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Would you believe that Mrs. Hill and I went to hear Mary Wollstonecraft read excerpts from her treatise on the education of women last autumn?

It was our great secret expedition. Thomas, you may tease that I am turning into a blue stocking in my old age, but I find that I agree with much of what she says on the education of females.

We are not mentally feeble by nature… or rather, there is just as great a range in intelligence among beings of my gender as those of yours (I’m sure we can both think of examples at the extremes!).

It saddens me to see young ladies raised to believe their value lies in their figure, their ability to embroider cushions and decorate screens, and perhaps worst, the ability to carry on hours of conversation without saying anything of substance!

A few months ago, I attended a dinner party at the home of one of my husband’s business associates.

After dinner, while the men were at their port and cigars, I began talking with the second daughter of the house—a pretty young lady of about 17 or 18, with the dowry and connections to expect a reasonably excellent match in her future.

She had recently read a play that I had seen and we began to discuss it.

In her enthusiasm, she dropped that proper facade for a few minutes and let me see her brilliance.

She cited lines, dissected subtext, and identified allusions to other works that I had completely missed.

She would have easily held her own with even you, I believe!

But it only lasted for a few minutes. One sharp look from her mother and the light in her eyes was shuttered.

It was as though a life-size talking doll had taken her place.

The play was “lovely” and then she began talking about whether the weather would be fair for the Creightons’ garden party later that week.

Ever the proper and ladylike topic, but, oh Thomas, that such intelligence and wit should be so suppressed!

William is an obedient little boy but I will admit to you that I have wished for a baby girl, although I fear it is not to be.

Dearest Thomas, if you should be so lucky as to have a daughter, teach her to value herself—her intelligence, her character, her abilities.

Educate her! I have heard so many young brides dismissed by their husbands as stupid because they could not keep the housekeeping accounts without assistance.

Yet when ever were they supposed to practice their arithmetic when throughout their girlhood they were told that mathematics is too much for the female mind!

Gentlemen (and you are as guilty of this as any, my dear Thomas) complain of women’s silliness, that all we talk about is lace and bonnets and balls, and yet is that not what we are encouraged to focus on from a young age, really from birth?

Dear Thomas, I did not intend this letter to be any sort of sermon, but the thoughts that have been stewing in my mind appear to be flooding out of my pen.

I loved our father as you did, but with all my heart I believe you have the potential to become a greater master, husband, and father.

I hope you have many children, and you invite their laughter into your book room, as you call it (even the girls—perhaps one of them will even learn to beat you at chess!) There will be sorrows and disappointments in your life, much as your big sister might wish she could protect you from them.

Do not let these become the focus of your life.

I see in you a wit that could descend into cynicism and misanthropy if you allow yourself to focus on the ill in life.

Remember the joys, the beauties, the amusements, however inconsequential they might seem at the time.

Perhaps that old chestnut says it best—Think of the past only as it brings you pleasure. You will say that these are very deep thoughts for your ever practical big sister! Always remember that you are in my heart.

Your loving sister,

Jane Bennet Collins

P.S. My dear brother—if this illness takes me to our Lord, I have asked Mrs. Hill to send you this letter, maudlin as it is.

As you have probably guessed from my letters, Hill has been my closest confidant and steadiest supporter throughout my years in London.

It is nothing improper—she keeps her manner as befitting a servant and respects me as mistress, but I do not think I could ever have had a dearer friend.

I have left her a letter of recommendation written in as glowing terms as I could make it, but I have just recalled a thought I had after reading your last letter.

You mentioned that dear Mrs. Wagner’s arthritis was worsening rapidly and you might be looking for a new housekeeper soon, particularly as your marriage will necessitate a livelier household than Longbourn has seen in many years.

In the case that I no longer have need of her, I would gladly recommend Mrs. Hill to you.

She has a story which is hers to tell, but I am certain that you would find no more respectable, capable, and loyal servant should you search across England.

-jbc

After reading his sister’s letter for the first time, Mr. Bennet set it down carefully on his desk, lifted his shaking hands to his face and wept as he had not since he was a young lad.

Some twenty years later, the harsh truths relayed in a letter to his daughter from a young gentleman he had barely noticed reminded Mr. Bennet of his sister’s final letter.

Unlocking a hidden strongbox that contained all his most important papers, Thomas retrieved the yellowed pages and carefully unfolded them.

Reading his sister’s script again brought tears to his eyes but also reminded him of the ideals that he had striven for as a younger man, ideals which his sister had suggested he might attain as a master, husband, and father.