nician fleets three thousand years ago; that I was looking on a city contemporary with Carthage, and which was old before Rome was born. On the distant mountain side I could see the towers of Ronda, where Julius Cæsar had fought a pitched battle of which he said, that, although he had fought many times for victory, he had fought but once for his life, and here was the spot; and Hannibal had here probably stopped when starting on that march which was to end only in Rome's abasement or her triumph.

I thought of the advent of Christianity, and the dethronement of the idols of Baal; of Roderick, the last of the Goths, and his fateful love; of the coming of the Moors, and of the empire they reared; of the sorrows of Boabdil, the man without a country-the king without a throne; and as these imaginings floated across my brain as pinnacles before a soft south wind, a strain of music struck upon my ear. As its cadences floated across the tremulous floor of the sea, it sounded wondrously familiar. It was our national hymn. I turned; and there, thank God! our flag was flying at the peak of a man-of-war. A great lump rose in my throat, great drops rolled down my cheeks, I reached out my arms as if to enfold it. What to me were the historic scenes of Spain, and its fables, what its olive groves and acacias, what was Xerxes, Saguntum, the Alhambra, or the Guadalquiver? Yet, to one who knew not its significance, it was but a piece of bunting with hues harmoniously blended, not half so attractive as a painting or a landscape; but no Murillo nor the gardens of Atlantis, could have awakened any such emotions in my breast.

What was it that endowed it with such power? It

was the emblem of all I held dear on earth. It was home, country, power, protection, inspiration, restraint, society in solitude, wealth in poverty. From it as from a camera were thrown upon my heart visions of those I loved, of the beautiful city where I was born, of my companions in its streets, of the primeval forests of my State, of its environing lakes, of my country and its happy homes.

F. W. PALMER.

THE FIRST TE DEUM.

WAS Easter night in Milan, and before

TWA

The altar, in the great Basilica,

Saint Ambrose stood. At the baptismal font
The youthful neophyte, Augustine, knelt,
His brow still wet; and at his side low bowed
His mother, Monica, her raised eyes strained
With more than earthly rapture, as she breathed
Her Nunc Dimittis Domine. The words
Of comfort spoken-" Be very sure the child
For whom thou offerest up so many prayers,
Shall not be lost "-had full accomplishment,
And her tired heart found peace.

Saint Ambrose raised

His hands to heaven, and on his face there shone
Light such as glorified the prophet's when

An angel from God's altar bare a coal

And touched his lips. With solemn step and slow

He turned to meet Augustine, as he rose

Up from the pavement; and thereou he brake
Forth in ascriptive chant:

"We praise Thee, God,

And we acknowledge Thee to be the Lord!"
Augustine on the instant caught the tone
Of answering exultation:

"All the earth

Doth worship Thee, the Father everlasting!”
And from the altar-rail came back again

The antiphony:

"To Thee all angels cry

Aloud, the heavens and all the powers therein."

And from the font:

"To Thee the Cherubim

And Seraphim continually do cry,

O Holy, Holy, Holy, Thou Lord God

Of Sabaoth! heaven and earth are full of all
The glory of Thy Majesty !"

And then

With upward gaze, as if he looked upon The unnumbered multitudes about the throne, Saint Ambrose answered, with triumphant voice: "The glorious company of the Apostles""Praise Thee!" brake reverent from Augustine's lips. "The goodly fellowship of the Prophets""Praise Thee!" "The nobly army of the Martyrs ""Praise Thee!" And back and forth responsive rolled The grand antiphonal, until the crowd

That kneeled throughout the vast Basilica
Rose to their feet and toward the altar pressed,
With one strong impulse drawn. The breath of God
Had, to their thought, inspired these mortal lips
To which they listened, held as in a spell
Vatic and wonderful.

And when the last

Response was reached, and the rapt speakers stood
With eyelids dropped, as those who had seen God,
And could not brook at once a mortal face,
Awe-struck, the people bowed their heads and wept,
Then uttered, with acclaim, one long "Amen!"

MARGARET J. PRESTON.

CAT-TAILS.

OUR old cats sat down to tea,

FOUR

And their robes were black as black could be,

For the council was grave, as you will see,

To decide the fate of Tony Lee.

For a cruel, cruel deed had he done :
To a tree near by, and " merely for fun,"
A dear little kitten, just learning to run,
He had wickedly, cruelly by the tail hung.

"An example, I say, must be made of that," Said the oldest and wisest and gravest cat, As at the head of the table she sat,

And held in her paw a morsel of fat.

And heads were nodded and plans were made,
Freely discussed and carefully weighed,
By which the boy should be fully paid

For the crime these cats at his door had laid.

'Twas twelve o'clock when Tony Lee Sprang up in bed to look and see

What the terrible noise could be

That made him tremble and quake in each knee.

Now, picture a moment the sight that he saw:
Everywhere cats, from ceiling to floor;

There were cats on the mantel and cats round the door, There were cats in the closet, and on the bed more.

There were cats on the table and cats on each chair, There were cats in the window, and none would dare To say if they ended on earth or in air,

And each grave cat was dressed with care.

In robes of black they were all arrayed,

And every tail with care was laid

By the side of its owner, who music made

As her head and her body were gently swayed.

And the poor boy gasped, but no word could he say,
For the wails and the shrieks of this horrible lay
As plain to him were as the sun is by day,
And he trembled and shook in a sad, sad way.

Then down from the mantel and on to the bed
Sprang the oldest cat with a gentle tread,
And closer and closer she came to his head,
Till his face was brushed by her tail widespread.

"Never again," she murmured low,

"Shall you harm a cat or cause one woe."

Then a long procession, moving slow,

Passed over the boy from head to toe.