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church. Close by it rose up a dilapidated edifice, upon the site of the castle within whose walls St. Bernard first saw the light. It is now inhabited by a farmer, and being a private dwelling, we could not gain access to it; but adjoining the house is a very pretty little chapel, dedicated to St. Bernard, and standing upon the very spot where he was born. We entered it with two or three peasant girls, who immediately prostrated themselves before the statue of the saint, which stands above the altar. On either side of the chancel was an ancient bronze relief, representing “ Melchisedec's priesthood, a type of Christ,” and “Isaac's sacrifice, a type of Christ's.” “We pay great respect to St. Bernard in this place,” observed the girl, who was our guide; and then she related the well-known tradition, that his mother in a moment of peril and of fear, had taken refuge in a cellar beneath the spot whereupon we were standing, and that there he was born. Part of the old moated wall in front of his father's castle, as also two of the ancient arched gateways, still exist. The rest of the buildings are of a more modern date. It was with a mingled feeling of awe and pleasure, that we stood upon the castle hill and gazed down upon the vine-clad plains of Burgundy, which stretched far away before us, bounded by the distant line of the Jura, while near at hand lay outspread the ancient city of Dijon, with its massive churches and Burgundian palace, rising up bold and proud amid the substantial dwellings of the citizens. On this self-same spot, doubtless, had St. Bernard often stood in thoughtful childhood, gazing out into the far shadowy distance; and while his eye was directed towards the east, may he not haply then have cherished his earliest visions of conquest over the Moslem and the infidel? How unchanged has been the outward aspect of this rich and noble landscape since the day when he beheld it! How changed is all beside!

We could gladly have whiled away many an hour here before returning to the plain, but had not leisure to do so. The parish church stood invitingly open, and as we approached it, the voice of song met our ear. We found an interesting little congregation assembled within its walls, consisting of the village children and their priest. They were all singing a hymn—the air at once we recognized as that which is so commonly sung in our infant schools, to the words, “Oh! that will be joyful, joyful!" For a moment we might have fancied ourselves in dear old England again; but the illusion was necessarily a brief one, for we found the burden of the song here was: “Venons à Jesu et Marie;"

and the latter word was so frequently repeated, that it seemed to be the master-key of the whole. Yes, “ Marie” was the name upon which these young hearts were taught to dwell with the fondness of hope and love, rather than on that name " which is above every name," and which alone may rightly claim the adoring homage of the universe.

On returning to the village, we observed a small antique image placed in a niche outside one of the houses, and bearing a scroll with this device : “ Dieu est un Esprit, et celui qui l'adore, doit l'adore, en esprit et en verité."* Three or four youths were passing along, bearing over their shoulders long poles and winetubs in the manner already described. We inquired of them whether that was St. Bernard ? “No, St. Martin," was the brief reply

Another contradicted him, saying it was St. Antoine. “I thought that St. Bernard was your patron saint here," observed one of our party. “But do not think that he is our only saint," said one of them, brusquely; and then he went on naming St. Martin, St. Antoine, as well as other saints in the calendar; and while he and his companions continued their way down the village with the wine-pails swinging between them, we overheard a loud and animated discussion as to who the niched saint really was.

We returned by a path which led us to the other end of Dijon a new quartier, where there are houses and crescents built professedly à l'Anglaise. In a wide open space stood a colossal statue of St. Bernard in bronze, with his hand outstretched, as if addressing the multitude; a fine statue and a noble attitude. The Gothic pedestal whereon it rests is sustained by a circling group of admirably-carved statues, representing the friends and contemporaries of St. Bernard, amongst whom were Peter the Hermit (le Venerable), Eugène III., Hugues le Bon, Louis le Quene, &c., &c. A crowd of people were gathered around the statue, which had been very recently "inaugurated,” and divers were the shades of feeling with which it seemed to be regarded. Some turned away with a grimace; some shrugged their shoulders with careless nonchalance, as if it were a matter of unimportance whether the saint was there or not. A mother was gazing upward at it with her son, a boy of eleven or twelve years old. Here at least we expected to find some mark of reverence ; but no, they were comparing it with the statue of some general which they

* God is a Spirit, and he who worships Him, must worship Him, in spirit and in truth.


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had recently seen, and the woman observed that he was “ a betterlooking man, and not so thin as him up there.” A priest was standing there with folded arms; and it was evident from his look and attitude that he regarded the multitude with no kindly aspect. For ourselves, we gazed with pleasure upon this noble work of art, which seemed to us a worthy homage to so great and good a man; but we liked still better to think of him in his early days of childhood at Fontaine, dwelling in the tranquil companionship of nature, and gathering in wisdom and strength for the battle-field of life; nor can we ever remember without a feeling of thankful gladness our visit on this pleasant autumn day to the birthplace of St. Bernard.


ACCOUNT of a curious relic discovered and taken from an ancient Tomb in St. Paul's Cathedral. The account is derived from an old manuscript of the seventeenth century.

