(ME DOLLAR PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE. Thursday Morning, December 22, 1859 iwltritb U&cirn. A CHRISTMAS HYMN. BY ALFRED DOMETT. It was the calm and silent night! Seven hundred years and fifty-three Had Rome been growing up to might, And now was <jueen of land and sea. No sound was heard of clashing wars— Peace brooded o'er the bus d domain : Apollo. Pallas, Jove, and Mars, , Held undisturbed their ancient reign, In the solemn midnight, Centuries ago, 'T was in the calm and silent night, The senator of haughty Home Impatient urged his chariot's flight, From lordly revel rolling home : Triumphal arches gleaming swell His breast with thoughts of boundless sway ; What recked the Roman wh it befell A paltry province far away, " In the solemn midnight, Centuries ago ? Within that province far away. Went plodding home a weary boor ; A streak of light before him lay. Fallen through a half shut stable-door Across his path. He passed—for naught Told what was going on within ; How keen the stars, his only thought— The air, how calm, aud cold, and thin, In the solemn midnight, Centuries ago! Oh, strange indifference ! low and high Drowsed over common joys and cares ; The earth was still—but knew not why The world was listcng unawares, How calm a moment may-precede One that shall thrill the world forever! To that still moment, none would heed, Man's doom was linked no more to sever, In the solemn midnight, Centuries ago! It is the calm and solemn night! A thousand bells ring out, and throw Their joyous peals abroad, and smito The darkness—charmed and holy now ! The night that first no shame had woru, To it a happy name is given ; For in that stable lay, new-born. The peaceful Prince of earth and heaven. In the solemn midnight. Centuries ago.' i o g r a p \)\ c a I. [From the Century.] CHARLES LEE, OF TIIU REVOLUTION. On a recent tour to the Virginia mountains, I paid a visit to the rude and time-worn edi fice to which General Horatio Gates, after his defeat at Camden, retired in sulieu despair. To the left, as I entered, was a large apart ment, apparently designed tor a dining room, and sweeping clear from wall to wall of the building. On the right was a smaller room, with three front windows. There tvds here a enrioas old'print, entitled "The Flower of New York," if I remember rightly, and opposite an other sketch, highly colored, of an American dragoon in pursuit of an Englishman, from whose unfortunate back protrudes the butt of a bayonet, which has pierced him. But the object of most interest in the old apartment was a window pane, on which was scratched, with a diamond ring, the initials "H. G." sur mounted bv a coat of arms ; and on another pane, in the round, Biimistakenable handwrit ing of the men of the Revolution, was the in scription "General C." At the letter "C" the hand of the writer hsd suddenly piused, and to one unfamiliar with the former tenants of the ancient mansion the res', of the name wonld remain a mystery. There is, however, no reason to doubt upon the subject. Local history informs us who visited Gates constant ly at his hause, here, in the far past. It was the hand of the victor at Saratoga which, in ail probability, traced these letters on the pane, leaving the name unfinished. That name was ' General Charles Lee,"of Siouraoutii metnmory —the friend, then the enemy of Washington. His life was a strange one—as strange as the character of the man. The general read er knows, probably, Very little about the in dividual, beyond the fact that he was Major General in the Amerieon Revolution, and that he very nearly ruined the cause which he up held, by his retreat at Momouth. An old and curious volumn, which I have lately secured, communicates a mass of matter upon the sub ject of his antecedents, aud his strange ad ventures. It is entitled " Memories of the Life of the late Charles Lee, Esq., Lieut Col. of the Forty fourth Regiment, Colonel in the Portuguese service, Major General and Aid de Camp to the King of Portugal, mid second in command in the service of the United iStaies of America, during the Revolution London, 171)2." The volume is entertain.ng iu a hign degree, aud eoutains a complete pic ture of the man. The main points are worthy of embodiment in a sketch. Born of parents who ranked with the gentry of England—for his father was John Lee, Esq , of Deruhail, iu the county of Chester, his mother a daughter of Sir Henry Banbury, Bart. —young Lee en tered life under the most favorable auspices, somewhere about the year 1730. From