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A Weekly Hournal of Politics,

Literature, and Alew

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This is true

Liberty, when Freeborn Men, having to advise the Public, may speak free.”—-Euripides,

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Vol. =

Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, Tuesday, February 7, 1860.

New Series.---No. 4.

Literature.

~

From Blackwood’s Magazine.

SOON Ay

ield and cottage, hillside and highway, ever ready to bless |

the accidental glance of wayfarer or laborer, and to make in| traveller can bear witness to the sweet melody of the chimes the desert of his duily life a momentary oasis ef sweet and that used to sound beneath every balf-bour,

hallowed thouglt. Its peaceful influence extends over the |

EDI

a ——— —s pt a OS —

But it was destroyed by the great fire of 1842. Many a| which touches our affections, or claims affinity with any of|

our nobler emotions; so sensitive is this unique structure to the approach of any element forcign to the early conditions of its existence. As for the great Strasburg example, jthat Jungfrau of all spires, German traditions have very

In later times, between the Germans and the French, was |

————-.—_ — Gleanings from late Papers,

A Swarr Fox, on a Toten Story.—In a recent lecture upod

ig experience in Aretic life, Dr. Rae said :-~—** Un the journey

1 ? $ } nat « ° ‘> Whole landscape, and pierces to its remotest corners. ‘invented the antern,—a feature so ofien and so superbly

‘used, not only en the Continent, but more lately in igiens.

Aud aery barvests crown the fertile lea.” | that we must needs glance at it. This consisted in a tall, . ; . ‘rpendicular, octangular structure, placed upon the tower,

It may be thought that St. Peter’s cock, which so often pee = : : '

| ro, 2 ~ ; 2). quite light and open, and pierced with long windows. Here

answers the sunbeams from the spindly spire, and kindles | they used to swing the bells, and the place was called the

I saw a very curious instance of the sagacity of the Arctie fox. Conscious that | was aiming at him. he tacked his teil under his legs, cocked up his ears, and endeavoured to look as like a hare as possible (which isan animal comparatively worthless). Another fact cf this kind occurred to me, whilst being detained at a particular place. where our favorite amusement was trap- ping wild animals. Our mode of doing this was with asprin

LOVE’S YOUNG DREAM, NOW-A-DAYS.

properly babbled many strange stories about the erection of it. These constitute an episode so characteristic in the his- |tory of spire-building, that this essay would be incomplete, | were they not briefly told here.

“ A gentler life epreads round the holy spires; Where’er they rise, the sylvan waste retires,

Oh, tell me not that distant seas

Roll wide between me and my lover ; In the legendary days of yore, nothing was more common |

For he, I'm sure, is at his «axve—

And I'm in clover. And don't tell me that foreign parts

Will ever make me, deur, forget him ; Nor will he take to breaking hearts,

Unless I let him. ile writes to me by every post,

And every post takes back my answer ; He writes of ** muffins,’’ sieighs, and irost—

I of my cancer.

So don't tel! me that I must mope, While be's im Canada recruiting ;

Ile’s neither Bishop, Saint nur Pope, And fond of shooting.

I wish you'! write to him some day, How very badly i'm behaving, He’ send back word at once w say

He thought you raving.

He likes my going to a ball,

And talking German with Lord Rowan ; D‘you think that, out at Montreal,

aie tlirts with no one?

Ab! you don't know him. I must own I've seen you flirt, my pretty cousin ;

But Willy soon would flirt you down, And sey ral dozen.

Don't talk such sentimental stuf ; You preach as if | were a baby ;

As Willy says, ** I'm not a muff,” Nor he « a gaby.”’

I know he's very fond of me — t know |'m very,fond of Willy ; And as to doubts and jealousy, We're not go silly.

We both intend to have our fun And then ts marry one snother ; And, as the music is begun, Pray no more bother.

—_-_-- -——-— +woee e —

ABOUT SPIRES.

