tianity, extending from that which is true to that which is utterly false; and every degree must have its proportionate reward. Thus, the man who is so fortunate as to have been born in a Christian community, and therefore by education is prepared to tacitly admit the truth of Christian Revelation, who reads his Bible habitually, attends church regularly, listens respectfully to Christian discourse, and deports himself becomingly, as a Christian should one day in seven; but, during the other six, lives as though in another world,—as though he had no soul that was interested in a future life,—devoting his whole energies and giving his every thought to the prosecuting of schemes that relate only to this, such a man may be a Christian and receive his reward; but will not his account be very meagre?

Neither is he the true Christian who makes actual profession of devotedness to Christ; who warns his neighbor often and with startling emphasis; who sees many a mote in his brother's eye, but is conscious of none in his own; but who, withal, pursues a course of action entirely inconsistent with Christ's golden, fundamental law; who oppresses the poor, the unfortunate laborer, turning him houseless upon the cold world when failing to meet his engagements; who exacts the last farthing of the widow's mite; who inhumanely oppresses the youthful orphan in his charge, and denies him the coveted pleasures and recreations due to his years, in their stead overtaxing his frail system and stiffening and deforming his young limbs. with constant toil! O why call such a man a Christian? Yet he is even so reckoned, and held in much esteem by his insensible brethren. He bas yet to learn the very rudiments of Christianity! Even the poor heathen might teach him better things! He is a shame and a reproach to the sect that communes with him,and until he has greatly changed cannot receive a very large reward in Heaven.

Nor is he a true Christian, who, gifted with intellect that has been prepared by years of toil to teach his less fortunate, less educated brethren the way to Life, wastes too large a portion of the time which he has consecrated to his Master's cause, in argument and theory; which, in view of the simplicity of the only

essential and important Christian precepts, are entirely unnecessary, and only serve to confuse and distract the mind from its real duties, and the actual beauties of the Christian religion; engaging in controversies and disputations concerning abstruse theories and blind dogmas that in no wise concern the real purpose of Christ's mission, and which he the Master-evidently cannot regard with complacency, and which cannot find favor in his sight. No more is he, who, when feeding his flock with divine nourishment, does so cater to his own vanity and ambitious conceits as to place the bread of life too high,-beyond the reach of the humbler portion of his followers, who cannot feed from a "high crib," but like the simple freedman of a southern congregation, must be accommodated with a low one. Such men can hardly expect to be classed with true Christians, inasmuch as that they are not true to the spirit of Christ's teachings, and will not be likely to receive the cordial greeting,-" Well done, thou good and faithful servant!" Yet, will they have their reward, proportionate to their real service.

And again, are they true Christians who affect to follow with scrupulous exactness in the course which seemeth to them to lead Heavenward, and yet fail to understand the great and all-essential principle of brotherly love? Who would make their own calling sure, though they who walk apart should go unwittingly down to endless perdition? Who, glorifying themselves, condescend not to contaminate their righteousness with the presence in council of those more liberal, more Christian minds, who ardently long for the salvation of all men, and who truly believe that God is good and that Christ's sacrifice shall avail, even for the full accomplishment of the purpose for which it was so freely offered? No men can justly claim to be true Christians while wanting in that greatest of all virtues, charity. Let them not vainly imagine themselves perfect, until they have read once more and noted well, the words of Paul in respect to this virtue,charity.

Who then, indeed, are true Christians? Thus strictly tested, the number is small, to be sure, when compared with the swelling ranks that flock around the standard with

protestations of love! The number is small, though, it may be, quite as large as could be expected when we consider man's imperfections and his liability to err. If men were created perfect, then indeed there would have been no sin, no suffering, no Saviour. But as God has created men imperfect, and as he is a just God, he will not require impossibilities of them. He requireth of each He requireth of each only as he has given to each, and therefore there must be different degrees of Christianity, different views in regard to it. But the fundamental principles of Christianity, the all essential elements, are too plain to be mistaken; and he who, possess ing the opportunity and fully aware of their importance, fails to inform himself in regard to them, and fails to apply them in his intercourse with men, deserves censure, to say the least. And it is strange, to me, that the one sect who do, as a body, the most truly preach and practice the great Christian virtues, should be the one most shunned by all other sects of professing Christians. Alas, the beam! It has been so long imbedded that it has become difficult to remove it. It has long ceased to offend, and has been unconsciously forgotten.

