But all is fresh and clear and gay, Put this pot of Wood's metal Will it fill Dean and Chapter! Byron's apostrophe to his publisher, "My Murray;" Dr. Johnson's witty lines to Mrs. Thrale on her birthday: Oft in danger, yet alive, We are come to thirty-five; Canning, it may be observed, is here, allowed to rank with the poets by virtue of his famous song of "The Pilot that weathered the Storm" and his verses in the Anti-Jacobin, and he certainly deserves to be called a universal genius. The poet [adds Miss Mozley] we need not say, is forever sighing over the youth that is past and gone, not taking note of the youth that remains to him, altogether independent of years. But in fact he is a boy all his life, capable of finding amusement in matters which the plodding man of the world considers puerile, and so conferring on his readers and lovers some share of his own spring, some taste of the freshness which helps to keep the world alive (p. 260). ET Four out of the nine essays in this volume treat of social subjects. Here," as in the Saturday Review essays web have already mentioned, Miss Mozley is at her best. A born essayist, she detects the faults and failings of mankind with as keen an eye and as native a gift of satire as La Bruyère himself, but never loses sight of the deeper and no-t and Canning's memorable despatch to bler side of human nature. Her remarks the English minister at the Hague are are never wanting in truth and good among the curiosities of literature that sense. They are always clever and alfind a place in these pages. This last ways kindly. One of her most amusing was actually sent in cipher to Sir Charles chapters is devoted to the study of temBagot at the end of a prolonged nego-per. Thackeray, we all know, was fond tiation on commercial reciprocity, in of saying that there is no advantage which the proposals made by M. Falck, equal to that of a thoroughly bad temthe Dutch minister, were too one-sided to be accepted. Sir Charles was one day at court, when a brief but urgent despatch from the secretary of state for foreign affairs was put into his hand, and after an interval of delay before the key could be obtained, to his intense amazement, he deciphered the following words: per, since people are sure to let its owner enjoy everything of the best rather than run the risk of opposing him. Miss Mozley so far agrees with him, as to say that a bad temper does often seem favorable to health. The man who has been a Turk all his life, survives all those whom he has plagued; but, on the other hand, many a rich In matters of commerce the fault of the man's bad temper preaches a constant sermon of content to his poorer neighbors. They would rather go without his money than have his sour spirit of discontent. On the whole, we think Miss Mozley is decidedly indulgent towards sinners in this respect. She thinks there is so much to provoke us all in the topsy-turvy course of this world's affairs, that temper should rather invite than repel our sympathy. No body is liked the worse for giving way | selves to let them know our opinion? If to occasional bursts of temper, and conscience gives an affirmative answer, then some forms of temper are positively we may be sure we have a temper that attractive. Women especially tolerate would come under some other denomination ill-temper in the men who are near and than sweet, or good, or even well-regulated dear to them with marvellous patience a temper to be mended, a task to take in and a firm belief in their own powers of subduing it. The writer goes on to analyze the different varieties of temper from an artistic point of view. She distinguishes between the aggressive temper and the bad one, the petulant temper and the grumbling one, the violent temper and the sullen one, the melancholy, carping temper and the sprightly, carping temper, which is every bit as irritating in its way. But all these forms of temper alike give pain to others, and the person whose frequent mood is to give pain, the writer wisely remarks, separates himself from our sympathies by a gap not easily bridged over. Miss Mozley thinks that on the whole women have improved in the control of their tempers since the days of Addison and "The Spectator." In those times the sight of a woman of rank and fashion in a violent rage seems to have been a common occurrence in society. At least, ladies no longer throw scalding teakettles at their visitors' heads, or fly at their husbands' periwigs. Neither would the servants of the present age put up with kicks and coups de bâton, or take half-crowns in atonement for cuffs and blows from their master or mistress. But too many homes are darkened and too many lives are still made miserable by ill-temper to treat the subject lightly, and Miss Mozley euds seriously enough. Do quarrels gather round us? Are we fruitful hot water," living in a commotion? Are people solicitous to please us, as though it were not an easy matter to do so -vigilant to see how we take things, forTard with apologies, anxious in civilities? Are we bent on giving pleasure our way, and vexed when people prefer their own? Do we lose our friends by an exceptional hand (p. 218). In another essay, under the polite phrase of "Social Hyperbole," the author enters her protest against the modern use of slang as destructive of all good talk. There is, she observes, in the youth of the present day a general disposition to reduce all definition to two or three terms. All that affects the boy pleasantly is jolly, all that bores the girl is horrid, all they find tiresome is awful, while a compound of the two is employed to signify every degree of satisfaction, and the boy or girl who desires to express the climax of contentment can find no better phrase than that of "awfully jolly." Now a great deal of this economy of language, Miss Mozley observes, is due to mental laziness. A word that will do for all occasions, and "like the bark of a dog depends for its meaning upon intonation," certainly saves trouble, and from soft and ruddy lips may pass for the "sweet audacity of youth." But when the first charm of early youth is past, when these airy talkers reach the age of thirty, what are they to do? They have for so many years restricted their vocabulary to two or three adverbs and adjectives that they have forgotten how to use fitting epithets, and are forced to retire into social obscurity. There can be no doubt that a time does come to all of us when “jolly" and "horrid "" and " awful " cease