miny the throne of His divinity; and, not satisfied with this triumph, He willed that we should acknowledge His supreme essence and His eternal life by an adoration which is a startling contradiction to our senses Can such success in such daring be in any way understood?

7. It is true many have endeavored to overthrow His altars; but their powerlessness has but served to confirm His glory. At each outrage, He has seemed to grow greater; genius has protected Him against genius, science against science, empire against empire; whatever arms have been uplifted against Him He has made His own; and, when apparently vanquished, the world has still beheld Him calm, serene, master, adored!

LXII. THE BIRTH OF OUR SAVIOUR.

DOMMET.

1. It was the calm and silent night!-

Seven hundred years and fifty-three
Had Rome been growing up to might,

And now was queen of land and sea!
No sound was heard of clashing wars,
Peace brooded o'er the hushed domain;
Apollo, Pallas, Jove and Mars

Held undisturbed their ancient reign,

In the solemn midnight,

Centuries ago!

2. 'Twas in the calm and silent night!

The senator of haughty Rome
Impatient urged his chariot's flight,
From lordly revel rolling home.
Triumphal arches, gleaming, swell

His breast with thoughts of boundless away;
What recked' the Roman what befell

A paltry province far away,
In the solemn midnight,
Centuries ago.

3. Within that province far away

Went plodding home a weary boor;
A streak of light before him lay,
Fallen through a half-shut stable door
Across his path. He paused, for naught
Told what was going on within;
How keen the stars, his only thought;
The air how calm, and cold, and thin,
In the solemn midnight,
Centuries ago!

4. O, strange indifference!-low and high,
Drowsed over common joys and cares
The earth was still, but knew not why;

The world was listening-unawares!
How calm a moment may precede

One that shall thrill the world forever!
To that still moment none would heed,

Man's doom was linked, no more to sever,
In the solemn midnight,
Centuries ago!

5. It is the calm and solemn night!

A thousand bells ring out, and throw
Their joyous peals abroad, and smite

The darkness, charmed and holy now!
The night that erst no shame had worn,
To it a happy name is given;
For in that stable lay, new-born,

The peaceful Prince of earth and heaven,
In the solemn midnight,

Centuries ago!

I RECK'-ED, heeded; regarded. | 2 DROWS'-ED, Supine; dull

LXIII-DEATH OF ST. THOMAS À BECKET, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY.

LINGARD.

[Thomas à Becket was appointed chancellor shortly after the accession of Henry II., by whom he was treated with the most unbounded confidence and favor. The pomp of his retinue, the sumptuousness of his furniture and apparel, and the luxury of his table, were scarcely surpassed by those of the king himself; and he exercised very great influence in all affairs of state. Being made archbishop of Canterbury, he changed his whole course of life, and became as distinguished in austerity and piety as he had been previously for his luxury and splendor. The king desiring to bring the Church into a greater subservience to the royal power, was vigorously opposed by the archbishop who determined to defend to the last the privileges of the Church. The king, however, succeeded in carrying his measures

for a time, and Becket fled to France. The remainder of his history is told in the following narrative, taken from the "History of England," by Dr Lingard.

1. Becket, after an absence of six years, returned to England, accompanied by John, Bishop of Oxford. He carried with him letters of excommunication against three prelates, for having officiated at the coronation of the son of Henry, and otherwise abetting the king. These prelates sent soldiers to seize the letters; but Becket, hearing of their intention, gave them to a messenger, who handed them publicly to the bishops, at which circumstance they were so indignant, that they went to Henry, in France, and endeavored as much as possible to rekindle discord between him and Becket.

2. Under the protection of his conductor, the primate reached Canterbury, where he was joyfully received by the clergy and people. Thence he prepared to visit Woodstock, the residence of the young Henry, to pay his respects to the prince, and to justify his late conduct; but the courtiers, who dreaded his influence over the mind of his former pupil, procured a peremptory order for him to return, and confine himself to his own diocese. He obeyed, and spent the following days in prayer and the functions of his station.

3. Yet they were days of distress and anxiety. The menaces of his enemies seemed to derive importance from each succeeding event. His provisions were

hourly intercepted; his property was plundered; his servants were beaten and insulted. On Christmas-day he ascended the pulpit; his sermon was distinguished by the earnestness and animation with which he spoke. At the conclusion, he observed that those who thirsted for his blood would soon be satisfied, but that he would first avenge the wrongs of his church by excommunicating Ranulph and Robert de Broc, who for seven years had not ceased to inflict every injury in their power on him, on his clergy, and on his monks.

4. On the following Tuesday, four knights, Reginald Fitzurse, William Tracy, Hugh de Moreville, and Richard Brito, arrived secretly in the neighborhood. They had been present in Normandy, when the king, irritated by the representations of the three bishops, had exclaimed, "Of the cowards who eat my bread, is there not one who will free me from this turbulent priest?" and mistaking this passionate expression for the royal license, had bound themselves by oath to return to England, and either carry off or murder the primate. They assembled at Saltwood, the residence of the Brocs, to arrange their operations.

5. The next day, after dinner, when the archbishop was transacting business in a private apartment, it was announced that four knights wished to speak with him from the king. He ordered them to be admitted, and at the same time sent for the principal persons in his household to be present. The knights entered very