lutely essential for the well-being of the female; and so it undoubtedly will be in the East as long as woman is uneducated. It is in America we find woman in her highest development-higher even than the English standard-simply because in the best circles she receives an education nearer to that of man than is given her elsewhere. By many such curious customs is secured the entire absorption of the woman, her total eclipse as a separate individuality; there is nothing left of her as far as law and usage can destroy her rights. This is the Eastern idea. But she has her triumph later. As a wife, she knows there is little for her. Divorce is almost sure unless she bears a son; but when, in the language of Scripture, "a man-child is born," presto, change! she is a mothersupreme-invested with a halo of sanctity which secures rank and reverence from all. She becomes by this the equal of her lord, and must be worshipped like him, and jointly with him, by succeeding generations, for Confucius enjoins upon every son the erection of the family tablets, to father and mother alike. Nor is her rule confined to her own children, but, as before stated, to their children as well to the latest day of her life, and the older she becomes the more she is reverenced, being nearer to heaven, dearer to the gods; and it is concluded of much moment to any family to be able to boast a greatgreat-grandmother living. as Do not mourn too much over the sad fate of a young Chinaman compelled to marry one whom he has never seen, for indeed there seems little difference between the young ladies of China. Thousands of years of seclusion, of unvarying customs, have at last moulded women into the same form, mentally and physically, and anything like individuality can exist only to a small degree, and in exceptional nature. They are as like as peas, and one may as well marry one as another. If the husband has not the joys of love, neither has he the anxieties pertaining to that super-sensitive condition; for she is not to be his constant companion, nor his companion at all if he has not drawn a prize. The position of woman would seem, therefore, to be almost entirely different from what it is with us: in youth she is nothing there, in old age everything; with us it is the opposite. The "just mean between the two would probably yield better results than either. In China a man may marry more than one woman, but the first only is recognized as his legal wife; all others are her servants, and bound to wait upon and obey her; and should there be children, these are considered as children of the legal wife only, and it is her they must worship, and not their real mother. Among the masses wives are invariably bought from the parents, about ninety dollars being a fair market price among the poor people. This sum is supposed to recompense them for the outlay involved in rearing the young girl. But this custom is valuable in this, that the possession of so large a sum by a young workingman is the best possible guarantee that the son-in-law has acquired steady habits, and is competent to provide for his family. If a test of this nature could be applied with us, I think paterfamilias would not regard it as the worst of institutions. These Chinese have ideas that are sometimes worth thinking over. From Round the World. CASTLES IN SPAIN. [Mr. Carnegie thus moralises on starting on his tour through Great Britain to lay the foundation stone of a Free Library and Public Baths in Dun fermline. He no doubt had been for years dreaming of this his castle in Spain (and what a noble castle it was), and now on the eve of realization how naturally and kindly he discourses of "Castles in Spain," with a playful badinage reminding one of Thackeray-minus the vinegar.] The world, in my opinion, is all wrong on the subject of air-castles. People are forever complaining that their Chateaux en Espagne are never realized. But the trouble is with them-they fail to recog nize them when they come. "To-day," says Carlyle, "is a king in disguise," and most people are in possession of their aircastles, but lack the trick to see it. Look around you! See Vandy, for instance. When we were thus doing Merrie England on foot, he with a very modest letter of credit stowed away in a belt around his sacred person-for Vandy it was who always carried the bag (and a faithful treasurer and a careful one too- | toys each one specially wants; and lo and good boy, Vandy!); he was a poor behold! before they can be delivered student then, and you should have heard (though she works with speed betimes) him philosophize and lord it over us two, the unreasonable mortals have lost conceit who had been somewhat fortunate in roll- of their prizes, and their coming is a ing mills, and were devoted to business. mockery: they are crying for something Great Cæsar! boys, if I ever get fifteen else. If the fates be malignant, as old hundred dollars a year income!" (This religions teach, how they must enjoy the was the fortune I was vaguely figured up folly of man! to be worth under ordinary conditions.) Great Cæsar! boys"-and here the fist would come down