CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL.

madman, and fearing, on the other, that if he gave any credit to the story, he would be dreadfully distressed; so I remained silent, reflecting on what I should do, and I suppose looking very grave, for the young man suddenly laid his hand on my arm, and said: "Pardon me, Monsieur de Rosny, but, from your manner and I countenance, I cannot help thinking you know more of my brother than you are willing to own""Whatever you know, I felt myself change colour. beseech you to tell me!"

"But I know nothing!" I replied. "Then you suspect something-you have heard some report-let me hear it, whatever it is! I, too, have some reason to fear-some cause for anxiety; but I had hoped it was mere fancy-mere nervousness". "What," said I, interrupting him, "have you seen him too? Has he also visited you?"

"What, in "You spoke of fancy; you seemed to hint at something that might be mere delusion. I also have had a strange experience-a dream it may be"

"Who?" said he, looking wildly at me. Heaven's name, do you mean?"

"Relating to my brother?" asked he eagerly. "Relating to your brother," I replied, now relieved from my difficulty; and on his conjuring me to narrate the particulars, I forthwith proceeded to do so, begging him, however, not to attach any serious importance to the circumstance, unless he should find more conclusive reasons for apprehension.

"He listened to my narrative with the greatest interest; and when I had finished, he confessed, that if I had told him such a story a few weeks earlier, it would probably have been received with the ridicule I feared; "but," said he, "a circumstance has occurred to my sister, that seems, unhappily, but too confirmatory of ;" and he your vision or dream, or whatever it was;" then proceeded to acquaint De Rosny with the cause of their alarm.

was

soon

a

Arthur's negligence being habitual, the family appeared to feel no uneasiness on his account, and everything regarding the marriage advanced most prosperously; the young people walked, and boated, and rode together in the mornings, whilst Krasinski's talent for music and bewitching voice formed the herself the most fortunate of mortals. The prospect charm of their evening society. Emma esteemed of leaving her mother was the only drawback to her felicity; but Krasinski declared himself so much pleased with England, that he had no difficulty in promising to spend much of his time there. The ensuing spring, he said, must be spent in Poland; but he assured Mrs Edmonds that scarcely a year should pass without her receiving a visit from her daughter.

It appeared that Krasinski, whose intention to visit England had been intimated by Arthur to his mother and sister, duly arrived there, bringing with him a very flattering letter of introduction to the family, who were residing at Ambleside. As he wished to see the country, he took a lodging in the village, and being a very agreeable, accomplished man, was welcome visitor in the best houses there, and to none more welcome than to Mrs Edmonds and her daughter, the fair Emma, who, as her brother had justly said, was an exceedingly pretty girl, with the additional charm of a good fortune. Whether it was her beauty or her fortune, Everard said he did not know-perhaps it was both-but Krasinski had fallen violently in love with her, and had made her proposals which were In fact, the passion accepted without reluctance. appeared to be mutual, and the advantages of the match not inconsiderable. Count Stanislaus Krasinski a name not unknown, and the family stood high in public esteem. Though he spoke of his large estates as comparatively unprofitable, he appeared to be rich, and his personal qualifications and endowments undeniable. The title of Countess Stanislaus Krasinski was not unattractive to the young lady, and the great friendship Arthur entertained for the gentleman seemed to render the connection everything that was desirable. Mrs Edmonds wrote to Everard to apprise him of the engagement, and Emma appeared at the summit of happiness; the marriage, she said, was to take place soon, and they were to go to Rome, where Arthur and Krasinski had agreed to meet 'Fancy,' she said, and pass the winter together. 'how astonished and delighted Arthur will be when I am introduced to him as Countess Krasinski, for we cannot write and tell him, since we don't know where he is. We have had no letter since he left Venice. Arthur is a bad correspondent-he always was, and I suppose always will be.

