FOL. XXV.

Poetry.

M. 8. D.

Within the cold and darksome tomb
Our little daughter lies,

And all alike are light and gloom
To her lid-curtain'd eyes.

She cannot see the morning sun
Or her dear mother's face;
Her day is dim, and she has run

Her brief and happy race.

No sound can reach her where she sleeps
As hush'd as Winter snows;
Unbroken silence softly keeps

And folds her in repose.

No sorrow can her life restore,
And yet we fondly say—

She is not dead, but gone before

On her celestial way.

She is not dead: but in sweet night

Our darling Mary lies,

Till Christ shall come and pour the light

On those lid-curtain'd eyes.

Then will she leave her solitude

Beneath Earth's darksome sod

Adorning, like a rose renewed,

The garden of our God.

NEW YORK, Jan. 4, 1860.

Faith in the Union.

BY HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.

Sail on, O Union, strong and great!

Humanity with all its fears,

With all the hope of future years,
Is hanging breathless on thy fate!
We know what Master laid thy keel,
What workmen wrought thy ribs of steel,
Who made each mast, and sail and rope,
What anvils rang, what hammers beat,
In what a forge and what a heat

Were shaped the anchors of thy hope!
Fear not each sudden sound and shock,
Tis of the wave and not the rock.

Tis but the flapping of the sail
And not a rent made by the gale!
In spite of rock and tempest's roar,

In spite of false lights on the shore,

Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea!

Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee,

P. B.

Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our fears,

Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,
Are all with thee,-are all with thee!

"I Always Covered Mother.”

The following incident has been made the theme of the beautiful song, which is subjoined, from the pen of the poet WEBB:"A young lady had taken the sole care of her mother during a long and painful illness. After her mother's death, she performed the last duties previous to interment with mechanical precision, and without shedding a tear. Her first words were spoken at the grave, when the sexton had raised his spade to throw earth upon the coffin. "Nay," cried KATIE, arresting his arm and showering a lapful of flowers into the grave, "I always covered mother up, and she used to say I did it so gently." There were few on the ground but wept.

I have always covered mother
Since the pain came to her brow,
And she said I did it gently-
None else shall do it now.

I have always smoothed her pillow,
And drawn the curtain fold;
And I'll not forget thee now, mother,
When thy limbs are all so cold.

'Neath the willows, deep and narrow,
They have made thy bed I know,
But they shall not soil thy robes, mother,
With the damp earth mould below.

See, I've plucked some wild flowers, mother,
And I'll strew them on thy breast;

But the buds shall fall so gently
That they may not break thy rest.

I'd bring the brighter flowers, mother,
But the roses fled with June,
And the daisies and anemones
Went with the sweet May moon.

But the buds fell from the stem, mother,
To be caught by hands on high-
Now they blossom in God's garden-
Pale lilies of the sky.

And 'tis thus with souls like thine, mother,
For they pass from life to love;
And they leave this dark earth-garden
For the golden walks above.

Oh, the sweet star-lilies blossom
Where no hand may pluck them down,
Or I'd weave, to grace thy brow, mother,
A purer, fairer crown.

But the angel's wings are free, mother,
And you can wander there,
Where the flowers are blooming ever
With a fragrance like to prayer.
Now the counterpane is spread, mother,
You'll wake to morning light-
God's hand has drawn the curtain,
So, mother, sweet, good night!

THE real truth about the ways of this world has never been more felicitously told than in the language of Shakspeare, where Ulysses urges Achilles to take the field once more :

"Perseverance, dear my lord,
Keeps honour bright. To have done, is to hang
Quite out of fashion, like a trusty mail,
In monumental mockery. Take the instant way;
For honour travels in a strait so narrow,
Where one but goes abreast; keep then the path,
For emulation hath a thousand sons
That one by one pursue. If you give way,
Or hedge aside from the direct forthright,
Like to an entered tide they all rush by
And leave you hindmost;-

Or like a gallant horse, fallen in first rank,
Lie there for pavement to the abject rear,

O'er run and trampled on. Then, what they do in present,

Though less than yours in past, must o'ertop yours;
For time is like a fashionable host,

That slightly shakes his parting guest by the hand,

NO. 2.

