Certain naturalists think that the number of women exceeds that of
men; but as many statisticians are of the opposite opinion, we will
make the most probable calculation by allowing fifteen millions for
the women.

We will begin by cutting down this sum by nine millions, which stands
for those who seem to have some resemblance to women, but whom we are
compelled to reject upon serious considerations.

Let us explain:

Naturalists consider man to be no more than a unique species of the
order bimana, established by Dumeril in his _Analytic Zoology_, page
16; and Bory de Saint Vincent thinks that the ourang-outang ought to
be included in the same order if we would make the species complete.

If these zoologists see in us nothing more than a mammal with
thirty-two vertebrae possessing the hyoid bone and more folds in the
hemispheres of the brain than any other animal; if in their opinion no
other differences exist in this order than those produced by the
influence of climate, on which are founded the nomenclature of fifteen
species whose scientific names it is needless to cite, the
physiologists ought also to have the right of making species and
sub-species in accordance with definite degrees of intelligence and
definite conditions of existence, oral and pecuniary.

Now the nine millions of human creatures which we here refer to
present at first sight all the attributes of the human race; they have
the hyoid bone, the coracoid process, the acromion, the zygomatic
arch. It is therefore permitted for the gentlemen of the Jardin des
Plantes to classify them with the bimana; but our Physiology will
never admit that women are to be found among them. In our view, and in
the view of those for whom this book is intended, a woman is a rare
variety of the human race, and her principal characteristics are due
to the special care men have bestowed upon its cultivation,--thanks to
the power of money and the moral fervor of civilization! She is
generally recognized by the whiteness, the fineness and softness of
her skin. Her taste inclines to the most spotless cleanliness. Her
fingers shrink from encountering anything but objects which are soft,
yielding and scented. Like the ermine she sometimes dies for grief on
seeing her white tunic soiled. She loves to twine her tresses and to
make them exhale the most attractive scents; to brush her rosy nails,
to trim them to an almond shape, and frequently to bathe her delicate
limbs. She