And the wind ceased,-it ceased! That word
Passed through the gloomy sky,

The troubled billows knew their Lord,
And sank beneath his eye.

And slumber settled on the deep,
And silence on the blast,
As when the righteous fall asleep,
When death's fierce throes are past.

Thou that didst rule the angry hour,
And tame the tempest's mood,—
O, send Thy spirit forth in power
O'er our dark souls to brood!

Thou, that didst bow the billow's pride,
Thy mandates to fulfil,

So speak to Passion's raging tide!
Speak, and say: "Peace! be still!"

XXV.-A CHRISTMAS EVE ADVENTURE.

M. M.

NCE on a time, in a queer little town, On the shore of the Zuyder Zee, When all the good people were fast asleep, A strange thing happened to me!

Alone, the night before Christmas,
I sat by the glowing fire,

Watching the flame as it rose and fell,
While the sparks shot high and higher.

Suddenly one of these sparks began

To flicker and glimmer and wink
Like a big bright eye, till I hardly knew
What to do or to say or to think.

Quick as a flash, it changed to a face,
And what in the world did I see
But dear old Santa Claus nodding his head,
And waving his hand to me!

"Oh! follow me, follow me!" soft he cried,
And up through the chimney with him.

I mounted, not daring to utter a word
Till we stood on the chimney's rim.

"Now tell me, I beg you, dear Santa Claus, Where am I going with you?"

He laughingly answered, "Why, don't you know? To travel the wide world through!

"From my crystal palace, far in the North,
I have come since dark,—and see
These curious things for the little folk
Who live on the Zuyder Zee."

Then seating himself in his reindeer sledge,
And drawing me down by his side,

He whistled, and off on the wings of the wind
We flew for our midnight ride.

But first, such comical presents he left
For the little Dutch girls and boys,—
Onions and sausages, wooden-faced dolls,
Cheeses and gingerbread toys!

Away we hurried far to the South,

To the beautiful land of France;

And there we showered the loveliest gifts,
Flaxen-haired dolls that could dance.

Soldiers that marched at the word of command,
Necklaces, bracelets, and rings,

Tiny gold watches, all studded with gems,
And hundreds of exquisite things.

Crossing the Channel, we made a short call
In Scotland and Ireland, too;

Left a warm greeting for England and Wales,
Then over the ocean we flew.

Straight to America, where by myself,
Perched on a chimney high,

I watched him scramble and bustle about
Between the earth and the sky.

Many a stocking he filled to the brim,
And numberless Christmas trees
Burst into bloom at his magical touch!
Then all of a sudden, a breeze

Caught us and bore us away to the South,
And afterward blew us "out West;"
And never till dawn peeped over the hills
Did we stop for a moment's rest.

"Christmas is coming!" he whispered to me, You can see his smile in the sky,

I wish Merry Christmas to all the world!
My work is over,-good-bye!"

Like a flash he was gone, and I was alone,-
For all of this happened to me

Once on a time, in a queer little town
On the shore of the Zuyder Zee!

XXVI. THE FOX AND THE CROW.

THE frost was hard, the ground was bare;
Resolved to mend her scanty fare,

A daring Crow a larder entered,

Where never Crow before had ventured,
And managed safely off to hop

With (what d'you think?) a mutton chop;
(Friend Æsop talks, you know, of cheese,
But meat a Crow might better please),
And, holding in her beak the treasure,
Perched on a tree to feast at leisure.
But scarcely had she reached her station,
When a sly Fox her occupation
Observing, nimbly took his place

Below, and looked her in the face:

"Dear ma'am," said he, "don't think me rude

I would not for the world intrude;

But really your commanding beauty

Obliges me to pay my duty :

Those piercing eyes! those glossy plumes!

Your slave perhaps too far presumes,-
Yet, might I beg a single song?

A voice enchanting must belong
To that fair form!-be kind! I die,
Unless your goodness will comply!"
The simple Crow believed the joke,
Opened her beak, and cried out "Croak!"
Down fell the meat! the wished-for prize
The Fox snaps up, and sneering cries,

"I fear you're hoarse; don't strain your throat; I really scarce can hear a note.

Good-bye; I cannot longer stay,

Yet suffer me one word to say:

When rogues like me praise fools like you,
We have our private ends in view.
Remember this, then, and beware
Of being caught in flatt'ry's snare.

You'll own, unless you're quite a glutton,
The lesson's worth a piece of mutton."

XXVII. THE LITTLE LIGHT.

THE light shone dim on the headland,
For the storm was raging high;
I shaded my eyes from the inner glare,
And gazed on the west, gray sky.
It was dark and lowering; on the sea
The waves were booming loud,

And the snow and the piercing winter sleet
Wove over all a shroud.

"God pity the men on the sea to-night!"
I said to my little ones,

And we shuddered as we heard afar

The sound of minute-guns.

