"It was not exactly what we call a feast," mamma replied. "It was more

like a great celebration. It recalled a great event in the nation's

history, the escape of the Jews from captivity. It was called the

'Feast of the Passover.' {252} The Jewish people from all over the

world came to Jerusalem to celebrate it."

"Why, it must have been the Fourth of July of the Jews," said Harold.

"Something like that," replied mamma, smiling. "Only the little Jewish

boys did not make as much noise as my small son makes on his country's

birthday.

"Well, the friends of Jesus who came with him to this feast wanted to

show how much they loved him. They often wanted to treat him as though

he were a king. Once they did treat him in this way, and Jesus did not

forbid it. It does people good to show their friends how much they

love them.

"Jesus stayed at night with his friends, in a village not far from the

city, and every morning he came into the city. One morning he came

over the hill, on the road which leads into the city, riding on an

ass. It was a beautiful morning, and all his friends who were with him

were filled with gladness. They shouted and sang as they marched

along. They shouted 'Hosanna!' just as you shout 'Hurrah!' when you

are marching in your processions. 'This man is going to be our king!'

they called. 'Praise God for our king!' People from the city saw them

coming and went out to meet them, so that there was a great multitude.

They broke off branches of the palm trees along the way, and waved

them in the air, just as the soldiers wave the royal banners of the

king. Some of the people took off their cloaks and laid them on the

ground for him to ride over, just as if he were a great king. They

placed their palm branches on the ground, too, so that they seemed

like a beautiful green carpet."

{253}{254}

[Illustration]

JESUS ENTERING JERUSALEM IN TRIUMPH

By Bernard Plockhorst (1825- )

"And as he went, they spread their garments in the way. And as he

was now drawing nigh, even at the descent of the Mount of Olives,

the whole multitude of the disciples began to rejoice and praise

God with a loud voice for all the mighty works which they had seen;

saying, Blessed is the King that cometh in the name of the Lord:

peace in heaven, and glory in the highest."--_Luke 19:36-38_

[End illustration]

{255}

"Oh," said Margaret, "how pleased Jesus must have been!"

"Yes," said mamma, "Jesus was pleased to know that the people loved

him. And he was a king, you know, though he never sat upon a throne.

The Bible sometimes calls him, 'King of kings, and Lord of lords.'

"When they reached the city, there were many little children in the

streets and about the temple. Now the children always loved Jesus, and

when they saw him coming in this procession they all ran to meet him.

They all joined in the procession, and sang songs, and shouted

'Hosanna!' and waved their hands for the children's king. Some of

those people who did not like Jesus tried to stop the children. But

Jesus would not tell them to stop."

"If I had been there, I would have shouted for Jesus," said Harold.

"That is my brave boy," said mamma. "But you must remember that there

is just as much chance to let people know that you stand up for Jesus

now, as then. You must never be afraid to let it be known that you are

Jesus' friend.

"Now we will sing that hymn that you like so much. It is a good hymn

for Palm Sunday."

So they sang,--

"Onward, Christian soldiers,

Marching as to war,

With the cross of Jesus

Going on before. {256}

Christ, the royal Master,

Leads against the foe;

Forward into battle,

See, His banners go.

"Like a mighty army

Moves the church of God;

Brothers, we are treading

Where the saints have trod;

We are not divided,

All one body we,

One in hope and doctrine,

One in charity.

"Crowns and thrones may perish,

Kingdoms rise and wane,

But the church of Jesus

Constant will remain;

Gates of hell can never

'Gainst that church prevail;

We have Christ's own promise,

And that cannot fail.

"Onward, then, ye people,

Join our happy throng,

Blend with ours your voices

In the triumph song;

Glory, laud, and honor

Unto Christ the King;

This through countless ages

Men and angels sing."

{257}

HOW JESUS GAVE HIS LIFE FOR THE WORLD

One afternoon in the springtime, just before Easter, Margaret was

playing with her dolls. Her mamma came into the room and said:--

"I want my little girl to be good while I am gone; I am going to

church."

"Why, mamma," said Margaret, "this is not Sunday, this is Friday."

"Yes," said mamma, "and this evening I will tell you and Harold why I

am going to church on Friday."

At bedtime, mamma said, "Now I will tell you

HOW JESUS GAVE HIS LIFE FOR THE WORLD.

"It is a very sad and yet a very sweet story. It is very sad to think

that Jesus had enemies who hated him so much that they could kill him,

and yet we love the story because it tells us how much Jesus loved us.

"If we love anyone very much, we are willing to give up things for

him."

"Yes," said Margaret, "Harold loves me, and he gave up his party when

I was sick, and noise troubled me."

"That was a very kind and unselfish thing for Harold to do," said

mamma, "but Jesus gave up very much more than that for our sakes.

"You would have to love anyone very much indeed to give up your home

for him. You would have to love {258} anyone better than you love

yourself to give up your life for him."

"Do you mean like Frank's papa," said Harold, "when he ran into the

fire when his house burned, to get Frank, and almost died?"

"Yes," said mamma, "Frank's papa loved his little boy better than he

loved his own life, and he was ready to give his own life that his

little boy might be saved."

"But why is the story sad, then?" said Margaret.

"It is sad," replied mamma, "because his death was such a cruel one,

and because he suffered so much.

"One night Jesus gathered his dearest friends about him, and they had

supper together, and he told them how much he loved them, and that

they must never forget him.

"After the supper was over he went out into the night, to a place

called the Garden of Gethsemane. Then his enemies came with torches,

and found him there, and seized hold upon him, and bound him with

ropes, and led him away.

"After they had treated him with great cruelty, they took him to a

hill called Calvary outside the city, and there, before a great

multitude of people, they nailed his hands and his feet to a cross of

wood, and after he had suffered very much, he died there upon the

cross. Then it grew dark upon the hill, and an earthquake shook the

ground, and the people ran away in terror, because they began to see

what a wicked thing they had done."

"Oh, what wicked people," said Margaret, "to kill dear Jesus!"

{259}{260}

[Illustration]

JESUS IN THE HOME OF MARY AND MARTHA

By Siemiradski (1843- )

"And fast beside the olive-bordered way

Stands the blessed home where Jesus deigned to stay;

The peaceful home, to zeal sincere

And heavenly contemplation dear,

Where Martha loved to wait with reverence meet,

And wiser Mary lingered at Thy sacred feet."

--_John Keble_

[End illustration]

{261}

"Jesus loved even them," said mamma, softly. "He was so good that he

loved them, even while they were killing him, and asked his Father in

heaven to forgive them, too.

"You must remember that when we do what is wrong, we hurt our Father

in heaven very much, but Jesus has taught us that he loves us still,

and is ready to forgive us when we ask him.

"So this is the reason why we love Jesus so much. 'We love him because

he first loved us.' This is the reason why mamma went to church

to-day, to thank God for sending to the world such a loving Jesus, and

to remember the day on which he died for us, and for all the world.

"Now mamma will sing you a beautiful hymn about the cross. The cross

was dreadful then, but we love it now because it makes us remember the

love of Jesus."

"In the cross of Christ I glory;

Towering o'er the wrecks of time;

All the light of sacred story

Gathers round its head sublime.

"When the woes of life o'ertake me,

Hopes deceive and fears annoy,

Never shall the cross forsake me;

Lo! it glows with peace and joy.

"When the sun of bliss is beaming

Light and love upon my way,

From the cross the radiance streaming

Adds new luster to the day.

{262}

"Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure,

By the cross are sanctified;

Peace is there that knows no measure,

Joys that through all time abide.

"In the cross of Christ I glory;

Towering o'er the wrecks of time;

All the light of sacred story

Gathers round its head sublime."

{263}{263}

[Illustration]

THE FIRST EASTER DAWN

By J. K. Thompson

"The day of resurrection,

Earth, tell it out abroad:

The Passover of gladness,

The Passover of God.

From death to life eternal,

From earth unto the sky,

Our Christ hath brought us over

With hymns of victory."

--_John of Damascus_

[End illustration]

{265}

THE STORY OF THE FIRST EASTER DAY

It was Easter Day. Both Margaret and Harold went to church. It was a

beautiful day, warm and pleasant. The grass was green, and the tulips

and the crocuses were blossoming in the gardens. Everybody was glad

that the snow and the cold of winter had gone. When they were on their

way to church, they saw a robin on a branch of a tree. The children

laughed with pleasure to see Mr. Robin Redbreast back again. At church

there were beautiful flowers, and the choir sang Easter songs and

hymns. One of the hymns Harold liked very much indeed. He said it made

him feel that the world was so glad that it couldn't help singing its

gladness right out. This hymn began--

"Christ the Lord is risen to-day

Sons of men and angels say,

Raise your joys and triumphs high,

Sing, ye heavens, and, earth, reply."

In the evening they sat with their mamma, watching the beautiful

sunset.

"Mamma," said Harold, "I don't think that I just understand about that

long word the minister used so much this morning--resurrection; won't

you explain it, please?"

{266}

"Well," said mamma, "it is not very easy for little folks to

understand, but I will try. I will tell you the

STORY OF THE FIRST EASTER DAY.

"You know that the enemies of Jesus crucified him as I told you, and

he died upon the cross."

"Yes," said Margaret, soberly, "I know about that. My little kittie

died. She went to sleep, and couldn't wake up any more. Poor little

kittie!"

"Yes," said mamma, "and you know that dear Grand-mamma White went to

sleep and didn't wake up, and God took her dear, beautiful soul to be

with him.

"After Jesus had suffered on the cross, he went to sleep, that sound,

sound sleep that we call death. Then they took him from the cross, and

placed his body in a tomb dug out of the rock, and rolled a great

stone before the door. His disciples and all his friends were very,

very sad, because they thought they would never see him again."

"But they did, mamma," said Harold.

"Oh, yes," said Margaret, "he wasn't truly dead."

"Ah, yes, my dears," said mamma, "he was truly dead, but after he had

lain there quietly for three days, a wonderful thing happened. He came

to life again. He came out from the tomb. He went to see his friends

and his disciples. He made them very happy. He told them that soon he

must go back to his Father in heaven, and that they must go everywhere

in all the world, telling people about him.

"Now I will read you the beautiful story of the first Easter Day, as

it is told in the Bible:--

{267}

"'Now on the first day of the week cometh Mary Magdalene early, while

it was yet dark, unto the tomb, and seeth the stone taken away from

the tomb. She runneth, therefore, and cometh to Simon Peter, and to

the other disciple, whom Jesus loved, and saith unto them, "They have

taken away the Lord out of the tomb, and we know not where they have

laid him."

