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the upturned faces and eager eyes of myriads who now thronged the city from its centre to its entrance gates.

Hour after hour passed by, till suddenly a word flew along those ranks of watchers, a word that grew from a quick-winged whisper to a sound, from a sound to a choral cry, " He is coming! He is coming!"

And with that cry Berthold's thoughts went forth to a day, how far off or how near he knew not, a day when the great Deliverer should draw near, and from the dwellings where men watched or slept, all should come forth to meet Him. And further onward yet his thoughts travelled, finding their utterance in a glorious strain that told of a new heaven and a new earth, wherein dwelt righteousness. Higher and higher the Alleluias rose, note after note, echoing and re-echoing the glad sounds whereby not now alone the creature praised the Creator, but the ransomed gave thanks to the Redeemer. The notes of his first song were repeated here; the earth pure and perfect, lifted still her voice of rejoicing, but all that he had missed then he had found and shaped to music now, pouring forth not the rapture of those who know not sorrow, but of those who have known it and shall know it again no more.

And the musician added this his last song to his other written songs, saying, "The Hymn of Praise is completed now, and, oh may the hearers in all times read its hidden meaning aright! learning that in this same hymn they may all bear a part, that though its first utterance was in a world unfallen, its music has been borne onwards beyond the gates of Eden by all who have glorified GOD by their unweariedness in labour, their patience in suffering, their love that endureth all things. Echoes of the first sweet chorus we may still hear among the voices of nature and the holy thankfulness of joyous hearts, but many a link in the golden harmony will be lost to us if we do not listen for the voices that rise from life's shadows, to the lips that breathe a solemn undersong. We may hear them if we will hearken diligently, we may help them if we will keep our own part truly.

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The end is not yet! the final notes that take up and translate into higher glory the beauty of the first chorus are yet to be sung. Who knows when that time shall be? Many a voice is calling 'Watchman! will the night soon pass?' And some have even now heard a voice upon the mountains crying above the cities, 'Behold, the night is departing !'"'l

E. H. W.

'This sketch, though entirely imaginary, is founded on Mendelssohn's beautiful Oratorio "The Hymn of Praise."


"Quis revolvet nobis lapidem ab ostio monumenti ?”—S. Marc. xvi. 3.
"WHO can roll this stone of sorrow,

From men's hearts," I weeping said,
"Letting in God's blessed sunlight
On their living and their dead?
Dark its face with many a tempest,
And a thousand rolling years,
Can one roll away for ever

This strange stone with all its tears ?

"Who can roll this mighty marble
From its place for evermore,
Cold and white as beaten snow-drift
Ever lying at life's door?

Death, men call it, half unwitting,
E'en a character it bears,

Can one roll away for ever

This strange stone with all its cares ?”

Thus I murmuring as the Dawning
Swept across the sleeping land,
And a thousand voices whispered,
With the Spring of joy at hand,
While the tall still oleanders

At the grave of Rama grew,
In the light of Easter morning,
To a glory strange and new.
And behold One passed me swiftly
In that pleasant garden-land,
And He touched the stone of sorrow

With a wondrous wounded Hand,
And the stone of death grew rosy

With the light from His bright Face,
As He bent above the marble
And cast it from its place.

Then the sun rose up in glory,
And I fell upon my knees,
For I heard a song of angels

Borne upon the morning breeze,

And 'twas CHRIST who stood before me
While He whispered "I alone
Victor over Death and Sorrow,

I can roll away their stone."





Reviews and Notices.

Sister Dora: a biography, by Margaret Lonsdale, (C. Kegan Paul and Co., London.) This is the record of a truly noble life. To study it thoroughly in all its details, would be as good a Lenten discipline as could be prescribed to most persons, so strongly does it shame all luxury and self-indulgence in those who would serve CHRIST. The history is the more interesting because while many of the deeds of this extraordinary woman seem almost superhuman, she is herself so especially human in her characteristics and peculiarities of temperament. A brief outline of her wonderful life will, we hope, send our readers to the book itself to be impressed by it as none can fail to be. Dorothy Pattison was the daughter of a country clergyman, one of a large family, and in her early youth we see her as a bold, high-spirited girl, somewhat too free from feminine weaknesses, who found her chief pleasure in fox hunting and other field sports. From childhood she manifested an indomitable strength of will and an independence of spirit which showed plainly, as the issue proved, that she was not one who could work in connection with others or in subjection to those who were intellectually her inferiors.

The turning-point of her destiny was one which does her infinite credit so far as the principles on which she acted were concerned, although her mode of carrying them out may be considered questionable. Circumstances brought her in contact with the scepticism so rife in the present day, and the torture of doubt seized upon her. She felt that her faith was imperilled, and she determined to drive out the demon of unbelief from her soul, by the deliberate devotion of herself to hard work in the cause of CHRIST alone. The emphatic words of Scripture and the experience of many in these times, amply confirms the wisdom of this course, and the ultimate result in Miss Pattison's case was a passionate life-long worship in thought, word, and deed of Him whom she had thus sought with so much earnest sincerity. Nevertheless, her first step was one which, as a matter of detail, she herself condemned in her maturer years, because it involved an act of disobedience to her father for which she expressed her contrition on her death-bed. Contrary to his wish she answered an advertisement for a village schoolmistress at a distance from her home, and went to reside there quite alone in a little cottage, without even a servant. Her work among the children was highly successful, and she assisted the clergyman in his parish in many other ways. Still she was not satisfied that her devotion of herself was sufficiently complete, and after a time she left her post to join the Sisterhood of the Good Samaritan at Coatham, whose work consisted chiefly in the care of the sick. This proved to have been a great mistake. She had no vocation for community life, and she was an exceptional person in every way, her intellectual powers, her unconquerable will, and her extraordinary physical strength made it difficult for her to work in harmony with others less peculiarly gifted. She went

