noble worth, and will become one place as well as another. I do believe
in choice of work; but I believe even more strongly in a girl's
preserving the "eternally womanly," whatever she does, and wherever she
is.

In most cases, a woman's work and place are in her own home. "Wherever
a true wife comes, home is always round her. The stars only may be
over her head, the glow-worm in the night-cold grass may be the only
fire at her foot; but home is yet wherever she is: and for a noble
woman it stretches far round her, better than ceiled with cedar, or
painted with vermilion, shedding its quiet light far, for those who
else were homeless." [Footnote: Ruskin.]

As a girl is bound to do what she honestly feels she can do best, she
should never question how her work may seem to another, if it does
not absolutely injure another. I should not ask is this man's work
or woman's work; but, rather, is it my work? But, in whatever I
attempted, I should repeatedly say to myself, Am I keeping my womanhood
strong and real, as God intended it? am I working womanly? In many
cases, much more good might be accomplished by girls and women, if,
instead of so much talk about lacking privileges, they took the places
they could fill. Sister Dora never questioned whether she ought to bind
up the wounds of her crushed workmen: she laid them on the beds of
her hospital, and calmly healed them. Caroline Herschel did not stop
to ask whether her telescope were privileged to find new stars, but
swept it across the heavens, and was the first discoverer of at least
five comets. A great obstacle in the way of advancement to girls comes
from the coarse mannerism of certain women who have worked in given
directions. Why is it that, when a woman begins to do the work a man
has been accustomed to perform, she cultivates a man's ways? It is