on the hard deal table, spilling a few drops of beer-fifteen hundred dollars a year! Catch me working any more like a slave, as you and Harry do!" Well, well, Vandy's aircastle was fifteen hundred dollars a year; yet see him now when thousands roll in upon him every month. Hard at it still and see the goddess laughing in her sleeves at the good joke on Vandy. He has his air-castle, but doesn't recognize the structure. There is Miss Fashion. How fascinating she was when she descanted on her aircastle-then a pretty cottage with white and red roses clustering beside the door and twining over in a true-lover's knot, symbolizing the lover's ideal of mutual help and dependence the white upon the red. No large establishment for her, nor many servants. One horse (I admit it was always to be a big one), and an elegant little vehicle; plenty of garden and enough of pin money; On this point there was never to be the slightest doubt, so that she could really get the best magazines and one new book every month-any one she chose. A young hard-working husband, without too much income, so that she might experience the pleasure of planning to make their little go far. Behold her now! her husband a millionnaire, a brown-stone front, half a dozen horses, a country place, and a box at the opera! But, bless your heart! she is as unconscious of the arrival of her castle as she is that years creep upon her apace. The Goddess Fortune, my friends, rarely fails to give to mortals all they pray for and more; but how she must stand amazed at the blindness of her idolaters, who continue to offer up their prayers at her shrine, wholly unconscious that their first requests have been granted! It takes Fortune a little time to prepare the gifts for so many supplicants-the Imagine a good spirit taking Fortune to task for the misery and discontent of mortals, as she gazes with piteous eyes upon our disappointments, our troubles, and, saddest of all, our regrets, charging her with producing such unhappiness. "Why have you done this?" would be the inquiry. Listen to the sardonic chuckle of the Fate: "Hush! I've only given them what they asked (chucklechuckle-chuckle)! Not my fault! See that unhappy wretch, sleeplessly and feverishly tossing on his pillow, and in his waking hours absorbing all his lofty faculties in gambling at the Stock Exchange-wife, children, home, music, art, culture, all forgotten. He was once a bright, promising, ingenuous youth. He was born among trees and green fields, spent the morn of life in the country, sensitive and responsive to all nature's whisperings; lay in cool, leafy shades, wandered in forest glades, and paddled in the complaining brooks which make the meadow green.' Nay, not many years ago he returned at intervals to these scenes, and found their charm had still power over him-felt the truth of the poet's words, that 6 to him, if you like. He has no time to listen, nor ears to hear, nor eyes to see; no, nor soul to understand your language. He's 'short' on New Jersey Central or 'long' on Reading, and, bless you! he must strain every fibre if he would save himself from ruin. "He could commune with you in your youth, you say; he had your language then. No doubt! no doubt! so did he then know his Latin and whisper his prayers at his mother's knee. The Latin has gone; his praying continues-nay has increased, for his fears and selfish wants have multiplied since he was an innocent, ignorant child, and he has much more to ask from God for his own ends, now that he is a wise man, and is supposed to know much (chuckle-chuckle-chuckle). "There is another mortal," we hear the Fate saying to the Good Fairy. "Look at her, decked out in all the vagaries of changeable fashion; note her fixed-up look, her conventional air, her nervous, unmeaning, simpering smile, the same to day, yesterday, and forever-something to all men, much to none. See her at home in her chamber! Why mopes she, looking so haggard, with features expressionless and inane? What worm gnaws at her heart and makes her life so petty? She, too, came into the world a bright and happy thing, and grew up fond of music and of birds, and with a passion for flowers and all of Nature's sweets; so careful, too, of mother and of father, the very embodiment of love to all around her. domain of human life where duties grow something not only beyond but different from Fashion, higher than dress or show. She understands you not. Does "Hand her a bunch of violets she learn their lesson with their odor (which her dog scents as well as she)? Comes there to her the inner meaning, the scent of the new-mown hay that speaks of past hours of purity, of the fresh breeze that fanned her cheek in childhood's halcyon days, the love of all things of the green earth and the sense of the goodness of God which his flowers ever hold within their petals for those who know their language? "They will decorate me to-night for the ball!' That is the be-all and the end-all of her ladyship's love for flowers. Show her a picture with more of heaven than earth in it, and glimpses of the light that never shone on sea or shore. If the artist