share in "the higher education of women," by making you read more
books, and do more sums, and pass examinations, and stoop over
desks at night after stooping over some other employment all day;
and to teach you Latin, and even Greek!

Well, we will gladly teach you Greek, if you learn thereby to read
the history of Nausicaa of old, and what manner of maiden she was,
and what was her education. You will admire her, doubtless. But
do not let your admiration limit itself to drawing a meagre half-
mediaevalised design of her--as she never looked. Copy in your
own person; and even if you do not descend as low--or rise as
high--as washing the household clothes, at least learn to play at
ball; and sing, in the open air and sunshine, not in theatres and
concert-rooms by gaslight; and take decent care of your own
health; and dress not like a "Parisienne"--nor, of course, like
Nausicaa of old, for that is to ask too much: --but somewhat more
like an average Highland lassie; and try to look like her, and be
like her, of whom Wordsworth sang:


A mien and face
In which full plainly I can trace
Benignity, and home-bred sense,
Ripening in perfect innocence.
Here scattered, like a random seed,
Remote from men, thou dost not need
The embarrassed look of shy distress
And maidenly shamefacedness.
Thou wear'st upon thy forehead clear
The freedom of a mountaineer.