cannot do it. Let us pity them. They would probably tell us that they
have not studied poetry and music, the French language, crochet, and
the Boston, to become kitchen drudges: and they will not fail to
remind us that Cinderella did not charm the prince as a kitchen-maid,
and that she had ceased to be Cinderbreech, and had emerged from the
chimney-corner when she married him. But will they please to curb
their wrath for a moment and listen to Dr. Clarke? "Unless men and
women both have brains, the nation will go down. As much brain is
needed to govern a household as to command a ship; as much to guide a
family aright as to guide a Congress aright; as much to do the least
and the greatest of woman's work as to do the least and the greatest
of man's work."

Now, the dressing of messes by the neat-handed Phillis is one of the
important elements of governing a household; and the Princess
Cinderella was the better housewife because she had once been
Cinderbreech. Nelson was the better admiral because he had once been
cabin-boy. Dickens was the better story-teller because he had once
been reporter. If, indeed, Darby can afford to pay a hundred dollars
monthly to a _chef_, Joan need know nothing of messes; but how many
such Darbys are there?

These remarks, or similar ones, have been often heard by the gentler
reader, and are somewhat familiar to her, not to say wearisome. "Oh
yes," she says, "I know all this: men want women in the family to be
angels and French cooks rolled into one. Heaven save the mark! Suppose
that women on their side were to expect men in the family to be heroes
and gentlemen as well as 'good providers?'"

Well, madame, they ought to expect it and to insist upon it. Perhaps