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They clasp His hands, His garments, they cling about
And lift to Him their dewy lips to give Him kisses
But one among their number in silence walked apart, And tears fell slowly from his eyes, and sobs welled from his heart.
And the Lady Judith wondered, "Why is the child so
When all his pretty playmates seem so full of life and
And the Lord Christ, looking tenderly on all the children, smiled,
As He held His arms extended toward the little, grieving child.
And soon the shining golden head is to His bosom
Why quivers thus my Lady's heart within her throbbing breast,
As thus she murmurs to herself, unheard by all save one, "Ah! my darling mourns his mother in the arms of Mary's Son."
But the little one is speaking, and she eager bends to
For the rosy lips are pressing close to the Saviour's ear: "Dear Christ," they trembling whisper, "will you not
let me go
To comfort my poor mother, I hear her grieving so?
And she heard the Lord Christ answer, " If you go beck
You must stay the time allotted unto the sons of men, You must share their bitter sorrows, mayhap their shame and sin,
pray and weep for Heaven's rest ere you can enter in."
And sobbing still, the child replied, "My mother loves
I hear her crying day and night; dear Christ, you'll let
The Saviour kissed him lovingly, then placed him on the ground,
While all the children, wondering, stood in solemn silence round.
"I'll take you to your mother now," He said, and led the way;
The Lady Judith shrieked aloud, "Oh! stay, my darling, stay,
I would not have you back again." At once my Lady
And now the Christmas bells again the chamber's stillness broke.
Again four walls confined her gaze, and Mary's pictured
Looked down with yearning tenderness from its familiar place.
A moment wrapped in thought she lay, then, springing from her bed,
Hail! blessed mother, blessed Son, hail! Christmas morn," she said.
She dressed herself in richest robes, and called her
"Make haste," she cried, "light glowing fires and deck the banquet hall;
Go forth, then bring in children, bring every child you meet;
Search all the city's byways, search every lane and street.
"Look for the homeless, friendless, for every little one Is dear to me for Jesus' sake, and for my own dear son, Who dwells with Him in Heaven and cannot happy be, Because-O Christ! have pity!-because of sinful me.'
Then loudly rang the castle bells, and soon, from far and
The children came, and laughed, and sang, and shared the Christmas cheer.
That night, as on her pillow the Lady Judith lay,
A light shone all around her, like the brightness of the
And she saw the happy valley and heard the children
"He comes, He comes, the children's Friend, He
our Lord and King."
And akin to pain the rapture that filled the mother's
As the voice she knew rang sweeter, and for her above the rest;
'Twas the voice of her beloved, and she knew no sorrow
Weighed on his tender little heart or dimmed his shining brow.
And evermore she walked content along life's thorny
With heart upraised in thankfulness to where her child
And evermore on Christmas, when she heard the joybells ring,
"All hail!" she cried, 66 our blessed Lord, the children's Friend and King."
MRS. E. V. WILSON.
EXTRACT FROM A EULOGY ON GENERAL GRANT.
ANOTHER name is added to the roll of those whom
the world will not willingly let die. A few years since, storm-clouds filled his heaven, and obloquy, slander, and bitter lies rained down upon him. The clouds are all blown away; under a serene sky General Grant laid down his life and the whole nation wept. The path to his tomb is worn by the feet of innumerable pilgrims.
The mildewed lips of slander are silent, and even criticism hesitates lest some incautious word should mar the history of the modest, gentle, magnanimous warrior. The whole nation watched his passage through humiliating misfortunes with unfeigned sympathy-the whole world sighed when his life ended. At his burial the unsworded hands of those whom he had fought lifted his bier and bore him to his tomb with love and rever
The South had laid the foundation of her industry, her commerce, and her very commonwealth upon slavery.
It was slavery that inspired her councils, that engorged her philanthropy, that corrupted her political economy and theology, that disturbed all the ways of active politics-broke up sympathy between North and South. The hand that fired upon Sumter exploded the mine under the Flood Rock of slavery and opened the way to civilization. The spark that was there kindled fell upon the North like fire upon autumnal prairies. Men came together in the presence of this universal calamity with sudden fusion; the whole land became a military school. But the Northern armies once organized, an amiable folly of conciliation began to show itself. Some peaceable way out of the war was hoped for. Generals seemed to fight so that no one should be hurt. The South had smelted into a glowing mass; it believed in its course with an infatuation that would have been glorious if the cause had been better; it put its whole soul into it and struck hard. For two years the war lingered, unmarked by great deeds. Lincoln, sad and sorrowful, felt the moderation of his generals and longed for a man of iron mold, who had but two words in his military vocabulary-victory or annihilation. He was coming; he was heard from at Henry and Donelson. Three great names were rising to sight,Sherman, Thomas, Sheridan, and, larger than any, Grant.
At the opening of the war his name was almost unknown. It was with difficulty he could obtain a command. Once set forward, Donelson, Shiloh, Vicksburg, Chattanooga, the Wilderness, Spottsylvania, Petersburg, Appomattox-these were his footsteps! In four years he had risen, without political favor, from the bottom to the very highest command-not second to any living ♥ommander in all the world. His plans were large, his