reigned throughout the house; the preacher removing his white handkerchief from his aged face (even yet wet from the recent torrent of his tears) and, slowly stretching forth the palsied hand which holds it, begins the sentence, "Socrates died like a philosopher"—then paus- · ing, raising his other hand, pressing them both clasped together with warmth and energy to his breast, lifting his sightless eyes to heaven, and pouring his whole soul into his tremulous voice-" but Jesus Christ like a God!" If he had been in deed and in truth an angel of 10 light, the effect could scarcely have been more divine.

Whatever I had been able to conceive of the sublimity of Massillon," or the force of Bourdaloue," had fallen far short of the power which I felt from the delivery of this simple sentence. The blood, which just before had 15 rushed in a hurricane upon my brain, and in the violence and agony of my feelings had held my whole system in suspense, now ran back into my heart with a sensation which I cannot describe a kind of shuddering delicious horror! The paroxysm of blended pity and indignation, to which I had been transported subsided into the deepest self-abasement, humility, and adoration. I had just been lacerated and dissolved by sympathy for our Saviour as a fellow-creature; but now, with fear and trembling, I adored him as-" God!"

If this description give you the impression that this incomparable minister had anything of shallow, theatrical trick in his manner, it does him great injustice. I have never seen in any other orator such a union of simplicity and majesty. He has not a gesture, an attitude, or an accent to which he does not seem forced by the sentiment which he is expressing. His mind is too serious, too earnest, too solicitous, and, at the same time, too dignified, to stoop to artifice. Although as far re

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moved from ostentation as a man can be, yet it is clear, from the train, the style and substance of his thoughts, that he is not only a very polite scholar, but a man of extensive and profound erudition. I was forcibly struck with a short yet beautiful character which he drew of 5 our learned and amiable countryman Sir Robert Boyle:" he spoke of him as if "his noble mind had, even before death, divested herself of all influence from his frail tabernacle of flesh;" and called him, in his peculiarly emphatic and impressive manner, "a pure intelligence; the 10 link between men and angels."

This man has been before my imagination almost ever since. A thousand times, as I rode along, I dropped the reins of my bridle, stretched forth my hand, and tried to imitate his quotation from Rousseau; a thousand times 15 I abandoned the attempt in despair, and felt persuaded that his peculiar manner and power arose from an energy of soul which nature could give, but which no human being could justly copy. In short, he seems to be altogether a being of a former age, or of a totally differ-20 ent nature from the rest of men.

As I recall, at this moment, several of his awfully striking attitudes, the chilling tide with which my blood begins to pour along my arteries reminds me of the emotions produced by the first sight of Gray's introductory picture of his bard:

“On a rock, whose haughty brow

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Frowns o'er old Conway's foaming flood,
Robed in the sable garb of woe,

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With haggard eyes the poet stood

(Loose his beard and hoary hair

Streamed, like a meteor, to the troubled air),
And with a poet's hand and prophet's fire
Struck the deep sorrows of his lyre."

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VI.

THE SPANIARDS' RETREAT FROM MEXICO.

BY WILLIAM HICKLING PRESCOTT.'

THERE was no longer any question as to the expedi ency of evacuating the capital. The only doubt was as to the time of doing so, and the route. The Spanish commander called a council of officers to deliberate on these matters. It was his purpose to retreat on Tlascala, and in that capital to decide, according to circumstances, on his future operations. After some discussion they agreed on the causeway of Tlacopan* as the avenue by which to leave the city. It would, indeed, take them back by a circuitous route, considerably longer than ei-10 ther of those by which they had approached the capital. But for that reason it would be less likely to be guarded, as least suspected; and the causeway itself, being shorter than either of the other entrances, would sooner place the army in comparative security on the mainland. 18

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The general's first care was to provide for the safe transportation of the treasure. Many of the common soldiers had converted their share of the prize into gold chains, collars, or other ornaments, which they easily carried about their persons. But the royal fifth, to-20 gether with that of Cortés himself, had been converted into bars and wedges of solid gold, and deposited in one of the strong apartments of the palace. Cortés delivered the share belonging to the Crown to the royal officers, assigning them one of the strongest horses and a

guard of Castilian soldiers to transport it. Still much of the treasure, belonging both to the Crown and to individuals, was necessarily abandoned, from the want of adequate means of conveyance. The metal lay scattered in shining heaps along the floor, exciting the cupidity of the soldiers. "Take what you will of it," said Cortés to his men. "Better you should have it than these Mexican hounds. But be careful not to overload yourselves. He travels safest in the dark night who travels lightest."

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The general had already superintended the construction of a portable bridge to be laid over the open canals in the causeway. This was given in charge to an officer named Magarino, with forty soldiers under his orders, all pledged to defend the passage to the last ex-15 tremity. The bridge was to be taken up when the entire army had crossed one of the breaches, and transported to the next. There were three of these openings in the causeway, and most fortunate would it have been for the expedition if the foresight of the commander 20 had provided the same number of bridges. But the labor would have been great, and the time was short.

At midnight the troops were under arms, in readiness. for the march. Mass was performed by Father Olmedo, who invoked the protection of the Almighty through the awful perils of the night. The gates were thrown open, and on the 1st of July, 1520, the Spaniards for the last time sallied forth from the walls of the ancient fortress, the scene of so much suffering and such indomitable courage.

The night was cloudy, and a drizzling rain, which fell without intermission, added to the obscurity. The great square before the palace was deserted, as, indeed, it had been since the fall of Montezuma.' Steadily, and

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as noiselessly as possible, the Spaniards held their way along the great street of Tlacopan, which so lately had resounded with the tumult of battle. All was now hushed in silence, and they were only reminded of the past by the occasional presence of some solitary corpse or a dark heap of the slain, which too plainly told where the strife had been hottest. As they passed along the lanes and alleys which opened into the great street, or looked down the canals, whose` polished surface gleamed with a sort of ebon luster through the ob-10 scurity of night, they easily fancied that they discerned the shadowy forms of their foe lurking in ambush and ready to spring upon them. But it was only fancy; and the city slept undisturbed even by the prolonged echoes of the tramp of the horses and the hoarse rum-15 bling of the artillery and baggage trains. At length a lighter space beyond the dusky line of buildings showed the van of the army that it was emerging on the open causeway. They might well have congratulated themselves on having thus escaped the dangers of an assault 20 in the city itself, and that a brief time would place them in comparative safety on the opposite shore. But the Mexicans were not all asleep.

As the Spaniards drew near the spot where the street opened on the causeway, and were preparing to lay the 25 portable bridge across the uncovered breach, which now met their eyes, several Indian sentinels, who had been stationed at this, as at the other approaches to the city, took the alarm and fled, rousing their countrymen by their cries. The priests, keeping their night watch on 80 the summit of the teocallis, instantly caught the tidings and sounded their shells, while the huge drum in the desolate temple of the war god sent forth those solemn tones which, heard only in seasons of calamity, vibrated