Peace and glo - ry ev - er - more–And let the bells ring
Shep-herds heard on Bethlehem's plain—The while the bells ring
In a Christ-mas song of praise–And let the bells ring

mer - ri - ly, Ring mer - ri - ly, ring mer - ri- ".
mer - ri - ly, Ring mer - ri - ly, ring mer - ri - ly.
mer - ri - ly, Ring mer - ri - ly, ring mer - ri - ly.

5.

THE KING's solDIER. - 32 THE KNEELING OF THE OX. - # O WATCH the kneeling of the Ox on Christmas Day was

#: once the custom in many parts of the country. “In the ** **

western parts of Devonshire,” says Mr. Brand, “a superstitious notion prevails, that at twelve o'clock at night on Christmas Eve the oxen in their stalls are always found on the knees, as in an attitude of devotion; and that (which is still more singular) since the alteration of the Style they continue to do. this only on the Eve of old Christmas Day. An honest countryman living on the edge of S. Stephen's Down, near Launceston, Cornwall, informed me, Oct. 28th, 1790, that he once, with some others, made trial of the truth of the above; and watching several oxen in their stalls at the above time, at twelve o'clock at night, they observed the two oldest oxen only fall upon their knees and, as he expressed it in the idiom of the country, make ‘a cruel moan like. Christian creatures. I could not but with difficulty keep my countenance. He saw, and seemed angry that I gave so little. credence to his tale; and walking off in a peevish humour, seemed to ‘marvel at my unbelief. There is an old print of the Nativity in which the oxen in the stable, near the Virgin and Child, are represented upon their knees, as in a suppliant posture. This. graphic representation has probably given rise to the above superstitious notion on this head.”

And yet a Christian may firmly believe the ox and the ass did so kneel on the first Christmas night, as they are represented in the old Print, and in Overbeck's beautiful Picture; for “the or knoweth his Owner and the ass his Master's crib; silent witnesses of the mystery angels were adoring; eloquent reprovers of man's irreVerence and unbelief.

THE KING'S SOLDIER.

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN.”
(Concluded from Page 306.)

Several months passed. The blossoms had fallen from the trees, the fruit was ripening. Certainly Christian and his mother and grandmother, in their back street lodging, had not much noticed that the glorious summer had given place to autumn, but they were not on that account without fruit. They had each done their duty; even poor little Christian had been watchful at his post. He had borne his pain silently and patiently, and when his slender strength at all permitted, he had tried with his thin, weak hands to make grenadiers from his grandmother's pattern, which he had already far surpassed. He had also, it is true, met with much kind help. His neighbours, the furrier, the glover, the bookseller, and the leather merchant, gave the sick boy so many shreds, rags, and remants of all kinds, that he soon had a little regiment of gallant soldiers. He made them fight battles and mount guard at the king's door; and he thought of what his grandmother had said, that he, the poor sickly cripple, was a soldier of the King of Heaven, and that comforted him. If his dear mother would only not look at him so sorrowfully He was always an anxiety to her; he knew it well. Oh! how he wished that she might some day shed tears of joy for him, and that he might be, not a burden to her, but a pleasure. Just lately she had been particularly uneasy, for her eyes were growing weak, and she felt that she would soon be obliged to give up working at fine embroidery. What would happen then 2 Of course, if she could buy a sewing machine—but then she would never have money to do that. One lovely autumn day, Christian was sitting alone in his grandmother's chair. Beside him stood his soldiers propped up against the window pane. He was in such great pain that day that he could neither plan new grenadiers nor play with the old ones, and there was a very sad look in his eyes. “Good Lord, I will be very patient and very brave, and bear the pain well, but please help dear mother.”

A knock came at the window. He looked up; a boy's rosy face was peering in. “Are those pretty grenadiers put there for sale 2" called out a clear voice. “For sale 2" “Yes, this is is my little brother's birthday, and I should like to give him one of those grenadiers. What is

the price?” Christian's cheeks grew rather red. “I

don't know,” faltered

- he. “I've got sixpence; will you give me one for that ?”

“Yes.”

“Open the window them.”

Christian obeyed; the young stranger then picked out the smartest grenadier and gave Christian a bright sixpence, at which he was still gazing when his grandmother came home.

“Grandmother,” said he, radiant with joy, “I have been made a captain "

“I felt sure you would be promoted. Where is your commission ?” She smiled kindly as she said this, for it always pleased her to see him cheerful and in a mood for joking.