ecessity of a thorough knowledge of domestic and household labor. Your own common sense teaches you how sadly embarrassed a dependent woman must be, who is unskilful in the arts of the kitchen and the laundry. Even at the head of a household with abundant means, such skill is indispensable to quietude and happiness. Your good sense also teaches you to despise the notion that such labors degrade a woman. She is degraded who cannot perform them; and even a poor ignorant Irish girl will despise a mistress whose household skill is beneath her own. Neither can you imagine that such duties are inconsistent with high intellectual culture and usefulness; for the lives of such gentlewomen as Madame ROLAND, who could prepare her husband's dinner with her own hands in the daytime, and in the evening attract the admiration of the greatest minds in France by her learned and brilliant wit; Mrs. MARY DWIGHT, the daughter of JONATHAN EDWARDS, who, while she performed her household duties with industry and propriety, also, by her great mental vigor, awakened the souls of her children to a love of letters and virtue, with a suc cess which made her worthy to be the mother of such a son as TIMOTHY DWIGHT, — these, and scores besides, prove, beyond dispute, that devotion to household duties is not at variance with the cultivation of refined and liberal learning. Seek, therefore, young lady, for skill in household labors; acquire some means of living by your own labor; cultivate a courageous spirit; learn to be decided in your adhesion to the voices of duty,—and you will be fitted to confront, with a consciousness of strength to overcome them, the most trying ordeals of life. Resting on these qualities, you will feel strong, your heart will be bold, you will not sink, with a crushed and broken spirit, under the pressure of difficulty, but, erect and mighty, you will be mistress of your circumstances, and victor over your trials. Provided, however, you trust for the divine blessing on your personal attainments and efforts. Behold an ancient Roman tribunal, with its venerable judges, its lictors, its councillors and its crowds of spectators. A man of benevolent counte nance and lofty dignity stands at the bar. He casts his expressive eyes over the assembly, as if looking for some sympathetic face. An air of sadness suddenly darkening his features, proclaims his disappointment. Not one familiar friendly face is there All have left him in his extremity. The sentence of that court may be the highest penalty of law, and his admirers and adherents are unwilling to risk their own liberties, by being present to encourage their friend. But see! the shadow departs. Light streams from his enraptured eyes, a lovely smile plays upon his lips, a rich glow irradiates his countenance. His bearing becomes more fitting to a triumphant conqueror than to a prisoner liable to a violent death. Who is he? What is he? Whence his power? Reader, that man is PAUL THE APOSTLE, at the bar of imperial Rome, to answer for the offence of the cross. His converts had forsaken him, and for a moment he felt sad. That sudden change shall be explained by his own words to a beloved friend, to whom he wrote: At my first answer, no man stood with me; but all men forsook me. Notwithstanding, THE LORD STOOD WITH ME AND STRENGTHENED ME." Here is the glorious secret. All his eloquence, his learning, his logical skill, were insufficient in that hour. He looked for further aid. He dared not rely wholly upon his gifts. But when his faith discerned the presence of God, to bless his gifts and control events, he felt sure. The ground became as solid rock beneath him. Learn, therefore, young lady, in addition to all other trusts, to lean on the aid of God. Look for his energy to operate through your gifts and attainments, and to give them their chief efficiency. Rest not, until you are able to say, "The Lord stands with me!" Then, though you are of all women most delicate, weak and exposed, you shall stand a pillar of invincible strength, defying alike the roaring of the waves and the howling of the wind. The springs of self-reliance will be in you indeed. CHAPTER VIII. OF SELF-CULTURE OANNA BAILLIE has a trag. edy named ETHWALD, whose hero is described as having, in his "fair opening youth," "A heart inclined To truth and kindly deeds, Though somewhat dashed with shades of darker hue. But from this mixéd sea of good and ill, One baleful plant in dark strength raised its head, O'ertopping all the rest; circumstance which favoring Did foster up into a growth so monstrous, Died all the native plants of feebler stem." This passage unveils the heart of the reader, as fully as it does that of the poet's ideal hero. For, |