"'Peter therefore went forth, and the other disciple, and they went

toward the tomb. And they both ran together: and the other disciple

outran Peter, and came first to the tomb; and stooping and looking in

he seeth the linen cloths lying, yet entered he not in. Simon Peter

therefore cometh, following him, and entered into the tomb; and he

beholdeth the linen cloths lying, and the napkin, that was upon his

head, not lying with the linen cloths, but rolled up in a place by

itself. Then entered in therefore the other disciple also, which came

first to the tomb, and he saw, and believed. For as yet they knew not

the scripture, that he must rise again from the dead. So the disciples

went away again unto their own home.

"'But Mary was standing without at the tomb weeping. So, as she wept,

she stooped and looked into the tomb; and she beholdeth two angels in

white sitting, one at the head, and one at the feet, where the body of

Jesus had lain. And they say unto her, "Woman, why weepest thou?"

"'She said unto them, "Because they have taken away my Lord, and I

know not where they have laid him."

"'When she had thus said, she turned herself back, and beholdeth Jesus

standing, and knew not that it was Jesus.

{268}

"'Jesus saith unto her, "Woman, why weepest thou? whom seekest thou?"

"'She, supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him, "Sir, if thou

hast borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will

take him away."

"'Jesus saith unto her, "Mary!"

"'She turneth herself, and saith unto him in Hebrew, "Rabboni!" which

is to say, "Master."

"'Jesus saith to her, "Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended unto my

Father and your Father, and my God and your God."

"'Mary Magdalene cometh and telleth the disciples, "I have seen the

Lord"; and how that he had said these things unto her.'"

"That is a very beautiful story, is it not?" said mamma, when she had

finished reading. "And how glad Mary and all the friends of Jesus must

have been to see him again! Now the sunset has faded, and I will sing

you an Easter hymn."

[Footnote: Tune, "The Son of God goes forth to war."]

"The terror of the night has fled,

Its shadows fade away;

The tomb wherein our Lord lay dead

Is open to the day.

"That Easter morn when He came forth,

Who gave Him greeting there?

The flowers, the birds, the radiant earth,

And all the garden fair.

{269}

"Once more the glorious day is here,

The day that saw Him rise,

When Love was victor over fear,

And glory filled the skies.

"Who comes to greet our risen King?

Not birds and flowers alone,

Our loyal hearts to Him we bring,

And worship at His throne."

{270}

THE STORY OF THE FIRST THANKSGIVING

Harold and Margaret had been hoping for a snowy Thanksgiving, and they

were very happy when, two days before Thanksgiving, the snow began to

fall in great flakes. The sun shone again on Thanksgiving morning, and

at nine o'clock the sleigh with the two dapple gray horses was ready

to take all the family to Grandpa Emerson's over the river and away

four miles across the snowy fields in the country. How they enjoyed

the ride in the fresh cold air! What a merry tune was sung by the

jingling of the sleighbells! And how happy they were after they

reached the big old farmhouse! First, of course, they were kissed and

hugged by Grandpa Emerson and Grandma Emerson. Then they went out to

the barn to see the horses and cows. Then they went sliding down the

hill behind the barn. Then they made a beautiful snow man, and by that

time they were ready for Grandma Emerson's Thanksgiving dinner. They

were to stay at the farm for a few days, and toward evening as they

sat before the roaring fire in the big fireplace they asked mamma for

a story. "I will tell you," she said,

THE STORY OF THE FIRST THANKSGIVING.

"The first settlers of New England were the Pilgrims who came across

the sea from England in the ship Mayfower."

{271}

"Oh, yes," said Harold, "I remember when we went to Plymouth and saw

the Plymouth Rock and the old houses and the monument on the hill."

"Yes," said mamma, "that is where they landed and built their log

houses. I will recite a poem which I learned when I was a girl and

went to school like Margaret."

"The breaking waves dashed high

On a stern and rockbound coast,

And the woods against a stormy sky

Their giant branches tossed;

"And the heavy night hung dark

The hills and waters o'er,

When a band of exiles moored their bark

On the wild New England shore.

"Not as the conqueror comes,

They, the true-hearted, came,

Not with the roll of the stirring drums,

And the trumpet that sings of fame;

"Not as the flying come,

In silence and in fear,--

They shook the depths of the desert gloom

With their hymns of lofty cheer.

"Amidst the storm they sang,

And the stars heard and the sea!

And the sounding aisles of the dim wood rang

To the anthem of the free!

{272}

"The ocean eagle soared

From his nest by the white wave's foam,

And the rocking pines of the forest roared--

This was their welcome home!

"There were men with hoary hair

Amidst that pilgrim band--

Why had they come to wither there

Away from their childhood's land?

"There was woman's fearless eye,

Lit by her deep love's truth;

There was manhood's brow, serenely high,

And the fiery heart of youth.

"What sought they thus afar?

Bright jewels of the mine?

The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?--

They sought a faith's pure shrine.

"Ay, call it holy ground,

The soil where first they trod!

They have left unstain'd what there they found--

Freedom to worship God!"

"Did they have a very hard time at Plymouth?" said Margaret.

"Yes, my dear," replied mamma, "a very hard time. There were little

children, and they often had to go cold and hungry. After the

Mayflower brought them to Plymouth, it had to sail away again to

England and leave them in the wilderness alone."

"There were Indians, too," said Harold.

{273}{274}

[Illustration]

THRESHING

From a photograph taken by Mrs. Louise Seymour Houghton, and used by

her kind permission.

In the East the grain is threshed by the trampling of beasts, or

sometimes, as in this picture, by a rude kind of threshing wheel.

The wheels are carried in the framework on which the man is sitting.

Sometimes a sledge with iron or stone teeth driven into the bottom

is used.

[End illustration]

{275}

"Yes," said mamma, "but they had the brave Miles Standish to protect

them. At one time, so the story goes, they were almost starving. The

winter was coming on, and they did not know what to do. So they set

apart a certain day to fast and ask God's help in their distress. I am

not sure that it is true, but we will suppose that a little girl and

boy like you had climbed the hill to gather a few sticks of wood for

the fire. We will suppose that the little girl was looking out to sea,

and suddenly she cried, 'Oh, John, what can that be, is it a sail?'

"And we will suppose that John said, 'Oh, no, Priscilla, that is

nothing but a seagull; there is no ship coming.'

"But Priscilla insisted.

"'It is, John, it is a sail.' And John looked again and cried, 'Yes!

yes! it is, it is a sail!'

"Then how they ran to the village shouting, 'A sail! a sail!' and how

the people came crowding out of the little church where they had

gathered to pray, and how happy they all were!

"I do not know whether the children caught sight of the sail first,

but it is true that on the day appointed for fast and prayer, a ship

came from England, and the fast day was turned into a day of feasting

and thanksgiving to God for his mercies. And ever after in New

England, and now all over this country, the people keep this day; a

day for feasting and joy, but a day also of humble thankfulness to God

for all his goodness to his children.

"Now, we will draw the curtains and sing a Thanksgiving hymn."

{276}

"O God, beneath Thy guiding hand

Our exiled fathers crossed the sea,

And when they trod the wintry strand

With prayer and psalm they worshiped Thee.

"Thou heard'st well pleased the song, the prayer:

Thy blessing came; and still its power

Shall onward through all ages bear

The memory of that holy hour.

"Laws, freedom, truth, and faith in God,

Came with those exiles o'er the waves.

And where their pilgrim feet have trod,

The God they trusted guards their graves.

"And here Thy name, O God of love,

Their children's children shall adore

Till these eternal hills remove,

And spring adorns the earth no more."

{277}{278}

[Illustration]

SHEEP

By Jacque

"Little lambs, so white and fair,

Are the shepherd's constant care;

Now he leads their tender feet

Into pastures green and sweet.

"Now they listen and obey,

Following where he leads the way;

Heavenly Father, may we be

Thus obedient unto Thee."

--_Selected_

[End illustration]

{279}

WHO WAS THE NEIGHBOR?

"What is that long word?" asked Harold.

"That is 'neighbor,'" said mamma. "Can you tell me what it means?"

"Oh, yes," said Harold. "It means the people who live close by. Ralph

and Elizabeth are our neighbors, because they live in the house next

door."

"Yes," said mamma, "and in the old times when people did not travel as

much as they do now, they did not know much about any except their

neighbors. The Old Testament says that you should love your neighbor.

That meant the people you meet day by day. The people of Jesus' time

said that you should love your neighbor, but you might hate your

enemy. Jesus said that was not right. Do you remember what he said

about that, Harold?"

"I know," said Margaret, "we had it in our Sunday School class last

Sunday. 'Love your enemies.'"

"Yes," said mamma, "and he once told a story about neighbors. It is

called the story of

THE GOOD SAMARITAN.

"'And, behold, a certain lawyer stood up, and tempted him, saying,

Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?

"'He said unto him, What is written in the law? How readest thou?

{280}

"'And he answering said, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy

heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all

thy mind; and thy neighbor as thyself.

"'And he said unto him, Thou hast answered right: this do, and thou

shalt live.

"'But he, willing to justify himself, said unto Jesus, And who is my

neighbor?

"'And Jesus answering said, A certain man went down from Jerusalem to

Jericho, and fell among thieves, who stripped him of his raiment, and

wounded him, and departed, leaving him half dead.

"'And by chance there came down a certain priest that way: and when he

saw him, he passed by on the other side.

"'And likewise a Levite, when he was at the place, came and looked on

him, and passed by on the other side.

"'But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and

when he saw him, he had compassion on him.

"'And went to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring in oil and wine,

and set him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn, and took care

of him.

"'And on the morrow when he departed, he took, out two pence, and gave

them to the host, and said unto him, Take care of him; and whatsoever

thou spendest more, when I come again I will repay thee.

"'Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbor unto him that

fell among thieves?

"'And he said, He that shewed mercy on him. Then said Jesus unto him,

Go, and do thou likewise.'

"What do you think that story means?" asked mamma.

{281}

"I think," said Harold, "that it means that to be neighbor to anybody

is to help him."

Margaret thought a minute. "It seems to me," she said, "that neighbors

can live a long way off, then. Our teacher said she would tell us next

Sunday how we could help poor little children in a big city five

hundred miles away. That will make us neighbors to them, won't it,

mamma?"

"Why, yes," said mamma. "So it will." Then she smiled a little and

said, "I think we have some neighbors living in China and some others

living in India."

What do you suppose mamma meant?

{282}

THE GOOD SHEPHERD

Harold and Margaret were looking at a picture of an Eastern shepherd

with his flocks.

