the hand on their part. The memory of their long anguish, their drowned shipmates, all those hours of famine and thirst, with Death the skeleton sitting among them on that water-swept deck, would well account for their parting in silence. I had my eye on the widow's face as she shook hands with the first man. It was firm, and she looked at him steadily; but she broke down suddenly when she took the second man's hand, and dropped her face, unable to look at him; and when the third man took her hand she was crying piteously. Miss Tuke put her arm through hers and led her away to the after end of the deck; and I was glad to see her go, for it was painful that such grief as hers should be watched by so many eyes, though God knows there was no want of sympathy for her.

The men then bade us farewell. Sir Mordaunt gave them his hand, and one of them held it as though he could not make up his mind to release it. Good-bye, mum! God bless you, mum!' said they to Lady Brookes.

Now, my lads, jump into the boat,' exclaimed the mate. But first let me tell you that this gentleman,' indicating the baronet, 'has given me ten pounds for my captain to hold for you;' and then, as if he feared this would excite another demonstration of gratitude and cause more delay, he sung out, In with you, boys! Chuck your bundles down.'

The men dropped over the side, the mate, bowing to us all, followed, and as the boat shoved off the three men stood up and cheered us. In a very little while they disappeared under the stern of the great steamship, and shortly after the monster began to forge ahead.

It was a brave sight to see that huge and powerful fabric-that had lain motionless upon the swell which kept the yacht's masts swaying like a bandmaster's bâton-divide the water under the hidden propulsion of her screw. The trembling light under her quivered in her glossy sides, and the glass of her port-holes flashed and faded as her head came round to the north and east. A great body of black smoke burst suddenly out of her low fat funnel, and the first belch of it shot up like a balloon; but the breeze was too light to incline the dark and gleaming pillar until it had reached a certain height, when it yielded to the pressure of the current up there, and leaned over into a most graceful curl, which, as it blew further and further towards the horizon, looked like a gigantic bridge arching the blue water, whose surface mirrored the league of sooty coil in a straight dark brown line, that might very well have passed in the distance for a shoal of mud.

But though she made a fine show, yet she was sadly wanting in all those points of beauty which a sailing vessel offers. The pyramid of shining canvas, the stately leaning of the tapering masts, the swelling curves of the jibs, the lovely graduation of shadow and light upon the round cloths, and the sharp clear lining of the delicate

majestic form, was expressed by that mighty red and green hull heaping the sparkling blue water at her side, and a torrent of snow pouring away from under her elliptical stern, that was radiant with gilt configurations, but there was no gracefulness. The eye had to seek the Lady Maud' for that. And a beautiful sight she was, I make no doubt, for the passengers aboard that great receding steamer to watch. For so soon as the boat had gone clear of us, sail had been made, and such air as there was being abeam, every stitch of square canvas, and the studding-sails to boot, were piled upon the little vessel, until she must have looked like a big white cloud upon the sea. Soon the tinkling and churning of water alongside told us that the Lady Maud' was contributing something to the rapidlyincreasing interval that now separated the two vessels. In threequarters of an hour the great ocean steamship was no bigger than a nutshell upon the horizon, and when we went to lunch nothing was to be seen of her but a smudge of smoke hovering over the spot where she bad vanished.

(To be continued.)

IT

THE EARLIEST SCOTTISH UNIVERSITY.

T was a favourite saying of the late Dean Stanley that St. Andrews had for him the charm of Canterbury and Oxford combined. Those who are constant residents within it, pressed with the cares or distracted with the frivolities of the hour, might smile at such a comparison. What! they might say, compare these few gaunt and shattered skeletons of ancient magnificence with the vast and still flourishing Cathedral, the seat of England's Primacy, or the two small St. Andrews Colleges, the one still retaining something of cloistral seclusion, the other with no survival of antiquity but its old tower and chapel!-compare these with the grandeur of Christ Church or the serene mediæval beauty of Magdalen!-it is simply ludicrous. To those whose perceptions custom has dulled it may seem so. But one gifted, as Dean Stanley was, with the finest historic eye and the keenest imaginative sensibility, coming fresh upon St. Andrews, sees around him an embodiment of a long and stormy history, in all its most startling vicissitudes, not perhaps to be equalled on any other spot of British ground. Such an one cannot, doubtless, gaze without pain on those skeletons of unfleshed humanity,' the record of all that is wildest in passion and darkest in fanaticism. But the pain is more than compensated by the crowding memories which thrill him at every turn, as he walks around these ruins, looking down upon him in 'all the imploring beauty of decay.' There are memories embedded in almost every stone which he sees, waiting only for the open eye and the receptive heart to take them in.

In this St. Andrews is unique, that the same spot of ground contained Scotland's oldest and metropolitan Cathedral, and also her earliest University, and that the University was the child and nursling of the Cathedral and its monastery. But the wind-swept, foamfringed promontory had been known as a centre of religion for at least seven hundred years before it became a seat of learning. The earliest sacred place was the cave in the sandstone cliff, close under the Cathedral, known as the Cave of Saint Regulus. It has now so crumbled away as to be almost indiscernible. But thither, probably soon after A.D. 600, came a Columban eremite, and made the cave his abode; and this was, it is suggested, the historic personage who was afterwards transformed into the mythic Regulus. Hard by, there probably soon arose one of those primitive monasteries of wickerwork, in which would dwell a small brotherhood of Columban monks from Iona.

