ade to the Female Seminary was, that it
would disqualify their daughters for their accustomed toil. In after
years woman might be seen carrying her Spelling-book to the field
along with her Persian hoe, little dreaming that she was thus taking
the first step towards the substitution of the new implement for the
old.

Nestorian parents used to consider the birth of a daughter a great
calamity. When asked the number of their children, they would count up
their sons, and make no mention of their daughters. The birth of a son
was an occasion for great joy and giving of gifts. Neighbors hastened
to congratulate the happy father, but days might elapse before the
neighborhood knew of the birth of a daughter. It was deemed highly
improper to inquire after the health of a wife, and the nearest
approach to it was to ask after the house or household. Formerly a man
never called his wife by name, but in speaking of her would say the
mother of "so and so," giving the name of the child; or the daughter
of "so and so," giving the name of her father; or simply that woman
did this or that. Nor did the wife presume to call her husband's name,
or to address him in the presence of his parents, who, it will be
borne in mind, lived in the same apartment. They were married very
young, often at the age of fourteen, and without any consultation of
their own preference, either as to time or person.

There was hardly a man among the Nestorians who did not beat his wife
when the missionaries commenced their labors. The women expected to be
beaten, and took it as a matter of course. When the men wished to talk
together of anything important, they usually sent the women out
of doors or to the stable, as unable to understand or unfit to be
trusted. In some cases, says the author of "Woman and Her Saviour,"
this might be a necessary precaution; for the absence of true
affection, and the frequency of domestic broils, rendered the wife an
unsafe depositary of any important family affair.[A]

[Footnote A: Woman and her Saviour, pp. 18 and 19.]

In Paraguay a female child is described by Southey as lamenting, in
heart-breaking tones, that her mother did not kill her when she was
born; and Sir A. Mackenzie declares that there is a class of women
in the north who performed this pious duty towards female infants,
whenever they had an opportunity. But wherever Christ is known and
loved, the daughter is a gift of God as well as a son. Woman owes to
her Sa