Diary and Chronology. DATE. DAYS. DIARY. DATE. CORRESPONDING CHRONOLOGY. Sept. 30 This saint was Archbishop of Canterbury, and a 1769.-Expired on this day, at Newberry, a town of This saint was Chancellor of England and Oxford, 3 This saint was a member of the Areopagus, and was 4 This saint was a hermit of Nitria, he is said to have died, A.D. 308. 1816.-Died off the southern coast of Africa, Capt. J. H. Tuckey, T. 40, one of the most enterprising navigators of modern times. Captain T. was the author of a valuable professional work on Maratime Geography.-Times' Tel. 1825. 5 This saint was the daughter of Symmachus the younger, a patrician of Rome. She lived in the sixth century; beloved for her humanity and piety. 1821.-Died at Shiraz in Persia, Claudius John 6 St. Faith was martyred by order of Dacian, prefect 1795.-Expired, Dr. J. G. Zimmerman, the cele- "AND is Mo Eikin taken?" said a handsome young man, laying down his pen, as the person whom he addressed mentioned that name amongst many others as belonging to Jews imprisoned that morning. "Ay, that he is. This very morning I spied out the old hider. Longshanks may shake his monies now, that is, when he can find them, for the old fellow has kept his mouth close enough as yet. But I think I know what will bring him to confession. Longshanks will promise him liberty to be banished, with a mighty, pretty damsel that clung closely to him this morning. But-" 66 ed your cheek! 66 Oh, Walter, press me not now; but tell me, where did you find him?" "Or, rather, where did I find the maiden? Well, I will tell you; but we had better not be heard-step into this closet, it is not known to many." As he said this, Walter drew back part of the skins that hung round the walls, and concealed a small door, through which they crept, and closed it after them. The shadows of night had closed round the city, in one deep sable curtain, when a tall dark figure issued from the massy gate of the white tower, and after turning down several irregularly built streets, crossed some green meadows, and at length entered the small village of Eysaldon.t you Speak, tell me, where is she? I mean he at least, I mean how glad I am he's safely lodged. But where did find him ?" "Marry, I think the news hath blanchVOL. II. + Now Islington. 41 One faint, glimmering light was seen through the hole in the roof of a small but tolerably neat cottage. To this the stranger proceeded. He knocked.' "Tis my father. He has escaped," screamed a female voice, as the hut door opened, and a lovely girl rushed towards the intruder, and as quickly started from him as he entered the hut. 66 Sibel, dearest! can'st thou not think how much it has cost me to hear of thy misfortunes? Tell me, what can I do for thee? Though thou shouldst still scorn me, I will risk my life, name-ay, all but my soul." "Leave me, Roger Walsingham! leave me! Art thou not serving our persecutor? Wilt thou not glory as my father's grey hairs mix with the dust?" "Stop, Sibel, is the name of our common God, stop! Thou knowest not my heart. Say but thou lovest me, Sibel." "And what would that avail? Said I not before, when we were flying the home of our fathers; said I not then, I love thee? and I say so now, Roger-I love thee as my life, peace, virtue, father-but I too have a soul, Walsingham-I will not risk that. If thou can'st let me see my father, I will bless thee as well as a poor Jewess can. I will own there was a time I thought Roger-but I will not say it, for 'tis useless now. Go, and tell the christian king-I fear him not, Moses Elkin is innocent. Take me to him. Let me throw myself at his feet; I will plead for him-but, alas! I forget; I too, am liable to imprisonment. God! the God of Israel, knows, I do not wish to hide from it, but for my father's sake." My wait me here to-morrow night. Till then, farewell!" Roger had scarcely reached Whitehall, when his royal master sent to require his attendance. "I come," said he, as with breathless haste he paced the long corridors, and entered the room of state. Edward sat in a clumsily-carved oaken chair, at the upper end of a long room, surrounded by his officers of state. Walsingham bent low, and stood with his hands crossed on his breast in token of submission to receive his orders. "How now, Walsingham? Hast thou been running a race, that thy breath will not serve thy tongue? Say, hast thou seen our prisoners ?- They must die! Thou changest colour; but thy errand is one of mercy. I would have thee go to the Tower, and say-Edward will grant a pardon to those who will embrace our faith, with an increase of riches. Begone! why loiterest thou here?" 66 Pardon, Sire! but I crave mercy for one of thy prisoners. He is innocent of the crimes for which his liberty has been forfeited." "Sayest thou! Dost thou utter treason? I say he is guilty, let him be whom he may. Speak! his name?" "Moses Elkin, Sire," said Walsingham, as he threw himself at the feet of the monarch. "Moses Elkin, slave, I tell thee he is guilty. Begone on thine errand-yet stop. Why pleadest thou for him?" "He has a daughter, Sire, who if it be thy pleasure to deprive him of life, will die also." Edward indulged in a long laugh, as he cast a fairly-written copy of the New Testament towards Walsingham. Then, settling his countenance to a placid smile, said-" Go, Walsingham, take that, and convince Moses, if thou can'st, of the truth of our belief. Tell him, on that condition only can I pardon him or his child. Doubt not but Moses values his life. Meantime, Walsingham, let the maiden be brought to our pre sence. Walsingham bowed, and with a melancholy composure, proceeded to his duty. His first visit was to the Tower. He found Moses, as he had expected from the lofty tone of his mind, inflexible. "Tell thy King," said he, "I ask not my life. I will give him jewels, monies, ay, riches in abundance, if he will only spare what, to me, is far more valuable-my Sibel's life, the life of my child. Walsingham, I was in prosperity when I parted thee from her; but I know thou wilt not reject her, even now. She is thine, if thou likest, and I doubt not thou lovest her. Thou wilt find her-" "I know, I know where she is; have seen her, talked with her, but she will not hear