VOL. 48. AMERICAN VOLUNTEER, nJBBISHED EVERY THURSDAY. MORXTXO BY JOII9I B. BRATTON. v TE II M S SrnsciurnoN. —Onq Dollar and Fifty. Cents, paid Jti advance: Two Dollars if paid within tho year; and Tw*» Dollars and Fifty Cents, if not paid within tho year. Theso terms will bo rigidly adhered to in pvcry instance. No subscription discontinued until all arrearages are paid unless at tho option of tho Editor. - • Advertisements— Accompanied by tbo cash; and not exceeding one square,, will be inserted tbroo times for Ouo Dollar, and twenty-ilvo cents for each additional insertion. Those of a greater length iu proportion. Jou-Piuntino—Sucji ns Hand-bills, Posting-bills, Pampblots, Blanlcs, Labels, &c, «tc., executed with accuracy and at tho shortest notice. %M\ml A COMMON STORY. BY THE AUTHOR OF JQHX HALIFAX So, the truth’s out,. I’ll grasp it like ° snake— It,will not slay me,- My heart st* llll not break Awhile,'if-only for tho chil'k’Oß 3 sake. ' For his too somr—nnt. . Lot him stand unblaUicd None say-, h" gavo mo less'than honor claimed,' j; xc( ,|,i dno.-.triilo scarcely worth being named,' ; Thoheurf.- Tlmfc’sgono. Tho cornipt deed might bo As easily raised up, breathing, fair co see, As he could bring bis whole heart back to mo. I never sought him in .coquettish sport, Or courted him as silly maidens court, . And wonder when thp iohgcd-for prize falls short. I only loved liim, any woman would; But shut my love up till ho came, and sued, Thou poured it o’er hia dry Ufo like a Hood, I was so happy I could make,him blest! So happy that that I was his first and best, As' ho mine, when ho took mo to his breast. Ah mo! if only, then he had been true! If for one little year, a month or.two, Jle had given mo love Tor love, as was'my duo ! Or had ho told mo, ere. the deed was done, Ho only raised mo. to his heart’s dear throne;. Poor substitute!, because the queen was gone \ Or, had ho whispered when his sweetest kiss Was warm upon ray mouth in fancied bliss, Ho had kissed another woman like to this,. It wore less bitter ! Sometimes I could weep To bo cheated,;like a child asleep.: Wore not the anguish far too dry and deep. So I built my house upon another!a ground; Mocked with a heart just caught at the rebound ; A cankered thing thatlookcd so firm and sound, And'when that heart grow colder, colder still, I, ignorant, tried all duties to fulfil, .illuming my foolish pain, exacting will. All, anything but him. : It was to bo Tho full draught,others drink iip carelessly Was made this bitter Tantalus-'Cup forme. ' I and my children never shnil be sbamedi Ho is a just man; ho will live uublamcd. ■ Onty, 0 God, 0 God, to cry for breacl, get a stone! Daily to lay my head- Upon a bosom where the old love’s dead I Dead ? Fool! It never lived. It only stirred ’ Galvanic, like an hour old corpse. None hoardj /3o let mo bury it without a word. ' He’ll keep thnt.othor woman from my sight, I know not if her lace bo foul.or bright; I only know that it was bis delight— As his was mine : I only know ho stands Palo, at the touch of their loug severed hands, Then to a 1 ■ flickering smilo his lips commands, Lost I should grieve, or jealous anger show. He need not. When the ship’s gone down, I. trow, Wo little rock whatever wind may blow. And so ray silent moan begins and endp, No world’s laugher world’s taunt, no pity of friends Or sneer of foes, with this my torment bicuds. JNone knows ; none needs. I have a little pride ; Enough to stand up, wife-like, by his side, With the same smilo as when I was a bride. ffiimllaiimiH. THE VEILED PICTURE j THE MYSTERY OP THE LIBRARY, No searching eye can .pierce the veil That o’er my secret life is thrown.; . No outward signs reveal its tale, But to my bosom known. Thus like the spark whoso vivid light lu the dark Hint is hid from sight, It dwells within, ajouo. “ What have you concealed hero ?” I said, taking hold of the heavy silk drapory’attaoh ed to a rose-wood cornice, and falling in graceful folds to the llnor. “ Lilian 1 Lilian, don’t raise it 1” exclaim ed Mrs. Thornton, springing from the easy onair.ip.whioh she had been reclining with the listlessneasofa dreaming child, and darting to piy side she pressed so heavily against the viol that I could discern the outline of a pic ture-frame, r . “ A picture 1" I exclaimed. “0, I must see it, for I can never rest whore there is any thing mysterious.’' ' “ But this you can not —mttql not see.’* I did not reply, for having been an inmate of the house only a week, and this being my first visiWo the library, I did not give utter ance to-the thoughts which rushed through 1 my mind. Perhaps Mrs. Thornton divined my-thoughts, ns after a moment’s silence she said : “You are to have access to tips library at all times ; every hook is ai your service, and you are at liberty, oven, to rummage the draw ers and pigeon-holes of my desk, if your cu riosity demands-it; hutyou must not look be neath the veil that hides this picture and ■or pale lips trembled, her dark expressive were fixed upon mine. Hl ,*' „ 8t °P° glance." I said pleadingly ; but 101 beild n °gatively, and I wont J, , °an I study with that mystery H befuro „ mo iu l d tjiontoo 1 shall never nieht np U u?- y “S' 11 ! 1 ’ ljut dream the livelong some «t- thlB ra - vst . ioul veil > and that it hides C°nie asomnn’ i To ,l rd ' in ? n «° ; or "' orso - bfl -- vant (wl,™?‘ lmbullBt ‘“’d ‘frighten every sor houso i )v * n PP on s to fear ghosts) from tho 'vanUepi n^8# »)y mi^l i*Kht ant] veiled pic\u but, O l! . no every looks upon this relic I have n’i-n„t tIS ” n orod. fur it is tho only ‘hat I hav e t P O °, 3 ;. r '; ed /’ f my past life all br 'ght to last—of”,, i- m S 0 ! m PP-V days too pathway was c i,.„ n JU '°! period when life’s dreamed I notthnii"' 11 'V 11 ' lowers, I and flowery petals slin 01 * 011 - 1 th( - )3 ° bl| r,perfumed liidtltm.’’ ‘ 8 ’ Bl,a T> Piercing thorns wore Her face was pule as death, and those deep, dark eyes moist with pearly tears. • I saw that her heart was deeply pained ; that welling from memory’s fount came pain ful remembrance, and truly penitent, I said, “ Forgive my thoughtless words, and I prom ise never to raise the veil from this picture, nor pain your heart by thy questions.” An intense smile stole over her pale fea tures,, and kissing my cheek, she murmured, “Dear child ; perhaps some day I may lift the veil and toil you all.” Then turning away to hide her tears, left trio standing be fore the veiled picture. It was rather curious how I camp to ho a dweller in tho home of Mrs. Thornton. Two years before, when but fourteen years old, I came to Now Haven to attend school,.and soon after my father leaving homo for Eu rope, where he expected to remain three years, intrusted mo to tho guardianship of Mr. Howe, an old friend of his college days. It was at tho house of Mr. Howe (hat I first met Mrs. Thornton. She went hut little into society, and my guardian’s was one of the few fami lies she visited, .Her pale, expressive face attracted, mo, and than',.(no. there was an in- 1 definable something iu' her dark, liquid eyes, now so srid, ami now glowing with an intense smile, that woke an answering echo in my young heart. She always-called mo to her side to ask ino about my studies : and when a now book was announced which she thought would he suitable for tno to road, she placed it in my hand with my name engraven upon the.fly-leaf in'her own handwriting, AV.as .it strange that my heart warmed toward her ; that her.coming was looked .forward to with pleasure, or that I often hegired for the privi lege.of visiting her in her quiet; pleasanthome. My visits there were not very frequent ; and when there'wo sat in her boudoir which was fitted up with artistic taste, and hnving never been admitted to'the library Iliad never seen the veiled picture. I had a pleasant home with Mr. Howe’s family; yet it. waaa glad surprise when ho said that I could board.with Mrs. Thornton, if I wished, and thought that I could be hap py thero. Mrs. Thornton; had proposed it, us. Mr. Howe’s family anticipated being absent .from .the city most of .the. summer ; and tho following Saturday I removed to her home. It was my first holiday in my new home, and I had gone to the library with Mrs. Thornton to select a hook, when, on passing around, my eyes fell upon the silk drapery shading the wall in the furthest corner, and was about to draw it aside when her excla-, motion prevented. I, had promised not to look beneath, the mysterious folds of. that silken veil, yet I was not satisfied; curiosity prompted mo to try.to catch a hasty glimpse when Mrs. T.hornton was occupied] but hon or forbade. . Summor.and autumn passed, and tho long winter evenings were spent in tho cozy, cheer ful library ; and, though ! cast many a furtive glance toward tho veiled picture, X dared not question Mrs.-Thornton,, and-began to.des ’ pair of tho dawning.of that day when she would relate the history of the. picture,' It was n mild evening in spring, and wo wore H.T;..ill;rar.-pa-I.AVaiah. ing the fast dimning coals that'had burned low, while Mrs. Thornton, with closed eyes sat near in the easy chair. My reverie was broken by the tremulous tones of her voice, saying's ... , * “ Lilian, do you remember your mother?” Then. I answered that, though, I turned leaf lifter leaf of Memory’s hook, yet I could find no record os a mother’s love. She died when I was about two years old, yet my fath er had been kind, and, ns fur ns possible,, filled the place of both father and mother. My childhood had passed happily ; my father was. both friend and instructor, and my first groat grief had boon when I was sent to school and my father sailed for Europe. ’ “ Was your mother’s name Lilian?” and there was something in the tone of her voice that startled me; . 1 ■ “ Her name was May. Was it not n sweet name ?” Very pretty," and the glowing intensity of her eye, ns I met its gaze, made my heart throb with a strange sensation. “ I can’t tell whore she was buried. Once when I asked my father, he said it was far away, ami wo would go to the place of mv birth when I was older. My father was so lonely after mother’s death that he,sold his home in New York and removed to Ohio, X have no recollection of my firstborns, hut shall ask my. father to take mo there before wo re turn to Ohio.” “ And your father loved his wife ?” “ What a strange question,” I said. Yet she appeared to. have spoken without thought. 11 If he had not loved her, do you think ho would have remained true to her memory fif teen years?” “I have a headache, and shall retire,” Mrs. Thornton said, rising I and coming to my side, she kissed me tenderly, and with a flushed cheek left the library. lias. Hbmans, For a long time I sat gazing into the dy ing coals. Wore her questions the magic key that had unlocked the casket where the memories of my childhood were stored ? I could not toll. Yet there came a dim remem beranco of a time win n I was playing alone in the garden and a strange face peered into mine,-as some one clasping mo in her arms kissed mo again and again,, while my face was' wot with tears. I never know whence she came or whither she wont, and it seemed strange that dim memory should oome hack then. It passed, and a bright dream flitted before my waking vision-—my father would return in a few.months) ho would moot Mrs. Thorton; she was so gentle and winning ho would not fail to bo pleased with her, and I might he permitted to call her mother! My hand was on the knob to open tho door, but I hesitated. It was late, and the house was still. How easy it would be to solve tho mystery, and Mrs. Thornton never know it For months that veiled picture had haunted iny waking and sleeping visions, why should I longer perplex my mind with vain conjec ture : and crossing tho library, I placed the lamp so its light would fall directly upon the picture. W.as it the, rustling of tho silk or tho faint echo of goiitlo footsteps that startled me; but, listening intently, I found all silent