sence, and, after much violent language received fiveand-twenty lashes; then, in a sarcastic tone of blasphemous ridicule, the tyrant exclaimed, "What can Jesus Christ do for you now?" "He enables me to bear it patiently," said the poor child. "Give him five-and-twenty lashes more !" cried the cruel wretch. He was obeyed. "And what can Jesus Christ do for you now?" asked the unfeeling monster. "He helps me to look forward to a future reward," replied the little sufferer. "Give him five-and-twenty lashes more!" They complied; and while he listened with delight to the extorted groans of his dying victim, he again demanded, "What can Jesus Christ do for you The youthful martyr, with the last effort of expiring nature, meekly answered, "He enables me to pray for you, massa," and instantly breathed his now ?" last! Greensted Church. DOTTED as the land of England still is with the curious and costly works of art, it is greatly to be regretted that so many have been demolished. Can a building be razed whose every stone teems with history to make room for modern improvement? Oh! 'tis a sad sight to witness these structures-which Time, withering and consuming as it is, could not destroydemolished through the blind fury of a mob, or the caprice of the owner of the land on which it stands. Yet thus it too often happens, that, in one short hour, buildings which might have formed studies for the architects of successive generations, blending as they do the beautiful and majestic, are too often sacrificed. It is, however, scarcely possible for a person with a reflecting mind to look upon structures grown grey with time, and tottering beneath the weight of years, without feelings of emotion, bordering on veneration, rising in the mind. The frowning castle, where of old the imperious baron reigned despotic, whose smile diffused gladness, and whose frown was death, cannot be passed heedlessly by :-its massive walls—its mossgrown battlements-its ponderous doors-its spacious halls-its gloomy dungeons-all have their tales to tell. But, perhaps, of all structures, churches are the most calculated to awaken the liveliest emotions: the stones on, which our forefathers have stood, and which now form the coverings for their beds, echo a solemn warning. One cannot enter the ivy-grown porch of one of these sacred edifices without veneration !-the walls around, covered as they are with the ensigns of mortality, seem yet to breathe the hymn of praise which generation after generation has poured forth. Wishing to avoid the buildings which have been so often presented to the public notice, that they have become as familiar as "household words," we shall not introduce the magnificent cathedral with its lofty spires, its splendid architecture, its stately columns, its beautiful arches; we rather choose a less gorgeous edifice,— one of comparative insignificance, but which, from its peculiar structure, and very high antiquity, becomes an object of considerable interest. In the retired parish of Greensted, near Ongar, H |