of the many babes in Bethlehem was the
long-expected Messiah of the Jews, the great King, whose advent had been
revealed in the far east by a bright orb of heaven, then he would kill
all the little ones that were two years old and under; and the One that
he feared would be sure to be slain amongst them.

To do the dark deed he hastily despatched some of his soldiers; and soon
the peaceful pasture lands of Bethlehem, which had so lately resounded
with the glad songs of angels with shining wings, rang with shrieks of
frantic mothers. For the soldiers of the cruel king entered house after
house, and snatching the innocent babes from their mothers' arms, ran
them through with their glittering swords; and the bodies of the pretty
little things that, but a few moments ago, were looking up with happy
smiles into the loving faces that bent tenderly over them, were cruelly
thrown on the ground, their red blood streaming along the floors.

Out of house after house the bereaved mothers, wild with grief, rushed
into the streets, uttering piercing cries, smiting their breasts,
throwing up their arms towards heaven, and calling down upon the
committer of the atrocious crime the just vengeance of Him who hears the
oppressed.

Never before had the quiet village sent up such cries of despair, or
witnessed so cruel a scene! Who could look unmoved upon the poor mothers
running frantically about the narrow streets, with wild tearless eyes,
dishevelled hair, and, on their blanched faces, looks of terror, that
told of the terrible blow that had been struck at their hearts' inmost
core? Oh, it was terrible! Yet the ruthless king cared not. His hands
were so deeply imbued with the noblest blood of Jerusalem, that the
lives of a few tiny babes were nothing in his sight. While the
broken-hearted mothers were wildly shrieking, he was rejoicing; assured
that the one Child, whose life might perhaps have been something to him,
was quieted for ever.

But his wicked design was nevertheless baffled. The great God above, who
had foreseen all, had watched over His own Son, and the Holy Child was
being borne safely along towards Egypt--that land where so many of his
countrymen had found refuge in times of persecution, distress, or
famine.

Probably the night before the massacre, whilst Joseph, the husband of
Mary, was sleeping peacefully on his bed, a beautiful bright angel
appeared to him in a dream, and warned him of the danger to which he was
ex