is not like you-it is not you, in fact; you are beside yourself. There is a glitter in your eyes -a wildness in your speech. He has noticed it; he has noticed me. There is no deceiving him. Already he suspects-"

"So much the better. Make his suspicion a certainty. Florence, have you decided?" "I have."

"And-" my life hung on her words. "Frederick, we must part!"

I see her now, as she stood before me in all her loveliness, her pride, her sorrow, and her strength.

"Are you determined ?" "It must be so."

"Then I shall no longer importune you."

"I love you!" and I am the last of my name;
and my sister's sons will live here when the
"old man" is gone, and jestingly rejoice that
he never loved and never married.
Vale!

THE TRIAL AND EXECUTION OF
JOHN HUSS.

THE

enters a vast chamber, where the Council of Constance was once assembled, and which has been rendered ever memorable by the trial of John Huss and the thrilling eloquence of Jer

HE traveler who visits to-day the old, halfdecayed city of Constance, will meet, not far from the place where he lands on the shores of the lake, a huge, warehouse-looking building, a careful inspection of which will reward his curiosity. More than four hundred years ago it presented scenes toward which the eyes of all Christendom were directed with varied She placed her hand lightly on my arm. but intense interest. Mounting the stairs lead"We must not part in anger. Later, you willing to the second story of this immense strucunderstand -me; you will know and feel how ture-the old Kauf-haus, or Market-the visitor sorely I am pressed, how sadly tried. There are duties, obligations, memories, which must be obeyed. Turn where I will, I am hunted, pursued, baffled, beset by my own weakness and the power of others. Don't mistake my mean-ome of Prague. The ceiling is very low, suping. A whisper, a hint of what has passed between us would be sufficient to break my present betrothal, and I would be miserable. So wayward, so uncertain I am so divided between two strong feelings-so utterly perplex-house loft, only that yonder, partitioned off ed, that this calm heaven never looked down upon a more troubled and distracted spirit. Forget me. I have been but a moment's interest to a man, young, free, with the world before him, and with many a heart ready to exchange itself for his own. I am older than my years, saddened, wearied, disappointed. Do not desire to link your fresh life with mine. Twice I have loved; twice I have learned the bitterness of loving. Is it in myself? is it my fate? I shall never keep a heart. As a past dream you will care for me, and talk of me, perhaps, to your children. But to-night we part. I beseech you to leave Ashton to-mor

She pressed my hand with convulsive energy; her burning lips touched my brow, and I have never seen Florence Raymond since that hour.

My story is told. Whatever blanks of importance, whatever necessary details I have omitted, my reader will kindly supply. I am no author; and I have been often diffuse, and again too succinct.

Does there remain any thing to add? She married, she lived, she died. Was she happy? I know not. Could I have made her happier? Sometimes I think so. I have flirted with many a girl since that spring-time at Ashton Hall. I have seen many handsome women, and fair hands have furtively slid into mine; and scarlet lips have met my own, and bright eyes have smiled and wept, they said, for my sake. But to no other ear have I whispered VOL. XVII.-No. 101.-S8

ported by heavy wooden pillars, and the rough planks of the floor give evidence of the ruder age in which they were first laid. The visitor might fancy himself in some neglected ware

from the vast space, is a small room filled with some very curious and touching mementos of the Great Council. There are the wax figures of Huss and Jerome, the first bearing the following record: "John Huss, of Hussinetz, in Bohemia, born July 6, 1373, Rector of the University, and lecturer at Prague; burned alive at Constance, in consequence of the order of the Council, in the forty-second year of his age. His last words were, I resign my soul into the hands of my God and my Redeemer.'" Even there, in the hall which was the scene of his trial, the martyr's memory is honored. There is a model of the dungeon in which he was confined-a living sepulchre, three feet by ten; and there is the hurdle on which he was drawn to the scene of execution; while of the Pontiff who sought to make him the scape-goat for his own sins, and of the Emperor who blushed at being reminded of his violation of Huss's safeconduct, the only memorials are the chairs they occupied.

Passing along the streets, lined with buildings, many of them untenanted, we reach, on the shores of the lake, the Dominican monastery in which Huss was confined, and in whose damp dungeon he contracted that torturing neuralgia which for a time threatened his life, and made the long months of his imprisonment one continuous living martyrdom. At some distance to the west is the plain stone building where Huss first found lodgings on his arrival at Constance. In a niche of the wall stands a rude stone statue of the reformer, but with its features still distinct. It marks the dwelling yet known to every citizen as the Huss House. Still farther on, and outside the Gotleben Gate,

the eyes of the Council, was the popular charge against John Huss. Though accused of heresy, his crime was one not so much of doctrine as of practice. Except on the single point of the supreme authority of Scripture, it would be difficult to name one of his peculiar views which had not, at the very time, bold and earnest ad

