which they are effected is the same, but it suggests a suspicion of their identity which needs careful testing.

And it must be allowed to be possible, that further research may reveal the existence of something comparable to a nervous system in plants.' Speaking of an organism called 'Heteromita,' he continues:-"There is no reason why Heteromita may not be a plant; and this conclusion would be very satisfactory, if it were not equally easy to show that there is really no reason why it should not be an animal.

The difference between plant and animal may be one of degree rather than of kind; and the problem whether in a given case an organism is an animal or a plant, may be essentially insoluble.'

Flowers are worthy our attention, if for no other reason than that they are beautiful. When Gladstone advises the British artist and workman to improve his knowledge that he may be able to take a first rank in the markets of the world, he is equally urgent in recommending a cultivation of the sense of Beauty, so that the human soul may not lack the food which is necessary for its development. 'I remember the time,' says Gladstone, 'when you were laughed at in the refined circles of our great metropolis, if you contended that the human being as such was musical; you were considered a fool, a dreamer, an enthusiast. People used to say in answer, "I can't tell one note from another; I don't care anything about music ;" and my wont was to reply by saying, "If the nurse who carried you when you were three months old, had continued to carry you until you were forty years old, you would not be able to walk." If there be those,' continues Gladstone, who have absolutely no sense of music, they are analogous to those who are born blind and are entitled to sympathy as being excluded from one of the most charming enjoyments. I believe it is exactly the same in respect to the sense of Beauty.'

It was the pride, the aspiration of the Greeks, that everything should bear the stamp of Beauty. This idea was ever present with them, so that the love of the beautiful became to them an inheritance. They took great pleasure in horticultural pursuits, and flowers were considered indispensable at all their festivals. Floral decoration was a profession at Athens. Artists composed flower-groups, with a view to symbolize certain mythological ideas or beliefs.

In the several paths of industry that are opening to women, might not one be found in the cultivation of flowers, and in floral decoration? As I watched a gardener take up a pure white camelia, and some rich damask rose-buds, blending them with a few feathery fronds of ferns, I thought, what an exquisite occupation, and how eminently fitted for women! You seem to find in your plants a nover-failing source of delight?' said one to the gardener. 'Yes,' was the reply, 'somehow the more I love them, the more I love God.'

Remembering how mysteriously and almost unconsciously we are influenced, it might be well for us to take a lesson from the Greeks, and aim at making our surroundings elevating and suggestive. To cultivate the beautiful, because it is beautiful, is reason enough. To him who would say, 'but the beautiful must first be practically useful,' I will quote a few words from an eminent German philosopher, when writing on the subject of genius :'Genius produces no works of practical value. Music is composed, poetry conceived, pictures painted-a work of genius is never a thing to use. Uselessness is its title to honour. Works of genius exist for their own sake, or may be considered the very flower and bloom of destiny. This is why the enjoyment of art so uplifts our hearts. A temple is never a dwelling-place.' The same idea is prettily illustrated by Schiller, in his story of Pegasus, the winged horse of the Muses.' It is re

lated that the horse was once sold by a needy poet, and being put to draw the plough, he became quite passive, spirit-broken and useless. It happened at length that a gallant young hero came by, and requested permission to mount the animal. No sooner had he done so, than Pegasus recovered his former spirit, raised himself with an air of pride, bounded off, and finally was seen to soar heaven-ward.

Prof. Huxley has described to us his Ideal University. What does he think about the cultivation of the asthetic faculty?

'In an ideal university, a man should be able to obtain instruction in all forms of knowledge, and discipline in the use of all the methods by which knowledge is obtained. In such a university, the force of living example should fire the student with a noble ambition to emulate the learning of learned men, and to follow in the footsteps of the explorers of new fields of knowledge. And the very air he breathes should be changed with that enthusiasm for truth, that fanaticism of veracity, which is a greater possession than much learning; a nobler gift than the power of increasing knowledge; by so much greater and nobler than these, as the moral nature of man is greater than the intellectual-for veracity is the heart of morality. But the man who is all morality and intellect, although he may be good and even great, is, after all, only half a man. There is beauty in the moral world, and in the intellectual world; but there is also a beauty which is neither moral nor intellectual-the beauty of the world of art. There are men who are devoid of the power of seeing it, as there are men who are born deaf and blind, and the loss of those, as of these, is simply infinite. There are others in whom it is an overpowering passion: happy men, born with the productive, or, at low

est, the appreciative, genius of the artist. But, in the mass of mankind, the aesthetic faculty, like the reasoning power and the moral sense, needs to be roused, directed, and cultivated; and I know not why the development of that side of his nature, through which man has access to a perennial spring of ennobling pleasure, should be omitted from any comprehensive scheme of university education.'

Finally, we love flowers for their associations. Why is the Heather so peculiarly beautiful to the Scotchman, but because it stirs his imagination to recall the land of his birth-'the land of the mountain and the flood.' Whatever of joy he knew there has, in his fancy, through the distance of space and time, 'orbed into a perfect star.' In Goethe's song of Mignon,' how tenderly the little girl recalls her fatherland, contrasting it with her new and strange surroundings: Kenn'st du das land wo die Zitronen blühn?' she asks. The mere odour of some old familiar plant-the sweet-briar, or wild rose of the wayside, has a wonderful power over the mind. It can turn back the leaves of memory, wipe off the dust of the years, and allow us to look again into the pages of the 'long ago :'

'Ah! Rose so sweet, the sweetest of all flowers;

No sister hast thou to compare with thee;
The rich, the poor, the humble watch to

CHAPTER VII.

WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN BUT FOR AN

INTERRUPTION.

AT four o'clock the carriage was

at the door to convey us to Mrs. Percival's. Helen laughed at the serious view I was disposed to take of the affair, and assured me that she knew Mrs. Percival and her daughters well enough to promise me a most kind reception. Exactly how I should acquit myself whether by inculpating De Villefort as the cause, or making it appear that it was my mistake alone -still worried me considerably as I assisted Helen to alight, and accompanied her to the front door of Rosevale Cottage.

As we entered the parlour, a slight rustling in one corner was immediately followed by the appearance therefrom of Miss Percival and Mr. Briarton, evidently disturbed in the sweet seclusion of a lovers' tête-à-tête.

The former extended her hand to me with a merry smile, and a few pleasant words of welcome, and the latter again went through the same friendly performance with great cordiality.

I hardly know what to say in apology, Miss Percival,' I began-and in truth I didn't-' for my unfortunate mistake of

I beg you will say nothing Mr. Hastings,' she interrupted me with a charming smile; 'for no apology is

necessary, as we all think a good hearty laugh is the most fitting sequel to it.'

You are really very kind indeed,' I said, 'to overlook my-my-' I hesitated, blushing painfully, and feeling greatly embarrassed.

"Your little pleasantries,"ejaculated Mr. Briarton, in his usual jerky way, and with a look of sly humour, as if he would be understood as including among those little pleasantries, one whose recollection was anything but pleasant to me.

Helen and Miss Percival now began chatting about matters of particular interest to themselves, when Mr. Briarton, with a sly wink at me, said :

'If the ladies will excuse us, Mr. Hastings, I have a friend in the next room to whom I should like to present you.'

The ladies graciously according us their permission to retire, I was conducted into a small apartment containing a book-case, writing-table, and two or three chairs, upon one of which, by an open window looking out upon a pretty garden, sat a young gentleman smoking.

This is Mr. Percival's study,' remarked Mr. Briarton as we entered; and this, sir, is Mr. Percival's very particular friend, Mr. Charles Mortimer. Allow me to make you acquainted.'

That gentleman languidly arose, made me a slight bow, presented the tips of his fingers to me, and then fixed himself comfortably in his chair again.

'Mr. Mortimer has heard of you before, Mr. Hastings,' remarked Mr. Briarton with an air of sly humour; 'indeed I may say he has been made fully acquainted with a certain little episode in your life, and enjoyed it as much as the rest of us.'

I felt profoundly relieved to know that some one else had been kind enough to spare me the duty of enlightening him upon the subject; and not considering that any apology was due him, I merely observed; Ah! indeed;' in quite a disinterested way, as if the matter was not of the slightest importance to me.

'Oh! yaas; by Jove! the richest thing of the season; deucedly amusing,' observed Mr. Mortimer in a drawling tone; emitting at the same time a column of tobacco smoke from his mouth, and complacently watching it as it ascended in graceful wreaths to the ceiling.

Yes,' I laughed, though a little nettled at his manner, especially so for the chief actor in the affair.'

6

But I say, Briarton, by Jove!' said Mr. Mortimer in a languid tone, and regarding me with a somewhat amused look, as he complacently stroked his side whiskers and moustache; nobody who had ever seen us would mistake one of us for the other fellaw, you know.'

6

Well, now that I come to examine you closely and critically,' responded the person addressed, as if he were saying something exceedingly funny, 'I do perceive a trifling difference.'

'Yaas-ah! yaas! very good indeed, Briarton,' remarked his friend with a faint smile.

'Egad!' exclaimed the other, 'it wanted but one thing to raise the joke to what I may call the acme of the ridiculous, and that was your arrival before the departure of your other self.'

My other self! Well, by Jove! that is capital,' remarked Mr. Mortimer in the same languid tone," and with another weak smile. But I say,

you know, it would be deuced hard to tell who would have been the most astonished I, to find myself already there, or our friend here that he had only just arrived. That's excellentby Jove!'

'Capital!' exclaimed Mr. Briarton. 'It would have been the most fitting denouement to the affair imaginable.' And he laughed heartily at the extreme funniness of the idea, Mr. Mortimer feebly partaking with him in the laugh.

No doubt, these gentlemen found the subject vastly entertaining. I certainly did not share the feeling. There was moreover, something about Mr. Mortimer's manner that was very disagreeable, if not absolutely offensive, to me.

'It reminds me of a little anecdote,' said the last named person, 'that I once heard about a fellaw, who, wishing to make the acquaintance of a certain young lady, actually called at her house and saw her, and then apologizing under the pretence of having made a mistake, politely withdrew. Thought he was in the right house, you know, or that it was some other lady, or that he was somebody else, or something of that kind-dreadfully mixed up any how; true, 'pon honour. Deuced convenient way of making desirable acquaintances-by Jove !'

'I hope, sir,' I said, endeavouring to repress a feeling of anger, 'that you do not suppose I could be capable of such an act.'

'Ah, my dear fellaw,' drawled Mr. Mortimer with an air of easy familiarity that increased, rather than mollified, the feeling with which I regarded him, 'no offence intended, 'pon honour; assure you. Only such things have happened; and what has happened once, may happen again, you know.'

He winked slyly at Mr. Briarton while speaking, and in a manner I imagined which seemed to imply that possibly the shoe might fit me, he thought, and if so, I was perfectly welcome to wear it.