We cannot follow her steps as she advanced towards Lhassa, though we would fain pause with her for a moment on the top of the dreaded pass of Dam-jan-er-la, the highest elevation to which she attained, where water boiled at so low a temperature that though boiling it was only tepid-a great drawback, as every one knows, to the brewing of a comfortable cup of tea. She had got on so well that there seemed little risk of her not reaching Lhassa, but for the treachery of her Mohammedan guide Noga. He had proved a faithless wretch, and had made more than one attempt on her life, in order to possess himself of her whole property, and it was a relief when he left her; but the scoundrel hurried on in front of her and gave the authorities information of her approach. She had just come within sight of the sacred province of U when she was taken prisoner, and after in vain remonstrating and palavering with the Lhassa chiefs, obliged to turn back toward China. But no incivility or violence was offered to her; on the contrary, as the various robberies she had experienced had left her destitute of money and even the necessaries of life, they gave her the wherewithal to retrace her steps to the half-way town or Ke-gu, where she left her tents, and for many nights slept in the open air. Whether parting with her tents was resorted to for the purpose of procuring a little money, we are not told; yet nothing but dire necessity could have driven her to that step in such a climate, where a hole in the ground with a piece of felt to cover the ice was a welcome bed, and her night-dress consisted of a bag into which she crept, clothes and all.

Of the people she says:

I have nothing but praise to give the Tibetans for their chivalry and kindness. Setting aside their raiding proclivities, they are hospitable, friendly, trustworthy, and by no means averse to intercourse with Europeans. In simplicity and naïveness, more especially, those people form

a decided contrast to most Asiatic races. Although the lamas, for political reasons, do not wish to see us in their country, it is the Chinese who force Tibet-though this country is only partially tributary to them to so jealously guard her frontier, and this principally for their own trade interests; nor do they hesitate to do all they can to impede any intercourse between the Tibetans and Europeans, and to raise bad blood.

Miss Taylor, after visiting this country, returned to the borders of Tibet, where she is employed in useful work, but without having as yet made any new attempt to reach Lhassa.

There are other ladies well entitled. to the name of travellers and a place in our record. We can but mention two. One is Miss M. W. Kingsley, whose exploration of the river Ogowé is graphically described in the Scottish Geographical Magazine for March, 1896. The other is Mrs. Littledale, the wife of Mr. St. George R. Littledale, and the intrepid companion of his three journeys-first, in 1891, across the Pamirs; next, in 1894, across Central Asia; and lastly, in 1895, across Tibet. Mr. and Mrs. Littledale, after surmounting incredible difficulties and hardships, had actually got within forty-three miles of Lhassa, and Mr. Littledale was determined to fight his way, if necessary, over the remaining space, in spite of all opposition, when the dangerous illness of his wife compelled him to return. (See Magazine of the Royal Geographical Society for May, 1896.)

It goes without saying that our story reflects high credit on the courage, the perseverance, and the benevolence of the gentler sex; it is a record of which women may well be proud. And there is this further to be said-that in no case has their travelling enthusiasm involved the sacrifice of obvious domestic duty; nor has it brought out any qualities inconsistent with the modesty, the grace, and the gentleness that must always be regarded as the fitting ornaments of the sex.

From The Argosy.

DON CARLOS.

care of the motherless babe, but, pitying his feebleness, she indulged the boy too much, and in her solicitude for his bodily health she neglected that of his mind, and did nothing to form his character or check the ungovernable outbursts of his violent temper.

end by his jealous and revengeful parent, Don Carlos stands in the pages of romance a hero about whose life, love, and tragic death, a halo of romantic mystery is thrown.

So much for romance. But the pages of history tell a different tale. Instead of being handsome, Don Carlos was, if the portrait given of him may be believed, exactly the reverse. His features were somewhat like those of his father, Philip II., his complexion was swarthy and sallow, his expression, fierce and foolish. His head was disproportionately large, his limbs were rickety, one shoulder being higher than the other, and one leg longer than its fellow, while his figure was as misshapen as his mind.

