Truly, I see Thou art!—with nails hinged fast:
Yet faster barred and locked with bolts of love.
I, treasure seeking, through Thee would go past.
Than lock or hinges must I stronger prove?
“A knock will do’t.” A knock! Where durst I, Lord?
“Knock at my heart; there all my wealth is stored.”
THE TRAGEDY OF THE TEMPLE.
CONCLUDED.
While the so-called King of France was thus subjected to the fierce and brutal caprice of one man, there were thousands of loyal hearts beating in pity for him, and longing to liberate and crown him, even at the price of their blood. The faithful army of La Vendée was fighting for him, and with a courage and determination that caused some anxiety among the good patriots as to the possible issue of the campaign. The movement was held up to ridicule; the young prince was mockingly styled King of La Vendée. Nevertheless, the republicans were alarmed, and the hopes of the royalists were reviving. The Simons were discussing these matters one evening over the newspaper, when Simon, looking at the forlorn, broken-spirited little monarch, whose cause was thus creating strife and bloodshed far beyond his dungeon’s walls, exclaimed sneeringly: “I say, little wolf-cub, they talk of setting up the throne again, and putting thee in thy father’s place; what wouldst thou do to me if they made thee king?” The boy raised his dim blue eyes from the ground, where they were now habitually fixed, and replied: “I would forgive thee!” Mme. Simon, in relating this incident long after, said that even her husband seemed for a moment awed by the sublime simplicity of the answer.