to control, and when a commercial or financial depression occurs, those who are the first to suffer, and among the most helpless victims, are book-keepers, clerks, copyists, and office attendants of every kind. At such times the workman in a number of the mechanical trades can find employment on his own account. The shoemaker can make shoes or mend them; the tailor can make garments or mend them; the painter and glazier, the carpenter, the bellhanger, the locksmith, the plumber and the gasfitter, and many others that will occur to the reader, can search for and find odd jobs that will give them at least the means of living. The skilled man, with tools at his command, is in most respects, master of the situation. But the clerk, the book

keeper, the office attendant are helpless. They cannot establish mercantile, commercial or manu facturing houses to give employment to themselves. They must wait many and many a weary day until the season or the years of depression are over, before they can find that employment for their pens which they have unfortunately made their sole means of livelihood. All this is another of the lamentable results of having learned no trade in boyhood. The subject is, indeed, one so wide in its ramification, and so profoundly important in its consequences, that it is time it had engaged more thorough and more systematic attention on the part of the people who are so deeply interested."

TELL NOT THY GRIEF.

(WRITER UNKNOWN).

"The heart knoweth its own bitterness."
Tell not thy grief-

It may be that thy brother's heart can feel
Sorrow for suffering that thy words reveal,
And give thy heart relief;

But soon his ear will weary of a tale
Too oft repeated ;-then, of no avail
The lengtben. d story of thy secret ill:
Bear on in silence-suffer, and be still.

Yes, we must bear alone:

Hard lesson this, for the young heart to learn,
Seeking for sympathy in every turn,

In every friendly tone.

But when the task is learned, although in tears
The beart gives up the hopes of early years,
Though anguish may its very life-cords wring;
Still gains it strength by its own suffering.

It is the common lot;

Man is conscious man forever;
Once the void of life revealed,
It must deepen on forever,
Unless God fill up the soul
With himself for once and ever.
-R. Monkton Milnes, (now Lord Haughton).

MY CREED.

I hold that Christian grace abounds
Where charity is seen; that when
We climb to Heaven, 'tis on the rounds
Of love to men.

I hold all else, named piety,

A se fish scheme, a vain pretence;
Where centre is not-can there be
Circumference ?

This I moreover hold, and dare

Affirm where'er my rhyme may go,
Whatever things be sweet or fair,

Love makes them so.

Whether it be the lullabies

That charm to rest the nursling bird,
Or that sweet confidence of sighs

And blushes made without a word.
Whether the dazzling and the flush
Of softly sumptuous garden bowers,
Or by some cabin door, or bush
Of ragged flowers.

'Tis not the wide phylactery,

Nor stubborn fast, nor sta ed prayers,
That make us saints; we judge the tree
By what it bears.

And when a man can live apart
From works, on theological trust,
I know the blood about his heart

The Ascent of Mont Blanc, in the Summer of 1866, by a Philadelphian.

One of the most interesting excursions from Chamounix is that to the "Jardin," a little oasis of verdure in a vast basin of snow, and with the lofty aiguilles of the Mt. Blanc range towering almost perpendicularly thousands of feet above it to the north and west. Being more than 9000 feet above the sea, the vegetation is confined to the short grass of the high Alps, with a few flowers of the bardiest nature; but found, as it is in the midst of the great glaciers, which, though slowly moving by, are never absent from the scene, it forms a delightful rest to the eye, tired with the glare of snow, and is very acceptable to the wearied traveller who seeks its shelter. The extent of the "Jardin "

None know the hidden soul, save He whose eye is probably about two acres, the ground sloping

Looks through each dark recess for ever nigh,
Though we behold Him not:

Yes, it was by his own, his holy will
That wants, too deep for human love to fill,—
Should to our thirsting spirits here be given,

steeply to the south, and covered with stones and rocks, from among which springs up the hardy vegetation giving it its attractive but not particularly appropriate name. The morning

That we the living stream might seek in heaven. being bright and fine, an excursion had been

All things once are things for ever;

Soul, once living, lives forever;