Early in the eighth century the monks of the old Columban foundations were driven out of South Pictland, and among others

The next step was when, in 736, the Pictish King, Ungus or Angus, son of Fergus, placed in Kilrimont a new body of clergy, who had brought the relics of St. Andrew with them. Whence they brought them we know not. From Patras or Constantinople the old legend says; from Hexham in Northumberland Mr. Skene suggests. Kilrimont, afterwards called St. Andrews, thenceforth became the National Church of the Picts, whose royal seat was at Scone; and St. Andrew, superseding Columba, and his successor St. Peter, became their patron saint.

The next important date is A.D. 889, when the Scottish dynasty succeeded to the Pictish throne, and reigned at Scone over the united kingdom of Alban,-when the Pictish and Scottish churches were blended into one,-when Saint Andrew became the patron saint of the united Picts and Scots,-and when the Bishop of St. Andrews became known as the Bishop of Alban. The Scottish line of kings, being established at Scone, brought back with them the Columban monks who had been driven from Pictland early in the eighth century, and these doubtless returned to Kilrimont, whither they had first brought the name of Christ. The Primacy of the whole Scottish Church which, after the downfall of Iona, had passed for a short time to Dunkeld and then to Abernethy, was, with the sanction of the king, transferred in 908 to St. Andrews, where it remained till the downfall of the medieval church. It became the policy of the Scottish kings, when they had removed their royal seat from Argyll to Scone, to foster St. Andrews and make it supersede Iona as the chief sanctuary of their people; as Dean Stanley once said, a Cordova to keep the pilgrims from going in search of Mecca, a Bethel to prevent the tribes from returning to Jerusalem.

We read of Constantine, one of the Scottish kings, in A.D. 942, worn out with age and troubles, retiring to the monastery of St. Andrews, and living there as a Culdee, till he died in that dreary pile'-the pile being the Culdee monastery of Kirkheugh, to the east of the cathedral, and overlooking the harbour. The foundations, after having been for centuries buried out of sight, were within a recent date laid bare, when excavations were being made for a new battery.

On the whole question of the origin and nature of the Culdees, so obscure yet so interesting, much light has of late been thrown by Dr. Reeves and Mr. Skene, but on that enticing subject we cannot linger

now.

The first elements of learning were given to Scotland we know before the time of the Culdees, through the monks of the Columban Church. They introduced letters and a written language, and were, like their founder, zealous in copying MSS. Whatever education the young received, whatever instruction the people got, came entirely from the Columban monks. When the Columban Church was expelled from South Pictland, and afterwards when Iona was laid waste by the Norsemen, the Culdees, who succeeded the Columban monks in the

IT

THE EARLIEST SCOTTISH UNIVERSITY.

T was a favourite saying of the late Dean Stanley that St. Andrews had for him the charm of Canterbury and Oxford combined. Those who are constant residents within it, pressed with the cares or distracted with the frivolities of the hour, might smile at such a comparison. What! they might say, compare these few gaunt and shattered skeletons of ancient magnificence with the vast and still flourishing Cathedral, the seat of England's Primacy, or the two small St. Andrews Colleges, the one still retaining something of cloistral seclusion, the other with no survival of antiquity but its old tower and chapel!-compare these with the grandeur of Christ Church or the serene mediæval beauty of Magdalen!-it is simply ludicrous. To those whose perceptions custom has dulled it may seem so. But one gifted, as Dean Stanley was, with the finest historic eye and the keenest imaginative sensibility, coming fresh upon St. Andrews, sees around him an embodiment of a long and stormy history, in all its most startling vicissitudes, not perhaps to be equalled on any other spot of British ground. Such an one cannot, doubtless, gaze without pain on those skeletons of unfleshed humanity,' the record of all that is wildest in passion and darkest in fanaticism. But the pain is more than compensated by the crowding memories which thrill him at every turn, as he walks around these ruins, looking down upon him in all the imploring beauty of decay.' There are memories embedded in almost every stone which he sees, waiting only for the open eye and the receptive heart to take them in.

6

In this St. Andrews is unique, that the same spot of ground contained Scotland's oldest and metropolitan Cathedral, and also her earliest University, and that the University was the child and nursling of the Cathedral and its monastery. But the wind-swept, foamfringed promontory had been known as a centre of religion for at least seven hundred years before it became a seat of learning. The earliest sacred place was the cave in the sandstone cliff, close under the Cathedral, known as the Cave of Saint Regulus. It has now so crumbled away as to be almost indiscernible. But thither, probably soon after A.D. 600, came a Columban eremite, and made the cave his abode; and this was, it is suggested, the historic personage who was afterwards transformed into the mythic Regulus. Hard by, there probably soon arose one of those primitive monasteries of wickerwork, in which would dwell a small brotherhood of Columban monks from Iona.

Early in the eighth century the monks of the old Columban foundations were driven out of South Pictland, and among others