amidst cultured gardens, is the spot where the fagots were piled and the martyr suffered. A deserted Capuchin monastery stands near by, a monument of the past and a symbol of the present. The whole scene, within and without the walls, is quiet, and almost desolate, now; but the time was when it was thronged with the wealth, learning, nobility, and power of Euro-vocates in the Roman Catholic Church. It was pean Christendom. Near four centuries and a half ago (1414) kings, princes, nobles, prelates, priests, soldiers, and merchants were congregated there. The buildings of the city could not accommodate the guests. Booths and wooden structures of all kinds were erected outside the walls, and thousands were encamped in the adjoining country. The whole neighborhood presented a curious and novel scene. It was a miniature Christendom. There was the salesman with his wares, the prince with his escort, the magistrate with his symbols of authority, the servant hastening on his errands, bishop and presbyter, lord and vassal, soldiers of fortune, curiosity hunters, the abandoned and the profligate. Wealth and poverty, splendor and meanness, learning and ignorance, were strangely blended. The eye was now attracted by costly attire, sparkling with jewels and glittering with gold; and now repulsed by the loathsome forms of indigence, vice, and lust.

only after his arrest, and during his imprisonment, that he avowed his adherence to the Calixtine doctrine of the Communion of the Cup. He had exposed pretended miracles; but the Archbishop of Prague had sustained him in it. He had rebuked the sale of indulgences; but so had Gerson. He had laid bare the rottenness of pontifical and ecclesiastical corruption; but Cardinal d'Ailly had done the same. He had denounced pontifical canonizations and church festivals, characterized by bacchanalian orgies; but, with more caustic sarcasm, Clemengis had set him an example. He had poured forth torrents of eloquent and indignant rebuke upon the papal crusade against Ladislaus; but Paletz, his former room-mate, now his accuser, had been his abettor. His crime-save that, philosophically, he was a Realist-was narrowed down to this: He would not bow down and acknowledge as infallible the image of its own authority which the Council had set up in the place of the vacant pontificate.

Learning was represented there. In the service, but not in serfdom to the Pope, might A melancholy interest gathers over the closbe seen Poggio Bracciolini, of Florence, one of | ing scenes in this fearful tragedy enacted by the the most illustrious scholars of his day, whose Council. Their victim is no common man. zeal for literature was rewarded by the discov- His whole career, from the hour when his widery of many lost manuscripts of the classics. owed mother, with her cake and goose as a There, too, was Thierry de Niew, secretary to simple present for the rector, set out with him several popes, whose memory his pen has conse- on the journey from Hussinetz to Prague, encrated to historic infamy. There were Æneas lists our sympathy. Huss, like many of his less Sylvius, less renowned as pontiff than as priest; distinguished compeers, was a charity student. Cardinal Zabarella, distinguished for his virtues But the poor boy was rich in the noblest gifts of and his learning, and respected by all; Manuel mind and heart. To his dying day the malice Chrysoloras, the illustrious scholar, who brought of his enemies could not charge him with a from the Eastern Church the tribute of his lit- mean or wicked act. Calumny left his private erary renown. character wholly untouched. His patriotism might be termed ambition, and his zeal for a pure Christianity might be accounted infidelity to the Church; but his lips never uttered impurity, and his hand never held a bribe. He was liberal to the extreme of prodigality, but in honesty was an Aristides. The lessons of his pious mother were rooted deep in his heart, and no allurements or temptations could shake their hold upon his conscience.

And, besides these, there were Cardinal d'Ailly, "the eagle of France" and "anvil of heretics;" John Gerson, for a long time the master-spirit as well as most eloquent and distinguished member of the Council; with a long list of representatives from the universities of Paris, Cologne, Vienna, Prague, Erfurt, Bologna, Cracow, and Oxford.

The scene was magnificent and imposing. The questions that had drawn together the vast assemblage had shaken Europe to its extremities.

Three several pontiffs laid claim to the tiara. The nations were rent by ecclesiastical dissensions. Corruption in the Church and anarchy in the State had reached a height of profligate and unscrupulous daring that was loudly pronounced to be intolerable any longer. The whole head was sick, and the whole heart faint. Some remedy must be devised, and the doctors of Europe met at Constance to draw up the prescription.

But another matter, almost equally grave in

He was not long in rising to distinction. Among the thirty thousand students of the university he soon took the foremost rank. At twenty-six years of age he became the Queen's confessor, and preached before the court. He was little more than thirty when he was chosen rector of the university. The liberality of two citizens of Prague built for him the Bethlehem Chapel. It was crowded to overflowing with an eager auditory. The preacher spoke with an authority and eloquence that carried all before it. At this juncture the widowed Queen of England brought back with her the writings of

er.

