There is a good old maxim, not very much attended to, but very widely applicable, that charity begins at home. The "Borrioboola Gha" tendency, whether developed in families, firms, or governments, is decidedly to be deprecated; let us darn the clothes of our ragged children before we send flannel waistcoats to the West Coast of Africa; let us pay our debts before we amiably enter into mercantile engagements involving large advances on no security to bankrupt houses, and reform the abuses of our own administrative system before we devote our money and our energies to the introduction of free institutions into Italy; at all events, if we are bent upon clothing negroes in warm comfortable flannel, when our own families are half-naked, don't let us employ slave-dealers. If we must effect unprofitable commercial transactions, don't let us willingly select a swindler as the contracting party on the other side; and if it is absolutely necessary to our happiness that Italy should be liberated from the thraldom of one despot, don't let us trust her destinies in the hands of another.

One would suppose that these were propositions so self-evident, that the very suggestion of them might be considered an insult or impertinence. We have not the slightest fear of such being the case. They will no doubt present themselves to those for whom they are intended with all the charm of novelty, and may perhaps be of some little service. It is a lamentable fact that the education and training of our statesmen is, as a general rule, of a nature that totally disqualifies them for a certain class of responsibilities which they are frequently called upon to exercise. Eloquent in oratory, subtle in debate, accomplished in scholastic acquirements, deeply versed in political economy, and well acquainted with "the ways of the House," they have never had an opportunity of knowing much

of the ways of the world. Composed for the most part of men of the same class, they have gone through an identical educational process and parliamentary training. Their world has been a public school, a university, and a very minute section of the population of London; their experience of human nature limited to a class where a certain standard of conventional morality, a recognised code of honour, and forms of etiquette, obtain, and by these they suppose that societies all over the world are governed. There is probably not a single member of the Cabinet who could play a game of "poker” or cook a chop. How many are there to whom a mercantile company would intrust the negotiation of a delicate transaction in a railway or steam company with our Transatlantic cousins? Knowing the West End of London is not knowing the world; this knowledge is acquired not merely by visiting other countries as a traveller, but by mixing in a great variety of different grades in the society of one's own. A man who takes a plunge and gets to the bottom may perhaps stick his head in the mud, and come up very dirty and out of breath, but he has learnt something by his dive, which may be of use to him ever after. There is rather a good specimen of this description of person just now occupying an exalted position in a neighbouring country. His is the morality of a class with whom, in all probability, our statesmen have not mixed. For instance, it may be assumed that much association with conspirators and carbonari in early youth, is calculated to engender peculiar views upon the subject of homicide, under circumstances which we, with our bigoted notions, do not consider altogether justifiable. The "Morals of Mayfair" may not be much to boast of, but they are in some respects of a higher tone than those of Leicester Square; and if it were possible for our Ministers of Foreign Affairs to plunge into the Foreign Society of that district for a short time, they would in all probability acquire information and experience which would be useful to them in their diplomatic inter

conditions essential to its ultimate success, which from the constitution of our government cannot be obtained. One is, that those who initiate it should remain in office to carry it through; and the other, that absolute secresy should be preserved during the earlier stages of its development. It is manifest, that with cabinets constantly changing, and always averse to adopting the views of their predecessors, the first of these conditions can never be realised; while with two houses of Parliament perpetually asking for information, and calling for papers, any attempt at secresy is out of the question. It is not to be wondered at, then, that the members of our Government, with whom retention of office is naturally the first consideration, should adapt their foreign policy to the public opinion of the day, which is called upon to approve or condemn it, but which, denied all authentic sources of secret information, is clearly disqualified from doing either.

The effect is, that canvassed in Parliament, commented on in the press, and constantly changing, the Foreign policy of Great Britain is generally shallow and always transparent. The Foreign policy of a country governed by an autocrat, with vast resources at his command, and accountable to no one, is very different, more especially if the individual so situated be a man of talent, not to say genius. If he is fired with that desire for territorial aggrandisement, which among those who have wielded absolute power has ever been considered a loftier object of ambition than the development of the moral or material resources of their empires, he may go secretly and skilfully to work, and dig trenches and lay trains beneath surrounding countries unquestioned and unsuspected, until, perhaps, on some auspicious new-year's day he flings the spark with fatal precision into a mine that blows up an empire. It is evident that autocrats should be objects of especial interest to constitutional governments. It is very difficult to play a game of ecarté with a man who sees into your hand as well as his own, and a code of telegra

phic signals established with a friend at the other end of the room may, under these adverse circumstances, be excused.

