Little Essays of Love and Virtue — A Closer Reading

Courtship as a Natural Instinct

Ellis devotes considerable attention to the concept of courtship, which he treats not as a mere social ritual but as a fundamental biological drive. He argues that the instinct for courtship is 'even more highly developed in the female than in the male' and that its satisfaction is a natural preliminary to reproductive activity. The author contrasts this with the repressive effects of modern marriage, which he claims has 'diminished its significance and even abolished its necessity.' Notably, Ellis observes that even when courtship appears absent—as in cases where masculine force decides the union—the 'exhibition of force by a lover' can itself be a source of 'pleasurable stimulation' for women, thus preserving the essence of courtship. This observation reveals Ellis's willingness to acknowledge the erotic dimensions of power dynamics, a theme he returns to throughout the essays.

The Repression of Women's Erotic Rights

Ellis argues that the established social order, while ostensibly protective of women, has systematically diminished their 'erotic rights.' He traces this to a confluence of factors: the man's position as 'sole and uncontested head of the family,' economic developments that turned women into 'objects of barter,' and the 'rigidity of the marriage bond.' The result, he contends, is that women's sexual lives were 'unnatural and repressive,' fostering reproduction while rendering courtship difficult. Ellis is careful to note that this order was 'described, and in good faith, as beneficial to women,' but he points out the asymmetry: men were free to exercise activities outside the home, 'even, with tacit general consent, on the erotic side.' The language is clinical yet pointed, avoiding moral condemnation in favor of analytical dissection.

The Interiorisation of Moral Rules

A key insight in Ellis's analysis is the process by which external social and legal constraints become internalized. He writes that 'new moral, spiritual, and religious forces' worked on the 'rules of merely exterior order' and 'interiorised them, thus giving them power over the souls as well as over the bodies of women.' This psychological turn is central to Ellis's argument: the oppression of women's erotic lives is not merely a matter of law or economics but of deeply ingrained moral feeling. The author suggests that women themselves come to accept these restrictions as natural, making reform particularly difficult. Ellis's phrasing—'power over the souls'—echoes his broader concern with the interplay between individual psychology and social structure, a hallmark of his approach throughout the Studies in the Psychology of Sex.

The Art of Living: Love and Virtue Reconciled

In the preface, Ellis frames the essays as exploring 'the art of making love and the art of being virtuous' as 'two aspects of the great art of living that are, rightly regarded, harmonious and not at variance.' This statement encapsulates his overarching thesis: that love and virtue, often seen as opposing forces, can be reconciled when properly understood. The author's diction here—'art' rather than 'science'—signals a humanistic orientation, even as he draws on biological and psychological evidence. Ellis's tone is optimistic, if cautious, as he expresses hope that the book might help 'make the world better for those who come after them.' The essays thus function as both a critique of existing mores and a constructive proposal for a more integrated understanding of human sexuality.

Readers approaching Little Essays of Love and Virtue should attend to Ellis's careful distinctions between instinct and custom, and his insistence on the biological roots of courtship. The essays reward close reading for their nuanced treatment of power, pleasure, and morality, though the excerpts leave the full arc of his argument incomplete. Ellis's voice is that of a rationalist reformer, seeking to illuminate rather than to shock, and his prose rewards patience with its clarity and precision.

I found myself thinking about Ellis’s quiet insistence that we are shaped by forces we barely name, and how that same hidden weight lingers in another book I read years ago. There is a particular hush in both, a patient unraveling of what we assume is simple. The Service — Story, Setting & Ideas carries that echo, though it stays closer to silence.