—

St. Peter's at Caeu, a very early specimen, St. Michaci’s at Coventry, Louth, that of the parochial church of Boston in Lincolushire, that of Chichester Cathedral, the three that rise from the famous Lehfield Cathedral, and finally and es- pecially the magnificent spire over the cross at Salisbury. Lo the j dgment of mst English connoisseurs, this is the finest in the world. ft Wis probably erected dur'nz the reign of Kdward IL[., a very florid period for architecture. Is is the highest in Hogland, its summit rising four hundred and four feet from the pavement of the church beneath. Lt

is one of the earliest erected in stone, and is remarkabie for ,

skilful constructiun, the masonry in no purt being more than «von inches thick. This spire is belred with three broad bands of panelled tracery, and there are eight pinnacles at its base, .wo on each corner of the tower. Tue ribs are fretted throughout the whole height with elegant crockets, thus imparting to the sky-line an appearance similar to the gusty spray on the borders of a raiu-clowd. An adwirer has said of it, * It seems as though it had drawn down the very angels to work over its grand aud feeling simplicity the gems and embroidery of Paradise itself!’ = Kngland once boasted the lofiiest spire in the world, that of old St. Paul's, London, whose summit, five hundred and twenty feet from the ground, seemed to sai! among the highest elowls; but the great fire of 1666 destroyed it, and Sir Christopher's stately metropolitan dome uow rises iu its place.

One eould believe in the * merrie” days of Old England, were her abundant spires their ouly evidence. The ardent xeal that kindled so many thousand answering beacons throughout the length and breadth of the land is tie best proof of that concord of souls which is true happiness. know that the deeision of the Council of Clermont about the

We.

and glitters there like star, is rather empty of emblematic | 1.11 om or lowere ; thence the octangular spire arose casily | than to meet that personage known as the Devil walking up

significance and soul-lauguage. But what eaith old Bi-hop | Durandus ?—* The cock ut the summit of the church is a| type of the preacher. For the cock, ever watchful, even in| the depth of right, giveth notice how the hours pass, waketh | the sleepers, predicteth the approach of day,-—but first ex-| citeth himselt to crow by striking his sides with his wings. | There is a mystery conveyed in each of these particulars : | the night is the world; the sleepers are the children of this | world, who are asleep in their sins; the cock is the preacher |

who preacheth boldly, and exciteth the sleepers to cast away |

the works of darkness, exclaiming, Woe to them that sleep ! | Awake, thou that sleepest! and then foretell the approach | of day, when they speak of the Day of Judgment and the) glory that ghall be revealed, and, like prudeut messengers, | before they teach others, arouse themselves from the sleep of | ‘sin by mortifying their bodies; and as the weathercock faces | the wind, they turn themselves boldly to mect the rebellious | by threats and argumeuts.”

Bat it was on the Continent, especially in France, the Low |

j i

Countries, and Germany, that the Gothic flower opened in | fullest perfection; and it is bere that we find the loftiest and | ‘wost luxurious spire-forms. They were always the last part of the church completed, the finishing-touch, the last that was needed to perfection. The progress of the building of a) cathedral thus em odied a beautiful symbolism. Ln most ‘eases, the choir, or east end, the holiest part of the chureh, | was the first erected, in order to sanctify and protect the_ high altar; and then, as the treasures of the church flowed | in, after the expiration of years or centuries, the builders, | tutored by a legendary science, and harmonized by a wonder- | ful feeling of brotherhood, in the same spirit, perfected the | desigus ot their predecessors, by leading out westward the long waves and attendant aisles, completing northward and | southward the transepts, adding a cuapel bere and a porch |

there, glorifying the western frout with the touches of divine |

genius; and when at last every niche was occupied with its | starue of angel, saint, Or pious benefacior, and the holy} choir, with its apsis, had becn readorvel with the accumu- | lated art of centuries, sud glowed with the iris-light frou | painted windows,—when the mural monuments of bishops, | warriors, and kings had thickened Leneath the consecrated roof, and the whole structure had been ballowed by the} prayers and chautings of geuerstions,—then, at lust, over the; ‘ancient tower arose the lofty spire; as if au a gelic messen- |

| }

and fainter, til] at length it melted into the sky!

The finest spires of Europe were erecte] as late as the | fourteenth, fiiteenth, and sixteenth centuries, upon towers, prepared for their reception, usualiy, iu much earlier times, This confidence of the old builders in the fiaa!l completion of ‘their structures is remarkable. ‘They drew without stint-on} the piety of after ages,—a resource which has not unfre- ‘quently proved too feeble to realize their generous expecta- | tions. There are few cities in Kurope waich do not bear | sad marks of this eispiaeed confidence. Tais is especially | witnessed in the unfinished steeples. And, indecd, when we find that vot only one, but two, three, fuur, or even five: ‘spires were sometimes required to flame upward from the same building, as in Caen Cathedral, we do uot wouder that, the kindling spark is often wanting. it would seem as if) ‘another fire uust come down from heaven, as of old it did upon the first offering of Moses and Aaron, to inflame these)

censers, rich in fravkincense and naphtha.

