that a spirit is diffused with it which is most opposite to that of humble reverence and steadfast hope, which the earnest love of knowledge fosters in the mind. It is then that men dwell much upon what they can do,- little upon what they can only admire or revere; that they are engrossed with what their science has taught them to handle and wield to their own purposes, and care little for the infinite beyond, which they cannot fathom or coin into gold. It is then that we find a hard, utilitarian spirit blind to every beauty, to every power of art or nature which cannot serve some material purpose; that civilization proceeds without an increase of true refinement, and men become more learned without becoming less sensual; not rising above their grosser nature to enjoy the fruits of knowledge, but dedicating the latter to the service of pleasure. And it is because such dangers beset us now, that we require to seek every safeguard against them, and to strive to the uttermost to spread abroad the spirit as well as the learning of the philosopher.

But to whom, in these days of breathless toil, of exciting, heart-wearying competition, can we look for aid in cultivating that more unworldly spirit? on whom can we call to labor in reviving purer aspirations in this iron age?-on whom so justly as on women, whose more refined nature and secluded position seem to place them more out of the reach of the contagion? Study bears no fruits to them, save those of mental improve. ment and delight; knowledge leads them to no gain, no proud distinctions among their fellow-creatures. Thus preserved from danger themselves, it well becomes them to be ever watchful to remind those who are exposed to greater temptations, of the real beauty and value of the treasure they possess ; and by the persuasive eloquence of example, to show forth the excellency and the ennobling influence of the pure love of knowledge, the handmaid of religion and philosophy, so that men, if tempted in the public places of the world to regard wisdom as a mere engine of advancement, may still recognize her in their homes as the daughter of Heaven.

This mission we so earnestly desire to see women undertake, is not one requiring learning or science; it need not alarm the

most humble or diffident, for love of knowledge is not taught, but inspired; it is a sentiment, and may be infused into the mind of a child, and should indeed be grafted there as soon as the opening powers become conscious that there is a world beyond that of physical wants, to which they may one day be enabled to soar. Let women, then, inspire their children with this ennobling affection, and they will thus acquit themselves of a great social duty; whatever influence they may exercise through other channels, this is their stronghold. Let a high appreciation of the fruits of knowledge, and the gifts of intellect by which those fruits are won, be shown to their sons in their daily conversation, and teaching, and pursuits, and they will do more than all the eloquence of philosophers to prevent those gifts being offered up on the altar of Mammon.

Beyond the hope of exercising such influence as this, there are other motives to urge women to cherish the love of knowledge, motives of personal benefit, which, although second in generous minds to social considerations, are powerful and important. All who will dispassionately consider woman's social position, its trials and its privations, the sufferings of the heart, when the whole of life is comprised in the affections, the sufferings from dependence, from confined activity, and from helplessness as regards her own destiny, - must be aware of the value of such a new spring of mental energy as love of knowledge would create.

The absence of all the stirring motives which animate man's existence is often a great trial to the active-minded of the other sex, but it is, perhaps, a still more dangerous trial to the indolent, because it chimes in with their ruling fault, and they fall gladly into the snare, allowing characters and powers which exertion might have developed and fitted for far different things to sink into placid inanity. To both these classes of minds, the incentive of the love of knowledge would be new life; the latter would be stirred to exertion, the former soothed and tranquillized, by finding one career of activity opened to them, one great object brought within their aim, without the interference of any of those obstacles which close every path of worldly

