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 disinherit women from this birthright, and to the question, "What is the chief end of woman?" would reply, “To glorify man, and to help him to enjoy himself for a little time." But Rousseau and those who follow in his footsteps do not even succeed in this poor aim. Happiness is one of those things of which it may with truth be said, “I was found of them that sought me not; I was made manifest unto them that asked not after me." Poor Theresa nursing in her dull brain undying resentment against the man who had robbed her of her children, the squalor and degradation of the pair, and the miserable end of Rousseau's life, are all a terrible commentary on the rottenness of the principles on which he founded their joint existence. All the beauty of personal devotion and self-abnegation, which count for so much in the happiness of family life, disappear and wither when they are selfishly claimed by one member of the family as due to him from the others, and are entirely unreciprocated on his part. The affectionate mutual consideration and happy companionship of human beings with equal rights, but different capacities and different occupations, are exchanged by those who adopt Rousseau's doctrines for a state of things which develops the vices of tyranny on the one side and the vices of slavery on the other; the husband becomes a harsh, exacting master, the wife and other members of the household too often become obsequious and deceitful serfs. Mary Wollstonecraft's husband wrote of her shortly after her death, “She was a worshipper of domestic life," and the truth of the expression is felt