Females not expected to be reasoners. Effects of modern education on the reasoning powers. Education of former days, illustrated by an anecdote of as octogenarian. Extracts from her correspondence. Difficulty in getting the ears of mankind. The reasoning powers in man susceptible of cultivation indefinitely. Reflections on the importance of maternal effort and female education.

I know not why a young woman should not reason correctly as well as a young man. And yet I must confess that, some how or other, a masculine seems to be often attached to the thought of strong reasoning powers in the female sex. To say of such or such a young woman, She is a bold and powerful reasoner—would it not be a little uncommon? Would it be received as a compliment? Would it not be regarded as a little out of the way—and, to coin a term, as rather unfeminine?

Perhaps the habit of boldly tracing effects up to their causes, and of reasoning upon them, is a little more uncommon among the young misses of our boarding schools and our more fashionable families, both of city and country, than among those of the plainer sort of people. Certain it is, at all events, that the former would be regarded as reasoning persons with much more reluctance than the latter. And yet the former has probably been taught mathematics, and all those sciences which are supposed to develope and strengthen the mental faculties, and give energy to the reasoning powers.

For myself, I have many doubts whether we are really—whether the sex themselves are, I mean—so much the gainers by the superficial knowledge of modern days, which tends to the exclusion, in the result, of that good old fashioned education to house-work, which was given by the mothers of New England, in the days of her primitive beauty and glory. Then were our young women, for the times, reasoning women; then were they good for something. A few of those precious relics of a comparatively golden age, have come down nearly to our own times. I have even seen several of them since the beginning of the nineteenth century. There is one of this description, more than eighty years of age, now living with a son of hers in one of the Middle States. Her sphere of action, however, in the days of her activity, lay not there, but on one of those delightful hills which are found at the termination of the Green Mountain range, in New England. There, in her secluded country residence, among plain people, and with only plain means, with her husband absent much of the time, she educated—not instructed, merely, nor brought up at school, but educated—a large family of children, most of whom live to bless her memory and the world. So devoted was this woman to her household duties, and to the right education of her family, that for eleven of the first and hardest years of her life, she never for once left the hill on which she dwelt—a mile or so in extent.

And yet this female was a woman of reasoning powers superior to those of most men. She understood, thoroughly, every ordinary topic of conversation, and could discuss well any subject which came within her grasp. She has been for a few years past, one of my most regular and most valued correspondents; and nothing but her great age and great reluctance to put pen to paper, would, I presume, prevent her from writing more frequently than she is accustomed to do. As a specimen of her style, I venture to insert a paragraph or two from her letters. The first was written when she was in her eightieth year.

"I am glad to find you in the enjoyment of health—able to be busily and usefully employed for this and coming generations. I would like, if it was God's will, to be usefully employed in such ways, too; but though I am so greatly favored as to be able to think as well as ever, I cannot work with my wonted facility and despatch. I cannot 'labor with my hands,' so as to have 'to give to him that needeth,' because my hands are weak and lame. Once I could fill six sheets of letter paper in a day, without weariness; but now, if I can fill this sheet, decently, in two days, I am ready to boast of it, as an achievement. When I look back and see my former activity, I wonder if that was myself, and am almost ready to doubt my identity. But every thing in its course; first rising into life, then decaying. The world itself is not to stand forever; and of course the things animate and inanimate which are upon it, must partake of its transitoriness."

Again, when she was within a few weeks of eighty years of age, (which was in January, 1838,) she wrote to me in the following vein of playfulness:

"As I can invent nothing new, I must utter such truisms as I have picked up by the way, in almost eighty years; for you say to me, write—and of course I obey, and scribble on. Now I say to you—and may I say it to Mrs. A. too?—WRITE. Write very sensibly, by the way; for old as I am, I am a sharp critic. I read in my early days Lord Kaimes' Elements, and I have been working up these elements ever since; and if I cannot invent, I can understand what is fairly presented to me: so you will receive this as a caution. But don't be afraid! I'll tell you another thing, of which perhaps you are not aware: I had rather have one letter warm from the heart, than a dozen from the head."

"I was delighted to think you were pleased with my philosophy—for I never dreamed I uttered any. As to my politics, I was pretty well drilled in the school of Washington, after seeing through the revolutionary struggle; and that was no mean school, I assure you. Washington was a statesman! I see but few now; but when I do see one, I make him my best courtesy. And as to my theology, I learned that from the pilgrim fathers."

Now whether those of my younger readers of a new generation, who, perhaps, almost despise both letter writing and reasoning,—whether any of these, I say, will see either form or comeliness—any thing inviting—in these paragraphs, I cannot say. But I can tell them, at once, that I do; and it sometimes seems to me, that no greater human benefaction could be offered to mankind, than the application of those principles and methods of female education, in family and school, which would produce such minds and bodies as those of which we have, in the case of this aged woman, an example!

Perhaps, however, it is almost useless to hope for better times, at present, for reasons, among others, which are given in another place by my aged correspondent. "The mischief now-a-days," she says, "is, that every one is on a railroad, impelled by steam power, and cannot stop; so all speak at once, and none hear. What a state is this! But it is true of the world in general. I see but few who are self-possessed. I wonder when I see any one who is so; and I wonder if I am so myself."

But we are not only unwilling to stay to hear—we are unwilling to stay to teach. It would be no hard matter for parents and teachers—especially by beginning early—to establish in the young of both sexes, habits of right reasoning. I am afraid, however, that parents and teachers themselves do not perceive the value of such a habit, and that they are not likely to do so for some time to come.

All, however, which remains for me to do, I must do. This is, to press upon the few whose ear I can gain, the importance of this part of self-education. Do not despise the idea of reasoning on subjects which come before you; nor think it masculine or old fashioned. Not only accustom yourselves to reason, but to reason on every thing. There is almost as great a difference between a young woman who takes all things upon trust, scarcely knowing that she can use her own powers in the investigation of truth, and one who has been, like my worthy and venerable correspondent, in the habit of observing and reasoning seventy or eighty years, as there is between a Sam Patch and a Bowditch—or a Hottentot and a Newton. Would that our young women knew this, and would conduct themselves accordingly!

There is nothing in the wide field of human improvement which better repays the labor of cultivation, than the reasoning powers. Nor is there any thing which does more to perfect and adorn the human being. With the highest and noblest rational powers, the human family—especially the female part of it—seems to me to accomplish least happily the great work for which they were created, than any other earthly existences. The little all of knowledge which pertains to the lower animals, "flows in at once," says Dr. Young; whereas, "were man to live coeval with the sun, the patriarch pupil might be learning still, yet dying, leave his lessons half unlearnt." And yet the former fill, happily, the sphere which God in nature assigned them; while the latter, with all his capacities and powers of reason, conscience, &c., wanders incessantly from his orbit, and must be a most unsightly spectacle to God and holy angels, and all other high and noble intelligences. When will man return to his native sphere, and the moral and intellectual world move in due harmony and happiness, like the physical? When will each moral creation of the Divine Architect, move round its great spiritual centre, with the same beauty, and majesty, and glory, which is manifest in the motions of the physical world? Never, I am sure, till mothers and teachers, who are, as it seems, the authors alike of human happiness and human misery, come up to their appropriate work; and never will there be such mothers, till young women are better trained. And the latter will never be better trained, till the work of education, especially of self-education, is undertaken with much better views of its objects and ends, and with a thousand times more earnestness and perseverance, and I might even say enthusiasm, than has as yet been manifested.