“Much as I love her, so would I; but, Elise, we will anticipate no such dreadful destiny.  She has a clear fine mind, is studious and ambitious, but certainly not a genius, unless it be in music; and she can be trained into a cultivated refined woman, sufficiently conversant with the sciences to comprehend their contemporaneous development, without threatening us with pedantry, or adopting a style suitable to the groves of Crotona in the days of Damo, or the abstruse mystical diction that doomed Hypatia to the mercy of the monks.  After all, why scare up a blue-stockinged ogre, which may have no intention of depredating upon our peace; for to be really learned is no holiday amusement in this cumulative age, and offers little temptation to a young girl.  Not long since, I found a sentence bearing upon this subject, which impressed itself upon my mind, as both strong and healthy:  ’And by this you may recognize true education from false.  False education is a delightful thing, and warms you, and makes you every day think more of yourself; and true education is a deadly cold thing, with a gorgon’s head on her shield, and makes you every day think worse of yourself.  Worse in two ways also, more is the pity:  it is perpetually increasing the personal sense of ignorance, and the personal sense of fault.’”

“In that event, may I venture to wonder where and how you and Douglass stand in your own estimation?  If quotations are en regle, I can match your reverence, though unfortunately my feminine memory is not like yours, a tireless beast of burden, and I must be allowed to read.  Here is the book close at hand, in my stocking basket.  Now, wise and gentle sirs, this is my ideal of proper, healthful, feminine education, as contrasted with pur new-fangled method of making girls either lay-figures for millinery, jewellery, and frizzled false hair, or else—­far more horrible still—­social hermaphrodites, who storm the posts that have been assigned to men ever since that venerable and sacred time when ‘Adam delved and Eve span,’ and who, forsaking holy home haunts, wage war against nature on account of the mistake made in their sex, and clamour for the ‘hallowed inalienable right’ to jostle and be jostled at the polls; to brawl in the market place, and to rant on the rostrum, like a bevy of bedlamities.  Now when I begin to read, listen, and tell me frankly, whether when you both make up your minds to present me, one a sister, the other a daughter, you will select your wives from among quaint Evelyn’s almost obsolete type, or whether you will commit your name, affections, wardrobe, larder, pantry and poultry to a strong-minded female ‘scientist,’ who will neglect your socks and buttons, to ascertain exactly how many Vibriones and Bacteria float in a drop of fluid, and when you come home tired and very hungry, will comfort you, and nobly atone for the injury of an ill-cooked and worse-served dinner, by regaling your weary ears with her own ingenious