should answer only with a blow. I care not how high his station, how low his character, how contemptible his speech; whether a privy councilor or a parasite, my answer would be a blow. He has charged me with being connected with the rebels. The charge is utterly, totally, and meanly false! Does the honorable gentleman rely on the report of the House of Lords for the foundation of his assertion? If he does, I can prove to the committee there was a physical impossibility of that report being true. But I scorn to answer any man for my conduct, whether he be a political coxcomb, or whether he brought himself into power by a false glare of courage or not.

I have returned, not, as the honorable member has said, to raise another storm, - I have returned to discharge an honorable debt of gratitude to my country, that conferred a great reward for past services, which, I am proud to say, was not greater than my desert. I have returned to protect that Constitution, of which I was a parent and founder, from the assassination of such men as the honorable gentleman and his unworthy associates. They are corrupt - they are seditious,and they, at this very moment, are in a conspiracy against their country! I have returned to refute a libel, as false as it is malicious, given to the public under the appellation of a report of the committee of the Lords. Here I stand for impeachment or trial! I dare accusation! I defy the honorable gentleman! I defy the Government! I defy their whole phalanx! - let them come forth! I tell the ministers I shall neither give quarter nor take it!

(GRATTAN: Reply to Corry)

SCROOGE IN A JOYFUL MOOD

" I don't know what to do!" cried Scrooge, laughing and crying in the same breath; and making a perfect Laocoon of himself and his stockings. "I am as light as a feather, I am as happy as an angel, I am as merry as a school-boy. I am as giddy as a drunken man. A Merry Christmas to everybody! A happy New Year to all the world! Hallo there! Whoop! Hallo!"

He had frisked into the sitting-room, and was now standing there; perfectly winded.

"There's the saucepan that the gruel was in!" cried Scrooge, starting off again, and going round the fireplace. There's the door by which the ghost of Jacob Marley entered! There's the corner where the Ghost of Christmas Present sat! There's the window where I saw the wandering spirits! It's all right, it's all true, it all happened! Ha, ha, ha!"

Really, for a man who has been out of practice for so many years, it was a splendid laugh, a most illustrious laugh. The father of a long, long line of laughs!

"I don't know what day of the month it is," said Scrooge. "I don't know how long I have been among the spirits. I don't know anything. I'm quite a baby. Never mind. I don't care. I'd rather be a baby. Hallo! Whoop! Hallo there!"

He was checked in his transports by the churches ringing out the lustiest peals he had ever heard. Clash, clang, hammer; ding, dong, bell. Bell, dong, ding, hammer, clang, clash! Oh, glorious, glorious!

Running to the window, he opened it, and put out his head. No fog, no mist; clear, bright, jovial, stirring, cold; cold, piping for the blood to dance to; Golden sunlight; Heavenly sky; sweet fresh air; merry bells. Oh, glorious! Glorious!

"What's to-day?" cried Scrooge, calling downward to a boy in Sunday clothes, who perhaps had loitered in to look about him.

"Eh?" returned the boy with all his might of wonder. "What's to-day, my fine fellow?" said Scrooge. "To-day!" replied the boy. “Why, CHRISTMAS DAY."

(DICKENS: A Christmas Carol)

PREPARING FOR FEZZIWIG'S PARTY

"Yo ho, my boys!" said Fezziwig. "No more work to-night. Christmas Eve, Dick. Christmas, Ebenezer! Let's have the shutters up," cried old Fezziwig, with a sharp clap of his hands, "before a man can say Jack Robinson!"

You wouldn't believe how those two fellows went at it! They charged into the street with the shutters - one, two, three - had 'em up in their places - four, five, six

barred 'em and pinned 'em - seven, eight, nine and came back before you could have got to twelve, panting like race-horses.

"Hilli-ho!" cried old Fezziwig, skipping down from the high desk with wonderful agility. "Clear away, my lads, and let's have lots of room here! Hilli-ho, Dick! Chirrup, Ebenezer!"

Clear away! There was nothing they wouldn't have cleared away, or couldn't have cleared away, with old Fezziwig looking on. It was done in a minute. Every movable was packed off; as if it were dismissed from public life for evermore; the floor was swept and watered, the lamps were trimmed, fuel was heaped upon the fire;

and the warehouse was as snug, and warm, and bright a ball-room, as you would desire to see upon a winter's night.

(DICKENS: A Christmas Carol)

MARMION'S DEFIANCE

But Douglas round him drew his cloak,
Folded his arms, and thus he spoke:
"My manors, halls, and bowers, shall still
Be open, at my sovereign's will,
To each one whom he lists, howe'er
Unmeet to be the owner's peer.
My castles are my king's alone,
From turret to foundation-stone-
The hand of Douglas is his own;
And never shall in friendly grasp
The hand of such as Marmion clasp."

Burn'd Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire,
And shook his very frame for ire,
And -"This to me!" he said,-
"And 'twere not for thy hoary beard,
Such hand as Marmion's had not spared
To cleave the Douglas' head!
And, first, I tell thee, haughty peer,
He, who does England's message here,
Although the meanest in her state,
May well, proud Angus, be thy mate;
And, Douglas, more I tell thee here,
Even in thy pitch of pride,
Here in thy hold, thy vassals near,
(Nay, never look upon your lord,
And lay your hands upon your sword),

I tell thee, thou'rt defied!
And if thou said'st I am not peer
To any lord in Scotland here,
Lowland or Highland, far or near,
Lord Angus, thou hast lied!"
On the Earl's cheek the flush of rage

O'ercame the ashen hue of age;

Fierce he broke forth,-" And darest thou, then,

To beard the lion in his den,

The Douglas in his hall?

And hopest thou hence unscathed to go?

No, by Saint Bride of Bothwell, no!

Up drawbridge, grooms - what, warder, ho!
Let the portcullis fall."

Lord Marmion turned, well was his need,
And dashed the rowels in his steed,
Like arrow through the archway sprung,
The ponderous grate behind him rung;
To pass there was such scanty room,
The bars, descending, razed his plume.

(Scott: Marmion)

A TIRADE AGAINST ART

"All art, so-called, is decay," he said, raising his voice. "When a race begins to brood on the beautiful, - so-called, it is a sign of rot, of getting ready to fall from the tree. Take the Jews, those marvelous old fellows, who were never more than a handful, yet have imposed the rule of their ideas and their gods upon us for fifteen hundred years. Why? They were forbidden by their most fundamental law to make sculptures or pictures. That was at a time when the Egyptians, when the Assyrians, and other Semites, were running to