in its character. The
subject was evidently familiar to his thoughts, and his voice had
always a tone of solemn resignation which told that he had conquered its
bitterness. He was ready at any moment to answer the call; and when, at
last, it was given and answered,--when the dawn of the first Christmas
holiday lighted his pale, moveless features, and the large heart
throbbed no more forever in its grand scorn and still grander
tenderness,--his released spirit could have chosen no fitter words of
farewell than the gentle benediction his own lips have breathed:--

"I lay the weary pen aside,
And wish you health and love and mirth,
As fits the solemn Christmas-tide.
As fits the holy Christmas birth,
Be this, good friends, our carol still,--
Be peace on earth, be peace on earth,
To men of gentle will!"

THE PENINSULAR CAMPAIGN.

It has been said that "the history of war is a magnificent lie," and
from what we know in our times, particularly of the history of the
Mexican War and of the present Rebellion, if the despatches from the
battle-fields are to be received as history, we are inclined to believe
the saying is true; and it is natural that it should be so. A general
writes his despatches under the highest mental excitement. His troops
have won a great victory, or sustained a crushing defeat; in either
event, his mind is riveted to the transactions that have led to the
result; in the one case, his ambition will prompt him to aspire to a
name in history; in the other, he will try to save himself from
disgrace. He describes his battles; he gives an account of his marches
and counter-marches, of the hardships he has endured, the
disappointments he has experienced, and the difficulties he has had to
overcome. The principal events may be truthfully narrated; but his hopes
of rising a hero from the field of victory, or of appearing a martyr
from one of defeat, will mould his narrative to his wishes.

If it be frequently the misfortune of our generals, in writing their
reports, not to content themselves with the materials at hand, but to
draw on their imaginations, not for gross falsehoods, but for that
coloring which, diffused through their despatches, makes the narrative
affecting, while it leaves us in doubt where to draw the line between
fiction and fact, it is not always so, particularly when their
despatches are not written amidst the excitement of the battle-field,
but a