through some very painful experiences, and in the end ceased to be a member of that institute, yet her residence with them had the happy effect of determining her true vocation, which was undoubtedly the care of the sick. She qualified herself for this work with the energy which characterised all her proceedings. She studied anatomy in the dissecting room, and went through a course of instruction in medicine and surgery, which enabled her to become not only the nurse but the house surgeon of the hospital where ultimately her life was spent. This was at Walsall in the Black country. While still belonging to the Coatham Sisterhood she was sent to take charge of an infirmary which had been opened there, chiefly on account of the terrible accidents that happened in connection with the factories and iron works, and so great was her success in that position, that when her community proposed to move her to another sphere, the whole town rose in arms against her departure. It was finally decided that the Sisterhood should sever their connection with the hospital, and Sister Dora remained in sole charge of it on her own responsibility.

It is impossible in our brief space to give any idea of her labours in that place and of her marvellous powers of endurance and self-denial. She seems scarcely ever to have rested night or day, and even her own indomitable will in self-sacrifice, could not have carried her through her devoted life had she not also possessed a strength of body most unusual in a woman. We may instance the fact that she not only thought nothing of carrying a stalwart navvy up stairs to his bed when he was brought maimed to her door, but she would also bear his dead body in her arms to the mortuary if no one else was at hand to do so when required.

Sister Dora had very little assistance in the hospital, yet she did not limit her efforts to its wards. For miles around she nursed the sick and worked among the poor and the fallen, and when the smallpox broke out in the town she undertook, perfectly alone, the charge of the temporary hospital to which all those suffering from the disease were conveyed. In that loathsome pest house, which stood in an isolated position far from any help, she remained for six months without even a servant, for the terror inspired by the epidemic was so great, that not one person could be found to assist her. There she struggled with strong men in their delirium and frantic women, and soothed the miserable little babies that wailed all night long. That she should have lived through such an experience seems an absolute miracle, and she herself not only expected, but hoped to be allowed at that time to lay down her life for her brethren, but she was spared for many years more of glorious work, and died at last, after long suffering, from cancer on Christmas Eve, 1878. She was followed to the grave by the whole mourning population of Walsall, among whom her memory is honoured as that of a saint.

Miss Lonsdale, to whom we owe this beautiful history, is a clever writer, and she seems to have been especially anxious that as a biographer she should be strictly impartial. This is a laudable ambition, and much better than the fulsome adulation with which characters very inferior to Sister Dora's are

often described, but Miss Lonsdale has gone beyond what is legitimate in a discriminating judgment of her subject. She often assumes as a certainty that Sister Dora was actuated by motives (not of the most worthy) which could have been known to none save GOD alone, and she sometimes judges her hardly for actions susceptible of a very satisfactory explanation. Sister Dora was not faultless, and she laid herself open to inevitable blame by the excitability which sent her at one time to hear Moody and Sankey, and at another to enter into theological discussions with Monsignor Capel, but when so bright an example of unsparing devotion to our LORD and unwearied love to His people is granted to us in this luxurious age, we ought surely to rejoice in its beauty and light, without seeking jealously to discover the human imperfections which may in some degree have shadowed it.

The Lives of the Saints, supplemented by the names of not a few who have not been honoured with canonization, in an 8vo. volume of 500 pages, is a work in which selection and condensation must have greatly taxed the learning and skill of the compiler. Such however is the Sanctorale Catholicum (Kegan Paul & Co.) of the Rev. Robert Owen, the well-known author of " An Introduction to Dogmatic Theology." Mr. Owen appears to have begun collecting his materials before Mr. Baring Gould's “Lives" were announced, and he confines himself to a much more matter-of-fact style than either he or Mr. Alban Butler have employed. No doubt there is room for books to suit various tastes, and we quite hope that the Sanctorale will find a place for itself. Among the uncanonized Saints commemorated are King Alfred, Mabillon, Samuel Johnson, John Keble, with Bishops Andrewes, Laud, Cosin, Ken, Berkeley, and sundry Welsh Saints, whose names are but little known to general readers. This short notice will perhaps suffice to indicate the character of the book. The notes show very great research. Also there is a good Index, which at present Mr. Baring Gould's "Lives" lack.

The Title of Bible Stories, (Hodges) is alone sufficient to secure many readers for the pretty volume before us. In a future edition however we should like to see both retrenchment carried out, and expansion; for while there is no mention of Noah, or Abraham, or Isaac, there are as many as four Chapters on Joseph. For the price at which this book sells, we might look for a tolerably complete series of" stories,” and the present Author we feel sure could easily supply what is wanting. We should advise the use of rather simpler language in future.

From the same Publisher we have Plain Readings for Sick Persons, which can be confidently recommended. In addition to about twelve chapters of original matter which are beautifully printed, there are Hymns and a useful Table of Readings from Holy Scripture.

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