from the position of both eyes in relation to one another, the real thing inferred being the particular mode of movement which my hand would have to make if setting out from the median plane of my body, or which my body itself would have to make, in order to come into contact with the given object. an inference supplied by associations with perception of the eye, but an inference our motor and tactual experiences. Helmholtz describes an experiment by which the acquired character of this perception is strikingly shown. If one takes two prisms and places them in the framework of a pair of spectacles, with their angles of refraction both turned left, the optical effect of these glasses is to make all objects appear to be shifted to the left of their actual situation. If one, then, seeks to fix the exact direction of a particular object, and having closed the eyes, tries to reach it with his hand, he will find himself feeling too much to the left. But when these trials have been repeated frequently enough, he will gradually learn to hit the required object. If, when this stage is reached, he removes the spectacles and tries as before, with closed eyes, to reach an object, his hand will wander too much to the right. Further, if, when the right hand has learnt to reach an object first looked at through the glasses, the left hand be tried, the eyes being again closed, the observer will find himself able to reach the object just as easily and certainly as with the right. This appears to prove conclusively that it is the eye and not the hand which has altered its appreciation of direction. The newly instructed eye has come to see the object left of its previous direction in exactly the same sense in which it used to see it in this direction, the quasi intuition being in both cases an inference as to motor and other experiences lying outside the limits of visual impression. Finally, there is the more intricate question as to whether the eye at rest has any immediate knowledge of lateral extension together with form and magnitude. On a first view of the matter it seems self-evident that the retina being itself extended, any impression on its nervous element, will contain immediate information of these special properties. Yet all the facts go to show that the eye's perception of extension is as much derived as its knowledge of distance. All that is required in order to explain the phenomena of optics is to attribute a qualitative difference of sensation of some kind or another to the different nervous fibres of the retina, by which an impression on a particular element will somehow appear unlike those on other elements, the distinguishing quality of each fibre being something constant, so that any new impression on the same element will at once be recognized as like previous ones in this respect. What this difference of local sign (Localzeichen) really is we cannot in the nature of the case discover, since ex hypothesi it has long ago been buried under associations derived from our other organs. Yet that it exists and is of Another fact which throws much light on a very precise nature must be assumed in the derivative or acquired nature of our order to account for the nice discriminaperception of direction has been established tions and recognitions of the tutored eye. by Hering. If, after both eyes have looked For instance, it is proved that the comparat a very distant object, so that the axes ison by the eye of linear magnitude is were parallel, the right eye be closed, and only exact when the lines are so situated the other then accommodated for a nearer that the eye, moving according to the point in its previous line of vision, this laws of rotation already referred to, is new object will not appear in the same di- able to superpose, so to speak, the image rection, but shifted to the left. Yet the of the second line on exactly the same seopen eye remains fixed in the same direc-ries of retinal elements as that occupied tion, and only the closed eye has moved to a state of convergence. It follows from this, that the position of the closed eye helps to determine an eye's sense of direction. Hering and Helmholtz both represent this fact by the supposition of an imaginary eye midway between the two eyes. Each of our real eyes sees objects in the direction of the axis of such a cyclopean eye. This estimation of the direction of all nearer objects from a point midway be- We are unable to cite all the optical tween the two eyes accords, as Helmholtz facts which support the derivative theory says, with the supposition otherwise of visible extension. Professor Helmholtz proved, that direction is not an intuitive has done eminent service in bringing them by the first. In other words, the feeling of duration of muscular movement is much less exact than that of the coincidence or non-coincidence of nerve-fibres affected. The exquisite microscopic fineness of the optic fibres gives to the eye its distinguishing clearness and accuracy of space perception, although in every case these perceptions refer to extra-visual, or, at least, extra-retinal, modes of sensibility. into their right prominence and showing of the intuitive faculty? A single intheir bearings on the rival theories.