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things which are necessary to life. In the absence of laws and associations amongst men, an individual is exposed to continual dangers; he must defend his prey or his field against his equals, and against ferocious animals, the still more formidable rivals of isolated man. In such a state of things, the female, less advantageously endowed by nature as regards physical powers, cannot enter a list in which strength alone insures triumph. She becomes a mother, and her cares are doubled, precisely when her own existence as well as that of her childen depends on her repose and release from labour. Every thing obliges her, then, where the law of the strongest is alone legitimate, to seek the support of the most powerful sex; but the contract of association between the two parties is that of a master with a slave; the female, in exchange for the protection which is afforded her, submits to the conditions of an absolute dependence. Some portion of these barbarous manners still exists amongst those classes of society devoted to physical labours; the employment of strength being the only means of obtaining subsistence, it is the only quality which is held in consideration, and women are generally treated with contempt and severity.

In early stages of society, woman is naturally the soonest reduced to slavery: she is the property of man, who sometimes employs her in the meanest labours, sometimes offers her from politeness to strangers, and sometimes even makes a traffic of her. Amongst these barbarians, combats between the different tribes are of daily occurrence; and in Greek and Roman antiquity, we also see nations organised entirely for war; military courage is therefore held in the highest estimation. It is, in these ages of violence, the most useful of all virtues, and women consequently are objects of contempt. Plato questions the fact of woman being a human creature, and yet, by a singular contradiction, he assigns her an important part in his republic. Others make her an inferior being, and even interdict her from entering their temples. Euripides calls her the most pernicious of all creatures. Cato says, that, if the world was without women, men would hold converse with the gods.

In one country a female addresses her husband on her knees; in another she is forbidden to enter her house by the same door; amongst some nations, she may not eat at the same table or sit in his presence; and amongst others, the son is even authorised to raise his hand against his mother. One Roman legislator grants to husbands the right of life and death over their wives; and another condemns the soldier who shall desert his standard, to be led through the public streets in the garb of a female.

From the right of property which man holds over woman, he has been easily led, in VOL. I. 2 N

countries where the climate invites him to luxury and voluptuousness, to keep as many females as his means admit of. Love, as a moral passion, can only exist between beings who feel themselves equals, and of the same nature; it is physical love only which reigns amongst the poets of antiquity and the Orientals.

Christianity, with its doctrine of equality, opened a new era for women. The chivalric manners of the middle ages made their destiny a brilliant one; their cause was often preferred to that of the country; they presided over the tournaments and courts of love. Nevertheless, we must not be too much deluded with regard to this celebrated age of gallantry and devotion to the fair sex : it was a time, also, in which jealousy and all the most violent passions frequently tyrannized over them. Besides, all women were not princesses and the inhabitants of castles; neither were all men barons and knights. The romances of chivalry say nothing of the fate of the poor vassals; the companions, or rather the slaves, of the serfs, dependent, like them, on the pleasure of their lord. It is a feudal institutions that we can most justly appreciate the sum of moral and material advantages which belonged to them. War was still the principal element of society in the middle ages; strength and bravery were still, therefore, the most useful and the most highly esteemed virtues; and women, consequently, notwithstanding the tribute of homage offered to their beauty, could only have held a secondary place in society.

The successive progress of the arts has rendered a great development of physical faculties less and less indispensable; intellectual ones have taken the precedence, and women, being able to enter the lists in this more peaceful competition, have, from that period, occupied the rank which belongs to them in society. Let me be permitted here to make a comparison: a child is ignorant of the cares and attention due to weaknessdoes he feel his superiority over a younger sister? He abuses it, and ill treats her without mercy.

Arrived at the age of passion, a female becomes his idol-he pays her a kind of devotion; but the very ardour of his love is to her the source of infinite uneasiness and distresses.

It is only when years have ripened the judgment of childhood, and calmed the transports of youth-it is then only, that, in a being of the other sex, man finds an amiable and sensible companion, whom he esteems and cherishes without passion, and who shares his griefs as well as his pleasures.

