needles and you couldn't hear nothin' but the shaders of 'em, and then he wouldn't let her go. He forward two'd, he crost over first gentleman, he chassade right and left, back to your place, all hands around, back and forth, up and down, turned and tacked and tangled into forty-eleven thousand double bow-knots.

And then he wouldn't let her go. He fetcht up his right wing, he fetcht up his left wing, he fetcht up his reserve, he fetcht up his center. He fired by file, by platoons, by regiments and brigades. He opened his cannon-siege guns down thar, Napoleons here. twelve pounders yonder; big guns, little guns, middlesized guns, mines and magazines, battery and bomb all a goin' at the same time. The house trembled, the lights danced, the walls shuk, the floor come up, the ceilin' come down, the sky split, the ground rocked. Heavens and earth! creation! sweet potatoes! Moses! Roodle-oodle-oodle-oodle--ruddle-uddle-uddle

-uddle-raddle-addle-addle-addle- riddle-iddle-iddleiddle reedle-eedle-eedle-eedle p-r-r-rlang! bang! lang! perlang! p-r-r-r-rlang! Bang!!! With that bang he lifted himself bodily into the air, and come down with his knees, his ten fingers, his ten toes, his elbows and his nose strikin' every single solitary key on that pianner at the same time. The thing busted and went off into seventeen hundred and fifty-seven thousand five hundred and forty-two hemi-demi-semiquivers, and I know'd no more.

NAPOLEON.

From the rock rudely rent by the billows' commotion
The haunt of the sea bird and home of the gale,
In glory bear forth o'er the waves of the ocean,
The hero who spoke and the nations turned pale.
Though hard was his fortune and mournful his story,
His fame shall beam brighter as time rolls away,
While the star, that keeps watch o'er the altar of glory,
Shall shed on his column his ne'er dying ray.

Then bear him in pride with his death mantle o'er him,
And lay him to rest at the foot of Vendome.
Wave the banners of nations in triumph before him,
And welcome the dust of the mighty one home,
Though Moscow and Waterloo tarnish his splendor,
Still Jena, and Praga and Lodi remain,

And the eternal Alps shall forever remember,
How o'er them 'mid tempests he swept with his train.

He spoke and the thrones of the kingdoms were shaken;

He raised his right arm and the mightiest quailed;
He was vanquished and far on a lone isle forsaken;
'Mid foemen he died while his countrymen wailed.
Then bear him in pride with his death mantle o'er him,
And lay him to rest at the foot of Vendome,
Wave the banners of nations in triumph before him,
And welcome the dust of Napoleon-home.

Head of the army!" he cried in his last dying vision,

While fancy his eagles waved round him again,
Then passed to the judgment the soul of Ambition,
And a grave held what Europe could scarcely con-

tain.

Weep, Frenchman, in sorrow, who left him to perish!
Weep blood for the hero who gave thee a name ;
In thy breast the proud deeds of the valiant one
-cherish,

Whose exile forever shall trumpet thy shame.

Then bear him in pride with his death mantle o'er him,

And lay him to rest at the foot of Vendome,

Wave Austerlitz's banner in triumph before him,
And welcome this dust of Napoleon home.
Mortality frail are the glories that linger,
Around thy brave sons when the death pall is spread.
Time, time rudely blots with his unsparing finger,
The tablet that blazons the deeds of the dead.

R

Then adieu to the grave 'neath the broad waving willow,

Adieu to the prison isle's tempest crowned steeps,
In the heart of his country pile up his last pillow,
Where the trophies he won shall declare where he
sleeps.

Yes; bear him in pride with his death mantle o'er him,

And lay him to rest at the foot of Vendome,

Where the soldiers he cherished can fall down before

him,

And welcome the death conquered conqueror home.

THE GOSPEL HARPOON.

A sailor who had just returned from a whaling voyage was taken by a friend to hear an eloquent preacher. When they came out of the church, the friend said: "Jack, wasn't that a fine sermon?"

The

"Yes-it was. Ship-shape. The water lines were graceful, the masts raked just high enough. sails and riggings were all right. But I didn't see any harpoons. When a vessel goes on a whaling voyage, the main thing is to get the whales. But they don't come to you, because you have a fine ship, you must go after them and harpoon them. Now it seems to me that a preacher is a whale man. He is sent not to interest and amuse the fish by sailing among them, but to catch them. Jesus said to his disciples, I will make you fishers of men.' Now how many sermons like that do you think it would take to convict a sinner and make him cry out, 'What must I do to be saved?'"'

The friend said, "But, Jack, people now-a-days don't like to be harpooned. They want to be interested intellectually in the truth. They like to listen to such expositions and illustrations as the Doctor gave us this morning. Did you not see how attentive they

were? Surely it is a grand thing to attract such an audience to hear the gospel."

“To hear about the gospel, you mean. Now, I don't object to the Doctor's exposition and illustrations. As I said before they were all ship-shape; but the trouble was, when we sailed to the fishing ground, and the whales had all gracefully come to the surface, instead of manning the boats and striking for a haul, he made a polite bow and appeared to say: I am very glad to see so many whales. I must not do anything to hurt or frighten them; hope they will all admire my ship and come again on my next voyage.'

"Do you think a ship-owner would send such a captain to Behring Sea a second time? Read in Acts the report of Peter's first gospel sermon. He begins with an able exposition of Old Testament prophesies in regard to the incarnation and resurrection of Christ and the out-pouring of the spirit, and then when he had gained the attention of the crowd, he charged home upon them with the words of Jesus, whom ye have crucified!' That was hurling a harpoon. And we are told that it was effective. They were pricked to their hearts, and the gospel catch that day was three thousands souls. No, no! A sightly ship and staunch boat are well enough in their place, but they will be of little practical value to the gospel fisherman unless he is liberally supplied with harpoons and has the courage to wield theni.

"It is all right to polish your harpoon, the more polish the better! But after all it is not the polish but the harpoon that does the work. If the whalemen fail in that, the whole voyage and venture is a failure, and I cannot but think it the same with the preaching."-Homiletic Review.

INASMUCH.

It was a rural school-house-old in sheltered nook, The time, the noon recess.

The ruder sex with ball and bat and wild huzza,
Sent forth their boisterous glee, whilst with an equal
zest,

The gentler girls their leisure spent in quiet sports.
From out the senior class of five, four lovely girls,
Who fast were budding into woman's fair estate,
Had each about her grouped a knot of little ones,
Seeking to give them joy. Dear Docia just from town,
Had brought a store of goods to dress their waxen
dolls.

And, while she sewed a gown, or tied a ribbon bow,
No other drop was needed in the cup of bliss,

Full quaffed by happy hearts. And gleesome Kitty too,

Her cortege bound with skipping rope and laughter loud;

And yet their noisy fun ne'er reached staid Hannah's

ear,

Who, prisoned willing in one corner of the yard,
Fast chained her eager captors with sweet fairy tales.
The other of the class of five, repulsive Ruth,
Deformed and sensitive, unloving and unloved,
Sad and discontented upon the door-sill crouched;
Her hated crutches leaning 'gainst the outer wall,
Her burning cheek hard on the mouldy door frame
pressed,

66

And scalding tears fast raining o'er her folded hands. "Ah me!" she murmured low, "had I but Docia's wealth,

Or Kitty's agile limbs and gushing spirits,

Or Grace's beauty fair, or Hannah's unexhausted store
Of elfin love, I too might win from childish hearts,
Some boon of love to gild with warmth my frozen life,
'Tis selfish craving love without the giving love,
For teacher often says-and he's always right—