rains
of our forefathers, though to a less extent. They settled it more
rapidly and satisfactorily than we are able to do, for, "in the long
ago," women were less ambitious than they are now. In our times, they
have so forced themselves to the front, that a number of questions have
necessarily to be considered; and what woman ought to do, what she can
do, and what she must do, are subjects which afford interesting and
useful topics of conversation in all circles. As might have been
expected, the opinions of even wise men vary with regard to this
matter. "A woman is good as a house-wife, and a mother," say some.
"But as there are not homes enough for them all, something else must be
thought of," say others. "A woman has neither strength enough, nor
brains enough, for most occupations," say her detractors. "A woman is
capable of doing almost anything a man can do, especially those things
which are the most honourable and remunerative," say the most
enthusiastic advocates of woman's rights. There are some, indeed, who
would gladly aid her to mount the very highest pinnacles of fame and
social distinction. There are others who are jealous if she succeed in
getting her foot, even upon the lowest step of the ladder, and who
would be glad, like the Friend of Mrs. Stowe, to give the intruder a
push, with the words, "Thou art not wanted here."

In the midst of this clamour of inharmonious voices, it is a little
amusing to see how quietly and effectively some women settle the matter
for themselves. If, indeed, they are among the best of their sex, they
are surely qualified to judge, not only of their own ability, but also
as to that which is proper. And they have no difficulty in finding
this reply to the puzzling question--A WOMAN'S WORK IS THAT WHICH SHE
SEES NEEDS DOING. It is her duty to put her hand to any occupation
that is waiting for workers. If a fire is raging, and she have
strength to bring a bucket of water, and throw over it, is she guilty
of an unwomanly action if she obey the impulse of her heart, and work
diligently by the side of men whose work it is? If she see "another
woman's bairnie" in trouble, is she not right to rush into the streets
and snatch him from the danger which threatens him, as the horses come
tearing by, and the huge and laden vehicles shake the houses? And is
she less a woman, if, seeing these children grown up to manhood, she
beholds them exposed to greater dangers than their chi