Will have two wives; and one son. Will go warring
to where the lines of longitude and latitude cross,
fifty-five months. There, his enemies will burn with
fire the great city, and he will enter there and depart
from thence with his men, from under ashes and great
ruins; and his men, having no longer either bread or
water, through great and extreme cold, will be so
unfortunate that two-thirds of his army will perish, and,
moreover, the half of the remainder, being no longer
in his dominion.

    Then the great man, abandoned, betrayed by his
friends, will be chased in his turn with great loss near
to his native soil by the great European population.
In his place will be put the kings of the old blood of
the Capet.

    He, forced into exile in the sea from which he came
so young, and near to his native soil, remaining for
eleven moons with some of his men, true friends and
soldiers, and not amounting to more than seven times
seven times seven times two times in number.
Immediately the eleven moons are past, will he and his
men take ship and set foot on the Celto-Gallic land.

    And he will march to the great city, where is
seated the king of the old blood of the Capet, who
rises, flees, carrying with him royal ornaments. Puts
kings in his ancient domination. Gives his people
many admirable laws.

    Then, cleared away again by a threefold European
population (par trinité population Européenne) after
three moons, and the third of a moon. The king of
the old blood of the Capet is put back in his place;
and he, believed to be dead by his people and soldiers,
who during that time will keep his memorials on their
breasts. The Celts and Gauls, like tigers and wolves,
will devour each other. The blood of the old king of
the Capet will le the plaything of black treasons. The
discontented will be deceived, and by fire and sword
put to death; the lily maintained; but the last
branches of the old blood still menaced.

    So they will quarrel among themselves.

Up to this point the prophecy seems to point
to the fortunes of Napoleon, the old Bourbons,
and the commencement of Louis Philippe's
reign. But now comes the end of it. After
the mutual animosity of the old and young
blood of the Capet, and the discontent of the
French nation, we may suppose ourselves
arrived at the end of eighteen forty-eight.

    Then a new combatant will advance towards the
great city . . . . . He will bear lion and cock on his
armour. Then the lance will be given him by a great
prince of the East. (Ainsi la lance lui sera donnée
par grand prince d'Orient.)

    He will be marvellously seconded by the warlike
people of Gaul, who will unite themselves to the
Parisians to put an end to troubles; collect soldiers,
and cover themselves with branches of olives.

    Still warring with such glory seven times seven
moons, that a threefold European population, with
great fear, and cries, and tears, offer their sons in
hostage; bend beneath laws sound, just, and beloved
by all.

The new combatant, whoever he is, who
comes in so  apropos to put an end to civil
dissension, is evidently supported by the
soldiers—no less than by the people of Gaul—he
bears for his cognizance a lion and a cock;
which, without any great stretch of
ingenuity, may be taken to represent an alliance
between France and England; and, immediately
on this being arranged, a lance is given
him by the great prince of the Orient. We
may venture to interpret this, " a cause of
war is furnished to the allied Lion and Cock,
by the Sultan of Turkey."

The war we are sorry to see is to last longer
than we hoped: it is not to be concluded till
the entire submission and humiliation of
three European states, and that is not to
occur for forty-nine months. However, the
triumphant conclusion will justify any little
delay, and we only regret that the indemnity
for the expenses of the war is not more
distinctly expressed. But the sons deposited
as hostages will give the allies an immense
power over the royalties of Berlin, Vienna,
and Petersburg,

External glory is, however, to be followed
by great calamities at home. Peace is only
to endure for twenty-five moons.

    In Lutetia (Paris) the Seine, reddened with blood
(the consequence of struggles to the death) will widen
its bed with ruin and mortality. New seditions of
discontented maillotins (factions). Then they will be
chased from the palace of the kings by the man of
valour; and afterwards the immense Gauls declared
by all people the great and metropolitan nation.

    And he, saving the ancient remains of the old
blood of the Capet, rules the destinies of the
world, makes himself sovereign council of every
nation and people; lays foundation of fruit without
end—and dies."

Let every one decide what all this means
for himself. We cannot profess that we are
altogether pleased with the prospect. But
time will show.

TARDY JUSTICE.

IN the year of grace sixteen hundred and
eighty-seven, Lawrent Guillemott d'Anglade,
lived in a fine house in the Rue Royale, at
Paris, near the Bastille. He and his wife
lived in great style, kept their carriage, played
high, talked incessantly of their high birth
and family estate, appeared to have plenty
of money—which they lent occasionally upon
good security—and, on the strength of their
own representations obtained entrance into
the society of some of the best houses in Paris.
For the rest, they were a worthy, respectable
couple, like hundreds of others; their only
sin being that they gave themselves out for
being much richer and grander than they
actually were; M. d'Anglade being a man of
low birth and very moderate means. This
was the beginning of all the sorrows that
afterwards befel them.

M. d'Anglade and his wife occupied the
greater part of the house; but, as is general
in Paris, there were other inmates. A
certain Count and Countess de Montgommeri
occupied the ground-floor and the rooms
above. The ground-floor consisted of three
rooms, which all opened into a long corridor,
at one end of which was the porte-cochère of