tion so commemorated actually took place. In Sicily, a very few years ago, the ascension of the Virgin was acted by a young female, with an image of the child Jesus in her arms; she was placed in the midst of an extraordinary machine, fifty feet in height, which was drawn about the principal streets by the monks. The beautiful picture of the Assumption, by Murillo, must be familiar to most people. I have seen, at one time, in the Louvre, half a dozen artists engaged in transferring it to their own canvas.

On the 23rd the sun enters the zodiacal sign, Virgo, "the Virgin." "Spenser," says Leigh Hunt (referring to the lines which head these Memoranda), "takes advantage of the sign of the Zodiac, the Virgin, to convert her into Astrea, the goddess of Justice, who seems to return to earth awhile, when the exuberance of the season presents enough for all."

The 24th of August is indeed a memorable day; it has been called, alluding to different periods of its history, " Red Bartholomew," and "Black Bartholomew," to which I venture to add a " \\l\ite Bartholomew," of very recent date.

First of all, in reference to the Saint himself, whose memory is

thus reverenced by the Romish and Anglican calendars, Scripture gives no account of his birth, death, or labours; but he is the same as Nathaniel, whom our Blessed Lord Himself declared to be " an Israelite without guile." "Philip findeth Nathaniel, and saith unto him, We have found him of whom Moses in the law and the prophets did write, Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of Joseph." ((John i. 45 )

So Nathaniel, or Bartholomew, became one of Christ's disciples. Three years afterwards, we find him again with the disciples on the shore of the lake of Tiberias, when Jesus for the third time showed Himself to His followers after His resurrection. ( John xxi. 2—14.) Once more we hear of Barthnlometc in the "upper room" with his brethren, after he and they had witnessed the ascension of their risen Lord from "the Mount called Olivet," and then Holy Writ keeps silence respecting Him. We know, however, from dependable sources, that he laboured for eighteen years as a minister and missionary of the Word, and then sealed his toils with his martyrdom. He is commonly believed to have been flayed alive in India, Where he preached the Gospel, by order of Astyages, brother to Palemon, king of Armenia.

"In faith he works : but nevermore
May he behold his native shore;
Oh! never, never, will he lie
With his loved fig-tree waving by.
He shares his Master's shameful death,
In agony he yields his breath;
His soul upheld, his sins forgiven,
He flies from torturing pain to heaven."

But now to the stirring annals of the day. First and foremost, the terrible, thrilling memories of the "Bed Bartholomew!" Aye! red indeed! crimson with the blood of women and children, and helpless and infirm victims. Then was accomplished those words of holy prophecy—though, doubtless, not then to the full:—" And I saw the woman drunken with the blood of the saints, and with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus!"

It was on the night of the 24th of August, 1574, that under the

direction of the wicked, but superstitiously bigoted Queen-mother, Catherine de Medici, whose name must ever be coupled with infamy and horror,—the signal for the mas saci-e of the Huguenots*, or French Protestants, was sounded from the belfry of St. Germain L'Auxerrois; and reports of musketry, the shouts of the populace, and the cries of terror in every quarter of the brilliant city, announced the commencement of the work of death. Paris was thronged with Huguenots, drawn thither by the specious artifices of Catherine, who had just then married her daughter Margaret to Henry of Navarre, the head of the Protestant party of France; and afterwards Henry IV.. and the Great, of France. This piece of subtle policy brought many an unwary victim into the net laid for him, and 30,000 Protestants, or as some assert, a far larger number, perished in the "Massacre of St. Bartholomew," as it came afterwards to be called. Among the victims many illustrious names occur, one of them being that of the well-known Admiral Coligny! The Massacre spread from the capital to the provinces, and the unfortunate Protestants were everywhere hunted down and killed like noxious animals. Europe was stricken with terror, and inexpressible indignation ; for this too-successful movement seemed like the inauguration of a crusade against the professors of the reformed religion. Only the cruel King of Spain, and the Pope rejoiced in this bloody, treacherous victory: this thrice accursed Bed Bartholomeic. At Borne great rejoicings took place, and the messenger who brought the dreadful news was liberally rew arded; high mass was performed in all its splendour, and the Te Deum was solemnly smig to celebrate the event! But our own Elizabeth, with all her court, received the French ambassador in deepest mourning, and turned shudderingly from his greeting.

