“Oh, to be alone! To escape from the work, the play, The talking every day; To escape from all I have done, And all that remains to do. To escape—yes, even from you, My only love, and be Alone and free. Could I only stand Between gray moor and gray sky, Where the winds and the plovers cry, And no man is at hand; And feel the free wind blow On my rain-wet face, and know I am free—not yours, but my own— Free, and alone! For the soft firelight And the home of your heart, my dear, They hurt, being always here. I want to stand upright, And to cool my eyes in the air, And to see how my back can bear Burdens—to try, to know, To learn, to grow! I am only you! I am yours, part of you, your wife! And I have no other life. I cannot think, cannot do; I cannot breathe, cannot see; There is ‘us,’ but there is not ‘me’:— And worst, at your kiss I grow Contented so.” 7.—“_From woman slave can come but menial race_,” “If the result to the family is such as I have described what must be the effect on the race? A slow but sure degeneration. And has this not taken place? Is the race now such as you read of it in early times before the Mogul invasion brought the Zenana and child-marriage in its train? Where are the Rajputs and the Mahrattas with their manly exercises and their mental vigour? For centuries you have been children of children, and there is no surer way of becoming servants of servants.”—Mrs. Pechey Phipson, M.D. (“Address to the Hindoos,” p. 9). _Id._... “If children are to be educated to understand the true principle of patriotism, their mother must be a patriot.”—Mary Wollstonecraft (Letter to Talleyrand). 8.—“_The mother free confers her freedom and her grace_.” “The child follows the blood of the mother; the son of a slave or serf father and a noble woman is noble. ‘It is the womb which dyes the child,’ they say in their primitive language.... ‘The woman bears the clan,’ say the Wyandot Indians, just as our ancestors said ‘The womb dyes the child!’”—Letourneau (“The Evolution of Marriage,” Ch. XI., XVII.). XLI. 1.—“_By her the progress of our future kind_.” “What may man be? Who can tell? But what may woman be To have power over man from cradle to corruptible grave?” —William Blake (“Jerusalem”).