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Full text of "Easter"

©ur Hmerican iboli^s 



EASTER 



OUR AMERICAN HOLIDAYS 
Edited by Robert Haven Schauffler 



FLAG DAY 

CHRISTMAS 

ARBOR DAY 

MOTHERS' DAY 

THANKSGIVING 

MEMORIAL DAY 

INDEPENDENCE DAY 

LINCOLN'S BIRTHDAY 

WASHINGTON'S BIRTHDAY 



For brief description of each volume see 
advertisement facing last page of text. 



Out Bmetfcan Iboltoasa 



EASTER 



ITS HISTORY, CELEBRATION, 
SPIRIT, AND SIGNIFICANCE AS 
RELATED IN PROSE AND VERSE 

COMPILED BY 

SUSAN TRACY RICE 

EDITED BY 

ROBERT HAVEN SCHAUFFLER 



"Somehow Easter always carries with it 
more of heaven than any other of the great 
anniversaries of the Christian year." 

Margaret E. Sangster. 




NEW YORK 

MOFFAT, YARD & COMPANY 

1917 



Copyright, 1916, By 

MOFFATT, YARD AND COMPANY 

NEW YORK 

Reprinted December, 1917 



NOTE 

The Editor, Compiler and Publishers wish to ac- 
knowledge their indebtedness to 

Little, Brown & Company, Houghton Mifflin Com- 
pany, The Century Company, Brentano's, The Bible 
House, George Routledge and Sons, Ltd., Funk & 
Wagnalls Co., Harper & Brothers, The Independent, 
The Chautauquan, Charles Scribner's Sons, The Mac- 
millan Company, Frederick A. Stokes Company, and 
others who have very kindly granted permission to 
reprint selections from works bearing their copyright. 

The poems by R. W. Gilder, Celia Thaxter, Lucy 
Larcom and Edith M. Thomas are used by permission 
of, and by special arrangement with, Houghton Mifflin 
Company, authorized publishers of their works. 



INTRODUCTION 

Of all the festivals of the Christian year, Easter is 
the most important and most joyful. From of old it 
has been known as " the happiest of days," " the bright 
day/' " the Sunday of joy " and " the festival of festi- 
vals." The early fathers used to speak of it as " the 
feast of feasts/' " the queen of days," " the desirable 
festival of our salvation." And Pope Leo I called it 
" the day alone great." 

The names Easter and Ostern, the English and Ger- 
man names for the feast of the resurrection, were once 
thought to be derived from Ostara (Eostre), an an- 
cient teutonic goddess mentioned by the historian Bede 
in the seventh century. She was the personification of 
the Spring, of the rising sun, of all things new and 
fresh and full of hope. To her the month correspond- 
ing to our April, Eostur-rnonath, was supposed to be 
dedicated. 

This is all very romantic and beautiful ; but it is not 
true." Recent research has shown that Ostara, the god- 
dess of the vernal equinox, originated nowhere but in 
the brain of the venerable Bede; and that Eostur- 
monath was named for the old heathen feast of Eostur 
or Easter which was so-called because the Spring sun 
had its new birth in the east. 

Many of the chief Easter customs and observances 
ix 



x INTRODUCTION 

are derived, directly or indirectly, from this festival of 
spring-gladness in the heart of the ancient Teutonic 
forest. Such things as Easter-eggs, Easter-fires, 
Easter-games and Easter-laughter all seem to have a 
heathen origin. 

The French call Easter pdques; the Italians, pasqua; 
and the Spanish, pascua. These names, through the 
Chaldee and Latin, come from the Hebrew name of 
the Passover pesach ("be passed over") which com- 
memorates the act of the angel of destruction,, who 
"passed over the houses of the children of Israel in 
Egypt when he smote the Egyptians." The blood of 
a sacrificed paschal lamb was sprinkled on the transom 
and door-posts of the Hebrew houses as a sign of im- 
munity. And thus when, later, the feast of the resur- 
rection of the sacrificed Lamb of God came to be 
celebrated in apostolic times, it was natural to call it 
by the name of the earlier feast to which it was so 
poetically akin. It was, indeed, the old Passover with 
the new idea added to it of Christ as the real Paschal 
Lamb. And later still, when Christianity reached the 
Teutonic peoples, it was natural for them to think of 
their old heathen festival of the resurrection of the 
sun in connection with the new festival of the resur- 
rection of the Sun of Righteousness ; and to graft upon 
the latter many of the customs and beliefs of the more 
ancient celebration which among heathen peoples from 
time immemorial has taken the form of an outburst of 
jubilation over the re-awakening of nature after her 
long, cold, death-like sleep. 

There is nothing to be found in the New Testament 



INTRODUCTION xi 

about the festival of Easter; yet it is the oldest of 
Christian festivals, and its observance began in the 
apostolic age. But as early as the second century A. d. 
a serious dispute arose between the Christians of Jew- 
ish and those of Gentile descent, as to the proper date 
of Easter. It led to a bitter but uninteresting series of 
age-long controversies which were waged with twice 
the zeal and rancor of those mediaeval schoolmen who 
used to fight about how many angels could pirouette 
simultaneously on the point of a needle. 

The history of this quarrel would fill page after page 
of the dreariest reading. But it shall not be inflicted 
on my reader. Suffice it to tell the outcome. 

It has been decided that Easter-day shall always be 
the first Sunday after that full moon which happens 
next after March 21st; and if the full moon occurs on 
a Sunday, then Easter-day is the Sunday following. 
But note that the full moon above referred to is the 
fourteenth day of a lunar month, reckoned according 
to an old ecclesiastical compilation, and not in accord- 
ance with the science of modern astronomy. So to 
relieve all uncertainty, here is a list of Easter Sunday 
Dates for the next fifty years : 

1916 April 23 1923 April 1 

1917 April 8 1924 April 20 

1918 March 31 1925 April 12 

1919 April 20 1926 April 4 

1920 April 4 1927 April 17 

1921 March 27 1928 April 8 

1922 April 16 1929 March 31 



xu 



INTRODUCTION 



1930 

i93i 
1932 

1933 
1934 
1935 
1936 

1937 
1938 

1939 
1940 
1941 
1942 

1943 
1944 

1945 
1946 

1947 



April 20 
April 5 
March 27 
April 16 
April 1 
April 21 
April 12 
March 28 
April 17 
April 9 
March 24 
April 13 
April 5 
April 25 
April 9 
April 1 
April 21 
April 6 



1948 
1949 
1950 
1951 
1952 
1953 
1954 
1955 
1956 
^957 
1958 

1959 
i960 
1961 
1962 

1963 
1964 

1965 



March 28 
April 17 
April 9 
March 25 
April 13 
April 5 
April 18 
April 10 
April 1 
April 21 
April 6 
March 29 
April 17 
April 2 
April 22 
April 14 
March 29 
April 18 



In his " Curiosities of Popular Customs," Walsh 
gives a picturesque account of some old customs and 
superstitions connected with the celebration of Easter. 
" It was/' he says, " the invariable policy of the early 
church to give a Christian significance to such of the 
extant pagan ceremonies as could not be rooted out. 
In the case of Easter the conversion was peculiarly 
easy. Joy at the rising of the natural sun, and at the 
awakening of nature from the death of winter, became 
joy at the rising of the sun of righteousness, at the 
resurrection of Christ from the grave. Some of the 
pagan observances which took place about the first of 



INTRODUCTION xiii 

May were also shifted to correspond with the celebra- 
tion of Easter. Many new features were added. It 
was a time of exuberant joy. Gregory of Nyssa 
draws a vivid picture of the joyous crowds who, by 
their dress (a feature still preserved) and their devout 
attendance at church, sought to do honor to the festi- 
val. All labor ceased, all trades were suspended. It 
was a favorite time for baptism, the law courts were 
closed, alms were given to the poor, slaves were freed. 
Easter Sunday became known as Dominica Gaudii 
(" Sunday of Joy"). In the reaction from the aus- 
terities of Lent, people gave themselves up to enjoy- 
ment, popular sports, dances, and farcical entertain- 
ments. In some places the clergy, to increase the 
mirth, recited from the pulpit humorous stories and 
legends for the purpose of exciting the risus Paschalis, 
or " Easter smile." People exchanged the Easter kiss 
and the salutation " Christ is risen," to which the reply 
was made, " He is risen indeed," — a custom kept up 
to this day in some parts of the world. 

One of the oldest and most wide-spread of Easter 
superstitions is that which makes the sun participate 
in the general felicity by dancing in the heavens. The 
question whether the sun really did dance was solemnly 
discussed and combated by grave old scholars, who 
took the trouble to demonstrate, by irrefutable argu- 
ments and at great length, that while the sun might 
sometimes shine more brightly on Easter morning than 
on another, it was simply by accident, and that in any 
event there was no dancing and could be none. " In 
some parts of England they call it the lamb playing," 



xiy INTRODUCTION 

wrote one, " which they look for, as soon as the sun 
rises, in some clear spring or water, and is nothing but 
the pretty reflection it makes from, the water, which 
they may find at any time if the sun rise clear and they 
themselves early and unprejudiced with fancy." 

This idea of the sun dancing on Easter Day may 
easily be traced back to heathen customs, when the 
spectators themselves danced at a festival in honor of 
the sun, after the vernal equinox. 

Devonshire maidens still get up early on Easter 
morning to see not only the dancing sun, but also a 
lamb and a flag in the center of its disk. 

In Scotland the sun was even more active, for there 
it was expected to whirl round like a mill-wheel and 
give three leaps. One way of looking at the sun's un- 
usual feat was to watch for its reflection in a pond or 
a pail of water, when any movements on the surface 
would materially strengthen the illusion. In a similar 
way, the credulous would be deceived by the morning 
vapor through which the rising sun would appear to 
flicker. 

Other superstitions have clustered round this festi- 
val, some of which still linger on. It is considered by 
many unlucky to omit wearing new clothes on Easter 
Day, and in East Yorkshire young people go to the 
nearest market town to buy some new article of dress 
or personal ornament, as otherwise they believe that 
birds — notably rooks or " crakes " — will spoil their 
clothes. To see a lamb on first looking out of the win- 
dow on Easter morning is a good omen, especially if 
its head be turned in the direction of the house. It 



INTRODUCTION xv 

must be remembered, however, that to meet a lamb 
at any time is lucky, as, according to the popular no- 
tion, the devil can take any other form than that of a 
lamb or a dove. 

If the wind is in the east on Easter Day, it is re- 
garded in some places as a wise plan to draw water 
and wash in it, as by this means one will avoid the vari- 
ous ill effects from the east wind throughout the 
remaining months of the yean The same superstition 
exists on the Continent. Thus, in the neighborhood of 
Mecklenburg, on Easter morning the maidservants 
fetch Easter water, or on the evening preceding spread 
out linen clothes in the garden, and in the morning 
wash themselves with the dew rain or snow that may 
have fallen on them. This is said to be a preservative 
against illness for the whole year. In Sachsenburg the 
peasants ride their horses into the water to ward off 
sickness from them. The Easter water, however, has 
a virtue only when while drawing it the wind is due 
east. Much importance is attached to rain falling on 
Easter Day, for, according to an old proverb, — 

A good deal of rain on Easter Day- 
Gives a crop of good grass, but little good hay. 

Until recently an immemorial custom called " chip- 
ping the block" was observed at University College, 
Oxford. A block in the form of a long wooden pole, 
decorated with flowers and evergreens, was placed out- 
side the door of the hall, leaning against the wall of the 
buttery opposite. After dinner on Easter Day the 
college cook and his attendant, dressed in white paper 



xvi INTRODUCTION 

caps and white jackets, took their stand on either side 
of the block, each bearing a pewter dish, one supporting 
a blunt chopping-ax from the kitchen, the other in 
readiness for the fees expected on the occasion. As 
the members of the college came out of the hall, each 
took the ax and struck the block with it and then placed 
in the pewter dish the usual fee to the cook. Accord- 
ing to one tradition mentioned by Mr. Henderson, any 
one who could chop the block in two was entitled to 
lay claim to all the college estates. 

In Rome Easter Sunday is celebrated with elaborate 
ceremonies, though since the fall of the temporal power 
these have been shorn of much of their magnificence. 
The day is ushered in by the firing of cannon from the 
Castle of St. Angelo, and about seven o'clock carriages 
with ladies and gentlemen are beginning to pour 
towards St. Peter's. That magnificent basilica is richly 
decorated for the occasion, the altars are freshly orna- 
mented, and the lights around the tomb and figure of 
St. Peter are blazing after their temporary extinction 
on Good Friday. Formerly the Pope officiated this 
day at mass in St. Peter's. From a hall in an adjoining 
palace of the Vatican he was borne into the church. 
Seated in his Sedia Gestatoria, his vestments blazed 
with gold ; on his head he wore the tiara, a tall round 
gilded cap representing a triple crown, understood to 
signify spiritual power, temporal power, and the union 
of both. Beside him were borne the flabelli, or large 
fans, composed of ostrich feathers, in which were set 
the eye-like parts of peacocks' feathers to signify the 
eyes or vigilance of the Church. Over him was car- 



INTRODUCTION xvii 

ried a silk canopy richly fringed. Thus he was es- 
corted to his throne, which stands far back in the dis- 
tance behind the altar. Lining the avenue from it to 
the shrine of the apostles stood the Noble Guards in 
full uniform, a living hedge of athletic men. The 
tribunes built up in the transepts contained all those 
official persons whose duty it was to be present on this 
occasion, and all wore uniforms. The ladies were in 
black, and their long lace veils, which were de rigueur 
in their costume for the ceremonies, lent a softening 
tone to the bright splendor of the uniforms and colored 
robes of office. The crown of the whole great pageant, 
however, was the unrivaled Papal choir, which outdid 
itself in its magnificently calm rendering of the solemn 
church chant. At the elevation of the sacred host, the 
word of command was rung out in a clarion-like voice 
by one of the officers, and the military in the body of 
the church all presented arms as they suddenly dropped 
on one knee. The Noble Guards drew their swords 
and lifted them up in a bristling hedge of steel, while 
they were also on their knees; and from the lofty 
tribune under the dome issued the sound of the silver 
trumpets, the only instrumental music allowed during 
Papal functions. Again at the moment of the com- 
munion the same evolutions were gone through, save 
that the trumpets no longer sounded, and that in perfect 
silence a cardinal bore the consecrated host to the foot 
of the Papal throne, where the Pontiff knelt to re- 
ceive it. 

No sooner was the mass over than the Pope was 
with the same ceremony and to the sound of music 



xviii INTRODUCTION 

borne back through the crowded church to the bal- 
cony over the central doorway. There, rising from his 
chair of state and turning first to the east and then to 
the west, he pronounced a benediction, with indul- 
gences and absolution. The crowd was most dense 
immediately under the balcony at which the Pope ap- 
peared, for there papers were thrown down containing 
a copy of the prayers that had been uttered, and 
ordinarily there was a scramble to catch them. , " At 
night," says a spectator of the ancient glories, " civic 
festivities follow the religious pageant of the morn- 
ing. St. Peter's is illuminated by means of hundreds 
of thousands of tiny oil lamps, whose white gleam has 
given the name of ' silver illumination ' to this part 
of the show. These lamps are placed at short intervals 
along every prominent line and curve of the colossal 
building and produce an effect as of a fairy architect's 
plan. After about half an hour, a gun suddenly booms 
from the Castle of St. Angelo, and the 'silver' is 
changed almost instantaneously to a ' golden ' illumina- 
tion. This magical effect is produced by the sudden 
kindling of large hanging pans full of resinous matter, 
also disposed along the architectural lines and curves 
of the basilica, and completely outshining in their 
strong, fiery glare the more delicate radiance of the 
little lamps. One man has no more than two or three 
of these pans to attend to, so that it is easy for him to 
fire them all almost simultaneously. The numberless 
dark figures moving aloft with cat-like agility among 
the massive shadows of the basilica are plainly visible 
to those stationed in the balconies of the piazza, but a 



INTRODUCTION xix 

far more satisfactory way of seeing the illumination 
is to go to the Monte Pincio, at the opposite side of the 
town ; the great dome of fire stands out in weird mag- 
nificence against the sky, and the sudden change, of 
which no human agency can be seen at that distance, 
has in consequence a proportionately enhanced effect 
upon the imagination." 

Illuminations like that just described developed from 
the peasant custom of lighting Easter Fires on the 
tops of mountains. They are genuine relics of the 
pagan days when these fires blazed to celebrate the 
triumph of Spring over Winter. The flame had to be 
kindled from new fire created by the friction of wood 
(nodfyr). And sometimes a figure representing Win- 
ter was cast into the flames. After trying in vain to 
stop the custom, the Church gave in and incorporated 
the idea into its Easter ceremonies. This fire, drawn 
from the apparently fireless, and blazing on the heathen 
mountain top, thus came to symbolize the fiery pillar 
gleaming as a guide in the desert. And the new flame 
struck out of flint on Holy Saturday stood for the re- 
appearance of the Light of the World out of His tomb 
of stone. 

The egg is the symbol of the germinating fertility 
of Spring and the Easter ^gg is undoubtedly a relic of 
heathen days. As it is identified with the Easter ob- 
servance best known to Americans, the following ac- 
count of it has been condensed from the quaint pages 
of Brand : * 

" In the north of England it is still the custom to 

* Observations on the Popular Antiquities of Great Britain. 



xx INTRODUCTION 

send reciprocal presents of eggs at Easter to the chil- 
dren of families betwixt whom any intimacy exists. 

" The learned Count de Gebelin, in his ' Religious 
History of the Calendar/ informs us that this custom 
of giving eggs at Easter is to be traced up to the the- 
ology and philosophy of the Egyptians, Persians, Gauls, 
Greeks, Romans, etc., among all of whom an egg was 
an emblem of the universe, the work of the supreme 
Divinity. Coles, in his Latin Dictionary, renders the 
Pasch, or Easter Egg, by Ovum Paschale, croceum, seu 
luteum. It is plain, from hence, that he was acquainted 
with the custom of dyeing or staining eggs at this 
season. 

"Hutchinson, in his 'History of Northumberland,' 
speaking of Pasche Eggs, says, ' Eggs were held by 
the Egyptians as a sacred emblem of the renovation 
of mankind after the Deluge. The Jews adopted it to 
suit the circumstances of their history, as a type of 
their departure from the land of Egypt, and it was used 
in the feast of the Passover as part of the furniture 
of the table, with the Paschal Lamb. The Christians 
have certainly used it on this day, as retaining the ele- 
ments of future life, for an emblem of the Resurrec- 
tion. It seems as if the egg was thus decorated for a 
religious trophy, after the days of mortification and 
abstinence were over, and festivity had taken place ; and 
as an emblem of the resurrection of life, and certified 
to us by the Resurrection from the regions of death 
and the grave.' The ancient Egyptians, if the resur- 
rection of the body had been a tenet of their faith, 
would perhaps have thought an egg no improper hiero- 



INTRODUCTION xxi 

glyphical representation of it. The exclusion of a liv- 
ing creature by incubation after the vital principle has 
laid a long while dormant, or seemingly extinct, is a 
process so truly marvelous, that, if it could be dis- 
believed, would be thought by some a thing as incredible 
to the full, as that the Author of Life should be able 
to reanimate the dead. 

" Le Brun, in his ' Voyages,' tells us that the Per- 
sians, on the 20th of March, 1704, kept the Festival of 
the Solar New Year, w T hich he says lasted several days, 
when they mutually presented each other, among other 
things, with colored eggs. 

" Easter, says Gebelin, and the New Year, have 
been marked by similar distinctions. Among the Per- 
sians, the New Year is looked upon as the renewal of 
all things, and is noted for the triumph of the Sun of 
Nature, as Easter is with the Christians for that of the 
Sun of Justice, the Saviour of the World, over death, 
by His Resurrection. The Feast of the New Year, 
he adds, was celebrated at the Vernal Equinox, that is, 
at a time when the Christians, removing their New 
Year to the Winter Solstice, kept only the Festival of 
Easter. Hence, with the latter, the Feast of Eggs has 
been attached to Easter, so that eggs are no longer made 
presents of at the New Year. 

" Father Camelli, in his ' History of Customs/ tells 
us, that, during Easter and the following days, hard 
eggs, painted of different colors, but principally red, 
are the ordinary food of the season. In Italy, Spain, 
and in Provence, says he, where almost every ancient 
superstition is retained, there are in the public places 



xxii INTRODUCTION 

certain sports with eggs. This custom he derives from 
the Jews or the Pagans, for he observes it common to 
both. 

" The learned Hyde, in his ' Oriental Sports/ tells 
us of one with eggs among the Christians of Mesopo- 
tamia on Easter Day, and forty days afterwards, during 
which time their children buy themselves as many eggs 
as they can, and stain them with a red color in memory 
of the blood of Christ, shed at the time of the Cruci- 
fixion. Some tinge them green and yellow. Stained 
eggs are sold all the while in the market. The sport 
consists in striking their eggs one against another, and 
the egg that first breaks is won by the owner of the egg 
that struck it. Immediately another tgg is pitted 
against the winning egg t and so they go on, till the 
last remaining egg wins all the others, which respective 
owners shall before have won. This sport, he ob- 
serves, is not retained in the midland parts of England, 
but seems to be alluded to in the old proverb, ' An egg 
at Easter/ because the liberty to eat eggs begins again 
at that Festival, and thence must have arisen this festive 
egg-game; for neither the Papists, nor those of the 
Eastern Church, eat eggs during Lent, but at Easter 
begin again to eat them. And hence the egg-feast 
formerly at Oxford, when the scholars took leave of 
that kind of food on the Saturday after Ash Wednes- 
day, on what is called ' Cleansing Week/ 

" In the North of England, continues Hyde, in Cum- 
berland and Westmoreland, boys beg, on Easter Eve, 
eggs to play with, and beggars ask for them to eat. 



INTRODUCTION xxiii 

These eggs are hardened by boiling, and tinged with the 
juice of herbs, broom-flowers, etc. The eggs being 
prepared, the boys go out and play with them in the 
fields, rolling them up and down, like bowls upon the 
ground, or throwing them up, like balls, into the air. 
Eggs, stained with various colors in boiling, and some- 
times covered with leaf-gold, are at Easter presented 
to children, at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, and other places 
in the North, where these young gentry ask for their 
Paste Eggs at this season. Paste is plainly a corrup- 
tion of Pasque, Easter. 

" In a curious Roll of the Expenses of the House- 
hold of Edward I, communicated to the Society of 
Antiquaries, 1805, is the following item in the Ac- 
counts of Easter Sunday : ' Four hundred and a half 
of eggs, eighteen pence'; highly interesting to the 
investigator of our ancient manners, not so much on 
account of the smallness of the sum which purchased 
them, as for the purpose for which so great a quantity 
was procured on this day in particular, i. e., in order 
to have them stained in boiling, or covered with leaf- 
gold, and to be afterwards distributed to the Royal 
Household. 

" That the Church of Rome has considered eggs as 
emblematical of the Resurrection, may be gathered 
from the subsequent prayer, which the reader will find 
in an extract from the Ritual of Pope Paul the Fifth, 
for the use of England, Ireland, and Scotland. It 
contains various other forms of benediction : * Bless, 
O Lord ! we beseech Thee, this Thy creature of eggs, 



xxiv INTRODUCTION 

that it may become a wholesome sustenance to Thy 
faithful servants, eating it in thankfulness to Thee, 
on account of the Resurrection of our Lord.' 

u The following from Emilianne is much to our pur- 
pose : ' On Easter Eve and Easter Day all the heads 
of families send great chargers, full of hard eggs, to 
the church to get them blessed, which the priests per- 
form by saying several appointed prayers and making 
great signs of the cross over them, and sprinkling them 
with holy water. The priest, having finished the cere- 
mony, demands how many dozen eggs there be in 
every bason. These blest eggs have the virtue of 
sanctifying the entrails of the body, and are to be the 
first fat or fleshy nourishment they take after the 
abstinence of Lent. The Italians do not only abstain 
from flesh during Lent, but also from eggs, cheese, but- 
ter, and all white meats. As soon as the eggs are 
blessed, every one carries his portion home, and causeth 
a large table to be set in the best room in the house, 
which they cover with their best linen, all bestrewed 
with flowers, and place round about it a dozen dishes 
of meat, and the great charger of eggs in the midst. 
'Tis a very pleasant sight to see these tables set forth in 
the houses of great persons, when they expose on side 
tables (round about the chamber) all the plate they 
have in the house, and whatever else they have that is 
rich and curious, in honor of their Easter eggs, which 
of themselves yield a very fair show, for the shells of 
them are painted with divers colors, and gilt. Some- 
times there are no less than twenty dozen in the same 
charger, neatly laid together in the form of a pyramid. 



INTRODUCTION xxv 

The table continues, in the same posture, covered, all 
the Easter week, and all those who come to visit them 
in that time are invited to eat an Eastern egg with them, 
which they must not refuse/ 

" Dr. Chandler, in his ' Travels in Asia Minor/ gives 
the following account of the manner of celebrating 
Easter among the modern Greeks : ' The Greeks now 
celebrated Easter. A small bier, prettily decked with 
orange and citron buds, jasmine, flowers and boughs, 
was placed in the church, with a Christ crucified, rudely 
painted on board, for the body. We saw it in the 
evening, and, before day-break, were suddenly awak- 
ened by the blaze and crackling of a large bonfire, with 
singing and shouting in honor of the Resurrection. 
They made us presents of colored eggs and cakes of 
Easter bread/ 

"Easter Day, says the Abbe d'Auteoroche, in his 
' Journey to Siberia/ is set apart for visiting in Russia. 
A Russian came into my room, offered me his hand, 
and gave me, at the same time, an egg. Another fol- 
lowed, who also embraced, and gave me an egg. I gave 
him in return the egg which I had just before received. 
The men go to each other's houses in the morning and 
introduce themselves by saying, ' Jesus Christ is risen/ 
The answer is — * Yes, He is risen/ The people then 
embrace, give each other eggs, and drink together. 
This extract from Hakluyt's ' Voyages ' is of an older 
date, and shows how little the custom has varied: 
' They (the Russians) have an order at Easter, which 
they alwaies observe, and that is this: every yeere, 
against Easter, to die or colour red, with Brazzle 



xxvi INTRODUCTION 

(Brazilwood) a great number of egges, of which every 
man and woman giveth one unto the priest of the parish 
upon Easter Day, in the morning. And moreover, the 
common people use to carrie in their hands one of these 
red egges, not only upon Easter Day, but also three or 
foure dayes after, and gentlemen and gentlewomen 
have egges gilded, which they carrie in like manner. 
They use it, as they say, for a great love, and in token 
of the Resurrection, whereof they rejoice. For when 
two friends meete during the Easter Holydayes they 
come and take one another by the hand; and one of 
them saith, " The Lord, our Christ, is risen " ; the other 
answereth, " It is so of a trueth " ; and then they kiss 
and exchange their egges : both men and women, con- 
tinuing foure dayes together.' " 

These scattered facts, dealing with the more mate- 
rial side of the festival, have been printed in the hope 
of preparing the reader more fully to appreciate the 
spirit of Easter as expressed in the pages to come. 
Never before have men had such need of the Easter 
message. Yesterday the world underwent its Gol- 
gotha. To-day it hangs tortured on the cross. Are 
we to see the powers of darkness prevail, or, in the 
glow of some ecstatic dawn, see the stone rolled away 
from the planet's tomb? 

R. H. S. 

February 21, 1916* 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introduction ix 



I 

CELEBRATION 

The First Easter St Luke 3 

Easter Even Christina G. Rossetti 7 

Easter Day in Rome Oscar Wilde 8 

The Story of Easter Eggs . . Christoph Von Schmid 8 

Easter Lilies Susan Coolidge 12 

Mary . Margaret E. Sangster 13 

Easter Singers in the Vorarlburg 

From "Chamber's Book of Days* 9 15 

Mary's Easter . Marie Mason 17 

Mediaeval Easter Plays . . . Henry Barret Hinckley 18 

The Day of Victory .... Rachel Capen SchauiHer 21 

The Stone of the Sepulcher .... Susan Coolidge 22 

At Easter Time Laura B. Richards 23 

Easter Dawn Frances Ridley Havergal 24 

Easter Organ Music Harvey B. Gaul 25 

Song of Easter Celia Thaxter 28 

Nature's Easter Music Lucy Larcom 29 

How Moravians Observe Easter . Charles H. Rominger 32 

Awakening Rose Terry Cook 36 

On Easter Morn Edith M. Thomas 37 

Russian Easters . Abridged from The Saturday Review 38 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

An Easter Carol Christina G. Rossetti 41 

Easter Even Margaret French Patton 42 

The Barren Easter Clinton S collar d 43 

A Madrigal Clinton S collar d 45 

The Bells of Kremlin . . . Augustus /. G. C. Hare 46 

Of The Lord's Day and Easter . . . William Cave 48 

Compensation . . . . By an unknown English Poet 53 

Easter Week . Charles Kingsley 54 

The Apparition of Christ to His Mother Mrs. Jameson 54 

Easter Genevieve M. J. Irons 57 

Easter Day Josephine Rice Creelman 59 

A Glimpse of Easter in the Azores . Henry Sandham 60 

Egg Rolling ....*. Anonymous 61 

Egg Rolling in Washington .... Anonymous 62 



II 
SPIRIT AND SIGNIFICANCE 

Religion in Russia To-day . . . James Y. Simpson 67 
Easter Morning ....... Edmund Spenser 73 

The Boy and the Angel .... Robert Browning 73 

While It Was Yet Dark . . Charles E. Hesselgrave 77 

An Easter Song Susan Coolidge 80 

Easter Wings George Herbert 81 

An Easter Greeting to Every Child Who Loves " Alice " 

Lewis Carroll 82 
The Easter Message .... Charles E. Hesselgrave 85 
The Crescent and the Cross . Thomas Bailey Aldrich 87 
Day Dawn — A Quiet Talk on Easter . S, D. Gordon 88 

Woman's Easter Lucy Larcom 96 

Easter Morning Francis L. Mace 98 

Seek Those Things Which Are Above William Newell 101 

The Easter Joy Margaret E. Sangster 103 

Easter George Herbert 107 

The Resurrection, or Easter-Day . George Herbert 108 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Easter Sacraments .... Henry Park SchauMer no 
An Easter-Tide Deliverance . . 'Maria H. BulUnch in 
Sabbath Morn . From the Danish of Nicolai Grundtvig 112 

Easter Day John Keble 113 

Earth's Easter ♦ . , . , Robert Haven SchauMer 116 



III 
HYMNS AND CAROLS 

Easter Day Charles Wesley ng 

Welcome, Happy Morning . . Venatius Fortunatus 119 
He is Risen . . . . . Cecile Frances Alexander 121 
The Strife is O'er 

Translated from the Latin by Francis Potts 122 

Resurgam Translated by /. M. Neale 123 

Praise to the Lamb . Translated by Robert Campbell 124 

Christ is Arisen Arthur Cleveland Coxe 126 

Easter Carol George Newell Lovejoy 127 

Easter , . Martin Luther, from the Latin of John Huss 127 



IV 

IMMORTALITY 

Afraid? Of Whom Am I Afraid? . Emily Dickinson 131 

The New Birth Jones Very 131 

Lines Written the Night Before His Execution 

Sir Walter Raleigh 132 
The Valley of Life .... Richard Watson Gilder 133 

Sound Elizabeth Barrett Browning 135 

One Marion Monks Chase 136 

The Symbolism of Resurrection . . . Anonymous 136 

Resurrection Sarah H. Bradford 142 

Virtue George Herbert 143 

In Change Unchanging . . . Henry Ward Beecher 144 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

They Are All Gone Henry Vaughan 145 

The Retreate Henry Vaughan 147 

A Letter Frederika Bremer 148 

Life Through Death . . . Richard Chenevix Trench 150 
Immortality . Abridged from the Encyclopedia Britt. 152 
The Lily of the Resurrection .... Lucy Larconi 159 

The Bible on Immortality 160 

Resurrection Alfred Noyes 163 

Threnody Ralph Waldo Emerson 16$ 

Quotations 171 

Winter Sleep Edith M. Thomas 173 

The Little Plant Kate L. Brown 174 

" In a Night of Midsummer " . Richard Watson Gilder 174 

The Waking Year Emily Dickinson 176 

From In Memoriam Alfred Tennyson 176 

The Future Matthew Arnold 183 

Death Bishop William Croswell Doane 187 

Joy, Shipmate, Joy! Walt Whitman 188 

Continuities Walt Whitman 188 

The Evening Watch Henry Vaughan 189 

Three Great Thinkers on Immortality 190 

" Death Is not the End " Anonymous 191 

Reappearing Horatius Bonar ig2 

The Chambered Nautilus . Oliver Wendell Holmes 194 
The Discoverer .... Edmund Clarence Stedman 196 
The Belief of the Egyptians . . Amelia B. Edwards 198 

After Death in Arabia Edwin Arnold 199 

Beyond the Grave Ralph Waldo Emerson 201 

Transplanted Helen Hunt Jackson 202 

The Hope of the Resurrection . . Frances Browne 204 
The Resurrection . . Friedrich Gottlieb Klop stock 206 

Terminus Ralph Waldo Emerson 207 

The Proof Lucy Larcom 209 

At Last Paul Hamilton Hayne 210 

The Lights of Home Alfred Noyes 210 

Crossing the Bar Alfred Tennyson 211 



CONTENTS 

V 
FICTION AND DRAMA 

PAGE 

An Easter Joke .... Katharine McDowell Rice 215 

The Flax Hans Christian Andersen 219 

The Lark Frederic A. Krummacher 226 

Old Age Frederic A. Krummacher 22S 

Right About Face at the Old First . Haynes Lord 229 

A Lesson of Faith Margaret Gatty 236 

The Snowdrop . . . Adapted by Carolyn T. Bailey 243 
Mother Hubbard's Easter Lily . Madge A. Bigham 245 

Easter By the Arno Elizabeth K. Hall 247 

Anne-Marie Frances S. Dabney 254 



I 

CELEBRATION 



EASTER 

THE FIRST EASTER 

ST. LUKE 

And the Sabbath drew on. And the women also, 
which came with him from Galilee, followed after, and 
beheld the sepulcher, and how his body was laid. And 
they returned, and prepared spices and ointments; 
and rested the sabbath-day, according to the com- 
mandment. Now upon the first day of the week, 
very early in the morning, they came unto the sepul- 
cher, bringing the spices which they had prepared, 
and certain others with them. And they found the 
stone rolled away from the sepulcher, and they en- 
tered in, and found not the body of the Lord Jesus. 
And it came to pass, as they were much perplexed 
thereabout, behold, two men stood by them in shin- 
ing garments, and as they were afraid, and bowed 
down their faces to the earth, they said unto them, 
Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not 
here, but is risen. Remember how he spake unto 
you when he was yet in Galilee, saying, The Son of 
man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, 
and be crucified, and the third day rise again. And 
they remembered his words, and returned from the 

3 



4 EASTER 

sepulcher, and told all these things unto the eleven, 
and to all the rest. 

It was Mary Magdalene, and Joanna, and Mary the 
mother of James, and other women that were with 
them, which told these things unto the apostles. And 
their words seemed to them as idle tales, and they be- 
lieved them not. Then arose Peter, and ran unto 
the sepulcher, and stooping down, he beheld the linen 
clothes laid by themselves, and departed, wondering 
in himself at that which was come to pass. 

And behold, two of them went that same day to a 
village called Emmaus, which was from Jerusalem 
about three score furlongs, and they talked together 
of all these things which had happened. And it came 
to pass, that, while they communed together, and 
reasoned Jesus himself drew near, and went with 
them, but their eyes were holden, that they should not 
know him. 

And he said unto them, What manner of communi- 
cations are these that ye have one to another, as ye 
walk, and are sad? And one of them, whose name 
was Cleopas, answering, said unto him, Art thou only 
a stranger in Jerusalem, and hast not known the 
things which are come to pass there in these days? 
And he said unto them, What things? And they said 
unto him, Concerning Jesus of Nazareth, which was 
a prophet mighty in deed and word before God, and 
all the people, and how the chief priests and our rulers 
delivered him to death and have crucified him. But 
we trusted that it had been he which should have re- 
deemed Israel: and besides all this, to-day is the 



THE FIRST EASTER 5 

third day sincfc these things were done. Yea, and 
certain women of our company made us astonished, 
which were early at the sepulcher, and when they 
found not his body, they came saying, that they had 
also seen a vision of angels, which said that he was 
alive. And certain of them which were with us, went 
to the sepulcher, and found it even so as the women 
had said : but him they saw not. 

Then he said unto them, O fools, and slow of heart 
to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Ought 
not Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter 
into his glory? 

And beginning at Moses and all the prophets, he 
expounded unto them in all the scriptures the things 
concerning himself. 

And they drew nigh unto the village whither they 
went: and he made as though he would have gone 
further, but they constrained him, saying, Abide with 
us : for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent. 
And he went in to tarry with them. 

And it came to pass, as he sat at meat with them, he 
took bread and blessed it, and brake, and gave to 
them, and their eyes were opened, and they knew him : 
and he vanished out of their sight. 

And they said one to another, Did not our heart 
burn within us while he talked with us by the way, 
and while he opened to us the scriptures ? 

And they rose up the same hour, and returned to 
Jerusalem, and found the eleven gathered together, 
and them that were with them, saying, The Lord is 
risen indeed, and hath appeared to Simon. And they 



6 EASTER 

told what things were done on the way, and how he 
was known of them in the breaking of bread. 

And as they thus spake, Jesus himself stood in the 
midst of them, and said unto them, Peace be unto 
you. But they were terrified and affrighted, and 
supposed that they had seen a spirit. And he said 
unto them, Why are ye troubled? and why do thoughts 
arise in your hearts ? Behold my hands and my feet, 
that it is I myself: handle me and see; for a spirit 
hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have. 

And when he had thus spoken he showed them his 
hands and his feet, and while they believed not for 
joy, and wondered, he said unto them, Have ye here 
any meat? And they gave him a piece of broiled 
fish, and of a honey-comb. And he took it, and did 
eat before them. 

And he said unto them, These are the words which 
I spake unto you, while I was yet with you, that all 
things must be fulfilled which were written in the law 
of Moses, and in the prophets, and in the psalms con- 
cerning me. 

Then opened he their understanding, that they 
might understand the scriptures, and said unto them, 
Thus it is written, and thus it behooved Christ to 
suffer, and to rise from the dead the third day: and 
that repentance and remission of sins should be 
preached in his name among all nations, beginning at 
Jerusalem. And ye are witnesses of these things. 

And behold, I send the promise of my Father upon 
you: but tarry ye in the city of Jerusalem, until ye 
be endued with power from on high. 



EASTER EVEN 7 

And he led them out as far as to Bethany : and he 
lifted up his hands and blessed them. And it came 
to pass, while he blessed them, he was parted from 
them, and carried up into heaven. And they wor- 
shiped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy : 
and were continually in the temple, praising and bless- 
ing God. 

EASTER EVEN * 

BY CHRISTINA G. R0SSETTI 

The tempest over and gone, the calm begun, 

Lo, "It is finished," and the Strong Man sleeps: 

All stars keep vigil watching for the sun, 
The moon her vigil keeps. 

A garden full of silence and of dew, 
Beside a virgin cave and entrance stone: 

Surely a garden full of angels too, 
Wondering, on watch, alone. 

