assages indicate the right standpoint for the appreciation
of women.

You need only look at the way in which she is formed, to see that
woman is not meant to undergo great labor, whether of the mind or of
the body. She pays the debt of life not by what she does, but by what
she suffers; by the pains of child-bearing and care for the child,
and by submission to her husband, to whom she should be a patient and
cheering companion. The keenest sorrows and joys are not for her, nor
is she called upon to display a great deal of strength. The current
of her life should be more gentle, peaceful and trivial than man's,
without being essentially happier or unhappier.

Women are directly fitted for acting as the nurses and teachers of
our early childhood by the fact that they are themselves childish,
frivolous and short-sighted; in a word, they are big children all
their life long--a kind of intermediate stage between the child and
the full-grown man, who is man in the strict sense of the word. See
how a girl will fondle a child for days together, dance with it and
sing to it; and then think what a man, with the best will in the
world, could do if he were put in her place.

With young girls Nature seems to have had in view what, in the
language of the drama, is called _a striking effect_; as for a few
years she dowers them with a wealth of beauty and is lavish in her
gift of charm, at the expense of all the rest of their life; so that
during those years they may capture the fantasy of some man to such a
degree that he is hurried away into undertaking the honorable care of
them, in some form or other, as long as they live--a step for which
there would not appear to be any sufficient warranty if reason only
directed his thoughts. Accordingly, Nature has equipped woman, as she
does all her creatures, with the weapons and implements requisite
for the safeguarding of her existence, and for just as long as it is
necessary for her to have them. Here, as elsewhere, Nature proceeds
with her usual economy; for just as the female ant, after fecundation,
loses her wings, which are then superfluous, nay, actually a danger
to the business of breeding; so, after giving birth to one or two
children, a woman generally loses her beauty; probably, indeed, for
similar reasons.

And so we find that young girls, in their hearts, look upon domestic
affairs or work of any kind as of secondary importance, if not
actually as a mere jest. The only busi