with this union of great qualities as another is born to be a poet, it is, I think, the wildest fallacy to imagine that the innate powers alone have ever made a man a great general. It is only by a deep study of military history, of the military arts and sciences in all their phases, that the heaven-born genius can be converted into the successful commander. Not even Jomini was more thoroughly conversant with all the great campaigns of Cæsar, Hannibal, Turenne, Marlborough, and Frederick the Great, than Napoleon was. No man has so emphatically laid down the absolute necessity of study for all who aspire to lead armies, than did the great Corsican in his memoirs dictated when a prisoner. Had he been employed for the first forty years of his life at some civil occupation, and then been suddenly given command of an army, it is tolerably certain he would have failed. It has been the same with all great commanders. Wellington, as a youth, begged his parents to send him to France to study the military sciences, and it was there he imbibed that knowledge, which grafted on the genius he had been born with, enabled him to win in the history of the world the high position he now holds. It is well also to remember, that as he and Sir John Moore were at that time the only English generals of any eminence, they were also the only two we know of that had made military history their study.

It is indeed a foolish notion that any man can rise to the eminence of a Cæsar without earnest application to his work, deep study of its science, and long and anxious thought bestowed upon the conduct and actions of the great leaders of preceding generations. In the war between the Northern and Southern States of America both armies were composed of great masses of newly-raised levies. Heaven-born genius, unallied with military education and knowledge, had therefore the best chance of making itself felt, and of coming to the front. Yet what is the lesson the history of that war teaches us? All those whose names will be forever remembered in connection with it by the English-speaking race throughout the world, were educated soldiers. Lee and Grant, Stonewall Jackson, Sherman, McClellan, Sheri

dan, Longstreet, Johnston, Hill, and a host of others, whose names are and will long be household words in their own States, were all graduates of West Point, that most excellent of military colleges. One of the greatest men of that exciting and memorable time was Abraham Lincoln, a shrewd, clear-headed man of business, of very great natural ability and quick apprehension, possessing too a keen insight into human character and endowed with a splendid patriotism. All the best qualities he possessed are indispensable to the general, but he knew nothing of war or of the soldier's science. Can his most ardent admirer imagine for one moment that, had he been pitchforked into the command of any of the Northern armies, he would have succeeded? Can it be supposed for a moment that our greatest of artists, instinct though he was with artistic genius from his birth, could ever have produced any great picture had chance made him in early life a vicar or a doctor? It cannot be too forcibly impressed upon all who aspire to high military positions, that no amount of inborn genius, unless accompanied by deep and thoughtful study, can ever secure them success.

There is a quality that must not be ignored in any analysis of military genius: I mean the power of calculating chances. This power is much more natural to some than to others. I have known men with whom it is a second instinct, while with others it is merely an arithmetical process, learned by book and never thoroughly effective. This, I think, is to be accounted for by want of imagination. The general who cannot in his mind's eye see before him the whole scene that some projected operation will present, who cannot as it were picture to himself in a series of mental dissolving views all the various and progressive phases of, say, an attack upon his enemy's position, lacks a natural quality which no amount of study can supply. If you cannot in your own mind identify yourself with your antagonist; if you cannot put yourself within his brain, as it were, and reason as he is doing at every critical moment of a compaign, and from your knowledge of men, and of him in particular, gather what he means to do, you can never be

in the front rank of great commanders. A vivid imagination, allied to a col calculating brain, can alone insure this power to any one. The poetical, the imaginative side of war cannot be dispensed with by the able general, the great leader. Wellington, in conversation long after his great achievements, said that he had spent his military life in trying to divine what was taking place behind the ranges of hills which bounded his view. He was above all things a man of sound common sense; unimpressionable, and the last man whom the world would have accredited with a brilliant imagination. The story of his life always appears to the casual reader of history as the abnegation of

poetry. And yet he must have had a large share of imagination to have enabled him to foresee his enemy's movements with that perspicuous clearness which was manifest in all his campaigns, Waterloo alone excepted.

