Here is she with money and talent; anyone would imagine she would wish to devote them to the cause. It would be "so nice for her" to do it. In vain she declares she is out of sympathy with its upholders; in vain, when goaded to desperation, she admits that she thinks they deserve all they get, and more too, for a set of benighted advocates of persecution; she is regarded not as an opinionated idiot, but as a lazy Laodicean who sacrifices everything for ease! It is probable that many lone women have accepted widowers with large families in order to get away from offers of "occupation."

Another thing which it is "very nice" for women alone to be able to do is to lend! To lend what? But everything! Their house, if they have one; their pony-cart, carriage, or car; their money, their influence-all that they possess. The great borrowers are their young relations, and they say, "Jolly for her to have it to give us," and there is no doubt that their mothers echo the feeling. They look upon the single state as one quite compact of unenviable privilege. "Unmarried women always look so young for their age," said the mother of a large family the other day in the hearing of the present writer. "I suppose it is because they have no troubles." Were there any unmarried women in Judea, one wonders, when the prophet was watching "the sparks fly upward"?

Perhaps the most amusing suggestion ever made to fill the infinitely elastic time of "a lady alone" was one which the present writer lately read in a sermon-quite a good sermon, too. The preacher wished that all unmarried women should each adopt an orphan "instead of petting dogs." Thus might the poor-law question be eased. Now we do verily believe that scores of unmarried women who are in good health and not without means would The Spectator.

very much like to have an orphan to pet, but the difficulties in the way would be enormous and grotesque. In the first place, most of the orphans of the State have mothers-they are really only half-orphaned-who naturally are deeply interested in their welfare, and who, though they would no doubt agree that it was very nice for "a lady alone" to take the expense of their children, would certainly arrive to visit them by every excursion train. The social complications would be alarming, and would create a run upon complete orphans. As soon as these were adopted we might see some experiments in education which might enlighten educationists, perhaps, but probably few of the many systems conceived would be carried out. Few unsupported women could stand against the advice they would receive. Some might, perhaps, retire, each alone with her orphan, into un-get-at-able wilds and firmly refuse to take in her letters from the postman; but the greater number would be turned from any systematic purpose, and crowds of orphans would go back. Imagine a Philistine brother face to face with a sentimental sister who has just been to the workhouse and fetched home for good and all a small male orphaned tramp! Would her enthusiasm long survive the cold water and the ridicule? Those who chose girls would have more chance of success. Boys, however, would be at a premium. There is no doubt that to women,-married, single, or widows-little boys are more attractive than little girls.

Seriously, however, time is the last thing that ever hangs heavy on the hands of a woman alone. Seriously, also, no grave injustice is done to them as a class. Of course in their hearts they agree that it is "nice for them" to be able to be of use, only they would like sometimes that it should be left to them to say it.

The most remarkable race the world has yet seen is over, and Naval-Lieutenant Conneau, flying a Blériot monoplane under the name of "Beaumont," has won the 10,000l. offered by The Daily Mail for the circuit of Britaina total distance of 1010 miles in 22h. 28m. 18s. of actual flying time, or just under 45 miles an hour.

The basic idea of the race was to test the trustworthiness of the competing aëroplanes. With this end in view, five parts of the machine and five parts of the engine were marked, viz. the wings, rudder, elevator and fuselage, two cylinders, and various portions of the crank-case.

Two of each of the five parts thus marked had to be in place throughout the race. The motor was marked with an electric needle, the fuselage with burnt-in letters, and the other parts with wire-on lead seals, their position being indicated with red paint on the fabric to assist the examiners at the various controls.

The course was divided into five sections, which were again divided, with the exception of the first and last, into controls, as follows: Section 1. Brooklands-Hendon (20 miles). Section 2.-Hendon-Harrogate (182 miles), Harrogate-Newcastle (68 miles), NewcastleEdinburgh (93 miles). Section 3.-Edinburgh-Stirling (31 miles), Stirling-Glasgow (22 miles), Glasgow-Carlisle (86 miles), Carlisle-Manchester (103 miles), Manchester-Bristol (141 miles). Section 4.-Bristol-Exeter (65 miles), ExeterSalisbury Plain (83 miles), Salisbury Plain-Brighton (76 miles). Section 5.Brighton-Brooklands (40 miles).

Provision was thus made for the competitors to experience every kind of country, while the climate provided, as the event proved, every kind of weather. Twelve hours' resting time

on the ground in a control had to be taken in Sections 2, 3, and 4, and no competitor was allowed to start in any of the Sections 3, 4, and 5 unless the full resting time had been taken in the previous section. This wise provision was made to ensure that the competitors had some rest and were not overdriven in the round. The times were taken from the start from one control to the arrival at the next, any stop. pages in between counting as flying time, while any resting time taken in any section over and above the twelve hours specified was also counted as flying time.

