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Philip When this object arose in his sight, Henry's heart was o'ercome with surprise and delight. "Moderate," observed Louis, "the transports hell. As the buman race is renewed about

on the earth. The number of Catholics is 50,000,000; if the twentieth part are of the elect, that is saying a great deal. Then there are 947,500,000 men doomed to the endless pains of

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every twenty years, taking one time with another, the times of the greatest populat on with the least, counting only 6,000 years from the creation, there are already 300 times 947.000,000 of damned. Moreover the Jewish nation having been a hundred times less than the Catholic, that augments the number of the damned prodigiously. Well might Henry IV. shed tears.

To inflict on his creatures, etc. In this pasgage we may understand venial sins and purgatory. The ancients admitted of one, as may be seen in Virgil.

6 Here Louis the Twelfth. Louis XII. is the only king who had the surname of Father of the people.

7 La Tremonille, etc. Among the great men of that name, Guy de Tremonille is here intended, surnamed the Valiant. He carried the royal standard, and refused the sword of constable under Charles VI. Clisson was constable under Charles VI.

Montmorenci, etc. It would require a volume to state all the services rendered to the State by that house.

Gaston de Foix, Duke of Nemours, nephew of Louis XII., was killed at the famous battle of

On awaking, the prince feels pervading his Ravenna, in Italy.
frame

A force yet unknown and a heavenly flame.
Reverential fear now his features inspire,
And God stamped his brow with celestial fire.
Thus when Israel's avenger from Pharaoh's
hard rod,

On Sinai's mountain held converse with God,
From the Hebrews his face he was forced to ob-

scure,

As the light of his features they could not endure.

(Concluded.)

NOTES TO CANTO VII.

Whether or not we admit the theory of Sir Isaac Newton, it is certain that the celestial bodies in their periodical approaches or distances appear to attract and repel each other.

*And still of Zoroaster, etc. In Persia the Guebres have a separate religion, which they pretend to be the religion founded by Zoroas ter, and which appears less silly than other superstitions, since they worship the sun as an image of the Creator.

While leaguers invoke, etc. The parricide James Clement was eulogized in Rome from the pulpit, when the funeral oration of Henry III. ought to have been delivered. His portrait was placed on the altar with the Eucharist. The Cardinal de Retz says, on the day of the barricades in the minority of Louis XIV., he saw a citizen wear a gorget on which was an engraving of the monk, with these words, Saint James Clement.

That numerous race, etc. It is reckoned there are more than 950,000,000 of inhabitants

Gueslin, constable, saved France under Charles V., conquered Castile, placed Henry of Transtamaro on the throne of Peter the Cruel, and was constable of France and Castile.

8 The virtuous Bayard and you brave Amazon, etc. Bayard, surnamed the Chevalier, without fear and without reproach. He was killed in 1523, in the retreat from Rebec.

Joan of Arc, known as the Maid of Orleans, served at an inn. She was born in the village of Domremi. Possessing a strength of body and boldness above her sex, she was employed by the Count of Dunois to restore the affairs of Charles VII. She was captured in a sortie at Compiegne in 1430, carried to Rouen and condemned by an ecclesiastical court equally ignorant and barbarous as a witch, and burnt by the English, who ought to have honored her courage.

9 By art one escapes, etc. Cardinal Mazarin was obliged to leave the kingdom in 1651, in spite of the queen-regent, whom he ruled; but Cardinal Richelieu always sustained himself in spite of his enemies, and even of the king, who was disgusted with him.

10 At the foot, etc. This refers to Louis XIV. 11 How from all nations, etc. The Academy of Sciences, whose transactions are esteemed throughout all nations.

12 Amidst a thousand of fires, etc. Louis of Bourbon generally called the great Conde, and Henry, Viscount of Turenne, have been esteemed the greatest captains of their age. Both gained great victories and acquired glory even in their defeats. The genius of the Prince of Conde, it is said, was more fit for the day of battle and that of Turenne for the campaign. At least it is certain that Turenne had the advantage of Conde at Gien, Etampes, Paris, Arras and the battle of Dunes; still one would

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THE SPY OF THE MISSISSIPPI.
By Mrs. C. M. Sawyer.
CHAPTER IX.

UNUSUAL quiet prevailed in the beleaguered city of Vicksburg. The calm May moon emerged from the clouds which had for so many nights obscured her, looked serenely down on the ruined dwellings and streets torn and furrowed by shot and shell, and on the sleeping gunboats which lay black and motionless on the bosom of the turbid river which swept sluggishly by. Not a shot had fallen for many hours, and the inhabitants for the first time in many days and nights had ventured forth from their caves, some to pay a flying visit of pleasure or condolence to friend or neighbor, some to enjoy the clear, bracing air of the sweet May night, and some to climb the court-house hill that, from that commanding elevation, they might note the signs of siege in front and rear of the city. But their explorations over, they had all returned to their underground houses, and now, availing themselves of the long unwonted safety and stillness, were buried in profound slumber.

