to do during the next six weeks, she ladies admire Val. He's quite a wowould have grumbled yet more than she man's man.” did over her wrongs. As it was, Master Augustus John Mortimer came home from school for his long holidays, and he and his friends excited more noise, bustle, and commotion in the house than all the other children put together.

I shall not do so in any case. How do I know whether the only use people may make of it (and that a metaphorical "So they are at home again," she ex-one) may not be to throw it at me ever claimed; and now we'll hear all about the wedding that is to be. I've been just wearying for the parteeculars, and there never were such bad letter-writers as those girls. Anyhow there'll be a handsome bridegroom."

his name is concerned, used his one chance; and if, in maturer life, he writes something high and good, then if he wants his wise child to live, he must consent to die himself with the foolish one. It is much the same with one who has become notorious through the doing of some base or foolish action. If he repent, rise to better things, and write a noble book, he must not claim it as if it could elevate him. It must go forth on its own merits, or it will not be recognized for what it is, only for what he is or was. No, if a man wants to bring in new thoughts or work elevating changes, he must not clog them with a name that has been despised."

sidered it for a week. 'Drive on, Samivel.'"

"But I don't agree with him," said Miss Christie. "When I read a book I aye dislike to be left in any doubt what the man means or what the story means."

"I always think it a great proof of power in a writer," said Brandon, "when he consciously or unconsciously makes his reader feel that he knows a vast deal more about his characters than he has chosen to tell. And what a keen sense some have of the reality of their invented men and women! So much so that you may occasionally see evident tokens that they are jealous of them. They cannot bear to put all the witty and clever speeches into the mouths of these fetches' of their own imagination. Some must be saved up to edge in as a "You had better write it about your-sly aside, a sage reflection of the auselves, then," said John, "that being thor's own. There never should be any nearly all you study just now, I should author's asides." think. Many a novel contains the author and little else. He explains himself in trying to describe human nature."

"I think Dorothea and I may as well write a book together," said Valentine. "She did begin one, but somehow it stuck fast."

"Human nature!" exclaimed Valentine; "we must have something grander than that to write of, I can tell you. We have read so many books that turn it 'the seamy side outward,' and point out the joins as if it was a glove, that we cannot condescend to it."

"I don't know about that," John answered, "but I often feel offended with authors who lack imagination to see that a group of their own creations would not look in one another's eyes just what they look in his own. The author's pretty woman is too often pretty to all; his wit is acknowledged as a wit by all. The difference of opinion comes from the readers. They differ certainly."

"Even 1," observed Valentine, "if I were an author's wit, might be voted a bore, and how sad that would be, for in real life it is only right to testify that I find little or no difference of opinion."

He spoke in a melancholy tone, and heaved up a sigh.

"Is cousin Val a wit?" asked little Hugh.

"No," said John, setting off on the subject again as if he was most seriously considering it, Valentine meanwhile smil ing significantly on the others. "It is a mistake to describe too much from within. The external life as we see it should rather be given, and about as much of the motives and springs of action as an intelligent man with good opportunity could discover. We don't want "I am afraid I am," said Valentine; to be told all. We do not know all about" they're always saying so, and it's very those we live with, and always have lived unkind of them to talk about it, because with. If ever I took to writing fiction II couldn't help it, could I?" should not pretend to know all about my characters. The author's world appears small if he makes it manifest that he reigns there. I don't understand myself thoroughly. How can I understand so many other people? I cannot fathom them. My own children often surprise me. If I believed thoroughly in the children of my pen, they would write themselves down sometimes in a fashion that I had not intended."

"John talks like a book," observed Valentine. "You propose a subject, and he lays forth his views as if he had con

Here the little Anastasia, touched with pity by the heartfelt pathos of his tone, put her dimpled hand in his and said tenderly, "Never mind, dear, it'll be better soon, p'raps, and you didn't do it on purpose.'

"Does it hurt?" asked Hugh, also full of ruth.

"Be ashamed of yourself," whispered Miss Christie, "to work on the dear children's feelings so. No, my sweet mannie, it doesn't hurt a bit."

"I'm very much to be pitied," proceeded Valentine. "That isn't all

he sighed again "I was born with aa good look at him, I should say that you bad French accent, and without a single are even more like him than he is himtooth in my head, or out of it, while such self-but- I may be mistaken." was my weakness, that it took two strong men, both masters of arts, to drag me through the rudiments of the Latin grammar."

Anastasia's eyes filled with tears. It seemed so sad; the tender little heart had not gone yet into the question of seeming.

"They teached you the Latin grammar, did they?" said Bertram, who had also been listening, and was relieved to hear of something in this list of miseries that he could understand. "That's what Miss Crampton teaches me. I don't like it, and you didn't either, then. I'm six and three quarters; how old were you?"

"I won't say it then," said, Bertram, now quite convinced.

"And I won't, and I won't," added others, as they ran forward to open a gate.

"Cheer up, John," said St. George, "let us not see so much beauty and vir tue cast down. There's Miss Crampton looking out of the schoolroom window."

