how much artifice and jealousy they already possess! "I have seen," exclaims St. Austin, "a jealous child: it could not speak; but its face was pale, and the eyes were irritated against an infant that suckled with it."
From this it may be inferred, that infants know more at such an early period than is usually imagined: thus, by soft words and appropriate gestures, you may incline them towards honest and virtuous connexions, rather than introduce them to those which it would be dangerous for them to caress.—Thus, again, you may, by appropriate looks and tone of voice, represent to them, with horror, those whom they have seen exasperated with anger, or any other furious passion; and, on the other hand, by a correspondent serenity of manner, depicture to them those who are amiable and wise.
I do not wish to lay too great a stress on these subordinate matters: but, in reality, these different dispositions form a commencement of character which must not be neglected; and this mode of foreseeing, as it were, the future dispositions of children, has imperceptible consequences which facilitate their education.