They who cry, " Holy, Holy, Holy/' still, 

Veiling their faces round God's throne above, 

May well keep vigil on this heavenly hill 
And cry their cry of love. 

Adoring God in His new mystery 

Of love more deep than hell, more strong than 
death ; 
Until the day break and the shadows flee, 

The Shaking and the Breath. 

* By permission of Little, Brown & Company. 



8 EASTER 

EASTER DAY IN ROME* 

BY OSCAR WILDE 

The silver trumpets rang across the dome, 
The people knelt upon the ground with awe, 
And borne upon the necks of men I saw, 
Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome. 

Priest-like he wore a robe more white than foam, 
And king-like swathed himself in royal red; 
Three crowns of gold rose high above His head, 
In splendor and in light the Pope passed home. 

My heart stole back across wide wastes of years, 

To One who wandered by a lonely sea, 

And sought in vain for any place of rest. 

Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest, 

I, only I, must wander wearily, 

And bruise my feet, and drink wine salt with tears. 

* By permission of Brentano's. 



THE STORY OF EASTER EGGS * 

BY CHRISTOPH VON SCHMID 

Many hundred years ago, a good and noble lady, 
Duchess Rosilinda von Lindenburg, at a time when a 
cruel war was devastating the land, was obliged to fly 

*By permission of Century Co. 



JHE STORY OF EASTER EGGS 9 

from Her beautiful home accompanied only by her 
two little children and one old manservant. 

They found refuge in a small mining village in the 
mountains, where the simple but contented and happy 
inhabitants did what they could for their comfort, and 
placed the best of all they had at the disposal of the 
wanderers. Nevertheless, their fare was miserable: 
no meat was ever to be found, seldom fish, and not 
even an egg; this last for the very good reason that 
there was not a single hen in the village ! These use- 
ful domestic fowls, now so common everywhere, were 
originally brought from the East, and had not yet 
found their way to this secluded place. The people 
had not even heard of such "strange birds." This 
troubled the kind duchess, who well knew the great 
help they are in housekeeping, and she determined 
that the women who had been so kind to her should 
no longer be without them. 

Accordingly, the next time she sent forth her faith- 
ful old servant to try and gather news of his master 
and of the progress of the war, she commissioned him 
to bring back with him a coop full of fowls. This he 
did, to the great surprise of the simple natives, and 
the village children were greatly excited a few weeks 
later at the appearance of a brood of young chickens. 
They were so pretty and bright, were covered with 
such a soft down, were so open-eyed, and could run 
about after their mother to pick up food the very 
first day, and were altogether such a contrast to the 
blind, bald, unfledged, helpless, ugly little birds they 
sometimes saw in nests in the hedges, that they could 



io EASTER 

not find words enough to express their admiration. 

The good lady now saved up eggs for some time, 
then invited all the housewives of the village to a 
feast, when she set before them eggs cooked in a 
variety of ways. She then taught them how to pre- 
pare them for themselves, and, distributing a num- 
ber of fowls among them, sent the dames home grate- 
ful and happy. 

When Easter approached, she was anxious to ar- 
range some pleasure for the village children, but had 
nothing to give them, " not even an apple or a nut," 
only some eggs; but that, she concluded, was, after 
all, an appropriate offering, " as an egg is the first 
gift of the reviving spring." And then it occurred 
to her to boil them with mosses and roots that would 
give them a variety of brilliant colors, " as the earth/' 
said she, "has just laid aside her white mantle, and 
decorated herself with many colors ; for the dear God 
makes the fruit and berries not only good to eat, but 
also pleasant to look upon," and the children's pleas- 
ure would be all the greater. 

Accordingly, on Easter Sunday, after the church 
service, all the little ones of about the age of her 
own met together in a garden; and, when their kind 
hostess had talked to them awhile, she led them into 
a small neighboring wood. There she told them to 
make nests of moss, and advised each to mark well 
his or her own. All then returned to the garden, 
where a feast of milk-soup with eggs and egg-cakes 
had been prepared. Afterward they went back to the 
wood, and found to their great joy in each nest five 



THE STORY OF EASTER EGGS n 

beautiful, colored eggs, and on these a short rhyme 
was written. 

The surprise and delight of the little ones when they 
discovered a nest of the gayly colored treasures, was 
very great, and one of them exclaimed : " How won- 
derful the hens must be that can lay such pretty eggs ! 
How I should like to see them ! " 

" Oh ! no hens could lay such beautiful eggs," an- 
swered a little girl, " I think it must have been the 
little hare that sprang out of the juniper bush when I 
wanted to build my nest there." 

Then all the children laughed together, and said, 
"The hares lay colored eggs! Yes, yes! the dear 
little hares lay the beautiful eggs!" And they kept 
repeating it till they began really to believe it. 

Not long afterward the war ended, and the Duke 
Arno von Lindenburg took his wife and children back 
to their own palace; but before leaving the Duchess 
set apart a sum of money to be expended in giving 
the village children every Easter a feast of eggs. She 
instituted the custom also in her own duchy, and by 
degrees it spread over the whole country, the eggs be- 
ing considered a symbol of redemption or deliverance 
from sin. The custom has found its way even to 
America, but nowhere out of the Vaterland are the 
eggs laid by the timid hare. 

To this day children living in the country go to the 
woods just before Easter, and return with their arms 
full of twigs and moss, out of which they build nests 
and houses, each child carefully marking his own with 
his name. They are then hidden behind stones and 



12 EASTER 

bushes in the garden, or, if the weather be cold, in 
corners, or under furniture in the house. And on 
Easter morning what an excitement there is to see 
what the good little hare has brought ! Not only real 
eggs boiled and colored but sugar ones too, and often 
wooden ones that open like boxes, disclosing perhaps, 
a pair of new gloves or a bright ribbon. 



EASTER LILIES 

BY SUSAN COOLIDGE 

Darlings of June and brides of summer sun, 

Chill pipes the stormy wind, and the skies are drear ; 

Dull and despoiled the gardens every one : 
What do you here ? 

We looked to see your gracious blooms arise 
'Mid soft and wooing airs in gardens green, 

Where venturesome brown bees and butterflies 
Should hail you queen. 

[There is no bee nor glancing butterfly ; 

They fled on rapid wings before the snow ; 
{Your sister lilies laid them down to die, 

Long, long ago. 

And here, amid the slowly dropping rain, 

We keep our Easter feast, with hearts whose care 

Mars the high cadence of each lofty strain, 
Each thankful prayer. 



MARY 13 

But not a shadow dims your joyance sweet, 
No baffled hope or memory darkly clad ; 

You lay your whiteness at the Lord's dear feet, 
And all are glad. 

O coward soul ! Arouse thee and draw near, 

Led by these fragrant acolytes to-day ! 
Let their sweet confidence rebuke thy fear, 

Thy cold delay. 

Come with thy darkness to the healing light, 
Come with thy bitter, which shall be made sweet, 

And lay thy soil beside the lilies white, 
At His dear feet ! 



MARY* 

BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER 

She walked among the lilies 

Upstanding straight and tall, 
Their silver tapers bright against 

The dusky wall; 
Gray olives dropped upon her 

Their crystal globes of dew, 
The while the doors of heaven grew wide 

To let the Easter through. 

AH heaven was rose and golden, 
The clouds were reft apart, 

*By permission of George M. Sangster. 



[14 EASTER 

Earth's holiest dawn in dazzling white 
Came forth from heaven's own heart: 

And never, since on Eden 
Creation's glory lay, 

Had ever garden of the Lord 
Beheld so fair a day. 

Her eyes were blurred with weeping, 

Her trailing steps were slow; 
The cross she bore within her 

Transfixed her soul with woe. 
One only goal before her 

Loomed through her spirit's gloom, 
As in the early morning 

She sought the guarded tomb. 

But down the lilied pathway 

A kingly presence came, 
A seamless garment clothed Him, 

His face was clear as flame, 
And in His hands were nailprints, 

And on His brow were scars, 
But in His eyes a light of love 

Beyond the light of stars. 

For tears she could not see Him, 

As o'er the path He came, 
Till, like remembered music, 

He called her by her name ; 
Jhen swift her soul to answer, 

k The Lord of life she knew, 



EASTER SINGERS IN VORARLBURG 15 

Her breast unbarred its prison gates 
To let the Easter through. 

Such light of revelation 

As bathed her being then, 
It comes anew wherever Christ 

Is known indeed of men; 
Such glory on the pathway, 

It falls again on all 
Who hear the King in blessing, 

And hasten at His call. 

Rise, King of grace and glory, 

This hallowed Easter-tide, 
Nor from Thy ransomed people 

Let even death divide; 
For yet again doth heaven 

Throw all its gates apart, 
And send the sacred Easter 

Straight from its glowing heart. 



EASTER SINGERS IN THE VORARLBURG 

FROM CHAMBER'S BOOK OF DAYS 

About a league from Lake Constance the mountains 
assume a wild and savage character; a narrow defile 
leads to a high hill which must be crossed to reach 
the valley of Schwartzenberg. I gained the summit of 
the peak at sunset; the rosy vapor which surrounded 
it hid the line of the horizon, and gave to the lake the 



16 EASTER 

appearance of a sea; the Rhine flowed through the 
bottom of the valley and emptied itself into the lake, 
to recommence its course twelve leagues farther on. 
On one side were the Swiss mountains ; and opposite 
was Landau, built on an island; on the other side the 
dark forests of Wurtemberg, and over the side of the 
hill the chain of the Vorarlburg mountains. The last 
rays of the setting sun gilded the crests of the glaciers, 
whilst the valleys were already bathed in the soft 
moonlight. From this high point the sounds of the 
bells ringing in the numerous villages scattered over 
the mountains were distinctly heard, the flocks were 
being brought home to be housed for the night, and 
everywhere were sounds of rejoicing. 

"It is the evening of Holy Saturday," said our 
guide; "the Tyrolese keep the festival with every 
ceremony." And so it was; civilization has passed 
that land by and not left a trace of its unbelieving 
touch; the resurrection of Christ is still for them the 
tangible proof of revelation, and they honor the sea- 
son accordingly. Bands of musicians, for which the 
Tyrolese have always been noted, traverse every 
valley, singing the beautiful Easter hymns to their 
guitars; calling out the people to their doors, who join 
them in the choruses and together rejoice on this glad 
anniversary. 'Their wide-brimmed hats are decorated 
with bouquets of flowers ; crowds of children accom- 
pany them, and when the darkness of night comes on, 
bear lighted torches of the pine wood, which throw 
grotesque shadows over the spectators and picturesque 
wooden huts. The Pasch or Paschal eggs, which have 



MARY'S EASTER 17 

formed a necessary part of all Easter offerings for cen- 
turies past, are not forgotten; some are dyed in the 
brightest colors and boiled hard ; others have suitable 
mottoes written on the shells, and made ineffaceable 
by a rustic process of chemistry. The good wife has 
these ready prepared, and when the children bring 
their baskets they are freely given ; at the higher class 
of the farmers' houses wine is brought out as well as 
eggs, and the singers are refreshed and regaled in 
return for their Easter carols. 



MARY'S EASTER 

BY MARIE MASON 

Easter lilies freshly bloom 
O'er the open, conquered tomb; 
Cups of incense, pure and fair, 
Pour oblations on the air. 
Easter-glory sudden flows 
Through the portal none may close; 
Death and darkness flee away, 
Christ the Lord is risen to-day ! 

Shining forms are sitting by 
Where the folded garments lie; 
Loving Mary knows no fear 
While the waiting angels hear 
" They have taken my Lord away, 
Know ye where he lies to-day ? " 
Sweet they answer to her cry, 
As their pinions pass her by. 



18 EASTER 

See the Master stand to greet 
Her that weepeth at His feet. 
" Mary ! " At the tender word 
Well she knows her risen Lord! 
All her love and passion breaks 
In the single word she speaks : — 
Hear the sweet "Rabboni!" tell 
All her woman-heart so well ! 

"Quickly go and tell it out 
Unto others round about. 
Thou hast been forgiven much; 
Tell it, Mary unto such. 
By thy love within thy heart, 
This my word to them impart; 
Death shall touch thy soul no more, 
Christ thy Lord hath gone before ! " 



MEDLEVAL EASTER PLAYS 

BY HENRY BARRETT HINCKLEY 

The modern drama had its origin in the Easter 
services of the mediaeval church. Readers of the New 
Testament are well acquainted with the supreme im- 
portance which Saint Paul attached to the Resurrec- 
tion. To him it was the demonstration, not merely 
of the immortality of the soul, but of the truth of the 
entire Christian religion. Furthermore, the narrative 
element in the gospels, is nowhere so conspicuous and 
so sustained as in the account of events from the en- 



MEDIEVAL EASTER PLAYS 19 

try into Jerusalem. Even the story of the birth of 
Jesus, is comparatively meager, and appears more- 
over in but two of the canonical gospels. Nor has it 
so fully developed the element of contest so necessary 
to effective drama. In this respect the persecution of 
Herod and the flight into Egypt is less adequate, than 
the repeated efforts of the Jews to entrap Jesus, his 
arrest, his trial or examination first by the Jews and 
then by Pilate, the effort of Pilate to save him, his 
crucifixion, death and burial, the setting of a watch, 
and the victorious resurrection. To these tradition 
added a descent into hell. Everywhere we find Christ 
opposed by all the hostile forces of the world. 

At least as early as the fourth century we find, as 
the most important form of public worship, the mass 
which is essentially a commemoration of the last acts 
of Christ. Later it was believed that these events 
were actually repeated as often as the mass was 
celebrated. During the ninth century began a process 
of liturgical elaboration. The desire for more sing- 
ing was strongly felt. At first there were added 
melodies without words, simple vowel sounds being 
uttered. Then texts were written. And the respon- 
sive chanting of the two halves of the quire gave the 
words of scripture. Already there was something in 
the nature of an oratorio. In a manuscript belonging 
to the Abbey of Saint Gall, in Switzerland, we find ar- 
ranged for chanting the dialogue between the three 
Maries and the angel, at the tomb : 

"Whom seek ye at the sepulcher, O worshippers of Christ?" 
"Jesus of Nazareth the crucified, O habitants of heaven." 



20 EASTER 

"He is not here, he has arisen, as he predicted. 
Go, proclaim that he has risen from the sepulcher. ,, 

" I have risen." 

The dialogue was later accompanied by appropriate 
action. We find in the church something that served 
for a sepulcher, in which on Good Friday a cross was 
solemnly buried, and very early on Easter morning one 
of the priests would privately remove it. Then at the 
mass, one personating the angel would remove a cloth 
to show that the sepulcher was empty, and the other 
priests with spices, personating the Maries, would 
approach to look in and see. The dialogue and action 
both grew. The running of John and Peter to the 
sepulcher was an early addition. And the supper at 
Emmaus and the conviction of Thomas appear before 
the drama has yet ceased to be a part of the liturgy. 

Once the parts in the ritual were taken by individ- 
uals, rather than chanted by portions of the quire, we 
find the costuming and acting more and more devel- 
oped. The angel bears an ear of grain, as a symbol 
of the resurrection; the Maries wear veils; the angel 
has wings. Account books survive in England, France 
and Germany, from which details may be gathered. 
But as a church service " the office of the sepulcher/' 
as the ceremony was called, always remained imper- 
fectly dramatic. As late as 1593 when Shakespeare's 
plays were already seen at the Globe Theater, we find 
a detailed description of " the office of the sepulcher " 
as performed at the Abbey Church of Durham (where, 
to be sure, the people were more conservative than in 
the south of England), which shows that the play is 



THE DAY OF VICTORY 21 

still a ritual, an act of worship. On the continent the 
"office of the Sepulcher " was performed in certain 
churches as late as the eighteenth century. 

Meanwhile similar ceremonies had developed in 
celebration of the birth of Christ. When these had 
become too large for representation in the church they 
were acted outside of it, in the churchyard or in the 
public squares. The representations then ceased to be 
ritualistic and became frankly spectacular. The whole 
Biblical history was enacted at public festivities. But 
even so the plays still remained an important source of 
religious instruction, and there survive the words of a 
mediaeval preacher who refers to them for corrobora- 
tion of his sermon. The resurrection was now but a 
detail, and its dramatic possibilities were far less 
worked out than those of various other parts of the 
Bible story, for the two most striking figures in these 
miracle plays or mysteries were Noah's Wife, to whom 
Chaucer refers, and King Herod who is mentioned 
even by Hamlet. 



THE DAY OF VICTORY 

BY RACHEL CAPEN SCHAUFFLER 

Rise my soul and break your prison ; 
For the Christ, your Lord, is risen ! 
While His victories avail you, 
Death nor terror can assail you ; 
Rise with Him and, with Him, risen, 
Run to visit souls in prison ; 



22 EASTER 

Show them how your bonds were broken, 
Lend them all your keys in token 
That you fought your ways from prison 
By the help of Jesus Risen. 



THE STONE OF THE SEPULCHER 

BY SUSAN COOLIDGE 

" How shall the stone be rolled away ? " 
Thus questioned they, the women three, 
Who at dim dawn went forth to see 
The sealed and closely guarded cell 
Where slept the Lord they loved so well. 
First of all Easter sacrifice, 
The linen and the burial spice, 
They carried, as with anxious speech 
They sadly questioned, each to each : 
Still, as they near and nearer drew 
The puzzle and the terror grew, 
And none had word of cheer to say ; 
But lo, the stone was rolled away ! 

" How shall the stone be rolled away ? " 
So, like the Marys, question we, 
As looking on we dimly see 
Some mighty barrier raise its head 
To bar the path we needs must tread. 
Our little strength seems weakness made, 
Our hearts are faint and sore afraid ; 
Drooping we journey on alone. 



AT EASTER TIME 23 

We only mark the heavy stone, 
We do not see the helping Love 
Which moves before us as we move, 
Which chides our faithless, vain dismay, 
And rolls for us the stone away. 

" How shall the stone be rolled away? " 
Ah, many a heart, with terrors pent, 
Has breathed the question as it went, 
With faltering feet and failing breath, 
In the chill company of death, 
Adown the narrow path and straight, 
Which all must traverse soon or late, 
And nearing thus the dreaded tomb, 
Just in the thickest, deepest gloom, 
Has heard the stir of angel wings, 
Dear voices, sweetest welcomings, 
And, as on that first Easter day, 
Has found the dread stone rolled away ! 



AT EASTER TIME* 

BY LAURA E. RICHARDS 

The little flowers came through the ground, 

At Easter time, at Easter time : 
They raised their heads and looked around, 

At happy Easter time. 
And every pretty bud did say, 

" Good people, bless this holy day, 

*By permission of the Bible House. 



24 EASTER 

For Christ is risen, the angels say 
At happy Easter time ! " 

Jhe pure white lily raised its cup 

At Easter time, at Easter time. 
The crocus to the sky looked up 

At happy Easter time. 
'" We'll hear the song of Heaven ! " they say, 

" It's glory shines on us to-day. 
Qh ! may it shine on us alway 

At holy Easter time ! " 

'Twas long and long and long ago, 

That Easter time, that Easter time ; 
But still the pure white lilies blow 

At happy Easter time. 
And still each little flower doth say, 

" Good Christians, bless this holy day, 
For Christ is risen, the angels say 

At blessed Easter time ! " 



EASTER DAWN 

BY FRANCES RIDLEY HAVERGAL 

It is too calm to be a dream, 
Too gravely sweet, too full of power, 
Prayer changed to praise this very hour. 

Yes, heard and answered ! though it seem 
Beyond the hope of yesterday, 
Beyond the faith that dared to pray, 



EASTER ORGAN MUSIC 25 

Yet not beyond the love that heard, 
And not beyond the faithful word 
On which each trembling prayer may rest 
And win the answer truly best. 

Yes, heard and answered ! sought and found ! 
I breathe a golden atmosphere 
Of solemn joy, and seem to hear 

Within, above, and all around, 
The chime of deep cathedral bells, 
An early herald peal that tells 
A glorious Easter tide begun ; 
While yet are sparkling in the sun 
Large raindrops of the night storm passed, 
And days of Lent are gone at last. 



EASTER ORGAN MUSIC 

BY HARVEY B. GAUL 

There is one difficulty that Easter brings, and that 
is the exceeding worry of finding appropriate Easter 
organ music. Organ music for Christmas is compara- 
tively easy to find — composers have left us a vast 
heritage relative to the Nativity — but for the Resur- 
rection there seems to be little available literature. 

The following compendium of Easter organ music 
is not all-inclusive. Nor is it intended to include every 
organ piece with the title or suggestion that Christus 
resurrectus est It is compiled with the desire — 



26 EASTER 

Baedeker fashion — to lighten the search and point 
out the advantageous works. Also to encourage or- 
ganists in the belief that there are other works more 
appropriate for Easter than Mendelssohn's Spring 
Song and Grieg's To Spring, even if Easter is the sap- 
ping, budding printemps. 

In preparing this list it was deemed advisable to cata- 
logue the pieces in four sections, starting with pre- 
ludes. 

The Prelude to The Resurrection, Bullard, offers a 
splendid opportunity for opening the service. In the 
same capacity the Prologue to Christ, the Victor, by 
Dudley Buck, may be placed, Mozart's Resurrexit, 
also has excellent preludial effects, and with it may be 
included Springer's Easter Alleluia. For melody 
Parkhurst's In the Gloom of Easter Morn is to be 
recommended. 

In the matter of Interludes or Offertories the follow- 
ing pieces are good: Anthem for the Sunday after 
Easter, Guilmant; Offertoire pour la fete de paques, 
Grison; Easter Hymn, Oliver; Air de la Pentecote, 
from Easter cantata, Bach ; Gloria in excelsis, Burger. 
These works will supply the needs for Interludes; 
some of them may be used for Preludes. For the 
purpose of concluding the service Easter Recessional, 
Flagler; March on Easter Themes, Mark Andrews; 
Easter March, Merkl, are all strong virile works, 
with the march rhythm firmly announced. Also in the 
class of Postludes may be included, Hosannah Chorus 
Magnus, Dubois ; Hosanna, Wachs ; Hosanna, Granier ; 
Hosannahj Lemmens. For organ recital pieces — and 



EASTER ORGAN MUSIC 27 

Easter is a very good time for organ recitals on account 
of the vast congregations to be seated — the following 
works will be found suitable; they are not only more 
ambitious, and of larger caliber, but offer passages for 
telling solo effects: Easter Morning, Mailing; Old 
Easter Melody, John West; Easter Morn (a medita- 
tion), West; and Resurrection Mom, Johnston; com- 
mended not only for melodic work, but for varied and 
interesting structure and passage opportunity. 

Also for concert work: Alleluia! O Alii et ffliae, 
Loret; and fflii et Miae, Lizst, and Paques fleurie.s, 
Mailly. For display purposes requiring full organ ef- 
fects these works should be considered: Fantasia on 
Jesus Christ is Risen To-day, Peter Lutkin ; Fantasia 
on an Easter Plain Song, Wilan; and Fantasia on a 
Carol, West. 

For the person who was educated in the English 
School of church music and who firmly believes no bet- 
ter or more fitting works were ever written than the 
oratorio choruses, the following transcriptions are ad- 
visable. They may be used for Preludes, Interludes, 
Postludes ad libitum, or even da capo: Achieved is the 
glorious work, Haydn; the Hallelujah Chorus, Han- 
del; the Hallelujah Chorus from Mount of Olives, 
Beethoven ; Gloria in excelsis, Mozart ; and All glory 
to the Lamb that died, from Last Judgment, Spohr. 
Really good transcriptions may be found or made, 
from the following oratorio solos : The trumpet shall 
sound; I know that my Redeemer liveth, and Thou 
didst not leave His soul in hell, from Handel's Mes- 
siah. The last two have the charm of being unhack- 



28 EASTER 

neyed and if good solo stops are employed they are 
most acceptable pieces. 



SONG OF EASTER* 

BY CELIA THAXTER 

Sing, children, sing! 
And the lily censers swing ; 
Sing that life and joy are waking and that Death no 

more is king. 
Sing the happy, happy tumult of the slowly brighten- 
ing spring; 

Sing, children, sing! 

Sing, children, sing! 
Winter wild has taken wing. 
Fill the air with the sweet tidings till the frosty echoes 

ring! 
Along the eaves the icicles no longer glittering cling ; 
And the crocus in the garden lifts its bright face to the 

Sun, 
And in the meadows softly the brooks begin to run ; 
And the golden catkins swing 
In the warm airs of the spring ; 

Sing, little children, sing! 

Sing, little children, sing! 
The lilies white you bring 
In the joyous Easter morning for hope are blossoming; 

* By permission of Houghton Mifflin Co. 



NATURE'S EASTER MUSIC 29 

And as the earth her shroud of snow from off her 
breast doth fling, 

So may we cast our fetters off in God's eternal spring. 

So may we find release at last from sorrow and from 
pain, 

So may we find our childhood's calm, delicious dawn 
again. 

Sweet are your eyes, O little ones, that look with smil- 
ing grace, 

Without a shade of doubt or fear into the Future's 
face! 

Sing, sing in happy chorus, with joyful voices tell 

That death is life, and God is good, and all things 
shall be well ; 

That bitter days shall cease 

In warmth and light and peace, — 

That winter yields to spring, — 

Sing, little children, sing! 



NATURE'S EASTER MUSIC* 

BY LUCY LARCOM 

The flowers from the earth have arisen, 
They are singing their Easter-song; 

Up the valleys and over the hillsides 
They come, an unnumbered throng. 

Oh, listen ! The wild-flowers are singing 
Their beautiful songs without words ! 

*By permission of Houghton Mifflin Co. 



30 EASTER 

They are pouring the soul of their music 
Through the voices of happy birds. 

Every flower to a bird has confided 
The joy of its blossoming birth — 

The wonder of its resurrection 
From its grave in the frozen earth. 

For you chirp the wren and the sparrow, 
Little Eyebright, Anemone pale ! 

Gay Columbine, orioles are chanting 
Their trumpet-note loud on the gale. 

The buttercup's thanks for the sunshine 
The goldfinch's twitter reveals ; 

And the violet trills, through the bluebird, 
Of the heaven that within her she feels. 

The song-sparrow's exquisite warble 
Is born in the heart of the rose — 

Of the wild-rose, shut in its calyx, 
Afraid of belated snows. 

And the melody of the wood-thrush 
Floats up from the nameless and shy 

White blossoms that stay in the cloister 
Of pine-forests, dim and high. 

The dust of the roadside is vocal ; 

There is music from every clod; 
Bird and breeze are the wild-flowers' angels, 

Jheir messages bearing to God. 



NATURE'S EASTER MUSIC 31 

" We arise and we praise Him together ! " 

With a flutter of petal and wings, 
The anthem of spirits immortal 

Rings back from created things. 

And nothing is left wholly speechless; 

For the dumbest life that we know 
May utter itself through another, 

And double its gladness so! 

The trees have the winds to sing for them ; 

The rock and the hill have the streams; 
And the mountain and thunderous torrents 

Jhat waken old Earth from her dreams. 

She awakes to the Easter-music; 

Her bosom with praise overflows ; 
The forest breaks forth into singing, 

For the desert has bloomed as the rose. 

And whether in trances of silence 

We think of our Lord arisen, 
Or whether we carol with angels 

At the open door of His prison, 

He will give us an equal welcome 

Whatever the tribute we bring; 
For to Him who can read the heart's music 

L To blossom with love is to sing. 



32 EASTER 

HOW MORAVIANS OBSERVE EASTER* 

BY CHARLES H. ROMINGER 

Many unique observances of this season may be 
found in every quarter of the globe. The forms vary, 
but one theme inspires them all, — the Savior returned 
to earth; Messiah risen from the dead. There is in 
our home-land a custom that is tried and true. It is 
the celebration of Easter by the Moravians, in Bethle- 
hem, Pa., a custom that has been introduced in many 
lands and accepted wherever it has gone, as one of the 
cherished possessions of this ancient church. 

The Easter in Bethlehem, Pa., begins on Palm Sun- 
day Eve. This service, which is held in the large 
Moravian Church, consists of readings from the Pas- 
sion Week Manual, a compilation from the Synoptic 
Gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke), interspersed with 
suitable hymns, a brief address and a prayer. Read- 
ings from this manual continue through the whole of 
Easter Week. As far as possible, the closing scenes 
of the Savior's earthly ministry are reviewed on the 
respective days of the week on which they occurred. 
The simple story of the Passion Week, unembellished 
and unbroken, is undoubtedly an effective preparation 
for the celebration of Easter Day. Devout Moravians 
attend these services in large numbers, while Christians 
of every name and creed may be found in the crowded 
church. The children of the Moravian Parochial 

*From The Sunday-School World. By permission of the 
American Sunday- School Union. 



HOW MORAVIANS OBSERVE EASTER 33 

School attend with their teachers and occupy reserved 
seats in the front part of the sanctuary. The simplicity 
of this custom and the ardor of those who read, to- * 
gether with the evident devotion of the auditors, in- 
delibly stamp upon the mind the lessons of the Easter 
season. 

Palm Sunday is a day of rejoicing among Moravians. 
It is the day when candidates for confirmation, who 
have been pursuing a rigid course of study under the 
direction of the pastors of the Moravian Church, make 
a public confession of their faith and become members. 
The stately house of worship of the Bethlehem Mora- 
vian congregation is decorated with palms and greens 
in festive profusion. There is a ring of triumph in 
music and sermon, and there is always a large class 
of young people to make a public declaration of faith 
in the essentials of the Christian religion. Occasion- 
ally, too, older persons stand for the first time in the 
circle of the chosen and respond to the impressive 
service of confirmation, which makes this a memorable 
day for them. 

The services of Maundy Thursday are as solemn as 
the occasion demands. The cumulative force of the 
" words of Thursday," as they are read during the two 
afternoon meetings, cannot be realized in any other 
way than by setting aside the afternoon of the day 
before Good Friday to gather with hundreds of fellow 
believers and hearken to these words as they fell from 
the lips of the Master two thousands years ago. The 
evening service of communion brings back the vision 
of the upper room and the exhortation to the disciples. 



34 EASTER 

The white-gowned ministers bearing trays of bread 
and wine, the artistic arrangement of the service and 
the inspiring accumulation of song lend a significance 
to this eucharist that cannot fail to prepare every 
participant for the events of the dark days that fol- 
low. 

On the morning of Good Friday, at 10:30 o'clock, 
the congregation assembles for a service of reading 
and song. The dramatic "acts of Friday" are the 
theme. At 2:30 in the afternoon, the climax of the 
reading services is held, the closing scenes of the 
Crucifixion being reviewed. At 3 o'clock, the sup- 
posed hour of our Savior's death, the throng of wor- 
shipers kneel, while the deep-toned bell in the belfry 
over the ridge roof of the church tolls a solemn knell. 
The congregation rises and in reverent silence leaves 
the sanctuary. The Christ is dead. An evening 
vesper, which begins at 7 .'30 o'clock, is an exercise of 
song. It is a vigil for the Paschal Lamb, and, follow- 
ing, as it does, upon the solemn sadness of the morn- 
ing and afternoon watch, makes a profound impression 
of the greatness of Christ's sacrifice for sin. 

During the afternoon of Saturday, commonly known 
as Great Sabbath, a love-feast is held. This service, 
which opens at 3 o'clock, consists of a program of song 
and prayer. The congregation and choir vie with each 
other in expressions of praise and adoration to the 
King who gave them life and brotherly love through 
death. While this challenge of song is sounding, the 
dieners of the church — men and women dark groomed 
and practiced in the art of serving throngs of people 



HOW MORAVIANS OBSERVE EASTER 35 

■ — distribute buns and coffee. This friendly breaking 
of bread is accepted as a symbol of unity with each 
other and the wounded Lord. At 7 130, the congrega- , 
tion re-assembles for the Easter Eve watch. There 
is another vigil exercise of song, with a prayer and an 
interpretative word from the desk. It is a thought- 
ful preparation for the Resurrection Day. 

Many loyal Moravians do not sleep on Great Sab- 
bath night. They remain in the church to decorate for 
the celebration of Easter Day. At about 3 o'clock in 
the morning of the day to which the services of the 
entire week have been leading, the trombone choir 
starts out on a tour of Bethlehem and South Bethle- 
hem, playing carols to call the sleeping citizens to 
awake for the early morning watch in the cemetery un- 
der the giant tulip-trees. Here lie buried pioneer mis- 
sionaries of many lands, ministers of the church, 
citizens of community days and of modern Bethlehem, 
— a group of men and women in whose presence one 
must bow his head in reverence and thank the good 
Father for loyal servants in the vineyard of the world. 
In such a company one may well await the resurrection 
hour. Thousands of people from near and far come 
to this sunrise gathering. They crowd into the church 
nearby the cemetery and hear the announcement by the 
choir that the Master has arisen from the dead ; listen 
to the impressive words of the first part of the Mora- 
vian Easter liturgy; sing a song of rejoicing; and then 
slowly depart to the great square under the tulip-trees 
in the center of the old burying-ground, which has been 
apportioned for this service. Here, assisted by the 



36 EASTER 

trombone choir, the singing choir, and the ministers of 
the congregation, they complete the Easter liturgy in 
the open air, just as the first gleams of sunrise tint the 
eastern sky. There is in this gathering a rejoicing as 
pronounced as was the gloom which settled over the 
services of Friday and the watchful waiting of the 
Great Sabbath day. 

The other services of Easter Day are not dissimilar 
to those of churches of other names, but there is in 
them an atmosphere of triumph that would be im- 
possible without the days of careful preparation which 
have passed. On the eighth day after Easter, the re- 
maining acts set down in the Passion Manual are read. 
Easter is not, therefore, a transient festival in the 
Moravian Church. Its influence abides. It reechoes 
in the services many days — nay, months — after the 
season has fled. 



AWAKENING 

BY ROSE TERRY COOK 

With the first bright, slant beam, 
Out of the chilling stream 
Their cups of fragrant light 
Golden and milky white 
From folded darkness spring, 
Jo hail their King. 

Consider these, my soul! 
How the blind buds unroll 



ON EASTER MORN 37 

Touched with one tranquil ray 
Of rising day, 
Into the full delight 
Of lilies white. 

Out of thy streaming tears, 
Thy chill and darkening fears, 
Oh, sleeping soul, awake! 
Lo, on thy lonely lake, 
Thy sun begins to shine, 
Thy Light and Life divine! 

Consider these, my heart! 
Dreaming and cold thou art: 
Swift from thyself up-spring, 
Shine for thy King. 
Rise in His light, 
With garments white, 
Forget the night: 
The Lord hath arisen. 



ON EASTER MORN* 

BY EDITH M. THOMAS 

I had not known that I was dead, 
Until I heard it softly said 
By the quick grass above my head, 
And the many-budded thorn, 
On Easter morn. 

* By permission of Houghton Mifflin Co, 



38 EASTER 

" Yea, thou art dead " (these whispered mej,- 
" Dead long ago ; none seeketh thee ; 
Thy sealed eyes shall never see 
The Lord of Life put death to scorn 
On Easter morn.-" 

I said, " One thing deny me not : 
With all your bloom and verdure plot 
To make my grave the fairest spot 
That by His footsteps shall be worn 
On Easter morn." 

Then in the dim and sighing hour 
Ere over the darkness light hath power, 
They wrought together — blade and flower — 
The mold above me to adorn 
For Easter morn. 

I felt His footsteps pause and stay, 
Felt the sweet searching light of day. 
" Rise grateful dust ! " I heard Him say : 
" For thee have I put death to scorn 
On Easter morn." 



RUSSIAN EASTERS 
Abridged from the Saturday review 

Easter begins with a midnight service; but on the 
evening before, samples of the principal dishes to be 
used on the following day are brought into the church 
or placed on the outside steps, in order that they may 



RUSSIAN EASTERS 39 

share the blessing. Among these, truncated pyramids 
of curds and colored eggs are conspicuous. The 
streets are deserted, except in the neighborhood of the 
sacred buildings ; but these are filled to overflowing on 
this one occasion in the year, so that in the larger 
towns late comers must be content to view the cere- 
monies through the glass screen with which the more 
important churches are provided. At St. Petersburg 
all the higher officials are expected to attend the Im- 
perial Chapel, which is not large enough to contain 
a tenth of their number. The rest walk up and down, 
and form a kind of conversazione outside. All 
through Passion Week the services have been gloomy, 
the altar has been denuded of its ornaments, and the 
priests have appeared only in black robes. Even on 
Easter Eve only such lamps are lighted as are abso- 
lutely necessary to allow the worshipers to take their 
places in an orderly way. As soon as midnight is 
past the priests appear in white garments, intoning the 
Easter hymn ; and, when the tones are heard, the altar 
and the whole building are brilliantly lighted, as sud- 
denly as the means at the disposal of the authorities 
will permit. The exterior of the building is also 
illuminated, and where but a few minutes before all 
was darkness and gloom there is now a little island of 
light. The men are dressed in their best clothes, the 
women are all in white. After some ceremonies, the 
procession of priests passes down the aisle and round 
the exterior of the building. Everywhere the greet- 
ing " Christ hath risen/' with the response " Yea, He 
hath risen," may be heard ; and the customary three 



4 o EASTER 

kisses are given. Lent is over, and Easter has begun. 
The service, including the blessing of the food and the 
first Easter Mass, lasts till between two and three; 
after it is finished, the families return to their homes 
to break their long fast, and invite such of their friends 
as they may meet to accompany them. A large table 
is spread in the greatest room with all the delicacies 
and customary dishes of the season. In the good old 
times it was expected that the higher nobles should 
keep it fully furnished till Whitsuntide, and every one 
who entered the house was welcome to eat what he 
would standing by it ; but this custom has fallen into 
disuse, except perhaps in the most distant districts. 

The peasantry, hospitable as they are always, and 
more especially at this season of the year, cannot, of 
course, indulge in such excessive display; but they 
have observances of their own, particularly in South- 
ern Russia. Before he goes to church with all his 
family, the countryman must take care that some log 
is left burning in the stove, or some lamp before the 
image of a saint, at which the Easter candles can be 
lighted. To forget this is not only to bring ill luck 
upon the house, but also to show oneself religiously 
indifferent; in short, to be a most objectionable kind of 
person. Yet even for this sin there is forgiveness. . . . 

Whenever a few compatriots are gathered together, 
when the Russian Easter comes, whatever their politi- 
cal or religious opinions may be, the old table will be 
spread, the old greetings will be exchanged, and the 
old dishes as far as possible reproduced or imitated; 
for, quite apart from the religious aspect of the fes- 



AN EASTER CAROL 41 

tival, Easter is for the Russian what Christmas is for 
the German — above all things, a family gathering. 
Both are celebrated with pomp at Court, both are duly 
commemorated in church, but it is not in these facts 
that their attraction consists. They are loved and ob- 
served because they recall memories of childhood — 
and because they furnish a yearly opportunity of re- 
newing old friendships and making up new differences. 



AN EASTER CAROL 

BY CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI 

Spring bursts to-day, 
For Christ is risen and all the earth's at play. 

Flash forth, thou Sun. 
The rain is over and gone, its work is done. 

Winter is past, 
Sweet Spring is come at last, is come at last. 

Bud, Fig and Vine, 
Bud, Olive, fat with fruit and oil and wine. 

Break forth this morn 
In roses, thou but yesterday a thorn. 

Uplift thy head, 
O pure white Lily through the Winter dead. 

Beside your dams 
Leap and rejoice, you merry-making Lambs. 



42 EASTER 

All Herds and Flocks 
Rejoice, all Beasts of thickets and of rocks. 