his earliest years military tactics were hi* favorite study, and the least discerning could see that the boy was soouer or later, to adopt the career of arms. At an early age we accord ingly find him commanding a company of Gren adiers of the Forty-fourth Regiment, at the battle of Ticonderoga, where he was shot through the body in a desperate charge On his death bed he remembered tiiat charge, and murmured, deliriously," Stand by ine, my brave Grenadiers !" We next hear of him, after the reduction of Montreal, as returning to Eng land, and attacking the ministry in u pamphlet, wirieh espoused the American side so warmly that it entailed the praise and thanks ot' I)r. Franklin. Then we hear of him in Portugal, under General Burgoyne, with the rank of Colonel—defeating the enemy at Villa Velha, by a reckless assault, accompanied with great slaughter. This service secured for him splen did military distinction, aud the public thanks of his Portuguese Majesty. Again returning to England, he seemed on the high road to fame and fortune. Recommended warmly to the attention of the ministry, and backed doubtless by family influence, he would have risen rapidly, says his biographer, but tor his old weaknes in favor of America. The Indian or Pondiacks war broke out, and his scathing pen again assaulting the ministry,he was ruin ed. Despairing of advancement in the Eng lish service, lie then looked around liiin lor some other field in which his military talents might secure reward. Poland was selected, and thither he accordingly went. His military reputation had preceeded him. lie soon se cured the high respect and warn friendship of Stanislaus, who entrusted hioi with responsible employments and important undertakings. Fighting, diplomatizing, hurrying from place to place—now towards Turkey, then into Rus sia—thus passed some years. Then, driven by his restless spirit, we find him scouring Europe. The years 1771, '72 and 7b were spent in this manner, and his adventurts were manifold. In Italy he fought more than one duel From every capital which lie paused in, issued bitter attacks on the English ministry ; so bitter and terrible that they raised the sus picion of the identity of Lee with Junius In 1773 lie returned to England, and in the month of August of the same year embarked for New York, which lie reached on the 10th of November. He had long forseen the break ing out of the American Revolution. As tar buck as May, 1707, he had written to a triend from Warsaw : " 1 have an unspeakable j curiosity of seeing this campaign. I wish, by practice, to make myself a soldier, for purpose hottest, but which I shall not mention.'' There is little reason to doubt that lie had conceived 1 the bold and characteristic idea of offering his military experience to the North Amer ican rebels, with whose temper he was perfect ly familiar, Indeed, tnere are but two hy potheses to explain Lee's career up to the time when lie embarked for America. He was either the bravest and most disinterested IV t nd of liberty, or lie promised himself a rich re ward for his adhesion to the American cause. The leadership of three millions of men against the Empire which he had grown to hate bit terly, was a glittering bait for a simple colonel j and soldier of fortune. An examination of all : the circumstances leads the present writer to believe that Lee's daring political philosophy, moulded upon that of the French school, united I to his restless ambition, early pointed out thi- i dazzling future. His reception did not disip < point him. The American leader clearly fore- j saw the impending conflict, and hailed tin- i presence of a man whose military genius had been widely bruited throughout Europe and ' America. A thoroughly trained soldier wa uii iuvaluble accession to a cause which needed above ail the aid of men skilled in martial tic- ' tics, and Lee immediately found himself in rapport with the first men of the continent He visited Philadelphia, Mary laud, Virginia, Mount Vernon, pushing onward with his con vcrsation, aud his ever active pen, the minds of all towards the contest. At Mount Ver non he met with Horatio Gates, another mil itary adventurer of high rank and reputation Suave, politic, cautious, diplomatic and plans ible in his manners, Gates presented a strong contrast to the bitter and cynical partisan who, with his dogs trooping after him, to the great disgust of Mrs. Washington, strode through the apartments of his host, breaking jests and sarcasms upon all which came in his v.ay. The two men