“OUR COUNTRY—MAT'IT ALWAYS BE EIGHT—BUT, RIGHT OE WRONG, OUR COUNTRY.” . ~ •• ' ' ======;::^BB 49. . ; CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, OCTOBER 23 ' * ’ ' ' * ■' ’• ' " VOL. y)lKlilCAlS,-VOLUNTEER. every Thursday morning by JOIIW B. BRATTON. TEE M S SrT^cnii’TTON.—Ono Dollar and Fifty Cents, paid -jtifiirn'o ; Two-• Dollars if paid within the-year;, X'vo Dollars and Fifty. Cents, if-hot paid within ’ •iii, V'.v.v. TJ’oao .terms will hp rigidly adhered to in „ v ,. r ‘ Y ' No, subscription discontinued until 4 ii ;uve»’ruyes,aro paid unless at ; tho option of the Apvi:'.r’'H«unNTB cash, and •iot oho square, will ;be inserted throe (imo? for One DoHnr f .ahd cents for each *tl(!i'fclanal insertion..-Those of ia •greater length, in •proportion.’ , . , ■ Hand-bills, Posting-bills, p.viaphlets. Blanks, Labels, &c. «fcc., executed with a-vouracy and at the shortest notice.,, • * ftotfiral. ’ BY A GRAVE. Tallicr, father, hero Ilingor Years have passed since lust I oarao Thus to trace,.with faltering finder, On .this stone-your vahbhccl name ; . That dear mime—what dear lips told it name now named by none Did by.those—how.few!—who hold it , Dear as I, your lonely sou. • Father, father, Tara yearning* That long-vanishcdforni to see, That face that is but returning Dim, as in a dream, to mo; Few the years'that dear.faco blcssed lno Kvo it awed my childish sight, Father, no more to caress mo, . From its eolfin, calm and white. Then.hnt iis a child I wept-yod j Deeply as a child's heart can, In .its love my child’s heart 6 kept you, But no more than now I’m man. Not as much.! 0 early pined for, Father, o’er whoso grave X how. See. with tears these eyes are blind for Those dear eyes that see mo uowl Yes. tha t boo mo ; oh, but dearer, •but more loved us years depart, Hus not death but drawn us nearer/ Ever closer, heart to heart! •Still amid day's thoughts, night's dreaming, I have seemed to feel you near,- Guiding, guarding, to my seeming, . Me, your child, who'mourns you hero.* Vos. while hero your dust is sleeping, ' 0 pure soul, these lips would kiss! Y'tu aro in some far World keeping Watch’o’er those ypiu loved in this ; Soil my evil thoughts controlling,. - Joyiiig iu my earthlyjoy, , I have lull you, griyfconsoling, Warning, strengthening mo, your boy. '0 from empty ppnccbcforc me, Father dear, that you might athTtl ‘Might now bund that dear iaec o’er me, Andlook love iutomy heart ! - Bin not to those eyes; while livihg, oimll.that blessed lost- look come-; nnru wovda to mine are.giving; •: ; • eviu'dumh, I'liaU T not hereafter know you, 0. tny father, yet again ? \i :;. (o l.hc.-o shall show you "'hen I J'-iivt* nib's Joy and pain; •' V>':'!i t-'u; Mix of fhnpodimg parted, 0 iimv rlii'r’.'d'od, 0 how-sweet, 1- i!io tl.mi-rht (s(ni then glad-hearted. Father, fafiitijt, wo shall moot?. '■WlKl.il, 111 1 IIIVINIi SEEN, WE LIIVE. It.is easy to lore when eye meets eye, Ami the glance reveals the heart;, n the Hush on the-chcek can the soul bespeak, Aii.l (hi) lips in gladness p-iis ; .Thi iv’s a thrilling bliss' in a loving kiss, ’ . \o.J a spell in a kindly tone, Ai- l (he spirit hath-.chains of tenderness ■ • Te letter and bind Us own. Jh:l n holier spell and a deeper joy For a purer fauntiinflaw, hTicn the sopl sends higher its incense fire, And rests no more below ; AV’hen the heart goes up .to the gate of heaven, And bows before the throne, And striking-its harp for sins forgiven, Calls the Saviour all Us own. . Though wo giL-’.o not. on the lovely brow That fed for ns the thorn ; though ahir frum home wo pilgrims roam, , And o\iV feet with toil are worn; ’ iiiough y. o never have pressed that pierced hand, It is stretched our lives above; And wo own his care, in grateful prayer, “ Whom, not having seen, wo love;” AVe have felt him near, for nvmy ft year, When at eve wo bent the knee, That mercy’s breath, Hint glorious faith, Dear Saviour, came from thee, n hen wo stood beside tho djnng bed, T And watched the loved,one go, -n the darkening hour wo felt bis power, As it stilled the waves nf woe. 113 wn climbed the hills of time, ■ 't^ o hnhps of earth grow dim, »Vo are hastening on from faith to sight/ pro are pressing near' to Him ; j, a y frdm idols of earthly