taste, and must increase the general knowledge and love of nature.
Fortunate are the little children in those schools whose teachers
know and love the world in which they live. Their young eyes are
early opened to the beauty of birds and trees and plants. Not
only should we expect our girls to have a feeling for the fine
sunset or the wide-reaching panorama of field and water, but to
know something also about the less obvious aspects of nature,
its structure, its methods of work, and the endless diversity of
its parts. No one can have read Matthew Arnold's letters to his
wife, his mother, and his sister, without being struck by the
immense enjoyment he took throughout his singularly simple and
hard-working life in flowers and trees and rivers. The English
lake country had given him this happy inheritance, with everywhere
its sound of running water and its wealth of greenery. There is
a close connection between the marvellous unbroken line of English
song, and the passionate love of the Englishman for a home in the
midst of birds, trees, and green fields.

"The world is so full of a number of things,
That I think we should all be as happy as kings,"

is the opinion of everybody who knows nature as did Robert Louis
Stevenson. And so our college student may begin to know it. Let
her enter the laboratories and investigate for herself. Let her
make her delicate experiments with the blowpipe or the balance;
let her track mysterious life from one hiding-place to another;
let her "name all the birds without a gun," and make intimates
of flower and fish and butterfly--and she is dull indeed if breezy
tastes do not follow her through life, and forbid any of her days
to be empty of intelligent enjoyment. "Keep your years beautiful;