Pictures will not do everything. They will not save souls, for ‘it takes a life to save a life’; but shall such works be kept only for the amusement or passing interest of the rich? Shall not we, who care that the people should have life and fuller life, press them into the service of teaching? Words, mere words, fall flat on the ears of those whose imaginations are withered and dead; but art, in itself beautiful, in ideas rich, they cannot choose but understand, if it be brought within their reach. Art may do much to keep alive a nation’s fading higher life when other influences fail adequately to nourish it; and how shall we neglect it in these hard times of spiritual starvation? In Mrs. Browning’s words ‘The artist keeps up open roads between the seen and the unseen. Art is the witness of what _is_ behind the show.’ HENRIETTA O. BARNETT. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ VIII. _THE YOUNG WOMEN IN OUR WORKHOUSES._[1] [1] Reprinted, by permission, from _Macmillan’s Magazine_, August 1879. Those of us who have ever entered a workhouse will not easily forget some of the sad impressions then made upon the mind. We remember the large, dreary wards-- The walls so blank, That my shadow I thank For sometimes falling there-- the cleanliness which is oppressive, the order which tells of control in every detail. But, gloomy as these things are, they are but the necessary surroundings of many of the people who come to end their days amid them. On their faces is written failure; having been proved useless to the world, they are cast away out of sight, and too often out of mind, on to this sad rubbish-heap of humanity. A closer inspection of this rubbish-heap, however, shows that it is not all worthless. Besides the many whom dissolute, improvident, or vicious courses bring to the workhouse, there are some who are more sinned against than sinful; some who are merely unfortunate, and who by a little wise help, wisely given, may become useful members of society. It is of the young, single women that I would specially speak. Those whom one finds in the workhouse are usually there for one of three reasons. First, in order to seek shelter when about to become mothers; secondly, because they are driven thither by the evil results of profligacy; thirdly, because having failed in life they choose to enter there rather than to sin or to starve. It is of the first and third classes that I now write, for the second class is being dealt with, if not efficiently, at least earnestly, by many societies founded for that purpose. From June 1877 to June 1878 in the seven unions of East London alone there have been no less than 253 young girl-mothers who have entered the infirmaries.