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of particulars, the fruit of my own observation, would, in any material point, have disturbed the conclusions at which I have arrived.

result of each system, seems to harmonize best with the character of the respective peoples. The Canadian chooses his type of School as the Vicar of Wakefield's wife chose her wedding-gown, and as the Vicar of Wakefield chose his wife, 'not for a fine glossy surface, but for such qualities as will wear well.' I cannot say, judging from the Schools which I have seen-which I take to be types of their best Schools-that they have any reason to be disappointed with the results. I speak of the general character of education to which they evidently lean.— That the actual results should be unequal, often in the widest possible degree, is true of education under all systems, everywhere."

"The chief specialities of the Canadian methods were long lessons, generally a continuous hour to each subject; in reading, the requirement that the pupils should possess themselves of the matter of the lesson; in teaching grammar, the stress laid on the distinction between prefixes, roots, and affixes, and on etymology generally; and, generally, the discouragement given to rapid answering and the time allowed for reflection and thought. Entering a Canadian School, with American impressions fresh upon the mind, the first feeling is one of disappointment. One misses the life, the motion, the vivacity, the precision-in a word, the brilliancy. But as you stay, and pass both teacher and pupils in review, the feeling of disappointment gives way to a feeling of surprise. You find that this plain, unpretending teacher has the power, and has successfully used the power, of communicating real solid knowledge and good sense to those youthful minds, which, if they do not move rapidly, at least grasp, when they do take hold, firmly. If there is an appearance of what the Americans call 'loose ends' in the School, it is only an appearance. knowledge is stowed away compactly enough in its proper compartments, and is at hand, not perhaps very promptly, but pretty surely, when wanted. To set off against their quickness, I heard many random answers in American Schools; while per contra to the slowness of the Canadian scholar, I seldom got a reply very wide of the mark. The It appears from the Report of the Chief whole teaching was homely, but it was Superintendent of Education for 1870, that sound. I chanced to meet a Schoolmaster the number of boys who attended the Public at Toronto who had kept School in Canada, Schools of Ontario in that year was 233,381, and was then keeping school at Haarlem, and of girls 209,137; the total of both being New York, and he gave Canadian educa- 442,518. The expenditure for these schools tion the preference for thoroughness and was from Legislative grant $179,252; from solid results. Municipal School assessment, $385,284; "Each system, or rather I should say the from Trustees' School assessment $951,099;

The

This comparison, as a statement of apparent results, is probably as fair an one as can be made; but any general comparison of the systems may be modified by the consideration that, while the Common Schools of the United States are attended by the children of all classes of the population, there are still in Ontario, especially in the cities and towns, many parents who have not yet surmounted their prejudice against Common Schools, and who prefer to send their children to private adventure schools, chiefly because they are of a more exclusive character, and, as is supposed, of a higher social tone. A preference of this kind cannot be affected by abstract reasoning, and only as our Public Schools advance in efficiency and reputation will our people become less willing to pay both a school tax for the benefit of the children of others, and school fees in addition, for the probably not better education of their own.

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DINAH BLAKE'S REVENGE.

CHAPTER XIII.

A NARROW ESCAPE.

BY MRS. J. V. NOEL.

EEPLY interested in her book, Jose

interested in her ope

phine Dormer sat quietly reading undisturbed by the rush and roar of the rising tide. A huge billow rolling up loud and angry against the extremity of the point, sending a shower of spray over it, at length roused her to some sense of her imminent peril. She started to her feet in surprise, and gazed out upon the vast expanse of foaming water.

"The tide is coming in, but it will not rise to where I am," she said, to assure her self. "The woman surely would not have told me to come out here if there was any danger of the promontory being covered." Again she sat down upon the rock, but did not resume the perusal of her book. Keep ing her eye fixed anxiously on a tall, crested wave rolling majestically towards her. Nearer and nearer it came, rearing its white crest, and now it thunders upon the rocky point, breaking almost at her feet, and sending her shrieking with terror from the spot. That wild cry reached the boat, and thrilled the heart of Sir Gerard Trevor. "Bedad! that wave near done for her," exclaimed Dinah. "She sees her danger now, and is flying for her life; but, blessed Mary, save her! The sae is now almost level with the pint and will soon be dashing over it. Row, Sir Gerard, for the bare life," she continued, excitedly straining every nerve to propel the heavy craft faster; "Bad 'cess to ye for a baste of a boat," she added impatiently, "sure you never was meant to be rowed at all. It's almost as hard to move ye as the Rock of Cashel !"

