Doubtless

had proved that fear to be. the very sweet and winning nature of the child was a chief reason that their life together was so happy. It was impossible to see the gentle beauty of her serious face without being attracted, and the more her character, of which the face was a true index, became known, the stronger the attraction grew. She seemed to the Colonel to have inherited her mother's sweet disposition as he had known it, or had at least believed it to be, before her flight. In the mother the sweetness of disposition had been accompanied with a gentle readiness to be led by a stronger and more impetuous nature, which had no doubt been the reason that she allowed herself to be persuaded to the step which had cast such a gloom over her father's nature; but the child's character, young though she was, had a strength which she had perhaps acquired through early contact with hard changes and chances.

It was very wonderful and very touching to see how much the Colonel's nature seemed softened by the companionship of his grandchild. The smile which always, when it came, had lightened so beautifully his features, hard set and rugged in repose, but which formerly had appeared so rarely, was much more frequent now. He grew into the habit, 'in imitation of Vera, of saying a few kindly words to any of the village children when he met them in their walks, and they repaid him by seeming to throw off all their former fear of him and responding in their shy way. It was the same too in his intercourse with those who were more nearly his contemporaries; he was so much more genial and friendly. The sunshine of the child's kindly presence seemed to have thawed his heart. The Vicar appeared to us to describe the change in him accurately in saying, "He has regained his faith in human nature."

It is true that when some one repeated this to Dr. Charlton, the doctor replied drily, "If he has regained his faith in human nature, he has regained faith in a very faithless thing;" but we ascribed this in part to the general bent of the doctor's mind, which always disposed him to contradiction, and in part to his special inclination to oppose any expression of opinion on which the Vicar ventured. And even the doctor, in spite of his sharp words, was as ready as anybody to admit the pleasant change in the Colonel's manner, reflecting the change of the heart within, which the constant presence of his grandchild was effecting.

To all of us at Barton she appealed in a peculiar way, because we all knew her mother's story, and there was a pathos in her position of which she, of course, was altogether unconscious. Living alone as she did with her grandfather, tended by the wife of his old soldier-servant who had "done for him" for years, it seemed to us as if the days must pass rather sadly for her, and in consequence we always went out of our way when we met her to be pleasant to her. She never failed to respond in the most charming manner, but never, on the other hand, said a word to make us think that she found her life dull. She accepted life as it came with a reasonableness that was hardly of a piece with the nature of a child, and though she was of a serious disposition, we were assured by the Colonel that since the forlorn days immediately following her mother's death he had never known her to cry. From the first moment, she had won Miss Carey's kindly heart, and in a very short time learned to love Miss Carey in return as everybody loved her. When she overcame the fear with which his abrupt manner inspired her, she became fast friends with Dr. Charlton also. The doctor never failed to carry with him a small box which

those who remembered his father said had been used by the elder Dr. Charlton as a snuff-box. Snuff-taking was an old-fashioned habit which the present doctor did not inherit. Instead of the snuff, he carried in the little box, which he always assured us had been well washed since, whenever he referred to its former use, some acidulated drops, which he was fond of giving to any children that he knew.

He was a great lover of children, and they, when their first fears had worn off, all worshipped him. But though he was a lover of children he loved a practical joke as well, and amongst the sweet acid drops he had always a few, especially prepared, with a stinging peppery taste in the mouth. Miss Sophy Rivers, who did not mind what she said to the doctor, used to tell him that she believed he had dipped them into a dose of his own temper. No doubt his chief reason for carrying them with him was that he himself was fond of sucking them in his mouth. He maintained that they dispelled infection. But he was fond of mischief too, and liked to give one of those peppery lozenges now and then to one or other of his little friends, especially by way of payment for some innocent joke which they had played at his expense. So it was always something of a fearful pleasure, I think, when the doctor brought out his box and gave them a drop. There was nothing, except to his skilled eyes, to distinguish the one sort, the peppery, from the other, the acid sweet, so that the children never knew when he gave one of which kind it was to be. It was amusing to see them looking up into his curious shrewd face, trying to discover the secret, which his features kept perfectly, whether the sweet had a sting in it.

Then it was still more amusing to watch their faces of anxiety at the first moment of putting the doubtful joy into the mouth, for in that very first moment it did not reveal its character. Finally, if the sweet was proved of the truly delightful kind their faces would quickly express their satisfaction and rapture, whereas if it proved to be one of the deceitful pepper-drops the wry grimaces that they made, and their haste to remove it from their smarting mouths, no matter by what undignified means, were more curious than seemly.