"Mamma," said Harold, "is this our country? This man is not dressed as

men are here."

"No," said mamma, "it is a picture of a shepherd and his sheep in the

country of the Bible."

"What makes the shepherd go before the sheep, mamma?" asked Harold.

"In that country," said mamma, "the sheep are not driven, but led."

"Were sheep more plenty in the Bible land than in ours? I have never

seen many sheep," said Harold.

"Yes," answered mamma, "most of the children in the Bible land knew all

about sheep. Many of the hillsides had little white flocks of sheep on

them. They were not kept in fields with fences. They wandered about over

the open pasture lands; and so a man or a boy must be with them to watch

over them. He was called the shepherd. He took them to the best

pastures. At some seasons of the year he had to lead them a long way to

find water. He kept the bears and the wolves and the lions away. He kept

away the thieves who might come to steal the sheep. At night he drove

the sheep to a fold, or shed, or sometimes he slept with them all night

in the open air, beneath the stars.

{283}{284}

[Illustration]

AN EASTERN SHEPHERD AND HIS SHEEP

From a photograph taken by W. J. Aitchison, Esq., of Hamilton,

Canada, and used by his kind permission.

These sheep are feeding just outside Jerusalem. "All the plateaus

east of the Jordan, and the mountains of Palestine and Syria, are

pasture grounds for innumerable flocks and herds. In the spring

there is plenty of grass. Later, when the rain has ceased, the sheep

still nibble the dry herbage and stubble and flourish where, to a

western eye, all is barren desert. They require water but once a

day. The descendants of the same shepherds who tended the flocks in

Bible days still occupy the great sheep walks of Palestine"

[End illustration]

{285}

The shepherd named the sheep, and the sheep all knew him and loved

him. They would follow him, but they would not follow a stranger.

Because the people of the Bible land knew so much about the sheep and

the shepherds, the writers of the Bible said a good deal about them.

Now get the Bible and I will read you some of the things which it says

about sheep."

Margaret brought the Bible, and mamma read first what Jesus said about

himself as the good shepherd:--

"'Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that entereth not by the door

into the fold of the sheep, but climbeth up some other way, the same

is a thief and a robber. But he that entereth in by the door is the

shepherd of the sheep. To him the porter openeth; and the sheep hear

his voice: and he calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them out.

When he hath put forth all his own, he goeth before them, and the

sheep follow him, for they know his voice. And a stranger will they

not follow, but will flee from him: for they know not the voice of

strangers.'

"'Jesus said unto them again, Verily, verily, I say unto you, I am the

door of the sheep. All that came before me are thieves and robbers:

but the sheep did not hear them. I am the door: by me if any man enter

in, he shall go in and out, and shall find pasture. The thief cometh

not, but that he may steal, and kill, and destroy: I came that they

may have life, and may have it abundantly. I am the good shepherd: the

good shepherd layeth down his life for the sheep. He that is a

hireling, and not a shepherd, whose own the sheep are not, beholdeth

the wolf coming, {286} and leaveth the sheep, and fleeth, and the wolf

snatcheth them, and scattereth them: he fleeth because he is a

hireling, and careth not for the sheep. I am the good shepherd; and I

know mine own, and mine own know me, even as the Father knoweth me,

and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep.'"

"This means, my dears," said mamma, "that Jesus cares for you and for

all his children, just as a good and faithful shepherd cares for his

sheep. The good shepherd brings his sheep safely home at night, and

the porter, or keeper of the fold, opens the door and lets them in.

The sheep hear his voice, and he calls each one by name and they

follow him, but they will not follow a stranger."

"What does 'hireling' mean?" said Margaret.

"It means, dear," replied mamma, "one who is hired to care for the

sheep, but who does not know them or love them as the good shepherd

does."

"I know," said Harold; "it means that Jesus can take care of us better

than anyone else."

"Yes," said mamma, "that is just what it means. And here is another

story from the Bible, which Jesus told to show how very tenderly he

loves and cares for his little ones":--

"'Jesus said, See that ye despise not one of these little ones; for I

say unto you, that in heaven their angels do always behold the face of

my Father which is in heaven. How think ye? If any man have a hundred

sheep, and one of them be gone astray, doth he not leave the ninety

and nine, and go unto the mountains and seek that which goeth astray?

{287}{288}

[Illustration]

THE GOOD SHEPHERD

By W. C. T. Dobson

"I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd layeth down his life for

the sheep. He that is a hireling, and not a shepherd, whose own the

sheep are not, beholdeth the wolf coming, and leaveth the sheep, and

fleeth, and the wolf snatcheth them, and scattereth them: he fleeth

because he is a hireling, and careth not for his sheep. I am the

good shepherd; and I know mine own, and mine own know me, even as

the Father knoweth me, and I know the Father; and I lay down my life

for the sheep. And other sheep I have, which are not of this fold:

them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice; and they shall

become one flock, one shepherd."--_The Words of Jesus_

[End illustration]

{289}

And if so be that he find it, verily, I say unto you, he rejoiceth

over it more than over the ninety and nine which have not gone astray.

Even so it is not the will of your Father which is in heaven that one

of these little ones shall perish.'"

"In the book of the Bible called the Psalms," continued mamma, "the

twenty-third is often called the Shepherd Psalm."

"Oh, we know that psalm," said Margaret.

"Suppose," said mamma, "that one of the sheep in our picture could talk

and think like you. Would he not wish to say something about his

shepherd, very much like this psalm? The sheep would tell you how the

shepherd led him to the green pastures, and let him rest by the brooks

that flow gently through the meadows, and kept him safe in the valleys

where no wild beasts were hiding to kill him, and put out his long staff

to guide him and to help him up the steep paths of the hills. Now let us

say the psalm together."

"'The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:

He leadeth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul:

He guideth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil; for thou art with me:

Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: {290}

Thou hast anointed my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:

And I will dwell in the House of the Lord for ever.'"

"Mamma," said Harold, "sheep don't eat at tables, or have cups."

"No," said mamma, smiling, "that shows us that, after all, this psalm

is about a man, and not about a sheep. It means that when troubles and

dangers are all about us God still gives all that we need. Sometime

that will mean a great deal more to you than it does now."

"I don't understand," said Margaret, "about anointing the head with

oil, and dwelling in the house of the Lord."

"In the Bible land," said mamma, "when a man wished to honor a guest

whom he had invited to a feast, he poured out a little sweet-smelling

oil upon his head. The psalm means that God makes his people, even

when they are in the midst of danger, feel as happy as though they

were honored guests at a feast. To dwell in the house of the Lord

forever means that we are to feel always perfectly secure, as though

we were living in God's own house, where nothing could ever harm us."

Harold thought a moment, and then he said, "I think that I know what

all the stories about sheep in the Bible mean. They mean that people

are like sheep, and they can't take care of themselves, but that God

loves them very much, and that he will always take care of them."

"Yes, that is just it," said mamma, "and now! as it is {291} growing

dark, let us sing that song which is the twenty-third psalm put into

different words."

"The Lord is my shepherd; no want shall I know;

I feed in green pastures, safe-folded I rest;

He leadeth my soul where the still waters flow,

Restores me when wandering, redeems when oppressed.

"Through the valley and shadow of death though I stray,

Since Thou art my guardian, no evil I fear;

Thy rod shall defend me, Thy staff be my stay;

No harm can befall, with my Comforter near.

"In the midst of affliction my table is spread;

With blessings unmeasured my cup runneth o'er;

With perfume and oil Thou anointest my head;

O what shall I ask of Thy providence more?

"Let goodness and mercy, my bountiful God,

Still follow my steps till I meet Thee above;

I seek, by the path which my forefathers trod

Through the land of their sojourn, Thy kingdom of love."

{292}

LITTLE BROTHERS OF THE AIR AND FIELDS

Margaret and Harold had learned to be kind to animals. They belonged

to a "Band of Mercy," a company of boys and girls who were pledged

never to be unkind to any dumb creature, and to rescue any poor beast

who might be in distress or suffering cruel treatment. They had many

chances to help poor dogs and cats which were being persecuted by

cruel boys. One day they came home from school and told about a poor

little kitten which they had protected when it was almost dead from

fright. "That was very kind," said mamma, "and to-night I will read

you some stories and poems about kindness to animals which I have been

saving. Margaret and Harold played with their dog Sport and their big

cat Spot until supper time. After supper they were ready for the

stories and poems.

"Once upon a time," said mamma, "there lived a very good man who came

to be known as St. Francis of Assisi. He was very kind to all birds

and animals. He called the birds 'little brothers of the air' and the

animals 'little brothers of the field and woods.' These stories are

told about him:--

"'Once, full of joy, he was going on his way when, perceiving some

flocks of birds, he turned aside a little from the road to go to them.

Far from taking flight, they flocked around him as if to bid him

welcome.

{293}{294}

[Illustration]

HEAD OF DOG

[End illustration]

{295}

"Brother birds," he said to them, "you ought to praise and love your

Creator very much. He has given you feathers for clothing, wings for

flying, and all that is needful for you. He has made you the noblest

of his creatures; he permits you to live in the pure air; you have

neither to sow nor to reap, and yet he takes care of you, watches over

you and guides you." Then the birds began to arch their necks, to

spread out their wings, to open their beaks, to look at him, as if to

thank him, while he went up and down in their midst stroking them with

the border of his tunic, sending them away at last with his blessing.'

"'In this same tour, passing through Alviano, he began to preach to

the people, but the swallows so filled the air with their chirping

that he could not make himself heard. "It is my turn to speak," he

said to them; "little swallow sisters, hearken to the word of God;

keep silent and be very quiet until I have finished.'"

"'At Rieti a family of redbreasts were the guests of the monastery,

and the young birds made marauding expeditions on the very table where

the Brothers were eating. Not far from there, at Greccio, at another

time, they brought to Francis a little rabbit that had been taken

alive in a trap. "Come to me, Brother Rabbit," he said to it. And as

the poor creature, being set free, ran to him for refuge, he took it

up, caressed it, and finally put it on the ground that it might run

away; but it returned to him again and again, so that he was obliged

to send it to the neighboring forest before it would consent to return

to freedom.'

{296}

"'One day he was crossing the Lake of Rieti. The boatman in whose bark

he was making the passage offered him a fish of uncommon size. Francis

accepted it with joy, but, to the great amazement of the fisherman,

put it back into the water, bidding it bless God.'

"Here is a story which I once read about a very good and distinguished

man who tells how he learned when he was a boy not to kill even the

smallest animal needlessly.