And with his arms outstretched, as he would fly, Grasps in the comer. Oh, let not virtue seek Remuneration for the thing it was!

For beauty, wit,

High birth, vigor of bone, desert in service,
Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all

To envious and calumniating time.

One touch of nature makes the whole world kin That all, with one consent, praise new-born gauds, Though they are made and moulded of things past, And give to dust, that is a little gilt,

More laud than gilt o'er-dusted.

The present eye praises the present object.
Then marvel not, thou great and complete man,

That all the Greeks begin to worship Ajax,

Since things in motion sooner catch the eye

Than what not stirs. The cry went once on thee,
And still it might; and yet it may again
If thou wouldst not entomb thyself alive
And case thy reputation in thy tent."

Original.

THE fact that Washington Irving never married has drawn out a good deal of comment, one way or the other, upon the course of those men, who for reasons best known to themselves never take a mate. Every heart knows its own sorrows; and the amount of impertinent badinage got off by coarse people of both sexes, against old bachelors, only the sorelytried victims can appreciate. We have seen nothing more to our mind, than the following from the Boston Transcript. After showing, that Irving's celibacy was one of the most beautiful traits of his life, although flippantly condemned by men and women who neither know the circumstances, nor had refinement of soul sufficient to understand and appreciate his heroic self-sacrifice, in what seemed to them sordid selfishness, concentrating on the petted idol of self the large affections that should have been spread over wife, children and grand-children, it illustrates his position by the following remarks:

"There is perhaps one defect," says the Portland Transcript, "in this otherwise well-filled life. Mr. Irving never married." This gratuitous criticism by one who is evidently ignorant of the circumstances, illustrates a common impertinence. It seems to be thought not only justifiable but praiseworthy to condemn single-life, sneer at its votaries or victims, and take it for granted that they are recreant to social claims and flagrant examples of egotism and selfishness; whereas the motive and the cause of this unpopular exception to the average economy of American life, may be of the highest and most disinterested character.

How often have we heard from those who would repel the charge of ill-breeding or inhumanity with scorn, sneers at the lonely life of men who, to our knowledge, have voluntarily denied themselves the comforts of domestic life, that they might minister to the wants of indigent kindred, or maintain fidelity to what they esteem "dearer than self!" We once overheard three so-called gentlemen berate such a celibate as this, who replied with the utmost patience and good nature to their badinage, and was too magnanimous to refer to the notorious fact that each of these complacent husbands had married an ordinary woman for her money! It is time that celibacy was treated as a misfortune until proved to be a fault. When a man shows unmistakably a kindly, affectionate heart and generous sympathies, the inference is that he has remained single for a reason that does him honor and should secure him consideration; and, be it remembered, that the most noble characters are the most fastidious in self-respect, and the world is not likely to know their private history. The world knew not why Charles Lamb never married, until his death.

At the present time, so extravagant are the habits of women, so precarious the resources of men,-80 far from frugal the life of the household,—that those

who hesitate in the matrimonial path, especially such as have relations dependent on them, are the conscientious and self-devoted; and whoever has shared the family troubles incident to the contrary course, when rashly adopted, will never thoughtlessly reproach a celibate. We have been led to this strain of remark by the observation quoted, because it is an example of the manner in which this subject is habitually discussed.

THE story of the efforts made by Christians in the middle ages to rescue the sepulchre of Christ at Jerusalem from the hands of the infidel Mohammedans, is familiarly known; few, however, are aware that the boys and girls of those days tried their hands at the same difficult job. What was called "The Boy Crusade" came off in 1212, and is one of the most curious things that history records. The men had been stimulated, for reasons political as well as ecclesiastical, to their "Crusade"; and, as was not very strange, the young folks caught the contagion from their elders. A French shepard-boy named "Holy Stephen," gave the first impulse to the juveniles, and rallied about him, in a short time, an excited mob of 30,000 persons. The boys were bound to go and no persuasion, tears, or commands, could deter the young saints. They felt a loud, internal call, and were sure that the smiles of Heaven were on the enterprise, and that every boy who did not rally in such a cause must be a spiritless, milk-and-water dastard. Parents in the present day, who have ever had occasion to dissuade a youngster from any affair in which "all the rest of the boys are going," will understand how the boys felt and talked. A German historian says:

