sceptre. Having received these, they were all admitted to sit in the court. If any person sat among the judges who had not received one of the aforesaid letters, he was fined. These judges, having heard the causes they were appointed to take cognizance of, went immediately and delivered back the sceptre to the Prytanes, from whom they received the reward due to them. This was termed the judicial fee. Sometimes it was an obol for every cause they decided, sometimes three obols, being sometimes raised higher than at others by the instance of men who endeavored by that means to become popular. No man was permitted to sit as judge in two courts upon the same day, that looking like the effect of covetousness; and if any of the judges were convicted of bribery, he was fined. The judges in all the courts were obliged to take a solemn oath by the paternal Apollo, Ceres and Jupiter the king that they would give sentence uprightly and according to law, if the law had determined the point debated, or where the law was silent according to the best of their judgments. Of all the judicial courts that handled civil affairs, Heliæa was far the greatest and most frequented, being so called, ano 78 åλleodai, from the people's thronging together, or rather año 78 218, because it was an open place and exposed to the sun. The judges that sat in this court were at least fifty, but the more usual number was two or five hundred. When causes of great consequence were to be tried, it was customary to call in the judges of other courts. Sometimes a thousand were called in, and these two courts are said to have been joined; sometimes fifteen hundred or two thousand, and then three or four courts met together; whence it appears that the WITH ITH this noble hot-blooded Gessler I celebrated the battle of Leipzig, then packed up my bundle and started in a huge carriage drawn by four horses, on which the trunks and baggage which the minister had left behind were loaded, along the road which leads to Schweidnitz and Goldberg, and thence going to the east through Lusatia to the Elbe. Journeying on toward Leipzig, I crossed thre Elbe at Meissen. It was not possible to go by Dresden, for the French Marshal St. Cyr with thirty-five thousand men lay there, and the Russians, under Bennigsen, were besieging it. Here, in a little village not far from Mühlberg, I heard that Körner and his family were staying in a little inn, having escaped out of Dresden before the siege. I saw the good people, and we rejoiced together; and their first question to me was about their Theodor, whether I had not any news for them of the Lützowers. I was obliged to say, "No." They were in great anxiety, having heard rumors of fighting in Mecklenburg, and of their son being wounded. They gave me letters to their friends in Leipzig, and begged me to let them know immediately if I heard anything about their son. Alas! I had to write to them only too soon the sad message: "Your son has fallen by a ball, and lies buried in Mecklenburg, under the shadow of a German oak." Coming near Leipzig, I saw with my own Leipzig, good town of the fair linden's shade, Translation of JOHN ROBERT SEELEY, M. A. THE NEW YEAR. YET more and more he smiles upon The happy revolution : Why should we, then, suspect or fear So smiles upon us the first morn, Be super-excellently good; Than the best fortunes that do fall, And, though the princess turn her back, CHARLES COTTON. CURFEW MUST NOT RING TO-NIGHT. NGLAND'S sun was slowly set- away, Filling all the land with beauty at the close of one sad day, And the last rays kissed the forehead of a man and maiden fair He with step so slow and weakened, she with sunny, floating hair; He with sad bowed head and thoughtful, she with lips so cold and white, Struggling to keep back the murmur, few must not ring to-night!" "Cur Long, long years I've rung the curfew from that gloomy shadowed tower; Every evening just at sunset it has told the twilight hour; I have done my duty ever tried to do it just and right: Now I'm old, I will not miss it. Girl, the curfew rings to-night!" Wild her eyes and pale her features, stern and white her thoughtful brow, And within her heart's deep centre Bessie made a solemn vow. She had listened while the judges read, without a tear or sigh, "At the ringing of the curfew Basil Underwood must die.' "Sexton," Bessie's white lips faltered, point- And her breath came fast and faster, and her ing to the prison old, With its walls so dark and gloomy-walls so dark and damp and cold "I've a lover in that prison, doomed this very night to die At the ringing of the curfew, and no earthly help is nigh. Cromwell will not come till sunset;" and her face grew strangely white As she spoke in husky whispers: "Curfew must not ring to-night!" "Bessie," calmly spoke the sexton-every word pierced her young heart eyes grew large and bright; One low murmur, scarcely spoken: "Curfew must not ring to-night!" She with light step bounded forward, sprang within the old church door, Left the old man coming slowly paths he'd trod so oft before; Not one moment paused the maiden, but with cheek and brow aglow Staggered up the gloomy tower, where the bell swung to and fro; Then she climbed the slimy ladder, dark without one ray of light, Like a thousand gleaming arrows, like a Upward still, her pale lips saying, "Curfew deadly poisoned dart shall not ring to-night!" She has reached the topmost ladder; o'er her O'er the distant hills came Cromwell; Bessie hangs the great dark bell, saw him, and her brow, And the awful gloom beneath her, like the Lately white with sickening terror, glows pathway down to hell. with sudden beauty now; See! the ponderous tongue is swinging: 'tis At his feet she told her story, showed her the hour of curfew now, hands all bruised and torn, And the sight has chilled her bosom, stopped her breath and paled her brow. And her sweet young face so haggard, with a look so sad and worn, Shall she let it ring? No, never! Her eyes Touched his heart with sudden pity: lit his flash with sudden light eyes with misty light; "curfew shall not ring to-night." ROSA HARTWICK THORPE. As she springs and grasps it firmly: "Cur- "Go, your lover lives!" cried Cromwell; few shall not ring to-night!" Out she swung-far out; the city seemed a tiny speck below, There 'twixt heaven and earth suspended as the bell swung to and fro, And the half-deaf sexton ringing-years he had not heard the bell And he thought the twilight curfew rang young Basil's funeral knell. Still the maiden, clinging firmly, cheek and brow so pale and white, Stilled her frightened heart's wild beating: "Curfew shall not ring to-night!" It was o'er; the bell ceased swaying, and hundred years before Human foot had not been planted; and what she this night had done Should be told in long years after: as the rays of setting sun Let the drudge of the town make riches his sport, The slave of the state hunt the smiles of a court; No care and ambition our pastime annoy, Light the skies with mellow beauty aged sires But innocence still gives a zest to our joy. with heads of white Tell their children why the curfew did not | Mankind are all hunters in various degree: The priest hunts a living; the lawyer, a fee; ring that one sad night. |