When Charles IX., the weak instrument of his sanguinary mother, drew near his end, his agony and remorse were most intolerable. He died of a singular disease, which caused the pores of his skin to exude blood, instead of the ordinary perspiration: he had, so to speak, waded in the, blood of his innocent, hapless subjects, the Huguenots, and he died bathed in a bloody sweat, as if God would visibly declare His retribution of crimes so horrible. His bodily sufferings were intense, but the anguish of his departing spirit was infinitely greater; he had chased away the lovers of the truth, and there was no one in that last hour to speak to him of the Saviour,

whose precious blood can wash away the sins of a whole world. Poor dying king! dreadful, atrocious. lied Bartholomeic!

Ninety years afterwards, in our own fair, free England, came the shameful Black Bartholomeic! On the lflth of May preceding, the fatal act of Uniformity was passed by the Parliament of the restored Charles II., which required of every one who ministered in the Church, that he should declare his unfeigned assent and consent to all and every thing contained and prescribed in and by the book entitled, "The Book of Common Prayer," Sec., &c. And this Act was to come into force on August 24th. 1062, when all whose consciences would not permit them to subscribe, were to be deprived of their benefices, and prohibited from exercising their gifts of ministry. The Sunday before this, St. Bartholomew, the 17th of August, is memorable for the farewell sermons preached in hundreds of churches throughout the land. There were 2.000 men, who for name, or standing, or worldly prosperity, refused to barter their consciences: and these on the last Sabbath of their acknowledged ministrations preached faithfully and lovingly to the people, who never again might be legally gathered together under their pastoral charge.

When on that Sunday evening the preacher gave his benediction, his work as a minister of the Established Church was done; and when the fateful 21th of August came, the doors of many churches were closed, and the voice of praise and prayer was silent. This is no place to chronicle the sufferings and constancy of the ejected 2,000; but their witness is in heaven, and their record is on high. They were faithful unto the death, and now they rest from their labours and their works do follow them: and their memory, solemn, sweet, and hallowed, is with us till this day.

On the 24th of August, 18(i2. was kept the White Bartkolonu*! The descendants of the ejected ministers and their faithful people observed that day in honour of their pious and noble ancestors. The little one had become a thousand! Nonconformity had grown to be a power in the land; and in humble thanksgiving, hundreds of thousands knelt before their God, praising Him for the strength and faithfulness vouchsafed to their tried and suffering fathers two centuries before!

And in the joy and tearful smiles of the White Bartholomew, the sadness of the Black Bartholomew was forgotten, save that Christian people tenderly remembered the victorious heroes of that shameful day; and rendered praise to God. who had prospered them so signally, and for persecution had given them holy triumph, and for bonds and deep affliction, songs of high thanksgiving.

For ever will the 24th of August

be a day of days to Protestants; a day to be remembered in the annals of the Holy Universal Church.

Oysters begin to be in season early in the month of August, as every Londoner must be reminded by the constant demands of urchins, who pray you to " Remember the grotto !'' But though nominally in season', they are not really good till cool weather sets in. Grouse-shooting commences on the 12th, and blackcock shooting on the 21st of August; and all the sportsmen who have time and funds at their command, are off and away to the wild, purpling heatlis of Northern Britain! This is the best time for gathering herbs to dry for winter use; though the next month may not be too late. Choose a fine day, and cut them as they approach full bloom.




Then our little pilgrims looked through another of the glasses, and saw Jesus raising to life a little girl, and all her friends rejoiced greatly. Afterwards they looked at a funeral, and learned that it was the only son of the poor widow, that was being carried to the tomb.