Now let us see what were the distinguishing attributes of the Contineutal spires. We know not why it was, but in the gray old towns of Belgium and the Low Countries there | existed such exuberance of imagination, such an uub-unded luxuriousness of coneeption, as created more images of Gothic quaintness and intricacy than elsewhere can be seen. I! any arehitecture ever expresse] the average of human thought, that of these towns is especially eloquent in its in- dications that their inhabitants were very happy and con-) tented. Look at a print of any old Belgian town or street, | ‘aud you will at once see our meaning. What a joyous up-| springing of pinnacles and pointed 100fs und spires! of no) more earthly use, indeed, than so much pleasant laughter. |

behind clustering pinnacles, flying-buttresses, canopied niches

| frostwork of Gothie genius.

and naturally. Now, notwithstanding this device, those | troublesome triangular spaces still remained unoccupied at | the top of the square tower. The manner in which this) difficulty was remedied was excecdingly ingenions and beaw- | tiful. It was by building on wey delicate pinnacles | or turrets, peopled, perbaps, as at Breiburg, with a silent and | serene concourse of saints in rich Biches, or inclosing, as at | tas u-g spiral open-work stairs. Thise structures accom- panied the tall lantern through its whole height; thus ren-) dering the entire group a memory, as it were, of the square | tower belaw, while, at the same time, it beautifully Reemhas- | owed the octangular character of the sky-seeking spire above, —a significant symbolism.

Now, when the Belgians and their neighbors received the | apire thus from the fatherland, they at once began to express | in it the joy of their worship by all the embroidery ond | tender imagery and grotesque conceits it was capable of re-_ ceiving. They varied as many changes on it as they did on their bells, They concealed the first springing of their spires |

with gigantic statues, galleries with battlemenes an] parapets |

pierced and mantled in lacework of flamboyant tracery. | pointed gables alive with crockets and finials, and long, quaint | dormers,—all_ with a bewildering intricacy of enricament. | And they inherited from the Germans a love for the gar: | goyle, which haunted the springing of the spire at the corners | with visions of yery hideous diadlerie. It may well le believed that these florid builders did not suffer the spire to arise serious and serene from the midst of this delicious | tangle of architecture. They tricked it out with all the Not only did they use in its decorative spire-lights, erockets, ribs and cinctures, bands of gablets, and masses of reticulated relief, but, with wonderful | skill, they pierced each face from base to apex in foliated — patterns of great richness, so that the whole spire became a | web of delicate open-work, through which the light was) sprinkled in beautiful shapes, varying with every movement of the beholder. Their plainer spires of wood they were | fond of covering with glazed tiles of various tints arranged | in quaint taste. And they would vary the outline by making it curve inward, giving a fine sweep thus from the base to an | apex of great slenderness. with exaggerated refinement. the eatasis of the ‘treek column.

There are instanece of this last treatment both in Franee and

Sometimes they would give it, |

and down the earth, in innocent guise, but ripe for all sorts of mischief, especially where the people were building up mighty monuments to the glory of the good God. Very naturally, the sacred spire was a special object of his aversion ; and, for some reason or other, that of Strasburg was honor- ed with peculiar marks of his hatred. Two ancient churches, which stood on the site of the present minster, had been suc- cessfuly destroyed by fire; and although, in the one case, this had been kindled by the torch of an invading army, and in the other by a thunderbolt, yet the infernal agency, in both cases, nobody ever thought of doubting. So it was the effort of Werner to combat these evil influences ; and be ac- cordingly inflamed the pride and indignation of the people to such a degree, that throughout the land all concerted to de- feat the wicked designs of the Adversary. In two centuries and a half the whole cathedral was completed, save the tower, the coruver-stone of which was forthwith laid with great

