JESUS TURNING WATER INTO WINE.
FEW days before our Lord had been in the desert, amid the
wild beasts, with the devil tempting Him. Now He who
was to be in all things one with us was sitting at a

marriage feast among His friends; His mother and kinsfolk there, with His new followers; every face about Him glad and happy. It was not the first marriage He had been at, for his sisters, no doubt, were married, and living at Nazareth; and He knew what the mortification would be if the social mirth came too suddenly to an end. He cared for these little pleasures and innocent enjoyments, and would not have them spoiled. The miracle He refused to work to satisfy His own severe hunger He wrought for the innocent pleasure of the friends who were rejoicing around Him. There were six waterpots of stone standing by for the use of the guests in washing their hands before sitting down to the table; and He bade the servants first to fill them up again with water to the brim, and then to draw out, and bear to the ruler of the feast. Upon tasting it he cried out to the bridegroom, “Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine; but thou hast kept the good wine till now."

So Christ changes water into wine, tears into gladness, the waves and floods of sorrow into a crystal sea, whereon the harpers stand, having harps of God. But He can work this miracle only for His friends; none but those who loved Him drank of that wine. It was no grand miracle of giving sight to eyes born blind, or raising to life a widow's son. He had long known what poverty, and straitness, and household cares were, and He must show that these common troubles were not beneath His notice; no, nor the little secret pangs of anxiety and disappointment which we so often hide from those about us. We are not all called to bear extraordinary sorrows, but most of us know what trifling cares are, and it was one of these small household difficulties the Son of Man met by His first miracle. HESBA STRETTON.

ILLUSTRIOUS DUNCES.

By TOM BROWN, Author of " A Year at School," &c., &c.

No. VI.-THE DUNCE WHO BECAME A GREAT
COMMANDER.

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N the parish of Moreton Say, near Market Drayton, Shropshire, there is an estate called Styche, which for more than five hundred years belonged to the successive heirs of one family. The estate was but small, and though its undisturbed possession through so many generations enabled its possessor to rank among the gentry of the county, the other branches of the family were compelled to look for support to agriculture, trade, or the more aristocratic pursuits of law or medicine.

Hence it was that a little more than a hundred and fifty years ago, its owner having died without heirs, the inheritance passed to his brother, a gentleman who, not having anticipated such good fortune, was in practice as an attorney. The new owner of Styche did not, however, at once cut his connection with his profession and settle down as a country squire. The income he derived from the estate was only about £500 a year, and he did not deem that sufficient to induce him to retire from practice. He accordingly married, took up his abode at the ancestral manor-house, and continued to act as an attorney.

It was quite as well that the lawyer did not at once give up the exercise of his profession, for he was blessed with an unusually large family, consisting of six sons and seven daughters, and to rear and educate these in a way suitable to their position must have required all the combined income of his estate and his practice.

The eldest of these children, Robert, and of course the heir to the family property, was born in the old manor-house, September 25, 1725. For some reason or other he was sent before he was three years of age to live with an uncle named Bayley, who resided at Hope Hall, near Manchester. His uncle and aunt seem to have treated him with the greatest kindness, and through a dangerous illness, which attacked him directly after his arrival, they nursed him with great tenderness.

From his earliest infancy little Bob seems to have occasioned his relations a great deal of anxiety by the stubbornness of his will and the fury of his temper. His uncle's letters to his anxious parents in Shropshire relate that while ill he bore his sufferings with really wonderful calmness, but directly he began to get well he became proportionately cross and impatient.

By the time he was seven years old he had gained a very unenviable reputation for quarrelling and fighting. In one of his

letters his uncle says of him, " He has just had a new suit of clothes, and promises by his reformation to deserve them. I am satisfied that his fighting, to which he is out of measure addicted, gives to his temper a fierceness and imperiousness that he flies out upon every trifling occasion. For this reason I do what I can to suppress the hero, that I may help forward the more valuable qualities of meekness, benevolence, and patience."

It is not surprising that a lad so much given to fighting, and so regardless of authority, should be a dunce. As heir to the estate, his father was of course wishful that his eldest son should have the education of a gentleman. He also intended that he should follow his own profession, at any rate, until he came into possession. He accordingly sent him to one school after another, in the hope of at last finding a teacher who would be able in some measure to curb his son's wilfulness and drive into his obstinate head the rudiments of learning.