and their future military superior consulted long and profoundly upon the aspect of affairs. Lee and Gates had been old com rads, and they were doubtless impelled by the same ambition—that of leading the revolt of the Colonies against the Crow n. The thoughts and motives of the third of the trio—the great patriot w ho had no ambition to gratify, no aim to accomplish, who looked to the good of his land alone, and never for a moment to his per sonal aggrandizement—the sentiment in the heart of Washington may well be understood. He no doubt read the minds of his guests, and his serene wisdom accepted the assistance which they promised to render. Rapidly passing to Boston, Lee, we are' told, now "blazed forth a Whig of the first 1 magnitude.' 11l May, 1775, we find hiiu in ! Philadelphia, becoming " daily a greater en- \ thusiast in the cause of liberty." The explan ation may possibly be found in the presence ; there of the national delegates. The general Congress had assembled, and one of the first acts which they would proceed to would be the eleetiou of a Commander-in-Chief. Lee transmitted to Lord Harrington, retary of War, his resignation of lii.s colonelcy in the British army, and was regularly a candidate for the great post to be filled by Congress. As all know, it was bestowed upon Wishing ton, and Lee, to bis great disappointment, was compelled to content hiinselt with the rank of a Major General, lie accepted, however, and set out with Washington on tiie gist of June lor Boston, the news of the UatiJe of Bunder llill reached them upon their route. Thus commenced the official connection of the soldier of fortuue with the American Rev olut'on. lie had forseen that eveut, and played uith extraordinary skill aud boldness ior the great stake, the post of Commander-in- Chief. It had escaped him ; but he bad gone too far to recede, and he took the place as signed Lim with outward cheerfulness, but doubtless with internal auger. If thjs repre sentation of his designs and motives be unjust, the present writer can only regret it —lie has written from a conviction of the truth of the sketch, which presents a fair compromise be tween the conflicting views of Lee's character, and is perhaps the fair hypothesis. It is not the design of this paper to follow General Lee iu his public career, during the Revolution All the histories contain an ac count of his services, and of that lait greet PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. (I'M EAR A GOODRICH. drama of Monmouth. The volume before me contains an elaborate defence, by himself, of his conduct on that occasion, and the account is drawn up with such skill and plausibility that it is difficult to resist the conviction of • deep injustice on the part of his opponents. ; But the weight of argument on the other side is, unfortunately for the general, quite irresis ' tible. Washington was not an unjust man ; and Washington declared that Lee had dis tinctly disobeyed his orders, and nearly caused I on irreparable disaster to the American cause. | Congress was not disposed to commit a de i | liberate wrong, mid one which would deprive tiie Revolution of a great military leader, who had done good service, and was capable of more. But Congiess ratified the action of the Court-Martial which suspended his com | mission and banished him from the contest. It | is impossible to believe that this deliberate ac j tion ou the part of the General, his officers, i and the representatives of the colony, was the i cruel wrong which Lee declared it to he —and I history has given her decision against hirn. j The charge of treachery lias been elaborately urged by later writers ; but whether the act ! of Lee was treason or a mere blunder, it is not necessary here to examine. He retired iu high dudgeon to his estate in Berkeley County, Virginia. The property ! had been bought some years before, at the suggestion of General Gates —aud one of the singular incidents connected with the lives o these two men, is the fact that both were dis graced and come to live within a few miles of each other. Lee occupied a small stone house I near the presei t village of Leetown, command ing a fine landscape terminating in azure moun tains. Many stories are to!d of his eccentrict ' tics, which have been often repeated. The house was divided by imaginary hues into a kitchen, a setting-room, a chamber, etc., and in this : | cheerless abode the soldier lived, surrounded 1 bv his books, his dogs, and his servants, among whom was an Italian named UuLeppi Ming- j 1 