But then there's no accountin' for what some people do;
The finest clothing nowadays oft gets the finest pew;

But when we reach the blessed home, all undefiled by sin,
We'll see wealth beggin' at the gate while poverty goes in.

I could n't hear the sermon, I sat so far away,

So, through the hours of service, I could only "watch and pray,"

Watch the doin's of the Christians sitting near me, round about; Pray that God would make them pure within as they were pure without.

While I sat there, lookin' all around upon the rich and great,
I kept thinking of the rich man and the beggar at his gate;
How, by all but dogs forsaken, the poor beggar's form grew cold,
And the angels bore his spirit to the mansions built of gold;
How at last the rich man perished, and his spirit took its flight
From the purple and fine linen to the home of endless night;
There he learned, as he stood gazin' at the beggar in the sky,
"It is n't all of life to live, nor all of death to die."

I doubt not there were wealthy sires in that religious fold
Who went up from their dwellings like the Pharisee of old;
Then returned home from their worship with a head uplifted
high,

To spurn the hungry from their door with naught to satisfy.
Out, out! with such professions; they are doin' more to-day
To stop the weary sinner from the gospel's shinin' way
Than all the books of infidels; than all that has been tried
Since Christ was born in Bethlehem-since Christ was crucified.
How simple are the works of God, and yet how very grand!
The shells in ocean caverns-the flowers on the land-

He gilds the cloud of evenin' with the gold light from his throne,

Not for the rich man only; not for the poor alone.

Then why should man look down on man because of lack of gold?

Why seat him in the poorest pew because his clothes are old?
A heart with noble motives-a heart that God has blest-
May be beatin' heaven's music 'neath that faded coat and vest.

I am old—I may be childish-but I love simplicity;

I love to see it shinin' in a Christian's piety;

Jesus told us in His sermons, in Judea's mountains wild,
He that wants to go to heaven must be like a little child.

Our heads are growing gray, dear wife-our hearts are beatin' slow

In a little while the Master will call for us to go;

When we reach the pearly gateways, and look in with joyful

eyes,

We'll see no stylish worship in the temple of the skies.

-John H. Yates.

CCXVII.-SHORT SELECTIONS.

CONTENT.

THE bliss of man (could pride that blessing find)

Is not to act or think beyond mankind,

No pow'rs of body or of soul to share,

But what his nature and his state can bear.
Why has not man a microscopic eye?

For this plain reason, man is not a fly.
Say for what use were finer optics given?
T'inspect a mite, not comprehend the heaven.
Or touch, if tremblingly alive all o'er,

To smart and agonize at every pore!

Or quick effluvia darting through the brain,

Die of a rose in aromatic pain!

If nature thund'red in his op'ning ears,

And stunned him with the music of the spheres,
How would he wish that heaven had left him still
The whisp'ring zephyr, and the purling rill?
Who finds not Providence all good and wise,
Alike in what it gives and what denies?

SUSPICION.

LET me have men about me that are fat,
Sleek-headed men, and such as sleep o' nights!
Yond' Cassius has a lean and hungry look;
He thinks too much; such men are dangerous.

-Pope.

Would he were fatter:-But I fear him not;
Yet if my name were liable to fear,

I do not know the man I should avoid

So soon as that spare Cassius.

CONSCIENCE.

Ir is a dang'rous

-Shakespeare.

A man

A man

Thing; it makes a man a coward.
Can not steal but it accuseth him.
Can not swear but it checks him:
'Tis a blushing, shame-fac'd spirit, that
Mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills

One full of obstacles. It made me once
Restore a purse of gold, that by chance I
Found. It beggars any man that keeps it.
It is turned out of towns and cities for
A dang'rous thing; and every man that means
To live well, endeavors to trust to himself,
And live without it.

-Shakespeare.

THE world of fiction hardly contains a more thrilling chapter than an incident in the life of the Rev. Mr. Lee, Presbyterian minister.

Mr. Lee was sitting in his study about midnight, preparing a discouse to deliver to his congregation, when he heard a noise behind him, and became conscious that some one was in the room. Mr. Lee exclaimed, "What's the matter?" and, turning around his chair, beheld the grim face of a burglar, who was pointing a pistol at his breast. The ruffian had entered the house by a side window, supposing all the occupants were asleep.

"Give me your watch and money," said he, "or I will fire." "You may put down your weapons, for I shall make no resistance, and you are at liberty to take all the valuables that I possess," was Mr. Lee's calm reply.

The burglar withdrew his menacing pistol, and Mr. Lee said:

"I will conduct you to the place where my most precious treasures are placed."

He opened the door and pointed to the cot where his two children lay in the sleep of innocence and peace.

"These," said he, "are my most precious jewels. Will you take them?"

He proceeded to say that as a minister of the Gospel he had few earthly possessions, and that his means were devoted to but one object—the education of his two motherless children. The burglar was deeply and visibly affected by these remarks. Tears filled his eyes, and he expressed the utmost sorrow for the wicked act he had commited.

After a few remarks by Mr. Lee, the would-be criminal consented to kneel and join in prayer; and there, in that lonely house, amid the silence of midnight, the offender poured forth his remorse and penitence, while the representative of religion, of peace and good will, told him to "go and sin no more.'

CCXIX.-SILENCE.

How eloquent is silence! Acquiescence, contradication, difference, disdain, embarrassment, and awe, may all be expressed by saying nothing. It may be necessary to illustrate this apparent paradox by a few examples. Do you seek an assurance of your lady love's affection? The fair one confirms her lover's fondest hopes by a compliant and assenting silence. Should you hear an assertion, which you may deem false, made by some one of whose veracity politeness may withhold you from openly declaring your doubt, you denote a difference of opinion by remaining silent. Are you receiving a reprimand from a superior? You mark your respect by an attentive silence. Are you compelled to listen to the frivolous conversation of a fop? You signify

your opinion of him by treating his loquacity with contemptuous silence. Are you, in the course of any negotiation, about to enter on a discussion painful to your own feelings and to those who are concerned in it? The subject is almost invariably prefaced by an awkward silence. Silence has also its utility and advantages. And first, what an invaluable portion of domestic strife might have been prevented; how often might the quarrel, which, by mutual aggravation, has perhaps terminated in bloodshed, have been checked at its commencement by a judicious silence! Those persons only who have experienced them are aware of the beneficial effects of that forbearance which, to the exasperating threat, the malicious sneer, or the unjustly imputated culpability, shall never answer a word. Secondly, there are not wanting instances where the reputation, fortune, the happiness, nay, the life of a fellow creature, might be preserved by a charitable silence.

THE REAL GENTLEMAN.

NOT he who displays the latest fashion-dresses in extravagance, with gold rings and chains to display; not he who talks the loudest, and makes constant use of profane language and vulgar words; not he who is proud and overbearing, who oppresses the poor, and looks with contempt on honest industry; nor he who can not control his passions, and humble himself as a child; no, none of these are real gentlemen. It is he who is kind and obligingwho is ready to do you a favor with no hope of reward-who visits the poor, and assists those who are in need-who is more careful of his heart than of the dress of his personwho is humble and sociable-not irascible or revengefulwho always speaks the truth without resorting to profane or indecent words. Such a man is a gentleman, wherever he may be found. Rich or poor, high or low, he is entitled to the appellation.