Blame not what is orly once,
When that once endures forever;
Love, once felt, though soon forgot,
Moulds the heart to good forever;
Once betrayed from childhood's faith,

arranged to explore, with guides, the "Mer de glace," and to visit some crevasses lying near the ordinary route across it; but, as the party were not ready to start, I strolled off in advance, and, taking a broad and well-worn path across the meadows, soon reached the foot of the

deposited at its side, rising in some places to a great height and showing the elevation to which the glacier had risen at some past period. The breaks or crevasses in the ice result from the same movement of the glacier, and vary in depth, width and frequency with the rapidity of descent of the valley they are traversing. The main body of this glacier, as well as of most others, is comparatively unbroken. The openings are generally not more than three or four feet in width, and when too wide to leap can readily be turned by a short detour to the right or left. Inexperienced in ice work, the approach across the broken ice at the side of the glacier seemed to me quite a formidable work. The crevasses were large and deep, and as you were compelled to pick your way carefully along the narrow edge of ice, not more than six or eight inches wide, which separated the chasms, a good chance was offered the adventurous to examine the beauties of these realms of ice. As accidents rarely occur here, it may be considered as not being dangerous work. We got over it in safety, and began our walk. The ice surface was quite wet, and a great deal of water filled the pools and hollows, as it ran down in search of an opening to the stream below, but it was merely an annoyance, not an impediment. In about two hours we reached the upper end of the Mer de glace, and, leaving the ice, ascended a steep and high moraine, which edged

mountain and began the ascent, and much to
my surprise I found here an excellent, well-
graded and perfectly safe path, shaded finely
during the morning. Up this a pleasant hour
(passed in making a constant but gradual as
cent) brought me to the "Montauvert," a rest
ing-place for voyageurs, the house where guides
for the "Mer de glace" can be obtained, and
whence parties not intending long excursions on
the ice cross the glacier and descend on the op-
posite side by the Mauvais pas" and by the
"Chapeau." Numbers were here, stopping to
lunch, to examine the curiosities, and to make
the final preparations for the ice. These are
very simple. A strong staff with an iron point
projecting a couple of inches is indispensable.
A few large headed nails in strong shoes will
then give all the security of movement that can
be got from artificial means. Crinoline, long
skirts, or any dress likely to embarrass your
movements, must be laid aside, and thus pro-
vided, your trust in moments of danger must be
in nerve. Should there be a bright sunshine,
it is best to wear a thick veil to protect the skin
of the face, or colored glasses to shield the eyes
from the reflexion. So purely white is the fresh
snow, and so troublesome the ice alone, that
even the strongest eyes need not despise pro-
tection, if exposed for many hours upon the up.
per glaciers. Finding that the party with whom
I intended to visit the crevasses did not arrive,
and seeing that all the high peaks were cloud-a
less, the sky beautifully blue, and everything
indicative of a delightful day, it occurred to me
that such an opportunity to visit the "Jardin "
ought not to be neglected at a time of year when
the weather was very unsettled, and when snow
had fallen several times recently. Having cho-
sen a guide, and taken a lunch to be eaten in
the upper regions, a hasty start was made, as
the hour (eleven o'clock) was late, and the ice
getting wetter under a noon-day sun. Our
track after leaving the Montanvert tavern
(where the broad and graded path ends) skirted
the south side of the glacier for nearly a mile,
gradually descending from the elevated point
on which the Auberge stands, but frequently
ascending abruptly, a short distance, to avoid
bad pieces of rock. Parts of the track are along
ledges of rock, which afford the scantiest foot-
hold from their almost vertical position, others
over loose stones, which yield at every step; but
with care there is no cause for fear, and reach-
ing the moraine you pass at a favorable point
out upon the Mer de glace.

Between the firm body of the ice and the solid rock of the mountain there are mostly two bodies, one of ice fractured and crevassed by huge chasms of great depth the other of broken rocks torn from the shore, and ground to pieces by the resistless power of the moving ice. These are carried down upon the ice, and

glacier coming down from the "Aiguille Vert." The climb, under a hot noon sun, up this mass of stone and rock, took nearly half an hour, and was very tiresome. On reaching the top of it, we crossed a level stretch of ice, covered with freshly fallen snow, several inches deep, which did not add to our comfort or relieve our fatigue, but which brought us to the "Jardin," where we were to take our lunch. The high rocky peaks surrounding this spot rise to a great height, and cut off communication, except on the south, by which side you reach it. Their sharp and almost perpendicular points, termed aiguilles, seem to defy the power of man to ascend, but even their steep cliffs have been climbed and their dizzy heights explored. It was delightful to bask in the warm sunshine upon the bright green grass on this calm September day. Not a breath of air was to be felt, but the high elevation made the atmosphere charming, and time passed rapidly in enjoyment of the beautiful scene around. The stillness was perfect; not a sign of life visible, nor a living being within miles, and, save the little spot around, snow, pure, white and fresh, was everywhere stretching away, for miles upward and onward, until your sight is closed by the noble summit of the giant of the Alps. It was time to retrace our steps, and following the track made in crossing the level, we reached and quickly descended the great mo aine up which

