the precipice. With a powerful exertion of strength which I was no longer able to resist he dashed my body over the dreadful edge and held me out at arm's length above the dread abyss. The agony of years of wretchedness compressed into a single second could not have exceeded the horror of the moment I remained suspended. There was a small tree or bush which grew out of a cleft just beneath the ledge; in my frenzied struggle I caught by a branch of it just at the critical instant when the Spaniard relaxed his hold, intending to precipitate me down the fearful gulf. His purpose was again baffled for another moment of horror. He gnashed his teeth as he saw me swing off upon the fragile branch, which cracked and bent beneath my weight, and which, at most, could save me from his fury but for a fleeting moment. That moment seemed too long for his impatient hate; he sprang to the very verge of the ledge, and, placing his foot firmly on the tree, pressed it down with all his strength. In vain with chattering teeth and horror-choked voice I implored him to desist. He answered not, but stamped furiously on the tree. The root began to give way, the loosened dirt fell from around it, the trunk snapped, cracked and separated, and the fiend set up an inhuman laugh which rang in my ears like the mocking of a demon as down, down, down, I fell through the chill, thick, pitchy air, till, striking with a mighty force on the rocks beneath I waked, and, lo! it was a dream. It was broad daylight. In my sleep I had rolled from the heap of stones which had furnished me with my evening seat of meditation, and which during my sleep had sup plied my imagination with an abundance of materials for horrid precipices and "deepdown gulfs." The laugh of the infernal Spaniard turned out to be only a burst of innocent merriment at my plight from little Paul Messenger, a rosy, curly-haired midshipman, and one of the finest little fellows in the world. The matter was soon explained. The commodore, returning to the boat and seeing me, as he expressed it, sleeping so comfortably on a bed of my own choosing, thought it would be a pity. to disturb me; so, shoving off, he left me to my slumbers, but on reaching the ship gave the officer of the deck directions to send a boat for me at daylight. Little Paul, always ready to do a kind act, asked to go officer of her, and we returned together to the frigate laughing over my story of the imaginary adventures of the night. CHIVALRY. FROM "VIEW OF THE STATE OF EUROPE DURING THE MIDDLE AGES.' HE best school of moral disci- | monies of knighthood. There was even in pline which the Middle Ages that remote age a sort of public trial as to afforded was the institution the fitness of the candidate which, though of chivalry. There is some- perhaps confined to his bodily strength and thing, perhaps, to allow for activity, might be the germ of that refined the partiality of modern wri- investigation which was thought necessary ters upon this interesting sub- in the perfect stage of chivalry. Proofs, ject, yet our most sceptical though rare and incidental, might be adduced criticism must assign a de- to show that in the time of Charlemagne, cisive influence to this great and even earlier, the sons of monarchs, at source of human improve- least, did not assume manly arms without ment. The more deeply it a regular investiture, and in the eleventh is considered, the more we shall become sen- century it is evident that this was a gensible of its importance. eral practice. There are, if I may so say, three powerful spirits which have from time to time moved over the face of the waters and given a predominant impulse to the moral sentiments and energies of mankind: these are the spirits of liberty, of religion and of honor. It was the principal business of chivalry to animate and cherish the last of these three, and whatever high magnanimous energy the love of liberty or religious zeal has ever imparted was equalled by the exquisite sense of honor which this institution preserved. It appears probable that the custom of receiving arms at the age of manhood with some solemnity was of immemorial antiquity among the nations that overthrew the Roman empire, for it is mentioned by Tacitus to have prevailed among their German ancestors, and his expressions might have been used with no great variation to describe the actual cere This ceremony, however, would perhaps of itself have done little toward forming that intrinsic principle which characterized the genuine chivalry, but in the reign of Charlemagne we find a military distinction that appears, in fact as well as in name, to have given birth to that institution. Certain feudal tenants, and I suppose also alodial proprietors, were bound to serve on horseback, equipped with the coat of mail. These were called "Caballarii," from which the word "chevaliers" is an obvious corruption. But he who fought on horseback and had been invested with peculiar arms in a solemn manner wanted nothing more to render him a knight. Chivalry, therefore, may, in a general sense, be referred to the age of Charlemagne. We may, however, go farther and observe that these distinctive advantages