Chapter X: Aline’s Hopes (3)

Then, again, we have Anna, the wife of Tobias, a genuine bread-winner, though perhaps a lesser example of patience than she is of energy. “Now, Anna his wife went daily to weaving work, and she brought home what she could get for their living by the labor of her hands.”[71] The picture of her domestic trials is pathetic, and her husband seems to have had but a poor opinion of her discretion, for he asked her one day, when she had brought home a young kid, whether she were sure that it was not stolen? Her answer was certainly petulant, and consisted of what many modern wives would say under the same provocation, but it was ungrateful towards God. Human nature was much the same then as it is now; and one charm of the old Bible narratives lies just in this, that they _are_ so naïvely human. In the Book of Ecclesiasticus we read: “He created of him [man] a helpmate like to himself: he gave _them_ counsel and a tongue, and eyes, and ears, and a heart to devise....”[72] The woman is here expressly included in the intellectual benefits heaped upon man, and it is contrary to the whole spirit of the Scriptures to suppose that these gifts were in her merely ornamental. Matters of foresight, discretion, and business evidently come under the head of things to be “devised.” Again, a little further on we find that “a good wife is a _good portion_,” and “the grace of a diligent woman shall delight her husband and shall _fat his bones_.”[73] By this is meant “increase his substance,” which a woman can do in two ways—by husbanding her means, or earning something herself. Even if the “diligent woman” gave her husband nothing but counsel, that in itself would be a material help: “A _prudent_ wife is from the Lord.”[74]

To guard against the abuses of unremunerated labor, to which through poverty or improvidence the Hebrews might be subjected, Moses provided the law of the seventh year of remission and the fiftieth of jubilee. “Thou shalt not oppress him with the service of bond-servants, but he shall be as a _hireling_ and a _sojourner_,” and “_his wages_ being allowed for which he served before.”[75] With regard to women, the laws were the same. “When thy brother a Hebrew man or Hebrew _woman_ is sold to thee and hath served thee six years, in the seventh year thou shalt let him go free. And when thou sendest him out free, _thou shalt not let him go away empty_; but shalt give him for his way out of thy flocks, and out of thy barn-floor and thy wine-press,”[76] and it is specially recommended that bondmen and bondwomen should not be of the chosen race, but of the “nations around” the Hebrews. As to the responsibility of women concerning vows, we read that a woman under the power of her father or husband shall be bound to fulfil a vow contingently on the consent of her superior, but an independent woman is bound like a man: “The widow, and she that is divorced, _shall fulfil whatsoever_ they vow.”[77] This argues at least a recognition of woman’s full powers of reasoning, choice, and accountability, all of which are involved in the serious matter of a vow. In the Gospel of S. Luke, there is a passing allusion to female manual labor in the parable that foretells Christ’s second coming: “_Two women_ shall be _grinding_ together, the one shall be taken and the other left”—which allusion is not meaningless. All through the New Testament, additional light is thrown on the figurative expressions by the common customs of the country during our Lord’s human life in Judea, and so we may infer that in those days women frequently helped their husbands in various agricultural pursuits.