Huss remained for a week, under a strong guard, in the house of the clerk of the cathedral of Constance, and was thence conveyed to the prison of the Dominican monastery on the banks of the lake. It was close, damp, and unwholesome, in immediate proximity to the receptacle of the filth of the monastery. Huss was seized with a raging fever, and his life was almost despaired of. The Pope sent him his own physician; "for," says an old historian, "he feared that John Huss might die a natural death."

Wicliffe. Huss was slow to approve them; | had him in his toils. Sigismond dared not risk but the more he read, the more he liked them. the consequences to himself and the Council of The spirit of the two men was sympathetic. He vindicating his own safe-conduct against a man commended the writings of the English reform- charged with heresy. Copies were multiplied. Scores, elegantly bound, were soon in circulation. But the university took the alarm. The archbishop demanded that the books should be brought him, and he made a bonfire of them. The people were exasperated. The King remonstrated with the archbishop; but the large secession of students, dissatisfied with the patriotic zeal of Huss, who demanded that the university should be subject to Bohemian instead of German control, made him many enemies. He was accused of heresy. The Pope sustained the charge on a prejudiced trial, and forbade Huss to preach. He was forced, at length, to leave the city. But he would not be silent. He was still busy with tongue and pen. In different parts of the kingdom his voice was heard. At last he was permitted to return. The popular demand for his presence bore down all opposition. Again Bethlehem Chapel resounded with his bold denunciation and eloquent invective. A weaker man filled the episcopal chair. As inquisitor of the faith he certified to Huss's orthodoxy. The university commended him. Secure in the confidence of his integrity, Huss welcomed the approach of the Council. The Emperor sent him a safe-conduct, and he set out on his journey to Constance.

Many a hearty greeting did he receive on the way. At almost every place where he stopped crowds were eager to see and hear him; most approved his words. Almost at the same time with the Pope he reached the city. The first conference passed amicably. John XXIII. assured him that he should not be molested. "You are safe," said he. "Even if you had killed my own brother, no injustice should be done you." Huss returned to his lodgings. His fears were quieted; and as opportunity of fered, he gave utterance to his views. The citizens of Constance thronged to see him. But his enemies were not idle. They first spread the report that Huss could read their secret thoughts. Some were terrified; but others were drawn toward him. And now the arts of his enemies were directed to his arrest. The reckless and unprincipled pontiff was persuaded that it would be a good stroke of policy, and give him credit for zeal against heresy, if he should arrest Huss. In violation of the Emperor's safe-conduct and the Pope's assurance, it was done by his order. Huss was thrown into prison.

The indignation of the Bohemian escort was extreme. John de Chlum sent to the Emperor -now on his way from Aix-la-Chapelle to Constance-an account of the outrage. Sigismond was enraged, and gave orders for the immediate release of Huss, even to tearing down the prison doors, if necessary. But in his absence the Pope declined obedience. The place of imprisonment was kept a secret. At length the Emperor reached Constance, but the Pope soon

It was in this vile and noisome cell that the three commissioners appointed by the Pope to examine Huss found him. They presented him the series of articles drawn up by Paletz, which he pretended to have extracted from his "Treatise on the Church," but which had been in part falsified. Worn down by sickness and anxiety, Huss felt impelled to claim the criminal's right, and apply for a legal defender. But this was refused him, on the plea that the canons make it a crime to defend a man suspected of heresy. "I besought the commissioners," said he, "to grant me an advocate. They at first granted my request, but afterward refused it. I therefore place my confidence in our Saviour Jesus Christ. May He be at once my Advocate and my Judge."

For three months, while the trial of the Pope was pending, Huss was left almost entirely unmolested. The humanity of his physicians ordered his removal to a healthier place; and his faithful friend De Chlum provided him with pen, ink, paper, and a Bible, of all of which he had been hitherto deprived. His patience, gentleness, and piety won the hearts of his keepers. Not rarely, when his examiners entered the prison, they found these rude and uneducated men listening with eager attention to his instructions. Several of his treatises, contained in his works, were designed for their perusal, or were written at their request. It is a touching memento of affection which we find in the simple names of Robert, James, and Gregory, appended at the close of these writings, and indicating the strong sympathy which attached them to the prisoner. The records of martyrdom scarce contain any thing more affecting than Huss's prison experience. His letters to his friends at Prague, afflicted, as well as indignant in his affliction, betray no murmuring, and affect no bravado. Repeatedly do they remind us of "Paul, the prisoner of Jesus Christ," in the affectionate earnestness and apostolic fervor of their appeals. Not a sign of wavering or irresolution do they betray throughout. Of his sufferings, which were intense, and of his hardships, which were cruel, scarce a single word escapes him. Now and then he cheers his disconsolate countrymen by the expression of a hope of release. But in his own mind the prospect

was faint indeed. he.