we had toiled. Our route down the glacier was travellers could be seen toiling up through what much more rapid than our ascent (as the de- seemed to us to be deep snow, and making so cline was sufficient to be perceptible in walk-slow a progress as to give faint hopes of the acing), and we soon reached a spot apparently facomplishment of their aims. By means of a vorable for leaving the ice, and taking the route good glass these mites on the huge mountain down that side of the glacier opposite to the could be readily and distinctly seen, and when Montanvert. The judgment of the guide was thus located the eye had no trouble in distinat fault. We became involved in a labyrinth guishing them and counting their numbers. of deep and ugly crevasses as we approached At last they disappeared upon the grand plathe moraine, and it required all our energy and teau, and were not again seen until toward the activity to pass over and along the narrow and close of the day, when they approached the slippery edge which separated one from the "grand mulets." It was pronounced an incomother. When the rocks were reached, and their plete ascent, and proved to be so when the ascent begun, we found a body of hard ice un party got back to the village. They had started derlying the strata of broken stone of which from the grand mulets too late to make the trip. the moraine was formed, and rendering the A few days before two Germans made the assteep climb very difficult and annoying. One cent, were detained 24 hours at the mulets by step up and two steps backwards, with a young a snow storm, and were afterwards so delayed avalanche of stones threatening to carry you to by the depth of snow and the fatigue of walkthe bottom, were the pleasing accompaniments ing through it, that they did not reach Chaof this scramble, but at last we reached terra mouni until the fourth day. firma. From this point our progress was much more rapid. We soon separated, my guide and I; he to cross the Mer de glace, and I to go down the Mauvais pas. This path, following the glacier, soon reaches a point where the ice, owing to the rapid fall of the valley down which it moves, is broken into the most fantastic and picturesque shapes, and forms one of the best views of a crevassed glacier in this neighborhood. The path here is made along the face of a rocky bluff, and descends, by means of steps, rapidly and sharply to the more level ground beyond. A rail of iron protects you as you pass, either by guarding you from the precipice, or giving you a hold by which you can escape the danger. A steady head makes its use unnecessary, but to others it is indispensable. This is the famous "Mauvais Pas," which, quite a terror in the eyes of some, was crossed without the use of either hand rail or baton. Below this point the "Chapeau," a small house for refreshment, offers its attractions to the ,wayfarer. The view up the glacier, over the orevasses, is very fine, and fully rewards for the labor of the ascent. Travellers who ascend the "Montanvert" on horses or mules, and cross the Mer de glace on foot to this point, are met by the animals, which have been in the meantime taken to the foot of the mountain, and brought up to the Chapeau. The path to the valley is good, mostly through the forest, and was long enough to prevent my reaching the high road until after dark, and the hotel at Chamouni at half-past seven, about four hours after leaving the Jardin. The route by the Montanvert is probably three miles shorter, and offers a better path. It took me about three hours to reach the Jardin from the Montanvert.

Our attention during the next day was drawn to Mt. Blanc, near whose summit a party of

A French artist, who had climbed Mt. Blanc some half dozen times, and an Englishman, of the Alpine Club, who had been twice upon the summit, were my companions during the day, and our conversation naturally turned upon the wonders of these unknown regions of ice, and the beauties and attractions offered to the visitor. I was of course quite ready to accept their invitation to join in an excursion next day as far as the "grand mulets," and the few needful arrangements were made for the trip. The batons were brought out, shoes overlooked and missing nails supplied, strong clothing selected, veils and colored glasses secured, so that when we left the hotel next morning, before sunrise, we were, as the jockey says, in "good condition." The party consisted of four gentlemen and three guides, one for each of us except the French artist, whose experience on the ice and confidence in his own ability made a guide unnecessary. On leaving the village our path followed the meadow westwardly, gradually approaching the base of the mountain, and slowly ascending until we entered the forest, when the ascent became much more rapid. There is a mule path most of the distance traversed over the land, but we took a more direct route, as cending very rapidly, and enabling us to reach the "Pierre Pontue" before the sun had risen high enough to throw us out of the mountain's shade. This little cabin is built on the side of the glacier of "Bossons," a short distance below the point where you enter upon the ice, and it is the last resting place upon terra firma. The mules stop here, and travellers, also tired with the sharp climb from Chamouni, are fain to rest themselves awhile upon the hard seats which it affords. Mine host is a landlord of repute, and caters for the hotel of the grand mulets, of which he is proprietor. The food and fuel used there are carried by the men two

