Soft purple shadows wrapped the dewy fields!
And then he came and called me. Then I gazed
For the first time on that sweet face. Those eyes,
From out of which, as from a window, shone
Divinity, looked on my inmost soul,
And lighted it forever. Then his words.
Broke on the silence of my heart, and made
The whole world musical. Incarnate love
Took hold of me and claimed me for its own;
I followed in the twilight, holding fast
His mantle.

Oh what holy walks we had, Thro' harvest fields, and desolate, dreary wastes; And oftentimes he leaned upon my arm,

Wearied and way worn. I was young and strong,
And so upbore him. Lord! now I am weak,
And old, and feeble. Let me rest on thee!
So, put thine arm around me. Closer still!
How strong thou art! The twilight draws apace;
Come, let us leave these noisy streets and take
The path to Bethany, for Mary's smile
Awaits us at the gate, and Martha's hands
Have long prepared the cheerful evening meal.
Come, James, the Master waits, and Peter, see,
Has gone some steps before.

What say you,

friends?

That this is Ephesus, and Christ has gone
Back to his kingdom? Ay, 't is so, 't is so.
I know it all; and yet, just now, I seemed
To stand once more upon my native hills
And touch my Master! Oh! how oft I've seen
The touching of his garments bring back strength

To palsied limbs! I feel it has to mine.

Up! bear me once more to my church-once more!
There let me tell them of a Saviour's love;
For by the sweetness of my Master's voice
I think he must be very near—

Just now,
Coming, I trust, to break the veil which time.
Has worn so thin that I can see beyond,

And watch his footsteps.

So, raise up my head.

How dark it is! I cannot seem to see

The faces of my flock. Is that the sea
That murmurs so, or is it weeping? Hush!
My little children! God so loveth the world
He gave his Son; so love ye one another;
Love God and man, Amen. Now bear me back.
My legacy unto an angry world is this,

I feel my work is finished. Are the streets so full?
What call the folks my name? "The holy John?”
Nay, write me rather Jesus Christ's beloved,

And lover of

my children.

Once more upon my couch,

Lay me down

and open wide

The eastern window. See! there comes a light
Like that which broke upon my soul at eve,
When, in the dreary Isle of Patmos, Gabriel came
And touched me on the shoulder. See! it grows
As when we mounted toward the pearly gates.
I know the way! I trod it once before!

And hark! it is the song

Of glory to the Lamb!

the ransomed sang

How loud it sounds!

And that unwritten one! Methinks my soul
Can join it now. But who are these who crowd

The shining way? O joy! it is the eleven!
With Peter first; how eagerly he looks!

How bright the smiles are beaming on James' face
I am the last. Once more we are complete
To gather 'round the Paschal feast. My place
Is next my Master. O my Lord! my Lord!
How bright thou art, and yet the very same
I loved in Galilee! "Tis worth the hundred years
To feel this bliss! So lift me up, dear Lord,
Unto thy bosom, full of perfect peace.

NIAGAR

A DAY AT NIAGARA.

IAGARA FALLS is one of the finest structures in the known world. I have been visiting this favorite watering-place recently, for the first time, and was well pleased. A gentleman who was with me said it was customary to be disappointed in the Falls, but that subsequent visits were sure to set that all right. He said that the first time he went, the hack fares were so much higher than the Falls, that the Falls appeared insignificant. But that is all regulated now. The hackmen have been tamed, numbered, and placarded, and blackguarded, and brought into subjection to the law, and dosed with moral principle till they are as meek as missionaries. There are no more outrages and extortions. That sort of thing cured itself. It made the Falls unpopular by getting into the newspapers; and whenever a public evil achieves that sort of success for itself, its days are numbered. It became apparent that either the Falls had to be discontinued, or the hack men had to subside. They could not

dam the Falls, and so they did the hackmen. One can be comfortable and happy there now.

I drank up most of the American Fall before I learned that the waters were not considered medicinal. Why are people left in ignorance that way? I might have gone on and ruined a fine property, merely for the want of a little trifling information. And yet the sources of information at Niagara Falls are not meagre. You are sometimes in doubt there about what you ought to do, but you are seldom in doubt about what you must not do. No, the signs keep you posted. If an infant can read, that infant is measurably safe at Niagara Falls. In your room at the hotel you will find your course marked out for you in the most convenient way, by means of placards on the wall like these:

"Pull the bell-rope gently, but don't jerk."

"Bolt your

door."

"Don't scrape matches on the wall." "Turn off your gas when you retire."

"Tie up your dog."

"If you place your boots outside the door, they will be blacked, but the house will not be responsible for their return." (This is a confusing and tanglesome proposition, because it moves you to deliberate long and painfully as to whether it will really be any object to you to have your boots blacked unless they are returned.)

"Give your key to the omnibus-driver, if you forget and carry it off with you."

Outside the hotel, wherever you wander, you are intelligently assisted by the signs. You cannot come to grief as long as you are in your right mind. But the difficulty is to stay in your right mind with so much instruction to keep track of. For instance:

"Keep off the grass."

"Don't climb the trees."

"Hands off the vegetables."

"Do not hitch your horses to the shrubbery." "Visit the Cave of the Winds."

"Have your portrait taken in your carriage." "Forty per cent. in gold levied on all peanuts or other Indian curiosities purchased in Canada."

"Photographs of the Falls taken here."

"Visitors will please notify the superintendent of any neglect on the part of employes to charge for commodities or services."

"Don't throw stones down; they may hit people below."

"The proprietors will not be responsible for parties who jump over the Falls."

To tell the plain truth, the multitude of signs annoyed me. It was because I noticed at last that they always happened to prohibit exactly the very thing I was just wanting to do. I desired to roll on the grass; the sign prohibited it. I wished to climb a tree; a sign prohibited it. I longed to smoke; the sign prohibited it. And I was just in the act of throwing a stone over to astonish and pulverize such parties as might be picnicing below, when a sign I have just mentioned forbade that. Even that satisfaction was denied me (and I a friendless orphan). There was no resource now but to seek consolation in the flowing bowl. I drew my flask from my pocket, but it was all in vain. A sign confronted me, which said:

"No drinking allowed on these premises."

On that spot I might have perished of thirst but for the saving words of an honored maxim that fitted through my memory at that critical moment, "All signs fail in a dry time." Common law takes precedence of the statutes. I was saved.