already beginning to give way. Savonarola and many of his brethren still remained in the choir, offering up prayers, which were interrupted from time to time by the cries of the injured or the piteous wail of the dying. Among the latter was a youth of the Panciatichi House, who was borne, fatally wounded, to the steps of the high altar; and there, amid volleys of harquebuss shots, received the communion from Fra Domenico, and joyfully drew his last breath in the friar's arms, after kissing the crucifix and exclaiming, "Ecce quam bonum et quam jucundum habitare fratres in unum!" (Behold how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!)

Night had now come; and the monks, exhausted with hunger and agitation, devoured some dry figs one of their companions. had brought. Suddenly the defense was resumed; louder cries were heard, and fresh volleys of shot. In the pulpit from which Savonarola had so frequently inculcated the doctrine of peace, Fra Enrico, the German, had now taken his stand, and was firing his harquebuss with fatal effect. The smoke became so dense that it was necessary to break the windows in order to escape suffocation; and thereupon long tongues of flame poured into the church from the burning doors. The German and another defender retreated into the choir, and clambering upon the high altar, planted their harquebusses beside the great crucifix, and continued their fire.

Savonarola was overwhelmed with grief by this waste of life in his cause, but was powerless to prevent it. No attention being paid to his protests, he again raised the Host, and commanded his friars to follow him. Traversing the dormitory, he had conducted nearly all to the Greek library, when he caught sight of Fra Benedetto rushing down-stairs, maddened with fury and fully armed, to confront the assailants at close quarters. Laying his hand on his disciple's shoulder, he gave him a severe glance, and said in a tone of earnest reproof, "Fra Benedetto, throw down those weapons and take up the cross: I never intended my brethren to shed blood." And the monk humbled himself at his master's feet, laid aside his arms, and followed him to the library with the rest.

A final and still more threatening decree was now issued by the Signory, against all who continued to resist; commanding Savonarola, Fra Domenico, and Fra Silvestro to present themselves at the palace without delay, and giving their word that

no harm should be offered them. Fra Domenico insisted on seeing the order in writing; and the heralds, not having it with them, went back to fetch it. Meanwhile Savonarola had deposited the sacrament in the hall of the library beneath the noble arches of Michelozzi's vault; and collecting the friars around him, addressed them for the last time in these memorable words: "My beloved children, in the presence of God, in the presence of the consecrated wafer, with our enemies already in the convent, I confirm the truth of my doctrines. All that I have said hath come to me from God, and he is my witness in heaven that I speak no lie. I had not foreseen that all the city would so quickly. turn against me; nevertheless, may the Lord's will be done. My last exhortation to ye is this: let faith, prayer, and patience be your weapons. I leave ye with anguish and grief, to give myself into my enemies' hands. I know not whether they will take my life; but certain am I that, once dead, I shall be able to succor ye in heaven far better than it hath been granted me to help ye on earth. Take comfort, embrace the cross, and by it shall ye find the way of salvation."

The invaders were now masters of almost the whole of the convent; and Gioacchino della Vecchia, captain of the palace guard, threatened to knock down the walls with his guns unless the orders of the Signory were obeyed. Fra Malatesta Sacramoro, the very man who a few days before had offered to walk through the fire, now played the part of Judas. He treated with the Compagnacci, and persuaded them to present a written order, for which they sent an urgent request to the Signory; while Savonarola again confessed to Fra Domenico, and took the sacrament from his hands, in preparation for their common surrender. As for their companion, Fra Silvestro, he had hidden himself; and in the confusion was nowhere to be found.

Just then a singular incident occurred. One of Savonarola's disciples- a certain Girolamo Gini, who had long yearned to assume the Dominican robehad come to vespers that day, and from the beginning of the riot energetically helped in the defense of the convent. When Savonarola ordered all to lay down their arms, this worthy artisan instantly obeyed; but nevertheless could not refrain from rushing through the cloisters and showing himself to the assailants,- in his desire, as he confessed at his examination, to face death for the love of Jesus Christ. Having been wounded, he now appeared in the Greek library, with blood

streaming from his head; and kneeling at his master's feet, hum. bly prayed to be invested with the habit. And his request was granted on the spot.

Savonarola was urged by some of his friends to consent to be lowered from the walls and seek safety in flight; since, if he once set foot in the palace, there was little chance of his ever leaving it alive. He hesitated, and seemed on the point of adopting this sole means of escape; when Fra Malatesta turned on him and said, "Should not the shepherd lay down his life for his lambs?" These words appeared to touch him deeply; and he accordingly made no reply, but after kissing his brethren and folding them to his heart, this very Malatesta first of all, he deliberately gave himself up, together with his trusty and inseparable Fra Domenico, into the hands of the mace-bearers, who had returned from the Signory at that instant.

