MODERATION. 
Hjiogntpljkal. 
GEN. ALBRECHT YON ROON. 
Gen. Yon Roon is, after Von Moltre and 
Blumenthal, the best strategist in the. Prus¬ 
sian army. lie is Prussian War Minister, 
and has just received the Imperial congratu¬ 
lations upon ins attaining his jubilee of mili¬ 
tary service. lie was born April 30,1803, 
and was entered as a pupil in the Ecole. des 
Cadets at Berliu. During his pupilage oc¬ 
curred the invasion aud subjection of Prussia 
by Napoleon I., and when he entered the 
army in 1821 the work of deliverance had 
already been done, and long years of peace 
were to follow for the Prussian army. Von 
Roon, however, was not idle, but devoted 
himself to the study of his profession; and, 
having followed the course of the General 
Military School, he was employed as Instruc¬ 
tor of Cadets. In 1832 he was with the Army 
of Observation during the siege of Ant werp, 
and was afterwards placed on the staff with 
the rank of captain. Rising step by step he 
obtained the grade of lieutenant-general in 
1859, having in the meantime been entrusted 
with various missions of more or less impor¬ 
tance. 
On the 16th April, 1801, lie was made 
Minister of Marine, and the 5Lh December 
of the same year Minister of War, and it was 
in this capacity that he did so much which 
has siucc borne fruit in the Austrian and 
French campaigns. During the long strug¬ 
gle with the Chambers he ami Bismarck 
held doggedly to their object of reorganizing 
the Prussian military service, constitutional¬ 
ly if they could, in spite of the Constitution 
if necessary. They won their point, over¬ 
riding their adversaries in a manner which, 
had they been unsuccessful, would have 
been called by hard names, but when the 
campaign of Sadowa showed the ultimate 
aim of their policy, grumbling was ex¬ 
changed for congratulation, ami the sore¬ 
ness felt by the Liberals was allayed for 
some time. In apportioning the credit for 
this policy between the Minister and the 
General, the latter must be awarded the 
merit of carrying out successfully the or¬ 
ganization of the military scheme, whilst to 
the former, the “ man of blood and iron,” re¬ 
mains the merit of overcoming the great 
popular opposition. To whom the concep¬ 
tion of the scheme was due it is difficult to 
say. 
Gen. von Roon, besides these practical 
proofs of his ability, has shown great merit 
as a theorist. He is the author of several 
military works which are held in high es¬ 
teem, particularly those upon military ge¬ 
ography, and as a military instructor ob¬ 
tained a wide reputation, llis most cele¬ 
brated pupil was Prince Fred’k Charles, 
perhaps the most energetic and dashing gen- 1 
eral in the Prussian service, and a pupil such 
as Von Roon, in his old age, must be proud of. 
Von Roon, like his brother generals, may 
be taken as an illustration of Mr. Carlyle’s 
remark that the Germans are deliberate in 
'working out an idea, but having once worked 
it out, are quick in application. They have 
had no field for the active training of their 
armies—no Algeria, or India, or discontent¬ 
ed provinces like Hungary or Venelia; they 
have had to theorize, and plan, and study, 
until they thought they were perfect, and 
then, Hie time for action having come, they 
have been able to show how promptly aud 
successfully they can put their theories into 
practice, and their long years of study have 
borne fruit in Sadowa and Sedan. 
ALICE GARY. 
This sweet-voiced poetesss died at her 
home in New York, Sunday morning, Feb. 
12, aged fifty years. She was one of the 
loved ot American women and singers, aud 
her sweet poems are known and read where- 
ever American literature is read. We re¬ 
member, a score of years ago, of reading in 
the Ohio papers the first sprightly fancies of 
her and her sister Phebe’s girlhood. The 
two were a farmer’s daughters, aud lived a 
few miles from Cincinnati. The family 
claims kindred with Sir Robert Cary, a 
stout Euglish knight, who, iu the reign of 
Henry V., vanquished, after a long and 
bloody struggle, a haughty chevalier of Ar- 
ragon, who challenged any Englishman of 
gentle blood to a passage at arms. From 
M alter Cary, a French Huguenot, the de¬ 
scent of the Gary’s is unquestioned. 