hini, whose defendants still reside in the neigh | borliood. The house of Gates, as I have said ' —called "Traveller's Rest —was only a lew ! miles distant, and thither Lee often went, no ! doubt to compere bitter notes upon the re i spective incidents of their careers. Gates had > written to him long before, inviting him to visit Traveller's R st, " where a good bed is provided for you, two or three slaves to supply all your wants and whimsies, and space enough | about us for you to exercise away all your : sph en and gloomy moods, whensovevcr tliey ' distress you " Mrs. Gates joined iu the re i quest, but whether liiut lady and the cynical ! soldier agreed very well is doubtful. Local ] tradition declares that she was " too fond of an extra glass of wine would quarrel with | her husband ; and that on an occasion of this I description, when she appealed to Lee for his i opinion of herself, he replied, " Madam, you ! ore n tragedy in private life, and a farce to alt '■ the icorid !" A more bitter piece of wit could j scarcely be found in Junius. Another tx j ' hibition of Lee's malevolent sarcasm may be found in a correspondence with a gentleman of South Carolina, who had supported hi> dri missal from the army. " Until very Lit ly | lie writes, " I was tauzht to consider you only : as a fantastic, pompous, dramatis persona, a j mere. Malvlin. never to be spoken of or thought j ; of but for the sake of laughter ; at d when the ; humor for laughter subsided, never to be j spoken of or thought ot more. But I find that I am mistaken ; I fin-l that jou are a- i j malignant a scoundrel, as yon are universally \ allowed to be a ridiculous and disgusting cox comb." Weary of the sameness and tedium j . of his life iu tiie country, he buried hiiusclf with his celebrated " Queries, Political and j i Military," which contained a bitter attact up- > lon Washington. They were published in Bal i tiniore, but the indignation which they oc- , casioned soon subsided into contempt. The | hero was above the shaft of li s foe, and Lee ! saw himself consigned forever to what was 1 worse than hatred —indifference. Finally lie grew tired of his monotonous life—of Ids dogs, ! I • I whom, according to tradition, lie had hlasphe- 1 mon>ly nuined after the Holy Trinity and t!;c j ; twelve Apostles—of his books, Ids hunting, j and the motionless mountain rampart _ whirh j ! greeted him daily as he went to his front door. I He repaired to Philadelphia, and taking lodg ings at an inn in Market street, which bore j the sign of the "Convestigoe Waggon," was tin re seized with chills, which terminated in a violent fever. He expired on the 2d of Oe ! tober, 1782, exclaiming as has been said, in his dying moments, "island by me, my brave ' grenadiers!" Thus died a remarkable man, whose name will always be remembeted for its connection : with the great Revolution. His character | was composed of fierce and impetuous ele- 1 ! aiente ; and tiie pages of the volume from j i which many of these details are taken, present i a vivid picture of the individual. The first j point J sha.il notice is the evidence here pre ; seiited that Lee was no tnere vulgar adven- ' i turer, a military gladiator or free lance sprung j from the dregs of society, and without social j | rank or family. He was distinctly one of the j I English gentry, and probably connected with more than one of the nobility. This might ' lie deduced from the tone of his various 1 writings, public and private, which are those of a man conscious of social position. He j writes to a lady from Warruw : "To speak proudly, 1 do not see why the declaration of j my pas-ion should so heinously off. nd you. I 1 am born of a reputable family, my character j I hope is a fair one ; and as my fortune is j sufficiently ample to make an honest man in- i dependent, and an honest woman content, I cannot see the mighty crime in wishing to unite j your fortune with mine." The Earl of Pern broke signs himself " your most affectionate friend and humble servant." Edmund Burke writes, "It was extremely kind iu'yott to re member your friends in our dull, worn-out hemisphere," and the leading men of America uniformly address him as an equal and com panion. Thus much may not be unnecessary to remove nn impression upon some minds thut Lee was & mere homeless adventurer. It may be added that his biographer shows bis posses sion of tc crrp'e fortune wbeo he embarked " REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER." !in the American cause. To that cause lie un doubtedly