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his master. But it was not on such matters that we found the Lady-Principal, when we returned to her, most disposed to dwell. Scotland—Scotland yet! was her theme,—its hills and its heather, its rivers and its towns; above all, thj pedigrees of its old families.

Now I have laid before my readers nothing new, nothing exciting, perhaps nothing interesting. If I am asked why I should have talked so long about a country so thoroughly explored by British tourists, I can but reply in the words of Balzac: "Ne me deinandez plus pourquoi j'alme la Touraine; je ne l'aime ni comme on aime son berceau, ni comme on aime uue oasis dans le desert; je l'aime comme un artiste aime l'art."

From The Spectator. JACK'S FRIENDS.

It is needless to say that all Jack's friends are heroes. If you were to get him to note the fact he would, without doubt, accept it as most natural. Of course they are; they would not be his friends if they were not. That is the line Jack would be sure to take, for there is no sort of misgiving in his mind on two points: (1) That people do not count at all if they are not cast in the heroic mould, i.e., cannot outshy, outshout, outrun, outswim, and outclimb every one with whom they can possibly be compared. (2) That all his friends are people who count, and therefore are cast in the heroic mould. The late Master of Balliol is said to have remarked to an enthusiastic undergraduate who discovered men of extraordinary genius in every batch of freshmen, "I'm afraid,

Mr. , all your swans are geese:" but

no one, not an iced wet blanket in human shape could say anything of that sort to Jack while he recounts the "Iliad" of his friends' doings. But, in truth, there is not the slightest temptation to do so at the moment. Jack's blazing blue eyes and flushed cheeks carry conviction with all his recitals. The hearers catch the infection, and seriously believe while they listen that Robinson or Smith, the garden-boy next door, or whoever may be in question.

is, In reality, a monstrous fine fellow. Of course disillusionment sometimes comes when the parent meets the hero in the flesh, but that is an accident cheerfully borne. Children of eight have a fine sense of compassion for their elders' induration of spirit, and are not seriously troubled when, and if, they perceive that you do not quite take their friends at their proper value. Your want of appreciation, unless very boldly expressed, is only an example of the usual blindness of grown-up people. You do not regard the thicket as a mighty forest full of wild beasts; and you are clearly ignorant of the fact that the road swarms with brigands and pirates, for do not you habitually cross it without carrying arms and without throwing out scouts or sending on a picket to hold the banks while the main body comes up. How, then, can you be expected to understand all the great qualities of Harry Smith and Bill Dickinson? The embarrassment of disillusionment, if any, falls entirely on the parents. One of Jack's heroes is a certain schoolfellow called Jameson minor. By Jack's account he is indeed a lad of mettle,—a very devil of a fellow, who fears neither boy nor schoolmistress. Even his admitted faults are superb. "He's dreadfully cocky, father. He'd cheek the whole school and not care a button. He doesn't mind an atom about any one or anything, and even when Rawlins, the head of the school, told him to shut up, he wouldn't." It was an awful moment when Jack proposed to bring home Jameson minor to lunch. "Do you think we shall be able to manage him?" said Jack's mother, !n solemn conclave with Jack's father, and the latter, after he had rashly consented, had not a few qualms. Suppose Jameson minor was really all that he was painted, might not the result of that luncheon be extremely disastrous not only to the windows of the house, but to the whole moral atmosphere? If Jameson minor was really capable of cheeking the whole school, he would probably not think twice about cheeking his host. Boys know and care nothing about the canons of hospitality, and to Jameson minor the host would only bo Jack's pater. And if Jameson minor were to cheek his host, what was to be done then? It would be clearly useless to tell him to "shut up," for had not Rawlins tried that and failed? Imagine the ignominy of trying to steal Rawlins's thunder and failing. But if Jameson minorcould not be made to shut up, what would be the effect on the household? It is not always easy as it is to keep Jack in order. Would it not be infinitely harder after he had witnessed » conflict between Jameson minor and his own father, in which his father was discomfited? And then the maids. It would not be pleasant to be worsted in front of them by a boy of eight and a half. It may be imagined that it was with quaking hearts that the visit of Jameson minor was expected by Jack's parents. As the wheels of the trap were heard on the drive Jack's mother almost gave way. "I'm afraid they'll be dreadfully excited when they arrive, for the garden-boy is driving them, and Jack and he. even when they are alone, get very obstreperous, and what it will be now

I "But it is too late for such repin

ings. and both parents feel that the only possible course is to pull themselves together and look unconcerned. Jack's mother somewhat hopelessly tries to draw courage from stories about a woman's gentle dignity i-owing the rowdiest mobs—"Of course a boy like that is very much worse than a mob of men, but still it might have some eifect" —while Jack's father remembers that lions and savages can bo controlled by the human eye, and hopes he shall not wink if he is obliged to have recourse to this expedient upon Jameson minor. And now the "tub" is at the door, and Jack scrambles out over the shaft—he always says he "forgets about the door" —while the garden-boy, strangely calm considering the circumstances, gets out, trying to imitate the behavior of the groom. At last descends the hero of the hour. Can this really be Jameson minor? Is this he who cheeked the whole school, and would not shut up even at the command of Rawlins?

