forward by ill-treatment, and by the desire to triumph over my enemies; but, after all, a very large part of my nearly a hundred volumes may be fairly ascribed to the wife and children."

66

I might have done something, but, perhaps, a thousandth part of what I have done; not even a thousandth part, for the chances are that I, being fond of a military life, should have ended my days ten or twenty years ago, in consequence of wounds or fatigue, or more likely in consequence of some haughty and insolent fool, whom nature had formed to black my shoes, and whom a system of corruption had made my commander. Love came and rescued me from this state of horrible slavery; placed the whole of my time at my own disposal; made me free as air; removed every restraint upon the operations of the mind, naturally disposed to communicate its thoughts to others; and gave me for my leisure hours a companion, who, though deprived of all opportunity of acquir ing what is called learning, had so much good sense, so much useful knowledge, was so innocent, so just in all her ways, so pure in thought, word, and deed, so disinterested, so generous, so devoted to me and her children, so free from all disguise, and with all so beautiful and so talkative, and in a voice so sweet, so cheering, that I must, seeing the health and the capacity which it had pleased God to give me, have been a criminal if I had done much less than that which I have done; and I have always said, that if my country feel any gratitude for my labours, that gratitude is due to her full as much as to me.

"Care! What care have I known? I have been buffeted about by this powerful and vindictive Government; I have had repeatedly

the fruit of my labour snatched away from me by it; but I had a partner that never frowned, that was never melancholy, that never was subdued in spirit, that never abated a smile, on these occasions, that justified me, and sustained me by her courageous example; and that was just as busy and zealous in taking care of the whole; just as cheerful, and just as full of caresses, when brought down to a mean hired lodging, as when the mistress of a fine country house, with all its accompaniments; and whether from her words or looks, no one could gather that she regretted the change. What 'cares' have I had then? What have I had worth the name of cares'? 6

"And how is it now? How is it when the sixty-fourth year has come? And how should I have been without this wife and these children? I might have amassed a tolerable heap of money, but what would that have done for me? It might have bought me plenty professions of attachment; plenty of persons impatient for my exit from the world; but not one single grain of sorrow, or any anguish that might have attended my approaching end. To me, no being in this world appears so wretched as an 'Old

Good cause had Cobbett to write thus. His wife was with him through his long varied life of trials and troubles. The prudence which she manifested before their marriage was but an earnest of the excellent discretion and sense she manifested afterwards. Had she been a clog to her husband instead of an aid and an encouragement, the world would have wanted much of the labour which he found time and inclination to perform; and as we have seen, had she in their young years of plighted love for

gotten to be patient, enduring, brave, the world would not have heard of the name of Cobbett, his labours for education and political freedom would not have been made, and she would not now be an example of bravery and of valiant living for young and old, for all time, and for every country and clime.

"Eyes not down-dropp'd, nor over-bright, but fed
With the clear-pointed flame of chastity;
Locks not wide dispread,

Madonna-wise, on either side her head;
Sweet lips, whereon perpetually did reign
The summer-calm of golden charity,
Where fixed shadows of thy fixed mood,
Revered Isabel, the crown and head,
The stately flower of female fortitude,
Of perfect wifehood and pure lowlihood.
A courage to endure and to obey-

A hate of gossip parlance, and of sway,
Crown'd Isabel, through all her placid life,
The queen of marriage--a most perfect wife."

Catherine Vassent,

THE HEROINE OF NOYOU.

ON the occurrence of periodic accidents in coal mines, it is almost invariably the duty of the public journalist to record deeds of daring on the part of the miners, either to rescue their fellows, or, when death has supervened, to recover their bodies. True courage and bravery are better thus shown than in the battle-field, where the individual is lost in the mass, and where cowardice would be immediately marked and punished. What alternative is there for the common soldier but to go on?

He may see certain death awaiting him, but the word of command is given, and, like an automaton, he obeys. At times, of course, a man may step from out the ranks and perform deeds of valour which may well entitle his name to be remembered by posterity; but, as a rule, war seldom calls up personal prowess or courage in the ranks. On the other hand, the man who descends the shaft of a coal-mine reeking with gas, to inhale which is certain death, is indeed a courageous hero. Shut out from the sympathy of those interested in his fate, he descends into the bowels of the earth in his work of mercy, in his mission of duty: whether he escape or whether he falls in his self-imposed

task, alike has he earned the title of brave, and alike should he be rewarded with the honours given to heroes.

But what should we say if this duty were undertaken by a woman? The education of the coal-miner has familiarised him with the dangers he is subject to, and has also given him experience in warding off or fencing with those dangers. That experience does not detract from the honour of the enterprise, although it may lessen the danger. But when the danger is undertaken without the guard of experience, and when the difficulties are met, not with the muscular arm of the trained man, but the weaker frame of gentle woman, our surprise and admiration is proportionally increased. It is so excited on reading the chief incident in the life of Catherine Vassent, whose one deed of danger, undertaken voluntarily in the cause of humanity, has elevated her to the highest pinnacle of heroism, and is deserving of remembrance in connection with self-devotion, with that pity which hazards life, and in caring for others, cares not for death.

Catherine Vassent was the daughter of a French peasant, and at the time when she developed so much nobleness of action and of purpose, was employed as a servant, being then in her seventeenth year. The circumstance which called it forth was the leaving unprotected a sewer of considerable depth, which had been opened for repair at Noyou. Four men passing in the evening, as might have been expected, fell in. Their imminent situation was not discovered until midnight, when there were few persons to assist, and those who arrived at the spot feared to descend to the suffocating men, dreading a like fate. The wives and children