he neighbourhood, bolder than the rest, having
guarded himself with the sign of the cross, approached one of these
armed men, conjuring him in the name of God, to declare the meaning of
this army, and their design. The soldier or phantom replied, "We are not
what you imagine; we are neither vain phantoms nor true soldiers, we are
the spirits of those who were killed on this spot a long time ago. The
arms and horses which you behold are the instruments of our punishment,
as they were of our sins. We are all on fire, though you can see nothing
about us which appears inflamed." It is said that they remarked in this
company the Count Emico, who had been killed a few years before, and who
declared that he might be extricated from that state by alms and
prayers.

LII

THE WANDERING JEW IN ENGLAND

"Notes and Queries"

When on the weary way to Golgotha, Christ fainting, and overcome under
the burden of the cross, asked Salathiel, as he was standing at his
door, for a cup of water to cool His parched throat, he spurned the
supplication, and bade Him on the faster.

"I go," said the Saviour, "but thou shalt thirst and tarry till I come."

And ever since then, by day and night, through the long centuries he has
been doomed to wander about the earth, ever craving for water, and ever
expecting the day of judgment which shall end his toils:

"Mais toujours le soleil se leve,
Toujours, toujours
Tourne la terre ou moi je cours,
Toujours, toujours, toujours, toujours!"

Sometimes, during the cold winter nights, the lonely cottager will be
awoke by a plaintive demand for "Water, good Christian! water for the
love of God!" And if he looks out into the moonlight, he will see a
venerable old man in antique raiment, with grey flowing beard, and a
tall staff, who beseeches his charity with the most earnest gesture. Woe
to the churl who refuses him water or shelter. My old nurse, who was a
Warwickshire woman, and, as Sir Walter said of his grandmother, "a most
_awfu' le'er_," knew a man who boldly cried out, "All very fine, Mr
Ferguson, but you can't lodge here." And it was decidedly the worst
thing he ever did in his life, for his best mare fell dead lame, and
corn went down, I am afraid to say how much per quarter. If, on the
contrary, you treat him well, and refrain from indelicate inquiries
respecting his age--on which point he is very touchy--his visit is sure
to bring good luck. Perhaps years after