all pretence, in the awful presence of his Maker, shuddering with the shame of its uncovered sin, and alone.  He nerves himself to an effort beyond his strength, as he stands in the pulpit before the innumerable gaze of the vast congregation, by holding Henry’s letter as a talisman in his hand.  Thus he preaches his last and greatest sermon.  “I will confess my wickedness, and be sorry for my sin.”  This he does literally.  He tells the whole story in detail, but without names, sometimes unable to go on for agony and shame, sometimes with tears streaming from his eyes.  He tells it there that all may take warning from him.  He intends to give himself up to justice as soon as possible.  He does not spare himself.  Since his first sin, he says, “I have not had one happy hour.”  He never repented, though always consumed with remorse, until his friend forgave him.  “That broke my stony heart,” he says.  The congregation are deeply moved and horrified.  Many think he is under a delusion caused by sorrow for his friend, and mental strain.  Having finished in the usual way, he sat down in the pulpit, and neither spoke nor moved again.  There he was found later, dead.

Next day Henry, who deeply moved, has watched by the dead body of the dean in his library, has to break the news of Cyril’s death to Mr. Maitland, in the very room in which Mr. Maitland had accused him of Cyril’s crime and given him up to the police.  The adoring father’s mind gives way under the blow, his memory is permanently confused, and he lives tranquilly on for some years in the belief that Cyril has only gone away for a few days.

The story ends with a family scene by Lake Leman, where Henry and Lilian, happily married, are living for a time with Mr. Maitland and Cyril’s children, whom Henry has kept from knowing their father’s guilt.

* * * * *

GERALD GRIFFIN

The Collegians

Gerald Griffin, born at Limerick on December 12, 1803, was one of the group of clever Irishmen who, in imitation of Tom Moore, sought literary fame in London in the first quarter of the nineteenth century.  At the age of twenty he was writing tales of Munster life.  In 1829 he became popular through the tale of “The Collegians,” here epitomised—­a tale that has held the stage to the present day under the title of “The Colleen Bawn.”  Nine years later, Griffin renounced literature, returned to Ireland, and entered the Church, and on June 12, 1840, died in a monastery at Cork.  A tragedy written in his early days was produced successfully by Macready after Griffin’s death.  His fame, however, depends on his pictures of Irish life, and they are concentrated best in the literary accessories of the present melodrama.

I.—­A Secret Wife