And turning to the kneeling crowd around, he waved his hand for them to retire, and was left alone with the sick girl. He seated himself beside her pillow, and the subdued whisper of the confession mingled with the murmur of the evening air, which lifted the heavy folds of the curtains, and stole in upon the holy scene. Poor Jacqueline had few sins to confess, a secret thought or two towards the pleasures and delights of the world, a wish to live, unuttered, but which to the eye of her self-accusing spirit seemed to resist the wise providence of God ;no more. The confession of a meek and lowly heart is soon made. The door was again opened; the attendants entered, and knelt around the bed, and the priest proceeded,

"And now prepare thyself to receive with contrite heart the body of our blessed Lord and Redeemer. Dost thou believe that our Lord Jesus Christ was conceived by the Holy Spirit, and born of the Virgin Mary?"

"I believe."

And all present joined in the solemn response"I believe."

"Dost thou believe that the Father is God, that the son is God, and that the Holy Spirit is God,three persons and one God?"

"I believe."

"Dost thou believe that the Son is seated on the

right-hand of the Majesty on high, whence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead?"

"I believe."

"Dost thou believe that by the holy sacraments of the church thy sins are forgiven thee, and that thus thou art made worthy of eternal life?"

"I believe."

"Dost thou pardon, with all thy heart, all who have offended thee in thought, word, or deed?”

"I pardon them."

“And dost thou ask pardon of God and thy neighbor for all offences thou hast committed against them, either in thought, word, or deed?”

"Then repeat after me: O Lord Jesus, I am not worthy, nor do I merit, that thy divine Majesty should enter this poor tenement of clay; but according to thy holy promises be my sins forgiven, and my soul washed white from all transgression."

Then taking a consecrated wafer from the vase, he placed it between the lips of the dying girl, and while the assistant sounded the little silver bell, said,

"Corpus Domini nostri Jesu Christi custodiat animam tuam in vitam eternam."

And the kneeling crowd smote their breasts and responded in one solemn voice,

"Amen!"

The priest then took from the silver box on the

table a little golden rod, and dipping it in holy oil, annointed the invalid upon the hands, feet, and breast, in the form of the cross. When these ceremonies were completed, the priest and his attendants retired, leaving the mother alone with her dying child, who, from the exhaustion caused by the preceding scene, sank into a death-like sleep.

"Between two worlds life hovered like a star,

'Twixt night and morn upon the horizon's verge."

The long twilight of the summer evening stole on; the shadows deepened without, and the night-lamp glimmered feebly in the sick chamber; but still she slept. She was lying with her hands clasped upon her breast, her pallid cheek resting upon the pillow, and her bloodless lips apart, but motionless and silent as the sleep of death. Not a breath interrupted the silence of her slumber. Not a move

ment of the heavy and sunken eyelid not a tremble

of the lip, not a shadow on the marble brow, told when the spirit took its flight. It passed to a better world than this.

"There's a perpetual spring,perpetual youth;

No joint-benumbing cold, nor scorching heat,
Famine nor age, have any being there."

OUR YANKEE SHIPS.

JAMES T. FIELDS.

OUR Yankee ships! in fleet career,
They linger not behind,

Where gallant sails from other lands
Court favoring tide and wind.
With banners on the breeze, they leap
As gaily o'er the foam

As stately barks from prouder seas,
That long have learned to roam.

The Indian wave with luring smiles
Swept round them bright to-day,
And havens to Atlantic isles

Are opening on their way;

Ere yet these evening shadows close,
Or this frail song is o'er,

Full many a straining mast will rise

To greet a foreign shore.

High up the lashing Northern deep,

Where glimmering watch-lights beam;

Away in beauty where the stars

In tropic brightness gleam;

Where 'er the sea-bird wets her beak,
Or blows the stormy gale;
On to the Water's farthest verge,
Our ships majestic sail.

They dip their keels in every stream
That mirrors back the sky;

And where the restless billows heave,
Their lofty pennants fly;

They furl their sails in threatening clouds
That float across the main,

To link with love earth's distant bays
In many a golden chain.

They deck our halls with sparkling gems,
That shone on Orient strands,

And garlands round the hills they bind,
From far-off sunny lands;

But we will ask no gaudy wreath

From foreign clime or realm, While safely glides our ship of State With Genius at the helm.