Until Recently, A Woman's Face Was Her Fortune, And Man Demanded Only That she should be a decorative possession—something he could display with pride as discovered, won, and belonging to him exclusively. It was quite unnecessary for her to be au fait with the books of the moment, to be at all informative about distant parts of the globe, to discuss matters political, scientific or religious. Her “limited” intellect was to be devoted to matters within its grasp; as a girl, to such mysterious rites as deportment, and chiefly to the perfection of her charms to ensnare the desirable husband; later, the making of jams and the maintaining of a comfortable home. Great things in themselves, you may say, and sufficiently absorbing. This state of affairs was admirable for the woman who had distinct physical charms worthy of development and exploitation, who could find in her face ample material for meditation and construction, whose “brain” was fully occupied in the service of Dame Fashion. As a result, she became the belle of innumerable ballrooms. For two “seasons” she reigned supreme, appeared everywhere, always dazzling, remote, but somewhat silent. It was only a question of time, but inevitably, some susceptible male succumbed to her carefully prepared attractions.

A brilliant wedding, and no more. Like a meteor she swam into society's orbit, danced her brief hour, and vanished, as Cinderella.

Why ? Because about her was nothing solid nor permanent. Poor ephemeral little ghost—where are you now? And what has become of the smile that won so many hearts in the ‘nineties?

But we have forgotten that often pitied and often respected puzzle, the plain woman, of whom there are thousands.

To this determined army, bereft of the dimples, deprived of the liquid eyes, the sweeping lashes, and the exquisite retrousseé noses, for which kingdoms have been won and lost—to these women we owe the fact that at the present time brains are recognised as not only valuable but compulsory feminine attributes. Indeed, at a famous Women's Club recently, a debate was organised on “Brains v. Beauty,” and it seemed that what a woman can produce, what she can discuss, what she can impart, were definitely more to be desired than the mere possession of a lovely face.

Of course, occasionally we see some fortunate woman who can flaunt her page 58 beauty and exercise at the same time her capable brain before a gasping world. And we cannot deny the power of a beautiful eye, nor help admitting that an attractive voice lends weight to the most insignificant contribution to conversation; if you have beauty you will always receive attention.

To these women, whose brains demanded activity which their faces could not provide, to their courage and achievements we owe it that men are forced to acknowledge the capabilities of a woman's brain. Think of the books they have written; the pictures they have painted; the good they have done among the poor—think of the happiness they have brought as nurses, as teachers, as missionaries! What has beauty to show compared with such a record? Merely here and there a Cleopatra, a Helen of Troy, an unhappy Mary Queen of Scots, a vivacious Lady Hamilton, a tragic Marie Antoinette. Freed from the necessity of appearing divine, a woman can now be human. She can use her brain wherever she wishes; can demand attention by undeniable prowess; can exercise her gifts of intuition, of clear sight and quick thought. No longer will the plain woman be neglected and pitied, for she has it in her power to rule the world.

It has been said that “The light that lies In women's eyes, It lies, and lies, and lies.” Perhaps, but not the light of her brain and her soul.