Nor, had they watched her, could they have told if she had heard any thing to comfort or relieve her sorrow.

From the first word to the last she gazed fixedly at the speaker.

With the rest she rose and went out.

But as she passed by the pulpit stairs she looked up for a moment at that pallid face, and a finer eye than any human saw that she longed, like another woman of old looking at another teacher, to kiss the hem of his garment.

Oh! not by earthquake nor by lightning, but by the soft touch of angels at midnight, is the stone rolled away from the door of the sepulchre..