Enthusiasm is contagious, and the Pope appears to have caught it instantly from one whose zeal was so unbounded. Giving the Hermit full powers, he sent him abroad to preach the Holy War to all the nations and potentates of Christendom. The Hermit preached, and countless thousands answered to his call. France, Germany, and Italy started at his voice, and prepared for the deliverance of Zion. One of the early historians of the Crusade, who was himself an eye-witness of the rapture of Europe, describes the personal appearance of the Hermit at this time. He says that there appeared to be something of divine in everything which he said or did. The people so highly reverenced him, that they plucked hairs from the mane of his mule, that they might keep them as relics. While preaching, he wore, in general, a woollen tunic, with a dark-coloured mantle which fell down to his heels. His arms and feet were bare, and he ate neither flesh nor bread, supporting himself chiefly upon fish and wine. "He set out," said the chronicler, "from whence I know not; but we saw him passing through towns and villages, preaching everywhere, and the people surrounding him in crowds, loading him with offerings, and celebrating his sanctity with such great praises, that I never remember to have seen such honours bestowed upon any one." Thus he went on, untired, inflexible, and full of devotion, communicating his own madness to his hearers, until Europe was stirred from its very depths. _Popular Delusions._ * * * * * FAITH'S GUIDING STAR. [Illustration: Letter W.] We find a glory in the flowers When snowdrops peep and hawthorn blooms; We see fresh light in spring-time hours, And bless the radiance that illumes. The song of promise cheers with hope, That sin or sorrow cannot mar; God's beauty fills the daisyed slope, And keeps undimm'd Faith's guiding star. We find a glory in the smile That lives in childhood's happy face, Ere fearful doubt or worldly guile Has swept away the angel trace. The ray of promise shineth there, To tell of better lands afar; God sends his image, pure and fair, To keep undimm'd Faith's guiding star. We find a glory in the zeal Of doating breast and toiling brain; Affection's martyrs still will kneel, And song, though famish'd, pour its strain. They lure us by a quenchless light, And point where joy is holier far; They shed God's spirit, warm and bright, And keep undimm'd Faith's guiding star. We muse beside the rolling waves; We ponder on the grassy hill; We linger by the new-piled graves, And find that star is shining still. God in his great design hath spread, Unnumber'd rays to lead afar; They beam the brightest o'er the dead, And keep undimm'd Faith's guiding star. ELIZA COOK. * * * * *