This timid-eyed little boy in an Eton jacket and a broad collar "the cockiest boy you ever saw!" Never was the heart of a swashbuckling, truculent ne'er-do-well hidden by so mild an exterior. Jameson minor, the cockiest boy you ever saw!—why he is like a mouse in a trap. There is no possibility of trying to quell him with the human eye, for you cannot induce him to look you in the face. As he puts out a frightened little hand he stares at his boots, and his "How-de-do" sounds thin and weak. The relief is great. The windows are safe, the hens are safe, the baby is safe, and, best of all, the discipline of the house is safe. There is no fear of Jameson minor not shutting up when told to do so. The only fear is that he will keep shut up all through the afternoon and embarrass the household by his shyness and his silence. Strangely enough Jack seems quite unaware of how the situation has been revolutionized. He does not even seem to notice that Jameson minor is feeling shy. One almost expects him to explain: "It's all right, father. He'll begin presently. He's only feeling strange just for a minute." Not a bit of it. No sort of explanation is offered or apparently thought necessary- And, after all, why should we expect it? When we have been beating the wood for pirates, and it has become painfully obvious that there is not a single one there. Jack never thinks of explaining away their absence or apologizing for the absence of their buried treasure. He. God bless him! never notices the patent discrepancy between his fancies and the facts, Why should be behave differently about Jameson minor? Jameson minor is still to him what he was before, no more nnd no less. It is, after all. only a question of the point of view. The mistake arose through acting as if Jack's point of view could be transferred from him to a grown-up person. And yet so strong was the impression obtained from Jack that the parental mind still retains a feeling that perhaps after all Jameson minor is not what he seems. It may be that "on his day" be is still the cockiest boy in the world and capable of the wildest enormities, and that it was merely an accident that made things go off so well.

In regard to some of Jack's friends and i.eroes one is more easily disillusioned. For example, the garden-boy. You cannot by any means be led to think upon him and what is glorious together. Yet there is something very piquant in contrasting him as seen from your end of the telescope and from Jack's. You think of him as an unholy urchin, of whom the gardener is perpetually complaining. The cook is almost sure that it was he who let the tap run all night and emptied the cisterns. It was proved beyond a doubt that he posted the letters in his pocket instead of in the box in the wall. The way in which the cats fly before him has a horrid significance, and though he has never been caught torturing the puppy, he is justly suspected of having tried to tie a sardine-box to its tail. In truth, the boy is what old-fashioned people call "a warmint." But to Jack he is a hero indeed. He is sixteen next birthday, and "quite as strong as a man," and yet admittedly still a bey and not gone over to the enemy,—the grown-ups, who like clean hands, who think it nasty to keep a toad in your trouserpockets, and who do not realize the value of "rare crystals" detected in very muddy stones. Jack would follow the garden-boy through fire and water, and his tales of that worthy's prowess are innumerable. "Do you know, father, that William is captain of the Peddling, ton boys' team, and that they would have beaten the men's this year if they hadn't been very unlucky at the beginning? And father, do listen, his average is thirty if you don't count the four first matches, which is quite fair.as they were in April, and he thinks he'll be a professional and get hundreds of pounds, if his uncle, who's very rich, doesn't take him to mind the shop and go out with the donkey-cart, and he can ride a horse quite well, at least he thinks he could if he tried, and last year he was fourth in the obstacle race at the Oddfellows' fete; and do you think I could go there this year because there are fire

works, and William could look after me much better than nurse, because he's so much more careful, and doesn't forget things like she does, does he. mother?" Another day Jack will explain how beautifully William can mend various objects of use and ornament, and when you say, "But he broke my bicycle and the mowing machine, and ruined the scythe," Jack will reply, quite unconvinced, "Oh, that was when he was trying to make them go better; but you should see the catapult he made, and I exchanged for my pigeon and a shilling and one of baby's dolls for his little sister" In truth, it is all the point of view. William is quite as genuine an Admirable Crichton to Jack as he is an unwashed rapscallion to the rest of the house. Neither is deceived. Only there remains the wonder of childhood. The poet's alchemy is nothing to that which is to be found in Jack's mind. It makes pure gold where it will, and contrives a new heaven and a new earth in an instant. After fourteen or fifteen it will begin to fade, and by seventeen not a trace of the alchemist faculty will be left. But meantime what a gift is Jack's. Kancy, if we could see all our dull friends of the office and club as Jack sees his. Colonel Dicks, an Alexander with the light of conquest on his brows; Minchley (the bore who wrote the epic), a divine Homer; Heavyside, the M.P., a Solon. Truly the world would then be a much more entertaining place thau it seems now. If Jack could catch the drift of this, would not he also say "Amen," and add that he had one more proof of the duiness and folly of grown-up people? A little make-believe and they would be twice as happy, and yet the stupids refuse to take the needful step, and go on. seeing lead where they might see gold. "They are a lot of \iffers."

