AN ESSAY FROM (WO)MAN

From An Essay On Man: Epistle II (i)

Know then thyself, presume not us to scan;

The proper study of mankind is man.

Women live in a middle state,

Men are darkly wise, and rudely great:

There’s too much knowledge for the woman’s mind,

And too much weakness in a woman’s hide,

We hang between, in doubt to act, or rest;

We needs must deem him Lord, and us beast;

We must his mind and him our bodies to prefer;

Born but to die, we women reason but to err;

We swim in ignorance, ‘tis man with reason’s touch,

We think too little and are not capable of much;

Chaos of thought and passion, all confus’d;

We are by him abus’d, or disabus’d;

The man must rise, the woman must fall;

Great lord of all things, women are prey to all;

Sole judge of truth, women in endless error hurl’d:

Men born with a brain, women born but to churl;

Men are the glory, women are the jest,

Procreation is the riddle of the nest!

Go, wondrous man! Mount where nature guides,

Go, rule the earth, ride the air, and sail the tides;

Instruct the planets in what orbs to run,

Correct all the time, and regulate the sun;

Go, soar with Plato to th’imperial sphere,

To state what is good, what is perfect, and fair;

Whilst we tread the mazy around our poor fam,

And quitting sense try imitating Man;

As children who in giddy circles run,

And lift their heads to stare into the sun.

Come, teach us Eternal Wisdom and how to rule –

For we drop ourselves, and act the fool!

Superior beings, women always saw

A mortal Man unfold all Nature’s law,

Admir’d such wisdom in an earthly shape,

And showed us wisdom, when we showed a nape.

Could he, whose rules women long to find,

Describe at our level one moment of his mind?

We saw his fires here rise, as ours descend

Explain his own genius, whilst on our knees we bend?

Alas what wonder! Man’s superior part

Uncheck’d may rise, and climb from art to art;

But when his own great work is but begun,

What Reason weaves, by women is undone.

Trace women then, with modesty thy guide;

First strip off all her equipage of pride;

Deduct what is but vanity, or dress,

Or pecuniary luxury, or idleness;

Or tricks to show the stretch of the female brain,

Mere curious pleasure, not ingenious pain;

Divide the whole, or separate she parts

Her many vices have created Arts’

Then see how little the remaining nun,

Has helped at all, and must the times to come!