In this we see a picture of the fate of women in the different stages of society. Bearing, at first, the misery of their weakness;

afterwards idolized in an age of enthusiasm, but far from enjoying an unalloyed happiness; and, lastly, by the progress of reason, placed in that sphere which belongs to them —that of an equality founded, on one side, on the protection of force; on the other, on gentle and kind attentions.

Have we yet reached this ripe age of civilization? We can, at least, foresee it. The more moral ideas assume an empire over material strength, the more will the lot of women be ameliorated; and this amelioration naturally begins in those classes which are not compelled to physical labours. As to the others, it appears that for them the age of iron and the reign of power has not yet ceased.

Our institutions preserve, as regards females, the stamp of ancient doctrines of those even which preceded Christianity. Expressions such as the following one, in right of husband, sufficiently attest this fact. The French Revolution itself even did not place females in their proper situation; there is, in fact, in our social organization, none assigned to them. The application of the system of unlimited competition, com bined with the imperfect education which they receive, tends to perpetuate their precarious condition. Left to themselves, they find they are unable to struggle against the other sex; misery awaits them, and frequently one only resource is left themprostitution. The inevitable state of dependence in which their inferiority retains them, the scorn which attaches itself to the victims of seduction, without pursuing the seducer, all contribute to precipitate them into the abyss. The laws framed for the protection of weakness are not directed towards the preservation of innocence from the snares of the rich libertine; and educa tion, still more powerful than laws, tends as little to this end.

equally useful, in the present state of our manners, to be a good mother, as to be a courageous soldier. The cultivation of sentiments is as important as that of understanding; and if it is true, as every thing seems to prove, that the superiority is decidedly on the side of woman, as regards the faculties of the soul, as it is on that of man, as regards those of the mind, why should not this portion of public education be confided to her? This is not the place in which to examine what will in future be the influ ence of woman-what place she will occupy in a social organization more conformable to the wants of the human mind-and what division of labour will be assigned to her. The occasion will present itself for the examination of this interesting question, and we shall not fail to avail ourselves of it. For the present, let it suffice us to prove, that, in spite of the ameliorations successively effected in the condition of women by the progress of knowledge, they are still far from performing that part in society which belongs to them, since they have no share in the establishments of the institutions by which they are governed-since the nature of all public functions is such, that men alone can fill them, these functions having been made only for them;-this is a remnant of the ancient basis of organization, the preponderance of strength.

Must we, in concluding, anticipate one objection? It will be said that a public life frequently demands a complete renouncement of all family ties, a renouncement, painful to the firmest and most masculine characters, and of which a female would be totally incapable. This firmness, this civil courage, since that is the name generally applied to it, can only display itself in resistance to a social order, which is at variance with the interests of families, that is to say, in the times of revolution. But such A young man on his entrance into the events are happily only transient. Political world learns that his part is to attack-the institutions, re-organised, are so constituted female's to defend herself; so much the as to be firm, and adapted to the happiness worse for her if she falls: it is a triumph of individuals. From that moment the inwhich gives glory to her conqueror. It terests of the state, and the interests of famiseems that man, not content with treating lies become identified; these deplorable trouwomen as inferiors, as regards social privi- bles cease; and domestic affections become leges, desires also to retain them in an intel- the duty of every good citizen. It is easy to lectual minority, instead of hastening that conceive that, in such a state of things, state of moral perfection in them, which that is to say, in the natural situation of would so powerfully contribute to his own society, that women, prepared by a careful happiness. Accustomed as we are to esteem education, might with advantage, and that as frivolous every thing which regards fe- they no doubt will, at some future period, males, the instruction which is given to fill public functions analogous to the peculiar them amongst us bears the character of this capacities of their sex. frivolity Far be from me the thought of wishing the two sexes to be brought up in the same manner. Their future destinies are different; they ought, therefore, to be differently prepared for them. But why

should not the same care and attention be bestowed on each? It is equally noble, and

INTO life's bitter cup true friendship drops
Balsamic sweets, to overpower the gall;
True friends, like ivy and the wall it props,
Both stand together, or together fall.
Forget Me Not.

NOTES ON LISBON.

THE PORTUGUESE.