But the true Christians, and they are distributed among all sects who profess to follow Christ, are they who truly love God with all their hearts, and from the very abundance of that love joyfully accept Christ as their dear elder brother, and go about doing good, emulating him and striving to be like him, in relieving the wants of their fellow-men, brothers all. Sectarianism is not their forte; Christ is their guide; his word the fountain of their knowledge; his simple truths are burned into their hearts; they carry peace in their souls, content upon their brows, and their presence gladdens wherever they enter. They are a blessing to the world, the salt of the earth the preserving element of mankind. Their presence renders Sodom inhabitable, and reflects a halo of light even in the outcast's home, down in the very depths of iniquity. They vaunt not; they are not puffed up; they do good for the sake of humanity, and that they may show their appreciation of God's goodness: not for the applause of men, or from other unchristian motives. They are, indeed, followers of Christ-true Christians!

ONE SETTLEMENT OF A VEXED QUESTION.

66

BY SARAH L. JOY.

HAT can women do for a livelihood, except teach, sew, or attend in a store?" has been asked so often that it has assumed the form of a conundrum, and the world, instead of putting itself to work to find the proper solution, has quietly folded its hands, lazily shut its eyes, and given the whole thing up.

But the matter will not be treated so cavalierly. It demands attention, and finding that it cannot get it for all its clamoring, has commenced righting itself. Nothing like action to bring indifference to its feet! You may fire whole broadsides of pulpit tirades and newspaper arguments into it without the least perceptible result, but once show that you are thoroughly in earnest — that you mean to do as well as to talk-and you have accomplished half the battle.

The world is naturally conservative; it hates innovations. People only become radical through education and stern experience. And so it comes to pass, very naturally, it seems, that no reform is gained without a severe struggle. There is a dread of consequences, but what particular one, the most apprehensive could not tell. It is a nameless fear that attends any attempt to penetrate the unknown, and bring to light the hidden things of the world.

On no subject has there been so much expressed as on the question of the extension of woman's labor. It has long been acknowledged that there were more women who must work than there were places for, and it was a self-evident fact that something ought to be done. But what should it be? There seemed to be no answer to the question. For awhile there was nothing but teaching and sewing, and the market was flooded with teachers and sempstresses, until the supply greatly exceeded the demand, and some other avenue must open for this large sisterhood of waiting women, or there remained for them only starvation, or that other dreadful alternative which women instinctively shrink from, and enter only when they find that they are fighting against such fearful odds, that the battle is going against them.

It became a dire extremity. There was

ION 221

must come first, the talk must follow. And so it came about that this army of women, strong in their very helplessness, beseiged the doors of the dry-goods and fancy stores, and carrying these citadels, took their places behind the counters, and filled very acceptably the places that had been so long shut to them. Of course there was a great hue and cry raised about it. There was a great deal of nonsensical talk about women usurping the places of men, and an incredible amount of sentimental twaddle about unsexing themselves, and losing delicacy, which the more practically-inclined expressed thus, "rubbing the down from the soft peach," "the dew from youth's sweet freshness," &c., -very pretty to read as far as mere sound is concerned, but perfectly meaningless when you come to consider the sense.

But the step was taken, and all the talk came too late. Gradually Mrs. Grundy grew used to the new state of affairs, and now in the majority of the retail stores female clerks are employed, and nothing is said about their being unsexed, nor are they supposed to be any the less feminine, because they measure their sisters for hoop-skirts and corsets, instead of leaving it for one of the stronger sex to do. So far, so good, but still there was much to be done-more women to be provided for. The stores could not take them all any more than could the schools and sewing shops. That sponge was full already, and there must be anot 'er absorb

ent.