"No persuasion, nor even the despair and tears of the mothers, could keep back the boys. Were they hindered, they wept day and night, pined with sorrow and fell ill with trembling of the limbs, so that at last of necessity they were let go. Others made light of locks and bolts, found means to elude the most vigilant, to join the representatives of the shepard-boy, Stephen, and at last even to behold this holy crusade preacher. And there was no distinction of rank; the children of counts and barons ran away, as well as the sons of citizens and the poorest peasant boys; only the rich parents, when they could not keep their children back, sent guides to accompany them, who quietly may have rescued many. Many parents summoned their children to take the cross, others yielded to what they were unable to prevent, not venturing to oppose the eulogists of the little crusade preachers. Only a few intelligent men, among whom were even some of the clergy, shook their heads; but it was all in vain that they sought to restrain the multitude from their giddy infatuation, which must soon enough carry them to an abyss. No one of them ventured to utter his mind aloud, fearful of being charged with heresy, warned also by the disregard given to even the king's demand. The movement did not last long before there was assembled at Vendome an innumerable army of boys, armed and unarmed, many on horseback, the most on foot, and among them not a few girls in male clothing. Their number is estimated at more than thirty thousand."

The child pilgrims, little knowing what lay before them, began to move towards Marseilles, there to embark for the Holy Land; but even before they had travelled through France, they had been plucked, cheated and robbed by miscreants of both sexes, and were almost destitute when they reached Marseilles. Numbers of women and girls accompanied the boydventurers, and the moral corruption became houndess and uncontrollable. The merchants of Mareilles, from interested motives, received the young rusaders with great affection, attended their religous exercises with mock devoutness, and promised o take them to Palestine for God's blessing only. The rascals were scheming to get the boys into their ossession and then sell them for slaves, to those ery infidels, the boys expected to exterminate. The istorian relates the denouement as follows: “The boy army was still so numerous as to fill

seven large ships, and thus the little crusaders set sail, enthusiastically courageous, and full of gratitude to their benefactors. But two days after their departure a storm arose, two ships struck on St. Peter's Island, and not a soul was saved. The bodies were collected and buried in a church erected by Gregory IX to their memory (Ecclesia novorum innocentium). The other five ships steered to Bougia and Alexandria, and the young crusaders were here all sold as slaves to the Saracens, and it is certain that none saw their native land again. The two betrayers afterwards met with their reward. The Emperor Frederick II had them hanged in Sicily.

THE Boston Transcript has seen a very curious relique of the past brought from Geneva, Switzerland, by Hon. Charles Sumner. It is an album kept by Camillus Cordoyn, a Neapolitan nobleman, at Geneva, in the first half of the seventeenth century.Geneva was then much visited by strangers, and as they passed through the city, this nobleman would get them to enter their names, with some sentence of prose or poetry, in his Album. The famous Lord Strafford, then Thomas Wentworth, enters his name with a Latin quotation in 1612. John Milton's name appears June 10th, 1639. There are several hundred of these autographs from persons of different nations. Among them are German princes, French noblemen, and English cavaliers and Roundheads.

Miscellaneous.

John Brown, The Scottish Martyr. Towards the close of the seventeenth century, when a form of worship was forced upon the Scottish people by the sword, which was alike repulsive to their taste and their conscientious judgment of the Gospel in its simplicity and purity, lived another "John Brown," a pious Edinburgh carrier, who thought it a duty to succor the persecuted ministers of the Gospel. One of these men had recently been succored under the roof of the poor carrier, and when he departed, made him acquainted with his hiding place. Just at that time, Claverhouse, afterwards the Earl of Dundee, was scouring the country, with troopers as cruel as himself, in search of the hiding places of the preachers, and knowing the reputation of Brown, went to his lonely dwelling, called the "Cottage on the Muir." Early in the morning the cottage of John Brown was surrounded by a troop of dragoons, with Claverhouse at their head. John, who had probably a presentiment of what might happen,urged his wife and daughter to stay within doors, insisting that as the soldiers were, in all likelihood, in search of some other person, he should soon be able to dismiss them. By this time, the tramping and neighing of horses, mingled with the hoarse laugh and vociferations of dragoons, brought John, half-dressed, to the door.

