boy ever tells all: not because he wishes to be dishonest. Willie had come purely out of a wish to retract his lie, and to at least set himself right with one whom he respected. But there were some It was not natural for him

few little insignificant details kept back. to tell all.

There was no sound but the

"Let me see it," said the master. burning of the gas, which was turned up too high.

standing. The escape of the gas was pleasant to there. It was a formidable list :

The boy remained him as he stood.

From Mr. Collings, a pipe, silver mounted; six or seven boxes of matches; three packets of tobacco (Gold Flake). From Mr. Sawley, a cricket-bat. From Mr. Beaton, jeweller, a gold watch, and 10s. from the counter. —WILLIE ARKWRIGHT.

He would have put W., not Willie, for any one else.

"Where's

"I

Mr. Harsley ran through the list two or three times. the pipe?" he said. "I've brought it you, sir." The boy laid it on the table. "The match-boxes?" "They were all wooden ones—the others, sir. They were lying about in the shop." "Did you ever buy anything of Mr. Collings?" "Oh! of course; I mean yes, sir, often. Only sometimes I would go in just to talk, and then I would take something-just one thing at a time." "Where is the bat?" "I sent it to my cousin, sir." "And now the watch ?" hid it somewhere; I meant to take it home in the holidays. The money I got from Mr. Beaton wasn't much. It was just for practice." "For practice?" "Yes, sir; I could have taken more, only I just wanted to see if I could do it." "Oh !" said the master rather incredulously. "Well, we must deal with this at once," he went on after a pause. "You must bring me what you've still got. Perhaps I ought almost" He stopped. Before he went on opened and the school servant came in with a message. sir, Master Arkwright is to go to the headmaster at once." there any one with the headmaster ?" asked Mr. Harsley. "Yes, sir, Mr. Collings, the tobacconist." Both faces fell. The boy looked helplessly and pleadingly at the master, who coughed rather nervously. "Well, I will come with you," he said.

the door "Please, "Is

As they entered the formidable study, the tobacconist rose from his chair and bowed to Mr. Harsley. "You'll excuse me, sir, but I had been missing things one way or another this last month, and it suddenly struck me where to look for them. I'm afraid the young monkey has been busy before."

The headmaster was sitting in his reading-chair, looking quite red and angry, which was most unusual for him. "It's impossible,

sir," he said to Collings. "You have made a mistake. The boy is my nephew, sir; and such a thing was never done at this school." "Oh, indeed!" replied Collings; "I've made a mistake, 'ave I? Well, perhaps this gentleman," pointing to Harsley, "will tell you what 'e knows about it." Willie looked anxiously from one to the other; a new hope, unworthy of his recent frankness, rose on his face-perhaps it could be denied all round.

"Excuse me, sir," said Harsley. He always called his principal "sir." "William has just given me a list of what he owes. He has taken from Mr. Collings a pipe, some tobacco, and some six boxes of wooden matches." The tobacconist looked half dissatisfied, "Well, perhaps that's all," he said. "It is all," said Mr. Harsley. The colour on the headmaster's face had vanished. "Give me the list," he said in a hardly-controlled voice. "But, sir, it was given me in confidence." "Give me the list!" Mr. Arkwright almost hissed the words. Mr. Harsley quailed—he had long learnt to quail -and gave up the list. "And now, sir, you can go." Mr. Harsley walked nervously and carefully out of the room. It had all broken down, his hope of doing something for the boy. Was he weak? Not more than any other dominated usher. He went out.

The list remained in the headmaster's hands. As he glanced at it and saw the mention of the watch, it seemed from his face that a storm of fury was about to break. But a moment later the reverend gentleman had recovered his composure. He turned to Mr. Collings with a more engaging look, and spoke in the old clear-cut voice, only slightly sharpened by his inward vexation.

"And now, Mr. Collings," he said, "I think we had better understand each other. I am most sorry that this should have occurred, and so is the boy, I am sure. You will of course have restitution of what you have lost; and you will make no mention whatsoever of this matter. If you do, sir," he proceeded, raising his voice, "you know my position in this town; and I do not think you will improve yourself. But I am certain," with a winsome smile, "that we shall have no further difficulty in the matter. I am sorry that you should have had the trouble of coming up. Good-night, Mr. Collings, goodnight." He had lowered his voice to its previous snake-like tone, and the little tobacconist, hardy and fearless as he was, had not dared to interrupt him. That weird spell which only the ultra-refined can employ was upon him. If he had been the loudest-bawling democrat he would have hesitated and been confused. Besides, Mr. Arkwright had certainly not exaggerated his influence in the town socially, municipally, and otherwise. "Best let it be," thought honest

Bob Collings. But just as he reached the door, which Mr. Arkwright had politely opened, he ventured one more remark, though only to the nephew. "And you, my young friend,” he said, “be wiser another time. I saw you just as well as Mr. Harsley. You forgot the mirror at the back." Mr. Arkwright changed his polite smile to a look of shocked piety. "Don't tell him that you saw him, Mr.

