Spain, and he now fondly hoped that with this accession to his naval power, he could sweep Nelson from the seas, and then be able to carry out any plan he desired. His hopes were, however, soon disappointed; for at Trafalgar, in 1805, Nelson gained a decided victory over the two combined fleets, and completely ruined their naval power. The victory was unfortunately clouded by the death of the gallant hero himself, who was interred with princely honours in St. Paul's cathedral.

Although Napoleon was unsuccessful by sea, he was most fortunate upon land. The same year that saw him defeated at Trafalgar beheld him victor at Austerlitz, and Austria within his power; and, next year, the victory at Jena made him master of Prussia. Only Russia and Britain now remained to be conquered, that his longcherished designs of universal dominion might be realized.

In a lucky hour for the peace of Europe, Spain called for the assistance of England against France. This, for political reasons, was readily granted, though to a state that had long been unfriendly.

While Wellington was driving the French out of Spain, Napoleon undertook a march into Russia, with half a million of well-appointed troops. This unfortunate invasion was the beginning of the decline of his power; for nearly the whole of his soldiers died in the retreat, with only "the snow for their winding-sheet." He endeavoured to retrieve his disaster by renewed effort; but the defeat of Leipsic, and the advance of the allies, put an end to his career, and he was banished to the island of Elba, from which he soon escaped. The "hundred days that followed ended at Waterloo, where all was lost but his life. His banishment to St. Helena ends the romantic tale. His rise and fall teach the valuable lesson of the vast power of energy and perseverance on the one hand, and warn us to be contented with the lot that Providence assigns to us on the other.

George III. had not the proud satisfaction of seeing the grand issue of events in his country's favour, for his mind had become deranged, and the throne had to be filled by his eldest son, George, as regent, from 1811. During the

regency a second American war occurred, and the hombardment of Algiers under Lord Exmouth, in 1816.

In 1820, George III. died in the 82nd year of his age, and 60th of his reign. A more kindly, homely, goodprincipled king had not ruled before. His name is always remembered with affection, and it was from the heart that all men spoke when they called him the "good King George."

EXERCISE.-40. MEANINGS OF WORDS, ETC.

1. Give the meaning of the following:-demeanour, substantiate, intrigues, enthusiasm, chivalrous, effectually, serenity, retrieve, predecessor, dynasty, colossal, interred.

2. Distinguish between:-hours, ours; invade, inveighed; throne, thrown.

3. Illustrate the different meanings of :- spirit, fleet, founded, back. 4. Write out a brief account of the reign of George III.

5. Where is Algiers? What led to it bombardment by Lord Exmouth in 1816 ?

THE ORIGIN OF ROAST PIG.

CHARLES LAMB.

man-u-script [L. manus, the hand; scriptus, from scribo, to write], any written document or paper. con-fla-gra-tion [L. con, together: flagro, to burn], a great burning. re-trib-u-tor-y [L. re, back; tribuo, to assign], repaying, giving back in return. con-ster-na-tion [L. con, together; sterno, to throw down], confusion, astonishment, horror. premon-i-to-ry [L. præ, before; moneo, to advise], forewarning.

MANKIND, says a Chinese manuscript, for the first seventy thousand ages eat their meat raw, clawing it or biting it from the living animal, just as they do in Abyssinia to this day. The manuscript goes on to say that the art of roasting, or rather broiling (which I take to be the elder brother), was accidentally discovered in the manner following:

The swineherd, Ho-ti, having gone out into the wood one morning, as his manner was, to collect food for his hogs, left his cottage in the care of his eldest son, Bo-bo, a great lubberly boy, who, being fond of playing with fire, as younkers of his age commonly are, let some sparks escape into a bundle of straw, which, kindling quickly, spread the conflagration over every part of their poor mansion, till it

was reduced to ashes. Together with the cottage (a sorry antediluvian makeshift of a building, you may think it), what was of much more importance, a fine litter of newfarrowed pigs, no less than nine in number, perished. China pigs have been esteemed a luxury all over the East, from the remotest periods that we read of. Bo-bo was in the utmost consternation, as you may think, not so much for the sake of the tenement, which his father and he could easily build up again with a few dry branches and the labour of an hour or two at any time, as for the loss of the pigs.

