Cried, "Friend! By the land of our fathers, I pray,
As you hope for salvation, don't give me away!"
The joke was so rich, the old Welshman kept still;
And the classical parson is preaching there still.
H. H. BALLARD.

THERE

EULOGY ON O'CONNELL.

HERE is sad news from Genoa. An aged and weary pilgrim, who can travel no farther, passes beneath the gate of one of her ancient palaces, saying, with pious resignation, as he enters its silent chambers, "Well, it is God's will that I shall never see Rome. I am disappointed, but I am ready to die." The "superb," though fading queen of the Mediterranean holds anxious watch through ten long days over the majestic stranger's wasting frame. And now death is there,-the Liberator of Ireland has sunk to rest in the cradle of Columbus.

Coincidence beautiful and most sublime! It was the very day set apart by the elder daughter of the Church for prayer and sacrifice throughout the world for the children of the sacred island, perishing by famine and pestilence in their houses and in their native fields, and on their crowded paths of exile, on the sea and in the havens, and on the lakes and along the rivers of this far distant land. The chimes rung out by pity for his countrymen were O'Connell's fitting knell; his soul went forth on clouds of incense that rose from altars of Christian charity; and the mournful anthems which recited the faith, and the virtue, and the endurance of Ireland were his becoming requiem.

But has not O'Connell done more than enough for fame?

On the lofty brow of Monticello, under a green old oak, is a block of granite, and underneath are the ashes of Jefferson. Read the epitaph,-it is the sage's claim to immortality: "Author of the Declaration of Independence, and of the Statute for Religious Liberty." Stop now and write an epitaph for Daniel O'Connell: "He gave liberty of conscience to Europe, and renewed the revolutions of the kingdoms toward universal freedom, which began in America and had been arrested by the anarchy of France.”

Let the statesmen of the age read that epitaph and be humble. Let the kings and aristocracies of the earth read it and tremble. Who has ever accomplished so much for human freedom with means so feeble? Who but he has ever given liberty to a people by the mere utterance of his voice, without an army, navy, or revenues, without a sword, a spear, or even a shield? Who but he ever subverted tyranny, and saved the lives of the oppressed, and yet spared the oppressor? Who but he ever detached from a venerable constitution a column of aristocracy, dashed it to the earth, and yet left the ancient fabric stronger than before? Who but he has ever lifted up seven millions of people from the debasement of ages, to the dignity of freedom, without exacting an ounce of gold, or wasting the blood of one human heart?

Whose voice yet lingers like O'Connell's in the ear of tyrants, making them sink with fear of change; and in the ear of the most degraded slaves on earth, awaking hopes of freedom? Who before him has brought the schismatics of two centuries together, conciliating them at the altar of universal liberty? Who but he ever brought Papal Rome and Protestant America to burn. incense together? It was O'Connell's mission to teach mankind that Liberty was not estranged from Christianity,

as was proclaimed by revolutionary France; that she was not divorced from law and public order; that she was not a demon like Moloch, requiring to be propitiated with the blood of human sacrifice; that democracy is the daughte of peace, and, like true religion, worketh by love.

W. H. SEWARD.

A MAN'S A MAN FOR A' THAT.

S there, for honest poverty,

That hangs his head, and a' that?

The coward-slave, we pass him by,
And dare be poor, for a' that!
For a' that, and a' that,

Our toils obscure, and a' that;
The rank is but the guinea's stamp;
The man's the gowd for a' that.

What tho' on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hodden-gray, and a' that;
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
A man's a man, for a' that.

For a' that, and a' that,

Their tinsel show, and a' that;
The honest man, tho' ne'er sae poor,
Is king o' men for a' that.

Ye see yon birkie, ca'ed a lord,

Wha struts, and stares, and a' that.

Tho' hundreds worship at his word,

He's but a coof for a' that:

For a' that, and a' that,

His riband, star, and a' that,
The man of independent mind,

He looks and laughs at a' that.

A king can mak a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, and a' that;

But an honest man's aboon his might,
Guid faith, he maunna fa' that!
For a' that, and a' that,

Their dignities, and a' that,

The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth,
Are higher rank than a' that.

Then let us pray

that come it may,

As come it will for a' that,

That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth,

May bear the gree, and a' that;

For a' that, and a' that;

It's coming yet, for a' that;

When man to man, the warld o'er,

Shall brothers be for a' that.

ROBERT BURNS

THE SAILING OF KING OLAF.

"NORE

From the Atlantic Monthly.

ORROWAY hills are grand to see,
Norroway vales are broad and fair:

Any monarch on earth might be
Contented to find his kingdom there!"
So spake Harold Haardrade, bold,

To Olaf, his brother, with beard red-gold.

“A bargain!” cried Olaf: "Beside the strand
Our ships rock idle. Come, sail away!
Who first shall win to our native land,
He shall be king of old Norroway."

Quoth Harold, the stern: "My vessel for thine
I will not trust to this laggard of mine."

"Take thou my Dragon with silken sails,"
Said Olaf, "The Ox shall be mine in place.
If it pleases our Lord to send me gales,
In either vessel I'll win the race.

With this exchange ar't satisfied ?"
"Ay, brother," the crafty one replied.

King Olaf strode to the church to pray

For blessing of God on crew and ship; But Harold, the traitor, made haste to weigh His anchor, and out of the harbor slip.

66

Pray!" laughed Harold Haardrade, “pray! The wind's in my favor, let sail! Away!"

As Olaf knelt by the chancel rail,

Down the broad aisle came one in haste, With panting bosom and cheeks all pale; Straight to King Olaf's side he paced : "Oh! waste no time in praying," cried he, "For Harold already is far at sea!"

But Olaf answered: "Let sail who will,
Without God's blessing I shall not go."
Beside the altar he tarried still,

While the good priest chanted soft and low;
And Olaf prayed the Lord in his heart,
"I shall win yet if Thou take my part !"