Great military genius is impossible without a combination of all these qualities, many of which are rare, even when taken singly. They must be well balanced, also, so that no one quality shall overweigh or outrun the other. No one can be omitted without leaving a weak point, a breach into which uncertainty of decision and confusion of action may penetrate to the utter destruction of the man and of all committed to his care.Fortnightly Review.

THE student of social phenomena who considers that the modification of human beings by their environment follows the same general laws, and is, at least, as interesting and important as the evolution of inferior organisms by the same method, and who, believing that observation is the true parent of knowledge in both spheres, has furthermore kept his ears and eyes open, will not have failed to notice the appearance of a new variety of the class Homo within the last two decades.

This variety, as commonly happens among naturalists when similar discoveries are made, has given rise to a dispute concerning its claim to the dignity of being deemed a new species; and philosophers have answered this question in accordance with the natural bent of their several minds. Those who lay stress on external characteristics deny the claim; on the other hand, those who adhere to more modern methods and are inclined to doubt the necessary identity of the essential with the external, are disposed to make an addition to those divisions of mankind which have been hitherto recognized.

It may be granted that the careless observer will not at once be able to distinguish the individuals who form the subject of this paper from the class Spinster, from which they have been evolved. If he content himself with

noting only the "morphology" of the specimen under notice, he will behold nothing but a plainly-dressed woman, clad in an ulster and unmistakably home-made hat or bonnet; but if he note her self-reliant bearing, her air of having some definite business to perform in a definite time, her general aspect of being ready to meet all emergencies, he will begin to see he has here something differing considerably from the ordinary female. Other characteristic marks are her agility in gaining the tops of omnibuses, her power of entering a tram car without stopping the horses, her cool self-possession in a crowd, her utter indifference to weather, and, it must be added, an undoubted disposition to exact her rights to the uttermost farthing. If he should chance to overhear her conversation with a boon companion he would be still more enlightened, and perhaps dismayed. For the sisterhood hold strong opinions which, however, they are very cautious not to promulgate to the vulgar. pendent for subsistence on the patronage of middle class Philistines they are too wise to shock their prejudices needlessly, but atone for this reticence in public by the boldness of their private speculations. Some are theoretically Socialists who would limit the population by forcible means; others are thorough-going Democrats who would hail a

De

revolution as the quickest and best solution of existing difficulties; others, Dames of the Primrose League. Varied as are their nostrums, they agree in ardently desiring the public good, and would make considerable sacrifices to attain that object. Their courage in following out the premises they severally accept is striking. It is not uncommon to hear them discuss such propositions as the lawfulness of suicide, the advantages of a State-regulated infanticide, the possibility of compelling incurable invalids or useless individuals to undergo euthanasia after a certain time, or the merits of a general redistribution of property.

One of them explained this trait by saying that while other people were hampered by the necessity of making their theories coincide with personal or family interests, they themselves, having given no hostages to fortune, were exempt from the temptation to shirk facts and conclusions which logically lead to the reorganization of the social structure. The speaker added that, since they have at present little power for good or evil, they indulge in such academic discussions rather as an intellectual pleasure than with any strong wish to see such measures actually tried, and that personally they were always remarkably law-abiding and orderly citizens. Like meteors, they wander free in inter-familiar space, obeying laws and conventions of their own, and entering other systems only as strange and rare visitants. Widely read and often highly cultured, their circumstances prevent them from associating with the learned classes, who in England are always wealthy, while their tastes and habits forbid them finding enjoyment in ordinary middle-class female society.

By careful investigation we find that the main forces which have brought about the evolution of this variety of Femina have been, in the first place, the present contraction of means among the professional classes without their standard of comfort being correspondingly lowered, which has driven the sisters and daughters to seek remunerative employment; the same cause has operated powerfully in checking the marriagerate, and thus leaving more women unprovided for. Secondly, the democratic

spirit of the age, which is unfavorable to satisfied acquiescence in a position of dependence and subjection. Thirdly, the general spread of education, which has enabled many women to find happiness in intellectual pleasures and to care comparatively little about social environment.

