of the poor, especially as dowers for the daughters of the poor nobility. On the 16th of April 1237, Ambrose entered the order of Dominicans at Sienna, this being his seventeenth birth day. He longed not for a slothful, but an active life. He wished to complete his theological studies at Paris, under the celebrated German ecclesiastical teacher-Albertus Magnus. On the way he was seized with a violent fever. A hermit, who had already obtained other fortunate cures, was called to the invalid. This man also tried to persuade him to turn back on the road for which God had not called him. It would be better for him to study law for the benefit of his native town, for the honor of God and the joy of his parents. But even in this voice Ambrose recognized only a diabolical temptation. He would not suffer the hermit to put his hand on him, but committed himself solely to God's hands, who soon restored him to health and permitted him to reach Paris rejoicing.

In the study of secular knowledge as well as of theology, Ambrose made such great progress that he soon attained the honorary degree of Bachelor, although he modestly declined it. In two years more he began to preach. Every one rushed to hear the gifted and anointed youth. He also bad Bible-classes and explained difficult passages of the Scriptures in such excellent style, that even learned Doctors attended. Still his unrest was a source of uneasiness, he wished to live in peace the life of a monk. Soon, however, he was obliged to go forth and deliver public theological lectures, and this be did gratuitously for three years. Even the most prominent teachers, such as Thomas Aquinas-most eminent among the Italians, and Albertus Magnus-greatest among the German savants of that period, sat at the feet of the pious and wise brother of Sienna, who also then published some learned books.

Sent by his superiors to Cologne as a teacher of theology, he retained this position for some years and studied German in order that he might be able to preach to the people. Appointed by Pope Gregory X., as one of his nuncios, he travelled preaching, especially through Germany, settled disputes between princes and peoples, and incited a crusade against the Tartars, in which the Hungarian King Bela IV. was frequently victorious.

In the mean time Pope Clement IV. had imposed his interdict (prohibition from all religious service) on the city of Sienna, because of its attachment to the German Emperor, Frederick II. Then Ambrose was called to put an end to this mischief. Before a great concourse of people, so great that it could not be contained by any of the churches, he preached in the Cathedral square, reconciled families torn apart by factions and obtained from the Pope, to whom he was sent by his native town, a revocation of the ban. After this, he was commissioned as papal nuncio to preach the cross in France. As a reward for his fidelity he would have received an episcopate, but Ambrose repeatedly in humility declined such distinction. Instead of this Innocence IV. brought him to

Rome as teacher of theology. He labored for three years here at the lecturer's desk and in the pulpit with great results. After this, he spent fifteen years in calm retirement in different Italian cloisters. One who poured forth so much as he, must indeed have in a holy assemblage also again received much through pious meditation and faithful prayer. Returning to his school he had, especially after the death of the great Thomas Aquinas, a still greater attendance of scholars.

In

In the year 1267, the last of the Hohenstaufen-Conrad of Suabia, with lordly pomp came to Italy. After his triumphal entrance into Rome, he was excommunicated by the Pope and seized by Charles of Anjou. From the dungeons of Naples the unfortunate heroic youth begged the pardon of the Pope, through Ambrose, and at the request of the eloquent man of peace he was pardoned. nocence V. sent Ambrose to Florence also to establish peace with Pisa. The charming discourse of the monk prevailed so as to reconcile the parties, after which the papal interdict on Florence was removed at his intercession. In like manner in Venice and Genoa he achieved a similar work as pacificator when the Pope died.

Of Brother Ambrose it could be well said: "How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace." He was love and charity, modesty and gentleness. He rejected all honors, because they belonged to God. He always made his journeys on foot. It was his choice to be with the poor and needy. He was an enemy to every ostentatious display of piety. Bashful in ordinary intercourse, he was in public speech as unterrified as a prophet of God. He was of priceless value to the Dominican Order. He also founded many pious associations (especially for females) with a view to a community of privileges and for the nursing of the sick. Stern to himself he was gentle with others. Reconciliation, forgiveness, peace-these were the end of his life and labors. Temperate in eating and sleeping, persevering and often wholly transported in prayer, strong in self-mortification, he furnished a pattern of a holy life according to the Catholic cut. He always wore a leaden girdle, over the hips, around the naked body.

Once when he was preaching with his customary zealous fire, during a fast, in Sienna, he was seized with a hemorrhage. Despite the requests of the brothers, he preached the next day just as zealously against usury. A second hemorrhage showed him that his end was nigh. He asked the brothers, weeping around him, rather to rejoice. He prayed fervently and took the Holy Supper, receiving it notwithstanding his weakness on his knees, then suffered himself to be raised to his bed and to receive extreme unction. Comforting the bystanders and embracing each in turn with a farewell kiss, he gently departed, March 20th 1287. The whole of Sienna did homage to the deceased, and people divided into small pieces his clothes, at public expense a superb marble monument was prepared, and miracle upon miracle was said to have

been worked at his grave. Still he was not canonized by Pope Bonefacius, because his family belonged to the Ghibellines (Imperials) and not to the Guelphs (Papals). Eugene IV. first granted in 1443, that, especially in the Dominican cloister of Sienna, the festival of St. Ambrose might be celebrated although he had not formally been canonized. At the grave of this pious man, of this zealous domestic missionary from childhood up, of this modest man of learning, of this enthusiastic preacher, of this messenger of love and reconciliation sacrificing himself in the service of the crucified One, we, evangelical Christians, who ought to care for every thing that can attract us to love and good works, we pronounce over Ambrose of Sienna, the blessed words of our Master: "Blessed are the peace-makers: for they shall be called the children of God."

SELLING OLD THINGS.

