I lived down jokes, and went into the class
with the young men, kept up with them, and continued the study until
they went to college, and beyond, until a call from one of our Female
Seminaries for a teacher "who had been educated by a man," broke up a
course that I would have been glad to have extended through college.
And that without "wishing to be a man," without wishing for anything
but to gratify a love of study, which was just as natural to me as to
those I had thus far studied with. The daily hours of school were more
than in our High schools, and we had recitations always, as usual, up to
twelve o'clock on Saturday, while the number of recitations a student
was allowed to have, nearly always exceeded the number allowed in our
High schools. I have never in any schools known more thorough and
persistent study than was performed by students in these academies, and
the standing of the girls was invariably as high as that of the young
men. Such recitations as we had in History, Moral and Intellectual
Philosophy, were like a life elixir; we went from them, not wearied,
exhausted, but rested, exhilarated. We had gained bodily strength as
well as mental clearness and force. They had infused life.
And where are the girls, who, forty, even fifty years ago, made trial of
"persistent" study, of the dangerous system of co-education in the
Academies? There has surely been sufficient time to test its physical
effects on them. Where are they? Scattered throughout the world, a host
of noble women, many of them doing brain-work still.
If my limits would permit, I could give the history of scores of them
who were educated mostly in those academies, and who have continued
study and brain-work ever since--who have borne children, reared
families, and are yet strong and healthy, far beyond the average of
women who have lived in ease and idleness--quite as healthy as women
devoted alone to domestic cares.
The invalids on a long list of old associates which Dr. Clarke's book
has led me to call to mind and look up, are, I have been surprised to
find, among those who did "run well for a time," but they have turned
back and ceased mental labor. Some have fallen into worldliness and a
fashionable life, and are broken down under it. Others, restricted to
some narrow creed of thought, have not dared to open their eyes to the
light of any new day that is dawning on the world, until, ceasing to
grow, they have, according to a law of natu
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