ored at another, the duplication of the lines may be an effect produced by the progressive ripening from the middle of the fertile belts outwards. There is nothing very improbable about this view; nevertheless, it is not an altogether satisfactory solution of the puzzle. In fact, the double canals on Mars tantalize astronomers by their extraordinary appearance, and the confession has to be made that the mystery they contain has yet to be unravelled.

FLASH LIGHTS.

It has been suggested that the canals on Mars are duplicated by the inhabitants to call the attention of terrestrial astronomers to their planet-that, in fact, they are signals for us to decipher. From their great length and their development with the seasons, this opinion seems quite untenable, flattering though it is to the human mind. Certain bright flashes, occasionally seen, possess the characteristics of signals to a far greater degree. Mr. Lowell observed two flashes of this kind in 1894, but he regards them as due to light reflected from an ice-slope. His picturesque description gives the facts additional interest:-"As I was watching the planet," he says, "I saw suddenly two points like stars flash out in the midst of the polar cap. Dazzlingly bright upon the duller white background of the snow, these stars shone for a few moments and then slowly disappeared. The seeing at the time was very good. It is at once evident what the other world apparitions were, not the fabled signal lights of Martian folk, but the glint of ice-slopes flashing for a moment earthward as the rotation of the planet turned the slope to the proper angle; just as in sailing near some glass-windowed house near set of sun, you shall, for a moment or two, catch a dazzling glint of glory from its panes, which then vanishes as it came. But

though no intelligence lay behind the action of these lights, they were none the less startling for being Nature's own flash lights across one hundred millions of miles of space. It had taken them nine minutes to make the journey; nine minutes before they had reached earth they had ceased to be on Mars, and after their travel of one hundred million of miles found to note them but one watcher, alone on a hill-top with the dawn."

These bright flashes should not be confused with the bright prominences sometimes observed on the planet's edge. The later were seen for the first time in 1890, and have since been detected on every occasion when Mars occupied a good position in the heavens. They may be mountain-tops capped with snow like our own mountains, or they may be white clouds floating in the

Martian atmosphere. Accepting the later interpretation (and it is the more probable of the two), the conclusion is that Mars has an atmosphere similar to that surrounding the earth, and with clouds moving in it. Strange flocculent white patches sometimes cover up permanent markings on the planet's face, and their appearance, as well as their evanescent character, afford evidence of the existence of clouds in the Martian sky.

POSSIBLE FORMS OF LIFE.

Mars thus possesses so many features in common with the earth that it is impossible to resist the thought that it also has inhabitants. This is, however, by no means equivalent to saying that Martian folk are constituted in the same way as human beings; indeed, every consideration points to the contrary. Whatever atmosphere exists on Mars must be much thinner than ours, and far too rare to sustain the life of a people with our limited lung capacity. A race with immense chests could live

under such conditions, or a folk with gills like fishes could pass a comfortable existence in spite of the rarefied air. The character of life anywhere is, in fact, moulded by the external circumstances, and as these are known to be different on Mars from what they are on the earth, Martian inhabitants must have developed peculiar characteristics in order to adapt themselves to their environments-the forms of life capable of flourishing in attenuated air have survived, while those requiring denser air have dropped out of existence.

The tenuity of the atmosphere of Mars is not the only fact which suggests that the inhabitants of that planet are not fashioned after the image of man. It is known beyond the possibility of doubt that the force with which a substance is attracted to the surface of Mars is but little more than a third as strong as it is on the earth; or, to express the point in figures, one hundred pounds on the earth would only weigh thirty-eight pounds on Mars if tested in a spring balance. In consequence of this weaker pull, it would be possible for a human being to perform astonishing feats on Mars without excessive muscular exertion. A man who could jump five feet here could top fifteen there; he could lift three hundredweight by putting out the same strength as is required to raise one hundredweight on the earth; he could spring across a road as easily as he now leaps over a mud puddle, and a couple of bounds would carry him to the top of a flight of stairs.

But, paradoxical as it may seem, the smaller the planet, and, consequently, the less pull of gravity at its surface, the greater is the probability that its inhabitants are giants compared with us. Terrestrial giants are generally weak in the knees; they are crushed by their own weight. But on Mars they would only weigh one-third as much,

and would, therefore, be able to move about in a sprightly fashion, so that an elephant there might be quite a nimble animal. Mr. Lowell has pointed out that to place the Martians under the same condition as those in which we exist the average inhabitant must be considered to be three times as large and three times as heavy as the average human being; and the strength of the Mars folk must exceed ours to even a greater extent than the bulk and weight, for their muscles would be twenty-seven times more effective. When this fact is considered, and also the decreased weight of bodies on Mars, it appears that one Martian could do as much work as fifty or sixty men. A Martian coalman could carry two and a half tons with as little fatigue as our own merchant can shoulder one hundred-weight, and a Martian navvy digging a canal could easily throw over his shoulder a spade of earth so enormous that if a terrestrial excavator saw it he would consider there should be a limit to the amount of work to be done by a man in a day.

