osen music, and has gone far with
the best masters in this country and in Europe, so far that she now
holds a high rank among musicians at home and abroad. Another has
taken art, and has not been content to paint pretty gifts for her
friends, but in the studios of New York, Munich, and Paris, she has won
the right to be called an artist, and in her studio at home to paint
portraits which have a market value. A third has proved that she can
earn her living, if need be, by her exquisite jellies, preserves, and
sweetmeats. Yet the house in the mountains, the house by the sea, and
the friends in the city are not neglected, nor are these young women
found less attractive because of their special accomplishments.

While it is not true that all girls should go to college any more than
that all boys should go, it is nevertheless true that they should go in
greater numbers than at present. They fail to go because they, their
parents and their teachers, do not see clearly the personal benefits
distinct from the commercial value of a college training. I wish here
to discuss these benefits, these larger gifts of the college
life,--what they may be, and for whom they are waiting.

It is undoubtedly true that many girls are totally unfitted by home and
school life for a valuable college course. These joys and successes,
these high interests and friendships, are not for the self-conscious
and nervous invalid, nor for her who in the exuberance of youth
recklessly ignores the laws of a healthy life. The good society of
scholars and of libraries and laboratories has no place and no
attraction for her who finds no message in Plato, no beauty in
mathematical order, and who never longs to know the meaning of the
stars over her head or the flowers under her feet. Neither will the
finer opportunities of college life appeal to one who, until she is
eighteen (is there such a girl in this country?), has felt no passion
for the service of others, no desire to know if through history or
philosophy, or any study of the laws of society, she can learn why the
world is so sad, so hard, so selfish as she finds it, even when she
looks upon it from the most sheltered life. No, the college cannot be,
should not try to be, a substitute for the hospital, reformatory or
kindergarten. To do its best work it should be organized for the
strong, not for the weak; for the high-minded, self-controlled,
generous, and courageous spirits, not for the indiffe