it, and appointed a day for the parties to come before him, and desired the lady might attend to give her evidence against the man whom she thus accused. She attended as desired, accompanied by a great number of her relations, and the examinations and pleadings were carried on before the count to a great length. James le Gris boldly denied the charge, declared it was false, and wondered much how he could have incurred such mortal hatred from the lady. The count told the lady he would support his squire, and that she must have dreamed it. He commanded that henceforward all should be buried in oblivion, and, under pain | of incurring his displeasure, nothing farther done in the business. The knight, being a man of courage, and believing what his wife had told him, would not submit to this, but went to Paris and appealed to the Parliament. The Parliament summoned James le Gris, who replied and gave pledges to obey whatever judgment the Parliament should give. The cause lasted upward of a year, and they could not any way compromise it, for the knight was positive, from his wife's information, of the fact, and declared that, since it was now so public, he would pursue it until death. The count d'Alençon for this conceived a great hatred against the knight, and would have had him put to death had he not placed himself under the safeguard of the Parliament. It was long pleaded, and the Parliament at last, because they could not produce other evidence than herself against James le Gris, judged it should be decided in the tilt-yard by a duel for life or death. The knight, the squire and the lady were instantly put under arrest until the day of this mortal combat, which, by order of Par liament, was fixed for the ensuing Monday, in the year 1387, at which time the king of France and his barons were at Sluys, intending to invade England. The king, on hearing of this duel, declared he would be present at it. The dukes of Berry, Burgundy, Bourbon and the constable of France, being also desirous of seeing it, agreed it was proper he should be there. The king, in consequence, sent orders to Paris to prolong the day of the duel, for that he would be present. This order was punctually obeyed, and the king and his lords departed for France. The king kept the feast of the Calends at Arras, and the duke of Burgundy at Lille. In the mean time, the men-at-arms made for their different homes, as had been ordered by the marshals, but the principal chiefs went to Paris to witness the combat. When the king of France was returned to Paris, lists were made for the champions in the place of St. Catherine, behind the temple, and the lords had erected on one side scaffolds, the better to see the fight. The crowd of people was wonderful. The two champions entered the lists armed at all points, and each was seated in a chair opposite the other; the count de St. Pol directed Sir John de Carogne, and the retainers of the count d'Alençon James le Gris. On the knight entering the field he went. to his lady, who was covered with black and seated on a chair, and said, "Lady, from your accusation, and in your quarrel, am I thus adventuring my life to combat James le Gris: you know whether my cause be loyal and true." "My lord," she replied, "it is so; and you may fight securely, for your cause is good." The lady remained seated, making fervent prayers to God and the Virgin, entreating humbly that through her grace and intercession she might gain the victory according to her right. Her affliction was great, for her life depended on the event; and should her husband lose the victory, she would have been burnt and he would have been hanged. I am ignorant-for I never had any conversation with her or the knight -whether she had not frequently repented of having pushed matters so far as to place herself and husband in such peril; but it was now too late, and she must abide the event. The two champions were then advanced and placed opposite to each other, when they mounted their horses and made a handsome appearance, for they were both expert men at arms. They ran their first course with out hurt to either. After the tilting they dismounted and made ready to continue the fight. They behaved with courage, but Sir John de Carogne was at the first onset wounded in the thigh, which alarmed all his friends. Notwithstanding this, he fought so desperately that he struck down his adversary, and, thrusting his sword through the body, caused instant death, when he demanded of the spectators if he had done his duty; they replied that he had. The body of James le Gris was delivered to the hangman, who dragged it to Montfaucon, and there hanged it. Sir John de Carogne approached the king and fell on his knees; the king made him rise, and ordered one thousand francs to be paid him that very day; he also retained him of his household, with a pension of two hundred livres a year, which he received as long as he lived. Sir John, after thanking the king and his lords, went to his lady and kissed her; they went together to make their offering in the church of Nôtre Dame, and then returned to their home. Translation of THOMAS JONES. CONSCIENCE. DELIVERED BEFORE THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE. HE first function of the conscience is to warn, and herein is much of its mystery, for it seems to be ourselves, yet not ourselves; inseparable from us, yet no part of us; speaking to us with gentle and divine approval or with terrible and imperious authority, yet with no inherent power to determine our actions. Wholly beyond our mastery, it stands toward moral evil in the same relation that pain holds toward disease. When anything is wrong with our bodies, when any function is disturbed, when any mischief is latent, pain comes, whether we will or no, to warn us beneficently of our danger. Nor is it otherwise with the soul. All evil springs from evil thoughts: "out of the heart proceed evil thoughts ”—evil thoughts, and then all the long black catalogue of sins you know. And since an evil thought is to the soul a disordered function, an undeveloped disease, a latent leprosy, when it is lurking there the pang of an alarmed conscience gives us timely warning. Vain is it to plead that this is but a thought. "Guard well," it says, "thy thoughts, for thoughts are heard in heaven." It was a recognized principle of Roman law that cogitationis poenam nemo patitur, but this is not the principle of that sole legislation which had an origin immediately divine. In every other code that the world has ever seen or known you will find no prohibition of evil thoughts, but you will find that prohibition alike in the first and in the last of those ten commandments which are the code of Him who alone searcheth and knoweth the heart of man. Yea, in the code of Heaven a bad thought indulged is a bad deed committed. Oh, if we listen to this warning from the first, if we thus obstamus principiis, how strong, how noble, how impregnable to