"_And there were shepherds--The Lord is my shepherd--Unto us a child is born--I know that my Redeemer liveth--I know in whom I have believed--In my Father's house are many mansions--I go to prepare a place for you--Where I am you may be also--The earth shall pass away, but my word will not pass away--Now is Christ risen from the dead--Trailing clouds of glory do we come from God Who is our home--Thou wilt not leave us in the dust--Sunset and evening star, and one clear call for me--My Pilot face to face when I have crost the bar--_" In the room was the spiritual hymn of the whole earth from the beginning until now: that somewhere in the universe there is a Father and a Fatherland; that on a dying planet under a dying sun amid myriads of dying stars there is something that does not die--the Youth of Man. In that youth all that had been best in him will come to fullest life; all that was worst will have dropped away. The room was very still awhile. Then upon its intense stillness there broke a sound--faint, far away through the snow-thickened air--a melody of coming sleigh-bells. All heard, all listened. "Hark, hark! Do you hear! Listen! They are coming for me! They're coming!" The Tree shook as he who was sitting under its branches rose to his feet with these words. "That is father's sleigh: I know those bells: those are our sleigh-bells. That is father!" said a grave boy excitedly. "Ah! Is that what _you_ think _I_ hear! Then indeed it is time for me to be going!" There was a rustling of the boughs of the Christmas Tree as though the guest were leaving. Nearer, nearer, nearer, along the turnpike came the sound of the bells. At the front gate the sound suddenly ceased. "They're waiting for me!" said a voice from behind the Tree as it moved away in the direction of the chimney. Then all heard something more startling still. The sleigh was approaching the house. Out of the silence and the darkness of Christmas Eve there was travelling toward the house another story--the drama of a man's life. At the distance of a few hundred yards the sound of the sleigh-bells, borne softly into the room and to the rapt listeners, showed that the driver had turned out of the main drive and begun to encircle the house by that path which enclosed it as within a ring--within the symbol of the eternal. Under old trees now snow-laden, past the flower-beds of summer, past the long branches of flowering shrubs and of roses that no longer scattered their petals, but now dropped the flowers of the sky, past thoughts and memories, it made its way: as for one who doubles back upon the track of experience with a new purpose and revisits the past as he turns away from it toward another future. Through the darkness, across the fresh snow, on this night of the anniversary of home life, there and on this final Christmas Eve after which all would soon vanish, he drew this band--binding together all the lives there grouped--putting about them the ring of oneness.