“Not at all. I would strengthen them. As it is, how many children are educated away from their homes, in convents, boarding-schools, Lycees? Do they love their parents any the less? No; the more, for they do not see so much that is weak and contemptible in them. But if mothers wish, let them enter the State nurseries and nurse their own little ones—not according to our bungling, ignorant methods, but according to the methods of science. Then the youngsters would not be exposed to the anxieties that darken the average home; they would not pick up and perpetuate the vulgarities of their parents. The child of the pauper would be just as refined as the child of the peer. Think what that would mean; a breaking down of all class distinction. The word ‘gentleman’ would come into its true significance, and in a few years we would have a new race, with new ideals, new ambitions, new ways of thought.”
“You would educate them, too?”
“They would have all the education they wanted, but not in the present way. They would be taught to examine, to reason: not to accept blindly the beliefs of their fathers; to sift, to analyse: not to let themselves be crammed with ready-made ideas. I would not try to turn them all out in one mould, as the pedagogues do; I would try to develop their originality. Question and challenge would be their attitude. I would establish ‘Chairs of Inquiry.’ I would teach them that the circle is not round, and that two and two do not make four. Up the great stairway of Truth would I lead them, so that standing on its highest point they might hew still higher steps in the rock of knowledge.”
“And how would you pay for this national nursery nonsense?”
“By making money uninheritable. I believe the hope of the future, the triumph of democracy, the very salvation of the race lies in the State education of the children. The greatest enemies of the young are the old. Instead of the child honouring the parents, the parents should honour the child; for if there’s any virtue in evolution the son ought to be an improvement on the father.”
In the growing darkness I could see the bowl of his pipe glow and fade. I was not paying much attention to what he was saying, but there in that scented pine-gloom it was a pleasure to listen to that rich, vibrating voice.
“I want to be fair, I want to be just, I want to see every man do his share of the world’s work. Let him earn as much money as he likes, but at his death let it revert to the State for the general education of the race, not to pamper and spoil his own particular progeny. Let the girls be taught the glory of motherhood, and the men military duty; then, fully equipped for the struggle, let all go forth. How simple it is! How sane! Yet we’re blind, so blind.”
“Solonge is sleeping in my arms,” said Anastasia. “I sink it is time we must go home.”
CHAPTER X
THE LIFE AND DEATH OF DOROTHY MADDEN
The time was drawing near when I would become a father. Yet as the hour of my trial approached I realised that I was glad, glad. I hoped it would be a girl; nay, I was sure it would be a girl; a little, dark, old-fashioned girl, whose hand I would hold on my rambles, and whose innocent mind I would watch unfolding like a flower. And I would call her ... yes, I would call her Dorothy.