were

This state of things had lasted several weeks, when a cloud suddenly darkened their sunshine, but whence it came, no one knew. Emma's beaming face paled visibly; her bright eyes grew heavy and dim; her step lost its spring; all day she strolled listlessly about the garden, with her head bowed down, and apparently buried in thought. Mrs Edmonds was silent, but looked anxious and perplexed; and Krasinski, who at first hovered about them, solicitous and assiduous, at length became silent also, and exhibited an air of extreme dissatisfaction. Still there was no word of the marriage being broken off or even postponed, and the period fixed for change, but nobody could obtain a clue to the mystery; it was fast approaching. Every one remarked the and, in fact, as it ultimately appeared, the only person who could have furnished one was Emma, and she seemed to be impenetrable on the subject. Mrs Edmonds wrote to Everard that she had questioned her in vain as to the cause of her depression, which appeared to date from a certain day, on which she and her lover, in the course of their morning excursion, though how this circumstance should have produced had been witnesses to a very distressing accident; They were walking on the banks of Windermere, such a sinister influence, she was at a loss to conceive. when a beautiful little girl, about six years old, was drowned. The agony of her mother, and her entreaties to Krasinski to save the infant, were most distressing, entreated him, he resisted his first impulse, which was and doubly so to Emma, since, although she too evidently to jump into the water, and suffered the child to perish unaided. Although he excused himself by saying, that the last time he was in the water, he had been seized with cramp, and nearly drowned, Emma did not recover her spirits all the afternoon. Mrs Edmonds thought this quite natural; and Krasinski expected to find her as usual on the following day; but when she appeared at breakfast, they were struck with her altered appearance. She said she had a headache, and had not rested well; but from that day, her health declined, and her whole demeanour changed.

Affairs being in this position, Mrs Edmonds wrote 'Some cause,' she said, to Everard, requesting him to try if he could extract the secret from his sister. there must be for so remarkable an alteration; and Krasinski's not having saved the child seems to me a wholly inadequate one.'

Upon this, the young man, who really thought it a pity his sister should lose so good a match for a caprice, sent her a letter, urging her to confide in him if she had anything to tell; and if not, entreating her to throw off this mysterious depression, which must be very displeasing to her lover. As for the accident that distressed you,' he said, 'you must remember that The bravest are sometimes men are not always masters of their actions, and we may be incapable of doing at one time what we could do easily at another. seized with a panic; and that you should sacrifice exaggerated sentiment on this subject, would be an your future happiness, and your lover's too, to an

absurdity that would render you perfectly ridiculous
in the eyes of the world; and, moreover, it would be
an act of unpardonable injustice towards him.'
To these representations, Everard received an answer,
which he now put into the hands of De Rosny.

A WOMAN'S THOUGHTS ABOUT WOMEN.

FEMALE HANDICRAFTS.

WHILE planning this paper, I chanced to read, in a late number of the North British Quarterly, one headed Employment of Women,' which expressed many of my ideas in forms so much clearer and better than any in which I can cast them, that I long hesitated whether it were worth my while to attempt to set them down here at all; but afterwards, seeing that this Journal may fall into many hands never laid upon the Quarterly, and that these Thoughts aim less at originality than usefulness, I determined in any case to say my say. It matters little when, or how, or by how many, truth is spoken, if only it be truth.

is anything under heaven to which we have a right to apply that word.

It seems to me that one of the chief elements of wrong in the class which I have distinguished as handicraftswomen, is the great but invidious distinction drawn between it and that of professional women. Many may repudiate this in theory; yet, practically, I ask lady-mothers, whether they would not rather take for daughters-in-law the poorest governess, the most penniless dependent, than a person in business'-milliner, dressmaker, shopwoman, &c.? As for a domestic servant—a cook, or even a lady's-maid-I am afraid a young man's choice of such an one would ruin him for ever in the eyes of respectability.

fool. Why should it be less creditable to make good Respectability-begging her pardon!-is often a great dresses than bad books? In what is it better to be at night a singing servant to an applauding or capriciously contemptuous public, than to wait on the said public in the daytime from behind the counter of shop or bazaar? I confess, I cannot see the mighty difference; for the question, it must be understood, is not of personal value or endowments, but of external calling.

