equally supported. Metellus had brave men, but a bad situation; Jugurtha had every other advantage but that of soldiers. At last the Romans - considering that no place of refuge was left them, that the enemy avoided every attempt to bring them to a regular engagement, and that night was fast approaching -advanced up the hill, according to orders and made themselves masters of it. The Numidians, having lost this post, were routed and put to flight, but few of them slain: their own swiftness, and the nature of the country with which our men were unacquainted -saving most of them. In the mean time Bemilcar, to whom Jugurtha, as already stated, had given the command of the elephants and part of the infantry, — when he saw that Rutilius had passed him, drew down his men slowly into the plain; where without interruption he ranged them in order of battle, as the exigency required, while the lieutenant was marching in great haste to the river: nor did he neglect to watch the notions and to learn. the designs of the Romans. On receiving intelligence that Rutilius was encamped and appeared to consider himself in a state of security, Bomilcar perceiving that the noise of the battle in which Jugurtha was engaged still increased, and fearing lest the lieutenant should return to reinforce the consul-resolved to obstruct his passage; and extending the front of his line, which before, distrustful of the steadiness of his troops, he had formed close and compact, in this order advanced to the camp of Rutilius. - The Romans on a sudden perceived a vast cloud of dust, which at first they conjectured to be raised by the wind sweeping over an arid and sandy surface; for the country was covered on all sides with copsewood, which obstructed their view of the Numidians: but observing the cloud to move with regularity, and approach nearer and nearer as the Numidians marched forward, they perceived the cause of the phenomenon; and flying to their arms, drew up before the camp according to orders. When the enemy came up, a tremendous shout was raised on both sides, and they rushed with fury to the onset. The Numidians maintained the contest as long as their elephants could be of any service to them: but when they saw them entangled among the branches of the trees and surrounded by the Romans, they betook themselves to flight; and throwing away their arms, escaped, most of them unhurt, — partly by the advantage of the hill, and partly by favor of the night. Four elephants were taken; the rest, forty in number, were all slain. The Romans, however much exhausted by their march, by fortifying their camp, and by the late unexpected encounter, were flushed with success; and as Metellus tarried beyond their expectation, they advanced resolutely in order of battle to meet him for such was the subtlety of the Numidians as to leave no room for inactivity or remissness. When the heads of the two friendly columns approached each other in the darkness of the night, the noise on both sides occasioned mutual apprehensions of an approaching enemy; and this mistake had well-nigh produced the most fatal consequences, had not some horsemen despatched by both parties discovered the true cause of it. Mutual congratulations quickly succeeded to apprehension: the soldiers joyfully called to one another by name, recounting their late exploits, and every one extolling his own gallant behavior; for such is the nature of human affairs, that when victory is obtained, cowards may boast, while defeat casts reproach even on the brave. Metellus continued four days in the same camp: administered relief to the wounded; conferred the usual military rewards on such as had distinguished themselves in the late engagements; commended the whole army, which he assembled with that view; returned them his public thanks; and exhorted them "to act with equal courage in what further remained, which was but little. They had already fought sufficiently for victory: their future labors would be only to enrich themselves by the spoils of conquest." GEORGE SAND. SAND, GEORGE, pseudonym of Armantine Lucile Aurore (Dupin) Dudevant, a French novelist; born in Paris, July 5, 1804; died at Nohant, June 8, 1876. In her thirteenth year she was sent to a convent boarding-school at Paris, where she became very devout and wished to take the veil. She afterwards became an enthusiastic student of Locke, Aristotle, Leibnitz, and Rousseau. At eighteen she married Casimire Dudevant, a retired officer. Husband and wife were unsuited to each other, and in 1831 an amicable separation took place. After many rebuffs she became a contributor to "Figaro." Her first novel, "Rose et Blanche," was written in conjunction with Jules Sandeau. In 1834 she set out for Italy, and for more than a year she remained at Venice. She returned to France in 1835, and the next year obtained a legal separation from her husband. The editor of the "Revue des Deux Mondes" refusing to publish her novel, "Horace," on account of its socialistic tendency, she broke off her connection with that periodical, and in conjunction with Leroux and Viardot established "La Revue Contemporaine," in which appeared "Consuelo" and its sequel "La Comtesse de Rudolstadt." During the FrancoPrussian war, Mme. Dudevant went along the French lines as far as she was permitted to go, taking notes which were afterward embodied in the "Journal d'un Voyageur pendant la Guerre " (1871). Madame Dudevant was the author of about sixty novels, twenty plays, and many minor works. At different times she contributed political articles to various newspapers. During the last years of her life, she wrote several delightful tales for her grandchildren. A volume of these, "Contes d'une Grand' mère," was published after her death. She published nearly a hundred volumes among which the most important are the following: - "Indiana" (1831 ?); "Mauprat" (1836); "Consuelo " (1842); "The Countess of Rudolstadt" (1843); "The Miller of Angibault" (1845); "The Devil's Pool" (1846); "The Little Fadette" (1849); "The Master Ringers" (1853); "Story of My Life" (1854). She also wrote a number of dramatic works. THE CONVENT OF THE ENGLISH AUGUSTINES. (From "The Story of My Life.") THIS Convent was one of the three or four British communities established in Paris during Cromwell's ascendency. It is the only one now in existence, its house having endured the various revolutions without suffering greatly. Its traditions say that Henriette of France, the daughter of our Henry IV. and wife of the unfortunate Charles I. of England, had often come to pray in our chapel with her son James II. All our nuns were English, Scotch or Irish. Two-thirds of the boarding pupils and lodgers, as well as some of the priests who came to officiate, belonged to these nations. During certain hours of the day the whole school was forbidden to speak a word of French, which was the best means for learning English rapidly. Naturally our nuns hardly ever spoke anything else to us. They retained the habits of their country; drank tea three times a day, allowing those among us who were good to take it with them. The cloister and the church were paved with long tombstones, beneath which were the venerated bones of those Catholics of Old England who had died in exile, and been buried by favor in this inviolable sanctuary. There were English epitaphs and pious inscriptions everywhere on tombs and walls. Large old portraits of English princes and prelates hung in the Superior's room and in her private parlor. The beautiful and amorous Mary Stuart, reputed a saint by our chaste nuns, shone there like a star. In short, everything in that house was English, both of the past and of the present; and when within its gates, one seemed to have crossed the Channel. All this was a "nine days' wonder" to me, the Berri peasant. My grandmother on presenting me could not forego the little vanity of saying that I was very well informed for my age, and that it would be a waste of time to put me in a class with young children. The school was divided into two sections: a junior and a senior class. By my age I belonged to the juniors, where there were about thirty boarding pupils between six and fourteen years old. By my reading, and the ideas it had developed, I belonged to a third class that would have had to be created for me and two or three others; but I had not been trained to work methodically, and did not know a word of English. I understood a great deal about history, and even philosophy; but |