Sir Gerard did not require any urging to increase the superhuman efforts he was making to reach the promontory; his face, white with excitement, was covered with large beads of perspiration, while his compressed lips and dilated eye expressed a fixed determination to rescue Josephine or perish with her. The danger threatening her became every moment more imminent. The volume of water continually increasing as the tide rolled on, was now level with the promontory, ready to dash over it and cut off her rapid retreat. In her first alarm she had fled onwards looking neither to the right nor left, her one thought to outstrip the rushing waves, so that the boat approaching slowly to the rescue was unnoticed. At length an encouraging shout coming across the surging waters thrilled her with sudden joy-human aid was at hand! She would not perish! She recognized the occupants of the boat. Sir Gerard Trevor was coming to the rescue—he would save her, thank God! How fervently that ejaculation was uttered by the terrorstricken girl! The sudden revulsion of feeling gave her new strength and courage, and she needed it now for the water was pouring upon the promontory, and she was wading through it ankle deep. She must in a few moments be swept off by the force of the waves; but fortunately she had now reached a part of the point which rose higher than the rest, and where some small rocks were piled one above another. This afforded her a temporary refuge from the force of the tide. She climbed to the highest part and there sat down, trembling yet hopeful, to await the approach of the boat. Would it never come? How slowly it moved, and the cruel tide rising higher and

higher! The sun was shining brightly in the blue heavens and its garish beams glistened on the ocean and gleamed upon the white face of Josephine, as she sat there in her perilously-picturesque situation. What a study for a painter was that scene! The watery expanse around, and those few rocks rising yet unsubmerged with the frail, beautiful girl sitting on their summit, keeping her eyes fixed wildly on that craft struggling for her rescue, with the pitiless waves hungering for their prey. A life time of suffering seemed to be gathered into that short period of awful suspense, the memory of which never ceased to haunt not only Josephine but Sir Gerard Trevor.

"The saints be praised we have got to her at last!" was Dinah Blake's exclamation, with a sigh of intense relief, as the boat reached the rocks, and Josephine sprang into it with a cry of joy, relieving her intensely excited feelings by a burst of tears. "It is just in time; thank God! you are saved," said Sir Gerard in the choked voice of strong emotion; then in almost incoherent words he tried to soothe Josephine, but nearly broke down himself in the deep agitation of the moment.

"Let her cry, it'll do her good!" said Dinah, eyeing her compassionately. "It's a way women have of soothering themselves; but it never was my way," she added, contemptuously. "Well, we have had a tough row for it," she continued, wiping the perspiration from her brown, rugged face, "it's the hardest job I've done for many a day."

"It will not go unrewarded," remarked Sir Gerard, gratefully. "Without your help I never could have saved her; you have made me indebted to you for life, and be assured I shall not forget it."

"I didn't do for gain," she answered, testily, "and I want none of your pay for it aither."

"How very kind of you to take so much trouble for me," was Josephine's grateful

observation, as she took the horny, brown hand of Dinah, and pressed it tenderly. She drew it hastily away, as if the small, white hands of the girl burned her.

"How could I help stretching out a hand to save you, when it was my fault that you were in such danger?" she asked, gruffly. "It's harm enough I've done you already," she muttered, as she took up her oar again, to assist Sir Gerard in rowing the boat to shore.

"How did you harm me?" asked Josephine, with a look of surprise, her quick ear having caught the murmured words.

"Who said I did ?" was the evasive reply, in tones meant to stop further enquiry.

"How fortunate it was that I came down to the beach in pursuit of you," said Sir Gerard, his voice still tremulous from recent excitement. "You must not venture on that promontory again."

