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Show U VY .... TO M. C. S. . MA E XTP O N E N T IN-- ' Tho song is'hufhed tho touched chords tremble yet The pen is 6tayed but still the picture lives: We list the dying sound with sweet regret; But on the scene fair faith her seal. has set, 99 . ' . Tftst,: but not least, unfailing, faithful Iricud, to th'V, "My heart sendsforth Its gift's of lovo voice t wee ascends;; lu language where tho poet's a future with the and bjends The present joins, harmony. In choral sonr, a oul-fe-; ' " .. f 1 k. rrT'-'- -- forthe best gSocToi the human family. A lit tle pensiyenesajs-beautifulrimnglewith the hilarity of a Christmas gathering, the blend: ingot the more sober and thoughtful with tho gay and hilarious gives tone to the holiday picture, and seasons the two elements, softening-ioy, 'and these and" sobers and reflec "thy eleyate modify tive. And one can scarcely help feeling a holy awe and reverence even on the most joyful Christmas occasion,, when recalling the incident thatled to the celebration "of the most imper tant event which ha3 occurred in the history of the1 world since the "tragedy which transpired in the Garden of Eden. Therefore it is meet to mingle tears and smiles on such an important anniversary. d iVt;l,4ifctcff, liret unto tho Toicothrit'EingT HOLIDAY TIMES. Or the far years that form our mutual past; thoughts fair lingers fondly touch tho strings, And memory flies to fold her shadowy wings Oyer a realm whose treasures always last. Vhilo tt A3 the holiday season approaches ; "FdTevcFTaTtTfdTlhoiigh estrangement's gloom Too often fallso'er friends .wejoncc have known, "JoysThey havo"Ehared can never cease to bloom, Searched for, and fet, like flowers above a tomb, The troubled spirit calls them, still its own. While leaning low to read the records there, A lady camo and smiled, and whispered, "See! This is my flower garden; full and fair The bnds expand and bloom alwe despair; The buried here were friends to you and me." And so through life, amid tho dearth and doom Of Fevered friendship, I have seemed to sco Those tender .flowers upon tho sunlit tomb, . - But the voice eings,"and bids ns list again To the dear, tender tone that trembled up Till tho calm present joins to lead the strain, While spirit voices swell the sweet refrain; We drink delicious drops from memory's cup. And gazing down into Its tranquil deeps, ; "' A brokenjountain. falptly cornea to view; O'er its hushed source a heavy shadow "sleeps, And wearied hope amid the ruin weeps Great drops that gem the trampled flowers liko dew. - - . From tho full waves that dance or dream at will. Where'er it flows a fragrance fills the air; The daisy sleeps beneath tho lily's shade; Ssrctt song birds flit jind JtaiteETerywberei thetbefcbendingtowers orTUinbMre " "' it wanders by, its song is never stayed. Lovingly lingering where the summer lies ' Catching a ray from every sunbeam passed; Touched bjthe tints that fill tho far off skies, Along Hs course the sparkling current hies, And near tho silent fountain flows at last. : O, how significant 'are these choice lines of Tennvson: how man vr hearts ran orhn t Ha rn. frain; a mist of pearly tears envelops many a household at these holiday times; and yet 'tis sweet to feel thus, 'tis even sacred, so much so that one would not lessen the pain, for the extreme of pleasure. 'Tis sublime to contemplate the glory of immortality, and when we recall the birth and resurrection of our blessed Savior, our hearts are enlarged, our souls in-- . spired with a divine enthusiasm that blends in harmony the celestial, elements of our nature "witlTtheTmmortal kinship. We are not what we were, but what we would be; - , " ; - . ; Fills all the air with grateful glittering spray. -Taught by the tide, the wakened stre&nrohce monT Wells forth to join tho rapturous, ringing trill; Tho shattered shrine resistless rises " o'er, And where dead flowers and silence slept before, Together glide the fountain and the rUl. Fearless and freo where falsehood lurks In Tain, Through storm and shine the blended waters run; mrnful jMasnresTningUng Kcepingtheir cburseliiong life's lessening plain .', To that far seajbeyond the setting sun. Even thus has Maggie's life flowed into mine; :Thus undivided have our days sped on; May every year some tendril new entwine, Some sweet note rise, some soul gem soflly shine To light the hours th? t wait tho lingering dawn. . - L . if-th- " we not follow "At our old pastimes in the hall We gaibrd, making vaiapretenso Of gladness, with an awful senso Of one mute shadow watching all." - -- - Are there any" homes where no shadow falls on Christmas day? Prom out these happy yet shadowy households has past perhaps the most glorious," the most perfect, the most complete personification that made life dear and desirable. On Christmas day, once the advent of -- the.bl essed,-thprecious Messiah, are "we not obtain to a glimpse of the "beyond," "permitted and to commune in secret meditation, in with those whose lives were interwoven with ou rs, and who can never pass from our Blessed day ! memory while time endures. e rsi-lenc- e, --And blessed memories thou bringest, for though" joy waits on thy footsteps, and mirth and gaie- ty are thy handmaidens, yet withal thou hast a silent shadow in thy train of followers, it is the pall that hangs foreyer like a mantle over the altar of consecration, where mortals J)pjOU-fidoratioof the Omnipotent, and ac the inevitable, feeling assured of therfelic cept ity that those attain to," who pass the ordeals may be written in necessary that their-uamthe Lamb's Book of Life. Aunt Em. n es : the teachings, of our divine Master? 