nd these intervals should be less as the dip increases.

Suppose the observer to have reached a point where the dip is found to
be 89 deg. 30', and at the next station he has 89 deg. 35', at the next
89 deg. 40'. At the next he may find only 89 deg. 37'; he then returns to
where he found the greatest dip and starts off at right angles, one
way or the other, to that course. As long as the dip continues to
increase, he knows he is travelling in the right direction. When it
again decreases he returns to the point of his last greatest dip and
travels at right angles to his last course as long as the dip
increases. In this way he will eventually see the absolute verticity
of the suspended needle marked and know he has reached the North
Magnetic Pole at last. Sir James Ross did not succeed so well, the
needle marking only 89 deg. 59' of verticity. But as this would indicate
that he was within one and a quarter to two miles of the point sought,
he was justified in feeling elated at his success.

It is believed, however, that with the improved instruments of the
present day, and in the light of our increased knowledge of
terrestrial magnetism, absolute accuracy is now demanded. These
observations will have to be repeated from time to time until at last
we shall know with certainty whether or not the North Magnetic Pole is
a fixed or movable point, and if it is found to move, the direction
and rate of that motion shall be positively determined.

THE MERCHANTMEN.

BY RUDYARD KIPLING.

King Solomon drew merchantmen
Because of his desire
For peacocks, apes, and ivory
From Tarshish unto Tyre:
And Drake he sacked La Guayra,
So stout of heart was he;
But we be only sailormen
That use upon the sea.

_Coastwise--cross-seas--round the world and back again,
Where the flaw shall head us or the full trade suits!
Plain-sail--storm-sail--lay your board and tack again--
And that's the way we pay Paddy Doyle for his boots!_

Now we have come to youward
To walk beneath the trees,
And see the folk that live on land
And ride in carriages.
Oh, sure they must be silly gulls
That do with pains desire
To build a house that cannot move
Of stones and sticks and mire.

We bring no store of ingots,
Of gold or precious stones,
But that we have we gathered
With sweat and aching bones:
In flame beneath the tropics,
In frost upon the floe,
And jeopardy