In taking up the question of female handicrafts, in contradistinction to female professions, the first thing And here comes in the old warfare, commenced that strikes one is the largeness of the subject, and justly in the respect due to mind over matter, headhow very little one practically knows about it. Of work over hand-work, but deteriorated by custom necessity, the class is a silent class; it lives by its into a ridiculous and contemptible tyranny-the battle fingers rather than its brains; it cannot put its life between professions and trades. I shall not enter into into print. Sometimes a poet does this for it, and it here. Happily, men are now slowly waking up thrills millions with a Song of the Shirt; or a novelist-women more slowly still-to a perception of the presents us with some imaginary portrait-some Lettice truth, that honour is an intrinsic and not extrinsic Arnold, Susan Hopley, or Ruth, idealised more or less, itself one whit more 'respectable' than another; that that one means of livelihood is not of possession; it may be, yet sufficiently true to nature to give us credit or discredit can attach in no degree to the a passing interest in our shop-girls, sempstresses, and work done, but to the manner of doing it, and to the maid-servants, abstractedly, as a class; but of the individual who does it. individuals, of their modes of existence, feeling, and thought-of their sorrows and pleasures, accomplish- | ments and defects-we ladies' of the middle and upper ranks, especially those of us residing in great towns, know essentially nothing.

As I have said, the working-class is the silent class; and this, being a degree above the cottage visitations of Ladies Bountiful, or the legislation of Ten-HoursBill Committees in an enlightened British parliament, is the most silent of all. And it includes so many grades-from the West-end milliner, who dresses in silk every day, and is almost (often quite) a lady,' down to the wretched lodging-house slavey,' who seems to be less a woman than a mere working animal -that, viewing it, one shrinks back in awe of its vastness. What an enormous influence it must unconsciously exercise on society, this dumb multitude, which, behind counters, in work-rooms, garrets, and bazaars, or in service at fashionable, respectable, or barely decent houses, goes toiling, toiling on, from morning till night-often from night till morning -at anything and everything, just for daily bread and honesty!

But, on the other hand, a class that, as a class, lacks honour, has usually, some time or other, fallen short of deserving of it. In the class of handicraftswomen who stand to professional women as ordinary tradesmen to the gentlemen, one often finds great self-assertion and equivalent want of self-respect, painful servility or pitiable impertinence-in short, many of those faults which arise in a transition state of partial education, and uncertain, accidental refinement. Also, since a degree of both refinement and education is necessary to create a standard of moral conscientiousness, I believe this order of women is much more deficient than the one above it in that stern, steady uprightness which constitutes what we call elevation of character. Through the want of pride in their calling, and laxity or a slovenliness of principle in pursuing it, this class is always at war with that above it; which justly complains of the unconquerable faults and deficiencies which make patience the only virtue it can practise towards its inferiors. How amend this lamentable state of things? How lessen the infinite wrongs, errors, and sufferings of this mass of womanhood, out of which are glutted our Now, society recognises this fact-gets up early-church-yards, hospitals, prisons, penitentiaries; from closing movements, makes eloquent speeches in lawn which, more than from any other section of society, is sleeves or peers' broadcloth at Hanover Square Rooms, taken that pest and anguish of our streets, the or writes a letter to the Times, enlarging on the virtue of ordering court-dresses in time, so that one portion of Queen Victoria's female subjects may not be hurried into disease or death, or worse, in order that another portion may shine out, brilliant and beautiful, at Her Majesty's balls and drawing-rooms. All this is good; but it is only a drop in the bucket-a little oil cast on the top of the stream. The great tide of struggle and suffering flows on just the same; the surface may be slightly troubled, but the undercurrent seems impossible to be changed.

Did I say 'impossible?' No; I do not believe there

Eighty thousand women in one smile? Many writers of both sexes are now striving to answer this question; and many others, working more by their lives than their pens, are practically trying to solve the problem. All honour and success attend both workers and writers! Each in their vocation will spur on society to bestir itself, and, by the combination of popular feeling, to achieve in some large form a real, tangible, social good.

