as little more than chattel—that is, possessions. Although they had a few civil rights, their power was limited by tradition, religion, social structure, and education (or the lack thereof). Defoe's reasons for writing the essay are unknown, but he was a prolific writer of essays—in eighteenth-century language,projects—that address the "reformation" of society, and it is clear that he views the education of women in need of reformation.

He begins the essay with what would have seemed to his male readers as a startling assertion:

I have often thought of it as one of the most barbarous customs in the world, considering us as a civilized and a Christian country, that we deny the advantages of learning to women. We reproach the sex every day with folly and impertinence; while I am confident, had they the advantages of education equal to us, they would be guilty of less than ourselves.

In a society that views women as, in a religious context, the weaker sex, having been tempted by Satan to violate God's dictum not to eat the apple from the Tree of Knowledge, Defoe's opening would have shocked many readers: Defoe is asserting that were women as educated as (educated) men, they would actually create fewer evils than men create.

He follows this with another reasonable and demonstrably accurate observation:

And I would but ask any who slight the sex for their understanding, what is a man (a gentleman, I mean) good for, that is taught no more?

No one reading the essay would have failed to see the similarities between a wealthy but uneducated gentleman and an uneducated woman of equal station. Defoe's essay is pointing to an inequality that most educated men would have understood both intellectually and morally, but their cultural and religious training would have prevented them from changing this paradigm except within their own families.

Not wanting to rely solely on a reasoned argument, Defoe appeals to his readers' religious beliefs—he moves from logos (reason) to ethos (belief system):

If knowledge and understanding had been useless additions to the sex, GOD Almighty would never have given them capacities; for he made nothing needless.

For most of his readers, Protestants and Catholics, this argument is powerful because, despite the Biblical (Old Testament) strictures against women, if they accept the proposition God is truly omniscient and gives the same intellectual capacity to women and men, there is no reason to deny women equal opportunity to become educated. Defoe is, of course, ignoring the Biblical cautions against women as spiritually weaker than men, but to the growing appeal of reason as the basis for a well-lived life in the eighteenth century, this argument resonates with men who are intensely religious but are also moving from a church-centered world view to one dominated by reason.

Defoe brings his argument to a close by assuring men that the education of women will not threaten the status quo—men handling politics, economics, social development—and, perhaps more important, women will be equal, but separate, partners:

A woman of sense and breeding will scorn as much to encroach upon the prerogative of man, as a man of sense will scorn to oppress the weakness of the woman. But if the women’s souls were refined and improved by teaching, that word would be lost.

For those male readers concerned that educated women will trample on their traditional roles in society, Defoe makes it clear that women's education will actually dispose them not to interfere with the "prerogative of man." And for those concerned with the continuing threat of a woman's weakness—by which he means her intellectual deficiencies—Defoe points out that women's most serious weakness would no longer exist.

In this essay, Defoe proposes nothing less than a paradigm shift in relations between men and women—after all, Defoe is a great proposer—and he accomplishes this with appeals to reason, religious beliefs, and practical realities in equal measure.