The persecution, the cross-examination, the abuse proceed without respite. At ten o'clock that same Monday morning the prisoner is brought into the Parliament Hall to receive sentence. The picture we have of him here is characteristic of the man we saw in the past. He desires to meet contumely dressed as befits one of his descent and station if he can have it so. Though he is refused a razor, lest he should balk his captors of their ceremony of the morrow, he is allowed to dress in the apparel provided by friends.

'He presented himself,' says Sir James Balfour, 'in a suit of black cloth, and a scarlet coat to his knee, trimmed with silver galoons, lined with crimson tafta; on his head a beaver hat and silver band. He looked somewhat pale, lank-faced and hairy.'

His captors are to note that the proud spirit of James Graham is not crushed yet, and the note of defiance sounded in the sumptuousness of his dress is manifest in his whole demeanour, and in the address he delivers before his peers, a portion of which we have already quoted. Dignity and deliberation are not lacking here, nor a touch of eloquence-creditable when we think on the narrow margin of peace and solitude allowed him in the Tolbooth.

The Covenant, he admits, he took and was faithful to it. As for the Solemn League and Covenant, he had no part in it, thank God! and so could not break it. His late Majesty's commands to him appeared just and such as he conceived himself bound in conscience and duty to obey. As he came in upon his late Majesty's Warrant, so upon his letters he retired.

And as for my coming at this time [he continues], it was by his Majesty's just commands, in order to the accelerating the treaty betwixt him and you; his Majesty knowing that whenever he had ended with you, I was ready to retire upon his call. . . . Never subject acted upon more honourable grounds, nor by so lawful a power, as I did in these services.

...

Montrose might have spared himself this brave falsehood! His judges have information of their own that his Majesty intended no more with his 'just commands' than to treat his envoy as a pawn in a game of chess-as a tool to be thrown aside when no longer required. The young King had urged his envoy upon his desperate errand with the following assurances :

I will not determine anything touching the affairs of that kingdom [Scotland] without having your advice thereupon. . . . I will not do anything prejudicial to your commission. I entreat you to go on vigorously. . .

And Montrose, acknowledging his Sovereign's commands and gracious bestowal of the Garter, had assured him that. With

the more alacrity and bensell shall I abandon still my life to search my death for the interests of your Majesty's honour and service.' Charles' intention had been to profit by Montrose's venture if successful, to repudiate it if it failed; and no doubt he counted on the loyalty that had never yet faltered to carry his victim silent to his end. In the matter of good faith, the King had appraised his subject more correctly than the subject his King.

The reply of the Lord Chancellor, Loudoun, to Montrose's speech, deals largely in invective, but its closing words contain a venomed shaft intended to strike the prisoner in the most vulnerable quarter. He refers to Montrose as 'one whose boundless pride and ambition had lost the father and done what in him lay to destroy the son likewise.'

Montrose's attempt at a rejoinder is checked. Instead he is commanded to kneel in the place of delinquents and receive sentence from Archibald Johnston, Lord Clerk Register; which sentence decrees that James Graham be hanged on a gibbet at the cross of Edinburgh with his history and declaration hung about his neck, and hang three hours thereafter in the view of the people; that he be thereafter beheaded and quartered; his head to be affixed at the prison house of Edinburgh and his legs and arms to be fixed at the ports of the towns of Stirling, Glasgow, Perth, and Aberdeen; and the body buried by the hangman's men in the Borough muir.

We shall quote Sir J. Balfour's note of the proceedings again :

Immediately arising from off his knees without speaking one word, he [Montrose] was removed thence to prison. He behaved himself all the time in the house with a great deal of courage and modesty, unmoved and undaunted . . . only, he sighed two several times and rolled his eyes alongst all the corners of the house, and at the reading of the sentence he lifted up his face without any words speaking.

For a moment we see beneath the surface and have a hint of the struggle taking place below.

The effort to school soul and body into submission and to have done with life is revealed to us yet further in the Wigton Manuscript.

'It is acknowledged,' says this document, commenting on the prisoner's last hours in the Tolbooth, that he rested. kindly those nights except sometimes when at prayers.'

VI

Here we will take our leave of Montrose. The sordid details of the scaffold, the pride brought low at last by force of circumstances these have no real place in the portrait we have attempted to trace. They are foreign to Montrose's personality.

It is not as the passive victim in the hands of the executioner that he lives for us, but as the undaunted, indomitable leader of a temper aspiring and lofty,' 'very hard to be guided.'

