that　he　rolled；　stunned　and　senseless；　on　the　ground。
  〃He　is　killed；〃　cried　several　voices。
  〃Fair　self…defence；　by　Hercules！〃　said　Marcus　Coelius。　　〃Bear　witness；　you　all　saw　him　draw　his　dagger。〃
  He　is　not　deadhe　breathes；〃　said　Ligarius。　　〃　Carry　him　into　the　house；　he　is　dreadfully　bruised。〃
  The　rest　of　the　party　retired　with　Clodius。　　Coelius　turned　to　Caesar。
  〃By　all　the　Gods；　Caius！　you　have　won　your　lady　fairly。　　A　splendid　victory！　　You　deserve　a　triumph。〃
  〃What　a　madman　Clodius　has　become！〃
  〃Intolerable。　　But　come　and　sup　with　me　on　the　Nones。　　You　have　no　objection　to　meet　the　Consul？〃
  Cicero？　None　at　all。　　We　need　not　talk　politics。　　Our　old　dispute　about　Plato　and　Epicurus　will　furnish　us　with　plenty　of　conversation。　　So　reckon　upon　me；　my　dear　Marcus；　and　farewell。〃
  Caesar　and　Zoe　turned　away。　　As　soon　as　they　were　beyond　hearing；　she　began　in　great　agitation：
  〃Caesar；　you　are　in　danger。　　I　know　all。　　I　overheard　Catiline　and　Cethegus。　　You　are　engaged　in　a　project　which　must　lead　to　certain　destruction。〃
  〃My　beautiful　Zoe；　I　live　only　for　glory　and　pleasure。　　For　these　I　have　never　hesitated　to　hazard　an　existence　which　they　alone　render　valuable　to　me。　　In　the　present　case；　I　can　assure　you　that　our　scheme　presents　the　fairest　hopes　of　success。〃
  〃So　much　the　worse。　　You　do　not　knowyou　do　not　understand　me。　I　speak　not　of　open　peril；　but　of　secret　treachery。　　Catiline　hates　you；Cethegus　hates　you；your　destruction　is　resolved。　If　you　survive　the　contest；　you　perish　in　the　first　hour　of　victory。　　They　detest　you　for　your　moderation；　they　are　eager　for　blood　and　plunder。　　I　have　risked　my　life　to　bring　you　this　warning；　but　that　is　of　little　moment。　　Farewell！Be　happy。〃
  Caesar　stopped　her。　　〃Do　you　fly　from　my　thanks；　dear　Zoe？〃
  〃I　wish　not　for　your　thanks；　but　for　your　safety；I　desire　not　to　defraud　Valeria　or　Servilia　of　one　caress；　extorted　from　gratitude　or　pity。　　Be　my　feelings　what　they　may；　I　have　learnt　in　a　fearful　school　to　endure　and　to　suppress　them。　　I　have　been　taught　to　abase　a　proud　spirit　to　the　claps　and　hisses　of　the　vulgar；to　smile　on　suitors　who　united　the　insults　of　a　despicable　pride　to　the　endearments　of　a　loathsome　fondness；　to　affect　sprightliness　with　an　aching　head；　and　eyes　from　which　tears　were　ready　to　gush；to　feign　love　with　curses　on　my　lips；　and　madness　in　my　brain。　　Who　feels　for　me　any　esteem；any　tenderness？　　Who　will　shed　a　tear　over　the　nameless　grave　which　will　soon　shelter　from　cruelty　and　scorn　the　broken　heart　of　the　poor　Athenian　girl？　　But　you；　who　alone　have　addressed　her　in　her　degradation　with　a　voice　of　kindness　and　respect；　farewell。　Sometimes　think　of　me；not　with　sorrow；no；　I　could　bear　your　ingratitude；　but　not　your　distress。　　Yet；　if　it　will　not　pain　you　too　much；　in　distant　days；　when　your　lofty　hopes　and　destinies　are　accomplished；on　the　evening　of　some　mighty　victory；　in　the　chariot　of　some　magnificent　triumph；think　on　one　who　loved　you　with　that　exceeding　love　which　only　the　miserable　can　feel。　　