in the Khan. Perhaps friendly women were still passing to and fro on errands of mercy, when the shepherds reached the "stable." There they found, perhaps not what they expected, but as they had been told. The holy group only consisted of the humble Virgin-Mother, the lowly carpenter of Nazareth, and the Babe laid in the manger. What further passed we know not, save that, having seen it for themselves, the shepherds told what had been spoken to them about this Child, to all around-in the stable, in the fields, probably also in the Temple, to which they would bring their flocks, thereby preparing the minds of a Simeon, of an Anna, and all of them that looked for salvation in Israel. And now the hush of wondering expectancy fell once more on all, who heard what was told by the shepherds -this time not only in the hill-country of Judæa, but within the wider circle that embraced Bethlehem and the Holy City. And yet it seemed all so sudden, so strange. That on such slender thread, as the feeble throb of an Infant-life, the salvation of the world should hang-and no special care watch over its safety, no better shelter be provided it than a "Stable," no other cradle than a manger! And still it is ever so. On what slender thread has the continued life of the Church often seemed to hang; on what feeble throbbing that of every child of God-with no visible outward means to ward off danger, no home of comfort, no rest of ease. But, "Lo, children are Jehovah's heritage!" and "So giveth He to His beloved in his sleep."-From Life and Times of Jesus, the Messiah.

EDGAR, JOHN GEORGE, a British biographer and novelist, was born at Hutton, in Berwickshire, Scotland, in 1834; died April 22, 1864. He entered a house of business at Liverpool and visited the West Indies on mercantile affairs, but soon deserted commerce and devoted himself to literature. His earliest publication was the Boyhood of Great Men, in 1853, which he followed up in the same year with a companion volume entitled Footprints of Famous Men. In the course of the next ten years he wrote as many as fifteen other volumes intended for the reading of boys. Some of these were biographical, and the remainder took the form of narrative fiction based on historical facts illustrative of different periods of English history. Edgar was especially familiar with early English and Scottish history, and possessed a wide knowledge of border tradition. He was the first editor of Every Boy's Magazine. In the intervals of his other work Edgar found time to contribute political articles, written from a strongly conservative point of view, to the London press. Under his close and continuous application to work his health broke down, and he died of congestion of the brain after a short illness. The books referred to above, other than those which have been mentioned by name, were: History for Boys; Heroes of England; Crusades and Crusaders; Sea-Kings and

Naval Heroes; Wars of the Roses; Cavaliers and Roundheads; Memorable Events of Modern History; How I Won my Spurs; Danes, Saxons and Normans; Noble Dames of Ancient Story; Anecdotes of Ani mals; Cressy and Poictiers; The Boy Crusaders ; Runnymede and Lincoln Fair.

The spirit in which he wrote his books for the young may be understood from these words, which occur in the preface to The Crusades: “I believe that the examples of the great men whose gallant deeds are depicted in the following pages, are calculated to exercise a wholesome influence on the minds of youthful readers;" and the esti mation in which they have been held by those who are interested in good literature is indicated by what the London Observer said of his Boyhood of Great Men: That it "may claim more than merely the merit of good intentions-it may claim the praise of excellent execution;" and what the London Standard said of The Footprints of Famous Men: That it is "a very useful and agreeable volume. Useful, as biography is always an important ally to history, and because it gives another blow to the waning idea that any eminence has ever been attained without. severe labor."

ST. BERNARD AND THE SECOND CRUSADE.

In the year 1137, when England was entering on the dynastic war between Stephen and the Empress Maud, which terminated in the accession of the Plantagenets to the throne, Louis VI., after having governed France for thirty years, with credit to himself and advantage to his kingdom, departed this life at Paris. When pros

trated on his uneasy couch, the dying king gave his heir that kind of advice which comes so solemnly from the lips of a man whose soul is going to judgment. "Remember," says he, "that royalty is a public trust, for the exercise of which a rigorous account will be exacted by Him who has the sole disposal of crowns." Louis the Young, to whom this admonition was addressed, ascended the French throne when scarcely more than eighteen, and espoused Eleanor, daughter of the Duke of Aquitaine. The king, who had been educated with great care, gave promise of rivalling the policy and prowess of his father; and the young queen, besides being endowed by fortune with a magnificent duchy, had been gifted by nature with rare beauty and intellect. Everything prognosticated a prosperous future.

Scarcely, however, had Louis taken the reins of government, than the prospect was clouded by the insubordination of the Court of Champagne and the pretensions of the Pope. Louis, not daunted by the league which they formed, mounted his war-horse, and set out to maintain his authority. But the expedition terminated in a tragical event, which seemed to change the king's nature. While besieging Vitey, he cruelly set fire to a church in which the inhabitants had taken refuge; and having burned the edifice, with thirteen hundred human beings within its walls, he experienced such remorse that for some time afterward he had hardly courage to look upon the face of day. The tragical scene was ever present to the young king's memory; and while still brooding painfully over the crime, news of the fall of Edessa reached France. The idea of pacifying his conscience by a new crusade immediately occurred; and an assembly of barons and bishops was summoned to consider the project. This assembly submitted the propriety of such an enterprise to the Pope, and who after expressing approval, confided to St. Bernard the preaching of a new crusade.

Bernard-who was then Abbot of Clairvaux, and at the height of his fame-entered upon his mission with zeal. Having, in the spring of 1146, convoked an assembly at Vezelay, he presented himself in the garb of an ancho

rite, and, on a hill outside the town, addressed an immense concourse, among whom figured the King and Queen of France, surrounded by barons and prelates. Never was an orator more successful. Indeed, Bernard produced an impression hardly less marvellous than Peter the Hermit had done half a century earlier; and, as he concluded, his audience raised the old cry of "God wills it!

While the hillside was ringing with enthusiastic shouts, Louis, throwing himself on his knees, received the cross; and Eleanor immediately followed her husband's example. Shouts of "The Cross! The Cross!" then rose on all hands; and peers and peasants, bishops and burghers, rushing forward, cast themselves at Bernard's fect. Such was the demand, that the crosses provided for the occasion were quite insufficient. But Bernard, tearing up his vestments, got over the difficulty; and the sacred emblem soon appeared on every shoulder.

Elate with the success of his oratory, Bernard travelled through France, preaching the crusade; and having in every city and province roused the enthusiasm. of the populace, he repaired to Germany. At that time the crown of the Empire of the West rested on the brow of Conrad III.-but not quite so easily as he could have wished. In fact, the German Kaiser had a formidable rival in the Duke of Bavaria, and felt the reverse of secure. When, therefore, Bernard reached Spires, and asked the Emperor to arm for the defence of the Holy Sepulchre, Conrad, who was holding a Diet, evinced no ardor for the enterprise. "Consider," he said, "the troubles in which the empire would be involved." "The Holy See," said Bernard, "has placed you on the imperial throne, and knows how to support you there. If you defend God's heritage, the Church will take care of yours."

But still Conrad hesitated; and the preacher's eloquence was exerted in vain. At length, one day when Bernard was saying Mass before the emperor and the princes and the lords assembled at Spires, he paused in the midst of the service to expatiate on the guilt of those who refused to fight against Christ's enemies; and produced such an effect while picturing the Day of Judg