There is a moral arising out of all this which should not be lost sight of, to wit, that it is quite trouble enough to play one's own game, without offering to help other people to play theirs. In other words, the only duty of a British statesman is to watch over the interests of his country. The freedom which should be dearest to him should be British freedom. The only liberties for which he should feel active sympathy should be the liberties of his compatriots. The notion of freedom is an abstraction, it is only as applied to different countries that it becomes real. For instance, there is the freedom of the United States, in which a man is free to use his revolver; there is not much sympathy felt in this country for that description of freedom. And there is the freedom of the Central American Republics, in which any man is free to rebel against the constituted authority, and seize by force of arms the presidential chair; that development of the principle has not received any warm sympathies from this country. But the notion of freedom in Italy kindles a fire of sympathetic enthusiasm amongst us, because we have a very faint notion of what Italian freedom is going to be like, and we have fallen in love with the abstraction. No man whose experience of life has taught him the value of self-control ever acts from impulse; in a nation it is folly.

Posterity will look back on this episode of our foreign policy, and wonder what motives could have prompted it. The delusion will be past then; we shall be paying the penalty of having engaged in a diplomatic game with a partner who had previously blindfolded us, and with a deliberate foreknowledge that, though he might, under no circumstances could we, share in the winnings.

It is singular that the class of politicians who have ever been loudest in their outcry for a policy of noninterference in foreign affairs are those who are now espousing most

Twelve days already the siege had lasted, the besiegers daily gathering strength. With difficulty, when the inundation had in great degree subsided, some of the smaller engines had been brought up against the walls. Nothing but the strong defences of the monastery and the gallant spirit of its garrison could have enabled them to hold out against such overwhelming numbers. But they were hard beset. Unprepared for such a close leaguer, the stores of the brotherhood were fast being exhausted by the daily demands of the garrison, although the poor Brabanters were much diminished in numbers, and none grudged them now the rations which they earned so well. If Foliot had hitherto learnt little of a soldier's trade, he was now, at all events, fast acquiring it. Though indebted to the abbot and others for many instructions in the detail of defence, he showed, in his power of quick intelligence and rapid combination, all the best qualities of a commander. The quiet firmness, too, with which he issued his commands, and his constant presence where most needed, soon gave both the retainers of the abbey and their foreign allies implicit confidence in their new commander.

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The besiegers were known to be now mining the eastern wall. A sidegate, long disused, and a small tower above it, were ascertained to be the point of their operations. The abbey garrison were too weak in force either to make a sally to destroy the mine and its workmen, or to countermine with any hope of success. hasty fortification was thrown up, by pulling down some stabling hard by, so as to form an inner line of defence which might still hold the enemy at bay, in case the original wall were destroyed by the springing of the mine. In this operation the brethren themselves had been employed by relays day and night, under the active superintendence of the sacrist, aided silently by the zeal and energy of their guest of the black vizard, who not only wielded his mattock with a

skill and strength which won the brawny sacrist's admiration, but showed a practical acquaintance with the arts of fortification which the churchman could not boast. More than one of the Benedictines lost their lives while thus engaged, although means had been taken to protect them as far as possible from the missiles of the besiegers, and a cover had been formed under the direction of the pilgrim (whose signs the party had learned to understand and obey far more readily than the orders of the sacrist), which saved many a life and limb.

