lowers, had fastened upon the leader, the noblest and the best.

In

With slow and mournful steps the chiefs entered the King's sleeping room, and silently ranged themselves at the foot of his couch. The princes, his sons, and brothers were already there, stationed on each side. the midst was Louis, raised and supported by pillows, so that he preserved nearly an upright position :-the effect of his meek, attenuated countenance, heightened by the absence of all royal decoration-a mantle of plain white camblet thrown over his shoulders-his fine grey head entirely uncovered—one hand placed upon his heart, the other resting upon a roll of parchment, his dying counsel to his successor-he rather resembled a patriarch peacefully departing in the presence of his household, than a powerful monarch expiring in a camp, surrounded by warlike barons.

Deep and mournful silence reigned throughout the circle; every eye was fixed upon the King, and tears, the tears, the hard-wrung tears of bearded men fell fast and recklessly. In the breasts of some, the grief was of a personal nature, in that of others it was political; but on one account or another, sorrow lay heavily at the heart of each.

One thought of Louis as the hero, and called to mind the day of Damietta, when, helmed and armed at all points, he sprang boldly from his ship into the sea, his shield depending from his neck, his sword in his hand,

and, despising the waves that beat round him, he cried out to his companions-" we have no time to deliberate, we have time only to conquer."

Another thought of him as the saint, and recalled his entrance into the captured city; when the victorious monarch preceded his warriors barefoot, in the guise, and with the heart of a lowly pilgrim.

The memory of a third, wiser and more patriotic, reverted to France, and contemplated Louis in his proper sphere-the wise legislator, the conscientious judge, the friend of order and of peace-walking every where without attendants, and seated in the garden of Paris, or oftener beneath the oaks of Vincennes, rendering justice to all who sought it at his hands-in deed, as truly as in word, the friend of his people.

Others again recalled him to their minds as the heroic captive; nobler even in the prison of the infidel, than in the palace of his fathers; meeting every menace of torture and of death, with answer equally kingly and christian. "The Soldan may destroy my body as he pleases, my soul belongs only to God."

These, and a thousand recollections of his chivalrous gentleness, his pure morals, his care of others, and his exposure of himself, oppressed every heart; and those who could have braved death in their own persons, trembled now that it approached their King. He alone was tranquil, and even cheerful.

My friends," said he, breaking the mournful silence,

and smiling upon them as he spoke, "I sent for you to receive my farewell. My course is finished, but wherefore lament? It is right, that as your chief, I should be the first to lead the way to death, only be prepared to follow me when your time arrives."

He then presented to them Philip his eldest son and successor, and requested for him their solemn pledge of fealty and affection. Afterwards, with mingled solemnity and tenderness, he committed to the future King, those instructions which he had written with his own hand, and now enforced with his dying breath. They were tinctured with monasticism, but throughout the mists of religious error shone the wise, and virtuous, and parental King.

One by one, and for the last time, the assembled barons then approached the couch, and kissed the cold hand that for nearly half a century had swayed the sceptre of France. A word, a smile, or a look of recognition he bestowed upon each, forgetful to the end of himself, anxious only for the comfort of others. Joinville approached last; feeble from age, and now overwhelmed with grief, sobs and tears alone expressed his fidelity. The unexpected sight of his faithful Seneschal lighted up for a moment the monarch's faded and fast closing eye; and at the instant, when all, except his confessors, were ushered from the apartment, he gave him his hand, tacitly affording him the melancholy privilege of receiving his last sigh. Having thus fulfilled the

duties connected with his station, his faith and its ministers solely occupied his mind.

The cares of the king, the ardour of the hero, the feelings of the father, silently ebbed away; and there remained to him but the one hope, and single desire of the Christian, and the dying man.

Honour to his memory! Scriptural piety may sigh, that in following the blind guides of his age, he was 'in all things too superstitious;' and enlightened heroism may regret, that he sacrificed the welfare of his kingdom to a chivalrous chimera, or rather to a religious passion for the Crusades; but still, with every spot and every draw-back-honour to the memory of Louis, whom, if the priests pronounced a saint, his people regarded as a father! M. J. J.

TO A LADY SINGING.

THOSE Soothing tones so richly steal
Upon my labouring breast and brain,

And lift so softly sorrow's seal,

Oh, dark-haired minstrel,-sing again!

Yet Love so soon his way will win

Where Pleasure opes her golden door,

That lest the traitor now glide in,

Oh, dark-haired minstrel,-sing no more!

A. B.