"'I saw one day a little spotted turtle sunning itself in the shallow

water, and I lifted the stick in my hand to kill it, for, though I had

never killed any creature, I had seen other boys kill birds, squirrels,

and the like, and I had a disposition to follow their wicked example;

but all at once something checked my little arm, and a voice within me

said, clear and loud, "It is wrong," and so I held my uplifted stick

until the turtle vanished from my sight. Then I went home and told my

mother, and asked her what it was that told me it was wrong. She wiped a

tear from her eye, and took me in her arms, and said: "Some call it

conscience, but I call it the voice of God in the human soul. If you

listen to it and obey it, then it will speak clearer and clearer, and

always guide you right. But if you do not listen to it, or disobey it,

then it will fade out, little by little, and leave you in the dark

without a guide. Your life, my child, depends on heeding that little

voice."'

"And here are some poems which teach us to be gentle and kind to the

dumb animals who depend upon us for life and look to us for mercy. The

poet Cowper says:--

{297}{298}

[Illustration]

BOY AND DOG

By Blume

[End illustration]

{299}

"'I would not enter on my list of friends,

Though graced with polished manners and fine sense,

Yet wanting sensibility, the man

Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.'

"Coleridge in a great poem, 'The Ancient Mariner,'

which I will read to you when you are a little older, says:--

"'He prayeth well who loveth well

Both man and bird and beast.

"'He prayeth best who loveth best

All things, both great and small;

For the dear God who loveth us,

He made and loveth all.'

"And here are two verses whose author I do not know:--

"'Maker of earth, and sea, and sky,

Creation's Sovereign Lord and King;

Who hung the starry worlds on high

And formed alike the sparrow's wing:

Bless the dumb creatures of Thy care,

And listen to their voiceless prayer.

"'All-Father! who on Mercy's throne

Hear'st Thy dumb creatures' faintest moan,--

Thy love be ours, and ours shall be

Returned in deeds to these and Thee.'

"There is a poem by John Ruskin which speaks of that

good time coming when cruelty shall cease and terrible

wars shall be no more."

{300}

A SONG OF PEACE.

"'Put off, put off your mail, ye kings, and beat your brands to dust;

A surer grasp your hands must know, your hearts a better trust.

Nay, bend aback the lance's point, and break the helmet bar,

A noise is in the morning winds, but not the note of war!

"'Among the grassy mountain paths the glittering troops increase;

They come! they come! how fair their feet--they come that publish peace.

Yea, Victory, fair Victory, our enemies are ours,

And all the clouds are clasped in light, and all the earth with flowers.

"'Ah! still depressed and dim with dew, but wait a little while,

And radiant with the deathless rose the wilderness shall smile,

And every tender, living thing shall feed by streams of rest,

Nor lamb shall from the fold be lost, nor nursling from the nest.'"

"That reminds us of what the prophet said about the time when all the

beasts even shall lose their cruel traits and live at peace with each

other, and even play with little children."

"Could that ever be true, mamma?" interrupted Harold.

{301}{302}

[Illustration]

ON GUARD

[End illustration]

{303}

"Well, even now, my dear," replied mamma, "wild and fierce animals

have been wholly tamed by kindness. We cannot tell what beautiful

things might happen if all evil and unkindness should be driven from

the world and men should live as Christ taught us to live.

"Here are the prophet's words: 'And the wolf shall dwell with the

lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and

the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall

lead them. And the cow and the bear shall feed; their young ones

shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. And

the sucking child shall play on the hole of the asp, and the weaned

child shall put his hand on the adder's den. They shall not hurt nor

destroy in all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be full of the

knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea.'

"These verses are from the Psalms and the Proverbs:--

"'For every beast of the forest is mine, and the cattle upon a

thousand hills.

"'I know all the fowls of the mountains: and the wild beasts of the

field are mine.'

"'The merciful man doeth good to his own soul; but he that is cruel

troubleth his own flesh.'

"'A righteous man regardeth the life of his beast; but the tender

mercies of the wicked are cruel.'

"And here are some of the words of Jesus about animals and birds

and about kindness:--

{304}

"'Be ye therefore merciful, as your Father also is merciful.'

"'Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.'

"'The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the

Son of man hath not where to lay his head.'

"'Therefore I say unto you, Be not anxious for your life, what ye

shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye

shall put on. Is not the life more than the food, and the body than

the raiment? Behold the birds of the heavens, that they sow not,

neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; and your Heavenly

Father feedeth them. Are ye not of much more value than they?'

"'Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and not one of them

shall fall on the ground without your Father; but the very hairs of

your head are all numbered.'"

"And now it is late and my little lambs must go to their beds. I am

sure that you both will be kind in every way to your little brothers

of the air and the woods and fields, and your little dumb brothers

in the streets of the city."

{305}

SHEPHERD HYMNS

{306}

{307} {308}

[Illustration]

THE GOOD SHEPHERD

By Bernard Plockhorst (1825- )

"Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that entereth not by the door

into the fold of the sheep, but climbeth up some other way, the same

is a thief and a robber. But he that entereth in by the door is the

shepherd of the sheep. To him the porter openeth; and the sheep hear

his voice: and he calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them

out. When he hath put forth all his own, he goeth before them, and

the sheep follow him: for they know his voice. And a stranger will

they not follow, but will flee from him: for they know not the voice

of strangers."--_The Words of Jesus_

[End illustration]

{309}

SAVIOUR, LIKE A SHEPHERD LEAD US

Saviour, like a shepherd lead us,

Much we need Thy tenderest care;

In Thy pleasant pastures feed us,

For our use Thy folds prepare;

Blessed Jesus,

Thou hast bought us, Thine we are.

We are Thine, do Thou befriend us,

Be the guardian of our way;

Keep Thy flock, from sin defend us,

Seek us when we go astray;

Blessed Jesus,

Hear the children when they pray.

Early let us seek Thy favor,

Early let us do Thy will;

Holy Lord, our only Saviour,

With Thy grace our bosoms fill;

Blessed Jesus,

Thou hast loved us, love us still.

--_Dorothy Ann Thrupp_.

{310}

WAS THERE EVER KINDEST SHEPHERD?

Was there ever kindest shepherd

Half so gentle, half so sweet

As the Saviour, who would have us

Come and gather round His feet?

There's a wideness in God's mercy,

Like the wideness of the sea;

There's a kindness in His justice,

Which is more than liberty.

For the love of God is broader

Than the measure of man's mind;

And the heart of the Eternal

Is most wonderfully kind.

If our love were but more simple,

We should take Him at His word;

And our lives would be all sunshine

In the sweetness of our Lord.

--_Frederick William Faber_

{311}{312}

[Illustration]

THE LOST LAMB FOUND

By P. Giradet

Sometimes in winter the sheep suffer greatly from the cold and heavy

snowstorms. This is a description of sheep covered by the snow in

winter:--

"The flock was buried Beneath a great white billow as high as a barn

and as broad as a house. This great drift was rolling and curling

beneath the violent blast, tufting and combing with rustling swirls,

and carved as if patterns of cornice where the grooving-chisel of

the wind swept round. Ever and again the tempest snatched little

whiffs from the channeled edges, twirled them round and made them

dance over the chine of the monster pile, then let them lie like

herringbones or the seams of the sand where the tide has been. And

all the while, from the smothery sky, more and more fiercely at

every blast, came the pelting pitiless arrows winged with murky

white and pointed with the barbs of the frost."--_Blackmore_

[End illustration]

{313}

GRACIOUS SAVIOUR, HOLY SHEPHERD

Gracious Saviour, holy Shepherd,

Little ones are dear to Thee;

Gathered with Thine arms, and carried

In Thy bosom, may they be

Sweetly, fondly, safely tended,

From all want and danger free.

Let Thy holy words instruct them;

Fill their minds with heavenly light;

Let Thy love and grace constrain them

To approve whate'er is right;

Let them feel Thy yoke is easy,

Let them prove Thy burden light.

Taught to lisp Thy holy praises

Which on earth Thy children sing,

With both lips and hearts, unfeigned,

Glad thank-offering may they bring;

Then with all Thy saints in glory

Join to praise their Lord and King.

--_Jane E. Leeson and J. Whittemore_.

{314}

IN HEAVENLY LOVE ABIDING

In heavenly love abiding,

No change my heart shall fear,

And safe is such confiding,

For nothing changes here.

The storm may roar without me,

My heart may low be laid;

But God is round about me,

And can I be dismayed?

Wherever He may guide me,

No want shall turn me back;

My Shepherd is beside me,

And nothing can I lack.

His wisdom ever waketh,

His sight is never dim,

He knows the way He taketh,

And I will walk with Him.

Green pastures are before me,

Which yet I have not seen;

Bright skies will soon be o'er me,

Where darkest clouds have been.

My hope I cannot measure,

My path to life is free;

My Saviour has my treasure,

And He will walk with me.

--_Anna L. Waring_.

{315}

THE KING OF LOVE

The King of love my Shepherd is,

Whose goodness faileth never;

I nothing lack if I am His,

And He is mine forever.

Where streams of living water flow

My ransomed soul He leadeth,

And where the verdant pastures grow,

With food celestial feedeth.

Perverse and foolish oft I strayed,

But yet in love He sought me,

And on His shoulder gently laid,

And home, rejoicing, brought me.

In death's dark vale I fear no ill

With Thee, dear Lord, beside me;

Thy rod and staff my comfort still,

Thy cross before to guide me.

And so, through all the length of days

Thy goodness faileth never;

Good Shepherd, may I sing Thy praise

Within Thy house forever.

--_Sir H. W. Baker_.

{316}

{317}

PRAYERS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN

{318}

{319}

PRAYERS FOR LITTLE CHILDREN

Our Father which art in heaven,

Hallowed be Thy name.

Thy kingdom come.

Thy will be done, as in heaven, so on earth.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever.

AMEN.

Jesus, take this heart of mine,

Make it pure, and only Thine.

I Thy little child would be,

Help me, Lord, to live for Thee. AMEN.

I thank Thee, Lord, for quiet rest,

And for Thy care of me;

Oh, let me through this day be blest,

And kept from harm by Thee.

Oh, let me thank Thee, kind Thou art

To children such as I,

Give me a gentle, loving heart;

Be Thou my friend on high. AMEN.

--_Beginner's Reading Book_.

Dear Lord, for these three things I pray:

To know Thee more clearly,

To love Thee more dearly,

To follow Thee more nearly.

Every day. AMEN.