contributed important services. He | was for many years the constant and violent opponent of the oppressive acts of the Eng !i.!i ministry. He took first at the Stamp Act, and wrote to the King of Poland : " If the humors which this accursed attempt has raised ! are suffered to subside, the inherent affection ! which the colonies have for their mother coun try, and clashing of interests one amongst another, will throw everything back into the old channel, which indeed is the case alrendy; I —but if another attack of the same nature should lie made upon them by a wicked, blun- 1 (ieriug Minister, I will venture to prophecy that this country will be shaken <o its founda tion, in its wealth, credit, r.uvul force, and in- ' tenia! population."' " His thoughts, indeed, seem to have turned constantly to the West ern continent ; he writes to his friend Coleman, j i in ITGT, " How does the hallowed Juliet ? It , I is inconceivable how deepiy I am interested 1 i for the welfare and success of that girl. If: i she does not succeed, let her many me and set- j | tie in America." And again in a letter to j Lord Tliuuet, in the same year, from Warsaw, , he says that the Poles " cun have no idea of I our carrying our abominations so far as to dis j franchise three millions of people of ull the ; rights of men, for the gratification of the re-1 I veuge of a bluudeiing, knavi-h Secretary, and ; a scoundrel Attorney General, a Hillsborough. ' j and a Laniard." These and other passages ' indicate u strong sympathy with the American ' j colonies, and an intention to east his lot with | tiiem iu the contest wnich his acute mind clear- j l lv foresaw was approaching. Ten years after : wards he was evidently thinking of this long j devotion when he wrote " Great God ! is it | come to this ? I atu not, it seems, an Ameri- | I can-; but am I not (if I may so express my self) Amcricanior ipsis A mcricanis ?" The probable motives of Lee—tlic-ir mingled personal und political character—have been ! referred to I >hul l terminate my sketch by a j few of those private memorials which strongly j ' exhibit the individuality of the man. His will lis an odd document. To John Mercer, K-q , j of Marlborough, in Virginia, lie gives "the, choice of two brood marcs, of nil my swords j and pistols, and ten guineas to buy a ring : I would give bin) more, but as lie ha< a good es tate at.d a better genius, he has sufficient if he knows 110 vto make a good u-e of them." "To my excellent friend, William Stejitoe of Vir ginia, 1 would leave a great deal, but as be is now so rich, it would be no less than robbing ; my other friends who are poor." "I had ul ! most forgot my dear fi iend- (and I ought to | be ashamed of it), Mrs. Shippen," etc. He leaves them ten guineas each to buy rings.— • " 1 desire most earnestly tk it I may not be bu/ied it* any * ua/l or chut chyard, or within a mile of uny d'nsbylet ta/i or Anabaptist meeting house ; for since, / hive resided in this country l have kept so much bad company when living, that I do not choose to continue it when dead." iSueli was the parting scoff oi Charles Let, to the world in which lie hud made so great a figure, and lushed with his Litter tongue, O' Ins venomous pen, at his will. The heated, agitated, reckless existence elided with a jest, , at the moment when the grave opened its cold i jaws to receive luiu. It was a splendid, brii j hunt woiul career which the soldier of fortune \ ran— the last scene was like that of a tragedy. An obscure tavern was to see the fiery spark 1 extinguished :—as a remote cabin, far from j I civilization, and buried in the wilderness of the Western World, had been the place of sullen retreat to the lonely friend oi the King of I'oland. Thither lie had gone, like a wouud |ed wild lieast to his den growling, and show ing his teeth, but powerless longer to oppose j Ins enemies. ISo great was the contrast be ' tweeu this man's morning and his setting sun. I lie had been the object of adtnir.ng eyes at j I all tiie courts of Europe : his -word hud been j | drawn on the frozen steppes of Russia, and had I Hashed beneath the sun of Spain ; on two con- I | liiieuts he bad led his men in desperate as- j : saults, or triumphant charges—and the rumor , ' of these exploits had made his name another , . word for a great leader of buttle. He shone j 1 no less in affairs of Stat*-. His trenchant pen had made the great lead- i I ers of the English Government wince and I writhe. Like Junius, with whom he was cou ! founded mort than once, it is penetrating sar ! casuis pierced the thickest armor, and drew blood from the strongest combatants. 