mould, Enraptured we gaze above, A u ul! n?,to w^uro h* B arms enfold, whom, riot having seen, wo love." a neighboring city at a lecture, a Ror.tleman, the modest man of his sex, no rss polite than modest, was sitting in a now TO her remote trom the light. A pretty girl TOt next to him. Looking on the floor du ring the lecture, he espied what he thought ires the lady’s. handkerchief, the hioo trim ining edge just vissihle from tinder her dress, turning to his pew mate, he gallantly whis pered, “you’ve dropped your handkerchief, .wiidam,l" ami .before she could reply he proceeded to pick it up. Horror! ho had sized the end of her pet—skirt, and did not 'scorer his mistake until the top of a gaiter ?” sr Med him in the face; and a feint sound nipped in the bud by the ap- I ntKui. o f a real, handkerchief warned him 01 ''is mistake. • A kin E ' V Solution.—Not long since a cor unci 'lf* 10 l° s ked ns wise as an owl, "Dno, r , OS M b ? 006 * l ' B patients thus: tliinlr fi 0 us .liowit is wlien we eat and '■ Wl.f, eilt 18 se Parated from tho drink?” pills , y ,!; oll y° u -" Bn 'd the learned man of h rn ' *" u 300 88 * low there is in tho nook am) n,I 03 ’,, 0110 them to receive tho moat pipv;:v r“ ,c , d,,ink - At I t, ' 0 1 *°p «<■ this nin,, 1 ’ c, appor, and when wo cat when ! B l|uts up the drink pipe, and P'lio . 1 't turns back upon the moat pm-am °V aw °f ‘notion. Queer np nec m8 to m assure you.” " But Doctor, it when » n 1 , , t . 1 " 5 olappor must play sharp w « oat pudding and milk. .Act t,j| a | v °! tDl ' vn . to t * le United States census, the .hi, B T V ‘. 1 '7 m 1600 was nearly $90,000,'000: '■‘"veil in ,o >, *‘H° shaded silk, must bo cci v ,i Ils 1111 Nituutions, or its color will do- d!.,n ’' VARD ’ fum >erly Mayor of Pitts u* *ast wooki THE INDIAN WOMAN’S LOVE J ln thftt'parfc of tho mountainous region of Oregon I known ns tho Ynmill county, lies a small biit hedutiful volley, surrounded by a high chain of hills that gives it that picture esquq character which is often found in the scenery of the Pacific const, and on which the eye. rests with pleasure. This small valley -is wholly foirorilar in form, about two and a half trifles in diameter, with a rich soil, well watered, the Yamhill river flowing nearly through its centre, with one or two flno.oretskij which make down from tho niountains to aild their waters to those of the clear sparkling Yamhill. It is only a few years since tire dark skin nod. natives of the mountains claimed this charming spot as their own, in fee simple—a title which they possessed by occupation, from time immemorial ; and it was a favorite resort for the tribes livirig In that 'vicinity who bore friendly relation to each other. It was to the;n a land < f Egyptian plenty, for the moose and. the elk, the deer and the an telope ranged in large herds over tho.beauti ful valley, affording to the Unsophisticated sons of the forest notorily a storehouse of food andiraiment of their skins, but the excite ment of the.chaso. The surrounding hills Were Covered with majestic firs and orks, which gave them tho means of erecting cabins, comfortable for them during tho winter snows, arid fuel to protect them against the cold. But this calm security, this inertness of life, could not last ,forever, and a. cloud was lowering over the heads of the devoted red men, which was to (burst and sweep them; in time, not only from this mountain paradise, but from the earth it self. The white men cariio, and when did the two races dwell in harmony together?— The stronger rules tho weaker, While the lat ter gives way step by step until ho an ay'be compelled to relinquish all—home, friends and criuntry—and us eventfully swallptyed Up' in the great changes of the world; till even his memory is forgotten. The Indian yields to. the vices of the white men without learn ing his virtues, while hew and dissolute hab its, with the curse of fire-water, soon do their worst, and shortly the bones of tho, Indian, face lay unmarked and unknown in their na-. tire homes. When the whites made their appearance in this part of Qregon, they found the natives to be much-superior to tho Indians.of Califor nia? ’'Without' being civilized they were more advanced than the Digger tribes, forthoy