This description was too graphic and terse for me to be mistaken; such a female had accosted me some time before, so that I could put the impish vagrant on the right track.

The children of tramps seldom take any of the troubles of childhood. Probably they suffer a little from hot gums when they are teething, but they don't trouble their mothers, and they have a superabundance of hard crusts to help them along. As for measles or whooping-cough, I cannot recall a single case where I noticed the symptoms, so I suppose, if one does fall ill on the march, that the mother leaves the patient behind to the care of the nurses provided by society and straightway forgets his or her existence. The children scramble on through their young life, until, like the birds, they pair off, independent of all ties, living, as the true savage lives, only for themselves.

I may be mistaken, and yet from my own experience of the real tramp, which I have tried to present to you, there is not, and never will be, any scheme strong enough to change his

nature from what it is into that of a useful member of society. Philanthropists have tried to make good citizens out of the aborigines of Australia and have universally failed. The aboriginal has perished before his reformation had advanced beyond the initiatory stages, and the same may be said of the tramp. He may be confined within four walls until his health gives way, but he will never take to honest labour, nor be induced to quit his wandering and lazy mode of life. It is the same with children of the first generation. They may be forced to learn reading and writing, accomplishments which they will afterwards utilise in the form of begging letters; but like the aborigines of Australia they will return to their old ways so soon as they can get free, no matter what advantages they throw aside to get once again into their rags. There is apparently a fascination about rags and the life that goes with them which, once tasted, cannot be resisted.

HUME NISBET.

""TWERE well for mortals otherwhence to raise children, and for there to be no women; so had there been no evil to mankind." In these days of little Latin and less Greek no apology is needed for quoting in the vernacular the words of Euripides, "Euripides, the tender, with his droppings of warm tears."

Jason spoke in his wrath; his first wife objected to be supplemented by a younger rival, and he jumped to the conclusion that all women were equally unreasonable. It never occurred to poet or people that there was another and simpler alternative; that the Lords of Creation should be eliminated from mankind and the gentler sex left in possession of the stage.

Astronomers sometimes entertain us by speculating what would have been the consequence to our planet, had our golden sun been red like Aldebaran or green like some sister star. It might be equally profitable to consider what would happen if at some distant date the Boers, not content with driving the English into the sea, as they once threatened, should overcome their horror of salt-water and, after reducing England to subjection, should deport our male population in a body to Kerguelen's Land, or some equally uninteresting portion of the Antarctic Ocean. We all remember the sad results that followed when the Greek husbands lingered too long around Ilium, or later when the Roman hosts were detained outside the walls of Ardea. Would our wives and

daughters yield themselves up to insolence and wine after the manner of the Ladies Tarquin, or would they spend their spinsterhood at the distaff like the virtuous but unhappy Lucrece? No man will hesitate for a moment what to reply. There would be no banqueting, no looking upon the wine when it was red. Late dinners would be at once abolished and there would be an abnormal rise in the price of eggs. Your natural woman detests order in her meals. Breakfast in bed, lunch with her hat on, tea out of doors, but, above all, an egg in the drawingroom for dinner; these are her simple desires. It is not that she loves simplicity so much, but orderliness is connected in her mind with the management of servants and picnicking suggests emancipation. Men who spend their lives in the office working for daily bread have little notion of the tireless devotion and unceasing worry that makes things go so smoothly at home. It is one thing to come back weary and appreciate the excellence of parlourmaid and cook; it is quite another to beard those worthies daily in their sanctum and insist upon the display of that excellence.

The ill-used Medea, to return for a moment to our original illustration, in a passage whose incisiveness the immortal Mrs. Caudle herself might have envied, repudiated with indignation the suggestion that a matron's life was a life of ease. She would rather three times face the spear on the battle-field than once endure a

woman's lot at home. It is doubtful whether she over-estimated her case. We are not of those who speak slight ingly of villainous saltpetre, nor do we undervalue the efficacy of a directed torpedo; but if we were offered the choice between a month in the stokehole of a Russian manof-war or a fortnight under the artillery of the servants' hall, we should think twice before deciding which was the kindlier fate.

"You know, my love, I never interfere with your household affairs, but I should be glad if you would suggest to Jane that I don't like ringing so often for my boots," or, more testily, "I wish to heaven, Clara, you'd tell that maid of yours to attend to her business and answer the bell." These contributions to the domestic economy the most pusillanimous husband is not afraid to make. But when it comes to a personal demonstration on the side of order, or a practical suggestion in the interests of efficiency, the predominant partner usually seeks safety in inglorious flight. And let it be remembered that this perfection of detail is not in itself dear to the female heart. Notice the difference of behaviour in man and woman on receiving a parcel. He, secretive by nature, puts it away for a while out of sight, and when he opens it folds paper and string into neat little bundles. She, all haste to examine her treasure, which is probably some domestic flannel bought an hour before, flings paper and string on the floor, where they remain undisturbed. It never occurs to her that the room is less comfortable on that account and when she upbraids the housemaid next morning for not removing them, it is neglect of duty, not untidiness, that vexes her righteous soul. She cannot understand that the love of the order which is necessary for her

husband's business has permeated his being, and that if his library table sometimes exhibits a suspicious aspect, it is the weakness of the flesh and not the willingness of the spirit which leads him to be untidy.

As

There are some to whom these remarks will seem paradoxical, because they have been led away by preconceived ideas and have never studied the subject for themselves. The solution of the problem of woman's nature cannot be evolved from the inner consciousness. It can be conquered by sitting still and looking at it. We have never ceased to wonder that two neighbouring people like the English and the Welsh can grow up side by side in ignorance even of each other's language. There is a greater wonder nearer home. What do we English men know of the women who live in our midst? At school and at college we are kept apart. bachelors we meet and fence with them in society, but it is not until we are married that the mask is thrust aside and we learn to know our partners face to face. It has been said that marriage doubles our expenses and halves our pleasures. If this were true it would be but the necessary penalty of high estate. The man who has once tasted the sweets of the hunting-field cares less for hacking along the road; his ideas have expanded. In the same way the man who has once been admitted into the fellowship of the other sex cares less for celibate delights, but his range of experience is widened. "Ex una discit omnes," which may be translated freely, "Women are much of a muchness." He finds that they have been credited with attributes that do not belong to them, and perhaps denied virtues that are fairly their due.

Before, however, starting upon the catalogue of these virtues and at