not to be at peace all the day. Now when it was noon the steward could no longer remain in the palace, but he hastened to the lime-kilns, and demanded of the lime-burners "whether they had performed the emperor's will."

"Not yet," cried they with hoarse voices, "but no fear, master; it shall be done forthwith."

With these words, one of the men seized Malitius, and hurried with him in their arms to the mouth of the kiln.

"Mercy, mercy, good sirs," cried the steward, "it is Fulgentius you should burn; not me."

"Ha! ha!" laughed the lime-burners;

66 we know neither

thee, nor Fulgentius; thou art the first man that has come here this day and asked us, 'Whether we have done the emperor's will:' so peace, man, peace. Ha! ha! his will is done."

So Malitius died in the fire.

It was past noon when Fulgentius awoke, and the sun was going down in its course.

"Alas! alas!" he said, "I have delayed to perform my lord's will."

And he hastened through the wood, and came to the lime-kilns. "What wantest thou, boy?" asked the chief of the limeburners.

"Tell me, tell me, sirs," asked Fulgentius anxiously, "hast thou performed the command of the emperor?"

“Ay, my lad, right well; come, look into the furnace—and see, his bones yet burn."

"His bones; whose bones, sirs ?" asked Fulgentius, aghast with fear.

Then they told him all that had been commanded them, and how Malitius coming first to the lime-kilns had been cast into the fire and burnt.

"Thanks be to God," said the youth devoutly kneeling, "who hath saved me from this terrible death;" with these words he bade the burners farewell, and returned to his uncle's palace.

"Hah," said the emperor, when Fulgentius bowed himself before his uncle's throne, "thou here, sir varlet; hast thou not been to my lime-burners ?"

“Verily, my lord, I have been there and performed thy commandment: but before I came your will had been performed.' "Performed," rejoined the emperor, "how performed? Malitius; is he not here?"

"No, my lord, he is burnt in the lime-kiln," replied the youth; "he came first to the kiln, and the burners obeyed your commands, and he is dead, and I have escaped. But, O my dear uncle, how couldest thou contrive such a death for thy poor nephew!" and he wept bitterly.

Then did they each declare to the other the deceits of the wicked steward; and the emperor raised up the youth, and acknowledged him before all his people, as his very true and good nephew, his heir and successor to the throne; rendering thanks to God who had preserved the uncle from so deadly a sin against his relative, and the nephew from so horrible a death.

"The German poet has been equally successful in his amendments with Parnell," said Herbert.

"In none more so," said Thompson, "than in substituting in the place of the unpleasant bodily affection, the more courtly failing of jealousy excited in the mind of the knight by the malice of the huntsman Robert."

"Was it then from this old book, or from some similar tradition of his own country, that Schiller obtained his incidents ?" asked Herbert.

"It is impossible to determine; it is said that Schiller learnt his plot from an Alsatian legend that he heard at Manheim; and yet the similarity of the incident renders it more than probable that the poet was aquainted with this form of the tale. The story as it appears in the monks' books, and the tradition of Alsace most probably started from the same original, which, being immediately written down by the monk, we now have in its original form. The tradition went on from mouth to mouth, and became gradually varied to suit the popular feelings."

"Your instances of conversion, Lathom," said Thompson, "remind me of Washington Irving's vision in the library of the British Museum, when all the old writers leapt down from their shelves and despoiled the moderns of the patchwork garments, made of the shreds of countless writers, and left them plucked of their borrowed plumes."

"Nay," replied Lathom, "rather of those few who had borrowed gems from the writers of old, and by new setting and repolishing, so improved their original lustre, that the former owner was eager to tender his thanks to his modern adapter, who had renewed his long lost glories."

"I am afraid your old monks would have had as many to pluck of their borrowed plumes, as to compliment on their ingenuity as working jewellers," said Thompson.

"The process of recovery would be curious in some cases," said Herbert: "the modern adapter would have to settle with Lydgate or Gower; the old poet would resign his title to the middle-age monk or chronicler; and he perhaps be finally stripped of his gem by some eastern fabler."

