A prophet on the Sabbath-day

Had touched his sightless eyes with clay,
And made him see who had been blind;
Their words passed by him like the wind
Which raves and howls, but cannot shock
The hundred-fathom-rooted rock.

Their threats and fury all went wide;
They could not touch his Hebrew pride.
Their sneers at Jesus and His band,
Nameless and homeless in the land,-
Their boasts of Moses and his Lord,
All could not change him by one word.

I know not what this man may be
Sinner or saint; but as for me,
One thing I know, that I am he
Who once was blind, and now I see.

They were all doctors of renown,-
The great men of a famous town,

With deep brows, wrinkled, broad, and wise,
Beneath their wide phylacteries;

The wisdom of the east was theirs,
And honor crowned their silver hairs.
The man they jeered and laughed to scorn
Was unlearned, poor, and humbly born;
But he knew better far than they
What came to him that Sabbath-day;
And what the Christ had done for him
He knew, and not the Sanhedrim.

DIARY OF A SEA VOYAGE.
A Journal of Misery.

THURSDAY (SECOND DAY OUT).

Rolling and pitching. Not hungry as usual.
Kept on deck, except sundry visits to Neptune.

A. M., sick. P. M., sicker.

Accounts continually cast; never balanced.

Went below. Will appear at Queenstown.

FRIDAY.

Warm water diet; not nutritious, but sufficiently so for

the purpose designed.

Ate no food. Want to go home.

Sickness increasing. Gag and agag. Steward busy.

No conveniences for suicide.

1

Want to walk home.

Beef tea and crackers. Down, and then up.

P. M., worse. Moans and groans.

Why did they let me go!

Gulf stream, temp. 80. Stateroom stifling. Going home by rail.

Warm water diet continued.

Doctor appeared. Administered tar pill. Very choice. Held it five minutes.

Bandages and plasters. Arrowroot tea. Quite soothing. First drink came up on time; second remained. Felt en couraged.

SATURDAY.

Better, but weak. Slept on galley loft from 4 to 10 a. m.
Hard tack for breakfast. Appeared convalescent.

Congratulations from those who knew how it was them

selves.

Many had been there; others were going.

L- -'s turn next. Accounts rendered on time, and in perfect order.

A model of precision. Neatness exemplified.
Wanted to go back. Disgusted with life.

Inward emotions overpowering. Steward said, fight against it.

Tried to, but couldn't.

Mental determination insufficient.

Victory of matter over mind.

Meals at a discount. Dining-room kept aloof.

Lemons and remedies of no use.

Beef tea a failure. Seidlitz powders of no avail.
Surgeon at loss. Says will be better soon.

Don't want to be better. Prefer extermination.

Steward calm and serene. Smiles ghastly.

Holds on to the door. Says, "This is a calm."

Proffers the basin. Empties contents.

Says "Sea is smooth as a bowl of milk." Very consoling.
Groans from A flat to G sharp.

Up notes the worst.

Adjoining rooms melodious.

1

Same tunes but different keys.

Closets reverberate similar strains.

Hurrah without the "h."

Bowls and other crockery in demand.

Ejections more frequent. Quantity diminishing, but quality kept up.

Port holes barred. Fresh air to be avoided.

Don't want to see Europe. Nothing there to see. Won't pay for this.

A sail passing to starboard! Don't want to see a sail.
A whale spouting near "the banks!" Don't want to see a

whale.

Want to go home. Had enough.

Evening, carried on deck by steward (or rather dragged). Stopped at half-way house for refreshments. Felt better. Rested an hour on deck. Gazing toward the setting sun. Homesick! Oh, no!

Tried to go back alone. Slipped and rolled down stairs. Stopped at bottom. Convenient resting place.

Hauled to room by steward.

More arrowroot and brandy.

Called for basin.

Quite soothing.

Hat and shawl hung up on floor.

Slept on lounge with overcoat and boots.

Dreamt of home, sweet home!

Improving.

SUNDAY.

Washed face and hands for first time. Combed my hair. Recognized by friends as a man that was.

First clean collar. Brushed and cleaned my clothes.

More recognitions. Service in saloon. Prayers read for

the Queen.

Quite appropriate. Shall see her shortly.

Dinner at 4. Fearful appetite.

A pig in appearance. A pig in fact.

Iceberg at 5. Served up on deck.

Left table at once.

100 feet high and 2 miles square. Very cooling.

Next course, fruits and coffee. 6 p. m.-5 sails in sight.

MONDAY.

Recovered. A new man. Exquisite toilet.

Smooth sea. Portholes opened. State-room steady and

Brushed teeth and cleaned nails.

Wonderful transformation! Cravat tied. Very distingue. Looked around to see if any had been sick.

How could they on such a quiet voyage?

Walked the deck like an old salt. Greeted as such by of ficers.

Invalids coming to the surface.

Present appearances indicate past distress.

I greeted some and congratulated others.
Said they had not been well. [I believed them.]
Expressed my sorrow and extended my sympathy.

WEDNESDAY.

Not sea-sick, but sick of the sea.

THE SURGEON'S TALE.-BARRY CORNWALL.

Verdict-" Found Dead."

Some years ago, a paragraph appeared in some of the daily newspapers, giving an account of an inquest held on the body of a young woman "found dead" in some obscure street or lane in London. The body was discovered, frightfully emaciated, scantily clothed, and in a poor garret which was entirely destitute of every article of furniture, and other conforts, except a few ragged love-letters which she had preserved through every privation. According to the evidence, she had been at one time a person of considerable beauty, and had evidently died of hunger.

'Twas on a dark December evening,

Loud the blast and bitter cold;
Downward came the whirling waters,
Deep and black the river rolled;
Not a dog beneath the tempest-
Not a beggar upon his beat;

Wind and rain, and cold and darkness,
Swept through every desert street.

Muffled to the teeth, that evening
I was struggling in the storm,

Through pestilent lanes and hungry alleys;
Suddenly an ancient form

Peered from out a gloomy doorway,

And with trembling croak, it said—

"In the left-hand empty garret

You will find a woman-dead.

"

Never stepped a finer creature,
When she was a simple maid;
But she did like many another—
Loved a man, and was betrayed.
I have seen her in her carriage
Riding, diamonds in her hair;
And I've seen her starving, (starving,
Do you
hear?) and now-she's there!"

Up the worn and slippery stair
With a quickened pulse I sprung;
Famine, filth, and mean despair
Round about the darkness hung:
No kind vision met my glances
Friend or helper of the poor;
So the crazy room I entered,

And looked down upon the floor.

There, on the rough and naked boards,
A long, gaunt, wasted figure lay,
Murdered in its youth by hunger,
All its beauty-wrinkled clay.
Life's poor wants had left her nothing,
Clothes nor fuel-food nor bed,
Nothing-save some ragged letters,
Whereon lay the ghastly head.

*

'Nothing!”—yet what more could pity Crave, for one about to die,

Than sweet words from one she worshiped, (Sweet, though every word a lie!) In the morning of her pleasure,

In the midnight of her pain,

They were all her wealth, her comfort,
Treasured-ay, and not in vain.

And with her now they lie moldering,
And a date upon a stone

Telleth where, to end the story,

Love's poor outcast sleeps alone.

Mourn not; for at length she sleepeth

The soft slumber of the dead,

Resting on her loved love-letters-
Last fit pillow for her head.

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