[Letter from Juliet Upshur Elliott to her cousin, Elizabeth Upshur Teackle, November 18, 1810]

Vaucluse November 18^th, 1810

My dr. cousin,

Strange, and uncommon is the circumstance, it is nevertheless true that I have received a letter from you by the post; and it is also true, that I should have returned you my acknowledgements several days ago, if I had not been too busily employed in making breeches for Litt'n and Abel, who were about to go to Baltimore. Breeches (you say) constitute the chief distinction of sexes, and, poor fellows: it would have been a pity to turn them loose in the world without this “badge of royalty,” which (in your opinion) gives them their only superiority over that tribe of insignificant beings, y'cleped¹ women; and beside this reflection in favour of the necessity of breeches, there is another consideration of material weight at this season. I cannot help thinking that a party of sans-culottes facing a North Wester in the month of November, might reasonably enough wish a covering for their lower-story, and I am sure your philanthropy is of so pure and genuine a character, that you would never wish any of your fellow beings placed in such unpleasant circumstances, even should there be a probability of advantage to yourself arising there from and much more am I convinced, you would not have them so situated for the paltry consideration of a dull, uninteresting letter from me. I therefore rest satisfied in the belief that if the choice of my occupations for the last week, had been left to yourself, you would much sooner have placed a needle, than a pen, in my fingers, but now, since the boys are fairly off, and there is a pause in the business of

breeches making, I am left at liberty to write; and I think more than probable your patience will be well tested, before the end of this epistle. However, should you grow very tired, or regret the sacrifice of your time, you have at least this alternative, either to proceed, or not. What I write, you shall not be forced to read, for here, at the top of this second page do I acquit you of all obligation to do so, further, than your own inclination shall prompt.

When I had read your letter, I put it into Caleb’s hand, that he might become an eye witness to your favourable sentiments of him, but I assure you, so disinterested is he, that not all your flattery bestowed upon the individual, could reconcile him to the severity of your strictures upon the sex in general. He thinks you are not only too severe, but too indiscriminate in your censures. It is his opinion, that notwithstanding some cynics have been, and still are found, who snarl out their disapprobation of women in mass, yet more than half of the men in the world, are willing, and pleased to acknowledge their merits; and to confess them a powerful, and important link in the chain of human society. Thus far, it may be well for us to succumb, but Caleb, on the other-hand, must allow, that it is too much the practice among men, to encourage in women, those very qualities, for which they affect to despise them. It is a truth, long since established, that the first wish, and most powerful incitement, which a woman feels, is a desire to render herself pleasing to the other sex. To that goal does all her ingenuity and attention point, and for that purpose does she study the tempers, and minds of men,

from whom would it not be astonishing, if, after so many centuries spent in ascertaining the true mode of pleasing, women should still have so little penetration as to err in their plan? Where women are concerned, men are much more apt to consult their fancies, than their reason, and are guided oftener by passion than judgment; it is not therefore, wonderful, that those qualities which are best calculated to captivate the senses, should be most prized by them in females. It is not then a natural consequence, that such qualities should be most sought for, and held in the highest estimation by our sex? I am well assured, it is not natural frivolousness, nor any radical defect in the minds of women, which produces the lightness of their characters: it is education and observation. There must be a change in the sentiments and feelings, and conduct of men, before there can be a change in the character of women. I do not think with Mr. Pope, that “Most women have no character, at all.” I cannot view them as a blank, for I am sure there cannot be found one who has not some principle of action, but I think their minds are so flexible, and at the same time, so deeply impressed with the sense of their dependence on man, that it rests with him to form the character; and unfortunately, he has fixed on one, which his own cooler judgment does not approve. Hence all his cavilings at woman’s insignificance; and hence the discontent of woman, whose wounded spirit, cannot tamely brook reproof, for faults herself is not the cause of. You, my dear cousin, have on several occasions, taken up the cudgels in defence of our injured sex; they would not be in better hands, and I sincerely hope you will not resign them

without a triumph, at least over Mr. Jackson. If [I] were capable of becoming even your auxiliary I would gladly contribute my mite of service; but so sensible am I, of my own deficiency, that I am convinced I should injure [hole in page] cause by endeavoring to promote it. Contented ignorance is the summit of my ambition, and if, in my passage through life, I can but catch an idea, to answer, the present purpose, my highest aim will be accomplished, and I shall sink into my grave, an eminent instance of satisfied ambition.

Now, would I give a penny ha’ penny (and that is more money than I possess) that I had a little agreeable interesting homespun news for you. Indeed, I know nothing which does not transpire within the walls of this house; a journal of which, would, to be sure, be the dullest amusement, that ever a poor Lady was entertained with. You are acquainted with our family rotine, you know that it consists in working, eating, and sleeping, performed each day with the same uninteresting uniformity. I have not been at all from home since I saw you, nor have Mr. and Mrs. E. made us the promised visit; of course I have not seen them. I however heard last night that Eyre Hall was turned topsy turvy, and glaziers and painters, “labouring in their vocations” to set it in order again. These improvements and preparations I suppose are making for the reception of Arthur and his bride. Has Arthur returned from Baltimore? This is about the time he told me he expected to be married. Caleb returns you

[h]is grateful acknowledgments for the poem, and professes to have been highly pleased with its perusal ever since he received it, it has been his constant intention to answer it, but such has been the nature of his employments, and so various his occupations, that amidst his multifarious pursuits, he has never found leisure to the calls of amusement and pleasure, even tho’ gratitude puts in her claim, to awaken his attention. He, however, does not altogether despair of being able to make you a return; but designs to seize the first favourable hour for that purpose.

If Retta is still with you, give my love to her and tell her I have had the pleasure of hearing she intended to spend the winter in Northampton. Ask her if it is true. Your friends in Northampton enjoy their usual health, except cousin, her head, I understand, is unpleasantly effected by the fresh paint which she is living among. You know the delicacy of her nerves. Papa is still subject to the head ake, but his attacks, I think, are less frequent. Mama’s general health is better.

Tell my dear cousin Nelly I frequently think of her and never without an earnest desire to see her. I hope some fortunate turn of the wheel will yet take me to P.A. before I die. I found the “heart and soul” in your letter, and have treasured them up, as my richest possessions.

Leah desires I would tell you she finished her frock

a great while ago and that she feels flattered by your attention in making the inquiry, but she wishes to know whether it was herself, or her frock, that excited the interest. She thanks you for your improvement upon her manner of working it. It has made her frock much handsomer.

Mama sends her love and blessing to you and cousin Nelly, and says she is truly gratified at being remembered by you. My best wishes attend your husband, and all your household, not forgetting Mrs. Harris and Nanny. Apropos of Mrs. Harris, has she had the ‘pleasure’ of having any children yet?

Now have you not been for some time thinking that I must have forgotten Mr. Jackson’s friendly hint? But verily do I believe that should this letter swell to the size of a mountain, it is too crude a mass, to produce so much as a mouse.

If you could but know, how much I was delighted with receiving your letter, I think you would be charitable enough to write me another.

Farewell my dear cousin. Be assured I love you affectionately,

Juliet Upshur