THE DEATH OF SAINT DENIS.

Saint Denis of France, like his brother Champions, much desired, after

his long wanderings, to see once more the smiling fields of _la belle_

France, and thus he, too, followed by the faithful Le Crapeau, turned

his steps homeward. Time had not failed to leave its hoary marks on

him, and his snowy locks and flowing beard showed full well that the

winter of his life had at length overtaken him.

Still he kept his armour on, though his shrunken form often seemed to

rattle within it; and the chill blasts, as they entered the crevices,

blew round and round him, and made him often wish for his armchair, and

dressing-gown, and slippers, as does many another elderly gentleman, who

would be far wiser if he kept by his own fireside, instead of allowing

himself to be dragged about the world, in search of a very doubtful sort

of advantage or amusement for the younger branches of his family.

Saint Denis had not neglected in his travels to discover many things

which he thought might be with advantage introduced into his native

country. He taught the people how to cultivate the vine, and make

_chausse_ roads, though the latter were never very satisfactory. But

many cunning arts and manufactures also he introduced from the far east,

of which there is not space now to speak. The greatest benefit,

however, he conferred on his countrymen was in instructing them in the

important art of cookery. Fricassees and ragouts were by his means

brought to great perfection, and, more than all, he instructed them how

to dress frogs and snails, of which art they were before his time

totally ignorant. Who could ever imagine that there was a time when

Frenchmen knew nothing of that important part of the culinary art? Till

Saint Denis, the hero of a hundred fights, aided by the faithful Le

Crapeau, caught the frogs and cooked them, and, moreover, eat them, the

ignorant Frenchmen could not believe that they were intended to be used

as food.

But mark the ingratitude of a people--the fickleness of a crowd. The

great Saint Denis, who had fought so long, and upheld the name of France

in so many strange lands, was accused by a recreant knight of heresy and

of high treason, and of endeavouring to introduce bad and mischievous

customs among the people.

Old as he was, although he had long laid aside his armour, the fire of

his youth burned up within him, and he challenged his malignant accuser

to mortal combat.

The Champion and the false knight met; but the latter, by the arts of a

wicked enchanter, had come so prepared by talismans for the fight, that

all the skill and courage of Saint Denis could not overthrow him.

Again and again the aged Champion charged with all the agility and

courage of a young man, and few would have supposed that he who sat

within that iron mask, and wielded that heavy lance, had seen near

eighty winters pass over his hoary head. Once more he charged--his

lance was shivered, and he was borne helpless to the ground.

Then were the evil designs of his fell enemy victorious. He was

condemned to death. No rescue came, and he was led, yet habited in his

armour, to the block. With a courageous look he lay down his head; but

scarcely had the axe of the cruel executioner fallen upon it, than a

fearful tempest burst forth. The headsman, the recreant knight, and all

who had assisted willingly at the execution, were struck to the ground,

becoming black masses of cinder, by a flash of fearful lightning; and

then the people learned and acknowledged that right and justice were on

the Champion's side.

Monuments were built and churches erected to his memory, and he was ever

after reverenced as the Patron Saint of France and of all Frenchmen.

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