fastened it upon a sharp stick, and roasted it at the fire apart. Contrary to order, they were about to secure his clothes, but the elector made them cast them also into the fire, promising to indemnify them for the loss. After which his ashes were carefully gathered up and thrown into the Rhine, lest his disciples should carry them into Bohemia for relics. But if we may believe the same historian, this precaution was of no use, for his followers scraped the very earth of the place where he was burned, and carried it as a very precious cargo to Prague, where he was held in almost as great veneration as St. Peter or St. Paul.

The same writer says, "he went to the stake as to a banquet; not a word fell from him which discovered the least faint-heartedness. In the midst of the flames he sung hymns to the last gasp, without ceasing. Never did any philosopher suffer death with so much constancy as he endured the flames."

The stranger in Constance is now forcibly reminded of these days of tyranny and persecution, by many objects well calculated to make a lasting impression upon the mind; amongst which are the Hall of the Council, the Cathedral, and the Augustine Convent. The hall, the windows of which command a beautiful view of the lake, still contains the chairs occupied by the Emperor and the Pope during the long sitting of the council, the canopy of tapestry, the bible of John Huss, and numerous other relics of that eventful time, and of the distinguished individuals connected with it. It is said, that the signature of Huss is only of recent discovery, and was made on accidentally splitting open the boards of the sacred volume, between which it had been ingeniously concealed, but not obliterated. The pulpit of the cathedral is supported by a statue of the heresiarch, as Huss was designated by his persecutors, and the spot

where he received sentence is marked by a brass plate, inserted into a flat stone of extraordinary dimensions. The Franciscan convent, in a turret of which Huss was first immured, is now a ruin; and the Dominican convent to which he was afterwards conveyed, where a cell above ground appeared too great an indulgence for a denounced heretic, is also a desecrated ruin, being used only as a manufactory.

Amid the same scenes where art has done much to commemorate the martyr's death, and time has done more to obliterate all trace of his existence, amid the same scenes, stands the majestic tree, under whose shade the traveller reposes, and perhaps in fancy traces out the fate of men and nations, the fall of empires and the establishment of thrones, the overthrow of false systems, and the gradual working out of the principles of truth, with all the great events, national and political, which have transpired since that scene was lighted by the blazing faggots, in the midst of which the martyr sung his death-song of triumph, and praise, and glory to his Redeemer and his God.

"The Saviour stood by him in pain,

Nor left him in sorrow forlorn ;

And mitred blasphemers and monarchs in vain
Heaped on him their hatred and scorn.

He was meek as the innocent child,

He was firm as the storm-stricken rock,

And so humbly he prayed, and so gently he smiled,
And so sweet were the words that he spoke,
That the murderous keepers who guarded their prey,
Could weep for the man they were marshall'd to slay."

-Hon. and Rev. B. W. Noel.