within and without. Ah I it was the whis pering of tho still, small voloo, and should I heed its promptings? She would not know it, curiosity whispered ; so I raised the veil'; but, ns my eye caught a glimpse of a gilded frame, the drapery fell from my hand! I re membered my promise never to raise that veil, and I turned away wondering why so costly a frame was hidden' beneath those dark folds. From that night tho mystery of the library deepened. I had a nervous dread of being left alqno with tho veiled picture, and my im aginative mind pictured a scene of horror that would thrill every nerve and freeze m v heart’s blood ! My father returned, and when I told him how kind Mrs. Thornton had been, ho called to thank her in person, but she was ill and (tould Pot leave her room, Wondering what could agitato her so, I returned to my father, saying she would be hotter in a day or two, .and he must not leave the city until ho had scon her. But he was firm in his decision to leave the next day, and I must accompany him. Then I expressed a wish to vfsit my mother’s grave. Ho drew me to his side, and with his arm encircling me, and iny head rcs tihg upon liis bosom, told me of my .mother. To him the memory of tho past was painful, and I mingled my tears with those of my fath er, while again I scorned to hear that strange voice, and spo that strange_faoo peering into mine, In two hours I would leave my kind friend, and I whs going without tho mystery of the library being solved; so I ventured to hint that, when I camo to visit hor the next year, I hoped to see the veiled picture unveiled.— She did not reply, hut taking my hand led me to tho library. She would toll me, all, she said; for, perhaps, we might never moot again.; Mrs. Thorton told her story briefly. - She was tho only child of wealthy parents,, and married at the ago of nineteen. For three years she was happy in the pleasant homo to which her husband took hor; then a cloud of midnight darkness overshadowed that homo; Some one envying her circulated reports inju rious to her reputation, and those coming to her husband’s ears,he,being naturally pfajeal ons disposition,, believed them. The wife loved her husband devotedly, and being in nocent, 'how could slip, hear patiently his taunts and uncalled for surveillance? So she proposed to her .paternal home, and the husband said, “Go,” only she must leave her-child. She'did go, and three years after, her parents being dead, she went to Europe; where she remained eight years, .Returning to America, she came to New Haven, whore, under the assumed name of Thornton; she had since resided; sho visited tho home of hor husband during.lds absence, and bribing, the housekeeper by tho prosout'of a.well-fiUed purse, procured his portrait; and in all her. wanderings it had hoeti her companion, though closely veiled, lest some one should recognize it, and thus her earlier history become food for idle gpssip. Then, too, sho had seen her ' child, and for a brief moment pressed it to hor bqsom, but words could not express tho agony of her breaking heart as she turned away from her child. “Your husband’s name,” I said, sinking at her feet and gazing wonderihgly into her pale ■face and the dark liquid eyes, bent so loving ly upon me, for a strange hope made.my.heart throb wildly. “I cannot repeat his, name, but you may look upon his counterpart,’’, she said,, rising. Slowly, almost reverently,' she put back the Odds of that silken veil, while I stood, half breathless, beside her. Was it a dream, or was it reality ? ’X'horo was no mistaking that likeness ; and involuntarily the words; “My father!” burst from my lips. Then, like a swiftly-moving panorama, it till passed before my mind, and throwing my. arms around her nook, I called her; ■ “My mother—my long lost mother 1 My father told me all. yesterdayX said,' when she had become more calm, “He learned tho re ports worm without^%fndmipnjjiyd hearing yrMpfiad gone- tin JmWjpo, for throe yiM'sTiifs he sought you there, and now bis heart is sad because, ho can find no trace of you. Will you see him ?’’ She did not reply, hut I read her answer in the beaming eye,, and hastily donning bonnet and mantle, ran to the hotel, whore I surpri sed my father by rushing, breathless into his room. < “ Como with me; Mrs. Thornton will see you now,” I s.aid nervously clutching his arm, and pulling him toward the door; huthe, re sisting, asked what had occurred to excite me so. It was not there that I would explain, so ho followed my rapid footsteps along the street and up the shaded walk; hut when I throw open the door loading to the library, ho paused. “She is here—come,” I said, drawing him into the library. - She hud risen ; how Lively she looked theiwhor pale brow, her bright eye, and a crimson spot horning on either cheek. One moment my father stood ns though chained to the spot, then advancing, he.exclaimed; “P|or i, my wife!” “ Herbert I” was the soft loply. and she was clasped in his arms. “Forgive and forgot the past,” I hoard a manly voice murmur ; and then my name was repeated in soft accents. I went to my moth ers’ side., and'the happy husband and father ■pressed 'his wife and child to his heart, as in reverent tones ho implored God to bless our reunion. The veiled picture was unveiled, the mys tery of the library solved: and returning to our Western homo, onoii more a happy family group-dwelt beneath its roof. A gentle, lov ing wife and mother was the guidiug-star of that home. ET” Life is made up, of little things. He who travels over a continent must go step by stop. lie who writes a book must do it sen tence bj’, sentence. He who learns a science must master it fact by fact, and principle af ter principle. What is the happiness of our life made up of? Little courtesies, little kind nesses, pleasant words, gonial smiles, a friend ly-letter, good wishes, and good deoils. One in a million, once in a lifetime, may do an heorio action; but the little things that make up our life, come every day