The younger Walter emigrated to Ameri¬ 
ca, and settled at Bridgewater, Mass. Wal¬ 
ter was duly blessed with seven sons, 
whereof John settled in Windham, Conn., 
and of his five sons the youngest, Samuel, 
was great grandfather to the Alice and 
Phebe Cary of our day. Samuel, educated 
at Yale, becoming a physician, settled and 
Practiced at Lyme, where was born in 1763 
his son Christopher, who at eighteen 
} ears of age entered the armies of the revo- 
lulion. Peace was soon achieved, when, in 
default ot cash, the young soldier received a 
and grant or warrant, aud located these 
with a homestead in Hamilton Co., Ohio, 
whereon was born his son Robert, who iu 
due time married the wife who bore him a 
son, who died young, as did one daughter. 
Two more daughters have since passed away, 
and three remained, of whom Alice was one. 
Alice Cary was bom in 1820, and was 
Her success as a writer has been less the re¬ 
sult of inspiration and what some people call 
genius, aud more of bard work. 
■-♦-*-♦- 
ALICE CARTS FUNERAL 
Notwithstanding the severe snowstorm 
speak for hours, he could only tell how he 
loved her, and quite fail to tell what manner 
of woman she was,—how gentle, how ten¬ 
der, how rich and deep in faith ; how good 
and true she was. 
After the pastor finished, the choir sang 
one of Pheue Cary’s hymns:—“ What 
m 
mm* : ' 
HWi 
/■ .V 
TO ' 
mmmfi 
"VOUNT ROON, PRUSSIAN TVLIJNTISTEiR, OIF WAR 
early called to mourn the loss of her mother, 
of whom she has written“ My mother was 
of English descent—a woman of superior in¬ 
tellect, and of a good, well-ordered life. In 
my memory, she stands apart from all others 
—wiser, purer, doing more, and living better 
than any other woman.” Phebe was born 
in 1825; and there were two younger sisters, 
of whom cue died iu youth, greatly beloved 
and lamented. The youngest of the family, 
named Elmina, was a woman of signal heart, 
of mind and person, whose poetic, as well as 
her general capacities, were of great promise*, 
but she married, while yet young, Mr. Swift, 
a Cincinnati merchant, and thenceforward, 
absorbed in other cares, gave little attention 
to literature. She was early marked for its 
victim by consumption, and yielded up her 
life while still in the bloom of early woman¬ 
hood, several years since. Her marriage, and 
the consequent loss of her society, had a share 
in determining the elder sisters to remove to 
New York, which they did in 1850. 
In New York, the sisters have beeu the 
center of a large circle of notable, loving, 
literary friends. Sunday evenings a tea ta¬ 
ble av as spread for these friends, and these 
re-unions in the presence of the sisters, have 
long been known among the literati , and ap¬ 
preciated by those who had their entre. 
In 1850 a joint volume of the poems of 
the sisters Avas published in Philadelphia; 
the next year Alice’s” Clovernook Papers” 
(first series) were published, and won de¬ 
cided popularity. In 1853 the second series 
were equally successful. In 1854 " The 
Clovernook Children” was issued. “Lvra 
aud Other Poems,” by Alice, were pub¬ 
lished by Redfield in 1853, and reprinted 
Avith other poems, including “ The Maiden 
of Tlascala,” by Ticknok Fields in 1855. 
“Hagar; a Story of To-Day“Married 
not Mated;” “ The Bishop’s Son,” are stories 
by Alice avcII known to the literary world. 
Her “ Pictures of Country Life ” published 
in 1859, Avon high praise from even English 
critics. “ Lyrics and Hymns,” “ The Lover’s 
Diary,” “ SnoAvberries,” and other publica¬ 
tions from Alice’s pen, have appeared from 
time to time, embodying many of the good 
things published in the different papers to 
which she contributed. 
Alice Cary has Avritten much and well; 
but never rapidly nor recklessly, but with 
conscientious eare, and painstaking effort. 
which prevailed during the entire day, very 
many people gathered in the “ Church of the 
Strangers” on the day of the funeral, and 
burial of the sweet singer— Alice Cary. 
The services began soon after one o’clock, by 
the entrance of the pastor, Dr. Deems, reci¬ 
ting the initial part of the Episcopal Burial 
Service, “ I am the resurrection and the life,” 
etc, FolloAving him Avere the pall bearers, 
Horace Greeley, Bayard Taylor, Oli- 
ver Johnson, Frank B. Carpenter, (the 
artist who painted the very fine portrait of 
Miss Cary Which was exhibited iu the Acad¬ 
emy last year,) P. T. B vrnum,- Dr. Hol¬ 
combe, A. J. JonNSON and Richard B. 