This kind Physician laid His hands on the bier, and raised the young man to life again, and Lowly exclaimed, "He doeth all things well. Surely everybody must have worshipped Him, and loved Him, and given Him the best of all they had." "No! my dear child, not so. This gracious Saviour •was born in the stable of an inn, and he said, 'The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man hath not where to lay His head.' He knew what it was to be hungry, thirsty, and weary, and many that professed to be His friends left Him at the last. Come with me, and look at this view." They then saw through another of the glasses a mount with three crosses at the top. There they beheld that blessed Saviour who


had spent His life in doing good, nailed to tho middle cross, and a thief on each side of Him. Ho had suffered much before that dreadful hour. He was despised and rejected of men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with 'grief.

"But surely," said Earnest, "his disciples are all around Him, trying to soothe Him, and to minister to His wants?"

"No! They all forsook Him and fled. The crowd are insulting Him, and saying,' Ho saved others, Himself He cannot save.'" After the children had gazed at Him with tearful eyes, He cried (not "Father, punish these wicked sinners with thy fiercest anger. Send them to everlasting punishment, which their sins have deserved")—no, He cried," Father, forgive them, they know not what they do," and then meekly bowed His head and died. Then there was sudden darkness and a great earthquake, and even His enemies cried, "Truly this was the Son of God." The three children were much affected with this scene, and wept when they thought of the sufferings of the Lord Jesus. But their friend the Interpreter comforted them, saying, he had yet one more view to show them. When they had dried their tearful eyes, they looked through the glass, and it appeared to be very early in the morning—scarcely light. Several women were walking with anxious countenance towards a tomb cut out in B rock. This tomb was situated in a private garden; the women were wondering who should roll away a large stone that had been placed at the opening. When they arrived at the tomb, they found that the stonehad been removed already,and they went to the sepulchre, and looked in, and saw two angels in white, sitting one at the head and another at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain, and the angels said, "Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not here, but He is risen." Then they ran and told His friends that He was risen from the dead, and they rejoiced greatly. Then their guide told the children that Jesus appeared frequently unto His friends for forty days, after which He ascended into heaven, where He now sitteth at the right hand of God the Father. The little pilgrims looked a long while at this pleasant picture, and then their friend led them from the room into the hall, saying," Have you understood all these things?" They answered, "Yes, sir," and the boys said, "We shall never forget them." But Lowly said, "I hope I never shall, but I shall often wish to see them again." Their host then told the children that in their guide-book they might read the account of everything they had seen through the glasses. Lowly was much delighted, and exclaimed, "Oh! how I shall love that book; it shall be my meditation all the daylong." They then prepared again to set out on their pilgrimage. Their good friend gave them another rich repast, and provided them with things needful for their journey. He then set them in the right way, and took a loving farewell of them, commending them to the protection of the Lord of the Way. For BOne time they walked on in silence, musing on the wonderful things they had seen and heard during their short sojourn at the house of the Interpreter. After a time they camo to the mount where the cross stood. They fell on their knees, and worshipped the Saviour who had died for

them. The sight of the cross and sepulchre brought to their remembrance the views the good Interpreter had shown them, especially that of the crucifixion, and Lowly read in the Book, "Jesus Christ, being in the form of God, thought it no robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation, and humbled Himself and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross." When the children had rested awhile, under the shadow of that blessed cross, they went forward again on their journey. Presently they heard a padding of feet, and a panting noise, and looking on one side of the path, they saw a great fierce dog coming quickly towards them. Poor little Lowly was ready to sink with fear, and Earnest (who was off his guard) was just about to run back, but Fearless said, " Don't run away. I am not afraid of him; let him come on, and he shall soon feel the force of my staff. He will be glad enough to run away, I know." So Earnest and Lowly stood trembling. The dog began barking furiously, but stopped within a short distance, and contented himself with showing his teeth. Fearless went up to him, and gave him a blow with his staff which made him turn back, and run howling down a little lane, the way he came. Fearless followed him down the lane, and was just going to hit him a second time when he stumbled and fell into a ditch. The dog then turned and attacked Fearless, and seeing he had dropped his staff in his fall, began to worry him, when Earnest took a sling and a stone which he carried with him, and aimed so well that the stone struck the head of the dog, and obliged him to run away a second time. But poor Fearless had hurt his foot, and could not move. His friends pitied him, and cried to the Strong for strength, and very soon they saw their kind friend the Physician coming quickly towards them. Then he looked very gravely at Fearless, and said, "What doest thou here P This is not the King's highway. It is the enemy's ground." "Sir," replied Fearless, " I was pursuing an ugly fierce dog that was going to attack us, and when I struck him with my staff, he ran away, and I was chasing him down the lane, when I fell into this ditch, and then he turned again and would have hurt me very

