10. This became too puzzling. I could not but be near the explanation. I heard barkings and shoutings; ten or twelve bull-dogs, seven or eight men armed with iron-shod sticks, and with muzzles in their hands, ran up at the heels of the fugitive bears. One of these men paused while the others were bringing back the muzzled beasts, and he explained to me this strange riddle.

11. The proprietor of a circus was taking advantage of the Easter1 holidays to send his bears and his dogs to give some performances in the country. The whole party traveled on foot; at the last resting-place the bears had been loosed, and while their keepers were dining at the neighboring tavern, they had taken advantage of their liberty to proceed měrrily and alone on their journey. They were bears out for a holiday.

II.

9. THE LYING SERVANT.

HERE lived in Swabia a certain lord, pious, just, and

THE

wise, who had a serving-man-a great rogue, and above all addicted to the vice of lying. The knave was given to boasting of his wondrous travels. He had visited countries which are nowhere to be found on the map, and seen things which mortal eye never beheld.

2. One pleasant day in spring, åfter the rains had fallen heavily and swollen the floods, the lord and the knave rode out together, and their way was through a silent and shady forest. Suddenly appeared an old and well-grown fox. "Look!" exclaimed the måster, "what a huge beast!"-"Doth this beast surprise thee by its hugeness?" replieth straight the servingman, casting his eye slightingly on the animal. "I have been in a kingdom where the foxes are as big as the bulls in this."

3. So they rode on, the lord in silence; but soon he began to sigh heavily. Then the knave inquired of the lord what cause of sorrow had happened. "Alas!" replied the wily måster, "I trust in Heaven's goodness that neither of us two hath

' East'er, the annual commemoration of our Lord's resurrection.

2

Knāve, used here in the sense of "servant."

to-day, by any frowardness of fortune, chanced to say the thing which is not; for assuredly he that hath so done must perish miserably this day."

4. The knave, on hearing these doleful words, with eager exclamation, begged of his master to ease his suspense, and explain why so cruel a doom was now to fall upon him who had spoken an untruth. "Hear, then, dear knave," answered the lord, "since thou must needs know; and may no trouble come to thee from what I shall say.

5. "To-day we ride far, and in our course is a våst and heavy-rolling flood, of which the förd is narrow and the pool is deep. To it hath Heaven given the power of sweeping down into its dark holes all dealers in falsehood who may rashly venture to put themselves within its truth-loving current. But to him who hath told no lie there is no fear of the river. Spûr we our horses, for to-day our journey must be long."

6. Then the knave thought, "Long indeed must the journey be for some who are now here ;" and as he spurred, he sighed more deeply than his master had done before him. They soon came to a brook. Its waters were small and its channel such as a boy might leap across. Yet the knave began to tremble, and falteringly asked of his lord, "Is this the river where liars must perish?"

7. "This? Ah, no,” replied the lord, "this is but a brook; no liar need tremble here." Yet was the knave not whōlly assured; and, stammering, said, "My gracious lord, thy sẽrvant now bethinks him that he to-day hath made a fox too huge; that of which he spoke was not so large as an ox, but as big as a good-sized deer.”

8. The lord replied with wonder in his tone, "What of this fox concernèth me? If large or small, I câre not. Spur we our horses, for to-day our journey must be long."—" Long indeed," still thought the serving-man; and in sadness he crossed the brook. Then came they to a stream running quickly through a green meadow, the stones showing themselves in many places above its frothy water.

9. The varlet1 started, and cried aloud, "Another river!

1 Vär❜let, a man-servant.

Surely of rivers thêre is to-day no end: was it of this thou spakest heretofore?"-"No," replied the lord, "not of this." And more he said not, yet marked he with inward gladness his servant's fear. "Because, in good truth," rejoined the knave, "it is on my conscience to give thee note that the fox of which I spake was not bigger than a cälf."-" Large or small, let me not be troubled with the fox; the beast concerneth not me at all."

10. As they quitted the wood, they perceived a river in the way, which was swollen by the rains, and on it was a bōat. “This, then, is the doom of liars," said the knave, looking carnestly at the boat. "Be informed, my good lord, that fox was not larger than a fat sheep." The lord seemed angry, and ănswered, "This is not yet the grave of falsehood: why torment me with this fox? Rather spur we our horses, for we have very far to go."

11. Now the day declined, and the shadows of the travelers. lengthened on the ground, but darker than the twilight was the sadness on the face of the knave. And when the wind rustled the trees, he turned pale and inquired of his master if the noise were of a torrent or stream of water.

