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Look at me, my

unite. I see them as if in sight of me. brethren, from our glorious land; look on us radiant with the light cast on us as by the saints and angels who stand over us; gaze on us as you approach, and kindle as you gaze. We died-you thought us dead; we live-we cannot return to you; you must come to us, and you are coming. Do not your hearts beat as you approach us? Do you not long for the hour that makes us one? * * * Is it possible that there is a resurrection even on this earth? O! wonderful grace; that there should be a joyful meeting after parting before we get to heaven.'

There is about these words a subtle tenderness, and a passionate beseeching, and beneath all there runs a steady undercurrent of secret triumph-triumph in the profound conviction of the power of the Infinite and the Unseen to prevail over the Finite and Seen, and of spiritual affinities to dissolve and vanquish even here and upon this earth all merely human antagonism and restlessness.

ART. IV.-EMPLOYMENTS FOR EDUCATED WOMEN.

OUR

UR age, it is often said, is an age of questions. So, no doubt, had we means of full information on the matter, has every other age, more or less, been. For it is impossible to conceive any social condition which has not its evils, inconveniences, and difficulties, or any community of civilised men who would not have to exercise their understandings and prove their philanthropy in devising and carrying out means for the bettering or beautifying of their existence in some or other particulars. A due consideration of this obvious fact will save us from falling into the foolish habit of fancying the former times better on the whole than these; and, by preventing a querulous, unjust way of regarding our own time, will tend to fit us for a cheerful, patient grappling with the perplexities which may beset our path, and so lead us towards a satisfactory solution of them.

Still, there is no doubt, this age is, to a degree beyond most that have preceded it, impelled to busy itself with questions.' The very term threatens to become technical by frequent usage, in defiance of protest and ridicule on the part of purists. It would not be difficult, were this the occasion, to point out the cause or causes of this fact. Turn to what quarter of the world we may, glance at whatever pro

A surown nacional bee we will, questions meet us everyce, a 'immense variety, and of all degrees of importance, eng from these touching the most momentous truths of religion, and the vastest international interests in peace and wad down to that notable Tanz-e dance question) which, we dare from a writer in the Saturday Review, was recer, y discussed and settled in the venerable Republic ef Cr

Among the questions more particularly forcing themselves en our scaution of late years in England is this relating to employmens for educated women, en which we purpose to speak drierly, not only with a view to foster and extend an mollgent marest in it, but also in the hope that we shall be able to oder one or two suggestions of a practical nature which may be of service to see who need them.

It is nevessary, at the outset, to remind our readers that we do not priend, on this occasion, to enter upon the general subject of the employments of women; but we select as our home only one special branch of it, involving considerations of singular delicacy and difficulty employments for educated WOMEN. Is is obvious that while the pressing wants of a large class in society have necessitated the enlargement of the sphere of female labour, and given origin to several excellent and useful schemes for the profitable occupation of women and girls, so that large numbers of them, who might otherwise have been still languishing in enforced idleness, are now diligently at work and earning a decent livelihood, the case of educated women is not yet provided for. We are sure that those energetic and devoted ladies, whose names are now well known to the world in connection with the schemes we refer to, will not suspect that it is from any defect of sympathy with their aims, or of appreciation of their labours, that we say we have still to inquire how to meet the peculiar want of educated women. It is too obvious to need particular proof that they derive no benefit from the emigration scheme, that they cannot do the drudgery of law-copying, nor take their place in a railway office to work the telegraph, nor stand for fon or twelve hours a day at the compositor's case in the printing office. These are tasks within the capacity of those who have not had the opportunity of more than the most elementary instruction.

Moreover, while these schemes have been devised for the benefit of such as have a livelihood entirely to seek, it is our present desire to throw out hints which may be serviceable to such as are not wholly without means of living, but would gladly increase them if only they could discover how to do so,.

and

and thereby save themselves from the misery of dependence, and from that equal or worse misery of sinking down, suddenly or with slow torture, from that position and way of life which education and habits of refinement have made almost more necessary to them than mere bread. It would be difficult, and it is not needful, to calculate the probable number of educated women now living in our own country whose case is such as we have in view. We imagine that very few of our readers will be at a loss to recall to mind one or more such persons within their own circle, however narrow it may be. No one will deny or doubt that there is a very large number of them altogether, and that though they form comparatively a small class in the entire community, they hold so important a relation to it, and are besides so keenly susceptible of a thousand pangs which the dull and uncultivated escape, in whatever condition they find themselves, that to study their interests is a task well worthy of the highest wisdom and the purest love, and fitted to engage the best sympathies of all. Indeed, the widest possible interest and sympathy may well be awakened by the consideration that every day makes additions to the number of this class, and that so long as death and unforeseen inevitable misfortune hold their own in this world, no family can boast itself of perennial exemption from the common liability, or be sure that one or more of its own members will not one day be the victims. Yesterday perhaps the blow of misfortune fell on the thriving merchant; his business is broken up, his fortune, built up by the labour of long years, is dissolved in a moment, and his future is a blank, to be filled up as best it may. To-day the clergyman is struck down by death; to-morrow it may be the physician or the lawyer. In all such cases there may be wives and daughters and sisters, who, unfitted by delicate nurture and the habits and associations of refined society for rough usage and hard work and contact with the coarse work-day world, must yet face such things or die. How many perish in the miserable struggle it is impossible to guess. They suffer for the most part quietly, and quietly at last they die. Only now and then a paragraph in the newspapers gives us a glimpse of the tragedies of this kind that are too plentiful around us.