{320}

Father in heaven, help Thy little children

To love and serve Thee throughout this day.

Help us to be truthful, help us to be kindly,

That we may please Thee in all we do or say.

Dear Lord, we pray Thee, keep Thy little children

From doing wrong throughout this happy day.

Hear our morning promises. Father, help us keep them,

That we may please Thee in all we do or say. AMEN.

For Jesus Christ, the children's friend,

We thank Thee, heavenly Father.

For Jesus Christ, who keeps us to the end,

We thank Thee, heavenly Father. AMEN.

Father, we thank Thee for the night,

And for the pleasant morning light;

For rest and food and loving care,

And all that makes the day so fair.

Help us to do the things we should,

To be to others kind and good;

In all we do in work or play,

To grow more loving every day. AMEN.

Dear Lord, we thank Thee for Thy care,

And all Thy mercy sends;

For food we eat, the clothes we wear,

Our health and home and friends. AMEN.

{321}{322}

[Illustration]

THE SOUL'S AWAKENING

By James Sant (1820- )

"Can a little child like me,

Thank the Father fittingly?

Yes, oh, yes,--be good and true,

Patient, kind in all you do,

Love the Lord and do your part,

Learn to say with all your heart,--

Father, we thank Thee;

Father in heaven, we thank Thee."

--_Mary Mapes Dodge_

[End illustration]

{323}

Loving Jesus, meek and mild,

Look upon a little child.

Make me gentle as Thou art,

Come and live within my heart.

Take my childish hand in Thine,

Guide these little feet of mine,

And the world shall ever see

Christ, the holy child, in me. AMEN.

Lord, though Thy home is in the sky,

Thou art not far away;

Thou lookest down with loving eye

When little children pray.

We thank Thee for Thy tender care,

And for Thy precious love,

For all the beauty Thou hast made

Of earth and heaven above. AMEN.

Jesus, tender Shepherd, hear me;

Bless Thy little lamb to-night.

Through the darkness be Thou near me;

Keep me safe till morning light.

All this day Thy hand has led me,

And I thank Thee for Thy care;

Thou hast warmed me, clothed and fed me,

Listen to my evening prayer.

Let my sins be all forgiven,

Bless the friends I love so well;

Take us all at last to heaven,

Happy there with Thee to dwell. AMEN.

{324}

My Father in heaven, I thank Thee for my many blessings. I love Thee

very much. Help me to love Thee more and to obey Thee better. Forgive

all my sins, I pray Thee. Give me good thoughts. Give me

understanding. Bless all my friends and keep them and me, both now and

forever. AMEN.

--_By courtesy of the Clarke School, Northampton, Mass_.

A CHILD'S GRACE

Some hae meat and canna eat,

And some wad eat that want it;

But we hae meat and we can eat,

And sae the Lord be thankit. AMEN.

--_Robert Burns_.

GRACE FOR A CHILD

Here, a little child, I stand,

Heaving up my either hand;

Cold as paddocks though they be,

Here I lift them up to Thee,

For a benison to fall

On our meat and on us all. AMEN.

--_Robert Herrick_.

{325}

OLD TIME VERSES FOR LITTLE CHILDREN

{326}

{327}

AGAINST IDLENESS AND MISCHIEF

How doth the little busy bee

Improve each shining hour,

And gather honey all the day

From every opening flower!

How skillfully she builds her cell!

How neat she spreads the wax!

And labors hard to store it well.

With the sweet food she makes.

In works of labor or of skill

I would be busy, too:

For Satan finds some mischief still

For idle hands to do.

In books, or work, or healthful play,

Let my first years be pass'd;

That I may give for every day

Some good account at last.

--_Isaac Watts_.

{328}

AGAINST PRIDE IN CLOTHES

How proud we are! how fond to show

Our clothes, and call them rich and new,

When the poor sheep and silkworm wore

That very clothing long before.

The tulip and the butterfly

Appear in gayer coats than I;

Let me be dress'd fine as I will,

Flies, worms, and flowers exceed me still.

Then will I set my heart to find

Inward adornings of the mind;

Knowledge and virtue, truth and grace!

These are the robes of richest dress.

No more shall worms with me compare,

This is the raiment angels wear;

The Son of God, when here below,

Put on this best apparel, too.

It never fades, it ne'er grows old,

Nor fears the rain, nor moth, nor mould;

It takes no spot, but still refines;

The more 't is worn the more it shines.

In this on earth would I appear,

Then go to heaven and wear it there;

God will approve it in His sight,

'Tis His own work and His delight.

--_Isaac Watts_.

{329}

THE ANT, OR EMMET

These emmets, how little they are in our eyes!

We tread them to dust, and a troop of them dies,

Without our regard or concern;

Yet, as wise as we are, if we went to their school,

There's many a sluggard and many a fool

Some lessons of wisdom might learn.

They wear not their time out in sleeping or play,

But gather up corn in a sunshiny day,

And for winter they lay up their stores;

They manage their work in such regular forms

One would think they foresaw all the frosts and the storms,

And so brought their food within doors.

But I have less sense than a poor creeping ant

If I take not due care for the things I shall want,

Nor provide against dangers in time;

When death or old age shall once stare in my face,

What a wretch shall I be in the end of my days

If I trifle a way all their prime!

Now, while my strength and my youth are in bloom,

Let me think what shall serve me when sickness shall come,

And pray that my sins be forgiven;

Let me read in good books, and believe, and obey,

That, when death turns me out of this cottage of clay,

I may dwell in a palace in heaven.

--_Isaac Watts_.

{330}

A MORNING SONG

My God, who makes the sun to know

His proper hour to rise,

And, to give light to all below,

Doth send him round the skies.

When from the chambers of the east

His morning race begins,

He never tires, nor stops to rest,

But round the world he shines.

So, like the sun, would I fulfill

The business of the day;

Begin my work betimes, and still

March on my heavenly way.

Give me, O Lord, Thine early grace,

Nor let my soul complain,

That the young morning of my days

Has all been spent in vain.

--_Isaac Watts_.

{331}{332}

[Illustration]

MADONNA OF THE ANGELS

By Adolph Bouguereau (1825-1905)

"The mother with the Child,

Whose tender winning arts

Have to His little arms beguiled

So many wounded hearts."

--_Matthew Arnold_

[End illustration]

{333}

AN EVENING SONG

And now another day is gone,

I'll sing my Maker's praise;

My comforts every hour make known

His providence and grace.

But how my childhood runs to waste!

My sins, how great their sum!

Lord, give me pardon for the past,

And strength for days to come.

I lay my body down to sleep,

Let angels guard my head;

And, through the hours of darkness, keep

Their watch around my bed.

With cheerful heart I close my eyes,

Since Thou wilt not remove;

And in the morning let me rise,

Rejoicing in Thy love.

--_Isaac Watts_.

{334}

THE SLUGGARD

'T is the voice of the Sluggard: I heard him complain,

"You have waked me too soon! I must slumber again!"

As a door on its hinges, so he on his bed

Turns his sides, and his shoulders, and his heavy head.

"A little more sleep and a little more slumber!"

Thus he wastes half his days and his hours without number;

And when he gets up he sits folding his hands,

Or walks about sauntering, or trifling he stands.

I pass'd by his garden and saw the wild brier,

The thorn and the thistle grow broader and higher;

The clothes that hang on him are turning to rags,

And his money still wastes, till he starves or he begs.

I made him a visit, still hoping to find

He had took better care for improving his mind:

He told me his dreams, talked of eating and drinking;

But he scarce reads his Bible, and never loves thinking.

Said I then to my heart, "Here's a lesson for me!

That man's but a picture of what I might be;

But thanks to my friends for their care in my breeding,

Who have taught me betimes to love working and reading."

--_Isaac Watts_.

{335}{336}

[Illustration]

THE DIVINE SHEPHERD

By Murillo (1618-1682)

[End illustration]

{337}

PRAISE FOR MERCIES, SPIRITUAL AND TEMPORAL

Whene'er I take my walks abroad,

How many poor I see!

What shall I render to the Lord

For all His gifts to me!

Not more than others I deserve,

Yet God hath given me more;

For I have food, while others starve,

Or beg from door to door.

How many children in the street

Half naked I behold!

While I am clothed from head to feet

And cover'd from the cold.

While some poor wretches scarce can tell

Where they may lay their head,

I have a home wherein to dwell,

And rest upon my bed.

While others early learn to swear,

And curse, and lie, and steal;

Lord, I am taught Thy name to fear,

And do Thy holy will.

Are these Thy favors, day by day,

To me above the rest?

Then let me love Thee more than they,

And try to serve Thee best.

--_Isaac Watts_.

{338}

THE ROSE

How fair is the Rose! What a beautiful flower!

The glory of April and May;

But the leaves are beginning to fade in an hour,

And they wither and die in a day.

Yet the Rose has one powerful virtue to boast,

Above all the flowers of the field!

When its leaves are all dead and fine colors are lost,

Still how sweet a perfume it will yield!

So frail is the youth and the beauty of man,

Though they bloom and look gay like the Rose;

But all our fond care to preserve them is vain,

Time kills them as fast as he goes.

Then I'll not be proud of my youth and my beauty,

Since both of them wither and fade;

But gain a good name by well doing my duty:

This will scent like a rose when I'm dead.

--_Isaac Watts_.

{339}{340}

[Illustration]

MADONNA AND CHILD

By Carlo Dolci (1616-1686)

[End illustration]

{341}

PRAISE FOR CREATION AND PROVIDENCE

I sing th' Almighty power of God,

That made the mountains rise,

That spread the flowing seas abroad,

And built the lofty skies.

I sing the wisdom that ordain'd

The sun to rule the day;

The moon shines full at His command,

And all the stars obey.

I sing the goodness of the Lord,

That fill'd the earth with food;

He formed the creatures with His word,

And then pronounced them good.

Lord, how Thy wonders are display'd

Where'er I turn mine eye!

If I survey the ground I tread,

Or gaze upon the sky!

There's not a plant or flower below

But makes Thy glories known:

And clouds arise, and tempests blow,

By order from Thy throne.

Creatures (as numerous as they be)

Are subject to Thy care:

There's not a place where we can flee,

But God is present there.

--_Isaac Watts_.

{342}

A GENERAL SONG OF PRAISE TO GOD

How glorious is our heavenly King,

Who reigns above the sky!

How shall a child presume to sing

His dreadful majesty?

How great His power is none can tell,

Nor think how large His grace:

Not men below, nor saints that dwell

On high before His face.

Not angels, that stand round the Lord,

Can search His secret will;

But they perform His heavenly word,

And sing His praises still.