* Per- stance of error is sufficient to destroy the haps the most conclusive refutation of the venerable and amiable notion of an infalinnate or intuitive theory is to be found lible consciousness, and if the phenomena in the phenomena of single and double of external perception continue to be revision. An exact study of the range and ferred to this department of keowledge, limits of single vision, such as are set we shall scarcely envy its possessors the forth by Helmholtz, shows the enormous mental comfort which is said to flow from difficulties belonging to all theories of a perfect reliance on the veracity of conidentical points in the two retinæ having, sciousness. ab initio, one and the same feeling of extension. Indeed, this supposition is directly contradicted, according to Helmholtz, by some of the newest discoveries in stereoscopic vision. On the other hand, these same phenomena receive an easy and satisfactory explanation from the empirical or derivative hypothesis. The precise situation of the corresponding points of the two retina, the margin within which an impression will coalesce with that of a given point in the other retina, the phenomena and limitations of relief, all these things are fully accounted for on this theory; and should any of our readers be still in doubt on the point, we can only refer him to the exhaustive treatment of the subject by Professor Helmholtz.t How the intuitionalist proposes to deal with the host of well-established illusions of the senses we are at a loss to understand. Yet this is certainly his most urgent business. On the supposition that immediate sensation is an infinitesimal quantity, and that a large proportion of what seems to us immediate and intuitive is the product of past experience, it is no mystery that our senses should deceive us. All that is required is to arrange a set of external conditions by means of which the modicum of immediate sensation may be produced, apart from those adjuncts which customarily attend it and have become so inseparably asscociated with it. This device is effected by a large part of those experiments which physiologists have recently instituted. On the other hand, if we are to accept the old theory of an intuitive knowledge of space relations, what is the meaning of all these signal failures Physiologische Optik." Dritter Abschnitt, § 33. Kritik der Theorien. It strikes us as a pity that Mr. Monck did not take the trouble, before writing his ingenious but very hasty essay on Space and Vision," to look at Helmholtz's masterly work. He could hardly fail, by so doing to see the meagreness of his few plausible arguments for the eye's intuition of its own retinal space, beside the long array of facts there drawn up against such an hypothesis. This negligence appears all the more singular as Mr. Monck so often expresses his wish to test his theory by the more intricate optical phenomena. In conclusion, it may not be amiss to remind the reader that no number of such experiments as those here described can at all affect the question of an independent external world. Physiologists who experiment with an individual's sensations by means of external stimuli necessarily assume the antithesis of the external and internal, which, indeed, nobody questions; and it is not their province to inquire into its final significance, but simply to determine the various aspects of their co-existence and to formulate its laws. Thus, when it is said, for example, by Helmholtz that our sensations are signs which for the most part we disregard, except so far as they indicate objective facts, this statement by no means necessitates a belief in something independent of mind; for, on the Idealist's theory, no less than on the Absolutist's, our single, individual impressions are unimportant as compared with the permanent assurance of impressions to all minds, and a large part of passive sensation is of little account, except as suggesting modes of voluntary action by means of which some evil may be arrested, or the store of our daily happiness increased. From Macmillan's Magazine. CHRISTINA NORTH. BY E. M. ARCHER. CHAPTER XXII. THE days that followed passed, as such days will pass, outwardly very like those which had preceded the downfall of Christina's hopes and the wreck of her happiness. She had never again referred to the letter she had received, and her mother dared not speak of it to her. Mr. North had been told, of course; and although he had been bitter in his resentment at the moment, it seemed as if increasing weakness had diminished his powers of memory, and after the first day it often seemed to Mrs. North as if it had passed away altogether from his mind. As to Christina, she was pale and silent, but she moved about the house as usual: she waited upon her grandfather and cared for his comfort; she took her share in the night nursing and would never own that she was tired; she met Mrs. Oswestry without embarrassment; and she was kind and friendly in her manner to Mr. Warde when he came to see her grandfather: she was not exactly repellant or ungracious, but yet, for some reason or other, they none of them dared to speak to her of what had occurred. She had made no answer to Walter Cleasby's letter. What could she say? She told herself that that page of her life had been closed for ever, and she would not speak of it again. She bore herself bravely, and those about her could only guess at what was passing within her. Walter hung about the place in the hope that he might meet some one of whom he might venture to ask what was passing at the White House. At first he had a faint hope that he might receive some word in answer to his letter: he had even thought that it was possible she might consent to see him; but three days passed and he heard nothing. He knew that he had brought it upon himself; even now he did not wish it undone, but the suspense was hard to bear. He tortured himself by conjuring up twenty different solutions of her silence: and then again sometimes he thought it was pride and resentment which prevented her from making any sign, and he tried to be thankful that it should be so. It would make it easier for her if her indignation should master all else. Mrs. North had written