"Pray to God for me," said | who admired the firm and noble bearing of Huss; but the assembly was too excited to proceed, and the sitting was broken up.

"All my hope rests in Him, and in your prayers. Implore Him, therefore, to vouchsafe to me the assistance of His Spirit, that I may confess His name, even unto death. If he deigns to receive me at the present time, His holy will be done."

The Emperor, informed of the disgraceful scene, resolved to be present himself at future sessions, and curb the hot-headed zeal of the theological disputants. But even his presence was a feeble check. The first article, read by his bitter enemy, Michael de Cansis, charging

On March 20, 1415, the wily Pope fled in disguise from Constance. Huss was given in charge to harsher jailers than the Pope had al-Huss with having taught the doctrine of the lowed him. Armed men transferred him, by order of the Bishop of Constance, to the Castle of Gotleben, on the banks of the Rhine. He was shut up in one of the towers of the building, with irons on his feet; and at night a chain, firmly fixed to the wall, prevented the captive from moving from his bed.

For nearly two months Huss remained in the castle. The deposition of John XXIII. at length allowed the Council leisure to regard the importunate and indignant remonstrances of the Bohemians, who demanded for him an impartial trial. Little as Huss had to expect of mercy, he was rejoiced when, on the 6th of June, he was brought back to Constance. "I had rather be burned than suffocated in prison." So he wrote to his faithful friend De Chlum.

Communion of the Cup, was met by a firm denial. To some of the others he gave a qualified assent, which was received with deafening peals of laughter. Cardinal d'Ailly attempted to prove, scholastically, from Huss's realism, that he must also believe in transubstantiation. Huss replied that transubstantiation was contrary to the natural order of things, and, as a miracle, the logic of realism made it an exception. Several members found fault with him for having expressed a doubt of Wicliffe's damnation, when the Englishman's books were publicly burned. "These were my words," said he; "I can not affirm if Wicliffe will be saved or lost; I would, however, rest content in the hope that my soul might be with his.'"

His appeal from the popes Alexander V. and John XXIII. was cited in accusation. "No appeal," said Huss, "can be more just and holy. Is not an appeal according to law-to have recourse from an inferior judge to a higher and more enlightened one? But what judge can be superior to Christ? Is there in any one more justice than in Him, in whom neither error nor falsity can be found? Is there any where a more assured refuge for the wretched and oppressed?" The reply of the Council to this plea of Huss was mockery and insult.

A congregation, embracing the prelates, doctors, and most of the members of the Council, met to hear the articles against Huss. They were read, and the assembly was about coming to a decisive vote, when the notary, Maldoniewitz, a friend of Huss, hurried out to inform his countryman, De Chlum. The latter hastened to the Emperor. Sigismond was indignant, and gave immediate orders to suspend proceedings in Huss's absence, and to send him the objectionable treatises, which he would put into the hands of learned doctors to examine. He was charged with having urged the peoThe last direction the Council refused to ob-ple to take up arms in defense of the Gospel. serve; to the former they yielded, and ordered Huss to be brought before them.

He was first presented with his books, and asked if he acknowledged their authorship. He replied that he did; and added, "If any man among you can point out any mistaken proposition in them, I will rectify it with the most hearty good-will.”

The first of the series of articles containing his objectionable views was then read, with the names of the witnesses who supported the charge. Huss commenced to reply, but the clamors of the assembly drowned his utterance. According to the account of an eye-witness the members behaved more like wild beasts than sage doctors. As the tumult subsided Huss appealed to the Holy Scriptures in his defense. "That is not the question," was shouted from all sides. Some accused him; others laughed him to scorn. Calmly glancing over the excited assembly, Huss exclaimed, "I anticipated a different reception, and had imagined that I should obtain a hearing. I am unable to make myself heard in such a noise, and I am silent because I am forced to it. I would willingly speak were I listened to." There were some

"Yes," he replied, "I did so; but they were the arms spoken of by the Apostle-the helmet of righteousness and the sword of the Spirit."

An Englishman, Nason, asserted that he had caused the banishment of many learned men from Bohemia. "How can that be?" answered Huss. "When they were banished I was in exile from Prague myself."

But the time had arrived to close the sitting. As they led Huss away, guarded by soldiers, Cardinal d'Ailly exclaimed,

"John Huss, I have heard you say that if you had not chosen to come to Constance neither king nor emperor could have forced you."

"What I said," replied Huss, "was, that there were friends of mine among the Bohemian nobles who could have kept and concealed me so that no man, neither king nor emperor, could constrain me to come."

"Do you hear his audacity?" exclaimed the Cardinal, seeking to incense the Emperor against him.

"John Huss has spoken well," retorted the brave knight De Chlum. "I am but an insignificant person in Bohemia, compared with many others; and yet, if I had undertaken it,