me," said Walsingham; and then proceeded to relate to Elkin the whole of the interview. Tell father "Take her, then, to thy King. him she is motherless, ay, and say less! Tell him he will soothe the dying hour of her last parent, if he will protect her. Plead for her, Walsingham. May heaven bless thee and her !". Elkin's voice faltered; the big drops rolled in the channels time had hewn; he sank on the floor. The day of trial was now quickly approaching. Sibel had been admitted to the presence of the king, but she firmly adhered to her faith, notwithstanding the promised reward of her apostacy was the life of her father. She had been allowed to attend on her father a part of each day. But the affecting scene that took place, transcends description. "Father! dear father!" said Sibel, but the day preceding his trial,-" thou art innocent. Can'st thou not prove it ?" "No, Sibel. Who, thinkest thou would serve poor Moses Elkin, at the risk of disobliging a powerful monarch? I have offered all I have left for thy life, but he has refused it." 66 Father, the little time I have left in this world, I would employ otherwise than learning so bitter a lesson. Would not one of thy friends save thy life at the risk of a few days' displeasure, even from the haughty Edward?" "Not one, my child! But surely he will pardon thee. Can he look on thy beauteous, open brow, and find thee guilty? No! Thou wilt yet live to find that lesson, bitter as it is,-true. But let us kneel, my Sibel, and thank the God of our fathers, that he has taken us for the sacrifice." They knelt in prayer, and day had dawned, ere they arose from the lowly posture. The sun had risen far above the horizon, when the prison door opened, and the officers appeared, to conduct them to the king's palace. Sibel's beautifullyturned ancles were sandaled. With her black silk hood buttoned under her chin, and her lovely arms cased in the richest bracelets she possessed, she entered the presence chamber, leaning on her aged parent's arm. The queen, Eleanor, uttered an involuntary exclamation of surprise, as her eyes rested on Sibel. Her 66 Silence, woman, I command thee!" said Edward, sternly; then, turning to Elkin "Hast thou well considered our offer of mercy?" "I have, oh king, and decline it." "Remove him, then," said Edward in a voice of thunder; "remove him to his cell, and let him make his peace with his God! for to-morrow he dies." "Take him not," screamed Sibel and she rushed between him and the ruffianly fellows who were proceeding to seize him. "Touch him not!-Pardon, Sire, pardon!" she exclaimed, as she threw herself at the feet of Edward, with one hand grasping her father's robe, the other quickly unclasping her costly ornaments. She threw them at the feet of Eleanor, who was already dissolved in tears. Edward alone was inflexible. "Do the cowards presume to disobey my commands?" he exclaimed with fury; and the guards, whom the seene had struck motionless, dragged Elkin from the grasp of his fainting child. It was now that Eleanor besought her royal spouse for mercy, till he consented to spare Sibel to her for a few months, to try to bring her to their faith. Even this ungracious pardon, Eleanor was thankful for. The unconscious Sibel was borne to the queen's chamber, who never left her side till her beautiful dark orbs turned upon her. 66 no! 'My father! have we passed the dark hour, and are we now in the blessed regions! Surely this is an angel!-oh, now I remember-but what do I do here? Take me to my father. Keep me not from him, and my last prayer shall bless you." "Hush! sweet Sibel. I am Eleanor, thy queen, thy friend, if thou wilt. I have won thy pardon." "Say, then, lovely queen, have they pardoned Moses Elkin? Ah! thy sad looks tell thou hast not won that. Pardon me, but I must be going. I cannot leave him. I had a mother, lovely as thyself, and she left my father to my care on her deathbed. Let me go," said Sibel, persuasively. "But, sweet Sibel, thou must yet live to bless Walsingham-ah, thou blushest, -I have heard all. Then, live for him," said the fair Eleanor, with one of her sweetest smiles. "Talk not to me of him! 'twill only make me miserable, and not turn me from my purpose.-Ah, Walsingham! I had hoped this trial would be spared me," said Sibel, as Walsingham entered the room. Eleanor had motioned to one of her maidens, who understood the sign, and instantly summoned him to her presence. But it was useless, Sibel was not to be moved from her purpose; and in a short time, Walsingham led her from the tearful, kind Eleanor, to her father's prison. We will spare the painful details of the time between her joining her devoted parent, and the hour for his execution. He was led forth, with many more, to the scaffold; some with wives, and others with children, like himself; but not one excited the sympathy that Sibel did. Reports of her sweet, amiable disposition, and devoted love to her father, had been spread far and wide, and excited general admiration. Sibel appeared unconscious of all that was passing. She supported her father, bound in chains. Her eyes were either cast to the ground, or fixed on his face. His turn came to ascend the scaffold. A bustle was heard amongst the crowd. Sibel shrieked 'Twas Walsingham! "Stop! stop!" he exclaimed-" don! a pardon !" a par A But it was too late. Elkin's spirit had fled to another and a better world. weight fell into Walsingham's arms: scarcely conscious, he turned his eyes,— it was Sibel! Her last feeling had been joy, for she heard but "A pardon !”— She knew not 'twas useless. Eleanor had not ceased to implore Edward, from the moment that Sibel had left her. At last, her tears, and the remembrance of her conjugal tenderness, when she had risked her life for his, and procured it, succeeded. She despatched, as she thought, the most acceptable messenger. The result has been stated. The crowd separated with feelings of the deepest awe. One grave held father and child, so devotedly attached to each other. - Walsingham banished himself from his native country, but the scene still lived in his memory. Smiles had long ceased to light his yet youthful features, when he sank to a foreign grave, unremembered, and almost unknown.La Belle Assem. |