But though he laughed he did not deceive John Mortimer, who knew as well as possible that the loss of Dorothea Graham pressed heavily on his heart.

"You two are going to dine with me, of course," he said, when all the party had passed into the wilderness beyond his garden.

Before Valentine had answered, John and Brandon, finding themselves before "On the contrary, with your leave," the party, had stopped and turned. answered Valentine, "we are going to Brandon was surprised to see how ear-take a lesson of Swan in the art of budnestly the two elder children, while he ding roses. We cannot manage it to our talked, had been looking at him, and then minds. We dined early." at their father and Valentine. At last, when this pause occurred, and the two groups met, Janie said

"And I suppose you will agree with Val," observed Brandon, "that a rosegarden is one of the necessaries of

"I am sure papa is a great deal pret-life." tier than Mr. Brandon, and cousin Val looks quite ugly beside him."

"Yes, Janie," said Bertram, with an air of high satisfaction, "papa's much more beautiful than either of the others. "I shall ask Miss Crampton when I go in if she doesn't think so. You would like to know, what she thinks, wouldn't you, father?"

John had opened his mouth to say no, when his better sense coming to his aid, he forbore to speak. For this lady taught his children to perfection, but his friends always would insist that she wanted to teach him too something that he wouldn't learn.

Aunt Christie, his constant friend and champion, presently spoke for him.

"No, children," she said, as soon as she had composed her voice to a due gravity, "it's natural ye should admire your father, good children generally do, but, now, if I were you, I would never tell anybody at all, not even Miss Crampton-do ye hear me, all of you? I would never tell anybody your opinion of him. If ye do, they will certainly think ye highly conceited, for ye know quite well that people say you four little ones are just as exactly like him as ye can

be."

The children were evidently impressed. “In fact,” said Valentine, "now I take

"Dorothea must have one, must she, out in New Zealand? Well, Swan will be proud to teach you anything he knows or doesn't know, and he will give you an opinion if you ask it on any subject whatever."

Accordingly John went into the house to dine, and perhaps it was in consequence of this assertion that the two young men asked their old friend's opinion on various points not at all in his line. Valentine even told him that his brother intended to write a book, and asked him what he thought it had better be about; whereupon Swan, while deftly shaping his bud, shook his head gravely, and said that wanted a deal of thinking over.

"But if I was you, sir," he continued, speaking to Brandon, "I should get Mr. Mortimer - Mr. John to help you, specially if there's going to be any foreign talk in it. My word, I don't believe there's any language going that Mr. Mortimer can't lay his tongue to!"

From The Pall Mall Gazette. THE SUEZ CANAL. NOTWITHSTANDING the annual meetings of the shareholders in Paris, the actual financial position and prospects of

the Suez canal have been much of myste-1 of 3 3-4 per cent; that it must certainly ries hitherto at all events to English- have been improving its position in the men. We knew that great sums had past year; and that there can hardly fail been spent in the construction; that the to be a progressive advance, although original estimates had been enormously there must necessarily be a variety of exceeded; that the cost of foreign labour opinions as to the amount of it. employed had involved a great expendi- Looking at the position his grand ture of life and money; and, moreover, project has already attained to, M. Ferdiwe could fancy that the system of back-nand de Lesseps may well be proud. He shish so common in the East must have had to fight a hard battle against formibeen in full operation, and that M. Les-dable odds on a field that kept shifting seps' diplomatic gifts and indefatigable under his feet like the sands of the desenergy must necessarily have been backed ert. He had to argue, to bargain, to up by heavy draughts on the expectations bribe, and sometimes as you must do of his company. At last, however, these when you have to carry your point with mysteries seem to be happily dissipated. Orientals to bully. Nothing could The shares of the company are admitted have enabled him to triumph over such to formal quotation on our stock-ex-opposition but a very rare combination change; and, thanks in especial to one of qualities. He united indomitable peror two admirably sound and lucid articles severance to considerable powers of perin the Economist, the English speculator suasion, aided by the contagious earnestmay calculate approximately what are the ness of profound conviction. He had chances of an investment in Suez Canal- necessarily a good deal of the gambler's shares. temperament, with a marvellous gift of We may say at once that the company's abstraction and self-control, even when balance-sheet is more satisfactory than the exciting game had drawn on to its might have been expected, and much climax. Those who saw him on the day more satisfactory than has been generally the canal was opened still for the most believed. It shows that the present mar-part regarded him as a visionary and ket-price of the property is by no means enthusiast. Rumours were general that excessive, according to the estimates of the "game was up" after all, and his experts, or in consideration of the com- canal a failure: that at certain places it pany's prospects in reference to the facts had proved impossible to keep the indisand figures placed before us. In round pensable depth of water above the heavnumbers, the works appear to have costing mud of the bottom. It was £19,000,000. From that sum, however, that a vessel had stuck fast, and the cir£6,000,000 has to be deducted, which cumstance gave consistency to the siniswas derived from other sources than the pockets of the shareholders; it came chiefly in the way of indemnity for rash concessions by the khedive that were subsequently retracted. But in withdrawing these first concessions of extensive riverain desert, the company was still permitted to retain considerable domains round such centres of its traffic as Port Saïd and Ismailia. The consequence is, as the Economist puts it, that it is in possession of a property at £6,000,000 below cost price, as well as of very considerable stretches of soil or sand which probably may advance materially in value. The receipts for 1873those for 1874 have not been issued -were £991,coo. The expenditure amounted to £225,000. The cost of working is said to be no more than 23 per cent. From the net balance of £766,ooo of profit must be deducted a sum of £469,000, appropriated to various preferential claims. But the upshot is that the company was earning in 1873 a dividend

