s against the statute." The
populace were speechless at the sight, while his companions in arms,
his relations and friends, abandoned themselves to despair. Venice
presented one universal scene of mourning.

On the evening of the fatal day, Amalia stood upon the terrace of her
palace, overlooking the grand canal. She contemplated with pleasurable
melancholy the calm and even course of the moon, whose modest light
shone in the cloudless sky. Her thoughts were of Alvise. To divert
them, she turned to gaze on a long procession of illuminated gondolas,
from which she heard a strain of plaintive music, as if of prayers for
the dead, A dreadful presentiment seized her heart; she inquired the
purpose of the procession, and heard, with unspeakable terror, that it
was the solemnization of the funeral rites of a Venetian nobleman, who
had been beheaded for high treason. "His name?" cried the breathless
girl, in almost unintelligible accents: "Alvise Sanuto."

She fell, as if shot; and striking her head in the fall upon a
projecting part of the terrace, was mortally wounded, and
expired.--_Lettere su Venezia_--_Translated in the Oxford Literary
Gaz._

* * * * *

THE ANECDOTE GALLERY.

* * * * *

INDEPENDENCE

Is the word, of all others, that Irish--men, women, and
children--least understand; and the calmness, or rather indifference,
with which they submit to dependence, bitter and miserable as it is,
must be a source of deep regret to all "who love the land," or feel
anxious to uphold the dignity of human kind. Let us select a few cases
from our Irish village--such as are abundant in every neighbourhood.
Shane Thurlough, "as dacent a boy," and Shane's wife, as
"clane-skinned a girl," as any in the world. There is Shane, an
active, handsome-looking fellow, leaning over the half-door of his
cottage, kicking a hole in the wall with his brogue, and picking up
all the large gravel within his reach to pelt the ducks with--those
useful Irish scavengers. Let us speak to him. "Good morrow, Shane!"
"Och! the bright bames of heaven on ye every day! and kindly welcome,
my lady--and won't ye step in and rest--it's powerful hot, and a
beautiful summer, sure--the Lord be praised!" "Thank you, Shane. I
thought you were going to cut the hayfield to-day--if a heavy shower
comes, it will be spoil'd; it has been fit for the sithe these two
days." "Sure, it's all owing t