WAITING BY THE GATE. 77 affections in itself, to affect and stupefy the subtlest philosopher; sustaineth movable fortresses for the soldier; maintaineth (as in our island) a wall of defence and watery garrison to guard the state; entertains the sun with vapors, the moon with obsequiousness, the stars also with a natural lookingglass, the sky with clouds, the air with temperateness, the soil with suppleness, the rivers with tides, the hills with moisture, the valleys with fertility containeth most diversified matter for meteors, most multiform shapes, most various, numerous kinds, most immense, difformed, deformed, unformed monsters; once (for why should I longer detain you?) the sea yields action to the body, meditation to the mind, the world to the world, all parts thereof to each part, by this art of arts, navigation. 78 THE HOUSEKEEPER'S SOLILOQUY. And I again am soothed, and beside the ancient gate, In this soft evening sunlight, I calmly stand and wait. Once more the gates are opened, an infant group go out, The sweet smile quenched forever, and stilled the sprightly shout. Oh, frail, frail tree of life, that upon the greensward strews Its fair young buds unopened, with every wind that blows! So from every region, so enter side by side, The strong and faint of spirit, the meek and men of pride, Steps of earth's greatest, mightiest, between those pillars gray, And prints of little feet, that mark the dust away. And some approach the threshold whose looks are blank with fear, And some whose temples brighten with joy are drawing near, As if they saw dear faces, and caught the gracious eye Of Him, the Sinless Teacher, who came for us to die. I mark the joy, the terrors; yet these, within my heart, Can neither wake the dread nor the longing to depart; And, in the sunshine streaming of quiet wood and lea, I stand and calmly wait until the hinges turn for me. THE HOUSEKEEPER'S SOLILOQUY. MRS. F. D. GAGE. How nice her kitchen used to be, Now is not that a great idea, That men should take to sinning, Because a weary, half-sick wife, Can't always smile so winning? When I was young I used to earn My living without trouble, I never dreamed of such a fate, Wife, mother, nurse, seamstress, cook, housekeeper, chambermaid, laundress, dairy woman, and scrub generally, doing the work of six, For the sake of being supported! F all the rides since the birth of time, Body of turkey, head of owl, Shouting and singing the shrill refrain: Over and over the Mænads sang: "Here's Flud Oirson, fur his horrd horrt, Torrd an' futhered an' corr'd in a corrt By the women o' Marble'ead! Small pity for him!-he sailed away From a leaking ship, in Chaleur Bay PULPIT ORATORY. 81 PULPIT ORATORY. T DANIEL DOUGHERTY. HE daily work of the pulpit is not to convince the judgment, but to touch the heart. We all know it is our duty to love our Creator and serve him, but the aim is to make mankind do it. It is not enough to convert our belief to Christianity, but to turn our souls towards God. Therefore the preacher will find in the armory of the feelings the weapons with which to defend against sin, assail Satan and achieve the victory, the fruits of which shall never perish. And oh, how infinite the variety, how inexhaustible the resources, of this armory! how irresistible the weapons, when grasped by the hand of a master! Every passion of the human heart, every sentiment that sways the soul, every action or character in the vast realms of history or the boundless world about us, the preacher can summon obedient to his command. He can paint in vivid colors the last hours of the just man—all his temptations and trials over, he smilingly sinks to sleep, to awake amid the glories of the eternal morn. He can tell the pampered man of ill-gotten gold that the hour draws nigh when he shall feel the cold and clammy hand of Death, and that all his wealth cannot buy him from the worm. He can drag before his hearers the slimy hypocrite, tear from his heart his secret crimes and expose his damnable villainy to the gaze of all. He can appeal to the purest promptings of the Christian heart, the love of God. and hatred of sin. He can depict the stupendous and appalling truth that the Saviour from the highest throne in heaven descended, and here, on earth, assumed the form of fallen man, and for us died on the crose like a malefactor. He can startle and awe-strike his hearers as he descants on the terrible justice of the Almighty in hurling from heaven Lucifer and his apostate legions; in letting loose the mighty waters until they swallowed the wide earth and every living thing, burying the highest mountains in the universal deluge, shadows of the coming of that awful day for which all other days are made. He can roll back the sky as a scroll, and, ascending to heaven, picture its ecstatic joys, where seraphic voices tuned in celestial harmony sing their canticles of praise. He can dive into the depths of hell and describe the howling and gnashing of teeth of the damned, chained in its flaming caverns, ever burning yet never consumed. He can, in a word, in imagination, assume the sublime attributes of the Deity, and, as the supreme mercy and goodness, make tears of |