which his mind is stored? He has entered, by virtue of his manly education, into a world of thought which has already begun to sunder him intellectually from women, and will sunder him still further.

He has been enjoying the companionship of the sages, warriors, poets, scholars of antiquity; holding high converse with the mighty dead; walking in the academic groves with Plato and his disciples. He has wept over the fate of Socrates. He has listened, in company with thirty thousand Athenian citizens, to the sonorous verses of Eschylus, Sophocles, Euripides. Nothing that is great, glorious, and sublime in the rich field of classic literature has escaped the ardent student who has thus hived up a cornucopia of knowledge which will enlarge his sympathies with humanity, extend the scope of his intelligent and reflective powers, and beautify his soul for ever. His brain is a palimpseest on which is inscribed the grand panorama of History from the poem of Genesis down to the last revolution in France.

Let us add to the lore of antiquity, the modern standard authors in every department of thought— religion, politics, natural history, the exact sciencesand we need not wonder at the want of sympathy which begins at this period between a well-educated man and his female relatives. The fiat of society has gone forth, that the education of woman should end precisely at the age when that of maǹ may properly be said to commence. While the brothers are sent to college, the girls are withdrawn from a fashionable boarding-school, to do crochet and English embroidery, attend picnics and practise the piano, and begin that delightful career of dressing, dancing, novel-reading, and flirtation-in short, that species of dissipation which is lawful for young women after they have "come out."

A few efforts to discuss, and not to skim over the

surface of any interesting and abstract question, political, social, or literary, will soon make manifest the change which has taken place in their respective mental relations. He will discover that his mother and sisters, and the ladies whom he numbers among his acquaintance, do not understand him, and cannot converse with him. But he will also discover, what will at first surprise him not a little, that women are by no means disposed to acquiesce in the effects of the superiority of masculine education. They pay respect, not to what is said, but to the person saying

it. They will listen to the parson, or the doctor, or anybody possessing a social status, an imposing manner; nay, a little curate, on account of his white neckcloth, will be preferred before our young "unaccredited hero," even when he speaks on subjects which he has meditated and studied.

A young man of enthusiastic temperament who thinks for himself, is naturally fond of making his sentiments known to those whom he loves and respects. But he will find it difficult to persevere in his attempt to raise the "bald disjointed chat"-the vapid, aimless common-place around him-into something deserving the name of conversation, that thing so rarely met with in mixed society, when his observations are met with a blank stare of astonishment, or with a titter of affected contempt, or some such encouraging remarks as, "Dear me! how very absurd!" or, "Well, to be sure, what an odd idea!" "Gracious! Edward, how can you talk such nonsense ?"

or,

Yet I have frequently witnessed an original and thoughtful sentiment received in this manner, especially in provincial society, where, as the French wit observed, "un original passe pour un fou"-" an original passes for a madman"—and where, as Balzac truly and humorously says, "it is not permitted to be original. That would be to have ideas uncompre

hended by others; and they desire, there, equality of mind as well as equality in manners." Nay, I have seen people who had been talking puerilities for hours, combine indignantly to silence an adventurous speaker who was guilty of the crime of trying to introduce the element of thought.*

Yet, society professes to wonder that young men turn away disgusted from the drawing-room and the tea-party for the club-room and the discussion-forum. I reply, let society reform itself; let there be less cant, less dulness. Let women really attempt to understand their husbands, and brothers, and sons— which they do not; let a beautiful woman try and make herself also an intellectual companion for a man of intelligence; and you will see whether men will not reform themselves-whether dissipation will not diminish, whether a more intimate mental communion between the sexes will not be established.

Perhaps no more bitter disappointment awaits the young man of education and refinement at his entrance into life, than the discovery that the elevated pursuits of scholarship will avail him so little in the society of women. He nurses dreams, that the peculiar delicacy and keen perceptions of the female nature will make women delightful intellectual companions. To be appreciated, to be understood, to be valued, to be loved, for no perishable mundane qualities, but for the culture of the immortal mind, by one of these beautiful creatures, would be the realisation of the exquisite fiction of Cupid and Psyche.

I remember an instance of this which may be interesting to the reader. A young man, fresh from the University, thought he had discovered in a cer

* See Mr. Mill's Essay on Liberty, for some valuable remarks on the tendency of the age to repress all individual originality.

tain young lady a congenial soul who entirely reciprocated his love for books. The young lady belonged to an old and highly-respectable county family, collateral branches of which are extensively found not merely in England, but throughout the civilised world. We will call her name Nimrod! She was one of those young ladies who attain the art of appearing extremely interested in topics to which they are totally indifferent-who listen patiently with a gravity which thoroughly imposes on the speaker, while their only thought is, "He is falling in love with me for my comprehensive understanding as well as my beauty"—one of those ladies who can vary their manner to suit the taste of their suitors, and can, in short, be "all things to all men." The young gentleman had begun to feel tender sentiments for her, under the impression that she understood him, had digested every word he had ever spoken to her, and perfectly sympathised with him. Miss Nimrod, however, having succeeded in securing her prey, as she thought, beyond the possibility of escape, had tired of her conquest, and was now determined to have a little sport with him, on the same principle that a cat plays with a mouse which she has rendered unable to escape.

One evening, he found Miss Nimrod surrounded by a phalanx of tittering beaux, men in every respect opposite to himself, who all looked as if they had come out of bandboxes, with whiskers "of the required cattish length," whose persons were evidently more adorned than their minds, and who pronounced the most vapid common-places, the most inane compliments, in loud, drawling tones, while the man of thought blushed in uttering the most original and beautiful ideas. As he approached, he overheard the young lady in whom he fondly hoped to find an intellectual companion and friend, a woman worthy to be his wife, say, "Oh, here comes the read

""

con

ing-man!" Immediately the facial muscles of the beings who wore coats and moustaches were agitated in anticipation of the laugh which they expected at the expense of "the muff." "Well, Mr tinued the young lady, in a voice which did not conceal the latent sneer, 66 pray what new book have you to recommend this evening?" The scholar bowed, and ere he turned on his heel, replied, in a voice which expressed all the scorn he felt, The last new handbook of etiquette."