little idea how gratifying it is to the children of the household to have her interested in matters outside of the kitchen and the mending-basket.

A twilight walk, a stroll in the woods, a picnic, a berrying excursion, with "mother" for the presiding genius of the occasion, makes such a day one to be marked with a white stone, and remembered forever afterwards.

The writer of this, long since past her youth, has before her mind's eye, at this moment, a scene which occurred in her very earliest years-a simple rustic picture, but which stands out in far brighter colors than any worldly pageant she has ever seen since. It was a "strawberry festival," such as no "city hall" ever witnessed, but one in which her mother, her little sick sister, and herself participated. The plat of wild strawberries, not far from the house, had been discovered by the father's eye, and pointed out to us at dinner time. For the first and last time, the pale, helpless child, the careworn, yet smiling mother, and the hoydenish little girl went out together into the green fields and gathered the luscious fruit. Never was sunshine so bright as that which encircled with a halo of light the tender mother, as she filled with ripe berries the lap of the laughing infant, who clapped her hands and pulled buttercups and clover blossoms, with a sweet gaiety seldom seen on her pain-marked features. The little child soon left us, and the mother, long years afterwards, laid down the burden of life, and "went home" also; but she who is left alone of that happy trio looks back to that summer's day as one of the happiest of her life.

A bright boy of twelve came to spend a few months with a friend of his mother's. The lady he visited was a lover of nature, and, though it was early spring, and patches of snow were scattered over the fields and through the woods, it did not hinder the two from cheery walks in the virgin mornings over the drifts, or around them, on the dry crisp grass. They gathered red-cap moss and scarlet partridge berries, and carried home basketfuls of white pine cones, just to smell their spicy breath and see them burn at nightfall in the open stove, when every leaf of the brown unfolded bur turned into a point of brilliant flame, lit up the sitting-room with a waving, ruddy glare. The child enjoyed the lively chat of his elderly companion extremely, and one day, when they had had a particularly pleasant ramble, he threw himself down on a mossy rock, looked half admiringly and half regretfully at the blue above and the sombre brown beneath him, and said, with a pathetic emphasis that spoke volumes, "Oh, how I wish my mother would ever walk in the woods with me!" The boy's passionate cry was but the unspoken, often unconscious wish of every childish heartthe vague yearning for sympathy, for knowledge, for variety, for something more elevating and satisfactory than the mere mechanical routine of daily life that does not lift its gaze from the "muck rake to behold the crown." Happy is it for any child when he meets, in the maternal guardian of his youthful years, a loving and intelligent response to these appeals from his higher nature. If mothers and older sisters realized how much the after character of their sons and brothers depended on the home influences brought to bear on their youth, they would not feel that they had done all that belonged to them when they had presented them weekly with immaculate shirt collars, or spread unexceptional tables for their daily repasts. These are the "tithes of anise, mint, and cummin" which they ought to render, in tolerable form, perhaps, but for which they should not neglect the "weightier matters" of household love and mutual sympathy and consideration. The very restlessness which makes these incipient men sometimes troublesome, is but the native energy of character that, properly directed, shall make them pioneers in every noble undertaking. The inquisitiveness so irksome to thoughtless older minds is but the eagerness of the newly awakened love to penetrate into the mysteries by which it is everywhere surrounded; and guilty of no small crime is that mother who turns her child aside from her own teachings and companionship to seek the information he covets in vicious and ignorant, or, at best, doubtful associates. The broad, generous na

ture of the boy that finds outlet and encouragement in a well-ordered and intelligent home, where his crude tastes are kindly directed, his wishes duly regarded, and his thirst for knowledge gratified, will very rarely prove recreant to such judicious training; while the same noble elements in another, thwarted and trampled upon, become the incentives to deeds of villany and crime. Far better would it be for mothers to throw aside some of the needless adornments of dress, and the exquisite niceties of housekeeping, or even to cater somewhat less fully to the masculine appetite, (quite likely enough to become epicurean without any early pampering,) and, with the time thus gained, meet the boys on their own ground. All the better for both parties is it if it happens to be the croquet, the nutting, the hunting, or the fishing ground. If she has been properly taught herself, the mother can make any of these the school of good manners, of natural history, and general information. Botany and mineralogy are "at home" in the woods and fields; but if we do not know the sciences technically, or do not care to take them from the schools to which they have been transplanted, there are a thousand things to be learned by observation merely, which shall profitably occupy the youthful mind, to whose insatiable curiosity nothing comes amiss.

