THE GOOD OLD WAY.

John Mann had a wife who was kind and true,-
A wife who loved him well;

She cared for the house and their only child;
But if I the truth must tell,

She fretted and pined because John was poor,
And his business was slow to pay;

But he only said, when she talked of change,
"We'll stick to the good old way!"

She saw her neighbors were growing rich
And dwelling in houses grand;
That she was living in poverty,

With wealth upon every hand;

And she urged her husband to speculate,
To risk his earnings at play;

But he only said, "My dearest wife,

We'll stick to the good old way."

For he knew that the money that's quickly got
Is the money that's quickly lost;

And the money that stays is the money earned
At honest endeavor's cost.

So he plodded along in his honest style,
And he bettered himself each day,
And he only said to his fretful wife,
"We'll stick to the good old way."

And at last there came a terrible crash,
When beggary, want, and shame

Came down on the homes of their wealthy friends,
While John's remained the same;

For he had no debts and he gave no trust,

"My motto is this," he'd say,

"It's a charm against panics of every kind,➡ "Tis stick to the good old way?"

And his wife looked round on the little house

That was every nail their own,

And she asked forgiveness of honest John

For the peevish mistrust she had shown;

But he only said, as her tearful face
Upon his shoulder lay,

"The good old way is the best way, wife;

We'll stick to the good old way."

THE RUMSELLER'S SONG.-REV. C. W. DENISON.

The rumiseller sat in his den alone,

Singing his thoughts in an undertone.
Shrouded in silence, his work was done,

Since the rise and set of the daily sun.

He had squared his books; he had counted his gains;
Then he startled the night with his spirit-strains;

And he sang, as he hoarded his wages of sin:
"I gather them in! I gather them in!
Gather! gather! gather!

I gather them in!

"The old, with their thin and frosty hair,
The young, with ringlets dark and fair,
The smiling bridegroom and the bride,
The brother and sister, side by side,
Captive and bound in the toils I spread,
On to their doom my victims tread,—
Stranger and neighbor, alien, kin,

I gather them in! I gather them in!
Gather! gather! gather!

I gather them in!

"The statesman, the orator, learned and proud,
The tramp, in the rags of the dirty crowd,
The toiler on land, the child of the sea,

By thousands and thousands come trooping to me!
In the golden ray of the morning light,

In the darkness, and stillness, and dead of night,
From the desert waste, from the city's din,

I gather them in! I gather them in!

Gather! gather! gather!

I gather them in!

"Through all ages of time, through all regions of space,

I trade in the blood of the human race!

My license to kill is all free from a flaw,

For the votes of good Christians enacted the law!

The ballots of party I hold in my hand,

And the leaders are hacks to obey my command!”

So the rumseller sang o'er his wages of sin:

"I gather them in! I gather them in!

Gather! gather! gather!

I gather them in!"

LITERARY ATTRACTIONS OF THE BIBLE. DR. HAMILTON.

God made the present earth as the Home of Man; but had He meant it as a mere lodging, a world less beautiful would have served the purpose. There was no need for the carpet of verdure, or the ceiling of blue; no need for the mountains, and cataracts, and forests; no need for the rainbow, no need for the flowers. A big, round island, half of it arable, and half of it pasture, with a clump of trees in one corner, and a magazine of fuel in another, might have held and fed ten millions of people; and a hundred islands, all made in the same pattern, big and round, might have held and fed the population of the globe.

But man is something more than the animal which wants lodging and food. He has a spiritual nature, full of keen perceptions and deep sympathies. He has an eye for the sublime and the beautiful, and his kind Creator has provided man's abode with affluent materials for these nobler tastes. He has built Mont Blanc, and molten the lake in which its image sleeps. He has intoned Niagara's thunder, and has breathed the zephyr which sweeps its spray. He has shagged the steep with its cedars, and besprent the meadow with its king-cups and daisies. He has made it a world of fragrance and music,a world of brightness and symmetry, a world where the grand and the graceful, the awful and lovely, rejoice together. In fashioning the Home of Man, the Creator had an eye to something more than convenience, and built, not a barrack, but a palace, not a Union-workhouse, but an Alhambra; something which should not only be very comfortable, but very splendid and very fair; something which should inspire the soul of its inhabitant, and even draw forth the "very good" of complacent Deity.

God also made the Bible as the guide and oracle of

man; but had He meant it as a mere lesson-book of duty, a volume less various and less attractive would have answered every end. But in giving that Bible, its divine. Author had regard to the mind of man. He knew that man has more curiosity than piety, more taste than sanctity; and that more persons are anxious to hear some new, or read some beauteous thing, than to read or hear about God and the great salvation. He knew that few would ever ask, What must I do to be saved? till they came in contact with the Bible itself; and, therefore, he made the Bible not only an instructive book, but an attractive one, not only true, but enticing. He filled it with marvelous incident and engaging history; with sunny pictures from Old-World scenery, and affecting anecdotes from the patriarch times. He replenished it with stately argument and thrilling verse, and sprinkled it over with sententious wisdom and proverbial pungency. He made it a book of lofty thoughts and noble images,a book of heavenly doctrine, but withal of earthly adaptation. In preparing a guide to immortality, Infinite Wisdom gave, not a dictionary, nor a grammar, but a Bible-a book which, in trying to reach the heart of man, should captivate his taste; and which, in transforming his affections, should also expand his intellect. The pearl is of great price; but even the casket is of exquisite beauty. The sword is of ethereal temper, and nothing cuts so keen as its double edge; but there are jewels on the hilt, an exquisite inlaying on the scabbard. The shekels are of the purest ore; but even the scrip which contains them is of a texture more curious than any which the artists of earth can fashion. The apples are gold; but even the basket is silver.

The Bible contains no ornamental passages, nothing written for mere display; its steadfast purpose is, "Glory to God in the highest," and the truest blessedness of man; it abounds in passages of the purest beauty and stateliest grandeur, all the grander and all the more beautiful be

cause they are casual and unsought. The fire which flashes from the iron hoof of the Tartar steed as he scours the midnight path is grander than the artificial firework; for it is the casual effect of speed and power. The clang of ocean as he booms his billows on the rock, and the echoing caves give chorus, is more soul-filling and sublime than all the music of the orchestra, for it is the music of that main so mighty that there is a grandeur in all it does,—in its sleep a melody, and in its march a stately psalm. And in the bow which paints the melting cloud there is a beauty which the stained glass or gorgeous drapery emulates in vain; for it is the glory which gilds beneficence, the brightness which bespeaks a double boon, the flush which cannot but come forth when both the sun and shower are there. The style of Scripture has all this glory. It has the gracefulness of a high utility; it has the majesty of intrinsic power; it has the charm of its own sanctity: it never labors, never strives, but, instinct with great realities and bent on blessed ends, it has all the translucent beauty and unstudied power which you might expect from its lofty object and all-wise Author.

THE SERMON.

Five minutes past eight, and the preacher not here,
The papers said sharp,-disappointed, I fear!

"A heaven-born orator," the announcement said;
"A prophet, a great theologian," it read.

The house was crowded, not a vacant seat,
And still a hundred or two on the street.

A warm summer evening,-a quarter past eight,

I wonder how long he expects us to wait?
It's really annoying; my patience won't last

Very long, I'm convinced, for it is running out fast;
But then such a treat; it's worth the delay,
One don't hear an eloquent man every day,