Martha, the sister of Lazarus, has always been looked upon as a type of active, busy life, according to our Lord’s words, “Thou art troubled about many things.” But this was not wholly meant as a rebuke, for there is a great difference between being _troubled_ and being _absorbed_ by worldly matters. Some among us must bear the domestic burden, in order that others may have the leisure needed for contemplation. Their place in the world is none the less holy because it is not the most perfect, for if there were no rungs to the ladder but the topmost one, how would it be possible to reach heaven? The workers of this world have a mission as well as the seers, and Martha holds almost as high a place in heaven as her sister who chose “the better part.” In the Acts of the Apostles, it is related that S. Paul, going out of the gates of Philippi and seeing there some women assembled, spoke to them, whereupon “a certain woman named Lydia, _a seller of purple_ of the city of Thyatira ... did hear ... and when she was baptized, _and her household_, she besought us, saying: ... come into my _house_ and abide there. And she constrained us.”[78] This woman must doubtless have been sufficiently well-off, and was most likely a widow or an unmarried woman. Her business, which she probably conducted herself, since she is distinguished by the epithet “a seller of purple,” must have brought her affluence, for her house and household are specially mentioned, and it strikes us also as a proof of her self-supporting and successful operations, that, being of the city of Thyatira, she had travelled to Philippi and established a home for herself within its walls. S. Paul and Silas are put in prison and freed again while in Philippi, and as soon as they leave their confinement, it is to Lydia’s house that they again repair. “And they went out of the prison, and entered into the house of Lydia; and having seen the brethren, they comforted them and departed.”[79] The natural inference is that the house of the generous “seller of purple” was the centre, for the time being, of the little Christian community; that here were the assemblies held and religious ceremonies performed; and that Lydia, in fact, gave up her dwelling to be practically a school and church. Her riches were her own; legitimately accumulated by an ordinary trade. We are told nothing of her origin, her education, her social position; she appears only as a “seller of purple” and a docile recipient of God’s Word. There was probably nothing at all wonderful about her—she was the ordinary business woman of her day: thrifty, since she had worked to so successful a purpose—simple-minded, since she so quickly believed the Word of God—generous, since she “constrained” the Apostles to dwell with her. S. Paul, who found in women such powerful auxiliaries, speaks in his Epistle to the Romans of “Phœbe, our sister in the ministry of the church [a deaconess] ... that you assist her in whatsoever _business_ she shall have need of you: for she also _hath assisted many_.”[80] Now, this clearly points to her having, or having had, either great possessions, which must have entailed many cares of management, or great zeal in stirring up others who were wealthier, which zeal also proves a capability for affairs. But let us turn back to yet more emphatic Scriptural proof that woman is noways debarred from a certain share in even great enterprises, so long as her modesty is not endangered by it. Judith, the queenly widow, occupied a position of this kind. “And her husband left her great riches, and very many servants, and large possessions of herds and oxen.”[81] The sequel of Judith’s history showed that she was as wise as she was rich, and that prudence and discretion were her most conspicuous gifts. She must have had great powers of government, and an eye for ruling the many subordinates whom she probably employed in the management of her possessions. She was no doubt a mother and a guardian to her servants, and, although young and beautiful, as the Scripture tells us she was, yet possessed a gravity and dignity beyond her years. Her mind was not set upon the frivolities of social life, and she gave herself much to prayer and fasting, abiding “shut up with her maids” in an upper chamber of her house. It is a great mistake to suppose that piety interferes with business habits in either man or woman. The legitimate cares of life are perfectly compatible with an unusual degree of spirituality, indeed, in many cases such cares become absolute duties. The spiritual life reacts upon the outer sphere of business relations, and while eliminating from it all tendency to mere selfish aggrandizement, enhances and hallows the worldly qualities requisite to its successful development. The world needs holy and grave influences to leaven its pursuits in every field, whether artistic, literary, or commercial, and while women can impart to every lawful calling into which they enter that natural grace and refinement which is their birthright, they should also strive to infuse into it a supernatural influence. In the Book of Proverbs,[82] we read the memorable description of the “wise woman,” and nothing is further removed than this Scripture ideal from the various types of modern womanhood which, in the clamor of the present questions as to woman’s place and proper employment, have terrified the sight and darkened the understanding of observers. Of her devotion to her husband, it is said that “his heart trusteth in her, _and he shall have no need of spoils_.” She is not of that aggressive, self-protecting type with which we are (for our sins) familiar; she is not of those to whom a husband is an appendage, insignificant at all times, removable at any; she is not of the independent sisterhood who take their passions for inspirations and their caprices for rules. Her influence must mightily serve her husband’s lawful interests, for we are told that “he is honorable in the gates when he sitteth among the senators of the land.” This points to the wise woman’s high social position, no doubt more due to her efforts, her industry, and her prudence, than simply to her noble birth. She might—like many of her modern sisters—have been born in the more fortunate walks of life, she might have been educated with care and assiduity, she might have been taught that perfect command of domestic details which secures an orderly and attractive household, she might even have acquired that unconscious good-breeding that marks the well-born and gently nurtured all over the civilized world; and yet with all these advantages she might still have failed to take a place in life—she might still have remained a social nonentity. How many such worthy and estimable blanks are there not in this world, in all ranks and shades of social standing! But the model woman of the Scripture has risen above this level of neglected or barren opportunities, and bears away the first honors of the race of life, simply because she is _wise_. The prudence of her counsels, shown in the ordering of her well-appointed household, her bargains and her forethought, her stores of bread, linen, and wool, redound to her husband’s honor; and when he “sitteth among the senators” he is known as possessing a treasure that doubles all his wealth, and is herself worth all his riches thrice doubled. But she is not entirely dependent on him in her transactions, for we see that “she hath considered a field and bought it; with the fruit of her hands she hath planted a vineyard.” This bears very closely on our subject, and proves how far the Scriptures hold a woman competent to think, speculate, work, and achieve, unassisted by man. “She hath tasted and seen that her traffic is good: ... she made fine linen and sold it, ... and hath not eaten her bread idle.” Now, all this points to more than mere domestic thrift. Here we see woman, not as a divorced wife, not as an aggressive spinster, not as a frivolous social ornament, not as a mere household drudge, but woman as a responsible being, with grave duties and a wide field of action, taking a place in the world fully equal to and yet utterly distinct from that of a man. She considers, she buys, she sells, she rules, yet all the while she is solicitous for her “maidens,” charitable and gentle to the poor, beloved by her husband, and blessed by her children. She appears here as judged by the real standard of her real worth. “Favor is deceitful, and beauty is vain; the woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her works praise her in the gates.”

So that she is not only to earn, but to enjoy. She is to have a stake in the world, and a voice in matters of importance—she “opens her mouth in wisdom, and the law of clemency is on her tongue.” Her opinion is to be sought, considered, followed; her example is to be looked upon with reverence, and criticism is to merge into admiration. Her position is to be that of an arbiter and referee, neither sinking to that of a petted child nor drifting into that of an unmated, unloved, and defiant waif. It is not from a band of social outlaws, whose common exile links them in common defence, that she is to seek support; but in the circle of her own home, in the centre where God and nature have placed her, she is to take the helm and gracefully mount the throne. No violence and no straining after impossible immunities are to disfigure her calm attitude of secure headship, and, even if her advice be disregarded, time and not she herself must vindicate its wisdom.