a fact

ter reports in circulation. Impartial strangers who were most hopeful were inclined at best to believe that but an ephemeral triumph had been achieved at an utterly disproportionate price. To all outward seeming, the confidence of M. Lesseps himself had never been shaken for a single moment. He had made a dash up the canal in the early morning to see to the stoppage. He came back serene and smiling to figure as the host in the ceremonies of the day. He took his place himself in the biggest and most awkward vessel of the whole fleet of the messageries impériales; and when the whole train of ships had filed through, and when Suez had been reached with scarcely a check or detention, he expressed his conviction, with his habitual emotional confidence, that his scheme must be a grand commercial success, and must work a revolution in the trade of the world.

We think it only honest to record all this, now that his sanguine expectations

system which immediately control the muscles are by no means dormant, as the sudden cramp and painful start sufficiently show. The spinal cord is awake and capable of function even in insubordinate excess, unrestrained by any higher centre. The action of the lower centres And in mat-is restrained by the inhibitory influence which the higher centres exercise over them, and during sleep this is withdrawn. The muscular spasm, which rudely wakes the sleeper to consciousness of pain, may never occur while the brain is active and alert; and, as far as can be understood,

seem likely to be fulfilled. It is true, as | absence of all outward sign of consciousthe Economist very shrewdly pointed out, ness and will, which are seemingly withthat the calculations on which he founded drawn from all connection with the orhis estimates have been materially falsi- gans of sense, or with those of motion, fied in one respect. He looked forward by which their existence could be manito having his canal freely used by the fested. But the functions of the muscles sailing-ships that hitherto had been sub-and of the lower portions of the nervous jected to costly delays in weathering the storms of the passage round the cape. As it has turned out, scarcely any sailingvessels are being towed through the isthmus, and steam has been running sails off the route. But the main fact remains, that he is diverting the Eastern trade as he proposed to do. ters of engineering detail, events have marvellously confirmed his opinions and experiments, and those of his advisers. It was said the treacherous bottom of Lake Menzaleh was likely to present insuperable difficultites. So far as we can learn, that part of the passage has pre-it is only in the withdrawal of a higher sented in practice no difficulties at all. central influence that the difference beIt was said the banks of incohesive sand tween the states of the spinal cord in the must crumble in places to the mere mo- waking and sleeping condition consists. tion of the screws or paddles of passing Thus the same tendency of unrestrained steamers. It would appear that the banks excessive action obtains during sleep in have not crumbled, nor has the channel both higher and lower centres. A very been filled up seriously, even where the similar relation may be traced in the insurface of the desert is loosest and most voluntary intellectual action which condrifting. The silting at the terminal har-stitutes a dream. The will has absolutebours, especially at Port Saïd from the ly no control over the train of ideas. Nile-drift, has been counteracted by They may arise in apparent spontaneity, dredging. There are extra expenses or more rarely as a consequence of some awaiting the company no doubt; but waking thought or state, and may run they arise for the most part out of its their course entirely uncontrolled and success. Passing places must be multi- uncontrollable, uninfluenced not only by plied, and, not improbably, it may come the will, but by the accumulated expeto be needful to widen the canal through-rience of the waking hours, so that the out its whole length. Profits beyond a absurd inconsistencies and impossible certain point will be partially neutralized relations of the fancied action excite no by the stipulation that insists upon sense of doubt or wonder. They pass charges being modified should the traf-away as mysteriously as they commenced, fic increase in a certain ratio. But even and their track may be so separated from adopting the Economist's moderate esti-the lines of waking thought that, like a mate of a probable annual increment in the net profits of five per cent., the ultimate success of the company seems ensured.

DREAMS.

From The Lancet.

THE intrinsic study of dreams throws little light upon their physiology. It is only by a comparative examination of them, studying them in common with the other phenomena of sleep, that they can be in any measure understood. The characteristic of the state of sleep is the

distant second image in diplopic vision, the existence of which may be unknown till an accident reveals its place and character, their occurrence may be unsuspected until some chance association reproduces them.

Thus the same tendency to unrestrained excess of action obtains during sleep in both higher and lower regions of nervous phenomena, in both brain and cord. And in some other details a further analogy may be traced. The physical sensation which excites a reflex movement is effective in proportion to its unaccustomed character. A sudden change of sensation may provoke the movement which a constant pain fails to elicit