‘No. 3. To visit the sick paupers, and to administer religious consolation to them in the workhouse, at such periods as the guardians may appoint, and when applied to for that purpose by the master or matron.’
The work laid out under the two last clauses might certainly be done as well, in some respects perhaps better, by a duly qualified lady; and on the face of it, there seems to be no particular reason why paupers should not attend their parish church and be visited by the clergyman like other parishioners. The desirableness of workhouse visiting by ladies has been much discussed, and is now beginning to be acknowledged. The presence of a lady in an official capacity might be still more valuable, both as being permanent and as waiving the difficulties which are so apt to come in the way of philanthropic interference in state institutions. A lady appointed expressly by the guardians themselves could scarcely provoke jealousy, and her representations, based on thorough knowledge of the matter in hand, and modified by sympathy with the difficulties and scruples of authorities, as well as with the claims of the suffering, would be comparatively exempt from the charge of officiousness. That she would naturally gather round her such helpers as she might need in an unofficial capacity is an obvious advantage. The same observations would seem to be applicable to hospitals and prisons, and all public institutions where women are employed in a subordinate capacity. That the presence and the active influence of a lady, by whatever name she might be called, would be a valuable element, wherever the sick in mind or body are congregated together, is generally admitted, though the theory has not in England been acted upon to any considerable extent.
Next in our enumeration comes the business of farming. The social prejudice against useful occupations of any sort, as distinguished from those which are supposed to be ornamental, has here been actively at work. The superintendence of farming operations is still, however, largely shared by women, especially in the north of England. In commercial dealings there is a good deal of work to be done which could not, at any rate in our present very imperfect state of civilisation, be properly undertaken by women. There are, however, branches of mercantile and quasi-mercantile business, including that profession of modern growth which has been called ‘management,’—in which wise arrangements, carefully made, are all that is required to make them suitable. In almost every kind of business, wholesale and retail, the book-keeping and the correspondence might be very fitly carried on by competent women.
With regard to the manufactures which now form so vast a portion of our national industry, a great revolution has taken place, and it is here, above all, that a re-adjustment of social and domestic arrangements, involving some innovation on conventional ideas and usages, seems to be imperatively needed. Down to a comparatively recent period, every household was a workshop. It is within the present generation that the sewing-machine has laid hold of the last remaining implement of domestic manufacture. The home is no longer a manufactory. Spinning, weaving, knitting, sewing, all are gone, or going. What has become of the busy hands and brains? The hands are gone into factories, the brains are idle. We cannot call back the hands, and again set them to work in the domestic manufactory. Might it not be possible to bring them again under womanly influence, and at the same time find fit work for the brains, by introducing women of the employing class into factories? Might we not restore the old order of things, under which the payers of wages and the receivers of wages worked together, to the mutual advantage of both—by replacing women in the position of directors and overlookers of female labour? It is vain to say that a factory is not a fit place for a lady. If it is not, it ought to be made so. If the moral atmosphere of a workshop is necessarily debasing, no human being ought to be exposed to its influence. But is it necessarily debasing? Are machines in themselves demoralising? What is the moral difference between a spinning-jenny and a distaff? Are knitting-needles refined, and knitting-machines coarse? Is there any reason, in the nature of things, why the moral tone of a factory should be less pure and elevating than that of the home? Is it not rather that we want, in our modern workshops, the influence conveyed by daily intercourse between women to whom wealth has given the means of culture and refinement, and the labourers whom poverty obliges to work with their hands, but who need not therefore part with any essential feminine attribute? If, in all the works where women are employed in the inferior departments, the daughters of the masters were instructed in the business, made so thoroughly conversant with it as to be able to take a real part in its direction, two advantages would be gained. The higher class of workers would acquire larger sympathies, more living interests, increased aptitude for affairs, and an exhilarating sense of usefulness—of having a place in the world from which they would be missed if they were withdrawn from it. The lower class would, on their part, be elevated by the contact with a genuine refinement, not too ‘fine’ to be useful. They would see that a lady is a lady, not in virtue of her costly dress and luxurious habits, but in the gentleness, the truthfulness, and the sensitive sympathy, which are among the most precious fruits of high culture. And it can scarcely be doubted that such an example, such an ideal, brought within the immediate and daily contemplation of women and girls of the labouring class, would be more effectual in rectifying their standard of morals and refinement than any philanthropic agency, however well-intentioned and judicious, which could be brought to bear from without. In some cases there might be difficulties in the way of teaching women the practical parts of a manufacture, but there can be few businesses in which some place might not be found for them. Even where female labourers are not employed in the lower departments—though there the case is the strongest—women might often take part in the direction, with great advantage to themselves, and at least without injury to any one else.
It appears, then, that a transference of the scene of action, and an accommodation of old principles and practices to new circumstances, is the task of the present generation, and the true answer to the appeal of women for something to do. The change proposed, so far from being a departure from the old ways, is, in fact, a recurrence to them. The advocates of things as they are, are the innovators. Those who sigh after things as they might be, are the old-fashioned people, eager to retain, with only such modifications as advancing civilisation has made indispensable, all that is best in things as they were.
CHAPTER V.
PROFESSIONAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE.
An obvious rejoinder to the foregoing suggestions will at once present itself. It will be said that professions and business may be all very well—may indeed be best—for single women, but that sooner or later the great majority marry, and any plan of life which fails to recognise this contingency is unpractical and absurd. This is most true. We have to deal with facts; and it is a most important, though not the sole question, How would a higher education and professional training act upon family life? Home duties fall to the lot of almost every woman, and nothing which tends to incapacitate for the performance of them ought to be encouraged. Let us ask, then, what are the home duties of women as such, and what are the qualifications required for their discharge? And here we must remember that the claims involved in the conjugal and parental and filial relations are not special to women. They are not, indeed, to be disregarded in considering the bearing of a scheme of education; but in the discussion of the home duties of women as such, it is convenient to treat separately those which are not shared by men.
If we bring before our mind’s eye the picture of an English home, we see that the household work is divided between the mistress and the servants. Where there are grown-up daughters, they sometimes help the mistress in her work, or the servants in theirs, but they have no distinct functions of their own. It appears, then, that in an inquiry relating to the upper and middle classes, the only home duties special to women which can come under review, are those of the mistress of the household. What are her functions? Those of government and administration. All housekeepers will agree that this is the work they have to do, though they may not be accustomed to call it by these names. The inexperienced mistress complains, not that she does not know how to cook, or to sew, or to keep the furniture in order—these arts, if she wants them, can be quickly acquired; her perplexity is how to manage the servants. To draw the line between necessary subordination and vexatious interference—to apportion to each a fair share of work, and to see that the work is done—to be liberal and considerate without over-indulgence,—these are duties requiring judgment, moderation, method, decision, often no small share of moral courage; in other words, precisely the same qualities which are wanted in governing bodies of workpeople. In administration also, it is obvious that, though on a different scale, the same sagacity, prudence, and foresight which would make a woman successful in business, would conduce to the economical management of domestic concerns.