It may be objected that all this is very well in theory, and would work admirably if all women were _wise_, and all men worthy of them. But who does not know that ideals will never become healthful influences unless translated into facts, and that theories will never succeed in bettering the world unless exemplified here and there in trial cases? Would the _theory_ of Christianity be worth anything to the outside world unless realized in the daily life of its Founder and in the model existences of thousands of saints? It is impossible that anything should take hold of the human mind and mould it to new perfections before it has been put into tangible shape, and it is equally impossible in our fallen state that _all_ the world should be converted at once into so many perfect entities. Yet because all men will not become saints, because all cannot write like Shakespeare, paint like Raphael, or compose like Beethoven, are religion, poetry, and art to be eschewed by lower aspirants, and relegated to the barren region of things to be admired but not imitated? If, because absolute perfection was never attainable by man, every man had therefore resigned himself to a hopeless contemplation of the fine possibilities of Christianity, we should have had no Anthony, no Jerome, no Augustine. If, later on, because it was impossible to reform the _whole_ world and strike at the root of _every_ abuse, the pontiffs had calmly looked on while Christendom crumbled away, we should have had no Gregory the Great, no Hildebrand, no Innocent III., no Sixtus V. Again, if an inflexible adherence to rule were the only point worth aiming at, should we have had a Dominic, a Teresa, a Francis Xavier, a Philip Neri, a Vincent of Paul? In this world there are many experiments—tentative steps leading to higher things, and opening doors of possibility to hitherto untried systems. Even in the church, where all else is immovable, there is constant _human_ progress, and if here or there one soldier falls at his post—not through lack of enthusiasm, but through the force of adverse circumstances, or the darkness of mind which still shrouds his contemporaries while he himself has prematurely pierced beyond it—still the great search after perfection, the great work of Christian development, rolls on. So it is in the world, in art, in philosophy, in science, in society. What if woman’s position never has been made absolutely and securely certain? The church has always theoretically pointed it out, and has often secured its partial realization within her pale; it remains for the world to open its eyes, and extend those barriers of the church to the furthest limits of civilization, taking with it those improvements which it has so long groped for in its wilful darkness, and which all the time have been steadily in operation in the sanctuary of the old church.

So that it is idle to object that all we have said about woman’s work, reward, and position is “very well in theory.” If a few pioneers will do for the system what companies or even enterprising individuals are ever ready to do for any material scheme that presents but the slightest chance of success, the world would soon see the noblest reform of all achieved in the very core of society. Nay, we will say more: the pioneers _are_ there, the reform _is_ going on; only let the busy, sceptical world stop a moment and look into the silent, gigantic work ever renewing its strength in the church; let it pause and see homes where woman, either as manager or worker, holds her supreme rod of gentle authority; let it see the maiden toiling cheerfully for her aged parents, or bringing home food and clothes to helpless little sisters or ailing brothers—the wife helping and encouraging the husband, and eking out by skilful management a pittance into an income, and evolving comfort out of what in careless hands could hardly compass necessaries; the widow keeping her sacred state, unassailed by calumny, through the earnings which secure her privacy, or the widowed mother joyfully burdened with the twofold legacy that gives her both an object to live for and a memory to live in. Hidden homes these may be, poor homes they almost all are—homes bounded by the four walls of one squalid room, homes cramped in the garrets of tenement-houses or saddened by the dreary respectability of furnished lodgings, but none the less precious in the sight of the angels, and an example in the sight of men.

We have spoken much of the Scriptural conception of woman as a bread-winner, because upon this as a solid foundation we can build up the further development of such a woman’s position. Everything that is compatible with the _spirit_ of this conception may be said, in broad comprehensiveness, to be allowable in woman. Everything that can be referred to this ideal, as naturally flowing therefrom, is admissible in her relations with the great working hive of mankind. Intellectual labor especially is befitting to her, within the limits prescribed by modesty. Manual labor, especially agricultural or mining, is proportionately less fitting, both because of her physical weakness and more still because of the too free association with men which it often necessitates. Domestic labor, where this is not unreasonably heavy, is certainly within her sphere—and for this no better reason can be given than that the women of patriarchal times thought domestic labor no shame.

With this view, we say that as many openings for the employment of woman as can possibly be made, consistently with delicacy and womanly modesty, should be speedily contrived. No one need fear that such openings will deprive us of necessary comforts in the way of domestic attendance; there will always be a residuum of womankind to whom service will be the most natural and desirable outlet, to whom in fact it will be the only career which will give scope to the capacities they have. This will be the least difficulty; the real problem will always remain rather on the other side—that is, as to how many women can be redeemed from the bondage of circumstances by any known method of redemption. It is appalling to think of the many women, delicate-minded, earnest, persevering, who see in their womanhood, which should be their crown and their boast, only the barrier to their aspirations, the prison-door of their capabilities. It is terrible to reckon the number of women who lose themselves, and wander away from their place in society, either through the door of open shame or through the only less revolting path of that which is called but is not marriage; or visionary, defiant “independence.” How many fallen women sadly excuse themselves by saying that they could find no work to do, and yet could not bear to starve! On the other hand, in women who have obviated that degradation by leaping into another, we see the inevitable action of the narrow-mindedness of the world upon an undisciplined nature. Women are often accused of being always in extremes, and the accusation, in the case of women untrained by religious influences, is in the main true, although it may as well be said that the fact holds equally good with men who are not restrained by such influences. So, between open degradation and blatant “woman’s rightism,” the mind of the untutored woman will almost certainly, except by a happy chance, find no mean.