Our "dunce" was first sent to a school at Lostock, in Cheshire, but he left it before he was eleven years of age without having made anything out. Dr. Easton, the master, however, is said to have prophesied that "if his scholar lived to be a man, and opportunity for the exertion of his talents were afforded, he would win for himself a name second to few in history." On what the good doctor based his prophecy it is impossible for us now to learn, but up to that time the only name Bob seemed likely to make for himself was anything but a creditable one.

After leaving Lostock he came nearer home, and was placed under the tuition of the Rev. Mr. Burslem, at Market Drayton, and here he became even more notorious. If he had been stupid and unruly before, he now became a confirmed dunce and a hopeless reprobate. He seems not to have had the least fear of his reverend tutor nor indeed of anyone else.

He became the leader and companion of all the rough idle lads of the town. Not that he associated with them on terms of equality; he merely ruled them and engaged them to carry out his designs. With this set of young vagabonds at his back, the young rogue played such tricks on the peaceful inhabitants that he became quite a nuisance and a terror. Doors were rapped mysteriously at night, shutters forcibly opened, windows broken, waterbutts overturned, and all kinds of mischief done in order to give sport for this daring young scapegrace. The tradesmen of the town were in such dread of Robert and his marauders that they hardly dared expose their goods outside their shops; if they did the articles ran a great risk of being run away with or upset into the gutter.

It was of no use for the persecuted shopkeepers to threaten or attempt to punish their tormentors. Such proceedings only brought on them renewed and increased annoyance. One instance is related which also illustrates the lad's promptness of action. One of the shopkeepers having given Robert and his crew some special offence,

they decided to punish him by turning into his shop all the dirty water which was streaming down the town gutter. They accordingly got a quantity of turf, and, unobserved by the tradesman, made a dam opposite his house. Down came the filthy stream, and the flood made by the turf rose higher and higher up the kerbstone, until just as the stream was nearly high enough to overflow into the obnoxious tradesman's shop, the weight of the water proved too great for the dam, and the turf seemed likely to give way. This was more than Robert could bear. He could not stand calmly by and see all their labour thrown away. So he shouted hasty orders to his ragged followers to fetch more turf, and then deliberately laid down in the gutter, planting his back firmly against the threatened dam, and thus keeping it intact until more turf was brought. He then got up, and, utterly regardless of the filthy state of his dress, heartily enjoyed the mischief he had caused.

There were of course no policemen in those days, and the watchmen and constables in most country towns were men too old and feeble for other occupation. It was therefore of little use for the tradesmen of Market Drayton to appeal to the guardians of the peace for protection from their persecutors. Doubtless the constables had fallen in for their full share of annoyance, for it is likely enough Bob and his fellows were quite aware of the then popular prank of upsetting the watchbox with its tenant inside. And so, since force or authority could not be brought to bear on these lawless youngsters, diplomacy was tried, and many of the shopkeepers purchased freedom from annoyance by paying tribute of apples or halfpence to the young marauders.

The parish church of Market Drayton is an ancient Gothic structure built on the edge of a hill. A few feet from the top of the steeple there is-or was in our hero's day-a stone spout in the shape of a dragon's head. Well, one day there was a tremendous excitement down the main street, scores of people were out at their front doors, while all who could leave their houses were hurrying off towards the church. A report had spread that there was a lad on the top of the church steeple, and as the marvel increased in travelling, by the time the news reached the far end of the town, it was half believed that the lad was standing on his head on the point of the vane. There was little need to ask who it was. There was only one lad in Market Drayton likely to attempt such a hair-brained adventure; "Daring Bob," was the answer to every query, and "I thought as much,” was the invariable comment of the inquirer.

Yes, there he was sure enough. He had ascended inside the tower to the top, and had then let himself down over the parapet on to the dragon's head, and there he sat astride the spout, apparently well satisfied to have created such a commotion. What a hubbub there was in the churchyard! There were timid women shading their eyes with their hands as they looked up now and again at the young rascal, while they indulged at intervals in minute and