It must have seemed strange, that stillness succeeding to the terrors and uproar of the long bombardment! You could hear the wash of the waves stealing up from the river as they curled and eddied round the stern of the gunboats; and the heaving of the uprooted trees that surged up and down in the shallow channel, dangerous enemies lurking ready to destroy the unwary steamer which should attempt a passage over them. You could distinctly hear the call of the distant sentinel as he challenged some passer-by, and the clang of sabres against projecting curb-stones as the patrols paced up and down the moonlit streets. But all else was silent, and, but for the moon, all would have been dark; for the expense of lights had long been recognized and duly respected by the city fathers, while closed wooden shutters everywhere barricaded the windows of those, if any such there were, who were brave enough to still remain domiciliated in their houses. A faint glimmer, somewhat like that of a glowworm, here and there shone up from

the ground, betokening that illness or death was busy in some of the caves with which every hillside and slope of the city was honeycombed. The clocks of the steeples rang out hour after hour with a loud clang, but were heard only by the sentinels on guard, or the fevered and wounded soldier in hospital wards, or the trembling and weary mother watching by the bedside of her sick child in the unwholesome retreat underground. And so, as the night waned, the weary and terrorworn people slept on.

But from one dwelling, a large and elegant mansion crowning one of the beautiful elevations of the hill-city, and from amidst the noble trees which embowered it, a clear and steady light shone out long after the midnight hour was passed. It seemed almost like a beacon-star, so brilliant was its effulgence. The guards of the city as they took their hourly patrol stopped and gazed at it, wondering what of moment and mystery was transpiring by its telltale rays, at a time when, if ever, sleep should be wooed by every dweller of that melancholy town. The watch on the gunboat, as he tumbled up from below, stopped to gaze, thinking in his half-awake fancies that some new star was rising in the east.

A lady, heavy-eyed and tearful, stood by the window above it, watching its steady shine upon the green leaves which shivered and trembled in the occasional night-gust that lifted their spectral shapes; and she, too, wondered who so long and so stilly held conclave together; for she had watched it from ten of the clock until now it was near the dawn, and knew that during all those hours the two men whom she had seen stealthily enter the house still sat talking with her host, for the murmur of voices came up from below, sometimes scarce above a whisper and sometimes excited and angry. Her bed lay white and unpressed, the rich embroidery of its linen still smooth and dainty and without wrinkle, showing that her head had not touched its pillow, for how could she sleep when her own life and perhaps that of her friend hung trembling in the balance?

It was Florence. She had been re

morselessly carried by the old physician who had arrested her to the headquarters of the commander of the Confederate army of Vicksburg, and had for hours been subjected to a searching and unsparing examination by him. But complicated and precarious as she knew her situation to be, she had stood the ordeal well, and, nerved and inspired by the exigencies of the occasion, had answered his questions in a way which, if she did not exonerate herself from the suspicion of treason, at least left the matter in such shape as to render it difficult for her examiner to venture on pronouncing her guilty. Perhaps the remembrance of old friendships, and the days when Florence had seemed like a daughter to him, was not without its effect in inducing a favorable judgment. But she knew that if but half her acts during the last six months were known, acts of fidelity to the government she honored and to the old beloved flag, in spite of all the friendship her examiner cherished for her and hers, an hour would not intervene before what he would pronounce deadly treason would be punished if not with death, with rigorous imprisonment. She thought of her helpless children, left unprotected, save by a servant, in the cave, of their forlorn condition, should she never return to them, and of their poverty and sorrow should her property be confiscated, as it assuredly would, should she finally be condemned even as a friend to the Union cause. She thought of Carleton lying helpless and wounded, his only chance now between a prison and death, and she the cause of it all, and she wept and wept as women will weep, until her tears refused to flow.

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"But I must rest I must sleep," she said to herself at last. "This will not do. I am unfitting myself for all I may have to undergo, and shaming the bravery and courage I have tried to exercise. Whatever may be before me, I will sleep now. It will renovate body and brain and spirit. O God! thou hast promised that as my day is so shall my strength be, and I will trust in thy word. I have done only my duty, and if I die, it will be for my country."

With something of serenity and calm, she turned from the window before which the wavering light still lay, and throwing herself upon the bed, wrapped a soft, fleecy blanket about her and, worn out by fatigue and long watching, was soon in a quiet and deep sleep.

Florence had much of that self-poise and self-control possessed by so few women, which enabled her to throw off care and trouble in great emergencies, as it were, at will. I have often wondered how men on the eve of execution could, as they are said to do, eat a full supper with apparently the greatest relish, even zest, and then lie down to sleep as soundly as a child until morning, to awake and ascend the gallows. But perhaps this is easier than it might be supposed to have been for Florence; for with them all suspense is ended and they know their fate, while over her the harrowing uncertainty of what awful doom the morrow might usher in for her and hers hung dark and boding. It was a situation like his who hangs at night over a precipice, suspended by his fingers' ends, whose clutch may at any moment give way, and he be precipitated into the fathomless depths of some unknown gulf. It is hardly possible to appreciate the awful anxiety of such a situation. But Florence had been through dangers before. She had learned to face them like a hero, and perhaps the very magnitude of her present ones calmed her, as the awful violence of the hurricane flattens the waves which a lesser storm had lashed to the most terrific fury.

