CHAPTER XIX.
Suggestions.
Ignoring the Evil—Punishment fit for the “Deserter” and the Seducer— The “Know-nothing” and “Do-nothing” Principle The Emigration of Women of Bad Character.
It is easy enough to understand, if one finds the courage to face this worst of all
social evils, and inquire calmly into the many shapes its origin takes, how very
possible it is that there may be living in a state of depravity scores and
hundreds of women who are what they are out of no real fault
of their own. “Then why do they not turn, and reform their infamous
lives?” the indignant reader may ask. “They may if they will. Is there not
this, that, and the other asylum open to them?” Perhaps so. Only perhaps. But
for reasons hinted at in the commencement of this chapter, it might be clearly
enough shown that, “this, that, and t’other,” to a very large extent,
really and truly represent the substantiality of the asylums to which the curse
is admitted for purgation. We have foolishly and blindly ignored the evil, and
consequently we have not been free to provide adequately for the reception of
those who have lived in it, and are now desirous of returning, if they may, to
decent life. We have some asylums of the kind; but in capacity they are about as
well adapted to perform the prodigious amount of work ready for them as a
ten-gallon filter would be to purify the muddy waters of the Thames.
Undoubtedly there are thousands of debased and wanton
wretches for whom the doors of such houses of reform and refuge, did they exist
in plenty, might in vain stand open. But let the reader for a moment consider
how many there are at this moment whose fall was mainly due to misplaced trust
and foolish confidence, and who are kept in their degradation out of a sort of
mad and bitter spite against themselves. As everyone can vouch who has taken an
interest in these fallen ones, and kindly questioned them on their condition and
their willingness to turn from it, nothing is more common in their mouths than
the answer, “I don’t care. It’s a life good enough for me. A pretty image
I should appear in well-bred company, shouldn’t I? It’s no use your preaching
to me. I’ve made my bed, and I must lie on it.” And it would be found in
countless cases that these poor wretches did not in the original “make their
bed,” as they call it, and that it reveals a wonderful amount of forgiving and
generosity in them to profess that they did. If we could discover the truth, we
might get at the real bed-makers—the villanous conjurers of couches of roses
that were so speedily to turn to thorns and briars—in the seducer and the base
deserter. If ever the Legislature finds courage enough to take up this great
question in earnest, it is to be hoped that ample provision will be made for the
proper treatment of the heartless scoundrel. As says a writer in an old number
of the Westminster Review:
“The deserter, not the seducer, should be branded with the same
kind and degree of reprobation with which society now visits the coward and the
cheat. The man who submits to insult rather than fight; the gambler who packs
the cards, or loads the dice, or refuses to pay his debts of honour, is hunted
from among even his unscrupulous associates as a stained and tarnished
character. Let the same measure of
retributive justice be dealt to the seducer who deserts the woman who has
trusted him, and allows her to come upon the town. We say the deserter—not
the seducer; for there is as wide a distinction between them as there is between
the gamester and the sharper. Mere seduction will never be visited with
extreme severity among men of the world, however correct and refined may be
their general tone of morals; for they will always make large allowances on the
score of youthful passions, favouring circumstances, and excited feeling.
Moreover, they well know that there is a wide distinction—that there are all
degrees of distinction —between a man who commits a fault of this kind, under
the influence of warm affections and a fiery temperament, and the coldhearted,
systematic assailer of female virtue, whom all reprobate and shun. It is
universally felt that you cannot, with any justice, class these men in the same
category, nor mete out to them the same measure of condemnation. But the man
who, when his caprice is satisfied, casts off his victim as a worn-out garment
or a who allows the woman who trusted his protestations to sink from the
position of his companion to the loathsome life of prostitution, because his
seduction and desertion has left no other course open to her; who is not ready
to make any sacrifice of place, of fortune, of reputation even, in order to save
one whom he has once loved from such an abyss of wretched infamy— must surely
be more stained, soiled, and hardened in soul, more utterly unfitted for the
company or sympathy of gentlemen or men of honour, than any coward, any gambler,
any cheat!”
