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287

SIGHTS.

of poverty were, even in their slumbers, as anxious how
to provide for the wants of the body, as eager for gain,
and as envious as they had been by day ; but the angel
passed by and none saw him. Only over the face of the
young child that, unconscious of the world, slept in its
cradle, and knew not yet whether it was born rich or
poor, a faint smile passed, more lovely and beautiful
than that of the bride who sees her betrothed in her
dreams. At the extreme end of the city, stood a lofty
church whose slender spires, broken by the glimmering
moonlight, reached to the clouds, and whose broad walls
and colonnades seemed built to cover the narrow alleys
which lay behind them, the home of the miserable and
the despised. Lighted lamps were shining through the
high arched windows, and as we stood under the gothic
doorway, a pleasant chime rung out for matins. The
sound from the tower, and the chant of the priest,
thrilled me with devotion, and I was anxious to press
in with the few worshipers who were hastening to
prayer. But the angel beckoned me to stay, and turned
his eye upward to the cornice of the stately temple. A
sparrow, stiffened by the frost, fell from the roof at the
feet of the angel. He lifted it up, and wrapping it in
the folds of his vesture, warmed it compassionately on
his bosom. And as if his mission in this place were
ended, he walked on more rapidly, and, as I thought,
with a more joyful countenance, directing his steps to
the despised quarter of the town, and through the dark,
narrow, and crooked lanes, until we reached the extreme
outer wall. There stood a hut so ruinous that I feared
even to pass by it. But God's messenger entered, and
I followed him reluctantly. A moldering staircase led