slain by Typhon, or the earthly principle (figurative of destruction), Iolaus, the companion of Hercules, restored him to life by placing a quail to his nostrils, and the smell of the bird revived him; that is, he recovered Hercules from a fit of epilepsy by the smell of a quail, which, according to Galen, was efficacious in that disorder.

Latona, mother of Apollo and Diana, was changed by Jupiter into a quail, that she might thus elude the jealousy of Juno, and fly for refuge to the Isle of Delos, where she recovered her natural form; but this fable seems to be but a play upon words. Delos was called by the Greeks Ortygia, from Ortyx (oprv), a quail. Hence the fabled metamorphosis. According to Solerius, the island was named Ortygia, because it was the first place where the Greeks found quails.

The Romans did not eat quails, esteeming their flesh unwholesome, because they frequently fed on hellebore; but they kept the birds to fight, as they are very pugnacious; hence the proverb, “As quarrelsome as a quail in a cage.'"

Of the WOODCOCK, Athenæus, in his Deipnosophists (quoting Socrates), relates the following strange anecdote. The woodcock having been transported into Egypt from Lybia, and having been let loose in the woods there, uttered, for some time, a sound like a quail; but after the river Nile got low, and a great scarcity arose in which a great many of the natives of the country died, they never ceased uttering in a voice more distinct than that of the clearest-speaking children-Three-fold evil to the wicked doers." But when they were caught, it was not only impossible to tame them, but they even ceased to utter any sounds at all. If, however, they were set at liberty again, they recovered their voice. This story seems to be an allegory typifying the restraint that is imposed upon the expression of sentiment and opinion among a people when they have lost their national freedom.

M. E. M.

LIFE'S FORESHADOWING S.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "OLD TIMES."

CHAPTER LVIII.

“WILL Mr. Roach see Monsieur Nichola ?"

A light strong step-a frank hearty address-an eye as clear as crystal-you had scarcely known him as he threw open his door and came out. The vacuous look of suffering was gone, and there was the clear, strong intelligence instead.

"One would suppose Monsieur Roach had come in for a propertyshall I wish him joy?"

"Do so, Monsieur." Roach held out his hand to him with warmth; Monsieur took it doubtfully.

"I received your letter, and I have brought with me the small deposit that has been lying in my hands."

"Am I indebted to you, Monsieur Nichola, for this loan?"

"No; I cannot tell it comes from a foolish little friend of yours. In fact, it is a secret, I believe."

Roach started, looked hard at the Frenchman, and reflected for a moment. He did not press this secret further.

"Whoever may have lent it, I shall repay it soon, Monsieur; and you will be so kind as to be the medium once more. I am immediately returning to Paris for the Examinations."

Monsieur Nichola's old intolerant spirit kindled.

"Is the man serious?"

"I start to-morrow.”

"You are not so infatuated; I will not believe it."
"Let Monsieur have patience, and he will have proof."
"Permit me to ask you, Monsieur Roach, how

fees for the years you have lost ?”

you can

pay up the

"I have paid them long ago. I appropriated my earnings to the hope that is now fulfilled."

"Pardon me, Monsieur, 'twas good money thrown away."

"I hope not. Say, I should hold first place in Science." Monsieur's politeness failed him-he laughed aloud.

"I am neither surprised nor offended, Monsieur, at your incredulity. You will, I suppose, be in Paris on the 1st with Madame; and if you will meet me, as I come out from the Hall, you may have your laugh out. Nous verrons."

"You are your own master, Monsieur Roach," said the Frenchman aloud. He muttered, as he went away, "It's a pity you are. If I'd my will, the only examination you should undergo should be by a surgeon, as a candidate for a strait-waistcoat."

The first pleasant act in his altered fortunes was to call in his landlady, and to pay her in full. He remained with her about a week longer, and during that time he took much walking-exercise, but was

never observed to open a book. Nevertheless, the red sunrise always fell upon his studies, when none but he were up and awake.

His heart was inoculated with second youth and hope. Thoughts, dull and vaporous of late, had suddenly condensed. His mind grasped largely and firmly again. The livid eclipse had passed on from a bright intelligence, and noon had returned.

Two days before the Examination he quietly started for the train, his carpet-bag in hand. His heart was jubilant as a boy's on that lovely May morning, as he passed along by the woods and the water. Not a cloud was across the highway of the sun-not a trail to his burning glory. White fire fell on every wave or glossy leaf, like that holy sacrificial flame that fell from heaven of old. All Nature praised God that day, and so did the silent psalm of a grateful soul, as it journeyed on to triumph and success.

Perhaps, as Roach paid down the bright silver pieces in the railway bureau, he gave a thought to a certain faithful little friend, to whom he was indebted for this most critical aid. At moments, perhaps, during that headlong journey on the iron road, he fostered an ambitious hope, which he had hitherto conscientiously repressed, that at the winning-post of the career before him, he might find a dear companionher hand outstretched to him.

Again the stir about the dingy Quartier Latin-again the doomsday and an anxious throng about the Hotel de Ville. Roach mingled in its current, his pulses riotous with fear and hope. He entered the Hall once more, and looked around him on the scene of his misery and humiliation. It was unchanged; the very sunshine on the floor-alternately dying and kindling-seemed to have rested there ever since. There were the formal faces of the Professors round the large table— the damp, yellow faces of the whispering students striving at a haggard hilarity. But, stay! where is the grim Radamanthus ? He is not in his place.

It was to

A shade of disappointment passed over Roach's face. have been the very zest of his triumph to have coped with that man. Let the man only who disgraced him and refused him mercy be the one from whom he would force justice and honour. He sat among the students, too anxious to speak, and watching the desk of the Pont aux

anes.