I may not lay claim to being the discoverer of this
well-written outburst of manly indignation. It is quoted by a gentleman—a
medical gentleman—who has inquired deeper and written more to the real purpose
on this painful subject than any other writer with whom I am acquainted. I
allude to Dr. Acton. The volume that contains it is of necessity not one that
might be introduced to the drawing-room, but it is one that all thinking men
would do well to procure and peruse. Dr. Acton handles a tremendously difficult
matter masterly and courageously; and while really he is of as delicate a mind
as a lady, he does not scruple to enunciate his honest convictions respecting
the prevalent evil of prostitution, as though it were an evil as commonly
recognised and as freely discussed as begging or thieving. In his introductory
pages he says:
“To those who profess a real or fictitious ignorance of
prostitution, its miseries and its ill-effects, and those again who plead conscience
for inaction, I have this one reply. Pointing to the outward signs of
prostitution in our streets and hospitals, I inquire whether we can flatter
ourselves that the subject has drifted into a satisfactory state on the
‘know-nothing’ and ‘do-nothing’ principle. I hint at the perilous
self-sufficiency of the Pharisee, and the wilful blindness of the Levite who
‘passed by on the other side,’ and I press upon them that, after reading
this work and testing its author’s veracity, they should either refute its
arguments or be themselves converted.... I have little to say in the way of
apology for my plain-speaking. The nature of the subject has forced this upon
me. To have called things here treated of by another than their right name would
have been in any writer an absurdity, in me a gross one. The experiences I have
collected may to optimists and recluses appear exaggerated. The visions I have
indulged in may be hard to grasp. But this more complicated knot demands a
swordsman, not an infant. The inhabitants of a provincial city demanded of
Lord Palmerston that the angel of pestilence should be stayed by a day of
national prayer and fasting. ‘I will fast with you and pray with you,’ was
the statesman’s answer; ‘but let us also drain, scrub, wash, and be
clean.’”
If by this taste of the preface to Dr. Acton’s book I
induce my male readers to dip into it for themselves, I shall feel that I have
done the cause the worthy writer has at heart good service. It will be something
if the brief quotation bespeaks attention to the other extracts from the same
genuine source that herein appear. On the subject of seduction and desertion,
Mr. Acton writes:
“If I could not get imprisonment of the male party to a
seduction substituted for the paltry fine of half-a-crown a-week, I would at
least give to the commonwealth, now liable to a pecuniary damage by bastardy,
some interest in its detection and punishment. The union-house is now often
enough the home of the deserted mother and the infant bastard; and the guardians
of the poor ought, I think, to have the right, in the interest of the commune,
to act as bastardy police, and to be recouped their charges. I would not allow
the maintenance of an illegitimate child to be at the expense of any but the
father. I would make it the incubus on him, not on its mother; and I would not
leave his detection, exposure, and money loss at the option of the latter. A
young man who has a second and third illegitimate child, by different women, has
not lived without adding some low cunning to his nature. It often happens that a
fellow of this sort will, for a time, by specious promises and presents to a
girl he fully intends ultimately to desert, defer making any payments for or
on account of her child. If he can for twelve months, and without entering into
any shadow of an agreement (and we may all guess how far the craft of an injured
woman will help her to one that would hold water), stave-off any application on
her part to the authorities, her claim at law is barred; and she herself, defied
at leisure, becomes in due course chargeable to her parish or union. But not
thus should a virtuous state connive at the obligations of paternity being
shuffled on to its public shoulders, when, by a very trifling modification of
the existing machinery, they might be adjusted on the proper back, permanently
or temporarily, as might be considered publicly expedient. I would enact, I
say, by the help of society, that, in the first place, the seduction of a
female, properly proved, should involve the male in a heavy pecuniary fine,
according to his position—not at all by way of punishment, but to
strengthen, by the very firm abutment of the breeches-pocket, both him and his
good resolutions against the temptations and force of designing woman. I would
not offer the latter, as I foresee will be instantaneously objected, this bounty
upon sinfulness—this incentive to be a seducer; but, on the contrary, the
money should be due to the community, and recoverable in the county-court or
superior court at the suit of its engine, the union; and should be invested by
the treasurer of such court, or by the county, or by some public trustee in
bastardy, for the benefit of the mother and child. The child’s portion of this
deodand should be retained by such public officer until the risk of its becoming
chargeable to the community quasi-bastard should be removed by the mother’s
marraige or otherwise; and the mother’s share should be for her benefit as an
emigration-fund or marriage-portion.”
“We cannot imagine,” says another authority, “that
anyone can seriously suppose that prostitution would be made either more
generally attractive or respectable by the greater decency and decorum which
administrative supervision would compel it to throw over its exterior. We know
that the absence of these does not deter one of irregular passions from the low
pursuit; and we know, moreover, wherever these are needed for the behoof of a
more scrupulous and refined class of fornicators, they are to be found. We are
convinced also that much of the permanent ruin to the feelings and character
which results from the habit of visiting the haunts of prostitution is to be
attributed to the coarse language and the brutal manners which prevail there;
and that this vice, like many others, would lose much of its evil by losing all
of grossness that is separable from it. Nor do we fear that the improvement in
the tone of prostitution which would
thus result would render its unhappy victims less anxious to escape from it.
Soften its horrors and gild its loathsomeness as you may, there will always
remain enough to revolt all who are not wholly lost. Much too—everything
almost—is gained, if you can retain any degree
of self-respect among the fallen. The more of this that remains, the greater
chance is there of ultimate redemption; it is always a mistaken and a cruel
policy to allow vice to grow desperate and reckless.” It is for the interest
of society at large, as well as for that of the guilty individual, that we
should never break down the bridge behind such a sinner as the miserable
“unfortunate” even.