Only about a quarter-century ago unlearned men of ability would often sigh and say, “Ah, if I was only a scholar!” Admirers of a clever and illiterate workman often said, “Why, if he was a scholar, he would make a fortune in business for himself!” Women mourned the lack of learning in the same way, and I have heard good dames deplore the fact that they could not read.  I pity most profoundly those on whom the light of knowledge has never shone kindly; and yet I have a comic sort of misgiving lest in a short time a common cry may be, “Ah, if I was only not a scholar!” The matchless topsy-turvydom which has marked the passage of the last ten years, the tremendously accelerated velocity with which labour is moving towards emancipation from all control, have so confused things in general that an observer must stand back and get a new focus before he can allow his mind to dwell on the things that he sees.  One day’s issue of any good newspaper is enough to show what a revolution is upon us, for we merely need to run the eye down columns at random to pick out suggestive little scraps.  At present we cannot get that “larger view” about which Dr. W.B.  Carpenter used to talk; he was wont to study hundreds and thousands of soundings and measurements piecemeal, and the chaos of figures gradually took form until at length the doctor had in his mind a complete picture of enormous ocean depths.  In somewhat the same way we can by slow degrees form a picture of a changed state of society, and we find that the faculties of body or mind which used to bring their possessor gain are now nearly worthless.  In one column of a journal I find that a trained schoolmistress is required to take charge of a village school.  The salary is sixteen pounds per annum; but, if the lady is fortunate enough to have a husband, work can be procured for him daily on the farm.  This is just a little disconcerting.  The teacher must see to the mental and moral training of fifty children; she must have spent at least seven years in learning before she was allowed to take charge of a school; then she remained two more years on probation, and all the time her expenses were not light.  As the final reward of her exertions, she is offered six shillings per week, out of which she must dress neatly—­for a slatternly schoolmistress would be a dreadful object—­buy sufficient food, and hold her own in rural society!  The reverend man who advertises this delectable situation must have a peculiar idea regarding the class into which an educated lady like the teacher whom he requires would likely to marry.  An agricultural labourer may be an honest fellow enough, but, as the husband of an educated woman, he might be out of place; and I fancy that a schoolmistress whose husband pulled turnips and wore corduroys might not secure the maximum of deference from her scholars.  In contrast to this grotesque advertisement I run down a list of cooks required, and I find that the average wage of the cook