to be graceful. The English as a nation have never been distinguished for good talking. Madame de Staël once said that the English could talk well, but that since the art of conversation did not advance their fortunes they took no trouble about it. The failing, we fear, is, as Miss Mozley remarks, a growing Few people nowadays care to lis one. inconstancy on their part? Have we a ten to good talk, and ordinary English large stock of grievances? Do we find a conversation is curiously wanting in at many people irritable, unreasonable, finish and accuracy. Yet accurate talkagreeable, and consider it due to our-ing leads to accurate thinking, just as clear thought leads to clear speaking. | because it is a system, but because the "Practice in words clears up ideas" mother's recollections of her own educa(p. 5). tion lead her in this direction children Miss Mozley expands her views on this subject, and on the larger field of young people's training, more fully in the admirable essay entitled "Schools of Mind and Manners," a chapter which every parent of the present day ought to read attentively. As might be expected, she complains of the lack of discipline and bad manners in the children of the period, and defends the old system under which training in manners was considered even more important than actual book learning. In her eyes good manners are something more than a mere adornment. With the sweetest singer of the age she holds that manners are not idle, but the fruit of noble mind." Yet in these days, when so much attention is paid to intellectual development, this part of education is strangely neglected. 66 While so great a point is made of thoroughness in all other learning, the mere ABC grounding of manners threatens to be left untaught. It seems supposed that, given so much intellectual culture, boys and girls, by the mere process of growing old, turn into polite, considerate men and women. We do not believe it. Many arts and sciences are more easily acquired late in life than a good manner. If people are to behave well they must be early taught to behave- —a practice that demands unceasing sacrifices of minute personal liking to the general pleasure and convenience (p. 303). Miss Mozley dwells especially on the importance of teaching children to listen. Children who are perpetually chattering to one another never acquire the habit of intelligent listening, and lose a great deal which they might easily acquire by the exercise of this faculty. The intellectual sympathy that makes men and women good companions is acquired by listening, not by talking. And it is to the neglect of early training in this respect that the decay of conversation as an art is in a great measure to be ascribed. Yet still, even in these degenerate days, Miss Mozley reflects with satisfaction, there are children who are brought up on the old system - not who respond with dutiful alacrity to the training of manners; who are obedient to rule, courteous, friendly, hospitable to strangers in their small, innocent way; who i greet with a smile welcome company, and brighten under it; who watch their mother's eye and obey her behests, and so doing catch her grace of air and movement. These are children, whatever their literary attainIments, who will grow into gentle, refining influences; who will perpetuate good traditions, and maintain the charm as well as the virtues of family life. And, moreover, whatever their store of exact knowledge, they will have a diction and facility of expression which perhaps will more than stand comparison with others deeper read, but less practised in social intercourse (p. 281). We admit the charm of the picture and confess that the modern child as a rule falls decidedly short of the writer's ideal. But, perhaps, if we may venture to say so, some compensation for this lack of discipline and want of attention to manners may be found in the superior thoroughness of intellectual training which our children receive, and which certainly ought to counteract in some degree the absence of strictness that marks our present system of education. But no one will dispute the truth of the writer's remarks or the need there is for parents, as well as children, to be sometimes reminded that it is, after all, in the words of the old Wykehamist motto, Manners that make the man. And the subject is one on which Miss Mozley had a good right to express an opinion, for she herself was a model of good breeding, and combined the most winning and graceful courtesy with the highest intellectual culture and literary attainments. She was indeed a perfect type of the refined and cultivated gentlewoman of a generation that is fast passing away. One more essay that strikes us as very pleasant reading is "The Four Ages." Here the writer takes up her pen gallantly, in defence of that comparatively dull and uninteresting period of life generally known as middle age. ment. While freely owning the fascination of indifference to the outer world which childhood and youth, and the beauty of sometimes marks old age." To the end a serene old age, she writes brightly and of her life she never lost her interest in vigorously of that mezzo del cammin della everything that was happening around rita which after all marks the moment her, and to the last she kept her youthof our mental prime forty or forty-ful spirits and keen capacity for enjoyfive; with some it is fifty. These middle decades of life, she argues, between forty and fifty, or even sixty, are a capital working time; for then the gains of thought and experience, and in most cases that very important factor in human life liberty of action, more than compensate for the loss of youthful ardor and the fading of our early dreams. This is our period of maturity, answering to the summer and autumn of the natural world. Here we have the time of performance, the week-days of labor wherein the true work of the world is done. If the pleasures and advantages of middle life-that âge viril which, in La Bruyère's words, we do not esteem as highly as it deserves were acknowledged as openly as they are enjoyed and appreciated in reality, there would be less of the sentimental regret for the springtime of life, less of that "foolish aping of youth" which is now so often to be seen among middle-aged persons. But the truth is, "most people go by looks," and that part of life when we were comeliest and all things became us retains its fascination for the memory. The true wisdom, she concludes, is Deither