But is this change in itself really necessary?  Is it not merely another result of our own prejudices?  By making good women the slaves of dismal duties, we have deprived marriage of its charm for men.  Can we wonder that the gloomy silence they find at home drives them elsewhere, or inspires little desire to enter a state which offers so few attractions?  Christianity, by exaggerating every duty, has made our duties impracticable and useless; by forbidding singing, dancing, and amusements of every kind, it renders women sulky, fault-finding, and intolerable at home.  There is no religion which imposes such strict duties upon married life, and none in which such a sacred engagement is so often profaned.  Such pains has been taken to prevent wives being amiable, that their husbands have become indifferent to them.  This should not be, I grant you, but it will be, since husbands are but men.  I would have an English maiden cultivate the talents which will delight her husband as zealously as the Circassian cultivates the accomplishments of an Eastern harem.  Husbands, you say, care little for such accomplishments.  So I should suppose, when they are employed, not for the husband, but to attract the young rakes who dishonour the home.  But imagine a virtuous and charming wife, adorned with such accomplishments and devoting them to her husband’s amusement; will she not add to his happiness?  When he leaves his office worn out with the day’s work, will she not prevent him seeking recreation elsewhere?  Have we not all beheld happy families gathered together, each contributing to the general amusement?  Are not the confidence and familiarity thus established, the innocence and the charm of the pleasures thus enjoyed, more than enough to make up for the more riotous pleasures of public entertainments?

Pleasant accomplishments have been made too formal an affair of rules and precepts, so that young people find them very tedious Instead of a mere amusement or a merry game as they ought to be.  Nothing can be more absurd than an elderly singing or dancing master frowning upon young people, whose one desire is to laugh, and adopting a more pedantic and magisterial manner in teaching his frivolous art than if he were teaching the catechism.  Take the case of singing; does this art depend on reading music; cannot the voice be made true and flexible, can we not learn to sing with taste and even to play an accompaniment without knowing a note?  Does the same kind of singing suit all voices alike?  Is the same method adapted to every mind?  You will never persuade me that the same attitudes, the same steps, the same movements, the same gestures, the same dances will suit a lively little brunette and a tall fair maiden with languishing eyes.  So when I find a master giving the same lessons to all his pupils I say, “He has his own routine, but he knows nothing of his art!”