How many ladies of professed and real intelligence have any idea of the variety and beauty of the wild wood and field flowers that bloom, almost unnoticed, from April till November? or of the different kinds of forest trees-the peculiar texture and color of the bark and shape of leaf belonging to each; and the different classes under the same name, as, for instance, the numerous family of maples and the tribe of birches? How many know the various haunts of birds peculiar to their region? the distinctive plumage of each species, their time of migration and return, the note belonging to each, and the manner of building their nests? How many mark intelligently the varying mosses that carpet the rocks, or cushion with rare velvet the trunk of the fallen tree? How many see, with appreciative eye, the countless shades of green that crown the spring with beauty, or note the changing hues of the mountains and clouds, and the wonderful effect of light and shade on landscapes? How many ever sat, like Thoreau, "so still among the solitudes that the shy creatures of the woods supposed them stu ps," and went on with their work or their play, with charming frankness and simplicity? And yet a practical knowledge of all these things can be gained, along with the children, in those excursions in the open air which every woman's health and spirits require her to take daily. Nothing has been said directly as to the ill effect on the nerves, and, through them, on the spirits and temper, which a want of wholesome air brings to care-worn females; but the single speech of a lively neighbor of mine, last summer, sets this part of the subject in its true light at once. I had not seen her out for a week, and supposed her either sick or away from home, when she drove up to my gate one morning, with all her children, in the carriage, and stopped to exchange salutations. She really looked less bright and blooming than usual, and I said, "You have been ill." "There it is again," exclaimed she, laughing; "everybody sees the want of oxygen in my blood. The truth is, I have been sewing steadily for a week upon the children's dresses, and have not allowed myself a breath of the fresh air which I have always deemed quite essential to my health, and on which I am now convinced that my good nature depends entirely. At the end of three days of unbroken sedentary employment I begin always to falter, and can hardly eat or sleep; but on this occasion I held on to my work, and finished article after article, till my head was in such a whirl I could hardly count the garments as. I laid them away. But yesterday I became desperate; I scolded poor Bridget, for some slight mistake, till she looked at me in unutterable amazement; I ordered every child out of the house, even baby Benny here, because I could not bear the sound of a footfall within it; and when my husband came home at night, and told me I looked really ill and nervous, 'it was the last feather that broke the camel's back'-I was sure it was only a courteous way of saying I

looked cross and ugly, and I burst into a fit of inconsolable sobbing, and went to bed, like a naughty child, at eight o'clock. This morning I locked up the unfinished pile of sewing. We have the dinner basket back there in the carriage, and are off for the woods. The children say they are in pursuit of fun, but I am after oxygen."