11 is conversation, like his writings, ranged bitterly •. * j over the entire surface of political affairs, ami the jest or the denunciation which his scornful j lips uttered was caught up and repeated, and j had the effect of a blow from a deadly weapon. I Hobbling madly over Europe, almost crazy I from the gout, he made the objects of his uni- j j mosity shake with rage as they read his fierce 1 invective ; and thus triply armed, with tongue pen and sword, he set the haughtiest at dtfi 1 ence, ane advanced to the assault with the trained coolness of the fighting hack, the dis ! daiiitui gallantry of the chevalier. Thus, this man's character and career, were famous when ;Le came to America. He played here for a ; splendid prize—and lost it. lie lost allel-eat ■ Monmouth. From that fated field he retired i without hope, r future. He had cut off all : prospects of advancement in England —he had ruined hiuiselt in America. Nothing was left lint depair. He went to his hut beyond the | Glue llidge, and with dogs for companions, : railed at fortune, and human lite—at earth and i heaven. Like a mastiff, grown old, and with : broken teeth, he could only snarl in his corner —and the woftil, terrible thing above all, was the fact that the world did not care for his ! snarling. The proud bitter soul of the disup ; pointed man could endured anything but cou • tempt nous indifference. Nobody would even take the trouble to hate him, though lie hated tliein never so bitterly. That life seems to have worn liirn ont.more than fighting, hardship or exposure, had ever done. He rust* d away like a 6word thrown away in battle, and nevtr found a* y nirre.:— Ilis condition was insupportable. His visit to Philadelphia was to look upon something be s.des the monotonous forest aud mountain — uud there his fate spproachefl. He was seiz ed with *' a shivering," and htydstfa to dia liis end, like that of Napoleon, was in the midst of a dream of war. He passed away, not stretched on a tavern bed, but leading his grenadiers in a desperate ussult on the enemy. Such was the fiery ending of the fiery life of one of the most conspicuous figures of the last century. J. E. C. The Victcm Tubular Bridge. Oar own continent uow nosesses, in comple tion one of the wonders of the world in con structive nrt. The tubular iron bridge over the Menai Straits, was designed aud erected : by the lute Stevenson, and led to tiie construc tion of the Victoria, bridge, at Montreal,which ' is now after several 'years of assiduous labor, I completed,and will be thrown open for continu j ous use on the 19th inst. The firstlocomotive passed over it on the 14th of Nov., conveying i about fifty persons, among whom were two ' Indies. The company consisted otherwise of 1 officers, directors,'abd engineers, with a few ( distinguished gentlemen. With cheers, three - | times three, for the thrice royal lady whose 1 name the wonderful structure bears, the train touched the southern shore of the St. Law- 1 ' fence. After other rejoicings, " God save the Queen," was sung in English and French ; the lion. Mr. Cartier, prime minister ot' Canada, I who was present, leading the national hymn with much spirit. The Victoria bridge, as is generally known, is composed of plates of iron, ' riveted together in the form of tubes, 22 feet j high by 10 feet broad. There are 24 of tlmse ! tubes, each 242 feet long, except the central j 1 one, which is 339 feet making iu nil 0133 feet! !or almost a mile and an eighth. These tubes 1 ! rest upon piers, which are 90 feet lon_- at the ' ; base, and 33 feet at the top, the up-stream 1 side being wedge shape to divide the ico in | the winter. The abutments at either end arc j ■ 250 feet long, and with the piers they consti- I title the most extraordinary work of masonry : |of modern times. Tiie tubes are sixty feet ! ! above summer water-level, and the river steamers pass under the central one The en tire weight of the iron is 800U tons. The con traction in length of each tube by the extreme ; cold of a Canadian winter is 3 1-2 inches, the j ends of the tubes being placed upon rollers to allow freedom for this variation. There i* no ! wrod used except string pieces for tlie rails,and : a narrow side walk lor tiie pusverc of em ployees. Every plate was prepared and even | punched, hei'ote being brought to the ground ; ' i and .-o great was the scientific nicety of the ! 