And he was so severe in hunting down his enemies, that he must have got together a pretty large family of these dear brothers.

2. He was strongly inclined to kill Edmund and Edward, two children, sons of Edmund, surnamed Ironside : but, being afraid to do so in England, he sent them over to the King of Sweden, with a request that the king would be so good as to "dispose of them." If the King of Sweden had been like many, many other men of that day, he would have had their innocent throats cut; but he was a kind man, and brought them up tenderly.

3. Normandy ran much in Ca'nūte's mind. In Normandy were the two children of the late king— Edward and Alfred by name; and their uncle, the Duke, might one day claim the crown for them. But the Duke showed so little inclination to do so now, that he proposed to Canute to marry his sister, the widow of King Ethelred; and she, being but a showy flower, and caring for nothing143 so much as becoming a queen again, left her children and was wedded to him.

4. Successful and triumphant, assisted by the valor of the English in his foreign wars, and with little strife to trouble him at home, Canute had a prosperous reign, and made many improvements. He was a poet and a musician. He grew sorry, as he grew older, for the blood he had shed at first, and went to Rome in a Pilgrim's dress, by way of washing it out. He gave a great deal of money to foreigners on his journey; but he took it from the English before he started. On the whōle, however, he certainly became a far better man wher. he had no opposition to contend with, and was as great a king as England had known for some time.

5. The old writers of history relate how that Canute was one day disgusted with his courtiers for their flattery, and how he caused his chair to be set on the sea-shore, and feigned to command the tide, as it came up, not to wet the edge of his robe, for the land was his; how the tide came up, of course, without regarding him; and how he then turned to his flatterers, and rebuked them, saying, what was the might of any earthly king to the might of the Creator, who could say unto the sea, "Thus far shalt thou go, and no further"?

6. We may learn from this, I think, that a litt.e sense will go a long way in a king; and that courtiers are not easily cured of flattery, nor kings of a liking for it. If the courtiers of Canute had not known, long before, that the king was fond of flattery, they would have known better than to offer it in such large doses. And if they had not known that he was vain of this speech (anything but a wonderful speech, it seems to me, if a good child had made it),172 they would not have been at such great pains to repeat it. I fancy I see them all on the sea-shore together; the king's chair sinking in the sand; the king in a mighty good humor with his own wisdom; and the courtiers pretending to be quite stunned by it!

7. It is not the sea alone that is bidden to go "thus far, and no further." The great command goes forth to all the kings upon the earth; and went to Canute in the year one thousand and thirty-five, and stretched him dead upon his bed. Beside it stood his Norman wife. Perhaps, as the king looked his last upon her, he, who had so often thought distrustfully of Normandy long ago, thought once more of the two exiled princes in their uncle's court, and of the little favor they could feel for either Danes or Saxons, and of a rising cloud in Normandy that slowly moved toward England. Dickens.

LITTLE Gretchen, little Gretchen wanders up and down the street;
The snow is on her yellow hair, the frost is at her feet.

The rows of long, dark houses without look cold and damp,
By the struggling of the moonbeam, by the flicker of the lamp.
The clouds ride fast as horses, the wind is from the north,
But no one cares for Gretchen, and no one looketh forth.
Within those dark, damp houses are merry faces bright,
And happy hearts are watching out the old year's latest night.

2.

With the little box of matches she could not sell all day,
And the thin, thin tattered mantle the wind blows every way,
She clingeth to the railing, she shivers in the gloom,—
There are parents sitting snugly by firelight in the room;

And children with grave faces are whispering one another
Of presents for the new year, for father or for mother.
But no one talks to Gretchen, and no one hears her speak,
No breath of little whisperers comes warmly to her cheek.

3.

No little arms are round her: ah me! that there should be,
With so much happiness on earth, so much of misery!

Sure they of many blessings should scatter blessings round,
As laden boughs in autumn fling their ripe fruits to the ground.
And the best love man can offer to the God of love, be sure,
Is kindness to his little ones, and bounty to his poor.
Little Gretchen, little Gretchen goes coldly on her way;
There's no one looketh out at her, there's no one bids her stay.

4.

Her home is cold and desolate; no smile, no food, no fire,
But children clamorous for bread, and an impatient sire.
So she sits down in an angle where two great houses meet,
And she curleth up beneath her, for warmth, her little feet;
And she looketh on the cold wall, and on the colder sky,
And wonders if the little stars are bright fires up on high.
She hears a clock strike slowly, up in a far church tower,
With such a sad and solemn tone, telling the midnight hour.

5.

