its body-guard of priests. The victims, each surrounded by monks, appeared next, closely followed by the higher officers and Inquisi. tors; and a band of fifty men in rich dresses of black satin and silver, closed the proces sion. "We have no space to linger on the ceremonies always attendant on the burning of Inquisitorial prisoners. Although from the more private nature of the rites, these cere monies were greatly curtailed, it was rather more than half-an-hour after nine when the victims were bound to their respective stakes, and the executioners approached with their blazing brands. "There was no change in the countenance of either prisoner. Pale they were, yet calm and firm; all of human feeling had been merged in the martyr's courage, and the martyr's faith. "One look had been exchanged between them of love spiritualized to look beyond the grave-of encouragement to endure for their God, even to the end. The sky was still cloudless, the sun still looked down on that scene of horror; and then was a hush a pause for so it felt in nature, that stilled the very breathing of those around. "Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is ONE-the Sole and Holy ONE; there is no unity like His unity!' were the words which broke that awful pause, in a voice distinct, unfaltering, and musical as its wont; and it was echoed by the sweet tones from woman's lips, so thrilling in their melody, the rudest nature started. It was the signal of their fate. The executioners hastened forward; the brands were applied to the turf of the piles-the flames blazed up beneath their hand-when, at that moment, there came a shock, as if the very earth were cloven asunder, the heavens rent in twain. A crash so loud, so fearful, so appalling, as if the whole of Lisbon had been shivered to its foundations, and a shriek, or rather thousands and thousands of human voices, blended in one wild piercing cry of agony and terror, seeming to burst from every quarter at the self-same instant, and fraught with universal woe! The buildings around shook, as impelled by a mighty whirlwind, though no sound of such was heard. The earth heaved, yawned, closed, and rocked again, as the billows of the ocean, when lashed to fury. It was a moment of untold horror. The crowd, assembled to witness the martyrs' death, fled wildly shrieking on every side. Scattered to the heaving ground the blazing piles lay powerless to injure: their bonds were shivered; their guards were fled. One bound brought Alvar to his wife, and he clasped her in his arms. 'God! God of mercy! save us yet again! Be with us to the end!' he exclaimed; and faith winged the prayer. On-on he sped; up-up in direction of the heights, where he knew comparative safety lay; but ere he reached them, the innumerable sights and sounds of horror that yawned upon his way! Every street, and square, and avenue was choked with shattered ruins; rent from top to bottom, houses, convents, and churches presented the most fearful aspect of ruin; while every second minute a new impetus seemed to be given to the convulsed earth' causing those that remained still perfect to rock and rend. Huge stones, falling from every crack, were crushing the miserable fugitives as they rushed on, seeking safety they knew not where. The rafters of every roof, wrenched from their fastenings, stood upright a brief while, and then fell in hundreds together, with a crash perfectly appalling. The very ties of nature were severed in the wild search for safety. Individual life alone appeared worth preserving. None dared seek the fate of friends--none dared ask, Who lives?' in that one scene of universal death. "On-on sped Alvar and his precious burden; on, over the piles of ruins; on, unhurt amidst the showers of stones, which, hurled in the air as easily as a ball cast from an infant's hand, fell back again laden with a hundred deaths. On, amid the rocking and yawning earth, beholding thousands swallowed up, crushed and maimed, worse than death itself, for they were left to a lin-gering torture to die a thousand deaths in anticipating one-on, over the disfigured heaps of dead, and the unrecognised masses of what had once been magnificent and gorgeous buildings. His eye was well nigh blinded with the shaking and tottering movement of all things animate and inanimate before him; and his path obscured by the sudden and awful darkness, which had changed that bright glowing blue of the sunny sky into a pall of dense and terrible blackness, becoming thicker and denser with every succeeding minute, till a darkness which might be felt, enveloped that devoted city as with the grim shadow of death. His ear was deafened by the appalling sounds of human agony and Nature's wrath; for now, sounds as of a hundred water-spouts, the dull continued roar of subterranean thunder, becoming at times loud as the discharge of a thousand canons; at others, resembling the sharp grating sound of hundreds and hundreds of chariots driven full speed over the stones; and this, mingled with the piercing shrieks of women, the hoarser cries and shouts of men, the deep terrible groans of mental agony, and the shriller screams of instantaneous death, had usurped the place of the previous awful stillness, till every sense of those who yet survived seemed distorted and maddened And nature herself, convulsed and freed from restraining bonds, appeared about to return to that chaos whence she had leaped at the word of God!" Space will not admit of our going further. We can only add Alvar escaped with his precious charge, and regained his child, who had been sent to England; and we are assured it is no fiction, that "to providential preservation by giving, on this very day his descendants recal his every returning anniversary of that awful day, certain articles of clothing to a limited number of male and female poor." TRUE THOUGH TRITE. "Every man will be thy friend, While thou hast wherewith to spend ; The Gatherer. New Westminster Bridge.