played by the Orchestra, with thrilling effect, the audience applauding repeatedly. Upon the rising of the curtain, Mrs. Bowers, personating the Goddess of Liberty, stepped forward with a handsome silk flag in hand and repeated Drake's immortal address to the American flag. At almost every couplet she was interrupted with the wildest bursts of enthusiasm, and when she pronounced the closing stanza:

"Flag of the free hearts' hope and home,

By angel hands to valor given,
Thy stars have lit the welkin dome,

And all thy hues were born in Heaven!

For ever float that standard sheet;

Where breathes the foe but falls before us,
With freedom's soil beneath our feet

And freedom's banner streaming o'er us,"

the cheering was almost deafening. When she had concluded, the "Star Spangled Banner" was sung by the entire company, the solo being by Mrs. Charles Henri, Mrs. J. L. Barrett and Mr. J. L. Barrett. The "Peep O'Day," the great Irish sensation drama-a legitimate sensation -followed. As the period is the Rebellion of '98, many of the passages have an appropriate bearing on our own times, and Father O'Leary was loudly applauded when he expressed the hope that all the Confederates would imitate the example of the Peep O'Day boys, and lay down their arms.

THE SPIRIT OF 76 AND THE FIRST PRAYER IN CONGRESS.

As we stood in Independence Square yesterday, and listened to the echoing peals of the State-House bell, the following beautiful poemperhaps we might call it prophecy-from the pen of a well-known citizen, recurred to our mind, and, amid the new associations of the hallowed place seemed invested with new meaning and beauty. It was sent us for publication by Mrs. B. J. Leedom:

No self was there when the solemn prayer
Arose from the patriot band

Who stood in the night for God and the right
Of freedom throughout the land,

When the old bell toll'd on the summer air

The spirit of Justice heard the prayer.

Fervent yet low were the words that flew

From heart to heart that day,

And hand grasped hand as the patriot band
Prepared them for the fray,

And the old bell toll'd so loud and clear,

Our lives for our country we know no fear.

From mountain and dell, at the sound of that bell
Came the hardy children of toil;

From valley and glen sprang the sturdy old men
And the youth left the plough in the soil.
When the old bell rung, o'er the mountains afar
The children of peace became veterans in war.

Firm as a rock, they meet the shock

Of England's serried band,

And back from the coast they scattered the host

Of the foeman from out the land,

And the old bell rang through the summer trees,

As the "Star Spangled Banner" was flung to the breeze.

The tones that fell from that liberty bell

Shall sweep over land and sea,

Till the sceptre and crown shall tumble down,

And the nations all are free,

And the old bell spirit shall ring through the world

Till the banner of Christ be alone unfurled.

A PATRIOTIC COINCIDENCE.

EDWIN FORREST ON

GRANT AND HANCOCK.

While our people were in the midst of felicitations over their release from the horrors incidental to a successful invasion, I made a visit with my intimate companion of many a year, Edwin Forrest, to the Cathedral, on 18th Street, near Race, Philadelphia, both of us having been invited to the hospitalities of Archbishop Wood, by my old friend, Father McCo

nomy, of Lancaster, since deceased, and several members of the church. They gave us a hearty welcome. Forrest was never more delightful. He literally kept the table in a roar. His full mind seemed to run over with reminiscences of his altogether charming and eventful life. Like the rest of the company, he was in high glee over the success of General Hancock at Gettysburg, taking opportunity to speak of his admiration of the gallant soldier; for Forrest, while an ardent patriot, was also a very ardent Democrat, and he was proud because so much glory and honor had been achieved by his friend, General Hancock.

He repeated some of his finest recitations, among them that wonderful production, "The Idiot Boy," and seemed to be especially pleased at his capacity to make others pleased. One of the clerical gentlemen was so much carried away by the Idiot Boy, that he took down a copy of the poem itself. And not only to present it to the readers of this hurried history, do I give it here, but because it marks the particular coincidence which I often referred to in after days, and which dear Forrest loved to talk about:

"Old Sarah loved her helpless child,

Whom helplessness made dear; And he was everything to her,

Who knew no hope or fear.

"She knew his wants, she understood
Each half-articulate call,

For he was everything to her,
And she to him was all.

"And so for many a year they lived, Nor knew a wish beside;

But age at last on Sarah came,

And she fell sick-and died.

"He tried in vain to waken her,

He called her o'er and o'er;

They told him she was dead!

The words to him no import bore.

"They closed her eyes and shrouded her,
While he stood wondering by,
And when they bore her to the grave,
He followed silently.

"They laid her in the narrow house,

They sung the funeral stave;
And when the fun'ral train dispersed,
He lingered by that grave.

"The rabble boys that used to jeer

Whene'er they saw poor Ned,

Now stood and watched him by the grave, And not a word they said.

"They came and went and came again,

Till night at last came on;

Yet still he lingered by the grave,

Till every one had gone.

"And when he found himself alone,

He swift removed the clay;
Then raised the coffin up in haste,
And bore it swift away.

"He bore it to his mother's cot,
And laid it on the floor,
And with the eagerness of joy

He barred the cottage door.

"Then out he took his mother's corpse,
And placed it on a chair;

And soon he heaped the hearth,

And made the kindling fire with care.

"He had put his mother in her chair,
And in its wonted place,

And then he blew the fire, which shone,

Reflected in her face.

"And, pausing now, her hand would feel,
And then her face behold:
"Why, mother do you look so pale,
And why are you so cold?'

"It had pleased God from the poor wretch
His only friend to call;

Yet God was kind to him, and soon

In death restored him all."

After Forrest had delighted our little company, we said good-by to the agreeable hosts, and quietly walked in the dark over to Chestnut street, when he said to me, "What is the matter with the town, it seems to be unusually light? Is it a fire? Or is it a jubilee?" It was the 6th of July, 1863when he answered his own question-" Great