(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.