“Come now, my little one,” said the monk, after they had ceased singing, as he laid his hand on Agnes’s head.  “I am strong now; I know where I stand.  And you, my little one, you are one of my master’s ’Children of the Cross.’  You must sing the hymns of our dear master, that I have taught you, when I am far away.  A hymn is a singing angel, and goes walking through the earth, scattering the devils before it.  Therefore he who creates hymns imitates the most excellent and lovely works of our Lord God, who made the angels.  These hymns watch our chamber-door, they sit upon our pillow, they sing to us when we awake; and therefore our master was resolved to sow the minds of his young people with them, as our lovely Italy is sown with the seeds of all colored flowers.  How lovely has it often been to me, as I sat at my work in Florence, to hear the little children go by, chanting of Jesus and Mary,—­and young men singing to young maidens, not vain flatteries of their beauty, but the praises of the One only Beautiful, whose smile sows heaven with stars like flowers!  Ah, in my day I have seen blessed times in Florence!  Truly was she worthy to be called the Lily City!—­for all her care seemed to be to make white her garments to receive her Lord and Bridegroom.  Yes, though she had sinned like the Magdalen, yet she loved much, like her.  She washed His feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hair of her head.  Oh, my beautiful Florence, be true to thy vows, be true to thy Lord and Governor, Jesus Christ, and all shall be well!”

“Amen, dear uncle!” said Agnes.  “I will not fail to pray day and night, that thus it may be.  And now, if you must travel so far, you must go to rest.  Grandmamma has gone long ago.  I saw her steal by as we were singing.”

“And is there any message from my little Agnes to this young man?” asked the monk.

“Yes.  Say to him that Agnes prays daily that he may be a worthy son and soldier of the Lord Jesus.”

“Amen, sweet heart!  Jesu and His sweet Mother bless thee!”

* * * * *

A NEW COUNTERBLAST

“He that taketh tobacco saith he cannot leave it, it doth bewitch him.”—­KING JAMES’S COUNTERBLAST TO TOBACCO.

America is especially responsible to the whole world for tobacco, since the two are twin-sisters, born to the globe in a day.  The sailors first sent on shore by Columbus came back with news of a new continent and a new condiment.  There was solid land, and there was a novel perfume, which rolled in clouds from the lips of the natives.  The fame of the two great discoveries instantly began to overspread the world; but the smoke travelled fastest, as is its nature.  There are many races which have not yet heard of America:  there are very few which have not yet tasted of tobacco.  A plant which was originally the amusement of a few savage tribes has become in a few centuries the fancied necessary of life to the most enlightened nations of the earth, and it is probable that there is nothing cultivated by man which is now so universally employed.