es stand in the way of a man's obtaining any
thorough knowledge even of the one woman whom alone, in general, he
has sufficient opportunity of studying. When we further consider that
to understand one woman is not necessarily to understand any other
woman; that even if he could study many women of one rank, or of one
country, he would not thereby understand women of other ranks or
countries; and even if he did, they are still only the women of a
single period of history; we may safely assert that the knowledge
which men can acquire of women, even as they have been and are,
without reference to what they might be, is wretchedly imperfect and
superficial, and always will be so, until women themselves have told
all that they have to tell.

And this time has not come; nor will it come otherwise than
gradually. It is but of yesterday that women have either been
qualified by literary accomplishments, or permitted by society, to
tell anything to the general public. As yet very few of them dare
tell anything, which men, on whom their literary success depends, are
unwilling to hear. Let us remember in what manner, up to a very
recent time, the expression, even by a male author, of uncustomary
opinions, or what are deemed eccentric feelings, usually was, and in
some degree still is, received; and we may form some faint conception
under what impediments a woman, who is brought up to think custom and
opinion her sovereign rule, attempts to express in books anything
drawn from the depths of her own nature. The greatest woman who has
left writings behind her sufficient to give her an eminent rank in
the literature of her country, thought it necessary to prefix as a
motto to her boldest work, "Un homme peut braver l'opinion; une femme
doit s'y soumettre."[1] The greater part of what women write about
women is mere sycophancy to men. In the case of unmarried women, much
of it seems only intended to increase their chance of a husband.
Many, both married and unmarried, overstep the mark, and inculcate a
servility beyond what is desired or relished by any man, except the
very vulgarest. But this is not so often the case as, even at a quite
late period, it still was. Literary women are becoming more
freespoken, and more willing to express their real sentiments.
Unfortunately, in this country especially, they are themselves such
artificial products, that their sentiments are compounded of a small
element of individual observation and consc