forests to which he prays for pity, will he find a respite? What a tumult, what a gathering of feet is there! In glades where only wild deer should run, armies and nations are assembling. There is the Bishop of Beauvais, clinging to the shelter of thickets. What building What building is that which hands so rapid are raising? Is it a martyr's scaffold? Will they burn the child of Domrémy a second time? No: it is a tribunal that rises to the clouds. Shall my Lord of Beauvais sit again upon the judgmentseat, and again number the hours for the innocent? Ah no! he is the prisoner at the bar. Already all is waiting: the mighty audience is gathered, the Court is hurrying to their seats, the witnesses are arrayed, the judge is taking his place. My lord, have you no counsel? "Counsel I have none: in heaven above, or on earth beneath, counsellor there is none now that would take a brief from me: all are silent." Is it, indeed, come to this? Alas! the time is short, the tumult is wondrous, the crowd stretches away into infinity, but yet I will search in it for somebody to take your brief; I know of somebody that will be your counsel. Who is this that cometh from Domrémy? Who is she in bloody coronation robes from Rheims? Who is she that cometh with blackened flesh from walking the furnaces of Rouen? This is she, the shepherd girl, counsellor that had none for herself, whom I choose, bishop, for yours. She it is, I engage, that shall take my lord's brief. She it is, bishop, that would plead for you: yes, bishop, SHE—when heaven and earth are silent. PANCRATIUS By CARDINAL WISEMAN NOTE. The selection following has been adapted from Fabiola, or The Church of the Catacombs, a tale by Cardinal Wiseman. Pancratius, one of the early Christian martyrs, was a boy of fourteen at the time the story opens and was but little older at his death. At school his nobility incurred the enmity of Corvinus, whose hatred lead to the early denunciation of Pancratius. When the Roman emperor decided to exterminate the Christians and sought to publish the bloody edict, Pancratius in a perilous attempt succeeded in tearing down and burning the royal proclamation. Corvinus had a narrow escape from the emperor's wrath, and his hatred of Pancratius increased. Unable to secure another victim, Corvinus seized his old schoolmaster and gave him up to torture and death at the hands of his pupils. On his return from this bloody expedition, Corvinus, drunken and reckless, was thrown from his chariot into a canal and would have drowned had not Pancratius rescued him. At that time Pancratius recovered the knife with which he had cut down the edict and which was kept by Corvinus as evidence against the young Christian. Ignorant of his rescuer's name, Corvinus still sought for Pancratius, and this selection shows how he succeeded. A T LENGTH they came near one of the chambers which flanked the eastern side of the longer arm of the hall.' In one of them they saw a number of convicts (if we must use the term) resting after their labor. The center of the group was an old man, most venerable in appearance, with a long white beard streaming on his breast, mild in aspect, gentle in word, cheerful in his feeble action. It was the confessor Saturninus, now in his eightieth year, yet loaded with two heavy chains. At each side were the more youthful laborers, Cyriacus and Sisinnius, of whom it is recorded, that in addition to their own task-work, one on each side, they bore up his bonds. Indeed, we are told that their particular delight was, over and above their own assigned portion of toil, to help their weaker brethren, and perform their work for them. Several other captives lay on the ground about the old man's feet, as he, seated on a block of marble, was talking to them with a sweet gravity, which riveted their attention, and seemed to make them forget their sufferings. What was he saying to them? Was he requiting Cyriacus for his extraordinary charity by telling him that, in commemoration of it, a portion of the immense pile which they were toiling to raise would be dedicated to God under his invocation, become a title, and close its line of titulars by an illustrious name? Or was 1. Corvinus and his companion are searching among the Christian captives at work on the baths of Diocletian for suitable men to fight the lions in the amphitheater. he recounting another more glorious vision, how this smaller oratory was to be superseded and absorbed by a glorious temple in honour of the Queen of Angels, which should comprise that entire superb hall, with its vestibule, under the directing skill of the mightiest artistic genius that the world should ever see? What more consoling thought could have been vouchsafed to those poor oppressed captives than that they were not so much erecting baths for the luxury of a heathen people, or the prodigality of a wicked emperor, as in truth building up one of the stateliest churches in which the true God is worshiped, and the Virgin Mother, who bore Him incarnate, is affectionately honoured? From a distance Corvinus saw the group, and pausing, asked the superintendent the names of those who composed it. He enumerated them readily; then added, "You may as well take that old man, if you like; for he is not worth his keep so far as work goes." "Thank you," replied Corvinus; “a pretty figure he would cut in the amphitheater. The people are not to be put off with decrepit old creatures, whom a single stroke of a bear's or tiger's paw kills outright. They like to see young blood flowing, and plenty of life struggling against wounds and blows before death comes to decide the contest. But there is one there whom you have not named. His face is turned from us; he has not the prisoner's garb, nor any kind of fetter. Who can it be?" 2. Michelangelo. The noble and beautiful church of Sta. Maria degli Angeli was made by him out of the central hall and circular vestibule. The floor was afterwards raised, and thus the pillars were shortened and the height of the building diminished by several feet. "I do not know his name," answered Rabirius; "but he is a fine youth, who spends much of his time among the convicts, relieves them and even at times helps them in their work. He pays, of course, well for being allowed all this; so it is not our business to ask questions." "But it is mine, though," said Corvinus sharply; and he advanced for this purpose. The voice caught the stranger's ear, and he turned round to look. Corvinus sprang upon him with the eye and action of a wild beast, seized him, and called out with exultation, "Fetter him instantly. This time, at least, Pancratius, thou shalt not escape.' Pancratius, with some twenty more, fettered and chained together, was led through the streets to prison. As they were thus dragged along, staggering and stumbling helplessly, they were unmercifully struck by the guards who conducted them; and any persons near enough to reach them dealt them blows and kicks without remorse. Those further off pelted them with stones or offal, and assailed them with insulting ribaldry. They reached the Mamertine prison at last, and were thrust down into it, and found there already other victims, of both sexes, awaiting their time of sacrifice. The youth had just time, while he was being handcuffed, to request one of the captors to inform his mother and Sebastian of what had happened; and he slipt his purse into his hand. A prison in ancient Rome was not the place to which a poor man might court committal, hoping there to enjoy better fare and lodging than he did at home. Two or three of these dungeons, for they |