the male branch, to represent the Asmonean family. His mother Alexandra, daughter of Hyrcanus, was living, and deeming it a cruel insult, after the deposition of her father from the throne, that her son, too, should be cut off from the priesthood by the appointment of an obscure stranger, she resolved on an expedient which, for the time, accomplished her wishes; but the further result of which she ĥad bitterly to rue. She sent pictures of both her_beautiful children to Mark Antony, then probably in Egypt, hoping by this means to interest the all-powerful Roman in their fate. Herod became aware of her contrivance, and fearing the result, he forthwith changed his policy as to the priesthood, deposed Ananel, and installed his young brother-in-law in the office.

This elevation to the priesthood was the precursor of the youth's death. The very success of his mother Alexandra's scheme hastened his fate. When he first appeared in public, arrayed in the gorgeous robes of the priesthood, his beautiful countenance and graceful bearing so kindled the enthusiasm of the people, that the jealous spirit of Herod instantly arrived at the conclusion that the life of the boy could not consist with the safety of his throne, or with the prospect of the succession to his family. The evil resolves of tyrants are not apt to linger. The very passions which goad them to strike cannot brook delay. If the decision has been come to of taking away life, the mode and circumstances are lesser matters which offer little difficulty. It was not in Herod's temper to reason, or to listen to any visitings of compunction, from the moment that the spirit of suspicion took hold of him. The youthfulness and the frank innocence of the boy, his being Mariamne's fond and only brother-these circumstances weighed as nothing against the thought, that he was adored by the people, and might some day, if not quickly disposed of, become their king.

Shortly after his public appearance as high-priest, young Aristobulus was removed, by Herod's contrivance, to Jericho. There he indulged freely in bathing, attended by companions whom Herod had well instructed in their parts. Under pretence of playful sport in the bath, they began one day to plunge one another in the water, until, by mutual signal, having forced the young prince under, they held him there, in spite of his miserable struggles,

till life was extinct. No spectators were at hand. His companions gave out that he went beyond his depth by accident, and was drowned. Herod affected the deepest distress on the occasion, and celebrated the funeral of the unfortunate prince with the greatest magnificence. But no one was deluded by this acting; not Mariamne, not Alexandra, not the Jewish nation!

These were the beginnings of murder in the reign of Herod. Was it wonderful after this if the cloud gathered thicker, and brooded more ominously over his own dwelling? We shall have to tell, it is true, of Herod's glory and magnificence; but the shadow of his domestic doom intercepted all their brightness from his own eye.

A TALE OF THE CRIMEA.

BY A. L. O. E.

CHAPTER III.-THE MARCH.

ON the horrors that succeed a battle I have no intention to dwell. Let a veil be drawn over the ghastly sights which show how dearly even a victory is bought. The eyes that have wept for the fallen are not yet dry; fond hearts still bleed for those who sleep in the distant Crimea. All honour to the memory of the brave men who have bequeathed to their country a fresh heritage of fame!

The dead were laid in their bloody graves, the wounded were gradually removed to the ships, and the rest of the army was ordered to prepare for a long march through the enemy's country. Wasted to a shadow, so faint and weak that he could scarcely perform the usual routine of duty, Vernon was urged by Everton, but in vain, to avail himself of the surgeon's certificate, and retire to recruit his strength at Scutari.

"They would say that I had had enough of it," he said, with a faint laugh; "no, I will follow my colours while I have strength to march; it will be time enough to rest within Sebastopol !"

For the first few miles the stripling walked on bravely; he conversed much, though in a low voice, with George, talked of future services and promotion, and of a distant

home. His comrade had never before known him so free and unreserved in his communications, or so full of buoyant hope. After a while Vernon became more silent, a deadly paleness overspread his face, the toil-drops gathered upon his lip and brow, and his knees bent as he dragged his steps slowly along. He soon fell to the rear of the battalion. "Vernon, let me carry your musket for you," said George. The youth shook his head, too weary for speech, but in a few minutes suffered the weapon, without opposition, to be taken from his unresisting hand.

Still on, on they marched, weary hour after hour; never to George had a march appeared so long before, for he feared that his young comrade would drop under the fatigue. At length, completely exhausted, Vernon sank by the side of a path by which the soldiers were then winding their way through a wood. Everton sprang to his side, and saw with alarm the change in the countenance of his companion. The hollow eye, the bloodless lip, the evident prostration of strength, showed at once the impossibility of the youth's proceeding farther.

"George," exclaimed Vernon, faintly, "for the love of mercy procure me a draught of water! I heard the sound of a running stream but a few minutes since as we passed that opening in the wood. I have a feverish thirst, and a dull pain here," he added, pressing his hand on his chest ; "I fear that this march will be my last."

