brings vividly before the mind, the cruelties to which the early Christians were exposed.-B. C.]

At the same moment, the long peal of trumpets, and the shouts of the people without, gave note of the approach and entrance of the Emperor. In a moment more, with his swift step, he entered the amphitheatre, and strode to the place set apart for him, the whole multitude rising and saluting him with a burst of welcome that might have been heard beyond the walls of Rome. The Em peror acknowledged the salutation by rising from his seat, and lifting the crown from his head. He was instantly seated again, and at a sign from him, the herald made proclamation of the entertainments which were to follow. He who was named as the first to suffer, was Probus.

When I heard his name pronounced, with the punishment which awaited him, my resolution to remain, forsook me, and I turned to rush from the theatre. But my recollection of Probus's earnest entreaties that I would be there, restrained me, and I returned to my seat. I considered, that as I would attend the dying bed of a friend, so I was clearly bound to remain where I was, and wait for the last moments of Probus; and the circumstance that his death was to be shocking and harrowing to the friendly heart, was not enough to absolve me from the heavy obligation. I therefore kept my place, and awaited with patience the event.

I had waited not long, when, from beneath that extremity of the theatre where I was sitting, Probus was led forth, and conducted to the centre of the arena, where was a short pillar to which it was customary to bind the sufferers. Probus, as he entered, seemed rather like one who came to witness what was there, than to be himself the victim, so free was his step, so erect his form. In his face there might, indeed, be seen an expression, that could only dwell on the countenance of one whose spirit was already gone beyond the earth, and holding converse with things unseen. There is always much of this in the serene, uplifted face of this remarkable man; but it was now there written in lines so bold, and deep, that there could have been few in that vast assembly but must have been impressed by it, as never before by aught human. It must have been this, which brought so deep a silence upon that great multitudenot the mere fact that an individual was about to be torn

by lions-that is an almost daily pastime. For it was so, that when he first made his appearance, and as he moved toward the centre, turned and looked round upon the crowded seats rising to the heavens, the people neither moved nor spoke, but kept their eyes fastened upon him, as by some spell which they could not break. When he had reached the pillar, and he who had conducted him was about to bind him to it, it was plain, by what at that distance we could observe, that Probus was intreating him to desist and leave him at liberty; in which he at length succeeded, for that person returned, leaving him alone and unbound. O sight of misery!he who for the humblest there present, would have performed any office of love, by which the least good should redound to them-left alone, and defenceless-they looking on, and scarcely pitying his cruel fate! When now he had stood there not many minutes, one of the doors of the vivaria was suddenly thrown back-and, bounding forth with a roar, that seemed to shake the walls of the theatre, a lion of huge dimensions leaped upon the arena. Majesty and power were inscribed upon his lordly limbs; and as he stood there where he had first sprung, and looked round upon the multitude, how did his gentle eye and noble carriage, with which no one for a moment could associate meanness, or cruelty, or revenge, cast shame upon the human monsters assembled to behold a solitary, unarmed man torn limb from limb! When he had in this way looked upon that cloud of faces, he then turned and moved round the arena through its whole circumference, still looking upwards upon those who filled the seats-not till he had come again to the point from which he started, so much as noticing him who stood, his victim, in the midst. Then, as if apparently for the first time, becoming conscious of his presence, he caught the form of Probus; and moving slowly towards him, looked steadfastly upon him, receiving in return the settled gaze of the Christian. Standing there still awhile, each looking upon the other-he then walked round him, then approached nearer, making suddenly, and for a moment, those motions which indicate the roused appetite; but, as if it were in the spirit of self-rebuke, he immediately retreated a few paces, and lay down in the sand, stretched out his head towards Probus, and closed his eyes as if for sleep.

The people, who had watched in silence, and with the

interest of those who wait for their entertainment, were both amazed and vexed, at what now appeared to be the dullness and stupidity of the beast. When, however, he moved not from his place, but seemed as if he were indeed about to fall into a quiet sleep, those who occupied the lower seats began both to cry out to him, and shake at him their caps, and toss about their arms, in the hope to rouse him; but it was all in vain; and at the command of the Emperor, he was driven back to his den.