much, if Earnest had not wounded him with a stone from his sling." Then said the Physician," Yon have erred, my son. You did right to fight with him on the highway, but you should never follow your enemies into their paths. While you were in the right way you were enabled to get the victory, but when you went astray, your foot slipped, you lost your staff, and the dog was permitted to worry you." Then seeing Fearless weep, he smiled and said, " Be not cast down." He then raised him up, and applied some healing balm to the wound, and bound np his foot, and set him in the right way again, bidding him lean with all his might npon the staff; and Fearless was more than over grateful for such a support, for his leg was very weak. Then their kind friend kissed them, and spoke comfortably to them for a while, and then took his leave of them.


Our little pilgrims were now drawing near to the Hill Difficulty, and as they looked before them, it appeared very steep and dangerous, so that their hearts almost failed them for fear, and they were wondering among themselves why the Lord of the Way did not permit pilgrims to take an «asier road, when their attention was taken by a railway station a few yards from them. They then perceived that a tunnel had been cut right through the hill. While they were regarding these things, a train arrived at the station, and waited for passengers. "Oh! what an easy way to escape difficulty," said Earnest. "I wonder whether it would be wrong to go one stage on that railway just to escape the hill. We should save time and labour by it." Just then two persons rushed by, and ran with all their might to the station.

"Come," said Earnest, "shall we go?" "I think wo had better not go out of the path," said Fearless. "Do you recollect what the Good Physician said to me—we must not expect help if we go into the enemy's grounds? Then said Lowly, "I quite agree with Fearless, that we had better keep in the straight and narrow path. I remember it is written in our Book, 'There is a way that seemeth right

unto a man, but the end thereof aro the ways of death.' Let us go on in the right way. Our Lord has sent us the difficulties, and Ho will help us to bear them." So they went on, and the whistle sounded long and loud, whilst the train rumbled through the tunnel. They soon came to the spring by the roadside, and they drank again and again of its waters, which strengthened and refreshed them. They ate also some of the provisions given them by the Interpreter, and felt quite strong and cheerful again. They then began their journey up the hill, and Lowly and Earnest helped their friend Fearless, and removed every stumbling-block out of his way. They remembered his weakness, and did not try to ontwalk him. They also read aloud out of their precious Book, and sang sacred songs till the hill became so steep that they were fairly out of breath. Just before they got half-way up, they Baw a gaily-dressed maiden approaching them with a fan, and a cup of cold water in her hands. She beckoned them to an arbour on the left side of the road, saying, "Come in and rest, and refresh yourselves. I have prepared my banquet, and all things are ready." The children were quite oaptivated with her smiling features and silvery voice, and Earnest said, "My heart inclines towards this damsel." Bnt Lowly interrupted him. "Stop, Earnest, let us do nothing rashly." She then said to the maiden," We are poor pilgrims, and have nothing to pay for entertainment: therefore we never stop at any houses but those provided for pilgrims, and the Lord of the Way settles all accounts with their owners." Then "Enticement" (for that was the name of the damsel), said, "Come in, my honest little friends, I love you all the better for your candour. Yon shall stay with me as long as you wish, and depart when you please. I make no charge for the entertainment." She then presented the cup of water to Lowly, and was beginning to fan her, when she stepped aside, and begged her friends not to liBtcn to her. Enticement then offered the cup to Fearless, who was just about to take it and quench his thirst with its contents, when Earnest said, " Oh! Fearless, do not taste it. Have nothing to do with the tempter. The bower is not on the right side of the road, and

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