"Alban," said the governor, "I could have excused your perilling your life to save that of a comrade; but how could you expose yourself for the sake of a Christian?" "I, too, am a Christian!" replied the undaunted saint. "Oh! do not listen to him," exclaimed many voices: "he cannot mean it. The noble, the generous Alban, cannot have joined the proscribed, the despised sect of the Christians!" "I will be merciful," answered the governor; "burn but a few grains of this incense upon this altar, and you are free." "I cannot burn incense upon your altars," replied Alban, "for your gods are no gods. The God I serve is the Maker of all things; he is God alone. I am his, for he created me; I am his evermore, for he sent his Son to die to redeem me; and shall I refuse to die for him who died for me? Think not, my friends, that life is not dear to me; think not that a Christian does not love life. I love this beautiful world more than ever since I became a Christian, because it is the workmanship of my heavenly Father; but I know that when I leave it, He will conduct me to one yet fairer." MUCH has been said and written upon diet, eating and drinking, but I do not recollect ever noticing a remark in any writer upon breathing, or the manner of breathing. Multitudes, and especially ladies in easy circumstances, contract a vicious and destructive mode of breathing They suppress their breathing and contract the habit of short quick breathing, not carrying the breath half way down the chest, and scarcely expanding the lower portions of the chest at all. Lacing the bottom of the chest also greatly increases this evil, and confirms a bad habit of breathing. Children that move about a great deal in the open air, and in no way laced, breathe deep and full in the bottom of the chest, and every part of it. So also with most out-door labourers, and persons who take a great deal of exercise in the open air, because the lungs give us the power of action, and the more exerWhen the governor saw that he would cise we take, especially out of doors, the neither deny his faith, nor discover the larger the lungs become, and the less retreat of Amphibalus, he gave orders for liable to disease. In all occupations that his immediate execution. It was a lovely require standing, keep the person straight. summer evening; the setting sun was If at table, let it be high, raised up nearly shedding his parting beams over the sur- to the armpits, so as not to require you to rounding country as they led the holy stoop; you will find the employment martyr without the walls of the city. He much easier-not one half so fatiguing; knelt down, and commending his soul to whilst the form of the chest and symJesus, laid his head upon the block. metry of the figure will remain perfect You have noticed that a vast many tall ladies stoop, while a great many short ones are straight. This arises, I think, from the table at which they sit or work, or occupy themselves, or study, being of a medium height-for a short one. This should be carefully corrected and regarded, so that each lady may occupy herself at the table to suit her, and thus prevent the possibility or necessity of stooping. It will be as well not to remain too long in a sitting position, but to rise occasionally, and thus relieve the body from its bending position. The arms could be moved about from time to time. The signal was given for the executioner to strike. His arm trembled as he raised the sword, and fell powerless at his side. Again was the signal repeated, but instead of striking, the soldier fell on his knees beside Alban, exclaiming: "Holy man, I will die with thee. I, too, am a Christian !" "Oh!" exclaimed the governor, 66 we have done wrong in allowing the Christian to speak," and beckoning to another soldier to come forward, he ordered him to kill both; and the sword, yet wet with the blood of St. Alban, was dipped in that of the new convert. BABES OF HEAVEN. BY MRS. DENISON. THERE are some infants who seem destined for heaven from their birth. Over these the mother may smile, and weep, and watch the fragile beauty of cheek and brow in vain. Old and learned doctors may stand beside their little couches, and count the quick-beating pulse; they cannot stay the steady footsteps of death-they cannot wave him back, that angel-warden of heaven. Something is written in the blue eyes, the gentle smile, that mortals may never interpret; for them the tiny headstones stand in niches, fresh from the graver's hands. For them the little marble urns are already sculptured, and sweet spots in burial-grounds lie waiting. Hug it ever so closely to the fond bosom, the favoured immortal is ever in the hands of the angels, and they will claim it. I I have known a few such children. remember, as I write, a sweet sister, who came when the bird pipes his first May song. For fifteen bright months she was spared to earth, but all who saw her gave ominous shakes of the head, and some said, even with tears, "She will die." Of all infant singers, none heard I ever sing like her. From morning till night from her twelfth month, her sweet, clear voice rang through the house. And she was neither taught this, nor paraded for her gift; but a friend coming in would be sure to hear "Old Hundred" from the singing lips of a babe, who might be clinging to the chairs in her first happy essay to walk. "China," and many of the ancient melodies, were as household words to that little creature; and every day at twilight, till nearly the day she died, she would sing herself to sleep, lisping those old words, "Life is the time to serve the Lord." Precious angel! her life was holy service. How happy she has been these long years up there singing! I had another little sister, who died at the same age. I remember a still, beautiful night, when I sat watching that sweet