side, in humble prayer, while the same sunbeam shines upon the guilty and the guiltless one, and hymns of joy proclaim through Heaven the Triumph of a soul Forgiven!

'Twas when the golden orb had set, while on their knees they linger'd yet, there fell a light, more lovely far than ever came from sun or star, upon the tear that, warm and meek, dew'd that repentant sinner's cheek: to mortal eye this light might seem a northern flash or meteor beam-but well the enraptured Peri knew 'twas a bright smile the Angel threw from Heaven's gate, to hail that tear her harbinger of glory

near !

"Joy, joy for ever! my task is done-the Gates are pass'd, and Heaven is won! Oh, am I not happy? I am, I am. To thee, sweet Eden! how dark and sad are the diamond turrets of Shadukiam, and the fragant bowers of Amberabad !

"Farewell, ye odours of Earth, that die, passing away like a lover's sigh; my feast is now of the Tooba Tree, whose scent is the breath of Eternity!

Farewell, ye vanishing flowers, that shone in my fairy wreath, so bright and brief,-oh! what are the brightest that e'er have blown, to the lote-tree, springing by Alla's Throne, whose flowers have a soul in every leaf! Joy, joy for ever! my task is done—the Gates are pass'd, and Heaven is won!"

Incident of the French Camp.

I.

You know, we French stormed Ratisbon:

A mile or so away,

On a little mound, Napoleon

Stood on our storming-day;

With neck out-thrust, you fancy how,

Legs wide, arms locked behind,

As if to balance the prone brow

Oppressive with its mind.

II.

Just as perhaps he mused "My plans
That soar, to earth may fall,
Let once my army-leader Lannes
Waver at yonder wall,”—

Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew
A rider, bound on bound
Full-galloping; nor bridle drew
Until he reached the mound.

III.

Then off there flung in smiling joy,
And held himself erect

By just his horse's mane, a boy:
You hardly could suspect-
(So tight he kept his lips compressed,
Scarce any blood came through)

You looked twice ere you saw his breast
Was all but shot in two.

IV.

"Well," cried he, "Emperor, by God's grace

We've got you Ratisbon !
The Marshal's in the market-place,
And you'll be there anon

To see your flag-bird flap his vans

Where I, to heart's desire,

Perched him!" The chief's eye flashed; his plans Soared up again like fire.

V.

The chief's eye flashed; but presently

Softened itself, as sheathes

A film the mother-eagle's eye

When her bruised eaglet breathes;

"You're wounded!"

"Nay," the soldier's pride

Touched to the quick, he said:

"I'm killed, Sire!" And his chief beside,

Smiling the boy fell dead.

Nottman.

ALEX ANDERSON.

That was Nottman waving at me,

But the steam fell down, so you could not see;
He is out to-day with the fast express,

And running a mile in the minute, I guess.

Danger? None in the least, for the way

Is good, though the curves are sharp, as you say,
But bless you! when trains are a little behind,
They thunder around them-a match for the wind.
Nottman himself is a devil to drive,
But cool and steady, and ever alive

To whatever danger is looming in front,

When a train has run hard, to gain time for a shunt.

But he once got a fear, though, that shook him with pain,
Like sleepers beneath the weight of a train,

I remember the story well, for you see
His stoker, Jack Martin, told it to me.

Nottman had sent down the wife for a change
To the old folks living at Riverly Grange-
A quiet, sleepy sort of a town,

Save when the engines went up and down;

For close behind it, the railway ran
In a mile of a straight, if a single span ;

Three bridges were over the straight, and between
Two, the distant signal was seen.

She had with her, her boy—a nice little chit

Full of romp and mischief, and childish wit,

And every time that we thunder'd by,

Both were out on the watch, for Nottman and I.

Well, one day," said Jack, "on our journey down, Coming round on the straight, at the back of the town, I saw right ahead-in front of our track

In the haze -on the rail-something dim like and black.

"I look'd over at Nottman, but, ere I could speak
He shut off the steam, and with one wild shriek
A whistle took to the air, with a bound,
But—the object ahead-never stirr'd at the sound.

“In a moment, he flung himself down on his knee,
Leant over the side of the engine to see-
Took one look-then sprang up-crying, breathless
and pale-

'Brake! Jack! It's some one asleep on the rail?'

"The rear brakes were whistled on in a trice,
While I screw'd on the tender brake, firm as a vice;
But still we tore on, with this terrible thought
Sending fear to our hearts-'Can we stop her or not?'

"I took one look again, then sung out to my mate-
'We can never draw up—we've seen it too late!'
When, sudden and swift, like the change in a dream,
Nottman drew back the lever, and flung on the steam.

"The great wheels stagger'd, and span with the strain,
While the spray from the steam fell around us like rain;
But we slackened our speed, till we saw with a wild
Throb at the heart-right before us—a child!

"It was lying asleep, on the rail-with no fear
Of the terrible death, that was looming so near;
The sweat on us both, broke as cold as the dew
Of death—as we questioned—'What can we do?'

"It was done-swift as acts that take place in a dream— Nottman rush'd to the front, and knelt down on the

beam

Put one foot in the couplings, the other he kept
Right in front of the wheel, for the child that still slept.

"Saved!" I burst forth, my heart leaping with pride,
For one touch of his foot, sent the child to the side,
But Nottman look'd up, his lips white as with foam,
'My God! Jack,' he cried, Its my own little Tom.'

66

'He shrunk—would have slipped, but one grasp of

my hand

Held him firm, till the engine was brought to a stand, Then I heard from behind, a shriek take to the air, And I knew that the voice of a mother was there.

“The boy was alright, had got off with a scratch;
He had crept through the fence in his frolic, to watch
For his father; but, wearied with mischief and play,
Had fallen asleep on the rail where he lay.

"For days after that, on our journey down

Ere we came to the straight, at the back of the town,
As if the signal were up, with its gleam
Of red, Nottman always shut off the steam."

The First Settler's Story.

It ain't the funniest thing a man can do—
Existing in a country that's just new;
Nature has moved in first-a good long while-
And fixed things up exactly her own style.

Well, when I first invested this retreat,
Things to my view looked frightful incomplete;
But Nature seemed quite cheerful all about me,
A carrying on her different trades without me.
But I had come with heart-thrift in my song,
And brought my wife and plunder right along.

My girl-wife-she was brave as she was good,
And helped me every blesséd way she could d;
She learned a hundred masculine things to do:
She aimed a shot-gun pretty middlin' true,
Although, in spite of my express desire,
She always shut her eyes before she'd fire,

Well, neighbourhoods meant counties in those days; The roads didn't have accommodating ways;

And maybe weeks would pass before she'd see-
And much less talk with any one but me.