"Where is he-where is Monsieur Moulins ?"

"I fear," said Roach, "he will not examine to-day."

"You are not so happy, my friend. Voila! he comes !" The wind from a rapid figure fanned Roach's cheek-the dreaded Professor was in the Hall, and the murmurs hushed for a moment. "I am glad," said Roach, in his mind. His eye was full of proud, manly joy, as it settled fearlessly on the merciless examiner. "Be only just, and I shall not need your mercy now."

He was called up by the classical Professor, who remembered him for his former good answering, and he construed fluently and well. He retired to await the summons from Professor Moulins. Man after man went up and returned with various fortune-some with a wandering eye and bloodless cheek, which proclaimed the failure; but still Roach's name was not called. He waited and waited till anxiety grew unspeak

able-till his throat and lips were parched. He grew violently alarmed at last, and a dreadful suspicion shot across his mind, and drew out a sweat of fear on his forehead. Suppose he had been informal in making his payments-that his name was not on the books. The classical Professor had called out no names, but had taken the men as they came up. He might easily, with his tardiness at French, have mistaken another name for his own when the roll was called. Suppose he should have to go forth unexamined. It would be a worse fate-more intolerable still than refusal.

"Monsieur Roche!" said a sonorous voice, like a bell of doom. He started from his agonized reverie-he was summoned to the Pont aux anes! Perhaps it was fancy, but in the look Professor Moulins cast upon him he thought he had perceived a contemptuous recognition, as if he would say, "I remember you. What business have you here again?" He was asked a question in Algebra, and answered it. The Professor marked him an answer, and asked another.

"It is a simple question," said Roach, in his pride of knowledge. "Then I will complicate it," said Monsieur Moulins, with a sharp glance at Roach. He did so.

Roach answered hastily, every pulse in his frame was throbbing, and he could not pause to consider.

"Wrong, sir!" said the Professor, with a bitter smile, and marked against him.

Roach received a shock-his confidence was shaken for a momenthe felt the vital necessity of perfect coolness, and, suspending his breath, he gathered all his faculties for the next question. It came; he thought over it steadily-framed his answer shortly and boldly. This time he was right. Many questions followed in Mechanics and Trigonometry, growing harder and harder after each correct reply.

At length Professor Moulins took up a book, and asked him a really difficult mathematical question. Roach's excitement now began to aid him, instead of confusing. He replied, in a few seconds, without hesitation. The examiner looked up, evidently taken by surprise.

"You are right, Monsieur-perfectly right; but your answer is not exactly in the terms of the book."

A curiosity seemed to have seized Monsieur Moulins to test the extent of the student's knowledge. He asked him crabbed questions in the Calculus of Variations; questions on the theory of Precession and Mulation; questions on the principle of the separation of Symbols; growing in wonder, his air of severe precision breaking into short looks of astonishment and approval. Other examiners gathered round by degrees, to listen and watch.

At length the examiner closed the book.

"You have placed yourself beyond competition, Monsieur Roach. It is needless to tell you, you hold the First Place in Science. I shall mention your name to the Committee with the strongest commendation. You will do honour to our University!"

How his heart bounded at these words! He expressed some inarticulate thanks as, contrary to custom, the Certificate of First Place was put into his hands. Happiness nearly choked him; he felt he must be alone before he could let its sparkling current rush in upon him.

The bell sounded for going out-he mingled with the crowd. Rumours had gone about the Hall of the foreigner who had taken First Place in Science on the first day-who had perplexed the Professor by his learning; and their stares fell on him, unconscious and isolated by joy.

He had reached the great flight of stone steps without, when he was suddenly impeded by a portly figure, which caught him by the arm. It was Monsieur Nichola. There was an affectation of good-natured anxiety inclining to sympathy, but beneath glimmered that petty emotion our friends exhibit when their croakings are come true-the little malignant triumph.

It was annihilated by the generous triumph of the student's eye, even as Moses' serpent devoured the serpents of the sorcerer.

"You are refused again. Mon Dieu, I told you so."

"And I told you, Monsieur, I should hold First Place." He fluttered his certificate laughingly in the Frenchman's collapsed face. "You jest, Monsieur-you mock me."

"Read this and-be happy," said Roach.

It was pitiful to see Monsieur's mortification, miserably counterfeiting joy. Roach did not stay to detect the hypocrisy. He stalked off abstractedly through the streets-to the wonder of the idle and the inquisitive; he got off into the fields, under the lone blue sky, to think over his happiness.

Would that the old priest were alive now!

CHAPTER LIX.-THE STRANGER.

Ir was the dead of an autumn night-the sky clear from clouds, and quivering with the subtle flame of stars, as if the whole vault lived and palpitated.

A student entered the Observatory, and passed through the dim hall where stood the effigy of La Place-its stone eyes immutably fixed as if on some far ken in space-as if, untainted by envy or earthy littleness, some sublime discovery was dawning on its marble brow.

The student gazed for a moment with respectful sympathy, and fancies stole over him. Might I one day be like this man! I feel his presence about me. Every one is asleep but me and this stone form. I feel as if he could hear me—as if those lips would move."

He went slowly up to the small domed room. It was a light-built cell, roofed with a moveable dome; a single narrow window opened from the zenith to the horizon, and commanded the four points in turn as you moved the roof round.

It was the twenty-fourth hour by sidereal time, as he placed the equatorial in declination, allowing two minutes for a few arrangements before the planet should have reached the centre of the field. Then he paused ere he moved the dome round.

He is about to see his dream fulfilled-his chimera has proved to be a reality-the Stranger which had visited him in sleep, which had haunted his thoughts and troubled his rest, was about to beam upon him. Once he had seen it before, and mapped it, all unconscious of