12. Suddenly they descended into a low valley, in which was a broad, black river, creeping fearfully along without bridge or bark to be seen near. "Ah, miserable me!" said the knave, deadly pale; "this, then, is the river in which liars must perish!"-"Even so," said the lord, "but the ford is sound and good for true men. Spur we our horses, for the night approacheth, and we have yet so very far to go."

13. "My life is dear to me," said the trembling serving-man, "and thou knowèst that if it were lost, my wife would be disconsolate. In sincerity, then, I declâre that the fox I saw in the distant country was not larger than that which fled from us in the wood this morning." Then läughed the lord aloud, and said, “Ho, knave! wêrt thou afraid of thy life? Is not falsehood, which kills the soul, worse than death, which has måstery only over the body?

14. "The ford is safe, and the waters gentle as those we have already påssed; but who shall pass thee over the shame of this day? In it thou must needs sink, unless penance come to help

thee over, and cause thee to look back on the gulf of thy lies, as on a danger from which thou hast been delivered by Heaven's grace."

SECTION IV.

I.

10. WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

N one of those sober and rather mělancholy days in the latter part of autumn, when the shadows of morning and evening almost mingle together and throw a gloom over the decline of the year, I påssed several hours in rambling about Westminster Abbey.2 There was something congenial 3 to the season in the mournful magnificence of the old pile; and, as I passed its threshold, it seemed like stepping back into the regions of antiquity, and losing myself among the shades of former ages.

6

2. The cloisters still retain something of the quiet and seclusion of former days. The gray walls are discolored by damps and crumbling with age; a coat of hōary moss has gathered over the inscriptions of the mural monuments, and obscured the death's heads and other fune'real emblems. The sharp touches of the chisel are gone from the rich tracery of the arches; the roses which adorned the key-stones have lost their leafy beauty; every thing bears marks of the gradual dilapidations 10 of time, and yet has something touching and pleasing in its very decay.

'De cline', a sinking or lessening; the latter part.

2 West min'ster Abbey, built in 610 as a Benedictine monastery; used now as a burial-place for England's great men.

"In scrip' tion, that which is written on stone, wood, or other substances.

'Mu'ral, belonging or attached to a wall.

8 Tra'ce ry, fine drawn lines;

3 Con ge'ni al, partaking of the complicated, graceful patterns.

same nature.

4 Thresh'ōld, the door-sill.

5 Cloist'ers, enclosed passages or halls of some length, lighted by windows.

9 Key'stone, a stone wider at the top than at the bottom, placed in the centre of an arch to strengthen it.

10 Di lǎp'i dā'tion, decay; state of being partly ruined.

3. The sun was pouring down a yellow autumnal ray into the square of the cloisters; beaming upon a scanty plot of gråss in the center, and lighting up an angle of the vaulted păssage with a kind of dusky splendor. From between the arcades,1 the eye glanced up to a bit of blue sky, or a passing cloud, and beheld the sun-gilt pinnacles of the abbey towering into the ǎzure heaven.

4. I pursued my walk to an arched door opening to the interior of the Abbey. On entering here, the magnitude of the building breaks fully upon the mind, contråsted with the vaults of the cloisters. The eye gazes with wonder at clustered columns of gigantic dimensions, with arches springing from them to such an amazing height that man, wandering about their bases, shrinks into insignificance in comparison with his own handiwork. The spaciousness and gloom of this vast edifice produce a profound and mysterious awe.

5. I passed some time in Poet's Corner, which occupies an end of one of the transepts or cross-aisles of the Abbey. The monuments are generally simple; for the lives of literary men afford no striking themes for the sculptor. Shakespeare and Addison have statues erected to their memories; but the greater part have busts, medallions,3 and sometimes mere inscriptions. Notwithstanding the simplicity of these memorials, I have always observed that the visitors to the Abbey remained longest about them. A kinder and fonder feeling takes place of that cold curiosity or vague admiration with which they gaze on the splendid monuments of the great and the heroic.

6. From Poet's Corner I continued my stroll toward that part of the Abbey which contains the sepulchres of the kings. I wandered among what once were chapels but which are now occupied by the tombs and monuments of the great. At every turn, I met with some illustrious name, or the cognizance of some powerful house renowned in històry.

7. As the eye darts into these dusky chambers of death, it

1 Ar'cāde, a series of arches supported by columns.

2 Pin'na cle, a high, slender turret or point.

3 Me dǎl'lion (-yun), any circular tablet on which are presented raised or embossed figures.

4 Cognizance (kõn ́i zåns), a badge.