One day somebody made the brilliant discovery that women could write quite legibly, and that by dint of great perseverance and deep study some of them might find out that two and one did make three. Perhaps, if they were properly trained, they might learn even a little more; so a girl was employed as cashier in a store. Considering her sex, she did very well, and as her services could be obtained at about one-half or one-third the rate a man would have expected to receive who occupied the same situation, she was retained, and by-and-by other girls were found in similar situations. From that to regular book-keeping was but a step, and one that was soon taken. A department for girls was opened in the Com

The printing offices called to them," come in," and hundreds flocked there, but there was not room for all. The government offices discovered that women made good clerks, lawyers discovered that they made good copyists. Door after door swung open to let them in, still numbers remained unhelped, uncared for. A few of these,-yes, many of them-possessed more than ordinary abilities, and these entered the wide fields of art, science and literature. The world has learned through Harriet Hosmer and Rosa Bonheur what woman may do in sculpture and painting. Other women are following in their footsteps, and impressing the lesson deeper on the learner's mind. Jenny Lind, Patti, and dearest of all, our Adelaide Phillips, have shown what they can accomplish in music. Maria Mitchell and Mary Somerville have demonstrated the fact that Science has no partial love for the race, but opens her stores to daughters as well as sons. Anna Dickenson and Mrs. Livermore have proved that the fire from the altar touches women's

lips alike with men's. Shall any say women are never poets since the singing of Elizabeth Browning? Shall they be denied the gift of story-telling since so many of them prove what they can do? Shall any dare affirm they are neither logical nor witty after Julia Ward Howe and Gail Hamilton?" By their fruits ye shall know them?"

So far women have worked out these prob. lens for themselves. In sheer desperation they have done with a will what their hands have found to do, and once gaining a hold, they have clung with tenacity. There has been no shaking them off. Possessed of certain powers and inclinations, they have come to believe that they were given them for some purpose, that they mean something. Slowly the idea is dawning upon them that God never intended there should be any waste material in His universe. They all begin counting up their talents, and fold up their napkins as useless. "Do what we can with what we have," is the maxim, and already their work is beginning to tell. Some

few have found their way into the ministry, hearing surely the voice of God calling to their souls," Come, labor in my vineyard." Many have entered the medical profession, knowing as surely that the gift of healing is theirs. In the West women are being admitted to the legal profession, and very grave "special pleaders" they make, according to all accounts. A few have gone out of their sphere so far as to become newspaper reporters, and like bright little Nellie Huchinson of the New York Tribune, have determined a right to labor in this field, success always determining right. Knowing what they can do, they have done it, usually in the face of great opposition from those who believe in running perpetually in the same

grooves.

But eyes are opening, and the visions are becoming cleared. The world sees the possibilities for its women. It contrasts the independent with the dependent ones. It sees the grandeur, the beauty, the usefulness of one life standing in its perfectness beside the little, the deformity, and the aimlessness of the other. It sees womanhood becoming more womanly, and looks around for the cause that produces the effect, and it at last acknowledges broader opportunities and wider possibilities, broader and deeper women's lives.

Women see this, and anxious to help, begin to say, "What can we do? how can we assist the good work? We see what has been done, we see that there still remains other things to do." Men may say women do not care for one another, that they are so absorbed in their own selfish pleasures, they have no time for another's misery. We wish to show them they are very, very wrong. We do care for one auother-let us prove to them we do. Sisters, what can we do to show our interest and care for you?" And back comes the answer, "Help us to live.' Out from the city streets comes the piteous cry, and pale faces lift up pleading eyes, and wasted hands are stretched toward you. The Chief of Police showed you that fearful Saturday not many weeks ago, where your help was needed. Could anything be sadder than the utter helplessness and desolation of these poor creatures! Is anything anywhere written more pathetic than the remark one

--

of them made to Mr. Murray when he visited them at the station-house It's the first kind word I've had spoken to me since I commenced to go down." God help her, and all the rest like her. Don't let them say that again. They cry to you from their depths, "Oh, my sisters, help us to live! lift us from the pit where selfishness has placed us, and let us begin our lives again. Like the leper, we are doomed to veil our faces from your clear and eyes, cry 'unclean, unelean.' You stand so far above us in your white purity that we cannot touch even the hem of your garments, and when we would struggle up a little higher, we are bidden down again, lest our merest touch defile you. For you life holds everything, for us nothing. Give to us out of your abundance, for oh, sisters, we are starving!"

Shall men taunt say, “You keep Already women They are showing

Shail they cry in vain? us with indifference, and them down to this level?" are answering this taunt. just how much they care. Their hearts are going out in sympathy, and their hands are not idle. One woman alone in New York has done wonders-a tiny, blue-eyed blonde, delicate and fragile, looking as if the least wind of adversity would break her like a lily. Yet those little hands have borne up many and many a woman, pulled her from the very whirlpool of siu, and set her on her feet again. Those womanly shoulders have borne the burden of many a sad life, and still the good work goes on. Many will rise up some day and bless the name of Eleanor Thick.

