ours. But there was a time when ecclesiastical councils ruled public opinion. When giants made the law and applied it, few dared complain, and they got their bones broken for their pains. Now the case is different. Public opinion, though often an unclean beast, is mightier than the breath of an ecclesiastical council. Had the state of things been different, had public opinion lifted up its seven heads and ten horns against the Pastor, and not in his favor, we should have expected a very different "Result in Council." We cannot but fancy the latent venom of that most extraordinary paper would have been obvious and not to be mistaken. As a piece of diplomacy, designed to serve many ends, it strikes us as worthy of a college of Jesuits. Higher praise in the diplomatic line it were difficult to win. The whole thing reminds us powerfully of an old story, which we are sorry to be the first to record. But the story tells, that it came to pass in the latter days, when Kilsol was High Priest, and the candlestick of the Lord flourished in its place, that the sons of the chosen people waxed valiant, and the children of Levi (to his name be praise) began to prevail in the land of Bagdat, where the seed of the dispersion were gathered together. But iniquity did abound through the pride of heart that was in the sons of Belial, not fearing the Lord. The Priests were busy with the sacrifice; the Scribes with the law; the Pharisees were enlarging the borders of their garments. These had no time to take heed to the sins of the people. Then arose Zadok and began to prophecy. The spirit of the Lord came upon him. He opened his mouth and rebuked the men of Belial, who eat the wages of iniquity. He lifted the veil from the Scribes and Pharisees. He spared not the sellers of purple and fine linen, those that sold and bought in the temple. Yea, he smote them hip and thigh. The people said, "This is Elias come back from the sky; the chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof; blessed be Zadok, a prophet in the latter days; the God of Abram shall fight for him," for the people heard him gladly.

Then gathered together the council, even the great Sanhedrim, to consider what must be done. There were assembled the Rabbis from the east and the west, from the isles of the south and the tents of Gog el Rush.

They sat in the hall of council which is in the ward of the Weavers. They brought diverse charges against Zadok. They said, "He hath a devil, and is mad; he hath spoken lies against such as buy and sell; he hath stirred up the elders on the Sabbath days, and exhorted the young men in the time of the new moons; he hath been wroth in holy places, and we cannot bear him." The Scribes swore by their beard that they would cut him off. But the witnesses, who witnessed against him, agreed not in their speech, but were confounded. Then the elders were troubled, and said, "God do so and more unto us, if we do not overturn him; for if he be suffered to live we be all dead men." Four days they sat in silence, with their beards divided. At last the daugther of the voice came upon Rabbi Kozeb the Beth Din, and he spake with his mouth, "Alas, woe hath come upon the seed of Abraham because of this Zadok. If we condemn him not, -and God forbid that we let him escape, then the people will condemn us, because we prophecy not as Zadok, but say, 'Peace, when there is no peace,' and we shall be undone. If we condemn him without witnesses against him, we fear the people, for they count him a prophet, and son of God, albeit they repent of his violence. Go to now, let us speak him fairly with our tongues, but with our actions let us cut him to the soul. Let us insinuate evil in good words; thus shall we overthrow him, and get favor with the people, and become men of renown." Some said, "Nay, for then innocent blood shall be upon our hands." But the saying of Rabbi Kozeb pleased the council, and they said, "It is the voice of a God, not of a man. Let him live forever, and let his posterity be like the sons and nephews of Abdon, the son of Hillel." And they followed his saying until this day.

P.

THE MOON.

Time wears her not; she doth his chariot guide; Mortality below her orb is placed.

RALEIGH.

THE full-orbed moon with unchanged ray
Mounts up the eastern sky,

Not doomed to these short nights for aye,
But shining steadily.

She does not wane, but my

fortune,

Which her rays do not bless, My wayward path declineth soon, But she shines not the less.

And if she faintly glimmers here,
And paled is her light,

Yet alway in her proper sphere

She's mistress of the night.

T.

TO THE MAIDEN IN THE EAST.

Low in the eastern sky

Is set thy glancing eye;

And though its gracious light
Ne'er riseth to my sight,

Yet every star that climbs
Behind the gnarled limbs
Of yonder hill,
Conveys thy gentle will.

Believe I knew thy thought,
And that the zephyrs brought
Thy kindest wishes through,
As mine they bear to you,
That some attentive cloud
Did pause amid the crowd

Over my head,

While gentle things were said.

It was a summer eve,
The air did gently heave,
While yet a low-hung cloud
Thy eastern skies did shroud;
The lightning's silent gleam
Startling my drowsy dream,
Seemed like the flash
Under thy dark eyelash.

From yonder comes the sun,
But soon his course is run,
Rising to trivial day

Along his dusty way,
But thy noontide completes
Only auroral heats,

Nor ever sets,

To hasten vain regrets.

Direct thy pensive eye
Into the western sky;
And when the evening star
Doth glimmer from afar
Upon the mountain line,

Accept it for a sign

That I am near,
And thinking of thee here.

I'll be thy Mercury,

Thou Cytherea to me,
Distinguished by thy face

The earth shall learn my place;

As near beneath thy light
Will I outwear the night,
With mingled ray
Leading the westward way.

Still will I strive to be
As if thou wert with me;
Whatever path I take,
It shall be for thy sake
Of gentle slope and wide,
As thou wert by my side,
Without a root

To trip thy slender foot.

I'll walk with gentle pace,
And choose the smoothest place,

And careful dip the oar,

And shun the winding shore,

And gently steer my boat

Where water lilies float,

And cardinal flowers

Stand in their sylvan bowers.

THE SUMMER RAIN.

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
"Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.

Plutarch was good, and so was Homer too,
Our Shakspeare's life was rich to live again,
What Plutarch read that was not good nor true,
Nor Shakspeare's books, unless his books were men.

Here while I lie beneath this walnut bough,
What care I for the Greeks, or for Troy town,
If greater battles are enacted now

Between the ants upon this hummock's crown.