PERHAPS when taken generally, no race of men on earth (calling themselves civilized) are more disgustingly ugly than the men of Lisbon. Short of stature, thick-set, squalid complexions, and eternally enveloped in their capotas (cloaks), they stalk along their filthy streets, at once an epitome of pride, laziness, and deformity; the whole appearance generally crowned with a tremendous cocked hat. This latter, indeed, is an appendage without which no Portuguese (in Lisbon), from the prince to the barber, the footman, the postillion, and the beggar, can possibly be induced to appear abroad; and many wear them constantly in their houses, as also their capotas. Their pride can only be equalled by their meanness ; too self-conceited to work, even those, who call themselves gentlemen, do not blush to beg in the streets, and infest the coffee-houses, and every place of public resort, with their fawning, detestable whine of poverty, though even then they scarcely ever condescend to beg in their own names, but ask all for the love of God, or some Saint. Say to a beggar in Lisbon, "Here, carry this small parcel for me into the next street, and I will pay you for so doing," and in all probability he would abuse you, and tell you he was a Portuguese gentleman, and not a gallego.

The women of Lisbon may be said to be, handsome. Their hair is in general very fine, dark, and abundant, and they take great care of it; their eyes, as beautiful as any in the world, black, or very dark brown, are expressive and melting. They equal Spain in the elegance of an exquisitely fine formed leg, ancle, and foot, of which they are perfectly sensible, for their chief pride and ornament in dress seem to be directed to the stocking, and satin slipper. Their hands and arms are, in general, very fine; the former delicate and tapering; the latter, from the shoulder to the elbow, partake, perhaps, rather too much of the general character of their person, which, for their height, inclines to the very limits of en bon point. As a drawback, however, to so many charms, the Portuguese women are old at thirty; and before an English woman is in her prime of beauty, they are gone by, and no more remembered: and certainly an old Portuguese, woman is any thing but an object of admira tion. Their complexions may at all times be called sallow, though when young the clearness of the skin, and the glow of health make it appear far from unpleasing; but in age it becomes actual parchment: in a word, a Portuguese woman, from fifteen to twentyfive, is a lovely object; but after that, how ever love may hold his sway in their bosoms,

they certainly lose the power of communicating its influence to others. The Portuguese women are by no means remarkable for per-, sonal cleanliness, and their tempers are very bad: they are very ignorant, and very superstitious, and consequently cannot make good domestic companions. They are so enslaved by a passion for dress, that many of very confined incomes literally deprive themselves and families of every domestic comfort, that they may, when they go abroad to pay a visit, to the theatres, or to mass on particular Saint's days, appear adorned with laces and jewels. They are remarkably careful in the preservation of their clothes; to that end, the moment they return from church, or a walk, &c., they take off their finery, and very often the chemise and capota are the only articles of dress retained. Their dress suits often descend with religious awe to the third generation. The greater number appropriate a particular suit to a particular day, which suit consequently sees the light but once a year. If a female in Lisbon has not an extensive wardrobe, but perhaps only one, grand dress, and does not care to be always. seen in the same, she will change occasionally with some female friend (equally circumstanced) one day, with a second another day, and so on, ringing the changes through half a dozen, or more, according to the extent of her acquaintance. Thus a woman, that may be supposed to have a variety of elegant dresses, has in fact but one, which one may be in their company, though not on the back of its owner.

The Portuguese, in many of their habits and customs, retain an opposition to every other nation in Europe. Every manual operation they perform backwards (relatively, speaking); we stir our tea from us, with the sun; they, towards themselves, against the sun their carpenters saw from themselves, the back of the saw towards the body; their farriers seldom, or rather never, unless by, desire, bleed horses in the neck, but on the inner part of the thigh; and they shoe them in a very different posture to what we do, and it always takes two men to put on one shoe, though their horses are remarkably quiet. Corn is trod out by oxen, a custom which, though practised in some countries, is absolutely antediluvian. Their paviors use the paving mallet the very reverse to us, by swinging it on the right side, and behind them, before they allow it to fall on the part to be rammed down. I could produce instances without number, in every branch of trade, of this perverseness, proving how backward they are in improvement, but will sum up the whole in stating what I saw one morning, namely, some scavengers actually employed sweeping a very steep street up hill, and against the wind, in very dusty weather. Obstinacy and perverseness personified could never beat this. Their fathers

and grandfathers may have done so before them, but were not the less fools on that

account.

