No. 96. Price 12 Cents. 
NEW YORK, DECEMBER, 1879, 
By Adams & Bishop, 
and open wide the gates of gold that never more 
shall shut. 
Where shall he found the heart, in all earth’s 
struggling millions, that shall not heat with gladder 
throb that it is Christmas ? Is there anywhere in 
any dark mine or cold prison one that shall not 
- mr — ■ catch a gleam of 
the holy light, or 
some distant echo 
of the angel’s 
^ song? If there 
B ||, is such a spot, 
|| Christian faith 
and Christian 
jpg charity should 
' blush that it 
should he. 
sion of the Hebrew prophet, “ the hidings of God’s 
power.” We are conscious of reserved force, in the 
cold and silent air. The tempests linger awhile 
in their northern caves, but we are sure that they 
remain eouchant, ready for a spring. Are they 
checked by the echoes of seraph music, by the glory 
“ A stern discipline pervades all nature which is a 
little cruel that it may be very kind.” 
—Herbert Spencer. 
The shadows of the closing year are gathering 
about us. Once 1 ~ 
the circle 
of the months 
draws to its com- |jk 
pleteness, and 
the season ol 
storms heralds its | jj| 
approach by days . 
more 
In our own 
ISyllfes ? land more and 
S more, we are 
coming to feel 
the gentle and 
g WW B|^^ tender influences 
that uill not snf- 
pjff BM fer any soul to 
eat the Christ- 
mas feast alone. 
Everywhere gen¬ 
ts- tie charities car- 
ry the bread of. 
love to cheerless 
homes and hun- 
gry hearts. At 
Christmas, if 
ever 
women feel that 
they are all akin, 
— —» and put away 
that abomination called condescen- 
rich and the poor meet together, 
int realization that the Lord is the 
m all. The rich go among the poor 
ies all awake, remembering the Babe 
r, “ who, though he was rich, for our 
men 
A Christmas in Elfland, 
of the light from upper skies that floods Judeen 
plains? Truly December needs not the cheer of 
summer flowers or autumn splendor; there is a 
warmth and light throbbing through all the pulses 
of the world. Hope and love heat back with 
shining wings the frigid darkness of wrong and woe, 
4 