be in fashion she will call it pretty,' when it is grand. Give her music. Is it the opera? Oh, yes, she will attend. It is the fashion. But place within her reach the soul-moving oratorio (with more religion in it than in twenty sermons) or the suggestive symphony. No, a previous engagement prevents. Why, just think of it—one can't talk there! Yet this woman could once play with feeling and sing with expression, delighting her young companions. Of her one could truly say: "Oh! to see or hear her singing! Scarce I know which is divinest You should have seen her in her teens, a glorious ray from heaven-‘making a sunshine in a shady place'-so natural, so hearty, with a carolling laugh like the falling of waters. In her most secret prayers she asked only for a kind lover with a fair competence, that they might live modestly, without ostentation. She was a good girl and I granted her wish and more, says Fate. "Her aircastle was small, but I sent her a magnificent one. She is courted, flattered, has every gift in my power to bestow; yet she pines in the midst of them. The fruits of rare gardens have no flavor for her-Dead Sea fruits indeed, which fall to ashes on her lips. She has entered for the race of Fashion, and her soul is absorbed in its jealousies and disappoint-to ments. You may speak to her as of old; tell her there is something noble in that 'And now she has fallen to this!" "Has she children?" inquires the Good Spirit. เ 66 "No, says Fate, we are not altogether relentless. How could we give such a woman children and look you in the face? It is sometimes thought necessary even to go as far as this, but in such cases we commend the poor infants the special care of the great Father, for mother they have none. But look! there is a man now who did so pray for a son and heir that we gave him one, and yonder goes the result. God in heaven! why are men so rash in their blindness as to pray for anything! Surely 'Thy will be done' were best."-An American Four-in-Hand in Britain. THE ABBEY BELL. [Let us carefully contemplate the following touching picture—as already related in our biographical sketch, and in the introduction to the preceding extract-the poor boy, now the American millionnaire, has returned to Dunfermline, his native city, and accompanied by hie mother still active and vigorous. On this day of days "The Queen Dowager" is to lay the foundationstone of the Public Baths and Library, the princely gift of her generous son. Let the savant read this description, and he may answer for himself his question: Is life worth living?] DUNFERMLINE, July 27-28, 1880. Put all the fifty days of our journey to gether, and we would have exchanged them all for rainy ones if we could have been assured a bright day for this occasion. It came, a magnificent day. The sun shone forth as if glad to shine upon this the most memorable day of my mother's life or of mine, as far as days can be rendered memorable by the actions of our fellow-men. We left Edinburgh and reached Queensferry in time for the noon boat. Here was the scene so finely given in 'Marmion," which I tried, however, in vain to recall as I gazed upon it. If Dunfermline and its thunders had not been in the distance, I think I could have given it after a fashion, but I failed altogether that morning. 66 "But northward far, with purer blaze, And truly it was a morning in which 1 Mr. Carnegie in his story playfully and lovingly names his mother "The Queen Dowager." nature's jewels sparkled at their best. Upon reaching the north shore we were warmly greeted by Uncle and Aunt, and Maggie and Annie. It was decided better not to risk luncheon in the ruins of Rosythe Castle, as we had intended, the grass being reported damp from recent rains. We accordingly drove to the inn, but we were met at the door by the good landlady, who, with uplifted hands, exclaimed: "I'm a' alane! There's naebody in the house! They're a' awa' to Dunfermline! There'll be great goings on there the day. A hotel without one servant. The good Woman, however, assured us we might come in and help ourselves to anything in the house; so we managed to enjoy our luncheon, though some of us only after a fashion. There were three gentlemen, a wife, and a cousin, who for the first time did not care much for anything in the form of luncheon. Speeches, speeches, these are what troubled Harry, Davie, and me; and I had cause for grave alarm, of which they could form little idea, for I felt that if Dunfermline had been touched and her people had determined to give us a public reception, there was no saying to woat lengths they might go. If I could decently have stolen away and gone round by some circuitous route, sending my fellow-townsmen an apology, and telling them that I really felt myself unable to undergo the ordeal, I should have been tempted to do so. I was also afraid that the Queen Dowager would break down, for if ever her big black eyes get wet it's all over with her. How fortunate it was that Mrs. H. was with her to keep her right! It was wisely resolved that she should take her inside of the coach and watch over her. I bit my lip, told the