WATCHING THE STREETS.

The watching the streets of Lisbon is one of the branches of the Police of the city, and is most excellent for such a Government as that of Portugal, but would not be submitted to by a people so jealous of every appearance of a military system as the English. It, however, deserves mention.

The Portuguese absolutely think it impossible that a man should be able to keep awake three hundred and sixty-five nights in the year, during all weathers, watch over their personal safety, and their property; and, from this incredulity, they refuse to admit, or even to admire, our mode of watching our cities and towns; they, therefore, have established a perpetual military watch, by day and night, the duties of which are performed by a regiment of foot soldiers, composed of the finest young men throughout the kingdom: they are mostly the sons of respectable farmers, and are selected for their good conduct; and they think it an honour to be admitted into this regiment, which is better clothed, and better paid, than any one in the service. The uniform is blue and yellow, and they always appear extremely clean and neat. The officers are mostly from the first families, and those of the higher rank are noblemen. This regiment is also the guards of Lisbon, as it is the only one that attends on the Royal Family. The men are mostly superior to the generality of the people, there being few of them but what can read and write; they are quiet, and very mild and civil in the discharge of their duty, seldom abusing their power, which is very great.

These men are stationed by detachments of from twelve to fifty men, or, perhaps, a company, in guard-houses in different parts of the city, from which they go in pairs, armed with a musket, bayonet, and sword, and perambulate the streets, &c., that lie within the district attached to their guard-house. They are never stationary, but always walking about, day and night, and are relieved every two hours. As they have no fixed station (there being neither watch-boxes nor sentry-boxes, except at the door of each guard-house), so you never know but you have a couple of young, strong, active, and well-armed soldiers at your elbow; and it is astonishing to observe, if any disturbance takes place, which seldom happens, how the disputants will be surrounded instantaneously, as if by magic, by eight or a dozen of these men, who soon restore order, for the people stand in great awe of them. You can, at any moment of the day or night, collect a strong guard around you, by shout

ing out, “Aqui del Rei," (here, in the King's name). It is thus their sole duty to preserve public tranquillity, and to watch over individual security, as also to apprehend all offenders against the laws; it is, likewise, their duty to turn every body out of the coffee-houses and public-houses at 10 o'clock at night (when they are obliged to shut up.) They always attend in the theatres, in the churches (on Saint-days, or on any occasion when they may collect a greater number than usual)-in short, they are every where. There are also a few troops of Horse Police, similar to our Life Guards, who also constantly patrol the streets in pairs.

FISH MARKET AT LISBON.

It consists of a few (say a dozen) oper stalls by the side of the river, though on a raised pavement, with a wall of about three feet round it. These occupy two sides of a square on the east and south, and on them is the fish, which, though as fine as any in Europe, is the most disgusting sight imaginable, as it is never cleaned, but rather appears to be purposely rolled in slime and filth; and in that state you must purchase it, and send it home, or go without. But this is not the worst part of the concern ; for, at the back of that part of the market which takes up the east side, at no greater distance than the thickness of the parapet wall (say two feet), lies a broad, but very shallow, paved ditch, intended to carry off the rain from the streets in the vicinity. This is open, not only to chance view, but you cannot avoid seeing it; and it is never for three minutes together unoccupied by the gallegos, fishermen, beggars, &c. Now, as it never rains in Lisbon in summer, and consequently this place is never cleansed, some idea may be formed of the disgusting sight and horrid stench.

In vain would you seek a remedy by going to a fishmonger's shop; they have no such thing in Lisbon, nor do they know what it means; and such a sight as Grove's, at Charing Cross, would, if transported to Lisbon, attract all Portugal to view it, through curiosity and wonder.

As, when divested of its filth, the fish is equal to any in the world, it might, perhaps, answer the speculation of establishing a fishmonger here, if the Government would allow it, which is doubtful.

Among others that are very fine, may be mentioned the soles, white salmon, John Dory, tainha, or white mullet, the pargo, and, to those who can surmount prejudice, the chog; the prawns are uncommonly large and fine flavoured, and the eels are not bad; the oysters, however, are abominable. But the staple is the sardinha (a large species of sprat), it is rich and exquisite, and consti

tutes the chief food, of not only the poorer, but of all classes of people, being also very cheap.

