What could be done? He was reported dead. On his return
He strove in vain some tidings of his absent wife to learn.
'Twas well that he was innocent! Else I'd 've killed him, too
So dead he never would have riz till Gabriel's trumpet blew !

It was agreed that Mary then between us shoula decide,
And each by her decision would sacredly abide.

No sinner, at the judgment-scat, waiting eternal doom,
Could suffer what I did, while waiting sentence in that room.

Rigid and breathless, there we stood, with nerves as tense as steel,

While Mary's eyes sought each white face, in pitecus appeal. God! could not woman's duty be less hardly reconciled Between her lawful husband and the father of her child?

Ah, how my heart was chilled to ice, when she knelt down and said:

"Forgive me, John! He is my husband! Here! Alive! not dead!

I raised her tenderly, and tried to tell her she was right,
But somehow, in my aching breast, the prisoned words stuck

tight!

"But, John, I can't leave baby"-"What! wife and child !” cried I;

"Must I yield all! Ali, cruel fate! Better that I should die. Think of the long, sad, lonely hours, waiting in gloom for meNo wife to cheer me with her love-no babe to Climb my knee!

"And yet you are her mother, and the sacred mother love Is still the purest, tenderest tie that Heaven ever wove. Take her, but promise, Mary-for that will bring no shame— "My little girl shall bear, and learn to lisp her father's name!"

It may be, in the life to come, I'll meet my child and wife;
But yonder, by my cottage gate, we parted for this life;
One long hand-clasp from Mary, and my dream of love was
done!

One long embrace from baby, and my happiness was gone!

NUMBER FIVE.

THE SONG OF THE DYING.-CAPTAIN DOWLING.

A NUMBER of British officers were stationed at an outpost in India during the prevalence of a pestilence. Many of their companions had fallen victims; all the chances of escape were cut off, and death stared them in the face. Under these circumstances, and meeting together probably for the last time, the following lines, which were written by one of their number, was sung The author was the first to fall a victim to the grim destroyer.

WE meet 'neath the sounding rafter,
And the walls around are bare;
As they echo the peels of laughter
It seems that the dead are there;

But stand to your glasses steady,
We drink to our comrades' eyes;
Quaff a cup to the dead already-
And hurrah for the next that dies!

Not here are the goblets flowing,
Not here is the vintage sweet;
'Tis cold, as our hearts are growing,
And dark as the doom we meet.
But stand to your glasses steady,
And soon shall our pulses rise;
A cup to the dead already-
Hurrah for the next that dies!

Not a sigh for the lot that darkles,
Not a tear for the friends that sink;
We'll fall, 'midst the wine-cup's sparkles,
As mute as the wine we drink.

So stand to your glasses steady,
'Tis in this our respite lies;
One cup to the dead already-
Hurrah for the next that dies!

Time was when we frowned at others,
We thought we were wiser then;

Ha ha! let those think of their mothers,

Who hope to see them again.

No! stand to your glasses steady,

The thoughtless are here the wise;
A cup to the dead already-
Hurrah for the next that dies!

There's many a hand that's shaking,
There's many a cheek that's sunk;

But soon, though our hearts are breaking,
They'll burn with the wine we've drunk.

EE

So stand to your glasses steady,
'Tis here the revival lies;
A cup to the dead already-
Hurrah for the next that dies!

There's a mist on the glass congealing,
'Tis the hurricane's fiery breathi;
And thus does the warmth of feeling
Turn ice in the grasp of death.
Ho! stand to your glasses steady;
For a moment the vapor flies;
A cup to the dead already-
Hurrah for the next that dies!

Who dreads to the dust returning?
Who shrinks from the sable shore,
Where the high and haughty yearning
Of the soul shall sing no more?
Ho! stand to your glasses steady;
This world is a world of lies;
A cup for the dead already-
Hurrah for the next that dies!

Cut off from the land that bore us,
Betrayed by the land we find,

Where the brightest have gone before us,

And the dullest remain behind

Stand, stand to your glasses steady!

'Tis all we have left to prize;

A cup to the dead already

And hurrah for the next that dies!