In all probability this portrait was as exaggerated in its depreciation of the unhappy young man's personal appearance as was the romancer's depiction of him as a hero of grace and beauty.

There is no doubt that this tragic and mysterious fate endowed him with an amount of interest that otherwise he would not have gained.

On November the 12th, 1543, Philip II. of Spain was married to his cousin, the Infanta Mary of Portugal, daughter of John III. and Catherine.

On July 8th, 1545, she gave birth at Valladolid, to a son, dying a few days afterwards at the age of eighteen. This son was the celebrated Don Carlos, Prince of the Asturias.

As an infant he was weakly, and it was thought he would not live to grow up. Deprived of a mother's care, he was intrusted to that of the Regent Joanna, his aunt, during his father's absence in England and the Low Countries.

Philip's sister, Joanna, was a good woman, and she gladly undertook the

That Carlos had some lovable qual

Joanna, felt an affection for him to the last. She made several attempts to be allowed to see him during his rigorous confinement, and was deeply afflicted when all entreaties to move her brother proved ineffectual. As Carlos grew older his education was entrusted to Honorato Juan, a well-trained scholar, and a man of piety and learning, who tried, but with little success, to interest Carlos in his studies.

In 1556, Charles V. stopped at Valladolid on his way to his cloistered retreat at Yuste. He there saw his grandson for the first time after his abdication, and was highly pleased with him. He thought the lad inherited some of his martial genius, for he took such interest in his grandfather's accounts of his various battles; and when told how the emperor had fled at Innspruck, narrowly escaping falling into the hands of the enemy, he interrupted him, sturdily maintaining that he "never would have fled," though Charles endeavored to explain the necessity of the case. But, pleased as the emperor was with the boy's martial bearing, he was keen enough to see that his temper was wayward and overbearing, and that he was insolent to his aunt. He read Carlos a lecture on his behavior, and told Joanna that "if she would administer more wholesome correction to the boy, the nation would have reason to thank her for it."

Charles, even in his retreat, thought of his grandson. He made the governor of the prince, Don Garcia de Toledo, a brother of the celebrated Duke of Alva, write to him regularly, detailing his pupil's progress. The governor was by no means satisfied with Don Carlos, he showed great inattention and want of interest, not only in his studies, but also in the accomplishments it was

thought so necessary for a cavalier to be proficient in, such as horsemanship, fencing, caneplaying, and other manly exercises.

mother, Joanna, and his licentiousness was such as to shock those around him, particularly his father, Philip, who, though he indulged himself, was careful to draw a veil of decency over his own proceedings.

severe

At this period of his life he rose before seven; heard mass, and breakfasted by half past eight. Then he studied and at eleven dined. After that came a period of recreation, when, with his young companions, he amused himself by playing at quoits, or trucos, a kind of billiards, or fencing. At half past three he had a light meal, after which he listened to reading, or, if fine, went for a walk or ride. In the evening came supper and bed at half past nine.

If contemporary writers are to be believed, at a very early age Carlos showed a headstrong, overbearing temper and natural ferocity of disposition. He had a favorite snake, a very large specimen, which he was in the habit of caressing. One day, however, an unlucky day for the reptile, it bit its master's finger, whereupon Don Carlos promptly avenged the injury by biting its head off on the spot.

He would have hares and other animals brought to him alive, that he might cut their throats and amuse himself with their dying convulsions. Occasionally he varied this amusement by roasting them alive. This was evidently an hereditary trait, for his father, Philip, enjoyed an auto da fé, only the victims he roasted alive were human fellow-creatures.

Carlos was reckless and impatient, and so arrogant that he was unwilling to stand with his head uncovered, for any time, in the presence of the emperor, or his father.

