United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Women -- Social conditions -- Fiction
'Development.' While I desire that the basis of Regina's education
shall be sufficiently broad, liberal, and comprehensive, I intend to
be careful what doctrines are propounded; for unfortunately all who
sympathize with the atheism of Comte, have not his noble frankness,
and fail to print as he did on his title-page:
'_Reorganiser sans Dieu ni roi,
Par le culte systematique
de l'Humanite_.'"
"Oh, Peyton! what fearfully, selfishly long sentences you and
Douglass inflict upon each other, and upon me! The colons and
semicolons gather along the lines of conversation like an army of
martyrs, and to my stupidly weary ears that last, that final period,
was a most 'sweet boon'--a crowning blessing. If Regina's nightingale
soul is to be vexed by such disquisitions as those from which you
have been quoting, I must say it made a sorry bargain in exchanging
brown feathers for pink flesh, and would have had a better time
trilling madrigals in some hawthorn thicket or myrtle grove. I see
plainly I might as well carry my dear old Evelyn--fragrant with
mint and marjoram--back upstairs, and wrap it up in ancient
camphor-scented linen, and put it away tenderly to sleep its last
sleep in the venerable cedar chest, where my grandfather's huge
knee-buckles, and my great-grandmother's yellow brocaded silk-dress,
with its waist the length of my little finger, and the sleeves as
wide as a balloon. Gentlemen, permit me one parting paragraph,
before I write 'finis' on this matter of education, and 'hereafter
for ever hold my peace.' Be it distinctly understood, 'by these
presents,' that if that child Regina grows up a blue-stocking, or a
metempsychosist, a scientist or a freedom-shrieker, a professor of
physics or a practitioner of physic, judge of a court or mayor of a
city, biologist, sociologist, heathen or heretic, it will be no work
or wish of mine; for to each and all of these threatened, progressive
abominations, I, Elise Lindsay, do hold up clean hands, and cry,
Avaunt!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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