Claverhouse immediately accosted him by name; and in a manner intended for something betwixt fun and irony, proceeded to make inquiries respecting one, "Samuel Atkin”—a godly man, and a minister of the Word, and outrageously addicted to prayer!" John admitted at once that the person referred to was not unknown to him, asserting, however, that of his present residence, or place of hiding, he was not free to speak.

"No doubt, no doubt," rejoined Claverhouse, "you know nothing! How should you, all in innocence and ignorance as you are? But here is a little chip of the old block, which may probably recollect better and save us the trouble of blowing out her father's brains, just by way of making him remember more accurately. You, my little farthing rushlight," continued Red Bob, alighting from his horse and seizing the girl rudely and with prodigious force by the wrists -"you remember an old man with a long beard and a bald head, who was here a few days, baptizing your sister, and giving good advice to father and mother, and who is now within a few miles of this house, to which you can readily and instantly conduct us, you know?"

The girl looked first at her mother, who had now advanced into the doorway, then at her father, and

dropped her head, and continued to preserve a complete silence.

22

"And so," continued the questioner, "you are dumb; your tongue is a little obstinate or so, and you must not tell family secrets. But what think you of speaking with your fingers; or having a proper and pertinent answer just ready at your finger ends, as one may say? As the Lord lives and as my soul lives, but this will make a dainty nosegay,' [displaying a thumpkin or finger screw] "for my sweet little Covenanter; and then," [applying the instrument of torture, meanwhile, and adjusting it to the thumb] "you will have no manner of trouble in reeollecting yourself; and don't knit your brow so," [for the pain had become insufferable] "then we shall have you chatty and amusing, I warrant.

The mother, who could stand this no longer, rushed upon the brutal executioner, and with expostulations, threats, and the most impassioned entreaties, endeavored to relax the questioner's twist.

"Can you, mistress, recollect anything of this man we are in quest of ?" resumed Claverhouse, haughtily;" it may save us both some trouble, and your daughter a continuance and increase of her present suffering, if you will just have the politeness to make us acquainted with what you happen to know upon the subject."

"Woman!" exclaimed the husband, in a tone of indignant surprise, "hast thou so soon forgotten thy God? and shall the fear of anything that man can do induce thee to betray innocent blood?"

He said no more, but he had said enough, for from that instant the whole tone of his wife's feelings was changed, and her soul was wound up, as if by the hand of Omnipotence, into resolution and daring.

"Bravo!" exclaimed the arch persecutor, "bravo! old Canticles, thou word'st it well; and so you three pretty innocents have laid your holy heads together, and you have resolved to die, should it please God and us, with a secret in your breast, and a lie in your mouth, like the rest of your psalm singing, hypocritical, canting sect, rather than discover guid Mr. Atkin! pious Mr. Atkin! worthy Mr. Atkin! But we shall see what light this little telescope of mine will afford on the subject," pointing to a carbine or holster pistol which hung from the saddle of his horse. "This cold, frosty morning requires that one," continued Claverhouse, "should be employed, were it for no other purpose than just to gain heart by the exercise."

"And so, old Pragmatical, in order that you may not catch cold by so early an exposure to the keen air, we will take the liberty," [hereupon the whole troop gather round and presented muskets,] "for the benefit of society, and for the honor and safety of the king-never to speak of the glory of God and the good of souls-simply and unceremoniously, and in the neatest and most expeditious manner imaginable, to blow out your brains."

John Brown dropped down instantly, and as it were instinctively, upon his knees, while his wife stood by in seeming composure, and his daughter had happily become insensible to all external objects

whatever.

