best dispose of the corse, so as to avoid being pursued for assassination, and could think of no better means than that of trying to make the murdered man pass for himself.

In this project he had the more reasonable hope of succeeding, as they were both of about the same height and bulk. So stripping off his own cowl and robe, he put them on the other, and took his in exchange.

This being accomplished, he so mangled the features as to render them undistinguishable; and putting some of his papers, and amongst them an account of the money he had gleaned from the faithful, into his enemy's pocket,he fled off towards Paris, where, on his arrival, seeking Louis, he informed him of what had happened, and said that he must necessarily leave that part of the country.

Zannecq having now accomplished all that the Count of Flanders had for him to do, the latter was glad enough to get rid of one whom he had too much trusted, not now to mistrust; therefore, having paid him for his services, he also gave him a letter to the Abbot of St. Mi

chael's, in Normandy. In consequence of this recommendation it was, that he was admitted to the monastery, where, by some means or other, he so far ingratiated himself with the Superior, that, the Sacristan dying, he was promoted to his office.

This he continued to exercise but for a very short period; for his patron, the Count of Flanders, desirous of getting him still further out of the way, exerted himself to have him sent to England as Prior of Careg-Crowse, or the Convent of St. Michael's, in Cornwall, a cell or monastery dependant on the former, and where, when Sir Amauri de Clisson arrived, he had the indiscretion to relate to him some of the adventures of his former life; this, however, would not much have injured him, as de Clisson, occupied as he was with his mistress's affairs, would perhaps have thought no more either of the narratives, or of the narrator, had he not related that adventure, which, when afterwards repeated to d'Artois, enabled him to identify his daughter.

It was this which cost him his life; for the

circumstance shortly coming to Edward's ears, he sent notice of it to the Abbot, who recalled him into Normandy, and no sooner had him in his power, than he confined him in a dungeon, where he died shortly afterwards.

Robert, Count of Artois, the principal hero of this tale, lived not long to enjoy the society of his lately recovered child. The anguish of heart he had so long endured, the irritation of spirit resulting from it, the

"Sense of intollerable wrong,

And whom we scorn, they only strong"

-happy-happy indeed is he, who, having cause to hate, is not necessitated to despise !— and the agitation produced by recent events, had so inflamed his blood, as to render fatal a wound, which, under other circumstances, and in a more healthy subject, would have been soon and easily healed.

His neck evincing greater symptoms of inflammation on each succeeding day, he was advised to go to England, where the art of chirurgery was then better understood than in

France; but being unable to bear the fatigue of the voyage, he sunk beneath it, and died before arriving in London.

Thus fell the Seigneur Robert Comte d'Artois, descended from Kings-related to Kingsallied to Kings, and courted by them;-who was, as Froissart says of him, one of the most refined and accomplished Princes of the day in which he lived, and of the best blood in the world.

Thus he fell. I attempt not to justify the war he raised against his country,-it is in truth unjustifiable; but only so because its evil consequences were not confined to his aggressor. But-but let it be at least said in his defence, that when a man has been persecuted beyond the endurance of a mortal, he can hardly be expected to carry himself with the meekness of an angel. A sorry time of it would an angel lead in this world-none would need envy him. What a life of constant loathing must it be!

One little bit of morality, with the reader's permission, and I finish this part of the subject. Had Robert of Artois resisted and overcome this passion of revenge, instead of ceding to it,

he would have proved himself not only a better man, but a greater hero; for leaving aside all nursery cant-all those trite sayings which are inculcated by rote, and learned by rote, and which, without being of any sort of use to any one person, are extremely injurious to the learner, by making him fancy he is a remarkably moral man because he can repeat certain phrases -leaving all these aside, it is, unquestionably, and without the shadow of a doubt, in all cases, infinitely more grand and noble-more proud, to forgive a wrong than to revenge it-to wrap one's self around with scorn, as in a mantle, and say to him who injures:-" Leave my presence -Go!"

King Edward's grief at his untimely end was excessive. In him he had lost a relative whom he affectioned, a friend who had done him essential service during his childhood, and a general on whose able conduct he principally relied for success in his wars with France. He ordered his funeral to be performed in the cathedral of St. Paul's, whither he himself attended, accompanied by many thousand mourners.