across a river, distinguished by the name of Rubicon. Here a phantom of immense stature, standing in the middle of the water, opposed his passage. It said, " Cæsar, if your purpose be the welfare of the state-pass on ; but if not, beware how you advance another step." Cæsar replied, "I have long fought for, and am still prepared to undergo every hardship in defence of Rome; of which I take the gods whom I worship to be my witnesses." As he said this, the phantom vanished. Cæsar then turning a little to the right, crossed the river; but having effected his passage, he paused on the opposite bank:-" I have rashly promised peace;" said he, "for in this case, I must relinquish my just right." From that hour he pursued Pompey with the utmost virulence, even to the death; and was himself slain afterwards by a band of conspirators. (19)

APPLICATION.

My beloved, by Pompey understand the Creator of all things; Cæsar signifies Adam,

His daughter is the Adam was placed in

who was the first man.

soul, betrothed to God. Paradise to cultivate and to guard it; but not fulfilling the condition imposed upon him, like Cæsar, he was expelled his native country. The Rubicon is baptism, by which mankind re-enters a state of blessedness.

TALE XX.

OF TRIBULATION AND ANGUISH.

IN the reign of the Emperor Conrad, there lived a certain Count called Leopold, who for some cause, fearing the indignation of his master, fled with his wife into the woods, and concealed himself in a miserable hovel. By chance the Emperor hunted there; and being carried away by the heat of the chace, lost himself in the woods, and was benighted.

6

Wandering about in various directions, he came at length to the cottage where the Count dwelt, and requested shelter. Now his hostess being at that time pregnant, and near the moment of her travail, prepared, though with some difficulty, a meal, and brought whatever he required. The same night she was delivered of a son. While the Emperor slept, a voice broke upon his ear, which seemed to say, "Take, Take, Take." He arose immediately, and with considerable alarm, said to himself, "What can that voice mean? Take! Take! Take!' What am I to take?" He reflected upon the singularity of this for a short space, and then fell asleep. But a second time, the voice addressed him, crying out, “ Restore, Restore, Restore." He awoke in very great sorrow. "What is all this?" thought he. "First, I was to Take, Take, Take,' and there is nothing for me to take. Just now the same voice exclaimed, Restore, Restore, Restore,' and what can I restore when I have taken nothing?" Unable to explain the mystery, the third time he again slept andy," it said, " for a child hy,

tha

is now born, who shall become thy son-inlaw." These words created great perplexity in the emperor; and getting up very early in the morning, he sought out two of his squires, and said, "Go and force away that child from its mother; cleave it in twain, and bring its heart to me." The squires obeyed, and snatched away the boy, as it hung at its mother's breast. But observing its very great beauty, they were moved to compassion, and placed it upon the branch of a tree, to secure it from the wild beasts; and then killing a hare, they conveyed its heart to the emperor. Soon after this, a duke travelling in the forest, passed by, and hearing the cry of an infant, searched about; and discovering it, placed it, unknown to any one, in the folds of his garment. Having no child himself, he conveyed it to his wife, and bade her nourish it as their own. The lady, pleased to execute so charitable an office, became much attached to the little foundling, whom she called Henry. The boy grew up, handsome in person and extremely ma a general faNow the emperor remarking the

vourite.

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extraordinary quickness of the youth, desired his foster-father to send him to court; where he resided a length of time. But the great estimation in which he was held by all ranks of people, caused the emperor to repent what he had done; and to fear lest he should aspire to the throne, or probably be the same, whom, as a child, he had commanded his squires to destroy. Wishing to secure himself from every possible turn of fortune, he wrote a letter with his own hand to the Queen to the following purport, "I command you, on pain of death, as soon as this letter reaches you, to put the young man to death." When it was completed, he went, by some accident into the chapel-royal, and seating himself upon a bench, fell asleep. The letter had been inclosed in a purse, which hung loosely from his girdle; and a certain priest of the place, impelled by an ungovernable curiosity, opened the purse and read the purposed wickedness. Filled with horror and indignation, he cunningly erased the passage commanding the youth's death, and wrote instead, "Give him our daughter in marriage." The writing was con