cannot do it," said Vivia. -"Are you, then, a Christian?" inquired Hilarian. — “I am," was her firm reply.

7. As her father heard the words which doomed her, he attempted to draw her off from the platform on which she stood. Hilarian commanded that he should be beaten away. The wretched old man received a blow with a stick, whilst the judge condemned Vivia and other Christians to be exposed to wild beasts in the amphitheatre. Vivia's infant was taken away from her, and she was led back to prison.

EI

8. On the 7th of March, 202, Vivia left the prison for the amphitheatre. She was accompanied by a female slave, named Felic'itas, who was also a Christian, and was to suffer with her. When they reached the gate of the amphitheatre, the guard tried to make them put on certain idolatrous badges or robes; but Vivia refused, and said that they had come relying on the promise that they should not be forced to do anything contrary to their faith. They were suffered to pass on without them.

9. They entered the amphitheatre. Vivia sang, like one who had already conquered. Another Christian, as they passed before the balcony where Hilarian sat, said to him, "You judge us187 in this world, but God will judge you in the next.". 'Scourge them!" cried some one in the crowd; and, as they passed along, one of the officers applied the lash to each. 10. Vivia and Felicitas were exposed to a wild cow. Vivia was the first attacked. The cow tossed her up; she fell on her back, but soon sat up. Her clothes were torn and disordered; she gathered them around her, then got up, calmly fastened her loosened hair, and, perceiving Felicitas lying on the ground, much hurt, she helped her to rise.

EI

11. They stood up together in the a-re'na, quietly expecting the rest. Was not the spectacle enough to melt a heart of stone? Alas! it did not move the hearts of that cruel, heathen people. Of what is not human nature capable, when unsanctified by the grace of true religion?

12. The wild cow was more merciful than the bigoted heathens. She did not renew her attack. But Vivia and Felicitas were led forth into the centre of the arena, to die there by the hand

of man, within view of all. The two heroic martyrs gave each other the kiss of peace, and meekly resigned themselves to their fate.

13. An unskilful gladiator prolonged the torments of Vivia, by inflicting many slight wounds before the final one. Her hand, more steady than his in that awful moment, had to guide to her own throat the sword that was to close her pure and short mortal existence.

14. What is there in human history more noble than the devotion of these women, preferring to die rather than to do what their sanctified consciences forbăde? Vivia Perpetua and Felicitas are amongst the most illustrious of Christian martyrs. For three centuries their venerable relics were preserved in the great church of Carthage. The shrine is fallen, the relics are lost; but the memory of these two noble women still lives.

Osborne.

XXI.

RECEIVE ALL AS FOR YOUR GOOD.

1. A MERCHANT was once riding home from the fair, with a knapsack full of money behind him. It rained heavily, and the good man was wet through and through. He was discontented in consequence, and complained bitterly that Providence had sent him such bad weather for his journey.

2. His way led him through a thick wood. Here, with horror, he saw a robber, who pointed a gun at him, and pulled the trigger. The merchant would have been killed, without a chance of escape; but, owing to the rain, the powder had become damp, and the gun did not go off. He put the spur to his horse, and quickly escaped the danger.

3. When he was in safety, he thus said to himself: "What a graceless simpleton I was when I abused the bad weather, and did not rather take it patiently as a dispensation of God! Had the

*According to Walker, the e in the second syllable of this word (as well as of conferrer, conferring, &c.) should have its regular short sound, as in terror, herring, &c., and not the short and obtuse sound which we give to the e before r in her, prefer, &c. See paragraph 107, page 44.

sky* been brighter, and the air clear and dry, I should now be lying dead in my blood, and my children would have waited in vain for my return home. The rain, at which I grumbled, has saved both my property and my life. In future, I will not again forget what the proverb says:

'Howe'er concealed from us the kind intent,

The ways of God are all in mercy meant.'"'

XXII. RAIN IN SUMMER.

1. How beautiful is the rain! After the dust and heat, in the broad and fiery street, in the narrow lane, is the rain!

how beautiful

2. How it clatters along the roofs, like the tramp of hoofs! How it gushes and struggles out, from the throat of the overflowing spout!