On Saturday, July 22, the start was made at 4 p.m. from Brooklands. Of the original thirty entrants, twentyeight were possible starters on the day; but only twenty actually went to the post, and only seventeen got away. Lieut. Porte (Déperdussin monoplane) and F. C. Jenkins (Blackburn monoplane) both fell just after starting, smashing their machines, fortunately without injury to themselves, while Gordon England (Bristol biplane) could not get sufficient altitude to leave the ground. The rest reached Hendon, Védrines making the fastest time, 19m. 48s., winning thereby the right to go first on Monday.

Monday was perhaps the most remarkable day of the race. At the earliest dawn the machines began to fly away to the north, and when night fell they were scattered all along the line from London to Edinburgh. Before noon Védrines and "Beaumont" both reached Edinburgh, where Valentine (Déperdussin monoplane) landed soon after four in the afternoon. Hamel (Blériot monoplane) arrived at Newcastle, Cody (Cody biplane) at Harrogate, and the rest lay between Harrogate and Hendon.

Tuesday night saw both the leaders at Bristol, Valentine at Glasgow, Hamel at Edinburgh, and Cody near Durham. On Wednesday, at a few minutes past two in the afternoon, the race was won, "Beaumont" beating Védrines on time by 1h. 9m. 47s. This result was chiefly due to the fact that the latter mistook the way at Bristol and alighted on the wrong ground, breaking a stay in doing so, and much precious time was lost before he was able to reach the actual aërodrome. Both arrived with all their marks intact.

There is nothing astonishing in the fact that they so far outdistanced the rest of the competitors. They are both acknowledged pilots of the very first rank, with great experience in crosscountry flying, while their machines and motors were the pick of their types.

"Beaumont's" Blériot monoplane was of the usual cross-country type, fitted with a 50 horse-power Gnome motor and a Normale propeller. Its total supporting area is 17.5 metres; span, 8.9 metres; length, 7.65 metres; and weight, 230 kilos.

Védrines's Morane-Borel monoplane is very similar to the Blériot, except in its landing chassis, the arrangement of the elevator, and the camber of its wings. In plain view also its wing tips are rounded from front to rear instead of from rear to front like the Blériot. It was fitted with a 50 horsepower Gnome motor and an Intégrale propeller. Its total supporting area is 17.5 metres; span, 9.3 metres; length, 6.7 metres; and weight, 200 kilos.

As aviators steer their way by map and compass, the winner naturally had, owing to his nautical training, a considerable advantage. The chief landmarks to the flyer are rivers and lakes, roads, railway lines, the contours of villages and towns, and the masses of deep color afforded by woods. Good

artificial guides are smoke columns in isolated positions, kites or balloons carrying flags, and white-washed sloping roofs of prominent buildings. A good map must be masterly in its omission of unnecessary detail, and must show distinctly the varying heights of the country and the landing places. One difficulty is the absence of trustworthy news, from the aviator's point of view, as to the weather 100 miles ahead. The opinion of the average man, who has no conception of what constitutes good flying weather, and is not equipped with any apparatus for sounding the air, is quite worthless. As flying becomes commoner we shall, no doubt, see a national system of meteorological stations linked up by telephone or wireless telegraphy. Charts of the atmosphere will be in common use so soon as regular services from point to point are established. Profs. A. L. Rotch and A. H. Palmer have foreseen this, and have just issued a pioneer work giving charts of the conditions prevalent at various times of the year in the vicinity of the Blue Hill Observatory, Mass., especially designed for the use of aëronauts and aviators.

Compasses for aëroplane work have only recently been made practicable. One of the most trustworthy is that invented by Mr. E. H. Clift, and it was largely used by competitors. The difficulty hitherto has been the iron and steel work, the framing, motor, wire stays, and so forth that are used on every aëroplane. A deflection, sometimes as great as 30°, is consequently set up, which has to be corrected by "swinging," that is to say, the head of the machine is moved to every point of the compass in turn, and the errors noted and brought to their lowest dimensions by means of magnets and soft iron balls and bars. Errors are then tabulated and reduced to a curve, which can be plotted to accord with the direction of flight. From this it

can be seen that compasses are still far from perfect, and are thrown out by the movement of metal parts, their breakage, or removal.

In reviewing the race, one is inclined to regret that the biplanes showed up so badly. The cry has gone out that the biplane is dead. This, of course, is sheer nonsense. One of the finest machines built is the Curtiss biplane; the Wright biplane holds all the duration records in America; the Bréguet biplane holds the record for weightcarrying; the Cody biplane may not be very fast, but it is stable and trustworthy; the Bristol biplane went round the European Circuit in very creditable time; and the Roe biplane has shown what can be done in the way of speed. The monoplane for scouting, for racing, and perhaps for ease of transport, has proved itself superior, but the biplane has many points in its favor which cannot be disregarded. Another machine one would have wished to see do better was the Etrich monoplane, flown by Lieut. Bier with Lieut. Banfield as passenger, which, as the outcome of years of labor, is probably the most scientifically constructed monoplane, both from the aëronautical and engineering point of view, in existence. It broke down, like many others, from engine trouble.

