Woman's Place In The Home.

When will the answer to this much disputed question be found? When will long paragraphs in the newspapers cease to appear—paragraphs boldly signed “A Mere Male,” or “I remain, dear sir, A Husband,” or “Father of Family”—in which the position of women is discussed from every possible and impossible point of view? Is the day at hand when she will be accepted once and for all for what she is, and not derided cruelly and tolerantly for what she aspires to be? Perhaps all this discussion is a healthy sign; a sign of new importance and an altogether new sphere of activity. At least, it is an indication that she has emerged finally from the dark obscurity in which she has had her being for many centuries—“the power behind the throne”—the gentle, unobtrusive, and unassuming head of the family, accepting no credit, claiming no recognition, content with her minute world of trivial decisions and daily responsibilities, her “raison d'ětre” simply that of providing a comfortable, serene environment for husband and sons, and an adequate domestic education for gentle, dutiful daughters. How often we read in history and in novels of this shadowy, charming creature with her smile of encouragement and her touch of healing and sympathy. Men have come to regard such a being as an ideal, and even now they cherish some vague aspiration towards a home founded on these traditions.

We have disillusioned them somewhat cruelly and rapidly. Our evolution has suddenly jumped forward with a bound, and we have left the masculine world gasping in astonishment—perplexed, incredulous, and even dismayed.

“The old order” has changed too swiftly; hastened by the outbreak of war with its demands on both sexes. Women were forced to step into men's positions, assume tremendous responsibilities, organise, command—emerge. Is it just to expect her to crawl contentedly back to her kennel now that she is no longer needed in the world of business and power? She has shewn her capabilities and surprised even herself. Given an opportunity she is equal to anything, and since the War she has been feverishly seeking that chance, sometimes at the expense of her home and family.

This is merely temporary, new adjustments are being made, and a new scale of values established. Man is a singularly adaptable animal, and will ultimately find his level in an altered environ- page 60 ment, where he will be met by a thinking, capable, and sympathetic companion, capable of tremendous effort and creative thought. Gone for ever is the plaintive echo of the masculine voice—the mirror in which he sees himself idealized. Instead, is someone possessing a distinct individuality and a positive self—possessing still a subtle charm and an eternal capability of keeping always something of her changeless soul in reserve; at the same time giving much more widely, and receiving eagerly what the world has to offer from its store of experiences.