"But the merest lad detects the lost woman. She carries the evidences of her guilt (or misfortune?) in the very clothes she wears, whether she is the richly dressed courtesan of the Bowery, or the beggarly street-walker of the village. There is a delicacy in, and a fine bloom on the nature of woman, which impurity smites with its first breath, and she cannot conceal the loss nor cover the shame!" "If there be but one spot upon thy name, One eye thou fearest to meet, one human voice Whose tones thou shrinkest from, Woman! veil thy face, And bow thy head and die!" Then is there no help for woman's condition in this cold, uncharitable world? you ask, in view of these facts related above. Yes; _but it rests with woman_. It must begin with the first breath the female infant draws. Educate her from the cradle. Give her the freedom of the boy, the pure air that the boy breathes; not the romping, rude, boisterous plays, perhaps (?), of the boy, but plenty of outdoor exercise, runs, slides, skates, rides; let her laugh, yea _shout_, if it be in a country place, till the woods ring again with the merry echoes, and the puzzled forest nymphs issue from their invaded retreats, endeavoring to solve the riddle by ocular demonstration which their ears have failed to unravel, viz., the sex, as revealed in the strength of voice and buoyancy of spirits, or expressed in unrestrained laughter! "O, shocking! How hoidenish!" Who says to laugh is "_hoidenish_?" A female invariably! And this is just what we are explaining: women must change tactics as teachers. There is time enough to instruct the _young_ lady, after the girl or the miss has developed muscle, vitalized her blood, and capacitated her brain for the sterner realities of life. Let women learn to be true teachers of women. Begin at the beginning. This is the only way. Stand by one another in the reform. Never mind the ballot; don't try to wear the _breeches_. No--the male attire I mean. The superfluous boarding-school education must give place to something more substantial. Mrs. Dashaway is to the point:-- "No, Pauline; home eddycation is perferable. If there is a requestred spot on this toad-stool I detest more'n another it is a female cemetery, where bread-and-butter girls are sent and quartered for a finished eddycation; and it does finish most of em." "O, no, no, aunty. You mean _sequestered_ spot, and sent _quarterly_ to a _seminary_." "Well, well; you've got too many oceans in your head already of Greek and zebra, of itchiology, and other humerous works; as for me, give me pure blood, sound teeth, and a good constitution, and let them what's got them sort of diseases see the good Samaritan, and ten to eleven if he don't cure them in less than no time. Land! if Pauline ain't drummin' the piany!"