1277. Doubtless the Arch-Fiend laid many eunning schemes

to entrap the illustrious architect, Erwin of Sseinbach ; but, unlike his brother in the craft at Cologne, he came out un- scathed ; so we must believe that throughout the whole work he was actuated by the most unselfish spirit of devotion, in- fernal machinations to the contrary notwithstanding. Now it must be confessed that the Enemy had a hard time of it, since we read that the good Bishop Conrad fought against him with all the powers of the Church, and granted absolu- tion for all sins, past, present and future, for forty thousand years, to whatever should contribute to the building of the spire by money, material, or labor. -Owing to the searcity of parchment, these grants of absolution were made out of asses’ skins ; and it will be scen, that, in the great s‘ruggle, these instruments retained in a very eminent degree that quality of stubborn resistance which had cost them in their original state many a beating from the driver's staff. The

| greatest enthusiasm was kindled among rich and poor; year | after year, thousands of pilgrims flocked hither from all Germany to offer their aid, without reward or recompense, to

the building of the tower ; and out of the farthest voundaries, even from Austria, came wagons loaded with building- materials, the gratuitous offering ef the pious. Rich legacies |were left to the work, and many a cloister devoted a fourth part of its yearly revenues to the same object. So much for asses’ skins!

| qiaintaess of form that these enthusiasitic workmen uttered thirteenth ecutury, he shook the structure with a frightful

their inspirations, They built their spires to a most amazing earthquake, which terrified al} Alsatia, and, although whole height. i level tracts of country, where they could be seen at immense the Wwunderleauy as th2 Germans love to call it, were uot distances, as not only in Belgium end thereabout, but on the | joosened, and no store was moved from its place. A few flat margins of the upper and lewer Rhine, as at Strasburg | years afterwards, in 1289, he once more made use of his

Indeed, the loftiest steeples in the world arose in streets were thrown down in Strasburg, yei the foundations of

the good people of Louvain. cathedral, of which the central one reached the unpara/ieled | height of five hundred and thirty-three feet, according to.

and Qologne. — In these countries, and about the North of France, there was a generous rivalry as to which city should lift up highest the cruss of GoJ, But as soon as the sacred passion for spire-buildiag was corrupted by this new element of human emulation, some strange things happened, The

eople of Beauva's, for instanee, desiring to beat the people | pee; . peop

of Amien, set to werk, we are told, to build a tower on their eathe Iral as high as they possibly could. The same thing had been dune once before on the plains of Shinar. One furesees the result, of course; “ it fell, fur it was founded upon the sand, and great was the fall thereof.” And so with

Hope, and the side-towers four hundred and thirty fect. This tremendous group, however, fe'!, or, threatening destruction,

was taken down, in 1604. We remember what the Wander- |

. —

er said so fiuely in the ** Excursion :’

They built three spires to their |

‘favorite element, and laid in ashes the market-place of Stras- burg all around the minster, More fortunate than its great compeers, St. Paul's of London, and St. Peter's of Hawbarg, ‘it miraculously experienced but trifling damage.

} - - ° ° .

| Well, the great Erwin died at last, when he had built the

tower as high as the roof-ridye of the nave. His son succeed- ed him, finished the tower te the platform, when he, too, was gathered to his fathers in 1339. John Hiltz followed as master; and finally his nephew, Hiltz LL, in 1439, finished the grand pyramid, fixed the colossal cross in its place, and crowned the whole with a gigantic statue of the Virgin. Thus, from the laying of the foundation-stone till all was completed, were one hundred and sixty years; yet through- out this time the work was never discontinued, and five Successive generations labored upon its walls.

But the wrath of the Arch-Enemy, as may well be believed, waxed greater as this prodigious structure gradually deve-

os Sin nisi meiieenandiiies iloped iteelfin all its lordiness and strength, and was not at _all appeased at its triumphaht completion. ver since then elitr eta 2° 3 , ; ee

Aut the axel neuen ts deep , he has visited its stately height with especial marks of his Malahen. eteids tenth ta bamedees thebie .” walice. The most furious tempests have raged about it, and }more than sixty times has it been struck by lightning, and

But we find that ecclesiastie edifives were not the only | ¢ h caiheeataaiieieriata ' ones which were adorned with this high building ; fur town- |: - times = — een Qe oes foundations. Bat ; in vain. “ The Golden Legend” tells us how Lucifer and

halls were not infrequently distinguished by immensely lofty | dus Pench a hin Glia eed ce re f spire, aud how he

That "tia a thing imposible to frame Conceptions equal to the soul's desire;

gun, connected with a bait, which, when touched, produ the explosion. One instance showed us that a fox, either from observation ef a companion’s fate, or from hard-earned experience, had gone up to the gun, bit off the cord connectot with the bait, and the danger being averted, went and ate the meat in undisturbed comfort. ‘and it isa common occurrence for the fox to make a trench up to the bait, seize it, and per- mit the charge to pass over his head.”