But in these Thoughts I would fain address individuals, and stimulate them to action. I want to

speak, not to society at large, for 'every body's business' is often nobody's business,' as we well know, but to each woman separately, in her personal character as employer or employed.

And, first, to the employer.

I am afraid it is a natural deficiency in the constitution of our sex that we are so hard to be taught justice. It certainly was a mistake to make that admirable virtue a female; and even then the allegorist seems to have found it necessary to bandage her eyes. No; kindliness, unselfishness, charity, come to us by nature: but I wish I could see more of my sisters learning and practising what is far more difficult and less attractive-common justice, especially towards one another.

because it is a temptation peculiar to ourselves; engendered by many a cruel domestic narrowness, many a grinding struggle to make ends meet,' such as men, in their grand picturesque pride and heedless magnificence, can rarely either feel or understand.

I do not here advance the argument, usually enforced by experience, that cheapness always comes dearest in the end, and that only a wealthy person can afford to make 'bargains,' because I wish to open the question-and leave it-on the far higher ground of moral justice. The celebrated sentiment of Benjamin Franklin, 'Honesty is the best policy,' always seemed to me a very unchristian mode of inculcating the said virtue.

In dealing with men, I think there is little fear that they will take care of themselves. That first law of nature,' self-preservation, is-doubtless for wise purposes-imprinted pretty strongly on the mind of the male sex. It is in transactions between women-and, above all, want of explicitness and decision, are and women that the difficulty lies. Therein-I put the question to the aggregate conscience of us allis it not, openly or secretly, our chief aim to get the largest possible amount of labour for the smallest possible price?

We do not mean any harm; we are only acting for the best-for our own benefit, and that of those nearest to us; and yet we are committing an act of injustice, the result of which fills slop-sellers' doors with starving sempstresses, and causes unlimited competition among incompetent milliners and dressmakers, while good workers are lamentably scarce and extravagantly dear. Of course! so long as one continually hears ladies say: 'Oh, I got such and such a thing almost for half-price-such a bargain!' or: 'Do you know I have found out such a cheap dressmaker!' I wonder if any of these ever reflected, without a wholesome blush, on the common-sense law of political economy, that neither labour nor material can possibly be got cheaply '-that is, below its average acknowledged cost, without somebody being cheated. For my part, these devotees to cheapness, when not victimswhich they frequently are in the long-run-always seem to me little better than genteel swindlers.

There is another lesser consideration, and yet not small either. Labour, unfairly remunerated, of necessity deteriorates in quality, and thereby lowers the standard of appreciation. Every time I pay a low price for an ill-fitting gown or an ugly tawdry bonnet -cheapness is usually tawdry-I am wronging not merely myself, but my employée, by encouraging careless work and bad taste, and by thus going in direct opposition to a rule from whence springs so much that is eclectic and beautiful in the female character, that whatever is worth doing at all is worth doing well.' If, on the contrary, I knowingly pay below its value for really good work, I am, as aforesaid, neither more nor less than a dishonest appropriator of other people's property-a swindler-a thief.

Another injustice, less patent, but equally harmful, is constantly committed by ladies-namely, the conducting of business relations in an unbusiness-like manner. Carelessness, irregularity, or delay in giving orders-needless absorption of time, which is money faults which no one dare complain of in a customer, but yet which result in the most cruel wrong. Perhaps the first quality in an employer is to know her own mind; the second, to be able to state it clearly, so as to avoid the possibility of mistake; and no blunder or irresolution on her part should ever be visited upon the person employed.

There is one injustice which I hardly need refer to, so nearly does it approach to actual crime. Any lady who wilfully postpones payment beyond a reasonable time, or in any careless way prefers her convenience to her duty, her pleasure to her honesty-who for one single day keeps one single person waiting for a debt which at all lies within her power to discharge-is a creature so below the level of true womanhood, that I would rather not speak of her.

