For death may come with brow unpleasant,
May come when least we wish him present,
And beckon to the sable shore,
And grimly bid us-drink no more!

Translated by THOMAS MOORE.

ON HIMSELF.-ODE IV.
Reclined at ease on this soft bed,
With fragrant leaves of myrtle spread,
And flow'ry lote, I'll now resign
My cares, and quaff the rosy wine.
In decent robe, behind him bound,
Cupid shall serve the goblet round:
For fast away our moments steal,
Like the swift chariot's rolling wheel:
The rapid course is quickly done,
And soon the race of life is run:
Then, then, alas! we droop, we die,
And, sunk in dissolution, lie:
Our frame no symmetry retains--
Nought, but a little dust, remains.
Why on the tomb are odours shed,
Why pour'd libations on the dead?
Το
me, far better, while I live.
Rich wines and balmy fragrance give.
Now, now the rosy wreath prepare,
And hither call the lovely fair.
Now, while I draw my vital breath,
Ere yet I lead the dance of death,
For joy my sorrows I'll resign,
And drown my cares in rosy wine.

Translated by I. B. ROCHE.

CUPID AND THE BEE.

Cupid once upon a bed

Of roses laid his weary head;
Luckless urchin not to see
Within the leaves a slumbering bee!
The bee awaked-with anger wild
The bee awaked and stung the child.
Loud and piteous are his cries:
To Venus quick he runs, he flies!
"Oh mother-I am wounded through-
I die with pain-in sooth I do!
Stung by some little angry thing,
Some serpent on a tiny wing-
A bee it was-for once, I know,
I heard a rustic call it so."
Thus he spoke, and she the while
Heard him with a soothing smile;
Then said, "My infant, if so much
Thou feel the little wild bee's touch,
How must the heart, ah, Cupid! be,
The hapless heart that's stung by thee!"
Translated by THOMAS MOORE.

HOW ESOP BROUGHT BACK HIS

MASTER'S WIFE.

[SIR ROGER L'ESTRANGE. Born 1616. Fought on the Royalist side, and was imprisoned for four years by the Parliament. After the Restoration was made Licenser of the Press. Died 1704.]

The wife of Xanthus was well born and wealthy, but so proud and domineering withal, as if her fortune and her extraction had entitled her to the breeches. She was horribly bold, meddling, and expensive, as that sort of women commonly are, easily put off the hooks, and monstrous hard to be pleased again; perpetually chattering at her husband, and upon all occasions of controversy threatening him to be gone. It came to this at last, that Xanthus's stock of patience being quite spent, he took up a resolution of going another way to work with her, and of trying a course of severity, since there was nothing to be done with her by kindness. But this experiment, instead of mending the matter, made it worse; for, upon harder usage, the woman grew desperate, and went away from him in earnest. She was as bad, 'tis true, as bad might well be, and yet Xanthus had a kind of hankering for her still; beside that, there was matter of interest in the case; and a pestilent tongue she had, that the poor husband dreaded above all things under the sun. But the man was willing, however, to make the best of a bad game, and so his wits and his friends were set at work, in the fairest manner that might be, to get her home again. But there was no good to be done in it, it seems; and Xanthus was so visibly out of humour upon it, that Esop in pure pity bethought himself immediately how to comfort him. "Come, master," says he, "pluck up a good heart, for I have a project in my noddle, that shall bring my mistress to you back again, with as good a will as ever she went from you." What does my sop, but away immediately to the market among the butchers, poulterers, fishmongers, confectioners, &c., for the best of everything that was in season. Nay, he takes private people in his way too, and chops into the very house of his mistress's relations, as by mistake. This way of proceeding set the whole town agog to know the meaning of all this bustle; and sop innocently told everybody that his master's wife was run away from him, and he had married another; his friends

up and down were all invited to come and make merry with him, and this was to be the wedding-feast. The news flew like lightning, and happy were they that could carry the first tidings of it to the runaway lady— for everybody knew Esop to be a servant in that family. It gathered in the rolling, as all other stories do in the telling, especially where women's tongues and passions have the spreading of them. The wife, that was in her nature violent and unsteady, ordered her chariot to be made ready immediately, and away she posts back to her husband, falls upon him with outrages of looks and language; and after the easing of her mind a little "No, Xanthus," says she, "do not you flatter yourself with the hopes of wedding another woman while I am alive." Xanthus looked upon this as one of Esop's masterpieces; and for that bout all was well again betwixt master and mistress.

BARBARA FRIETCHIE.

Up from the meadows rich with corn,
Clear in the cool September morn,
The clustered spires of Frederick stand
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.
Round about them orchards sweep
Apple and peach-tree fruited deep,

Fair as a garden of the Lord

To the eyes of the famished rebel horde,

On that pleasant morn of the early fall

When Lee marched over the mountain wall,—

Over the mountains winding down,
Horse and foot, into Frederick Town.