the assaults of evil, may the soul become! For there are but two ways by which men grievously fall: the one is by some sudden access of temptation; the other, by the subtle corrosion of some besetting sin. But into the latter, if we be true to that voice within us, we cannot fall, because innocence is nature's wisdom, and conscience faithfully cherished makes it more terrible, more difficult, to yield than to resist; and if, on the other hand, evil, unable thus to surprise us by the noiseless and sinuous gliding of the serpent, bounds suddenly upon us with a wild beast's roar and leap, even then it will not master us, because then our habits and our impulses, being pure and true, shield themselves instantly under the strong breastplate of righteousness, and the reiterated choice of what was good has prepared the whole instinct of our nature, the whole bias of our character, for resistance to the sudden sin. Whatever be the shape that the vile allurement takes, the spirit within us thrills its glad response to the noble utterance of the stainless Hebrew boy: "How can I How can I do this great wickedness, and sin against God?" Yes, this is the state at which we all should aim: 66 'This is the happy warrior-this is he Whom every man-at-arms should wish to be." For when we have attained this state or are attaining to it, then we are happy; then, the eye being single, the whole body is full of light. We reverence ourselves; films fall away from our eyes; we know that righteousness tendeth to life; we cherish in our consciences the eternal protest against everything that can degrade and ruin us, the eternal witness that everything sweetest and noblest is within our reach. It is one of the very finest and deepest sayings of the great sage of China that "heaven means principle." With him-with all good men who have ever lived-this was the solid result and outcome of experience. Other sources of happiness are but as transient gleams of sunlight, but this is life eternal; other blessings fade as the flowers fade, but this is an everlasting foundation. TH FREDERIC W. FARRAR (Archdeacon Farrar). DEATH OF PLINY THE ELDER. HE fire from Vesuvius flamed forth from several parts of the mountain with great violence, which the darkness of the night contributed to render still more visible and dreadful. But my uncle, in order to calm the apprehensions of his friend, assured him that it was only the conflagration of the villages which the country-people had abandoned. After this he retired to rest, and it is most certain he was so little discomposed as to fall into a deep sleep; for, being corpulent and breathing hard, the attendants in the ante-chamber actually heard him snore. The court which led to his apartment being now almost filled with stones and ashes, it would have been impossible for him, if he had continued there any longer, to have made his way out. It was thought proper, therefore, to awaken him. He got up and joined Pomponianus and the rest of the who company, had not been sufficiently unconcerned to think of going to bed. They consulted of the company and obliged him to rise. He raised himself up with the assistance of two of his servants, and instantly fell down dead, suffocated, I conjecture, by some gross and noxious vapor, having always had weak lungs and being frequently subject to a difficulty of breathing. PLINY THE YOUNGER. together whether it would be most prudent ALL HOUSES WILL BE OPEN TO YOU. to trust to the houses, which now shook from side to side with frequent and violent concussions, or flee to the open fields, where the calcined stones and cinders, though levigated indeed, yet fell in large showers, and threatened them with instant destruction. In this distress they resolved upon the fields as the less dangerous situation of the twoa resolution which, while the rest of the company were hurried into by their fears, my uncle embraced upon cool and deliberate consideration. They went out then, having pillows tied upon their heads with napkins, and this was their whole defence against the storm of stones which fell around them. It was now day everywhere else, but there a deeper darkness prevailed than in the blackest night, which, however, was in some degree dissipated by torches and other lights of various kinds. They thought it expedient to go down farther upon the shore, in order to observe if they might safely put out to sea, but they found the waves still running extremely high and boisterous. There my uncle, having drunk a draught or two of cold water, laid himself down upon a sail-cloth which was spread for him, when immediately the flames, preceded by a strong smell of sulphur, dispersed the rest FROM THE GERMAN OF BERTHOLD AUERBACH. WHEN twilight began to fall, Lenz valley. "All houses will be open to you," Pröbler had said. All houses? That was saying a great deal-in fact, so much that it meant nothing. To feel at home in entering a house, its inhabitants must go on calmly with their various pursuits; you must form so entirely a part of the family that neither look nor gesture asks, "Why do you come here? What do you want? What is the matter?" If you are not quite at home, then the house is not really open to you at any moment; and as Lenz's thoughts travel from house to house in the village for a couple of miles round he knows he will be joyfully welcomed by all, but he is nowhere really at home. And yet he has one friend with whom he is thoroughly at home-just as much so as in his own room. The painter Pilgrim wished to go home with him yesterday, after the funeral, but, as his uncle Petrowitsch joined him, Pilgrim remained behind, for Petrowitsch had a hearty contempt for Pilgrim because he was a poor devil, and Pilgrim had an equally hearty contempt for Petrowitsch because he was a rich devil. dressed and went down into the Translation of LADY WALLACE. TRUE NOBILITY NOT IN BIRTH, BUT VIRTUE. HEN the pure offspring of a | I mean to-day, by privilege of my pen, splendid line Where godlike heroes in bright order shine Burns, like Dangeau, to emulate their fame, CA Nobility Nobility is something more than name. But who can stoop to hear a coxcomb trace The faded glories of a pomp ous race, On foreign merit build his empty prideDegenerate fool to ancient worth allied? Though chronicles of earliest France record Some generous triumph of his grandsire's sword, Say, then, great demigod, creation's boast, Courts the steep mountain and the dashing flood, Who drinks the gale, elate, with quivering ear, And, all-impatient in the proud career, Welcomes the doubling shout and scorns to yield, And, stung with glory, spans the listed field; But when the line of proud Bayardo's race Though elder kings adorned the haughty Ends in a jade, we sell her with disgrace, shield And shared their lilies rescued in the field, In whom his household's honor is impaired, Nor does her haughty pedigree avail Virtue alone denotes the noble mind. Can you to glory sacrifice repose |