And she slept, little dreaming what developments concerning herself were going on beneath her. She knew she was sorely suspected, but had no idea how legibly the map of her life for the last six months was being traced out. If she had, she would hardly have slept, weary as she was and full of bravery. She was not decided as to her position in the house where she now was. A guest of General Pemberton by courtesy, she knew that she was a prisoner in fact. There were no bars to her windows, nor a sentinel outside her chamber door. She seemed free to come and go through all

its rooms, its kind and hospitable lady showing her every attention; but she was acute enough to perceive that not a step she took but was covertly watched, and she knew that, did she venture to put her foot on the threshold of the outer door, a bayonet would bar her way. But in spite of this she slept.

Meantime, the light still streamed through the window and over the silent roof of many a shattered dwelling. The men who were gathered around it were, as Florence had surmised, three in number, her host, a Confederate leader of high rank, Dr. Gates, the physician before introduced, and a man in citizen's gray dress. The latter was somewhat striking in appearance, not from anything noble in bearing or expression, but from the peculiarly furtive and crafty look which, as the two others sat intently engaged in a low-toned conversation, he from time to time threw upon them. The brow of the officer, who was no less a personage than General Pemberton, was knit into a deep frown, and lines of pain distorted his whole face.

"Do you mean me to believe this?" said the general, suddenly looking Dr. Gates full in the face, while an almost indignant expression settled upon his own. "I do," replied the latter firmly and distinctly.

"That she is a traitor?"
That she is a traitor!

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"That is an accusation which will require the most irrefragable proofs to induce belief in me." And the blood mounted slowly to the pale brow of the officer.

"They can be easily furnished, I have a right to say. There are proofs that she has been for a series of weeks, even months, ever since the siege of the city commenced indeed, a watchful, unscrupulous informer to the enemy."

"You are credulous and believe in magic," laughed the general bitterly. "How could a young and gentle woman like her find the opportunity, even if she had the will, to learn our secrets, to say nothing of the still greater difficulty of betraying them? I confess you put my faith to a severe test."

"You forget that she has until a very Besides, he could hear nothing at that disshort time lived on her plantation." tance."

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"There is no evidence that it was not delivered to the general himself. And if it were not, surely, you are not so mad as to suppose that Florence, the widow of my dearest friend, could have done it. There is no possibility that she could have known anything in relation to it. You would prove her abler than my ablest scouts."

"Do you remember a French boy that was several times at your headquarters, and with whom you were SO much pleased ?'"

"What Jean Delong?"
"The same."

"Well, what of him? What has he to do with Florence McAlpine?

"Simply that they are one and the same."

The Confederate leader stared in undisguised amazement, more inclined to doubt the doctor's sanity than anything else.

"You look amazed, but it is true."
"But the evidence?"

"Here I resign the matter to this gentleman," said Dr. Gates, pointing to the man who sat at some distance from the other two, as if he had been intended to be out-of-hearing distance. "He is connected with the secret service, and very reliable I have reason to believe."

The general turned square round and looking the man full in the face, crisply said,

"He is a spy then? I supposed him a friend of yours. It was indiscreet," he continued, turning to the doctor, "to have him present at our counsels."

"Oh, he is the most honest of fellows.

"I am much mistaken if he has not heard every word we have been saying. Look at him now.

A vivid glow mounted to the cheeks of the man thus inspected, and a curious smile that was instantly suppressed, flitted over his lips.

The doctor colored as he met the eye of the general.

"You will draw nearer," said the latter in a loud voice.

"You are a spy?" he coldly inquired, as the man obeyed the command.

"I am in the secret service, sir."
"Have I ever met you before?"

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Why, sir, it would not do for us to be always the same man. I has to change myself, or else people 'ud know me sometimes wan it warnt convenient. I'se sometimes a Methodist parson, sometimes a poor contraband what's runnin' away from an orful massa, and sometimes I'm a kind o' backwoodsman sellin' wud, ye know, and, oftener still, a plain, homespun sort o' fellow like I look now."

It is impossible to describe the different tones and gestures employed by the man during this explanation. So exactly did he suit his manner and speech to the character he mentioned, it was easy to see that his impersonation of each must have been perfect. The general, disgusted as he was, could not forbear a smile. But instantly suppressing it, he inquired, "And what are you in your own natural shape?"

"Oh, I am this, sir; " and with wonderful celerity coat, vest, hair, and huge rotundity were removed, and the awkward, clownish, obese man stood before the Confederate officer, a slender, lithe, active, and not ungraceful youth.

"Redman! A wonderful metamorphosis, truly. You may well say that I know you. But I did not give you credit for such protean talent as I see. But where have you been lately? I have not seen you for many weeks."

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