intellect to discern, as a soul to live freely and unimpeded, to
unfold such powers as were given her when we left our common home. If
fewer talents were given her, yet if allowed the free and full
employment of these, so that she may render back to the giver his own
with usury, she will not complain; nay, I dare to say she will bless
and rejoice in her earthly birth-place, her earthly lot. Let us
consider what obstructions impede this good era, and what signs give
reason to hope that it draws near.

I was talking on this subject with Miranda, a woman, who, if any in
the world could, might speak without heat and bitterness of the
position of her sex. Her father was a man who cherished no sentimental
reverence for Woman, but a firm belief in the equality of the sexes.
She was his eldest child, and came to him at an age when he needed a
companion. From the time she could speak and go alone, he addressed
her not as a plaything, but as a living mind. Among the few verses he
ever wrote was a copy addressed to this child, when the first locks
were cut from her head; and the reverence expressed on this occasion
for that cherished head, he never belied. It was to him the temple of
immortal intellect. He respected his child, however, too much to be an
indulgent parent. He called on her for clear judgment, for courage,
for honor and fidelity; in short, for such virtues as he knew. In so
far as he possessed the keys to the wonders of this universe, he
allowed free use of them to her, and, by the incentive of a high
expectation, he forbade, so far as possible, that she should let the
privilege lie idle.

Thus this child was early led to feel herself a child of the spirit.
She took her place easily, not only in the world of organized being,
but in the world of mind. A dignified sense of self-dependence was