Herod was arranging his plans with malicious skill, and as he imagined, with secrecy; but there was an eye that watched his movements with unsleeping vigilance, and a wisdom invisibly operating to counteract his purposes. The Magi were forewarned, by a heavenly vision, not to return to this foe of the holy Jesus; and an angel appeared to Joseph, directing him to escape with the mother and child into Egypt; and thus did Herod himself unconsciously fulfil the ancient oracle; "Out of Egypt have I called my Son." The cruel archer shot at the Saviour's life, but the arrow rebounded and took his own. Behold, then, Mary and Joseph, with their infant charge, hastening, in obedience to the divine command, to a distance from the persecutor's fury! See them under the covert of darkness, and amidst the silence of night, flying to their appointed place of exile; still under the guidance of that hand which regulated all the events of their lives, with no less wisdom and constancy than it directed the movements and fixed the positions of the planetary and starry orbs, which glittered upon their adventurous path. Observe them trembling with human fears, but sustained by spiritual consolations! Mary presses the infant fugitive to her maternal breast, still "keeping all these things, and pondering them in her heart;" incapable of fully penetrating the cloud that obscures their present destiny, but looking through the tears of anguish to her divine Protector and Guide, believing that the light of Israel cannot be extinguished. In some respects, they "knew not whither they went;" but each was, no doubt, inspired by the devout sentiment of the poet: "I hold by nothing here below, Appoint my journey and I go; Though pierced by scorn, oppress'd by pride, I feel thee good--feel nought beside. No frowns of men can hurtful prove To souls on fire with heav'nly love; Though men and devils both condemn, No gloomy days arise for them. While place we seek, or place we shun, The soul finds happiness in none; But with a God to guide our way, 'Tis equal joy to go or stay. Could I be cast where thou art not, That were indeed a dreadful lot: But regions none remote I call, Secure of finding God in all." _Mad. Guion_. Herod, whose cruelty and duplicity were equally conspicuous, finding that the young child had by some means eluded his grasp, meditated the deepest revenge, which, like a smothered flame, the longer it is confined, the more violently at last it blazes.