Translation of Linda Villari.

HERSART DE LA VILLEMARQUÉ

THE HEROIC AND LEGENDARY LITERATURE OF

BRITTANY

BY WILLIAM SHARP

F ONE were asked what were the three immediate influences, the open-sesames of literature, which revealed alike to the dreaming and the critical mind of modern Europe the beauty and extraordinary achievement of the Celtic genius, it would. not be difficult to name them. From Scotland came Macpherson's reweaving of ancient Gaelic legendary lore under the collective title of 'Ossian'; from Wales came the 'Mabinogion,' obtained and translated by Lady Charlotte Guest; and from Brittany came the now cel ebrated life work of the Vicomte Hersart de la Villemarqué, the 'Barzaz-Breiz,' or collection of the popular songs and heroic ballads of old Brittany,- some mediæval, some with their roots in the heart of ancient Armorica.

The history of the influence of these three books-'Ossian,' the 'Mabinogion,' and the 'Barzaz Breiz' — has never yet been properly estimated. When a competent critic shall give us this history, in its exact and critical relation to literature itself, the deep and farreaching power of what may be distinguished as fundamentally appealing books will be made apparent.

If these were the immediate influences in the awakening of the mind of Europe to the beauty and mystery and high significance of the old Celtic literature, legendary lore, and racial traditions, the general attention was attracted rather by two famous pioneers of critical thought. In France, Ernest Renan, himself of Celtic blood and genius, and having indeed in his name one of the most ancient and sacred of Armorican designations (Ronan), gained the notice of all intellectual Europe by his acute, poignantly sympathetic, and eloquent treatise on the Poetry of the Celtic Races.' Later, in England, Matthew Arnold convinced his reluctant fellow-countrymen that a new and wide domain of literary beauty lay as it were just beyond their home pastures.

Since Renan and Matthew Arnold, there have been many keen and ever more and more thoroughly equipped students of Celtic literature; but while admitting the immense value of the philological

labors of men such as the German Windisch, the English Whitley Stokes, the French Loth, the Scottish Dr. Cameron, the Welsh Professor Rhys, and the Irish Standish Hayes O'Grady, or of the more popular writings of collectors and exponents such as the late Campbell of Islay, Mr. Alfred Nutt, Mr. Standish O'Grady, and others, it would be at once unjust and uncritical to omit full recognition of the labors of collectors and interpreters such as, say, Mr. Alexander Carmichael in Scotland, and Hersart de la Villemarqué in France.

There can hardly be a student of Celtic literature who is unfamiliar with the 'Barzaz-Breiz,' that unique collection of Breton legendary lore and heroic ballads so closely linked with the name of Hersart de la Villemarqué. This celebrated man at once collector, folk-lorist, philologist, poet, and impassioned patriot-was not only born a Breton of the Bretons, but began life among circumstances pre-eminently conducive to his mental development along the lines where he has made his name of world-wide repute. His great work* was not only the outcome of his own genius and of his racial inheritance, but was inspired by his mother, a remarkable woman of a very ancient Armorican family. It is to her that the 'Barzaz-Breiz' was dedicated: "“À ma tendre et sainte mère, Marie-Ursule Feydeau du Plessix-Nizon, Comtesse de la Villemarqué." So significant are the opening words of his introduction to the new and definitive edition (1893) that they may be given here:—

"A profound sentiment," he says in effect, "inspired the idea of this book wherein my country stands forth self-portrayed, and in that revelation wins our love. In sending forth this revised reprint of my work, doubtless for the last time, and feeling myself to be as much as in my early days under the spell of her love, I dedicate this work to her who really began it, and that too before I was born,-to her who enthralled my childhood with old-world ballads and legendary tales, and who herself was indeed for me one of those good fairies who, as the old lore has it, stand by the side of happy cradles. My mother, who was also the mother of all who were unhappy, once restored to health a poor wandering singer of the parish of Melgren. Moved by the sincere regrets of the poor woman at her inability to convey aright her gratitude to her benefactress, having indeed nothing in the world to offer but her songs, my mother asked her to repeat one or two of her treasury of folksongs. So impressed was she by the original character of the Breton poetry, that often thereafter she sought and obtained a like pleasure. At a later date,

* «‹Barzaz-Breiz. Chants Populaires de la Bretagne, recueillis, traduits, et annotés par le Vicomte Hersart de la Villemarqué, M. I.' (work crowned by the Academy of France). Among the same author's other published writings in book form (he has written extensively in the Revue Celtique and elsewhere) are- - 'Merlin: Son Histoire, Ses Œuvres, Son Influence,' and 'La Légende Celtique. et la Poésie des Cloîtres en Islande, en Cambrie, et én Bretagne.»