In joy's ecstatic mood, what tons
To gladness can beguile,
With fascination of its own,
Like rapture's silent smile?

In anguish, what can more revea.
Than all that meets the ear?
What but the eloquent appeal
Of sorrow's silent tear!

In love, to those who truly know
What smiles and tears can say,
More of the hidden heart they show
Than language can convey.

And in that purer element,

Ethereal and divine,

Which thought and feeling represent
As worship's purest shrine;

Far, far beyond the influence
That rhetoric most reveres,
The spirit's holier eloquence,
Of silent smiles and tears.

The patient sufferer's smile, when born
Of faith, to God is dear;
Nor will his mercy ever scorn
Contrition's voiceless tear!

The Germans of rank and fortune, were formerly remarkable for the custom of having their sons instructed in some mechanical business, by which they might be habituated to a spirit of industry, secured

from the miseries of idleness, and qualified, in case of necessity, to support themselves and their families. A striking proof of the utility of this custom, occurs in the following narrative.

A young German nobleman of great merit and tal ents, paid his addresses to an accomplished young lady of the Palatinate, and applied to her father for his consent to marry her. The old nobleman, amongst other observations, asked him, how he expected to maintain his daughter. The young man, surprised at such a question, observed, that his possessions were known to be ample, and as secure as the honors of his family.

"All this is very true," replied the father; "but you well know, that our country has suffered much from wars and devastation, and that new events of this nature may sweep away all your estate, and render you destitute. To keep you no longer in suspense," continued the father, with great politeness and affection, "I have seriously resolved never to marry my daughter to any person, who, whatever may be his honors or property, does not possess some mechanical art, by which he may be able to support her, in case of unforeseen events."

The young nobleman, deeply affected with his determination, was silent for a few moments; when, recovering himself, he declared, that he believed his happiness so much depended on the proposed union, that no difficulty or submissions, consistent with his honor, should prevent him from endeavoring to accomplish it. He begged to know whether he might be allowed six months to acquire the knowledge of some manual art. The father, pleased with the young man's resolution, and affection for his daughter, consented to the proposal; and pledged his honor that the marriage should take place, if, at the expiration of the time limited, he should succeed in his undertaking.

Animated by the tenderest regard, and by a high sense of the happiness he hoped to enjoy, he went

immediately into Flanders, engaged himself to a white. twig basket-maker, and applied every power of ingenuity and industry, to become skilled in the business. He soon obtained a complete knowledge of the art; and, before the expiration ofthe time proposed, returned, and brought with him, as specimens of his skill, several baskets, adapted to fruit, flowers, and needlework.

These were presented to the young lady; and universally admired for the delicacy and perfection of the workmanship. Nothing now remained to prevent the accomplishment of the noble youth's wishes, and the marriage was solemnized to the satisfaction of all parties.

The young couple lived several years in affluence, and seemed, by their virtues and moderation, to have secured the favors of fortune. But the ravages of war, at length, extended themselves to the Palatinate Both the families were driven from the country, and their estates forfeited. And now opens a most interesting scene.

The young nobleman commenced his trade of basket-making; and, by his superior skill in the art, soon commanded extensive business. For many years, he liberally supported, not only his own family, but also that of the good old nobleman, his father-in-law; and enjoyed the high satisfaction of contributing, by his own industry, to the happiness of connexions doubly endeared to him by their misfortunes, and who otherwise would have sunk into the miseries of neglect and indigence, sharpened by the remembrance of better days.

LESSON THIRTY-EIGHTH.

The Dying Christian.

VITAL spark of heavenly flame,
Quit, O quit this mortal frame:
Trembling, hoping, lingering, flying,

O the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life.

Hark! they whisper; angels say,
"Sister spirit, come away."
What is this absorbs me quite;
Steals my senses, shuts my sight,
Drowns my spirits, draws my breath?
Tell me, my soul, can this be death?

The world recedes; it disappears!
Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears
With sounds seraphic ring:

Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly!
O Grave! where is thy victory?
O Death! where is thy sting?

Mary possessed few qualities either estimable or amiable. Her person was as little engaging as her manner. And, amidst the complication of vices which entered into her composition, obstinacy, bigotry, violence, cruelty, we scarcely find any virtue but sincerity; unless we add vigor of mind, a quality which seems to have been inherent in her family. During this queen's reign, persecution for religion was carried to the most terrible height. The mild counsels of Cardinal Pole, who was inclined to toleration, were overruled by Gardner and Bonner, and multitudes of all conditions, ages, and sexes, were committed to the flames.

The persecutors began with Rogers, prebendary of St. Paul's, a man equally distinguished by his piety

and learning, but whose domestic situation, it was hoped, would bring him to compliance. He had a wife, whom he tenderly loved, and ten children; yet did he continue firm in his principles. And such was his serenity after condemnation, that the jailers, it is said, awaked him from a sound sleep, when the hour of his execution approached. He suffered at Smithfield.

Hooper, bishop of Gloucester, was condemned at the same time with Rogers, but was sent to his own diocess to be punished, in order to strike the greater terror into his flock. His constancy at his death, however, had a very contrary effect. It was a scene of consolation to Hooper, to die in their sight, bearing testimony to that doctrine which he had formerly taught among them. And he continued to exhort them, till his tongue, swollen by the violence of his agony, denied him utterance.

Ferrar, bishop of St. David's, also suffered this terrible punishment in his own diocess; and Ridley, bishop of London, and Latimer, formerly bishop of Worcester, two prelates, venerable by their years, their learning and their piety, perished together in the same fire at Oxford, supporting each other's constancy by their mutual exhortations. Latimer, when tied to the stake, called to his companion, "Be of good cheer, my brother; we shall this day kindle such a flame in England, as, I trust in God, will never be extinguished."

Sanders, a respectable clergyman, was committed to the flames at Coventry. A pardon was offered hin, if he would recant; but he rejected it with disdain, and embraced the stake, saying, "Welcome, cross of Christ! welcome, everlasting life!"

Cranmer had less courage at first. Terr.ned by the prospect of those tortures which awaited him, or overcome by the fond love of life, and by the flattery of artful men, who pompously represented the digni