while she as earnestly insisted that she was the rightly chosen victim. Amazed to see two persons striving for the privilege of death at their hands, the butchers dragged them 5 before Charles the Bold, that he might decide the question between them. Charles was no less surprised at beholding once more the maiden and the old man who had already appeared before him, and at learning the cause of their strange 10 dispute; for he knew not yet that they were parent and child. Notwithstanding his violent disposition, the conqueror had a heart which pity could sometimes touch, and he was powerfully moved by the sight that met his eyes. 15 "I pray you hear me!" cried Télésile, throwing herself at his feet. "I am a simple maiden; my life is of no account; then let me die, my lord duke! But spare, oh, spare him, the best, the noblest of men, whose life is useful to all our unhappy people! 20 "Do not listen to her!" exclaimed the old man, almost too much affected to speak; "or if you do, let her own words confute her argument. You behold her courage, her piety, her self-sacrifice; and I see you are touched! You will not, you cannot, destroy so precious 25 a life! It is I who am now worthless to my people. My days are almost spent. Even if you spare me, I have but a little while to live." Then Télésile, perceiving the eyes of Charles bent upon her with a look of mingled admiration and pity, said: "Do not think there is anything wonderful in my conduct; I do but my simple duty; I plead for my father's life!' "Yes, I am her father," said the old man, moved by a sudden determination. "And I am something more. 5 My lord duke, behold the man on whom you have sworn to have revenge. I am he who defended the city so long against you. Now let me die!" At this a multitude of people broke from the line in which they had been ranged, and, surrounding the gov- 10 ernor and his daughter, made a rampart of their bodies about them, exclaiming, "Let us die for him! We will die for our good governor! All the better part of the rude Charles's nature was roused. Tears were in his own eyes, his voice was 15 shaken by emotion. "Neither shall die!" he cried. "Old man! fair maiden! I spare your lives and, for your sake, the lives of all these people. Nay, do not thank me; for I have gained in this interview a knowledge which I could never have acquired through years 20 of conquest that human love is greater than kingly. power, and that mercy is sweeter than vengeance!" Well would it have been for the rash Charles could he have gained that knowledge earlier, or have shaped his future life by it even then. Still fired by ambition 25 and love of power, he went forth to fight Duke René, who now appeared with an army to relieve his fair city of Nancy. A battle ensued, in which Charles was defeated and slain; and in the midst of joy and thanksgiving, the rightful duke entered and once more took possession of the town. Warmly as he was welcomed, there were two who shared with him the honors of that happy day-the 5 old man who had defended Nancy so long and well, and the young girl whose heroic conduct had saved from massacre one-tenth of all its inhabitants. HUMANITY. WILLIAM COWPER. I WOULD not enter on my list of friends Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm. AN ICEBERG. RICHARD H. DANA, JR. RICHARD HENRY DANA, JR., was born in Cambridge, Mass., in 1815, and died in 1882. He was educated at Harvard College. his eyesight became affected, and he was for a time. During his course there obliged to leave college Being advised to take a sea voyage, he shipped for California and spent two years as a common sailor. On his return he published an account of his adventures, entitled "Two Years before the Mast." This book became popular both in England and America. It is still widely read. Mr. Dana was admitted to the bar when he was twenty-five years old, and always held a prominent position as a lawyer and writer. 10 THIS day the sun rose fair, but it ran too low in the heavens to give any heat, or thaw out our sails and 15 rigging; yet the sight of it was pleasant, and we had a steady" reef-topsail breeze" from the westward. The atmosphere, which had previously been clear and cold, for the last few hours grew damp and had a disagreeable, wet chilliness in it; and the man who came from 20 the wheel said he heard the captain tell "the passenger" that the thermometer had fallen several degrees since morning, which he could not account for in any other way than by supposing that there must be ice near us, though such a thing was rarely heard of in 25 this latitude at this season of the year. At twelve o'clock we went below, and had just got through dinner when the cook put his head down the scuttle and told us to come on deck and see the finest sight that we had ever seen. "Where away, doctor?" 5 asked the first man who was up. "On the larboard bow." And there lay, floating in the ocean, several miles off, an immense, irregular mass, its top and points covered with snow, and its center of a deep indigo color. This was an iceberg, and of the largest 10 size, as one of our men said who had been in the Northern Ocean. As far as the eye could reach, the sea in every direction was of a deep blue color, the waves running high and fresh, and sparkling in the light; and in the midst lay this immense mountain-island, its cavities 15 and valleys thrown into deep shade, and its points and pinnacles glittering in the sun. All hands were soon on deck looking at it, and admiring, in various ways, its beauty and grandeur. But no description can give any idea of the strangeness, splen20 dor, and really the sublimity of the sight. Its great size, for it must have been from two to three miles in circumference, and several hundred feet in height, its slow motion, as its base rose and sank in the water and its high points nodded against the clouds; the dash25 ing of the waves upon it, which, breaking high with foam, lined its base with a white crust; and the thundering sound of the cracking of the mass, and the breaking and tumbling down of huge pieces, together with its nearness and approach, which added to a slight element |