My good man came in, in his fishing coat
(He was wet and cold that night),

And he said, "There'll lots of ships go down
On the headland rocks to-night."

"Let the lamp burn all night, mother,"
Cried little Mary then;

"Tis but a little light, but still

It might save drowning men."
"Oh! nonsense!" cried her father (he
Was tired and cross that night),
"The headland lighthouse is enough."
And he put out the light.

That night, on the rocks below us,

A noble ship went down,

But one was saved from the ghastly wreck,
The rest were left to drown.

"We steered by a little light," he said,
"Till we saw it sink from view;

If they'd only 'a left that light all night
My mates might have been here, too!"
Then little Mary sobbed aloud;

Her father blushed for shame;
"'Twas our light that you saw,

he said,

"And I'm the one to blame.'
'Twas a little light- -how small a thing!
And trifling was its cost,

Yet for want of it a ship went down,
And a hundred souls were lost.

XXVIII. TRUE HEROISM.

ET others write of battles fought,
Of bloody, ghastly fields,

Where honor greets the man who wins,
And death, the man who yields;
But I will write of him who fights
And vanquishes his sins,

Who struggles on through weary years
Against himself, and wins.

He is a hero staunch and brave,
Who fights an unseen foe,
And puts at last beneath his feet

His passions base and low;
Who stands erect in manhood's might
Undaunted, undismayed.—
The bravest man who drew a sword
In foray, or in raid..

It calls for something more than brawn
Or muscle to o'ercome

An enemy who marcheth not

With banner, plume and drum—--
A foe forever lurking nigh,

With silent, stealthy tread;
Forever near your board by day,
At night beside your bed.

All honor, then, to that brave heart!
Though poor or rich he be,
Who struggles with his better part-
Who conquers and is free.

He may not wear a hero's crown,

Or fill a hero's grave,

But truth will place his name among
The bravest of the brave.

TH

one!

XXIX. THE MOTHER OF THE MACCABEES.
J. J. CALLANAN.

HAT mother viewed the scene of blood; her six unconquered sons were gone: fearless she viewed ;-beside her stood her last-her youngest—dearest He looked upon her, and he smiled:-oh, will she save that only child? "By all my love, my son," she said, "the breast that nursed,—the arms that bore, -the unsleeping care that watched thee,-fed,-till manhood's years required no more; by all I've wept and prayed for thee, now, now, be firm and pity me! Look, I beseech thee, on yon heaven, with its high field of azure light; look on this earth, to mankind given, arrayed in beauty and in might; and think, nor scorn thy mother's prayer, on Him who said it-and they were! So shalt thou not this tyrant fear, nor, recreant, shun the glorious strife; behold! thy battle-field is near ; then go, my son, nor heed thy life; go, like thy faithful brothers die,—that I may meet you all on high!" . . . . Like arrow from the bended bow, he sprang upon the bloody pile :-like sun-rise on the morning's snow, was that heroic mother's smile. He died,—nor feared the tyrant's nod-for Judah's law, and Judah's God.

AB

XXX.-THE ANGELS' WHISPER.

SAMUEL LOVER.

BABY was sleeping; its Mother was weeping, for her Husband was far on the wild raging sea; and the tempest was swelling round the fisherman's dwelling, as she cried, "Dermot, darling, oh! come back to me." Her beads while she numbered, the baby still slumbered, and smiled in her face, as she bended her knee; "Oh! bless'd be that warning, my child, thy sleep adorning; for I know that the angels are whispering with thee! And while they are keeping bright watch o'er thy sleeping, oh! pray to them softly, my baby with me; and say thou wouldst rather they'd watched o'er thy father! for I know that the Angels are whispering with thee!"-The dawn of the morning saw Dermot returning, and the wife wept with joy her babe's father to see; and closely caressing her child, with a blessing, said, "I knew that the Angels were whispering with thee!"

D

XXXI.-OCCASIONAL PROLOGUE.

ANONYMUS.

EAR friends, we thank you for your condescension, in deigning thus to lend us your attention; and hope the various pieces we recite (boys though we are), will yield you some delight. The powers of eloquence can charm the soul, inspire the virtuous, and the bad control; can rouse the passions, or their rage can still, and mould a stubborn mob to one man's will. Nor to the Senate of the bar confined, the pulpit shows its influence o'er the mind :—such glorious deeds can eloquence achieve; such fame, such deathless laurels, it can give. Then say not this our weak attempt is vain, for frequent practice will perfection gain: the fear to speak in public it destroys, and drives away the bashfulness of boys. Various the pieces we to-night repeat, and in them various excellences meet; some rouse the soul--some gently soothe the ear, "from grave to gay, from lively to severe.' We would your kind indulgence then besspeak for awkward manner, and for utterance weak; our powers, indeed, are feeble;-but our aim is not to rival Greek or Roman fame; our sole ambition aims at your applause; we are but young-let youth then plead our cause; and, if your approbation be obtained, our wish is answered, and our end is gained.