Think　that；　wherever　her　exhausted　frame　may　have　sunk　beneath　the　sensibilities　of　a　tortured　spirit；in　whatever　hovel　or　whatever　vault　she　may　have　closed　her　eyes；whatever　strange　scenes　of　horror　and　pollution　may　have　surrounded　her　dying　bed；　your　shape　was　the　last　that　swam　before　her　sight　your　voice　the　last　sound　that　was　ringing　in　her　ears。　　Yet　turn　your　face　to　me；　Caesar。　　Let　me　carry　away　one　last　look　of　those　features；　and　then　〃He　turned　round。　　He　looked　at　her。　He　hid　his　face　on　her　bosom；　and　burst　into　tears。　　With　sobs　long　and　loud；　and　convulsive　as　those　of　a　terrified　child；　he　poured　forth　on　her　bosom　the　tribute　of　impetuous　and　uncontrollable　emotion。　　He　raised　his　head；　but　he　in　vain　struggled　to　restore　composure　to　the　brow　which　had　confronted　the　frown　of　Sylla；　and　the　lips　which　had　rivalled　the　eloquence　of　Cicero。　　He　several　times　attempted　to　speak；　but　in　vain；　and　his　voice　still　faltered　with　tenderness；　when；　after　a　pause　of　several　minutes；　he　thus　addressed　her：
  〃My　own　dear　Zoe；　your　love　has　been　bestowed　on　one　who；　if　he　cannot　merit；　can　at　least　appreciate　and　adore　you。　　Beings　of　similar　loveliness；　and　similar　devotedness　of　affection；　mingled；　in　all　my　boyish　dreams　of　greatness；　with　visions　of　curule　chairs　and　ivory　cars；　marshalled　legions　and　laurelled　fasces。　　Such　I　have　endeavoured　to　find　in　the　world；　and；　in　their　stead；　I　have　met　with　selfishness；　with　vanity；　with　frivolity；　with　falsehood。　　The　life　which　you　have　preserved　is　a　boon　less　valuable　than　the　affection　〃
  〃Oh！　Caesar；〃　interrupted　the　blushing　Zoe；　〃think　only　on　your　own　security　at　present。　　If　you　feel　as　you　speak；but　you　are　only　mocking　me；or　perhaps　your　compassion　〃
  〃By　Heaven！by　every　oath　that　is　binding　〃
  〃Alas！　alas！　Caesar；　were　not　all　the　same　oaths　sworn　yesterday　to　Valeria？　　But　I　will　trust　you；　at　least　so　far　as　to　partake　your　present　dangers。　　Flight　may　he　necessary：form　your　plans。　Be　they　what　they　may；　there　is　one　who；　in　exile；　in　poverty；　in　peril；　asks　only　to　wander；　to　beg；　to　die　with　you。〃
  〃My　Zoe；　I　do　not　anticipate　any　such　necessity。　　To　renounce　the　conspiracy　without　renouncing　the　principles　on　which　it　was　originally　undertaken；to　elude　the　vengeance　of　the　Senate　without　losing　the　confidence　of　the　people；is；　indeed；　an　arduous；　but　not　an　impossible；　task。　　I　owe　it　to　myself　and　to　my　country　to　make　the　attempt。　　There　is　still　ample　time　for　consideration。　　At　present　I　am　too　happy　in　love　to　think　of　ambition　or　danger。〃
  They　had　reached　the　door　of　a　stately　palace。　　Caesar　struck　it。　It　was　instantly　opened　by　a　slave。　　Zoe　found　herself　in　a　magnificent　hall；　surrounded　by　pillars　of　green　marble；　between　which　were　ranged　the　statues　of　the　long　line　of　Julian　nobles。
  〃Call　Endymion；〃　said　Caesar。
  The　confidential　freed…man　made　his　appearance；　not　without　a　slight　smile；　which　his　patron's　good　nature　emboldened　him　to　hazard；　at　perceiving　the　beautiful　Athenian。
