Why not plant apple-trees?' 'Plant apple-trees !' replied the lackadaisical young man. 'What a job that would be! We can hardly get through our work as it is; and the labour of digging all the holes would be quite beyond us. And then it would be years and years before the trees grew up and we had any fruit. For goodness' sake say no more about it.'

But the visitor was of a determined and obstinate disposition, and was not to be put off so easily; so when he came upon the young man's father he made the same suggestion to him. But he met with no better success in this quarter. The father, a melancholy individual, had endless objections to make. He was a middle-aged man, he said, and in all probability he would not live to enjoy the apples even if the trees ever arrived at maturity and bore fruit. As likely as not the trees would never grow up, for apples were subject to all kinds of diseases and attacks by insects and other pests; and, one way and another, the idea was altogether impracticable. In fact, he was quite disagreeable about it. A little later on the visitor met the grandfather returning from a distant part of the farm. He was a cheery and genial old man, as hale and hearty as could be. He was singing a hymn to Mercury as he walked along. He greeted his guest cordially, and, after a little ordinary conversation, the visitor again started the subject of the apple orchard. The old man jumped at the idea.

By Diespiter [he said], we have most things here, but not a single apple ; and when I come to think of it apples are just the very thing that I want. We will begin at once.

Without a moment's loss of time he shouldered his spade and began to dig the first hole in which to plant an apple-tree, and by the evening it was completed. And he lived long enough to enjoy for many a summer the delicious apples that grew in the orchard and were the envy of all the neighbours. Æsop, unfortunately, has not recorded the old gentleman's name. I wonder if, by any chance, it was Markos Tapleios Optimistokles!

If we want to look for a thorough-going, practical, and successful optimist in the world of to-day we can find him in the person of Sir Robert Baden-Powell, the founder of the Boy Scouts and the younger member of the family, the Girl Guides.

Quod mare non novit, quæ nescit Ariona tellus ? The movement was nothing less than an inspiration. It has covered the world from China to Peru, from pole to pole. Hindoo boys and Japanese girls emulate their English brothers and sisters. The founder of this marvellous organisation could hardly, in his wildest imaginings, have anticipated such splendid results. Looking to our own country only, it came to him that the education and training of our youth were lamentably inadequate. The stereotyped routine of the ordinary school curri

culum, the crowded class-room, the compulsory learning of distasteful subjects, tempered only by brief intervals in the school playground, all this formed a very incomplete and one-sided foundation for the building up of the nation, a most faulty conception of the ' delightful task, to rear the tender thought.' If it appealed to the head it certainly did not do so to the heart. Baden-Powell's keen insight into boy-nature grasped the situation. If he could not reform the existing system during school hours he could supplement it by a training outside those hours which

Emollit mores nec sinet esse feros,

which, while not neglecting the head, should go mostly for the heart, which in the open air should train the young idea to be straightforward, manly, helpful, resourceful and loyal, always ' to play the game,' in short, to become useful, worthy, and happy citizens. The training lays it down that invariable cheerfulness is an essential part of playing the game. The other day a party of fifty Girl Guides from Dr. Barnardo's Homes left our shores for work on New South Wales farms. Her Majesty the Queen received them at Buckingham Palace before they sailed, and wished them good-bye in these gracious words:

It gives me great pleasure to see you here before you start on your journey to New South Wales, and I am glad for your sakes, and for that country, that you are going there. I know the country and have travelled in it, and I believe you will have a kind welcome from people who will be your friends. You are the first girls to go to Australia from Dr. Barnardo's Homes, and I feel sure you will prove as good citizens as those thousands of girls who, during the last twenty-five years, have gone from the Homes to Canada. It will be a fine, healthy, out-of-door life, and though perhaps somewhat strange at first, you must not be disheartened. You will soon get accustomed to your new homes, and I hope you will be very happy.

In wishing you good-bye and good luck, I should like to say to you: Always be cheerful and make the best of things, do what is right, and, whatever may be your task, do your best in it. Remember that life is made up of loyalty loyalty to your friends, loyalty to things beautiful and good, loyalty to your king, and, above all-for that holds all other loyalties together-loyalty to God. I shall always think of you. God bless and keep

you.

'

'Always be cheerful.' Truly an apt corollary to the excerpts from ancient writers that I have placed at the head of this article. This is the brave, splendid optimism that we need, an invigorating tonic for anæmic minds. Cheerfulness has no commercial value is a sentence that I have just come across in one of the monthly magazines. That is hardly the right standard by which to judge of this most enviable quality; but, incidentally, it may be noted that cheerfulness has a high commercial value. Who is going to do business with a surly shopkeeper if a polite and smiling rival can supply the same article on the same terms?

It is advisable to refrain from giving the enemy occasion to blaspheme. Needless to say, I look upon the pessimist as an enemy; and the enemy is almost day by day afforded one very grave occasion to blaspheme. I refer to the publishing of the abominable details of divorce cases. This washing of dirty linen in public fulfils no useful purpose. It does not serve as a deterrent, and so reduce the number of divorces. It conveys undue prominence to the cankers that obtrude themselves upon society. It conveys the entirely wrong impression that the extremely small percentage of marriages that are failures forms in actuality a very considerable proportion thereof. Apart from this, the publication of the disgusting details is an outrage on good taste and an offence to all decent people.

I wonder if I have provided the enemy with a few subjects for reflection !

Autolycus in The Winter's Tale gives us this practical advice:

Jog on, jog on, the footpath way,

And merrily hent the stile-a;

A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires in a mile-a.

E. C. Cox.

The Editor of THE NINETEENTH CENTURY cannot undertake to return unaccepted MSS.

INDEX TO
TO VOL. XCIII

The titles of articles are printed in italics

Cheatle (Sir Lenthal), Ministers of EAGLE (R. L.), Shakespeare and