the perpetual cheerfulness indulged by society entirely disengaged from business and care, and their various inventions to chase away languor, probably contribute no less to the health of the company than the peculiar virtues of the healing spring." Truth can commonly be found underlying superstition. The power, possessed by certain aspects of external nature to soothe the troubles of the mind, is one of the commonplaces of modern poetry. This thought, when rendered into folklore, becomes the idea that certain spots are "places of safety from supernatural visitants." Such was the belief connected with Our Lady's Well, at Threshfield, near Linton, in Craven, Yorkshire. Whoever took refuge there was free from the power of magical spells. When sailing among the sea-lochs of Lewis, MacCulloch had an experience which he thus describes in his "Western Islands":--"On one occasion the water was like a mirror, but black as jet, from its depth and from the shadow of the high cliffs which overhung it. The tide, flowing with the rapidity of a torrent, glided past without a ripple to indicate its movement, while the sail aloft was filled by a breeze that did not reach the surface. There was a death-like silence while the boat shot along under the dark rocks like an arrow; to a poetical imagination it might have appeared under a supernatural influence: like the bark of Dante, angel-borne." If such were the reflections of an educated man like MacCulloch, what must have been the thoughts of our ignorant forefathers when confronted by the ever-recurring marvels of the outer world! Nature is still misinterpreted by credulous people through a lack of knowledge of her laws. A good example of this, bearing, not, however, on water, but on tree-worship, is given by Dr. J. Fergusson, in his "Tree and Serpent Worship." A god was said to have appeared in a certain date-palm in a village a few miles from Tessore, and the tree was promptly adorned by the Brahmins with garlands and offerings. Dr. Fergusson observes:--"On my inquiring how the god manifested his presence, I was informed that, soon after the sun rose in the morning, the tree raised its head to welcome him, and bowed it down again when he departed. As this was a miracle easily tested, I returned at noon and found it was so. After a little study and investigation, the mystery did not seem difficult of explanation. The tree had originally grown across the principal pathway through the village, but at last hung so low that, in order to enable people to pass under it, it had been turned aside and fastened parallel to the road. In the operation the bundle of fibres which composed the root had become twisted like the strands of a rope. When the morning sun struck on the upper surface of them, they contracted in drying, and hence a tendency to untwist, which raised the head of the tree. With the evening dews they relaxed, and the head of the tree declined."