Sing, Creatures, sing, 
Angels and Men and Birds and everything. 



EASTER EVEN 

BY MARGARET FRENCH PATTON 

Our dear Lord now is taken from the cross, 
His bruised body wrapped in linen cool, 
And laid by loving hands in Joseph's tomb ; 
Outraged Nature bows her head and sleeps; 
The guard is set; Jerusalem is still. 

Ye sleeping buds, break 

Open your green cerements, and wake 

To fragrant blossoming for His sweet sake ; 

To-morrow will be Easter day, 

And I would have my garden gay 

On Easter day. 

Ye home-bound birds, take 

Swift-winged flight, that from my budding brake 

Your joyful hallelujahs ye may make; 

To-morrow will be Easter day, 

And I would have my garden gay 

On Easter day. 



THE BARREN EASTER 43 

Ye strolling winds, shake 

Out your drooping sails, and heavenward take 

The songs and sweet aromas for His sake; 

To-morrow will be Easter day, 

And I would have my garden gay 

On Easter day. 

Early in the morning while 'tis dark, 

Like Mary Magdalen, with spices rare, 

I, too, shall hasten to my garden fair 

To seek, our risen Lord. Who knows ? For love 

Of birds and buds He may be walking there. 



THE BARREN EASTER 

BY CLINTON SCOLLARD 

It was the barren Easter, 

And o'er Pamello plain, 
Where'er the sweeping eye might rove, 
From beechen grove to beechen grove, 

Greened neither grass nor grain. 

It was the barren Easter; 

By vale and windy hill, 
Where blossoms tossed on yester year, 
Now bourgeoned no narcissus spear, 

And glowed no daffodil. 

It was the barren Easter, 
And toward the grinding-floor, 



44 EASTER 

A store of wheat within his pack, 
Along the dreary meadow-track 
Went good Saint Isadore. 

It was the barren Easter, 

And when the sweet saint came 
To where a mighty live-oak spread, 
A host of wrens and starlings red 
Seemed crying out his name. 

It was the barren Easter, 

And to his ears their cry 
Rang plaintively, "O Isadore, 
Grant us thy pity, we implore! 

Give succor, or we die ! " 

It was the barren Easter 

When wide he flung his store, 
And all the feathered folk of air 
Sped whirring downward for their share 
From kind Saint Isadore. 

It was the barren Easter 

And onward to the mill 
Along the dreary meadow-track, 
The empty bags within his pack, 

The good saint plodded still. 

It was the barren Easter ; 

He scarce knew why he went, 
Save that he did not dare return 



A MADRIGAL "45 

To face his master, grim and stern, 
Now all his grain was spent. 

It was the barren Easter; 

When at the miller's feet 
He cast the sacks in dull despair, 
Behold, he saw them open there 

Abrim with golden wheat! 

It was the barren Easter; 

Oh, meager are men's words 
To tell how He that rose that day, 
And drove the wraith of Death away, 

Helped him who fed the birds! 



A MADRIGAL 

BY CLINTON SCOLLARD 

Easter-glow and Easter-gleam! 
Lyric laughter from the stream 
That between its banks so long 
Murmured such a cheerless song ; 
Stirrings faint and fine and thin 
Every woodsy place within; 
Root and tendril, bough and bole, 
Rousing with a throb of soul ; 
The old ecstasy awake 
In the briar and the brake; 
Blue-bird raptures — dip and run - 
And the robin-antiphon ; 
Tingling air and trembling earth, 



46 EASTER 

And the crystal cup of mirth 

Brimmed and lifted to the lip 

For each one of us to sip. 

Dream ! — 'tis something more than dream, 

Easter-glow and Easter-gleam! 

Prescience 'tis, and prophecy 

Of the wonder that shall be 

When the spirit leaps to light 

After death's heimal night! 



THE BELLS OF KREMLIN 

BY AUGUSTUS J. G. C. HARE 

Though the tower of Ivan Veliki is the finest belfry 
in Russia, it has no special beauty, but being two hun- 
dred and sixty-nine feet high, towers finely above all 
the other buildings of the Kremlin in the distant views. 
Halfway up is a gallery, whence the sovereigns from 
Boris to Peter the Great used to harangue the people. 
The exquisite bells are only heard in perfection on 
Easter Eve at midnight. On the preceding Sunday 
r (Palm Sunday) the people have resorted in crowds to 
the Kremlin to buy branches, artificial flowers, 
and boughs with waxen fruits to hang before their 
icons. On Holy Thursday the Metropolitan has 
washed the feet of twelve men, representing the 
Apostles, in the cathedral, using the dialogue recorded 
in John xii. Then at midnight on Easter Eve the 
great bell sounds, followed by every other bell in Mos- 
cow ; the whole city blazes into light ; the tower of Ivan 



THE BELLS OF KREMLIN 47 

Veliki is illuminated from its foundation to the cross 
on its summit. The square below is filled with a mot- 
ley throng, and around the churches are piles of 
Easter cakes, each with a taper stuck in it, waiting for 
a blessing. The interior of the Church of the Rest of 
the Virgin is thronged by a vast multitude bearing 
waxed tapers. The Metropolitan and his clergy, in 
robes blazing with gold and precious stones, have made 
the external circuit of the church three times, and then, 
through the great doors, have advanced towards the 
throne between myriads of lights. No words can de- 
scribe the colors, the blaze, the roar of the universal 
chant. Descending from the throne, the Metropolitan 
has incensed the clergy and the people, and the clergy 
have incensed the Metropolitan, whilst the spectators 
have bowed and crossed themselves incessantly. After 
a service of two hours the Metropolitan has advanced, 
holding a cross which the people have thronged to kiss. 
He has then retired to sanctuary, whence, as Ivan 
Veliki begins to toll, followed by a peal from a thou- 
sand bells announcing the stroke of midnight, he 
emerges in a plain purple robe, and announces, 
" Christos voscres ! " Christ is risen. Then kisses 
of love are universally exchanged, and, most remark- 
able of all the Metropolitan, on his hands and knees, 
crawls around the church kissing the icons on the 
walls, the altars, and the tombs, and, through their 
then opened sepulchers, the incorruptible bodies of the 
saints. After this no meetings take place without the 
salutation " Christos voscres/' and the answer, " Vo 
istine voscres " (He is risen). 



4 8 EASTER 

OF THE LORD'S DAY AND EASTER* 

BY WILLIAM CAVE 

Time is a circumstance no less inseparable from re- 
ligious actions than place, for man consisting of a soul 
and body cannot always be actually engaged in the 
service of God: that is the privilege of angels, and 
souls freed from the fetters of mortality. So long 
as we are here, we must worship God with respect to 
our present state, and consequently of necessity have 
some definite and particular time to do it in. Now, 
that a man might not be left to a floating uncertainty 
in a matter of so great importance, in all ages and 
nations men have been guided by the very dictates of 
nature to pitch upon some certain seasons, wherein to 
assemble and meet together to perform the public 
offices of religion. The ancient Christians ever had 
their peculiar seasons, their solemn and stated times 
of meeting together to perform the common duties of 
divine worship; of which, the Lord's-day challenges 
the precedency of all the rest. . . . 

The name of this day of public worship is some- 
times, especially by Justin Martyr and Tertullian, 
called Sunday, because it happened upon- that day of 
the week which by the heathens was dedicated to the 
sun; and therefore, as being best known to them, the 
Fathers commonly made use of it in their Apologies 
to the heathen governors. This title continued after 
the world became Christian, and seldom it is that it 

*By permission of George Routledge and Sons, Ltd. 



OF THE LORD'S DAY AND EASTER 49 

passes under any other name in the imperial edicts 
of the first Christian emperors. But the more proper 
and prevailing name was Dies Dominica, the Lord's- 
day, as it was called by St. John himself, as being 
that day of the week whereon our Lord made his tri- 
umphant return from the dead. This, Justin Martyr 
assures us, was the original of the title. " Upon Sun- 
day," he says, "we all assemble and meet together, 
as being the first day wherein God, parting the dark- 
ness from the rude chaos, created the world, and the 
same day whereon Jesus Christ our Saviour rose again 
from the dead; for he was crucified the day before 
Saturday, and the day after (which is Sunday) he 
appeared to his apostles and disciples " : by this means 
observing a kind of analogy and proportion with the 
Jewish Sabbath, which had been instituted by God him- 
self. For as that day was kept as a commemoration 
of God's Sabbath, or resting from the work of crea- 
tion, so was this set apart to religious uses, as the 
solemn memorial of Christ's resting from the work of 
our redemption in this world, completed upon the day 
of his resurrection. Which brings into my mind that 
custom of theirs so universally common in those days, 
that whereas at other times they kneeled at prayers, 
on the Lord's-day they always prayed standing, as is 
expressly affirmed both by Justin Martyr and Ter- 
tullian ; the reason of which we find in the authors of 
the Questions and Answers in Justin Martyr. " It 
is," says he, "that by this means we may be put in 
mind both of our fall by sin, and our resurrection or 
restitution by the grace of Christ; that for six days 



50 EASTER 

we pray upon our knees, as in token of our fall by 
sin; but that on the Lord's-day we do not bow the 
knee, does symbolically represent our resurrection by 
which through the grace of Christ we are delivered 
from our sins, and the power of death." This, he 
there tells us, was a custom derived from the very 
times of the apostles, for which he cites Irenaeus in his 
book concerning Easter; and this custom was main- 
tained with so much vigor, that, when some began to 
neglect it, the great council of Nice took notice of it, 
and ordained that there should be a constant uniform- 
ity in this case, and that on the Lord's-day (and at 
such times as were usual) men should stand when 
they made their prayers to God. So fit and reasonable 
did they think it to do all possible honor to that day 
on which Christ rose from the dead. Therefore we 
may observe, all along in the sacred story, that after 
Christ's resurrection the apostles and the primitive 
Christians did especially assemble upon the first day 
of the week: and, whatever they might do at other 
times, yet there are many passages that intimate that 
the first day of the week was their most solemn time 
of meeting. . . . 

They looked upon the Lord's-day as a time to be 
celebrated with great expressions of joy, as being the 
happy memory of Christ's resurrection, and accord- 
ingly restrained whatever might savor of sorrow and 
sadness. Fasting on that day they prohibited with the 
greatest severity, accounting it utterly unlawful, as 
Tertullian informs us. . . . They never fasted on that 
day, no, not in the time of Lent itself ; nay, the Mon- 



OF THE LORD'S DAY AND EASTER 51 

tanists, though otherwise great pretenders to fasting 
and mortification, did yet abstain from it on the Lord's- 
day. And, as they accounted it a joyful and good day, 
so they did whatever they thought might contribute to 
the honor of it. No sooner was Constantine come 
over the church but his principle care was about the 
Lord's-day. He commanded it to be solemnly ob- 
served, and that by all persons whatsoever. He made 
it to all a day of rest; that men might have nothing 
to do but to worship God, and be better instructed in 
the Christian faith, and spend their whole time without 
anything to hinder them in prayer and devotion, ac- 
cording to the custom and discipline of the church. 
And for those in his army, who yet remained in their 
paganism and infidelity, he commanded them upon the 
Lord's-day to go into the fields, and there pour out 
their souls in hearty prayers to God; and that none 
might pretend their own inability to the duty, he him- 
self composed and gave them a short form of prayer, 
which he enjoined them to make use of every Lord's- 
day: so careful was he that this day should not be 
dishonored or misemployed, even by those who were 
yet strangers and enemies to Christianity. He more- 
over ordained that there should be no courts of judi- 
cature open upon this day, no suits or trials at law; 
but that for any works of mercy, such as emancipating 
and setting free of slaves or servants, this might be 
done. That there should be no suits nor demanding 
debts upon this day, was confirmed by several laws of 
succeeding emperors. . . . Theodosius the Great, anno 
386, by a second law ratified one he had passed long 



52 EASTER 

before, wherein he expressly prohibited all public 
shows upon the Lord's-day, that the worship of God 
might not be confounded with those profane solem- 
nities. This law the younger Theodosius some years 
after confirmed and enlarged, enacting, that on the 
Lord's-day not only Christians, but even Jews and 
heathens, should be restrained from the pleasure of all 
sights and spectacles, and the theaters be shut up in 
every place ; and whereas it might so happen that the 
birthday or inauguration of the emperor might fall 
upon that day, therefore to let the people know how 
infinitely he preferred the honor of God, before the 
concerns of his own majesty and greatness, he com- 
manded that the imperial solemnity should be put off 
till another day. 

The early Christians did not think it enough to read 
and pray and praise God at home, but made conscience 
of appearing in the public assemblies, from which 
nothing but sickness and absolute necessity did detain 
them : and if sick, or in prison, or under banishment, 
nothing troubled them more than that they could not 
come to church, and join their devotions to the com- 
mon services. If persecution at any time forced them 
to keep a little close, yet no sooner was there the least 
mitigation, but they presently returned to their open 
duty, and publicly met all together. No trivial pre- 
tenses, no light excuses, were then admitted for any 
one's absence from the congregation, but, according 
to the merit of the cause, severe censures were passed 
upon them. The synod of Illiberis provided that if 
any man dwelling in a city (where usually churches 



COMPENSATION 53 

were nearest hand) should for three Lord's-days ab- 
sent himself from the church, he should for some time 
be suspended the communion, that he might appear 
to be corrected for his fault. 



COMPENSATION 

BY AN UNKNOWN ENGLISH POET 

The graves grow thicker, and life's ways more bare, 

As years on years go by : 
Nay, thou hast more green gardens in thy care, 

And more stars in thy sky! 

Behind, hopes turned to grief, and joy to memories, 

Are fading out of sight; 
Before, pains changed to peace, and dreams to cer- 
tainties, 
' 'Are glowing in God's light. 

Hither come backslidings, defeats, distresses, 

Vexing this mortal strife ; 
Thither go progress, victories, successes, 

Crowning immortal life. 

Few jubilees, few gladsome, festive hours, 

Form landmarks for my way; 
But heaven and earth, and saints and friends and 
flowers, 

Are keeping Easter Day! 



54 EASTER 

EASTER WEEK 

BY CHARLES KINGSLEY 

See the land, her Easter keeping, 

Rises as her Maker rose. 
Seeds, so long in darkness sleeping, 

Burst at last from winter snows. 
Earth with heaven above rejoices, 

Fields and gardens hail the spring ; 
Shaughs and woodlands ring with voices, 

While the wild birds build and sing. 

You to whom your Maker granted 

Powers to those sweet birds unknown, 
Use the craft by God implanted ; 

Use the reason not your own. 
Here, while heaven and earth rejoices, 

Each his Easter tribute bring — 
Work of fingers, chant of voices, 

Like the birds who build and sing. 



THE APPARITION OF CHRIST TO HIS 
MOTHER 

BY MRS. JAMESON 

The enthusiastic and increasing veneration for the 
Madonna, the large place she filled in the religious 
teaching of the ecclesiastics and the religious senti- 
ments of the people, are nowhere more apparent, nor 
more strikingly exhibited, than in the manner in which 



APPARITION OF CHRIST 55 

she was associated with the scenes which followed the 
Passion ; — the manner in which some incidents were 
suggested, and treated with a peculiar reference to 
her, and to her maternal feelings. It is nowhere said 
that the Virgin-mother was one of the Maries who vis- 
ited the tomb on the morning of the resurrection, and 
nowhere is she so represented. But out of the human 
sympathy with that bereaved and longing heart, arose 
the beautiful legend of the interview between Christ 
and his Mother after he had risen from the dead. 

There existed a very ancient tradition (it is men- 
tioned by St. Ambrose in the fourth century, as be- 
ing then generally accepted by Christians), that Christ, 
after his return from Hades, visited his Mother even 
before he appeared to Mary Magdalene in the gar- 
den. . . . The reasoning which led to the conclusion 
was very simple. He whose last earthly thought was 
for his mother would not leave her without that con- 
solation it was in his power to give; and what, as a 
son, it was his duty to do (for the humanity of Christ 
is never forgotten by those who most intensely believed 
in his divinity) ; that, of course, he did do. 

The story is thus related: — Mary, when all was 
" finished/' retired to her chamber, and remained alone 
with her grief — not wailing, not repining, not hope- 
less, but waiting for the fulfillment of the promise. 
Open before her lay the volume of the prophecies ; and 
she prayed earnestly, and she said, " Thou didst prom- 
ise, O my most dear Son ! that thou wouldst rise again 
on the third day. Before yesterday was the day of 
darkness and bitterness, and, behold, this is the third 



56 EASTER 

day. Return then to me thy mother; O my Son, 
tarry not, but come ! " And while thus she prayed, 
lo ! a bright company of angels, who entered waving 
their palms and radiant with joy; and they surrounded 
her, kneeling and singing the triumphant Easter hymn, 
Regina Coeli Laetare, Alleluia! And then came Christ 
partly clothed in a white garment, having in his left 
hand the standard with the cross, as one just returned 
from the nether world, and victorious over the pow- 
ers of sin and death. And with him came the patri- 
archs and prophets, whose long-imprisoned spirits he 
had released from Hades. All these knelt before the 
Virgin, and saluted her, and blessed her, and thanked 
her, because through her had come their deliverance. 
But, for all this, the Mother was not comforted till 
she had heard the voice of her Son. Then he, rais- 
ing his hand in benediction, spoke and said, " I salute 
thee, O my mother ! " and she, weeping tears of joy, 
responded, " Is it thou indeed, my most dear Son ? " 
and she fell upon his neck, and he embraced her ten- 
derly, and showed her the wounds he had received for 
sinful man. Then he bade her be comforted and weep 
no more, for the pain of death had passed away, and 
the gates of hell had not prevailed against him. And 
she thanked him meekly on her knees, for that he had 
been pleased to bring redemption to man, and to make 
her the humble instrument of his great mercy. And 
they sat and talked together, until he took leave of her 
to return to the garden, and to show himself to Mary 
Magdalene, who, next to his glorious mother, had most 
need of consolation. 



EASTER 57 

EASTER* 

BY GENEVIEVE M. J. IRONS 

Deep in yon garden-shade 
The life of all is laid 

In death's calm sleep; 
Armed soldiers waiting near, 
Amazed and full of fear, 
Their vigil keep. 
Angels, and stars, and the fair moon above, 
Look down in silent awe and reverent love. 

Through the dark cypress-trees 
The gentle midnight breeze 

Sighs a low wail ; 
Breath from the dewy ground 
O'er the green earth around 
Spreads a soft veil ; 
Each glade and valley, mountain, dale, and hill, 
Echoes the solemn whisper, "Peace, be still." 

Hushed Nature sinks to rest, 
And on her Maker's breast 

She falls asleep ; 
Released from human woes, 
The Almighty finds repose 
In slumber deep ; 
But saints are watching through the silent night:, 
In eager patience waiting for the light. 

*By permission of Funk & Wagnalls Co. 



58 EASTER 

The mother undefiled 

Is pondering on her Child, 

Now crucified; 
And through her tearless dreams 
The cross in radiance beams, 
Whereon he died. 
Bright visions dawn. Behold! the darkness flies, 
Resplendent from the grave she sees him rise. 

John the Beloved stands by, 
Gazing with wondering eye 

At Mary's smile; 
And angels at the sight, 
Pause in their heavenward flight, 
To muse awhile. 
Yet the sun hides itself in dim eclipse, 
While he awaits his full apocalypse. 

Peter, who thrice denied 
The Master at his side, 

The Lord of all, 
With penitential tears 
And deep heart-searching fears, 
Bewails his fall. 
There, as he weeps in bitter grief apart, 
His Savior's look speaks comfort to his heart. 

iThe lowly Magdalene 
(Of penitents the queen)" 

Waits for the morn, 
When in that cave so still 



EASTER DAY 59 

Her task she may fulfill 
Of love forlorn; 
And first to her Christ risen shall appear, 
Though in a form unknown he draweth near. 

While he who longed to die 
With Christ on Calvary, 

Whose love devout 
His Master proved and tried 
By heartfelt prayer denied, 
Must wait in doubt ; 
Eight days of solemn gloom in darkness past, 
On trustful Thomas he will shine at last. 

But lo, the Sabbath ends ! 
Nocturn with matins blends, 

The morning breaks ; 
The shadows flee away 
Before the rising day, 
And Christ awakes ! 
Angels proclaim the anthem far and near, 
" Ye seek your risen Lord; he is not here." 

EASTER DAY 
by josephine rice creelman 

Morning 

Oh, Easter anthems gladly sing, 
Let all the bells from towers ring, 
And sun dispel with brightening rays, 
The darkness of the Passion days ! 



60 EASTER 

Fair lilies with their crystal light 
And eager, joyous greetings bright 
Proclaim the Lord has risen again, 
And put asunder death and pain ! 

Evening 

Now sweet the sound of Vesper-bells, 
The hour of evening prayer foretells, 
And comes a benediction calm, 
That robs the soul of all alarm, 
The sky has faded in the west, 
The world sinks to its peaceful rest, 
The Vesper Star a taper-light, 
Shines through the dark of Easter night ! 



A GLIMPSE OF EASTER IN THE AZORES 

BY HENRY SANDHAM 

Even the gray Lenten season wraps carnival's domino 
over its sackcloth and ashes for these people whose 
grace turns all to favor and prettiness; only the in- 
evitable statues of the tortured Christ remind one of 
the season, and soon wounds and bruises are hidden by 
violets, heliotrope, and pansies (amores perfeitos, they 
call them). To fast when one may feast is, in Azorean 
creed, lack of gratitude to a very good God, so Holy 
Thursday is a beautiful feast called Almond day, when 
one eats almond-sweets till he positively sickens at the 
shrill cry of almond-venders, which goes up from dawn 
Jill midnight, 



EGG ROLLING 61 

Good Friday is supposed to be the day of mourning, 
and in the churches the closing scenes of the Calvary 
tragedy are enacted. The three crosses rise on a rocky 
mound before the veiled high altar, whereon life-sized 
dummy figures are crucified by aid of pulleys and 
ropes and mechanical devices. The entombment takes 
place at a side altar, converted into a garden for the 
purpose, where life-sized figures in armor represent 
Roman sentinels. The Saturday continues Friday's 
gloom and darkness with the aid of much dreary chant- 
ting, till just at the hour of noon, when the droning 
clergy, marching round the church, pause before the 
chapel of the tomb in an instant's silence, there comes 
a cry of wonder at the discovery of the empty grave, 
and simultaneously with the cry the veils fall from the 
altars, and pictures, and the black curtains from the 
windows, letting a flood of light pour down on the 
crowded, excited people. The long-silent organ aug- 
mented by choir and orchestra, breaks out in triumph, 
the half-masted flags of the city run to the mast-head, 
and all the bells clash out their paean of joy. 



EGG ROLLING 

One of the annual sights in the city of Washington 
is Easter egg rolling on the White House grounds, on 
Easter Monday, in which several thousand children 
usually take part. The game is played in pairs, each 
player having one egg. These are rolled down hill, the 
unbroken egg taking its rival, if the latter is cracked. 



62 EASTER 

This custom probably came from Germany, where, at 
Easter-time, egg rolling is practiced on tracks made of 
sticks, laid side by side. In Germany the sport begins 
Easter-eve at midnight, and lasts about three hours. 
Apples and little round cakes are rolled as well as eggs. 

In Bohemia, children roll eggs in a row, starting 
them all at once, and watching to see which will reach 
the bottom of the hill first. 

In the north of England, eggs are used in playing 
hand ball on Easter-day. 



EGG ROLLING IN WASHINGTON 

ANONYMOUS 

March and April in Washington spell for the adult 
the perfection of a climate which at its best no capital 
on earth can surpass. Color, fragrance, and an almost 
indefinable sense that the appropriate necessary mood 
is one of languid leisure are pervasive. The spring 
odors and flowers seem suddenly to- flood the gardens 
and lawns. In the tiny six-by-two bed under a bay- 
window and in the stretches of living green by the river 
the daffodils have succeeded the crocus ; hyacinths and 
flaring tulips fill the borders, and even the stems in 
the hedges are full of color. Over every tree there is 
a smoky veil where the swelling leaf-buds have blurred 
the winter tracery of bare twigs against the sky, but 
are not yet heavy enough to cast a shade. 

Only the children seem energetic, especially on Easter 



EGG ROLLING IN WASHINGTON 63 

Monday, the great day for Washington babies. Along 
Pennsylvania Avenue they stream — well dressed, 
nurse-attended darlings mingling with the raggedest 
little negroes that ever snatched an egg from a market- 
basket. The wide street looks as if baby-blossom time 
had come, for there are hundreds of children who on 
this special afternoon storm the grounds of the White 
House for their annual egg-rolling. Long ago the 
sport took place on the terraces below the Capitol, and 
a visitor to the city then wrote : — 

" At first the children sit sedately in long rows ; each 
has brought a basket of gay-colored hard-boiled eggs, 
and those on the upper terrace send them rolling to the 
line on the next below, and these pass on the ribbon- 
like streams to other hundreds at the foot, who scram- 
ble for the hopping eggs and hurry panting to the 
top to start them down again. And as the sport warms 
those on top who have rolled all the eggs they brought 
finally roll themselves, shrieking with laughter. Now 
comes a swirl of curls and ribbons and furbelows, some- 
body's dainty maid indifferent to bumps and grass- 
stains. A set of boys who started in a line of six with 
joined hands are trying to come down in somersaults 
without breaking the chain. On all sides the older 
folk stand by to watch the games of this infant Carnival 
which comes to an end only when the children are 
forced away by fatigue to the point of exhaustion, or 
by parental order." 

When the games proved too hard a test for the grass 
on the Capitol terraces, Congress stopped the practice, 
and the President opened the slope back of the White 



64 EASTER 

House. No grown person is admitted unless accom- 
panied by a child, but even under this restriction the 
annual crowd is great enough to threaten the survival 
of the event. 



II 

SPIRIT AND SIGNIFICANCE 



RELIGION IN RUSSIA TO.DAY 

BY JAMES Y. SIMPSON 

... If now the question be asked, How is this re- 
ligious consciousness expressing itself in Russia to-day? 
I do not think that the answer will be found to differ 
so very much from the kind of answer that could be 
truly given in connection with our own England. The 
religious life of Russia has assuredly been deepened 
by the war. Men are face to face with the realities 
of life and death in a degree that compels them to 
think. The needs of the hour are driving men and 
women to pray. Far more people are seen in the 
churches. I recollect in particular a service in the 
Temple of the Redeemer in Moscow, one of the most 
beautiful churches in all Russia. It is a church of the 
people, and was crowded. What impressed me was the 
very large number of men, particularly of wounded 
soldiers. They must have outnumbered the women 
worshipers by nearly ten to one, and it was just an 
ordinary service. Then again there has been a re- 
markable development of interest in the consideration 
of religious questions. Public lectures have been given 
by men like Professor Prince Eugene Trubetzkoy, 
Professor Bulgakoff, and Nikolai Berdyaev dealing 
with various aspects of the political and spiritual pres- 
ent and future of Russia : for the two are one there in 

67 



68 EASTER 

a degree in which that is true of no other country in 
the world. These lectures have been attended by- 
crowded audiences, and listened to with an almost 
strained interest. The demand for religious literature 
has also greatly increased, although it is mainly satis- 
fied by the sale of the older Russian classics. Yet in 
one quarter I learned that " the translation of a book 
called The Ideal Life, by a Mr. Henry Drummond," 
was especially treasured by those who knew it. Re- 
ligious conversation has also become much more fre- 
quent and natural in drawing-room and trench alike. 
Such subjects were never very far at any time from the 
speculative, questing Russian mind: to-day it is no 
exaggeration to say that they dominate it. Have we a 
minister of state who, in discussing the future of a city 
which was the cradle of Christianity to his people, and 
therefore regarded with quite a peculiar longing by 
them, would or could say, " We are a religious people, 
and I believe that in our branch of the Greek Church 
there has been preserved a real religious life, whereas 
the other branches of the Greek Church have become 
somwhat barren and dogmatic, content with that ex- 
ternal crust of things which has been very much for the 
Greek Church what the Latin theology has been for 
the Church of the West " ? or in discussing the future 
of a country would say, as part of his political point of 
view, "Russia does not want Palestine for herself. 
Such an attitude is really distinctive of Russia. She 
could not be imagined as wanting it for herself. 
Christ's redemption is for all the world " ? Similarly, 
at the other end of the social scale, religious and 



RELIGION IN RUSSIA TO-DAY 69 

political thought blend in the peasant mind, with the 
former element as the determinative one, nor do I know 
any more exquisite expression of the fact than in an 
incident related by Prince Trubetzkoy in one of the 
lectures referred to above. It opens avowedly with a 
discussion of what Constantinople as expressed in the 
Church of St. Sophia has meant and means to Russia, 
but passes quickly into the larger thought of what 
Sophia, the wisdom of God in His purpose of the 
redemption of humanity, has meant to the world. The 
whole theme is developed with the haunting mysticism 
of the Russian mind, and his endeavor is to show how 
this thought of the salvation of the world through the 
power of Christ is, as it always has been, close to the 
heart of the Russian people. " It is no matter for sur- 
prise," he says — and this poor translation can give 
little impression of the beauty of the original, — " it is 
no matter for surprise that the soul of our people was 
from the earliest times united to the idea of St. Sophia 
with the greatest hope and with the greatest joy, and 
it would be vain to think that the deepest sense of 
this idea can be understood only by intelligent and 
educated people. On the contrary, for the very highly 
educated this idea is especially hard to understand: it 
is much nearer to the life-understanding of our people. 
As proof of this take the following personal reminis- 
cence. Four years ago I returned to Russia from a 
long foreign journey through Constantinople. In the 
morning in the mosque of St. Sophia they showed me 
on the wall the imprint of the bloody hand of the Sultan 
who spilled the Christian blood in this greatest of the 



70 EASTER 

orthodox cathedrals on the very day of the taking of 
Constantinople. Having killed the worshipers who 
came there for safety, he wiped his hand on the column, 
and this bloody imprint is shown there still. Immedi- 
ately after this visit I went on board a Russian 
steamer going to Odessa from Palestine, and at once 
found myself in a familiar atmosphere. On the deck 
there was gathered a very large group of Russian peas- 
ants — pilgrims returning from the Holy Land to 
their homes. Tired with the long journey, badly 
dressed and hungry, they were drinking water with 
hard bread, they were finishing their simple everyday 
toilet, they were listening, reclining, to tales about Con- 
stantinople. They were listening to tales about its 
churches and, of course, about the bloody Sultan and 
about the streams of Christian blood which, during 
more than five centuries, periodically were spilled in 
this once Christian kingdom. I cannot convey to you 
how deeply I was moved by what I saw. I saw my 
own country in Constantinople. There on the moun- 
tain had just disappeared the Holy Sophia lighted by 
the sun, and here before me on the deck was a real 
Russian village; and at the moment when our boat 
gently moved along the Bosphorus with its mosques 
and minarets, the whole crowd firmly and solemnly 
but, I do not know why, in a subdued voice, sang 
' Christ is Risen ' (i.e. the Easter hymn of the Greek 
Church). How deep and long-developed was the 
instinct which I heard in this singing, and how much 
of soul understanding there was in it! What other 
answer could they find in their souls but this to what 



RELIGION IN RUSSIA TO-DAY 71 

they heard about the cathedral, about the Turks who 
defiled it, and of the long-continued persecutions of 
the nation over whom they ruled ? What other answer 
could they find in their souls in such a country, except 
this, except their joy in the thought of a common 
resurrection for all people and for all nations? I do 
not know whether they understood their answer. For 
me it is unimportant whether the peasants thought or 
not about the cathedral itself — it is of Holy Sophia 
that they were singing. It is important that in their 
singing the real Sophia was understood so as no single 
philosopher or theologian could express it. The 
peasants who sang * Christ is Risen ' could scarcely in- 
terpret very well what they understood. But in their 
religious feeling there was far more than any deep 
understanding. They understood the ferocious Turk- 
ish power under which the blood of persecuted peoples 
flowed: they saw (in their soul) the whole humanity 
joined in the joy of the Holy Resurrection, but at the 
same time they felt that they could not express this 
joy, this hope, which always lives in the soul of the 
people, now, in the center of the Turkish power, ex- 
cept with a subdued voice, because so long as this power 
exists and the temper produced by it, Sophia is still 
far from us; she is in a different sphere. But the 
time will come when heaven will descend to earth, and 
the eternal idea of humanity will be realized ; then this 
hymn will sound loud and powerful — this hymn which 
now you hear in a subdued tone. I think no other 
proof seems necessary that Sophia lives in the soul 
of our people. But in order to see and to feel her 



72 EASTER 

reality, it is necessary to experience that which these 
peasants on the steamer felt, and about which they 
sang." 

Is it at all remarkable that amongst such a people 
there should be signs of a great religious awakening, 
none the less wonderful that it is going on so quietly 
that perhaps as yet the mass of the people know little 
about it? One of the Foreign Bible Societies has dis- 
tributed over three and a half million portions and 
gospels amongst the soldiers since the beginning of the 
war. They were sent by the Imperial supply trains 
to the front, and on the opening page may be found 
the following inscription : " This book is given by His 
Imperial Highness the Tzarevitch Alexis Nikolaevitch, 
presented by a Sunday School scholar in America. ,, 
Already those who have concerned themselves with 
the organization and direction of this distribution have 
become aware of its issue in a movement which is ul- 
timately due, as one of them said to me, " to no human 
means : it is nothing less than the Spirit of God mov- 
ing amongst the people." Through letters from the 
soldiers they learn how in a hospital one has taught his 
fellows to sing a grace before meals, whilst in a trench 
the others have gathered round the only member of 
their company who happened to get an Evangile, and 
he reads aloud to them. Yet I do not wish to give 
any one-sided impression. There is no assemblage in 
any country to-day, whether camp or commune, where 
the words of the prophet are not as true as when they 
were written : " Many shall purify themselves, and 
make themselves white, and be refined : but the wicked 



THE BOY AND JHE ANGEL 73 

shall do wickedly: and none of the wicked shall un- 
derstand : but they that be wise shall understand." 



EASTER MORNING 

BY EDMUND SPENSER 

Most glorious Lord of life, that on this day 

Didst make thy triumph over death and sin, 

And, having harrowed hell, didst bring away 

Captivity thence captive, us to win; 

This joyous day, dear Lord, with joy begin, 

And grant that we, for whom thou diddest die, 

Being with Thy dear blood clean washed from sin, 

May live forever in felicity : 

And that Thy love we weighing worthily, 

May likewise love Thee for the same again: 

And for Thy sake, that all like dear didst buy, 

With love may one another entertain. 

So let us love, dear love, like as we ought ; 

Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught. 

THE BOY AND THE ANGEL 

BY ROBERT BROWNING 

Morning, evening, noon, and night, 
"Praise God!" sang Theocrite. 

Then to his poor trade he turned, 
Whereby the daily meal was earned. 



74 EASTER 

Hard he labored, long and well; 
O'er his work the boy's curls fell. 

But ever, at each period, 

He stopped and sang, " Praise God ! " 

Then back again his curls he threw, 
And cheerful turned to work anew. 

Said Blaise, the listening monk, "Well done;" 
I doubt not thou art heard my son : 

" As well as if thy voice to-day 

Were praising God, the Pope's great way. 

" This Easter Day, the Pope at Rome 
Praises God from Peter's dome." 

Said Theocrite, " Would God that I 

Might praise him that great way, and die ! " 

Night passed, day shone, 
And Theocrite was gone. 

With God a day endures alway, 
A thousand years are but a day. 

God said in heaven, "Nor day nor night 
Now brings the voice of my delight." 

Then Gabriel, like a rainbow's birth, 
Spread his wings and sank to earth ; 



THE BOY AND THE ANGEL 75 

Entered, in flesh, the empty cell, 

Lived there, and played the craftsman well; 

And morning, evening, noon and night, 
Praised God in place of Theocrite. 

And from a boy to youth he grew : 
The man put off the stripling's hue : 

The man matured and fell away 
Into the season of decay: 

And ever o'er the trade he bent, 
And ever lived on earth content. 

(He did God's will; to him, all one 
If on the earth or in the sun.) 

God said, " A praise is in mine ear ; 
There is no doubt in it, no fear : 

" So sing old worlds, and so 

New worlds that from my footstool go. 

" Clearer loves sound other ways : 
I miss my little human praise." 

Then forth sprang Gabriel's wings, off fell 
The flesh disguise, remained the cell. 

'Twas Easter Day: he flew to Rome, 
And paused above Saint Peter's dome. 



76 EASTER 

In the tiring-room close by 
The greater outer gallery, 

With his holy vestments, dight, 
Stood the new Pope, Theocrite: 

And all his past career 
Came back upon him clear, 

Since when, a boy, he plied his trade, 
Till on his life the sickness weighed ; 

And in his cell, when death drew near, 
An angel in a dream brought cheer : 

And rising from the sickness drear, 
He grew a priest, and now stood here. 

To the East with praise he turned, 
And on his sight the angel burned. 

" I bore thee from thy craftsman's cell, 
I set thee here; I did not well. 

" Vainly I left my angel-sphere, 
Vain was thy dream of many a year. 

"Thy voice's praise seemed weak; it dropped- 
Creation's chorus stopped! 

" Go back and praise again 
The early way while I remain, 



WHILE IT WAS YET DARK 77 

" With that weak voice of our disdain, 
Take up creation's pausing strain. 

Back to the cell and poor employ: 
Resume the craftsman and the boy ! " 

Theocrite grew old at home ; 
Gabriel dwelt in Peter's dome. 

One vanished as the other died : 
They sought God side by side. 



WHILE IT WAS YET DARK* 

BY CHARLES E. HESSELGRAVE 

Amid the confusion of the early records which tell 
about the great event which Easter celebrates one thing 
stands out very clear. No human eye saw the resur- 
rection of Jesus or watched the inscrutable process. 
The Christian witnesses bore testimony only to the ac- 
complished fact. The change from death to life cul- 
minated in the obscurity of the tomb. " While it was 
yet dark," there came, according to the most philo- 
sophical of the Gospels, anxious watchers who found 
the transformation already complete and the tomb 
empty. The darkness which shrouded the event isi 
paralleled by the confusion and uncertainty of the con- 
flicting testimony that has reached us. In fact the 
whole course of Christian beginnings lies shrouded in 

I *By permission of Charles E. Hesselgrave and The Inde-i 
'pendent. 



78 EASTER 

the mystery of indefiniteness and the shadows of the 
unknown. 

But all great beginnings are thus conditioned and 
surrounded. Man becomes conscious of the result long 
after the causes have apparently ceased to operate. He 
sees the product after the early stages of the process 
have receded into the dim past. Only the scantiest re- 
mains mark the pathway of early developments, and 
the highest intelligence is necessary to descry the scraps 
of evidence and by comparison and imagination recon- 
struct the methods and movements of these living 
forces. 

Nestled in the darkness of mother earth the seed 
takes on the new life which is first observed springing 
in vigor from the soil. Out of the mothering womb of 
time has come forth the human race through its vari- 
ous stages, progressing through barbarism, primitive 
civilization, and the historic era. 

