12 NOVEMBER 1904, Page 15

SIR,—It is possible that we may sometimes read strange meanings

into that curious human document,—the modern schoolboy. Even the practised eye of a schoolmaster of many years' experience—an eye trained (possibly) in that school of negative human criticism once called "the old Adam "—may fail to discern the original text, written faint between the lines. Inability to answer the questions in a " divinity paper "—the modern equivalent for the old- fashioned "Bible lesson"—need not imply gross ignorance either• of the matter or spirit of the Bible. (There was a Senior Wrangler not so long ago who was notorious for his inability to do ordinary addition and subtraction sums correctly.) Inarticulateness is not dumbness ; nor does

of enthusiasm or a spiritual apprehension quickened— it may be—by careful religious instruction at home.

A well-known spiritual director, of much experience among young men and boys, gave this advice recently to an assembly of mothers : "Don't be afraid to talk to your sons on religious matters; but be sure you don't expect an answer from them." A few years ago these lines—quick with "the sympathy of a perfect comprehension "—appeared in the

Spectator, from the pen of Canon Beeching " To TIME, NOT TO HURRY WITH THE BOYS.

Let them be a little space, Though they lack our crowning grace; Though their talk be not about Things we talk of, dining out; Though their jokes are hard to see : Let them be.

Could we once have been as they ?

Fat and rosy, fresh and gay, With such reverence for the fact, With such perfect want of tact, Yes? Well, all the same, prithee, Let them be."

Even so—the time is not yet. Let them be.—I am, Sir, &c., AN OLD-FASHIONED MOTHER.

THE COTTON INDUSTRY.