The doctor took a special delight in tricking Miss Vera out of her grave serenity by a practical joke from his bonbonnière. She was a prime favorite with him, and I do not think she ever suffered disillusion of the kind without receiving subsequent consolation from a sweet of the purely pleasant sort. Clearly she labored under no sense of injury from this treatment; for she told Miss Carey that her scale of affection ran as follows: First, her grandfather; Miss Carey herself second; the doctor third on the list. And after the doctor (now and again I think almost above him, if he had very lately given her one of the peppery sweets) came Mrs. Copman, whom she often visited, never forgetting that it was Mrs. Copman's house that she had lived in with her mother during the few days of life that the mother had to spend after her return to Barton, nor that it was in that house that she had said good-bye to her mother for the last time. Whatever others might be to her, Mrs. Copman had this very special place in her heart, that she was the chief link in the girl's experience with the mother that she had loved so very dearly and had lost so young.

BY ADMIRAL SIR A. The dawn of the twentieth century will always be memorable, more especially from a geographical point of view, for the great interest that was evinced throughout the world in the renewal of a systematic and well-arranged scheme, having for its object the thorough exploration of the hitherto almost unknown region amounting to no less than ten millions of square miles - that surrounds the South terrestrial Pole. It is true that during the last decade of the nineteenth century small, and unimportant, expeditions were despatched to the South Polar seas, principally to report on the prospects that offered for establishing whaling and sealing industries in the far south. These enterprises added little to our geographical knowledge, but they served the useful purpose of whetting our scientific appetites, and thereby stimulating the general thirst for obtaining further information regarding a portion of the world, so little known, and which had, hitherto, received but little attention. The practical result of these minor voyages was the despatch of several expeditions from various countries, some on a scale of greater magnitude than others, but all well arranged, carefully organized, and skilfully conducted.

Among the nations interested were England, France, Sweden, Belgium, and last, but by no means least, Scotland. Some of these expeditions received financial support from their respective Governments, the majority were largely assisted- some altogether - by public and private subscriptions, while all received the unhesitating approval and support of eminent men

of science, and other distinguished and influential men.

At the suggestion of Sir Clements Markham, who at the time was occupying the distinguished position of President of the English Royal Geographical Society, the South Polar Region was divided into four quadrants, not only for convenience of reference, but also because the exploration of the different quadrants could be allotted to different expeditions, so that the proceedings of one expedition should not interfere with, or overlap, the work of another. These quadrants, each of 90° of longitude, were named the Victoria, the Ross, the Enderby, and the Weddell. It was the last-named quadrant that was selected as the scene of the operations of the Scottish Expedition. Its history is now before us, under the modest and unassuming title of "The Voyage of the 'Scotia.'"" It has been written, not by the Commander of the Expedition, but by three members of the scientific staff, who have, very properly, dedicated the work to their "Leader and Comrade." It professes to be a true and faithful account of the life and work of the members of the Expedition, and, as such, will be read with the keenest interest by those who delight in the perusal of narratives of adventurous voyages, to parts of the world that have hitherto been somewhat wrapped in the veil of obscurity. Although written in what might be termed a popular style, it

1 The Voyage of the "Scotia": being the Record of a Voyage of Exploration in Antarctic Seas. By Three of the Staff. William Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh and London:

1906.

is also a very complete and useful record of scientific information, especially in its relation to high southern latitudes. The last great explorer in those regions, Sir James Ross, who was the first to penetrate, in the interests of science, the ice-clad seas of the Southern Ocean more than sixty years ago, was a Scotsman. His deeds the Scottish navigators of the present day wish to emulate. He was the example they had set themselves to copy. Scotsmen at home and Scotsmen abroad- and it is proverbial that a Scotsman is to be found in every part of the world where life can be sustained will hail with delight the account of the cruise of the Scotia, and will be well pleased and proud of the achievements of their countrymen who served in the Scottish Antarctic Expedition of 1902-3; and this pleasure and pride will also, in a great measure, be shared by those who, fortunately or unfortunately for themselves, live on the south side of the Tweed.

Steam, as a motive power for ships, has wrought a great revolution in ice navigation since the days of Ross: the position reached by that navigator, only after great difficulty and no small danger, in his clumsy old sailing-ships, can now with ease be attained by a well-found steamer, properly constructed and skilfully handled. This has been fully demonstrated in both north and south polar seas during the last thirty years.

