Morning journal and courier., 1883-11-17
BY HENRY HOWE.

[Copyrighted 1883 by Henry Howe.l
 TIN TWENTY FIVE CHAPTERs-CHAPTER XIII. The Elm in Winter-A Funerenl Rerni-
 Dfscence-nustc of the Films a Stor-
 nay Winters EiGht-Dsscrfption OT a
 Gorgeous Spectacle up the ArchWGy of
 Temple Street.
 Most trees are for the summer only, but the elm is for the entire year, and it comes through it's general form and the immense number, size and characteristics of it's limbs. What can be more impressive than view up the arch of Temple street on 8 winters day when these giant sentinels that line its sides stand erect and silent with their hosts of black grim branches sweeping over and in termingling in nyriads of fantastic and gro tesque shapes? If it be 8 day of gloom and mist hangs over everything, how sad the view through that long vaulted arohway, aad how in keeping with the funeral cortege that of- ten is seen passing slowly under it when the multitudes of dropping limbs seem as na- ture's drapery for the dead, st times gather ing mist and dropping tears. Such was the scene on December day, 1881, the day of the burial of Leonard Bacon, for fifty years pastor of the Center church, while to en- nance the impressive effect the bell of the city tower for the only time in our history tolled it's deep. heavy note in memory of one not a public officer. And it was well, for he who had passed away had done more than any man who had lived in making clear to the popular apprehension and in perpetua- ting to the knowledge of the coming genera
 tions the simple domestic virtues of our fath- CTS, the religious and political principles which have given to New England her glory and her crown
 Iax7 Svnr, hn rTfQ mt elms on a wintry night when the tempest blasts sweep through their enormous spread of branches. The roar affects one as the roar of the ocean, only there is greater va riety of sound, a swelling and dying away of the notes as the myriads of long black elastic limbs arc seized as by almighty power and whirled to and fro with an indescribable majesty of motion and sublimity of sound, while from far behind the wild, storm driven clouds fit in and out the sparkling lights of far away worlds
 One of the most gorgeous spectaeles that God vouchsafes to man Is the view in the dead of winter when the earth Is olad in snow and the sun of morning strikes this archway of Temple street et a time when every branch, branchlet and twig are bending un- der the weight of myriads of icicles. Only once, twice or thrice in the lifetime even of our oldest citizens is this scene presented in it's full cuImination of grandeur. Many, in- 1 lofty celestial aisle of pendant diamonds. These hang clustering upon the towering trees, nature's giant misunderstanding In millions and sparkling in unspeakable glory.
 It is too beautiful to last and feeting as beautiful Usually formed in single night by raiu upon snow-laden branches, arrested and frozen while in 8 dripping state by 8 sudden fall in the temperature, it soon van ishes The king of day, ever at war with cold, on arriving from his sublime circuit upon the gay, exquisite frost work just long enough to disclose to the enraptured vision the wondrous spectacle of dazzling magnii- cence and supernRl glory. Then ascending higher and higher he begins his silent battle. shooting down his melting beams with in- creasing power upon the icy hosts. Then weeping and smiling through their tears they gradually waste away and finally vanishing are seen no more Myriads of icicles have Ioosened their hold. First, those upon the most lofty branches, which, falling, dash in pieces like pendants of glass upon the branches beneath, or escaping these have buried themselves in the now softened snow. Those remaining have gradually dissolved, expiring in tears. In a brief space all under the archway the snow Is marked with myri- ads of graves of the buried icicles, and its surface is darkly spotted where tho tears had fallen from those which had remained until they had wept their lives away. High noon arrives. The battle is ended The sun is sIoft bright and smiling and he looks down in triumph upon the field of his victory and there hang blackened branches, wet and dis nal, where had been arrayed the glittering hosts of the morning. And the snow-cov- cred earth beneath is but one vast cemete- ", graves and tears. Night again falls and