built houses of wood and. clothed themselves warm ly witli the skins of the animals they killed in the chase ;. they wore fairer in complexion, 'braver in war, arid more intellectual than the natives of tho south. - . ■ < , Subsequently, when the Americans became possessod-of the country, and the power of tho Indians faded, before tile march'd the An glo-Saxon, race, this beautiful-villey was set off by the government as a reservation, where such tribes as obose .to come within tho folds of paterriargovernment might do so. Seve ral tribes iveru givtbßred„jjhdi;B.. Individuri's ufjtfißiri adopted too .fiioile 'Vif living of tho whites, and worked, planted and reaped, as they were .taught; bu't by. far tho most were, hangers on, indulging in the vices of their conquerors, making tho problem a doubtful one, if this dark muss .of humanity wore fc ally more happy, or better off, (or themselves, than when.they raised the wild mountain, or the blooming valley, as lords of tho soil. Hero are now congregated portions of (he Olackatna, the Tnwotojy, the Umpquas, the itogne River, .and'Kulliipooya.s tribes, arid it remains to -he seen what the effect will boot bringing so many, together, some of which, in former days, were in open hostility to each other. - , ■ ' It is at diiis point that Fort Yamhill is lo cated, and at this time, July, 18G2, is garri soned by.soldiers of the United States. The relations existing'between our people arid the Indians of the Reservation are of a "peaceful character,' and, a free comrimuieatiou exists between.them. A short time ago, only a few weeks since, the surgeon of the regiment was strolling in tho valley, enjoying the beautiful and grand scenery of the surroundings, and with a good deal of interest visiting tho villages of the dif ferent tribes congregated there ; he called ut the cabin nf one of the principal chiefs, and asked for a drink of water. ' An eldprly but fine looking’lndian . presen ted him with a cup of tho pure, coni, spark ling element, with a hearty good will which might become a citizen of the refined world. "Drink,” said lie, “it is as cool as the moun tain snows, and as pure as the Spirit of tho Hills.” Tho intelligent look of the speaker interested my friend at once in his favor. While the neatness of the house and its appa rent comfort excited his surprise, anil ho complimented his host upon his appearance. "Yes replied tho Indian, in his own lan guage :Wit is botterthan shivering in the win ter cold in our old house, and it is batter to raise the.good tilings of life in the ground rather than seeds of the wild grass on tho plairis. White men are great, while the red man is weak. We are children beside them-, arid they teach us much that is good, witli much that is bad. But all Indians will not learn good. Some like tho shadows of the hills . and the darkness of the forest—they keep tlieir spirits in the shade, away from the sunlight of tho white man's knowledge.” “Who are you, that talks so much like the white man ?' asked the surgeon, in surprise, “indeed all the Indians are not like you.” The Indian^ straightened hims-lf to his full height with dignity, while he slowly replied, as if with conscious pride, though with some thing of native hyperbole: “I am great with my people. I ,am the great chief of the Yamhill country, I am Fir Tree of the Mountains. My spirit is with the clouds; ray strength is with the cougar. My bow was (ought, my hand was strong, my heart knew no fear, ray enemies fled from my war-path—” “Great, arid brave, and good, you must be happy.” “Ugh 1 happy ? My heart is bailing in the furnace of the fiery mountain,” and his eye seemed lighted with strange lustre. “How I a man like you with trouble to op press his heart, with everything so nice about you ? Do not your wife and children make your heart glad f” Hiscountenance became agitated, and some internal struggle seemed heaving his manly breast. . Subduing bis emotion, he replied : “Stranger, do you think'tho red man has no trials? Du you think tho river of his life flows in a gentle current to the great, sea of death ? I toll you there are cannons, and falls, and rapids, and rooks for tho red man to pass as well as tho white. Tho serpent may come to his