Kimball. The choir sang an anthem, “Vi¬ 
tal spark of Heavenly Flame," Dr. Deems 
read a selection from the loth chapter of 1st 
Corinthians, and supplemented it AvllU a few 
remarks, largely pertaining to his own rela¬ 
tions to deceased as her friend aud pastor,— 
including some very interesting revelations 
in regard to her private life,AVhieh were most 
acceptable to her numerous friends who had 
never the pleasure and privilege of her per¬ 
sonal acquaintance. 
That Miss Cary avhs a great sufferer was 
sadly true; yet but little of the pain and 
agony she endured flavored Avhat she wrote. 
She Avas very painstaking, and sent nothing 
to press but Avhat Avas carefully and con¬ 
scientiously fiuished. Dr. Deems held up 
her last manuscript, written less than a week 
before she died — a very small sheet of note 
paper, written so clearly and legibly as to be 
read with the ease of print. When she 
found herself unable to Avrite as much as 
formerly, she busied herself in improving 
her handwriting, which had previously been 
rather faulty. She also interested herself iu 
charitable work, and was always keenly 
alive to the sufferings of others. A few days 
before her death she begau to make a cap 
for a friend, but her strength failed her, and 
the gift for the old woman was left unfin¬ 
ished. The pastor read one of her poems, 
Avhich seemed like a prophesy of the manner 
in which she passed away : 
“ My soul is full of whispered sounds, 
My blindness is roy sight; 
The shadows that I feared so long 
Are ali alive with light.” 
She had often wished that she might die 
in her sleep. Several hours before her death 
she fell into a deep slumber, from Avhich she 
never awoke. Dr. Deems said if he should 
sweetly solemu thought,” when the oppor¬ 
tunity was given for looking upon the face 
of the dead poet. The casket was of rose¬ 
wood, Avith a silver plate on Avhich Avas in¬ 
scribed “ Alice Cary, A. D., 1820—A. 
D., 1871.” On the top of the coffin lay three 
wreaths formed of white camellias and rose 
buds. The face looked emaciated, and bore 
traces of suffering in expression ; but, av fili¬ 
al, looked so quiet and peaceful that the 
memory of it. is a pleasant one. The breast 
of the sleeper Avas covered with flowers, and 
snow Avhite lilies, camellias and roses were 
nestled all about her. 
The entire church service consumed 
scarcely more than forty-five minutes. The 
body was taken to Greenwood for burial. 
The congregation included a largo number 
Ot the prominent authors and journalists in 
the city. “Sorosis” was avcII represented 
by a delegation of leading members, and 
every person present was a mourner. 
It Avas not that Alice Cary was a great 
woman, only as the “good alone are great,” 
that so endeared her to the world; but 
rather the exceeding beauty of her life, her 
simplicity and truthfulness. Her name 
ahvays suggested something fine and sweet, 
tender and Avomanly. Her poems touched 
the hearts of the refined as Avell as the coarse 
and uncultivated. A friend of mine, au 
editor of a religious paper, gave out to the 
printers, on the day of her burial, a clipping 
from one of her articles. The typo to whom 
it was given, a rough, profane young fellow, 
aud AVhO had not heard of her death, re¬ 
marked, in a subdued, thoughtful manner, to 
a co-worker; — “I like Alice Cary. I 
mean to get one of her books. Dou’l you 
think I can fiud one at Van Ostuand’s ?” 
My friend overhearing the remark, told him 
Alice Cary was dead. A painful expres¬ 
sion passed over his face, and his eyes filled 
with tears as he said, “ I’m sorry,”—an ex¬ 
pression Avhich thousands, with hearts far 
less hardened, Avill echo Avheu they read that 
the dear woman, so in sympathy with all 
the sweet and beautiful things in nature, has 
ceased for them her singing 
Mary A. E. Wager. 
Dina Mariah Moloch is said to ha 1 
written more than 1,000 poems she has nev 
printed, as they failed on due consideratic 
to please her fastidious taste. 
Bit moderate In all things, 
Excessive in none, 
In great things ami smalt things 
Thu king on his throne. 