above ordinary combatants were ( ( probably the sources of that remarkable | unlike what we sometimes read of Arabian chiefs or the North American Indians. These nations, so nations, so widely remote from each other, seem to partake of that moral energy which among European nations far remote from both of them was excited by the spirit of chivalry. But the most beautiful picture that was ever portrayed of this character is the Achilles of Homer, the representative of chivalry in its most general form, with all its sincerity and unyielding rectitude, all its courtesies and munificence. Calmly indifferent to the cause in which he is engaged, and contemplating with a serious and unshaken look the premature death that awaits him, his heart only beats for glory and friendship. To this sublime character, bating that imaginary completion by which the creations of the poet, like those of the sculptor, transcend all single works of nature, there were probably many parallels in the ages of chivalry, especially before a set education and the refinements of society had altered a little the natural unadulterated warrior of a ruder period. One illustrious example from this earlier age is the Cid Ruy Diaz, whose history has fortunately been preserved much at length in several chronicles of ancient date and in one valuable poem; and though I will not say that the Spanish hero is altogether a counterpart of Achilles in gracefulness and urbanity, yet was he inferior to none that ever lived in frankness, honor and magnanimity. valor and that keen thirst for glory which became the essential attributes of a knightly character, for confidence in our skill and strength is the usual foundation of courage: it is by feeling ourselves able to surmount common dangers that we become adventurous enough to encounter those of a more extraordinary nature, and to which more glory is attached. The reputation of superior personal prowess, so difficult to be attained in the course of modern warfare, and so liable to erroneous representations, was always within the reach of the stoutest knight, and was founded on claims which could be measured with much accuracy. Such is the subordination and mutual dependence in a modern army that every man must be content to divide his glory with his comrades, his general or his soldiers, but the soul of chivalry was individual honor, coveted in so entire and absolute a perfection that it must not be shared with an army or a nation. Most of the virtues it inspired were what we may call independent, as opposed to those which are founded upon social relations. The knights-errant of romance perform their best exploits from the love of renown or from a sort of abstract sense of justice rather than from any solicitude to promote the happiness of mankind. If these springs of action are less generally beneficial, they are, however, more connected with elevation of character than the systematical prudence of men accustomed to social life. This solitary and independent spirit of chivalry, dwelling, as it were, upon a rock, and disdaining injustice or falsehood from a consciousness of internal dignity, without any calculation of their consequences, is not In the first state of chivalry it was closely connected with the military service of fiefs. The Caballarii in the Capitularies, the Milites of the eleventh and twelfth centuries, were landholders who followed their lord or sovereign into the field. A certain value of | could not claim as his legal right, became land was termed in England a knight's fee, or in Normandy feudum lorica, fief de haubert, from the coat of mail which it entitled and required the tenant to wear; a military tenure was said to be by service in chivalry. To serve as knights, mounted and equipped, was the common duty of vassals: it implied no personal merit; it gave of itself a claim to no civil privileges. But this knight-service founded upon a feudal obligation is to be carefully distinguished from that superior chivalry in which all was independent and voluntary. The latter, in fact, could hardly flourish in its full perfection till the military service of feudal tenure began to decline namely, in the thirteenth century. The origin of this personal chivalry I should incline to refer to the ancient usage of voluntary commendation. Men commended themselves —that is, did homage and professed attachment to a prince or lord; generally, indeed, for protection or the hope of reward, but sometimes, probably, for the sake of distinguishing themselves in his quarrels. When they received pay, which must have been the usual case, they were literally his soldiers or stipendiary troops. Those who could afford to exert their valor without recompense were like the knights of whom we read in romance who served a foreign master through love or thirst of glory or gratitude. The extreme poverty of the lower nobility, arising from the subdivision of fiefs and the politic generosity of rich lords, made this connection as strong as that of territorial dependence. A younger brother leaving the paternal estate, in which he took a slender share, might look to wealth and dignity in the service of a powerful