The clergy of Lisbon (if I recollect right, it is an exclusive grant to one convent, all the members of which are, and must be, of noble families) claim every tenth fish that is brought to market; and no fisherman dares sell a single fish from his boat, before he has brought them to market and paid his tithe, which is collected in a most unjust and arbitrary manner. A man is appointed by these priests, who attends as the boats arrive, the owners of which are obliged to count all their fish out before him, one by one; and while they are so doing, he selects, at his pleasure, every fine fish he sees (by means of a sharp hook which he holds for that purpose): he does not take every tenth fish promiscuously, but thus selects the best tenth of the whole cargo. As an amazing quantity of fish is brought to market, this tenth (which, after serving themselves, is retailed to hawkers and the stalls) must produce an immense revenue to the convent, or convents. When this tithe is thus selected, the poor fisherman, in return, receives a printed permit to dispose of the remainder; and the hawkers, who carry fish in baskets through the city, are obliged to purchase, daily, a permit for so doing.

PORTUGUESE SURGEONS.

The Portuguese surgeons are considered to rank very low, when compared with those of other nations; but they cannot be expected to excel in so difficult an art, while they are deprived of the means of acquirement-hospitals, schools for anatomy, and dissections, being unknown in the country.

One day, a very fine girl of eight years of age, coming from school, fell and broke her arm: an English surgeon was immediately sent for, but he being unfortunately from home, a Portuguese one was called in, who, to make assurance trebly sure, called in two others. This happy trio, perceiving that, from the fall, the flesh was turned blackish, determined that a mortification had already taken place (in less than an hour, on a healthy young subject !), and, without any further ceremony, cut off the poor child's

arm.

The English surgeon, who had been sent for in the first instance, now attended, but only in time to lament his being from home when the accident happened; as he assured me there was not the least occasion for amputation, the fracture and bruise being no more than is usual in such accidents. Though I have here only cited one case, yet the practice is invariably the same. Off with the limb, in all fractures, is, with them, what bleeding and hot water were with Dr. Sangrado, a universal cure. I know several persons who would have lost a limb, which they

now enjoy the use of, but from the interposition of the gentleman above mentioned, or from their own resolution, which the Portuguese faculty call English obstinacy.

Nor is their skill in the other branches of their profession superior to that in surgery. They have no idea of difference of constitution in individuals, either from habit or climate. Old and young, robust and delicate, natives of warm climates, and those from the frozen regions of the north, are all treated alike. Balsams and glysters form the whole extent of their practice, and are alike prescribed in fevers, colds, gout, rheumatism, debility, repletion, and all the opposites that "flesh is heir to."

So far are their medical men from possessing that humanity which characterizes the, profession in England, that they would allow the whole human race to perish before they would put themselves to the least inconvenience. As a proof of this, a very particular friend of mine, whose son, a beautiful child about three years old, was dangerously ill, applied personally to four of the first reputed, professional men in the city; but it being in the middle of the day (July 31), they all refused to attend till the evening, alleging that the weather was too hot to stir out till then.

I have been told, and I believe it, that on one occasion a surgeon was requested to visit, a man who had been stabbed through the body, but refused for a similar reason; saying, however, that if the wounded man would come to him, he would examine him. The man died before he could procure surgical, aid.-Athenæum.

THE OLD GENTLEMAN.

A TALE.

BY THEODORE HOOK.

FOR days, for weeks, for months, for years, did I labour and toil in the pursuit of one bewildering, engrossing, overwhelming object. Sleep was a stranger to my eyelids; and night after night was passed in undivided, unmitigated application to the studies, by which I hoped (vainly indeed) to attain the much desired end; yet all through this long and painful period of my existence, lest those who were my most intimate friends, and from whom, except upon this point, I had no concealment, should discover, by some incautious word, or some unguarded expression, the tendency of my pursuits, or the character of my research.

It was in the midst of this infatuation, that one evening in summer, when every body was out of town, and not more than eight hundred thousand nobodies were left in it, I

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