house, nnd his little ones be strong ; the cougar may Watch’ his path and spring upon -him or his chickens; tho tem pest may make his home desolate, and his camp-fires may ho extinguished forever. You look like a good man. Sit upon that stool and listen.” My. friend was fasoinatod by the chief’s manner as well as deeply interested, and he sat down to listen to on Indian’s tale ;■ I have a wife and children, and when I ■ look upon them, and forgot all hufthem, my , heart is glad. They are mine—l love them. But a thorn of cactus that finds its 'way into thp liandj be jt ever so small, rankles and fes- Jefs, and becomes a putrid sore. That thorn is in my heart. Nineteen snows ago, I had a bright-eyed little girl. She was beautiful ns the fawn, and. active ns the antelope. Her merry lifng'h. , teas like sparkling waters, and wherever she fii'teot, alLtJpags seemed glad, Shall-I tell you she Irved.'in myjheart? At last the.white men came with their wives and children.— They saw my wild Dower and loved her.—. Who could help it? The Great Spirit of the Hills made her to be loved. They Wanted to take.her.homo and loar-n her to be (i white woman, to be one of their children, to teach her to make the paper talk, arid to have the paper talk to her. I know white pedple were wise, that they knew all things in the world, and many things beyond the blue sky, and I was willing my girl should learn, and bo wise and great, ns she was- good. Seven shows had now passed oyer her head, when I gave my consent that she might go and live with' the white woman eight snows, and then she should come back to my arms and my heart. She went, and found a happy home with her new friends. She was their child . for the time, and they loved her ,ns such. They taught her all they knew, and she was their pride as well ns . mine. At last the eight snows came, and I called for Mona. I would have her with me. But my white friend said : • “She has motfe to. Team; leave her in my care two mure snows. I will send her to San Francisco, the big city, where she will see many new.things, and be. taught more than Te know how to teach.” Jt Was a hard strug gle, but! kndw the white people .were my triends, vcuid for Mona’s sake, I. consented.— The two snows came, dud < Mona returned beautiful dsih young doe. 'Oh I how my heart swelled'wiih; delight to look into her eyes. I could scftvc6ly;thin!c it was my child, my own darling,. And then she knew so much'. , She could'tell nothings in’the. blue sky thatl nev er heard of before. She could place the tall trees on paper as if they grew there, and she could sing sweeter than the mocking hh*d.~ My white friends would have kept hOr, but I had .waited so long that I would-not consent. I She was mine now,.and I wiluld have her in my own home. She came, and my cabin fire was a bright-one. My bird st?U sang and was happy. , . , , AFould you think of a tempest when all was bright sunshine ? I wtvra worrier. I had followed the war path against the.Clackamas, theCallapooyas, 'arid the TiUamooks, and I had: taken many* 'slaves. Among these I had taken with my own hand a young chief of the Callapooyas,' an active young brave of twenty-two -enOws. To do him justice, he served me well; be was among the first in the hut, and none sent the canoe forward with .a stronger arm; hut lie w as my slave. Only, a.io' .r moons nd: gone, by, after. Mmm’s rotutn. before Fsa\y sbeyfas engaged. She forgot her old father and moth er, and often wandered away alone. Sleep was not in her eyes, and Her tongue had- for got its office. Was she sick ? No. Was she contented wit.li my home?. Yes. Did she want a new dress? No. Would she -have other food ? No—all was.good,- I, leared she was ill, ami, would have sent for the white medicine-man. No, she was well. One day I was returning from tiro chase, ' hen in a cluster of nmnzanitas near my home, I saw her—my child, my Mona, my best beloved bird, iu the arms of niy slave. Had the fire of the clouds struck mo down ! Had I fallen from a huge ledge of rocks ! My head, turned round. -' I forgot that I was on earth. .All came to me then, arid rage 1 made me blind. I drew my ,buw—l never missed my aim—death was in my arrow.