women's ways; it is women only who are described as pushing through every obstacle, so that they may throw themselves at the feet of the sovereign to beg for mercy to the condemned. The sum of all the great actions formally related of queens; of mothers, daughters, and wives, in reference to political prisoners, bears little comparison, after all, with what has been done, and is done every day, in our midst, by good women, privately, for those who need and deserve quite as much. They penetrate the most dismal abodes, they carry comfort where before all was sadness: men, no doubt, adventure upon the same errand—there are plenty of certificates of their friendly visitings of the homes of the poor and unfortunate-but it is woman only who is able to dive into the inmost trouble and sorrow, who knows how to deal with the last bitterness of affliction, and who succeeds. She too it is who most frequently stands by when the cold hand, no longer dreaded, brings to a welcome end griefs incurable before. In the sight of God there are more Sisters of Mercy than those who conventionally bear the name. They prove to the world that the good among their sex are as multiform as nationality, education, habits of mind, social rank, creed, and private faith (which is often a long way ahead of creeds and "articles") can possibly render human beings; they are the guarantee at the same moment that while women exist, mercy will for ever keep dropping, "as the gentle rain from heaven, Upon the place beneath." The fact is interesting in the abstract. It supplies a consideration also of the profoundest practical importance, serving as an assurance to all who distrust their ability to be useful, that to accomplish good work needs no rare or local qualification. The list of splendid characters among those who are distinguished peculiarly by the name of the Sisters will compare with that of the noblest corporation to be found among men. It lengthens perhaps, as regards visible dimensions, not so much during their lifetimes as through the memorials which come to hand respecting those who have departed; for while the good which men effect is from its very nature more heard of while they are yet among us, women's good deeds are published more usually in sweet echoes when they are gone. One of the most remarkable women of modern times, as a ministrator of kindness and charity, was La Sœur Rosalie. Her life, spent from youth to extreme old age in one of the lowest quarters of Paris, where she died in 1855, was one continuous and supreme victory, through sheer force of Christian love, over every form of human suffering a woman can grapple with. Where men would have quailed, or been utterly repulsed, she simply and calmly took her own old accustomed course, and never failed.1 Of similar fabric, though her powers were exercised in a very different manner and direction, was our own Mary Carpenter, whose Memoirs have just been published, and whose lifelong labours are commemorated in a beautiful white marble slab in Bristol Cathedral. To select names of co-workers with these two must almost of necessity have a look of invidiousness; none, however, are better deserving of remembrance-the particular work of each again distinct-than Florence Nightingale and Dorothy Wyndlow Pattison, the "Sister Dora" of the poor of Walsall. So gracious and penetrative was the influence acquired by Miss Pattison over the rough men and women nursed in the hospital under her control, that when she died, November 1878, her remains were followed to the grave by a concourse such as attends princesses. To learn how much can be accomplished even when the hindrances seem at first insuperable, it is needful only to read the life of the poor Yarmouth dressmaker, Sarah Martin, who gave her whole soul to the miserable prisoners in what at the time when she commenced her ministrations (1819) was the most miserable of gaols.2 In illustration of the same we have the quite new and most interesting little volume by Miss Ellice Hopkins, "Work amongst Working Men," the special effort being the brave and persevering one of that of lady-preacher. The secret of woman's power and success in regard to the relief of trouble among the afflicted poor lies, not where most other secrets of force and efficacy have their stronghold-in the ascendency of intellect but in the simple authority of virtue. The sweet and even operation of a tender and steadfast spirit of charity necessarily carries all before it. Woman wins her way also by showing, what she cannot help, that her sole object is to assuage and succour, leaving upon the threshold all that is not pure and simple goodwill. With men, to do so is difficult. Men go by statute; they are upholders of the law, which demands obedience to the letter, enforces the application of it, and insists always on technical justice. Contrariwise, women prefer equity, the justice which follows the dictates of nature, is always more Christian in essence, more liberal and magnanimous; therefore better adapted for achieving noble ends. When men in this department of 1 In default of the actual "Memoirs" of this marvellous woman, published in Paris, see Vignettes, Twelve Biographical Sketches." By Bessie Rayner Parkes. 1866. 66 2 Sarah Martin's almost incredible labours, pursued, perhaps, in imitation of the celebrated Mrs. Fry, were originally made known to the public by the Edinburgh Review. See for a full record "The Book of Noble Englishwomen," chap. xxv. Sarah Martin died in 1842, working to the last moment. work are exceptionally successful, it is because, as individuals, they have feminine dispositions. Equity, whatever may be claimed on behalf of "justice" as a rule of life, is the substratum of all the noblest natures, whether male or female. It is worthy of note also that one of the most excellent characteristics alike of La Sœur Rosalie and of Mary Carpenter was, that while eminently religious, they never lapsed into any of the weaknesses of sectarianism. To the very end of their days they preserved the breadth and catholicity of soul which is always found where the New Testament is abided by, and which daily sustains itself by quiet repetition, lesson-wise, of the Divine words, "Other sheep I have, which are not of this fold." It is one of woman's aptitudes to act after the self-same manner at home, and here again she shows how many things there are which, Shakspere and Handel notwithstanding, she can do better than her "brother." Very grand, no doubt, would be the spectacle of her splendid and insatiable impulse towards loving-kindness, and the gift of solace and sympathy, were it poured out purely and exclusively upon the miscellaneous poor, the fatherless and the bereaved among strangers. A charm even greater than that which pertains to her semi-public work attaches to that accomplished