he drew nearer he saw that the figure at the window was Hester; and that she left it suddenly. He did not wait to have the door opened for him, he knew the trick of the handle too well. He turned it, and stood in the hall, and saw Hester there, making a sign to him to be silent.

"Hush! he is asleep."

And then they went into the diningroom, and Ralph, with a quick recollection of his last visit there, went up to the mantelpiece. He liked to stand on the spot where he had been so miserable in his sudden awakening and dismay. He wondered if Hester remembered it, and if she had understood it.

One thing she understood, which the first glance at his face had taught her. Whatever the nature of that something that had come between them, it was gone

now.

"Do you remember the last time I stood here ?" he asked. "You do. Hester, once I proposed to myself a foolish resolution. That night I was conscious, for the first time, of having broken it long ago. Some time I will tell you more about it, if you care to hear. Now I can think of nothing but the joy of seeing you again. You will forgive me, won't you ?”

"For what?"

"That false claim of brotherhood. I never did care for you like a brother. I care for you like a greedy man who wants a treasure all to himself. Do you know that, Hester? I want to take you away-my wife."

There was no need to tell him she knew it. There was no need perhaps to go over

the story of those past months, which must have been old to both of them, but they did go over it.

And then Richard Dudley heard that the curate was come, and sent for him. He looked at them both from under his bushy eyebrows, and divined. To-night

he put away his bits of philosophy, his axioms, and proverbs, into a quiet corner, for he saw that they would be unheeded. And he wished the curate joy of his renewed health, and that tide in the affairs of men which had turned now in his favour.

Nevertheless," he added, "a popular preacher is my abhorrence."

"And mine," said Ralph, quietly.

"I have given up all idea of counsel to-night. In your present state of exaltation it would fall on barren ground, therefore I generously lay down my favourite weapon. Only one thing I have to remind you of, which I shall beg to do while it runs in my head."

"Both of us?" inquired Ralph.
Richard Dudley groaned.

"Both of you! Ay, I understand the query. Well, then, yes; both of you. Don't expect too much. A curate universally popular is a phoenix. There is a fable wondrous wise concerning a deluded old gentleman who carried his donkey on his shoulders, and yet could not steer clear of the charge of cruelty to animals. I should say that the fabulis; intended to point, under the guise of that old man, to a young curate in a populous parish, in the year of grace -"—From Churchman's Magazine.

18

MIDNIGHT DEVOTION.-Dr. Floyd, a religious Divine, preaching a sermon at the funeral of Archbishop Williams, extolled the most reverend Father's devotion, that from the heavy time of the King's death, he rose every midnight out of his bed, and having nothing but his shirt and waistcoat upon him, kneeled on his bare knees, and prayed earnestly and strongly one quarter of an hour, before he went to his rest again. I will inform Dr. Floyd in two

things which he knew not: 1st. He observed the season of midnight because the Scriptures speak of Christ's coming to judge the quick and the dead at midnight. 2. The matter of his prayer was principally this; "Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly, and put an end to these days of sin and misery." So much I learnt from himself, and so report it.-(Hacket's Life of Archbishop Williams, p. 226.)

HATEVER difficulty there may be in assigning exact dates to the remains of Roman workmanship at Trèves, there is no doubt that it was a flourishing Roman city as early as the time of Augustus. Although very much has been de stroyed, the little that remains shews that it was at that time an important tow-perhaps the most important belonging to the Roman Empire-in this part of Europe. The one large gate which is shewn in the engraving is probably but a sample of what three others were like, and of which no remains exist now: the site itself of the remaining gates is even very doubtful.

The history of the place, as recorded by the classical writers, is but scanty. Julius Cæsar himself mentions finding a flourishing city amongst the Treviri, who became powerful allies of the Romans; and afterwards the Emperor Augustus appears to have established a Roman colony there, and the place was hence called Augusta Trevirorum. During the fourth century the Roman Emperors often resorted here; for between the years 313 and 390, one hundred and seven imperial edicts were dated from Trèves. Coustautine himself resored hither, and, according to the legend, built a palace for the Empress Helena, the remains of which are now seen in the present cathe dral. There is no doubt of the Roman character of much of this building, but whether transformed into a church in the time of Constantine, and consecrated by St. Agritius, the same bishop who was present at the Council of Arles in 314, must be left a matter of doubt. It is more than probable, from the circumstance of Constantine's residing there, and from there evidently being a bishop here, that a church of some kind was erected; but as regards the remains of the present building, as far as the Roman portion is concerned, it is quite possible that they were originally a part of the palace, and afterwards mace

use of when the present cathedral was built.

Besides the work of the time of Contantine in the church, there are remains in the present Palace of the Electors and Bishops of a vast building having an apse, like the Roman basilicas, or justicehalls, which under Constantine were in so many instances converted into churches. This building at Trèves has now been used for a church, but whether or not originally is doubtfu'.

Besides these remains, there are also traces of the great Thermæ, which were extensive structures, containing more than baths only. In many of the Thermæ were recreation courts, theatres, and even temples. What remain are the chambers containing the heating apparatus and vau ted celtars, besides remains of the pipes for conveying the water from ore part of the building to another.

Outside the eastern side of the town are the remains of the Amphitheatre. It is scooped out of the side of the hill, and till within a few years past had been filled up with earth, but this has now been cleared out to the depth of twenty feet, which enables us to judge of its original size. It must have held some six thousand persons; but all the terraces, which were probably of arched brickwork, whence the spectators could see the games, have been destroyed. Historically, it is connected with a scene which we cannot look back upon without horror. The chroni clers of the time tell us-and they tell us rather glorying in the entertainmentthat in the year A.D. 306, and again in A.D. 313, the Emperor delighted the inhabitants with what were called the Ludi Francici, and whieh consisted in exposing several thousands of the poor Frankish prisoners who had fallen into their hands, in this va t arena, and letting out upon them the wild beast. Unarmed as they were, the beasts soon slew them by hundreds, but being satiated, left some of the prisoners alive. These even were not spared, but