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the bell from its tower, and over the meadows a drum beat.

      Thronged erelong was the church with men. Without, in the churchyard,

      Waited the women. They stood by the graves, and hung on the headstones

      Garlands of autumn-leaves and evergreens fresh from the forest.

      Then came the guard from the ships, and marching proudly among them

      Entered the sacred portal. With loud and dissonant clangor

      Echoed the sound of their brazen drums from ceiling and casement—

      Echoed a moment only, and slowly the ponderous portal

      Closed, and in silence the crowd awaited the will of the soldiers.

      Then uprose their commander, and spoke from the steps of the altar,

      Holding aloft in his hands, with its seals, the royal commission.

      "You are convened this day," he said, "by his Majesty's orders.

      Clement and kind has he been; but how you have answered his kindness,

      Let your own hearts reply! To my natural make and my temper

      Painful the task is I do, which to you I know must be grievous.

      Yet must I bow and obey, and deliver the will of our monarch;

      Namely, that all your lands, and dwellings, and cattle of all kinds

      Forfeited be to the crown; and that you yourselves from this province

      Be transported to other lands. God grant you may dwell there

      Ever as faithful subjects, a happy and peaceable people!

      Prisoners now I declare you; for such is his Majesty's pleasure!"

      As, when the air is serene in the sultry solstice of summer,

      Suddenly gathers a storm, and the deadly sling of the hailstones

      Beats down the farmer's corn in the field and shatters his windows,

      Hiding the sun, and strewing the ground with thatch from the house-roofs,

      Bellowing fly the herds, and seek to break their enclosures;

      So on the hearts of the people descended the words of the speaker.

      Silent a moment they stood in speechless wonder, and then rose

      Louder and ever louder a wail of sorrow and anger,

      And, by one impulse moved, they madly rushed to the door-way.

      Vain was the hope of escape; and cries and fierce imprecations

      Rang through the house of prayer; and high o'er the heads of the others

      Rose, with his arms uplifted, the figure of Basil the blacksmith,

      As, on a stormy sea, a spar is tossed by the billows.

      Flushed was his face and distorted with passion; and wildly he shouted—

      "Down with the tyrants of England! we never have sworn them allegiance!

      Death to these foreign soldiers, who seize on our homes and our harvests!"

      More he fain would have said, but the merciless hand of a soldier

      Smote him upon the mouth, and dragged him down to the pavement.

       In the midst of the strife and tumult of angry contention,

      Lo! the door of the chancel opened, and Father Felician

      Entered, with serious mien, and ascended the steps of the altar.

      Raising his reverend hand, with a gesture he awed into silence

      All that clamorous throng; and thus he spake to his people;

      Deep were his tones and solemn; in accents measured and mournful

      Spake he, as, after the tocsin's alarum, distinctly the clock strikes.

      "What is this that ye do, my children? what madness has seized you?

      Forty years of my life have I labored among you, and taught you,

      Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one another!

      Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and privations?

      Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and forgiveness?

      This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you profane it

      Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred?

      Lo! where the crucified Christ from his cross is gazing upon you!

      See! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy compassion!

      Hark! how those lips still repeat the prayer, 'O Father, forgive them!'

      Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked assail us,

      Let us repeat it now, and say, 'O Father, forgive them!'"

      Few were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts of his people

      Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded the passionate outbreak,

      While they repeated his prayer, and said, "O Father, forgive them!"

       Then came the evening service. The tapers gleamed from the altar.

      Fervent and deep was the voice of the priest and the people responded,

      Not with their lips alone, but their hearts; and the Ave Maria

      Sang they, and fell on their knees, and their souls, with devotion translated,

      Rose on the ardor of prayer, like Elijah ascending to heaven.

       Meanwhile had spread in the village the tidings of ill, and on all sides

      Wandered, wailing, from house to house the women and children.

      Long at her father's door Evangeline stood, with her right hand

      Shielding her eyes from the level rays of the sun, that, descending,

      Lighted the village street with mysterious splendor, and roofed each

      Peasant's cottage with golden thatch, and emblazoned its windows.

      Long within had been spread the snow-white cloth on the table;

      There stood the wheaten loaf, and the honey fragrant with wild-flowers;

      There stood the tankard of ale, and the cheese fresh brought from the dairy;

      And, at the head of the board, the great arm-chair of the farmer.

      Thus did Evangeline wait at her father's door, as the sunset

      Threw the long shadows of trees o'er the broad ambrosial meadows.

      Ah! on her spirit within a deeper shadow had fallen,

      And from the fields of her soul a fragrance celestial ascended—

      Charity, meekness, love, and hope, and forgiveness, and patience!

      Then, all-forgetful of self, she wandered into the village,

      Cheering with looks and words the mournful hearts of the women,

      As o'er the darkening fields with lingering steps they departed,

      Urged by their household cares, and the weary feet of their children.

      Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmering vapors

      Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descending from Sinai.

      Sweetly over the village the bell of the Angelus sounded.

       Meanwhile, amid the gloom, by the church Evangeline lingered.

      All was silent within; and in vain at the door and the windows

      Stood she, and listened and looked, till, overcome by emotion,

      "Gabriel!" cried she aloud with tremulous voice; but no answer

      Came from the graves of the dead, nor the gloomier grave of the living.

      Slowly

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