AFFECTATION IN THE PULPIT.-WILLIAM COWPER

IN man or woman,-but far most in man,
And most of all in man that ministers
And serves the altar,-in my soul I loathe
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disgust.

What!-will a man play tricks,-will he indulge
A silly, fond conceit of his fair form,
And just proportion, fashionable mien,
And pretty face,-in prçsence of his God?
Or will he seek to dazzle me with tropes,
As with the diamond on his lily hand,

And play his brilliant parts before my eyes,
When I am hungry for the bread of life?
He mocks his Maker, prostitutes and shames
His noble office, and, instead of truth,
Displaying his own beauty, starves his flock!
Therefore, avaunt all attitude, and stare,
And start theatric, practised at the glass!
I seek divine simplicity in him

Who handles things divine; and all besides,
Though learned with labor, and though much admired
By curious eyes and judgments ill-informed,

To me is odious as the nasal twang
Heard at conventicle, where worthy men,
Misled by custom, strain celestial themes
Through the pressed nostril, spectacle-bestrid.

I venerate the man whose heart is warm,

Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose life,
Coincident, exhibit lucid proof

That he is honest in the sacred cause;

To such, I render more than mere respect,

Whose actions say that they respect themselves.
But loose in morals, and in manners vain,
In conversation frivolous, in dress
Extreme, at once rapacious and profuse ;
Frequent in park with lady at his side,
Ambling, and prattling scandal as he goes;
But rare at home, and never at his books,
Or with his pen, save when he scrawls a card;
Constant at routs, familiar with a round
Of ladyships-a stranger to the poor;
Ambitious of preferment for its gold;
And well prepared, by ignorance and stotn,
By infidelity and love of world,

To make God's work a sinecure; a slave
To his own pleasures and his patron's pride ;—
From such apostles, Oh, ye mitred heads,
Preserve the Church! and lay not careless hands
On skulls that cannot teach, and will not learn!

COUSIN SALLY DILLIARD.-H. C. JONES.

SCENE-A Court of Justice in North Carolina.

A BEARDLESS disciple of Themis rises, and thus ad dresses the Court: "May it please your worships, and you, gentlemen of the jury, since it has been my fortune

(good or bad, I will not say) to exercise myself in legal disquisitions, it has never befallen me to be obliged to prosecute so direful, marked, and malicious an assaulta more wilful, violent, dangerous battery-and finally, a more diabolical breach of the peace has seldom happened in a civilized country; and I dare say, it has seldom been your duty to pass upon one so shocking to benevolent feelings, as this which took place over at Captain Rice's in this county. But you will hear from the witnesses."

The witnesses being sworn, two or three were examined and deposed: one said that he heard the noise, and did not see the fight; another that he seen the row, but didn't know who struck first; and a third, that he was very drunk, and couldn't say much about the scrimmage.

LAWYER CHOPS. I am sorry, gentlemen, to have occupied your time with the stupidity of the witnesses examined. It arises, gentlemen, altogether from misapprehension on my part. Had I known, as I now do, that I had a witness in attendance who was well acquainted with all the circumstances of the case, and who was able to make himself clearly understood by the Court and jury, I should not so long have trespassed upon your time and patience. Come forward, Mr. Harris, and be sworn.

So forward comes the witness, a fat, shuffy old man, a "leetle" corned, and took his oath with an air.

CHOPS. Harris we wish you to tell about the riot that happened the other day at Captain Rice's; and as a good deal of time has already been wasted in circumlocution, we wish you to be compendious, and at the same time as explicit as possible.

HARRIS. Adzackly (giving the lawyer a knowing wink, and at the same time clearing his throat). Captain Rice, he gin a treat, and cousin Sally Dilliard she came over to our house and axed me if my wife she moutn't go. I told cousin Sally Dilliard that my wife was poorly, being as how she had a touch of rheumatics in the hip, and the big swamp was in the road, and the big swamp was up, for there had been a heap of rain lately; but, howsomever, as it was her, cousin Sally Dilliard, my wife she mout go. Well, cousin Sally Dilliard then axed me if Mose he moutn't go. I told cousin Sally Dilliard that he was the foreman of the crap, and the crap was