And she remembered her of tales her mother used to tell,
And of the cradle-songs she sang, when summer's twilight fell;
Of good men and of angels, and of the Holy Child,
Who was cradled in a manger, when winter was most wild;
Who was poor, and cold, and hungry, and desolate and lone;
And she thought the song had told he was ever with his own;
And all the poor and hungry and forsaken ones are his,―
"How good of Him to look on me in such a place as this!”

6.

Colder it grows and colder, but she does not feel it now,
For the pressure at her heart, and the weight upon her brow;
But she struck one little match on the wall so cold and bare,
That she might look around her, and see if He were there.
The single match has kindled, and by the light it threw
It seemed to little Gretchen the wall was rent in two;
And she could see folks seated at a table richly spread,
With heaps of goodly viands, red wine and pleasant bread.

7.

She could smell the fragrant savor, she could hear what they did say Then all was darkness once again, the match had burned away.

She struck another hastily, and now she seemed to see
Within the same warm chamber a glorious Christmas tree.
The branches were all laden with things that children prize,
Bright gifts for boy and maiden - she saw them with her eyes.

And she almost seemed to touch them, and to join the welcome shout,
When darkness fell around her, for the little match was out.

8.

Another, yet another, she has tried they will not light;
Till all her little store she took, and struck with all her might:
And the whole miserable place was lighted with the glare,
And she dreamed there stood a little child before her in the air.
There were blood-drops on his forehead, a spear-wound in his side,
And cruel nail-prints in his feet, and in his hands spread wide.
And he looked upon her gently, and she felt that he had known
Pain, hunger, cold, and sorrow -ay, equal to her own.

9.

And he pointed to the laden board and to the Christmas tree,
Then up to the cold sky, and said, "Will Gretchen come with me?”
The poor
child felt her pulses fail, she felt her eyeballs swim,
And a ringing sound was in her ears, like her dead mother's hymn :
And she folded both her thin white hands, and turned from that bright board,
And from the golden gifts, and said, "With thee, with thee, O Lord! "
The chilly winter morning breaks up in the dull skies

On the city wrapt in vapor, on the spot where Gretchen lies.

10.

In her scant and tattered garment, with her back against the wall,
She sitteth cold and rigid, she answers to no call.

They have lifted her up fearfully, they shuddered as they said,

"It was a bitter, bitter night! the child is frozen dead."

The angels sang their greeting for one more redeemed from sin;

Men said, "It was a bitter night; would no one let her in?"

And they shivered as they spoke of her, and sighed. They could not see Icw much of happiness there was after that misery.

Anon.*

XXVII

- DEVOTIONAL THOUGHTS ON SPRING.

1. PRAISE the Lord, O my soul! Adore his holy name! For who is mightier than he, the Creator of the universe, who spread

*A prose narrative by Andersen, the Danish poet, has furnished the groundwork for this poem.

eth before us the feasts of the earth, and foundeth the glories of the heavens? Who is more inexhaustible* in goodness and compassion than he, who giveth alike the happiness of the worm and the hallelujah" of rejoicing angels?

2. Praise the Lord, O my soul! For he is thy God, who, through the riches of the universe, foreshadoweth the joys of heaven; who giveth to the blade of grass the refreshing dew,18 and to the eye of man the tears of joy; he is thy God and thy Father.

3. Praise the Lord, O my soul! For he strewed 52 upon thee the blossoms of spring, as, full of child-like innocence, thou didst smile in thy mother's arms; and this day he surrounds thee with his wonders, that thou mayest adore him with rapturous love.

4. Praise the Lord, O my soul!- People and nations, princes and principalities, change; the earth alters its form, and the countless stars glitter and vanish: he only is immutably great, for he liveth in majesty from everlasting to everlasting. His compassion knoweth no change, and his love endureth forever.

5. Ye fountains, shaded by blossoming shrubs; ye willowbordered 108 brooks,146 that murmur along your pebbly paths; ye rivers, whose mighty billows bear ships, laden with the riches of the world, join louder in the anthems to the Lord!

6. Ye woods, on green hills and mountains; ye leafy branches, ye shrubs, laden with the blossoms of spring, — wave and rustle, and reëcho to your Maker the grateful warbling of birds!

7. From the gladsome valleys rise the voices of the flocks that graze on pastures blooming with flowers in all the colors of the rainbow. In the wilderness the joyful lion roars.

8 Praise the Lord, O my soul, and let all creation praise his holy name! Ye nations within the circle of the earth, fall upon your knees in adoration of your Creator, and render thanks for his inexhaustible goodness! The dead and living, man and beast, and the spirits of brighter worlds- the whole immensity of the universe all stars, all suns - proclaim :— Holy, holy is the Lord our God, whose love endureth forever!

9. For who can behold the works of God without emotion?

The h in this word should be sounded. See T 72