A word as to the spiritual influence of agriculture, and this too protracted paper shall be closed. If it be true that "the undevout astronomer is mad," what shall be said of the husbandman who, receiving his daily bread from the very hand of God, with the intervention of scarcely any secondary causes, is yet so stupid'and hard of heart as to refuse gratefully to acknowledge his power and beneficence? . In its primary sense of tilling the earth for the necessary food of man, or in its broader meaning as including horticulture, floriculture, &c., it differs from every other occupation on earth. As it was the sole employment of our first parents in their state of innocence, when God came down and talked familiarly with them as man with man, so now the culture of the soil brings us into closer communion with the Author of all good than any other occupation can possibly do. Mechanics and artisans of all degrees work on materials already furnished to their hand, and elaborate their designs with actual, tangible stock, dug from the earth, collected from field and forest, brought up from the mighty deep, or drawn, like electricity, from the sky. The farmer or gardener, on the contrary, holds in his hand a tiny seed, a thing, apparently, of utter insignificance; and he seemingly values it so lightly that he casts it into the blackened earth at his feet. But now behold a mystery! This man so doing is working hand to hand with God, doing his small part in the ever new work of vegetable creation. The almost invisible speck of matter, so seemingly lost in earth, is only the slender germ dropped from the reverent hand of man into the fruitful palm of God; and from this life-giving death it comes forth a "lily of the valley arrayed as was never Solomon in all his glory," or a vine that "shall make glad the heart of man," or a cedar that shall be the glory of Lebanon. Not planned and put together by the "cunning device of men's hands," as they build a temple-tier after tier of brick or stone-but wrought from invisible, intangible gases and elements gathered from the earth, air, and water-diminishing by no iota the original constituents from whence they sprang-spreading into forms of inimitable beauty, and standing, like the new earth, a miraculous creation, and worthy to be pronounced "very good." Who shall contemn such glorious labor as this? Who shall not rather rejoice to fulfil his allotted sphere in such copartnership, and deem it honor enough to be a co-worker with the Eternal?

WOMEN IN PARIS.-That the readers of the above essay may note the difference between this and foreign countries, however enlightened, in the courtesy shown to women, and see the drudgery to which the majority are doomed, the following quotation from "Carleton" (Mr. Coffin) is made. He is describing the great market of St. Eustach: "It is an immense structure-a great iron shed or sheds, covering two squares; women at all the stalls-burley, red-faced, wielding cleavers, cutting up sides of beef; fish-women, crying in shrill voice the excellence of their sole and salmon; fruit-women; sellers of vegetables, and pretty girls with flowers for sale, beseeching you with such grace that you are the owner of a boquet before you know it.

There goes a woman with a basket of potatoes upon her head; another with a big tub filled with meat. There comes one with a sack on her back filled with baskets; another trips along with a yoke on her neck bearing two pails of buttermilk. She is certainly under the yoke, and so are they all. No respect is paid to public places. Gentlemen puff away at their cigars without deference to the presence of a lady, no matter how well dressed or how well behaved. No Frenchman resigns his seat to a woman. He may bow very low and do anything for Lady So-and-so, but for a woman he may meet in public, never!"

EDUCATION OF FARMERS' DAUGHTERS.

BY MISS L. C. DODGE, NASHUA, NEW HAMPSHIRE.

IT is quite too late to question the propriety or the necessity of female education. Under a government founded upon universal intelligence, few could claim for the daughters of the people a less varied training than for the sons, however it might differ in particulars to suit the duties and destinies of the two sexes. Our countrymen are disposed to do full justice to the girls in their distribution of educational facilities; indeed, in the older States and in the most cultivated districts the daughters are permitted to enjoy school opportunities to which their brothers are strangers. It is at once admitted that the importance of female education is generally appreciated. The question now is, Is it all it should be, and can it be improved?

To ask such a question is to answer it. With the evidence of progress in mental culture in every phase of human society and in every corner of the world of civilization, we may be assured that the daughters of free America will not remain in blissful satisfaction with the attainments of the present.

Education in Europe is becoming more popularized and practical, and the improvement is liberating and equalizing the slaves of caste and ignorance, and its ameliorating influence is felt upon despotic governments and their haughty rulers.

If it could seriously be said in England, in the days of Sidney Smith, that "it is not easy to imagine that there can be any just cause why a woman of forty should be more ignorant than a boy of twelve years of age," such an insinuation would now certainly excite the derisive smiles of English women and the indignation even of the most self-satisfied cockney.

It is said, too, and shown from public records of France, that the last half century has wrought a wonderful improvement in the average educational condition of that country. At a low ebb among the working masses fifty years ago, and still far from the elevation it should attain, female education in France has wonderfully advanced and is still progressive.