And now, as to the class of the employed. It resolves itself into many branches, and, of late years, has started into many off-shoots of occupations, all valuable in their way, such as glass-painting, wood carving and engraving, watch-making, &c., &c.; but the main trunk-the root of women's manual employments-is undoubtedly the use of the needle.

There are few of us amateurs who have not a great reverence for that little dainty tool; such a wonderful brightener and consoler; our weapon of defence against slothfulness, weariness, and sad thoughts; our thrifty helper in poverty, our pleasant friend at all times. From the first 'cobbled-up' doll's frock-the first neat stitching for mother, or hemming of father's pocket-handkerchief-the first bit of sewing shyly done for some one who is to own the hand and all its duties-most of all, the first strange, delicious fairy work, sewed at diligently, in solemn faith and tender love, for the tiny creature yet unknown and unseen-oh! no one but ourselves can tell what the needle is to us women!

With all due respect for brains, I think women cannot be too early taught to respect likewise their own ten fingers.

Humiliating as the confession may be, I believe that, on the whole, men are less prone to this petty It is a grand thing to be a good needlewoman, even vice than women. You rarely find a gentleman in what they call across the border 'plain sewing,' beating down his tailor, cheapening his hosier, or and in Scotland, a 'white seam;' and any one who haggling with his groom over a few shillings of wages. ever tried to make a dress, knows well enough what Either his wider experience has enlarged his mind, or skill, patience, and ingenuity, nay, a certain kind of he has less time for bargaining, or he will not take the genius, is necessary to achieve any good result. Of trouble. It is among us, alas! that you see most all persons, the poor dressmaker is the last who ought instances of 'stinginess'-not the noble economy which to be grudged good payment. Instead of depreciating, can and does lessen its personal wants to the narrow- we should rather try to put into her a sincere followest rational limit, but tlie mean parsimony which tries ing of her art as an art-nay, a pleasant pride in it. to satisfy them below cost-price, and consequently always at somebody's expense, except its own. Against this crying sin-none the less a sin because often and I doubt if any branch of labour can be worthily masked as a virtue, and even corrupted from an pursued unless the labourer takes an interest in it original virtue-it becomes our bounden duty, as beyond the mere hire. I know a dressmaker who women, to protest with all our power. More especially, | evidently feels personally aggrieved when I decline to

The labour we delight in physics pain;

yield to her taste in costume; who never spares pains or patience to adorn her customers to the very best of her skill; and who, by her serious and simple belief in her own business, would half persuade you that the destinies of the whole civilised world hung on the noble but neglected art of mantua-making. I respect that woman!

Much has been said concerning justice from the employer to the employed; and as much might be said on the other side of the subject. For one to undertake more work than she can finish, to break her promises, tell white lies, be wasteful, unpunctual, is to be scarcely less dishonest to her employer than if she directly robbed her. The general want of conscientiousness among tradesfolk, does more to brand upon trade the old stigma of disgrace which the present generation is wisely endeavouring to efface, and to blacken and broaden the line, now fast vanishing, between tradesfolk and gentlefolk-more, tenfold, than all the narrow-minded pride of the most prejudiced aristocracy.

I would like to see working women-hand-labourers -take up their pride, and wield it with sense and courage; I would like to see them educating themselves, for education is the grand motive-power in the advancement of all classes. I do not mean mere book-learning, but that combination of mental, moral, and manual attainments, the mere longing for and appreciation of which, gives a higher tone to the whole being. And there are few conditions of life, whether it be passed at the counter, or over the needle-in the work-room, or at home-where an intelligent young woman has not some opportunity of gaining instruction; little enough it may be-from a book snatched up at rare intervals, a print-shop window glanced at, as she passes along the streeta silent observation and imitation of whatever seems most charming and refined in those, undoubtedly her superiors, with whom she may be thrown into contact; and though the advances to be thus made by her be small, yet, if she has a genuine desire for mental improvement, the true thirst after what is good and beautiful-the good being always the beautiful-for its own sake, there is little fear but that it will gradually attain its end.