Since man began to think upon the past he has 
evolved unnumbered theories of his beginning, and 
still to the most instructed the early stages in each 
onward course of development must be approached 
through a twilight that ends in darkness. The rude 
beginnings of his culture are buried beneath the rub- 
bish heaps of time. The institutions of religion, home 
and government we know only in their higher forms. 
Language, art and thought can be studied in their mon- 
uments alone. The keenest and most critical investiga- 
tions have only partially revealed the successive steps 
of Hebraism and the founding of Christianity. Those 
centuries in which directive forces were forming the 



WHILE IT WAS YET DARK 79 

incipient movements which have culminated in what we 
call western civilization are often termed the Dark 
Ages. On the whole we must conclude that the great 
forces operating in society and in life conceal their 
most significant phases, those phases which carry the 
greatest import for the future, from the contemporary 
eyes of men. We cannot " look into the seeds of time, 
and say which grain will grow and which will not." 
While it is yet dark the great movements of the future 
are being planned and the first steps toward the realiza- 
tion of the plans are being taken. 

Around us at this Easter time the darkness and con- 
fusion of human affairs are almost beyond parallel. A 
crisis in history has, no doubt, been reached. We seem 
to see not only the disruption of international and na- 
tional life, but the clashing ideals of races, the spread 
and deepening of hatred and strife, the failure of hu- 
man capacity for organization to hold in check the ele- 
mental passions and aspirations of mankind, and even 
the breakdown of Christianity itself. 

Nevertheless, the seeds of a new and grander future 
have doubtless been already sown. The ways of na- 
ture and human development lead us to expect that this 
is so. Life is positive, death is negative. The 
breakup and sloughing off of the old and outworn may 
appear as the darkness of dissolution, but the stirrings 
of a new life to result in a higher order are scarcely to 
be apprehended until the growth directed by the Unseen 
Mind has brought some reorganization out of the old 
chaos. " Out of the cradle endlessly rocking " come 
the strength and wisdom that shape and advance the 



80 EASTER 

world's destinies. The patient, brooding spirit of man, 
inspired by hope and faith in the Divine Order, will 
yet bring to power and dominion the living principles 
of international brotherhood and service now obscured 
in the bitterness and darkness of war and racial strife. 
Future generations will surely say: "While it was 
yet dark" we discerned the birth throes of a new 
world order. 

AN EASTER SONG 

BY SUSAN COOLIDGE 

A song of sunshine through the rain, 

Of spring across the snow, 
A balm to heal the hurts of pain, 

A peace surpassing woe. 
Lift up your heads, ye sorrowing ones, 

And be ye glad of heart, 
For Calvary and Easter Day, 
Earth's saddest day and gladdest day, 

Were just one day apart ! 

With shudder of despair and loss 

The world's deep heart was wrung, 
As lifted high upon his cross 

The Lord of Glory hung, 
When rocks were rent, ghostly forms 

Stole forth in street and mart ; 
But Calvary and Easter day, 
Earth's blackest day and whitest day, 

Were just one day apart ! 



EASTER WINGS 81 

No hint or whisper stirred the air 

To tell what joy should be; 
The sad disciples, grieving there, 

Nor help nor hope could see. 
Yet all the while the glad, near sun 

Made ready its swift dart, 
And Calvary and Easter Day, 
The darkest day and brightest day, 

Were just one day apart ! 

Oh, when the strife of tongues is loud, 
And the heart of hope beats low, 

When the prophets prophesy of ill, 
And the mourners come and go, 

In this sure thought let us abide, 
And keep and stay our heart — 

That Calvary and Easter Day 

Earth's heaviest day and happiest day, 
{ Were but one day apart ! 



EASTER WINGS 

BY GEORGE HERBERT 

LORD, WHO CREATEST MAN IN WEALTH AND STORE, 

THOUGH FOOLISHLY HE LOST THE SAME, 

DECAYING MORE AND MORE, 

TILL HE BECAME 

MOST POOR. 



82 EASTER 

WITH THEE 

OH LET ME RISE 

AS LARKS, HARMONIOUSLY, 

AND SING THIS DAY THY VICTORIES: 

THEN SHALL THE FALL FURTHER THE FLIGHT IN ME. 

MY TENDER AGE IN SORROW DID BEGIN: 

AND STILL WITH SICKNESS AND SHAME 

THOU DIDST SO PUNISH SIN, 

THAT I BECAME 

MOST THIN. 

WITH THEE 

LET ME COMBINE, 

AND FEEL THIS DAY THY VICTORY 

FOR IF I IMP MY WING ON THINE, 

AFFLICTION SHALL ADVANCE THE FLIGHT IN ME. 



[ AN EASTER GREETING TO EVERY CHILD 
WHO LOVES "Alice"* 

(SUPPLEMENT TO ALICE IN WONDERLAND) 

Dear Child: 

- Please to fancy, if you can, that you are reading a 
real letter, from a real friend whom you have seen, 
and whose voice you can seem to yourself to hear, 

* By permission of Harper & Brothers. Copyright 1901 by 
Harper & Brothers. All rights reserved. October, 1901. 



AN EASTER GREETING 83 

wishing you, as I do now with all my heart, a happy 
Easter. 

Do you know that delicious, dreamy feeling, when 
one first wakes on a summer morning, with the twitter 
of birds in the air, and the fresh breeze coming in at 
the open window — when, lying lazily with eyes half 
shut, one sees as in a dream green boughs waving, or 
waters rippling in a golden light? It is a pleasure very 
near to sadness, bringing tears to one's eyes like a 
beautiful picture or poem. And is not that a mother's 
gentle hand that undraws your curtains, and a mother's 
sweet voice that summons you to rise? — to rise and 
forget, in the bright sunlight, the ugly dreams that 
frightened you so when all was dark — to rise and 
enjoy another happy day, first kneeling to thank that 
unseen Friend who sends you the beautiful sun? 

Are these strange words from a writer of such tales 
as Alice ? And is this a strange letter to find in a book 
of nonsense ? It may be so. Some perhaps may blame 
one for thus mixing together things grave and gay; 
others may smile and think it odd that any one should 
speak of solemn things at all, except in church and on 
Sunday; but I think — nay, I am sure — that some 
children will read this gently and lovingly, and in the 
spirit in which I have written it. 

For I do not believe God means us thus to divide life 
into two halves — to wear a grave face on Sunday, and 
to think it out of place to even so much as mention Him 
on a week-day. Do you think He cares to see only 
kneeling figures, and to hear only tones of prayer ; and 
that He does not also love to see the lambs leaping in 



84 EASTER 

the sunlight, and to hear the merry voices of the chil- 
dren as they roll among the hay? Surely their inno- 
cent laughter is as sweet in His ears as the grandest 
anthem that ever rolled up from the "dim, religious 
light" of some solemn cathedral. 

And if I have written anything to add to those stories 
of innocent and healthy amusement that are laid up in 
books for the children I love so well, it is surely some- 
thing I may hope to look back uppn without shame and 
sorrow (as how much of life must then be recalled!) 
when my turn comes to walk through the valley of 
shadows. 

This Easter sun will rise on you, dear child, feeling 
your " life in every limb," and eager to rush out into 
the fresh morning air — and many an Easter-day will 
come and go before it finds you feeble and gray-headed, 
creeping wearily out to bask once more in the sun- 
light; but it is good, even now, to think sometimes of 
that great morning when the " Sun of Righteousness 
t shall arise with healing in his wings." 
f Surely your gladness need not be less for the thought 
that you will one day see a brighter dawn than this — 
when lovelier sights will meet your eyes than any wav- 
ing trees or rippling waters — when angel hands shall 
undraw your curtains, and sweeter tones than ever 
loving mother breathed shall wake you to a new and 
glorious day — and when all the sadness and the sin 
that darkened this life on this little earth shall be for- 
gotten like the dreams of a night that is past ! 
Your affectionate friend, 

Easter, 1876. Lewis Carroll. 



THE EASTER MESSAGE 85 



THE EASTER MESSAGE* 

BY CHARLES E. HESSELGRAVE 

Less than a century ago there were growing up in 
some of the cultured Christian homes of New England 
many children who later realized with regret that dur- 
ing their childhood days they had never known the 
symbolism or ever heard the name of Easten Yet no 
more significant, spontaneous, or universally attrac- 
tive festival has ever been instituted than that which 
celebrates the return of spring, the budding of leaves 
and flowers, and the triumphant hope that eternally 
beckons forward the human race. 

Older than Christianity and deeply rooted in the love 
of life itself, the spirit of Easter finds its most perfect 
expression in the Resurrection story of Jesus. There 
is, indeed, good cheer in the sight of flowers lifting 
their faces once more toward the sunlight, after the 
frosts and storms of winter have spent their force. 
The swelling seeds and changing tints of green give 
promise of the coming harvests and assure us of na- 
ture's ready response to our physical needs. The songs 
of the birds and the humming of the bees remind us 
of the rising tide of life that surrounds us and through 
countless channels is rushing onward with the pulse 
beat of recurring years. In all this stir of creative 
energy, this bursting of winter's fetters and the re- 
newal of life's struggle for undisputed supremacy, we 

* By permission of The Independent and Charles E. Hessel- 
grave. 



86 EASTER 

feel a kindling interest and secret joy, whicK carry us 
outside the old limitations and broaden the horizons of 
our purposes and hopes. 

But did the springtime come and go with no other 
message of inspiration, the world of mankind would 
grow old and weary and discouraged with its toil and 
disappointment, its wasting wars and ceaseless oppres- 
sions, its heroic attempts and saddening failures, and 
the oft recurring sight of its shining ideals cast to the 
earth and trampled upon by the gross feet of selfish- 
ness and indifference. Humanity knows but too well 
its own weakness and defects. Memory as well as 
science reminds us that one spring is like another, that 
man's life too is but a coming and a going, as the bud- 
ding spring bursts into summer and comes at last to 
rest beneath winter's snow. But Easter adds the ever- 
lasting crown to man's hope and inspiration in the 
Resurrection story. Therein we pass from intimations 
of nature into the realm of human struggle and as- 
piration where the organizing forces of life surge to 
and fro with tragic consequence and man more often 
questions the worth of the final result. 

Back to the Gospel source go those whose faith in 
human possibilities and courage for unmeasured tasks 
must needs be renewed in some lif egiving stream. Not 
only in the buds and blossoms may we see the victory 
of life, but also in the story of Calvary and the Gar- 
den, where we find goodness and righteousness eter- 
nally triumphant over villainy and injustice, non-re- 
sistence over aggression,, humility over pride, holiness 
over sin, love over hate. We are assured that though 



JHE CRESCENT AND THE CROSS 87 

evil may hold the reins for a season, dominion and 
power belong ultimately to justice and right. How- 
ever complete may be the temporary defeat of truth, 
error shall not always abide. 

Easter proclaims that man shall overcome all his^ 
foes, including death itself. His pathway may lead 
him through the sorrows of Gethsemane, the pain and 
darkness of Calvary, nevertheless his winter of dis- 
tress will yet turn to the spring of delight, defeat will 
be forgotten in the joy of final victory, and the life of 
the spirit will rise in glory from the shadows of the 
grave. 



THE CRESCENT AND THE CROSS 

BY THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH 

Kind was my friend who, in the Eastern land, 
Remembered me with such a gracious hand, 
And sent this Moorish Crescent, which has been 
Worn on the haughty bosom of a queen. 

No more it sinks and rises in unrest 
To the soft music of her heathen breast ; 
No barbarous chief shall bow before it more, 
No turban'd slave shall envy and adore. 

I place beside this relic of the Sun 

A Cross of cedar brought from Lebanon, 

Once borne, perchance, by some pale monk who trod 

L The desert to Jerusalem — and his God ! 



88 EASTER 

Here do they lie, two symbols of two creeds, 
Each meaning something to our human needs ; 
Both stained with blood, and sacred made by faith, 
By tears and prayers, and martyrdom and death. 

That for the Moslem is, but this for me ! 
The waning Crescent lacks divinity : 
It gives me dreams of battles, and the woes 
Of women shut in dim seraglios. 

But when this Cross of simple wood I see, 
The Star of Bethlehem shines again for me, 
And glorious visions break upon my gloom — 
The patient Christ, and Mary at the tomb. 



DAY DAWN — A QUIET TALK ON EASTER* 

BY S. D. GORDON 

Out of the east comes new light after the darkness of 
night. And we call it morning. Out of the Easter 
morning came a wondrous new light — the light of life 
— after the darkness of sin's night. And it has been 
the first gleam of a morning, the morning of a new 
day, for all men. 

Contrasts make things stand out. Black touching 
white seems blacker, and the white looks whiter. Sor- 
row makes joy seem gladder. Joy makes sorrow seem 
sadder. The deeper the sorrow, the greater is the 
uplift of joy following, after the first daze is over. 

*By permission of The Congregationalist 



A QUIET TALK ON EASTER 89 

A NIGHT OF DEATH 

That first Easter morning stood in sharpest contrast 
with what went before. The greatest possible contrast 
is between life and death. All sorrow and darkness 
and heaviness brood in the black word — death. All 
gladness and brightness and lightness gather up at their 
best in that lightsome word — life. 

The Saturday before Easter was filled with deepest 
gloom. While Jesus still hung on the cross, there was 
hope. While life remained there was a sort of expec- 
tancy that he might yet do something startling. His 
short life had been full of things that startled men. 
Surely he is allowing all this shameful treatment that 
he may do something to completely offset it. But now 
that last straggling, struggling hope has gone quite out. 
The life is out of his body. The body is in the sealed- 
up tomb. What a long day that Saturday was ! The 
longest, darkest, saddest the human heart has known, i 
Those hearts had been lifted to the highest pitch ever 
experienced. And the depression is as deep down as 
the other was high up. 

That night his disciples slept the heavy sleep of dis- 
appointed men, with sore hearts at their sorest. But 
while they slept something was taking place. The 
darkest hour was bringing forth brightest light, though 
they didn't know it. Jesus is always doing more for us 
than we know. The day always begins a bit earlier 
than we realize. Night goes sooner than we think. 
While they slept, Jesus rose. Up through the wrapping 
cloths, up through the solid rock of the new hewn tomb 



90 EASTER 

Jesus rose. Hate's work was undone. Sin's worst 
was worsted. The tomb became a birthplace, the birth- 
place of a new life, a new sort of life. Out of death 
came forth life. Out of the place of darkest hate 
shone tenderest love. Out of the poison-house of sin 
came sweetest purity. Out of what seemed the defeat 
of Jesus, came the wondrous victory of God. 

Then the angels came in garments of light, and rolled 
away the stone, and did guard only over the tomb that 
all comers might plainly see that Jesus was no longer 
there, but had risen. 

A MORNING OF LIFE 

Then it was morning, a new morning, whose newness 
has never lost its dewy freshness, the world's new 
morning. But the light that came was too bright for 
the eyes it met. It dazzled. Eyes long steeped in 
darkness were stupefied by it, dazed, until they got used 
to it. But its overwhelming brilliance gave a certainty 
that was beyond question. These disciples and women 
are like children suddenly roused up out of sound sleep 
by an intense light shining directly into their faces. 
They blink and stagger, and talk in jerky sentences 
until they become measurably used to the fact that 
Jesus has indeed risen. Though the wonder of it, they 
never do get used to. But they quickly find their feet, 
and go steadily on, amidst bitterest opposition and sorest 
persecution. That light still shining in their faces, 
holds them steady through all the days. 

Nobody ever was so completely taken by surprise as 
were these disciples of Jesus. This of itself is tre- 



A QUIET TALK ON EASTER 91 

mendous evidence. Their conduct those first few days 
makes the best book on Christian evidences ever penned. 
Their utter lack of expectation, their startled surprise, 
their apparent inability to believe what had actually 
occurred, the stubborn doubter holding obstinately out 
for eight days — then, homely, plain facts that com- 
pletely removed all of this, and swept the last ques- 
tioner in. 

Mary knew, not only by the voice repeating her 
name, and by the presence at first mistaken for a 
gardener, but by being given something to do. That 
was satisfying evidence to her. The Master was act- 
ing in his old way. The women knew by the feel of 
their fingers upon his feet, and the sound of that never- 
to-be-mistaken voice. Peter knew when, all alone, the 
eyes that drew the bitter tears in the courtyard, now 
looked again into his. You could not befool Peter 
about those eyes. The Emmaus couple knew by the 
wondrous talking, by their burning hearts, but the man 
sitting at the same table, the broken loaf in their hands, 
and that suddenly recognized face. The upper-room 
company knew by the fish being taken, and the bit of 
barley loaf — could there be homelier, saner, simpler 
evidence? The cautious, square-jawed Thomas knew 
by the feel of those scarred hands, and the rude-edged 
hole in the side, and his jaw relaxed into a glad, wor- 
shipful recognition of Jesus, his Lord, and his God. 
Long after, the studious, keenly trained schoolman of 
Tarsus knew by the blinding light, and the quiet, pene- 
trating voice, that completely reversed the high-pressure 
engine of his career. 



92 EASTER 

THE GOSPEL OF THE BODY 

Jesus' resurrection was a real thing. It was a rising 
up of His body out of death. Of course it must have 
been that, for resurrection is only of the body. Resur- 
rection is a body word. It cannot be properly used 
directly except of the body. Other use is rhetori- 
cal, figurative and secondary. The spirit of Jesus 
was not killed nor buried. That which went down, 
came up again. Resurrection is a truth regarding the 
body. 

A man's body distinguishes him from the higher 
orders. It is a sacred thing. It is his personality in 
tangible shape. It comes to be the. mold of his spirit. 
It is his biography. Every man carries about with him 
his life-story, from birth to death. Though few are 
skilled in reading it, and none read it fully. His body 
is the home-spot of his spirit. It is a bit of himself, 
his identity. So we know the man. 

The body bears the brunt of the pain that comes 
through the breaks in the natural rhythm made by the 
man living in it. It becomes his scape-goat. It takes 
much of the punishment that sin brings. It is to share 
the joy of release from sin, and sin's results. Our 
bodies are precious to us. They are precious to our 
loved ones. In them we have lived, on them we have 
leaned, with them we have companioned, through them 
we have given expression to all our loves and fears. 
They are a part of us. We will not be less in the 
upper, future life than we have been here, but more. 
We have sadly ignored and abused our bodies. That 



A QUIET TALK ON EASTER 93 

is only bad. Some holy men have seemed to think 
lightly of the body as though a mean thing, or tempor- 
ary. That too is bad. The resurrection teaches us 
the worth, the dignity, the sacredness of our bodies. 
It is through bodily functions that we come into life. 
It is our bodies coming into being that permits us to 
come into being. At the touch of God, the new spirit 
comes into being in a body prepared, slowly, carefully, 
usually painfully, prepared for it. We should love our 
bodies, study them, care for them, train them, hold them 
true to their great service of ministering to the spirit 
within. They should be kept pure and sweet and 
sound. It is their due, and the due of the two great 
spirits living in them. They are temples of our spirits, 
and of the Spirit of God. The resurrection is the gos- 
pel of the body. Thereby Jesus tells us to reverence 
our bodies. 

WE SHALL ALL BE CHANGED 

But mark keenly that Jesus' body was changed in the 
resurrection. It was a change for the better. It was 
lifted to a higher plane of life. It became superior to 
what it had been. We are apt, in thinking of the diffi- 
culties of our own resurrection, to keep thinking of the 
body as we know it. But it will be a changed body. 
With Jesus the limitations were gone. His body had 
been limited as is ours. It needed food and rest, air 
and exercise. It could work only so long; then came 
fatigue. He got from place to place by effort, walking, 
or combining his thought and skill and work with na- 
ture, as sailing a boat or riding a donkey. He entered 



94 EASTER 

a building through openings made for the purpose. 
When the new life came, the resurrection life, these 
limitations are gone. He is free of the need of food 
and rest. All tiredness is gone. He goes as quickly 
and easily from place to place as thought can travel. 
He was free of material obstructions such as walls, 
going where he would by willing to be there. 

The resurrection of Jesus was a natural result of his 
life of perfect obedience to the will of God. It was the 
next stage up of his perfect life. Perhaps these bodily 
limitations simply belong to an apprenticeship period of 
life. They may be the scaffolding while the life is 
building. They may belong to the earlier stage of life. 
(The resurrection conditions found in Jesus belong to 
the next higher stage. 

i But there are changes for us in addition to these that 
Jesus experienced. We shall know the change he 
knew. We are assured of that. But there is more for 
us. Because there has been more in us, namely sin, 
there is more for us. Jesus knew one change from the 
life before death to a new sort of life after resurrec- 
tion. We shall know two changes. This that he knew, 
and also a change reversing sin's changes. Our bodies 
have been changed by sin, as his was not. These 
changes made by sin shall be changed back, and up. 
It will be a refurn to first conditions. Man's body has 
known bad changes through sin. It will know blessed 
changes through the removal of sin. Pain, sickness, 
weakness, immaturity, stunted growth, liability to death 
— these Jesus never knew in his own person. They are 
sin's work. They will be removed. We shall all be 



A QUIET TALK ON EASTER 95 

changed, and shall be all changed through and through. 
We shall be like him. 

THE WORLD'S SPRINGTIME 

Easter comes from East. The one word gives the 
other. East means the dawn. The original festival 
of Easter celebrated the spring, the new dawn of the 
year, and of the earth's life. It is a happy borrowing 
of a word from our brothers of the earlier ages. 
Jesus' rising is an Easter, a dawn, the dawn of day for 
man, and for the earth. 

Easter spells out beauty, the rare beauty of new life. 
Is life ever so sweet and beautiful as when it comes up 
new and fresh in the spring? The green has a fairer 
hue, the flower a softer, deeper coloring, the air a new 
balmy freshness and the dew a sweeter fragrance. 
Jesus' rising was the beginning of the world's spring- 
time. But it seems to be a slow spring, late in open- 
ing up, a retarded spring, held back by some hard 
frosts, and rough winter storms. But the sun is com- 
ing nearer all the while. It will be warmer soon. 
Winter will all go. 

When Jesus comes again the frosts will go. Then 
comes in fully the world's new spring of life, and then 
the summer full-fruits. The church is not agreed 
about when that will be and some see it* a long way off, 
as a sort of great celebration after great victory. 
Some of us think he may come in any generation, and 
his coming bring the great victory. But all are prac- 
tically agreed that he is to come. When he comes — 
nobody knows when — then comes the full-fruits of 



96 EASTER 

the harvest of life. His coming means release for us up 
into the resurrection life. It means reunion with those 
who have slipped from our grasp. They will come 
back when he comes back. They come with him. A 
wondrous spring morning that ! 

" And in the morn those angel faces smile, 
Which I have loved long since, 
And lost awhile." 

And the thought makes the heart beat faster, as it 
fervently repeats John's Patmos prayer, " Come, Lord 
Jesus.*' 

When it is a bit dark with you, may be a good bit, a 
deep biting bit of dark, cheer up, there's a dawn com- 
ing. When it is winter in your life, snowbound, ice- 
bound, frozen up and frozen in, pull out the full organ 
istop of your soul ahd let the music out, for there's a 
spring coming. And in its wonder the winter will be 
sheer forgot. Jesus' springtime of a new life seems 
to be about due. It may be in your heart now, in your 
life, like the first crocus up through the snow. It is to 
be in all the earth. Let us live with our faces turned 
toward the rising sun — the risen Son. 



WOMAN'S EASTER* 

BY LUCY LARCOM 

With Mary, ere dawn in the garden, 
I stand at the tomb of the Lord; 

*By permission pf Houghton Mifflin Co, 



WOMAN'S EASTER 97 

I share in her sorrowing wonder ; 

I hear through the darkness a word, — 
The first the dear Master hath spoken, 
Since the awful death stillness was broken. 

He calleth her tenderly,—" Mary " ! 

Sweet, sweet is His voice in the gloom. 
He spake to us first, oh my sisters, 

So breathing our lives into bloom ! 
He lifteth our souls out of prison ! 
We, earliest, saw Him arisen ! 

He lives ! Read you not the glad tidings 
In our eyes, that have gazed into His ? 

He lives ! By His light on our faces 
Believe it, and come where He is ! 

O doubter, and you who denied Him, 

Return to your places beside Him ! 

The message of His resurrection 

To man it was woman's to give : 
It is fresh in her heart through the ages : 

" He lives, that ye also may live, 
Unfolding, as He hath the story 
Of manhood's attainable glory/' 

O Sun, on our souls first arisen, 

Give us light for the spirits that grope ! 

Make us loving and steadfast and loyal 
To bear up humanity's hope ! 

O Friend, who forsakest us never, 

Breathe through us thy errands forever ! 



98 EASTER 

EASTER MORNING* 

BY FRANCIS L. MACE 



Ostera ! spirit of spring-time, 

Awake from thy slumbers deep ! 
Arise! and with hands that are glowing 

Put off the white garments of sleep ! 
Make thyself fair, O goddess ! 

In new and resplendent array, 
For the footsteps of Him who has risen 

Shall be heard in the dawn of day. 

Flushes the trailing arbutus 

Low under the forest leaves — 
A sign that the drowsy goddess 

The breath of her Lord perceives. 
While He suffered, her pulse beat numbly; 

While He slept, she was still with pain, 
But now He awakes — He has risen — 

Her beauty shall bloom again. 

O hark ! in the budding woodlands, 

Now far, now near, is heard 
The first prelusive warble 

Of rivulet and of bird. 
O listen ! the Jubilate 

From every bough is poured, 
And earth in the smile of spring-time 

Arises to greet her Lord! 

*By permission of Harper's Magazine. 



EASTER MORNING 99 

11 

Radiant goddess Aurora ! 

Open the chambers of dawn; 
Let the Hours like a garland of graces 

Enrich the chariot of morn. 
Thou dost herald no longer Apollo, 

The god of the sunbeam and lyre: 
The pride of his empire is ended, 

And pale is his armor of fire. 

From a loftier height than Olympus 

Light flows, from the Temple above, 
And the mists of old legends are scattered 

In the dawn of the Kingdom of Love. 
Come forth from the cloud-land of fable, 

For day in full splendor make room — 
For a triumph that lost not its glory 

As it paused in the sepulcher's gloom. 

She comes! the bright goddess of morning, 

In crimson and purple array; 
Far down on the hill-tops she tosses 

The first golden lilies of day. 
On the mountains her sandals are glowing, 

O'er the valleys she speeds on the wing, 
Till earth is all rosy and radiant 

For the feet of the new-risen King. 

Open the gates of the Temple ; 
Spread branches of palm and of bay; 



ioo EASTER 

Let not the spirits of nature 

Alone deck the Conqueror's way. 
While Spring from her death-sleep arises 

And joyous His presence awaits, 
While Morning's smile lights up the heavens, 

Open the Beautiful Gates! 

He is here ! The long watches are over, 

The stone from the grave rolled away. 
"We shall sleep," was the sigh of the midnight; 

" We shall rise ! " is the song of to-day. 
O Music! no longer lamenting, 

On pinions of tremulous flame 
Go soaring to meet the Beloved, 

And swell the new song of His fame ! 

The altar is snowy with blossoms, 

The font is a vase of perfume, 
On pillar and chancel are twining 

Fresh garlands of eloquent bloom. 
Christ is risen! with glad lips we utter, 

And far up the infinite height 
Archangels the paean reecho, 

And crown Him with Lilies of Light! 



SEEK THOSE THINGS 101 



SEEK THOSE THINGS WHICH ARE 
ABOVE * 

" Altior petamus, Christ o duce." 

BY WILLIAM NEWELL 

I saw the mountain oak with towering form 
Fall in his pride, the whirlwind's chosen prey, 

The lily of the vale outrode the storm, 
Shining the lovelier as it passed away. 

Friend, seek not happiness in high estate, 

To Mary's heart she flies from Herod's palace-gate. 

I marked a spendthrift moth, squalid and alone, 
With shivering wings; his summer flowers were 
dead: 
While the blithe bee, making their sweets her own, 

Sang in her home of honey, richly fed. 
Friend, seek not happiness in fleeting pleasure, 
In each good work of life the good God hides her 
treasure. 

Jeweled with morning dew, the new-blown rose 
Brings to the enamored eye her transient dower; 

The live sap still runs fresh, the sound root grows, 
When all forgotten fades the red-lipped flower. 

Friend, seek not happiness in the bloom of beauty, 

But in the soil of truth and steadfast life of duty. 

* By permission of Funk & Wagnalls Co. 



102 EASTER 

Lo! the red meteor startles with his blaze 
The gazing, awe-struck earth, and disappears; 

While yon true star, with soft undazzling rays, 
Shines in our sky through circling months and years. 

Friend, seek not happiness in worldly splendor, 

But in the light serene of home-joys, pure and tender. 

Power has its thorns; wealth may be joyless glitter; 

Belshazzar's feast grows dark with fear and sadness ; 
Friends die, — and beauty wanes, — and cares embitter 

The gilded cup; grief lurks behind our gladness. 
Then seek not happiness, in shows of earth, 
But learn of Christ betimes the secret of her birth. 

Child of the soul, twin-born with Faith and Love 
In the clear conscience and the generous heart, 

Twin-lived with them, with them she soars above 
The earthly names which man from man do part 

Seek thou God's Kingdom ; there unsought she's found, 

High in a heavenly life, not creeping on the ground. 

Hearts set on things above, not things beneath, 
Find what they crave around them day by day ; 

Souls risen with Christ, quick with his Spirit, breathe 
The air of heaven, e'en while on earth they stay. 

Bearing the cross, the hidden crown they bring, 

And at the tomb they hear the Easter angels sing. 



THE EASTER JOY 103 
THE EASTER JOY* 

BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER 

One day at noon during the latter part of Lent, in a 
cold winter, I found myself in the neighborhood of a 
church on Broadway, New York, where through open 
doors a stream of people were passing in to a little 
service. The invitation to leave the throng and bustle 
of the street and spend a quiet half-hour in a worship- 
ing assembly could not be resisted, and entering, I 
found myself one of a large congregation among whom 
were many men, and young and old women of all 
ranks, from ladies richly and fashionably attired to 
women whose clothing marked them as toilers, some 
of them very poor. It was a pleasant experience to 
join this sanctuary throng, and as I left the church, 
comforted and helped by the song, the prayers, the little 
sermon and the watchword chosen from the Bible, I 
felt glad hat Christians are more and more inclining 
their hearts to keep with special attention the services 
of Lent. 

I could not agree with an editorial which I read 
shortly after, in one of the daily papers, in which 
severe reflections were made on the declining piety of 
the Church of to-day. We live in a material age ; an 
age of fierce business competition ; a time when men 
struggle to amass money, when the contrasts between 
rich and poor are more sharply drawn than of old, 
when the besetting sin of the day is to bring matters 

* By permission of George M. Sangster. 



104 EASTER 

to the test of human reason rather than to go in faith 
to the mercy seat and accept what God gives us there. 
But I remember the text of that day : "I am the 
Lord, the God of all flesh : is there anything too hard 
for me?" I see pressing in with insistent energy upon 
the Church a great and increasing throng of young 
men and women, student volunteers, who are ready 
and willing to give themselves to serve the Lord in any 
land where he may want them. I am aware that there 
is a large and increasing army of men and women who 
quietly read their Bibles and earnestly pray, and I 
do not believe that the Church is losing its hold upon 
the world, nor that Christ is deserting his own people. 
After the forty days of Lent comes the dawn of the 
Easter morning. Once more with flowers and hymns 
of praise we enter our holy places ; once more we hear 
sounding over every open grave, and hushing every 
rebellious thought in our hearts and soothing every 
grief, the words of him who still says to every one of 
us, " I am the Resurrection and the Life ; he that be- 
lieveth in me, though he were dead yet shall he live/' 
Because our blessed Captain tasted death for every 
one of us, and himself took on his pale lips its utmost 
bitterness, the cup which the death angel holds to our 
lips is filled with the sweetness and flavor of everlast- 
ing life. This is the great joy of Easter. More and 
more, as we go on traveling the pilgrim road, we are 
conscious that it is but a road leading to another and 
an endless home. Along the road there are beautiful 
, surprises. Friendship is ours, and domestic bliss ; the 
dear love of kindred ; the sweetness of companionship ; 



THE EASTER JOY 105 

the delight of standing shoulder to shoulder with com- 
rades; the glory of service. But this is not our rest, 
and we are going on to that place where the beloved 
of the Lord shall dwell in safety by him and where 
they go no more out forever. 

Somehow Easter always carries with it more of 
heaven than any other of the great anniversaries of 
the Christian year. In its first bright dawn the 
heavens were opened and the angels came down to 
comfort the weeping women and the disciples, mourn- 
ing their Lord at the sepulcher, with those ecstatic 
words, " He is not here ; he is risen ! " It is more 
than fancy, it is a precious fact, that the angels still 
come back to console the mourner, to strengthen the 
doubting, and to give Christ's own people the blessed 
assurance that he is with them still. 

The festival of Easter comes to us at a propitious 
time, for lo, the winter is past; the rain is over and 
gone ; the flowers appear on the earth, the time of the 
singing of birds is come; and the voice of the turtle 
is heard in our land. Winter, with its rigor and cold, 
its ice and frost and inclement blasts, its tempests on 
land and sea, is an emblem of warfare ; its silence and 
sternness ally it to grief. Spring comes dancing and 
fluttering in with flowers and music and the blithe step 
of childhood. Her signs are evident before she is 
really here herself. First come the bluebirds, har- 
bingers of a host ; a little later there will be wrens and 
robins and orioles, and all the troop which make the 
woods musical and build sociably around our country 
homes. 



106 EASTER 

Then the flowers will come. Happy are they who 
shall watch their whole procession, from the pussy- 
willow in March to the last blue gentian in October. 
We decorate our churches at Easter with the finest 
spoils of the hot-house — lilies, roses, palms, azaleas; 
nothing is too costly, nothing too lavish to be brought 
to the sanctuary or carried to tfre cemetery. Friend 
sends to friend the fragrant bouquet or the growing 
plant with the same tender significance which is evinced 
in the Christmas gifts, which carry from one heart 
to another a sweet message of love. 

But God is giving us the Easter flowers in little 
hidden nooks in the forests, down by the corners of 
fences, in the sheltered places on the edges of the 
brook, and there we find the violet, the arbutus and 
other delicate blossoms which lead the van for the 
great army of nature's efflorescence. The first flowers 
are more delicately tinted and of shyer look and more 
ephemeral fragrance than those which come later. 
They are the Easter flowers. Later on we shall have 
millions of blossoms and more birds than we can count : 
now in the garden and the field we have enough to re- 
mind us that the winter is past, the rain is over and 
gone, the time of the singing of birds is come. 

If any of us have been grieving over our own lack, 
over our sinful departure from God or over the loss 
of dear ones, let us at Easter forget the past, put our 
hand in that of our risen Lord, accept the sweetness 
of his voice and the gladness of his presence as he 
comes into our homes, and say, thankfully, as we hear 
his "Peace be unto you:" "Lord, we are thine at 



EASTER 107 

this Easter time ; we give ourselves to thee in a fullness 
which we have never known before. We are thine. 
Thine to use as thou wilt; thine to fill with blessing; 
thine to own. Take us, Lord, and so possess us with 
thyself that our waste. places shall be glad, and the 
wilderness of our lives shall blossom as the rose." 
Such a prayer will find its way upward, and return to 
us in wonderful answers of blessing from the Lord. 



EASTER 

BY GEORGE HERBERT 

Rise, heart; thy Lord is risen. Sing his praise 

Without delays, 
Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewise 

With him may'st rise: 
That, as his death calcined thee to dust, 
His life may make thee gold, and much more, just. 

Awake, my lute, and struggle for thy part 

With all thy art. 
The cross taught all wood to resound his name 

Who bore the same. 
His stretched sinews taught all strings, what key 
Is best to celebrate this most high day. 

Consort both heart and lute, and twist a song 

Pleasant and long: 
Or since all music is but three parts vied, 

And multiplied ; 



108 EASTER 

O let thy blessed Spirit bear a part, 

And make up our defects with his sweet art. 

I got me flowers to strew thy way ; 

I got me boughs off many a tree : 

But thou wast up by break of day, 

And brought'st thy sweets along with thee. 

The Sun arising in the East, 

Though he give light, and th' East perfume ; 

If they should offer to contest 

With thy arising, they presume. 

Can there be any day but this, 
Though many suns to shine endeavor? 
We count three hundred, but we miss : 
There is but one, and that one ever. 



THE RESURRECTION, OR EASTER-DAY 

BY GEORGE HERBERT 

Up and away, 

Thy Saviour's gone before. 
Why dost thou stay, 

Dull soul? Behold, the door 
Is open, and his Precept bids thee rise, 
Whose power hath vanquished all thine enemies. 

Say not, I live, 

Whilst in the grave thou liest : 



RESURRECTION, OR EASTER-DAY 109 

He that doth give 

Thee life would have thee prize't 
More highly than to keep it buried, where 
Thou canst not make the fruits of it appear. 

Is rottenness, 

And dust so pleasant to thee, 
That happiness, 

And heaven, cannot woo thee, 
To shake thy shackles off, and leave behind thee 
Those fetters, which to death and hell do bind thee? 

In vain thou say'st, 

Thou art buried with thy Saviour, 
If thou delay'st, 

To show, by thy behavior, 
That thou art risen with him; Till thou shine 
Like him, how canst thou say his light is thine? 

Early he rose, 

And with him brought the day, 
Which all thy foes 

Frighted out of the way : 
And wilt thou sluggard-like turn in thy bed, 
Till noon-sun beams draw up thy drowsy head? 

Open thine eyes, 

Sin-seized soul, and see 
What cobweb-ties 

They are, that trammel thee : 
Not profits, pleasures, honors, as thou thinkest; 
But loss, pain, shame, at which thou vainly winkest. 



no EASTER 

All that is good 

Thy Saviour dearly bought 
With his heart's blood : 

And it must there be sought, 
Where he keeps residence, who rose this day : 
Linger no longer then; up, and away. 



EASTER SACRAMENTS 

BY HENRY PARK SCHAUFFLER 

pThere is a Soul Gethsemane 

Where I must kneel, 
A prayer which I must pray 

Till I can feel 
[That, though the anguish redden on my brow, 

And Calvary's begun, 
From Him I'll take the sacrament of Love: — 
" Thy will, not mine be done." 

[There is a Resurrection Life 

That I must share, 
A tomb that I must leave; 

And though I bear 
The wounds which I have won upon my cross, 

Transfigured, they will shine — 
A sacramental pledge of Love with Faith, 

To make His rising mine. 



AN EASTER-TIDE DELIVERANCE ill 
AN EASTER-TIDE DELIVERANCE. A. D. 430 

BY MARIA H. BULFINCH 

The sun was drowned in the western tide, 

The moon shone pale on the mountain side; 

The heathen host, by the camp-fire's light, 

In feasts and revels passed the night. 

They talked of deeds that should be done 

At early dawn of the morrow's sun ; 

They laughed in scorn that the Christian band 

Their mighty host should dare withstand. 

The Christians prayed through the whole night long, 

Their arms were weak, their faith was strong. 

Close pressed the foe on every side, 

But heaven above was fair and wide. 

The sun that sank in the blood-red sea, 

An earthly type of their fate might be. 

The moon that shone with so cold a light 

In vain might seek them another night; 

But Christ, their leader, would faithful be, 

And death in His cause is victory. 

Hours passed — one ray of morning light 

Was on the topmost mountain height. 

On a lofty crag, sublime and high, 

A form stood forth 'gainst the glowing sky. 

The Saint Germanus ! '^- he turned his eyes 

Where Easter's sun began to rise. 

No word of sorrow his lips let fall, 

No word of dangers around them all. 

He bared to heaven his reverent head, 



ii 12 EASTER 

For Christ this morn arose from the dead. 

Then " Alleluia! " aloud he cried, 

And "Alleluia!" the rocks replied; 

And " Alleluia ! " from cliff to cave, 

An answering shout the Christians gave. 