and every hour. If wo make the little events of life beautiful and good, then is the whole life of beauty and goodness. After an evening of friendly talk with a party which included tho Into Douglas Jor rold, tho two friends Charles Knight and Jor rold, (between whom a close friendship had existed for many years,) walked homeward together. In the course of the evening tho conversation had turned upon epitaphs, and Knight, half in jest, half in earnest, had asked.tho great wit to write his epitaph fol ium. Tho incident escaped Knight’s recol lection, hut on arriving at the point where they were to part, it was recalled to his mem ory by Jorrold himself. “ I have got the epitaph for you,” said ho. “Well, what is it?” “Good (K)night.” And with that they parted, JBgyr Sheridan once succeeded admirably in entrapping a noisy member, who was in the habit of interrupting every speaker with cries of “ Hoar, hear? ” lie took an oppor tunity to allude to a well-known political character of tho time, who wished to play the. rogue, but had only sense enough to play tho foul. “ Where shall wo”find a more fool ish knave or a more knavish fool than this?” “ Ifcar, hear,” was instantly bellowed from tho accustomed bench, The wicked wit bowed, thanked tho gentleman for l|is ready 1 reply to tho question, and satdbwn, amid the convulsions of laughter of till but tho unfor tunate subject. KT” Ties of choice are closer than ties of blood, unless the hearts are kinderod as well as the bodies, “ OUR COUNTRY—MAY IT ALWAYS'BE RIGHT—BUT, RIGHT OR WRONG, OUR COUNTRY.” CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, MAY there for the first time, beheld liis own image reflected in tho water; Ho; became so fond of himself, that lie. would never. leave the spot whore his beauty had been, revealed to him, but-gazing till lie had wasted away, was changed by.thc gods into th-. flower that bears his name. Ilyacinthus, bein" beautiful and accom plished, was so highly esteemed by Apollo, that Zcph’yriia, incensed at the youth’s cold ness and indifference, detei'inihed on his do,-, structipn. One day, when Apollo- and Ilya cinthus were playing quoit's, Zephyriis, hid den among the fleecyblonds, directed with his breath tho quoit flung by Apollo full up on the head of the unfortunate prince, who in stantly fell dead. Great was the grief of tho sun-god, who, to .commemorate his victim by their, grace and beauty, caused hyacinths -to spring from his blood. : on thp- Nysiah plain, accompanied by tho ocean nymphs, was plucking flowers. She culled tho rose, the. violet, t ie.crocus, the, hy acinth'; and beholding anatoissus of rare si/,e and- beauty, she stretched' -out. hop band to gather it, when tho -earth chehed, and Pluto,* uprising in his golden oharV\ seized her and [ bore hei (..way. • Cores, lic' V'jntlier, heavdher [• ai‘! cs;"bu cjKffOTytrnW'Vn o - j whither she had fled. IleljrSywovcv, (tho sun), betrays the secret, and"?ells her that Jove permitted it. “Then Ceres, disgusted, deserted, heaven, arid dwelt among mortals." But she would not allow; the corn to sprout, and. threatened with the destruction of his subjects on earth, Jove.beseeches..her to r.o-| turn to heaven, to which she consents on one condition—the restoration of her daughter, who at length returns, but not till she has eat en a pomegranate given, her by Pluto, through, which she was compelled to'return and pass a third of the year with her. infernal husband, “for Pluto dwelt in Hades.” - And . what is Prospprpine but seed corn, which being east into the ground, remains hidden there till it appears upon the surface, and though not de laying to sprout for a third of a year, yet it is about that time from the sowing of the grain to : ts ripened fullness of the ear. , Turning.to the Christian era, we find that die priests of the early church enlisted flowers into their service. They compiled a catalogue of flowers for each day, dedicating each to some particular saint on account of its flower ing about the time of the saint’s festival.— Every one .knows the aspen, ever moving, ev er trembling in the calmest .summer day, the legend of which runs as fellows : As the angel of death neared the cross on which lie hung, who “considereth the lilies how they grow,” ho dashed the cup of bitter ness full at its foot ; and the aspen that grew near, for out of one of them the cross was made, shuddering at the daring of the deed, inherited forovCr the trembling throes of the dying Deity. The Shamrock, the national, emblem of one of Britain’s fairest isles, has its Christian le- gend thus: St. Patricius, unable to make his bearers comprehend the meaning of the word Trinity, desparingly oast his oyes on the ground in prayer for some means whereby ho might “lighten the Gentiles," when spying the little trefoil shamrock at his feet, ho plucked it, and holding it up on high, pointed to throe leaves on one stem ns the emblem.of his doctrine, to the easy comprohonsiou of his listeners. To tlio beautiful little flower the forget-me not, with its blue, like the tint of a summer sky, and its golden eye, .bright as'hope, is at tached a legend known to most of uur readers, though it will not be amiss to repeat it. A Gorman knight, with his lady-love, wore walk ing on the banks of the Danube, when the fair one saw a tuft of the myosolia in the stream, and expressed her wish for it. With all chiv alrous alacrity, the knight, in full array, plunged in anil gathered the prize; but the eddies of that treacherous river drew him down in their fatal grasp, and sinking, ho throw the flowers on shore to his distracted mistress, with the well-known words “ Veigriss mein niohtf” —“Forgot-mo-not.” jgy An amusing sword presentation was made by the ollioers of tlio 78tli Pennsylvania to their Colonel, William Sinvell. The pre sentation speech of Captain Gillespie was: “ Here we are, and hero it is, This is a- bally sword, and comes troia b’dly follows, lake it and use it in a bully niaunor. Col. &ir ,roll's reply