of joy. In those days the
very heart of Scotland was distracted--persecution scattered her
prayers--and during the summer months, families remained shut up in fear
within their huts, as if the snowdrifts of winter had blocked up and
buried their doors. It was as if the shadow of a thunder-cloud hung over
all the land, so that men's hearts quaked as they looked up to
heaven--when, lo! all at once, Three gracious Visitants appeared!
Imagination invested their foreheads with a halo; and as they walked on
their missions of mercy, exclaimed--How beautiful are their feet! Few
words was the Child ever heard to speak, except some words of prayer;
but her image-like stillness breathed a blessing wherever it smiled, and
all the little maidens loved her, when hushed almost into awe by her
spiritual beauty, as she knelt with them in their morning and evening
orisons. The Mother's face, too, it is said, was pale as a face of
grief, while her eyes seemed always happy, and a tone of thanksgiving
was in her voice. Her Husband leant upon her on his way to the
grave--for his eye's excessive brightness glittered with death--and
often, as he prayed beside the sick-bed, his cheek became like ashes,
for his heart in a moment ceased to beat, and then, as if about to burst
in agony, sounded audibly in the silence. Journeying on did they all
seem to heaven; yet as they were passing by, how loving and how full of
mercy! To them belonged some blessed power to wave away the sword that
would fain have smitten the Saints. The dewdrops on the greensward
before the cottage door, they suffered not to be polluted with blood.
Guardian Angels were they thought to be, and such indeed they were, for
what else are the holy powers of innocence?--Guardian Angels sent to
save some of God's servants on earth from the choking tide and the
scorching fire. Often, in the clear and starry nights, did the dwellers
among all these little dells, and up along all these low hill-sides,
hear music flowing down from heaven, responsive to the hymns of the
Blessed Family. Music without the syllabling of words--yet breathing
worship, and with the spirit of piety filling all the Night-Heavens. One
whole day and night passed by, and not a hut had been enlightened by
their presence. Perhaps they had gone away without warning as they had
come--having been sent on another mission. With soft steps one maiden,
and then another, entered the door, and then was heard the voice of
weepin