IN these studies of American life nothing is invented or purposely colored. They are reports of the experience and talk of persons I have known, and their interest, for me at least, is in the thought of these men and women, in the effect of their circumstances, experience, and total environment upon their intellectual character and activities. In all my acquaintance with the working people, I have observed that the women appear to be depressed and injured less than the men by the hardships of their life. The anxiety and suffering to which so many of them have been exposed during the last few years have usually been borne by the wives of workingmen with superior patience and courage, and they have developed such readiness of resource as yields only to absolute impossibilities. In many cases the wives of workingmen have for several years supported their families almost entirely. While there has been no work for the men, the women have done washing, sewing, and general housework for all who would employ them. Some women do the washing for half a dozen families each week. In such cases their own home-work must be done at night, and on Sunday. But there are few women who have strength for so much work of this kind, and families often live upon what the wife and mother receives for two, three, or four days' work each week. Sometimes the men assist their wives in the home housekeeping, and even in the washing which is taken in for the neighbors, but I have seen few workingmen who seemed able or inclined to render much assistance in women's work, although idle for months together.

Workingmen's wives are, as a class (so far as my acquaintance extends), more saving or economical than their husbands. They have also less dislike for small jobs, and less contempt for the trifling sums received for them. I am compelled to say that many workingmen

appear unwilling to accept transient employment, especially if of a kind to which they are not accustomed; but their wives are usually ready for any kind of work, however disagreeable or poorly paid it may be. The men often yield to complete discouragement, and become listless and stupid, and are sour and cross at home, until, unable longer to endure the misery of inaction, they take to the road and become tramps. It is easy to censure the folly of leaving home for work in times like these, but few persons who live comfortably understand the mental strain and torture borne by unemployed workingmen, who see at cach meal that every mouthful on the table is really needed by their children. Hunger does not make men philosophical. In the cities and larger towns some workingmen's wives take to drink, as do the men, when their condition and prospects have become desperate, but among working women who do not drink I have never yet seen one relinquish effort and yield to despair. Even when the wolf has long been inside the door, and life is a daily struggle with pinching want, I have noted the silent endurance of workingmen's wives, the effort always renewed, the spirit which never yields.

One such woman, whom I have known for several years, has often excited my wonder by the quiet strength and beauty of her character. She is about thirtyfive years of age. Her father was a prosperous farmer, and she grew up in the large, old-fashioned farm - house, where the abundance of hired help made it unnecessary for her to do anything beyond taking care of her own room and clothing. But she learned housekeeping in the intervals of attending school, taught school two or three years near her home, and then married a business man whose fortune, consisting largely of landed property, was amply sufficient to promise a life of comfort, and the opportunities for intellectual improvement

which she so much coveted. Their life was pleasant and prosperous until a few years after the war. Then her husband sold his property and removed to a distant State, where he bought a farm which had been exhausted by bad tillage, and which required extensive improvements. About this period the approach of the hard times began to be foreshadowed by a general decline in values, to the consequent disappointment of business men who had looked for profits from the continued rise in prices.

Some of the men to whom our friend had sold portions of his property were unable to pay. Loans which he had thought well secured were not repaid, and could not be collected. The man's health declined, and he was obliged to hire all the labor required in the cultivation of his land. It soon appeared to be advisable to sell the farm, as it was rapidly absorbing all that remained of his money, and yielding very little in return. It was sold for an amount much less than the aggregate cost of the land and improvements. A house was bought in a small town at a price which now seems extravagant. About half of it was paid at the time out of the money received for the farm, and a mortgage on the house given to secure the remainder. Most of these changes now appear to have been unfortunate, but they were such as many business men were making in those years, and to have followed a wiser course would have required a degree of foresight which very few at that time possessed. Our friends soon found themselves without any assured income. The hope of receiving something on various old debts was not relinquished until several years later, but it has never been realized. There were now four persons in the household, the two children being nearly old enough to go to school. The father hoped to find in the village some employment which would enable him to support his family, but salaries were being rapidly reduced, and each month added to the number of men seeking places. About this time the wife was engaged for some months in sewing straw goods at home for manufacturers in one of our

large cities. It did not yet appear absolutely necessary for her to earn money for the sustenance of the family, but she preferred to help. Their state and prospects became more serious, and the piano was sold. It had been a marriage gift to the wife from her mother.

Part of the money obtained by the sale of the piano was used to buy a sewingmachine; and while the husband did what he could as a day laborer, at gardening, farm-work, sawing wood, etc., the wife took sewing from a large manufactory of woolen clothing. The price for her work was ninety cents per dozen of the garments upon which she was employed. For several months she used the sewing-machine fifteen hours per day, and by working for that length of time she could make three fourths of a dozen of these garments each day. She was thus able to earn three and a half or four dollars per week. But the labor was too great for her strength, and in less than a year she was compelled to relinquish it. During this period she was often unable to sleep from the weariness and pain resulting from excessive labor.

The first payment made on the village property was also the last. All that could be obtained by the efforts of both husband and wife was often insufficient to supply the family with needed food. The man's strength declined so much that his labor was not very profitable either to himself or to his employers. It became impossible to pay the interest on the debt for the house, now overdue, and the property was surrendered to the former owner. Owing to the great decline in values, it would not now have sold for more than the amount which was still due on it. Since that time this woman has paid rent for the house which she once hoped soon to own. It is but six dollars per month, yet that is a large sum for her. There have been many

dark days. After it became plain that the work with the sewing-machine could not be kept up, my friend learned to make various small articles of women's apparel then in fashion, and has kept a small store of them at her home for sale, and has taken orders from custom

ers for their manufacture. The family needs for food, as she has told me, three dollars and a half per week, but there have been many times when they lived on a dollar per week. Sometimes in winter they have been without food or fuel. They often live almost wholly upon bread, and have no meat for weeks together. The woman is a member of a prosperous church, and attends its meetings with great regularity.