Collings; tell him that God sees him."

Willie Arkwright was expelled. And where he is now I do not know. Perhaps he is lurking at home without character and so without employment. Perhaps he has gone the way of the refuse of so many of our schools, and is now endeavouring to erect a tolerable reputation in some colonial backwood, where he finds broader and more liberal opinions concerning right and wrong. However it may be, he has lost his first chance. He has an uphill task before him; and, if he ever does succeed, if he ever draws from his hard circumstances a new strength and firmness, he will yet never be deeply indebted to the English education which his uncle so generously supplied to him.

As for the Reverend John Arkwright, he found means to restore the watch and silence the tradesmen. His next Sunday's sermon was on the necessity of rising above these trammelling considerations of money, which on all sides surround us; but he never offered to pay Mr. Harsley the 4s. which had been expended in his interest.

THE MAKING OF THE

MAP OF EUROPE.

HE dawn of history discloses Europe peopled by various

THE branches of the great Aryan race; and from then up to the

beginning of the Christian era the story of the map of Europe, as far as there are materials for telling any story, is little else than the story of the expansion of the dominion of one of these Aryan peoples over its neighbours to the East and West.

Of the coming of the Aryans and of their original settlements it is not for the geographer nor yet for the historian to tell; that story can, as yet, only be told in halting and uncertain accents by the philologist, the antiquarian, and the ethnologist from such hints as they may be able to pick up in their several studies. The earliest glimpse then that we have of the map shows us the Eastern and Central Peninsulas of Southern Europe peopled by the Greek-Italian branch of the Aryans; the Western Peninsula and the West generally, along with the Northern Islands, by the Celtic branch; while in Central Europe the Teutonic division of the race presses upon the Celtic to the West, and is in turn pressed by the Slavonic division. on the East and North. The aboriginal non-Aryan population, where it was not exterminated, was thrust back into the extreme North, or assimilated by the conquering Aryans. Geographically, at all events, except for such remnants as the Basques and Finns, this earlier population has vanished. From this beginning the geographical interest of Europe centres in Italy. Geographically, the influence even of Greece has been slight compared with that of Rome. It is true that Greece exercised a great negative influence upon the map by barring the road into Europe against the Persian, but any actual Greek conquest of territory on a large scale was in the direction of Asia and not of Europe, and had nothing of the permanency of Roman conquest. Indeed, we may say that first and last Rome, by the growth of her Empire, and then through its disruption, has been the one great factor in the making of the map of Europe. The

simplicity of the map at the beginning of the Christian era was effected by the expansion of the Roman dominion, and the complexity of the map in mediæval and modern times is the result of the break up of the Roman Empire. That simplicity was such that there was then really only one dividing line on the map-that which separated the countries under the rule of Rome from all the lands which lay beyond her boundary. Beginning from the north-west-this dividing line followed the course of the Rhine as far up as Coblenz or Mainz, then crossed to the Danube, striking it somewhere near Ratisbon, and then ran along the valley of the Danube to the Euxine. South of this dividing line lay the dominions of Romenorth of it lay the European lands outside her sway. Over these lands wandered innumerable semi-civilised tribes of Teutons and Slavs, and behind them again countless savage hordes of the Turanian race-Huns, Avars, and Magyars, Finns, and Laps; remnants, some of them, of the aboriginal population; others of them, fresh immigrants from Asia. Of course, it is in a great measure due to our ignorance that we lump all these peoples, nations, and languages together without attempting to define their boundaries, but these boundaries were so utterly vague and so constantly changing as to defy description. All your map can do is to mark the position of those nations whose confines from time to time marched with those of Rome, and with whom she came into intercourse or conflict. When we turn our attention south of the dividing line of our map we find that we must not only think of the European mainland, but also of the great Mediterranean Sea which bounds the Continent on the south and all the islands lying in it; and not only so, but our thought must take in, too, all the northern fringe of Africa, the whole of Egypt and Syria, and the great promontory of Asia Minor-all this territory fell within the limits of the Roman Empire, and must be included in the map of Europe in these early times. course of the first century the dividing line of the map must be extended in the north-westerly direction beyond the mouth of the Rhine, so as to include England and Wales-leaving out Scotland and Ireland, which never fell under the dominion of Rome—and in the easterly direction it would have to be carried through the Euxine, and sometimes during the second century as far east as the Caspian. Speaking broadly, the map of Europe remained unchanged during the first four centuries of our era. Of course, I do not mean that there was never any alteration in the boundary line-sometimes it would be pushed forward so as to include a whole province, such as Dacia, beyond the Danube-corresponding more or less with modern