In Ecclesia Sancti Pauli. At the upper end of the south vault above stairs, it is worthy not to be forgotten, that within these few years (viz. anno. 1608) a stone being taken up and a vault digged to inter the body of Sir Richard Swale, there was found a coffin, having within it the corpse of one Sir Gerard Braybroke, a famous knight who lived in the reigns of King Edward III. and King Richard II., and was there buried almost two hundred and fifty years before, which appears not by any monument remaining above ground, but by the Pope's pardon granted to the said Sir Gerard and his lady, engrossed on parchment, and laid betwixt the wooden coffin and the lead upon his breast. The

his breast. The true copy of which pardon I having procured, is here following presented to your view in Latin, according to the original. And besides, there were found certain herbs with the said pardon, which retained their perfect scent or odour, as is credibly reported by some that saw and smelt them, which is both strange and memorable.

This pardon, they say, was shown to King James (I.), who, after he had seen it, they say he commanded it should be put into the coffin again with the corpse of the knight, who, he said, “had, it was probable, paid dear enough for it.”

The following is the translation of the pardon as given in the

MS. :

“Boniface IX., Bishop of Rome, servant of the servants of God; to the noble gentleman our well-beloved son, Gerard Braybroke the younger, within the diocese of Lincoln, Knight; and to the noble lady our wellbeloved daughter, Elizabeth his wife, sendeth greeting and apostolical benediction. The love of your devotion, wherewith ye respectively reverence us and the Roman Church, hath so wrought, that we do vouchsafe graciously to hear your petitions; those especially which concern your souls' health : hence it is, that we being inclined to your supplications, do give permission that the confessor, whom either of you shall think meet to be chosen, may be able by the tenour of these presents, once only in the very issue of life and death, to grant unto your devotion by the authority apostolical, full remission of all your sins, for the which ye have in heart been sorry, and whereof ye shall have made confession by word of mouth. Provided that ye persist and abide in the sincerity of the apostolical faith, and of the Holy Roman Church, and in the obedience and devotion of us or the bishops of Rome, canonically entering and succeeding us. Yet so as for those sins, whereof in this life satisfaction is to be made to others, your said confessor do enjoin ye by yourselves severally, if you survive, or by your heirs, if then happily ye depart this life, to satisfy. Which satisfaction 'ye or they are bound to perform according to the promises. And lest, by reason of this grace, yo become more prone to commit unlawful acts hereafter, which God forbid ! our will is, if by chance upon the confidence and hope of pardon, ye commit the like, that is, concerning these sins so committed, the pardon aforesaid should in nowise help. Be it therefore lawful for no man whatsoever to infringe this writing containing our grant and pleasure, or boldly to countermand it. But if any shall presume to attempt it, let him know that he shall incur the indignation of Almighty God, and of his blessed apostles St. Peter and St. Paul.

“ Dated at Rome, at St. Peter's, the 5th of June, in the second year of our popedom, A.D. 1390.”

Sealed with a ball of lead.

The following inscription was found upon a monument fixed to a pillar in old St. Paul's Cathedral, and is taken from the same manuscript :

“ William Lambe, so sometime was my name,
Who whiles alive did runne my mortal race,
Serving a Prince of most immortal fame,
Henry the Eighth, who of his princely grace,
In his Chapell allowed me a place.
By whose favoure, from Gentleman to Esquire,
I was preferred, with worship for my hire.
With wives three I did joyne in Wedlocks band,
Which all, alive, true Lovers were to me,
Joan, Alice, and Joan; for so they came to hand,
What needeth prayse regarding their degrée ;
In wively truth none stedfast more could be,
Who though in Earth death's force did once dissever,
Heaven yet, I trust, shall join us all together.

O Lambe of God, which sinne did take away
And as a Lambe, was offered up for sinne,
Where I (poore Lambe) went from thy flock astray,
Yet thou, good Lord, vouchsafe thy Lambe to winne
Home to thy folde, and hold thy Lambe therein;
That, at the day, when Lambes and Goats shall sever,

Of thy choice Lambes, Lambe may be one for ever.”
At the foot of the same monument was the following couplet :-

“I pray you all that receive bread and pence,
To say the Lord's prayer before you goe hence.”


It is not yet forty years ago since an association was formed at Washington, designated the American Colonization Society, for colonizing the free people of colour of the United States. It was hoped by the founders of this society, that many slaves would be made free by their owners, in order that they might be sent to the colony-a hope which has not been disappointed.

Liberia—the oak growing from this acorn-with the virtuallyincluded colony at Cape Palmas, is now a territory of not less than twenty thousand square miles, with a population of about twelve thousand colonists and three hundred and forty thousand natives. The whole of the coast from the colony of Sierra Leone to Cape Palmas—a distance of about five hundred miles—is under the jurisdiction of the new commonwealth. Monrovia, the capital of Liberia—a town of two thousand inhabitants, with a fort, a lighthouse, a courthouse, schools, churches, and literary associations-occupies the site of what was once the chief slave-mart of the Grain Coast; and as a proof of the perseverance, and still more of the philanthropy, which has been manifested in this undertaking, nearly one hundred white men have perished whilst helping to found the colony of Liberia.

After an attempt to occupy Sherboro Island, the American flag was hoisted on Cape Montserrado, on the 25th of April 1822. A storm soon burst upon the infant colony; for in November a thousand savages, armed with muskets and cutlasses, attacked the feeble settlement. Happily the governor was a man of singular energy and prudence. The attack was repelled, though the fate of the colonists seemed sealed in the early part of the contest. Very shortly afterwards, a second and still fiercer attack made, but this also was defeated.

The colonists were now in a critical situation. A besieging force


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