While he was thinking what he should say to his father, and wringing his hands over the smoking remnants of one of those untimely sufferers, an odour assailed his nostrils unlike any scent which he had before experienced. What could it proceed from? Not from the burnt cottage-he had smelt that smell before; indeed, this was by no means the first accident of the kind which had occurred through the negligence of this unlucky young firebrand-much less did it resemble that of any known herb, weed, or flower. A premonitory moistening at the same time overflowed his nether lip. He knew not what to think. He next stooped down to feel the pig, if there were any signs of life in it. He burnt his fingers, and to cool them he applied them, in his booby fashion, to his mouth. Some of the crumbs of the scorched skin had come away with his fingers, and for the first time in his life (in the world's life, indeed, for before him no man had known it) he tasted-crackling! Again he felt and fumbled at the pig. It did not burn him so much now, still he licked his fingers from a sort of habit. The truth at length broke into his slow understanding that it was the pig that smelt so, and the pig that tasted so delicious; and surrendering himself up to the new-born pleasure, he fell to tearing up whole handfuls of the scorched skin with the flesh next it, and was cramming it down his throat in his beastly fashion, when his sire entered amid the smoking rafters, armed with retributory cudgel; and finding how affairs stood, began to rain blows upon the young rogue's shoulders as thick as hailstones, which Bo-bo heeded not any more than if they had been flies. The tickling pleasure, which he experienced in his lower region, had

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rendered him quite callous to any inconveniences he might feel in those remote quarters. His father might lay on, but he could not beat him from his pig till he had fairly made an end of it; when, becoming a little more sensible of his situation, something like the following dialogue ensued :—

"You graceless whelp, what have you got there devouring? Is it not enough that you have burnt me down three houses with your dog's tricks, but you must be eating fire, and I know not what? What have you got there, I say?"

"Oh, father, the pig-the pig! Do come and taste how nice the burnt pig eats!"

The ears of Ho-ti tingled with horror. He bewailed his hard fate that ever he should beget a son that should eat burnt pig.

Bo-bo, whose scent was wonderfully sharpened since morning, soon raked out another pig, and fairly rending it asunder, thrust the lesser half by main force into the fists of Ho-ti, still shouting out, "Eat, eat, eat the burnt pig, father; only taste! O my!" with such-like barbarous ejaculations, cramming all the while as if he would choke.

Ho-ti trembled in every joint while he grasped the abominable thing, wavering whether he should not put his son to death for an unnatural young monster, when the crackling scorched his fingers as it had done his son's, and applying the same remedy to them, he, in his turn, tasted some of its flavour, which, make what sour mouths he would for a pretence, proved not altogether displeasing to him. In conclusion (for the manuscript here is a little tedious) both father and son fairly sat down to the mess, and never left off till they had despatched all that remained of the litter.

Bo-bo was strictly enjoined not to let the secret escape, for the neighbours would certainly have stoned them for a couple of abominable wretches, who could think of improving upon the good meat which God had sent them. Nevertheless, strange stories got about. It was observed that Ho-ti's cottage was burnt down now more frequently than ever. Nothing but fires from this time forward. Some would break out in broad day, others in the night-time. As often as the sow farrowed, so sure was the house of Ho-ti to be in a blaze; and Ho-ti himself, which was the more

remarkable, instead of chastising his son, seemed to grow more indulgent to him than ever. At length they were watched, the terrible mystery discovered, and father and son summoned to take their trial at Pekin, then an inconsiderable assize-town. Evidence was given, the obnoxious food itself produced in court, and the verdict about to be pronounced, when the foreman of the jury begged that some of the burnt pig, of eating which the culprits stood accused, might be handed into the box. He handled it, and they all handled it, and burning their fingers as Bo-bo and his father had done before them, and nature prompting to each of them the same remedy, against the face of all the facts, and the clearest charge which judge had ever given to the surprise of the whole Court, townsfolk, strangers, reporters, and all present without leaving the box, or any manner of consultation whatever, they brought in a simultaneous verdict of Not Guilty.

The judge, who was a shrewd fellow, winked at the manifest iniquity of the decision; and, when the Court was dismissed, went privily and bought up all the pigs that could be had for love or money. In a few days his lordship's town-house was observed to be on fire. The thing took wing, and now there was nothing to be seen but fires in every direction. Fuel and pigs grew enormously dear all over the district. The insurances offices one and all shut up shop. People built slighter and slighter every day, until it was feared that the very science of architecture would in no long time be lost to the world. Thus this custom of firing houses continued, till, in process of time, says the manuscript, a sage arose, like our Locke, who made a discovery that the flesh of swine, or indeed of any other animal, might be cooked (burnt, as they called it) without the necessity of consuming a whole house to dress it. Then first began the rude form of a gridiron. Roasting by the string, or spit, came in a century or two later-I forget in whose dynasty. By such slow degrees, concludes the manuscript, do the most useful, and seemingly the most obvious, arts make their way among mankind.

Without placing too implicit faith on the account thus given, it must be agreed, that if a worthy pretext for so