ambition. Even the suffering from crushed or wounded affections, which is so often the lot of woman, may receive balm from this pure and precious spring. Not that knowledge can give happiness, or harden against the touch of sorrow, or fill an aching and desolate heart; these things are beyond its power, for the life of the heart and of the intellect are different, and the food of the one cannot nourish the other; but the soothing and elevating influence of the love of knowledge may steal over the wounded spirit, and win the thoughts from self, from regret, or anxious brooding, and for a time bear them away to another region, where day by day they may linger a little longer, till they love at length to turn from the desolation within to what has brought intervals, at least, of forgetfulness and peace. Perhaps this heavy suffering has to be borne in the midst of wearing cares and duties, which require the face to wear a smile, and the spirit to seem cheerful, yet there is no external resource to come in aid, no flying from home and its gloom to recreate the weary mind, no intercourse, even on business, with others to turn the current of thought; it is in solitude that woman must wrestle with her own feelings, and prevent the struggle ruffling her temper, or making her less ready to sympathize with others. In such a case, the value of that mental refuge which the love of knowledge affords is greater still; it is a sanctuary opened to her, where evil shall not follow, and whence she will surely return refreshed and invigorated. The nature of this influence on the mind is in some respects quite different from that of religious contemplation. Religion truly affords the only stay and consolation in sorrow, but it appeals too much to the feelings, its hopes lead too directly away from this world, with its busy cares and toil, to have the same effect as mental labor in rousing the mind to activity. Weariness of life, that longs for the quiet grave, may be fed by religious reflection, however resigned we may be to wait the time appointed; but intellectual exercise, in which emotion and self-contemplation find no place, gradually restores a more healthy tone of mind, and makes us more fit for the struggle which must be carried on. The calm of those dispas

sionate pursuits creeps into the mind, and we are able to bear our necessary burden with less heaviness. The many instances of persons given up wholly to religious impressions after great sorrow, who have sunk into religious melancholy, bear out this remark.

In very early life dependence is not felt as a trial; ignorance of the world, timidity, and the host of new pleasures that open upon a young girl just entering into society, make her perfectly. satisfied with her lot, which then indeed bears a bright and happy aspect; and if an early marriage close the first act of the drama, she feels little, probably, for many years, of some of the evils we have mentioned. But if, on the other hand, she does not marry young, they speedily make themselves felt; the early gloss of pleasure soon wears off; heart and mind yearn for something beyond, which her actual existence cannot give; she has no aim for exertion, and the obstacles of conventional laws begin to chafe and irritate. The present offers no active duties, no engrossing interests, to prevent the thoughts dwelling upon. the future, and that future is shrouded in more than the darkness which belongs to every mortal fate, for no possible exertion of her own can shape her destiny therein. A new feeling unexpectedly kindled may at any moment cause her actual course of life to be interrupted, and exchanged for one wholly different, while she cannot prepare for that future station which is wholly concealed from her view. Poor, she may become rich; brought up in the lap of luxury, she may be reduced to comparative penury; full of warm sympathies and ardent affections, she may live in solitude; fond of society, and capable of enjoying or even adorning the best, she may be deprived of every social pleasure; with energy and talents to have won admiration and fame, she may live in obscurity, unknown, and seemingly useless; and all this without any fault or interference of her own, without any power to help herself or to exert more than a negative influence over her destiny. Little do they know of the human heart, of its weakness or its strength, who think this long and helpless uncertainty is no trial, that it brings with it no

danger of embittering the spirit, and deadening the very springs of healthy existence !

Nor is it strange that this trial should fall heaviest upon those who best deserve a brighter lot; those to whom activity is congenial, and whose character or powers might, under better circumstances, have commanded respect and admiration, or, what is far dearer still, affection and esteem. It may also, no doubt, account for much of that devotion to amusement, and that craving for excitement, which fritter away the energies of youth, and often, also, for the eagerness for marriage, which produces such pernicious consequences when made a ruling object of life. Even the frequently failing health of young women may, probably, in many cases, be ascribed to the same cause; an unnatural state of mind acts upon a sensitive nervous system, and this cannot continue long without producing evil, which would have been unknown in a state of healthful activity.

This subject has been touched on before; but it is so important, and so commonly overlooked, that we will not apologize for the seeming repetition. It should be remembered that there can be happiness only where the heart is interested, where the faculties are active, where the mind is engrossed and pressing forward towards some desired object. In all schemes of bliss these wants are provided for more or less, truly or falsely; but how then are these wants satisfied in the life of frivolous amusement, of alternate inaction and feverish gayety, which is led by most young unmarried women? It is little wonder if many give it up in despair, and rush into inconsiderate mar riages (hopeless of marrying as their own hearts would dictate), or gradually yield to bitterness and discontent. It were more strange, we had almost said more sad, if human being, any endowed like the rest of God's children, could long endure such a life in content. What, then, is the remedy? We can think of none more effectual than cultivating an earnest love of knowledge, which never lacks a sphere of activity, which fills with interest and objects for exertion the life, the external circumstances of which are most insipid. Intellectual activity will prevent women in this position draining the full draught of en