The echoes sound it again and again, 

Like the voice of a host of mighty men. 

The heathens start, with strange, vague fear, 

"What unseen foes have drawn so near? 

Hath the God of the Christians sent in the night 

His Bands of Angels to join in the fight?" 

Then wild with terror they fled away — 

The battle was won that Easter-Day. 

Is life so hopeless, brother, to thee, 

That naught but death can bring victory? 

Rise thou above thine own despair, 

Forget thyself and thy pressing care ; 

Let the voice of praise from thy lips arise, 

Thine Alleluia mount to the skies ; 

And on thy heart's glad Easter-Day, 

Thy foes, in terror, shall flee away. 



SABBATH MORN * 

FROM THE DANISH OF NICOLAI GRUNDTVIG 

From death, Christ on the Sabbath morn, 

A conqueror arose; 
And when each Sabbath dawn is born 

For death a healing grows. 

* By permission of Funk & Wagnalls Co. 



EASTER DAY 113 

This day proclaims an ended strife, 
And Christ's benign and holy life. 

By countless lips the wondrous tale 

Is told throughout the earth; 
Ye that have ears to hear, oh, hail 

That tale with sacred mirth ! 
Awake, my soul, rise from the dead, 
See life's grand light around thee shed. 

Death trembles each sweet Sabbath hour, 
Death's brother, Darkness, quakes; 

Christ's word speaks with divinest power, 
Christ's truth its silence breaks ; 

They vanquish with their valiant breath 

The reign of darkness and of death. 



EASTER DAY* 

BY JOHN KEBLE 

O Day of days! shall hearts set free, 
No "minstrel rapture" find for thee? 
Thou art the Sun of other days, 
They shine by giving back thy rays: 

Enthroned in thy sovereign sphere 
Thou shed'st thy light on all the year: 
Sundays by thee more glorious break, 
An Easter Day in every week: 

* By permission of Funk & Wagnalls Co. 



H4 EASTER 

And week days, following in their train, 
The fullness of thy blessing gain, 
Till all, both resting and employ, 
Be one Lord's day of holy joy. 



Then wake, my soul, to high desires, 
And earlier light thine altar fires : 
The world some hours is on her way, 
Nor thinks on thee, thou blessed day : 

Or, if she thinks, it is in scorn : 
The vernal light of Easter morn 
To her dark gaze no brighter seems 
Than Reason's or the Law's pale beams. 

" Where is your Lord? " she scornful asks : 
" Where is his hire ? we know his tasks ; 
Sons of a King ye boast to be : 
Let us your crowns and treasures see." 

We in the words of truth reply 
(An angel brought them from the sky), 
" Our crown, our treasure is not here, 
Tis stored above the highest sphere: 

" Methinks your wisdom guides amiss, 
To seek on earth a Christian's bliss ; 
We watch not now the lifeless stone : 
Our only Lord is risen and gone. 5 * 



EASTER DAY 115 

Yet even the lifeless stone is dear 
For thoughts of him who late lay here ; 
And the base world, now Christ hath died, 
Ennobled is and glorified. 

No more a charnel-house, to fence 

The relics of lost innocence, 

A vault of ruin and decay — 

The imprisoning stone is rolled away. 

'Tis now a cell where angels use 
To come and go with heavenly news, 
And in the ears of mourners say, 
"Come, see the place where Jesus lay": 

'Tis now a fane, where love can find 
Christ everywhere embalmed and shrined: 
Aye gathering up memorials sweet 
Where'er she sets her duteous feet. 

Oh, joy to Mary first allowed, 
When roused from weeping o'er his shroud, 
By his own calm, soul-soothing tone, 
Breathing her name, as still his own ! 

Joy to the faithful Three renewed, 
As their glad errand they pursued ! 
Happy, who so Christ's word convey, 
That he may meet them on their way ! 



u6 EASTER 

So is it still : to holy tears, 
In lonely hours, Christ risen appears; 
In social hours, who would Christ see 
Must turn all tasks to charity. 



EARTH'S EASTER 
(MCMXVI) 

BY ROBERT HAVEN SCHAUFFLER 

Earth has gone up from its Gethsemane, 

And now on Golgotha is crucified; 

The spear is twisted in the tortured side; 
The thorny crown still works its cruelty. 
Hark ! while the victim suffers on the tree, 

There sound through starry spaces, far and wide, 

Such words as by poor souls in hell are cried: 
" My God ! my God ! Thou hast forsaken me ! " 

But when Earth's members from the cross are drawn, 

And all we love into the grave is gone, 

This hope shall be a spark within the gloom: 

That, in the glow of some stupendous dawn, 
We may go forth to find, where lilies bloom, 
Two angels bright before an empty tomb. 



Ill 

HYMNS AND CAROLS 



EASTER DAY 

BY CHARLES WESLEY 

Christ the Lord is risen to-day, 
Sons of men and angels say: 
Raise your joys and triumphs high, 
Sing, ye heavens, and earth reply. 

Love's redeeming work is done, 
Fought the fight, the victory won : 
Jesus' agony is o'er, 
Darkness veils the earth no more. 

Vain the stone, the watch, the seal, 
Christ hath burst the gates of hell; 
Death in vain forbids Him rise, 
Christ hath opened Paradise. 

Soar we now where Christ hath led, 
Following our exalted Head; 
Made like Him, like Him to rise ; 
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies. 

WELCOME, HAPPY MORNING 

BY VENATIUS FORTUNATUS 

"Welcome, happy morning!" age to age shall say; 
Hell to-day is vanquished, heaven is won to-day ! 

119 



120 EASTER 

Lo! the dead is living, God for evermore! 
Him, their true Creator, all His works adore! 

"Welcome, happy morning!" age to age shall say. 



Earth her joy confesses, clothing her for spring, 
All fresh gifts returned with her returning King: 
Bloom in every meadow, leaves on every bough, 
Speak His sorrow ended, hail His triumph now. 

Hell to-day is vanquished, heaven is won to-day. 



Months in due succession, days of lengthening light, 
Hours and passing moments praise Thee in their flight; 
Brightness of the morning, sky and fields and sea, 
Vanquisher of darkness, bring their praise to Thee! 

" Welcome happy morning ! " age to age shall say. 



Maker and Redeemer, life and health of all, 
Thou from heaven beholding human nature's fall, 
Of the Father's Godhead true and only Son, 
Manhood to deliver, manhood didst put on. 

Hell to-day is vanquished, heaven is won to-day. 



Thou, of life the author, death didst undergo, 
Jread the path of darkness, saving strength to show; 



HE IS RISEN i2i 

Come then, True and Faithful, now fulfill Thy word ; 
Tis Thine own third morning: rise, O buried Lord! 

" Welcome, happy morning ! " age to age shall say. 



Loose the souls long prisoned, bound with Satan's 

chain ; 
All that now is fallen raise to life again; 
Show Thy face in brightness, bid the nations see ; 
Bring again our daylight: day returns with Thee! 

Hell to-day is vanquished, heaven is won to-day ! 



HE IS RISEN 

BY CECILE FRANCES ALEXANDER 

He is risen, He is risen; 

Tell it out with joyful voice: 
He has burst His three days prison; 

Let the whole wide earth rejoice: 
Death is conquered, man is free, 
Christ has won the victory. 

Come ye sad and fearful-hearted, 
With glad smile and radiant brow: 

Lent's long shadows have departed; 
All His woes are over now, 

And the passion that He bore: 

Sin and pain can vex no more. 



122 EASTER 

Come with high and holy hymning, 
Chant our Lord's triumphant lay; 

Not one darksome cloud is dimming 
Yonder glorious morning ray, 

Breaking o'er the purple East, 

Symbol of our Easter Feast. 

He is risen, He is risen; 

He hath opened heaven's gate: 
We are free from sin's dark prison, 

Risen to an holier state; 
And a brighter Easter beam 
On our longing eyes shall stream. 



THE STRIFE IS O'ER 

TR. FROM THE LATIN BY FRANCIS POTTS 

The strife is o'er, the battle done; 
The victory of life is won; 
The song of triumph has begun. 

Alleluia ! 

The powers of death have done their worst, 
But Christ their legions hath dispersed; 
Let shouts of holy joy outburst. 

Alleluia ! 

The three sad days are quickly sped; 
He rises glorious from the dead; 
All glory to our risen Head! 

Alleluia ! 



RESURGAM 123 

He closed the yawning gates of hell; 
The bars from heaven's high portals fell; 
Let hymns of praise His triumph tell! 

Alleluia ! 

Lord! by the stripes which wounded Thee, 
From death's dread sting Thy servants free, 
Then may we live, and sing to Thee 

Alleluia ! 



RESURGAM * 
" Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Finita sunt prcelia " 

LATIN HYMN OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY 
TRANSLATED BY J. M. NEALE 

Alleluia ! Alleluia ! 
Finished is the battle now ; 
[The crown is on the victor's brow ! 

Hence with sadness, 

Sing with gladness, 
Alleluia! 

Alleluia ! Alleluia ! 
After sharp death that him befell, 
Jesus Christ hath harrowed hell. 

Earth is singing, 

Heaven is ringing, 
Alleluia ! 

* By permission of Funk & Wagnalls Co. 



124 EASTER 

Alleluia ! Alleluia ! 
On the third morning he arose, 
Bright with victory o'er his foes. 

Sing we lauding, 

And applauding, 
Alleluia ! 

Alleluia ! Alleluia ! 
He hath closed hell's brazen door, 
And heaven is open evermore! 

Hence with sadness, 

Sing with gladness, 
Alleluia ! 

Alleluia ! Alleluia ! 
Lord, by thy wounds we call on thee, 
So from ill death to set us free, 

That our living 

Be thanksgiving! 
Alleluia ! 



PRAISE TO THE LAMB 

AMBROSIAN HYMN TRANSLATED BY ROBERT 
CAMPBELL 

At the Lamb's high feast we sing 
Praise to our victorious King, 
Who hath washed us in the tide 
Flowing from His pierced side; 
Praise we Him, Whose love divine 



PRAISE TO THE LAMB 125 

Gives His sacred blood for wine, 
Gives His body for the feast, 
Christ the victim, Christ the priest 

Where the Paschal blood is poured, 
Death's dark angel sheathes his sword; 
Israel's hosts triumphant go 
Through the wave that drowns the foe. 
Praise we Christ, Whose blood was shed. 
Paschal victim, Paschal bread; 
With sincerity and love 
Eat we manna from above. 

Mighty victim from the sky, 

Hell's fierce powers beneath Thee lie; 

Thou hast conquered in the fight, 

Thou hast brought us life and light; 

Now no more can death appall, 

Now no more the grave enthrall; 

Thou hast opened Paradise, 

And in Thee Thy saints shall rise. 

Easter triumph, Easter joy, 
Sin alone can this destroy; 
From sin's power do Thou set free 
Souls new-born, O Lord, in Thee. 
Hymns of glory and of praise, 
Risen Lord, to Thee we raise; 
Holy Father, praise to Thee, 
With the Spirit, ever be. 



126 EASTER 

CHRIST IS ARISEN * 
by Arthur Cleveland coxe 

Christ is arisen, 

Joy to thee, mortal ! 
Out of his prison, 

Forth from its portal! 
Christ is not sleeping, 

Seek him no longer ; 
Strong was his keeping, — 

Jesus was stronger! 

Christ is arisen, 

Seek him not here ; 
Lonely his prison, 

Empty his bier ; 
Vain his entombing, 

Spices, and lawn, 
Vain the perfuming, 

Jesus is gone! 

Christ is arisen, 

Joy to thee, mortal ! 
Empty his prison, 

Broken its portal : 
Rising, he giveth 

His shroud to the sod; 
Risen, he liveth, 

And liveth to God ! 

* By permission of Funk & Wagnalls Co. 



EASTER 127 

EASTER CAROL* 

BY GEORGE NEWELL LOVEJOY 

O Earth! throughout thy borders 

Re-don thy fairest dress; 
And everywhere, O Nature! 

Throb with new happiness; 
Once more to new creation 

Awake, and death gainsay, 
For death is swallowed up of life, 

And Christ is risen to-day! 

Let peals of jubilation 

Ring out in all the lands; 
With hearts of deep elation 

Let sea with sea clasp hands; 
Let one supreme Te Deum 

Roll round the World's highway, 
For death is swallowed up of life, 

And Christ is risen to-day! 

* By permission of The Chautauquan. 
EASTER 

BY MARTIN LUTHER 
FROM THE LATIN OF JOHN HUSS 

Jesus Christ to-day is risen, 
And o'er Death triumphant reigns; 



128 EASTER 

He has burst the grave's strong prison, 
Leading Sin herself in chains. 

Kyrie eleison. 

For our sins the sinless Saviour 
Bare the heavy wrath of God; 

Reconciling us, that favor 

Might be shown us through his blood. 
Kyrie eleison. 

In his hands he hath forever 

Mercy, life, and sin, and death; 

Christ his people can deliver, 
All who come to him in faith. 

Kyrie eleison. 



IV 
IMMORTALITY 



AFRAID? OF WHOM AM I AFRAID? 

BY EMILY DICKINSON 

Afraid? Of whom am I afraid? 
Not death; for who is he? 
The porter of my father's lodge 
As much abasheth me. 

Of life? 'Twere odd I fear a thing 
That comprehendeth me 
In one or more existences 
At Deity's decree. 

Of resurrection? Is the east 
Afraid to trust the morn 
With her fastidious forehead? 
As soon impeach my crown ! 

THE NEW BIRTH * 

BY JONES VERY 

Tis a new life; — thoughts move not as they did, 
With slow, uncertain steps across my mind, 

In thronging haste fast pressing on they bid 
The portals open to the viewless wind 

*By permission of Funk & Wagnalls Co. 
131 



132 EASTER 

That comes not save when in the dust is laid 

The crown of pride that gilds each mortal brow, 
And from before man's vision melting fade 

The heavens and earth; — their walls are falling 
now. 
Fast crowding on, each thought asks utterance strong ; 

Storm-lifted waves swift rushing to the shore, 
On from the sea they send their shouts along, 

Back through the cave-worn rocks their thunders 
roar; 
And I, a child of God, by Christ made free, 
Start from death's slumbers to Eternity ! 



LINES WRITTEN THE NIGHT BEFORE 
HIS EXECUTION 

BY SIR WALTER RALEIGH 

E'en such is time ; which takes on trust 
Our youth, our joys, our all we have, 

And pays us but with earth and dust; 
Which in the dark and silent grave, 

When we have wandered all our ways, 
Shuts up the story of our days: 
But from this earth, this grave, this dust, 
My God shall raise me up, I trust. 



THE VALLEY OF LIFE 133 

THE VALLEY OF LIFE* 

BY RICHARD WATSON GILDER 

When I was a child joyfully I ran, hand claspt in 
hand, now with my mother, now with my father, or 
with younger, blithe companions, now in sunlight, now 
in shadow and dread, through the strange new Valley 
of Life. 

Sometimes on the high-road, then over the fields 
and meadows, or through the solemn forests; some- 
times along the happy brook-side, listening to its music 
or the clamor of the falls, as the pleasant waters hur- 
ried or grew still, in the winding way down the Valley 
of Life. 

And as we moved along, hand claspt in hand, some- 
times the handclasp was broken, and I, a happy child, 
ran swiftly from the path to gather flower or fruit or 
get sight of a singing bird ; or to lean down and pluck 
a pearly stone from under the lapping waves; or 
climbed a tree and swayed, shouting, on its waving 
boughs — then returning to the clasp of loving hands, 
and so passing on and on down the opening Valley of 
Life. 

In the bright morning I walked wondering, wonder- 
ing I walked through the still twilight and many- 
colored sunset; watching the great stars gather, and 
lost in the mystery of worlds beyond number, and 
spaces beyond thought, till, side by side, we lay down 

* By permission of Houghton Mifflin Co. 



134 EASTER 

to sleep under the stars in the Valley of Life and of 
Dreams. 

Then there came a time when the hands that held 
me, — the loving hands that guided my steps and drew 
me gently on, — turned cold, and slipt from my grasp ; 
I waited, but they came not back, and slowly and alone 
I plodded on down the Valley of Life and of Death. 

" Where went they ? " I asked my heart and the 
whispering waters and the sighing trees. "Where 
went my loving and well-beloved guides? Did they 
climb the hills and tarry; did they, tired, lie down to 
sleep and forget me forever; leaving me to journey on 
without their dear care down the Long Valley of 
Life?" 

I could not know, for I heard no answer except my 
own heart's beating. But other comrades came, — one 
dearer than all, — and as time went on I felt the little 
hands of my own children clasping mine while, once 
more happy and elate, with them I traveled down the 
miraculous Valley of Life. 

But, as on we wander, hearing their bright voices, 
and seeing their joy upon the way, — their happy chas- 
ings here and there, their eager run to hold again our 
hands, — how soon, I think, shall I feel the slipping 
away of the clasping fingers while I fall asleep by the 
wayside, or climb the cloud-enveloped hills, and leave 
those I love to journey on down the lonely Valley of 
Life! 

And I say : " Surely the day and the hour hasten ; 
grief will be theirs for a season : then will they, as did 
I, with brave hearts journey on the appointed way." 



CHEERFULNESS TAUGHT BY REASON 135 

But where then shall my spirit rest? Will it sink un- 
conscious into endless night? or shall I, in some new 
dawn, and by some unimagined miracle not less than 
that which brought me here, wander with those that led 
me once, and those I led, hand claspt in hand, as of old, 
by the murmuring waters and under the singing trees 
of the ever-wonderful, the never-ending Valley of 
Life? 



CHEERFULNESS TAUGHT BY REASON 

BY ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING 

I think we are too ready with complaint 

In this fair world of God's. Had we not hope 

Indeed beyond the zenith and the slope 

Of yon gray bank of sky, we might be faint 

To muse upon eternity's constraint 

Round our aspirant souls. But since the scope 

Must widen early, is it well to droop 

For a few days consumed in loss and taint? 

O pusillanimous Heart, be comforted, — 

And, like a cheerful traveler, take the road, 

Singing beside the hedge. What if the bread 

Be bitter in thine inn, and thou unshod 

To meet the flints ? — At least it may be said, 

" Because the way is short, I thank thee, God ! " 



136 EASTER 

ONE* 

BY MARION MONKS CHASE 

Though surrender cut the heart, 
Spirit and spirit need not part, 
Though their universe be shaken 
Soul from soul may not be taken. 
Though the temple veil be torn 
Love out-lasting earth is born. 

*By permission of the author. 

THE SYMBOLISM OF RESURRECTION 

Has it occurred to us as we have walked through 
some great Cathedral that the carved beasts and birds 
everywhere, inside and out, have all a meaning? 

It is only within a few years that we have learned 
that they have symbolic meaning and that religion in 
the middle ages was taught through these devices to 
the people who had not the knowledge to read books 
but who could read through these figures, often most 
grotesque, the lessons of the Scriptures. 

Books that give us full descriptions of these forms 
have come down to us from the past and are now to be 
found in many of the libraries of the world. They 
are called Bestiaries or Physiologus and are found in 
many languages; the earliest in existence belongs to 
the fifth century. It is thought that they are of Alex- 
andrine origin and of course the original has perished 
but the translations into about twelve different Ian- 



L THE SYMBOLISM OF RESURRECTION 13^ 

guages have saved the knowledge for us. The writers 
were not scientific and they had no real comprehension 
of the habits of animals but surrounded them with all 
sorts of superstitions. 

Among the many figures that represent particular 
phases in the life of Christ we shall choose those only 
that tell of the Resurrection. 

The Lion typifies the Resurrection in that the young 
lions are fabled to be born without life. After three 
days the lion howls over them and vivifies them by his 
breath; so the Almighty Father recalled to life His 
Son, our Lord Jesus Christ who on the third day was 
raised from the dead. 

This characteristic of the lion has been a favorite 
symbol of the resurrection of Christ as well as the 
general resurrection, and holds a large place in 
mediaeval architecture. 

We find representations of it in the principal en- 
trance of St. Lawrence in Nuremberg, in the choir of 
Augsburg Cathedral, at the foot of a colossal crucifix 
in St. Nicholas of Stralsund, in the Wurtemberg clois- 
ters Maulbronn and Bebenhausen, and in a large relief, 
which dates from the latter half of the thirteenth cen- 
tury and doubtless belonged originally to some church 
or cloister, but which now adorns the fagade of a 
house, Im Thai near the Marienplatz in Munich. So 
toot the stained window of the minster of Freiburg 
in the Breisgau contains a painting of the Crucifixion, 
at the top of which is a pelican feeding its young with 
its own blood ; above the pelican stands the lion breath- 
ing over three whelps, which are just beginning to 



138 EASTER 

show signs of life. A stained glass window of the 
thirteenth century in the cathedral of St. Etienne at 
Bourges represents the pelican below on the left and 
the lion an%jthe whelps on the right of the Crucified ; 
above, are Jonah delivered from the whale and Elijah 
restoring life to the son of the widow. In the 
cathedrals of Mans and Tours are similar symbols 
of the death and resurrection of Christ, in which the 
phoenix rising from its ashes takes the place of the 
pelican. The lion and whelps was often carved on 
sacramental vessels. 

At a somewhat later period the lion, as a symbol of 
the Resurrection was sculptured on public buildings 
of a secular character and on private dwellings ; it was 
also engraved on pieces of armor and especially on 
helmets, often with the legend, D online vivified me 
secundum verbum tuum, or some other appropriate 
words expressing the hope of the warrior that, if slain 
in battle, he might be raised up on the last day. Dur- 
and, in his Rubrica de Evangelistis says that St. Mark's 
type is a roaring lion, " because his aim is chiefly to 
give a description of the resurrection of Christ, and 
that for this reason his gospel is read at Easter." 

The Peacock comes from Pagan art. There, it was 
Juno's bird, and was supposed to portray the apotheosis 
of an empress. On Christian sepulchers in the Cata- 
combs the peacock is symbolic of immortality: either 
because of the belief of St. Augustine that its flesh 
was incorruptible, or of the yearly changing of its 



i [THE SYMBOLISM OF RESURRECTION 139 

brilliant feathers to regain them more gloriously in 
the spring. 

On the coins of Faustina the peacock as the symbol 
of the soul in glory has its head encircled by the nim- 
bus and on the coins of the Antonines, the phoenix, 
the symbol of immortality, so appears also. 

The Physiologus say that the Phoenix is a native 
of India and Arabia. When it is five hundred years 
old, it flies to Lebanon, and fills its wings with the 
fragrant gum of a tree growing there, and thence 
hastens to Heliopolis in Egypt, where it burns itself 
upon the high altar of the Temple of the Sun. When 
the priest comes the next day to offer sacrifices, he re- 
moves the ashes from the altar, and finds therein a 
small worm of exceeding sweet odor, which in three 
days develops into a young bird, and on the fourth day 
attains its full size and plumage, and greeting the 
priest with reverence returns to its home. 

This illustrates the words of Christ " I have power 
to lay down My life, and I have power to take it up 
again." 

These perfumes which fill the wings symbolize the 
good works which the righteous man accumulates and 
by which he earns eternal life; and as the phoenix 
kindles the fire which consumes it by the fanning mo- 
tion of its own wings, so the saint, mounting on the 
wings of heavenly meditation, has his soul enkindled 
and renewed by the flames of the Holy Spirit. 

Jertullian, in all good faith accepts the phoenix as 



140 EASTER 

a most marked and evident symbol of the resurrection 
and eternity. 

The phoenix is represented in some of the earliest 
mosaics in the churches of Rome. 

Cremation as practiced by the Romans would natur- 
ally serve to make the phoenix still more suitable and 
striking as a symbol of the resurrection and of immor- 
tality: and in this sense the bird burning itself was 
often sculptured on cinerary urns and is also men- 
tioned in Jewish writings as an emblem of renewed life 
and vigor. The Greek word for date-palm and phoenix 
is the same, and the tree was said to die and then 
spring up anew like the bird. The passage in Psalm 
xcii, 12, " The righteous shall flourish like the palm- 
tree " may mean in the Septuagint " like the phoenix/' 
and was so understood by Tertullian and the Phys- 
iologus. 

The phoenix, like many other symbols was trans- 
ferred from the Pagan urn to the Christian sarcoph- 
agus. Sometimes a date-palm is used to express the 
same idea: and frequently the tree and the phoenix 
appear together. Among the mosaics adorning the 
tribune of the Lateran is a large cross, and beneath it 
the New Jerusalem, out of the midst of which rises a 
stately palm-tree with a phoenix perched on its top. 

The Bestiaries say that the Pelican is fond of its 
young, but when the latter grow older, they begin to 
strike their parents in the face, this enrages the parents, 
which kill them in anger, but at last the female comes 
in remorse and smites its breast with its beak so that 



THE SYMBOLISM OF RESURRECTION 141 

the blood may flow and raise the young to life again. 
The symbolism of the pelican seems to be connected 
not only with Christ's Passion, but also with the Chris- 
tian Resurrection, as seen for example, in the window 
of the Bourges Cathedral. 

The Serpent has also been accepted as an emblem of 
regeneration from the annual casting of its skin. As 
a symbol of eternity, the serpent may often be seen 
having its tail in its mouth, thus forming a complete 
circle, for the circle — never beginning, never ending 
— typifies the life everlasting. 

The Scarab among the Egyptians, when represented 
with out-spread wings is emblematic of immortality. 

The Lotus Flower is also used in Egyptian art as 
the sign of eternal life. 

The Greek name for Butterfly is Psyche and the 
same word means Soul. 

There is no illustration of the human soul so strik- 
ing and beautiful as the butterfly bursting on brilliant 
wings from the tomb in which it has lain after a cater- 
pillar existence, to live in the sunlight and feed on the 
most delicate and fragrant blossoms of the spring. 
So Psyche treated allegorically is the human soul which 
is purified by sufferings and misfortunes, and is thus 
fitted for the life which " Eye hath not seen, nor ear 
heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, 
the things which God hath prepared for them that love 
him." 



142 EASTER 

RESURRECTION* 

BY SARAH H. BRADFORD 

Two thousand years ago a flower 
Bloomed brightly in a far off land ; 
Two thousand years ago its seed 
Was placed within a dead man's hand. 

Before the Saviour came to earth 
That man had lived, and toiled, and died; 
But even in that far-off time 
That flower had shed its perfume wide. 

Suns rose and set, years came and went ; 
That dead hand kept its treasure well : 
Nations were born, and turned to dust, 
While life was hidden in that shell. 

The senseless hand is robbed at last; 
The seed is buried in the earth ; 
When lo ! the life long sleeping there 
Into a lovely flower burst forth. 

Just such a plant as that which grew 
From such a seed when buried low ; 
Just such a flower in Egypt bloomed, 
And died — two thousand years ago. 

*By permission of Funk & Wagnalls Co. 



VIRTUE 143 

And will not he who watched the seed 
And kept the life within the shell, 
When those he loves are laid to rest, 
Watch o'er his buried saints as well? 

And will not he, from 'neath the sod, 
Cause something glorious to arise? 
Aye, though it sleeps two thousand years, 
Yet all this slumbering dust shall rise. 

Just such a face as greets you now, 
Just such a form as you now wear, 
But oh, more glorious far, shall rise 
To meet the Saviour in the air! 

Then will I lay me down in peace, 
When called to leave this vale of tears; 
For "in my flesh I shall see God." 
E'en though I sleep two thousand years! 



VIRTUE 

BY GEORGE HERBERT 

Sweet Day ! so cool, so calm, so bright, 
The bridal of the earth and sky, 
pThe dew shall weep thy fall to-night, — 
For thou must die. 

Sweet Rose ! whose hue, angry and brave, 
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, 



144 EASTER 

Thy root is ever in its grave ; — 

And thou must die. 

Sweet Spring ! full of sweet days and roses ; 
A box where sweets compacted lie ; 
My music shows ye have your closes ; — 
And all must die. 

Only a sweet and virtuous soul, 
Like seasoned timber, never gives ; 
But, though the whole world turn to coal, 
Then chiefly lives. 



IN CHANGE UNCHANGING 

BY HENRY WARD BEECHER 

January ! Darkness and light reign alike. Snow is 
on the frozen ground. Cold is in the air. The win- 
ter is blossoming in frost-flowers. Why is the ground 
hidden ? Why is the earth white ? So hath God wiped 
out all the past: so hath he spread the earth, like an 
unwritten page, for a new year! Old sounds are 
silent in the forest and in the air. Insects are dead, 
birds are gone, leaves have perished, and all the foun- 
dations of soil remain. Upon this lies, white and tran- 
quil, the emblem of newness and purity, the virgin 
robes of the yet unstained year ! 

April ! The singing month. Many voices of many 
birds call for resurrection over the graves of flowers, 
and they come forth. Go, see what they have lost. 



THEY ARE ALL GONE 145 

What have ice and snow and storm done unto them? 
How did they fall into the earth stripped and bare? 
How do they come forth opening and glorified? Is 
it then so fearful a thing to lie in a grave ? 

In its wild career, shaking and scourged of storms 
through its orbit, the earth has scattered away no 
treasures. The hand that governs in April governed 
in January. You have not lost what God had only 
hidden. You lose nothing in struggle, in trial, in bitter 
distress. If called to shed thy joys as trees shed their 
leaves ; if the affections be driven back into the heart, 
as the life of flowers to their roots, yet be patient. 
Thou shalt lift up thy leaf-covered boughs again. 
Thou shalt shoot forth from thy roots new flowers. 
Be patient ! Wait ! 



THEY ARE ALL GONE* 

BY HENRY VAUGHAN 

They are all gone into the world of light, 

And I alone sit ling' ring here ! 
Their very memory is fair and bright, 

And my sad thoughts doth clear. 

It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast, 

Like stars upon some gloomy grove, 
Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest 

After the sun's remove. 

* From " Warner's Library of the World's Best Literature." 



146 EASTER 

I see them walking in an air of glory, 
Whose light doth trample on my days ; 

My days, which are at best but dull and hoary, 
— Mere glimmerings and decays. 

lO holy hope ! and high humility ! 

High as the heavens above ! 
These are your walks, and you have shewed them me 

<To kindle my cold love. 

Dear, beauteous death — the jewel of the just! 

Shining nowhere but in the dark ; 
What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust, 

Could man outlook that mark ! 

He that hath found some fledged bird's nest may know 

At first sight if the bird be flown ; 
But what fair dell or grove he sings in now, 

That is to him unknown. 

And yet as angels in some brighter dreams 

Call to the soul when man doth sleep, 
So some strange thoughts transcend our wonted 
themes, 

And into glory peep. 

If a star were confined into a tomb, 
Her captive flames must needs burn there ; 

But when the hand that lockt her up gives room, 
She'll shine through all the sphere. 



THE RETREATE 147 

O Father of eternal life, and all 

Created glories under thee ! 
Resume thy spirit from this world of thrall 

Into true liberty. 

Either disperse these mists, which blot and fill 

My perspective still as they pass ; 
Or else remove me hence unto that hill 

Where I shall need no glass. 



THE RETREATE* 

BY HENRY VAUGHAN 

Happy those early dayes when I 
Shined in my angell infancy! 
Before I understood this place 
Appointed for my second race, 
Or taught my soul to fancy aught 
But a white, celestiall thought ; 
When yet I had not walkt above 
A mile or two from my first love, 
And looking back, at that short space, 
Could see a glimpse of his bright face ; 
When on some gilded cloud or flowre 
My gazing soul would dwell an houre, 
And in those weaker glories spy 
Some shadows of eternity ; 
Before I taught my tongue to wound 
My conscience with a sinf ull sound, 

* From " Warner's Library of the World's Best Literature." 



148 EASTER 

Or had the black art to dispence 
A severall sinne to every sence, 
But felt through all this fleshly dresse 
Bright shootes of everlastingnesse. 
Oh, how I long to travell back, 
And tread again that ancient track ! 
That I might once more reach that plaine, 
Where first I left my glorious traine; 
From whence th' inlightned spirit sees 
That shady city of palme-trees. 
But ah ! my soul with too much stay 
Is drunk, and staggers in the way ! 
Some men a forward motion love, 
But I by backward steps would move; 
And when this dust falls to the urn, 
In that state I came — return. 



A LETTER 

BY FREDERIKA BREMER 

Aorsta, Sweden, 1841. 
Thank God ! my dear Frances, that we shall one day 
get rid of this material body. I think that is a glori- 
ous thing; for I feel often deeply the truth of what 
is written in the Book of wisdom : " The mortal body 
burdens the soul, and the earthly body makes heavy the 
mind;" and I feel that I shall be able to love more 
warmly and to think better, when we are set free from 
the chrysalis, which again and again throws its folds 
round the spirit longing for liberty. I feel it also now 



A LETTER 149 

when a lingering cloud of migraine in my head presses 
down my thoughts and words, which fain would reach 
you, and infolds the mind so that it feels itself fettered. 
Ah ! it will be indeed delightful one day to get rid of 
this heavy and infirm load. A body (form, organs,) 
we shall get, for it is the anti-type and indispensable 
expression of the soul. The resurrection of Christ is 
the real manifestation hereof. St. Paul explains this 
in his splendid Epistle to the Corinthians wherein he 
says: "It is sown a natural body; it is raised a 
spiritual body." ..." It is sown in dishonor ; it is 
raised in glory/' etc., etc. Raised in glory, in power ! 
Yes, but on condition that we, here in mortality, de- 
velop the life, which beyond the grave shall be thus 
raised also in outward glory. Is there on earth a nour- 
ishment, a food that can strengthen and develop man 
to become heavenly, to become a citizen in the king- 
dom of glory? Is there on earth a heavenly bread, a 
heavenly wine? You long to reach heaven. Look 
up to the symbol thereof, which arches over our heads. 
Does not all light come from thence? Light, the 
cheerful, the warm, the vivifying, which gives to all 
beings, to all conditions development and beauty; in 
which all attain their glorification, and which, reflected 
in millions of rays, gives itself to all beings, gives to all 
a part of its life. Thus there is in everything from 
which our soul derives nourishment, a secret, divine 
power, a heavenly bread and wine given to us for the 
development and glorification of our being. It is found 
in the life of loving service; in the work of scientific 
research ; in the beauty of art; in the splendor of Na- 



ISO EASTER 

ture; it is found in joy, in sorrow, in suffering, in 
everything; aye, even in the bustle of every one's 
business; in the food which we enjoy corporeally. 
But we must understand this ; we must understand the 
heavenly, which is hidden in the earthly; we must in 
us receive the eternal, which lives and develops itself 
in finite temporal circumstances. Only in this way do 
we prepare our real transformation, and make, already 
here, the wings grow, which shall be made perfect 
when the earthly shell breaks. 



LIFE THROUGH DEATH * 

BY RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH 



A Pagan king tormented fiercely all 

Who would not on his senseless idols call, 

Nor worship them ; and him were brought before 

A mother and her child, with many more. 

The child, fast bound, was flung into the flame, 

Her faith the mother did in fear disclaim : 

But when she cried, " O Sweetest, live as I," 

He answered, " Mother dear, I do not die ; 

Come, mother, bliss of heaven is here my gain, 

Although I seem to you in fiery pain. 

This fire serves only for your eyes to cheat, 

Like Jesus' breath of balm 'tis cool and sweet. 

Come, learn what riches with our God are stored, 

* By permission of Funk & Wagnalls Co. 



LIFE THROUGH DEATH 151 

And how he feeds me at the angelic board. 
Come, prove this fire; like water-floods it cools, 
While your world's water burns like sulphur pools. 
Come, Abraham's secret, when he found alone 
Sweet roses in the furnace, here is known. 
Into a world of death thou barest me; 
O Mother, death, not life, I owed to thee. 
Fair world I deemed it once of glorious pride, 
Till in this furnace I was deified; 
But now I know it for a dungeon-tomb, 
Since God has brought me into larger room. 
Oh, now at length I live ; from my pure heaven 
Each cloud, that stained it once, away is driven : 
Come, mother, come, and with thee many bring; 
Cry, ' Here is spread the banquet of the King ' ; 
Come, all ye faithful, come, and dare to prove 
The bitter-sweet, the pain and bliss of love." 
So cried the child unto that crowd of men; 
All hearts with fiery longings kindled then ; 
Toward the pile they headlong rushing came, 
And soon their souls fed sweetly on the flame. 

11 

A dewdrop falling on the wild sea-wave, 
Exclaimed in fear, " I perish in this grave " ; 
But in a shell received, that drop of dew 
Unto a pearl of marvelous beauty grew ; 
And, happy now, the grace did magnify 
Which thrust it forth, as it had feared, to die ; — 
Until again, " I perish quite," it said, 
Torn by rude diver from its ocean bed : 



15^ EASTER 

O unbelieving! — so it came to gleam 
Chief jewel in a monarch's diadem. 

in 

The seed must die, before the corn appears 
Out of the ground, in blade and fruitful ears. 
Low have those ears before the sickle lain, 
Ere thou canst treasure up the golden grain. 
The grain is crushed, before the bread is made ; 
And the bread broke, ere life to man conveyed. 
Oh, be content to die, to be laid low, 
And to be crushed, and to be broken so, 
If thou upon God's table mayst be bread, 
Life-giving food for souls an-hungered. 



IMMORTALITY 

ABRIDGED FROM THE ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITTANICA 

Immortality, the condition or quality of being ex- 
empt from death or annihilation. . . . The belief in 
human immortality in some form is almost universal; 
even in early animistic cults the germ of the idea is 
present, and in all the higher religions it is an impor- 
tant feature. . . . 

In the Orphic mysteries " the soul was regarded as 
a part of the divine, a particula aurce divince, for 
which the body in its limited and perishable condition 
was no fit organ, but a grave or prison. The existence 
of the soul in the body was its punishment for sins in 
a previous condition; and the doom of its sins in the 



IMMORTALITY 153 

body was its descent into other bodies, and the post- 
ponement of its deliverance" (Salmond's Christian 
Doctrine of Immortality, p. 109). This deliverance 
was what the mysteries promised. A remarkable pas- 
sage in Pindar (Thren. 2) is thus rendered by J. W. 
Donaldson (Pindar's Epinician or Triumphal Odes, p. 
372). "By a happy lot, all persons travel to an end 
free of toil. And the body, indeed, is subject to the 
powerful influence of death ; but a shadow of vitality is 
still left alive, and this alone is of divine origin ; while 
our limbs are in activity it sleeps ; but, when we sleep, 
it discloses to the mind in many dreams the future 
judgment with regard to happiness and misery." 