"What!" exclaimed Claverhouse, "and so you must pray, too, and we shall have a last speech and a dying testimony lifted up in the presence of peat stacks and clay walls, and snow wreaths; but as these are pretty staunch and confirmed loyalists I do not care though we entrust you with five minutes of devotional exercise, provided you steer clear of king, council, and Richard Cameron. So proceed, good John, but be short and pithy. My lambs are not accustomed to long prayers, nor will they soften under the whining of your devotions."

But in this last surmise Claverhouse was for once mistaken, for the prayer of this poor uneducated man ascended that morning in expressions at once so earnest, so devout, and so overpoweringly pathetic, that deep silence succeeded at last to oaths and ribaldry; and as the following concluding sentences were pronounced there were evident of better and relenting feelings :-"And now, guid Lord," continued this death-doomed and truly Christiau sufferer, "since thou hast nae mair use for thy servant in this world, and since it is thy good pleasure that I should serve thee better and love thee more elewhere, I leave this puir widow woman, with the helpless and fatherless children, upon thy hands. We have been happy in each other here, and now that we are to part for a while, we maun e'en look forward to more perfect and enduring happiness hereafter. And as for the puir blindfolded and infatuated creatures, the present

ministers of thy will, Lord, reclaim them from the error and evil of their course; ere it be too late; and may they who have sat in judgment and in oppression in this lonely place and on this blessed morning, and upon a pair, weak, and defenceless fellow creatare, find that mercy at last from thee which they have refused to thy unworthy but faithful servant.Now, Isabel," continued this defenceless martyr, "the time is come at last, of which I told you that day when first I proposed to unite hand and heart with yours; and are you willing, for the love of God and his rightful authority, to part with me thus?"

To whom the poor woman replied, with perfect composure"The Lord gave, and He taketh away." So saying, she approached her still kneeling and blindfolded husband, and clasped him around the neck, kissed and embraced him closely, and then, lifting up her person into an attitude of determined endurance, and eyeing from head to foot every soldier who stood with his carbine levelled, she retired slowly and firmly to the spot she had formerly occupied. "Come, come, let's have no more of this whining work," interrupted Claverhouse suddenly. "Soldiers! do your daty." But the work fell upon a circle of statues; and though they all stood with their muskets presented, there was not a finger which had power to draw the fatal trigger. There ensued an awful pause, through which a "God Almighty bless your tender hearts," was heard coming from the lips of the now agitated and almost distracted wife. But Claverhouse was not in the habit of giving his orders twice, or of expostulating with obedience, so extracting a pistol from the holster of his saddle, he primed and cocked it, and then walking firmly and slowly up through the circle, close to the ear of his victim,***

**

There was a momentary murmur of discontent and of disapprobation among the men as they looked upon the change which a single awful instant had effected; and even "Red Rob" had the hardihood to murmur with an oath loud enough to be heard, "This is too bad!"

The widow of John Brown gave one, and but one shriek of horror, as the fatal discharge was given; and then she began to unfold a napkin from her neck."What think ye, good woman, of your bonny man, now?" vociferated Claverhouse, returning at the same time the pistol with a plunge into the holster from which it had been extracted. "I had always good reasons," replied the woman, firmly and deliberately, "to think well o' him, and I think mair of him now than ever. But how will Graham of Claverhouse account to God and man for this morning's work?" continued she firmly. "To man," answered the ruffian, "I can be answerable; and as to God, I will take him in my own hands!"

He then rode off, and left her with the corpse. She spread the napkin leisurely upon the snow, gathered up the scattered fragments of her husband's head, covered his body with a plaid, and sitting down with her infant, wept bitterly.

The cottage of John Brown has long disappeared from the muir, but the little spot where the "House in the Muir" stood, is still green, and amidst surrounding heath; and in the very centre of that spot there lies a slab, now almost covered with grass, upon which, with a little clearing of the grass from the faded characters, the following rude but expressive lines may still be read:

"Clavers might murder Godly Brown,
But could not rob him of his crown.""

