[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