—_—_—__ 69.6

Tue Late ELoreuzsts.—In alluding to Mrs. Gurney’s elope- ment with her footman, the Olserver states that the lady left her husband a note, in which she consigns to his eare her two children, and regrets that her ion tor het pstamout come pels her to follow the bent of her inclinations. Under the new act, a portion of this lady’s property can be settled by the court on her children. The second cave of elopement is ver¥ deplorable. A millionaire in Kent, a large landowner, had a daughter upon whom he was prepared to bank his fortune. This young Jady was wooed and wen by the curate of the parish in which she resided, The rev. gentleman wished to

|pomp by Bishop Conrad of Lichtenberg, on the 25th of May, make her his wife, but the father resviately refused, and eventually she was induced to marry a rich Duteh merehaut.

Upon her marriage her father settled £160,000 upon hor. The lady was married about four years, and about a forth! ght since eloped with her furmer admirer, the parson ~~+ee-—___- Tur Loxnon Worknovszs.—Che London workhousus kept their Christwas Day as usual, by giving the inmates an extra supply of ercature comforts, including, of course, the standard national fare of roast beef and pluw-pudding. Private bene- volence assisted ina great measure in affording the means for the hearty celebration of the festivity, and awong the nume- rous donors to the metropolitan workliouscs,stands prominently a Greek merchant, who presented to a great many places o case of currants, weighing 168 Ibs. A Londen contemporary publishes some interesting details connected with the London workhouses, from which it appears they contained from 40,- 000 to 50,000 people on Sunday, though this immense number shows @ considerable decrease from that secorded last year. Increased commercia] prosperity has absorbed a large amount of those who were last year recipients of publie charity Throughout the kingdom the obseryanco of the 26th as a holiday seems to have beon general,

——s.e_---—

A Srartiine Occrrngxcr.—A lady who had returned’ from India three yoars ago, was the other day opening o- drawer in what is termed a bullock trunk. To hor amaze- ment and horror a snake reared up its head ; her first impulse was to push the drawer to, but it was stiff and heary. She ran, screaming, down stairs for help. Her brother, who was in the drawing-room, went to her assistance, and preceded her

(Concluded ) ger had spread his wings at its base and mounted upward to) p19) Meanwhile the Devil was not idle, In the night-winds | again up stairs. The snake was not to be seen. and Rites

. , : , i he idl the competi te hii h d his 'ezions would shrick and yell and ! t i Sane — 4 : > aven, shouting out the rlad tidings of the coms tetion of ' 7 A ,s€ an us ‘€z10ns W suriek and yell apd rattic among /tleman thought it must hav . : “

é The most famous spires of Hugland and Normandy are heaven, showing mn * wont crew fuinte, | Blut it was not only in exuberance of enrichment and] the scaffolding and erancs in vain. In the latter part of e te s ete e been his sister's imagination : : ithe Iluu-e of God, and, as he arose, the voice grew fainter the scaffoiding and cranes in Vain. in tae latter part of the | 80, some little time, the search was given up. The

following morning a canary, that always hung in the lady’s room, was missing, and in looking into the cage, the enake lay curled up at the bottom of it, and all that remained of the bird by his side. There was no difficulty in destroying the snake, and it was discovered to be what is termed a green snake, whose nature is to make a spring at the eye, when death imrmediately ensues. The marvel ix how the reptile: lived so long and the lady eseaped.—Court Journal, rt

Iyrerestine Sratistics.—The United States are composed of thirty-one States and nine Territorics

They contain a population of 27,000,000, of whom 25,000,- 000 ure white.

The extent of sea coast is 12,550 miles.

The length of the ten principal rivers is 20,000 miles.

The surface of the five yreat lakes is 90,000 square miles.

The nawmler of miles of railroad in Operation is 20,000, which costs $78,000,000.

The length of canals is 5,000 miles, | _ It contains the longest railroad on the globe—the Illinois | Central—which is 784 miles, | The annual value of its agricultural pr ions i - eanare Z productions is $200, | Its most valuable production is Iudian corn, which yields annually 40,000,000 of bushels. on amount of registered and enrolled tonnage is 4,407,- | The amouat of cap’tal invested in manufactures is $600,- 000,000.

The annus) amount of its internal trade is $600,000,000,

The annual value of its produets of labor, other than agri- cultural, ie $1,500 000.