face, the pale hands, the labouring chest; her mother, wearied out, had fallen into a light slumber. Suddenly, in that dying hour, the oid tune of "Sweet Home" rang out, clear, sweet, distinct. How can I describe the feeling that thrilled through all my veins, when looking at the little lips, pale and trembling, I saw them moving to the cadence of that cherished melody? There laid a babe, scarcely more than a year old, disease upon her, her temples whitening in death, singing a triumphal strain with a failing breath. No language can tell how indescribably beautiful, yet how awful was the scene. She sang it through to the last note, and her fragile form sank backward. In the morning they were laying, lightly and tenderly, on her limbs the burial shroud. I heard lately a little story, which for pathos could not be excelled. A beautiful infant had been taught to say (and it could say little else), "God will take care of baby." It was seized with sickness, and at a time when both parents were hardly convalescent from a dangerous illness. Every day it grew worse, and at last was given up-to die. Almost agonized, the mother prayed to be carried into the room of her darling, to give it one last embrace. Both parents succeeded in gaining the apartment,-but just as it was thought the babe had breathed its last. The mother wept aloud; and once more the little creature opened its eyes, looked lovingly up in her face, smiled, and moved its little lips. They bent closer down"God will take care of baby." Sweet, consoling words! they had hardly ceased, when the angel-spirit was in heaven! THE TRUE STRUGGLE.. Oh ye gifted ones, follow your calling, for, however various your talents may be, ye can have but one calling capable of leading ye to eminence and renown. Follow resolutely the one straight path before you; it is that of your good angel. Let neither obstacles nor temptation induce you to leave it. Bound along, if you can; if not, on hands and knees follow it; perish in it, if needful. But ye need not fear that. No one ever yet died in the true path of his calling before he had attained the pinnacle. Turn into other paths, and, for a momentary advantage or gratification, ye have sold your inheritance, your immortality. Ye will never be heard of after death. ORIGINS AND INVENTIONS. STOVES. - Stoves with pipes or flues, were invented according to Mr. White, in 1680, by one Delasime, and were wholly unknown to the Greeks, Romans, and all other nations of antiquity, whose stoves were but open pans, in which fires were made mostly of charcoal and charred wood. Stoves were first made of bricks, somewhat similar to an oven; sometimes they were also made of earthen, and were not often, if at all, made of iron, until near the commencement of the present century. RHYMING CALENDAR. We have all frequently repeated the lines, "Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November," &c. without inquiring into their origin. They "Junius, Aprilis, Septemq, Novemq, tricenos, "Thirty days hath November, April June, and September, But in the leape year must adde one." I. they would sometimes stab him with a not drink in company unless some one dagger or a knife; hereupon people would present would be their pledge or surety, that they should receive no hurt whilst they were in their draught; hence that usual phrase, I'll pledge you, or be a pledge for you." Others affirm the true sense of the word was, that if the party drank to, were not disposed to drink himself, he would put another for a pledge to do it for him, else the party who began would take it ill. THE MARINER'S COMPASS.-Prior to the invention of the Mariner's Compass, it was impossible to navigate the ocean with safety, or even at all, except along its coasts; and hence navigation and transportation by water was pretty much confined to the Mediterranean, Black, and Red Seas, and the coasts of the Atlantic and Indian Oceans. This invention is claimed by the Neapolitans to have been made by one of their citizens about the year 1302; while the Venetians state that they introduced it from China about the year 1260. This valuable invention extended, and changed the character of navigation, led to the discovery of the New World, by Columbus in 1492; and stimubroadest field of commercial enterprise lated man, by opening to his view, the which he had ever witnessed. SAWING-MILLS.-When the first mill was erected for sawing lumber by mechanical power is not known; it is certain, however, that saw-mills were not in use PLOUGHS.-The ploughs in use among among the Greeks, Romans, Egyptians, the Egyptians, Hebrews, Greeks, and or any of the ancient nations. The first Romans, were of various shapes and rude saw-mill, of which we have any record, was form, some of them having a little iron erected on the Island of Maderia in 1420; share, and a piece of wood very ill-conand the first one in Norway, in 1530. Saw-structed, intended as a mould-board to mills were not introduced into England turn over the ground; but the majority of until the seventeenth century, and for a ploughs had nothing of the kind. In more long time occasioned alarm, commotion, modern times, some ploughs were made and excitement among the sawyers, for with wheels, and the mould-board was fear they might be thrown out of employ- improved in shape, and became better ment. The first one was erected in Lon-adapted to use; but the plough was still a don in 1633, but it was demolished soon afterwards, for fear it might be the means of depriving the poor of employment, and the means of subsistence. PLEDGING HEALTHS.