Then let me join this holy tram,

And my first offerings bring;

The eternal God will not disdain

To hear an infant sing.

My heart resolves, my tongue obeys,

And angels shall rejoice,

To hear their mighty Maker's praise

Sound from a feeble voice.

--_Isaac Watts_.

{343}

INNOCENT PLAY

Abroad in the meadows, to see the young lambs

Run sporting about by the side of their dams,

With fleeces so clean and so white;

Or a nest of young doves in a large open cage,

When they play all in love, without anger or rage,

How much we may learn from the sight!

If we had been ducks, we might dabble in mud;

Or dogs, we might play till it ended in blood:

So foul and so fierce are their natures;

But Thomas and William, and such pretty names,

Should be cleanly and harmless as doves or as lambs,

Those lovely, sweet innocent creatures.

Not a thing that we do, nor a word that we say,

Should injure another in jesting or play,

For he's still in earnest that's hurt:

How rude are the boys that throw pebbles and mire;

There's none but a madman will fling about fire,

And tell you, "'T is all but in sport!"

--_Isaac Watts_.

{344}

AGAINST QUARRELING AND FIGHTING

Let dogs delight to bark and bite,

For God hath made them so;

Let bears and lions growl and fight,

For 't is their nature, too:

But, children, you should never let

Such angry passions rise;

Your little hands were never made

To tear each other's eyes.

Let love through all your actions run,

And all your words be mild;

Live like the blessed Virgin's Son,

That sweet and lovely Child.

His soul was gentle as a lamb;

And as His stature grew,

He grew in favor both with man

And God, His Father, too.

Now, Lord of all, He reigns above,

And from His heavenly throne

He sees what children dwell in love,

And marks them for His own.

--_Isaac Watts_.

{345}

LOVE BETWEEN BROTHERS AND SISTERS

Whatever brawls disturb the street,

There should be peace at home;

Where sisters dwell and brothers meet,

Quarrels should never come.

Birds in their little nests agree,

And 't is a shameful sight,

When children of one family

Fall out, and chide, and fight.

Hard names at first, and threatening words

That are but noisy breath,

May grow to clubs and naked swords,

To murder and to death.

The devil tempts one mother's son

To rage against another;

So wicked Cain was hurried on

Till he had killed his brother.

The wise will make their anger cool,

At least before 't is night;

But in the bosom of a fool

It burns till morning light.

Pardon, O Lord, our childish rage,

Our little brawls remove;

That, as we grow to riper age,

Our hearts may all be love.

--_Isaac Watts_.

{346}

A SUMMER EVENING

How fine has the day been! How bright was the sun!

How lovely and joyful the course that he run;

Though he rose in a mist when his race he begun,

And there follow'd some droppings of rain:

But now the fair traveler's come to the West,

His rays are all gold, and his beauties are best;

He paints the skies gay as he sinks to his rest,

And foretells a bright rising again.

Just such is the Christian. His course he begins,

Like the sun in the mist, when he mourns for his sins,

And melts into tears; then he breaks out and shines,

And travels his heavenly way:

But when he comes nearer to finish his race

Like a fine setting sun, he looks richer in grace,

And gives a sure hope, at the end of his days,

Of rising in brighter array.

--_Isaac Watts_.

{347}{348}

[Illustration]

THE PITTI MADONNA

By Murillo (1618-1682)

"The Pitti Madonna is one of this sweet company, and perhaps the

loveliest of them all. Both she and her beautiful boy are full of

gentle earnestness, and if they are too simple-minded to realize

what is in store for them, they are none the less ready to do the

Father's will."--_Hurll_

[End illustration]

{349}

SUMMER

The heats of Summer come hastily on,

The fruits are transparent and clear;

The buds and the blossoms of April are gone,

And the deep colored cherries appear.

The blue sky above us is bright and serene,

No cloud on its bosom remains;

The woods and the fields and the hedges are green,

And the haycock smells sweet from the plains.

But, hark! from the woodlands what sound do I hear?

The voices of pleasure so gay;

The merry young haymakers cheerfully bear

The heat of the hot summer's day.

While some with bright scythe, singing shrill to the tone,

The tall grass and buttercups mow,

Some spread it with rakes, and by others 't is thrown

Into sweet smelling cocks in a row.

Then since joy and glee with activity join,

This moment to labor I'll rise;

While the idle love best in the shade to recline,

And waste precious time as it flies.

--_Jane Taylor_,

{350}

[Illustration]

Music for "The Star"

[End illustration]

{351}

THE STAR

Twinkle, twinkle, little star

How I wonder what you are!

Up above the world so high,

Like a diamond in the sky.

When the blazing sun is gone,

When he nothing shines upon,

Then you show your little light,

Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.

Then the traveler in the dark

Thanks you for your tiny spark.

He could not see which way to go,

If you did not twinkle so.

In the dark blue sky you keep,

And often through my curtains peep;

For you never shut your eye

Till the sun is in the sky.

As your bright and tiny spark

Lights the traveler in the dark,

Though I know not what you are,

Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

--_Jane Taylor_.

{352}

THE FLOWER AND THE LADY,

ABOUT GETTING UP

Pretty flower, tell me why

All your leaves do open wide,

Every morning, when on high

The noble sun begins to ride.

This is why, my lady fair,

If you would the reason know,

For betimes the pleasant air

Very cheerfully doth blow.

And the birds on every tree

Sing a merry, merry tune,

And the busy honey bee

Comes to suck my sugar soon.

This is, then, the reason why

I my little leaves undo.

Little lady, wake and try

If I have not told you true.

--_Jane Taylor_.

{353}

THE FIELD DAISY

I'm a pretty little thing,

Always coming with the spring.

In the meadows green I'm found,

Peeping just above the ground;

And my stalk is covered flat

With a white and yellow hat.

Little Mary, when you pass

Lightly o'er the tender grass,

Skip about, but do not tread

On my bright but lowly head;

For I always seem to say,

"Surely winter's gone away."

--_Jane Taylor_.

{354}

THE LITTLE CHILD

I'm a very little child,

Only just have learned to speak;

So I should be very mild,

Very tractable and meek.

If my dear mamma were gone,

Oh, I think that I should die,

When she left me all alone,

Such a little thing as I.

Now what service can I do,

To repay her for her care?

For I cannot even sew,

Nor make anything I wear.

Well, then, I will always try

To be very good and mild;

Never now be cross or cry,

Like a fretful little child.

How unkind it is to fret,

And my dear mamma to tease,

When my lesson I should get,

Sitting still upon her knees!

Oh, how can I serve her so,

Such a good mamma as this?

Round her neck my arms I'll throw,

And her gentle cheek I'll kiss.

Then I'll tell her that I will

Try not any more to fret her,

And as I grow older still,

Try to show I love her better.

--_Jane Taylor_.

{355}{356}

[Illustration]

THE "GRANDUCA MADONNA"

By Raphael

"Around the mighty master came

The marvels which his pencil wrought,

Those miracles of power, whose fame

Is wide as human thought.

"There drooped thy more than mortal face,

O Mother, beautiful and mild!

Enfolding in one dear embrace

Thy Saviour and thy Child!"

--_John Greenleaf Whittier_

[End illustration]

{357}

GOING TO BED

The moon is up, the sun is gone,

Now nothing here he shines upon;

The pretty birds are in their nest,

The cows are lying down to rest,

Or wait, beneath the farmer's shed,

To hear the merry milkmaid's tread.

The pleasant flowers that opened wide,

And smelt so sweet at morning-tide,

Fold up their leaves, as if to say,

"Good-by, we'll come another day;

And now, dear little lady, you

Must sleep, as we shall seem to do."

Yes,--here's my pretty bed, and I

Will kiss mamma, and say "by, by!"

So nice and warm, so smooth and white,

So comfortable all the night!

And when my little prayer is said,

How could I cry to go to bed?

--_Jane Taylor_.

{358}

TIME TO GET UP

The cock, who soundly sleeps at night,

Rises with the morning light;

Very loud and shrill he crows;

Then the sleeping ploughman knows

He must rise and hasten, too,

All his morning work to do.

And the little lark does fly

To the middle of the sky.

You may hear his merry tune,

In the morning very soon;

For he does not like to rest

Idly in his downy nest.

While the cock is crowing shrill,

Leave my little bed I will,

And I'll rise to hear the lark,

Now it is no longer dark.

'T would be a pity there to stay,

When 't is bright and pleasant day.

--_Jane Taylor_.

{359}

THE SNOWDROP

Now the spring is coming on,

Now the snow and ice are gone,

Come, my little snowdrop root,

Will you not begin to shoot?

Ah! I see your pretty head

Peeping on the flower bed,

Looking all so green and gay

On this fine and pleasant day.

For the mild south wind doth blow,

And hath melted all the snow,

And the sun shines out so warm,

You need not fear another storm.

So come up, you pretty thing,

Just to tell us it is spring,

Hanging down your modest head

On my pleasant flower bed.

--_Jane Taylor_.

{360}

[Illustration]

Music for "Getting Up"

[End illustration]

{361}

GETTING UP

Now, my baby, ope your eye,

For the sun is in the sky,

And he's peeping once again

Through the frosty windowpane.

Little baby, do not keep

Any longer fast asleep.

There now, sit in mother's lap,

That she may untie your cap;

For the little strings have got

Twisted into such a knot.

Yes, you know you've been at play

With the bobbin as your lay.

There it comes, now let us see

Where your petticoats can be;

Oh, they're in the window seat,

Folded very smooth and neat;

When my baby older grows

She shall double up her clothes.

Now one pretty little kiss,

For dressing you so nice as this.

But before we go downstairs,

Don't forget to say your prayers,

For 't is God who loves to keep

Little babies fast asleep.

--_Jane Taylor_.

{362}

A FINE THING

Who am I with noble face,

Shining in a clear blue place?

If to look at me you try,

I shall blind your little eye.

When my noble face I show,

Over yonder mountain blue,

All the clouds away do ride,

And the dusky night beside.

Then the clear wet dews I dry

With the look of my bright eye;

And the little birds awake,

Many a merry tune to make.

Cowslips, then, and harebells blue,

And lily-cups their leaves undo;

For they shut themselves up tight,

All the dark and foggy night.

Then the busy people go,

Some to plow, and some to sow;

When I leave, their work is done,

Guess if I am not the Sun.

--_Jane Taylor_.

{363}{364}

[Illustration]

MADONNA AND CHILD

By Georg Papperitz

[End illustration]

{365}

A PRETTY THING

Who am I that shines so bright

With my pretty yellow light,

Peeping through your curtains gray?