His preceptors tried to combat the savagery of his temper, but without avail. As he grew older his ferocity increased, and other vices developed themselves, even when a boy. He was cunning as any madman, indeed, it is only charitable to suppose that he inherited the insanity of his great grand

It is only fair to add that he had some

even to prodigality, giving away his jewels and clothes when his money was gone. He was fearless, and by no means frivolous in his tastes, and, at all events in his boyhood, had a predilection for a military life.

His outbursts of temper seemed ungovernable. Once as he was passing along the street, some water thrown from a window accidentally fell upon him. He peremptorily ordered his guards to burn the house to the ground and kill the whole of the inhabitants. The soldiers pretended to carry out this sanguinary order, but came back with the excuse that the holy sacrament of the Viaticum had that moment been carried into the house. Even Carlos dared not profane the mysteries of the Church, so by the soldiers' stratagem the doomed inhabitants escaped.

In the beginning of 1560, Isabella of France, who had been destined as a bride for Don Carlos, came to Castile to be married, but the bridegroom had been changed; instead of the son she was united to the father.

The marriage was performed at Toledo with great magnificence, on the second of February. There is considerable divergence in Isabella's age, as given by different historians. De Thou says she was only eleven, Sismondi makes her fourteen, while Cabrera puts it at eighteen, at the time of her marriage with Philip. All, however, agree in stating she was beautiful. Carlos was present at the ceremony, and some declare that feelings of resentment against his father for so unceremoniously depriving him of his bride, date from the time when he first beheld the beautiful French princess.

But this is hardly likely, considering that Carlos at that time was a boy of fourteen.

On the twenty-second of the same

month, Carlos was formally recognized by the Cortes of Castile as heir to the crown. The royal family, the great nobles, and the representatives of the commons were present. Carlos is said to have performed his part of the ceremony with great dignity, but it was remarked that the superb trappings of the white horse he rode, and his magnificent dress, blazing with jewels, formed a sad contrast to his sallow and sickly countenance and wasted body.

In the following year, in the hopes that change of air might benefit his health, Carlos was sent to the university of Alcalà, founded by the great Ximenes. His uncle, Philip's illegitimate brother, Don John of Austria, and his cousin, Alexander Farnese, son of the Duchess of Parma, were sent to the university at the same time.

The three boys were nearly of the same age, but there was a great difference in their personal appearance, John and Alexander being handsome, stalwart youths, studious and accomplished, giving early promise of the brilliant qualities they afterwards showed, and forming a strong contrast to their royal kinsman.

When a mere boy Carlos proved himself to be prematurely licentious, all the money he was allowed he spent upon women of low character, and those who were respected he insulted.

He had not been at the university long when he met with an accident which nearly ended fatally, and was supposed to have put the finishing touch to his incipient insanity.

The porter of the garden had a young and pretty daughter. Carlos was not long in finding out her charms. Going to a rendezvous with her, he fell down a dark stairway, his head striking against a door at the bottom of the steps. He was found insensible, removed to his chamber, and his physicians were summoned.

At first little was thought of the injury, but it was soon found to be serious. Alarming symptoms set in, fever, erysipelas, his head swelling to an enormous size, total blindness and delirium. The king's physicians were

called in, it was discovered that his skull was fractured, and trepanning was deemed necessary. The operation was performed, a portion of the bone being removed. However, the patient grew worse, and the greatest alarm spread through the country at the prospect of his death.

Every sort and kind of remedy was tried without success, and everybody was beginning to despair, when a curious remedy was proposed.

The bones of a holy Franciscan, Fray Diego, who had died a hundred years before in the odor of sanctity, were taken with great solemnity from their iron coffin, and carried to the invalid's

room.

The mouldering relics, which emitted a sweet perfume, were laid beside him, and the cloth that wrapped the skull was placed on the prince's head. Luckily for Carlos he was not in a state to be alarmed by such a gruesome bedfellow.

It is reported that Fray Diego appeared to the patient that very night and bade him "be of good cheer, for that he would certainly recover."

