ered in
his usual happy style. I was impressed with the idea all the time, that
he had too many buttons on his coat--he certainly had a great many
buttons--and the splendor of the double row possibly detracted somewhat
from the splendor of his remarks.

Mr. Reid is a small man, and has not sufficient voice to make himself
heard distinctly in so large a hall. In a parlor his recitations would
be capital. He read from his own poem, "The Wagoner," a description of
the battle of Brandywine. It is possibly a very good representation of
that battle; but, if so, the battle of Brandywine was very unlike that
of Stone river. At Brandywine, it appears, the generals slashed around
among the enemy's infantry with drawn swords, doing most of the hard
fighting and most of the killing themselves. I did not discover anything
of that kind at Stone river. It is possible the style went out of
fashion before the rebellion began. It would, however, be very
satisfactory to the rank and file to see it restored. Mr. Reid said some
good things in his lecture, and was well applauded; but, in the main, he
was too ethereal, vapory, and fanciful for the most of us leather-heads.
When he puts a soldier-boy on the top of a high mountain to sing
patriotic songs, and bid defiance to King George because "Eagle is
King," we are impressed with the idea that that soldier could have been
put to better use; that, in fact, he is entirely out of the line of
duty. The position assigned him is unnatural, and the modern soldier-boy
will be apt to conclude that nobody but a simpleton would be likely to
wander about in solitary places, extemporizing in measured sentences;
besides it is hard work, as I know from experience. I tried my hand at
it the other day until my head ached, and this is the best I could do:

O! Lord, when will this war end?
These days of marchings, nights of lonely guard?
This terrible expenditure of health and life?
Where is the glory? Where is the reward,
For sacrifice of comfort, quiet, peace?
For sacrifice of children, wife, and friends?
For sacrifice of firesides--genial homes?
What hour, what gift, will ever make amends
For broken health, for bruised flesh and bones,
For lives cut short by bullet, blade, disease?
Where balm to heal the widow's heart, or what
Shall soothe a mother's grief for woes like these?