THE ARBITRARY CLASSIFICATION OF SEX

In an essay on Vauvenargues Mr. John Morley speaks with characteristic
causticity of those epigrammatists 'who persist in thinking of man and
woman as two different species,' and who make verbal capital out of the
fancied distinction in the form of smart epigrams beginning '_Les
femmes_.' It is one of Shakespeare's cardinal characteristics that _he
understood woman_. Mr. Meredith's fame as a novelist is largely due to
the fact that he too _understands women_. The one spot on the sun of
Robert Louis Stevenson's fame, so we are told, is that he could _never
draw a woman_. His capacity for drawing men counted for nothing,
apparently, beside this failure. Evidently the Sphinx has not the face
of a woman for nothing. That is why no one has read her riddle,
translated her mystic smile. Yet many people smile mysteriously,
without any profound meanings behind their smile, with no other reason
than a desire to mystify. Perhaps the Sphinx smiles to herself just for
the fun of seeing us take her smile so seriously. And surely women must
so smile as they hear their psychology so gravely discussed. Of course,
the superstition is invaluable to them, and it is only natural that they
should make the most of it. Man is supposed to be a complete ignoramus
in regard to all the specialised female 'departments'--from the supreme
mystery of the female heart to the humble domestic mysteries of a
household. Similarly, men are supposed to have no taste in women's
dress, yet for whom do women clothe themselves in the rainbow and the
sea-foam, if not to please men? And was not the high-priest of that
delicious and fascinating mystery a man--if it be proper to call the
late M. Worth a man,--as the best cooks are men, and the best waiters?

It would seem to be assumed from all this mystification that men are