to chuck under the chin.


This cynical view of religious emotionalism, and with it of the whole
stock of ecclesiastical balderdash, is probably responsible, at least in
part, for the reluctance of women to enter upon the sacerdotal
career. In those Christian sects which still bar them from the
pulpit--usually on the imperfectly concealed ground that they are not
equal to its alleged demands upon the morals and the intellect--one
never hears of them protesting against the prohibition; they are quite
content to leave the degrading imposture to men, who are better
fitted for it by talent and conscience. And in those baroque
sects, chiefly American, which admit them they show no eagerness
to put on the stole and chasuble. When the first clergywoman
appeared in the United States, it was predicted by alarmists that men
would be driven out of the pulpit by the new competition. Nothing
of the sort has occurred, nor is it in prospect. The whole corps of
female divines in the country might be herded into one small room.
Women, when literate at all, are far too intelligent to make effective
ecclesiastics. Their sharp sense of reality is in endless opposition to
the whole sacerdotal masquerade, and their cynical humour stands
against the snorting that is inseparable from pulpit oratory.


Those women who enter upon the religious life are almost
invariably moved by some motive distinct from mere pious
inflammation. It is a commonplace, indeed, that, in Catholic
countries, girls are driven into convents by economic considerations
or by disasters of amour far oftener than they are drawn there by the
hope of heaven. Read the lives of the female saints, and you will