on mule-back to see the ruins of the Coloapalan temple, the falls of the Rio Ondo and the Great Stone Idol of Coloapas-and get back to their car in time to be attached to the evening train and whirled southward to the sight of new wonders. At first, as they trooped by him, Malveson watched them with entire indifference; then he started suddenly to his feet, staring with wide eyes. He dropped quickly back into the shadow, pulling his hat down over his face; but there was no need, for the woman who had roused him was looking neither to right nor left, but clinging wearily to the arm of her husband and complaining ceaselessly of the heat, the dust, and the noisomely importunate beggars.

Malveson waited until the group had turned a corner, and then hurried by a side street to his room, where he shaved and clothed himself in such civilized garb as he could find. He stole out of the house to the plaza, and waited there until he saw the band of sight-seers come down the steps of the Palacio and proceed up the Avenida to the cathedral. At a safe distance he followed, and entering the ancient building by a little door in the massive gate, took up a position by a great granite pillar opposite the shrine of Santa Ines, whence he could watch the visitors as they were shown about.

The noisy scrape of their footsteps, the raucously uplifted voice of the guide, an the hum of their comment echoed stridently down the great dim aisle, and seemed to Malveson the great profanation that it was. For even Dicky Cahill, who referred to his Creator as an uncommonly secretive chap," would doff his hat when he passed by that edifice-built over three hundred years before on the old Coloapalan hill of sacrifice, by the ten-years' labor of the missionary priests and their native converts. It had been twice stained deeply with the blood of massacre; its sombre chapel had been the last refuge of beaten patriots, and the little crypt beneath the main altar, the hiding place of a hunted leader of revolution; the stones of the floor were worn deep by the feet of reverent multitudes in curious pathways between door and shrine and altar. The presence of the Woman in that vulgar company of idle

curiosity seekers, seemed to Malveson a strange thing, also, but he must see her face, and he waited anxiously while the visitors made the circuit of the curiously adorned walls. They had turned from their inspection of the great south altar, and were coming toward him along the east aisle, when the door opened and a native girl sole in, carrying a mimosa in an earthenware pot. Awe-stricken by the grandeur of the place, she crept timidly to the shrine of Santa Ines, and kneeling, placed the sensitive plant before her. Then, with a pitiful confusion of pagan and Christian ceremony, she

touched the leaves one by one, the while making her supplication to Santa Ines that even as the tender leaves of the mimosa closed at her touch, so she might be given strength to close her heart to the importunities of her lover.

The tourists came at last to the image of Santa Ines, and the girl on her knees before it shrank frightened into the shadow. The guide finished his long harrangue, and held open the door that his flock might pass out; and there, standing in the bar of daylight, Malverson saw the woman clearly, and there it was that the veil of illusion dropped away. She was handsomely gowned, and had not grown old or unlovely, but as she stood looking back with a smile of half-contemptuous curiosity at the girl by the shrine, there came to pass what her illtreatment of him had failed to accomplish. The eyes which had seemed to him wells of great light had grown bleak and meaningless; the lips whose whose kiss would have once been worth the balance of the world, were become barren of any allurement; all in a moment she had become less to him than that poor Indian girl, who could pray before her shrine.

She turned to follow her chattering companions, and Malveson, careless of further concealment, strode out past her and down the crooked street to his room. There he stood for a moment in front of the mirror, and surveyed himself; he had still long years ahead of him. He dragged out a trunk and began to collect his belongings from about the room. When he came to the niche in the wall, he took down the picture, and without glancing at it, tore it into a number of small pieces and dropped them out of

shoulder peered a spectre grim-above the strains thy golden harps didst sweetly play, I heard a moan. Beside the paths that led from out thy bowers I beheld the skulls of those who served thee all their lives; no headstones marked their resting beds, and all among the flaunting weeds they lay, by sons of men forgot. Some dost thou blind, but with clear eyes I saw afar, and underneath the stars the great Soul guided me. I take my leave of thee and thou mayst go thy ways, whilst I must answer to the Soul, and to its fair white altars bring the offering of an unseared heart.

"I

T is only an incident in the day's work, and does not change the development of the institution in the slightest degree." This is the latest word from Dr. Jordan concerning the effect of the earthquake upon the University of which he is the head. It is characteristic of the man-optimistic, intense, determined, abounding in the spirit of the Argonaut who made the school possible in the first place. This is a good omen for the University.

Two elements have entered into the making of Leland Stanford Junior University the benevolent Governor; and Dr. Jordan and his faculty.

The story of the founding begins in 1868 with the birth of Leland Stanford, Jr. Before that date Governor Stanford's attention had been chiefly turned towards politics, financial problems, and the building of transcontinental railways; but with the advent of the child his interests took a strongly human turn. This new activity revealed itself in the problem of educating Leland, Jr. The kindergarten nature-stories told by the teacher, Miss Mary Frazer McDonald (now Mrs. David McRoberts) to her children, among them the boy, filtered as a matter of course into the Stanford home and first set the Governor to thinking along scientific and educational lines. This intellectual impetus and the strong friendships with Louis Agassiz, the scientist, and Andrew D. White, president of Cornell University, are to be counted among important factors forming Governor Stanford's school theories.

The two men, Agassiz and White, contributed fundamentally to the formation of Stanford's educational ideals. From Agassiz he conceived that the possibilities in growth of scientific knowledge are limitless, and that man's intellectual hunger to be satisfied by this knowledge is also boundless. Hence he thought out as a practical scheme for education a school based upon the pursuit of science, -one that should lead students straight to the heart of kindly western nature.

The Governor's own ideas of freedom and democracy led him also to enunciate basic principles of individuality and unlimited choice for students to use in the pursuance of their courses. "The winds of freedom are blowing" was his favorite motto.

The services of the best teachers in Europe and America were sought by the parents in the education of their son Leland. In addition to this instruction he was given every advantage of travel and sightseeing. Andrew D. White speaks of having met and conversed with him in Italy where the youngster was sojourning. This was in 1882, two years before the boy's death. He is spoken of by Dr. White as "one of the brightest, noblest, and most promising youths." Leland was exceptionally serious-minded, and ambitious to become a successful student. One bent in his nature was toward science. In one corner of the shattered Museum at the University is a small cabinet containing a number of natural objects collected by him. collection is a mute evidence of thoughts. early nurtured in his mind. His mother said that it was one of his childish ambitions to found a school which might be especially for the training of California. boys and girls. It is a pleasing fact that it was the sentiment of a boy that gave California her scientific university. When the parents were plunged into grief by his death it was but natural they should think of building a school. "Henceforth," said the Senator, "the children of California shall be our children." And again he says: "A generous education should be the birthright of every man and woman in America"words now printed upon every official publication of the University.

This

Leland Stanford went at the work of. building the school with the earnestness and frankness which characterized his

every effort. He visited the great colleges of Europe and America, and consulted with the best minds of the age in securing plans. Dr. White gives