r was, seems to me to be deserving of respect,
and just now, I saw, there is something touching which I cannot explain
in your ceremonies, and it has made me better understand her thought."

A few days later the same back shop contained a few intimate and
conciliating friends who were attending a wedding. We need not say that
from that day, whether through change of principles or through
gratitude, the member of the revolutionary government was secretly the
protector of the little church which could live on in peace, unknown to
its persecutors.

The Hero of Lepanto.

PART II.

"Every nation," it has been said, "makes most account of its own, and
cares little for the heroes of other nations. Don John of Austria, as
defender of Christendom, was the hero of all nations." He was the hero
of "the battle of Lepanto which," as Alison remarks, "arrested forever
the danger of Mahometan invasion in the south of Europe." As De Bonald
adds, it was from that battle, that the decline of the Turkish power
dates. "It cost the Turks more than the mere loss of ships and of men;
they lost that moral force which is the mainstay of conquering nations."

It is not necessary in this sketch of the life of Don John, to enter
into any details about the tedious negotiations which preceded the
coalition of the naval forces of Spain, Venice, and the Pope. Suffice it
to say, that repulsed from Malta by the heroism of the Knights of St.
John, the Turks next turned their naval armaments against Cyprus, then
held by the Venetians. Menaced in one of her most valuable possessions,
the Republic of Venice, too long the half-hearted foe of the Turks,
turned in her distress, for help to the Vatican and to the Escorial. St.
Pius V. sat in the See of Peter. He turned no deaf ear to an appeal that
seemed likely to bring about what the Roman Pontiffs had long desired--a
new crusade against the Turks. Philip the Second, ever wary, ever
dilatory, more able than the Pope to assist Venice, was less ready to do
so. Spain would willingly have done what she could to destroy the
Turkish power, but her monarch was not sorry to humble Venice, even to
the profit of the infidel. So diplomatic delays and underhand intrigues
delayed the relief of Cyprus, and the standard of the Sultan soon was
hoisted over the walls of Famagusta--to remain there until replaced in
our times--thanks to the wisdom of a great statesman--by the "meteor
flag of England."

The terror