Is this picture overdrawn? We are ready to affirm again and again that it is not; the annals of society scandals and the records of the divorce courts show that it is not; for what difference is there but a despicable and conventional one between the legalized re-marriage of a guilty woman to her seducer, and the illegal union of so many unhappy couples whose relations it is a breach of propriety even to mention?

This is womanhood outside the church. It is no more a fancy picture than that other blessed one of the homes we have already praised, the homes of honest work and perfect peace. The world, to secure a nation of women bred in such homes, must turn to the church, and ask her to teach it the secret of such womanhood. The secret is in the Gospels, in the old hallowed traditions of the Hebrews, and in the fulfilled evangelical counsels. Voluntary poverty is the safeguard of holy and allowable wealth; voluntary obedience is the counterpart of lawful freedom; voluntary chastity is the hidden grace that obtains for others wedded love and a grave Christian home. The hostages of humanity are praying in the cloisters for the commendable domestic happiness of their numerous brethren, and, in proportion as the world scorns their sacrifice, so does it lose the fruit of their prayers.

We have said that woman’s work should be decided, God willing, by her capabilities. This is to say that more ways should be open to her than are open now to improve the talents God may have given her. In a great measure she can, and does, open these ways for herself, and an energetic nature of course will, like water, sooner or later “find its own level.” Still, many who have mental powers have little strength in battling with life, and might be helped if their luckier sisters would be a little less selfish in their easily acquired security. Work means self-respect, and self-respect means success. There is no one so proud as the woman who knows her own worth, and lifts herself by this knowledge high above all sordid temptations. She will be a good wife, for she will choose no man for a husband save on the lofty principle of his own worthiness of her, while her estimate of herself will unconsciously become his also. She will be a tribunal to herself and to him, and the slightest wrong action or paltry motive in either will take, in the eyes of the other, the proportions of a blot on their self-esteem. She will be a good mother, for her standard of superiority will be the first her children will know, and with them it will be inseparably blent with their personal affection for their mother. The home will thus be created on a footing that years will strengthen as they pass, and the austere yet happy gravity of a Christian household will become a hereditary tradition with the children. But for all this, the basis of work is wanted—work of some sort, voluntary occupation or necessary drudgery, it matters little. It is the discipline, not the fact, of work which is essential, and in this sense the rich and high-born may be as hard workers as the poor seamstress or the factory-girl. Yet, since this labor question touches the poor chiefly, it is for them we would chiefly speak. Woman’s work is circumscribed by her physical powers, man’s is not. Therefore, in all things that a woman can do as well as a man (and of course in all those which she can do better), the preference should be given to her. There are many trades in which men cut not only a very useless but a most ridiculous figure, and which the fittingness of things would point out as woman’s proper field. Everything relating to feminine clothing comes under this head; and were this department wholly given over to women, it would at once relieve the poverty and shield the virtue of many homes, and also spare the public the absurd spectacle of strong men engaged in handling delicate ribbons and filmy laces. Printing and kindred trades have been found practicable for women, and we know that watchmaking and jewellery work are also accessible to the “weaker vessel.” Still, it has at present gone no further than this, that women are associated with men in many employments. Now, we could wish that there should be many trades of which they would have an exclusive monopoly. In this we think there would be no inconvenience; at any rate, no one could assert that there was until the system had been given a fair trial.

Society, in its present state of godless disorganization, not only affords very little help to women who are eager and willing to help themselves, but positively, despite the loud boasting of the century as having originated “woman-reform,” places barriers in their way. For what else is it but a barrier to honest advancement that, when a respectable and virtuous woman of pleasing appearance goes to apply for some desirable situation offered by advertisement, she is often, very often, insulted by disgusting propositions, and her very expressions of indignant surprise put down as a part skilfully played by her before the inevitable surrender? This has been repeatedly done, in many cases successfully, for precautions had been taken beforehand to cut off the victim’s retreat and drown her cries; in others, when cowardice, the twin-sister of vice, has shrunk from the determined attitude of a virtuous woman at bay, the effort has happily failed. The public papers have sometimes—with their proverbial inefficiency and spasmodic, theatrical manner of showing up an abuse they know it will pay better to speak of than to act against—taken in hand this outrage to civilization, and published letters from the aggrieved women detailing the attempted insult, but how many more women, sensitive and gentle, shrink with horror from putting into print an experience they would gladly blot from their memory! It will be asked, what remedy can be devised for this? Immediate remedy, perhaps none; but remotely, the remedy of a newly formed habit of regarding women with at least the same respect as men who earn their daily bread. Physical weakness will always be an incentive to wicked men to insult unprotected women—that is to say, the vices of fallen human nature will never be wholly blotted out; and in this juncture, as in all others, the real remedy is the influence and authority of the church. Nowhere more than in Italy—that maligned country in which Protestants refuse to see anything save the last stage of corruption brought on by an “effete priesthood and a degraded religion”—is that touching charity known of portioning poor girls and affording them temporary refuge while out of employment. In Rome, this was one of the foremost Papal charities; the Holy Father took an especial personal interest in it; the Roman ladies vied with each other in enlarging the numbers of its recipients and adding to the fund provided for its continuance. In Venice, it used to be the affair of the Doge, who was conventionally father to all the dowerless, and the sworn protector of impoverished and threatened innocence. Many saints have made this their favorite charity, and many Italian marriages in the higher grades of life are accompanied by this crowning token of Christian brotherhood—the portioning and safe marrying of a poor young girl who might have otherwise fallen a victim to the licentiousness of some professional _roué_.