People viewing the race from a dis

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tance, or by the more convenient method of newspapers, are inclined to entertain the idea that man can now get up and soar away to the ends of the earth on his lawful occasions with very little trouble, but they reckon without all the vital factors that make for success. First and foremost is the mechanic. Oily and dirty, often starving, usually exhausted to the point of collapse from want of sleep, he follows where the machine leads him. No other but he can tend his own machine; he knows its ways, its moods, and its weaknesses. The touch of his deft fingers removes all cause of complaint and freshens up every flagging part. Then he stands back, watching the white wings sail up into the sky; and they are scarcely out of sight before he takes the road again in his car to follow, anxious, fretful, but enthusiastic, to where his master leads. This is a side of flying as heroic as that of the pilot and as necessary, but gaining no applause and no glory.

A big race is won by everything being of the best-picked pilot, picked machine, picked motor, picked mechanics, and perfect organization. If one fails, all fail. And here, perhaps, our English temperament fails. Nothing in flying is "good enough," as we are inclined to think; it must be the best.

If a new Machiavelli were to write a treatise on the art of subjugating Oriental nations, he would devote his first chapter to the management of despots. There is room in the elaboration of the theory and practice of modern Imperialism for much diversity of method in unessential details. It is a nice question how much or how little of education one should allow to

a subject race. Lord Cromer cut down the school bill of Egypt to the barest minimum; the Russians in the Khanates actually pursue the nomads with travelling schools. Some authorities would subsidize missions; others discourage an indiscreet attention to the soul. There is a school which allows the financiers to skin the sheep alive; the better practice is now thought to

be to shear it regularly. But on one point there is really no room for diverse opinions. A native despot must be maintained. Sultan or Shah, Bey or Khedive, he is absolutely indispensable to the smooth working of any well-adjusted process of absorption or penetration. He gives to the crudest aggression a show of legality and right. Do you send an army to his capital; it is he who summons it. Do you keep a garrison round his palace; he can be made to review it. He is there to answer Europe, to command his subjects, to grant concessions, to save appearances, to cheat reality. Every despot has his price. With pianolas or with vengeance, with operas or with Stock Exchange tips, his acquiescence can be bought. One is cheap at a bottle of rum; another prefers the score of Aïda; a third only asks for a massacre of his private enemies.

It was a bad day for Russia when the Bakhtiari clansmen emerged from their mountains, marched on Teheran, scattered Colonel Liakhoff's Cossacks, and dethroned the Shah. But the wheel has turned at length. There were cynics who predicted that when the late Shah was permitted to settle under Russian guardianship, with a comfortable pension near Odessa, he would be ready, when diplomacy had prepared the way for his return. The cynic loses his pains who expends his wit on Russia. Try as he will, he can only predict the obvious. Events have moved with scarcely decent haste. The essential preliminary was that Russia should contract with Germany what Bismarck would call a treaty of re-insurance. So long as she stood solidly with Britain and France in a Triple Entente, this country had some little hold upon her Persian policy. But when at Potsdam she struck her bargain with Germany, and obtained a free hand in Persia as the price of abandoning her friends in the Bagdad

negotiations, the road lay clear before her. The opportune moment came with the renewal of the Moroccan trouble. Germany would not impede her; Britain and France (if France in this matter counts at all) might be expected to tolerate anything rather than incommode an ally whose neutrality (if not her help) may presently be priceless. So it came about that at the appropriate moment the ex-Shah, who had first of all been allowed to go on holiday to Vienna, boarded an express, crossed Russia, and in a Russian vessel landed at a Persian port. We will not expend space in proving the active or passive complicity of Russia. She had promised to take "effective measures" to prevent him from intriguing against Persia. She had attached at least one Russian officer to his domestic suite. No one who knows her methods will believe that she had neglected to surround him with spies. If he had been a Persian nationalist crossing Russian territory, every passport officer, every policeman, every waiter and concierge in his hotels would have been on the alert to report his words, to read his letters, to announce his plans. The Persians themselves knew vaguely what his project was, and had warned the Russian Government. But one coincidence almost dispenses with further proof. For a week before his arrival in Persia was publicly known, the "Novoe Vremya," for no apparent reason, had been fulminating against an anarchy in Persia which did not yet exist. The public mind had to be prepared for the idea of intervention. Make sure of intervention; the anarchy will come of itself.

For the moment both of the Powers which claim a species of protectorate over Persia have announced that they will observe neutrality in the coming civil war. It is an announcement which the Shah may well interpret as