over to the "Morris place" and see how the deacon really was.

But the fiery July sun mounted higher over the hayfields, and sunk to his bed in the crimson-piled west; the hot summer night came down, so sultry to the strong and well, and almost stifling the breath, growing ever shorter and fainter, on the lips of the dying man.

At sunset the family were gathered in the old bedroom adjoining the long, roomy kitchen. The tall, antique clock ticked solemnly; the great cat pattered up and down the floor, pausing before each one of the group, as if asking the meaning of the strange quiet that had fallen on the household, usually busy at this hour; a tame toad hopped out from its bed under the plaintain-leaves by the well-curb at the back door, and squatted upon the flat stone at the threshold, only to be stirred from its post by the footstep of a tall, bronzed, bearded man, who strode hastily into the little footpath leading around from the lane, crossed the kitchen floor, and joined the group in the bedroom.

At any other time Mrs. Morris would have turned paler, and pressed her hand to her heart, as she had a habit of doing when agitated; but now she only drew Tom's hand into hers, and whispered "Just in time,"

And David, too, awed by the Strange Presence whose noiseless footstep was creeping over the bedroom floor toward the dying man upon the pillows-he had no time for ejaculations of surprise and welcome; while Sarah-good faithful girl-scarcely stirred from her station by the bed, where she was moistening the lips of the unconscious man.

"Am I in time? Do you know me, father?" asked Tom in a husky voice, going close to the bedside, a tear stealing down the cheek browned by the kisses of ten years' foreign suns and winds.

But no response came. The dulled ear could not hear, the dimming eye could not see, the stiffening tongue could utter no word. Tom stood, vainly waiting for what did not come; and then, with a choking sensation in his throat, stepped back to his mother's side again.

Just then old Parson Meanwell, who had entered the bedroom a half hour before, knelt and offered a prayer for the sinking man; but ere it was concluded, the breath had fluttered out from his pale, blue lips. And so Deacon Morris "died and made no sign."

The neighbours talked it over that nightabout Tom's return. "What a pity that the two younger girls couldn't have been there, too! But the despatch didn't reach them in season. It was singular that Tom should have got there just in time!"

The funeral was large, as befitted a deacon of the Orthodox Church. All the deacon's good points "the upbuilding of Zion," in which he had assisted-"the great loss to his family, which could never be repaired," were dwelt upon in the lengthy sermon and the prayer; and then they laid him away in the grave hollowed beside the tiny mound raised there nearly thirty

years before, beneath which slept the first-born little Hannah, and the later one which held the buried baby-boy, last link between the mother's heart and Heaven.

But by-and-by-when the estate came to be settled, and it was known how many broad acres that grasping man had owned, and how many thousands were left, invested in bankstocks or in mortgages on farms wide-scattered through the country-there were not wanting those who said:

"Perhaps, after all, it was the hand of Providence that took Deacon Morris away. His family can have some privileges now. Tom will stay at home, of course, and he and David manage the farm; and the girls wont need to go away and earn their living, with all that property left to be divided amongst them."

But it was too late. Habit becomes second nature. The seed had been sown, and the harvest must be reaped.

Money and lands were left for the inheritance of Deacon Morris's children, to be sure; but it could not benefit them now as it might have in earlier years.

Had not Tom-high-spirited, passionate, but noble-hearted Tom-been driven from his boy hood's home by his father's harshness and the denial of the harmless indulgencies and relaxations necessary to his years, he would not have now felt the rover's unquenchable craving for the ten-year-gone life of adventure on foreign shores, to which, after a few months at the old homestead, he returned again.

Had not David-at fourteen, high-browed, earnest-eyed, and with a scholar's ambition in his active brain-been dwarfed and mentally starved, while his young, growing frame was made an instrument for the commonest labour er's toils, he would not, at twenty-four, have settled into hopeless inertness and stolidity, careing for nothing beyond the rounds of the farm on which he remained, and at length marrying a commonplace girl, whose mind was of lower type of cultivation than his own, thus precluding the oftimes privilege of the wife lift ing her husband out of the slough into which lack of early education or depraving circum stances may have cast him.

Had not Sarah-the good, faithful, practical elder daughter-witnessing the example of her hard-working mother, been brought up to think all of her sex born to fill the niche of household drudge, she would never have made her own life an exact copy of that mother's, and resigned the control of her own inheritance to the close-fisted, calculating farmer, who sought her hand because he reckoned rightly that she would become a "smart," "capable," "working" wife to help him acquire more property.

