ift of the
eyelash, by a quiver of the eye, by a tone of the voice, by a trick of
the finger.

But what is the good of saying all this, if a woman cannot help herself?
The children must be seen to, and the work must be done, and after that
she has no time left. The "mother of a young and increasing family,"
with her "pale, thin face and feeble step," and her "multiplied and
wearying cares," is "completely worn down with so many children." She
has neither time nor spirit for self-culture, beyond what she may obtain
in the nursery. What satisfaction is there in proving that she is far
below where she ought to be, if inexorable circumstance prevent her from
climbing higher? What use is there in telling her that she will alienate
her husband and injure her children by her course, when there is no
other course for her to pursue? What can she do about it?

There is one thing that she need not do. She need not sit down and write
a book, affirming that it is the most glorious and desirable condition
imaginable. She need not lift up her voice and declare that "she lives
above the ills and disquietudes of her condition, in an atmosphere of
love and peace and pleasure far beyond the storms and conflicts of this
material life." Who ever heard of the mother of a young and increasing
family living in an atmosphere of peace, not to say pleasure, above
conflicts and storms? Who does not know that the private history of
every family with the ordinary allowance of brains is a record of
incessant internecine warfare? If she said less, we might believe her.
When she says so much, we cannot help suspecting. To make the best of
anything, it is not necessary to declare that it is the best thing.
Children must be taken care of, but it is altogether probable that there
are too many of them. Some people think that opinion several times more
atrocious than murder in the first degree; but I see no atrocity in it,
and there is none. I think there is an immense quantity of nonsense
about, regarding this thing. For my part, I don't credit half of it. I
believe in Malthus,--a great deal more than Malthus did himself. The
prosperity of a country is often measured by its population; but quite
likely it should be taken in inverse ratio. I certainly do not see why
the mere multiplication of the species is so indicative of prosperity.
Mobs are not so altogether lovely that one should desire their
indefinite increase. A village is honorable, not according