count. Knighthood, which he the object of his chief ambition. It raised him in the scale of society, equalling him in dress, in arms and in title to the rich landholders. As it was due to his merit, it did much more than equal him to those who had no pretensions but from wealth, and the territorial knights became by degrees ashamed of assuming the title till they could challenge it by real desert. This class of noble and gallant cavaliers, serving commonly for pay, but on the most honorable footing, became far more numerous through the crusades-a great epoch in the history of European society. In these wars, as all feudal service was out of the question, it was necessary for the richer barons to take into their pay as many knights as they could afford to maintain, speculating, so far as such motives operated, on an influence with the leaders of the expedition and on a share of plunder proportioned to the number of their followers. During the period of the crusades we find the institution of chivalry acquire its full vigor as an order of personal nobility, and its original connection with feudal tenure, if not altogether effaced, became in a great measure forgotten in the splendor and dignity of the new form which it wore. The crusaders, however, changed in more than one respect the character of chivalry. Before that epoch it appears to have had no particular reference to religion. Ingulfus, indeed, tells us that the Anglo-Saxons preceded the ceremony of investure by a confession of their sins and other pious rites, and they received the order at the hands of a priest instead of a knight. But this was derided by the Normans as effeminacy, and seems to have proceeded from the extreme devotion of the English before the Conquest. We can hardly perceive, indeed, why the assumption of arms to be used in butchering mankind should be treated as a religious ceremony. The clergy, to do them justice, constantly opposed the private wars in which the courage of those ages wasted itself, and all bloodshed was subject in strictness to a canonical penance, but the but the purposes for which men bore arms in a crusade so sanctified their use that chivalry acquired the character as much of a religious as a military institution. For many centuries the recovery of the Holy Land was constantly at the heart of a brave and superstitious nobility, and every knight was supposed at his creation to pledge himself, as occasion should arise, to that cause. Meanwhile, the defence of God's law against infidels was his primary and standing duty. A knight, whenever present at mass, held the point of his sword before him while the gospel was read, to signify his readiness to support it. Writers of the Middle Ages compare the knightly to the priestly character in an elaborate parallel, and the investiture of the one was supposed analogous to the ordination of the other. The ceremonies upon this occasion were almost wholly religious. The candidate passed nights in prayer among priests in a church; he received the sacraments; he entered into a bath and was clad with a white robe, in allusion to the presumed purification of his life; his sword was solemnly blessed; everything, in short, was contrived to identify his new condition with the defence of religion, or at least of the Church. To this strong tincture of religion which entered into the composition of chivalry from the twelfth century was added another ingredient equally distinguishing. A great re spect for the female sex had always been a remarkable characteristic of the Northern nations. The German women were high-spirited and virtuous-qualities which might be causes or consequences of the veneration with which they were regarded. I am not sure that we could trace very minutely the condition of women for the period between the subversion of the Roman empire and the first crusade, but apparently man did not grossly abuse his superiority, and in point of civil rights, and even as to the inheritance of property, the two sexes were placed, perhaps, as nearly on a level as the nature of such warlike societies would admit. There seems, however, to have been more roughness in the social intercourse between the sexes than we find in later periods. The spirit of gallantry, which became so animating a principle of chivalry, must be ascribed to the progressive refinement of society during the twelfth and two succeeding centuries. In a rude. state of manners, as among the lower people in all ages, woman has not full scope to display those fascinating graces by which Nature has designed to counterbalance the strength and energy of mankind. Even where those jealous customs that degrade alike the two sexes have not prevailed her lot is domestic seclusion, nor is she fit to share in the boisterous pastimes of drunken merriment to which the intercourse of an unpolished people is confined; but as a taste for the more elegant enjoyment of wealth. arises-a taste which it is always her policy and her delight to nourish-she obtains an ascendency, at first in the lighter hour, and from thence in the serious occupations of life. She chases or brings into subjection the god of wine-a victory which might seem more |