A well-disciplined and a well-stored mind she does indeed require; but a heart of pure affections, a lively imagination, and quick sensibilities to give depth, and form, and beauty, and vivacity to the character of her mind, are so peculiarly feminine accomplishments, that without them a woman of the greatest intellect is, as it were, unsexed and disrobed of her loveliest charms. She may be a Queen Elizabeth, and conquer a Spanish Armada, but she will never conquer the heart, nor be recognized as a model of female character. She is to be the mother of her race. This fixes the sphere of her duties in the home. Think of Helen Olcott, the wife of Rums Choate; of the first Mrs. Webster, and of her influence upon that man who won the proud appellation, "The Great Expounder." The story is told of Daniel Webster meeting a woman with her two boys loaded down with bundles, at the Jersey Ferry, in New York. The lady had lost her fortune through the failure of her husband. She was poor, and the old set ignored her. But she lived in a little cottage in New Jersey, and made it bright with her face of love. She was tired and sad. Many had passed her. Mr. Webster, seeing her perplexity, offered to relieve her of her bundles, and take charge of one of the boys. They entered the cars. He talked to her of her God-given trust, of her work, and of the results that would naturally flow from her efforts; of the province of a mother, of the trust reposed in her by God himself. She was encouraged and strengthened, and when she came to the depot, she said, "Please, sir, give me your card, that I may mention your name to my husband." She hurried out, and looked at it, and saw the name of Daniel Webster. The woman was thrilled with the joy that came to her in her sphere of service. Earth knows no fairer, holier relation than that of mother; and she turned with delight from the bubbles and froth of fashion to the grand work before her of raising men for God and humanity. "The treasures of the deep are not so precious As are the concealed comforts of a man Locked up in woman's love. I scent the air Of blessings when I come but near the house. What a delicious breath marriage sends forth! The violet bed's not sweeter."