absolute pettiness, the dense dulness, of woman's life, breaks on the
disenchanted devotee. His deity is without occupation, without
thought, without resources. He has a faint faith in her finer
sensibility, in her poetic nature: he fetches his Tennyson from his
carpet-bag, and wastes 'In Memoriam' on a critic who pronounces it
pretty!"

In cases of this kind, the half-joy is strikingly apparent. We see
that a husband possessing culture is likely to be lonesome among his
poets and his poetry, his works of reform, and his lofty ideas,
unless--she is there too.

If it be said that learned women are prone to think lightly of home
comforts and home duties, to despise physical labor, to look down on
the ignorant, let us hasten to reply that learning is not culture, and
that we want not learned mothers, but enlightened mothers, wisely
educated mothers. And let us steadfastly and perseveringly assert that
enlightenment and a wise education are essential to the accomplishment
of the mother's mission. When the housefather feels the truth of this,
then shall we see him bringing home every publication he can lay his
hands on which treats intelligently of mental, moral, or physical
training. Then shall we hear him saying to the house-mother, "Cease, I
pray you, this ever-lasting toil. Read, study, rest. With your solemn
responsibilities, it is madness thus to spend yourself, thus to waste
yourself." In his home shall the true essentials assume that position
which is theirs by right, and certain occupations connected with that
clamorous square inch of surface in the upper part of the mouth shall
receive only their due share of attention. For in one way or another,
either by lessening the work or by hiring workers, the mother shall
have her leisure.