George hastened to the spot pointed out, but searched that part of the wood in vain, and in vain listened for the sound of water with which a fevered imagination must have deluded the ear of his friend. Disappointed, he returned, and found Vernon extended at full length on the ground, his visage covered with the ashen hue of death.

"How are you, my poor boy?" whispered the soldier, bending over him with the tenderness of a brother.

"Better, better," replied Vernon, in a deep husky tone; "I knew that I should be better here. You hardly thought to see me home so soon. But it is cold here, bitterly cold!" and he shivered. 66 'No matter, heap more wood on the fire! Bring me a cup of water from our own stream; there is no draught like that! Mother, let me lay my head on your shoulder once more; I have had a harder pillow, and a colder, since I left you. Have you not forgiven your wayward boy? Had you seen the sights that I have seen—

but your blood would curdle if I told you of half. I was struck to earth-a Russian had his heel on my breast-I feel it still-it presses me down to the earth!" and he gasped as if in agony for breath.

"Oh, God of mercy! help him-save him!" exclaimed George; "I will hasten after the troops and bring back aid, if it be not too late:" but with the energy of a dying man Vernon clung to his arm.

"You shall not leave me!" he cried; "I should never find you again; I know that the enemy lie in ambush near. Who said that life was a campaign-that it might end in victory and peace? I know the breach is ready-the storming party under arms-you and I shall be first on the ramparts-I hear a voice cry, forward! But that is no besieged city before me, those are not enemies in front to meet us! I know them-I know them-the dear grey walls-my white-haired father is stretching out his hands; the din of war is all silenced and still; I hear the sweet voices that I love the laughter of the children, the chime of the church bells-they are ringing me a welcome home!"

As twilight spread her grey mantle over the woods, and but a pale tinge showed where the red sun had sunk, the weary spirit took its flight from earth. Sole watcher by the suffering, sole mourner by the dead, George knelt at the side of the lifeless corpse, and shed over it such tears as the brave may weep. Then he severed one fair lock from the stripling's temple, and placed it in his bosom as a relic for those who, unconscious of their loss, might now in their own happy land be fondly looking forward to the return of him whose face they should behold no more. Everton had seen death in its most ghastly forms; he had passed amidst bloody heaps of the slain, where former comrades lay bathed in their gore; but with a feeling of deeper sadness he now rose from his knees, and gazed for the last time upon the remains of one whom he had loved, better than he believed that his seared heart could have ever loved mortal again.

"Oh, Vernon!" he murmured, as he spread over the corpse his military cloak-meet shroud for a soldier; why was that life taken which was precious to so many, and that spared which is worthless, even to its possessor

66

But if the freed spirit of his friend could have spoken once more through those lifeless lips, words had been

breathed which might have made even the world-weary man feel the value of the gift of prolonged existence. If poor Vernon had died in the path of honour, his soul unclouded by despair, though not untouched by remorse; if his bereaved parents would not mourn for him as those that have no hope; it was because an earthly instrument, itself tempered in the furnace of affliction, had severed the cords by which the weak, misguided young man was being gradually drawn down towards ruin. Shall the weary, tempest-tost mariner murmur at the storm which has driven his bark within sight of a signal of distress, and made him the means of preserving some unfortunate castaway, who but for his aid must have perished? Happy those who shall be welcomed to the haven of heaven by the companions whom they have guided to its shore.

How to rejoin the British army, on its way to Balaklava, was now the consideration of George. Absorbed in his attention to his expiring comrade, the difficulties of his own position had not at first presented themselves to his mind; but when, in the increasing darkness, he attempted to follow on the track of the troops, and found himself involved in the intricacies of a wood, in a country entirely unknown to him, where he might be in an instant surrounded and cut off by the foe, he felt all the peril of his situation. He soon lost all certainty of the way to be pursued, and listened in vain for any sound that might guide the ear where the eye could give no aid. Dimmer and dimmer grew the scene; the night wind howled through the branches with an ominous sound; the sense of solitude grew oppressive; wearied and almost despairing, the soldier paused at length, where a large tree, long ago struck down by lightning and left to decay where it had fallen, made a small space in the leafy canopy open to the sky. Everton threw himself down on the knotted trunk, and looked upwards with a gloomy brow.

It was before him, the quiet evening star, as he had often beheld it in the land of his fathers, when it had seemed to him the emblem of hope. Never before had he seen it so large and so bright, as though heavenly hope, in the dark hour of trial, were bending down nearer to him whom all earthly hope had forsaken. Yes, it would shine as calmly on the field of blood as on the peaceful home; as its soft light fell on the infant's cradle, so would