— They saw me. She threw her arms around the slave and cried,'“shoot him and you kill rno ; the same arrow shall us both W . $ could not kill her—she was my child—she was strong in my heart j but the slave—the slave to'steal my Mona. My arms fell to my side. My" ill-starred, my —my — oh, my beloved ope. me, threw her arms tightly around me,; and cried 1 Onmna, fly 1 I am, yours in life, I am yours in death. Fly 1 Oiimna. I’ll meot you.” The slave fled, like the coward he was, and,’ weak and faint, 1 was led by my child to my homo. She loved my slave—l talked to her ,as I could. My white friends talked to her, and wept. They would take her hack; she should live with them, and bo their child again. She should have clothes, and food, and love, such, as she had had. Would she come hack and make their hearts glad? With out a tear in her eye she took her white moth er s hand, while her eyes sparkled'like the stars. “My white mother and father, I love you as I love my life. You have been kind and good to nlealwuys. I-have wanted noth ing from you. And, my dark father,"'she continued, burning tome, “I am of your kin; I love you as my love; bub I can not go back. lam an Indian in my heart— pn Indian I was born, an Indian I will die, i cannot mix with the whites : their laws and customs forbid; and I lovo' tho wild woods and mountains better.than I love the cities and towns of, the white people*. And oh ! above them all, I love Omarm, slave as he is, better, aye; far bettor, than life: and if I would live for you, I will die for him.” Wlmt could we say, what could we do ? She would bo a mother, and.her child’s father was my slave. Why did tho spirit of tho burning, mountain heap coals of fire upon my head ? my girl beck to our home. “And your slave, tho husband of your Mo na, what became of him ?” **.Hn Ihoi ho 1 My braves had been upon his trail, and in n few days word was brought that the ■ wretch hud been found dead, his body suspended to tho. limb of a tree, with his flesh filled with burnt splinters, and the filthy turkey Buzznrds'wore having a glori ous feast upon a human body—Ugh 1” •' “And your daughter?” “She disappeared the day after tho word was brought. We searched and searched for two days, when at last onr path led to where the slave died. lie was no longer suspended. On the ground lay the lifeless form of my — m y-—Mona, and her arms clasped in the cold embrace of death the bones of my wretched slave.” BSf“ A shop keeper was asked how ho obtamed tho application of Utile rascal, and replied,‘To distinguish mo from tho rest of tho trade, who are all great rascals.’ Jorrold went to a party at which a Mr. Pepper had assembled all his friends. Jorrold said to his host, on entering the room, ‘.My dear Mr. Popper, how .glad you must be to seo all your friends mustered I’ 0* Adnm was fond of his juke, and whan he saw his sons and daughters marrying one another, ho dryly remarked to Eve. th"t-if there had boon no apple, there would have been no pairing. Gen. Ord’s Report of the Fight on (he DaUhie, In the battle of Corinth the enemy were tho attacking party. Tho iccond brilliant affair which conies from, the Army, of the West Tennessee, they are the attacking par ty. Van Dorn and Price, after being whipped at .borinth, make their line of retreat to , words what is called Davis’ bridge, across tho Hatchie, abdnt two miles from Pocahon tas. On their approach.‘.to- Corinth they crossed tho Hatchie, which is not a fordable stream, at Poctiliohtas and destroyed the bridge. They must cross riyor to make good their escape south, understand the, matter, the rebels had crossed the river with a portion of their forces, when Hurlbut attacked them and drove fhofn back, after a severe engagement, with heavy losses on both sides. The enemy ard'teo^eequ^itij-now on tho southeast hank of the .riyor, pressed by Hurlbut on oho side, RoseCrans on the other, McPherson on tho North, and the river to the southwest of thorn. It seems as though they could not escape. The following is.Geh. Ord’s report of the battle: . llospiTAt, near!Pocahontas, 1.- . October 5, 186:'.