Anna probably had not heard the salutation of her friend and brother, the venerable Simeon; but something in the aspect of the child, and in her own heart, told her that he who lay there in helpless infancy, veiled in human flesh, was the same Being called by Isaiah, "Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace."

What transport filled her soul as she took the babe in her withered arms, and in tones sweet, though tremulous with age and emotion, thanked God that he had remembered his covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and David, and after the dreary lapse of ages, had at length visited and redeemed his people. But the warm heart of Anna was not satisfied with this public recognition of the infant Messiah. She spoke of him to all the faithful in Jerusalem, and urged his claims with an eloquence which carried conviction to every honest heart.

How long the prophetess lived after this interesting interview, we are not informed; probably she was called home long before the entrance of our Lord on his public ministry.

But though she may have seen him no more on earth, she was undoubtedly among the bright hosts who greeted his return as a triumphant conqueror to his throne on the right hand of the Father, and who rejoice in his blissful presence for evermore.

S we may naturally imag

ine the scene and order of

events, it was night, and

darkness lay like a pall over the streets and dwellings of Jerusalem, save in the palace of Herod the tetrarch, where all was brightness, splendor, and more than oriental luxury. Per

fumed tapers, shining through alabaster vases, lighted up the magnificent apartments with softened radiance. Crowds of gay courtiers were scattered about in brilliant groups, while over all floated strains of delicious melody from invisible musicians, steeping the soul in a soft languor which took from it the power or wish to resist temptation.

In an inner chamber, to which none but his special favorites were admitted, Herod presided at the festive board, with a clouded brow and forced smile, which betrayed but too plainly the gnawing of the deathless worm within. Rich and sparkling wines flowed like water, and the choicest viands of every clime loaded the table; but the king was out of spirits, and the mirth and merriment of the guests seemed only to increase his chagrin. At length, making some slight apology to his companions, he left the table, and passing through the crowds in the anteroom, sought the apartments of his queen Herodias.

He found her reclining languidly on a divan, surrounded by slaves, one of whom was braiding and perfuming her long dark hair, another

arranging her jewel case, and a third seated on the floor, was holding the feet of her mistress on a silken cushion in her lap. The face of Herodias was dark with evil passions, and there was a stormy brightness in the black eyes which flashed fiercely on the intruder, auguring ill for the coming interview.

Herod advanced to the couch, from which the two slaves retired, and throwing himself on a low seat by her side, inquired,

"Why was my queen absent from the banquet to-night? Knowest thou not that pleasure itself is tasteless and insipid without thee, the ornament of our court and light of our palace?"

"Mock me not with words, my lord," she haughtily replied, "to which deeds alone could give any value. If Herod truly loved the fond woman who forsook all for him, I should not a second time have been subjected to reproach and insult from a low-born and nameless adventurer."

"Nay, sweet," answered the king soothingly, "John the Baptist is no nameless adventurer. A meddling fanatic he certainly is, and