or three miles over the ever changing and un- tent of an acre or more, rising up steep from certain ice. As the path over the glacier was the mass of ice, the only resting place on terra said to be in good order, we started off merrily, firma after leaving the Pierrè Pointere' and and soon reached the Junction, a spot, as its entering on the solitary region above. The name indicates, where two glaciers, flowing down cabin is about twenty-five feet long and half as Mt. Blanc by different valleys, meet, and pro. wide, and being divided in the middle by a parduce those immense fractures which form at the tition, gives two small rooms, the first of which same time the charm and the terror of ice ad- is used for a kitchen and sitting room for the venturers. Bearing in mind that these bodies guides, while the inner apartment contains three of ice are solid to the valley beneath, and not beds for the voyagers. The accommodations mere coverings for bodies of water, such as we though humble are rarely unacceptable. Faare used to, the effect of their meeting, when tigue and hunger make the beds soft and the impelled by such irresistible force and weight meals savory, and few palaces can boast of more as they possess, in opposite directions, may be refreshing slumbers and grateful dishes than at least faintly conjectured. It is hardly pos- those afforded in the simple cabin of the grand sible to imagine the fulness of its grandeur, or mulets. A thought which had not been entirely the terrible beauty presented to the eye. My absent from my mind during the ascent to this power of description is quite inadequate. We point, and as I gazed upon the vast and trackreached such a spot. It was necessary to cross less solitudes around and above, became more it. Selecting what appeared the most accessi- and more pressing, seemned now resolve to be a ble route, the leading guide advanced. A thin certainty, and the question, Can I and shall I but strong rope fastened round his body secured attempt the summit of Mount Blanc to-morrow, him to the gentleman next behind. The sime if the morning prove fine? was answered in the precaution was taken with us all, upon the the-affirmative. The weather seemed most favorory I suppose that there was less danger of the guide slipping than of the traveler, and some chance if the latter fell that the former would be able to hold him by the rope. Even the artist was willing to form a link of the chain, and was tied to the first guide.

able, the ice and snow were both in fine condition, and the urgent advice of my companions during the morning as to my ability, was such as to remove what doubt remained on the subject. It was therefore arranged that the best guide of the party, C――, with my guide, G——, should serve me for the ascent. About two o'clock the others of our party with the guides (including those just named who were to help them past the junction) started on their return. In about an hour a new arrival was added to our family

Our progress now became slow; every step was watched and care was taken to plant the foot in the hole left vacant in the snow by the party in front of you, or where the footing was icy, to secure a safe and firm rest for the baton, before taking a new step. As we were ascend-in the person of Mr. S., from Philadelphia, who ing the glacier, the opposite side of the crevas- with his two guides and a porter had got thus, ses were frequently higher than that on which far on their way to the summit: he had been we stood by several feet. In such cases, steps among the Swiss mountains for a month, rehad to be cut in the opposite face of ice, by covering from the effects of a sickness in early which we clambered up to the level above. summer, and thought himself quite able to Thus carefully working our way over these climb this mountain; he however already showed beautiful, but, at times, fearful fractures, we some signs of exhaustion, and events proved crossed the junction in safety and reached the that his will and determination were stronger smoother ice beyond. As this was covered than his physical powers. After eating a hearty with several inches of freshly fallen snow, the dinner, the guide in chief was told to provide, footing was secure, and enabled us soon to reach from the plentiful larder of our host, a lunch the foot of the last ascent to the Grand Mulets. for the morning, of bread, meat and wine; but Taking a zigzag course up this to avoid its when I suggested the propriety of taking a small steepest parts, and going round the large fissures quantity of water for my private table, his reply, which were occasionally met, we reached the "It will freeze and break the bottle," gave me a Mulets at 11 o'clock, and stood at an elevation foretaste of what we were to encounter. Our of 10,000 feet above the sea. A calmer sum- stores were increased by a few hard-boiled eggs, mer's day could not have been desired. Not and packed away in a knapsack to be carried by a cloud broke the universal blue of the sky. the second guide. We had a view this afternoon The same perfect quiet which was so impressive of the means of transportation used in these at the "Jardin" prevailed here equally. Ice, high regions: kegs of wine, baskets of food and snow and solitude reigned supreme; a trio of wood were coming to us from the valley below: beauty or grandeur, harmless in repose, but a train of animals carrying these heavy burdens fearful in the avalanche as it thundered down wound its way slowly across the vast fields of. the mountain side. The rocks on which the snow, and gradually drew near enough to show cabin at the grand mulets is built cover an ex-that the packs were fitted upon, and the bur