was : “ Captain, that was a bully speech. Let us take a bully drink.” ngy? A poor man gives his mite to the cause of benevolence, which is scarcely noticed, and a rich man out of his abundance gives hun dreds of dollars, and the contribution is par aded in the public journals as evidence of his wonderful liberality. And yet may not God see more in the gift of the one to p case him than in the largo donation of the other? HT A peasant, being at confession, accu sed d.imself of having stolon some hay,- the father-confessor a deed Inin how many bun dles bo bad taken from the stack. ? J-bat is of no consequence," replied the peasant, “ you may put down a wagon-load, for my wife and mo are going to fetch the remain der very soon,” FLOWER LEGENDS, Among the ancientn, the qualities of a tree tho attitude of- a flower, tho etymology of its name, inspired the lively imagination of the men of-old with a fable, or embellishment of a simplo history, which received from themn, kind of pleasant acceptance, a willing cre dence. . All tho poets with sing well of flow-, era liavb scoured a good hearin ;g the very names of. plants “smell afreet and bloom in the dust” of old literature, and in almost for gotten songs. Tho Persians press, their sen timents into tho mouths bf' Dnwersi and nr-' range'their boquotagramatienlly. In pH c ; v . ilized natiokis they are the types and sybols ot loveliness, innocence ami fre-hnoss, of un questioned and unquestioning beauty. When Venus first appeared rising from.tho froth of tho sea, roses are said to have sprung simultaneously, from the earth, and the grtw ces hastening to ;attcnd her, crowned them selves with the novel flower in honor of'the now,,divinity. , Tho roses which then appeared were white; and none displayed any other tint till the death of Adonis, when Venus hasten ing barefooted tothe assistiijioo of her beloved,' trod upon a rose winch wounded her with its thorns, and being stained frith her blood, oyer after retained the crimson hue.. Associated with tho Narcissus, wohavo the following: . .. Narcissus was a youth of.BoooHn, of whom Tirosins, tho soothsayer, /foretold that he should live happily Until hosaw his own face, hut'that would be fatal to. him. On account of his surpassing beauty, the nymph Echo became desperately .enamored of him, but ho slighted hor love, and sh.o pined away With grief, till nothing remained of her but hor voice, and -even that lost the power of utter ance beyond repeating tho last syllable of a sentence, .Narcissus, heated by the chase, went to drink from a clear calm' rivulet, and - In connection with flowers comas in tho lovelylegond of tho Rape of Proserpine, who, i, 1861. political. From tho Philadelphia *6umlay Mercury. TUB WORST ENEMIES OP THE UNION ? The worst enemies of the Union are those that prate the most incessantly about its pres ervation. Mark them 1 Look at Phillips, Grcoly, and men of that stamp, They are as loud in lauding the Union as were tho Phar isees in the time of our Savior, in lauding the Mosaic law; yet Christ frowned upon them ns the worst enemies of that law ; cursed them as; the vilest oppressors, and denounced them as a “generation of vipers.” And do not our modern Pharisees of tho Tribune order deserve tho fate of their foul-tongued, long-faced, hyp ocritical predecessors? Are they not the most determined enemies of the Union ? Let facts speak for themselves. Review the cqnrso of these men for the last twenty-five years.— Have they not, during that period of time, been most sedulously ,engaged in , spreading “fire brands, arrows, and death,” throughout the length and breadth, of the land 3 Tho great idea they have endeavored topropogiito is, that one of the primary objects provided for by the Constitution, namely: the rendition of fugitive slaves—involves an aoc which is morally, religiously and politically wrong.— livery mode which ingenuity could invent to propagate this position, has boon put in ope ration. Societies, have been formed in order to raise ample funds ; papers have been estab lished in. the most prominent points of the country.; books bavo been published; lectu rers have been sent forth; who, from their am ple compensation for tboir services, wore able to devote all their time, to their mission ; in a word, no stone has been left unturned, the mo tion of which was in the slightest degree cab 'ciliated to disseminate the .sentiment common to those propagandists.- . ' .. How can any mari .be the friend of tho Con stitution who denounces its objects ? As well mighfit be said that he is the bosom friend of a man, who “ever and anon” denounces his character. Can bo love an individual, Who continually subverts his interest? . Words of affection are, a dangerous reliance when acts of opposition dire met at every, stop. Yet, in defiance of principles!'.thus self-evident, those men are loud in proclaiming themselves the especial friends of tho Union. They, have fur tho last year bowed, the. kaeo seven times a day to tho Constitution and thp Union; and for,tho lastjpmii'ter-of a century they.have, never existed n day without denouncing the former as a “league with hell,” and doing all in their power to destroy the latter, by con stantly ousting the spoils of discord broad spread over the land. God save ns from such friends, Tho loveofsuch men is like the fang, of a viper! Thoreis poison in their very touch ; the sting of the asp is beneath their tongue; their habitations are tho abodes of cruelty ; peace is a stranger to their councils. It is the vilest hypocrisy for snob men. to talk ! 