The Scotia, the ship selected for the enterprise, was a Norwegian whaler named the Hekla, and perhaps, under the circumstances, no better selection I could have been made, for she was originally designed and built for navigating among the heavy ice-floes of the Arctic seas. Many alterations, however, had to be carried out in order to adapt her for the special service on which she was to be employed, and

SOD,

these were all most satisfactorily executed by the celebrated yacht designer and builder, the late Mr. G. L. Watwho gave his services gratuitously. The cost of the expedition was defrayed partly by public and partly by private subscription, while gifts of stores, clothing, &c., were generously and liberally supplied by those interested in the welfare and success of the enterprise. The final despatch of the ship, however, was due to the munificent liberality of Mr. James Coats of Paisley, who not only guaranteed the funds requisite for the continuance of the work for two seasons, but also generously consented to hold himself responsible for the provision of the money that would be required for the examination of the rich scientific collections that were brought home, and for the subsequent publication of the results.

The Scotia was a steam vessel of about 400 tons, barque-rigged, and capable of steaming in smooth water from 6 to 8 knots.

The leader of the expedition was Mr. W. S. Bruce, a gentleman possessing high scientific attainments, and who had already obtained considerable experience both in the North and South Polar Regions. He had also for two years-namely, 1894 to 1896-been in charge of the high-level meteorological observatory station on the summit of Ben Nevis. The remainder of the scientific staff were all specially selected for the practical and theoretical knowledge they possessed in the various branches of science which they were severally appointed to make their special study. The captain of the ship, Captain Robertson of Peterhead, was an experienced whaling captain, and had seen much service in polar seas in both hemispheres. The remaining officers of the ship were also experienced ice navigators.

On the upper deck of the Scotia va

rious houses had been constructed, and so lighted as to facilitate the delicate microscopical examinations that would have to be made. All the latest and most up-to-date instruments and apparatus for carrying out systematic oceanographical, magnetic, meteorological, and other observations were provided, and the vessel was in every way thoroughly prepared, and equipped, for the interesting and important service on which she was to be employed.

Everything being ready, the ship sailed on her eventful voyage on November 2, 1902. A stay of a few days in Kingston harbor enabled the little vessel to supplement her stores, &c., by the purchase of a few necessaries that, in the hurry and confusion incidental to fitting-out, had been inadvertently omitted. Their short visit to Madeira, after a boisterous and turbulent passage across the Bay of Biscay, was marked by a somewhat amusing incident, causing a display of ignorance on the part of one of the port officials regarding the historical emblem of Scotland! The official in question, after granting pratique, which implies permission to land, said that the quarantine flag might be hauled down. "What quarantine flag?" was asked. "Why, that yellow flag up there," was the reply, pointing to the mast-head. He had mistaken the glorious ensign of Scotland, a red lion rampant on a yellow ground, for the flag that is invariably hoisted to denote that some infectious disease is prevalent on board! In consequence of the absence of wind the flag was hanging listlessly up and down the mast, and only the yellow in it was visible! Of course a profuse apology was offered by the official, and readily accepted by those on board.

Madeira was left on the 23d November, from which date a system of regular and continuous observations was

commenced and recorded, which was never relaxed until the end of the voyage. The towing-net was in constant requisition, and war was ruthlessly waged on all marine animate, and inanimate, life that was to be found on, or near, the surface of the sea. The density and salinity of the water were carefully recorded, so that a proper knowledge of oceanic circulations might be obtained in order that the direction of the flow and depth of the currents could be accurately established. Meteorological observations were periodically registered. Soundings were occasionally obtained; and, when opportunities offered, the dredge was employed in bringing to the surface rich and rare prizes from the depths of the

ocean.

St. Vincent was reached on the 1st of December-the barren, sterile aspect of the island affording a striking contrast to the rich and luxuriant vegetation that clothed the slopes of the hills of Madeira. A run of ten days from the Cape Verde islands brought the Scotia to the isolated rocks of St. Paul's, situated in the middle of the Atlantic, a few miles north of the Equator. They are not more than half a mile in circumference, and about sixty feet above the level of the sea. From a geological point of view they are of the greatest interest; but a sailor regards them from an altogether different standpoint, and invariably gives them a wide berth. The formation of the rock is of a variety that is nowhere seen in any other part of the world. It is a moot-point with geologists as to whether it is of "volcanic or of deep-seated plutonic origin." In consequence of the heavy sea breaking over them, it was impossible to make a close inspection of the rocks in order to obtain specimens. A landing was attempted, but with dire results, as the following account will show. The geologist, Dr. Pirie, was given the