When, lo! as they reached the mountain'ş side,
A wondrous pōrtal1 opened wide,

As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed;

And the Piper advanced, and the children föllowed;
And when all were in, to the věry låst,

The door in the mountain side shut făst.

9. Did I say all? No one waş lame,

And could not dance the whole of the way;
And in after years, if you would blame

His sadness, he was used to say:

"It's dull in our town since my playmates left!
I eän't forget that I'm bereft

Of all the pleasant sights they see,
Which the Piper also promised me;
For he led us, he said, to a joyous land,
Joining the town, and just at hand,
Where waters gushed, and fruit-trees grew,
And flowers put forth a fâirer hue,
And every thing was strange and new;

The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here,
And their dogs outran our fallow deer,

And honey-bees had lost their stings,

And horses were borne with eagles' wings;

And just as I became assured

My lame foot would be speedily cured,
The music stopped, and I stood still,

And found myself outside the Hill,
Left alone against my will,

To go now limping as befōre,

And never hear of that country mōre !"

10. Alås, alas for Hamelin !

There came into many a bûrgher's pate
A text which says, that Heaven's Gate
Opes to the rich at as easy rate

As the needle's eye takes a camel in !—
The Mayor sent east, west, north, and south,

1 Pōrt'al, a small door or gate; hence, sometimes, any passage-way.

2 Burgher (berg'er), an inhabitant of an incorporated town or village.

To offer the Piper by word of mouth,
Wherever it was men's lot to find him,
Silver and gold to his heart's content,
If he'd only return the way he went,

And bring the children behind him.

11. But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavor, And Piper and dancers were gone forever, They made a decree that lawyers never

Should think their records dated duly, If, after the day of the month and year, These words did not as well appear : "And so long after what happened here On the Twenty-second of July, Thirteen hundred and seventy-six;' And, the better in memory to fix The place of the children's låst retreat, They called it the Pied Piper's Street— Where any one playing on pipe or tabor Was sure for the future to lose his labor. 12. Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern

To shock with mîrth a street so solemn;
But opposite the place of the cavern

They wrote the story on a column,
And on the Great Church window painted
The same, to make the world acquainted
How their children were stōlen ǎwāy;—
And thêre it stands to this very day.

13. And I must not omit to say

That in Transylvania there's a tribe
Of alien people that ascribe

The outlandish ways and dress

On which their neighbors lay such stress,
To their fathers and mothers having risen
Out of some subterranean prison,
Into which they were trapanned 1
Long time ago, in a mighty band,

1 Tra pǎnned', trapped; insnared.

Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land,
But how or why, they don't understand.

14. So, Willy, let you and me be wipers

Of scores out with all men-especially pipers:
And, whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice,
If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise.
ROBERT BROWNING.

SECTION XXIX.

I.

109. CONFORMITY TO THE DIVINE WILL. OOK not to the matter of your actions, which may be contemptible in itself, but to the honor they possess in being willed by God, ordered in His providence, arranged in His wisdom. Purity of heart consists in valuing all things according to the weights of the sanctuary, which are nothing else than the will of God: do not love, then, any thing too ardently, not even virtue, which we sometimes lose by wishing for it beyond the bounds of moderation.

2. Our center is the will of God; God wishes that I should do this action now; God desires this matter of me: what mōre is necessary? While I do this, I am not obliged to do any thing else. O God! may Thy will be done, not only in the execution of Thy commandments, counsels, and inspirations, which we ought to obey, but also in suffering the afflictions which befall us; may Thy will be done in us, and by us, in ěvèry thing that pleases Thee!

3. Oh! if the hōly will of God reigned in us, how happy we should be! We should never commit any sin, or live according to our irregular inclinations, for that holy will is the rule of all excellence and sanctity. It is self-love, says Saint Bernard,1

1 St. Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux and Doctor of the Church, born at Fontaines, in Burgundy, in 1091; died, in the Abbey of Clairvaux, Aug. 20, 1153. No man of his time

exerted so profound an influence over his contemporaries. Through his efforts the claims of the antipope, Anicletus, were set aside, and a threatened schism averted. He

that burns eternally in hell, for it ruins and destroys whatever it touches. If found in heaven, it is cast out; for the angels were banished only because of self-will, because they wished to become like God, and were, on that account, precipitated 1 into hell. If found on earth, it robs man of grace, and subjects him to death, as happened to our first parents in the terrestrial 2 paradise.

4. In a word, it brings nothing but misfortune; and, therefōre, when we discover any thing within us not conformed to the will of God, we should prostrate ourselves before Him, and say to Him that we detest and disown our own will, and every thing in us that could displease Him, or that is contrary to His holy love, promising Him never to wish for any thing but what will be conformable to His divine good pleasure. Let us open the arms of our will, embrace lovingly the Cross, and acquiesce in the most holy will of God, singing to Him this hymn of resignation and conformity: Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.

ST. FRANCIS DE SALES.

II.

110. MY SISTER'S SLEEP.

HE fell asleep on Christmas Eve:

SH

At length, the long ungranted shade

Of weary eyelids, overweighed

The pain nought else might yet relieve.

preached the second Crusade. He founded seventy-two Cistercian monasteries, of which ten were in Ireland and England (ing'gland). He was a voluminous writer on all points of theology. His feast is celebrated on Aug. 20.

1 Pre cĭp' i tā ted, cast down

headlong.

Visitation. His "Introduction to a
Devout Life," his Letters, and his
"Treatise on the Love of God are
perhaps the most widely read of all
devotional works, excepting
"The
Following of Christ." His writ-
ings have a peculiar charm, which
attracts hearts and convinces minds
as powerfully since his death as

2 Ter rès'tri al, earthly; pertain his preaching and his example did ing to this world. in his lifetime. By his eloquence, holy zeal, and perseverance, he reconciled to the Church over seventy thousand souls who had been per verted by false teachers. His feast is celebrated on Jan. 29.

8 St. Francis de Sales, PrinceBishop of Geneva, and Doctor of the Church, was born in Savoy, Aug. 21, 1567; died Dec. 28, 1622. He founded the order of the

2. Our mother, who had leaned all day
Over the bed from chime to chime,
Then raised herself for the first time,
And as she sat her down, did pray.
3. Her little table near was spread

With work to finish. For the glâre
Made by her candle, she had câre
To work some distance from the bed.

4. Without, there was a cold moon up,
Of winter radiance, sheer and thin;
The hollow halo it was in

Was like an icy, crystal cup.

5. Through the small room, with subtle sound Of flame, by vents the fireshine drove And reddened. In its dim alcove

The mirror shed a clearness round.

6. I had been sitting up some nights,

And my tired mind felt weak and blank;
Like a sharp, strengthening wine, it drank
The stillness and the broken lights.

7. Twelve struck. That sound, by dwindling years
Heard in each hour, crept off; and then
The ruffled silence spread again,

Like water that a pebble stirs.

8. Our mother rose from where she sat:

Her needles, as she laid them down,

Met lightly, and her silken gown
Settled; no other noise than that.
9. "Glory unto the Newly Born!"
So, as said angels, she did say;
Because we were in Christmas Day,
Though it would still be long till morn.

10. Just then, in the room over us,

There was a pushing back of chairs,
As some who had sat unawares

So late, now heard the hour, and rose.