only to man, and it
is right they should. He it was whom God created first, let him
take pre-eminence. But among those stars of lesser glory, which
are given to lighten the nations, among sweet-voiced poets,
earnest prose writers, who, by lofty truth that lies hid
beneath legend and parable, purify the world, graceful painters
and beautiful musicians, each brightening their generation with
serene and holy lustre--among these, let woman shine! But her
sphere is, and ever must be, bounded; because, however lofty
her genius may be, it always dwells in a woman's breast.
Nature, which gave to man the dominion of the intellect, gave
to her that of the heart and affections. These bind her with
everlasting links from which she cannot free herself,--nay, she
would not if she could. Herein man has the advantage. He,
strong in his might of intellect, can make it his all in all,
his life's sole aim and guerdon. A Brutus, for that ambition
which is misnamed patriotism, can trample on all human ties. A
Michael Angelo can stand alone with his genius, and so go
sternly down into a desolate old age. But there scarce ever
lived the woman who would not rather sit meekly by her own
hearth, with her husband at her side, and her children at her
knee, than be the crowned Corinne of the Capitol.

"Thus woman, seeking to strive with man, is made feebler by the
very spirit of love which in her own sphere is her chiefest
strength. But sometimes chance, or circumstance, or wrong,
sealing up her woman's nature, converts her into a
self-dependant human soul. Instead of life's sweetness, she has
before her life's greatness. The struggle passed, her genius
may lift itself upward, expand and grow mighty; never so mighty
as man's, but still great and glorious. Then, even while she
walks over the world's rough pathway, heaven's glory may rest
upon her up-turned brow, and she may become a light unto her
generation."

* * * * *

DAUTZENBERG, a Flemish poet, has issued at Brussels a volume of small
compositions, which, apart from freshness of fancy and beauty of
thought, are remarkable for the correctness and smoothness of their
form. The Flemish tongue is used by him with a lyrical success that
would reflect honor on a writer in the more melodious dialects of
Sou