A COMPANY of monks in the olden time lived together in a monastery, working busily tilling the land and caring for the sick and poor, yet ever hallowing their work with prayer. Every evening they sang the beautiful hymn “Magnificat” at their vesper service, but as they grew old their voices became harsh and broken, and they almost lost all tune, but they still sang on. One evening a stranger youth came in to see them. He was strong and beautiful, and when they began the “Magnificat,” his lovely, clear voice soared upward, as if to sing at the very gate of heaven. The poor old monks listened, enraptured with the wonderful music, until they forgot to sing themselves. That night an angel, so the legend runs, appeared to the eldest monk and asked, “Why did not the holy hymn ascend to heaven at evensong as heretofore?” And the monk, astonished, replied: “O blessed angel, surely it did ascend! Heard you not in heaven those almost angelic strains from the voice of our gifted brother? So sweetly he sang that our poor voices were hushed, lest we should mar the music.” But the angel answered: “Beautiful it may have been, but no note of it reached to heaven. Into those gates only music of the heart can enter.”—Selected.