From Public Opinion. THE POOL OF SII.OAM

The excavations which are being made in Jerusalem have disclosed much that was hitherto unknown about the Pool of Siloam. The identification of the site of this pool is important because of its bearing on the situation of the city walls. It has hitherto been considered that the Pool of Siloam, shown to every visitor of Jerusalem, was one of the few undisputed localities in the topography of the sacred city. Now, however, as investigation progresses, doubts have been raised on this point . Among archaeologists a contest Iims arisen as complicated as that concerning the site of Calvary, the sepulchre, and other sacred places in Jerusalem. The Pool of Siloam is in size the least of all the Jerusalem pools, which from the most ancient times have been relied upon by the inhabitants to store up water from the springs. It had, however, the singular characteristic of suddenly increasing in depth as the water poured in from some unknown source.

The Pool of Siloam, although small in size, played an important part in the sacred history of Jerusalem. It was to Siloam that the Levite was sent with the golden pitcher on the "last and great day of the feast" of Tabernacles; it was from Siloam that he brought the water which was then poured over the sacrifice in memory of the water from the rock of Kephldim. It was to this Siloam water that the Lord pointed when he stood in the Temple and cried, "If any man thirst let him come unto me and drink." The Lord sent the blind man to wash at the Pool of Siloam. the sacredness and efficacy of whose waters are still believed in at Jerusalem. The Pool of Siloam. which has now been almost wholly uncovered and which is the one formerly shown to visitors, is eighteen and one half feet in depth, fourteen feet wide at one end and seventeen at the other. The water in it is maintained at a depth of three to four feet, but is likely to rise a foot or more at any moment. It is faced with a wall of stone, now greatly out of repair. Several columns stand out of the side walls extending from the top downward into the cistern. The water passes out of the pool through a chan

nel cut in the rock, which is covered for a short distance. This subsequently opens and discloses a lively, copious stream which empties into a garden planted with fig-trees. Jerome, who lived only six miles from the Pool of Siloam, refers to the intermittent character of its waters, which has led some historians to identify it with Bethesda. Josephus speaks of its waters as having been very abundant, but recent investigations do not bear this out.

There are a large number of somewhat similar pools in Jerusalem, which has thirty or forty natural springs within a radius of eight miles. If it could be shown that one of these was in reality the Pool of Siloam, whose location has not hitherto been questioned, it would add a still further confusing element to the discussion of the historical sites in Jerusalem. Many of the most important places depend for their identification upon their nearness to or remoteness from the Pool of Siloam. The mysterious ebb and flow of the waters of the present pool has been largely relied upon as sufficiently proving its identity with that referred to in the Scriptures. It has now. however, been found that a similar phenomenon takes place in the Fountain of the Virgin, which is close by. There the water rose a foot in five minutes, and within five minutes more it sank to Its former level. It is believed that the excavations which are being made in Jerusalem may explain this apparent mystery, which nobody has yet been able to account for.

Conscience and Health.—He that loses his conscience has nothing left that is worth keeping. Therefore be sure you look to that. And iu the next place look to 5-our health, and if you have it, praise God, and value it next to a good conscience, for health is the second blessing that we mortals are capable of—a blessing that money cannot buy: therefore value it. and be thankful for it.

Isaac Walton.

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CONTENTS.

I. Hjaltland. By Colonel T. P. White, . Scottish Review, . . 643

II. The Lady Of The Lock. By M. E.

Francis, Longman's Magazine, . . 660

III. Charilaos Trikoupes. By James D.

Bourchier, Fortnightly Review, . . 670

IV. La Saisiaz In 1895. By A. Taylor

Innes, Contemporary Review, . . 678

V. Pages From A Private Diary, . . Cornhill Magazine, . . . 689

VI. Dainties or Animal Diet, . . Spectator, .... 698

VII. Etymological Superstitions, . . Le Magasin Plttoresque, . 701

VIII. In A Lighthouse, .... Casselt's Saturday Journal,. 702

IX. An Interrupted Thanksgiving, . Speaker, .... 703

Poetry.

The Elgin Marrles, . . . 642 I "If Not Without The Rlameless Flowers Invisirle, . . . 642 [ Human Tears," . . . 642

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