He elected to follow

The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard,

and he followed it with a passionate enthusiasm that makes our pity superfluous and the word 'failure' seem inapplicable to his career.

It is true that, judged by the standard of material results, his triumph was transitory, and his heroism availed little in the end. Yet to-day, when the bitter fanaticism of the Covenanters seems remote and alien, the glamour of Montrose's name retains its hold upon our imagination.

He has had his full share of honour at the hands of this generation, but it has been left to an old Highland ghillie on the banks of the river Beauly to pay to Montrose the tribute that he himself would most have prized. The late Mr. Andrew Lang, in a footnote to his History of Scotland, has placed on record the reply made by the old man to the stranger who accosted him.

'My name,' he said—and the words, simple enough in themselves, are yet charged with all the feeling that Highland and clan tradition can give them-' my name is Campbell, but my heart is with the great Montrose.'

HELEN GRAHAM.

THE UNIVERSITIES AND THE

PUBLIC SERVICE

THE University is, or ought to be, a place of study where all the knowledge of the time is pursued. It is thus a place for the training of professional men-doctors, surgeons, engineers, lawyers, cultivators, schoolmasters, divines. It is also a place for those specialists whose profession is learning, whose primary function is to drive back some little way the frontiers of ignorance, to advance the frontiers of knowledge; with these classes this paper is not concerned.

But there are other classes of professional men who cannot acquire their speciality at a University. No Economics Tripos, no school of business, can teach a man to manage a factory, to extend the credit and the sales of a commercial house, to direct the currents of finance. These arts can only be learnt in the school of life. It is a doubtful point whether a man is a better business man for having studied at a University. Some still hold that a man who intends to devote himself to business had better start quite young and serve a full apprenticeship. But there is no doubt that a business man should be a completer man for having followed liberal studies in his earlier manhood. He should have a wider knowledge of the meaning and interrelations of human life; the simplest daily function should bear for him a larger significance; he may even be able to hear the music of the spheres while he is totting up the books. To hear that music without losing hold upon everyday life is the highest gift of education.

The man of commerce and industry should gain as a man through the wide education that can be obtained at a University; but it is not there that he will learn the rudiments of his business. But there is another class of whom it may almost be said that they serve their apprenticeship in the University. Every year about a hundred of our best young men, when they leave the Universities, pass into the administrative service of the Empire in India, in the Far East, in the public departments at home. Others enter the diplomatic service and the consular service. Perhaps an even larger number devote the whole or a part of their time to Parliament, to municipal work, or to some of

the multifarious public activities which our social life encourages. Others become journalists-the free-lances of public life. What should the University do for the young men who come to her to be prepared for public life?

In the first place, they may expect that she will sharpen their wits. That she can hardly fail to do, if they have any wits to sharpen. Social intercourse, the play and fence of eager minds, debating societies, long talks in the late hours of all the mysteries of God and man, these form a stadium in which youth is trained to run, without knowing that it is being trained. Beyond this, almost any course of study affords a training for the mind. Mathematics afford one kind of training, the Natural Sciences another, the Classics a different one, the Law yet another; the difference in the value of these studies depends not so much. on the amount of mental training afforded as on the varying degree in which they illuminate the imagination, extend the field of thought, and provide a working basis for a sane conception of life in the round. For the public man and the public servant the education given by the University should be wide, not desultory; solid, not abstract; it should not neglect the material world, but it should be principally concerned with humanity. Any knowledge that is incidentally acquired will be useful, but knowledge is not the object of education. On the other hand, there are some accomplishments so useful to the public man that any education would be for him incomplete which did not deliberately aim at developing them. Chief among these accomplishments is the mastery of the written and the spoken word.

I leave aside those preliminary studies which should be completed at school. It would be a good thing for this country if no man were admitted to a University unless he could produce a leaving certificate, setting forth that he had pursued his studies at an efficient school for an approved period, and had followed prescribed courses and passed prescribed tests in English, history, geography, one foreign language, mathematics, and one experimental science. But we are a long way from such an ideal at present, and our Universities must be content to do their best with the material, not infrequently half-prepared, which the schools send to them. They should not devote themselves to making good the deficiencies of secondary education.

The education intended for our public men and public servants should be solid, not abstract. I do not wish to depreciate mathematics, which have done more to enlarge the field of human knowledge than any other branch of science. But our public man must not lose touch, even for a moment, with human nature. If he imagines that men can be governed by a formula, indicated by