1 calculations, that it was found, on tak ug away i 1 tiie scaffolding, upon which the tubeswvie laid that they settled precisely a> much as was est - mated, which if we mistake not was about 5 ' 1-2 inches in the centre. The cost of the work is ihi.oOO.uOO, and it belongs to Grand Trunk Rail Road, which presents now one the | largest continuous lines iu tiie wurid, being . about 1000 milts. ° EXCESSIVE CI.EAXI.I.\ESS —Even cleanliness cnii be exaggerated, as in the case of the Phf.risees, and tiie late Duke of Qutensdtriy, who would wash in nothing but mhk. Our j own Queen uses distilled water only for her | toilet ; but this not a case in point, since it is | for the sake of health, I believe, with !>,r A sud case,however, was that of the lovely ■ Princess Alexandrian of Bavar .a wlud ied mad from over-cleanliness. It began by extreme i scurupiilousness. At dinner she would minute ly examine her plate and if she saw the slight est speck on it, would send for another hue ' would then turn the napkin round and round to examine every corner, und often rise from the table because she thought .-ho was not 1 served properly in this respect. At last it be j came a monomania, till on plates napkins, i b-hes, tablecloth, and everything else she be ' lieved she saw nothing but dirt. It weighed j ion her mind, poor thing,she could not be clean i enough, and it drove her to insanity.— English , | Handbook of Etizuettc. One of the saddest mistakes, says T t i comb, which good people have made is m sup . j posing the world to be a mistake. To these i people—and their number is not small—the i earth i> but a theatre of pain and -irkiu-<, j j and sorrow and death. Joy is illusive, plea i sure a cheat, laughter a mockery, and Lappi J ne.-s a tiling impossible, and not even to he looked for on this side the grave. The per | formancc of nil duty is the " taking up of what i they call a "cross." They are actually afraid I i to !>e happy, under an over-shadov. ing impies j sion that they have no right to be happy in this life. They believe that there i* somcthii g J bud in the world they inhabit and all the joy j that proceeds from it. Thty have an idea tiiat the moral evil which afflicts the human race I has struck in. All the sufferings cf the brute i creation—their throes cf lc;Dor, and sickness of body, and pains of death—are so many voices : proclaiming the fatal failure of Adam, llu man nature itself is an awful thing, tied is a creat law giver, an inexorable avenger, an aw ful judge, a being to be feared more than loved. : Life is a trial—severe, unrelenting, perpetual. All thnt seems good and graceful and glorious in the world is a hollow sham, for the decep tion of the unwary and the rain of the unwise, j BLACK WORK WELL RAID. A clergyman meeting a chimney sweeper, asked whence he came ? " I have been sweeping your rcvereuce's chimneys." " How many were there ?'* " Twenty, Sir." " Well, aud how much do you get a chim ney ?" " Only a shilling apiece, Sir." " Why, I think a pound is prety well for your morning's work." " Yes, Sir, we black eczts get oar money easy enough. *' " I say, friend, your borsa ib a litt'a contrary is he not V " No, sir-ee." " Wlmt makes hitn stop, himnclf ?" "Ob, tie's *fru!d somebody'!! ssy 'wfcoa,": pd bo sbacr hesr it " VOL. XX. —XO.-29. Winter Scenes, The following from the Chicago Journal i* worthy of being placed Üb.de the winter sketches of Jacob Abbot and N. P. Willis: " 1 hut>old-red sleigh witu its long box that never was full, for down in tito straw, wrap ped in the robes, or on one another of tho four scats it contained, there was always room for one more. What a grouping of bright young faces there used to be in it ! Faces in hoods, in caps and in blankets ; hearts that have loved smce ; hearts that have broken ; hearts that have mouldered. And away vre went over the hill, and through the vale, un der the moonlight, and under the cloud ; whea the stars were looking down ; when the sun kindled the world into a great white jewel, but those days hare gone forever away, aiid the sweet okl necklace of bells, big in the middle of the string, and growing suiail by degree:-, I has lost its power over the pulses. I In that old sleigh brides have gone aw: y j befoie now—those that were married to man j hood, those that were "married unto death." ; Great ships have gone over tiie waters with i less of hope and happiness, then that rudu i craft has borne over the oiliows of winter ; swan-like shapes now glance along the arrowy way, but give us, for its sweet meuig/fos of yesterday, the old red sleigh. Then, the days