For you have held me too long in prison, wrongfully, and without cause; and I will tell you how I had gone from France, I and my people meaning to go against the Saracens. And so I had promised Hugh de Carvalay, intending to work out my salvation." "Why then went you not 'straight without stopping," Isaid the Prince. "I will tell you," said Bertrand in a loud voice. "We found Peter, the curse of God confound him, who had long since thrice falsely murdered his noble Queen, born of the noble line of Bourbon, and of the blood of my Lord St Louis, which lady was your cousin by the best blood in your body. Straightway then I stopped, to take vengeance for her, and to help Henry; for well I know and surely I believe, that he is the right king and the true heir of Spain. And also to destroy, and put to an end Jews, and Saracens, of whom there are too many in these parts. Now through great pride you have come to Spain to the best of your ability, both through covetousness of gold and silver, and that you may have the throne after the death of Peter, who reigns wrongfully, by which journey you have, in the first place, injured your own blood, and troubled me and my people: whence it has come to pass, that after you have so ruined your friends, and- -you and your people have been all famished, and suffered great pain and labour, Peter has deceived you by cheating and trickery, for he has not kept faith nor covenant with you, for which, by my faith, I thank him heartily." When Bertrand had related his reasons, the prince rose, and could not help saying that on his soul Bertrand was right, and the barons said that he had spoken truth. Then was there great joy stirring all round and about, and they said of Bertrand, one to another, "See there a brave Breton." But the prince called, and said to him, "You shall not escape

me without paying a good ransom; and yet it vexes me that you obtain such favour. But men say that I keep you prisoner because I fear you, and to the end that every one may cease to suspect this, and may know that I neither fear nor care for you, I will deliver you on payment of sufficient ransom. Sir," said Bertrand, "I am a poor knight of little name, and not so born as that I should find help in plenty. And besides, my estate is mortgaged for purchase of war horses, and also I owe in this town full ten thousand florins. Be moderate, therefore, and deliver me. "Where will you go, fair Sir?" said the prince. "Sir," said Bertrand, "I will go where I may regain my loss, and more I say not." "Consider then," said the prince, "what ransom you will give me: for what you will shall be enough for me." Sir," said

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Bertrand, “I trust you will not stoop to retract your meaning. And since you are content to refer it to my pleasure, I ought not to value myself too low. So I will give and engage for my freedom one hundred thousand double golden florins.” And when the prince heard him his colour changed, and he looked round at his knights, saying, "Does he mean to make game of me that he offers such a sum? for I would gladly quit him for the quarter. "Bertrand," said he, neither can you pay it, nor do I wish such a sum; so consider again." "Sire," said Bertrand, "since you will not so much, I place myself at sixty thousand double florins, you shall not have less, sobeit you will discharge me." "Well," said the prince, "I agree to it." Then said Bertrand loudly, "Sir, Prince Henry may well and truly vaunt that he will die king of Spain, cost him what it may, and he will lend me one half my ransom, and the King of France the other; and if I can neither go nor send to these two, I would get all the spinstresses in France to spin it rather than

And

that I should remain longer in your hands."* when the prince had heard him he thus said: "What sort of man is this! He startles at nothing, either in act or thought, no more than if he had all the gold which is in the world. He has set himself at sixty thousand double florins, and I would willingly have quitted him for ten thousand." And all the barons also marvelled greatly. "Am I then at liberty?" said the gallant Bertrand. And Chandos asked him whence the money should come. "Sir," said he, "I have good friends, as I shall find, I am certain." By my faith," said Chandos, "I am much rejoiced therefore, and if you have need of my help, thus much I say, I will lend you ten thousand.” "Sir," said Bertrand, “I thank you. But before I seek anything of you I will try the people of my own country." The news of this matter went through the city of Bordeaux. There you might see all persons, great and small, citizens, and artisans of all sorts, run towards the mansion of the prince to see Bertrand. And when the prince's knights saw the people assemble thus, and knew the cause of their coming, they brought the said Bertrand to lean out at a window, who laughed heartily at the matter. when the commoners saw him from a distance, they said, "He is a downright enemy! cursed be the hour that he escapes alive. He has done much evil, and will do worse." And others said, "Have we idled and yawned, and run away from our business to look at such a squire as this! May God bless him not! for he is an ugly fellow, and unable to pay the ransom at which he is valued." "Whence should he draw it?" said others; "he will never pay a single penny of his own, but will pilfer it through the broad land." And those who knew Bertrand better said to them, "Now argue not so much in using such words, for

And

* Si le gagneroie aincois a filler toutes les filleresses qui en France sont, que ce que je demourasse plus entre vos mains

there is no better knight in the world, and none that better knows how to make war. And there is no castle, however strong, however high the rock on which it stauds, that would not soon surrender if he went thither to assault it: and, throughout the kingdom of France, there is no man nor woman, however poor, who would not contribute, if he needed it, rather than that he should remain in prison.” ’*

* Hist. du Messire Bertrand du Guesclin.

Tyranny of Cambyses, terminating in madness-of Caligula - of the Emperor Paul.

No questions which can become the subject of judicial examination are more delicate and difficult than those which depend upon a man's mental sanity, whether the case be of a civil or a criminal nature; whether it regard his competence to manage his own affairs, or his possession of that moral feeling of right and wrong, in the absence of which he cannot be justly punished as a responsible agent. In the first instance, daily experience shows us that general eccentricity, and even delusion upon particular subjects may exist in union with the most acute perception of personal interests; in the second, it is equally clear that the moral sense may be perverted upon one or more points without being destroyed, and indeed without any other indication of mental disease. We may take as an example of this the recent burning of York Cathedral. Martin believed this to be morally a meritorious act, and herein lay his madness: on a case of murder, robbery, or any other