serious principles. There are no Chiffons in Scotland, whether maids or matrons. Consequently in Scotland there are precious few fools. Hard heads, sound sense, high spirits, indomitable will, inexhaustible energy, are not the offspring of mammas who know more about cosmetics than about swaddling-clothes, and who suckle their children out of patent-food tins. One of the rebukers of Mr. Crosland has pointed out with some pertinence that the Scotswoman approximates more closely to the Wise Man's view of what a good wife should be than almost any other kind of woman in the world. Here, as Mr. Crosland would say, is Solomon: Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil. She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life. She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands. She is like the merchants' ships; she bringeth her food from afar. She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens. She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard. She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms. She perceiveth that her merchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night. She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff. She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy. She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet. Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land. She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant. Strength and honour are her clothing: and she shall rejoice in time to come. She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness. She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her. Yes, Mr. Crosland, it _is_ "very, very, very Scotch." What poor little Chiffon would think of it, if it were put before her as a standard of wifely qualification and duty, nobody but the Englishman knows. Perhaps she would shrug her shoulders and say, "How absurd!" Perhaps she would not understand it at all.