1 of maintaining the Union, while they pnmuil -1 gate ideas that are 'adverse to its objects, of alien, to its spirit., During Mm entire period 1-Pj:tkelr,hj.atery»tlwy bave..ueye.p placed; them. selves in such a ridiculously foolish pbsitioh ns that .which they now so pertinaciously maintain,' in claiming to ho tho exclusive friends of tho Union. . At one time, those so called philanthropist canie out plainly and said “tho Constitution I I provides for wicked objects ; it sanctions sla very; dtallows tho masters to retake fugitives I from Southern thraldom. In ■ doing those things thoro is a violation of every principle of morality and religion, , As tho advoci)tos of!Christianity, we therefore are compelled to denounce that instrument; it is a vilo com pact, formed to minister to the lusts of had men, and calculated to- sustain an abhorrent system of inqury and outrage. • We consider all slave-holders to hb inon-stqalera—worst by far, than thieves—more abandoned 1 than rub bers—deserving a fate as horrible as pirates. From such inch «e turn with unutterable dis gust, and we consider them us not having re ceived thoir duos until they dangle from a scaff ild! Since we cannot properly carry out our views, while tho Constitution is in force, wo deny its obligation in morals, and contend, as'politicians, for its utter abrogation. We are openly for a dissolution of the Union.”— Such were tho sentiments which wore pro- mulgated some fifteen years ago by Ahhy Kelly and a vast group of kindred spirits that spread like locust over the land. Yet, strange to say, these people are now the most violent and uncompromising friends of the Union 1— Gracious heavens! what a summerset they have turned! But can any one, in his sen ses, believe that the Constitution is‘strength ened'by the support or friendship-of such-peo ple f They are just what they always were. They bless or curse for a dollar 1 Out of place or out of power, they hurl their anathemas at government ns if they possessed a Divine com mission to denounce vengeance and designate the. objects upon which it should fall. Put them in .office, the lion is at once transformed into a lamb; the lips that cursed, curse no more ; Government is an ordinance ol God ; passive obedience and non-resistenco arc du ties which every good citizen owes to men in authority! Well- may every American ex claim, lieavon save us from ultraisin 1 If ov- er a nation in an ago of- the world wont through a more fiery 'ordeal from the preva lence of this evil than, has the United States f America, wo should like any one to point is to it. M r c have felt the scourge in every fornp It has scattered its ills in every city and State, village and vale. It has been ceaseless in its action ; there has been no re- peso under its pressure. Years have inoreaseif its intensity, until its accumulated evils have burst in a mighty torrent upon the land, bear ing away in its dreadful surge all that was delightful in social ties and national recollec tions, And yet, li.ko the hideous monster of the roman poot, who roared for prey, though liis don was full, it cries aloud throughout tlio land to tho battling hosts of brethren, to burl sharp and swift the instruments of death, and never stay tlio fatal work of destruction while dying groans can rend the nir, or gushing life blood soften the earth 1 A l ' o wo men or arc wo demons? If mon, lot us stand up in hon est truth to our Constitution,' never doubting that it is what our forefathers designed it should he an antidote and cure fur all the po litical ills arising from our peculiar condition, as a people and a nation, , If demons, let ns nhiuro it at once and forever, and go whole sale into bntoliory, until we shall have got a surfeit of carnage ? Per heavoids sake let ns cease patronising political quackery. It has brought us to the brink of ruin. Wo tremble upon tho very edge of the acclivity. Nothing can save us from the hideous precipice below, but the abandonment of past delusions ; tlio abjura tions of false teachers; and the resumption of common sense principles. One grain of common sense is worth more, under any cir cumstances of human life, than an ocean of transcendentalism. This is no day for.abstrac tions. The American people, of all people, in tho world, are tlio least calculated for them. Their habits and their history render tlmm eminently practical. Lot them take up Na tional affairs, just as they build a steam-clad vessel, and they will not fail to come to prop er and successful conclusions. There is not the slightest difficulty on tho subject. Tho troub le is in the way it is managed. If wo would, es a nation derermine to do tho best we, can, under tho circumstances of the ease, and drop ping all speculations about possible evils, eim-, ply take tho Constitution and laws, ns our rule, and a good oonsoionoo as our guide, peace would bo restored to our land and pros perity ulietl its blessings on oqr borders. There never wasa time inour history which called for tho development of those principles, to ns groat sin extent, as tho present. Tho old enemy is now more active nnd.dangoroqs than ever. Instead of tho contracted sphere, iu which he formerly moved, ho now exerts his influence in camps ; reigns supremo in high official positions ; and threatens to control the notion of both Houses of Congress. Of course, ho is every whore clamorous for tho I; nmn,_lint, at the same time, as of old, ho is constantly advocating or originating measures inimical to tho Constitution. Instead ol sim-. ply to crush th.o rebellion by tho moans provided in that instrument, and res tore tho Union, by rendering the Constitution triumphant, he.puts first and formost his nots of confiscation,.Congressional emancipation, and territorial tyranny ! Can tlio Union over he restored by dividing the hearts Of,tho citi zens, who compose it? Is it, not foolish to at tempt to accomplish an object, by the iiutho tv.of law, whom tho moral souse of the nation docs not sustain tho spirit of.the. enactment ? On' the 4th of March, 1 Senator. Cowan administered a scathing rebuke to the advocates of .these disunion measures. Pennsylvania hns reason -to ho proud of such, a reprosontn-. tivd, Tho course which that go'ntlenmn coun sels lymild not.only ond tho rebellion hut for ever establish tho Constitution. Our hearty, i wish and firm belief are, that it will finally i bo adoptod,.despite.tho opposition with which