Lewisburg chronicle. [volume] (Lewisburg, Pa.) 1850-1859, 1854-04-21

younger, MS companion, aDo U "non' Do
principally addressed his conversation, was
a young man Of prepossessing appearance,
with clear bright eye, lofty forehead and
we'll knit form, land was altogether the per
sonifcation of genius and enterprise. The
don't care expression in his eye rendered
Lin still more interesting, as it showed bis
willingness and readiness to execute, what
be planned, at all hazards.
A warder dressed in the costume Of SOL
diers Of the days of Henry the Eighth soon
presented himself, and we we're conducted
through the armory, where there was an
abundance Of implements Of war, ancient
and modern, and great number Of efigies
on horseback, in suits of armor. A num-
ber of instruments Of torture, and also the
block and axe which were used at the de-
capitation Of three Scottish lords, were ex-
hibited. We visited the cell Of Sir Walter
Raleigh, ten feet long and eight wide, here
he is said to have written bis History of
the World. l read number of iuscrip-
tions upon the walls of the prison chambers,
made by those who we're incarcerated. The
Crown jewels, which are kept in the Tower
are splendid, and are estimated to be worth
$4,000, coo of dollars In and around St.
Peters Chapel rests the dust Of some of
Engiand's best and worst blood. In front
of the Chapel is the world-rcnowned place
of execution, Tower Green. 1t was but a
step from the block to the grave. The old
walls of ST. Peters still stand, but inside
it has been modernized. l wished very
much to enter the vaults but the man who
kept the keys was not at home. We we're
taken through the White Tower, up the
staircase, where Richard Ill is said to have
buried the murdered Princes, the St.
j Johns Chapel, the council room where the
kings held their court at the Tower, and
where Richard III ordered Lord Hastings
to instant execution in trout of St. Peter
Chapel, and up to the roof. After leaving
the arm ory, our party had dwindled into
| five persons, two besides ourselves-the two
before mentioned. The elder bal made
Neutrality-suspicious. through the whole tour
! With the air of an instructor he compared,
admired, and critised. lie spoke Of every
thing. as if he had seen it a hundred times,
=. ---------
room, that l aseertained that he and his
companions were my countrymen making
the tour Of England. l met them again
in the Tunnel, bid them good bye, and the
mex, day hurried on to Dover.
/ At Dover | visited the Castle. On its
turrets there is an extensive and beautiful
view, being elevated almost perpendicular
five hundred feet above the level of the sea,
that laves the base of the cliff on which
it stands. Within the keep is the famous
we'll 400 feet deep, which Harold was ob!i-
ged to surrender TO the Duke of Normandy.
The fouqdations of this Castle date back
to the time of Caesar. To the south of the
Castle is the cliff Of Shakespeare memory,
which he describes in his tragedy Of king
Lear in the lines commencing
"Thcrc is clir. Whose high ard bending lead
LOOKS frsrfuliy on the eonfnei dep"
The next day we crossed to Calais, went
on to Ghent Brussels, remained there over
Sunday, and there took our seats for Col
cgne. My hotel at Cologne was upon the
Rhine-the river of poetry, romance and
song. As looked at it from my window,
| thought in one respect it resembled my
native land. They both are grand illus
trations Of the progressive power. The
little riyulet that takes its rise among eter-
nal snow and mountain solitudes that the
reckless chamois hunter could dam up with
one tramp of his foot, winding its way
adown the ice clad Alpine peak i: flows on
a great food between vine-clad hills and
cas,ilion crags, until swollen by twelve
thousand tributaries it pours its waters into
the ocean
single dror upon tire lea,
Ills the rus low gush,
rTis the rivers rush
And bark the mighty sea!
If there is fairy spot in the world, to lie
pointed out by man it is somewhere upon
the Rhine. Here the last remains of an
almost extinct spiritual race still hold their
miduigh. revels. The siren Lorelie still
sits on her rocky precipice, but her songs
no longer allure the careless mariner, and
as the steamboat goes putting along she
shrinks aghast, forgcts to sing her low sweet
melody. Roland still frowns from his lofty
cmiuence and ruined Castle, cursing the
tourists. The two brothers still shout their
bold defiance and the Bishops vail is heard
upon the midnight blast, as in his solitary
Tower, lie in vain attempts to Hing from
him, the myriads of vermin that make
dainty meal Of his wasted form. The Nuns
white hand yet waves over the Lake OF
Liebenstern. and Charlemagne blesses the
vines of Rudcsheim. But these giants and
l,-e ,uH lcsl and al