This also is the praise of Washington, that never in the tide of time has any man lived who had in so great a degree the almost divine faculty to command the confidence of his fellow-men and rule the willing. Whereever he became known, in his family, his neighborhood, his county, his native state, the continent, the camp, civil life, the United States, among the common people, in foreign courts, throughout the civilized world of the human race, and even among the savages, he, beyond all other men, had the confidence of his kind. NATIONAL HYMN. SAMUEL FRANCIS SMITH. SAMUEL FRANCIS SMITH was born in Boston in 1808, and died in 1895. He attended the Boston Latin School, was graduated at Harvard College, and then studied for the ministry at the Andover Theological Seminary. While in Harvard he was a classmate of Oliver Wendell Holmes. At a reunion of his class, held many years after they had left college, Holmes read a poem which he had written for the occasion, called “The Boys,” and spoke of Mr. Smith in these words: “He chanted a song for the brave and the free, Just read on his medal, ‘My Country, of thee.’” He referred to the poem beginning “My country, ’tis of thee,” the national hymn of America, written by Mr. Smith when he was a young theological student, and first sung at a children’s celebration, held on one Fourth of July, in the Park Street Church, Boston. A collection of his hymns and poems has been published under the title of “Lyric Gems.” MY country, ’tis of thee, Sweet land of liberty, Of thee I sing; Land where my fathers died, Land of the pilgrim’s pride, From every mountain side Let freedom ring. My native country, thee-- Land of the noble free-- Thy name I love; I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills, My heart with rapture thrills Like that above. Let music swell the breeze, And ring from all the trees Sweet freedom’s song; Let mortal tongues awake; Let all that breathe partake; Let rocks their silence break-- The sound prolong. Our fathers’ God, to thee, Author of liberty, To thee we sing: Long may our land be bright With freedom’s holy light; Protect us by thy might, Great God, our King. THE LARK IN THE GOLD-FIELDS. CHARLES READE. CHARLES READE, the youngest of eleven children of John Reade, an English country squire, was horn in Ipsden in =1814=. His father and mother loved him dearly, but found it convenient, after the custom of the time, to intrust his early instruction and care to tutors and masters of boarding schools. Thus the memory of frequent floggings survived in the boy’s mind, as marking the thorny road of his first school days.