As concerns the all-important question of money, it may be stated that the Glorified Spinster is invariably poor, her income varying from eighty to one hundred pounds. If it approach the latter sum she is quite sure to disburse a considerable amount yearly for the benefit of her relatives; for, in spite of the apparent selfishness of her mode of life, she readily acknowledges the claims of family, and, if the truth must be told, her male connections show themselves very willing to shift the burden of providing for the ineffective members of the family to her willing shoulders.

But in spite of the smallness of her resources, she manages to see every good piece at the theatres, to attend a dozen good concerts during the season, to visit the chief picture-exhibitions, and in addition to experience something of foreign travel. She shows herself a financial genius in extracting the greatest possible amount of pleasure out of every shilling. She patronizes the galleries of the Albert and St. James's Halls, and the pits at the playhouses, where, be it confessed, she is sometimes unreasonable enough to resent being subjected to the scrimmage which ensues at such places. A man with her income would be wretched, but as she spends no money on beer, tobacco, or bets, she manages to exist in tolerable comfort.

She economizes, too, in her lodgings. A visit to the den of one of the sisterhood reveals a small room, twelve feet by fourteen, in a quiet street in Kensington, for which its occupant pays six shillings a week. In one corner stands a small wooden bed covered with gay chintz, an idea evidently adopted from Newnham College; before the window is a large tin trunk, the battered sides and numerous labels of which attest it has been a wanderer in its time; this also has a chintz cover, not over clean, be it noted. Next, comes a cheap imitation of an old-fashioned bureau which

is meant to conceal the necessaries of the toilet; but, alas! the spring is broken, and the Irish expedient of inserting a small wedge of paper has been, perforce, adopted. Over the mantelpiece are well-filled bookshelves, in which may be noted Mill's Logic, two volumes of Mr. Browning's poems, one of Walt Whitman's, Mr. Herbert Spencer's "Study of Sociology," and several French and German novels. The Spinster is an omnivorous reader, and would sooner forego her breakfast than her newspaper. A small cupboard fills the recess which contains her wardrobetwo frocks and a rag," as the proprietress observes. But in the bottom of a common painted chest of drawers, carefully enfolded in sheets of tissue paper, reposes her one "dress," usually a handsome garment of satin or velvet, which is so igeniously contrived as to be capable of serving for an evening robe, by the removal of certain portions of the bodice. In this she appears when she revisits the upper air, at her brother's, the doctor's, dinners, or her married sister's Christmas parties; it likewise forms her Sunday gown when she runs down to the old rectory home for a short holiday. The other drawers are a confused mass of reels, pens, handkerchiefs, linen, papers-tidiness in small matters being the first virtue to disappear in a Bohemian life. A hammock-chair, one of the common bedroom pattern, and a small table, complete the furniture. On the walls are a few good photographs and prints, her own property, but the room is otherwise without any attempt at ornament. My friend explains that, as one must not expect much dusting for six shillings a week, the fewer knick-knacks one has, the better. A person very fastidious as to cleanliness would have to pay at least double rent, which would mean an entire renunciation of all amusements and pleas

"A little extra sickness then does not matter," they declare.

They obtain the wherewithal to keep up their modest establishments by acting as teachers, nurses, accountants, clerks, librarians, heads of certain business-departments, and so forth. Their great grievance is that their pay is always much lower than what would be given to men for the same work; but they recognize that at present their only chance of employment is to undersell the other sex in the labor-market.

kind

My own acquaintance was enough to describe her working-day. She said: "I rise at half-past seven and have breakfast, which I eat standing, brought to me on a tray, and then walk a mile and a half to my business. I choose to live at this distance because I consider the daily walk essential for health, and again, as an unappreciative public only bestows a poor eighty pounds a year on me, I must economize, and so prefer not being exposed to the chance visits of casual acquaintances. One does not mind receiving friends, of course, and many an absorbing conversation do we hold concerning all things in heaven and earth, while toasting our toes at the shabby little bedroom grate; but these friends are of old standing, and not to be influenced by one's surroundings. We have several times tried to form clubs, which would be an inestimable boon; but as long as most of us are practical teetotalers, and consider that a shilling a day must provide for food, clubs, I fear, will always prove financial failures.

