thenic exercises. Talk of education! What course of Eton and Oxford equals the mental fatigues of an accomplished young lady? There is the piano, the harp—the hands and feet equally to be studied—one to be made perfect in its touch, the other in its tread; then, perhaps, she has some little voice, which is to be shaken into a fine one—French and Italian are indispensable—geography, grammar, histories ancient and modern; there are drawings, in crayons and colours—tables to be painted, and also screens—a little knowledge of botany and her catechism, and you have done your best towards giving your daughter that latest of blessings, as the Edinburgh and Westminster Reviews call it, a solid education. It is true, as soon as the great purpose of feminine existence, marriage, is accomplished, the labour and expense of years will be utterly forgotten and wasted; but you have not the less done your duty. Emerged from the dull school-room, the young lady comes out: period of heart-burnings and balls—of precaution and pretension—of the too attractive younger brother—of the too necessary elder one—time of love and lectures—the Mount Ararat between
