Here is an interesting and thoughtful look at life for a young
woman in England. I couldn't find a publication date, but there is an
inscription from 1844. Some of this you may want to read twice because the
author has a sly way of saying things.
Some of this is
surprisingly real even in today's society. And some of it will cause you to
raise your brows or just roll on the floor laughing.
From The Daughters of England, Their Position in Society, Character and Responsibilities by Mrs. Ellis.
Love is a subject which is ever been
open to discussion, amongst persons of all classes and of every variety of mind
and character, yet, after all, there are few subjects which present greater
difficulties, especially to a female writer. How to compress a subject which is
filled so many volumes, into the space of one chapter, is also another
difficulty but I will begin by dismissing a large portion of what is commonly
called by that name, as a wholly unworthy of my attention, I mean that which originates
in mere fancy, without reference to the moral excellence of the object; and if
my young readers imagine, that out of the remaining part they shall be able to
elicit much amusement, I fear they will be disappointed; for I am one of those
who think that the most serious act of a woman's whole life is to love.
What, then, I would ask, is love?
that it should be the cause of some of the deepest realities in our experience,
and of so much of our merriment and folly?
The reason why so many persons act
foolishly, and consequently lay themselves open to ridicule, under the
influence of love, I believe to originate in the grand popular mistake of
dismissing this subject from our serious reading in conversation, and leaving
it to the unceremonious treatment of light novels, and low jests; by which unnatural
system of philosophy, that which is in reality the essence of woman's being,
and the highest and holiest amongst her capabilities, bestowed for the purpose
of teaching us of how much our nature is capable for the good of others, has
become a thing of sly purpose and frivolous calculation.
The very expression— “falling in
love” —has done incalculable amount of mischief, by conveying an idea that it
is a thing which cannot be resisted, and which must be given way to, either
with or without reason. Persons are said to have fallen in love, precisely as
they would be said to have fallen into a fever or ague-fit; and the worst of
this mode of expression is, that amongst young people, it has led to a general
yielding up of the heart to the first impression, as if it possessed itself no
power of resistance.
Having chosen your lover for his
suitability, it is of the utmost consequence, that you should guard against that
natural propensity of the youthful mind, to invest him with every ideal
excellence. Endeavor to be satisfied with him as he is, rather than imagine him
what he can never be. It will save you a world of disappointment in after life.
Now, indeed, does this extravagant investiture of the fancy belong, as is
sometimes supposed, to that meek, and true, and abiding attachment which it is
woman’s highest virtue and noblest distinction to feel. I strongly suspect it
is vanity, and not affection, which leads a young woman to believe her lover
perfect; because it enhances her triumph, to be the choice of such a man. The
part of the true-hearted woman, is to be satisfied with her lover, such as he
is, and to consider him, with all his faults, as sufficiently exalted, and
sufficiently perfect for her. No after-development of character can shake the faith
of such a woman, no ridicule or exposure can weaken her tenderness or a single
moment; while, on the other hand, she who had blindly believed her lover to be
without a fault, must ever be in danger of awaking to the conviction that her
love her love exists no longer.
One word before this chapter closes,
to those who have arrived at years of womanhood without having known what it
was to engage the attentions of a lover; and of such I must observe, that by
some unaccountable law of nature, they often appear to be the most admirable of
their sex. Indeed, while a sparkling countenance, an easy manner, and – to say
the least of it – a willingness to be admired, attract a crowd of lovers; it
not infrequently happens, that retiring merit, and un-ostentatious talent, (will)
scarcely secure the homage of one. And yet, on looking around upon society, one
sees so many of the vain, the illiterate, and the utterly useless, chosen and solicited
as wives, that we are almost tempted to consider those who are not thus favored,
as in reality the most honorably distinguished amongst their sex.
Traveling, writing, reading... The perfect life. Ah, but the downside. Traveling requires funds which my writing career does not support. But I was fortunate to have recently been in Buenos Aires - the Paris of South America.
The city cemetery is very old and the mausoleums so interesting. The most famous of the crypts belongs to Eva "Evita" Peron, buried in the Duarte family tomb. I was singing Don't Cry For Me Argentina the rest of the day.
The news of her death, as quoted from Wiki: "The news was immediately broadcast throughout the country, and Argentina went into mourning. All activity in Argentina ceased; movies stopped playing; restaurants were closed and patrons were shown to the door." Mourning for her was deep and long lasting.