}

Crusades was believed to have been in-tantly known through There is no tower without its spire, no tarret or gable with- | Spires, a8 at Brursels, It “ya curious to sec, however, how | ied ‘cid The annual value of the income of the inhabitants is "hristend nd t! h t God willeth it! bic t its pinnac’e, no oriel without its pointed roof, uo d> mer easily the less exalted impulses which erected them may be | , $1,500,000. Christendom, and that the great ery, God willeth il! w ich ou its plnnac ¢, no or je tee por ’ : | dinsoveted, ‘Toop de met acnrythes clin) ap. taation nto! « Tlasten ! haston’ ! The value of farms and live stock is $500.0 shook the council-roof, was echoed trom hill to hill, and at! without some such playful leaping up into the air. Kvery ; 45% ce Se J ’ oe et © ye spirite ! [ ; # and live Stock 16 $5 ,000,000, once struck awe and astonishment to the hearts of remotest salient point attacks the sky with its long iron spinde, | the sky, like the famous passage Chaos, in Milton, —, From its station drag the ponderous _ its mines of gold, copper, lead aud iron are amoung the dands. So in the birthplaces of our Pilgrim fathers, over | wrought with strange device und Learing a hospitable cup | difficulty and labor hard.” They bave not the lizht, airy Cress of ieee that So mek wo richest in the world. cane ished spots : sin it | where the bird makes his nest ; and every spindle sings and gliding upward of the religious spire, whose feeling George | Is uplitted high inthe air !"’ The value of gold produced is $100.000,000 ‘ . . ’ " - 7s a . . . > . . r “ . . ’ . ” _ | shrieks with a sh ftine vaue,—so that the wind never sweeps | [lerbert had in his mind, when he sang of prayer :— ‘and how the voices replied,— lhe surface of its coal fields is 138,131 square acres,

“ Where che kneeling hamlets drained The chalice of the grapes of Gud,” srose the “s'a rj-poin’ing”™ spire, like a voice of adoration ; and then another would be raised in unison in some neigh- ‘boring village, where they could see and communicate with euch other in their silent lanzuage ; and yet another close by among the hills ; and presently, i full view from its summnt, twenty more, perbaps,—till the good tidings were known through the whole country, a:d from hamlet to hamlet, over he streams and trce-tops, was thus echoed the great Te Deum of the land. For it was said among the peuple, in that antique spirit of worship, as Milton exhoried the birds iu bis Hyma of Thauksgiving,— ** Join voices; all ye living soule! ye spires, That singing up to heaven’s gate ascend, Boar 03 y ur wings and in your notes His praise!”

‘ ; 1 iri oT tee * on} “ ifie 1 F 1 99 | ° . i ° « * - ° . lt is & beautiful proof of the Spirit of sacrifice which ac- | has been called * the petrification of music l jike Spinxes, and none knew their riddies ! They are very | there it stands to this day, high up In the silence of wid- | strength to reach the shore, plunged into the sea, and were

“uated the Masonic builder of the Middle Ayes, that his fairest and most precious works were not cvnfined to the

yreat me ropolitan ch rches and cathedrals, where they could | be seen of men, but were frequently found in quiet and se-| eluded villages, nestled among pastoral solitudes, far away from the gaze an! adairation of the world. Though the | spire of Salisbury was, perhaps, an epic in Masonic poetry, | yet in humble hamlets of Hogland, beyond ber most distant

bills and aaid many an unnamed * sunny spot of g eenery,”

were idyls sung no less exquisite than this. Many a village | spire, of conceptioa ao less beautiful, arose abov« the tree- | tops among the most untrodden ways. All day long its:

loved to preach silent homilies on “ the passing away,” even to the simplest poor.

ameet with these beautiful forms im the lonely wildsrness, | where the ivy slone, as it throws its loving arms around them, appears to recognize their grace and all their tender siguificance. It is like the chance discovery of a good deed done in the darkness, or like a pure life spent in the sweet | and serious retirement of a little hamlet, poiuting the way to heaven for its seanty flock of cottugers.

It was the custom in those days, during the celebration of Mass, at the moment when the Lost was raised, to cing # peculiar bell in the tower, ia order that those not gathered beneath the conscerated roof might be made aware tar and wide of the awful ceremouy, and be reminded to off-r up their devotion in unison. And we remember what Izaak Walton said of quaint George Herbert,—how “ some of the meaner sort of Lis parish did 20 love and reverence Mr. Herbert, that they would lot their plough rest when his

It mu-t be inexpressibly touching t0 | shapes.

