He hated every form of publicity for the women of his class. If he had his
way their names, much less photographs, should never appear in the public
press. Society should be sacrosanct. Its traditions should be handed on,
not lowered....Charity boards and settlement work, perhaps, but no further
exposure to the vulgar gaze...he was glad she had never gone in for the
last.
Civilization would be meaningless without that small class at the top that
proved what Earth could accomplish in the way of breeding, the refinements
of life, the beauty of distinction, in making an art of leisure, of
pleasure--quite as much an art as writing books or painting pictures.
If the men in the younger nations had to work, at least they were able to
prove to the older that the exquisite creatures they bred and protected
were second to none on this planet, at least.
If women had genius that was another question. Let them give it to the
world, by all means. That was their personal gift to civilization....He was
not bigoted like some men, even young men, who thought it a disgrace for a
lady publicly to transfer herself to the artistic plane and compete with
men for laurels....But when it came to stripping off the delicate badges
that only the higher civilization could confer, and struggling tooth and
nail with the mob for no reason whatever--it was disloyal, ungrateful and
monstrous.
He was no snob.
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