attractiveness which they will find it difficult to pick up again.  Of course such a question as this could never arise except in just such a world as this is.  For in an ideal world it could be shown that the highest intelligence and the highest personal charm are twins.  If, therefore, it should turn out, which seems absurd, that college-educated girls are not as attractive as other women with less advantages, it will have to be admitted that something is the matter with the young ladies, which is preposterous, or that the system is still defective.  For the postulate that everybody ought to be attractive cannot be abandoned for the sake of any system.  Decision on this system cannot be reached without long experience, for it is always to be remembered that the man’s point of view of attractiveness may shift, and he may come to regard the intellectual graces as supremely attractive; while, on the other hand, the woman student may find that a winning smile is just as effective in bringing a man to her feet, where he belongs, as a logarithm.

The danger of being too attractive, though it has historic illustration, is thought by many to be more apparent than real.  Merely being too attractive has often been confounded with a love of flirtation and conquest, unbecoming always in a man, and excused in a woman on the ground of her helplessness.  It could easily be shown that to use personal attractiveness recklessly to the extent of hopeless beguilement is cruel, and it may be admitted that woman ought to be held to strict responsibility for her attractiveness.  The lines are indeed hard for her.  The duty is upon her in this poor world of being as attractive as she can, and yet she is held responsible for all the mischief her attractiveness produces.  As if the blazing sun should be called to account by people with weak eyes.

WEATHER AND CHARACTER

The month of February in all latitudes in the United States is uncertain.  The birth of George Washington in it has not raised it in public esteem.  In the North, it is a month to flee from; in the South, at best it is a waiting month—­a month of rain and fickle skies.  A good deal has been done for it.  It is the month of St. Valentine, it is distinguished by the leap-year addition of a day, and ought to be a favorite of the gentle sex; but it remains a sort of off period in the year.  Its brevity recommends it, but no one would take any notice of it were it not for its effect upon character.  A month of rigid weather is supposed to brace up the moral nature, and a month of gentleness is supposed to soften the asperities of the disposition, but February contributes to neither of these ends.  It is neither a tonic nor a soother; that is, in most parts of our inexplicable land.  We make no complaint of this.  It is probably well to have a period in the year that tests character to the utmost, and the person who can enter spring through the gate of February a better man or woman is likely to adorn society the rest of the year.