Again a door of the vivaria was thrown open, and another of equal size, but of a more alert and rapid step, broke forth, and, as if delighted with his sudden liberty, and the ample range, coursed round and round the arena, wholly regardless both of the people, and of Probus, intent only, as it seemed, upon his own amusement; and when at length he discovered Probus standing in his place, it was but to bound towards him as in frolic, and then wheel away in pursuit of a pleasure he esteemed more highly than the satisfying of his hunger. At this, the people were not a little astonished; and many who were near me hesitated not to say, "that there might be some design of the gods in this;" others said, plainly, but not with raised voices, "An omen! an omen!" At the same time, Isaac turned and looked at me with an expression of countenance which I could not interpret. Aurelian, meanwhile, exhibited many signs of impatience; and when it was evident the animal could not be wrought up, either by the cries of the people, or of the keepers. to any act of violence, he too was taken away; but when a third had been let loose, and with no better effect; nay, with less-for he, when he had at length approached Probus, fawned upon him, and laid himself at his feet-the people, superstitious, as you know, beyond any others, now cried out aloud, "An omen! an omen!" and made the sign that Probus should be spared, and removed. Aurelian himself seemed almost of the same mind, and I can hardly doubt would have ordered him to be released, but that Fronto at that moment approached him, and by a few of those words which, coming from him, are received by Aurelian as messages from Heaven-put within him a new and different mind; for rising quickly from his seat, he ordered the keeper of the vivaria to be brought before him. When he appeared below upon the sands, Aurelian cried out to him

"Why, knave, dost thou weary out our patience thus, letting forth beasts already over-fed? Do thus again, and thou thyself shalt be thrown to them.-Art thou too a Christian ?"

"Great Emperor," replied the keeper, "than those I have now let loose, there are not larger, nor fiercer in the imperial dens; and since the sixth hour of yesterday they have tasted nor food nor drink. Why they have thus put off their nature 'tis hard to guess, unless the general cry be taken for truth, that the gods have touched them.'

Aurelian was again seen to waver, when a voice from the benches cried out,

"It is, O Emperor, but another Christian device! Forget not the voice from the temple! The Christians, who claim power over demons, bidding them go and come at pleasure, may well be thought capable to change, by the magic imputed to them, the nature of a beast."

'I doubt not," said the Emperor, but it is so. Slave! throw up now the doors of all thy vaults, and let us see whether both lions and tigers be not too much for this new necromancy. If it be the gods who interpose, they

can shut the mouths of thousands as of one.'

At those cruel words, the doors of the vivaria were at once flung open, and an hundred of their fierce tenants, maddened both by hunger and the goads which had been applied, rushed forth, and in the fury with which, in a single mass they fell upon Probus-then kneeling upon the sands, and buried him beneath them, no one could behold his fate; nor when that dark troop separated, and ran howling about the arena in search of other victims, could the eye discover the least vestige of that holy man. I then fled from the theatre, as one who flies from that which is worse than death.

SELECTED POETRY.

A CHILDS FIRST IMPRESSION OF A STAR.

BY N. P. WILLIS.

She had been told that God made all the stars
That twinkled up in heaven; and now she stood
Watching the coming of the twilight on,

As if it were a new and perfect world,
And this were its first eve.

She stood alone

By the low window, with the silken lash

Of her soft eye upraised, and her sweet mouth
Half parted with the new and strange delight
Of beauty that she could not comprehend,
And had not seen before. The purple folds
Of the low sunset clouds, and the blue sky
That looked so still and delicate above,

Filled her young heart with gladness-and the eve
Stole on, with its deep shadows, and she still
Stood looking at the west, with that half smile,
As if a pleasant thought were at her heart.
Presently, in the edge of the last tint
Of sunset, where the blue was melted in
To the faint golden mellowness, a star
Stood suddenly. A laugh of wild delight
Burst from her lips, and putting up her hands,
Her simple thought broke forth expressively-
"Father, dear father! God has made a star!"

THE DOCTRINE OF ATONEMENT.

The most available charge now brought against Unitarians, and the one which is therefore most confidently urged is this, that they deny the atonement and trust to their own works for salvation. Tired as we are of confuting and denying, and often as the charge has been denied, we must still reiterate the same things. We do not reject the atonement, we do not rely upon our own merits. We believe that salvation, like every thing which we enjoy or hope for, is the free, undeserved gift of God. We believe also, that the life, the sufferings, and the death of Christ were indispensible and necessary for our salvation, and are the means through which alone we are saved. We have access to the Father through him, just as through the "door" we enter the temple.

Our own works we regard not as meritorious in any sense, but only as the conditions on which salvation is freely given, without which, however, it will not and can not be given. The only kind of works which can have even this efficacy, are those which spring from that spiritual and humble state of mind, by which we are impelled to commit ourselves entirely to God's disposal, and which in the scripture is called Faith.

Thus it is, therefore, that our belief stands: we are