And Mattie and Dollie, too! Lively, pretty, apt girls, who, under the discipline of educa tion and cultivated society, would have ripened into sensible, intelligent women, who would have influenced for the better all with whom they came in contact; had their youth been cast under fostering circumstances, how widely

different might have proved their future! With no yearning for the city's gayest pleasures the theatre, the concert-hall, and and ball-room -as courted by the mediocre class of the social scale with whom they mingled-with more elevated ideas and a higher standard, they would never have gone back to the city to become the wives of fast young men, who married them for their portions, and then led them lives of neglect and unhappiness.

And the poor, hard-working mother-what of her? Ah, when the iron hand was lifted, it was too late. The springs of her life had been sapped long before, For a few years she went

about in an absent, quiet sort of way-missing the stern rule to which she had for so long been accustomed; and then she died.

The neighbours said "it was the oldfashioned consumption. Folks always dropped away sudden with it, at last." Of wha treal use was Deacon Morris's wealth? What good seed did he sow in his life? Little, we judge; for the harvest reaped was scanty and blighted; and the Dead Sea Apples, whose taste is like ashes, were put to his family's lips. And it might have been so different for them all.

Ah! are not the lives of all men like Deacon Morris's, sad mistakes?

THE

The city of Katharia, until recently, had no place in any book before the public, or known to scholars. It belongs to the most ancient period of uninspired history, lying just beyond the age illustrated in the "Iliad" of Homer and the "Eneid" of Virgil. The existence of this city in that remote antiquity, and its tragical fall, have lately been brought to light by the discovery, in the Vatican Library at Rome, of a volume of surpassing interest, entitled, "A History of the War of the Allies and the Kathari, by Pherecydes of Syros." The internal and external evidences attending this book or roll prove it, beyond a doubt, to be the oldest known manuscript in existence-dating with the earliest use of alphabetic writing-and to be a genuine writing of the ancient historian whose name is attached to it, who preceded Herodotus nearly a hundred years, and who has been known hitherto only by references and fragments in the collections of Anaximines and Diodorus Siculus. It is written in Doric Greek. Its style is very simple, and purely narrative, reminding us much of that of the Old Testament Scriptures. It has upon it labels and other marks, which show that it belonged to the library of Pisistratus in Athens," which was transported by Xerxes into Persia, and afterwards brought back by Seleucus Nicanor to Athens, where it was plundered by Sylla, by whom, it is probable, this volume was carried to Rome. Of its resting-place from that time whether in the Ulpian or Palatine, and after their destruction in some other public or private library of Rome-to the founding of the Vatican in 1450, we know nothing. In the Vatican it was buried beneath a heap of valueless manuscripts-the taste of the age for scholastic and theological literature causing it to be neglected and left unexamined-where it remained until its recent disinterment.

The city of Katharia, whose history is narrated in this volume, was situated in the central and mountainous region of the Greek Peninsula, north of Etolia, and east of Arcarnania. In population and wealth it seems never to have equalled Thebes, Athens, Argos, or Sparta, but was more ancient, and in civilization earlier advanced, than any of the other cities of Greece. It was founded soon after the Greek tribes began to emerge from their barbarous state, when, finding the necessity of banding together for protection against the universal rapine and plunder in the country, they began to gather in centres and to build the cities which became the heads of almost as many independent states. It was located in this least fertile region of the country, to be out of the way of banditti, who infested the richer sections, and, thus far from the sea, to avoid the robbers-almost as numerous upon that element as upon the land. When, in the course of time, the reasons governing this location were removed, by the general advancement of civilization, the restriction upon the growth in population, wealth, and power which it imposed remained, and barred the prospect of a successful race, in respect of these, with the cities of the plains and the seaboard. It needed not the severe laws imposed upon the Lacedemonians to secure simplicity in the habits and tastes of its people. The limited supplies of the region and the slender resources for trade compelled to the practice of industry and frugality. With these habits grew up the virtues which are usually found united with them. The people, in general, were just, truthful, unambitious, temperate, chaste, and obedient to the laws. Crime was of rare occurrence, and, when it occurred, was severely punished. Virtuous and united, they were happy and free.

The government of Katharia was republican.