A GREAT TURKEY MANUFACTORY.-B. and S. Beatty of Aurora, Cayuga county, New York, we think must be the greatest providers of turkey meat of any single establishment in this country. Of one now hefore us, they say, "it is one of 2,000 of our turkeys, and a pretty fair sample. We fattened most of them on our own premises." We judge the sample will weigh nearly twenty pounds, but allow only fifteen pounds as the average weight, and it will show that these gentlemen have turned out of their great manufactory thirty thousand pounds of turkey meat, as their crop of the present winter. Of this, all we have got to say is this: These two brothers are enterprising business men, who have made large establishments for conducting their business upon common sense principles, and that business is to convert grain into a saleable product at a profit. This they have done for several years, and what they have done others may do. The country is wide, and the market large. Will some of the American farmers think whether it is not more profitable to make poultry than pigs ?-N. Y. Tribune.

Lawful Plunder.

There are various kinds of plunder which are considered lawful, not always according to the strict letter of the law, but according to the general moral sense of men. Thus, to steal umbrellas is never accounted morally wrong, unless you happen to know the owner. But the more usual kinds of lawful plunder are to cheat the public, to cheat a body of people, or to cheat unknown people.

The modes of plundering the public are innumerble, from the stealings of office holders to the evasion of taxes by every holder of property. Nobody's conscience is so sensitive as to be disturbed by the idea of having committed these kinds of plunder.

The next kind of lawful plunder consists in cheating groups of people; corporations, for example; dead men's estates; insolvent estates; the administration of which has been called waste reduced to a system; religious bodies; and all sort of institutions. It is thought creditable to evade paying one's fair over a railroad or at a hotel, or for a theater or lecture ticket; or to escape in any way the claims of the contribution box. There are many ingenious ways adopted, not without applause, to effect these desirable objects. Counterfeit quarters are always good." Buttons serve well for contribution boxes. An ancient preacher of this valley announced a collection somewhat as follows: "My Christian friends, a collection will now be taken up for the benefit of the heathen in the Sandwich Islands. And here I wish to warn those of you who put in buttons, against the too prevalent custom of flattening down the eyes; which, while it has no effect in deceiving the poor heathen into the use of these articles for coin, nevertheless renders them totally useless for buttons." A more ingenious and therefore better way than this was adopted by an economical young gentleman who made a little nick in the rim of a genuine quarter, by which it was fastened to an india rubber cord; the other end of the cord being tied round the arm, the coin, while it appeared to be deposited in the box, was in fact immediately jerked up the coat-sleeve by the elasticity of the cord. Even clergymen com monly concede this to be a creditable contrivance.

To cheat unknown people is also considered lawful. To find lost articles, taking pains to find no owner; to get up fraudulent schemes; to create fictitious values; to do what must result in defrauding somebody, though the particular individuals who are cheated, are and will remain unknown, are instances of this kind of lawful plunder.

Last of all is the direct plunder of known persons. This, though perhaps not less common, is not so generally avowed as a right thing to do. Few indeed are now found to justify in terms the course of the deacon, as indicated by his Saturday night's conversation with his store clerks; "John, my boy, have you watered the liquors?" "Yes." "Have you sanded the sugar?" "Yes." "Then we're all ready for Sunday, so let's go home to prayers." It is, however considered more justifiable to practice extortion, to avail one's self of the necessities of others, to charge unreasonable prices, and especially to take in good natured or intoxicated persons, and all who are either careless about money or ignorant of values. Usury-five per cent, a month in hard times-is also fair, because has not the borrower the privilege of taking the money or leaving it?

Many practice all these and other modes of lawful plunder, seeking to deceive themselves, and vainly hoping to deceive God, into the belief that they are honest men. Tom Hood mentions the curse of an old Jew. who had let a large sum of money, and charged interest upon it at nine per cent., instead of six which was the legal rate. The borrower remonstrated; and at last asked the usurer if he did not believe in a God, and where he expected to go when he died? "Ah," said the old Hebrew, with a pleased twinkle of the eye and a grin, "I have thought of that too-but when God looks down upon it from above, the 9 will appear to HIM like a 6.”