The good father was a true prophet; from that moment the patient began to mend, the fever left him, and his sight was restored. In two months he was able to leave his bed.

Philip at this time showed great solicitude for his son, and took up his residence at Alcalà so as to be near him during his illness.

Of course the Franciscan, or rather his bones, had the merit of the cure, and Diego was canonized; but after all the cure was not perfect. Carlos had sustained permanent injury to the brain, and his conduct afterwards always savored of insanity.

The absurd eccentricities, mad humors and excesses he indulged in, made fatal inroads on his never very robust constitution, while at the same time they were the current scandal in Madrid. He would patrol the streets with some young nobles of the same kindred habits, assaulting passers-by with drawn swords, kissing the women and insulting even ladies of the highest

epithets.

Sometimes his mad humors took a whimsical turn, as when, having need of money, he applied to a merchant, named Grimaldo, for the loan of fifteen hundred ducats. The money-lender, in the usual vein of Castilian bombast, declared, "that all he had was at his disposal," little dreaming that Carlos would take him at his word and tell him to hand over a hundred thousand ducats.

Grimaldo, astounded at the ruin that he had thus invited, in vain declared "that he had only used the words in a complimentary sense," Carlos replied, "he had no right to bandy compliments with princes; and if he did not in fourand-twenty hours pay the money to the last real, he and his family would have cause to rue it."

The unhappy money-lender had to find the sum of sixty thousand ducats, Ruy Gomez de Silva, the prince's governor, having prevailed upon him to accept that lesser sum.

It was a pretty sharp lesson for the money-lender, who must have regretted putting his trust in a prince. It is stated that Carlos squandered the money as quickly as he had obtained it, but it is not recorded whether it was ever repaid to Grimaldo.

Another ludicrous anecdote is told of the heir apparent. It was the fashion to wear very large boots. The prince had his made even larger than ordinary, and in them he used to carry a pair of small pistols. Philip, perhaps afraid of the consequences of his son's carrying about with him such dangerous weapons, ordered the boots to be made smaller. Carlos, having given his chamberlain, Don Pedro Manuel, orders for a new pair to be made, fell into a furious rage on discovering their curtailed dimensions; he swore at Don Pedro and gave him a sounding box on the ear for thus conspiring with the king against his will and pleasure. But upon the unlucky shoemaker fell the brunt of his wrath. He sent for the culprit, gave him a beating and a dinner. But such a dinner! He had

and seasoned, and forced the unfortunate maker to eat the unsavory mess. The man, who expected nothing less than death, was only too glad to comply, and swallowed as much of the stew as he could get down. The account does not state whether he suffered from indigestion after his meal, but it is more than probable.

Carlos once violently assaulted his governor, Don Garcia de Toledo. At another time he was only just prevented in time from throwing his chamberlain, Don Alonzo de Cordova, out of the window.

These noblemen, not unnaturally, complained to the king of these insults which they could not resent, and begged to be released from their posts. Philip transferred them to his own service, putting in their vacant places Ruy Gomez de Silva, Prince of Eboli, and Don Pedro Manuel.

Even the mighty Alva, and no less a person than Cardinal Espinosa, the grand inquisitor, met with scant courtesy from the prince. Espinosa detained at his palace an actor, who had been commanded by Don Carlos to perform a favorite part. Some say that it was by Philip's orders, others that the detention was accidental; anyway, the fury of the prince was aroused, and when he met the cardinal, he seized him roughly by the throat, and, drawing his dagger, he swore, "by the soul of his father, he would kill the scurvy priest." The trembling prelate fell on his knees, and begged for mercy, but it was only the opportune entrance of Philip, which saved the grand inquisitor from the design of the infuriated prince.

He was highly indignant that the command in the Netherlands was given to Alva; he wanted it himself; therefore, when the duke came to pay his respects to him before his departure, Carlos flew at him, and tried to kill him with his dagger. Alva, being the stronger managed to hold him tight till help came and he was disarmed.

The proceedings of Don Carlos were