  〃Arm　my　slaves；　Endymion；　there　are　reasons　for　precaution。　　Let　them　relieve　each　other　on　guard　during　the　night。　　Zoe；　my　love；　my　preserver；　why　are　your　cheeks　so　pale？　　Let　me　kiss　some　bloom　into　them。　　How　you　tremble！　　Endymion；　a　flask　of　Samian　and　some　fruit。　　Bring　them　to　my　apartments。　　This　way；　my　sweet　Zoe。〃
  。。。
  ON　THE　ROYAL　SOCIETY　OF　LITERATURE。
  （June　1823。）
  This　is　the　age　of　societies。　　There　is　scarcely　one　Englishman　in　ten　who　has　not　belonged　to　some　association　for　distributing　books；　or　for　prosecuting　them；　for　sending　invalids　to　the　hospital；　or　beggars　to　the　treadmill；　for　giving　plate　to　the　rich；　or　blankets　to　the　poor。　　To　be　the　most　absurd　institution　among　so　many　institutions　is　no　small　distinction；　it　seems；　however；　to　belong　indisputably　to　the　Royal　Society　of　Literature。　　At　the　first　establishment　of　that　ridiculous　academy；　every　sensible　man　predicted　that；　in　spite　of　regal　patronage　and　episcopal　management；　it　would　do　nothing；　or　do　harm。　　And　it　will　scarcely　be　denied　that　those　expectations　have　hitherto　been　fulfilled。
  I　do　not　attack　the　founders　of　the　association。　　Their　characters　are　respectable；　their　motives；　I　am　willing　to　believe；　were　laudable。　　But　I　feel；　and　it　is　the　duty　of　every　literary　man　to　feel；　a　strong　jealousy　of　their　proceedings。　Their　society　can　be　innocent　only　while　it　continues　to　be　despicable。　　Should　they　ever　possess　the　power　to　encourage　merit；　they　must　also　possess　the　power　to　depress　it。　　Which　power　will　be　more　frequently　exercised；　let　every　one　who　has　studied　literary　history；　let　every　one　who　has　studied　human　nature；　declare。
  Envy　and　faction　insinuate　themselves　into　all　communities。　　They　often　disturb　the　peace；　and　pervert　the　decisions；　of　benevolent　and　scientific　associations。　　But　it　is　in　literary　academies　that　they　exert　the　most　extensive　and　pernicious　influence。　　In　the　first　place；　the　principles　of　literary　criticism；　though　equally　fixed　with　those　on　which　the　chemist　and　the　surgeon　proceed；　are　by　no　means　equally　recognised。　　Men　are　rarely　able　to　assign　a　reason　for　their　approbation　or　dislike　on　questions　of　taste；　and　therefore　they　willingly　submit　to　any　guide　who　boldly　asserts　his　claim　to　superior　discernment。　　It　is　more　difficult　to　ascertain　and　establish　the　merits　of　a　poem　than　the　powers　of　a　machine　or　the　benefits　of　a　new　remedy。　　Hence　it　is　in　literature；　that　quackery　is　most　easily　puffed；　and　excellence　most　easily　decried。
  In　some　degree　this　argument　applies　to　academies　of　the　fine　arts；　and　it　is　fully　confirmed　by　all　that　I　have　ever　heard　of　that　institution　which　annually　disfigures　the　walls　of　Somerset　House　with　an　acre　of　spoiled　canvas。　　But　a　literary　tribunal　is　incomparably　more　dangerous。　　Other　societies；　at　least；　have　no　tendency　to　call　forth　any　opinions　on　those　subjects　which　most　agitate　and　inflame　the　minds　of　men。　　The　sceptic　and　the　zealot；　the　revolutionist　and　the　placeman；　meet　on　common　ground　in　a　gallery　of　paintings　or　a　laboratory　of　science。　　They　can　praise　or　censure　without　reference　to　the　differences　which　exist　between　them。　　In　a　literar