It is easy, however, to cheat one's self; but the successful cheating of one's self into the belief that meanness and lawful plunder are consistent with honesty, is the most desperate of all cheating. Friend, come up higher.-Springfield Republican.

"A great tribulation" has been occasioned in literary circle in England by a charge in the Clerical Journal that the Rev. Dr. Cumming wrote the review and puff of his own work in the London Times.The Critic calls upon the doctor to make "revelations," and relieve himself, if possible, from the damaging accusation.

Letter from an East Indian to the Bosto Transcript.

THE SECOND WINTER.-Mr. Editor-Wherev I go, the first thing I am asked is my impression the winter, "How do you bear our New Engla winter, sir?" "Does not the weather affect yo health?" &c., are the inquiries of my friends. answer, I would say, I bear the cold as well as an body and like the American winter, it is so full new and amusing scenes to me. The skatin sleighing, snows, queer-looking caps, tippets, & are all novelties to me. Before coming to th country, I had read about the western winter-of w ter frozen so hard that heavy teams easily pass ov it of the ground covered with snow several f deep. These accounts I believed in part, and the r sounded too much like a grandmother's story. course I saw ice in Calcutta imported from Bosto but was puzzled to know how water could be so ha by freezing. This was a very natural perplexity, cause I had no idea of the thing at all. When I to the ladies here that the hindoos boil simple milk hard that they make dolls, flowers, &c., out of it adorn their tables, they hardly believed it until I the experiment before their eyes. They by their o hands made flowers of different shape and si which by half an hour became hard as a rock.

As it was a year before last May that I came to th country, I enquired of my friends how soon the sn would fall and water freeze. I used to look throu the windows early in the mornings to see if there w any snow on the ground. In September I notic something white spreading over the ground; I rus ed out in ecstacy, and told my friends about it. C yon imagine my disappointment when they said was mere frost? In Boston I saw the first snow. Astonished, I stood to watch the flecks falling fro the sky. "Father," said I, thus thy blessings f upon us, abundantly and impartially; upon the go and the evil alike." I wished very much th my Bengalee friends could see such a sight; a finding it almost impossible, thought of some way send them a little relic of the white mud, I made solid, heavy snow-ball, which seemed so durable the open air, that I hoped to send it to India by t first opportunity; took it to Mr. M.'s and careful put it on the mantle-piece. Need I tell you the sult; it is well known to you all. In my letters Bengal I described the leading features of the Ame can winter, but could not write anything about fre ing; hoped to do it by and by, after I had some e perience in it. Would you smile, Mr. Editor, wh I say I really wished to freeze a little just to kn what the sensation was? but the Indian heat was much in me that no such thing has occurred yet. dare say there will be some chance this winter for 1 to understand freezing. You remember the cold d you had in last January; I rode then several mi in the country on an open sleigh, without a scarf anything to cover my ears.

The second winter is said to be more trying tropical man than the first. There is some truth the proposition, but not a great deal. Last winte did not have an overcoat until Christmas; this s on I wore it in October; I did not wear gloves m of the time; in this winter, besides the mittens, I my hands in the coat pockets. This is not for cold, though; I fear I have learned a Yankee ha Last Monday I rode 17 miles in an open sleigh, did not suffer more than my companions. My he is on the whole better in this country. My frie tell me to eat meat, even if it was a very little, drink some warm drink; but I cannot do so. I er ate any meat, or used any drink but which comes out of the bosom of our mo earth. Now and then I wish to be in India see the land smile, the flowers bloom, and the I sing in these months. On the late Christmas, churches were decorated with leaves only-there hardly any flowers there. In Calcutta, you e cover the church yard with a few dollars' wort flowers; you could entertain a party of twenty l and gentlemen, for instance, with fourteen king fruits, at the expense of two dollars. Contrasts these create a bit of homesickness in me, but I c it up with the garment of duty, and go on in way rejoicing, singing and praising the glory o Most High. J. C. GANGOOL

Boston, Jan, 9, 1860,

A clerk in a music store was lately overpowere a fastidious young lady, who wanted to pure "Mr. Thomas Hood's-a-a song of the-a-ge man's undergarment!" The clerk is still alive.