at her own fireside. In truth, were it not seen here, it would be seen nowhere. "Domestic duties," conventionally so called, are a different thing. These we do not just now refer to, the more particularly because in such of them as require intelligence and skill, man has competed with woman successfully, which implies, in turn, that skilled labour can be got for money, the greatest of purchasers, but incapable after all of buying the best of things. How wonderful, in private life, is the readiness with which women, after a quiet spiral manner peculiarly their own, get down into the very nucleus of a man's troubles and difficulties ! Once there, they strive with all their strength to help him out, and very generally, though the valley may be long and the shadows dark, find for him some releasing path over the hills. If unable to accomplish all they desire, they still unfold an admirable capacity for making trouble look less cruel, and for directing men's eyes to the "silver lining "—that beautiful prospect which Milton gives it to the lady to discern, so as to teach us whose in particular is the seeing eye : "Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud Turn forth her silver lining to the night? Her desires accomplished, women again show that they excel man in regard to the kind of recompense they require. This is neither fee nor reward, nor honour, nor glory. Woman is content if her work succeeds and is appreciated, putting away from herself all the praise, satisfied to have given comfort to those she cares for, and abundantly happy in the sense of it. Women understand instinctively, while men learn only by degrees, and many men never learn at all, that the grand secret of happiness in human life consists in keeping the heart busy for others. Very glorious is the privilege of being able to be the cause of happiness in others, especially when they are beloved. Men go shares in it, but pre-eminently it is woman's, and being thus endowed, were a census possible, it would probably be found that, taking one with another, there are more happy women in the world than happy men. Men, naturally more selfish than women, love in order to be happy; women, on the other hand, are happy because they love. Whether in man or woman, the loftiest happiness assuredly always consists in giving others, in all considerations, the paramount place. No action can possibly be either amiable or comely that has self and self-interest for its pivot and mainspring. Nothing that the world accounts estimable really becomes so, in any human being, until it has been made the direct instrument of doing good to a fellow-creature. If the happiness that may be personally deemed the highest, is not quite realized, the unselfish at all events have for their own that which is next best-the sweet solace which comes of the consciousness of having done their part faithfully. The great principle just set forth is that which assures happiness to unmarried women. For to say, as some have said, that a woman cannot be happy until she becomes a wife and mother, is pure nonsense. Women are designed, by the goodness of God, not merely to tend husbands, and to bear children. They are contrived so as to be able to mitigate every species of human distress: many human sufferings come far more distinctly before the unmarried woman than before the married, or are more accessible to her, because of her more ample leisure and opportunities; and in dealing with these, her private sense of happiness is in no degree unworthy of comparison with that of the harassed mother of boys and girls. What more lovable sight is there in the world than that of the maiden sister who acts as nurse when there is sickness, and who will faithfully stay for long hours beside the bed of death; or than that of the middle-aged unmarried daughter who keeps house for an aged and feeble father, who soothes his declining years, overflowing with all dutiful affections, prays for him, and would lay down her life for him? Is it nothing either to be the kind old aunt, who when discord creeps into the family, restores amity and peace; and who is made the confidante of youthful troubles that are told to no other living creature? It is such women who, not far subordinately to wives and mothers, show that love is no mere confection of "lily petals and doves' feathers." Ah, how many mistakes are made over the meaning of that little word! Many men, women also, perhaps, sometimes, think it is "love" when they are simply enamoured of certain emotions, the idle indulgence of which is a pretty and exciting amusement. Others, very foolish-and here, perhaps, most especially young women who have not been disciplined under sound and healthy principles of Education-think that love is all tumult, a wild and tempestuous enthusiasm that can be conscious of only two conditions, "bliss " and utter despair. The prime characteristic of a pure and substantial affection is not found in uproar but in tranquillity. It thinks not in the least of its own personal emoluments, but is sedulous in rendering service to the beloved. It must be more, too, than unselfish. Not much is to be thought of any so-called love that is not intrinsically a self-denying one. Beautiful again is the sight of the augmentation, never changing to decline, as years advance, of benevolent desire in the hearts of kind and good unmarried women. When women of noble substance no longer have the prospect of living in the affections of one, and one only, i.e. in the affections of a husband, they turn round, and true to their feminine proneness to extremes, strive, in sweet revenge, to live in the affections of all. Disappointed hopes may bring sadness to the individual, but looked at searchingly-and this is true of men as well as of women-it will generally be found that under Providence the world collectively is a gainer thereby. Nothing that has ever had in it a heaven-sent faculty for blessing, is ever let die unfruitfully. Unmarried women, "old maids," are very often spoken of under the general appellation of "cross." A cross old maid, rely upon it, is a selfish one, and had she been married, would have been to her unlucky partner in life no treasure. If a true woman, the old maid cannot possibly be a cross one. A distinction of course is to be drawn between people, men as well as women, who are rendered irritable, perhaps peevish, by some wearying, never-ending chronic ailment, and those who enjoy good health, and are cross nevertheless. Crossness, legitimately so called, is the unhappy condition which results from absence of generous impulses in the heart, and it is by no means prescribed by nature that an old maid shall be destitute of these; or having had them in youth, that she should lose them after forty, an era in one's existence unquestionably rather trying, |