—Mr Barry has recommended a new iron bridge at Westminster, at a cost of 185,000l., by which the navigation and trade of the river would be improved, the effect upon the new houses of parliament be consulted, and the whole tend to a general consistency and beauty not attainable by patching and keeping up the old affair. A punster has suggested that future parliaments may object to so much iron nigh. Sporting near the Pyramids of Egypt.From Col. Napier we learn that there is no lack of game in Egypt. He says, "Our exploits were confined to a few gallops after foxes and jackals, which we generally found in the neighbourhood of the pyramids-to frightening the hares we turned out of the mimosa thickets bordering the desertand to occasionally breathing, though without effect, both dogs and horses after the gazelles we sometimes met with during our more distant excursions into the desert, and which invariably went off as on the wings of the wind, disappearing amidst its boundless sands." Respect shown to Ancient Deities.Though recognised out of their own domains as having a divine power, and celebrated with almost equal honours by the various poets, the gods of Greece and Rome were supposed to have a peculiar local influence, and a decided predilection for certain places and persons. Thus when Veji was razed and incorporated with Rome, the Romans, wishing to naturalize in their city the Veientine worship of Juno, before they proceeded to move her statue first asked the goddess, "Visne Romam ire Juno ?"-"whether she was willing to go to Rome?" Ancient Trees at Mexico.-On entering the gardens of Chapultepec, the first object that strikes the eye is the magnificent Cypress (Sabino, Ahŭahuētě, or Cupressus disticha), called the Cypress of Montezuma. It had attained its full growth when that monarch was on the throne (1520), so that it must be at least four hundred years old, yet it retains all the vigour of youthful vegetation. The trunk is forty-one feet in circumference, yet the height is so majestic, as to make even this enormous mass appear slender. On a close inspection, it appears to be composed of three trees, the trunks of which unite towards the root. Necessary Information.-A German anatomist commences one chapter thus:The nose: this important organ occupies a conspicuous position on the human face, of which it is a prominent feature, being situated in most subjects immediately below the forehead, between the eyes, and above the mouth!" Amaury de Chartres.-This learned disputant maintained that God and matter were indivisible—“A simple being,” said Paper Pence.-England, who formerly disdained a paper circulating medium for silver, has now one for copper. Postage stamps are extensively used in change. The gentleman who cannot be loaded with four or five penny pieces, has no objection to carry half a dozen stamps in his waistcoat pocket. Mr Sinclair. This admired vocalist, after a long absence, has returned to Scotland, and was to give a farewell concert at Glasgow last night. How to Breed Travellers.-Children destined by their parents to be travellers should be thrown into a pail of ice the moment they are born, and then transferred for half an hour to the kitchen fire: they may have to swim across frozen rivers, and run a race in the torrid zone more than once before they die:-they should be often fed on bread and water, and sometimes not at all. They may dislike this at the time, but they will thank their parents for it hereafter.-Continental Travellers' Guide. Sacrilege in Ancient Days.-When Alcibiades and his associates were accused of insulting the public religion of Attica, the writing, of accusation set forth that "Alcibiades had committed sacrilege towards Ceres and Proserpine, by imitating the mysteries, and showing them to his companions in the same dress in which the hierophant showed the sacred things; and by calling himself the hierophant, Polytion the torch-bearer, and Theodorus the herald." Original Communications. ARCHITECTURE OF THE MIDDLE AGES. A VENERABLE specimen of the pious in dustry of our ancestors is the subject of our cut this week-the arch in the vestry on the south side of Worcester Cathedral. Our readers need hardly be informed that this temple for divine worship has stood many centuries. Here repose the bones of that great instrument of good in the hands of Providence, the evil-disposed King John a selfish tyrant, but one of the principal founders of British liberty. It was formerly doubted that the grave I called his, was really so. The altar tomb in the choir was believed by some to have been simply an honorary erection. It bears the inscription Johannes Rex Anglia, but it is almost illegible; and though the figure on the slab held in his hands a sceptre and a