280 The Arch-Druid : [SEPT. 



diction respecting the Ides of May that prediction, against which cou- 

 rage and discipline, and skill and experience, were alike incompetent 

 to defend him. In vain he strove to shake off the gloom with which 

 this reflection inspired him. The very hour served to enhance it. What 

 is there in the sabbath stillness of midnight that should thus fling a yet 

 deeper shade over the brow of thought ? The stars that, like lamps 

 hung up on high, send down a tranquil radiance upon earth ; the moon, 

 that treads the steadfast floors of heaven in the very spirit of peace and 

 beauty ; the breeze, that brings the various harmonies of creation to the 

 listening ear of reflection, softening the rude, and heightening the pen- 

 sive cadences of birds, and streams, and waterfalls, till the very soul of 

 sacred melody seems breathing in them, surely, these are objects to 

 uplift and solemnize, not to degrade and dispirit, contemplation ! Where, 

 then, lies the secret of the dark spell which night usually holds over 

 the feelings. Not in its encouragement of, but in its stern monopoly 

 over, thought ! In the power with which it compels, meditation, and, 

 by consequence, melancholy ; for, with the majority, reflection is but 

 another word for sadness. Night shadowy, mysterious, phantom- 

 peopled Night the avenger the searcher of the soul the spirit of 

 many tones, Night shuts out the busy interests which distract atten- 

 tion during the day, and throws man on his own mental resources. It 

 brings him face to face with his Creator, and bids him feel that his 

 inmost thoughts are stripped naked, and scrutinized by Celestial Intelli- 

 gence ! By day, the world steals between man and his Maker, render- 

 ing callous the finer organs of humanity ; but by night that world is 

 shut out ; its hold over the mind is let go ; its petty, miserable intrigues 

 find their fitting level ; and every object over which the eye ranges, every 

 sound which falls upon the ear are so many helps by which the spirit 

 of reflection mounts to heaven. Memory, too the spectral figure of 

 Memory walks, like other phantoms, chiefly by night ; and who, even 

 among the most impassive and unenlightened, can look upon her awful 

 form without a shudder ? 



Sergius was a rude soldier ; but he was not without his moments 

 of reflection, and even tenderness the deeper, perhaps, inasmuch 

 as they were rare and unlooked-for ; and as he now recalled the 

 recollection of the thousands whom his ruthless ambition had blotted 

 out from the book of life ; as his eye glanced along the array of tents 

 that gleamed in the starlight around him, and the conviction forced 

 itself on his mind, that of the multitudes thus entranced in slumber, num- 

 bers would, ere the morrow's sunset, lie stretched on earth, exchanging 

 a transient for an eternal sleep, a pang shot across his heart; and it 

 was not till the early cock had crowed, that he was enabled to get an 

 hour's hurried repose. 



The important day had now arrived which was to decide the destiny 

 of the South Britons. The morning broke bright and unclouded ; the 

 mists were fast steaming up from the vallies, and rolling off the sides of 

 the Black Mountains ; and the hum of human voices, the neighing of 

 steeds, and the sharp, shrill clank of armour, began to be heard along 

 the lines of the Roman tents. 



Sergius was among the first astir in the field. With the first sound of 

 the trumpet he had laughed off the depressing reveries of night ; and as 

 he mounted his war-horse, and galloped from squadron to squadron, 

 followed by a glittering cavalcade of officers, the sternness of the soldier 