Tell me, little girl, I pray.

When the sun is gone, I rise

In the very silent skies;

And a cloud or two doth skim

Round about my silver rim.

All the little stars do seem

Hidden by my brighter beam;

And among them I do ride,

Like a queen in all her pride.

Then the reaper goes along,

Singing forth a merry song,

While I light the shaking leaves

And the yellow harvest sheaves.

Little girl, consider well,

Who this simple tale doth tell;

And I think you'll guess it soon,

For I only am the Moon.

--_Ann Taylor_.

{366}

THE SHEEP

Lazy sheep, pray tell me why

In the pleasant fields you lie,

Eating grass or daisies white,

From the morning till the night?

Everything can something do,

But what kind of use are you?

Nay, my little master, nay,

Do not serve me so, I pray.

Don't you see the wool that grows

On my back to make your clothes?

Cold, and very cold you'd be,

If you had not wool from me.

True, it seems a pleasant thing

To nip the daisies in the spring;

But many chilly nights I pass

On the cold and dewy grass,

Or pick a scanty dinner where

All the common's brown and bare.

Then the farmer comes at last,

When the merry spring is past,

And cuts my woolly coat away,

To warm you in the winter's day.

Little master, this is why

In the pleasant fields I lie.

--_Jane Taylor_.

{367}{368}

[Illustration]

THE WOUNDED LAMB

By Von Bremen

"How think ye? if any man have a hundred sheep, and one of them be

gone astray, doth he not leave the ninety and nine, and go unto the

mountains, and seek that which goeth astray? And if so be that he

find it, verily I say unto you, he rejoiceth over it more than over

the ninety and nine which have not gone astray. Even so it is not

the will of your Father who is in heaven, that one of these little

ones should perish."--_The Words of Jesus_

[End illustration]

{369}

THE COW

Thank you, pretty cow, that made

Pleasant milk to soak my bread,

Every day, and every night,

Warm, and fresh, and sweet, and white.

Do not chew the hemlock rank,

Growing on the weedy bank;

But the yellow cowslips eat,

They perhaps will make it sweet.

Where the purple violet grows,

Where the bubbling water flows,

Where the grass is fresh and fine,

Pretty cow, go there and dine.

--_Jane Taylor_.

{370}

[Illustration]

Music for "Going to Bed".

[End illustration]

{371}

GOING TO BED

Little baby, lay your head

On your pretty cradle-bed;

Shut your eye-peeps, now the day

And the light are gone away.

All the clothes are tucked in tight;

Little baby dear, good night!

Yes, my darling, well I know

How the bitter wind doth blow;

And the winter's snow and rain

Patter on the window pane.

But they cannot come in here,

To my little baby dear;

For the window shutteth fast,

Till the stormy night is past;

Or the curtains we may spread

Round about her cradle-bed.

So, till morning shineth bright,

Little baby dear, good night!

--_Jane Taylor_.

{372}

BABY AND MAMMA

What a little thing am I!

Hardly higher than the table.

I can eat, and play, and cry,

But to work I am not able.

Nothing in the world I know,

But mamma will try and show me.

Sweet mamma, I love her so,

She's so very kind unto me.

And she sets me on her knee,

Very often, for some kisses.

Oh! how good I'll try to be,

For such a dear mamma as this is.

--_Jane Taylor_.

{373}{374}

[Illustration]

CHILD WITH DOG

Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723-1792)

[End illustration]

{375}

THE TEMPEST

See the dark vapors cloud the sky,

The thunder rumbles round and round;

The lightning's flash begins to fly,

Big drops of rain bedew the ground:

The frightened birds with ruffled wing,

Fly through the air and cease to sing.

'T is God who on the tempest rides

And with a word directs the storm,

'T is at His nod the wind subsides,

Or heaps of heavy vapors form.

In fire and cloud He walks the sky,

And lets His stores of tempest fly.

--_Jane Taylor_.

{376}

THE VIOLET

Down in a green and shady bed

A modest violet grew;

Its stalk was bent, it hung its head,

As if to hide from view.

And yet it was a lovely flower,

Its colors bright and fair.

It might have graced a rosy bower,

Instead of hiding there.

Yet there it was content to bloom,

In modest tints arrayed;

And there diffused its sweet perfume,

Within the silent shade.

Then let me to the valley go,

This pretty flower to see,

That I may also learn to grow

In sweet humility.

--_Jane Taylor_.

{377}{378}

[Illustration]

SHEEP

By Rosa Bonheur (1822-1899)

One of the most famous artists of the world, born at Bordeaux,

France, March 22, 1822, died 1899. Her best known pictures are the

"Horse Fair" and "Tillage in Nivernais." During the siege of Paris

her studio was saved by the special order of the crown prince of

Prussia. She received the cross of the Legion of Honor in 1865

[End illustration]

{379}

MAY DAY SONG

April's gone, the king of showers;

May is come, the queen of flowers;

Give me something, gentles dear,

For a blessing on the year.

For my garland give, I pray,

Words and smiles of cheerful May:

Birds of spring, to you we come,

Let us pick a little crumb.

--_John Keble_.

{380}

THE LAMB

Little lamb, who made thee?

Dost thou know who made thee,

Gave thee life and bade thee feed

By the stream and o'er the mead;

Gave thee clothing of delight,

Softest clothing, woolly, bright;

Gave thee such a tender voice,

Making all the vales rejoice?

Little lamb, who made thee?

Dost thou know who made thee?

Little lamb, I'll tell thee;

Little lamb, I'll tell thee.

He is called by thy name,

For He calls Himself a Lamb.

He is meek and He is mild,

He became a little child.

I a child and thou a lamb,

We are called by His name.

Little lamb, God bless thee.

Little lamb, God bless thee.

--_William Blake_.

{381}{382}

[Illustration]

THE AGE OF INNOCENCE

Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723-1792)

[End illustration]

{383}

SOME MURMUR WHEN THEIR SKY IS CLEAR

Some murmur when their sky is clear

And wholly bright to view,

If one small speck of dark appear

In their great heaven of blue.

And some with thankful love are filled,

If but one streak of light,

One ray of God's good mercy gild

The darkness of their night.

In palaces are hearts that ask,

In discontent and pride,

Why life is such a dreary task

And all good things denied.

And hearts in poorest huts admire

How love has in their aid,

Love that not ever seems to tire,

Such rich provision made.

--_Archbishop Trench_.

{384}

LITTLE DROPS OF WATER

Little drops of water,

Little grains of sand,

Make the mighty ocean,

And the pleasant land.

Then the little minutes,

Humble though they be,

Make the mighty ages

Of eternity.

--_Ebenezer Cobham Brewer_.

{385}

CHRISTMAS HYMNS

{386}

{387} {388}

[Illustration]

THE ANNOUNCEMENT TO THE SHEPHERDS

By Bernard Plockhorst (1825- )

"And there were shepherds in the same country abiding in the field,

and keeping watch by night over their flock. And an angel of the

Lord stood by them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about

them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, 'Be

not afraid; for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which

shall be to all the people: for there is born to you this day in the

city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this is the

sign unto you; Ye shall find a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes,

and lying in a manger.'

"And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly

host praising God, and saying,--

'Glory to God in the highest,

And on earth peace among men in whom he is well pleased.'"

--_Luke 2:8-14_

{389}

CHRISTMAS LULLABY

Sleep, baby, sleep. The mother sings:

Heaven's angels kneel and fold their wings.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

With swaths of scented hay Thy bed

By Mary's hand at eve was spread.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

At midnight came the shepherds, they

Whom seraphs wakened by the way.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

And three kings from the East afar,

Ere dawn, came, guided by the star.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

They brought Thee gifts of gold and gems,

Pure orient pearls, rich diadems.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

But Thou who liest slumbering there,

Art King of kings, earth, ocean, air.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

Sleep, baby, sleep. The shepherds sing:

Through heaven, through earth, hosannas ring.

Sleep, baby, sleep!

--_John Addington Symonds_.

{390}

THE STAR

They followed the star the whole night through;

As it moved with the midnight, they moved, too;

And cared not whither it led, nor knew,

Till Christmas day in the morning.

We have followed the star a whole long year,

And watched it beckon, now faint, now clear,

And now it stands still as we draw near

To Christmas day in the morning.

And just as the wise men did of old,

In the hush of the winter's dawning, cold,

We come to the stable, and we behold

The Child on the Christmas morning.

And just as the wise men deemed it meet

To offer Him gold and perfumes sweet,

We would lay our gifts at His holy feet,

Our gifts on Christmas morning.

O Babe, once laid in the oxen's bed,

With never a pillow for Thy head,

Now throned in the highest heaven instead,

O Lord of the Christmas morning!

Because we have known and have loved Thy star

And have followed it long and have followed it far

From the land where the shadows and darkness are

To find Thee on Christmas morning,--

Accept the gifts we dare to bring,

Though worthless and poor the offering,

And help our souls to rise and sing

On Christmas day in the morning.

{391}{392}

[Illustration]

MADONNA AND CHILD

By Sichel

"All my heart this night rejoices

As I hear, far and near,

Sweetest angel voices:

'Christ is born!' their choirs are singing,

Till the air everywhere

Now with joy is ringing."

--_Paul Gerhardt_

[End illustration]

{393}

A CHRISTMAS CAROL

What sweeter music can we bring,

Than a carol for to sing

The birth of this our heavenly King?

Awake the voice! A wake the string!

Heart, ear, and eye, and everything

Awake! the while the active finger

Runs divisions with the singer.

Dark and dull night, fly hence away,

And give the honor to this day,

That sees December turned to May.

If we may ask the reason, say

The why, and wherefore all things here

Seem like the springtime of the year?

Why does the chilling winter's morn

Smile like a field beset with corn?

Or smell like to a mead new shorn,

Thus on the sudden? Come and see

The cause why things thus fragrant be:

'Tis He is born, whose quickening birth

Gives light and luster, public mirth,

To heaven and the under earth.

{394}

THE GUIDING STAR

As with gladness men of old

Did the guiding star behold,

As with joy they hailed its light,

Leading onward, beaming bright;

So, most gracious Lord, may we

Evermore be led by Thee.

As with joyful steps they sped

To that lowly manger bed,

There to bend the knee before

Him whom heaven and earth adore;

So may we with willing feet

Ever seek the mercy seat.

As they offered gifts most rare

At that manger rude and bare;

So may we with holy joy,

Pure and free from sin's alloy,

All our costliest treasures bring,

Christ, to Thee, our heavenly King.