sword, it was understood that the body of King John had been deposited in the Lady Chapel. At length, in the year 1797, the question was in a great measure set at rest. The effigy being removed, and the stones which sustained it, the vault was laid open, and then it was No. 1214] found between two brick walls, and under some elm boards, a stone coffin had been buried, and here the remains of the king were found. It was evident that the sepulchre, since the original interment, had been disturbed by some curious explorer; but portions of the royal frame were still in a perfect state. Instead of a crown, however, the head had been encircled with a monk's cowl. This corpse had been enveloped in an embroidered robe, seemingly of crimson damask; the coffin rested on the pavement of the choir, and the original cover was the slab on which the figure is sculptured. The tomb of Arthur, Prince of Wales, elder brother of Henry VIII, is also found in this cathedral. The arch above represented is supposed to be a portion of the oldest part of the cathedral. Britton says of it: "Mr Green asserts that the eastern end is an ancient part of the cathedral, with its original embellishments. In Storer's and some other works the statement is repeated. The writer in Storer's volume says that part of Walstan's church still constitutes the choir and lady chapel of the existing building. This choir, near the nave, has a crypt under it, and the part now called the lady chapel was the original [VOL. XLIV. choir." This assertion is more than improbable; it is refuted by almost every other Norman church, not only in England but on the continent. A crypt is almost invariably under the choir, for the purpose of raising and keeping its floor dry, as at Winchester, Canterbury, Gloucester, &c. The style and architectural features of this choir, the lady chapel, and the small transept, are the first points, and nearly corresponding with Salisbury cathedral, and as the church of Worcester was newly consecrated by Bishop Silvester, in 1218, when King Henry III, and a concourse of the nobles and gentry of his court were present, it may fairly be believed that it had recently been rebuilt. It also appears that it had sustained much damage by fire, particularly in the years 1113 and in 1202. Between these two dates we may refer several parts of the present cathedral, viz, the passages on the west and south, and east sides of the cloister, the lower part of the refectory and the walls of the chapter house, the west transept and the two west transepts of the nave. The latter belongs to the end of the twelfth century. The older portions of the church in the transept, and particularly its eastern wall, through which there were entrances to the crypt, and also two doorways in semicircular arches to the vestry on the south side, and to the sacristy on the north. 1620, 1720, AND 1820; OR, THE DEAD GUEST. "All nations have their omens drear, THERE is an awful tradition of no modern date, still listened to with attention in Herbesheim, a small German town, that once in every century, during Advent, a being no longer of earth, pays a visit to the place in which he once lived in the flesh. His mission is a fearful one, as he comes not to warn of danger or to bring the guilty to justice, but to wring the necks of newly-betrothed females. On this, under the title of Todte Gast,' or the 'Dead Guest,' Zschokke has formed a startling story. In the year 1820, the year which completed the century within which the Dead Guest was to reappear, an officer in command of a body of troops at Herbesheim, was billeted on a rich but somewhat eccentric manufacturer, named Bantes. His aspect was martial, but agreeable; and he was kindly received into the family circle of the manufacturer, for whom he evinced much regard. His host made some inquiries of him respecting a youth named George Waldrich, to whom he had been guardian, and who sometime before had run away from school and joined the army. "The name," said the officer, "I confess is familiar to me; but I am sorry to say I can tell you little good of him." "So I feared," said the manufacturer. "He was always a wild, good-for-nothing scapegrace, never easy but when in mischief. I was apprehensive that he would come to some bad end." "Nay," interposed the beautiful Frederica, the manufacturer's daughter, "say not so. Though careless, he was generous and brave." "But eternally getting into some scrape." "He was not overstocked with prudence, I confess,” replied the daughter; "still it is not for us to speak disparagingly of him. But for his intrepid kindness my father would have been childless. When our house was on fire, and the domestics, seeking only their own safety, had left me to my fate, he daringly rushed through the flames, and, at the risk of his life, snatched me from destruction, and then withdrew without waiting for thanks and even without letting me know to whom I owed my deliverance." "So he afterwards reported, perhaps," remarked the officer. "You wrong him, sir," Frederica tartly rejoined. "Satisfied with doing a noble action, he disdained to claim praise or gratitude." "Then how, since he was not recognised, can it be known that he was the deliverer." Because, having thrown off his coat preparatory to rushing into the burning mass, it was carried off by a varlet in the crowd that idly looked