had burnt up the verdure.  The spirit of Robert le Diable is supposed to haunt the cavern in the form of a wolf, and advances uttering piteous cries, and steadfastly gazing on its place of defence (the caverns extending to the River Seine) reviews his former glory and conquests, and seems bitterly to lament the present decay.  In vain the peasants commence the chase; they assert that the wolf though closely pursued always eludes the vigilance of the huntsman.  On the death of Richard I. of England, 1199, his Brother John was proclaimed King of Normandy and Aquitaine; the Duchies of Brittany, the Counties of Anjou, Maine, Tours and others, acknowledged Arthur, John’s nephew, as their sovereign, and claimed the protection of the King of France, Philip II., surnamed Augustus; but he despairing of being able to retain these provinces against the will of their inhabitants, sacrificed Arthur and his followers to John, who in a skirmish with some of the Norman Lords, carried them all prisoners into Normandy, where Arthur soon disappeared:  the Britons assert that he was murdered by his uncle; and the Normans that he was accidentally killed in endeavouring to escape.  The death of their favourite Prince stung the Britons to madness, as in him centered their last hope of regaining independence:  an ardent imagination led them to believe their future destiny connected with this child, which inspired them with a wild affection for Philip, as being the enemy of his murderer.  They accused John before the French King of Arthur’s murder, and he was summoned as a Vassal of Normandy to appear and defend himself before the twelve Peers of France.  This command being treated with contempt, the lands John held under the French crown were declared forfeit, and an army levied to put it into execution.  It was on this emergency that John found a safe place of concealment in the cavern of Robert the Devil.

* * * * *

Laconics, &c.

(Continued from page 53.)

Generosity is not the virtue of the multitude, and for this reason:  selfishness is often the consequence of ignorance, and it requires a cultivated mind to discern where the rights of others interfere with our own wishes.

If commerce has benefited, it has also injured the human race; and the invention of the compass has brought disease as well as wealth in its train.

The days of joy are as long and perhaps as frequent as those of grief; but either the memory is treacherous or the mind is too morbid to admit this to be the case.

Without occasional seriousness and even melancholy, mirth loses its magic, and pleasure becomes unpalatable.

It is unlucky that experience being our best teacher, we have only learnt its lessons perfectly, when we no longer stand in need of them; and have provided ourselves armour we can never wear.

Chastity in women may be said to arise more from attention to worldly motives than deference to moral obligation:  there is not so much continence amongst men, because there is not the same restriction.