from the Irish National Schools, of the ARCHBISHOP OF
DUBLIN'S _Evidences of Christianity_. Hence it may be presumed that the
"_Evidences_" of ARCHBISHOP WHATELY are favourable specimens of
WHATELY'S logic, and afford some really sensible and satisfactory reason
for believing in the Christian religion.

* * * * *

OUR HONEYMOON.

FRIDAY, MAY 24, 18--.

I am not superstitious--certainly not: but when I woke this morning, I
felt as if something would happen; though I said nothing to FRED. With
the feeling that came upon me, I wouldn't have thought of going to
France for worlds. I felt as if a war must break out, or something.

"I knew it; I was certain of it," said I, when I'd half read the letter
from home.

"In that case," said FRED, in the most unconcerned way, which he _will_
call philosophy, whereas I think it downright imprudence--but I fear
dear Mamma's right; all men are imprudent--"In that case, we might have
saved postage."

"Now FRED, don't be frivolous. But I see, there'll be nothing right at
home till we get fairly back. Everything will be sacrificed."--

"Is that your serious belief, my love?" said FRED, finishing his tea;
and I nodded very decidedly.--"Well, then, suppose we pack up our traps
and return to-day. And talking of home, you can't think, LOTTY, what a
present you've made me without knowing it."

"Have I indeed? What present, love?"--

"It was in my sleep; but then, it was one of those dreams that always
forerun the reality. Do you know I dreamt that we'd returned home, and
somehow when I tried to sit down in my chair, up I jumped again; and so
again and again. Whenever I tried to be quiet and stretch my legs out at
my fireside, I seemed possessed with a legion of imps that would lift me
from my seat and pull me towards the door."--

"Hm! That's a very ugly dream, FRED," said I; and I know I looked
thoughtful.

"Very: but it's wonderful how, like a tranquillizing spirit, you
appeared upon the scene. I thought, my dear, you looked more beautiful
than is possible."--

"FREDERICK!"--

"Not but what I'm quite content as it is. You know, my love, it might
have been worse."--

"Well," said I, "Mamma needn't have written to me that my honeymoon was
nearly ended. It seems I'm not likely to forget _that_."

"And when it was impossible for me to remain in the chair--when I
continued to get up and sit down, and run here and run there--then, as
I say, you