i it is- assailed, The Constitution, for a period I of hoar a century, has provodutself sufficient 1 to bind all parts of tho land together, and I to protect each, What moro caniye roasoha- . bly want ? From tho Bbii. Inquirer—Republican paper. The Cameron - fifgime* in Ihe .War Depart ment. A startling exposition of the mismanage ment of the War Department under cx-Secro ta'ry Cameron and 'A'sistant Secretary Scott is furnisliod by Executive docmpept, hfo 0.7, re cently printed by tbe House of Representa tives, It appears by this,, that these two functionaries were busily engaged, during’ last, surmnorand fall m.akihg’oontraots formus kpts and other small arms, until the aggre gate of their operations summed up one mil lion nine hundred and seventy-six thousand two hundred and forty muskets, rifles and carbines, seventy-two thousand four hundred and forty pistols, and one. hundred and forty-two thou sand live hundred swords ; for which they oh ’• ligodtho Treasury to pay the trifling amount . of §40,14-1,005, Those arms wore to ho ,de ■ UyereA according, to thd convenience of the ‘con tfacVorst at'almosf any Time along in; thO next two years, the delivery of hundreds of thousands of them being accommodatingly | disposed over periods'extending from July, 1803, to December , 1803 1 - \ While thd public will'bo astounded at the ' vast, magnitude and wild improvidence of these operations, there-are other, attending circumstances .that will leave them hardly loss amazed. ’Whatever we consider the ex orbitant prices agreed upon, or the appa rent privity with the bidders, or the censura ble favortism to defaulting and bogus con tractors, or the miserable inferiority of the arms thus procured, or tho character of the contractors {who were in largo part neither manufactures of any kind nor dealers in arts), or tho impolicy of the Department bring ing into tho field so many bidders to compote with itself in the markets of Europe—-all show a reckless system of extravagance and jobbing, and a want of foresight and admin istrative ability', shoekjng to the instincts of ovory honest citizen and well-trained busi ness man, Every part of the book is filled with eases illustrating’the justness of these remarks, hut from thorn all wo select nno ease. which, ns it has boon recently before the public, may bo taken us a sample : On lh<! 4th of September, 11. linker & Co., of Now York,'offered to furiilsb “ upwards of one hundred thousand stand of rifled percus sion muskets,” at eighteen dollars each. These ri/tcil gqnsthcy represented as being within their >‘ control,” from having made ‘‘advances thereon.” Next day this offer was accepted by Simon Cameron, with, the condition that the rtrst instalment of the arms should he rcaily for inspection- in Europe on the 12th of October following, and none to be taken that were not submitted for inspection before the 12st of November, They-were to be of of two specified bores, 58 inch and 09 inch. Those are the material points in the agreement. In the lioxt we hear of this In,iso transaction is from Mr. linker, who writes, after his contract time had expired, from somewhere in Kurupe, thafafter an examina tion of thoyi/ns in the market he linds it diffi cult to furnish “rilled minkoN.” and coolly asks the Department to allow him to furnish •‘smooth bores” of the calibre of 7!) inch and 72 inch. Tliis modification was granted, but with no roil action of pried, the muskets to bo nil of one calibre (70) however. This proposition, bo it remembered, came from contractors who hail written the Department that they had control of “ upwards one hundred thousand ri fled percussion muskets,” upon which they j had made advances. On the twenty-fourth of November, nearly two weeks after the final tern; of the contract had expired, Mr. Wright, the Government Inspector, writes that those arms wore Iving in arsenals undent different places in France, Belgium, Prussia and Aus tria, and that but a portion had boon inspect ed. Next wo hoar from Captain Crispin, the Ordnance Officer at Now York on the thirteenth of February, throe mouths after the expiration of the term, that 11. linker it On., had sent sixty-one thousand four hundred and eighty-five rifled muskets, of eleven varie- ; ties and seren diflbrent calibres. Of those : seventeen thousand eight hundred and thirty nine were altered inUskefs of the abandoned Austrian model, and of inferior workmanshiy ; seventeen thousand throe hundred and-ninoty four more wore “ open to grave and serious objections and of the whole lot but twenty five thousand throe hundred and, seventy-six 1 were what might bo called fair arms, coming anywhere near the contract. The fitting de nouement of the transaction above briefly re cited was placed before the public a few weeks ago. lion, dosopb Holt settled this businsos, which footed up two million nine hundred and tep thousand dollars, according to the old arrangement with the War De partment, by reducing the bills to one million throe hundred thousand dollars. No one can road such exposures without seeing that those parties had no '‘ control" of tbs muskets they agreed to furnish—that - the whole affair was a sheer- speculation—and 1 that the War Department was utterly reck • less, or worse, in its purchases of arms. Yet i this book is filled with such transactions, foot ingupin the aggregate over forty-six millions . of dollars. From an inspection of the names upon the pages of the document; it would seem that any one “ in the ring’' could get a contract to furnish guns, and tho man farthest' removed from the business Stood the best chance of a fat job. In this way ox-mem-: bors of State Legislatures, printers, lawyers, editors, jobbers and speculators of all.kinds, who know. no more of manufacturing or. buy ing arms than they do of tho erection of the pyramid of Cheops, ‘-'got their hooks’* into tho national treasury through the wido-t -open doors of the War .Department;. There was one officer, however, who stood up