stirring, enterprising city resounds

with the heavy clang and murmur of traffic and pleasure-making along its ancient streets. The river, guarded, as

Reprinted from "The Penny Post."

it were, with its noisy quays, is crowded with vessels freighted with every kind of precious burden. Its waters seem black with weariness-as if it were almost exhausted at having for many a long year been the chief channel for conveying importance and opulence to those by whose habitations it has flowed.

A few casual visitors to this city, so sleeplessly and undauntedly committed to the search for gold, are crossing over the river in a ferry-boat. As the ferryman pushes off from the bank, he enters into conversation with his companions.

Taking courage from their friendliness and unreserve in talking on passing topics, he wishes to "make bold," and put a question to one of them. He is a poor, weather-beaten, unpolished-looking man. His dress and person unmistakeably betoken with what rude fare he has to be content. This man, then, toil-worn and haggard as he is, briefly and artlessly enquires, to the surprise of his listeners, "At what time was Christ born?"-giving expression to the inquiry by a look brightening with interest.

What is the time of the Sinless

Infant's birth to him?-poor outcast from the world's refinement and intelligence! Just this when he has returned at night to his cheerless home, and the half-empty streets mockingly glitter with their lights, and the comfortable, luxurious houses, with their bright-red windows, seem to gaze upon him with unfeeling selfishness, or when, in early morning, while most are taking their rest, he comes out, cold and hungry, his heart will grow warm again with courage and gratitude, for he knows that Christ, as Man, was born for our sakes