'He squght out the poor and; visited them. He went not into the mansions of the great of the earth, but into the hedges and byways, and He said, "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth."- - There "With trembling fingors do we weave The holly round the Christmas hearth; A rainy cloud possess'd the eartb, And sadly fell our Christmas eve." - er them." Why do : . 'DearIy bought the hidden treasure"'Finer feelings can bestow ! Chords that vibrate, sweetest pleasure Thrill the deepest notes of woe." - Never waa anything more strictly true than these poetic sentiments of Robert Burns. It is indeed those who feel the most keenlyjwho en-- . . .joy most and who suffer most It is argued by some wise acres that all pain is alike, but the most learned medeciri knows that there is all the difference imaginable in the degrees of inheart as tensity rrrof11 bodily suffering, and the i tiJ it wen. leu me tnat an men and women arei.. alike, they. alLsuffer alike, alFenjoy alike,' it is" not true. "Our intellicrence teaches us differ- the subently when we reflect and reason upon ' ject. Let me not digress. I was intending to write of holiday times; well, even this has as much to do with the poor a3 the rich, they enter intcthe solid enjoyment of these festive occasions with as true a relish for pastime and happy reunions, as do those whose wealth and grandeur make them the eynosure of all eyes. "But those who have means at their command sought might fee more intensely happy ey to bles3 the meek and lowly, and without ostentation in some delicate manner bestow such attention as would afford grateful appreciation without woundiug the sensibility of the recipient. To know how to scatter bounties gracefully is as ingenious a matter and requires as much tact and skill as to probe a wound in or-dto heal it. Jesus said, "Take heed that ye , do not your alms before men to be seen of c "The time draws near the birth of Christ; The moon is hid; the night is still; : Tho Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist." of . " . be-cause.- " d Some . - The picture grows, and lo, with laughing sound, Forth from Its mossy rock a rill -- Leaps to the light, aod' thelow hills around Echo tho songs that ceaselessly resound Leads gently by, and babbling o'er the brim Fills the lone font and softly sweeps away; Lends its own light unto the wavelets dim, And leaping through the shadows gray and grim f tddtnnir-thenofeeFat:- wau ." AndinmyliearFlheBe words have since found room, "The buried here was once a friend to me.".." r- nafc-se- " . It matters not by what rude hands, or when, The full, fresh font was shattered, btft it seems Song and bloomand beauty perished then, That its dim waves will never flow again - - rBeyond the barriero( broken dreams. it brings one' and all many thoughts peculiar to the' in,youtli thev are pyotn; thoughts; bright and fanciful pictures present, themselves, holding out a nanorama of beauti-- : ful visions where gladness, merriment and feasting abound. Who shall say this is not good, and exhilarating to the mind arid body? .No one can dispute the fact. We all know by experience, who have- - lived long in this world, that nothing is more injurious to health than depression of spirits. "Sadne&3 tends to death," was a favorite saying of bnefof our dear sisters who lias gone from' our; midst, but whose example of cheerfulness' under the most trying circumstances of life is worthy of imitation. Courage to bear ' ad versity - is commen dab le, courage in poverty, if it be honest poverty, is a true sign of heroism... It is easy' to hold tip one's head in prosperity, that requires no particular quantity of.-- courage whatever," but to shTihk into a nutshell because fortune, the giddy dame, has been, playing U3 some mad freak is ignoble. - Others niay frown upon one adversities, because of an empty purse or "lack of the needful," bui one should pre- -' serve bis own equinamity, should think well of himself should have the, courage to look his friends in the face, if his own honor has been maintained through itall, and congratulate . -- hiinself thathe has the stamina to brave mis is a proof of genuine character not fortune; it to sink under an accumulation of difficulties. r-t- o . I well remember, when a little child, Of wandering by a group of household graves; Tho one fair spott amid a forest wild, Where blossoms bright, and rare, pale roses smiled Up to the "boughs that bent like syly&n shades". vine-wreathe- to liw'givcs,'. l h'4 thegut m. March IS, 1S75. lt Ore Ani!idi may be a shadow at the holiday season or ii una, even on inenrLma. iay wnen an should Wat.peace.with oneanother and all the that may be, sanctified trvftw:' world, but good of those who accept all the "vicissitudes of -- The power of a' man's virtue should not be measured by his special efforts, but by his or- dinary doing. Paxcal. Letters, ot at least the letters of most people, are unsatisfactory after long absence. The mystery that wo want to penetrate, the soul that wo want to reach with our soul, cannot unveil itself to us on a sheet of paper, even if it yearn to do so, and is willing to let" us know as much as . we can understand. Jean Innelow, : |