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From what did it separate his province? From his country. Was that country a desert ? No; it was cultivated and fertile, rich and populous! Its sons were men of genius, spirit, and generosity! Its daughters were lovely, susceptible, and chaste! Friendship was its inhabitant! Love was its inbabitant! Domestic affection was its inhabitant! Liberty was its inhabitant! All bounded by the stream of the Rubicon! What was Cæsar, that stood upon the brink of that stream ? A traitor, bringing war and pestilence into the heart of that country! No wonder that he paused, no wonder if, his imagination wrought upon by his conscience, he had beheld blood instead of water, and heard groans. instead of murmurs ! No wonder if some gorgon horror had turned him into stone upon the spot! But, no! he cried, “ The die is cast !" He plunged l he crossed ! and Rome was free no more!

J. Sheridan Knowles.

"THE HEATHEN CHINEE’S” REPLY.*

(Ah Sin to Truthful James.)

Which my name is Ah Sin;

I don't want to call names,
But I must, to begin,

Say of this T. James :
That I am convinced he is rather

Well up in the sinfullest games.

Yes, Al Sin is my name,

Which I need not deny ;
What it means is no shame,

You will find, if you try,
That its meaning is something Celestial,

And how is Celestial for High?

And the way that he dealt,

There could nothing be finer; But somehow I felt,

*Mr. Ah Sin, from China, Because your smile is so child-like,

These fellows play you for a minor !"

But no slouch is Ah Sin,

And from the word“ Go!" I did play for to win,

And Nye-rather so ; And I played the new game as I learned him,

Which showed level head, don't you know?

On my nails there was wax,

But that nothing proves,
When I state the real facts;

I was 'prenticed on shoes,
And the wax that was found on my fingers

Was the kind that our shoemakers use.

And the packs up my sleeve,

My oath I will take,
Were not there to deceive,

But got there by mistake;
I bought them for Ah Sin, the younger,

Who likes some card houses to make.

In my pockets they wero

When I sat down that day; But what with the stir

And excitement of play, They worked up my sleeve from my pocket,

And strange it was, too, I must say. Was it right in Bill Nye

When the trump knave I led,
To blacken my eye,

And on me put a head
Had I known James held the right bower

I'd have played something else in its stead

But I don't play no more,

For my lot now is cast On a euchreless shore,

MY WELCOME BEYOND.

Who will greet me first in heaven,

When that blissful realm I gain, When the hands have ceased from toiling

And the heart lath ceased from pain; When the last farewell is spoken,

Severed the last tender tie,
And I know how sweet, how solemn,

And low blest it is to die?
As my barque glides o'er the waters

or that cold and silent stream, And I see the domes of temples

In the distance brightly gleamTemples of that beauteous city

From all blight and sorrow free, Who adown its golden portals

First will haste to welcome me?

Ah, whose eyes will watch my coming

From that fair and beauteous shore? Whose the voice I first shall listen

That shall teach me Heavenly lore? When my feet shall press the mystic

Borders of that better land, Whose face greet my wondering vision,

Wiose shall clasp the spirit hand ?

Who will gr me first in Ileaven?

Oft the earnest thought will rise, Musing on the unknown glories

Of that home beyond the skies ; Who will be my Heavenly mentor ?

Will it be some scraph bright, — Or an angel from the countless

Myriads of that world of light?

No, not these, for they bave never

Dawned upon my mortal view,But the dear ones gone beforo us,-

They the loved, the tried, the true; They who walked with us life's pathway,

To its joys and griefs were given,

KEEPING HIS WORD.

"ONLY a penny a box,” he said ;
But the gentleman turned away his head,
As if he shrank from the squalid siglit
Of the boy who stood in the failing light.
“Oh, sir !" he stammered, “you cannot know"
(Aud he brushed from his matches the flakes of snow,
That the sudden tear might have chance to fall,)
Or I think-I think you would take them all.
• Hungry and cold at our garret-pane,
Ruby will watch till I come again,
Bringing the loaf. The sun has set,
And he hasn't a crumb of breakfast yet.
“One penny, and then I can buy the bread !"
The gentleman stopped : And you ?" he said;
I-I can put up with them,-hunger and cold,
But Ruby is only five years old.
“I promised our mother before she went-
She knew I would do it, and died content-
I promised her, sir, through best, through worst,
I always would think of Ruby first.”'
The gentleman paused at his open door,
Such tales he had often heard before ;
But he fiunbled his purse in the twilight drear,
“I have nothing less than a shilling here."

“Oh, sir, if you'll only take the pack
I'll bring you the change in a moment back
Indeed you may trust me!” “Trust you?--10!
But here is the shilling; take it and go.”
The gentleman lolied in his cozy chair,
And watched his cigar-wreath melt in air,
And smiled on his children, and rose to sen
The baby asleep on its mother's knee.

“And now it is nine by the clock," he said, “ Time that my darlings were all a-bed; Kiss me good night', and each be sure, When you're saying your prayers, remember the poor.'

Just then came a message—“A boy at the door,”-
But ere it was uttered he stood on the iloor
Half breathless, bewildered, and ragged and strange;
I'm Ruby-Mike's brotherI've brought you the change.

“Mike's liurt, sir; 'twas dark ; the snow made him blinil,
And he didn't take notice the train was behind
Till lic slipped on the track ; and then it whizzed by:
And he's home in the garret; I think he will die.

“ Yet nothing would do liim, sir--nothing would do
But out through the snow I must hurry to you ;
Of his hurt he was certain you wouldn't have heard,
And so you might think he had broken his word.

When the garret they hastily entered, they saw
Two arms mangled, shapeless, outstretched from the straw.
You did it- dear Rubi-God bless you!he said,
And the boy, gladly smiling, sank back-and was dead.

THE SEVENTI PLAGUE OF EGYPT.

'Twas morn--the rising splendor rolled
On marble towers and roofs of gold;
Hall, court and gallery, below,
Were crowded with a living flow;
Egyptian, Arab, Nubian, there,
The bearers of the bow and spear,
The hoary priest, the Chaldec sage,
The slave, the gemmed and glittering page-
Helm, turban and tiara, shone
A dazzling ring round Pharaoh's throne.

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