The Mother of Society

...which nothing equals in majesty and loftiness.

2 — Their reckoning that this task is of no consequence, so that they made light of it and turned away from it toward what satisfies their ambition and their craving for weighty undertakings; and so politics, with all its dazzling shows, led them astray.

If it is the first, it is a disgrace that brands woman.
And if it is the second, it is a self-conceit as hollow as a drum, or as the froth of soapwort root.

And both are faults: evasion and flippancy are two failed attempts to disguise the bodily and spiritual weakness in a person. Indeed, they are two sure proofs of the presence of an inferiority complex in his soul.

And now, it is as though I see my sisters who demand our political rights preferring descent to the lower depths over rising upon the ladder of human perfection! For I find in our natural task the values of the higher life — truth, goodness, and beauty — and I do not find them in the sphere of politics as man practices it.

Then let us grant, for the sake of argument, that woman must be given her political right in life, on the consideration that her failure to exercise this right creates a dangerous void in her being — what, pray, would the result be?

The man works in his own field outside the house. And in this field are all manner of troubles and hardships, demanding mighty efforts, firm resolves, and a bodily strength that neither bends nor flags.

And the woman, by virtue of this political right, is driven to work in two fields different at the very root. She is, at one and the same time, a mother, bound by her natural constitution to bear offspring and then to rear that offspring.

And she is also the man's partner in his own field, suffering the troubles and toils that he suffers, and loading upon her soul and her body what he loads upon his. So there lie in her hands two tasks — two watermelons, rather — neither of which can be properly carried save by one who is whole in substance and in spirit.

Then come back with me, my sisters, to the house, and let us see what has befallen it after its mistress made light of it and strayed from its path!

The man comes home from his work tired, worn out, anxious, and troubled, his face knit in frowns; but he promises himself the meeting with his wife — nay, the partner of his life — who will relieve him of his fatigues and his cares.

But disappointment strikes him like a thunderbolt when he reaches the house and enters it, and does not find his wife there to receive him; for she too has come home tired, worn out, anxious, and troubled, because she has loaded upon herself more than she can bear, and because she found no one to console her on her return to the house — so she has gone to crouch in a corner of her room until she gets her share of mental and bodily rest.

As for the children, they are off playing and trifling in some corner, knowing nothing of their parents' affairs, except that she has no strength to receive them, embrace them, and tickle them; so they run away to wherever they may find solace and merriment outside their parents' arms.

Who, then, would it be well for us to bring in, to take charge of the upbringing, to cheer the man and the woman after their return from their work to the house and to their children, and to restore to the atmosphere of the family its merriment, its good cheer, its gladness, and its happiness?

The servant, perhaps?!