Paler and more anxious day by day grew the abbot's countenance, as every hour, in reply to his restless inquiries, some new casualty was reported to him, or some new movement in advance was observed on the part of the besiegers. For the first two or three days of the siege, while Sir Godfrey contented himself with a close investment of the abbey, and the attack was comparatively feeble and distant, Abbot Martin's eye had lighted up with an unusual fire, and his step had carried him with almost the elasticity of youth. Those who had seen him then might better have remembered the Guy Fitzwaryn who had fought in Brittany, than brother Martin, the quiet monk of Evesham, or the lord abbot of Rivelsby. But as the leaguer went on, and the aged monks in the infirmary were crowded out of their pallets by wounded defenders, and the funeral mass, said perhaps some once or twice a-year, became a daily service, and the north corner of their burying-ground, where lay the few graves of the stranger and the wayfarer who had died within their hospitable gates, became crowded with the little black crosses which marked the resting-place of the slain Brabanters-and he grew sick with the long-delayed hope of succour from Longchamp-then the superior became again an altered man. Still, with his armour on under the vestments of his rank, he went from post to post, careless of danger as before, and striving to

speak a cheerful word to each and all at their duties; but it was evidently with a painful effort. That very morning he had met the body of one of his monks, just struck down at the new works, which was being carried to the chamber where the dead were laid to wait their burial. The face was decently covered; but the abbot stopped and raised the covering, and recognised the features of one whom he had seen cause to rebuke the previous evening for some expression of discontent. He turned aside, and dropped his head on his breast with a bitter groan. He retired at once to his chamber, and when he summoned Wolfert to his presence, after a space of two hours, it was to issue orders for a solemn service of special prayer and humiliation before Heaven. None, save blind old Tobias, whose presence the abbot had probably disregarded, but who contrived in a wonderful manner to supply by his ears and fingers the place of his lost eyes, knew that, in the interval, he had put on a shirt of coarsest hair under his body-armour. It was a superstition of those dark times; let us be content to rejoice in our own illumination, and let the good abbot pass.

When the special service in the abbey church was over, Shoshannim again rang out his deep booming notes, which a favouring wind had been known to carry over the flats even as far as Huntingdon; it had been resolved to bear in procession round the beleaguered ramparts some of their holiest relics, with solemn chant and invocation. It was at the

very moment when the attack at the east gate was hottest, and the weakened garrison of Rivelsby were almost despairing of maintaining longer the unequal combat against a foe whose numbers seemed to increase as their own diminished, that the procession moved slowly from the church doors through the cloister, and came into the view of the combatants. The tall silver cross, the precious gift of Queen Etheldreda, was borne in front, and all the chief officials of the house, except the sacrist and others who were doing good service on the walls, followed in their robes of state; for though, in some

sort, a penitential progress, the abbot rightly judged that it was no time to discourage the brave hearts who were shedding their blood in the church's cause by any show of mourning emblems. All solemn pomp and pageant, all the outward glories of a church which could not be other than triumphant, were there to-day. Censers waved and banners flew, as though it had been some high religious festival. Besides the great standard of the Virgin, the great protectress of their house, they bore displayed the saltire of St Andrew, the double cross of St Philip, the dove of St Oswald, the book and crosier of St Bride, and the emblems of many a saint besides who was thought to have a special care of Rivelsby. Last of the dignitaries, immediately before the gilded shrine which held the precious relics, came the lord abbot himself, in a cope of violet silk, flashing with gold and gems. They walked in imminent personal peril at every step; for though few even among the reckless band whom Sir Godfrey led in person cared to aim where the holy banners flew, yet stones and bolts discharged at random whistled round them as they moved. But if any heart amongst them faltered, it hid its fears for very shame. The soldiers of the church showed as bold a front as if every man had been a mail-clad knight. With clear, deep, unfaltering voices, and in unbroken harmony, the Benedictine brothers lifted their chant as they marched :

"Nisi Dominus ædificaverit domum, in vanum laboraverunt qui ædificant eam."

And before the last notes were fully enunciated, the semi-choir took the answering verse"Nisi Dominus custodierit civitatem, frustra vigilat qui custodit eam."

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Full and clear the melody swelled out above the din of battle, nay, even seemed to still it for a while, for many both within and without the walls paused for some few instants by an involuntary impulse to listen. The Brabanters heard it, and, godless reprobates as most of them were, Dannequin and his diminished band clenched their battle-axes with a sterner grip, or drew their arrows to