But, male sycophants, I want a word with you. Why do you object to our taking degrees, or going in for examinations in order to qualify ourselves for our duties in life? You need not speak out loud if you would rather not. Are you not just a little afraid that we might eclipse you? And it is not pleasant to be beaten by a woman, is it? And then you profess to think that we ought to be all housewives and cooks, and knitters of stockings, and sewers-on of our husbands’ buttons; but what if we have no husbands, no buttons to sew? And is it not a little selfish, my dear male sycophant, to wish [8] to keep us all to yourself? to attend upon the wants of the lords of creation, who often distinguish themselves so much in the domain of science?
Now, look me straight in the face (no shirking, sir!). Is it not jealousy—green-eyed, false-tongued jealousy—which saps your generous instincts, and makes you talk rubbish and nonsense about strains, and brains, and ambition, and the like? And if that is not hypocritical, I do not know what is.
Well, good-day to you, male sycophant! I really have not time to indulge myself in scolding you any more. You are a good creature, no doubt; and when you have shown us what you can do, and can estimate the capacity of the female brain, and take a common-sense view of things, we will recognise your privilege to speak; and when I am the presiding genius of Girtham College, I will grant you the use of our hall for the purpose of lecturing to us on ‘Women’s Rights,’ or, as you may prefer to entitle your discourse, ‘Men’s Wrongs.’
* * * * *
[9]
Oh, this is shameful! I really am very sorry. Here have I been wasting a good half-hour in dreaming, and slaying an imaginary enemy with envenomed words and frequent dabs of ink. If I cannot concentrate my mind more on these mathematical researches, I fear a dreadful ‘plough’ will harrow my feelings at the end of my sojourn in these halls of learning.
Concentration! How many of our words and ideas and thoughts are derived from that primal fount of all arts and sciences—mathematics! Here is one which owes its origin to the mathematically trained mind of some early philological professor, who had learnt to apply his scientific knowledge to the enrichment of his native tongue. He quoted to himself the words of the Roman poet:
‘Ego cur, acquirere pauca
Si possum, invideor, cum lingua Catonis et Ennî
Sermonem patrium ditaverit, et nova rerum
Nomina protulerit? Licuit, semperque licebit.’