\tirely at the tops of their towers, as they did at the tops of

idly over a Belgian town. This innocent and happy people | ‘did not frown through the ages from grim battlements, and | ‘we pos‘erity with stern and massive walls. But they loved | lold childlike a°socia‘ions and fireside tales. They loved to| ‘build eurious fountains in commemoration of pleasant legends. | They Icved tec, tle bege, Cel e:ous-toned belis o‘their min- | ster-towers, and the sweet changes of melodious, never-ceasing ‘chimes, They carved their Lares and Peaates on-their | ‘house-fr_nts very curiously, with sun-dials and h»tchments, | sacred texts and legends of hospitality. The narrow strests | lof Ghent, Louvain, Liege, Mechlin, Autwerp, Ypres, Bruges | are thus full of household memories and saintly traditions. | 3o it is not strange that 2 people whose daily hours were counted out with the music of belfries were fond of fretting, ‘their towers with workmanship so precious and delicate that |

‘upon to embody the great conceptions of their forefathers. ’ i - r , . the wing after having for filty years borne the insults of these airy

powers till it had lost all its original brightness and its face

‘great conceptions were forgotten, or lived only as vague and

«Of what an easy, quick accesee,

* Oh, we cannot ! My blessed Lord, art thou ! how suddenly

For around it All the Saii.ts and Guardian Angels Throng in legions to protect it; Lhey defeat us everywhere !””

ro

May our requests thine ear invade ! Not so; but it is all human rivalry, a succession of diminisi- | ing towers, steps piled one ab. ve another, where the mind

ory : the, 2 its i ev i Vi iri success ‘ul ; onels every now and then may stop to breathe, and then fight its; At one point, however, ihe evil spirits were succees"ul ; the | eouut of the loss of an Koglish merchantman (

Within her borders are 80,000 schovls, 5,000 aeademics 234 colleges and 3,800 churchea, ceerees-oheslllilgdaenctts

Surewnecks tN tie Buack Sea,—A letter from Constan-

|t nople, received in Paris, Jan. 2, coutains the following ae- three-masted),

way onward again ;—not an Asvension, like that from Be- | colossal statue of the Virgin, which crowned the diszy sum-|aeme soknows, ead all hands on the 23rd of Norembe ’ - a rem r

thany ; rather the toil of a very human, though very Jaudable mit, and was familiar with the secrets of the Upper air, ||

ambition. " ; _ j#nd which, ike its dre.d Enemy, Unfinished spires were in Europe very common ie gecies | D phate nish from generation to generation. Descendants were called | In shape and gesture proudly eminent, Stued like a tuwer,”— But the ancestral spirit too often failed in the land,

of aspiration Was broken, the crane rotted in its place, the “ Deep sears of thunder had intrenehed,’’—

ws’, ina viclent gale of wind on the coast of Asia. in the Black Ses. The Knglish bark Hlizabeth was wrecked the «ame day on a sand bank near Vila, a village situate on the | Riack Sea. The crew were fortunately saved :

“ The inhabitants of the village, on hearing of the accident (says the writer of the letter), proeseded to the shore, and some Piliciris, famous swimmera, seeing that three of the crew of the Hlizabeth were endeavoring to save themselves

dreamy inheritances; and the half-completed spires stood was taken down and the present cross put in its place. And | by swimming, and fearing that they should not have the

But before we proceed to tell in how Qorid a manner the, melancholy memorials. Like the broken columns over the air, where the voices of the city below are rendered small so fortunate as to «se the three s-amen, one ef whom was Low Countries interprered the simpler forms of spires, We! graves of the departed, fallen short of their natural uses, and thin by the distance,—four hundred aud seventy-four | pilot. : ’

shall describe generically in what manner not only they, bat) all the other European kingdoms, were indebted to the old) Riineland towns for some of these forma,

they seem only the funeral monuments of a race that is dead. feet above the heads of the populace, who, in their littleness, The empty air is still over them in expectation, and the crawl about and traffic at its base. This amazing summit,

| The captain and fuur of the crew remained op beard. The | Palicaris made repeate] signals to the captaie and the others

y 4 e . . : - ¢ ° a ee When the bells’ i aoination makes vain pictures, and fills out their crescent }+- moulded in colossal calm,” in its unapproachable grandeur, | to throw themselves into the water, but they hesitated to de tower, in about the seventh or eighth century, began to be of aplendil purposes, They have been called “ broken pro- | seems to forget the city from which it rises, and to hold com- | so, :

