like manner, represent the same in sugar; the print-shops, the book-stalls, all tell the same story; so that, whether you will or no, you must needs think of our Lord's birth, if you spend a Christmas there; you cannot help it; it meets you at every turn. In a very foolish way, Protestants may think; but any how, they must admit that so it is. The delight of Christmas eve in Catholic Germany, the Christmas tree, which has lately been introduced into this country, has there a directly Christian name and meaning, which it has lost in its transplantation. Those who think it profane to associate sacred names with childish plays will, of course, think that such change is for the better; but such is not the mind of the Catholic Church. We are told by our Lord Himself that the temper of a little child is the condition of mind absolutely indispensable for entering His Church; and according to that saying, the Catholic Church believes that every thing innocent and child-like is peculiarly acceptable to Him, and therefore sees no profaneness in consecrating by His sacred name childish sports, especially at this happy season, when Himself became a child. Accordingly, the Christmas tree is called, in Germany, the Tree of the Child Jesus. It is the top of a young fir-tree, sometimes ten or twelve feet high, sometimes only as many inches (for rich and poor alike give their children this delight, according to their means), and generally fixed on a painted board covered with moss and evergreens, to represent a garden, in which stand figures of shepherds, sheep, and dogs, in commemoration of the angels' announcement of our Lord's birth to the shepherds.

As soon as it is dark, the doors of a room which had been kept locked all day are suddenly thrown open at the ringing of a bell, and all the children rush in with a shout of joy, as the tree rises before them in all its light and beauty, with innumerable tapers glittering like stars among its branches, rich with silver and golden fruits, and with flowers of every form and hue; and hung from the boughs by manycoloured ribbons, are presents of all sorts and descriptions for the children and the whole company; and these presents are called the gifts of the child Jesus. This Christmas tree is so well known in England, that we need say no more about

it, except only to remind children that it was first reared in honour of our infant Saviour, and that they will not enjoy its delights the less for just remembering Him for a moment as they look upon it.

This is a very brief and hurried sketch of a few among the many Catholic devotions and Catholic amusements which mark the Christmas festival. Let any Protestant, however, candidly consider even these few, and say whether he will not for the future hesitate to brand a Church which so evidently and so pre-eminently adores our blessed Lord, and so rejoices in His birth, with the fearful name of Antichrist.

THE STRANGER-CHILD'S HOLY CHRIST.
(FROM THE GERMAN.)

'Twas on the night the Lord was born,
When, through the gladsome town,
A Stranger-child, and all forlorn,
Went wandering up and down.

At every house he stopped to gaze,
Where, hung with stars of light,
The Christmas tree shot forth its rays
Unutterably bright.

Then wept the Child, "Alas for me !
To-night each other one

Will have his glittering Christmas tree;
But I-poor I-have none.

I too have played round such at home,
With brothers hand in hand;

But all deserted now I roam,

Here in this stranger-land.
Father nor mother have I now,
O holy Christ and dear!
Except Thou love me, only Thou,
I am forgotten here."

He rubbed his little hands, all blue

And stiffened with the cold;
And round him, cowering, closer drew
His garment's scanty fold.

When, lo, with wand of wavy light,
And voice how heavenly sweet!
Another Child, all robed in white,
Came gliding up the street.

He said: "The holy Christ am I,
Once too a child like thee:
If all forget and pass thee by,
Thou'rt not forgot by Me.

Myself for thee, dear child, will raise
A Tree so full of light,

That those in yonder halls that blaze
Will scarcely shine so bright."

He spoke; and straight, from earth to sky,

A Tree before them sprung,

And stars in clustering radiancy

Amid its branches hung.

How near, and yet how far it seem'd!
How bathed in floods of light!

Still stood the child, and thought he dreamed,

So rapturous was the sight.

But, hovering o'er him from above,

Angels sweet welcome smiled,

And gently stretched their arms in love
Towards the Stranger-child.

They lift, they raise him from the ground,
Up through the shining space;
And now the blessed one has found,

With Christ his resting-place.

Robson, Levey, and Franklyn, Great New Street, Fetter Lane.