abbot and monks
looking up into the air; there was the wafer sticking up somewhere
under the sun, and none of them could devise how they were to get it
down again. The monks began singing canticles and litanies; the
Parisian clergy did the same; still the wafer would not move a hair's
breadth. At last they resolved to adjourn to the Abbey Church; and so
they formed themselves into procession, and stepped forwards. The
monks had reached the abbey door, the bishop and his clergy were
following behind, and the clergy of St Gervais were just under the
spot where the wafer was suspended, when, _presto_, down it popped
into the hands of the little red-nosed curate. "Its mine!" cried the
curate: "I'll have it!" shouted the bishop: "I wish you may get it,"
roared the abbot--and a regular scramble took place. But the little
curate held his prize fast; his vicars stuck to him like good men and
true; and they carried off their prize triumphant. The bishop and the
abbot drew up a solemn memorial and covenant on the spot, whereby the
wafer was legally consigned to its original consecrator and owner, the
curate of St Gervais; and it was agreed that every 1st of September,
the day of the miracle, a solemn office and procession of the Holy
Sacrament should be celebrated within his church. The reverend father
Du Breul, the grave historian of Paris, adds: "L'histoire du dit
miracle est naifvement depeinte en une vitre de la chapelle Sainct
Pierre d'icelle eglise, ou sont aussi quelques vers Francois,
contenans partie d'icelle histoire."

THE LAST SESSION OF PARLIAMENT.

In days of old it was the remark of more than one philosopher, that,
if it were possible to exhibit virtue in a personal form, and clothed
with attributes of sense, all men would unite in homage to her
supremacy. The same thing is true of other abstractions, and
especially of the powers which work by social change. Could these
powers be revealed to us in any symbolic incarnation--were it possible
that, but for one hour, the steadfast march of their tendencies, their
promises, and their shadowy menaces, could be made apprehensible to
the bodily eye--we should be startled, and oftentimes appalled, at the
grandeur of the apparition. In particular, we may say that the advance
of civilization, as it is carried forward for ever on the movement
continually accelerated of England and France, were it less stealthy
and inaudible than it is, would fix, in every stage, the