"Does your minister come to see you?" I inquired.

"Oh, yes."

"Does he know how you are situated?"

"No."

"Why do you not tell him?"

"He has not asked me, or spoken of such things, and I would rather converse with him on other subjects.'

"But some of your friends in the church are acquainted with your circumstances?"

They know that we have nothing to live on but what I earn, except when my husband can do a little work now and then; but I do not think they know anything about how much or how little we have." Here she paused, and I saw that she was making an effort to speak quietly. Her lips moved in silence, but she soon spoke again in the same clear voice : "It is sometimes hard to be told that such and such ladies have remarked that I am always wonderfully well dressed. It is quite certain that I should have more work if I were ragged and slovenly. People would interest themselves about me, and give me something to do, if I gave up trying to be neat. But I can't do that, you know." And she laughed gayly, though her eyes were ready to overflow.

She possesses in an unusual degree the power, apparently so easy and natural for some women, of dressing with exquisite taste, even with the poorest materials. My wife says that Mrs. would appear well dressed if she had only an Indian blanket, and would somehow make it look about the same as the costume of all women of taste. People say that she does not look like a work

ing woman.

After a few months' rest from work with the sewing-machine she grew stronger, and undertook dress-making, an industry which she still practices. But there are many others engaged in it; many ladies do their own sewing of late, as a measure of necessary economy; and our friend often has great difficulty in obtaining sufficient work. She feels that debt would be failure and ruin. "I could never keep up heart and energy if we were in debt."

"What are your expectations, your hopes, for the next few years?"

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My children have thus far been kept at school; they are doing well in their studies, and I feel that they must, at any cost, have a tolerable education. My daughter, now about fourteen years of age, has a passion for teaching; and it is my utmost ambition, I suppose I may say, to fit her for that work. My hope is that my health and strength may hold out, and that I may have work enough for the support of my family, and especially to pay my house rent."

"Do you ever look back with regret?

"I have not time, and if I had, that would be foolish and useless." "Do you blame anybody for your hardships?"

"I feel sometimes, as I suppose all women do in such circumstances, like saying, 'If you had only taken my advice, or done as I wished;' but it would do no good, and I have never allowed myself to say it."

Does it seem to you that people are cold and harsh and unkind?":

"No; they are generally kind-hearted. They are sometimes thoughtless, but we must expect that. Not many know much about the lives of those around them."

"Does your religion help you? is it a real force and aid?"

pleasant; but I could not live, I think, without the feeling that his goodness and justice and love are over all things, and that somehow, in ways I cannot understand, he is with me and cares for me in the darkest times. I am obliged to believe that help is sent me sometimes in answer to prayer."

"Then, why is it not always sent? why is prayer not always answered?"

"That is not for me to understand." This woman's religion appears to be a real force in her life. There seems to be but little mysticism in her thought. She does cheerfully and courageously all that lies in her power, and endures patiently the hardships she cannot avoid. She is certainly made stronger by her faith in the divine goodness, which, in spite of appearances to the contrary, she believes is at the heart of things, and is a factor in all human affairs. She thinks that human labor, wisdom, and self-sacrifice are necessary for the right direction of human life, individual and social; and that men must learn how to avoid and cure the evils that now afflict society. "God will not do these things for us, but He will help us if we do our best in any good work." She does not seem to have been injured by her harsh and trying experience. I have observed that many women (and men too) are made cynical by hardship; others adopt eccentric theories about religion or the organization of society, and console themselves by a vehement advocacy of these opinions, or steep their faculties in benumbing dreams of the future, losing thus all power and disposition for present struggle. But this woman, while ready for any drudgery that will enable her to support her family, has lost no iota of self-respect, and does not seem to have been in any wise weakened or degraded by trial and suffering. She retains her old interest in culture, especially in literature, and manages to read each year a few good books. She is well acquainted with the writings of the best American and English poets, and likes biography and essays. She converses well, has a fine presence, and is always in request to preside at ta

bles at church fairs and festivals. Our friend's circumstances do not of course permit her to be much in society. She is rarely away from home, and has no traits or qualities that would fit her to be a reformer of any kind; but her example and influence are most wholesome and encouraging.

My next story is of a woman who, although a good housekeeper, has had much to do with the life in numerous homes besides her own. She is the wife of a mechanic, an unusually intelligent and thoughtful man. Their home is in a village not far from a large city, and there are several manufacturing towns of considerable importance in the same region. I became acquainted with these persons soon after the close of the civil war. They are so inseparable in their thought and work that I cannot well write of one alone. The husband had entered the Union army early, and served to the close of the contest, and they both felt that their connection with the nation's struggle had been a kind of religious experience to them. This first drew me to acquaintance with them. They had a clear idea of a principle of patriotism which should draw men together in times of peace, and inspire them with a feeling of comradeship and of devotion to the interests of their country. As I was myself at that time thinking much of these subjects, and becoming more and more fully convinced of the importance of encouraging and propagating such ideas, I soon became greatly interested in the thought and activities of this workingman and his wife. The man had read much, and was still reading, about government and the organization of society, and had a considerable knowledge of history. He talked with his wife about his reading, and often read aloud the most important passages. For some time before I met him he had been troubled by the growing conviction that many things in the best writings on political economy and similar subjects were inapplicable and impracticable in this country, and among the workingmen whom he knew; and