While it is to be deplored that the openings for female employment should still be so restricted, it is still more to be lamented that there are actually employments in which female labor is most unwarrantably used. In mining districts, this is peculiarly the case. There men and women work promiscuously, often with very little clothing on, and with still less sense of decency and morality. Little girls are brought up there with no knowledge of themselves as responsible moral agents, and conscious only that their work is not quite so valuable because their muscles are not quite so strong as those of their companions. Ignorance of religion, of moral restraints, and of social decencies, combine to make of these immortal beings only lithe savages, less enduring than the negro, less clever than the Indian. For the white race in some sense seems born to civilization, and when removed from civilizing influences relapses into far more brutal savageness than others. Again, we find the problem only solvable through the influence of the church; for she who originally drew together the nomad hordes of the North and East, and gathered from their ranks the founders of empires, the lawgivers of her own system, and the discoverers of the New World, is still the only mistress the dominant race which she once civilized will ever again acknowledge. Christendom has been rent in twain, and the Christian nations deprived of the bond that once knit them in one vast confederation and unity of interests; and until this whole has been restored, barbarism will struggle periodically to the surface, and strive to regain that ascendency it lost more than a thousand years ago. The abuses and horrors of female labor in mining districts are a blot upon civilization which never had any existence before the recent disruption of Christendom; for, wherever an abuse reared its serpent head, the church was at least there to protest, and exert her moral influence if not material force. It is idle to object that she did not, as a matter of fact, quell all abuses; this objection might be urged against the apparently frustrated mission of our Lord himself, as far as immediate tangible reforms were concerned, but the essential fact stands, that as long as the church’s authority remained undisputed there was at least in the world one tribunal which, being the acknowledged visible representative of God, could brand beyond appeal all encroachments on the rights of the defenceless, and wither the plans of cunning and cruelty against the poor. To those defended, this was a consolation; to those upbraided, it was at least a secret dread.

Having said so much upon the question of woman’s position as a bread-winner, we can only end by acknowledging that whatever is to be done will have to be done in fragments, and under the auspices of private enterprise alone. We cannot expect that in the present condition of the world any but individual efforts will be made for the advancement of the weaker sex, nor can we anticipate any but partial and isolated results. But, nevertheless, these efforts will not lack their reward, and we, who in the eyes of the world are now working in the dark, can be content with the knowledge that from these disjointed earthly efforts God is silently building up a great spiritual temple of rescued souls. It may be that we never shall succeed but in part, but this is the fate of all workers at a perfect system, and need not dismay us in the least. Theologians say that if the merits of our Lord’s Incarnation and Passion had redeemed but the single soul of his Blessed Mother, still such unheard-of merits would not therefore have been in the least superfluously applied; and in the same way may we humbly think of ourselves, that if each life spent in the effort of bettering the condition and widening the intellectual horizon of woman had no result save in the increased welfare of one individual, still the labor of such a life would not have been in vain.

“ABRAHAM”—“ABRON”—“AUBURN.”

A SHAKESPEARIAN EXCURSUS.

_Merc._—“Young Abraham Cupid, he that shot so trim.”—_Romeo and Juliet_, act ii. sc. I.[83]

CERTAINLY, this very singular prefix to the ordinary appellation of the god of love suggests difficulties of interpretation not easy of solution. It would appear to be one of those cant phrases familiar enough, we may presume, at a certain period, for, if not readily to be understood, the poet was unlikely to make use of it in such a connection. But the reason for its application has passed out of mind, and all the commentators have been at a loss to discover its meaning. Mr. Singer, editor of a well-known edition of the poet’s plays, disposes of the embarrassment in a manner equally summary and, as it seems to us, unsatisfactory. Accepting the suggestion of Mr. Upton, another commentator, that the word “Abraham” should be “Adam,” these critics agree in conferring upon Cupid a prænomen which it is clear neither Shakespeare nor his early editors affixed to the name by which he is usually known. It is equally certain that no other writer has ever employed the term “Adam” in such a way. In this state of the case, we seem still left to seek the meaning of the word “Abraham,” as thus used. In order to exhibit the whole merits of the question, let us subjoin the note of Mr. Singer in reference to it, and also that of Mr. Richard Grant White, editor of an American edition of Shakespeare. Mr. Singer remarks:

“All the old copies read _Abraham_ Cupid. The alteration was proposed by Mr. Upton. It evidently alludes to the famous archer, Adam Bell. So in Decker’s _Satiromastix_: ‘He shoots his bolt but seldom, but, when Adam lets go, he hits.’ ‘He shoots at thee, too, Adam Bell; and his arrows stick here.’ The ballad alluded to is ‘King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid,’ or, as it is called in some copies, ‘The Song of a Beggar and a King.’ It may be seen in the first volume of Percy’s _Reliques of Ancient Poetry_. The following stanza Shakespeare had particularly in view:

