passage cut by the torrent through the barrier. So deep and narrow is the chasm this spot, that the stream, except upon its very banks, is invisible, and the obelisk seemed to rise on American ground. It was truly as much a monument to American bravery as to British merit; and from its great height, a bird's eye view was gained from its top of the Niagara strait from the falls to lake Ontario. The foolish act of its destruction is rightly compared by the editor of the Buffalo paper with the deeds of the ancient barbarian hordes of Goths and Vandals in the destruction of the works of art of Greece and Rome, about fifteen centuries ago.

DESTRUCTION OF BROCK'S MONUMENT.

Every tourist will remember Brock's monument, which crowns the heights of Queenston, and adds so much to the picturesque beauty of the landscape. On the morning of the 22d April, 1840, at about 4 o'clock, the inhabitants of Lewiston and Queenston were aroused by a report like that of the heaviest artillery.

On looking out, a column of smoke was seen slowly ascending from the tall monument, and, as it drifted away, the obelisk-like tower was discovered to be rent and shattered from turret to foundation stone. What possible motive could have induced this worse than Vandal outrage, we are at a loss to imagine. No man was more universally respected on both sides the line than Gen. Sir Isaac Brock. Brave, courteous and humane to a degree that reminded us of a preux chevalier of former times, he commanded the esteem of his country's enemies, even in time of war; and had his life been spared, and he continued in command, the escutcheon of England would not now be stained by the ruthless atrocities, perpetrated by her forces, and savage allies, in the campaigns of '13 and 14, under Proctor, and so signally rebuked by General Harrison. Nought but the most wanton and fiendish malignity could have prompted any one thus sacrilegiously to disturb the repose of the gallant and honoured dead. BUFFALO COM. ADVER.

SPLASH AND FLASH.

A SPLASH and a flash

Are not the same thing, To learn it, my Herbert

Attention must bring; We speak of a flash

Of lightning or fire,

We speak of a splash

Of water or mire.

A flash is quite sudden,

And burning, and bright;

A splash makes you dirty, Or drenches you quite.

The boy that should try them,
With pain and with shame,
Would speedily find that
They are not the same.
If Herbert will spell them,
His ear it will strike,
That flashes and splashes
Are not quite alike.

SIR,

To the Editor of Parley's Magazine. YOUR little readers have perhaps heard of the non-descript monster, called the Sea-Serpent, who for years past was supposed to have a local habitation near Nahant, during his summer excursions in search of mackerel. A newspaper called the New-York American, on the arrival of the Great Western, thus mentions him; and, as there is doubtless as much truth in the account as there is in any thing else that has been written on this snake subject, I request you to give it a place in your magazine, for preservation, as well as for the amusement if not strictly correct historical information of your juvenile readers.

A YOUNG PASSENGER.

Mr. Editor,-On the first voyage of the Great Western, during the present season, a daily journal was published on board, entitled "The Great Western Eccentri"-from the columns of which, with a few alterations, I transcribe the following communication. Its date is March 5, 1840. THE SEA-SERPENT CHASE.

THE morning was fine-the sky was clear-
The wind was music to the rapt ear,
The captain he stood on the quarter deck,

When to windward he saw what appeared a mere speck.
It seem'd to have motion-a head-a tail,
It looked very odd, but not "like a whale ;"
Nearer it came,-and what should it be

But the great Sea Serpent, the lord of the sea!
Still onward he press'd, and with graceful pride
Raised aloft his bright crest, as he swam alongside.
Then hailed us and shouted, "Ho! what ship is that?"
Our captain bowed slightly, and just touch'd his hat-
"The Great Western it is, through all the world known,
Her monarch am I, and this deck is my throne;
And now let me ask, why your snakeship is here,
So far out at sea, that I cannot but fear-

Tis neither by star, nor by compass, you steer?"
"Why, captain, 'tis true, I'm not quite in my place,
But I've left old Nahant just to challenge a race.
Through the long winter past, I've been torpid and chill,
And will open the spring with some fun, if you will.
The fastest ship that the ocean has seen
Can I outstrip; with great ease the Queen

I beat last fall; and that Liverpool craft

I laugh at, and leave her a long way aft;

You're proud of your ship, and yet, ten to one,

I'll beat even you, in a six hours' run."

But no writing we'll have; for, between gentlemen,
Done and done 's enough-so I'm off-say when."
The Captain then the signal gave,
Down plunged the Snake-high dashed the wave;
But swift the Serpent rose to view,
Hope seemed to brighten every hue,
And fire blazed in his glaring eye;
As his proud crest he lifted high,
With seeming rage, his sinewy tail
He lashed-and each glittering scale
Flashed to the light-

'Twas a glorious sight!

A glorious sight, as the Monster set out,
And gamboled, and darted, and dashed about!
Then away, away-like an arrow he flew,
The eye strove in vain to follow in view.
Head and tail were gone. Again a mere speck
Could just be seen from the forecastle deck.

Fierce rose the steam, swift the paddles went round,
Our ship cleaved the waves with a courser-like bound.
Yet fully three hours had now passed away,
And still the vile Serpent kept us in play,
Till at last the Captain was heard to groan,
And then exclaim, in most dolorous tone,
"How the Yankees in York will quiz and will bore us,
If their 'tarnal Sarpent should get there before us."
The fourth hour came. Don Nahant slacked his pace:
The aspect of things had a much better face.
Fast and faster we gained on his wake,
And soon overhauled the now tired Snake;
The fire waxed dim in his once-glaring eye,
And that proud crest he had lifted so high
Was fallen quite; and he seemed to burn
With rage, as we dropped him gently astern ;
And then, overcome with toil and with heat,
He lustily cried, "I acknowledge I'm beat."

The Captain was short-" Then down with your dust." "Nay, Captain, you're hard; you must give me some trust;

I'm not ready, I own, to pay the cash down ; But I'll give you a bill on the Barings, or Brown-" "You're a Snake," said the Captain; "take a bill I

ne'er can;

My Herbert, when next
You feel rather vext,

And something has happened amiss ;
Don't set up a roar,
Such folly give o'er,
But give dear mamma a good kiss.
Whene'er you fall down

And crack your poor crown,
Pray get up as fast as you can ;
Without any crying,

Or sobbing or sighing,

And then we shall call you a man.
When grandmamma calls,
Give up bricks and balls,

And quickly your lesson begin;
Endeavor to spell,

And try to read well,

And then a good name you will gain.

Be gentle to sister,

And when you have kiss'd her,
Don't give her too bearish a squeeze;
But love her indeed,

And teach her to read,

And think it no pleasure to tease.

Don't think it fine fun
To scamper and run,
And hide yourself under the bed;
Take care of your ball,
For fear it should fall,

And break something over your head.

Your hoop you take pride
Round corners to guide,

And some day a top you may spin ;
Away from the pump
Immediately stump,

When nurse says it's time to come in.