"To go on with my day: I begin work at nine o'clock and leave off at half-past six. We have half an hour's interval at one o'clock, when the richer ones among us pay ninepence for a substantial meal; we indigent creatures get a small plate of meat with potatoes and cabbage for sixpence. On my way home in the evening, I usually stop at a workman's café, and buy, for tea, two ounces of capital collared head, brawn, pressed tongue, or salt beef for a couple of pence; sometimes I indulge in eggs or fish. As soon as I reach my lodgings, I divest myself of my frock, and don either the rag' before mentioned or my dressing-gown, prop myself up

with pillows on my bed, which thus serves for a couch, have tea brought to my side on a small table, and prepare to enjoy both it and my papers. This is my principal meal, and is often prolonged for over an hour, most of my light reading being done at this time. Toward half-past eight I have to rouse myself and resume work, if I wish to keep Saturday pretty free; but on one or two evenings of the week this is not necessary, and so I have an opportunity of occasionally attending a concert or lecture. You ask if I never crave for companionship in my leisure hours. Candidly I do not. After all we are, as yet, but a small class, and congenial spirits are rather hard to meet with, as they are scattered all over London. You must not for one moment imagine that anything like half of the women at present earning their own living belong to our denomination. All those must All those must be eliminated who are looking forward to marriage as their ultimate destiny, those who are living with their own relations, and again, all who are properly classified as Old Maids, that is to say, women who feel themselves cruelly deprived of their natural sphere of work and happiness, and becoming soured, lack strength and spontaneity to make a full and satisfactory life for themselves. An Old Maid is a woman minus something; the Glorified Spinster is a woman plus something, as was lately well remarked in a public print. This being so, we do not care for ordinary female society, and one of our grievances is that custom in this country prevents us from mixing freely with men on whose moral and intellectual level we more nearly

are.

We should be ticketed Not in the marriage market, and then be allowed perfect freedom in choosing our friends. This would be of mutual advantage. We are rather inclined to believe our dicta infallible in matters of art, literature, and politics, and outside criticism would do us good, and check our private tendency to self-assurance; while, on the other hand, we should act as a most salutary and much-needed stimulus to the ordinary British Philistine. Some of us, of course, have succeeded in making and keeping male friends, but custom and social prejudice are against it."

It was delicately hinted to my inform

ant that, were her suggestion carried out, certain difficulties might arise, and the Spinster fall from her high estate to become a mere household-drudge and a suckler of infants! This she declared utterly improbable, and proceeded to give her reasons. Without entirely endorsing Mrs. Poyser's biting remark that a man likes to make sure of one fool as 'ull think he's wise," she thought there was a certain truth in it. A man marries to enjoy the pleasures of protecting and caring for some one less able than himself, and rightly feels that in so doing he is developing the best side of his nature. His instinct teaches him to crave in his spouse those qualities of gentleness and softness in which he is himself deficient, and most men have no other conception of unselfishness than in providing for their own house. He would soon discover that the Spinster is not the complementary nature he needs, though he may acknowledge her to be

a good fellow," and be fond of meeting her socially, unless perchance his vanity is hurt by finding a woman as well educated and as intelligent as himself. Secondly, the Spinster has tasted the sweets of liberty and independence, and would be very loath to relinquish them; in perfect good faith she considers marriage as a last resort for those who lack sufficient strength of mind or body to maintain their footing in the world alone. Again, she is still sufficient of a woman to require something of a

hero in a husband, and her critical faculty is usually so abnormally developed that the power of idealizing human beings has gone from her, and consequently falling in love is almost impossible.

But she is no misanthropist, and prides herself on her capacity for lasting friendships and her affection for animals and children.

So far we have dwelt on the side of her lot which most strikes an observer who has been accustomed to consider women as necessarily connected with family life, and incapable by nature of finding happiness alone. Our Spinster has good health, good spirits, few worries, few restraints, and a keen appetite for amusement, which she has special facilities for gratifying. But being human, she has of course her share in the common lot of trouble and sorrow. Old