very briefly and coldly, simply acknowledging his letter, and intimating that under the altered circumstances no doubt he had done wisely in breaking his engagement; but she made no mention of Christina. Miss Cleasby had called at the White House to inquire for Mr. North; but she had only seen Janet, who answered her shortly, and from whom she was too proud to ask more than the doctor's opinion. So the days passed wretchedly at the Park, and Walter harassed by business matters and growing desperate in his anxiety to hear of Christina, could no longer keep up any pretence of indifference, but made his sister uneasy by his restless manner and altered looks. She was driving through the village on the fourth day in her pony carriage, thinking of it all and with a cloud of anxiety on her usually serene face, when it suddenly cleared and was replaced by a flush of eagerness, as she caught sight of Mr. Warde coming out of a cottage, and trotted the pony up to him. 66 "Can you spare me a few minutes ?" she said almort breathless in her impetuosity. Oh, Mr. Warde, you are my good angel! you will be able to tell me what I want to know." "I am sure I shall be very happy if I can be of any use," he said, pleased and surprised at the appeal, but in truth feeling as if his position as Miss Cleasby's good angel was, however delightful, slightly embarrassing. "I suppose you have heard of our misfortune?" said Augusta, leaning forward and allowing the pony to proceed at a foot's pace whilst Mr. Warde walked beside the carriage. 66 "Yes; I was very sorry to hear of it," he said, looking at her with grave interest. "We do not want to publish it at present," Augusta went on, because, you see, it is so disagreeable to have everyone talking about you; and when we are gone "Then you are going?" he said, with something of regret in his voice. "Of course we are going, but that is not what I wanted to talk about. Mr. Warde, you go to the White House, I know; you will forgive me if I am doing wrong, but you cannot think what a relief it would be to know something about about them," said Augusta, hesitating to pronounce Christina's name. Christina has spoken to no one," he said, understanding what it was that she wished to know and replying with the straightforwardness natural to him. "Her mother tells me that since that first evening when she forced her to it, she has not opened her lips upon the subject. No doubt it would be better for her if she could be open; but I do not see who has a right to break through the reserve she chooses to maintain. She looks very pale, but she goes about the house as usual." There was a controlled displeasure in his manner. Augusta felt that he was blaming Walter and could not refrain from taking up his defence. "Walter could not have done otherwise," she said. "I feel, Mr. Warde, that you are blaming him. He has suffered also, but it has not been his fault." "I have pronounced no judgment upon him," said the Vicar. "It is not for me to judge; but I have been very sorry for Christina, and very sorry for you all." "But the part which touches her is the worst," said Augusta. "It is sad for my 66 "I think a little wholesome admonition would do me good," she said. You see, Mr. Warde, I cannot trouble Walter; and he is younger, and so I have no one to go to when I want a little advice. I might ask Lady Bassett, but then she would never keep our counsel; and, besides, I know exactly what she would say beforehand. Do you think you could imagine yourself a Ritualist just for a quarter of an hour, Mr. Warde, and think that I am a High Church young lady come to you for ghostly counsel ? 66 Those preliminaries are not necessary," he said, recovering himself. It is so difficult for me to judge," he said; "I wish I could help you, but I know so little about these things. Of course I was not serious about the sisterhood. It must be very hard for you, to leave your brother and this place." 66 "Yes; rather hard!" she said; and he saw to his surprise that her eyes were wet with tears. She had been striving to keep up Walter's spirits for the last three days: she had been taking last looks at her familiar haunts and endeavouring to reconcile herself to the change, and her naturally strong nerves had been so far tried as to make them susceptible to what at another time would have made little impression upon them. "I wish I could do anything," he repeated in his perplexity. He said it with such grave anxiety that Augusta could not help laughing, even whilst for some reason she felt provoked. "I don't know why I care so much," she said; "it is very ridiculous. We won't talk about it any more. Thank you for letting me burthen you with all my troubles. I have taken up a great bit of of your time; but you know I said I should look upon you as a friend if I ever was in any trouble, and you see it came before we expected it after all, and took me a little by surprise." "We will leave them out then," she said; "and indeed it is upon very worldly affairs that I want to consult you. I suppose you know that we have lost, not only some money, but everything; it does not matter how, only it has not been Walter's She said it softly, and turned her fine fault; and now he wants me to go and face towards him and held out her hand. live with our Uncle Robert, who is a bank- "It is for me to thank you," he said. er in London. He is kind enough; it is "No, no," she answered, colouring as kind of him to ask me, and I cannot bear she spoke; “but I hope you will let me to vex Walter by refusing; but I certain- know if you do chance to hear of any faly do dislike it most particularly. I can-vourable opening for me. Good-bye, and not bear to be always dependent. He is my uncle; but it is not as