Charioteers they were in for it and must go through without flinching, that now the crisis had come I was just bound to stand anything. I was past stage-fright, and I assured myself that they could do their worst--I was callous and would not be moved-but to play the part of a popular hero even for a day, wondering all the time what you have done to deserve the outburst, is fearful work. When I did get time to think of it, my tower of strength lay in the knowledge that the spark which had set fire to their hearts was the Queen Dowager's return and her share in the day's proceedings, Grand woman, she has deserved all that was done in her honor even on that day. A man stopped us at the junction of the roads to inform us that we were expected to pass through the ancient borough of Innerkeithing but I forgot myself there. It seemed a fair chance to escape part of the excitement (we had not yet begun the campaign as it were); at all events I dodged to escape the first fire, as raw troops are always said to do, and so we took the direct road. When the top of the Ferry Hills was reached we saw the town, all as dead as if the holy Sabbath lay upon it, without one evidence of life. How beautiful is Dunfermline seen from the Ferry Hills, its grand old abbey towering over all, seeming to hallow the city and to lend a charm and dignity to the lowliest tenement. Nor is there in all broad Scotland, nor in many places elsewhere, that I know of, a more varied and delightful view than that obtained from the park upon a fine day. What Benares is to the Hindoo, Mecca to the Mohammedan, Jerusalem to the Christian, all that Dunfermline is to me. But here I must stop. If you want to learn how impulsive and enthusiastic the Scotch are when once aroused, how dark and stern and true is the North, and yet how fervid and overwhelming in its love when the blood is up, I do not know where you will find a better evidence of it than in what followed. See how a small spark kindled so great a flame. The Queen Dowager and I are still somewhat shamefaced about it, but somehow or other we managed to go through with our parts without breaking down. The Queen Dowager had been chosen to lay the Memorial Stone of the Free Library, and the enthusiasm of the people was aroused by her approach. There was something of the fairy tale in the fact that she had left her native town, poor, thirty odd years before, with her loved ones, to found a new home in the great Republic, and was to-day returning in her coach, to be allowed the privilege of linking her name with the annals of her beloved native town in one of the most enduring forms possible; for whatever agencies for good may rise or fall in the future. it seems certain that the Free Library is destined to stand and become a never-ceasing foundation of good to all the inhabitants. Well, the future historian of that ancient town will record that on this day, under bright sunshine, and amidst the plaudits of assembled thousands, the Queen Dowager laid the Memorial Stone of the building, an honor, compared with which, I was charged to tell the citizens, in the Queen Dowager's estimation, Queen Victoria has nothing in her power to bestow. So say also the sons of the Queen Dowager. The ceremonies passed off triumphantly. The procession, workingmen and address, banquet, and all the rest of it may be summed up in the remark of the Dunfermline press: "The demonstration may be said to be unparalleled in the history of Dunfermline. I will not be tempted to say anything further about this unexpected upheaval except this: after we had stopped and saluted the Stars and Stripes, displayed upon the Abbey Tower in graceful compliment to my American friends (no foreign flag ever floated there before, said our friend, Mr. R, keeper of the ruins), we passed through the archway to the Bartizan, and at this moment came the shock of all that day to me. I was standing on the front seat of the coach with Provost Walls when I heard the first toll of the abbey bell. My knees sank from under me, the tears came rushing before I knew it, and I felt as if I were about to faint. Fortunately I saw that there was no crowd before us for a little distance. I had time to regain control, and biting my lips till they actually bled, I murmured to myself, no matter, keep cool, you must go on; but never can there come to my ears on earth, nor enter so deep into my soul, a sound that shall haunt and subdue me with its sweet, gracious melting power like that. By that curfew bell I had been laid in my little couch to sleep the sleep of childish innocence. Father and mother, sometimes the one, sometimes the other, had told me, as they bent lovingly over me night after night, what that bell said as it tolled. Many good words has that bell spoken to me through their translations. No wrong thing did I do through the day which that voice from all I knew of heaven and the Great Father there did not tell me kindly about ere I sank to sleep, speaking the very words so plainly that I knew that the power that moved it had seen all and was not angry, never angry, never, but so very, very sorry. Nor |