A wealthy inhabitant of Pera, who happened to be »

used in Germaty, it at ouce received certain very important) nig to God.’ Too often, perhaps, they were rather munior only with that vast circle of * crowded forme and | spectator of the scene, addressed the Palicaris, and said ke modifications on the earlier Jtalian eampanile. The upper sgnuments of the fecbleness of those who would scale heaven Jessening towers” which it surveys. It is a worthy com- | would give five purses ‘2 500 piasters) to any one toe ‘d terminations of these latter were horigsutal, on acevant of) vii, anything but adoration upon the'r lips. ‘There were | panionship; on the one hand, the great Vosgian chain, the | save the diene wae aL 8. tant re es their flat roofs. . Now iu more northern c:imates, where the) (i) jndeed, and Cologne, and Mechlih, as artistic intentions, ‘closed gates cf Franee,—on the other, afar off, the hills of | was floated off from the Klizaheth. The Palicaris sae eos

snow falls, these flat roofs would be unsafe and inconvenient. |

eminently grand and beautiful ; and in the early part of the | the Black forest, and, more uear, Father Rhine, winding his

ito the raft, and succeeded in reaching it. One of them

shadow lingers in the quiet churchyard, and poin's among | in pape liege. oligg ieteide oa ‘six:eenth century Belgium was famous for desigus of opcn- silver thread among the villages and vineyards of Germany. | quickly detached a cord from his wrist and tied it to the raft. > Ne ‘ | Abenis © : , Geinhausen, urach, = | the humble graves, as if, over this dial of human life, 1 )....° Sane Bingen, * sweet Bingen on the Rhine,” ne

longer ended in these horizontal liaes, but arose in pointed |

ludeed, the Germans, who were gieat rivals of the

Italians in those days, not only in matters pertaining to ar- chiteeture, but to literatere also, in the same independent spirit which induced them alone, of all civilised peoples, to retain through all time the cramped, angular letters of mouk- ish transcribers, in preference to the fair and sqaare Roman forms, took particular pride in avoiding horizoutal lives en-

their letters. Wherever they so occur, they are iusignificant, —rather ornameutal than constructive. Not so with the English ; they kept the aquare tops to their towers, and con- tented thewselves with tie pointed superstructure. Let us see how Teutonic stubLerness arranged the matter. Hach separate face of their towers, whether these towers were square of octanguiar, ended above in a gable ; and from these gsbdles, in various ways, arose the ovtaugular pointed roof or spire. Tuis cireumsiance, more than any other, tended to

work spires, which, if erected, would have surpassed in |

: . - as There is (or was) an esormous key suspended just benevih height and richness all hitherto extsting.

‘the cross of Strasburg Cathedral, its usc, and why it was Of the fiuish:d spires, the loftiest in the world are, first, placed there, having passed away from the memory of man. that of Strasbu'g Minster, 474 fect; second, that of St.| Lf i¢ were not to opeu the gates of heaven for those who byilt Stephens at Vienna, 469 feet ; third, that of Notre Dame at this adler of light and those who worship in its shadow, Autwerp, 466 feet ; Freiburg in the Breisgan, 3805 feet; it remains a riddie and a blank. Let us accept the inter- and thea fullow the disiinguished heights of Landshat, pretation, and, made mild-eyed by the lens of tender memo- Utrect, Rouen, Chartres, Brussels, Soissour, and others. ries, we shall behold in every spire @ means of grace and a The highest spire in our own country is that of Trinity jhope of glory. Caurch, New York. 284 feet. We do not sweep the cob- | re: webs from the sky +o effectually as when men built according | Dgarn of rue Tatxixe Fisn.—This wonderful Jusus natura to the seale of spiritual exaltatin rather than that of died fast week in London. Soon after the hard weather act practical feet and inches,—atter the stature of the goul, in it began to give indications of being ‘* out of sorts,’’ and rather than that of the man. was very ill for 3 days previous to its death, being unable to

dn o- rece ie ih tia at ., perform. It was covered with blankets, and the water les The architects of the revival of classic architecture, with 4u¢ of its tub. Several medieal gentlemen, acquainted with