-The origin of the very common expression, to pledge one drinking, is curious: it is thus related by a very celebrated antiquarian of the fifteenth century:-"When the Danes bore sway in this land, if a native did drink, large, ill-shapen, rough wooden instrument, until after the invention of iron mould-boards, and iron landsides fitted to shares, constituting all that part of a plough which runs in the ground. The first iron plough was made of wrought iron in Scotland, towards the close of the last century. Cast-iron ploughs were invented soon afterwards, and were introduced into general use in Great Britain. THE LOST CHURCH. FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND. When one into the forest goes, A music sweet the spirit blesses; But whence it cometh no one knows, Nor common rumour even guesses. From the lost Church those strains must swell, That path with pilgrims once abounding. As lately, in the forest, where No beaten path could be discover'd, Then in my ears that music sounded! Upon my heart such peace there fell, Those strains with all my thoughts so blended, That how it was, I cannot tell, That I so high that hour ascended. It seem'd a hundred years and more A free, large place stood, brightly beaming. The sky, it was so blue and bland, The golden light all round it flowing. The bell-what music from it roll'd! By some unseen, unearthly power. I stood within the solemn pile Words cannot tell with what amazement, As saints and martyrs seem'd to sinile Down on me from each gorgeous casement. I saw the pictures grow alive, And I beheld a world of glory, Before the altar knelt I low Love and devotion only feeling, The mighty dome in twain was shaken, What majesty I then beheld, My heart with adoration swelling; What music all my senses fill'd, Beyond the organ's power of telling, In words can never be express'd; Yet for that bliss who longs sincerely, O let him to the music list, That in the forest soundeth clearly! ELEGY ON A REDBREAST, which the Author found dead, having its wings stretched out on a heap of snow, in a severe storm. BY ROBERT WILSON. Puir Robin! now thy breath is fled, Nae mair thy notes will charm the ear, For shelter frae the angry shower. When wintry storms are ill to dree, Thou'lt seek my lowly roof nae mair, Wi' crimson breast an' sparklin' ee. Amang the lave the crumbs to share. For thou, sweet Robin, sleeps as soun', Upon a wreath o' frozen snaw, As in a nest o' thissle-down, Fu' cozie in some auld gray wa'. LIFE. The child, beside its mother's knee, In a secluded vale he dwells, Where golden sands and smooth-lipp'd shells Unconscious that the whirlwinds sweep With never-ending strife. He sees, perchance, Some bark upon the shore, The waters o'er. The broken spars, the rifted deck, But, in the sunshine on the sea, Such thoughts depart. The sturdy oak is growing near, Stream from the mast, O mother, who hath known In all, the watches of the night How thinks thy son of thee, Who, smiling, stood upon the strand, And sent him, helpless, from the land What wonder, when a time Of looking out is past, Some sad memorial of his fate And that he, Gone down at sea, Is lost to earth and all its memory! GUESSES AT TRUTH. THE praises of others may be of use, in teaching us, not what we are, but what we ought to be. TRUE goodness is like the glow-worm in this, that it shines most when no eyes, except those of heaven, are upon it. THE mind is like a sheet of white paper in this, that the impressions it receives the oftenest, and retains the longest, are black ones. MOST men work for the present, a few for the future. The wise work for both ;-for the future in the present, and for the present in the future. THE progress of knowledge is slow. Like the sun, we cannot see it moving; but after a while we perceive that it has moved, nay, that it has moved onward. ONE of the saddest things about human nature is, that a man may guide others in the path of life, without walking in it himself; that he may be a pilot, and yet a castaway. WOULD you touch a nettle without being stung by it? take hold of it stoutly. Do the same to other annoyances; and few things will ever annoy you. THE French rivers partake of the national character. Many of them look broad, grand, and imposing; but they have no depth And the greatest river in the country, the Rhone, loses half its usefulness from the impetuosity of its current. THE foundation of domestic happiness is faith in the virtuous qualities of woman. The foundation of political happiness is faith in the integrity of man. The foundation of all happiness, temporal and eternal, is faith in the goodness, the righteousness, the mercy, and the love of God. THE tasks set to children should be moderate. Over-exertion is hurtful, both physically and intellectually, and even morally. But it is of the utmost importance that they should be made to fulfil all their tasks correctly and punctually. This will train them for an exact, conscientious discharge of their duties in after life. WE never know the true value of friends. While they live we are too sensitive of their faults; when we have lost them, we only see their virtues. So, however, ought it to be. When the perishable shrine has crumbled away, what can we see, except that which alone is imperishable? IN a controversy, both parties will commonly go too far. Would you have your adversary give up his errors?-be beforehand with him, and give up yours. He will resist your arguments more sturdily than your example. Indeed, if he is generous, you may fear his overrunning on the other side; for nothing provokes retaliation more than concession does. SACRED QUOTATIONS. CHARITY. The consciousness of wrong, in wills not evil, Give credit to thy mortal brother's heart Though the ungrateful subjects of their favours What though to poverty's imploring voice Send thy good before thee, man, OLD ENGLISH RHYME. Were we as rich in charity of deed We give our alms and cry, "What can we more?" In crime, the counsels of our virtue!-share With a look of sad content, Not soon provoked, she easily forgives; PRIOR. |