Forty flags with their silver stars,
Forty flags with their crimson bars,
Flapped in the morning wind: the sun
Of noon looked down, and saw not one.
Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then,
Bowed with her fourscore years and ten;
Bravest of all in Frederick Toown,

She took up the flag the men hauled down;
In her attic window the staff she set,
To show that one heart was loyal yet.
Up the street came the rebel tread,
Stonewall Jackson riding ahead.
Under his slouched hat left and right
He glanced; the old flag met his sight.
"Halt!"-the dust-brown ranks stood fast.
"Fire!"-out blazed the rifle blast.

It shivered the window, pane, and sash;
It rent the banner with seam and gash.
Quick, as it fell from the broken staff,
Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf;
She leaned far out on the window-sill,
And shook it forth with a royal will.
"Shoot, if you must, this old gray head,
But spare your country's flag," she said.
A shade of sadness, a blush of shame,
Over the face of the leader came;

The nobler nature within him stirred
To life at that woman's deed and word:
"Who touches a hair of yon grey head
Dies like a dog! March on!" he said.
All day long through Frederick Street
Sounded the tread of marching feet :
All day long that free flag tossed
Over the heads of the rebel host.
Ever its torn folds rose and fell
On the loyal winds that loved it well;
And through the hill-gaps sunset light
Shone over it with a warm good-night.
Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er,
And the rebel rides on his raids no more.
Honour to her! and let a tear
Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier.
Over Barbara Frietchie's grave
Flag of Freedom and Union wave!
Peace and order and beauty draw
Round thy symbol of light and law;
And ever the stars above look down
On thy stars below in Frederick Town!
JOHN G. WHITTIER.

BAYLE'S CHARACTER OF JOHN

CALVIN.

[Pierre Bayle, an eminent French scholar and encyclopædist, 1647-1706, was the son of a Protestant clergyman. He studied philosophy at Geneva, served as a tutor, and became professor of philosophy at Rotterdam, Holland, where he published the great work of his life, the “Dictionnaire Historique et Critique." This work, in

tended to correct the errors and supplement the defects

of the encyclopædias, had great success, passing through

numerous editions. It was translated into English, and published in a much enlarged form in ten folio volumes,

London, 1734-41. Bayle was an astute though rather diffuse critical writer, with strong skeptical tendencies, but with great earnestness.]

John Calvin, one of the chief Reformers of the Church in the sixteenth century, was born at Noyon, in Picardy, July the 10th, 1509. As he was designed for the Church, they procured him very soon a Living in the Cathedral Church of Noyon, and afterwards the Rectory of Pont-l' Evique. But these designs took no effect, first, because Calvin, by the advice of Robertus Olivetanus, applied himself to the study of Religion, from the purest springs of it, which determined him to renounce all superstitions; and secondly, because his father, altering his mind, chose to make a Lawyer of him rather than a Divine. Therefore, after he had gone through a course of polite Literature at Paris, he was sent to Orleans where he studied the Law under Peter de l'Etoile, then to Bourges, where he continued the same kind of study under Andrew Alciat. He made a great progress in that Science, and did not improve less in his knowledge of Divinity by his private labours. He soon made himself known to those who had secretly admitted the Reformation. The Oration which he suggested to Nicholas Copus, Rector of the University of Paris, having been very much disliked by the Sorbonne, and the Parliament, occasioned the beginning of a persecution against the Protestants; so that Calvin, who narrowly escaped being taken in the College of Fortel, retired into Xaintonge, after he had had the honour to speak with the Queen of Navarre, who had appeased this first storm. She also rescued the learned Faber Stapulensis out of the hands of the Inquisitors, and sent him to Nerac, where Calvin went to pay his respects to him, after which he returned to Paris in the year 1534. Servetus was then in that City, and did not go to the place which had been appointed

for a conference between Calvin and him. This year was very severe to the Reformed; for which reason Calvin resolved to retire out of France, after he had published at Orleans a Treatise against those who believe that the departed souls are in a kind of sleep. He chose Basel for the place of his residence, and studied Hebrew in that city; where he was particularly beloved by Gryhunt after glory, yet he was obliged to pubnæus and Capito; and though he did not lish a work, which was very proper to spread his reputation abroad; I mean his Christian Institution, which he dedicated to Francis I. After he had published this work, he went to pay a visit to the Duchess of Ferrara, a Princess famous for her piety, who received him very kindly. He then returned into France, and having settled his private affairs, he proposed to go to Strasbourgh or to Basel, in company with Anthony Calvin, the only brother he had left. But as on account of the war the roads were not safe, except thro' the territories of the Duke of Savoy, he was obliged to go that way. This was a particular direction of Providence; it was his destiny to settle at Geneva, and when he only designed to pass through that City in order to go further, he found himself stopped there by an order from heaven, if I may say so, particularly intimated to him: for William Farel threatened him in the most solemn manner, with God's curse, if he did not stay to assist him in that part of the Lord's vineyard. Calvin, therefore, found himself obliged to comply with the choice, which the Consistory and the Magistrates of Geneva had made of him, with the people's consent, as well to preach as to be a Professor of Divinity. He had condescended to accept only this last appointment, and would have refused the first, but he was at last obliged to take them both upon him in August, 1536. The next year he made the whole people swear solemnly to a body of doctrines, which contained also a renunciation of Popery; and because the reformation of the doctrinal part of Religion had not had a great influence upon the morals of the people, which were very much corrupted, nor banished the spirit of faction, which divided the chief families of the Com. monwealth, Calvin, assisted by the other Ministers, declared, that since all their admonitions and warnings had proved unsuccessful, they could not celebrate the holy Sacrament, as long as their disorders reigned. He also declared, that he could