‘The _blinded_ boy, that _shoots so trim_,
From heaven down did hie;
He drew a dart, and shot at him,
In place where he did lie.’”
—_Singer’s Note._

Now, though it cannot be doubted that Shakespeare had in mind _the blinded boy that shoots so trim_, as set forth in the ballad referred to, nor that the expression “shot so trim” grew out of it, yet this fact is far from affording good reason for the belief that he had also Adam Bell in view, or that he had any thought of conferring the Christian name of that noted outlaw upon Cupid himself. The presumption would be that however _trim_ a bowman that “belted forestere” may have been, yet the skill of Cupid in this respect is too preeminent and well allowed, to admit of any compliment or illustration derived from the name of the very best merely human archer who ever drew cloth-yard shaft to ear. Mr. Singer appears to us, therefore, to have been misled by a merely superficial analogy into too great confidence in an improvident suggestion, when he ventured to substitute a conjectural emendation of the text for a reading which was uniform in “all the old copies.”

The note of Mr. White is as follows:

“Upton gave us the _Adam_ which takes the place of ‘Abraham’ in all the current editions, except Mr. Knight’s. But, as Mr. Dyce says, there is not the slightest authority for the change. The last-named gentleman conjectures that ‘Abraham’ in this line is a corruption of _Auburn_; as it is unquestionably in the following passages which he quotes:

‘Where is the oldest sonne of Pryam,
That Abraham coloured Troian? Dead.’
—_Soliman and Perseda_, 1599, sig. H, 3.

‘A goodlie, long, thicke Abram colored beard.’
—_Middleton’s Blurt_, _Master-Constable_, 1602, sig. D.

And in _Coriolanus_, act ii. sc. iii.

‘Not that our heads are some browns, some
blacke, some Abram,’

as we read in the first three folios.

“The suggestion is more than plausible; and we at least owe to Mr. Dyce the efficient protection which it must give to the original text. Cupid is always represented by the old painters as auburn-haired.”[84]

But Mr. White, it will be observed, begs the question as to the passages quoted from other authors. These passages simply prove that “Abraham coloured” and “Abram colored,” as applied to the hair and the beard, were common enough expressions at and before the time of Shakespeare. Besides, only conceive whether it would be characteristic of Shakespeare to write so tamely as “Young auburn Cupid”!

In fact, the term in question must have had a pertinent, significant, and peculiar meaning, well understood by his contemporaries.

Mr. Knight conceives the term _Abraham_ to be thus appropriated from the vagrants and beggars called “Abraham-men,” who were too often cheats;[85] and it is to be feared that he thus means us to imply the propriety of the appellation in this instance, upon the ungallant hypothesis that Cupid is himself the prince and chief exemplar of deceivers in general. But this specific characteristic we have always understood to belong to Mercury. For however, popularly, Cupid is estimated as a gay deceiver, Mercury was held by the Greeks the god of fraud and falsehood. The sailors have a phrase of “shamming Abraham” when one of the crew shirks his duty on pretence of sickness or for any other pretended excuse. No one seems to have thought of the possible origin of this proverbial expression, as used in reference to the beggars from whose habits it is evidently derived. It has occurred to us that, since Abraham was the father of the faithful, that is, the person most eminent for faith, his name may have been thus taken up, in a manner savoring more of wit than of reverence, in relation to persons disposed to live rather by _faith_ than by _works_—in fact, who showed the amplitude of their trust in whatever might turn up, oftentimes in a somewhat questionable shape, by doing no work at all. This would manifestly be a sort of _shamming Abraham_.

But however this may be, since all the old copies read _Abraham_ Cupid, and since the alteration of the text commended by Mr. Singer and others cannot be justified upon any grounds which they offer, or in any other mode, we must find some means of explaining the phrase as it stands, or remain in the dark as to its true interpretation. Certainly the matter is not at all cleared up by unauthorized substitution. Against Mr. Knight’s theory, on the other hand, militates the plain fact that, in every example cited, unless the one in controversy be taken as an exception, the word stands for a certain _color_, and not as qualifying any moral characteristic, or implying any personal defect. There is a difficulty, besides, in the _auburn_ hypothesis which it must be admitted is hard to get over. Supposing the word had been found written as it is, nowhere but in these two passages of Shakespeare, it might, perhaps, so pass muster. He might not very unnaturally be thought to have put such a corrupt form of the word _auburn_ purposely into the mouth of the worthy citizen in _Coriolanus_; and the term _auburn_, in such a connection, but misprinted in the course of time, might possibly be considered not absolutely inconsistent with the character of Mercutio and the strain of his speech. But when we find the same word used by two other writers contemporary with Shakespeare, both of whom would be likely to know the correct form and so to write it, if “Abraham” or “Abram” were merely a corrupt form of it, and especially as in one of the examples it occurs in a serious passage of a tragedy—it seems much more probable that the term “Abraham” itself, as so applied, had its own distinct and well-understood meaning, so familiar as to excite, at that period, no necessarily ludicrous association. And that this term _Abraham_ was a cant phrase which had come into common use is actually implied by the correspondent expression in the preceding line of this very speech of Mercutio:

“Speak to my gossip, Venus, one fair word,
One _nickname_ for her purblind son and heir;
Young _Abraham_ Cupid, he that shot so trim.”