3. Across the window-pane it pours and pours; and swift and wide, with a muddy tide, like a river down the gutter roars, the rain, the welcome rain!

4. The sick man from his chamber looks at the twisted brooks; he can feel the cool breath of each little pool; his fevered brain grows calm again, and he breathes a blessing on the rain.

5. From the neighboring school come the boys, with more than wonted noise and commotion; and down the wet streets sail their mimic fleets, till the treacherous pool engulfs them in its whirling and turbulent ocean.

6. In the country, on every side, where far and wide, like a leopard's tawny and spotted hide, stretches the plain, to the dry grass and the dryer grain how welcome is the rain!

7. In the furrowed land the toilsome and patient oxen stand; lifting the yoke-encumbered head, with their dilated nostrils spread, they silently inhale the clover-scented gale, and the vapors that arise from the well-watered and smoking soil.

S. Near at hand, from under the sheltering trees, the farmer

*In sky, and kind, there should be, according to Walker, a slight sound of e or y after the k.

sees his pastures, and his fields of grain, as they bend their tops to the numberless beating drops of the incessant rain. He counts it no sin that he sees therein only his own thrift and gain. Longfellow.

1. COME, take up your hats, and away let us haste
To the Butterfly's ball and the Grasshopper's feast;
The trumpeter Gad-fly has summoned the crew,
And the revels are now only waiting for you.

2. On the smooth-shaven grass, by the side of a wood,
Beneath a broad oak, which for ages had stood,
See the children of earth, and the tenants of air,
For an evening's amusement together repair:

3. And there came the Beetle, so blind and so black,
Who carried the Emmet, his friend, on his back;
And there came the Gnat, and the Dragon-fly too,
And all their relations, green, orange and blue.
4. And there came the Moth, in his plumage of down,
And the Hornet, in jacket of yellow and brown,
Who with him the Wasp, his companion, did bring:
But they promised that evening to lay by their sting.
5. And the sly little Dormouse crept out of his hole,
And led to the feast his blind brother, the Mole;
And the snail, with his horns peeping out from his shell,
From a great distance came the length of an ell.

6. A mushroom their table14

-

and on it was laid

A water-dock leaf, which a table-cloth made;

The viands were various, to each of their taste,
And the Bee brought his honey to sweeten the feast.

7. There, close on his haunches, so solemn and wise,
The Frog from a corner looked up to the skies;
And the Squirrel, well pleased such diversion to see,
Sat cracking his nuts overhead in a tree.

8 Then out came a Spider, with fingers so fine,
To show his dexterity on the tight line;
From one branch to another his cobweb he slung,
Then as quick as an arrow he darted along.

9. But just in the middle, O, shocking to tell!

From his rope in an instant poor Harlequin fell;
Yet he touched not the ground, but with talons outspread
Hung suspended in air at the end of a thread.

10 Then the Grasshopper came, with a jerk and a spring;
Very long was his leg, though but short was his wing;
He took but three leaps, and was soon out of sight,
Then chirped his own praises the rest of the night.

11. With steps quite majestic, the Snail did advance,
And promised the gazers a minuet to dance;
But they all laughed so loud, that he pulled in his head,
And went in his own little chamber to bed.

12. Then, as evening gave way to the shadows of night,
Their watchman, the Glow-worm, came out with his light;
Then home let us hasten, while yet we can see,
For no watchman is waiting for you or for me.

ROSCOE.

XXIV.

ST. PHILIP NERI AND THE YOUTH.

ST. PHILIP NERI, as old readings say,

Met a young stranger in Rome's streets, one day;
And, being ever courteously inclined

To give young folks73 a sober turn of mind,

He fell into discourse with him, and thus

The dialogue they held comes down to us:

St. Tell me what brings you, gentle youth, to Rome?

Y. To make myself a scholar, sir, I come.

St. And, when you are one, what do you intend ?

Y. To be a priest, I hope, sir, in the end.

St. Suppose it so, what have you next in view?