necessary to use great caution and to step in the places left vacant by our predecessor. The snow, recently fallen to a depth of several inches, was

dens carried by a most useful creature-the only one save birds who could safely scale these regions of ice-by man: it was wonderful how they could carry such loads anywhere, and mar-encrusted by ice, not hard enough to bear our vellous that their passage could be made among the crevasses and along ice ridges where we thought ourselves fortunate in crossing with the aid of a guide: but the unfailing baton seemed all that they required with their strong limbs, firm nerves and steady heads, to make mere sport out of an achievement dangerous to the inexperienced.

As they went down the mountain on their return, running and sliding on the snow as unconcerned and regardless of risk as though they had been chamois, their loud laughter and calls echoed round the mountain and died away in the distanee. The sun set clear, the night was cloudless, the lights in the valley far below glimmered like stars, the reflection upon the snow fields of the light of the sky, though there was no moon, diffused a subdued brightness around, and served to show the peaks which towered up in their cold grandeur. We were roused at half past two o'clock to take a cup of coffee and eat breakfast; then we made ready for our ascent. My wardrobe was small, and took little time to adjust: not expecting to go above the mulets, I had not provided myself with any superfluities, but with a well shod baton, and good shoes well nailed and covered with a pair of long leggings, I felt pretty well fitted to act my part: a pair of thick woolen mitts and a scarf to tie around my ears were the only additions I made, though frequent sugges tions were offered me to add other comforts to my stock of clothing. The guides took better care of themselves, using the thickest sort of woolen stockings, thick coats and pants, a woolen covering for the head which only exposed the face, and the chief guide even taking the precaution to cover the entire face with a piece of muslin in which holes had been cut for the eyes and mouth; his appearence was not in the least improved by this last article of dress, but it proved a very serviceable protection: a pair of colored glasses and a slouch hat tied down to the head completed his dress: I could Dot understand the use of so much preparation for a few hours' walk on the snow, on so fine a summer's morning. I was enlightened afterwards. Our rig having been completed, the rope was produced, and we were tied together, a guide in front and behind, and each of them being provided with a lantern to be used until daylight, we left the cabin. Mr. S., nerved for the exertion, but totally unfit for the attempt, came immediately behind tied in a similar way to his guides at half past three we started. It was at that hour too dark to see any distance, but had there been light enough there was not much opportunity to look around, as it was

weight, but sufficiently to hold the snow in its place and to give a good footing when the crust had been broken through. The wind had now risen so as to make it hard to keep our lanterns lighted; it came in sharp gusts, frequently extinguishing them, and at last making it quite impossible to use them to advantage; they were cachéd and left in their seclusion, while we wended our way upward as the gradually increasing light gave us more confidence and enabled us to follow our guides with greater secur. ity. Ere long a faint rosy tint crept over the highest peaks above us. The "aiguille du mide" on our left began to brighten, and shortly after the strong red of a peak upon our right shone upon the icy surface on which we were walking like the moon's beams on a smooth sea.

(To be continued.)

From the Flushing Journal.

DEATH OF AN OLD CITIZEN.

Thomas H. Leggett, Esq., an old resident of this village, and formerly an eminent merchant of New York, departed this life on Saturday morning last, in the 80th year of his age. His remains were borne to their last resting place, in the burying ground of the Society of Friends, in this village, on Tuesday last, attended by a large concourse of relatives and surviving friends.

Thus another of our town's old inhabitants has fallen from among us. Few who came in contact with Mr. Leggett's kindly nature could fail to be impressed by his genuine goodness of heart; children, those who worked for him, the poor, instantly called it forth, with a truthfulness of expression that was in its simplicity peculiarly his own.

Slow in forming his judgments of maturer and more complicated subjects, his conclusions were sure and correct. His long life terminating in long suffering, was patiently borne, and has endeared him to his family and friends. Its peaceful close may truly enable his children to "rise up and call him blessed."

Years may pass over our heads without affording an opportunity for acts of high beneficence, or extensive utility: whereas not a day passes, but in the common transactions of life, and cepecially in the intercourse of domestic society, gentleness finds place for promoting the happiness of others, and for strengthening in ourselves the habit of virtue. There are situatic DS not a few in life, when the encouraging reception, the courteous manner, and the look of sympathy, bring greater relief to the heart than the most bounteous gift.