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Preaching and Practice.

THE clergyman bids all be humble in woe,
And tells how sinful is pride,

Then his jewelled fingers darken his brow,
And his book is set aside.

Still the beggar laughs, and declares it a sham,
And says "He may tell his school

Of the tempered wind that guards the lamb,
With his hand deep down in its wool."

The gothic doorway creaks on its hinge,
The clergyman comes from the porch,
Nor pauses to comfort the beggar's twinge,
As he aches in the yard of the church.
But the beggar laughs, and thinks all a sham,
And says" He may tell his school
Of the tempered wind that guards the lamb,
With his hand deep down in its wool."

Slowly the old man creeps from his nook,

And limps on his weary way,

And smiles as he hears men preach from the Book,

But turn all the ragged away.

Then the old fellow laughs, and swears it's a sham,
And says" Priests preach in their school

Of the tempered wind that guards the lamb,
While they warm themselves in the wool."
W. BLANCHARD JERROLD.

THE SAME.

3. THE OUTSIDE OF A DUTCH HOUSE.-On the stoop stands its tenant and a neighbor, telling each other their news; all the stories they have to tell—either gossip about their neighbors, or reminiscences of their younger days; but Nemesis is at hand, and a young girl watching them at the corner, is overhearing every word. The scene is well lighted, and the utensils of a household laying in the foreground, are finely shaded. The landscape behind, in the tints of the evening sun, which is trying to break a passage through the different objects, is masterly done. The head of the lurking girl ought to be observed carefully, as the different lights falling on it form a splendid chiaro obscuro, masterly executed.

Co a Blank Sheet of Paper.

WAN-VISAGED thing! thy virgin leaf
To me looks more than deadly pale,
Unknowing what may stain thee yet,-
A poem or a tale.

Love may light on thy snowy cheek,

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And shake his Eden-breathing plumes;

Then shalt thou tell how Lelia smiles,

Or Angelina blooms.

Satire may lift his bearded lance,

Forestalling Time's slow moving scythe, And, scattered on thy little field, Disjointed bards may writhe.

Perchance a vision of the night,

Some grizzled spectres, gaunt and thin,
Or sheeted corpse, may stalk along,
Or skeleton may grin !

If it should be in pensive hour

Some sorrow-moving theme I try, Ah, maiden, how thy tears will fall,

For all I doom to die.

But if in merry mood I touch

Thy leaves, then shall the sight of the e

Sow smiles as thick on rosy lips,

As ripples on the sea.

Take, then, this treasure to thy trust,
To win some idle reader's smile,

Then fade, and moulder in the dust,
Or swell some bonfire's crackling pile.

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.

THE SAME.

4. THE HAPPY HOUSEHOLD.-A scene of domestic pleasure in humble life. The father having returned from the labor of the day, has taken his violin and is amusing the family, who, intent on the music, exhibit the greatest delight, from the hearty old grandfather to the toddling infant; and even the doll of the youngest child is made, by its little mistress, to dance sympathetically to the gay tones of the fiddle. The graphic still life of the picture, and the varied expression, happy in each face, all being individual, yet having a family resemblance, give peculiar interest to the scene. The grand mother keeps time with her hands, and the mother is bringing out the frugal meal; in the background is sunshine; it is, indeed, a

HAPPY HOUSEHOLD.

Rain in Summer.

How beautiful is the rain!
After the dust and heat,

In the broad and fiery street,

In the narrow lane,

How beautiful is the rain!

How it clatters along the roofs,

Like the tramp of hoofs!

How it gushes and struggles out

From the throat of the overflowing spout!

Across the window pane

It pours and pours;

And swift and wide,

With a muddy tide,

Like a river down the gutter roars

The rain, the welcome rain!

The sick man from his chamber looks

At the twisted brooks;

He can feel the cool

Breath of each little pool;

His fevered brain

Grows calm again,

And he breathes a blessing on the rain.

From the neighboring school

Come the boys,

With more than their wonted noise

And commotion;

And down the wet streets

Sail their mimic fleets,

"Till the treacherous pool

Engulfs them in its whirling

And turbulent ocean.

In the country, on every side,

Where far and wide,

Like a leopard's tawny and spotted hide,

Stretches the plain,

To the dry grass and the dryer grain

How welcome is the rain!

LONGFELLOW.

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