TELESCOPIC LIMITATIONS.

It must not for a moment be supposed that these statements as to the capability of doing work on Mars and on the earth are mere speculations, for they are physical facts deduced from accurate determinations of the size and mass of the planet. But unimpeachable as is the evidence of smaller gravitative force at the surface of Mars, and logical as may be the deductions therefrom, no mathematical calculations, nor the finest optical instruments at present known, nor the acutest reasoning, can afford the faintest information as to the forms of life upon the planet. There is as yet no possibility of seeing anything upon Mars less than thirty miles across, and even a city of this dimension would only be visible as a minute

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speck. Our telescopes are thus not powerful enough to reveal any details which would prove the existence of sentient beings. All that can be said is that Mars is like the earth in so many respects that if life can exist anywhere beyond the earth, it exists there. But when we think of the multitudinous forms of life the earth bears at this age, and looking backwards along the corridors of time, we regard the strange creatures which were prominent in past epochs, we realize how inexplicably varied is animated nature, and are forced to confess that life on Mars may differ as much from our knowledge of vitality as the simple structure of a The National Review.

jelly-fish differs from the complicated system of man.

We look at the bright orange-red disc of the planet as it glitters upon the vault of heaven, and we cherish the thought that it bears life of a higher form than the earth can boast. "Up there in that beautiful star, are angels," says the mother to her child. The thought is inspiring, but it is also gratifying to know that the earth appears as a lovely celestial object to Martian folk; it is their evening star, and if there are mothers on the planet, they probably point out our globe to their children as the place of rest and peace where the righteous find their reward. R. A. Gregory.

"Oh, yes, old Chalmers is here still," said M'Kechnie, in answer to a question of mine. "Not at the Mission, of course, but-"

"Why, of course?" I put in, hastily withdrawing my legs to admit of the passage of a small boy and a large bucket of water, on their way aft. The Explorer's deck space was limited, and, as O'Reilly had just opened the hatch to get out some stores, we had been obliged to remove our long chairs from that haven of refuge.

"Oh! I keep forgetting that you're new to the country," said M'Kechnie, not without a quizzical gleam in his eye. "You'll hear the whole story soon enough. Chalmers had got above himself, you know-bad attack of swelled head, following on a visit to Cape Town -and began setting the clergy right on doctrinal points. So there was nothing for it but to part."

"Is that the true version?" I asked, for there was an odd dryness in his enun

ciation which aroused my suspicions. I knew Mac of old-in fact, we had been at school together, many years before either of us ever thought of coming to Central Africa.

"I was not there when it happened," he replied, with dignity. "And you will please to remember that I am in the service of the Mission."

"Oh! all right," I muttered, hastily. "But what about Chalmers? Where is he now?"

"He works for Kalkbrenner-Ferreira, Kalkbrenner & Co., you know. Old Kalkbrenner gives him £50 a year and a house, and finds him well worth it; for, after all, he's an honest fellow, and capable in his way, though he is such a terribly pragmatical old ass. You'll see him when we get to Port Livingstone. Kalkbrenner has a store and a coffee plantation there, and Chalmers looks after them, and keeps the books, and pays the boys, and all." "How did he get that name?"

"Picked it up at one of the Missions, I suppose, and it sticks to him. He's been quite a traveller, has Dr. Chalmers. Went down to Kilwa, first of all, in a slave-gang, when he was a laddie of ten or twelve-he was called Tambala then-was put on board a dhow and taken off by a British mano'-war, and landed at Zanzibar. Then he came up country with Bishop Steere to try and find his own people again, and finally drifted to this neighborhood. He's seen a deal of life one way and another. When he was baptized he was called David and his full name on the Church Register is David Tambala Chalmers."

"Tambala means a cock, doesn't it?" I asked. I was making tentative plunges into the native language with the help of the Mission grammar and dictionary.

"Yes-suits him best of the three, I think. But you'll see for yourself. He's a caution."

I believe that, as we thus conversed, we were about six miles from Port Livingstone, as the crow flies. But unluckily, as some one has remarked, we were not crows; and the winding course of the river, the strength of its current (it was at this time in full flood), the state of the Explorer's engines, and the general cussedness of things delayed our arrival till sunset on the following day.

I saw before me a neat, whitewashed house, grass-thatched, surrounded by a broad veranda, and shaded by a group of fan-palms. Down the path which led from the front door came a tall native, dressed in a linen suit with a pith helmet on his head. "There he is," said M'Kechnie "I suppose he is coming on board."

