science for its friend, while the assurance of its gratification would be attended with the most excellent results. Nevertheless it must remain ungratified if there be any truth in scientific principles.

Elijah Holdfast.—I did not quite make out from the Doctor's words that he was prepared to bring forward a scientific proof of the impos sibility of immortality. I rather imagined that while he had on the one hand an 'unscientific feeling' of the advantage of immortality, he had on the other a 'scientific feeling' (whatever that may mean) of its impossibility. But if the Doctor has got a proof, that is a very different thing, and the subject is one which may be profitably discussed. Perhaps I, in my turn, may be allowed to 'feel an assurance' that when this discussion is complete, the mistake will be found to be transferred to somewhat different shoulders from those on which the Doctor supposes it now to rest.

Stephen Fairbank.-Well, well, gentlemen, we are now nearing home, and I have two

remarks to make. The first is, that I am sure we shall all be delighted if Dr. Stoffkraft will give us his argument against Immortality. The second is, that in the Paradoxical Society no one is supposed to know beforehand the subject of the debate.

Dr. Hermann Stoffkraft.-Pray, my dear sir, what conclusion do you draw from these two disjointed remarks?

Stephen Fairbank.-Only this, Doctor, that we shall all look to you to open the debate in the Paradoxical.

CHAPTER III.

DOCTOR STOFFKRAFT OPENS THE DEBATE.

'GENTLEMEN,' said a conjuror, one fine starry evening, 'these heavens are a deceptio visûs; what you call stars are nothing but fiery motes in the air.' . . . Whereupon the artist produced a long syringe of great force; and ... filled it with mud and dirty water, which he then squirted with might and main against the zenith. The wiser of the company unfurled their umbrellas; but most part, looking up in triumph, cried, 'Down with delusion! It is an age of science!'... Here the mud and dirty water fell, and bespattered and beplastered these simple persons, and even put out the eyes of several, so that they never saw the stars any more.

THOMAS CARLYLE.

AT the breakfast table next morning Sir Kenneth presented himself, punctual to the minute, and without a trace of that négligé which is, too often tolerated even among those who have not allowed themselves to sink into effeminacy or luxury.

Holdfast and the host were already there, eagerly scanning the morning papers, so utterly absorbed in their political excitement as to

pay no attention to one another, nor to Miss Fairbank, who sat watching them with some amusement. Sir Kenneth, smiling at their abstraction, engaged in a lively discussion with the young lady, and no one seemed to think of breakfast. At last Holdfast threw down the Times, and hastily apologising to Miss Fairbank, thus addressed Sir Kenneth :

Elijah Holdfast.-Well, Sir Kenneth, we have carried our man after all at St. Oran. I must say I am surprised, for I could hardly conceive a worse specimen to bring forward. I told them that it was an utter mistake-that we should have to run our very best available man in order to have any chance against the Master of Glenstriven, with his many advantages of character, influence, and even clanship. They merely said, 'We know our men,' and the event has justified them. But I never could understand Scotland.

Sir Kenneth M Kelpie.-I am grieved, but not surprised. Were I less of a Scotsman than I am I should have given up Scotland long ago.

But painful, and even ridiculous, as I feel this last business to be, I receive it as an additional proof that things will soon mend.

Stephen Fairbank.-You were always a paradoxer, Sir Kenneth, but this is quite unintelligible to me-unless from the common point of view that when things are at the worst they begin to mend.

Sir Kenneth M'Kelpie.-Even that saying is mathematically correct. What is the definition of a minimum? But, unfortunately, it never can be applied in proper time, for things require to begin to mend before we can be sure that they have yet reached the worst. My hope is based upon better grounds, which I think I can give you in a few words.

It is all a question of education. Now there can be no doubt that the education of the average voter is in Scotland (to a small extent at least) higher than it is in England. But it is as yet far from having risen to culture; and, in consequence, while he has lost the semi-slavish admiration for rank, wealth, or