Among women the influence is evident. They are, it is true, largely free from the temptations of frivolity, extravagance and dissipation, but they are subject to temptations of no light weight. Their few interests lead them to gossiping, prying and criticising. Lines of class distinction are drawn so painfully tight that their lives become narrow in sympathies and associations. Very largely they lack independence of spirit to help them dare untried lines of conduct. Many of our American villages and “corners” are the most trying places in the land in which to live. Few dare to try improvements, enthusiasm meets little or no response, ideas travel slowly. Village life _looks_ ideal to one wearied by the rush and wickedness of a city, but there is in it a peculiarly benumbing influence which is all the more difficult to contend against because so silent in its action. Yet there are two of the best conditions for high living in the surroundings of town and country. There are leisure and quiet. Anything which will impregnate this rare life with enthusiasm and energy will furnish the happiest conditions for noble action and steady growth. It is not an easy problem for a reformer in such a locality, but we believe Mrs. Campbell in her “What-to-do Club” offers a solution which will rarely fail among girls and women. “The What-to-do Club” is an unpretending story, but it has a practical grip on this question. It introduces us to a dozen or more village girls of varying ranks. One has had superior opportunities; another exceptional training; two or three have been “away to school;” some are farmers’ daughters; there is a teacher, two or three poor self-supporters—in fact, about such an assemblage as any town between New York and Chicago might give us. But while there is a large enough company to furnish a delightful coterie, there is absolutely no social life among them. The differences in their opportunities they have exaggerated until they feel that their interests are as unlike as those of Fijis and Bostonians. They look at each other with curiosity merely, and all of them are bored by the dullness of their lives. Mrs. Campbell puts a wise woman into their midst. This woman’s experience has taught her that the barrier between women of different sets is largely their ignorance of each other, their belief that they have nothing in common. She finds something in common for these girls. By a little tact, exerted at a village gathering, she interests them in herself. A second stroke of policy finds them gathered in her parlor and she clinches her work by giving them an insight into practical employments—not pleasures, mind you—but work, for women at home. The interest excited quickens them all. They become alert, capable, quick-witted, and suddenly see in each other much of which they had never before dreamed. The false barriers between women invariably fall before a common interest. Show them how strangely their minds and lives