It was the first of Grecian cities or states to throw off monarchy. The public affairs were administered by a senate of thirty men chosen by the people, called the Triakas, twenty of whom must unite in any measure proposed before it should become a law; failing of which number, any proposition nearly dividing them must be referred to the popular Assembly for decision. This reference, however, seldom was inade--and never except on great occasions and dangerous crises in public affairs-owing to the virtue and intelligence of the people in excluding party strifes, and in selecting only worthy men for this high office, and to the wisdom and harmony of the men chosen. The responsibility for the execution of the laws was laid upon the President of the Triakatioi, who was chosen by that body out of their own number. The Triakas also exercised judicial powers, hearing and deciding all differences between citizens that could not be settled privately by calling in three neighbours as umpires. Serious litigation was of rare occurrence; and no class of professional advocates or attorneys existed in the little commonwealth, the Triak atioi themselves appointing one of their number to assist each of the parties appearing before them, and inflicting a penalty upon anyone found to have shown an unjustly litigious spirit. The laws were few and mild and wise, such as were suited to a people who had not been corrupted by tyranny or avarice or the lust of foreign conquests, and retained the utmost simplicity in taste and living. They jealously provided for the maintenance of private faith and the public credit-enjoining with greatest stress and using their highest sanctions to secure truth and honour and fair dealing between citizens, and the faithful payment of dues and duties to the state, as the cardinal virtues necessary to make a good government. As a check to both the accumulation and the contraction of debt, they had a provision for its expiration after a definite period, something like the Sabbatical year and the Jubilee of the Jews, from whom it may have been borrowed. For the protection of the state-strictly for defence and not for aggression-the whole adult male population, except those disqualified by sickness or the infirmities of age, were brought into a military organization, and practised regularly in the handling of arms and the movements of the field. The youth were trained from an early period to warlike exercises. Their physical development-from these exercises and their simple habits and avocations-their tall stature and muscular frames, and skill in the use of weapons, made them formidable adversaries in those ancient days, when conflicts were hand-to-hand, and were decided by personal prowess and strength.

The religion of the Kathari was an elevated Monotheism and Rationalism. They made no claim to a divine revelation, and held to pure reason as the only guide to religious truth, yet practised a number of rites which again remind us of the Jews, and which go to prove some in

tercourse with that people, as between the Jews and Lacedemonians in the time of Jonathan Maccabeus. They worshipped one God in a costly temple, with prayers and sacrifices of birds and of beasts. They attached the Lighest importance to individual purity, and as an em blem of it to cleanliness of person, and per- || formed frequent ablutions as a religious ordinance. They held the doctrine of the immortality of the soul, but in connection with metempsychosis, which they believed to be a continuous progression up to the highest state of endless felicity.

The relations of the Kathari to the surrounding kingdoms were disturbed and unhappy, from the time of their deposition of their last king, and their abolition of monarchy. The jealousy and hostility of the neighbouring princes were shown for some years in a series of encroach. ments, which rendered resistance necessary, and occasioned frequent collisions in arms with the separate states, in which the rights and power of the republic were always maintained. At length this deep-seated and long-growing hos tility eventuated in a league of the monarchical powers for the destruction of Katharia. A long war ensued; the arms of the republic were victorious upon many a field. The war was car ried to the very gates of the enemy. In the progress of the wasting strife, however, it became evident that the republic must be overwhelmed. Its resources were too feeble compared with those of the powerful allied enemy. Its supply of men was being daily exhausted, whilst that of the allies was constantly renewed. At last its valiant army, greatly reduced in numbers, was beaten in the field, and fell back toward the city, followed by the victorious enemy. Phrontistes, the general commanding, sent before him a messenger to the president of the Triakation, informing him of his retreat, of the approach of the enemy, and of his inability to give battle with the hope of success, and asking for orders. The Triakas was summoned for deliberation. The assembly was grave and solemn : there was deep solicitude marked on each brow, but no craven fear in any breast. All were agreed that resistance should be made, even to extermination, and that the last available man in the city must be sent forth to the conflict; but it was determined first to call an assembly of the peo ple. In obedience to the summons of their magistrates, the people came out in great multitudes. The smith left his forge and the unfinished weapon upon the anvil, the baker his ovens, the physician the bedside of the sick and dying; the lame hobbled along on their crutches; the old men came out, and even the women and the boys were there. The presi dent of the Triakas made a brief statement of the conflict that had been forced upon them, of the long-sustained toils and valour of their sol diers in the field, of their final defeat and retreat before overwhelming numbers, and of the approach of the enemy to their gates; and concluded by calling upon the assembly to give their voices, whether they should submit and