if I knew him well, and I know he will be as much bored as I shall be. Now what do young ladies do when they have no means, or next to none, and want to support themselves in a way that will not hurt their relations' susceptibilities?" "If I had adopted the character which you assigned to me," said the Vicar, "I should answer at once: enter a sisterhood." "I should not mind it so very much," said Augusta, after a pause, "if I might take Don with me." Mr. Warde was growing perplexed; he would have thought that she was laughing thank you." She shook the reins and the little pony carriage was soon out of sight in the winding road. She felt a little dreary and desolate. The only friend she had at hand had been unable to give her any assistance, and she felt now that it had been unreasonable and foolish of her to ask it of him: and then something in the tone of his parting words had made her uncomfortable. She wished that she had not spoken. She went straight into the drawingroom when she reached home, thinking to find her brother and give him the small piece of comfort she had been able to extract from Mr. Warde: at least Christina was not ill, but able to occupy herself as usual, and this would be something of a consolation to Walter: but he was not at home, and she had only time to write a hasty note to be sent after him in case he should be detained long in Overton, when the door-bell rang, and she prepared to receive some unconscious visitor with outward composure. Then came the sound of steps across the stone hall which she seemed to recognize, and Lewis opened the door and announced Mr. Warde. She had risen at his entrance, and now stood still before him in her amazement. "After I had parted from you," he began almost before the door was shut, "I thought of another alternative. You said that I might come if I thought of anything, and you have only to say, No. Miss Cleasby, is it possible that you would let me take you to my home?" She liked, and respected, and honoured and trusted him; and yet she did not know what to say. She sank down in a chair, and could as yet hardly open her mind to any other feeling than that of blank surprise. "I never thought of it before," he said; "I knew that you were different from other women; but there was a barrier, and when it was partly knocked down it still seemed impossible at first. If it seems so to you now, as I feel it must, you have only to say, No." "But I find it almost as difficult to say No as to say Yes," she said at last, almost speaking to herself. "Then do not say anything at all. It is an important decision. I can wait." "But, Mr. Warde, it will not be any easier by and by, and perhaps you might help me a little. It is not only myself that I am thinking about. I am not sure that I care for you; but I am not at all sure that you care for me." He paused a moment before he answered, and she sat still and expec:ant, with her eyes fixed upon his face. He did not shun them. if it is not to be, I can live without it; only do not deceive yourself by thinking that I do not care.” She did not, she could not deceive herself now; she understood that the man was throwing all the force of his strong nature into the effort to maintain a self-control which should neither disturb nor hurry her decision; and she too could be generous: "I may be deceiving myself, but I almost think that I do too," she said, in a low voice, casting down her eyes. 66 Then, self-controlled and humble though he was, he knew that he had won. Thank Heaven," he said, and a sudden flush of triumph lighted up his face. "That is rather premature," said Augusta, just glancing at him from under her eyelids. "You see, Mr. Warde, as you said just now, this is an important decision: I don't know whether we should either of us act in this way if we were quite in our right minds. You say that you were inspired, and I think I must wait until I am inspired too." He had been very forbearing; he had warned her that she had better take time to consider, and she had rejected his warning; he felt that she had gone too far with him to go back, and that she would never know her own mind better than she knew it now. "There is no need to wait," he said impetuously; "it is an important decision, but I believe that if you wish to give me your answer, you can do so now. If you tell me that you want time to consider, I will wait; but if you can say Yes, or No, it will be kinder to say it at once." "Even if it is No." "Yes, even if it is No, it is better that it should be said at once." There was a pause, and then she rose up suddenly and held out her hand to him. "I cannot say No," she said, colouring and smiling; "so if you are in such a hurry 66 You need say nothing more," he an"I do care for you," he said, in his swered, and his voice touched her by its manly voice, from which the momentous-expression of earnest and supreme conness of the occasion had taken away all tentment. shadow of embarrassment. "I knew be- "It is very good of you to care so much. fore that there was no one else like you; I do care for you," she said gravely. but I did not understand it at first; after And at this point Lewis suddenly inter you left me, it came upon me quite sud-rupted the interview, coming in with a litdenly, like an inspiration." tle pink note from Lady Bassett. Augusta "That is very curious," she said, with a came down to the realities of common life soft little laugh. as she read it. "I do not know that it is curious. But I can understand that the thing seems impossible to you. If it could have been, it would have been a great happiness to me; "DEAR AUGUSTA," the note said, "I am so very sorry. I wonder if it is really true that you have lost everything. I could not be happy |