It took some time to get the Explorer warped in to the bank, and while this was taking place I lost sight of the white figure in a crowd of shouting, hurrying natives; indeed, I was SO

much absorbed in the details of the scene-it was my first experience of the country that had interested me all my life that I forgot all about him for a while. Presently I became aware that the boy who had been attending on me during the voyage-himself a former pupil of the Mission-was standing beside me grinning from ear to ear.

"This is Dr. Chalmers, sir!" he said, with the air of one exhibiting a valuable and interesting product of the country, and waved his hand majestically towards the individual in question, who raised his helmet, and advanced with a sweeping bow.

"Mr. Hay, sir, I have much pleasure to make your acquaintance. I have heard of you from Mr. Vyner, sir. He tells me you come to assist him in developing the resources of this country. It is a fine country, sir-a mag-ni-fi-cent country; but we need appliances, the appliances of civilization."

I felt inclined to sit down and gasp feebly-quite overwhelmed by this torrent of eloquence-delivered quietly enough, and with a fairly good English accent. How much more I might have heard about the resources of the country and the appliances of civilization I cannot tell-M'Kechnie intervened.

"I say, Chalmers, can you put Mr. Hay up for the night? He won't be able to start for Masuku this evening." "Oh, yes-s!" said Dr. Chalmers, with dignity. "Mr. Vyner wrote to me that Mr. Hay was coming, and directed me to have an apartment in readiness. It was ready yesterday, Mr. M'Kechnie, and I have called Mr. Hay's carriers; they will start tomorrow at peep of day."

M'Kechnie attempted no reply-he was probably appalled at the splendor of Dr. Chalmers's diction; but he stole a sly wink at me.

At this juncture the Explorer's skipper walked up, red in the face from recent exertions, and mopping himself

with a handkerchief originally intended for the native trade, and conspicuously adorned with palm-trees and elephants. "Hey! here's the Reverend Doctor! How's yourself, me boy? and how's the missis?"

Dr. Chalmers drew himself up with dignity. "Circumstances have occurred to postpone my marriage," he said, freezingly; and his eye rested on M'Kechnie with an expression which seemed to say that, but for that gentleman's presence, he would have said

more.

O'Reilly slapped him on the back and laughed uproariously.

"Parson forbidden the banns, hey, Chalmers? Sure, and it's myself would be doing the same if I were he, an' you afther thryin' to inveigle me best dairymaid."

The native did not reply. It was easy to see that he did not enjoy O'Reilly's chaff, but he betrayed no annoyance, only turned to me and asked quietly if I would like to come ashore now. So far as I could judge, it was only his choice of words that was somewhat extravagant; there were no Christy Minstrel antics about him, and, in manner at least, I was inclined to think -with no disrespect to our tempestuous but good-natured friend-that he was more of a gentleman than O'Reilly. "What's this about his marriage?" I asked M'Kechnie, presently, Dr. Chalmers having gone ashore to get my luggage taken up to the house, while O'Reilly was superintending the hoisting of the same out of the hold.

"I don't quite know. I've been away down river for the last three months; I heard about it from O'Reilly, but, you know, a story with him never loses in the telling "

"What's that?" exclaimed the subject of this last remark, who was nearer us at the moment than M'Kechnie bargained for. "Me, the veracious chronicler of British Equatoria? Me,

that carries a note-book and a fountain pen in me pockets, an' it's downright ill I've been with sucking the ink of that same when it wouldn't draw, not to mintion the ink dryin' up wid the climate, to stand before the thermometer and note the exact timperature for fear I'd be forgettin' it when I wrote me diary at night!"

"We're all looking forward to the book you're going to write when you go home, O'Reilly," said M'Kechnie.

"And yet you'll not trust me to tell the story of the doctor there an' his colleen dhu?-for colleen bawn she is not, though as purty an' neat a crathur of her color as ever I've seen. Faith, I've had thoughts of asking her to be Mrs. O'Reilly meself; but then, you see, I'd be afther havin' to git a dispinsation, an' our clargy is terribly down on mixed mar'ges of late. Not to mintion that Mozambique is the nearest place it could be got."

"Never heed his clavers, Hay," said M'Kechnie. "The matter seems to be that Chalmers, who is a widower of some years' standing, and has two little girls under ten-I'm sorry for him myself, for he's anxious to do his duty and bring them up decently, and it's sore on a man, as you'll allow-wanted to marry one of the Christian girls at the Mission."

"Well, and why shouldn't he? Is there any just cause or impediment?" M'Kechnie seemed slightly embarrassed.

"They say the girl herself didn't want him. And, of course, Dr. Angus couldn't help that."

"That's the offeecial varsion, Mac, me bhoy," said O'Reilly, with exaggerated mimicry of M'Kechnie's accent, which, by-the-by, was broad enough to sit on, and he rather prided himself on it. "Dr. Angus didn't want to lose a useful crathur, and Mrs. A.'s pet pupil-an' them at all the trouble and expense of her trainin'-as they would do if she