--_William C. Dix_.

{395}{396}

[Illustration]

THE HOLY NIGHT

By Correggio (1493-1534)

Antonio Allegri Correggio, named from the Italian town in which he

was born

"We sate among the stalls at Bethlehem;

The dumb kine from their fodder turning there,

Softened their horned faces

To almost human gazes

Toward the newly born.

The simple shepherds from the starlit brooks

Brought visionary looks,

As yet in their astonied hearing, rung

The strange, sweet angel tongue;

The Magi from the East in sandals worn

Knelt reverent, sweeping round

With long pale beards, their gifts upon the ground,

The incense, myrrh, and gold,

These baby hands are impotent to hold;

So let all earthlies and celestials wait

Upon thy royal state:

Sleep, O my kingly One!"

--_Elizabeth Barrett Browning_

[End illustration]

{397}

A CHRISTMAS CAROL

God rest ye, merry gentlemen; let nothing you dismay,

For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born on Christmas day.

The dawn rose red o'er Bethlehem, the stars shone through the gray,

When Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born on Christmas day.

God rest ye, little children; let nothing you affright,

For Jesus Christ, your Saviour, was born this happy night;

Along the hills of Galilee the white flocks sleeping lay,

When Christ, the child of Nazareth, was born on Christmas day.

God rest ye, all good Christians; upon this blessed morn,

The Lord of all good Christians was of a woman born:

Now all your sorrows He doth heal, your sins He takes away;

For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, was born on Christmas day.

--_Dinah Maria Mulock_.

{398}

HAIL THE NIGHT! ALL HAIL THE MORN!

Hail the night! All hail the morn!

When the Prince of Peace was born;

When, amid the watchful fold,

Tidings good the angel told.

Now our solemn chant we raise

Duly to the Saviour's praise;

Now with carol hymns we bless

Christ the Lord, our Righteousness.

While resounds the joyful cry,

"Glory be to God on high,

Peace on earth, good-will to men!"

Gladly we respond "amen!"

--_Old German Carol_.

{399}{400}

[Illustration]

THE NATIVITY

"Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes,

Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated,

The bird of dawning singeth all night long;

And then, they say, no spirit can walk abroad;

The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike;

No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm;

So hallowed and so gracious is the time."

--_Shakespeare_.

[End illustration]

{401}

THE CHRISTMAS TREE

There's a wonderful tree, a wonderful tree,

The happy children rejoice to see,

Spreading its branches year by year,

It comes from the forest to flourish here;

Oh! this beautiful tree, with its branches wide,

Is always blooming at Christmas-tide.

'T is not alone in the summer's sheen

Its boughs are broad and its leaves are green,

It blooms for us when the wild winds blow,

And earth is white with feathery snow:

And this wonderful tree with its branches wide,

Bears many a gift for the Christmas-tide.

'T is all alight with its tapers' glow,

That flash on the shining eyes below,

And the strange sweet fruit on each laden bough

Is all to be plucked by the gatherers now.

Oh! this wonderful tree, with its branches wide,

We hail it with joy at the Christmas-tide.

And a voice is telling, its boughs among,

Of the shepherds' watch and angels' song;

Of a holy babe in a manger low,

The beautiful story of long ago,

When a radiant star threw its beams so wide

To herald the earliest Christmas-tide.

Then spread thy branches, wonderful tree,

And bring some dainty gift to me,

And fill my heart with a burning love

To Him who came from His home above--

From His beautiful home with the glorified,

To give us the joys of the Christmas-tide.

{402}

A CHRISTMAS CAROL

It chanced upon the merry, merry Christmas eve

I went sighing past the church, across the moorland dreary,--

"Oh! never sin and want and woe this earth will leave,

And the bells but mock the wailing round, they sing so cheery.

How long, O Lord, how long, before Thou come again?

Still in cellar, and in garret, and on moorland dreary,

The orphans moan, and widows weep, and poor men toil in vain,

Till the earth is sick of hope deferred, though Christmas bells

be cheery."

Then arose a joyous clamor from the wild fowl on the mere,

Beneath the stars, across the snow, like clear bells ringing,

And a voice within cried, "Listen! Christmas carols even here!

Though thou be dumb, yet o'er their work the stars and snows

are singing.

Blind! I live, I love, I reign; and all the nations through

With the thunder of my judgments even now are ringing;

Do thou fulfill thy work, but as yon wild fowl do,

Thou wilt heed no less the wailing yet hear through it angels'

singing."

--_Charles Kingsley_.

{403}{404}

[Illustration]

THE HOLY FAMILY

By Carl Mueller

"Ah, dearest Jesus, holy Child,

Make Thee a bed, soft, undefiled,

Within my heart that it may be,

A quiet chamber kept for Thee.

"My heart for very joy doth leap,

My lips no more can silence keep;

I, too, must sing with joyful tongue

That sweetest ancient cradle song."

--_Martin Luther_

[End illustration]

{405}

SONG OF THE ANGELS

While shepherds watched their flocks by night,

All seated on the ground,

The angel of the Lord came down;

And glory shone around.

"Fear not," said he, for mighty dread

Had seized their troubled minds;

"Glad tidings of great joy I bring

To you and all mankind.

"To you, in David's town, this day,

Is born of David's line,

The Saviour, who is Christ the Lord;

And this shall be the sign:

"The heavenly babe you there shall find

To human view displayed,

All meanly wrapped in swathing bands

And in a manger laid."

Thus spoke the seraph, and forthwith

Appeared a shining throng

Of angels, praising God, and thus

Addressed their joyful song:

"All glory be to God on high,

And to the earth be peace;

Good-will henceforth from heaven to men

Begin, and never cease."

--_Ancient Christmas Song_.

{406}

CAROL, SWEETLY CAROL

Carol, sweetly carol,

A Saviour born to-day;

Bear the joyful tidings,

Oh, bear them far away!

Carol, sweetly carol,

Till earth's remotest bound

Shall hear the mighty chorus,

And echo back the sound.

CHORUS.

Carol, sweetly carol,

Carol sweetly to-day;

Bear the joyful tidings,

Oh, bear them far away.

Carol, sweetly carol,

As when the angel throng,

O'er the vales of Judah,

Awoke the heavenly song:

Carol, sweetly carol,

Good will, and peace, and love,

Glory in the highest

To God who reigns above.

Carol, sweetly carol,

The happy Christmas time:

Hark! the bells are pealing

Their merry, merry chime:

Carol, sweetly carol,

Ye shining ones above,

Sing in loudest numbers,

Oh, sing redeeming love!

{407} {408}

[Illustration]

THE COMING OF THE MAGI

"'What means this glory round our feet,'

The Magi mused, 'more bright than morn?'

And voices chanted, clear and sweet,

'To-day the Prince of Peace is born.'"

--_James Russell Lowell_

"Lo! star-led chiefs Assyrian odors bring,

And bending Magi seek their Infant King."

--_Heber_

[End illustration]

{409}

CRADLE HYMN

Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,

The little Lord Jesus laid down His head.

The stars in the bright sky looked down where He lay--

The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay.

The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes,

But little Lord Jesus, no crying He makes.

I love Thee, Lord Jesus, look down from the sky,

And stay by my cradle till morning is nigh.

--_Martin Luther_.

{410}

[Illustration]

Music for "Cradle Hymn".

[End illustration]

{411}

CRADLE HYMN

Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber;

Holy angels guard thy bed;

Heav'nly blessings without number

Gently falling on thy head.

Sleep, my babe, thy food and raiment,

House and home, thy friends provide;

All without thy care or payment,

All thy wants are well supplied.

How much better thou'rt attended

Than the Son of God could be,

When from heaven he descended,

And became a child like thee.

Soft and easy is thy cradle;

Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay,

When his birthplace was a stable,

And his softest bed was hay.

--_Isaac Watts_.

{412}

CHORUS

We see Him come, and know Him ours,

Who, with His sunshine and His showers,

Turns all the patient ground to flowers.

The Darling of the world is come,

And fit it is we find a room

To welcome Him. The nobler part

Of all the house here, is the heart,

Which we will give Him; and bequeath

This holly, and this ivy wreath,

To do Him honor, who's our King,

And Lord of all this reveling.

--_Robert Herrick_.

{413}{414}

[Illustration]

THE ADORATION OF THE CHILDREN

Gherado delle Notte

"O come, all ye faithful, joyfully triumphant,

To Bethlehem hasten now with glad accord,

Lo! in a manger lies the King of angels;

O come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord"

[End illustration]

{415}

ONCE IN ROYAL DAVID'S CITY

Once in royal David's city,

Stood a lowly cattle shed,

Where a mother hid her baby

In a manger for his bed;

Mary was that mother mild,

Jesus Christ her little child.

He came down to earth from heaven,

Who is God and Lord of all,

And His shelter was a stable,

And His cradle was a stall:

With the poor, and mean, and lowly,

Lived on earth our Saviour holy.

And thro' all His wondrous childhood,

He would honor and obey,

Love and watch the lowly maiden

In whose gentle arms He lay;

Christian children all must be

Mild, obedient, good as He.

For He is our childhood's pattern,

Day by day like us He grew,

He was little, weak and helpless,

Tears and smiles like us He knew:

And He feeleth for our sadness,

And He shareth in our gladness.

And our eyes at last shall see Him,

Through His own redeeming love,

For that Child so dear and gentle

Is our Lord in heaven above: {416}

And He leads His children on

To the place where He is gone.

Not in that poor lowly stable,

With the oxen standing by,

We shall see Him; but in heaven,

Set at God's right hand on high;

When like stars His children crowned

All in white shall wait around.

--_Mrs. C. F. Alexander_.

{417}{418}

[Illustration]

MADONNA AND CHILD

"Thou didst leave Thy throne and Thy kingly crown

When Thou camest to earth for me;

But in Bethlehem's home there was found no room

For Thy holy nativity.

O come to my heart, Lord Jesus,

There is room in my heart for Thee."

--_Emily Elizabeth Elliott_.

[End illustration]

{419}

CALM ON THE LISTENING EAR OF NIGHT

Calm on the listening ear of night

Come heaven's melodious strains,

Where wild Judea stretches far

Her silver-mantled plains;

Celestial choirs from courts above

Shed sacred glories there;

And angels with their sparkling lyres

Make music on the air.

The answering hills of Palestine

Send back the glad reply,

And greet from all their holy heights

The Dayspring from on high.

O'er the blue depths of Galilee

There comes a holier calm;

And Sharon waves in solemn praise,

Her silent groves of palm.