The belief of Socrates is uncertain. In the Apology 
he is represented as sure that "no evil can happen 
to a good man, either in life or after death," but as 
not knowing whether " death be a state of nothingness 
and utter unconsciousness, or a change or migration 
of the soul from this world to the next" (i. 40, 41). 
In the Phcedo a confident expectation is ascribed to 
him. He is not the body to be buried ; he will not re- 
main with his friends after he has drunk the poison, 
but he will go away to the happiness of the blessed. 
The silence of the Memorabilia of Xenophon must be 
admitted as an argument to the contrary ; but the prob- 
ability seems to be that Plato did not in the Phcedo 
altogether misrepresent the Master. In Plato's 
thought the belief held a prominent position. " It is 
noteworthy," says Professor D. G. Ritchie, "that, in 
the various dialogues in which Plato speaks of immor- 
tality, the arguments seem to be of different kinds, 



154 EASTER 

and most of them quite unconnected with one another. 
In the Phcedrus (245 C) the argument is, that the soul 
is self-moving, and, therefore, immortal ; and this ar- 
gument is repeated in the Laws (x. 894, 895). It is 
an argument that Plato probably inherited from Alc- 
mseon, the physician of Croton (Arist. De An. i. 2, 
par. 17, 405 A 29), whose views were closely connected 
with those of the Pythagoreans. In the Phcedo the 
main argument up to which all the others lead is that 
the soul participates in the idea of life. Recollection 
{anamnesis) alone would prove preexistence, but not 
existence after death. In the tenth book of the Re- 
public we find the curious argument that the soul does 
not perish like the body, because its characteristic evil, 
sin or wickedness does not kill it as the diseases of the 
body wear out the bodily life. In the Timceus (41 A) 
the immortality even of the gods is made dependent 
on the will of the Supreme Creator; souls are not in 
their own nature indestructible, but persist because of 
His goodness. In the Laws (xii. 959 A) the notion 
of a future life seems to be treated as a salutary doc- 
trine which is to be believed because the legislator en- 
acts it (Plato, p. 146). The estimate to be formed of 
this reasoning has been well stated by Dr. A. M. Fair- 
bairn, " Plato's arguments for immortality, isolated, 
modernized, may be feeble, even valueless, but allowed 
to stand where and as he himself puts them, they have 
an altogether different worth. The ratiocinative parts 
of the Phcedo thrown into syllogisms may be easily de- 
molished by a hostile logician ; but in the dialogue as a 
whole there is a subtle spirit and cumulative force 



IMMORTALITY 155 

which logic can neither seize nor answer" (Studies 
in the Philosophy of Religion, p. 226, 1876). 

Aristotle held that active intelligence alone is im- 
mortal. The Stoics were not agreed upon the ques- 
tion. Cleanthes is said to have held that all survive 
to the great conflagration which closes the cycle, Chry- 
sippus that only the wise will. Marcus Aurelius 
teaches that even if the spirit survive for a time it is 
at last " absorbed in the generative principle of the 
universe." Epicureanism thought that " the wise man 
fears not death, before which most men tremble ; for, 
if we are, it is not; if it is, we are not." . . . Augustine 
adopts a Platonic thought when he teaches that the 
immortality of the soul follows from its participation in 
the eternal truths. The Apologists themselves wel- 
comed, and commended to others, the Christian reve- 
lation as affording a certainty of immortality such as 
reason could not give. . . . 

In stating constructively the doctrine of immortality 
we must assign altogether secondary importance to 
the metaphysical arguments from the nature of the 
soul. It is sufficient to show, as has already been done, 
that the soul is not so absolutely dependent on the 
body, that the dissolution of the one must necessarily 
involve the cessation of the other. Such arguments 
as the indivisibility of the soul and its persistence can 
at most indicate the possibility of immortality. 

The juridical argument has some force ; the present 
life does not show that harmony of condition and char- 
acter which our sense of justice leads us to expect; 
the wicked prosper and the righteous suffer ; there is 



156 EASTER 

ground for the expectation that in the future life the 
anomalies of this life will be corrected. Although 
this argument has the support of such great names as 
Butler and Kant, yet it will repel many minds as an 
appeal to the motive of self-interest. 

The ethical argument has greater value. Man's life 
here is incomplete, and the more lofty his aims, the 
more worthy his labors, the more incomplete will it 
appear to be. The man who lives for fame, wealth, 
power, may be satisfied in this life; but he who lives 
for the ideals of truth, beauty, goodness, lives not for 
time but for eternity, for his ideals cannot be realized, 
and so his life fulfilled on this side of the grave. Un- 
less these ideals are mocking visions, man has a right 
to expect the continuance of his life for its comple- 
tion. . . . 

More general in its appeal still is the argument from 
the affections, which has been beautifully developed in 
Tennyson's In Memoriam. The heart protests against 
the severance of death, and claims the continuance of 
love's communion after death; and as man feels that 
love is what is most godlike in his nature, love's claim 
has supreme authority. 

There is a religious argument for immortality. The 
saints of the Hebrew nation were sure that as God 
had entered into fellowship with them, death could not 
sever them from his presence. This is the argument 
in Psalms xvi and xvii, if, as is probable, the closing 
verses do express the hope of a glorious and blessed 
immortality. This too is the proof Jesus himself of- 
fers when he declares God to be the God of the living 



IMMORTALITY 157 

and not of the dead (Matt, xxii, 32). God's com- 
panions cannot become death's victims. 

Josiah Royce in his lecture on The Conception of 
Immortality (1900) combines this argument of the 
soul's union with God with the argument of the in- 
completeness of man's life here: — 

" Just because God is One, all our lives have various 
and unique places in the harmony of the divine life. 
And just because God attains and wins and finds this 
uniqueness, all our lives win in our union with Him 
the individuality which is essential to their true mean- 
ing. And just because individuals whose lives have 
uniqueness of meaning are here only objects of pur- 
suit, the attainment of this very individuality, since 
it is indeed real, occurs not in our present form of 
consciousness, but in a life that now we see not, yet 
in a life whose genuine meaning is continuous with 
our own human life, however far from our present 
flickering form of disappointed human consciousness 
that life of the final individuality may be. Of this 
our true individual life, our present life is a glimpse, 
a fragment, a hint, and in its best moments a visible 
beginning. That this individual life of all of us is 
not something limited in its temporal expression to the 
life that now we experience, follows from the very 
fact that here nothing final or individual is found ex- 
pressed" (pp, 14-146). 

R. W. Emerson declares that " the impulse to seek 
proof of immortality is itself the strongest proof of 
all." We expect immortality not merely because we 
desire it; but because the desire itself arises from 



158 EASTER 

all that is best and truest and worthiest in ourselves. 
The desire is reasonable, moral, social, religious; it 
has the same worth as the loftiest ideals, and worthiest 
aspirations of the soul of man. The loss of the belief 
casts a dark shadow over the present life. " No sooner 
do we try to get rid of the idea of Immortality — than 
Pessimism raises its head. . . . Human griefs seem 
little worth assuaging; human happiness too paltry (at 
best) to be worth increasing. The whole moral world 
is reduced to a point. Good and evil, right and wrong, 
become infinitesimal, ephemeral matters. The affec- 
tions die away — die of their own conscious feeble- 
ness and uselessness. A moral paralysis creeps over 
us" (Natural Religion, Postscript). The belief exer- 
cises a potent moral influence. "The day," says 
Ernest Renan, "in which the belief in an after-life 
shall vanish from the earth will witness a terrific 
moral and spiritual decadence. Some of us perhaps 
might do without it, provided only that others held 
it fast. But there is no lever capable of raising an 
entire people if once they have lost their faith in the 
immortality of the soul " (quoted by A. W. Momerie, 
Immortality, p. 9). To this belief, many and good 
as are the arguments which can be advanced for it, a 
confident certainty is given by Christian faith in the 
Risen Lord, and the life and immortality which he has 
brought to light in his Gospel. 



THE LILY OF THE RESURRECTION 159 
JHE LILY OF THE RESURRECTION * 

BY LUCY LARCOM 

While the lily dwells in the earth, 
Walled about with crumbling mold, 

She the secret of her birth 
Guesses not, nor has been told. 

Hides the brown bulb in the ground, 

Knowing not she is a flower; 
Knowing not she shall be crowned 

As a queen, with white-robed power. 

Though her whole life is one thrill 

Upward, unto skies unseen, 
In her husks she wraps her still, 

Wondering what her visions mean. 

Shivering, while the bursting scales 
Leave her heart bare, with a sigh 

She her unclad state bewails, 
Whispering to herself, " I die." 

Die? Then may she welcome death, 

Leaving darkness underground, 
Breathing out her sweet, free breath! 

Into the new heavens around. 

* By permission of Houghton Mifflin Co, 



i6o EASTER 

Die? She bathes in ether warm: 

Beautiful without, within, 
See at last the imprisoned form 

All its fair proportions win ! 

Life it means, this impulse high 
Which through every rootlet stirs : 

Lo ! the sunshine and the sky 
She was made for, now are hers ! 

Soul, thou too art set in earth, 
Heavenward through the dark to grow : 

Dreamest thou of thy royal birth? 
Climb ! and thou shalt surely know. 

Shuddering Doubt to Nature cries, — 
Nature, though she smiles, is dumb, — ■ 

"How then can the dead arise? 
With what body do they come ? " 

Lo, the unfolding mystery! 

We shall bloom, some wondrous hour, 
As the lily blooms, when she 

Dies a bulb, to live a flower ! 



THE BIBLE ON IMMORTALITY 

If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things 
which are above, where Christ sitteth on the right 
hand of God. Set your affection on things above, 
not on things on the earth. For ye are dead and your 



THE BIBLE ON IMMORTALITY 161 

life is hid with Christ in God. When Christ, who is 
our life, shall appear, then shall ye also appear with 
him in glory. 

St. Paul to the Colossians. 

Christ being raised from the dead, dieth no more; 
death hath no more dominion over him. For in that 
he died, he died unto sin once; but in that he liveth, 
he liveth unto God. Likewise reckon ye also your- 
selves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God 
through Jesus Christ our Lord. 

St. Paul to the Romans. 

If in this life only, we have hope in Christ, we are 
of all men most miserable. But now is Christ risen 
from the dead, and become the first-fruits of them 
that slept. For since by man came death, by man came 
also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all 
die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive. 

St. Paul to the Corinthians. 

But some man will say, How are the dead raised 
up? and with what body do they come? Thou fool, 
that which thou sowest is not quickened except it die : 
and that which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body 
that shall be, but bare grain ; it may chance of wheat, or 
some other grain : but God giveth it a body as it hath 
pleased him, and to every seed its own body. All 
flesh is not the same flesh; but there is one kind of 
flesh of men, another flesh of beasts, another of fishes, 
and another of birds. There are also celestial bodies 



162 EASTER 

and bodies terrestial: but the glory of tHe celestial is 
one, and the glory of the terrestial is another. There 
is one glory of the sun and another glory of the moon, 
and another glory of the stars ; for one star diff ereth 
from another star in glory. So also is the resurrec- 
tion of the dead. It is sown in corruption, it is raised 
in incorruption : It is sown in dishonor, it is raised in 
glory: it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power: 
it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. 
. . . Behold I shew you a mystery ; we shall not all 
sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the 
twinkling of an eye, at the last trump : for the trumpet 
shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, 
and we shall be changed. For this corruptible must 
put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on im- 
mortality. So when this corruptible shall have put 
on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on im- 
mortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that 
is written, Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, 
where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? 
The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the 
law. But thanks be to God, which giveth us the vic- 
tory, through our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore my 
beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, unmoveable, always 
abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye 
know that your labor is not in vain in the Lord. 

St. Paul. 

Marvel not at this: for the hour is coming, in the 
which all that are in the graves shall hear his voice, 
and shall come forth; they that have done good, unto 



RESURRECTION 163 

the resurrection of life ; and they that have done evil, 
unto the resurrection of damnation. 

St. John. 

I am the resurrection and the life : he that believeth 
in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live : and who- 
soever liveth, and believeth in me, shall never die. 

St. John. 



RESURRECTION* 

BY ALFRED NOYES 

Once more I hear the everlasting sea 

Breathing beneath the mountain's fragrant breast, 
Come unto Me, come unto Me, 

And I will give you rest. 

We have destroyed the Temple and in three days 
He hath rebuilt it — all things are made new : 

And hark 'what wild throats pour His praise 
Beneath the boundless blue. 

We plucked down all His altars, cried aloud 

And gashed ourselves for little gods of clay ! 
Yon floating cloud was but a cloud, 
, The May no more than May. 

We plucked down all His altars, left not one 

Save where, perchance (and ah, the joy was fleet), 

* By permission of Frederick A. Stokes Company. 



164 EASTER 

We laid our garlands in the sun 
At the white Sea-born's feet. 

We plucked down all His altars, not to make 

The small praise greater, but the great praise less, 

We sealed all fountains where the soul could slake 
Its thirst and weariness. 

u Love " was too small, too human to be found 
In that transcendent source where love was born ; 

We talked of " forces " : heaven was crowned 
With philosophic thorn. 

" Your God is in your image," we cried, but O, 
'Twas only man's own deepest heart ye gave, 

Knowing that He transcended all ye know, 
While we — we dug His grave. 

Denied Him even the crown on our own brow, 
E'en these poor symbols of His loftier reign, 

Leveled His Temple with the dust, and now 
He is risen, He is risen again. 

Risen, like this resurrection of the year, 
This grand ascension of the choral spring, 

Which those Harp-crowded heavens bend to hear 
And meet upon the wing. 

" He is dead," we cried, and even amid that gloom 
The wintry veil was rent ! The new-born day 



THRENODY 165 

Showed us the Angel seated in the tomb 
And the stone rolled away. 

It is the hour ! We challenge heaven above 
Now, to deny our slight ephemeral breath 

Joy, anguish, and that everlasting love 
Which triumphs over death. 



THRENODY 

BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON 

The South-wind brings 

Life, sunshine and desire, 

And on every mount and meadow 

Breathes aromatic fire ; 

But over the dead he has no power, 

■The lost, the lost, he cannot restore ; 

And, looking over the hills, I mourn 

L The darling who shall not return. 

I see my empty house, 

I see my trees repair their boughs ; 

And he, the wondrous child, 

Whose silver warble wild 

Outvalued every pulsing sound 

Within the air's cerulean round, — 

The hyacinthine boy, for whom 

Morn well might break and April bloom, 



166 EASTER 

The gracious boy, who did adorn 
The world whereinto he was born, 
And by his countenance repay 
The favor of the loving Day, — 
Has disappeared from the Day's eye ; 
Far and wide she cannot find him ; 
My hopes pursue they cannot bind him. 
Returned this day, the south wind searches, 
And finds young pines and budding birches ; * 
But finds not the budding man ; 
Nature who lost, cannot remake him ; 
Fate let him fall, Fate can't retake him ; 
Nature, Fate, men, him seek in vain. 

And whither now, my truant wise and sweet, 

O, whither tend thy feet? 

I had the right, few days ago, 

Thy steps to watch, thy place to know : 

How have I forfeited the right? 

Hast thou forgot me in a new delight ? 

I hearken for thy household cheer, 

O eloquent child ! 

Whose voice, an equal messenger, 

Conveyed thy meaning mild. 

What though the pains and joys 

Whereof it spoke were toys 

Fitting his age and ken. 

• • • • • • • • 

His daily haunts I well discern, — 
Jhe poultry-yard, the shed, the barn, — 
And every inch of garden ground 



THRENODY 167 

Paced by the blessed feet around, 

From the roadside to the brook 

Whereinto he loved to look. 

Step the meek fowls where erst they ranged ; 

The wintry garden lies unchanged; 

The brook into the stream runs on ; 

But the deep-eyed boy is gone. 

child of paradise, 

Boy who made dear his father's home, 

In whose deep eyes 

Men read the welfare of the times to come, 

1 am too much bereft. 

The world dishonored thou hast left. 

O truth's and nature's costly lie ! 

O trusted broken prophecy ! 

O richest fortune sourly crossed ! 

Born for the future, to the future lost ! 

The deep Heart answered, " Weepest thou ? 

Worthier cause for passion wild 

If I had not taken the child. 

And deemest thou as those who pore, 

With aged eyes, short way before,— 

Think'st Beauty vanished from the coast 

Of matter, and thy darling lost? 

Taught he not thee — the man of eld, 

Whose eyes within his eyes beheld 

Heaven's numerous hierarchy span 

The mystic gulf from God to man ? 

To be alone wilt thou begin 

When worlds of lovers hem thee in? 



168 EASTER 

To-morrow, when the masks shall fall 
That dizen Nature's carnival, 
The pure shall see by their own will, 
Which overflowing Love shall fill, 
'Tis not within the force of fate 
The fate conjoined to separate. 
But thou, my votary, weepest thou ? 
I gave thee sight — where is it now ? 
I taught thy heart beyond the reach 
Of ritual, Bible, or of speech. 

Past utterance, and past belief, 
And past the blasphemy of grief, 
The mysteries of Nature's heart ; 
And though no Muse can these impart, 
Throb thine with Nature's throbbing breast, 
And all is clear from east to west. 

" I came to thee as to a friend ; 
Dearest, to thee I did not send 
Tutors, but a joyful eye, 
Innocence that matched the sky, 
Lovely locks, a form of wonder, 
Laughter rich as woodland thunder, 
That thou might'st entertain apart 
The richest flowering of all art : 
And, as the great all-loving Day 
Through smallest chambers takes it way, 
That thou might'st break thy daily bread 
With prophet, savior and head ; 
Jhat thou might'st cherish for thine own 



THRENODY 169 

The riches of sweet Mary's Son, 
Boy-Rabbi, Israel's paragon. 

" And thoughtest thou such guest 

Would in thy hall take up his rest? 

Would rushing life forget her laws, 

Fate's revolution pause ? 

High omens ask diviner guess ; 

Not to be conned to tediousness. 

And know my higher gifts unbind 

The zone that girds the incarnate mind. 

When the scanty shores are full 

With Thought's perilous, whirling pool ; 

When frail Nature can no more, 

Then the Spirit strikes the hour : . 

My servant Death, with solving rite, 

Pours finite into infinite. 

Wilt thou freeze love's tidal flow, 

Whose streams through nature circling go? 

Nail the wild star to its track 

On the half-climbed zodiac? 

Light is light which radiates, 

Blood is blood which circulates, 

Life is life which generates, 

And many-seeming life is one, — 

Wilt thou transfix and make it none? 

Its onward force too starkly pent 

In figure, bone, and lineament? 

Wilt thou uncalled, interrogate, 

Talker ! the unreplying Fate ? 

Nor see the genius of the whole 



170 EASTER 

Ascendant in the private soul, 

Beckon it when to go and come, 

Self-announced its hour of doom? 

Fair the soul's recess and shrine, 

Magic-built to last a season ; 

Masterpiece of love benign, 

Fairer than expansive reason 

Whose omen 'tis, and sign. 

Wilt thou not ope thy heart to know 

What rainbows teach, and sunsets show? 

Verdict which accumulates 

From lengthening scroll of human fates, 

Voice of earth to earth returned, 

Prayers of saints that inly burned, — 

Saying, What is excellent, 

As God lives, is permanent: 

Hearts are dust, hearts* loves remain; 

Heart's love will meet thee again. 

Revere the Maker ; fetch thine eye 

Up to his style, and manners of the sky. 

Not of adamant and gold 

Built he heaven stark and cold ; 

No, but a nest of bending reeds, 

Flowering grass and scented weeds ; 

Or like a traveler's fleeing tent, 

Or bow above the tempest bent ; 

Built of tears and sacred flames, 

And virtue reaching to its aims ; 

Built of furtherance and pursuing, 

Not of spent deeds, but of doing. 

Silent rushes the swift Lord 



QUOTATIONS 171 

Through ruined systems still restored, 
Broadsowing, bleak and void to bless, 
Plants with worlds the wilderness ; 
Waters with tears of ancient sorrow 
Apples of Eden ripe to-morrow. 
House and tenant go to ground, 
Lost in God, in Godhead found." 



QUOTATIONS 

The assurance of immortality alone is not enough. 
For if we are told that we are to live forever and 
still left without the knowledge of a personal God, 
eternity stretches before us like a boundless desert, a 
perpetual and desolate orphanage. It is the Divine 
companionship that the spirit needs first of all and 
most deeply. 

Henry Van Dyke. 

A poem like In Memoriam, more than all the flowers 
of the returning spring, more than all the shining 
wings that flutter above the ruins of the chrysalis, 
more than all the sculptured tombs and monuments 
of the beloved dead, is the living evidence and intima- 
tion of an endless life. 

Henry Van Dyke. 

And is not the best of all our hopes — the hope of 
immortality — always before us? How can we be 
dull and heavy while we have that new experience to 



172 EASTER 

look forward to ? It will be the most joyful of all our 
travels and adventures. It will bring us our best ac- 
quaintances and friendships. But there is only one 
way to get ready for immortality, and that is to love 
this life, and live it as bravely and cheerfully and 
faithfully as we can. 

Henry Van Dyke. 

The great Easter truth is not that we are to live 
newly after death — that is not the great thing — but 
that we are to be new here and now by the power of 
the resurrection ; not so much that we are to live for- 
ever as that we are to, and may, live nobly now be- 
cause we are to live forever. 

Phillips Brooks. 

Not another day of the year comes upon the earth 
with such universal acceptance as this. Although 
every Sabbath day is now changed to be a day of re- 
joicing for the resurrection of the Son of God, yet this 
is the annual and all-inclusive day, and is the Sunday of 
Sundays, which proclaims the resurrection of Christ 
from the dead with sounding joy and sympathy of the 
whole Christian world. Christ is risen! There is 
life, therefore, after death! His resurrection is the 
symbol and pledge of universal resurrection ! 

Henry Ward Beecher. 

It is startling to us who are so attached to the cross 
as a symbol of Christianity and its all-conquering 
power to find no symbolic use of the cross in the Cata- 



WINTER SLEEPS 173 

combs, or elsewhere, for almost three hundred years 
after Christ's Ascension. When at last it does appear 
in the Catacombs, it is not the Passion cross nor the 
cross of the Lord's suffering, but the Resurrection 
cross, the cross of the Lord's Victory, that we see. 
Christ is represented as coming forth from his tomb 
mightily bearing a cross, a picture of the Living Lord 
who has triumphed over death. 

James G. K. McClure. 



WINTER SLEEP* 

BY EDITH M. THOMAS 

I know it must be winter (though I sleep) — 
I know it must be winter, for I dream 
I dip my bare feet in the running stream, 

And flowers are many and the grass grows deep. 

I know I must be old (how age deceives !) — 
I know I must be old, for, all unseen, 
My heart grows young, as autumn fields grow green 

When late rains patter on the falling sheaves. 

I know I must be tired (and tired souls err) — 
I know I must be tired, for all my soul 
To deeds of daring beats a glad, faint roll, 

As storms the riven pine to music stir. 

* By permission of Charles Scribner's Sons. 



174 EASTER 

I know I must be dying (Death draws near) — 

I know I must be dying, for I crave 

Life — life, strong life, and think not of the grave 
And turf-bound silence in the frosty year. 



(THE LITTLE PLANT* 

BY KATE L. BROWN 

In the heart of a seed 

Buried deep, so deep, 
A dear little plant 

Lay fast asleep. 

" Wake ! " said the sunshine 
" And creep to the light," 

" Wake ! " said the voice 
Of the raindrops bright. 

The little plant heard, 

And it rose to see 
What the wonderful 

Outside world might be. 

*From "The Plant Baby and Its Friends "— Silver, Bur- 
dett & Co., Boston and New York. 

"IN A NIGHT OF MIDSUMMER "* 

BY RICHARD WATSON GILDER 

In a night of midsummer, on the still eastern shore 
of the ocean inlet, 



"IN A NIGHT OF MIDSUMMER » 175 

In our hearts a sense of the inaudible pulsing of the 
unseen, infinite sea, 

Suddenly through the clear, cool air, arose the voice 
of a wonderful tenor; soaring and sobbing in the 
music of " Otello.' , 

I knew that the singer was long dead; I knew well 
that it was not his living voice; 

And yet truly it was as the voice of a living man ; 
though heard as through a veil, still was it human; 
still was it living; still was it tragic; 

Still felt I the fire of the spirit of a man; I was 
moved by the passion of his art; I perceived the flower 
and essence of his person ; the exquisite expression of 
his mind and soul ; 

His soul it was that seized my soul, through his 
voice, which was as the very voice of sorrow ; 

And then I thought: If man, by science and 
searching, can build a cunning instrument that takes 
over and keeps, beyond the term of human existence, 
the essence and flower of a man's art ; 

If he can recreate that most individual attribute, his 
articulate and musical voice, and thus the very art and 
passion which that voice conveys, 
v Why may not the Supreme Artificer, when the 
human body is utterly dissolved and dispersed, recover 
and keep forever, in some new and delicate structure, 
the living soul itself? 

* By permission of Houghton Mifflin Co. 



i;6 EASTER 

THE WAKING YEAR 

BY EMILY DICKINSON 

A lady red upon the hill 
Her annual secret keeps ; 

A lady white within the field 
In placid lily sleeps ! 

The tidy breezes with their brooms 
Sweep vale, and hill, and tree; 

Prithee, my pretty housewives, 
Who may expected be? 

The neighbors do not yet suspect, 
The woods exchange a smile — 

Orchard, and buttercup, and bird — : 
In such a little while ! 

And yet how still the landscape stands, 
How nonchalant the wood, 

As if the resurrection 
Were nothing very odd ! 



FROM IN MEMORIAM 

BY ALFRED TENNYSON 

cxv 

Now fades the last long streak of snow, 
Now burgeons every maze of quick 
About the flowering squares, and thick 

By ashen roots the violets blow. 



FROM IN MEMORIAM 177 

Now rings the woodland loud and long, 
The distance takes a lovelier hue, 
And drowned in yonder living blue 

The lark becomes a sightless song. 

Now dance the lights on lawn and lea, 
The flocks are whiter down the vale, 
And milkier every milky sail 

On winding stream or distant sea ; 

Where now the sea mew pipes, or dives 
In yonder greening gleam, and fly 
The happy birds, that change their sky 

To build and brood : that live their lives 

From land to land ; and in my breast 

Spring wakens too ; and my regret 

Becomes an April violet, 
And buds and blossoms like the rest. 

CXVI 

Is it, then, regret for buried time 
That keenlier in sweet April wakes, 
And meets the year, and gives and takes 

The colors of the crescent prime? 

Not all : the songs, the stirring air, 

The life re-orient out of dust, 
Cry thro* the sense to hearten trust 
In that which made the world so fair. 



178 EASTER 

Not all regret: the face will shine 
Upon me, while I muse alone ; 
And that dear voice, I once have known, 

Still speak to me of me and mine : 

Yet less of sorrow lives in me 
For days of happy commune dead ; 
Less yearning for the friendship fled, 

Than some strong bond which is to be. 

CXVII 

O days and hours, your work is this 
To hold me from my proper place, 
A little while from his embrace, 

For fuller gain of after bliss : 

That out of distance might ensue 
Desire of nearness doubly sweet ; 
And unto meeting when we meet, 

Delight a hundredfold accrue. 

For every grain of sand that runs, 
And every span of shade that steals, 
And every kiss of toothed wheels, 

And all the courses of the suns. 

CXVIII 

Contemplate all this work of Time, 
The giant laboring in his youth ; 
Nor dream of human love and truth, 

As dying Nature's earth and lime ; 



FROM IN MEMORIAM 179 

But trust that those we call the dead 

Are breathers of an ampler day 

For ever nobler ends. They say 
The solid earth whereon we tread 

In tracts of fluent heat began, 
And grew to seeming-random forms, 
The seeming prey of cyclic storms, 

Till at the last arose the man ; 

Who throve and branch'd from clime to clime, 

The herald of a higher race, 

And of himself in higher place, 
If so he type this work of time 

Within himself, from more to more; 
Or, crown'd with attributes of woe 
Like glories, move his course, and show 

That life is not as idle ore, 

But iron dug from central gloom, 
And heated hot with burning fears, 
And dipt in baths of hissing tears, 

And batter'd with the shocks of doom 

Jo shape and use. Arise and fly 
The reeling Faun, the sensual feast ; 
Move upward, working out the beast, 

And let the ape and tiger die. 



i8o EASTER 

CXIX 

Doors, where my heart was used to beat 
So quickly, not as one that weeps 
I come once more ; the city sleeps ; 

I smell the meadow in the street; 

I hear the chirp of birds ; I see 
Betwixt the black fronts long-withdrawn 
A light-blue lane of early dawn, 

And think of early days and thee, 

And bless thee for thy lips are bland, 
And bright the friendship of thine eye ; 
And in my thoughts with scarce a sigh 

I take the pressure of thine hand. 

CXXIII 

There rolls the deep where grew the tree. 

O earth, what changes hast thou seen ! 

There where the long street roars, hath been 
The stillness of the central sea. 

The hills are shadows, and they flow 
From form to form, and nothing stands ; 
They melt like mist, the solid lands, 

Like clouds they shape themselves and go. 

But in my spirit will I dwell, 
And dream my dream, and hold it true; 
For tho' my lips may breathe adieu, 

I cannot think the thing farewell. 



FROM IN MEMORIAM 181 

CXXIV 

That which we dare invoke to bless ; 

Our dearest faith; our ghastliest doubt; 

He, They, One, All ; within, without ; 
The Power in darkness whom we guess ; 

I found Him not in world or sun, 

Or eagle's wing, or insect's eye; 

Nor thro' the questions men may try, 
The petty cobwebs we have spun : 

If e'er when faith had fall'n asleep, 
I heard a voice " believe no more " 
And heard an ever-breaking shore 

That tumbled into Godless deep; 

A warmth within the breast would melt 

The freezing reason's colder part, 

And like a man in wrath the heart 
Stood up and answer'd " I have felt." 

Not like a child in doubt and fear: 
But that blind clamor made me wise ; 
Then was I as a child that cries, 

But, crying, knows his father near; 

And what I am beheld again 
What is, and no man understands; 
And out of darkness came the hands 

That reach thro' nature, molding men. 



182 EASTER 

CXXX 

Thy voice is on the rolling air; 

I hear thee where the waters run ; 

Thou standest in the rising sun, 
And in the setting thou art fair. 

What art thou then ? I cannot guess ; 
But tho' I seem in star and flower 
To feel thee some diffusive power, 

I do not therefore love thee less: 

My love involves the love before ; 

My love is vaster passion now; 

Tho' mix'd with God and Nature thou, 
I seem to love thee more and more. 

Far off thou art, but ever nigh ; 

I have thee still, and I rejoice ; 

I prosper, circled with thy voice ; 
I shall not lose thee tho' I die. 

O living will that shalt endure 
When all that seems shall suffer shock, 
Rise in the spiritual rock, 

Flow thro' our deeds and make them pure, 

That we may lift from out of dust 
A voice as unto him that hears, 
A cry above the conquer'd years 

To one that with us works, and trust 



THE FUTURE 183 

With faith that comes of self-control, 
The truths that never can be proved 
Until we close with all we loved, 

And all we flow from, soul in soul. 



No longer half-akin to brute, 

For all we thought and loved and did, 
And hoped, and suffer'd, is but seed 

Of what in them is flower and fruit; 

Whereof the man, that with me trod 
This planet, was a noble type 
Appearing ere the times were ripe, 

That friend of mine who lives in God, 

That God, which ever lives and loves, 
One God, one law, one element, 
And one far-off divine event, 

To which the whole creation moves. 



THE FUTURE 

BY MATTHEW ARNOLD 

A wanderer is man from his birth, 

He was born in a ship, 
On the breast of the river of time, 

Brimming with wonder and joy. 
He spreads out his arms to the light, 

Rivets his gaze on the banks of the stream. 



i84 EASTER 

As what he sees is, so have his thoughts been, 

Whether he wakes, 
[Where the snowy mountainous pass, 

Echoing the screams of the eagles, 
Hems in its gorges the bed, 

Of the new-born clear-flowing stream; 
Whether he first sees light 
Where the river in gleaming rings 
Sluggishly winds through the plain ; 
Whether in sound of the swallowing sea^ 
As in the world on the banks, 
So is the mind of the man. 



Vainly does each, as he glides, 
Fable and dream 

Of the lands which the river of Time 
Had left ere he woke on its breast, 
Or shall reach when his eyes have been closed. 
Only the tract where he sails 
He wots of ; only the thoughts, 
Raised by the objects he passes, are his. 



Who can see the green earth any more 
As she was by the sources of Time? 
Who imagines her fields as they lay 
In the sunshine, unworn by the plow? 
Who thinks as they thought, 
The tribes who then roam'd on her breast, 
Her vigorous, primitive sons? 



THE FUTURE 185 

What girl 

Now reads in her bosom as clear 
As Rebekah read, when she sate 
At eve by the palm-shaded well? 
Who guards in her breast 
As deep, as pellucid a spring 
Of feeling, as tranquil, as sure? 

What bard 

At the height of his vision, can deem 

Of God, of the world, of the soul, 

With a plainness as near, 

As flashing as Moses felt 

When he lay in the night by his flock 

On the starlit Arabian waste? 

Can rise and obey 

The beck of the Spirit like him? 

This tract which the river of Time 

Now flows through with us is the plain. 

Gone is the calm of its earlier shore. 

Border'd by cities and hoarse 

With a thousand cries in its stream. 

And we on its breast, our minds 

Are confused as the cries which we hear, 

Changing and short as the sights which we see. 

And we say that repose has fled 

For ever the course of the river of Time. 

That cities will crowd to its edge 

In a blacker, incessanter line; 



186 EASTER 

That the din will be more on its banks, 

Dense the trade on its stream, 

Flatter the plain where it flows, 

Fiercer the sun overhead. 

That never will those on its breast 

See an ennobling sight, 

Drink of the feeling of quiet again. 

But what was before us we know not, 
And we know not what shall succeed. 

Haply, the river of Time — 

As it grows, as the towns on its marge 

Fling their wavering lights 

On a wider, statelier stream — 

May acquire, if not the calm 

Of its early mountainous shore, 

iYet a solemn peace of its own. 

And the width of the waters, the husH 

Of the gray expanse where he floats, 

Freshening its current and spotted with foam 

As it draws to the Ocean, may strike 

Peace to the soul of the man on its breast — r 

As the pale waste widens around him, 

As the banks fade dimmer away, 

As the stars come out, and the night-wind 

Brings up the stream 

Murmurs and scents of the infinite sea. 



DEATH 187 

DEATH 

BY BISHOP WILLIAM CROSWELL DOANE 

We are so stupid about death. We will not learn 
How it is wages paid to those who earn, 
How it is gift for which on earth we yearn, 
To be set free from bondage to the flesh; 
How it is turning seed-corn into grain, 
How it is winning Heaven's eternal gain, 
How it means freedom evermore from pain, 
How it untangles every mortal mesh. 

We are so selfish about deathr We count our grief 
Far more than we consider their relief, 
Whom the great Reaper gathers in the sheaf, 
No more to know the season's constant change; 
And we forget that it means only life, 
Life with all joy, peace, rest, and glory rife, 
The victory won, and ended all the strife, 
And Heaven no longer far away and strange. 

Their Lent is over, and their Easter won. 
Waiting, till over Paradise, the sun 
Shall rise in majesty, and life begun 
Shall grow in glory, as the perfect day 
Moves on, to hold its endless, deathless sway. 



i88 EASTER 

JOY, SHIPMATE, JOY! 

BY WALT WHITMAN 

Joy, shipmate, joy! 
(Pleased to my soul at death I cry,) 
Our life is closed, our life begins, 
The long, long anchorage we leave, 
The ship is clear at last, she leaps! 
She swiftly courses from the shore, 
Joy, shipmate, joy. 

CONTINUITIES 

BY WALT WHITMAN 

Nothing is ever really lost, or can be lost, 
No birth, identity, form, no object of the world. 
Nor life, nor force, nor any visible thing; 
Appearance must not foil, nor shifted sphere confuse 

thy brain. 
Ample are time and space — ample the fields of Nature. 
The body, sluggish, aged, cold — the embers left from 

earlier fires, 
The light in the eye grown dim, shall duly flame again ; 
The sun now low in the west rises for mornings and 

for noons continual ; 
To frozen clods ever the spring's invisible law returns, 
With grass and flowers and summer fruits and corn. 



THE EVENING WATCH i8g 

THE EVENING WATCH 
by henry vaughan 

Body 

Farewell ! I goe to sleep ; but when 
The day-star springs, I'll wake again. 

Soul 

Goe, sleep in peace; and when thou lyest 
Unnumbered in thy dust, when all this frame 
Is but one dramme, and what thou now descriest 

In sev'rall parts shall want a name, 
Then may His peace be with thee, and each dust 
Writ in His book, who ne'er betrayed man's trust! 

Body 

Amen ! but hark, ere we two stray, — 
How many hours, dost think, 'til day? 

Soul 

Ah, goe; thou'rt weak, and sleepie. Heaven 
Is a plain watch, and without figures winds 
All ages up; who drew this circle, even 
He fills it ; dayes and hours are blinds. 
Yet this take with thee: the last gasp of time 
Is thy first breath, and man's eternall prime. 



190 EASTER 



THREE GREAT THINKERS ON 
IMMORTALITY 

The doctrine of immortality in a world to come has 
not in the teachings of Jesus the appearance of a fresh 
philosophical theory or of a new truth kindling in him 
a constant surprise and intensity. It seems rather like 
unconscious knowledge. He speaks of the great in- 
visible world as if it had always lain before him, and 
as familiarly as to us stretches out the landscape which 
we have seen since our birth. The assertion of a 
future state is scarcely to be met within his teachings ; 
the assumption of it pervades them. — Henry Ward 
Beecher. 

The mere mortal history of Christ would have set- 
tled with us the question of futurity. For the great 
essential to this belief is a sufficiently elevated estimate 
of human nature: no man will ever deny its immor- 
tality who has a deep impression of its capacity for so 
great a destiny. And this impression is so vividly 
given by the life of Jesus — he presents an image of 
the soul so grand, so divine — as utterly to dwarf all 
the dimensions of its present career, and to necessitate 
a heaven for its reception. — James Martineau. 

If death be a transition to another place, and if it be 
true, as has been said, that all who have died are there 
— what, O judges, could be a greater good than this? 
For if a man, being set free from those who call them- 
selves judges here, is to find, on arriving in Hades, 
these true judges who are said to administer judgment 



"DEATH IS NOT THE END" 191 

in the unseen world . . . will his transition thither be 
for the worse ? What would not any one of you give 
to converse with Orpheus and Musacus and Hesiod 
and Homer? I would gladly die many times, if this 
be true. ... To dwell and converse with them and to 
question them would indeed be happiness unspeakable ! 
• — From Socrates Apologia as reported by Plato. 



" DEATH IS NOT THE END " 

ANONYMOUS 

The London Times, the great daily newspaper of 
Great Britain, recently called attention to the following 
sentence which appeared in the announcement of the 
death of an eminent man : " His wife and family will 
respect his urgent desire that no outward sign of 
mourning should be worn." The Times called at- 
tention to the fact that this announcement indicates a 
change of view which has silently and almost imper- 
ceptibly been taking place regarding this matter. 

This is true in the United States as well as in Great 
Britain. The outward and visible signs of mourning 
have in recent years been much decreased. Funerals 
are simpler, mourning where worn is less somber and 
worn for shorter periods. The reason for this may be 
found in a changed feeling with reference to death. 
There is less terror of it and more recognition that it is 
not the end, but an introduction to a fuller life. 

Gloom is out of place in connection with Christian 
death. Sorrow there must always be because of the 



192 EASTER 

sense of loss, but wherever there is Christian faith 
there must also be hope and comfort. To do away, 
therefore, with somber mourning shows no lack of re- 
spect for the dead, but only a confident trust in the 
promises of God and in the reality and blessedness of 
the future life. 

Dr. J. H. Jowett, pastor of the Fifth Avenue Pres- 
byterian Church, New York City, has recently sug- 
gested that in case of a death in the family, those who 
are left should wear gray instead of black, since gray 
is the color of the dawn and death is the dawn of the 
life everlasting. This is a beautiful suggestion, and 
where it is thought best to wear mourning at all, may 
well be followed. 



