A spoon, a pan, and a rude kettle for cooking the frugal meal, occupy but little room, and are easily transported from place to place. Chairs and tables are articles of luxury not often found in their humble dwellings. The use of knives and forks does not belong to their politeness, or supersede the purpose of the fingers and teeth; and these simple children of nature, in whom want appears to be productive of happiness, and vicissitude merriness of heart, sleep sweetly upon the naked bosom of their mother earth. To these must be added the few implements with which the gipsy pursues his particular craft: the bungling apparatus of the gold-washer; the miniature anvil and bellows of the smith; and the rude musical instruments of the wandering minstrel. The pipe is, however, the principal household god, as their love of tobacco is exceeded only by their love of alcohol and idleness.

The gipsy pipe is made of wood, short, for the more complete enjoyment, and is passed from mouth to mouth, like the

valued according to its age and strength, and is ultimately broken up and eaten as the greatest of delicacies. The gipsies also consume their own smoke, without the compulsion of municipal regulations.

Bread is not often baked among them, since that which is stolen, or begged, is considered superior to the home manufacture. The gipsy wife has a love of oriental ease; she winds her rags around her after the manner of the Orientals; when she bakes bread it is done upon expiring embers, as in the remote East; and, although it be her only article of furniture, she retains the eastern custom of preserving a single cup, which is not unfrequently of silver. This descends from family to family, and when not in use is generally buried for greater security. I have also frequently seen gold ducats dangling upon the naked breasts of these halfclothed barbarians.

The gipsies have their music, their songs, and dances. The wandering minstrels, for they are known as such, possess

desired the person to tell the magistrate "that unless his head was shaven he could neither appear before God nor man." This extraordinary expression almost warrants the opinion that the culprit imagined he would appear in his mortal frame before the great Judge of the universe, and that the Almighty himself was a being composed of flesh and blood like an earthly judge. A short time before he was led to the gallows he was observed to be very pensive and thoughtful. All at once he started up and exclaimed in a mournful tone of voice, "O! can any one of ye read, sirs; will some of ye read a psalm to me?" at the same time regreting much that he had lived without instruction. The fifty-first psalm was accordingly read to him by a gentleman present, and somewhat soothed his feelings. He was greatly agitated when ascending the platform, his limbs trembling with terror; but just before being cast off the inveterate gipsy feelings returned. In the sight of the spectators he kicked from his feet both his shoes. It was understood by all present that the object of this strange proceeding was to set at naught some prophecy that he would die with his shoes on.

Many of the Hungarian gipsies have been raised to a state of semi-civilization, no longer pursuing the nomadic life of their ancestors.

But yet there is always something to betray the gipsy nature. First, there is the copper color of the countenance, which the greatest care at the toilet cannot remove; and then if you enter his dwelling you soon see further evidence of his origin. He sits himself, most likely, with his feet stuck out of the window, fiddling. His finest clothes are thrown in a heap with his old ones, all lying together on the floor, or on the bed, covered with feathers. The candle is stuck into a champagne bottle, his pocket-book with cigars is lying in the spit-box, and in everything within there are marks of the same Russio-elegant indolence which the gipsy never shakes off.

Exposed to the salutary influences of the earth and air, the gipsies, though the creatures of so many vicissitudes, enjoy much more health than is usual with people who are civilized. Plague and pestilence appear to sweep by them in search of other victims. They are exceedingly wellVOL. XIII.-24

formed, and the enormous adipose developments, the distorted limbs and worthless members which pertain to the dwellings of civilization, are rarely seen in the tents of the gipsies. There are no dwarfs among them and no giants. Their bodies are supple, combining strength with activity. As among barbarians everywhere, a smaller proportion of their children reach the age of adults than in civilized society; but such of them as survive the terrible ordeal of childhood acquire thereby a hardiness of constitution upon which the elements appear to have no material influence. When a naked gipsy boy complained that he was hungry and freezing, his mother told him to tie a string around his body and go out and steal something to eat. Such are the gipsies.

CHRISTIANITY IN THE THIRD CENTURY.

FABIOLA STRUGGLING.

N the midst of all these questionings,

In the mies turned from wie nings.

tient pride, and again sought with irresistible desire, Fabiola was summoned to an interview with the young Tribune whose superiority had so attracted her, and excited an admiration not easily awakened in her aspiring mind. He called to inform her of a plot among her slaves, which might affect her safety, and, true to his Christian principles, turned the conversation to death and its necessary preparation. After a lengthened discussion, he remarked: "Let it come in any form, it comes from a hand I love."