on. The thief was taken, and in the pockets of the stolen garment letters were found, which proved, beyond all doubt, that the preserver of Frederica was no other than the scapegrace George Waldrich." "There was something in that, I own," said the father; "but, notwithstanding, he should not have run away. He is a sad fellow, and will never be worth a florin." "He was always too anxious to be a soldier, I own." The young officer pulled his bushy whiskers with an air of chagrin, as if he felt a reflection, which might have been spared, had been cast on the military profession. "But," added the young lady, "the tyranny of the schoolmaster furnished a sufficient excuse for his flight, as was proved shortly afterwards by the total breaking up of the school. If poor George fled from a brutal pedagogue, I never heard that in any other case he fled from an enemy." “Well, well,” said Bantes, retiring, “after "Indeed!" the mother archly replied; "but," she significantly added, "you do not tell us how badly you treated him." Frederica looked grateful for this remark, which, she had no doubt, would be keenly felt by their military inmate, the calumniator of Waldrich. "In fact," continued the old lady, "I more than suspect you owe to him everything you have; and that even at this moment you have his coat on your back." "Ah! my kind madam," cried the officer, laughing, "what, you have found me out, have you !" and, jumping up with good-natured vivacity, "Ill make you pay for this," he exclaimed, with affected anger, and in the next moment kissed the mother and clasped the blooming daughter tenderly to his heart. "The wondering fair one turn'd to chide, 'Twas Waldrich's self that pressed." It would be a waste of words to dwell on the warm delight which filled the heart of the lovely Frederica, when she recognised in the gallant captain the playmate of her early days. The gratifying discovery of his promotion and happy return in the same moment, spread joy through the whole family, and his guardian, informed of what had transpired, was warm and sincere in his congratulations on the honourable distinction which George had gained, and which had made him their guest. Festivity and harmony celebrated the incident. His birthday, which happened just then to come round, was marked by more than usual rejoicing. On such occasions it is customary for a king and queen of the feast to be appointed. All offer presents to their majesties, and all kiss those illustrious personages. George received and returned the kiss of Frederica with a warmth which startled the companion of his childhood. Yet was she far from being offended. Though different from what he had been when a boy, she admired him more than ever. Yet for her that was not a day of un clouded happiness. On taking her seat at the dinner table, when she lifted her napkin from her plate, there appeared beneath it a ring and a diamond necklace. These, indeed, found favour in her eyes, for she was a woman; but they were accompanied by a letter which communicated the important but unwelcome tidings, that unknown to her the careful manufacturer had engaged her to the son of the wealthy and noble banker, Herr von Hahn, and that her intended, being in too delicate health to travel in the bad weather then prevailing, had sent his offerings with this billet doux, instead of presenting them in person. To her father this was most satisfactory. He had expected the pleasure which he experienced would be shared by all his family and all his friends; but this was far from being the case. To his amazement and vexation the announcement which he had been persuaded would add to the general merriment threw an ominous gloom over every countenance. Frederica, with tears, begged that she might, at least, be permitted to see her intended bridegroom before she was understood to accept him; but this, though her suit was backed by their military guest, appeared to Bantes wholly unnecessary. He was disposed to make no concession to childish folly, and the day closed in sadness. Frederica and Waldrich soon found an opportunity of communicating their sentiments to each other. Their conference was too long to be here reported verbatim. Suffice it to say, it ended in a passionate declaration on his part, and in a pledge on hers, that she would never consent to marry the young banker. The moment now drew near when, ac. cording to general report, the coming of the terrible spectre, the Dead Guest, might be looked for. To spare the feelings of Waldrich, the lady of the manufacturer urged that at such a period of excitation, not to say apprehension, a wedding ought not to be celebrated. Bantes laughed at "the old woman's story," as he called it. It was utterly unworthy of a serious thought. Nothing, in fact, was known to be depended upon, but that in a certain church register the deaths of three brides were recorded in the year 1720 with the additional words, "With their faces turned to their backs, as one hundred years ago-God have mercy on their poor souls!" What, he laughingly asked, could be made of that? His curiosity was, however, in some degree moved by certain whisperings to hear all that had been told on the subject, and he listened with attention to one of his guests, who undertook to relate what he had heard from a grey-headed old man, who devoutly believed in it, and who, when |