Of loyal vassals toiling for their liege.

"And near him stood the Lady of the Lake, Who knows a subtler magic than his own,Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful. She gave the King his huge cross-hilted sword, Whereby to drive the heathen out: a mist Of incense curled about her, and her face Well-nigh was hidden in the minster gloom; But there was heard among the holy hymns. A voice as of the waters, for she dwells Down in a deep, calm, whatsoever storms

May shake the world, and when the surface rolls, Hath power to walk the waters like our Lord.

"There likewise I beheld Excalibur

Before him at his crowning borne, the sword
That rose from out the bosom of the lake,
And Arthur rowed across and took it, rich
With jewels, elfin Urim, on the hilt,
Bewildering heart and eye, the blade so bright
That men are blinded by it; - on one side,
Graven in the oldest tongue of all this world,
'Take me;' but turn the blade and

ye

shall see, And written in the speech ye speak yourself, 'Cast me away!' And sad was Arthur's face Taking it, but old Merlin counselled him,

'Take thou and strike the time to cast away Is yet far off.' So this great brand the King Took, and by this will beat his foemen down.'

THE NEW REPUBLIC.

LEON GAMBETTA. TRANSLATED BY THE EDITORS.

CITIZENS, this is the twenty-first of September. It is seventy-eight years to-day since our fathers founded the Republic and took an oath in face of the foreigner who, by his presence, sullied the sacred soil of the Fatherland, to live free or to die in combating the enemy.

They kept their oath, they were victorious, and the Republic of seventeen ninety-two has remained in the recollection of men as the symbol of heroism and national grandeur.

Your government installed at the Hotel de Ville amidst cries of "Vive la Republique" could not allow this glorious anniversary to pass over without referring to it as a great example for the future.

Let the spirit that fired our ancestors animate our souls, and we will conquer. Let us to-day honor our fathers and to-morrow let us know how, like them, to seize on victory in facing death. Vive la France! Vive la Republique!

THE EXILE'S HOPE.

VICTOR HUGO.

You are wrung with grief, but you have courage and faith. You do well, my friends. Courage, then! Courage more than ever! As I have already said, it grows more evident, from day to day, that, at this instant, France and England have left to them but one path,.

one outlet of safety-the emancipation of the peoples the insurrection in mass of the prostrate nationalities -the Revolution! Sublime alternative! It is grand that safety has become identified with justice. It is in this that Providence breaks forth in splendor. Ay, have courage, more than ever! In the hour of utmost peril Danton exclaimed, “Daring! daring! and yet more daring!" In adversity we should cry out, "Hope! hope! and still more hope!" Friends and brothers! the great Republic, the democratic, social, and free Republic, will, ere long, blaze out in magnificence again; for it is the office of the empire to give it a new birth, as it is the office of the night to usher in the day. These men of tyranny and misery will disappear. Their time to stay is now counted by quick minutes. They are backing to the edge of the abyss, and we, who are already in the gulf, can see their heels that quiver already beyond the borders of the precipice. Oh, exiles! I call forth in testimony the hemlock the Socrates have drank; the Golgothas the Christs have climbed; the Jerichos the Joshuas have caused to crumble. I summon up in testimony the baths of blood taken by the Thraseas; the faggots whence John Huss, and those of this world like him, have cried, "the swan will yet be born!" I summon in testimony these seas that beat around us, and which the Columbuses have passed beyond; I call upon yonder stars which shine above us, and which the Galileos have questioned, to bear witness, exiles and brethren, that liberty can never die: she is immortal, and, exiles, Truth is eternal!

Progress is the very stride of God.

THE KING'S DIARY.

[July 14, 1789.]

JOHN W. CHADWICK.

"RIEN," he wrote, because it chanced that day
There was no hunt of fawn or stag or boar.
All else was nothing to the man who wore
The crown which once the brows of Hugh Capet
Had ached beneath, eight centuries away.

Since then what well-beloved and hated more
Had worn it lightly, or with anguish sore,
Some strong to rule and many but to slay!
"Nothing!" And, while he wrote the senseless word,
The tocsin rang in Paris; the human flood
Poured onward raging till it came where stood
The Bastille. Soon the foolish King had heard
How prone it lay. Behold his aimless wit:
He and his kingdom were as he had writ.

MARIE ANTOINETTE.

EDMUND Burke.

It is now sixteen or seventeen years since I saw the Queen of France, then the Dauphiness, at Versailles; and surely never lighted on this orb, which she hardly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. I saw her just above the horizon, decorating and cheering the elevated sphere she just began to move in-glittering

like the morning star, full of life, and splendor, and joy. Oh, what a revolution! and what a heart must I have to contemplate without emotion that elevation and that fall! Little did I dream, when she added titles of veneration to that enthusiastic, distant, respectful love, that she should ever be obliged to carry the sharp antidote against disgrace concealed in that bosom ; little did I dream that I should have lived to see such disasters fallen upon her in a nation of gallant men, in a nation of men of honor and of cavaliers. I thought ten thousand swords must have leaped from their scabbards to avenge even a look that threatened her with insult. But the age of chivalry is gone. That of sophisters, economists, and calculators has succeeded; and the glory of Europe is extinguished forever!

PROCLAMATION TO THE ARMY OF ITALY.

NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.

SOLDIERS, you have, in fifteen days, gained six victories, taken twenty standards, fifty pieces of cannon, numerous strongholds, and conquered the richest part of Piedmont; you have made fifteen thousand prisoners; and killed or wounded more than ten thousand men.

But, I must not dissemble with you; you have as yet done nothing, since there remains still much to be done. Neither Turin nor Milan are yours.

You were stripped of everything at the beginning of