"And do you really mean that death, so contemplated, would be welcome to you?" asked Fabiola.

"As joyful as is the epicure when the doors of the banqueting-hall are thrown wide open, as blythe as is the bride when the bridegroom is announced coming with rich gifts to conduct her to her new home, will my exulting heart be when death, under any form, throws back the gates, iron on this side but golden on the other, which lead to a new and perennial life. And I care not how grim the messenger may be that proclaims the approach of Him who is celestially beautiful."

"And who is He?" asked Fabiola, breathlessly. "Can he not be seen save through the fleshless orbs of death?"

"No," replied the Tribune; " for it is He who must reward us, not only for our lives, but for our death also. Happy they whose inmost hearts, which he ever reads, have been kept pure and innocent, as well as their deeds have been virtuous. For them is this bright vision of Him whose true rewards only then begin."

How very like Lyra's doctrines she thought; but before she could speak again to ask whence they came a slave entered, stood on the threshold, and respectfully said: "A courier, madam, has just arrived from Baja."

"Pardon me," she exclaimed to her visitor. "Let him enter immediately."

The messenger came in, covered with dust and jaded, having left his tired horse at the gate, and offered her a sealed packet. Her hand trembled as she took it; and while she was unloosing its bands, she hesitatingly asked: "From my father?" "About him, at least," was the ominous reply. She opened the sheet, glanced over it, shrieked, and fell. One glance

had told her all her father was dead.

A HEATHEN'S SORROW.

Her father's death not only grieved her heart, but deepened the struggles of her wounded mind. Unconsciousness was succeeded by violent paroxysms of grief; and while the attendant who had authority administered all known remedies for the body, her Christian maid could only pray and hope-hope that a new grace was folded up, like a flower, in this tribulation; that a bright angel was riding on the dark cloud that overshadowed her humbled lady. As grief receded it left some room for thought; this came to Fabiola in a gloomy, oppressive shape. What was become of her father? whither was he gone? had he melted into unexistence? or had he been crushed into annihilation? had his life been searched through by that unseen eye which sees the invisible? had he stood the proof of that scrutiny which Lyra and the young Tribune had described? Impossible! Then what had become of him?

She shuddered at the thought, and put it from her. O for a ray of light that would dart into the grave and show her what it was! Science, philosophy, poetry could not. Glorious light was shining in Lyra's mind, and prayer and faith were strong within her; but in this hour of grief but little could be spoken, for no

Christian could hope in that heathen death, and it seemed cruel in the hour of bitter bereavement to deepen the daughter's anguish by depicting her father's certain doom in the clear light of Christian truth.

LIGHT INCREASING.

The edict was promulged which consigned every faithful Christian to prison and to violent death. Old age, mature manhood, young, buoyant life, yea, even childhood, contributed their willing offering to the dungeon, the rack, the fire, and the amphitheater. Fabiola heard and wondered. The evidence grew clearer, and approached nearer. Her dear young cousin and the noble Tribune stood forth among the persecuted host; and her last interviews with these faithful martyrs, their firm trust, their joyful hopes, their earnest entreaties that she would examine the ground of their confidence, and yield fully to her convictions, irrespective of the consequences, destroyed all prejudice, and prepared her for the full reception of Christian truth, for she was not yet a Christian. She had never heard of a God one in Trinity; she had never been told of the marvelous history of the Redemption by God's sufferings and death; she had not heard of Nazareth, or Bethlehem, or Calvary. She returned home, exhausted by the scenes of suffering she had witnessed, and retired to her apartment, no longer, perhaps, even a philosopher, yet not a Christian. She desired all her servants to keep away from the court she occupied, that she might not be disturbed by the smallest noise. There she sat in loneliness and silence for several hours. The past, in its connections, rose plainly before her, and she exclaimed: "How strange that every one whom I have known, endowed with superior excellence—men like the Tribune, women like Agnes, should turn out to have belonged to the scorned race of Christians! One only remains, and to-morrow I will interrogate her.

While thus alone and desolate she was disturbed by the entrance of a stranger, introduced under the ominous title of a “messenger from the emperor." The porter had at first denied admittance; but upon his being assured that he bore an important embassy from the sovereign, he was obliged to inquire from the steward what to do, when he was informed that no one with such a claim could be denied entrance. Fabiola