manfully against the course of wild and, insane’managomont Of the Department, and that was General Hi ploy. On all occasions, wo find him throughout this report intprpbs-; ing against the unwise and wasteful transact tions of his two superiors. Secretary Came ron and Assistant Secretary Scott. He re--, minds them that the prices are too'high, that the orders are unnecessary, that there are too many bidders brought into tho market, the effect of which was to raise the price of arms against each other and against tho Gov ernment. The files of the Department give ample evidence that this was tho direct re sult in the markets of Europe of such a pro, fusion of contracts and orders. The Govern* ment itself had one of its own agents at tho same time buying in Europe, and these mul titudinous operations embarrassed and raised prices on him* All this General Kiploy Warned the Secretary as a certain to opepr, , hut.his.advioo and admonitions werenn avail. Tho motto waslet contracting thrivo!" The protests of the Ordnanoo Bureau were over slaughtered by brief and curt, endorse ments like these :—“The Secretary dosirat done to-day. “Thomas A. Scott." “ThoSecror tary desires this to be arranged. Thomas A. Scott." “ Tho Secretary desires the guns re ferred to shall be secured. Thomas At Scott.’* And it was “done" and it was arranged, In this fact, that General Ripley opposed such a mode ofdoiug business foot and branch with all its might, is to. bo found tho secret of all this vituperation of which lie was tho sub ject arid the victim last Summer and Fall. We close this very imperfect notice of Ex ecutive Document No. G 7; with the remarks that the Government never needed more thaii three or four hundred thousand stand of arms from Europe, although two millions,wore con* tracted for. It is duo. also, to justiceand the truth of history to say’.that this whole system has been crushed put,by Stanton* who appointed for the purpose Hon. Robert Dale, Owen, Hon. Joseph Holt and Major nor, , Popping live tyicslion, , Fair Sally and her lover, Mat, Close by the fire In sllance sat j . A dish of apples, rosy-faced, Was.’tween them on the table placed, In'vain poor ‘Mat essayed to speak, .• Wliilo blushes mantled Sally's cheek; ■ For n;cU shokmjW: vvbafc Matwould say,. If lie could only find the way. To him sho cast a side-long Joqjf, • Thoii from the dish an apple took, And deftly slicing it in twain, She passed half to tbo silent strain, Mat looked confused,-then brightened up. And said, as ho tbo apple took : u Now, Sally, dearest, unto mo, As kind us to tbia pippin bo— You’ve halved the' apple—pray liner mo! ** A Ladgiiadle French Miracle. —The * well kpowri Froneli.'missionary, Father Bri hain, was always, poor, for tho simple reason that he gave away everything that ho had, . One evening ho asked for n night’s lodging of the curate of the village through which ho passed, and the worthy man haying oulyono hod. shared it with him. ,'At daybreak leath er Brihain rose according to custom, and went to say his prayers at a neighboring church, ilotniming from his sacred duty, he met a beg gar, who. asked alms. “Alas, my friend, I have nothing” said tho good priest, mechani cally putting Ins hand into'his breeches pock et,.where, to.his astonishment, ho found some- thing hard wrapped up in paper, which ho know ho had nut loft thoro. 110 hastily .opens cd the paper, and seeing four half crowns in it; cried out that it was a miracle. lie gave the money .to the beggar and hastened to •church to return thanks to God. Tho enrnto soon after arrived there, and after Brihain re- lated the miracle with the greatest auction, tho cunitc.turned pale, put Ids hand his pack et, and in an instant perceived that Father Brjbain, in getting up in life dark, had taken tho wrong pair of brooches ; ho had perform ed a miracle w.ith tho curate’s orotyns,.' The Umrreu.a- —Tho umbrella lias been used from a very remote antiquity, as it is evident from carvings and representations found among ancient ruins, of Persia, Arabia and China, Nevertheless it was not used by men in England until during the last centu ry, and is said that Jonas Ilanway who died in 1780, was the first person who used au umhrolla ip tho streets of London. Even at that late period a .man carrying an umbrella was an object of ridicule, ami excite the Jeers of tho people by his “ effeminacy." Previous to the introduction of umbrellas, the eoach was the shelter of unfortunate pedes-: trians who happened to he caught iu _ a show, er ; but it was customary, after their intro duction, to keep a single umbrella at each of the coffee-houses, which, in cases of emer gency, was lent, together with a boy to carry How to Fouuive a lliv.u.. —Resolve that you will love and wish well to the man who has failed. Go to him and get acquainted with him ; if you and ho are both true men you will nut find it difficult to like him, It is' perhaps asking too much of human nature to ask you to do all this in the case of the man who has carried off the woman you loved ; but as regards anything else, do it all. Go to your successful rival, and heartily congratu late him ; say frankly you wish it had been you ; it will do great good to him and to yourself. Dot it not bo that envy, that fast growing fiend, shall bo suffered In your heart for one minute.— Boyd. 035“ Life is a continual struggle after that which wo cannot take with us, riches ; which seem given to ns as the nurse gives the child a pretty ornament or shell, from the mantel piece to keep it quiet until it falls asleep, 1 when it drops frim its helpless hands, and is replaced, to please other babies in their turn. BQyr A grocer advertises in the following manner: '‘Ham and cigars, smoked and un-. smoked.’ 1 . O'An Indiivn-rubber omnibus is about In bo invented which, when jam full, will hold a couple more. ' [ty Ignorance is a much more quiet, man ageable, and contented thing than Imlf-kuopvli edge, NO. 47.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers