They defiled one by one, prostrating themselves before the altar, and kneeling in turn on the stone floor, surrounding entirely the grating of the choir. True assemblage of the faithful! The men, a strong soldiery in front, the women behind, a more humble crowd, but each forgetting the other, living but for one thought--for God. For God is not for these _barbarians_ what he is for us; we, _civilized inhabitants_ of cities, we try to explain God, and even on our knees in his temples we analyze him, comment upon his acts, and even doubt if he exists. They spend no time in such vain thoughts, barren meditations: for them God is; they know and believe in him. He made the heaven over their heads, the earth that produces their harvests, made them themselves, and preserves them or takes them to him. He is the Invisible who can do everything, from the heights of the heavens, and everywhere at once; and in comparison with this All-Powerful they feel their littleness, prostrate themselves and adore. ---------- Count De Montalembert. In that drear twilight, herald of the day On which new faith, new hope, new love were born, And while my heart still pressed against the thorn Of unbelief, like some fresh matin lay Of forest warbler in his own loved May, Broke, Montalembert, on my trance forlorn, Elizabeth's young voice, which sang death's scorn In carols with celestial transports gay. Now, when cool evening's earliest pensive shade Creeps o'er my life, as clear and jubilant As that wild mocking-bird's, is heard the chant Of mighty abbots, whose processions fade Into the dark of ages, made by thee New themes for thought and holy minstrelsy. ---------- {129} Rings. Looking over an old jewel-case, the other day, I found a ring; no treasured heirloom or _gage d'amour_ of by-gone days, but a simple black circlet, whose sole ornament was a silver heart, on which were engraved in rude fashion the letters VA. The sight of it recalled a stormy day during the winter of 1864, when a pale and emaciated Confederate soldier knocked at our door and asked for shelter. Of course, it was cheerfully granted. On questioning him we learned that he had suffered the rigor of prison life for two years; had just been released, and was _en route_ to join his regiment before Petersburg. Upon leaving, he thanked me for our hospitality, and begged my acceptance of this little ring, the making of which had served to while away the tedium of captivity. I put it carefully aside, and the lapse of time and other more stirring events had almost obliterated the circumstance from my mind, until it was thus revived.