not submit to the regulations, which the Synod of the Canton of Berne had lately made, and that they of Geneva ought to be heard in the Synod which was to meet at Zurich. Hereupon the Syndics, having summoned the people, it was ordered in that Assembly, that Calvin, Farel, and another Minister should leave the City within two days, because they had refused to administer the Sacrament. Calvin retired to Strasburgh, where Bucer and Capito gave him a thousand proofs of their love and esteem. He established a French Church at Strasburgh, of which he was made the first Minister; he was also chosen at the same time Professor of Divinity there. During his stay at Strasburgh, he continued to give several marks of his kind affection to the Church of Geneva, as appears amongst other things, by the answer he wrote in 1539 to the beautiful but artful Letter of Cardinal Sadolet, Bishop of Carpentras. Two years after the Divines of Strasburgh would have him assist at the Diet, which the Emperor had appointed to meet at Worms and at Ratisbon, in order to appease, if possible, the trouble occasioned by the difference of Religion. Calvin went therefore to the Diet with Bucer, and entered into a conference with Melancthon. The people of Geneva entreated him so earnestly to return to them, that at last he consented to be their Minister again for a certain time, but they were to wait till he was returned from the Diet. He arrived at Geneva September the 13th, 1541, to the great satisfaction of the people, and the Magistrates. The first thing he did af ter his arrival was, to establish a form of Ecclesiastical Discipline, and a Consistorial Jurisdiction with the power of reproving, and inflicting all kinds of canonical punishments, as far as excommunication exclusively. This was very much disliked by several persons who said, that by this means the papal tyranny would soon be revived. However the thing was executed; and this new Canon passed into a law in an Assembly of the whole people held November the 20th, 1541, and the Clergy and Laity promised solemnly to conform to it forever. The inflexible strictness with which Calvin asserted on all occasions the rights of his Consistory, drew upon him the hatred of a great many persons, and occasioned sometimes great tumults in the City; and one would hardly believe, if there were not unquestionable proofs of it, that amongst all the disturbances of the Commonwealth, he

and

could yet take so much care as he did of the foreign churches in France, in Germany, in England, and in Poland, and write so many books and so many letters. He did more by his pen than by his presence, yet on some occasions he acted in person, as when he went to Francfort in 1556, on purpose to put an end to the disputes which divided the French Church there. Не had been sick some time before, and the report which was spread of his being dead did very much please the Roman Catholicks. He always led an active life, having almost constantly pen in hand, even when his distempers confined him to his bed. He lived, I say, in the continual labours which his zeal for the general good of the Churches imposed upon him till May the 27th, 1564. He was a man on whom God had conferred the most eminent talents; a great wit, a sound judgment, an happy memory; he was a judicious, eloquent, and indefatigable writer; he had a very extensive learning, and a great zeal for the truth. Joseph Scaliger, who found but very few persons worthy of his praises, yet could not forbear admiring Calvin; he commended him amongst other things, for not having attempted to write a commentary on the Revelations of St. John. The Roman Catholicks have at last been obliged to rank amongst the ill-ground fables, all those horrid calumnies which had been published against Calvin's morals. Their best writers content themselves now with saying, that if he were free of the vices of the body, yet he was subject to those of the mind, as pride, anger, detraction, &c. There has been spread abroad a pleasant story concerning his devotion to St. Hubert. They who pretended to confute this story, by saying that Calvin had no children, were mistaken; for it is not true that his marriage was fruitless. Nothing shows more the bad effects which a mistaken zeal has upon men's judgment, than to see authors of some reputation, who yet relate with the utmost gravity that Ca!vin would make people believe that he raised the dead. It is not long since a young abbot accused him of having expressed somewhere a very brutish thought, but being challenged to quote the passage, which he boasted to have read, he did not answer the challenge, so that his accusation may be ranked amongst the notorions calumnies. Moreri is not so erroneous in this article as might have been expected. He does not deny that Calvin had several