"Why not?" interrupted Dinah, in her abrupt way; "Sure there's no danger at all most of the year, unless just when the tide is at the highest. You might go out there every other day withont wetting the sole of your shoe."

"I shall never go out there again, never!" said Josephine, with a shudder, "I do not know enough about the tides to understand when I may venture without risk. Oh, what an escape I have had! What a debt of gratitude I owe you both!" and she looked from Dinah Blake to Sir Gerard, with an expression of the deepest gratitude in her tearful eyes.

"Do not speak to me of gratitude," said the baronet, in the deep, low tones of passionate emotion, bending his eyes upon her with a look that made hers quickly drop beneath that ardent gaze, which flashed on her so thrilling a revelation. "If you had perished, I would have died with: you."

The low, fond words of Sir Gerard did not escape the watchful ear of Dinah; her suspicions that the young man loved the gir

were confirmed, and an angry expression abruptly away, refusing with a gesture of grew into her dark, stern face. angry scorn the money which Sir Gerard offered her.

"A purty fellow you are, indeed, to be making love to her, and you engaged to another woman," broke from her with an indignant flash in her restless, black eye. Sir Gerard stared at her with angry surprise. "Oh! you need not purtend not to know what I mean,” Dinah rejoined sharply, "but you're like all the rest of the men running afther every new face you see. Sorra depindence to be placed on any of ye," she added with a contemptuous curl of her thin lip.

"You speak in riddles, woman !" said the Baronet with subdued anger, "I am not engaged to any lady."

"I thought you was to marry the young lady at the Big House. Bedad that's what is expicted of you any how and sure it would be the making of you by rason of the fortune she has and your own estate gone to the bad entirely, bekase of the life your ould father led." Dinah spoke with cool insolence. The idea that Sir Gerard Trevor would marry Josephine instead of Miss Barrington seemed to cause her much annoyHer remarks sent the deep flush of rage to the face of Sir Gerard, but he controlled his temper; the woman had lately rendered him an incalculable benefit, he could not show resentment towards one who had aided him in saving the precious life of Josephine; without Dinah's help he never could have reached the promontory in time to rescue her from the pitiless waters. He contented himself by asserting again that there was no engagement between him and Eva Barrington, speaking in tones of forced calmness, fixing his eyes as he spoke on Josephine, who read in their clear depths the truthfulness of what he affirmed. During the rest of the time which it took them to reach the land, Dinah Blake maintained a sullen silence, doing her part of the rowing, however, with good will. When they landed, after helping to moor the boat, she turned

"I tould you I did not do it for goold," she said fiercely. "It's ill luck I was in it at all to help ye," she muttered as she strode hastily along the narrow strip of shore as yet unflooded at the base of the tall cliffs. Quickly along this dry path Sir Gerard now hurried Josephine, for he knew that in a few minutes more even that would be flooded by the encroaching tide. At length they reached the cove, near which Max. Butler's residence was situated and turned up the pebbly way leading to it from the shore. At home again and safe! What an agony of dread and terror had Josephine experienced since she left it not two hours before, and what deep thankfulness welled up in her heart towards that merciful Providence which had preserved her from a watery grave! That evening was spent by Sir Gerard Trevor at the cottage, and before he left it he made Josephine an offer of his hand, contrary to his previous intention of waiting till he got a deeper insight into her character. But the events of that day had shown him how inexpressibly dear the girl was to him and the wild anguish he had experienced at the thought of losing her had convinced him that the happiness of his life depended on winning her. This declaration of love filled Josephine with indescribable happiness, for she had already given her first pure affections to the handsome young Baronet ; but the course of true love in this case did not run smooth. Lady Trevor objected to the marriage and Mrs. Dormer and Max. declined the honour of Sir Gerard's alliance. until her ladyship's consent was obtained. But Sir Gerard did not despair for he hoped in time to remove this only obstacle to his happiness for youth is ever sanguine, it needs the crushing disappointments of life to dim the star of hope or sink it entirely beneath our clouded horizon.

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