I have lost the power of exertion. Well, Death finishes this weary struggle. Death! mighty, glorious, and triumphant Death! if thou hadst not existed before, I must have invented thee as a resource."
But in vain Charles sought to regain his gloomy tranquillity. He then endeavoured to fix his attention on outward objects; they could only give food to his discontent: the splendid equipages hurrying past, the glittering shops, the gay crowd now beginning to appear, brought with them the images of ungratified wishes and painful contrasts. He turned into a by street, where a stall of old books caught his eye; mechanically he opened them one after another, till at last his attention became riveted on an almost worn-out volume of ancient ballads. Of itself, it opened at Chevy Chase—
"The stout Earl of Northumberland
A vow to God did make.
His pleasure in the Scottish woods
Three summer days to take."
"How perfectly," thought he, "does this set forth the whole spirit of the age—its love of war and of the chase, and its superstition! The feudal chieftain is not content with the chase unless it be in an enemy's ground, and actually believes in his own mind that he hallows this act of aggression by calling God to witness his resolve. How characteristic is the meeting between the two earls, and the inter-