What kind of task can be devised to meet the case of this class of sufferers? It must be something capable of being pursued privately and at home: it must be not purely mechanical, but must have some intellectual interest, must be better than toy-making and pastime, that the mind may be kept healthfully active and in a state of animated interest; and in order to be remunerative it must meet and

satisfy

have many of us known by experience this sort of thing; if the match goes off the friendship is resumed, but otherwise the shadow may remain, but the reality has for ever gone. And if, as we have heard, a husband separates female friends, so does a wife divide male friends. We appeal to all our bachelor readers whether this is not as true as sad. 'You see, my dear fellow, it does not suit my wife, &c.' Oh Damon! be warned in time; present your bridal gift and your congratulations, take up your hat and retire. You speak of her as dead,' says Milverton, 'is it so ?' 'No,' replies Ellesmere, 'much the same thing-married.'

Of course, if a man gets a bad wife it is competent for former friends to surround and console him; but by a certain superhuman tenderness or generosity which makes women more or less angels, they seldom avail themselves of any such means of comfort. Insulted, ill-used, and neglected, they do not even take to tobacco or clubs, but they have been known to seek refuge in gaiety, in suicide, in good works, but most often in patience and in prayer.

Tyranny, however thorough and excessive, is hardly ever the cause of rupture in friendships between characters of a noble and faithful cast. This observation experience justifies and high authority corroborates. The finer the nature the stronger the tendency, when deprived of any valid reason for mutiny, towards an absolute and general submission.' 'What was liberty to him, what is she to any of us? We make a great fuss about her, and erect statues to her, and prate about her being the air we breathe-if we have it not we die, but we don't die, and we don't really care a pin about our liberty. What we like is a despotism-an iron despotism that we have raised up for ourselves, and we elect to grovel under it and grumble at it, and hug our chains tighter and tighter the while. One of these dicta was written by a man, and the other by a woman, and we leave our readers to detect the masculine or feminine ring in which they will.

Prosperity and adversity are commonly supposed to be fertile sources of estrangement, and the onus is in such cases almost invariably laid on the fortunate man's shoulders; but in hasty conclusions of this kind there is often much injustice. If, apart from our own experience, we investigate such instances as come within our own observation, we shall see that twice out of three times the fault lies on the other side. There is much kindness and indulgence shown towards misfortune in the world, though it is the fashion in books to affirm the contrary; moreover, it is more easy for the opulent and fortunate to be forbearing, generous, and

cordial,

cordial, than for those who have toiled and failed, whose venture has been wrecked, and who have, so to speak, been made to bite the dust. Prosperity develops all that is unworthy and sordid in a low and unrefined nature, and it is the beggar who goes to the devil when he is set on horseback. But our remarks have reference only to those whose minds are of a certain elevation and nobleness, and with this limitation we affirm that success gives fresh vigour and energy to all good qualities, but adversity is a most severe and crucial test of temper. If some great and continuous good fortune creates any excessive and painful contrast of position and circumstances between men who have been friends, and there lies hidden in the character of the less prosperous person but one spark of envy or churlishness, one atom of vanity or selfishness, if there is the shadow of want of trust in his friend or trust in himself, these things are sure to appear in all their repulsiveness, and stand between him and his better self. He will be cold in his congratulations, or bitter in his comments, harping on his own misfortunes, or striving to diminish the merits of the other man. He will grudge in his heart, and be cold and haughty, and resentful of kindness, as he never was in better times, or he will wear an injured air, and be ostentatiously humble-se poser en victime in short-than which there is nothing more aggravating to behold. It is as well to own at once that such a position is a difficult one to both parties. Nothing but genuine humility or good self-assurance will save the less fortunate man from betraying this foolish touchiness, and nothing but immense tact, and an earnest, sincere, and persistent cordiality from the other side will overcome it if it once appears. But all this it is worth while to try. The days will soon be over, and the minutes are of gold.' Alas! if we knew, if we only knew, how in the shadow of after years, when the blood runs frostily in the veins, and friends are few, and the energy to make new ones has departed from us, we may miss from our side the one whom perhaps of all others we loved the best, and remember too late the resentful acquiescence, and the little sympathy and generosity we felt in his success on the one hand, and, on the other, our stinted tenderness and small patience to the downcast and wounded in spirit, we should cast away our own supineness and indifference and strive, while yet there is time, and with our best strength, to save the stranding bark of friendship.

If it be said that we take an extreme view of the rights, the duties, and the privileges of a friend, or that we overestimate the value attached to the possession of one, it must

be

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