And the seven crowned men seemed pensive and mournful; and from the depths of the hollow sockets, their eyes from time to time let gleams of livid fire escape.

And one of them, having risen, totteringly approached the throne, and set his foot upon the crucifix.

And at that moment his limbs trembled, and he seemed about to sink. The others regarded him stonily; they made not the slightest movement, but something inscrutable passed over their brows, and an unearthly smile distorted their lips.

And he who had seemed about to sink stretched out his hand, grasped the vessel filled with blood, turned some of it into the skull, and drank it.

And that draught seemed to fortify him.

And, raising his head, this cry came from his breast in a dull rattle:

"Accursed be Christ, who has brought back Liberty upon the earth!"

And the six other crowned men rose in unison, and in unison sent up the same cry:

"Accursed be Christ, who has brought back Liberty upon the

earth!"

After which, having seated themselves once more upon their iron chairs, the first one said:

-

"My brethren, what can we do to strangle Liberty? for our reign is ended if hers begins. Our cause is one : let each propose what seemeth him good.

"This, for mine own part, is the counsel I give. Before Christ came, who stood erect in our presence? It is his religion that has destroyed us : let us abolish the religion of Christ."

And all responded: "It is true. Let us abolish the religion of Christ."

And a second advanced toward the throne, took the human skull, poured the blood therein, drank it, and spoke thus: —

"It is not religion alone that must be abolished, but science and thought as well; for science would know what it is not good for us that men should know, and thought is ever ready to lift the heel against force."

And all responded: "It is true. Let us abolish science and thought."

And having done what the first two had done, the third said:

"When we have plunged men once more into brutishness

by taking from them religion and science and thought at once, we shall have done much, but there will yet remain somewhat more to do.

"The brute has dangerous instincts and sympathies. No nation must hear the voice of any other nation, for fear lest, if one shall complain and arouse itself, another may be tempted to imitate it. Let no sound from outside penetrate among us.' And all responded: "It is true. Let no sound from outside penetrate among us."

And a fourth said: "We have our interests, and the nations have also their interests opposed to ours. If they unite to defend those interests against us, how can we resist them?

"Let us divide to rule. Let us create in each province, in each town, in each hamlet, an interest contrary to those of other hamlets, of other towns, of other provinces.

"By this means they will hate one another, and they will not think of uniting against us."

And all responded: "It is true. agreement would be death to us."

Let us divide to rule:

And a fifth, having twice filled with blood and twice emptied the human skull, said:

"I approve all these methods: they are good but insufficient. Make brutes, that is well; but intimidate those brutes, strike terror into them by an inexorable justice and by atrocious punishments, if you would not sooner or later be devoured by them. The executioner is the prime minister of a good prince." And all responded: "It is true. The executioner is the prime minister of a good prince."

And a sixth said:

"I recognize the advantage of prompt punishments, terrible, inevitable. Nevertheless there are strong spirits and desperate spirits which brave such punishments.

"Would you govern men easily, enervate them by pleasures. Virtue is worth nothing to us, it nourishes force; rather let us exhaust it by corruption."

And all responded: "It is true. Let us exhaust force and energy and courage by corruption.'

Then the seventh, having like the others drunk from the human skull, spake after this sort, his feet on the crucifix:— "No more about Christ: there is war to the death, eternal war, between him and us.

"But how detach the nations from him? It is a vain VOL. XXII.-26

attempt. What then shall be done? Listen to me: the priests of Christ must be won over with wealth, honors, and power.

"And they will command the people, on the part of Christ, to submit to us in all things, whatever we may do, whatever we may ordain;

"And the people will believe them, and will obey them for conscience' sake, and our power will be more firmly fixed than heretofore."

And all responded: "It is true. Let us win over the priests of Christ."

And suddenly the lamp which lit the room went out, and the seven men departed in the darkness.

And it had been said to a righteous man, who at that moment watched and prayed before the cross: "My day approaches. Worship and fear naught."

II.

And through a gray and heavy fog, I saw, as one sees on the earth the hour of twilight, a naked, desert, and frigid plain.

In its midst arose a rock, whence fell drop by drop a blackish water; and the feeble and hollow sound of the drops which fell was the only sound that was heard.

And seven paths, after having meandered through the plain, led finally up to the rock; and near the rock, at the opening of each, was a stone covered with an unknown something moist and green, in seeming like the slime of a reptile.

And lo, on one of the paths I espied a sort of shadow which slowly moved; and little by little the shadow approached, and I distinguished, not a man, but the similitude of a man.

And in place of a heart this human form had a clot of blood. And it seated itself on the moist green rock, and its limbs shivered, and with drooping head it hugged itself with its arms, as if to retain the remainder of its warmth.

And by the six other roads, six other shadows successively arrived at the foot of the rock.

And each of them, shivering and hugging itself with its arms, seated itself on the moist green rock.

And they sat there in silence, and bowed beneath the weight of an incomprehensible anguish.

And their silence lasted long, -I know not how long, for the sun never rose over that plain; neither morning nor even

ing there was known. The drops of blackish water solely measured, in falling, an enduring monotony, dusky, sluggish, eternal.

And that was so horrible to see, that if God had not fortified me, I could not have sustained the view.

And after a sort of convulsive shiver, one of the shadows, lifting up its head, let a sound be heard like the hoarse, dry sound of the wind as it whistles through a skeleton.

And the rock sent back these words to my ear:

"Christ has conquered: may he be accursed!"

And the six other shadows started; and all raising their heads at once, the same blasphemy sprang from their bosoms:"Christ has conquered: may he be accursed!"

And directly they were seized with a stronger trembling, the fog grew denser, and for a moment the blackish water ceased to flow.

And the seven shadows had bent anew beneath the weight of their secret anguish, and there had been a second silence longer than the first.

Then one of them, without arising from his stone, moveless and bowed down, said to the others:

"It has then fortuned to you as to me. What service have our counsels done us?"

And another replied: "Faith and thought have broken the chains of the nations; faith and thought have freed the earth." And another said: "We would have divided men, and our oppression has united them against us.'

And another: "We have shed blood, and the blood has rained back upon our heads."

And another: "We have sowed corruption, and it has sprouted in ourselves, and devoured our bones."

And another: "We have thought to strangle Liberty, and

her breath has withered our power to its root."

Then the seventh shadow:

"Christ has conquered: may he be accursed!"
And all with one voice responded: -

"Christ has conquered: may he be accursed!"

And I saw a hand that stretched forth; it dipped a finger in the blackish water, whereof the drops in falling measured eternal duration, marked with it the forehead of the seven shadows, and that was forever.

THE OLD STOIC.

BY EMILY BRONTË.

[1818-1848.]

RICHES I hold in light esteem,
And Love I laugh to scorn;
And lust of fame was but a dream,
That vanished with the morn;

And if I pray, the only prayer
That moves my lips for me

Is, "Leave the heart that now I bear,
And give me liberty!"

Yes, as my swift days near their goal "Tis all that I implore;

In life and death a chainless soul,

With courage to endure.