Now, it is obvious that _auburn_, as being a common adjective, could constitute no nickname; whereas Abraham, as a noun proper, and at the same time signifying a certain color, serves that purpose completely, as, for example, _Cicero_, or _Nasica_.

We must own that a passage in Bishop Hall’s _Satires_ at first a little puzzled us, viz.:

“A lustie courtier whose curled head
With _abron_ locks was fairly furnished.”[86]

But upon reflection it will be found that, although _abron_, at first sight, looks much more like auburn than does either _Abraham_ or _Abram_, and it might appear, therefore, to be, in fact, a less corrupt form of that word than either of the other terms, yet, on the other hand, _abron_ is itself both in form and sound much nearer _Abram_ than it is to _auburn_, and may, therefore, be only a misspelt variation of the first rather than of the second expression.

In this philological dilemma, we believe we are able to throw a gleam of light on the obscurity; and, though the explanation is derived from a source apparently remote, there is, nevertheless, good ground for thinking it may prove satisfactory. We happen to have in our possession a copy of the quarto edition of the Latin Dictionary published at Cambridge, England, in 1693, which is the foundation of those dictionaries of the Latin language in common use which have succeeded it. The word _vitex_ is thus translated in it: “A kind of withy or willow, commonly called agnus castus, in English, park-leaves, _Abraham’s balm_, chaste or _hemp_ tree.”

Now, it is no less certain than melancholy to reflect upon that our respected ancestry, like their descendants, were compelled to supply the loss of hair by some adventitious covering, and that their periwigs were sometimes perhaps commonly manufactured out of either the coarser or the finer filament of flax or hemp, since those made of hair were very costly. We are confident we have read of a splendid and no doubt full-bottomed article of the latter material costing as much as fifty guineas, a couple of centuries ago.[87] We speak of flax and hemp indiscriminately, however botanically different, as those predecessors of ours were in the habit of doing, and as being, in fact, used for similar purposes, _e.g._, “Except the flax or hemp plant, and a few other plants, there is very little herbage of any sort.”[88]

To the coarser filament of both, after the article is heckled, is still, we believe, applied the name of _tow_. In either case, the substance, when thus subjected to the nicer process of manufacture, presents that well-known whitish brown color so often and so enthusiastically celebrated by the elder English poets in the aspect of “flaxen locks.” We do not know, and, after considerable research, have been unable to ascertain with accuracy, what was the peculiar relation of the “hemp-tree” to those other vegetable productions; but infer from the name that there was a certain resemblance in the fibre of the one to the others, and that probably to some extent it was formerly used for similar purposes. At any rate, it is only with the name and the associations it calls up that we have particularly to do. If the hemp-tree, otherwise called “Abraham’s balm,” furnished when manufactured an article similar in color to that of the other vegetable productions referred to, a sufficient foundation is laid for this inquiry.

Bosworth’s _Dictionary of the Anglo-Saxon Language_ affords a striking illustration of the general subject. He says that “flax signified, in earlier times, also _hair_ and all kinds of hairy thread. In Austria, the flax is called haar, hair. The Danish hör signifies the same.” He adds: “The Old English flix-_down_, soft hair, is another instance that flax in earlier ages was used to designate hair.”

Of the metaphorical use of the word the poets are full of pregnant examples, for instance:

“Her flaxen haire, insnaring all beholders,
She next permits to wave about her shoulders.”[89]

“All flaxen was his poll.”[90]

“Adown the shoulders of the heavenly fair
In easy ringlets flowed her flaxen hair;
And with a golden comb, in matchless grace,
She taught each lock its most becoming place.”[91]

If to these examples we add the following passage, we shall perceive that the hue in question enjoyed a special distinction and favor:

“The four colors signify the four virtues; the _flaxey_, having a whiteness, appertains to temperance, because it makes _candidam et mundam animam_.”[92]

And as this is a hue which frequently distinguishes the heads of youngsters, a large proportion of whom, at an early period of life, we know as _white-headed_ urchins, and in England as well as in the United States even as _tow-heads_, we are very strongly inclined to believe the color and the term “Abraham” or “Abram” to be thus derived from association, and to be so applied to the boy Cupid; the word _Abraham_, in this connection, having come to express, to a certain extent, the _tow_, or the color of the tow, of _hemp_, or flax, or equally of the finer part which remains after the tow is combed out. So that, in all probability, the cant term “Abraham,” as thus applied in Shakespeare’s day, meant precisely the same as _flaxen_, with, perhaps, a slightly humorous allusion. And in this view of the case, we must put in a _caveat_ to the allegation of Mr. White, that, if “Cupid is always represented by the old painters as auburn-haired,” then they have so depictured him without sufficient authority; indeed, in contradiction of the best authorities; for the classical evidence on this point will show his hair to be described as of that color which is usually known by the style of “flaxen”; since auburn is really a dun color, or “reddish brown,” whereas Cupid’s hair was flaxen, or, as we now say, blonde. For instance:

“The god of love was usually represented as a plump-cheeked boy, rosy and naked, with _light_ hair floating on his shoulders.”[93]

“Eros is usually represented as a roguish boy, plump-cheeked and naked, with _light_ hair floating on his shoulders.”[94]

We cannot but think, therefore, that this manifest distinction of hue effectually disposes of the theory that “abron” stands for any misspelling of _auburn_, as suggested by Mr. Dyce, and adopted by Mr. White.