REAPPEARING 

BY HORATIUS BONAR 

The star is not extinguished when it sets 

Upon the dull horizon; but it goes 
To shine in other skies, then reappear 

In ours, as fresh as when it first arose. 

The river is not lost when o'er the rock 
It pours its flood into the abyss below; 

Its scattering force regathering from the shock, 
It hastens onward with yet fuller flow. 

The bright sun dies not when the shadowing orb 
Of the eclipsing moon obscures its ray; 



REAPPEARING 193 

It still is shining on, and soon to us 
Will burst undimmed into the joy of day. 

The lily dies not when both flower and leaf 

Fade, and are strewed upon the chill, sad ground; 

Gone back for shelter to its mother earth, 
'Twill rise, re-bloom, and shed its fragrance round. 

The dewdrop dies not when it leaves the flower, 
And passes upward on the beam of morn; 

It does but hide itself in light on high, 
To its loved flower at twilight to return. 

The fine gold has not perished when the flame 

Seizes upon it with consuming glow; 
In freshened splendor it comes forth anew, 

To sparkle on the monarch's throne or brow. 

Thus nothing dies, or only dies to live, — 

Star, stream, sun, flower, the dewdrop, and the gold : 

Each goodly thing, instinct with buoyant hope, 
Hastes to put on its purer, finer mold. 

So, in the quiet joy of kindly trust, 

We bid each parting saint a brief farewell; 
Weeping, yet smiling, we commit their dust 

To the safe keeping of the silent cell. 

Softly within that peaceful resting-place 
We place their wearied limbs, and bid the clay 

Press lightly on them, till the night be past, 
And the far east give note of coming day. 



194 EASTER 

The day of reappearing, how it speeds! 

He who is true and faithful speaks the word; 
Then shall we ever be with those we love ; 

Then shall we be forever with the Lord. 

The shout is heard ; the archangel's voice goes forth ; 

The trumpet sounds; the dead awake and sing; 
The living put on glory ; one glad band, 

They hasten up to meet their coming King ! 

Short death and darkness, endless life and light! 

Short dimming, endless shining in yon sphere, 
Where all is incorruptible and pure, 

The joy without the pain, the smile without the tear. 



JHE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS 

BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES 

This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, 

Sails the unshadowed main, — 

The venturous bark that flings 
On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings 
In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings, 

And coral reefs lie bare, 
Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming 
hair. 

Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl ; 
Wrecked is the ship of pearl! 
And every chambered cell, 



THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS 195 

Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell, 
As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell, 

Before thee lies revealed, — 
Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed! 

Year after year beheld the silent toil 

That spread his lustrous coil; 

Still, as the spiral grew, 
He left the past year's dwelling for the new, 
Stole with soft step its shining archway through, 

Built up its idle door, 
Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no 
more. 

Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, 

Child of the wandering sea, 

Cast from her lap, forlorn! 
From thy dead lips a clearer note is born 
Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn! 

While on my ear it rings, 
Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that 
sings : — 

Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, 

As the swift seasons roll ! 

Leave thy low- vaulted past ! 
Let each new temple, nobler than the last, 
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, t 

Till thou at length are free, 
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea ! 



iig6 EASTER 

THE DISCOVERER 

BY EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMANi 

I have a little kinsman 
Whose earthly summers are but three, 
And yet a voyager is he 
Greater than Drake or Frobisher, 
Than all their peers together! 
He is a brave discoverer, 
And, far beyond the tether 
Of them who seek the frozen pole, 
Has sailed where the noiseless surges roll. 
Aye, he has traveled whither 
A winged pilot steered his bark 
Through the portals of the dark, 
Past hoary Mimir's well and tree, 
Across an unknown sea. 

Suddenly, in his fair young hour, 
Came one who bore a flower. 
And laid it in his dimpled hand 

With this command : 
" Henceforth thou art a rover! 
Thou must make a voyage far, 
Sail beneath the evening star, 
And a wondrous land discover/* 
With his sweet smile innocent 

Our little kinsman went. 

Since that time no word 

From the absent has been heard. 



THE DISCOVERER r 197 

Who can tell 
How he fares, or answer well 
What the little one has found 
Since he left us, outward bound? 
Would that he might return! 
Then should we learn 
From the prick of his chart 
How the skyey roadways part. 
Hush! does not the baby this way bring, 
To lay beside this severed curl, 

Some starry offering 
Of chrysolite or pearl? 

Ah, no! not so! 
We may follow on his track, 

But he comes not back. 

And yet I dare aver 
He is a brave discoverer 
Of climes his elders do not know. 
He has more learning than appears 
On scroll of twice three thousand years, 
More than in groves is taught, 
Or from the furthest Indies brought; 
He knows, perchance, how spirits fare, — 
What shapes the angels wear, 
What is their guise and speech 
In those lands beyond our reach, — 

And his eyes behold 
Things that shall never, never be to mortal hearers 
told. 



198 EASTER 

THE BELIEF OF THE EGYPTIANS * 

BY AMELIA B. EDWARDS 

There is one central fact which must never be over- 
looked in any discussion of the old Egyptian people. 
They were the first in the history of the world who 
recognized, and held fast by, the doctrine of the im- 
mortality of the soul. Look back as far as we will 
into the darkness of their past, question as closely as 
we may the earliest of their monuments, and we find 
them looking forward to an eternal future. 

Their notions of man, the microcosm, were more 
complex than ours. They conceived him to consist 
of a Body, a Soul, a Spirit, a Name, a Shadow, and a 
Ka — that Ka which I have ventured to interpret as 
the Life, and they held that the perfect reunion of 
these parts was a necessary condition of the life to 
come. Hence the care with which they embalmed 
the Body; hence the food and drink offerings with 
which they nourished the Ka; hence the funerary 
texts with which they lined the tomb, and funerary 
papyri which they buried with the mummy for the in- 
struction of the Soul. But none of these precautions 
availed, unless the man had lived a pure, and holy life 
in this world, and came before the judgment-seat of 
Osiris with clean hands, a clean heart, and a clean 
conscience. 

* From " Pharaohs, Fellahs and Explorers," by permission 
of Harper & Brothers. Copyright 1891 by Harper & Brothers. 
All rights reserved. 



AFTER DEATH IN ARABIA 199 

AFTER DEATH IN ARABIA* 

BY EDWIN ARNOLD 

He who died at Azan sends 
This to comfort all his friends : 



Faithful friends! It lies, I know, 
Pale and white and cold as snow ; 
And ye say, "Abdallah's dead!" 
Weeping at the feet and head, 
I can see your falling tears, 
I can hear your sighs and prayers; 
Yet I smile and whisper this, — 
" I am not the thing you kiss ; 
Cease your tears, and let it lie; 
It was mine, it is not I." 



Sweet friends ! What the women lave 

For its last bed of the grave, 

Is but a hut which I am quitting, 

Is a garment no more fitting, 

Is a cage from which, at last, 

Like a hawk my soul hath passed 

Love the inmate, not the room, — 

The wearer, not the garb, — the plume 

Of the falcon, not the bars 

Which kept him from these splendid stars. 

* By permission of Little, Brown & Co. 



3oq EASTER 

Loving friends! Be wise and dry 
Straightway every weeping eye, — 
What ye lift upon the bier 
Is not worth a wistful tear. 
'Tis an empty sea-shell, — one 
Out of which the pearl is gone; 
The shell is broken, it lies there; 
The pearl, the all, the soul, is here. 
'Tis an earthen jar, whose lid 
Allah sealed, the while it hid 
That treasure of his treasury, 
A mind that loved him; let it lie! 
Let the shard be earth's once more, 
Since the gold shines in his store! 

Allah glorious! Allah good! 
Now thy world is understood; 
Now the long, long wonder ends; 
tYet ye weep, my erring friends, 
While the man whom ye call dead, 
In unspoken bliss, instead, 
Lives and loves you ; lost, 'tis true, 
By such light as shines for you; 
But in the light ye cannot see 
Of unfulfilled felicity, 
In enlarging paradise, 
Lives a life that never dies. 

Farewell, friends! Yet not farewell; 
Where I am, ye too shall dwell. 
I am gone before your face, 



BEYOND THE GRAVE 201 

A moment's time, a little space. 
When ye come where I have stepped, 
Ye will wonder why ye wept ; 
Ye will know, by wise love taught, 
That here is all, and there is naught. 
Weep a while, if ye are fain, — 
Sunshine still must follow rain : 
Only not at death, — for death, 
Now I know, is that first breath 
Which our souls draw when we enter 
Life, which is of all life center. 

Be ye certain all seems love, 

Viewed from Allah's throne above; 

Be ye stout of heart, and come 

Bravely onward to your home! 

La Allah ilia Allah! yea! 

Thou Love divine! Thou Love alway! 

He that died at Azan gave 

This to those who made his grave. 



BEYOND THE GRAVE 

BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON 

It is true the labors which are now laid on us for 
food, raiment, outward interests, cease at the grave. 
But far deeper wants than those of the body are devel- 
oped in heaven. There it is that the spirit first be- 
comes truly conscious of its capacities; that truth 



202 EASTER 

opens before us in its infinity ; that the universe is seen 
to be a boundless sphere for discovery, for science, for 
the sense of beauty, for beneficence and for adoration. 
There new objects to live for, which reduce to nothing- 
ness present interests, are constantly unfolded. We 
must not think of heaven as a stationary community. 
I think of it as a world of stupendous plans and efforts 
for its own improvement. I think of it as a society 
passing through successive stages of development, vir- 
tue, knowledge, power, by the energy of its own mem- 
bers. Celestial genius is always active to explore the 
great laws of the creation and the everlasting prin- 
ciples of the mind, to disclose the beautiful in the uni- 
verse and to discover the means by which every soul 
may be carried forward. In that world, as in this, 
there are diversities of intellect ; and the highest minds 
find their happiness and progress in elevating the less 
improved. There the work of education, which began 
here, goes on without end; and a diviner philosophy 
than is taught on earth reveals the spirit to itself, and 
awakens it to earnest, joyful effort for its own per- 
fection. 

TRANSPLANTED * 

BY HELEN HUNT JACKSON 

Then Christ, the Gardener, said, " These many years 

Behold how I have waited 
For fruit upon this barren tree, which bears 

But leaves! with unabated 

* By permission of Funk & Wagnalls Co. 



TRANSPLANTED 203 

Patience I have nurtured it; have fed 

Its roots with choicest juices; 
The sweetest suns their tender warmth have shed 

On it; still it refuses 
Its blossom; all the balmiest summer rain 

Has bathed it ; unrepaying, 
Still, its green glittering leaves, in vain 

And empty show arraying, 
It flaunts, contented in its uselessness, 

Ever my eye offending. 
Uproot it! Set it in the wilderness! 

There no more gentle tending 
Shall it receive; but, pricked by nettle stings 

And bruised and hurt, and crowded 
By stones, and weeds, and noxious growths of things 

That kill, and chilled 'neath shrouded 
And sunless skies, from whose black clouds no rain 

Shall fall to sooth its anguish, 
Bearing the utmost it can feel of pain, 

Unsuccored, it shall languish ! " 

When next across the wilderness Christ came, 

Seeking his Royal Garden, 
A tree stood in his pathway, all aflame, 

And bending with its burden 
Of burnished gold. No fruit inside the wall 

Had grown to such perfection ! 
It was the outcast tree! Deprived of all 

Kind nurture and protection, 
Thrust out among vile things of poisonous growth, 

Condemned, disgraced, and banished, 



204 EASTER 

Lonely and scorned, its energies put forth 

Anew. Air false show vanished, 
Its roots struck downward with determined hold. 

No more the surface roaming; 
And from the unfriendly soil, a thousand-fold 

Of yield compelled. 

The coming 
Of the Gardener now in sweet humility 

It waited, trusting, trembling; 
Then Christ, the Gardener, smiled and said: 

" O tree, 
This day, in the assembling 

Of mine, in Paradise, shalt thou be found. 

Henceforth in me abiding, 
More golden fruit shalt thou bring forth; and round 

Thy root the living waters gliding 
Shall give the greenness which can never fade. 
While angels, with thy new name sealing 

Thee, shall come, and gather in thy shade 
Leaves for the nations' healing ! " 

THE HOPE OF THE RESURRECTION* 

Suggested by the Remark of an African Chief to a 
Missionary 

BY FRANCES BROWNE 

Thy voice hath filled our forest shades, 

Child of the sunless shore! 
For never heard the ancient glades 

Such wondrous words before. 

* By permission of Funk & Wagnalls Co. 



THE HOPE OF THE RESURRECTION 205 

Though bards our land of palms have filled 

With tales of joy or dread, 
Yet thou alone our souls hast thrilled 

With tidings of her dead. 



The men of old, who slept in death 

Before the forests grew, 
Whose glory faded here beneath, 

While yet the hills were new; 
•The warriors famed in battles o'er, 

Of whom our fathers spake; 
The wise, whose wisdom shines no more,— 

Stranger, will they awake? 

The foes who fell in thousand fights 

Beneath my conquering brand, — 
Whose bones have strewn the Kaffir's heights 

The Bushman's lonely land, — 
The young, who shared my warrior-way, 

But found an early urn,— 
And the roses of my youth's bright day, — 

Stranger, will they return? 

My mother's face was fair to see — 
My father's glance was bright. — 

But long ago the grave from me 
Hath hid their blessed light ; 

Still sweeter was the sunshine shed 
By my lost children's eyes, 



206 EASTER 

That beam upon me from the dead, — 
Stranger, will they arise? 

Was it some green grave's early guest, 
Who loved thee long and well, 

That left the land of dreamless rest, 
Such blessed truths to tell? 

For we have had our wise ones, too, 
Who feared not death's abyss, — 

The strong in hope, in love the true, — 
But none that dreamed of this ! 

Yet, if the grave restore to life 

Her ransomed spoils again, 
And ever hide the hate and strife 

That died with wayward men; — 
How hath my spirit missed the star 

That guides our steps above ; — 
Since only earth was given to war, — 

That better land, to love! 



THE RESURRECTION * 

BY FRIEDRICH GOTTLIEB KLOPSTOCK 

Arise, yes, yes, arise, O thou my dust, 

From short repose thou must! 

Immortal liveth 

The soul the Maker giveth. 

Hallelujah! 

* By permission of Funk & Wagnalls Co. 



JERMINUS 207 

To rise and bloom again my seed he sows; 

The Lord of harvests goes, 

And, like unnumbered 

Sheaves, gathers us who slumbered. 

Hallelujah! 

O day of tearful joy! 

O grateful day ! 

O thou my Maker's day! 

My days when numbered, 

And I enough have slumbered, 

Thou'lt wake me up. 

Oh, then 'twill seem but like a dream so fair; 

With Jesus we will share 

His holy pleasure; 

Then will the pilgrim's measure 

Of grief be drained. 

Then will my guide be to the holiest land 

My Mediator's hand. 

On high then living, 

I'll praise him with thanksgiving. 

Hallelujah! 

TERMINUS 

BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON 

It is time to be old, 
To take in sail : — 
The god of bounds, 
Who sets to seas a shore, 



2o8 EASTER 

Came to me in his fatal rounds, 

And said : " No more ! 

No farther shoot 

Thy broad ambitious branches, and thy root. 

Fancy departs : no more invent ; 

Contract thy firmament 

To compass of a tent. 

There's not enough for this and that, 

Make thy option which of two; 

Economize the failing river, 

Not the less revere the Giver, 

Leave the many and hold the few. 

Timely wise accept the terms, 

Soften the fall with wary foot ; 

A little while 

Still plan and smile, 

And, — fault of novel germs,— 

Mature the unfallen fruit. 

Curse, if thou wilt thy sires, 

Bad husbands of their fires, 

Who, when they gave thee breath, 

Failed to bequeath 

The needful sinew stark at once, 

tThe Baresark marrow to the bones, 

But left a legacy of ebbing veins, 

Inconstant heat and nerveless reins, — 

Amid the Muses, left thee deaf and dumb, 

Amid the gladiators, halt and numb." 

As the bird trims her to the gale, 
I trim myself to the storm of time, 



THE PROOF 209 

I man the rudder, reef the sail, 

Obey the voice at eve obeyed at prime : 

" Lowly faithful, banish fear, 

Right onward drive unharmed: 

The port, well worth the cruise, is near, 

And every wave is charmed." 



THE PROOF* 

BY LUCY LARCOM 

Impossible,— the eagle's flight! 

A body lift itself in air? 
Yet see, he soars away from sight! — 

Can mortals with the immortal share? 
To argue it were wordy strife; 
Life only is the proof of life. 

Duration, circumstances, things, — 
These measure not the eternal state : 

Ah, cease from thy vain questionings 
Whether an after-life await! 

Rise thou from self to God, and see 

That immortality must be ! 

* By permission of Houghton Mifflin Co. 



2io EASTER 

AT LAST* 

BY PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE 

In youth, when blood was warm and fancy high, 
I mocked at Death. How many a quaint conceit 
I wove about his veiled head and feet, 
Vaunting aloud, "Why need we dread to die?" 
But now, enthralled by deep solemnity, 
Death's pale, phantasmal shade I darkly greet; 
Ghostlike it haunts the hearth, it haunts the street, 
Or drearier makes drear midnight's mystery. 
Ah, soul-perplexing vision ! oft I deem 
That antique myth is true which pictured Death 
A masked and hideous form all shrank to see; 
But at the last slow ebb of mortal breath, 
Death, his mask melting like a nightmare dream, 
Smiled, — heaven's High-Priest of Immortality! 

* By permission of Funk & Wagnalls Co. 

THE LIGHTS OF HOME* 

BY ALFRED NOYES 

Pilot, how far from home? — 
Not far, not far to-night, 
A flight of spray, a sea-bird's flight, 

A flight of tossing foam, 

And then the lights of home! — 

* From " The Golden Hynde," by permission of The Mac- 
tnillan Company. 



CROSSING THE BAR 211 

And yet again how far? 

Seems you the way so brief? 

Those lights beyond the roaring reef 
Were lights of moon and star, 

Far, far, none knows how far ! 

Pilot, how far from home? — 
The great stars pass away 
Before Him as a flight of spray, 

Moons as a flight of foam! 
I see the lights of home. 

Let every man and woman count himself immortal. 
Let him catch the revelation of Jesus in his resurrec- 
tion. Let him say not merely, " Christ has risen," but 
" I shall rise/' Not merely, " He, underneath all death 
and change, was unchangeable/' but " In me there is 
something that no stain of earth can tarnish and no 
stroke of the world can bruise. I, too, am a part of 
God and have God's immortality in me." Then nobil- 
ity must come. 

Phillips Brooks. 



CROSSING THE BAR 

BY ALFRED TENNYSON 

Sunset and evening star, 

And one clear call for me! 
And may there be no moaning of the bar 
, When I put out to sea; 



212 EASTER 

But such a tide as moving seems asleep, 

Too full for sound and foam, 
When that which drew from out the boundless deep, 

Turns again home. 

Twilight, and evening bells, — 

And after that the dark! 
And may there be no sadness of farewells 

When I embark; 

For though from out our bourne of Time and Place 

The floods may bear me far, 
I hope to see my Pilot face to face, 

When I have crossed the bar. 



V 
FICTION AND DRAMA 



AN EASTER JOKE 

BY KATHARINE MCDOWELL RICE 

"If you'll promise never to tell," said the little sister. 

At which Tom echoed in a deep stage voice " Never 
to tell " and made with his hand mysterious passes in 
the region of his heart and throat. 

" It's an Easter present." She was holding some- 
thing behind her. 

" Thank you very much," bowed Tom impressively, 
then put out his hand. 

" But it's not for you." 

" Not for me ! " in feigned astonishment. Then 
loftily as he took a step backward, " For whom then? " 

" The box will tell you," she said gayly as she pro- 
duced a long narrow box. 

Tom bent his ear down to the box and listened. 
" Nothing doing," he announced. 

Hester laughed. She always laughed a great deal 
over what Tom said and did. She lifted the cover of 
the box. 

"Whew!" said Tom admiringly. 

He saw six daintily tinted eggs each with an initial, 
lying there side by side in the box each in its bed 
of soft pink cotton. The letters made the word 
" Mother." 

Tom took the box from her for closer inspection. 
215 



216 EASTER 

"Where'd you find them ?" 

" At the new drug store. They've got them in for 
Easter." 

" They've got taken in for Easter," said Tom with 
mock solemnity as he returned the box. " That's too 
bad." 

"You're always teasing," she said and turned to 
go away. 

" No, no, don't go," said Tom catching a curl, 
" Come back and tell me more." 

Hester was delighted to return. It was so nice if 
Tom were really interested. She proceeded to tell 
him all about it in a rather low voice lest they should 
be overheard. 

" Helen Ward and I saw them in the window yes- 
terday and Helen got some for Susie. She hadn't 
enough money with her for five eggs so she just got 
three letters to make * S. U. E.' and the clerk put them 
in the cunningest little box you ever saw." 

" H'm,",said Tom, " I'd like to get into that box and 
change those letters around before Easter." 

" Change them around ! " 

" Yes. Make them read ' U. S. E/ instead. That 
would show little Miss Sue that she must get busy 
and make a cake or something with her three eggs." 

"Oh, Tom, you wouldn't!" 

"Wouldn't what?" 

" Play a joke on her." 

" Sure ! An Easter joke ? Just the thing." 

A moment after Tom snapped his fingers and went 
to the window. He was quietly laughing to himself. 



AN EASTER JOKE 217 

He had discovered that the letters in Hester's box 
made the words " Her Tom." A plan shot through 
his mind of changing them about and briefly posing 
himself as the donor. He came back. 

Hester had been occupied in putting the cover on the 
box. 

" How do you plan giving the enclosed to the en- 
closed? " said Tom as he lightly tapped the cover. 

It took her a moment to understand. Then she 
laughed. How amusing Tom was! No wonder the 
girls all said she had the nicest brother of all. If only; 
he wouldn't tease her so much ! 

" I had thought of putting it under mamma's pil- 
low," she confided. 

Tom was apparently in deep thought. "Why not 
have Mary bring it in at breakfast with the Sunday 
newspapers ? " he said. 

" Perhaps that would be better," said the unsuspect- 
ing Hester. 

" Making it more of an Easter joke," said Tom. 

Hester looked a little troubled, so Tom hastened to 
explain, " Something we can all enjoy instead of 
mother's just finding it by herself. You don't want 
to keep the day too solemn," Tom went on with af- 
fected lightness. " There are lots of amusing things 
about Easter. There's a joke about the hare, you 
know. He's always on Easter cards. Some people 
make a very jolly day of it ; didn't you know that? " 

" I know that children roll eggs at the White House," 
said Hester, glad that she could impart some informa- 
tion to her big brother about Easter ceremonies, " but 



2i8 EASTER 

I remember now that doesn't come till Easter Mon- 
day." 

" We couldn't do that anyway," said Tom solemnly, 
" 'cause we live in a brown house." 

Hester half laughed. She never quite knew whether 
Tom meant things or not. He was still looking very 
serious as he regarded the box of Easter eggs. She 
had to stand on tip-toe to look with him. 

" If the box comes in with the newspapers I must 
put a heavy paper on it, mustn't I? To look as if it 
had been left at the door ? " 

Tom brightened. " Let me do that," he said. " I'll 
fix it up in fine shape for you." 

"Oh, Tom, would you?" and she unhesitatingly 
left the box in his hands. " Thank you ever so much," 
and she ran away hearing her mother's voice in the 
distance. 

Tom wished she had not said those last words. 

When Easter morning came, Mary brought in the 
newspapers to the family seated at breakfast. She 
had also in her arms a gayly tied box. She started to 
hand it to Hester. 

" Oh, not to me," said Hester in a low voice ; " it's 
for mamma. Put it at mamma's place," and she mo- 
tioned Mary away. 

"But it's addressed to you," laughed Tom, as he 
took the box and laid it at her plate. "An Easter 
joke." 

"Oh, Tom, how could you?" and her eyes filled 
with tears. 

" Here is mother's box," said Tom, and from under 



THE FLAX 219 

the newspapers he brought a second box of the same 
size and tied in the same way and with a flourish de- 
posited it at his mother's plate. 

Hester breathless ran to watch her open it. There 
lay the six pretty eggs on their pretty beds of cotton 
making the word " Mother " and Tom had fancifully 
printed on a card which dropped out from the edge of 
the box when opened, "Best Easter Wishes from 
Hester " and now her mother was kissing and thanking 
her. 

" You haven't looked into your own box," said Tom. 

" Oh, I know it's filled with sawdust or pebbles or 
something," said Hester as she ran back to her own 
place, " but I don't care what Easter joke you've played 
on me so long as you didn't do anything to mamma's 
box." 

" I never touched mother's box," said Tom, happy 
that he could say the words. 

Hester opened her own. There lay the six letters 
of her own name, they too in daintiest coloring, they 
too in their little beds of cotton, and on the inside of 
the cover were the words " From Her Tom." 

"Oh, mamma see ! " she cried. Then, " Oh, Tom," 
and her arms were about his neck, " My Tom ! " 



THE FLAX 

BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN 

The Flax was in full bloom ; it had pretty little blue 
flowers, as delicate as the wings of a moth, or even 



220 



EASTER 



more so. The sun shone, and the showers watered it ; 
and this was just as good for the Flax as it is for little 
children to be washed and then kissed by their mother. 
They look much prettier for it, and so did the Flax. 

" People say that I look exceedingly well," said the 
Flax, " and that I am so fine and long that I shall 
make a beautiful piece of linen. How fortunate I 
am ; it makes me so happy, it is such a pleasant thing 
to know that something can be made of me. How the 
sunshine cheers me, and how sweet and refreshing is 
the rain ; my happiness overpowers me, no one in the 
world can feel happier than I am." 

"Ah, yes, no doubt," said the Fern, "but you do 
not know the world yet as well as I do, for my sticks 
are knotty ; " and then it sang quite mournfully — 

"Snip, snap, snurre, 
Basse lurre: 
The song is ended." 

" No, it is not ended," said the Flax. " To-morrow 
the sun will shine, or the rain descend. I feel that I 
am growing. I feel that I am in full blossom. I am 
the happiest of all creatures." 

Well, one day some people came, who took hold of 
the Flax and pulled it up by the roots ; this was pain- 
ful; then it was laid in water as if they intended to 
drown it; and, after that, placed near a fire as if it 
were to be roasted ; all this was very shocking. " We 
cannot expect to be happy always," said the Flax; 
"by experiencing evil, as well as good, we become 
wise." And certainly there was plenty of evil in store 



THE FLAX 221 

for the Flax. It was steeped, and roasted, and broken, 
and combed, indeed, it scarcely knew what was done 
to it. At last it was put on the spinning wheel. 
"Whirr, whirr/' went the wheel so quickly that the 
Flax could not collect its thoughts. "Well, I have 
been very happy/' he thought in the midst of his pain, 
" and must be contented with the past ; " and contented 
he remained till he was put on the loom, and became 
a beautiful piece of white Linen. All the Flax, even 
to the last stalk, was used in making this one piece. 
"Well, this is quite wonderful; I could not have 
believed that I should be so favored by fortune. The 
Fern really was not wrong with its song of 

' Snip, snap, snurre, 
Basse lurre.' 

But the song is not ended yet, I am sure; it is only 
just beginning. How wonderful it is that, after all 
I have suffered, I am made something of at last ; I am 
the luckiest person in the world — so strong and fine ; 
and how white, and what a length ! This is something 
different to being a mere plant and bearing flowers. 
Then, I had no attention, nor any water unless it 
rained ; now, I am watched and taken care of. Every 
morning the maid turns me over, and I have a shower 
bath from the watering pot every evening. Yes, and 
the clergyman's wife noticed me, and said I was the 
best piece of Linen in the whole parish. I cannot be 
happier than I am now." 

After some time, the Linen was taken into the house, 
placed under the scissors, and cut and torn into pieces, 



222 EASTER 

and then pricked with needles. This certainly was not 
pleasant ; but at last it was made into twelve garments. 
"See, now, then," said the Flax; "I have become 
something of importance. This was my destiny ; it is 
quite a blessing. Now I shall be of some use in the 
world, as every one ought to be ; it is the only way to 
be happy. I am now divided into twelve pieces, and 
yet we are all one and the same in the whole dozen. 
It is most extraordinary good fortune/' 

Years passed away; and at last the Linen was so 
worn it could scarcely hold together. "It must end 
very soon," said the pieces to each other; "we would 
gladly have held together a little longer, but it is use- 
less to expect impossibilities." And at length they 
fell into rags and tatters, and thought it was all over 
with them, for they were torn to shreds, and steeped in 
water, and made into a pulp, and dried, and they knew 
not what besides, till all at once they found themselves 
beautiful white paper. "Well, now, this is a sur- 
prise ; a glorious surprise, too," said the Paper. " I 
am now finer than ever, and I shall be written upon, 
and who can tell what fine things I may have written 
upon me. This is wonderful luck ! " And sure 
enough, the most beautiful stories and poetry were 
written upon it, and only once was there a blot, which 
was very fortunate. Then people heard the stories and 
poetry read, and it made them wiser and better; for 
all that was written had a good and sensible meaning, 
and a great blessing was contained in the words on 
this Paper. 

"I never imagined anything like this," said the 



JHE FLAX 223 

Paper, " when I was only a little blue flower, growing 
in the fields. How could I fancy that I should ever 
be the means of bringing knowledge and joy to men? 
I cannot understand it myself, and yet it is really so. 
Heaven knows that I have done nothing myself, but 
what I was obliged to do with my weak powers for 
my own preservation; and yet I have been promoted 
from one joy and honor to another. Each time I think 
that the song is ended; and then something higher and 
better begins for me. I suppose now I shall be sent 
on my travels about the world, so that people may 
read me. It cannot be otherwise; indeed, it is more 
than probable; for I have more splendid thoughts 
written upon me than I had pretty flowers in olden 
times. I am happier than ever." 

But the Paper did not go on its travels ; it was sent 
to the printer, and all the words written upon it were 
set up in type, to make a book, or rather, many hun- 
dreds of books ; for so many more persons could derive 
pleasure and profit from a printed book than from the 
written paper; and if the Paper had been sent about 
the world, it would have been worn out before it had 
got half through its journey. 

" This is certainly the wisest plan," said the written 
Paper ; " I really did not think of that. I shall remain 
at home, and be held in honor, like some old grand- 
father, as I really am to all these new books. They 
will do some good. I could not have wandered about 
as they do. Yet he who wrote all this has looked at 
me, as every word flowed from his pen upon my sur- 
face. I am the most honored of all." 



224 EASTER 

Then the Paper was tied in a bundle with other 
papers, and thrown into a tub that stood in the wash- 
house. 

"After work, it is well to rest," said the Paper, 
" and a very good opportunity to collect one's thoughts. 
Now I am able, for the first time, to think of my real 
condition; and to know one's self is true progress. 
What will be done with me now, I wonder ? No doubt 
I shall still go forward. I have always progressed 
hitherto, as I know quite well." 

Now it happened one day that all the paper in the 
tub was taken out, and laid on the hearth to be burnt. 
People said it could not be sold at the shop, to wrap 
up butter and sugar, because it had been written upon. 
The children in the house stood round the stove; for 
they wanted to see the paper burn, because it flamed 
up so prettily, and afterwards, among the ashes, so 
many red sparks could be seen running one after the 
other, here and there, as quick as the wind. They 
called it seeing the children come out of school, and the 
last spark was the schoolmaster. They often thought 
the last spark had come ; and one would cry, " There 
goes the schoolmaster ; " but the next moment another 
spark would appear, shining so beautifully. How they 
would like to know where the sparks all went to! 
Perhaps we shall find out some day, but we don't know 
now. 

The whole bundle of paper had been placed on the 
fire, and was soon alight. "Ugh," cried the Paper, 
as it burst into a bright flame ; " ugh." It was cer- 
tainly not very pleasant to be burning; but when the; 



THE FLAX '225 

whole was wrapped in flames, the flames mounted up 
into the air, higher than the flax had ever been able to 
raise its little blue flower, and they glistened as the 
white linen never could have glistened. All the writ- 
ten letters became quite red in a moment, and all the 
words and thoughts turned to fire. 

" Now I am mounting straight up to the sun," said 
a voice in the flames; and it was as if a thousand 
voices echoed the words; and the flames darted up 
through the chimney, and went out at the top. Then 
a number of tiny beings, as many in number as the 
flowers on the flax had been, and invisible to mortal 
eyes, floated above them. They were even lighter and 
more delicate than the flowers from which they were 
born; and as the flames were extinguished, and noth- 
ing remained of the paper but black ashes, these little 
beings danced upon it; and whenever they touched it, 
bright red sparks appeared. 

" The children are all out of school, and the school- 
master was the last of all," said the children. It was 
good fun, and they sang over the dead ashes — 

" Snip, snap, snurre, 
Basse lurre: 
The song is ended." 

But the little invisible beings said: "The song is 
never ended ; the most beautiful is yet to come." 

But the children could neither hear nor understand 
this, nor should they; for children must not know 
everything. 



226 EASTER 

THE LARK 

BY FREDERIC A. KRUMMACHER 

A countryman walked with his son into the fields 
during the fresh and balmy hour of a summer's morn- 
ing. The cool breeze played with the silvery hair of 
the old man, and wafted the dust of the flowers like 
a light cloud over the waving grain. 

Then said the old man : " Behold, how busy Nature 
is in our behalf! The same breeze which cools our 
brow produces the fertility of the field, that our garners 
may be filled. Eighty times have I seen this, and yet 
it is as lovely to me as if I saw it to-day for the first 
time. Perhaps it may be the last time ; for have I not 
reached the fullness of human life?" 

Thus the old man said ; then his son took his hand, 
and looked sorrowful. 

But the father said : " Why wilt thou mourn ? Be- 
hold, my day is far spent, and my evening is come. 
Night must pass before a new day can rise. But it 
will be to me like a cool and lovely summer night, 
where the dawn of morning meets the close of the 
evening twilight." 

"Alas, my father," said the son, "how canst thou 
talk of that so calmly which will be the greatest sorrow 
to us? Thou gavest me an image of thy death; give 
me now also an image of thy life, my father." 

Then the old man replied : " I can easily do that ; 
for the life of a countryman is simple, like Nature 
which surrounds him. Dost thou behold the lark, 



THE LARK 227 

how it rises warbling from the corn-field ? Not in vain 
does she soar so near to the countryman, for she is the 
image of his life. Behold, born in the lap of the 
motherly earth, she keeps to the nourishing furrow. 
She builds her nest between the waving blades, and 
hatches and brings up her young ones there, and the 
animating odor of the green field gives strength to 
her wing, and to the voice of her bosom. Now she 
soars up to heaven, looking down from above on the 
blades and ears, and on the fostering earth, and look- 
ing upwards to the light which makes the blades grow, 
and to the clouds which send down rain and dew. 
When the morning scarce begins to dawn, she is al- 
ready on the wing to greet the first messenger of com- 
ing day; and when the sun sets, she rises once more, 
to inhale the last ray of the celestial day-star. Thus 
she lives a double life : the one a life of calm and silent 
work under the shade of the nourishing furrow and the 
verdant blades ; the other a life of singing and flutter- 
ing in the purer regions of a higher world of light. 
But both these lives are one, and closely united. The 
inferior gives her the desire to elevate herself, and the 
superior inspires her with courage to labor silently 
and cheerfully." 

Thus said the old man. The son pressed the hand 
of his father fervently, and said : " Yes, my father, 
thus was thy life ! O that we may yet enjoy it long! " 

Then the old man answered : " Earth is too heavy 
for me now ! Why will you grudge me the higher life 
of fulfillment and of unchangeable endless light? The 
day is growing sultry. Come let us return home." 



228 EASTER 

OLD AGE 

BY FREDERIC A. KRUMMACHER 

Siegfried, a countryman of ninety winters, sat in 
his arm-chair, and saw not the light of day, for he was 
blind. But he was patient, and thought in his heart: 
"The day of my deliverance will soon appear." It 
was then the time of spring. 

His grandson, Herman, came from the field, and 
began to speak cheerfully to the old man of the promis- 
ing year, and the hope of a rich harvest. Now the old 
man asked : " Have the trees put forth leaves ? " 

The youth was surprised, and said : " Long ago, 
dear grandfather : it was but yesterday that I brought 
you a spray of flowers, and a rose." 

Then Siegfried smiled, and said: "Yes, my dear 
son, to-day and yesterday are no more for me. The 
flowers too, have lost their fragrance for me." Then 
he asked again : " Do the larks and nightingales sing ? " 
And the youth stooped down to him, for his ear was 
dull, and said : " Yes, dear grandfather ; shall I lead 
you into the garden ? " 

The old man smiled again, and said : " If, indeed, 
you could lend me your hearing at the same time. But 
now what would it profit me if you were to take me 
there?" Then he said: "You may go out again, 
Herman; but send little Gertrude here, that some one 
may be with me in the dark chamber." 

Then the youth said, with a voice of sorrow : " Alas, 
dearest grandfather, she is not at home! " 



RIGHT ABOUT FACE 229 

"Where is the dear child, then?" asked the old 
man ; and the youth answered, sobbing : " She was 
buried three months ago." 

Then the old man smiled and wept at once, and 
said : " Oh, then she is indeed at home, and it is time 
that I should follow her." 

When the mother of the family, the old man's 
daughter, who had entered the chamber in the mean- 
time, heard this, she fell on her blind father's neck, and 
her tears flowed, and Herman wept too, and took the 
hand of the old man. 

Then he lifted up his voice and said : " Mourn not, 
dear children, and let it not trouble you that time and 
the world have vanished from me, and that I am be- 
come a child again, and standing on the threshold of 
eternity, and my face is turned towards home. The 
fashion of earthly things and this pilgrim's path have 
vanished from my sight. Yonder I shall see once 
more, and with purer eyes." 



RIGHT ABOUT FACE AT THE OLD FIRST* 

BY HAYNES LORD 

The meeting of the Trustees that evening at Deacon 
Gray's — held at his suggestion — was quite informal. 
A few days before, as he chanced to meet one and 
another of his associates on the Board, the Deacon 
had remarked, " It is my opinion that we should come 
together soon for a quiet conference ; questions relative 

* By permission of The Congregationalist. 



230 EASTER 

to the business and welfare of the Society should be 
thoroughly discussed; we may find that certain matters 
call for full inquiry and prompt attention ; what is your 
view ? " 

Apparently all his fellow-members sympathized with 
the suggestions made, for not one was absent when the 
gathering took place. 

"Well, gentlemen," broke in Judge Prindle, when 
time had elapsed for first greetings and commonplace 
exchanges, " we are here this evening, of course, for a 
definite purpose. Our coming together is strictly in- 
formal. Yet, in fact— -ahem! — if I may be per- 
mitted to say so — we are somewhat irregular in hold- 
ing what might pass as a stated meeting of our Board 
without due notification of the same, through the Sec- 
retary, to the pastor and to each member individually. 
However, perhaps no harm will come of it. Suppose 
we take up any business in hand." 

At this juncture all eyes were turned upon Deacon 
Gray as the one from whom an explanatory statement 
might naturally be expected. Pausing a moment to 
collect his thoughts, and with some slight hesitation, 
the good deacon began. 

