Darcy's Trial by M. A. Sandiford

of their claims. Can we find even one clear example of a woman showing superior ability in philosophy, or musical composition, or scientific discovery?’
    Elizabeth considered. ‘I have heard women who excel in musical performance .’
    ‘That’s right. We perform, but we do not compose. We draw prettily, but we are not great artists.’
    ‘Nor are most men. The answer may be that excellence requires both aptitude and encouragement, and that only men are favoured with both.’
    ‘Yes …’ Bridget thought about this for a few moments, then raised a finger. ‘But I’m not sure encouragement is the right word. We recently attended a chamber concert of works by Telemann, and in his introduction the conductor gave some details of the composer’s childhood. It seems Telemann took lessons in singing and playing the organ at the age of ten—both activities seen as fitting for the son of a clergyman. However, the boy by his own initiative taught himself three other instruments, and began to compose his own arias and motets. The family disapproved, wishing him to follow a different career, and his mother confiscated his instruments and forbade him to play or compose. But the boy was determined, and kept his interest alive by composing in secret, until he was old enough to leave home and attend school, where the masters recognised his ability.’
    ‘So although discouraged, he had opportunity ,’ Elizabeth said. ‘The sons of the gentry are sent off to school and then to university. We daughters stay at home with our families and learn to be good companions.’
    ‘Just so. But what I want to know is this.’ Bridget leaned forward intently. ‘Suppose that a girl of ten has been taught, like Telemann, to sing and play—as many are. And suppose that she conceives a desire to compose music too, and pursues this goal with the same determination. Is it true to say that she has no opportunities? She can study the work of the great composers. With a little ingenuity she can acquire books on the art of composition. What holds her back?’
    ‘I believe some women have composed music,’ Elizabeth pointed out.
    ‘And has their work been published or performed?’
    ‘Perhaps not. But there are many published female writers . Fanny Burney for instance—who was also discouraged by her family. Or Hannah More. And of course Mary Wollstonecraft herself, who is the reason we are having this conversation.’
    ‘That’s right.’ Bridget sighed in frustration. ‘So why have women been successful in some fields of intellectual endeavour and not others? Are we disposed by nature to write novels but not to compose music? Or …’
    ‘Or do some arts require only general experience of life, while others depend on years of formal training, in the company of other students?’ Elizabeth interrupted. ‘Imagine what it must be like to pass several years at an institution dedicated to specialised study, in the daily company not only of masters, but of others studying the same discipline.’
    Bridget’s face coloured with emotion. ‘ That is what I would have liked to experience.’
    Elizabeth nodded eagerly. ‘And until women as well as men have this opportunity, nobody can say for sure what we can and cannot do.’

    As the Beaumont carriage neared Cheapside, Elizabeth began to worry at the lateness of the hour. She found her aunt still up, waiting for her in the parlour; Mr Gardiner instead had gone to bed after a tiring day at work.
    Mrs Gardiner motioned her to take a seat, and with a grave expression said, ‘I’m relieved to see you back safe and sound, Lizzy.’
    ‘I didn’t mean you to wait up.’
    ‘I’ll go to bed now. I wanted …’ Mrs Gardiner coloured with embarrassment. ‘I wanted to ask you to be punctual for breakfast tomorrow morning. There is something your uncle would like to discuss with you.’
    Elizabeth felt a twinge of unease. ‘Of what nature?’
    ‘I’d prefer to leave my husband to explain.’ She