to anticipate the pleasures or duties of each stage, but to enjoy and profit by each in turn, when it comes, and so make life one harmonious whole. in all classes of life active industry keeps of the sense and spread of approaching old age. The busy man, whether statesman or shopkeeper, has his mind still fixed on the future. He looks forward and so retains the habits and sensations of youth when the fact is long past. But nothing, the writer adds in conclusion, cheers the whole prospect of life to the young like a picture of calm, bright, intelligent old age" (p. 148). The words remind us of some others that were spoken not long ago of Miss Mozley herself: "We never thought of her as an old lady. She never suffered that contraction into her own self, that The Bishop of Salisbury, who was closely associated with Miss Mozley in the publication of her brother's works, and could speak from experience of her literary qualities, tells us that to these she owed much of the freshness and charm of her old age. They assured for her a perpetual youth; they environed her with an atmosphere of grace and dignity; they invested her with a right to direct and command, through the possession of an almost manly vigor, and a right to receive willing homage by virtue of her feminine sweetness and refinement" (p. xx.). During the last months of her life she became almost entirely blind, but in her darkened state she was still the centre of interest and conversation, still the same attentive listener and keen critic that she had always been. Her delight in the company of young people never failed. In her last days she was never happier than when surrounded by the children of the family, the great-nephews and nieces in whose hearts Aunt Anne will long remain a cherished memory. Even the sense of dependence upon others, trying as it must have been to one of her character, did not disturb the serenity of her nature. Strangers who saw her for the first time called her the sweetest old lady they had ever met. She did not long survive the publication of Cardinal Newman's "Letters," and only lived long enough to witness the warm praise with which her great work was received by those whose opinion she most valued. Her task was done, and when the call came she was ready to go. She had always had the blessing of good health, and she was spared suffering at the last. A sudden cold brought on an attack of short but sharp illness, under which she sank rapidly, and on June 27, 1891, she passed quietly away. A few days afterwards she was buried at Barrow, where many of the happiest and most fruitful days of her life had been spent, and that time- I agreed with him that i where her name is still fondly remem- was hopeless our trying to learn any. bered. The poor flocked to her funeral, thing that they did not know about the and surprise was expressed at the pres-weather; about hunting, fishing, and ence of one old woman who had been trapping; the operations of nature; the her Sunday scholar long ago. "I habits of bird, beast, and fish, and suchcouldn't do no otherwise," was the an- like occult arts and sciences. swer that came from a full heart. Many who had known Anne Mozley share the feeling that prompted these words. We are grateful to her for her life and for her work, for her large sympathies and her unshaken faith, for the loyalty with which she held fast to the Church of her fathers, for the talents that she devoted to its service. Above all we thank her for the great traditions which she has preserved of the movement and of the men to whom we owe so much. From Chambers' Journal. A WINTER'S TALE. But when spring came and the clang of the geese echoed on river, lake and slough (Canadian pronunciation " 'sleugh "), and the long-drawn caw of the crow as he loafed across country resounded down the valley; and the young poplars and the willows, the saskatoon and all wild fruit-trees seemed to vie with one another in the race of growth, I began to wonder to myself what a hard winter was like, if the last six months represented an open one. About the middle of October, 1887. the colonel and I left our temporary winter quarters a short distance from Castle Avery, to go down with the oxen and wagon to Birtle to enter for our WE were watering the oxen at the land, and lay in stores and clothing fort well - Douglas and I-smoking and the winter. We started one day after talking as we watched the cattle drink-dinner, travelling the twelve miles to ing and sniffing between each bucketful Shellmouth before supper, and staying with a lazy satisfaction peculiar to their there till morning, covered the fifty kind, and then carefully knocking over miles thence to our destination in the the pails with their noses after every course of the next two days. drink. When I reflect on the number of pails Brandy and Soda broke in a year by these and other means, it is a wonder to me now that we made out as well as we did at first with our farming operations. Douglas was a Scotch Canadian, up from the Portage on a visit to some friends, but an old-timer who knew the North-western prairies from Winnipeg to the Rockies, and from Prince Albert to the Moose Mountains, as well as the red men themselves. We entered for our homesteads, and having attended to other necessary business, made all haste to get back, for the weather was wild and threatening, and the hard state of the trails and frequent snow-showers made our mode of progression unpleasant in the extreme; though on other matters we had no anxiety, as we had left everything at the ranch in care of our good friend Leslie. We did well to hasten, for on the night of the 22d there was a heavy We were sorry to hear from him that snowstorm, and the mercury suddenly the Indians had prophesied an open fell to fifteen below zero. The next winter, for we knew that they seldom day, Will Jameson, Jim Burt, and I blundered as to weather. Open winters, broke the ice at the North Crossing of he continued, were a nuisance and hard the Assiniboine, and made our way over on axles, for they meant severe frosts the river in the boat, because we were and little snow, with frequent heavy afraid that the comparatively thin crust thaws a state of affairs that would not of ice would not bear us. I remember admit of running sleighs successfully, the occasion well, for Jameson and I and knocked wagons to splinters. Still stood on the south bank for about the Indians had foretold it, and at twenty minutes, shouting in the teeth |