THE "AMEN" OF THE STONES.

Blind with old age, went Beda forth to preach The blessed Gospel to the world, and teach The listening crowd of village and of town. A peasant school-boy led him up and down, Proclaiming aye God's word with youthful fire. Rather in childish folly than in scorn, The lad the trusting graybeard led, one morn, Down to a vale where massive stones around Were strewed. "A congregation fills the ground," He said, "and, lo, they wait to hear thee, sire." Up rose the aged pilgrim, took the text, Turned it, explained it, and applied it next, Implored, exhorted, prayed, and, ending, bowed his head, And to the listening crowd the Pater Noster said. When he had ended, from the circling stones The cry went forth, as if in human tones, "Amen, most reverend father!" and again The circling stones in concert cried, "Amen!" The boy shrank back, remorseful, on his knees, Confessed his fault, and sought to make his peace. "Mock not God's word," the old man to him said. "Know that, though men were mute to it, and dead. The very stones will witness. 'Tis a living word, And cutteth sharply, like a two-edged sword. And if all human hearts to stones should turn, A human heart within these stones would burn."