"Be sure that Shakspeare, Parnell, and Schiller would meet with more thanks than reproaches," was Lathom's reply, as he closed his book for that evening.

CHAPTER VI.

Curiosities of the Gesta-THE WICKED PRIEST-The Qualities of the Dog-THE EMPEROR'S DAUGHTER, Curious Application-THE EMPEROR LEO AND THE THREE IMAGES -An Enigma.

"THE use Shakspeare has made of your monks' tales, would seem to augur a certain popularity of the work in the days in which he wrote," said Herbert, when the friends met on their sixth evening.

"A greater popularity than will now be credited: in the reign of Elizabeth and her successor, the Gesta Romanorum seems to have been sufficiently well known to admit of a frequent reference to it on the stage," replied Lathom. "Allusions to the work, not incidents from it," asked Herbert.

"Yes, in the anonymous comedy of Sir Giles' Goose Cap, published early in James's reign, one of the characters speaks of the 'quips and quick jests of his lordship as so good, that Gesta Romanorum were nothing to them;' whilst Chapman in his 'May-Day,' which dates in 1611, says, 'one that has read Marcus Aurelius, Gesta Romanorum, and the Mirror of Magistrates, to be led by the nose like a blind bear that has read nothing!""

"The slightest knowledge of the accomplishments of the Tudor and early Stuart times, compels us to admit the extensive acquaintance with Latin writers, possessed by classes, to whom now they seem so little fitted," remarked Herbert.

"An acquaintance arising in all probability from the absence of a native literature, as well as from the position held by the Latin language in that age; the French of the present generation," rejoined Thompson.

"Whose conversions have we to-night?" asked Herbert.

“Not any: not that my catalogue is run out, but partly because I have not been able to keep up with the speed of our reading; and partly because I wished to illustrate the moralizations attached to the tales, which we have lately rather lost sight of."

"What peculiar doctrine are you intending to illustrate?" asked Herbert. "The 26th article of our Church, that the effect of the ordinance is not taken away, nor the grace of God's gifts diminished by the ministration of evil men;" it is the story of

THE WICKED PRIEST.

IN the reign of Otho there was a certain wicked priest who created much dissatisfaction among his parishioners; and many

were extremely scandalized. One of them, in particular, always absented himself from the mass when it was the turn of this priest to celebrate it. Now it happened on a festival day, during the time of mass, that as this person was walking alone through a meadow, a sudden thirst came upon him, insomuch that he was persuaded, unless present relief could be obtained, he should die.

In this extremity continuing his walk, he discovered a rivulet of the purest water, of which he copiously drank; but the more he drank, the more violent became his thirst. Surprised at so unusual a circumstance, he said to himself,

"I will find out the source of this rivulet, and there will I satisfy my thirst."

With these thoughts he went up the stream. And as he went, a venerable old man met and asked him whither he was going.

"Father," he replied, "I am oppressed with an unquenchable thirst, and even now I drank of this rivulet; but lo, the more I drink, so much the more I thirst; and I now seek its source, if, perchance, I may there quench my thirst, and not die."

The old man pointed with his finger, "There," said he, “is the spring-head of the rivulet. But tell me, my honest friend, why are you not at church, and, with other good Christians, hearing

mass?"

"Truly, master, "answered the 66 man, our priest leads such an execrable life, that I think it utterly impossible that he should celebrate it so as to please God."

"Suppose what you say is true," replied the old man; "observe this fountain, from which so much excellent water issues, and from which you have so lately drunk."

He looked in the direction pointed out, and beheld a putrid dog, with its mouth wide open, and its teeth black and decayed, through which the whole fountain gushed in a surprising manner. The man regarded the stream with terror and confusion of mind, ardently desirous of quenching his thirst, but apprehensive of poison from the fœtid and loathsome carcass, with which, to all appearance, the water was imbued.

"Be not afraid," said the old man, observing his repugnance,