It appears, by the bye, that this same _agnus castus_, or hemp-tree, which has given occasion for these remarks, was supposed from an early period to possess some peculiar virtues, which prompted its other appellation of “The Chaste Tree”; and to this circumstance was owing, doubtless, its introduction by the poets in their descriptions of various ceremonials. Thus, Chaucer has three several references to it in his “Floure and Leafe,” and very noticeably, as follows:

“Some of laurer, and some full pleasantly
Had chaplets of woodbind; and, sadly,
Some of _agnus castus_ weren also
Chaplets fresh.”

So Dryden, also, modernizing this very passage of the older poet:

“Of laurel some, of woodbine many more,
And wreaths of _agnus castus_ many bore.”

It ought to be suggested that the statement herein made as to the earlier practice of wearing wigs of flax and tow, in addition to some direct evidence to the point, is partly a matter of inference, and partly due to rather vague recollections of youthful studies (to which we have not thought it worth while to recur) among the romance writers of the last century. Their famous heroes undoubtedly were more or less familiar with “Abraham-men” and personages of that description; and it must be confessed that the impression of the “tow-wigs” worn, for purposes of disguise or with whatever object, by the highwaymen, sturdy beggars, and other worthies introduced into their novels, is amongst the strongest left on our mind by those lucubrations of their genius.

The inference which we have ventured upon is that, since wigs were articles of supposed necessity, and certainly have been used from early times; and since those manufactured of hair must have been much more costly in former days than at present, the probabilities are very strong that this important description of head-gear was made, more or less commonly, out of that material which still, we believe, affords the foundation of those ingenious works of art, the color and beauty of which furnished the poets with an ordinary and apt illustration of bright and flowing locks.

We are not without testimony on this point, however, and that, too, of no less authority than Walter Scott, which is literally to the point:

“The identical Peter wears a huge great-coat, threadbare and patched. His hair, half gray half black, escaped in elf-locks around a huge wig _made of tow_, as it seemed to me.”[95]

Addison also tells us, in a paper of the _Spectator_, as quoted by Johnson:

“I bought a fine flaxen long wig.”

It is true, Dr. Johnson cites this example in his _Dictionary_ as only meaning something “fair, long, and flowing, as if made of flax”; but we are far from thinking the qualification of his definition inevitably correct, any more than in some other well-known instances. The great lexicographer imagines a wig of hair as presenting the appearance of one made of flax; but we see no reason why the excellent _Spectator_ should not be taken literally according to his expression; nor why he may not have appeared upon the occasion to which he refers in a veritable wig of flax, especially since such an object of manufacture was common, could be made to bear so close a resemblance to hair, probably looked better, and was of much less cost. We find a still more decisive example in the _Spectator_, which scarcely admits of any other than the most literal interpretation:

“The greatest beau at our next county sessions was dressed in a most monstrous flaxen periwig that was made in King William’s reign.”[96]

The following example is equally pertinent:

“A fair, flaxen, full-bottomed periwig.”[97]

In this instance, the word “fair” would seem clearly to apply to the color, and “flaxen” to the material, for otherwise the use of both expressions would be tautological.

Indeed, we have not left this matter to conjecture and inference merely; for we took occasion to inquire upon this topic, several years ago, of a late celebrated hair-dresser; and, in fact, these notes have been kept on hand for a period considerably longer than the nine years prescribed by Horace for the due refinement and perfection of immortal verse. Our excellent friend, M. Charrier, of Boston, informed us that he had been called upon to manufacture actual wigs of the filament of flax; and he remembered one particular occasion, when an article of special beauty was required for the use of a popular actress, who was to perform in a play which he thought was called “The fair maid with the golden locks.”[98] Thus we trace the article to the stage itself, and there, in all probability, its construction of the material in question is traditional, and is much more likely to have originated at a period earlier than the time of Shakespeare than at a later date. Of course, if M. Charrier had lived to our day, he would have found plenty of business in constructing those mountainous piles of various vegetable material with which ladies now see fit to load their heads—“some browne, some blacke, some Abram.”[99]

In corroboration of these views, explanatory, we hope, of the strange expression, Abraham Cupid, to modern eyes and ears, we have just met with a singularly apt illustration. A very young lady of our family received last Christmas, as a present, a doll with a remarkable head of hair. It was long, fine, profuse, admirably curled, and exactly of that brilliantly fair color, the lightest possible shade of brown, sometimes but rarely seen in its perfection on the heads of young persons, and of the hue which might well be imagined as a peculiar and suitable attribute of the god of love. An examination of this attractive ornament to the seat of whatever intellect a doll might be supposed to possess showed at once, that it was skilfully manufactured, doubtless by accomplished French artisans, of the filament of flax.[100]

From these premises the following propositions seem to be fairly deducible:

1. That, in the time of Shakespeare, the word _Abraham_ was sometimes employed as a cant term expressive of a certain color.