"You are aware, my friends, that besides having 
deeply at heart the best interests of old First Church 
we all feel strongly the responsible obligation of our 
official connection. Am I not right? Then without 
mincing words I venture to say we share just now a 
common anxiety and regret as to the existing state of 
affairs in our Society. For some time, things as they 
have transpired — perhaps I should say as they have 



RIGHT ABOUT FACE 231 

not transpired — have given us cause for dissatisfac- 
tion. You know as well as I that the attendance on 
the Sabbath services and at prayer meeting has fallen 
off. Hearty interest in the Sabbath school and the 
weekly Bible class has been steadily waning. Also many 
have entered complaints about receiving so few pastoral 
calls. And only yesterday the Treasurer brought his 
books to my office to point out the large decrease in our 
financial receipts this fiscal year, from all sources, ask- 
ing what he could do about it. Do not think for a mo- 
ment that I wish to reflect unkindly upon our pastor 
whom we respect highly for many estimable qualities 
and a certain persistent effort; yet as the head of the 
Society and our leader I suppose he must be held mainly 
responsible for the present situation. As you have 
thrown the initiative upon me I feel compelled to speak 
in all plainness. Now I have had my say ; will you not 
on your part make an equally frank expression of your 
sentiments ? " 

After a brief silence an animated and general dis- 
cussion ensued, shared by all but one in the room. At 
times one voice commanding general attention would' 
review, in still fuller detail, what evidently seemed the 
downward trend of church affairs and the discouraging 
outlook. Or again — of such absorbing concern were 
the matters under consideration — a hum of voices 
rendered it quite impossible to distinguish individual 
expressions. There was a lull, however, and close at- 
tention when Dr. Rowley, who was always listened to 
with deference, touched upon a point of a quite differ- 
ent nature, 



232 EASTER 

" I am really ashamed to speak of such things, and 
yet I was much distressed last week when I happened 
to meet our pastor and noticed how shabbily he was 
dressed. To be sure we are not in the fashion our- 
selves — at least we men are not — but the Society 
must maintain its good old traditions ; and, for one, I 
want to see our minister dressed always as a gentle- 
man and a clergyman. How can he hold up his head 
and maintain his influence, with a certain class at least, 
if he allows himself to be neglectful in proper, every- 
day amenities ? " 

" Mr. Carlington," said Deacon Gray suddenly, 
turning in his chair to address a quiet, keen-eyed man 
on his right, " I do believe you have not said a word 
to-night. In the warmth of our conversation I had 
failed till now to realize this. You have always been 
one of our hard workers, one of the Society's men al- 
ways to be depended upon; do not hesitate to speak 
your mind freely." 

There was something in the unassuming yet digni- 
fied, self-possessed bearing of the man addressed that 
led all eyes in his direction. Evidently, too, Mr. Car- 
lington had been quietly awaiting his opportunity to 
be heard. And before beginning he glanced from one 
to another as though asking unprejudiced attention. 

" Gentleman " — clearing his voice — " thus far I 
have been a listener only, yet let me say I am in full 
sympathy with this meeting of the Board if I clearly 
understand its true purpose. I agree with you that 
matters and affairs in the Society are not as prosper- 
ous and encouraging as we could wish, It would seem 



RIGHT ABOUT FACE 233 

our plain present duty to face the situation planning if 
possible remedial action. Now if this gathering had 
been held a week ago I should doubtless have joined 
voice, in a like spirit, in the criticism so freely ex- 
pressed, pointing it, too, in a like direction. For cer- 
tain reasons, however, I have come to another view of 
the whole subject. Next Sunday is Easter, you know, 
and if you will not be shocked I should like, here and 
now, to make my Easter Confession." 

A smile on more than one face, and a humorous 
gesture of deprecation from Deacon Gray. 

"You see, gentlemen," Mr. Carlington resumed, 
" Rev. Mr. Brown, our pastor, and I were college class- 
mates. This fact has no doubt unconsciously strength- 
ened, on personal grounds, our otherwise close ties in 
the society. Yet latterly I fear I had begun to enter- 
tain towards him and towards his apparent lack of suc- 
cess very much such feelings as you have expressed. 
But now everything appears to me in a changed light. 
Many circumstances have brought me to reflection and 
this Easter Confession. As one matter — last Friday 
George Erman, one of our railroad members who has 
just come through a hard pull of pneumonia, wanted to 
borrow $50. Why, do you suppose? To return this 
sum to Mr. Brown, who had generously befriended 
him in his sore straits some weeks ago. 

" Like Dr. Rowley I had more than once made an 
inward comment about our pastor's need of an early 
visit to the tailor ; now I knew why perhaps this visit 
had been postponed. Further reflection led to the 
conclusion that $1,000 a year with our large parsonage 



234 EASTER 

— a parson's many extra demands considered — is cer- 
tainly not a sinecure to a man with a wife and four 
children. It shamed me, too, to admit that one mem- 
ber of First Church — and a trustee at that — would 
do well to send a check for arrears to the treasurer. 
Added to the rest, I recalled the fact of a last sum- 
mer's interview in which Mr. Brown, troubled by the 
Superintendent's unexpected resignation, had begged 
earnestly for my help in the Sabbath school. I told 
him I was too busy, and that he must excuse me. So 
putting two and two together — I don't speak of cer- 
tain sharp inward prickings — I felt a good full frank 
confession to somebody was what I first needed, then 
a change of base. New light dawned upon me, about 
the condition of our society and about our pastor." 

Another silence ; this time prolonged and even more 
significant ! It was broken at length by the Deacon. 

"Easter Confessions," he began, "not to speak 
lightly, seem to be in order this evening. As a mem- 
ber of the Board, and the one mainly responsible for 
this meeting, I, too, confess to some hard thinking and 
self-searchings over Mr. Carlington's manly statement. 
Yet so far from regretting the gathering this evening, 
its inspiration I believe finds a higher source than my 
brain. Whatever our first purpose, my feeling now is 
that we shall justify happily this frank conference. 
First of all, I shall see Mr. Brown to-morrow and tell 
him I hope I shall not need any more gentle reminders 
about absences from prayer meeting, that he may count 
on one man more anyway; also that he may look to 
me hereafter in all ways to uphold his hands. And 



RIGHT ABOUT FACE 235 

before going to business in the morning, I purpose call- 
ing on our treasurer, requesting him to open his books 
once more, and this time at my name. What have I 
been thinking about this long time, I wonder, one of 
the oldest members and senior deacon of the society! 
I know one thing that has been out of joint in the old 
First!" A look of poignant regret swept over the 
speaker's face. He had truly made his confession and 
he meant it. 

What followed proved that there were twelve good 
men and true on the Board of First Church. Judge 
Prindle, Mr. Redmoor, Mr. Horton and others vied 
with each other in haste to take his turn on the peni- 
tent's stool. They saw now, they said, how greatly 
remiss they had been in personal effort in many direc- 
tions; no wonder a society can run down hill in a 
short time if one man is left to work alone. It was 
plain, too, that the society's treasurer would be kept 
busy the next day. If all that was said with such a 
ring of genuine sincerity could have been graphophoned 
to the parsonage study it would assuredly have carried 
a store of cheer to its down-hearted occupant. 

"May I claim the last word?" said Dr. Rowley. 
" How a little wholesome common sense with a touch 
of the true leaven clears one's mental and moral at- 
mosphere. I know I am a better man for this meeting. 
I know the old First is all at once in a wonderfully 
better condition. And just to think I could be so 
blind at the time as not to see that Mr. Brown sacri- 
ficed more than half of his last summer's vacation 
because he would not leave those Wentner children 



236 EASTER 

during the scarlet fever scare! Now I see this and 
a good deal besides. ... If they are in order, gentle- 
men, I shall be glad to offer two resolutions. 

" Resolved, That the Trustees of First Church, sen- 
sible of his proper claim upon them, do hereby heartily 
tender their pastor any assistance he may need in the 
general work of the society. 

"Resolved, That Deacon Gray and Judge Prindle 
be and hereby are a committee to provide and present 
to Rev. Mr. Brown, on Easter morning, a generous 
purse of money as a token of the society's esteem and 
affectionate appreciation." 

Every member gave a cordial affirmative. 

That Easter Sunday, as so many afterwards re- 
marked, was a day long to be remembered in its bright- 
ness and blessedness in old First Church. 



A LESSON OF FAITH 

BY MARGARET GATTY 

" Let me hire you as a nurse for my poor children," 
said a Butterfly to a quiet Caterpillar, who was stroll- 
ing along a cabbage leaf in her odd, lumbering way. 
" See these little eggs," continued the Butterfly ; " I 
don't know how long it will be before they come to 
life, and I feel very sick and poorly, and if I should 
die, who will take care of my baby Butterflies when I 
am gone? Will you, kind, mild, green Caterpillar? 
But you must mind what you give them to eat, Cater- 



A LESSON OF FAITH 237 

pillar! — they cannot, of course, live on your rough 
food. You must give them early dew, and honey from 
the flowers ; and you must let them fly about only a 
little way at first; for, of course, one can't expect them 
to use their wings properly all at once. Dear me ! it is 
a sad pity you cannot fly yourself. But I have no time 
to look for another nurse now, so you will do your 
best, I hope. Dear! dear! I cannot think what made 
me come and lay my eggs on a cabbage leaf ! What a 
place for young Butterflies to be born upon! Still 
you will be kind, will you not, to the poor little ones ? 
Here, take this gold-dust from my wings as a reward. 
Ohj how dizzy I am ! Caterpillar, you will remember 
about the food " — 

And with these words the Butterfly drooped her 
wings and died; and the green Caterpillar, who had 
not had the opportunity of even saying yes or no to 
the request, was left standing alone by the side of the 
Butterfly's eggs. 

" A pretty nurse she has chosen, indeed, poor lady ! " 
exclaimed she, " and a pretty business I have in hand ! 
Why, her senses must have left her, or she never 
would have asked a poor, crawling creature like me to 
bring up her dainty little ones ! Much they'll mind me, 
truly, when they feel the gay wings on their backs, and 
can fly away out of my sight whenever they choose! 
Ah ! how silly some people are, in spite of their painted 
clothes and the gold-dust on their wings ! " 

However, the poor Butterfly was dead, and there 
lay the eggs on the cabbage leaf ; and the green Cater- 
pillar had a kind heart, so she resolved to do her best. 



238 EASTER 

But she got no sleep that night, she was so very 
anxious. She made her back quite ache with walking 
all night round her young charges, for fear any harm 
should happen to them ; and in the morning, says she to 
herself: "Two heads are better than one. I will 
consult some wise animal upon the matter, and get 
advice. How should a poor, crawling creature like me 
know what to do without asking my betters ? " 

But still there was a difficulty — whom should the 
Caterpillar consult? There was the shaggy Dog who 
sometimes came into the garden. But he was so 
rough ! — he would most likely whisk all the eggs off 
the cabbage leaf with one brush of his tail, if she called 
him near to talk to her, and then she would never for- 
give herself. There was the Tom Cat, to be sure, who 
would sometimes sit at the foot of the apple tree, 
basking himself and warming his fur in the sunshine ; 
but he was so selfish and indifferent ! — there was no 
hope of his giving himself the trouble to think about 
Butterflies' eggs. " I wonder which is the wisest of 
all the animals I know/' sighed the Caterpillar in great 
distress ; and then she thought, and thought, till at last 
she thought of the Lark ; and she fancied that because 
he went up so high, and nobody knew where he went 
to, he must must be very clever and know a great 
deal; for to go up very high (which she could never 
do) was the Caterpillar's idea of perfect glory. 

Now in the neighboring cornfield there lived a Lark, 
and the Caterpillar sent a message to him, to beg him 
to come and talk to her; and when he came she told 
him all her difficulties, and asked him what she was to 



A LESSON OF FAITH 239 

do to feed and rear the little creatures so different from 
herself. 

" Perhaps you will be able to inquire and hear some- 
thing about it next time you go up high," observed the 
Caterpillar, timidly. 

The Lark said, " Perhaps he should ; " but he did not 
satisfy her curiosity any further. Soon afterwards, 
however, he went singing upwards into the bright blue 
sky. By degrees his voice died away in the distance, 
till the green Caterpillar could not hear a sound. It is 
nothing to say she could not see him ; for, poor thing ! 
she never could see far at any time, and had a difficulty 
in looking upwards at all, even when she reared herself 
up most carefully, which she did now ; but it was of no 
use, so she dropped upon her legs again, and resumed 
her walk round the Butterfly's eggs, nibbling a bit of 
the cabbage leaf now and then as she moved along. 

" What a time the Lark has been gone ! " she cried 
at last. "I wonder where he is just now! I would 
give all my legs to know! He must have flown up 
higher than usual this time, I do think. How I should 
like to know where it is that he goes to and what he 
hears in that curious blue sky! He always sings in 
going up and coming down, but he never lets any 
secret out. He is very, very close ! " 

And the green Caterpillar took another turn round 
the Butterfly's eggs. 

At last the Lark's voice began to be heard again. 
The Caterpillar almost jumped for joy, and it was not 
long before she saw her friend descend with hushed 
note to the cabbage bed. 



240 EASTER 

" News, news, glorious news, friend Caterpillar ! " 
sang the Lark ; " but the worst of it is, you won't be- 
lieve me." 

" I believe everything I am told," observed the Cater- 
pillar, hastily. 

" Well, then, first of all, I will tell you what these 
little creatures are to eat," and the Lark nodded his 
beak towards the eggs. " What do you think it is to 
be ? Guess ! " 

" Dew, and honey out of flowers, I am afraid," 
sighed the Caterpillar. 

" No such thing, old lady ! Something simpler than 
that. Something that you can get at quite eas- 
ily." 

" I can get at nothing quite easily but cabbage ' 
leaves," murmured the Caterpillar, in distress. 

" Excellent ! my good friend," cried the Lark, exult- 
ingly ; " you have found it out. You are to feed them 
with cabbage leaves." 

" Never ! " cried the Caterpillar, indignantly. " It 
was their dying mother's last request that I should do 
no such thing." 

" Their dying mother knew nothing about the mat- 
ter," persisted the Lark ; " but why do you ask me, and 
then disbelieve what I say? You have neither faith 
nor trust." 

" Oh ! I believe everything I am told," said the Cater- 
pillar. 

" Nay, but you do not," replied the Lark ; " you 
won't believe me even about the food, and yet that is 
but a beginning of what I have to tell you. Why, 



A LESSON OF FAITH 241 

Caterpillar, what do you think those little eggs will 
turn out to be ? " 

" Butterflies, to be sure," said the Caterpillar. 

" Caterpillars ! " sang the Lark ; " and you'll find it 
out in time ; " and the Lark flew away, for he did not 
want to stay and contest the point with his friend. 

"I thought the Lark had been wise and kind/' ob- 
served the mild, green Caterpillar, once more begin- 
ning to walk round the eggs, "but I find that he is 
foolish and saucy instead. Perhaps he went up too 
high this time. Ah, it's a pity when people who soar 
so high are silly and rude nevertheless! Dear! I 
still wonder whom he sees and what he does up yon- 
der." 

" I would tell you if you would believe me," sang 
the Lark, descending once more. 

" I believe everything I am told," persisted the 
Caterpillar, with as grave a face as if it were a fact. 

" Then I'll tell you something else," cried the Lark ; 
" for the best of my news remains behind : You will 
one day be a Butterfly yourself." 

" Wretched bird ! " exclaimed the Caterpillar, " you 
jest with my inferiority. Now you are cruel as well 
as foolish. Go away! I will ask your advice no 
more." 

" I told you you would not believe me," cried the 
Lark, nettled in his turn. 

" I believe everything I am told," persisted the 
Caterpillar ; " that is " — and she hesitated — " every- 
thing that is reasonable to believe. But to tell me that 
Butterflies' eggs are Caterpillars, and that Caterpillars 



242 EASTER 

leave off crawling and get wings, and become Butter- 
flies! — Lark! you are too wise to believe such non- 
sense yourself, you know it is impossible ! " 

" I know no such thing/' said the Lark, warmly. 
" Whether I hover over the cornfields of earth, or go 
up into the depths of the sky, I see so many wonderful 
things, I know no reason why there should not be more. 
O Caterpillar; it is because you crawl, because you 
never get beyond your cabbage leaf, that you call any 
thing impossible." 

" Nonsense ! " shouted the Caterpillar. " I know 
what's possible, and what's not possible, according to 
my experience and capacity, as well as you do. Look 
at my long, green body and these endless legs, and then 
talk to me about having wings and a painted feathery 
coat. Fool ! "— 

" And fool you ! you would-be-wise Caterpillar ! " 
cried the indignant Lark. " Fool, to attempt to reason 
about what you cannot understand ! Do you not hear 
how my song swells with rejoicing as I soar upwards 
to the mysterious wonder-world above? O Cater- 
pillar; what comes to you from thence, receive, as I 
do, upon trust." 

" That is what you call "— 

" Faith," interrupted the Lark. 

" How am I to learn faith ? " asked the Caterpillar. 

At that moment she felt something at her side. She 
looked round — eight or ten little green Caterpillars 
were moving about, and had already made a show of a 
hole in the cabbage leaf. They had broken from the 
Butterfly's eggs ! 



THE SNOWDROP 243 

Shame and amazement filled our green friend's 
heart, but joy soon followed; for, as the first wonder 
was possible, the second might be so, too. " Teach 
me your lesson, Lark ! " she would say ; and the Lark 
sang to her of the wonders of the earth below and of 
the heaven above. And the Caterpillar talked all the 
rest of her life to her relations of the time when she 
should be a Butterfly. 

But none of them believed her. She nevertheless 
had learned the Lark's lesson of faith, and when she 
was going into her chrysalis grave, she said : " I shall 
be a Butterfly some day ! " 

But her relations thought her head was wandering, 
and they said, " Poor thing ! " 

And when she was a Butterfly, and was going to 
die again, she said : " I have known many wonders — 
I have faith — I can trust even now for what shall 
come next." 

THE SNOWDROP* 

ADAPTED FROM HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN BY 
CAROLYN T. BAILEY 

The snow lay deep, for it was winter time. The 
winter winds blew cold, but there was one house where 
all was snug and warm. And in the house lay a little 
flower; in its bulb it lay, under the earth and the 
snow. 

One day the rain fell and it trickled through the 

* By permission of Milton, Bradley Company. 



244 EASTER 

ice and snow down into the ground. And presently 
a sunbeam, pointed and slender, pierced down through 
the ground and tapped on the bulb. 

" Come in," said the flower. 

" I can't do that," said the sunbeam ; " I'm not strong 
enough to lift the latch. I shall be stronger when the 
springtime comes." 

"When will it come spring?" asked the flower of 
every little sunbeam that rapped on its door, but for 
a long time it was winter. The ground was still 
covered with snow, and every night there was ice in 
the water. The flower grew quite tired of waiting. 

" How long it is ! " it said. " I feel quite cramped, 
I must stretch myself and rise up a little. I must lift 
the latch, and look out, and say ' good morning ' to the 
spring." 

So the flower pushed and pushed. The walls were 
softened by the rain and warmed by the little sun- 
beams, so the flower shot up from under the snow, with 
a pale green bud on its stalk and some long, narrow 
leaves on either side. It was biting cold. 

" You are a little too early," said the wind and the 
weather, but every sunbeam sang " Welcome," and the 
flower raised its head from the snow, and unfolded 
itself — pure and white, and decked with green stripes. 
It was weather to freeze it to pieces — such a delicate 
little flower — but it was stronger than any one knew. 
It stood in its white dress in the white snow, bowing 
its head when the snowflakes fell and raising it again 
to smile at the sunbeams. And every day it grew 
sweeter. 



MOTHER HUBBARD'S EASTER LILY 245 

" Oh," shouted the children, as they ran into the 
garden, " see the snowdrop ! There it stands so pretty, 
so beautiful — the first, the only one ! " 



MOTHER HUBBARD'S EASTER LILY 

BY MADGE A. BIGHAM ' 

" Why doesn't Mary Contrary plant me, I wonder ? " 
said a lily bulb, one cold, drizzly day. " Last year I 
had such beautiful blossoms, and I should like so much 
to have them ready again by Easter. Surely she has 
not forgotten me ! " 

" Stop fretting and go to sleep," said a blade of grass 
near by. " Do you not know that lily bulbs never 
bloom well the second year? I heard Mary Contrary 
say so. That is why you were thrown away. So go 
to sleep and keep quiet." 

" Dear me," said the lily bulb, " that is too bad. I'm 
sure I could grow if some one would only plant me. 
I shall send out my rootlets anyway, and maybe when 
Mary Contrary sees how hard I try she will plant me." 

And so she tried her very best. But just then Old 
Mother Hubbard's dog Fido came scampering through 
the grass, his cold, black nose sniffing the ground as 
he ran. He was hunting a bone, you know, and when 
he saw the fresh lily bulb, he stopped right still and 
wagged his tail. Fido looked at it very hard, turning 
it over and over with his shaggy paw. Then he tossed 
his head and said : " A potato ! A potato ! I have found 



246 EASTER 

a fine fat potato ! Mother Hubbard likes potatoes, so 
111 just carry her this one." 

And before the lily bulb could say one word, she was 
galloping down the street in Fido's mouth, frightened 
almost to death. At last he dropped her at Mother 
Hubbard's feet, wagged his tail and barked with joy. 
He knew how much she liked potatoes. 

''Where did you get that lily bulb, Fido?" said 
Mother Hubbard. " I hope you haven't been scratch- 
ing up Mary Contrary's garden. Where did you get 
it, sir?" 

Fido only wagged his tail more quickly, sat on his 
hind legs and crossed his front paws. 

That meant, "Upon my word and honor I have 
been good. Please give me a bone." 

So Mother Hubbard patted Fido on the head and 
went to the cupboard to get him a bone, but there 
wasn't any, so the poor dog had none. And Mother 
Hubbard went back and picked up the lily bulb, looking 
at it closely to see if Fido's sharp teeth had hurt it. 

" No," she said, shaking her head, " it is all right. 
Poor little thing ! it is trying its best to grow. I shall 
plant it and have it for my Easter lily. Maybe it will 
bloom." 

Trotting off to the cupboard again she got a pretty 
glass bowl and placed a handful of sand and rocks in 
the bottom. Then she planted the bulb carefully on 
them, covering it with fresh water, and placing it on 
the sunny window-seat to grow. And now the lily 
bulb was very, very happy. 

I only wish you could have seen her grow. Even 



EASTER BY THE ARNO 247 

Fido was surprised. He thought that a very queer 
way for Mother Hubbard to bake a potato. He 
wanted it covered in the ashes, and when done to have 
it for his supper. 

So every time Mother Hubbard brought fresh water 
to the lily bulb, Fido would catch her by the apron, 
bark and pull. Then he would run to the fireplace 
and scratch in the ashes, trying his very best to say, 
" Cook it, cook it ! " But Mother Hubbard would only 
laugh and say, " Down, sir ! Fido, you haven't one 
grain of sense. This is no potato." 

When Easter morning came, the first thing Mother 
Hubbard did was to open her eyes. The next thing 
she did was to look at her bulb, and the next thing she 
did was to smile and smile. 

Of course you know the reason why. Peeping from 
the rich, green leaves of the lily bulb was a most beau- 
tiful Easter lily. 

And that is what made Mother Hubbard smile. 



EASTER BY THE ARNO* 

BY ELIZABETH K. HALL 

A forlorn little figure stood at the window, and eyes 
that would not see any beauty looked out on the sunny 
street and river. Yet it was quite worth looking at, 
for the street was in old Florence, and the river was 
the Arno just at the point where the quaint old bridge 
called the Ponte Vecchio crosses it. 

*By permission of The Congregationalist. 



248 EASTER 

A lady came quietly behind and put an arm about 
the little girl. 

" Doris, dear/' she said, " I know you are disap- 
pointed, but try and make the best of it. We are in a 
beautiful city — " 

" Don't care ! " tearfully. " I don't want to see 
Florence or any other old place over here. I'm tired 
of it all. I thought Father and Mother would surely 
be here to meet us ; and I want to see Millbury, Massa- 
chusetts, and no other place in the wide world. O 
Miss May, just think! To-morrow's Easter, and at 
home to-day they are trimming the church, and the 
children are practicing their carols, and — " a burst of 
tears came, and the homesick little maid hid her face 
on her governess's shoulder. 

Miss May patted the brown braids gently. It was 
a little hard for the child. 

When, six months before, word had come to the 
home in Millbury that Doris's father, who had been 
traveling in Southern Europe, had been stricken with 
fever in Rome, there were but two thoughts: one, 
Mother must go to him at once ; the other, What was 
to be done with Doris ? 

Now it happily chanced that an English auntie of 
Doris's was visiting in Millbury just before returning 
to her own home. 

" I'll take Doris and Miss May home with me," she 
said promptly. " She's old enough to enjoy traveling, 
and it will be a good chance for her to see a little of 
England. When her father is better she can meet you 
somewhere." And so it had been arranged. 



EASTER BY THE ARNO 249 

At first the novelty of travel had diverted the little 
girl so that she forgot to be homesick. In her aunt's 
pleasant English home during the winter she had been 
fairly content. But when news came that Father was 
better, and that he and Mother would meet their little 
daughter in Florence in April, spend Easter there, and 
then sail home from Leghorn, it seemed to Doris that 
the days would not move fast enough. 

On the journey from England it had been planned 
that Miss May and her charge should stop for a brief 
glimpse of some of the continental cities, but I fear 
much that this opportunity was quite wasted upon 
Doris, for her cry all along was: 

" O Miss May, hurry, hurry ! Don't stop here ! 
We shall soon be in Italy, and then I shall see Father 
and Mother and go home." 

And here they were in Italy, having arrived the 
evening before, and instead of Father and Mother a 
disappointing little note had been awaiting them, say- 
ing that Father had not been quite so well, and it was 
thought best to wait in Rome a week longer ; but rooms 
at the pension (as boarding houses are called in Eu- 
rope) were engaged, and Miss May and Doris were to 
take possession of them and wait for the others. 

" If ever I get back to Millbury I'll never — never 
— never leave it, even to go to Boston for a day," de- 
clared Doris, raising her tear-stained face from Miss 
May's shoulder. 

They had been the only occupants of the drawing- 
room of the pension during this little scene, but now 
Doris realized that others were in the room, and that 



250 EASTER 

they were all talking of something they were going to 
see. Among them was a young girl, a little older than 
Doris, who now and then glanced at our little girl in a 
friendly and rather pitying way. Suddenly she turned 
to the lady with her and held a whispered consultation ; 
then came straight across the room to Miss May and 
Doris. 

" Aren't you going to see the Flight of the Dove ? " 
she said. " I know you've just come, and perhaps 
Florence is new to you. We'd like, my mother and I, 
to have you come with us, if you will." 

Doris brightened. " What is the flight of the 
Dove ? " she queried. 

" Oh, it is one of the queerest and loveliest of the 
old Florentine customs to be seen to-day. I'll tell 
you about it as we go along." 

Soon the four were on their way to the scene of the 
ceremony, and the young girl told Doris that her name 
was Helen Morris, that her home was in Pittsburg, 
and that she was here in Florence to study singing: 
She laughed and chatted in the friendliest way as she 
led her new acquaintance through the narrow streets. 

" Isn't it lovely to be here for Easter," she cried, " in 
the flower of cities and the city of flowers? Why, the 
very sign of the city is a lily, you know, and it is every- 
where. Look at that ! " 

A workman was passing with his spade under his 
arm, and graven on it was the lovely Florentine lily. 

" And see the flowers ! " cried the girl. 

They were passing a stately old palace. Heaped on 
its shelving foundation were banks of lilies, roses, great 



EASTER BY THE ARNO 251 

star-eyed anemones and hyacinths; and a dark-eyed 
peasant girl offered Doris a big bunch for a sum which 
Helen told her was about five cents in United States 
money. 

It was impossible not to catch the spirit of the girl 
beside her, and no one would have recognized in this 
happy-faced Doris the forlorn little maid of a few min- 
utes before. Crowds of people were in the streets, all 
hurrying in the same direction, towards the Cathedral 
square. It was not a long walk, and soon they found 
themselves before that remarkable group of buildings — 
the Cathedral, the beautiful Campanile, or bell tower, 
and just across, the Baptistery. 

Doris drew a long breath of delight, for few little 
girls of twelve years had a keener love of the beautiful, 
and here was beauty such as she had never seen. 

" Come, come," urged Helen, for the crowd was in- 
creasing. " We have a window engaged over there 
where we can see everything nicely, and you can study 
the buildings from there." 

" It is a great crowd," said Miss May, " but a won- 
derfully quiet and sober one." 

" It is a religious ceremony," explained Mrs. Morris, 
" and means much more to these people than a mere 
merrymaking or show. Shall I tell you the story while 
we wait ? " 

Both Miss May and Doris eagerly assented, and the 
lady went on : 

" Many years ago — so an old legend tells us — a 
Florentine journeying in the Holy Land visited the 
Holy Sepulcher at Jerusalem, and vowed to bring back 



252 EASTER 

to his dear Florence a flame from the light that always 
burns there. He lighted his torch and started home- 
wards, but met with various disasters so that he was 
forced to turn back several times to relight the flame. 
Finally he carried it sheltered from wind and rain under 
his coat, and rode backwards on his horse still further 
to protect it. Along the way he presented such a curi- 
ous figure that the people shouted ' Pazzo ! Pazzo ! ' 
which means ' fool/ And the name seems to have 
stayed by, for his descendants in Florence to-day are 
still called the Pazzi. He persevered and reached Flor- 
ence with his sacred fire, which he deposited in the 
Cathedral, where it still burns." 

" Does it really? " said Doris, with big eyes. 

" Well," hesitated Mrs. Morris, " I've told you the 
legend. I never saw the sacred fire. But every year 
on the day before Easter a white dove (not a live one, 
Miss Doris) with a spark of fire in its beak is started 
from the high altar of the Cathedral, comes spinning 
along a wire, out through the door, and then across to 
the Baptistery ; and then it turns and shoots back. If 
the flame goes out in its passage, the superstitious peas- 
ants believe that the crops will be poor, so it is watched 
with great anxiety. Now keep your eyes on the Cathe- 
dral doorway, for it is near the time." 

Sounds of music had been heard from the interior of 
the great church, but now these stopped ; a hush came 
over the waiting people. Doris found herself holding 
her breath as everybody else did, and then — out from 
the church whizzed the dove midst a shower of sparks, 



EASTER BY THE ARNO 253 

across the square to where a great car hung with flowers 
and fireworks and drawn by snow-white oxen had been 
drawn up near the Baptistery. As the dove in its pas- 
sage shot by this car the fireworks were ignited and with 
a flash and a bang the whole car seemed to be going up 
in fire. Back flew the dove to the high altar, and the 
people breathed freely, because the flame had "not died 
out. 

Mrs. Morris explained that the flame which the dove 
carried was given to the Pazzi family after the cere- 
mony and was carried in this great car to their little 
family chapel. Neither car nor oxen are ever used for 
any but this sacred purpose. After waiting to see the 
great car drawn away, the little party started home- 
wards. At each step — so it seemed to Doris — her 
new friend had something interesting to tell or some 
beautiful thing to point out. Surely this old Florence 
was the most story-ful city she had ever been in. And 
it was a much brighter faced little girl who followed 
Miss May into the room they had left a few hours 
before. 

Only two people were in it, standing as she had at 
one of the windows — a lady and a tall, thin, rather pale 
gentleman, who turned as the others came in, and with 
a cry of " My little girl ! " held out his arms. 

" I felt better," he explained, " and I couldn't bear 
to think of my Doris spending a lonely Easter here." 

The next day the American church was full of peo- 
ple, " our own kind of people," whispered Doris to Miss 
May ; the lilies bloomed around the altar, and when the 



254 EASTER 

processional came, lo ! it was the very Easter hymn the 
children had sung last year in the little church at Mill- 
bury : 

" Breaks the joyful Easter dawn, 

Clearer yet and stronger; 
Winter from the world has gone, 
Death shall be no longer.'* 

And as she listened, with her hand in her father's, 
Doris felt that her Easter, although so far from home, 
was one of the happiest in her life. 



ANNE-MARIE 

by frances s. dabney 
characters 

Anne-Marie Old Cure 

Lucille 6 Little Children 

Scene: — A kitchen in a peasant's cottage. At right 
a bedroom. Both rooms to be seen at the same time by 
the audience. Kitchen contains a high hearth under 
wide chimney cap, center back. A cupboard on either 
side in the niches. Outside door at left, with a small 
window on one side and a dark oak table on the other, 
near cupboard. One or two dark heavy chairs. Much 
worn tile Uoor. Door in partition on the right leading 
into the bedroom which is bare but for a cot covered 
with a white sheet in upper left hand comer, another 
ditto in right hand corner and a third in lower right. 



ANNE-MARIE 255 

A table between the first two, covered with a white 
towel on which stands a crucifix and two lighted 
candles. Lighted candles at head and foot of each cot. 

[Time : Very early morning. 

Curtain rising discloses Anne-Marie standing in the 
middle of the room looking at the cots with glazed 
eyes as if she saw nothing. 

Anne-Marie 

Yes — all is ready. 

[Silence. The kitchen door is opened quietly and the 
old Cure enters, crosses the kitchen to the bedroom, 
bows his head and makes the sign of the cross.] 

Cure 
Thou art alone my child? How is this? Where 
are the women ? 

Anne-Marie 
They were here all night; they left but just now, but 
will return soon. 

Cure 
They should not have left thee alone poor little one. 

Anne-Marie 
I wished it, Father. It is better so — I am alone. 

Cure 
Nay, nay, my child thou hast friends. All is not 
lost. The good God is with you still and loves you — 
but what — what is this — the third cot ? 



256 EASTER 

Anne-Marie 
It is Anne-Marie. 

Cure 

[Looking at her anxiously.] 

Thine, Anne-Marie? What art thou saying? This 
is sacrilege. May God pardon thee. Gome help me 
remove it before the women come back. [He moves 
toward one of the cots.] 

Anne-Marie 

[Placing herself in his way with outstretched arms."] 

No, no, Father, disturb her not, there lies the father, 
poor old man ; he is at rest. There lies little Jean, the 
twin brother ; he died for his country. And here lies 
poor Anne-Marie. Let them rest, let me do for her 
as for the others, the last services ; no one is left to do 
them for her, and then I will go forth alone, far far 
away. 

Cure 
[Agitatedly.] 
My child, my poor child, sorrow has turned thine 
head, thou knowest not what thou sayest. 

Anne-Marie 

[Quietly.] 

Yes, Father, I know. Listen, for twenty years poor 

Anne-Marie has worked day and night and the big 

brother Louis worked and the little twin brother Jean. 



ANNE-MARIE 257 

The mother died when the twins were born. The 
father loved them perhaps in his own way but he was 
hard, hard. The little ones worked when they could 
only toddle, they fed the chickens and the pigs and 
the cows ; they fetched wood from the forest and dug 
in the fields and when late at night they tumbled into 
their straw beds, they were too tired even to pray. 
Then Louis drew his. number and went away to be a 
soldier. When his two years were over he never came 
back. They said he went to Paris, but no one ever 
heard from him. Then Jean must do his soldiering 
and that almost broke the old father's heart for Louis 
was his pride but Jean was his favorite. He became 
more sour and crabbed ; and each time one had gone, 
Anne-Marie must work the harder. Jean came home 
in two years and all seemed well, for the twins loved 
each other as few love. But the war came and Jean 
was called. Ah! but that was hard, for none knew 
where he was going and for five months no word from 
him. Ah, the misery of it — then he was brought home, 
blind, a cripple and queer in his head ; he seemed to re- 
member nothing. But he always knew Anne-Marie. 
Friday, Good Friday he died here in this little room and 
the old father fell dead on the floor when they told 
him ; he loved Jean. Anne-Marie died that night too. 
She had lost all, what had she to live for, and here she 
lies. [Anne-Marie lifts the white sheet from the fore- 
most cot, showing the working clothes of Anne-Marie 
neatly laid out.] Let her be, let her rest at last with 
her dear ones, she was so tired, Father, she could no 
more, so she died. 



258 EASTER 

Cure 
My poor child, how thou hast suffered; weep, my 
child; let tears refresh thy soul. To-day is the beau- 
tiful Easter Day when all must rejoice. 

Anne-Marie 
[Interrupting him eagerly.] 

Yes, Father, I rejoice, I rejoice for them all, for 
they can rest. No bells, no candles, no holy water 
the day they died, but it was a good day to die, the day 
our Lord died, and to-day He rises to Heaven and He 
will take them with Him. He is good, He is kind. 
The bells ring and the candles are lighted. 

[A rapt look comes into her face. The priest with 
a troubled look takes her hand and leads her to the 
table on which stands the crucifix and candles, and 
together they kneel in prayer, he with his head bowed, 
she with head uplifted, her hands clasped over her 
rosary on her breast. 

[Silence. A knock at the outer kitchen door. Both 
rise slowly and enter the kitchen just as the door opens 
and Lucille in black enters with several children, a 
baby in her arms.] 

Lucille 
[In a weak voice, as if almost exhausted.] 
Does pere Gibert live here? 

Cure 
[Pointing to the door of the bedroom.] 
He is dead. 



ANNE-MARIE 259 

Lucille 

[Staggers to a chair.] 

Dead ! Oh, my God ! what am I to do ? And Jean 
and Anne-Marie? 

Anne-Marie 
Dead too. Who are you that know these names? 

Lucille 

Louis' wife, Lucille. He was killed in battle. Vic- 
tor whose motherless children I had been tending when 
he was sent to the front, was killed first and Louis 
promised to care for them like his own (and we al- 
ready had three), but Louis hoped to return himself 
[she adds hastily] and together we should have man- 
aged. When he was wounded he bade me come here to 
his father and the twins. He said they would forgive 
him now perhaps, and they are all dead. My God it is 
terrible, it is terrible. 

[Rocks back and forth holding the baby close. 
r Anne-Marie has been looking at the children.] 

Cure 
[Steps forward.] 

My poor woman, it would be hard if true, but Anne- 
Marie is here and the good God has sent her these little 
human beings to love and care for. 

[The baby in Lucille' s arms begins to cry and the 
other children are clustered round her as if half afraid.] 



2 6o EASTER 

Lucille 

He is hungry, my poor little Jean ; they are all hungry 
and tired, oh, so tired. We have been walking five 
days, sleeping where we could, begging for food. 
Hush Jean, little Jean. 

Anne-Marie 

[Kneeling by her side, reaches out her arms for the 
baby, her eyes shining.] 

He is called Jean ? 

Lucille 

Yes, for the little brother. Louis loved them all at 
home but he was afraid to return; he said it was so 
triste, so triste that life. This boy is called Louis and 
this little one is Anne-Marie . . . your goddaughter. 

[The old Cure after watching them a moment slips 
away unnoticed; he raises his hand as if in blessing as 
he goes out through the doorway and smiles well 
pleased.] 

Anne-Marie 

Louis, Jean, Anne-Marie — and they are mine too ? 
I may love them ? I may work for them ? I may make 
them happy? 

Lucille 

Yes, yes, my sister, they are yours. Ah, love them a 
little, they have lost so much. 

[Anne-Marie lays her head on Lucille' s knee and 
sobs as if her heart would break. 



ANNE-MARIE 261 

The church bells begin a joyful pealing for the 
early mass.] 

Anne-Marie 

[Lifts her head, clasping her arms about them all.] 

Ah, God is good! To-day he has taken her dear 
ones to Heaven with Him and to-day He makes Anne- 
Marie live again. He gives her some one to love, 
some one to work for and she will be working for 
Louis, for Jean while serving thee my sister and these 
little ones. Yes, truly she lives again on this beautiful 
Easter Day. 



THE END