Other women are working, and through their labors will come the solution of the vexed question, "How are women to live." Every day sees it nearer. Already a new idea is gaining ground amongst us, and the Woman's Club of this city has set a ball rolling that will grow larger and larger with every revolution. It has offered one solution which bids fair to be a satisfactory one. concerning which more will be said in course of time. It is so extensive that it requires a chapter of its own, and it shall have it. That the whole thing will be eventually righted is morally certain. God does his work completely, and leaves no loose threads of circumstance hanging from the web of any hu

man life. He leads naturally up to events, ! and we may feel perfectly secure in leaving everything in His hands, knowing that He orders all things for the best and for the good of those who love Him.

W

NO FATHER.

BY MRS. P. W. GILLETTE.

HAT do those people do who have no Father? Not those who have folded the hands that were full of blessings, and straightened the quiet feet, and kissed into soft slumber the dear eyes so soon to be awakened in the morning of the Resurrection by the dear kisses of the angels — oh, no, not these; these have fathers still, waiting, it may be, close by the beautiful gates, but waiting patiently until "they come." Not these, but those wise-headed people who never had any Father in Heaven to watch over the father upon the earth,-those people who believe in God, and see in him the great, boundless ocean of vegetable, and mineral, and animal and human life-the great Source of all irrevocable natural Law, unchangeable and forever the same-but know him not as the Father, with that great, throbbing, tender love, full always of infinite mercy and justice? Where do they go when some great sorrow overtakes them when the knowledge of human weakness and human passion and human vengeance, and scorn and injustice, sweeps over them like some wild simoon? The pastures and the woodlands yield fragrant pillows to weary heads, the brooks breathe lulling songs to saddened hearts; but with no Father's love behind them, is this the all of comfort or of strength? I feebly confess, it is a mystery. When they are so weary, no Heavenly Father's hand to reach down and clasp their trembling fingers; when some great blow is struck, and they go tottering down beneath it, no Heavenly Father's arms to wind around them and lift them up; when life's daily annoyances gather into a tempest of confusion, no Father in Heaven to whisper, "Peace-be still;" and when the night comes the night, to be broken, perhaps, with watchfulness, anxiety and terror-no tender Father's heart in which they may be folded to rest!

--

MY

FOX HUNTING.

BY MRS. E. LOUISE MATHER.

66

Y subject is rather a new one, even for my rambling pen, but still it is a fact well established that on Saturday morning, October 31st., my better half gave unto "mine own familiar friend and myself" an invitation to go fox-hunting, which invitation we accepted, and were soon armed and equipped," and riding off in the direction of one of his old hunting-grounds. Our course was a southerly one, down a pleasant hill and over two bridges, where two of the many brooks in the vicinity were babbling most cheerily in the early morn. The trees had taken on their autumn livery by the roadside, and we passed, at intervals, by farmhouses, and we saw a graveyard on a beautiful hill, at some distance from any habitation, where several trees shaded the last resting-place of many weary sleepers, doubtless, who laid by the conflicts and cares of earth gladly.

Oh, what a sense of renewed courage and hope we experienced in the bracing air of that early morn! Soon the clear waters of Selden's Cove gleamed upon our sight, and we left our Rosinante in a safe place, and proceeded to the hunting-ground on Selden's Neck, a place enclosed between the Cove and Connecticut River, and embracing a variety of beautiful scenery. With directions for us to proceed directly to "the Point,” we were left with the parting injunction to look out sharply for the fox which he expected to scare up," and to be silent. Whether we obeyed this last request literally "deponent saith not," but we looked out for the fox, which, alas! never came. To the Point, then, we wended our way, and were well repaid for so doing. On an eminence overlooking the river and cove at their junction, we sat down to enjoy the beautiful prospect in the early part of the day, and we seemed to have left earth's cares behind us, and were revelling in the abode of freedom, rest and beauty. Soon there came direction number two from head-quarters, and accordingly we went along by ledges of rock which overlooked deep ravines, and where the trees were overhung by masses of soft, light, grey moss, of which we took some home as tro