The soliiier, the peasant. 
May learn In a word 
To i nod era to Iho scoplor, 
Thu spade and tlu> sword. 
Bo moderate in eating, 
Nor sit at the board 
Llko n miser bent over 
Iiis long gathered hoard. 
Bo nunleriito in drinking. 
Nof drain deep I lie bowl. 
For Death’s at the bottom, 
In wait for your soul. 
Be moderate In thinking; 
The bow too long bent 
Hus never tlie shaft 
To i ho mark with force sent. 
Be moderate in friendship. 
To all hot a few, 
Anil those to your bosom 
Clasp trusting and truo; 
If Poverty stands at 
The door, you may test 
By the touch of ills cold hand 
Your bravest aud best. 
Bo moderate in iovo 
Wiille you are ardent and young ; 
But if your heart’s tlamo 
Finds a vet it through the tongue, 
Let it bn like an unsheathed 
Patriot's sword. 
Ever ready to net 
In accord with your word. 
Be moderate in consurc. 
Nor deem it unwise 
To shut on t he faults 
Of another your eyes; 
For if through a glass 
Llis shortcomings you view. 
Ho nmy look upon yours 
With a microscope, too. 
l!e moderate In getting. 
For Over-much wealth 
Insures not contentment, 
Nnr pleasure, nor health; 
But, blost with sufficient. 
Give some to the poor— 
Enough, H you just 
Keep the wolf from the door. 
ry~> 
lories for |inritlisls. 
AMONG THE WITCHES, 
BY MINTAVOOD. 
Anaximander !” 
“ Yes, in a minute." 11c look a final suck 
at his hateful cigar, anti laying clown Iiis eye¬ 
glasses, lie turned Iiis hard blue-gray eyes 
upon mo Avith a “Well?" Foreigners say 
Ave begin everything with a " well." 
“ What do you think I am going to do? 
’Tis neither respectable nor orthodox ; now 
give a guess.” 
He looked me over much as if I were a 
horse offered for sale. 
“ Wear a chignon ?” 
“ Not so had as that.” 
“ Have your ears butchered ?” 
“ No, nor my tongue cut out, if I can help 
it," and I showed him tile head of my re¬ 
volver—the very one that kept the Indians 
from my scalp when out on the plains. 
“ nave a lump raised op your back, like a 
Broadway camcl-ess?” 
“ No, Indeed. Those arc all very respecta¬ 
ble and orthodox, you knoAV ! You must 
guess something bad as smoking a cigar, 
getting half drunk, going to a circus or voting 
for Woman Suffrage.” 
“ Oh, T. give it up,” lie replied, Avitli utter 
despondency. “ I can think of nothing so 
bad as that latter,” and a coating of mock 
despair spread itself over Ids face. ” Come, 
young woman, confess !” and lie housed his 
hands in his trousers pockets as if the secret 
lay In their depths. 
“ Why, I am going to have—the Empress 
Josephine had licr’s, and so did Napoleon, 
and Eugenie, and Talma, and Madame De 
Stakl, and Horace Veknet, and a great 
many other famous people—I’m going to 
have my; fortune told! There! I’m glad it’s 
out.” 
“Oh, that’s-it, is it,” laughing heartily. 
“Why, that isn’t so dreadful; I went once 
to an old witch myself.” 
It avhs my turn to laugh. “ Just as though 
that fact makes the going respectable 1 I 
think worse of it now than ever. But Avhat 
did she tell you ? Have any of her predic¬ 
tions come true ?” 
“ Yes, one; she said by the time I Avas 
thirty-five years old, an Old friend of mine 
would die, leaving an orphan girl to my 
guardianship; that she would give me a 
great deal of comfort and a great deal of 
trouble, and, finally, be the doatli of me. 1 
don’t know as she was so positive about my 
death; hut I conclude if she had known as 
much about it as I now do, she would have 
said so.” 
ITis eyes were briinfull of solemn mischief 
as he turned them in my direction. I felt 
deeply convicted. 
“ 1 am like Aurora Leigh— born to give 
my father trouble—if you were only my 
father. You have been like one, at all 
events.” 
The door opened at this juncture. 
“Here comes your ‘crony,’” sang out 
Anaximander, in his business voice. He 
has two voices; one for women and another 
for business and men. 
My “ crony ” was a blithe little lady Doc- 