Sell that old table? No, I'll not sell it! It's only a pine table that's true; and it cost but eighteen shillings, twenty-five years ago, but your ten dollar bill is no temptation! And I'll not swap it either, for the prettiest mahogany or cherry table that you bring me. If it has plain turned legs, instead of a pillar in the middle, with lion's claws, and if the marble top is only varnished paper, still, I will not sell or swap it. It has been to me a very profita ble investment. From the day it came home it has been earning dividends and increasing its own capital. My children made a play house and drank tea in their toy cups under it, for which I thank the four legs, and when they got tired of it that way, they turned it upside down, and made a four-post bedstead with curtains, or pulled it round the carpet for a sleigh. Then they climbed on it for an observatory; and I never counted the glorious romps they had round it. And also, all along for twenty-five years it has paid its dividends of happiness to my family circle. These dividends could never be separated from it; until its value is not told in money. It has its quiet use, also; for nobody could tell it from a round table of agate and cornelian, with its salmon bordered green cover.

Nothing lasts forever. The top of the table was loosened by the hard use it got, so I took a punch, drove in the eight-penny nails below the surface, added a few screws, puttied them over, and pasted marble-paper checkers over the top. Then it was a really handsome table. It has had hard usage since, but bears it all; and the checkers want renewing, which will make it worth more yet. My watch is thirty years old. It is one of those thick silver levers which some poor wits call "turnips." It has been several times suggested to me that I might exchange it for a thin modern

gold watch, which wears easier in the pocket. When I do, you may set me down for a barbarian! No, the best gold and jeweled "hunter" in existence would not tempt me to swap. The watch marked the time when my children were born, and the record is set down in the family Bible; it has ticked on their ears when they could only speak by laughing at it, and kicking up their heels. It has marked the hours when the doctor's medicines were to be given, and counted their pulses when they beat low at midnight, and when the heart ached. It has made many records that are fast sealed up, to be opened only when another time comes.

Twenty-seven years have passed since my wito and I went out one evening and bought a tea-kettle. The fitting of the lid was a little imperfect, so that the escape of steam shook it, and caused a peculiar noise, nearly enough resembling the chirping of some insect to suggest the name by which it has now been known in the family for a long time-our "cricket on the hearth." Like the table and the watch, the kettle has been adding dividends to its capital every day since its first purchase, and, though nothing but iron, it could not be bought for its weight in silver. It has sung so long and regularly and cheerfully, that not only the kitchen but the whole house would be lonely without it. It has given us its fragrant blessing morning and evening, and come almost to be regarded as a living and talking creature.

It is never a good fortune that sells such old friends out of the family, and takes in new ones that have no history and no tongue. In all changes that have so far taken place, I have kept these silver bowls unbroken, and surely no change in the future shall break them.

A THOUGHTLESS BOY PUNISHED.

"I shall never forget," writes a correspondent, "an incident of my childhood by which I was taught to be careful not to wound the feelings of the unfortunate. A number of us school-boys were playing by the road-side one Saturday afternoon, when the stagecoach drove up to a neighboring tavern, and the passengers alighted. As usual, we gathered around to observe them. Among the number was an elderly man with a cane, who got out with much difficulty, and when on the ground, he walked with the most curious contortions. His feet turned one way, his knees another, and his whole body looked as though the different members were independent of it and of each other, and every one was making motions to suit itself. I unthinkingly shouted, 'Look at old rattlebone!' while the poor man turned his head with an expression of pain which I can never forget. Just then, to my surprise and horror, my father came around the corner, and immediately stepping up to the stranger, shook his hand warmly, and assisted him

to walk to our house, which was but a little distance. I could enjoy no more play that afternoon, and when tea-time came, I would gladly have hid myself, but I knew that would be in vain, and so tremblingly went into the sitting-room. To my great joy and relief, the stranger did not recognize me, but remarked pleasantly to my father as he introduced me-"Such a fine boy was surely worth saving." How the words cut me to the heart! My father had often told me the story of a friend who had plunged into the river to save me as I was drowning, while an infant, and who, in consequence of a cold then taken, had been made a cripple by inflammatory rheumatism; and this was the man whom I had made a butt of ridicule, and a laughing-stock for my companions! I tell you, boys and girls, I would give many pounds to have the memory of that event taken away. If ever you are tempted as I was, remember that while no good can come of sport whereby the feelings of others are wounded, you may be laying up for yourselves painful recollections that will not leave you for a lifetime."

CLOSE OF THE VOLUME.

Thus

This Number closes the XIVth volume of the "Guardian." far a kind Providence has watched over and prospered it, for which we here record our devout thanks.

One year it has been in the hands of the present Publishers; and we are sure our readers will agree with us, that they have done their part of the work neatly and faithfully. We may say for them that, in external appearance, it is not a whit behind any Magazine that appears in the land. But their motto is still greater improvements. This we hesitate not to promise in their name for the Now Volume.

As Editor we have endeavored to do our work conscientiously; how well we have succeeded our readers shall judge. We take the steady increase of the subscription list during the year as the silent evidence of public favor which we shall seek still further to deserve.

The January Number for 1864, being the first of the New Volume, will appear as early as possible in December. We invite all our old subscribers to continue with us. We hope also that the many friends of our Magazine, who have in the past so kindly interested themselves in its circulation, will again lend us their aid and influence. Though the price of paper has gone up vastly, the price of the "Guardian" remains at the low rate of $1 a year. It may, therefore, reasonably ask for an increase of its subscription list. We have every confidence that this hope will be realized.

And now "heart within, and God over-head". '—we bid adieu to the Old, and enter upon the New. May all our work be found to be well done at last!