There is one class, which, perhaps, from its household familiarity with that above it, has perhaps more opportunities than any for this gradual self-cultivation I mean the class of domestic servants; but these, though belonging to the ranks of women who live by hand-labour, form a body in many points so distinct, that I shall not dwell upon them here.

All I can ask is—something different from the usual cry of elevating the working-classes-whether it be not possible to arouse in them the desire to elevate themselves? Every growth of nature begins less in the external force applied than the vital principle asserting itself within. It is the undercurrent that helps to break up the ice; the sap, as well as the sunshine, that brings out the green leaves of spring. I doubt if any class can be really elevated, unless it has first indicated the power to raise itself; and the first thing to make it worthy of respect is, to teach it to respect

itself.

'In all labour there is profit'-ay, and honour too, if the toilers could but recognise it; if the large talk now current about the dignity of labour' could only be reduced to practice; if, to begin at the beginning, we each could but persuade the handful of young persons immediately around us and under our influence, that to make an elegant dress or pretty bonnet-nay, even

to cook a good dinner, or take pride in a neatly kept house, is a right creditable, womanly thing in itself, quite distinct from the profit accruing from it. Also, since hope is the mainspring of excellence, as well as happiness, in any calling, let it be impressed on every

one that her future lies, spiritually as well as literally, in her own hands.

Seldom, with the commonest shadow of a chance to start with, will a real good worker fail to find employment; seldom, indeed, with diligence, industry, civility, and punctuality, will a person of even moderate skill lack customers. Worth of any kind is rare enough in the world for most people to be thankful to get itand keep it too. In these days, the chief difficulty seems to consist, not in the acknowledgment of merit, but the finding of any merit that is worth acknowledging-above all, any merit that has the sense and consistency to acknowledge and have faith in itself, and to trust in its own power of upholding itself afloat in the very stormiest billows of the tempestuous world; assured with worthy old Milton, that

If virtue feeble were,

Heaven itself would stoop to her.

But I am pulled down from this Utopia of female handicrafts by the distant half-smothered laughter of my two maid-servants, going cheerily to their bed through the silent house; and by the recollection that I myself must be up early, as my new sempstress is coming to-morrow. Well, she shall be kindly treated, have plenty of food and drink, light and fire; and though I shall be stern and remorseless as fate respecting the quality of her work, I shall give her plenty of time to do it in. No more will be expected from her than her capabilities seem to allow and her word promised; still, there will be no bating an inch of that: it would be unfair both to herself and me. In fact, the very reason I took her was from her honest look and downright sayings. Ma'am, if you can't wait, or know anybody_better, don't employ me; but, ma'am, when I say I'll come, I always do.'-(P. S. She didn't!!)

Honest woman! If she turns out fairly, so much the better for us both, in the future, as to gowns and crown-pieces. If she does not, I shall at least enjoy the satisfaction of having done unto her as, in her place, I would like others to do unto me-which simple axiom expresses and includes all I have been writing on this subject.

AN EARLY WORKER AT THE ROCKS. IN 1793, there appeared at Glasgow a respectablelooking octavo volume, entitled The History of Rutherglen and East Kilbride. The title bore that the book was published with a view to promote the study of antiquity and natural history. It is now a scarce volume, and few know anything about it. The district to which it refers is part of that coal and iron field which now pours into the city of Glasgow such a stream of wealth. In 1793, no one dreamt of its natural richness; iron-smelting was either not practised at all, or only on the most trifling scale; and the researches of modern geology were yet wholly in the future. Yet this volume contains correct and minute accounts of the minerals of the district, as well as of the fossils found in the carboniferous strata, with exact representations in copper-plates of the latter, being, it is believed, the earliest efforts in Scotland to depict these objects. You may here see the equiseta, lepidodendra, sigillariæ, and ferns of the coal, treatise. The corals, encrinites, univalves, and bivalves as correctly delineated as in any recent geological of the formation are presented in great variety, all correctly named according to the nomenclature of that day, which, however, is considerably different from that now in vogue. There are also teeth and spines of fishes, all set down as teeth by the author, with