Reader.

Sons.

Reader.

I have lived through many winters,
Seen the nations rise and prosper,
Seen the nations fall and wither,-
War and famine kill their thousands,
But the wine its tens of thousands.
Lift your hands, ye sons of Rechab,
In a promise strong and holy,
That the wine shall never tempt you!

And they lifted up, obedient,

Strong men's hands without delaying,
And they vowed the vow he bade them:

While the man's strong soul is in us,
While the angels stoop above us,
While our children rise beside us,
While we rule our people's councils,
Never shall the wine-cup tempt us.
Jonadab, the son of Rechab,
Called his daughters to his presence;
To them spoke in tones of counsel,
To them spoke in earnest fashion:

Jonadab.- Promise by a daughter's duty,
Promise by a mother's loving,

By the babes ye taught their praying,
By the sons ye name with blessing,
By the present and the future,

That the wine shall be untasted.

Reader.

And they lifted up their clean hands,
Firm with all a matron's power,

Warm with all a mother's loving,

Thus they answered, Rechab's daughters:

Daughters. By the sweetness of our girlhood,
By our womanhood of power,

Reader.

By the children in our folding,
By the brothers in our household,
Shall the wine remain untasted.

Jonadab, the son of Rechab,
With the lines upon his forehead,
With his white beard flowing downward,
Called his children's sons around him,-
Said the while they gravely listened:

Jonadab. Children's sons, attend my counsel:
I have watched Orion's glory
From the zenith sinking downward:
I have heard the desert lion,
Seen the keen eyes of the tiger,
Passed the adder in the pathway;-
Fiercer, deadlier is the viper
Lurking in the cup of drinking.
Lift your hands in solemn vowing,
That the wine-cup shall not tempt you!

Reader.

And the young men, in the gladness Of their youth and of their growing, Lifted up their strong hands, eager With the promise of their future: Grandsons.-By the boy's glad life behind us, By the man's rich life before us, By the golden hopes that call us, By the future we shall conquer, Thus we promise, father's father, That the wine-cup shall not tempt us.

Reader.

Jonadab, the son of Rechab,
Called the little ones around him,
Children of his children's children,
Lifted up his aged forehead,
Wrinkled by a hundred summers,
With the thin white hair above it
Whitened by a hundred winters.
Thus he spake, the dying father:

Jonadab. Children of my children's children,
I have seen the tiny acorn

Reader.

Grow the oak of hundred branches;

I have seen the maggot creeping
Till the palace fell in ruins;

I have seen the races vanish

Like the hoar-frost in the sunlight.
Promise by your mother's kisses,
That the wine shall never tempt you!

And the children, smiling shyly,
Looking up with love and wonder,
Held up little fingers dimpled,
Saying, with small, baby voices:

Children. By the kisses of our mother,
By the smiling of our father,
By the sunlight on our playing,
By the starlight on our praying,
Never shall the wine-cup tempt us.
Ages past, and ages vanished,

Reader.

Children grew to men white-headed,
And their children filled their places.
Then the prophet, from God's altar
Lifted up the bowl of silver,
Filled with wine to overflowing,
Spake unto the tribe of Rechab:

Prophet. Drink, yea, drink, ye sons of Rechab;
See, I fill the bowl of blessing!

Reader.

Sons.

Reader.

Answered thus the strong men, bowing:

Jonadab, the son of Rechab,
Father of our many hundreds,
Bade us leave the wine untasted.
As we loved a father's blessing,
Through a hundred years obedient,
We have left the wine untasted.

Then the prophet heard God's blessing
Sweeping from the golden portal
Thundering past the holy altar,
Speaking in his lips that trembled:
Thus He saith, the God of Israel,
Thus He saith, the Lord Jehovah:
"I will bless the sons obedient,
Of Jonadab, the son of Rechab,
Evermore before my presence

I will set his children's children."

"LOVE IS OVER ALL."-MRS. E. V. WILSON.

It was Christmas morn; two angels flew from heaven's gates to earth. Said one, the younger, "I long to see this world of which I have so often heard; surely there all is happiness, since He, our well beloved, has been among them; how they must love Him." And now, as

they neared the earth, they saw in quiet villages and country homes, happy groups clustered around bright firesides or gathered about bountiful tables; even in the lowly cottages of the poor, some extra dish was added to the humble fare, while little gifts, trifling in money's worth, but rich with love, made glad the hearts of giver and receiver. "They love Him, they remember Him," said the angel, as he saw that even in places where death had been a guest, where faces were pale, and mourning robes were worn, even there, wan lips smiled and dim eyes brightened as the Christmas bells rung out, and from quivering hearts in broken accents came the words: "O Death! where is thy sting; O Grave! where is thy victory?" On, on, the angels sped, until they saw beneath them the glittering domes and spires of a great city. Descending they walked its streets, seeing stately homes where jewels shone, and silken robes glistened in the soft, warm light; where bright eyes flashed and red lips smiled with pleasure. And then came humbler dwellings; here too, all was joy; the merry laugh of childhood mingled with the songs of youth, and age smiled lovingly on the pleasures of the young. "Here, also," said the angel, "they must remember Him, for listen to them singing with glad voices the Christmas songs." But ah! the lights grow dim, the air seems colder; it chills the heart, for now they reach the miserable homes of poverty; see, where together crouch the mother and her children. Here no feast is spread, no warm lights glow. The hungry babe strives vainly with pale lips to draw from the shrunken breast life's nourishment. The children reach their thin blue hands for bread, while the wretched mother cries: "For us no Christ was born." The pitying angels veil their eyes and the younger asks: "Oh, where are those who love Him?" "Look!" said the elder. The door is opened, a woman clad in costly apparel enters, men follow, a fire is speedily kindled, a table spread, warm clothing is

wrapped about shivering figures, and up from grateful hearts arise glad notes of prayer and praise; and the angels whisper: "I was naked and ye clothed me, I was hungered and ye gave me food." On went the heavenly visitors, and now the haunts of sin appal them, vile oaths and ribald jests pollute the air, staggering forms reel by. Surely, these have never heard His name. They know Him not," one says, "can He love them ?" And sadly his companion answers: "Know ye not, it was not the righteous but sinners He came to save?" "And these are sinners, this is sin," went on the other, "how horrible." "And," said the elder angel, " all the want, all the sorrow, all the suffering of the world comes from sin; to the palaces of the rich, to the dwellings of the poor this poison spreads." Tears filled the eyes of both, as the younger asked: "Have they never heard of Him? Did He suffer in vain ?" "In vain!" repeated the elder; nay, not in vain; some not far distant morn, the Christmas bells will ring: 'Peace is on earth, and good will among men; glory to God, and to Him that was slain; hallelujahs forevermore!" Then toward heaven. they took their flight. Death saw and bade them pause. "See," he cried, throwing back his dark mantle, "here is my Christmas gift. Thus I pay tribute to my conqueror. Bear it to Him from me. I found it in the midst of sin and woe. I have saved it from a life of guilt and misery." Quickly the younger angel clasped the gift, a lovely child that smiled its joy upon its deliverer. Thus," said the elder as he bent to kiss the babe, even death and sin yield unto Him; see you not now, that love is over all ?"

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A GALLANT WESCUE.-W. SAPTE, JR.

Aw, I daresay you'll hardly cwedit the stowy I'm going to tell, For I'm only the son of a Marquis, a wegular hopeless swell; And I know that it's most unusual for a bloated awistocwat To be anything like a hewo, but-aw-I flatter myself I'm that.