Thirty-five years ago, in the primary schools of that empire, there were ten boys to every six girls. Since that period the number of children attending school has doubled, and the proportion of girls has increased from six-tenths to seven-tenths, as compared with the attendance of boys. Then forty-five per cent. of males from five to twelve years of age were not in any schools; now but twenty-one per cent. of the same class are absent. In 1836 sixty per cent. of girls between seven and thirteen years were not under any school instruction; in 1857 the percentage was reduced to twenty-three.

In other countries similar progress has been developed; and everywhere, as the general improvement keeps its equal pace, female education and disenthrallment advance with far more rapid strides.

NATIONAL IDEAS IN EDUCATION.

But in this republic is found the highest development of popular education, of both sexes and all stations in life and grades of wealth, and in its distribution it is more nearly equal than are individuals in social rank and other artificial distinctions. This superiority is due to the fact that it is distinctively American, in accordance with the republican idea and a part of its development; and as our

government is perfected, and freedom and equality are universally assured, education will have a wider and higher range, and female culture will continue to take a prominent and influential part in the triumphs of educational progress.

The cardinal principle of our government being equality in the exercise of natural rights, education must become more nearly universal than in any existing foreign government. Neither sex nor race, color nor class, is regarded in conferring opportunities for culture, though constant discrimination should be made, and special means employed, to fit each individual for the sphere or the vocation in life to be filled. The world seems to be just beginning to learn practically that minds are not fashioned from the same pattern, like the latest modes from Paris, and that education should be general and uniform for all, so far as it may be necessary for social harmony and a proper mental balance, and specific to suit the peculiar wants of the individual. This twofold character is now more realized than ever before, and in this country, as it is and as it can be in no other; and while the foundation of present culture is becoming broader, and its superstructure higher and more substantial, its adaptation to anticipated uses and employments is more marked, and its outward style and finish more in keeping with its peculiar location and surroundings.

As this country is continental in extent, no "pent-up Utica" should contract the range of its scholars-embracing all climates, its intellect should combine a semi-tropical warmth and coloring with the vigor and enduring strength of the temperate zone with broad plains spanned with railways and coursed with flowing streams, mind should be free, active, and swift-comprising mountain ranges with heaven-piercing peaks, thought should be trained towards the illimitable and sent forth in search of the infinite-including all races and tongues, the lore and languages of the world should blend their treasures to enrich its literature. Whatever characteristics it may possess, the great fact in connection with this "land of the free" is the intensely practical character of its people. A new continent is opened to civilization, and its former tawny occupants, henceforth out of place upon the busy scene, shrink away and die. The stream of humanity flows westward, from ocean to ocean, rolling over mountains without regard to the laws of gravitation; grappling with nature at every point, intent upon utility first that beauty may come afterwards. Riches are coined from the prairie earth and the gentle rain, the forest mould and the golden sunshine, the lowly plant and the mighty tree, the mountain rock, the river sands, the bosom of the lakes, the waves of ocean-all by the aid of human muscles and the sweat of the face of man; and from rosy morning till the last faint thread of twilight disappears, the day is filled with sounds of labor and sights of industry, as the products of field, wood, and mine are fashioned and fitted for the aliment, comfort, or convenience of man, and made to swell the aggregate of material wealth.

In such a country the education of the cloister will never answer a practical purpose. Delving in classic mines through weary years, till the atmosphere of the present is mouldy with the emanations of the dead past, will not suffice for the activities and practicalities of this living age. The theory and philosophy of language must take a high place in American education; but science, in its myriad applications to art and invention, opens a field inviting, alluring, and boundless, which promises more of good and glory than any other path of learning. It is yet a new path. Alas! how little do the "masters" of special branches of science at present know of the treasures of which they have caught but glimpses, and how powerless are they to apply this knowledge to human arts or the wants of man. Mathematics must be relied on as a balance-wheel to give stability to the mind in this era of impulse and will; and to none can it be more useful than to the women of our land. It is an error long since dissipated that girls cannot understand or appreciate the higher mathematics. I have known classes of girls, year after year, to equal or excel the attainments of similar college classes of boys in the same neighborhood.