when v.e wore "coasters and down the big hill, by the uiaple wood, through the little pitches, far into the valley | we came with merry shout each, the solitary | Paliuurus of his own small craft. How like j a Hock of swallows we were, dashing down i the declivity, in among a group o! sleds, side | by side with a rival, shooting "by like an ar row, steering in gallantly ahead, like a jockey, and on our way up with n sled in tow, ere tin} j party had reached tiie valley below. And then it was, when the wind had swept ! away the snow from the pond and stream, and j the ice was gla r, that we put on the " rock ers," and dai ted hither and thither, and cut sixes and eights, and curves without number, ! and drew- the girls we loved, and whirled them ! like leaves over the highway of crystal. And the schools where wo spelt each other down, and the schools where we sang Wind ham ami .Yiear, aud the schools where we cv | pliered and wrote, and '* went up gone, all ' cone, teacher and taught, like the melting snows under tiie rainbows of April. And when, sometimes after the great snow, ! the winds came out of the north for a frolic, . what wreathing and carvings of cold alabas ter there were. What coriuthian adornings surmounted the fence posts; what mouldings were fashioned fe-ide the way ; what fairy i like caves in the drifts : what ifowers of rare ! fin : s!i and pendants 01, a 1 on the trees. Have you quite forgotten the footprints wa used to find in tlio dump snow ; as delicate, ] some of tliein, as a love letter; the mysteri i ous paths down to the brook or by tlie old 1 hollow tree, that we used to wonder over and 1 set " figure fours " by. if perchance we might I catch te makers thereof? Have you quite forgotten how sorry we were for the snow birds i that fluttered among the flakes, and seemed tossing and lost in the storm And therein tiie midst of that winter Christ* : mas was set, that made the Thanksgiving last : all through tin night of the year, and what : w-onder the stars and fires burned more bright ly therefor ! Chri tmns with its gifts and its i che r ; its carol and charin ; its evergreen , branch and its bright morning dreams. Christ inas, when there vvrepriuts upon the chimney tojo, if wo were only there to see them, where Santa Clans set his foot as the clock struck j twelve Christmas, when stockings were sus ; pended l y hearth and by pillow all over tiie | bind ; stockings silken ami white ; stockings i homely and biue, and even '.lie little red sock ■ with a hole in the toe. Blessed forever bo I Bethleht ill's star 1" The " Vatican " at Rome, the palace j of the Pope, is a pile of buildings covering a j space 1 200 feet in length and 1,600 in breadth, !on one of the seven hills of Rome. The site ' was once the garden of the Emperor Nero.—- Ecrrly in the sixth century the Ri.-hop of Rc;p.g or '-led there an bumble dwelling, and this lias i lu-en added to from time to time by the Po; is, I until it is now cue of the most spacious aud magnificent palaces, stocked with paintings i statues, books, nnd antiquities of the rarest j kind. YFRY COOT.— A gentleman, on a visit to Washington, one day verv coolly opened the door o' the Senate Chamber, was about to pass in, when the doorkeeper asked, "Aro ! yon a piivileged member !" " What do yo-.i i inenn by th it ?" a-k ■ i the Granger. The re ply was "A governor an ex-member of Congress 'or a foreign minister.*' The stranger replit j that lie v. a- a minister. ' From what conn or country ?" asked 'he official. Very pr.ive jly pointing up, the stranger replied, " From Heavn, sir." To this the doorkeeper wag i gidilv rcp'i J, " This government at present i holds no intercourse with that foreign power " "Oh, Jacob,*' said a master to his np | pr-niiiv, " it E wonderful to see what a quan i tit v yon can eat." " Yes, fir,"' said the boy, '• I've been practicing ever since I was a 1 child.'* A preacher lately said, in his sermon, . " let worn'n M member, while putting on their i profuse and expensive attire, how narrow am j the gates Ct Paradise." — Mrs. Partington desires to know why the ! captain of any vesel don't keeps memorandum ; of the weigh' of his anchor, instead of "weigh- I i.ig anchor " every time he loaves a port * Kr.ir THIS IN WIND. —Correction does muck but el coumgement does more ; i aeon rage men 5 after censure is as the 6uu after u bhower. tf.V A year of pleasure p. es like a fio.vt i".g b ceze ; but a jioaiant of mißforfuao 6e2i# I hi. age of p-.lr.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers