think his wife knew of his having that money, and that he had not touched it for several weeks, while the wife declared that she had several times counted it over along with him, and that the last reckoning of it had taken place three or four days back. M. d'Anglade's previous character was, besides, inquired into, and report said that he was a gambler. A robbery was also proved to have taken place in the same house before Count de Mongommery came to it, and while D'Anglade lived in it, the authors of which had never been detected.

All these circumstances, slight as they were singly, were held in the mass to justify the application of the torture to the unfortunate M. d'Anglade, in order to extract from him a confession of that guilt which he persisted in denying. He was a man of a weak frame of body, and of a sensitive spirit. The torture he bore with extreme firmness, and not a word or sign in acknowledgment of the charge, could be elicited from him. But this did not, according to the laws of that day, establish his innocence. On the contrary, though never regularly convicted in a court of justice, he and his wife were condemned by an arbitrary decree to all the penalties attending conviction. On the 16th of February 1688, after undergoing the torture, and lying five months in confinement, M. d'Anglade was sentenced to the galleys for nine years, and his wife to banishment from Paris and its environs for the same period; besides which, all their property was confiscated, in order to make restitution to the Count de Mongommery of the money he had lost. The sums which the D'Anglades were decreed to pay, amounted in all to about 32,000 livres.

M. d'Anglade went with a chain of criminals to Marseille, where he died within four months. His health had gradually declined in prison, and the torture gave the crowning blow. He died, in a resigned and even cheerful frame of mind, with his eyes fixed on another and a better world, praying for forgiveness to all who had injured him. Madame d'Anglade's health also broke up in confinement, and prevented her from being ever

removed from Paris, in pursuance of her sentence. But her cares were greatly soothed by the presence of her daughter, a child of five years old, and of a sweet and affectionate disposition. After the mother recovered in some degree, the child fell ill, chiefly owing to the wretched character of the lodgment to which they were doomed. The mother besought and obtained the favour of being removed to a cell of a somewhat better kind; and here she was occupied in attending upon her child when a great change took place in the condition of this unhappy family.

Within a short period of the decease of M. d'Anglade, certain anonymous letters came into the hands of the criminal authorities, announcing that the writer had retired into a cloister, and that he felt it necessary to unburden his conscience by revealing the true authors of the robbery of Count de Mongommery's property. These were, the writer said, a man named Vincent Belestre, and the chaplain Gagnard, the latter of whom had been in the count's service at the time, but had since left it. A woman named Comble was also mentioned as one who knew all the particulars. Though the Count de Mongommery's partisans averred these letters to be an invention of Madame d'Anglade, yet inquiries were made into the characters of Belestre and Gagnard, which were found to be of the very worst order. They were discovered also to have exhibited about the time in question a sudden influx of wealth. These circumstances induced a search for them, which was unsuccessful, until, as if providentially, both men came into custody upon other charges. A short time afterwards, the writer of the anonymous letters, who was a needy priest of the name of Fontpeire, and the woman Comble, were brought forward, and a strong body of testimony came out respecting the robbery. It was brought home beyond all possibility of doubt to Belestre and Gagnard. Gagnard had given his accomplice impressions of all the necessary keys, and Belestre had fabricated false ones, by the aid of which he had committed the robbery. It is

unnecessary to enter into all the particulars which came out one by one against the prisoners. Suffice it to say, that in the end Gagnard confessed the whole. He and his associate in guilt paid the penalty of it with their lives. It is remarkable that Gagnard said before his execution, that had he been questioned at the time the house was searched, he was in such a state of agitation as must have made him confess all. A considerable property purchased with the stolen money by Belestre, and the valuable pearl-necklace, were recovered by the Count de Mongommery.

These discoveries could not restore the innocent D'Anglade to life, but his name, at least, might be cleared from reproach. Madame d'Anglade demanded that the justification of her husband's memory and of her own innocence should be pronounced and also claimed the restitution of their property, as well as damages from the Count de Mongommery for his calumnious accusation. This produced a trial of some importance, as the count justified the proceedings which had taken place, and insisted, among other pleas, that damages might as well be sought from the ministers of the law as from him. The answers made by Madaine d'Anglade to his recapitulation of the evidence against her husband and herself, shew clearly that if men could at the time have rid their minds of the unhappy prepossession against the accused, the issue of the case would not have been what it was. Madame d'Anglade shewed, that a slight given by the count's sisters to her husband had caused his refusal to go to the country with the count, and proved from what parties the rouleau of seventy louis had been got by her husband. The printed genealogy, she also proved, had been sold to her by a broker. Many other points were cleared up by her, some of which had been explained at the very first; but the eyes of justice were dimmed by prejudice. Apparently, the court now felt that the Count de Mongommery's rash confidence, in stating that he would be responsible for the honesty of his servants,' had prevented the truly

guilty parties from being examined and detected. His assertion, also, that the printed genealogy belonged to him, had materially influenced the case, and was utterly devoid of foundation. Upon these and other grounds, the court decided that the count should restore all the property of the D'Anglades, and should pay all the expenses, from first to last, which this case had occasioned; which last heavy imposition was regarded by the court as a sufficient assignment of damages against the count.

Thus ended this case, in which an unfortunate man lost his life almost on mere suspicion. We may congratulate ourselves, that such things could not occur in our day, where the accused and accuser have equal facilities. Though the loss of a husband and a father was too severe a one to be ever forgot, Madame d'Anglade and her daughter had the satisfaction, at least, of reentering society with honour and an unblemished name. The sympathy of the world was so much excited in their favour, that a portion of 100,000 livres was collected, and presented to the daughter of the ill-fated D'Anglade. Sho afterwards married M. des Essarts, counsellor-at-law.

THE SAILOR AND THE BEAR.

A HULL whaler was moored to a field of ice, on which, at a considerable distance, a large bear was observed prowling about for prey. One of the ship's company, emboldened by an artificial courage, derived from the free use of his rum, which in his economy he had stored for special occasions, undertook to pursue and attack the bear that was within view. Armed only with a whale-lance, he resolutely, and against all persuasion, set out on his adventurous exploit. A fatiguing journey of about half a league, over a surface of yielding snow and rugged hummocks, brought him within a few yards of the enemy,

which, to his surprise, undauntedly faced him, and seemed to invite him to the combat. His courage being, by this time, greatly subdued, partly by the evaporation of the stimulus he had employed, and partly by the undismayed and even threatening aspect of the bear, he levelled his lance in an attitude suited either for offensive or defensive action, and stopped. The bear also stood still. In vain the adventurer tried to rally courage to make the attack: his enemy was too formidable, and his appearance too imposing. In vain also he shouted, advanced his lance, and made feints of attack; the enemy, either not understanding them, or despising such unmanliness, obstinately stood his ground. Already the limbs of the sailor began to shake, the lance trembled in the rest, and his gaze, which had hitherto been steadfast, began to quiver; but the fear of ridicule from his messmates still had its influence, and he yet scarcely dared to retreat. Bruin, however, possessing less reflection, or being more regardless of consequences, began, with the most audacious boldness, to advance. His nigh approach and unshaken step subdued the spark of bravery and that dread of ridicule that had hitherto upheld our adventurer; he turned and fled. But now was the time of danger. The sailor's flight encouraged the bear in his turn to pursue ; and being better practised in snow-travelling, and better provided for it, he rapidly gained upon the fugitive. The whale-lance, his only defence, encumbering him in his retreat, he threw it down, and kept on. This fortunately excited the bear's attention; he stopped, pawed it, bit it, and then resumed the chase. Again he was at the heels of the panting seaman, who, conscious of the favourable effect of the lance, dropped a mitten: the stratagem succeeded, and while bruin again stopped to examine it, the fugitive, improving the interval, made considerable progress ahead. Still the bear resumed the pursuit with the most provoking perseverance, excepting when arrested by another mitten, and finally by a hat, which he tore to shreds between his teeth and his paws, and would no doubt have soon made the incautious adventurer his