Not even the present conversation, so far as
it has gone, altogether proves your point."
"I am not saying it is the case among intelligent thinkers,"
explained the Philosopher, "but in popular literature the convention
still lingers. To woman's face no man cares to protest against it;
and woman, to her harm, has come to accept it as a truism. 'What
are little girls made of? Sugar and spice and all that's nice.' In
more or less varied form the idea has entered into her blood,
shutting out from her hope of improvement. The girl is discouraged
from asking herself the occasionally needful question: Am I on the
way to becoming a sound, useful member of society? Or am I in
danger of degenerating into a vain, selfish, lazy piece of good-for-
nothing rubbish? She is quite content so long as she can detect in
herself no tendency to male vices, forgetful that there are also
feminine vices. Woman is the spoilt child of the age. No one tells
her of her faults. The World with its thousand voices flatters her.
Sulks, bad temper, and pig-headed obstinacy are translated as
'pretty Fanny's wilful ways.
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