—6 P. M. , J Major General D. S. Grant: • s I joined'the columns anil toot comrimnd at ~i o’clock this A. ■ M„ and iouiul that Gen. Ilurlbut had driven in lbe ; enemy’s-videttesj and -had. skirmished considerably in the, af ternoon of the djh. I also found that’he made exoollentarrangeraeuts for the advance of to-day. -! About half a mile from our advance, first with cavalry, to which their infantry and.ar tillery in force were Soon ‘ added; the road, narrow and winding through swamp and jungle, and over ;preCipitppB ridges, across which 'iit'times the artillery was, with diffi culty, dragged by hand, w,nb one of the most dangerous to attempt in the face of an enemy I have over seen; , They "not advantage of every swamp and 'jungle far their infantry, and every 1 ridge.'for-their .'artillery, from which we successfully drovh them, generally at, the double quick, for five miles to and aeioss itbo Hatchie, at Davis’ bridge, over which and up to the .steep beyond wo pushed theni so rapidly that fheyt. had nut time to burn the bridge. In driving the enemy we took-two batteries and have, them, and at the river captured about 300 prisoners, among whom are field officers, arid an Aid-de-Camp to Gen. Van Dorn, who commanded the ene my. On account Of the'.fact that we had fre quently to attack ''across open fields arid up hills, whilst, the enemy ypro’ under dense coyer, we have lost quite a number of officers and men, and have several hundred wounded, probably a greater numhyiythan have the .eueiViy... Gen,.;¥eaoU badly cqn t.nsffd .by a ; spent, s fWyspJ him in the side.. ”■ - - , I will send you.a regimental list of killed I and,wounded as soon as they can bo brought In. Gen. liurlbut has cavalry in pursuit of the enemy, who, moved off th, the south about 4 o’clock this’afternoon ; our infantry which started from Bolivar at 3 o’clock A. M. yes terday, marching 2d miles, and to-day fight ing five miles over this country, uniler a fire at abort range for seven hours, beingtpo much , ’digued to pursue to-day; besides, it will ke until dark to bring in the wounded, The troops.in their charge over the misera ble bridge at Davis’ Creek and up the steep beyondy exposed to a murderous fire of sholJ, grape and canister, with three of their bat teries playingupcm them at canister range, that, wherever their officers dare to lead them, the then will go. Gener als Hurlbut, Vench and Laumun, the former commanding the division, the latter two bri gades, did not confine themselves alone to their duties ns commanders, but'did every thing that men could do to make victory com-: plete. , To their respective staff officers I must, also, add ray sincere thanks for the zeal and energy with which they discharged their arduous duties throughout the day. To the officers of the line and the men, from what I have scon of them tp-day, 1 can only say that should tie fortunes of war continue them un der my command, ft will.bo niy pride to win their confidence. .Gentryeach pushed the enemy with great vigor jiiilnd success in front until then forces were so much increased that it became necessary to bring up onr re serve under command of o.en. Lauman, which I ordered at once, whereupon tho enemy were driven from their last stronghold, Gen. Lauman showing, by liis coolness, energy and courage, that the front was his proper place. Gen. Hurlbut has reported to mo that he has gathered about 900 arms already, thrown away by tho.enemy in their retreat, and ex pects to collect a largo number to-morrow. — The names of 589 prisoners have already been registered, and they are still being brought in. From the nature of the conn try over which we fought, it is impossible to ar rive at any accurate estimate of the number of the enemy, but this may be inferred from tho mimber of arms thrown,away, the quan tity of their artillery; and the foot that a por tion of their forces engaged against ns were not at Corinth. Guns are heard to-night in the direction of Corinth. Gen. Ilurldut will push forward early to morrow morning, as it is presumed General Rosoorans is harassingthercarof the e iemy. My personal staff—Division Surgeon S. B. D.ivia, Cant. Sharpe, and Lieut. Brown, A. D, C., and Capt. Hotaling 2d Illinois Caval ry, and A. D. C..—-wore, by turns, Colonels of regiments or Captains of batteries, cheer ing and leading the men through the thickest of the fight. They always took the shortest lino to danger oh tho field, and were always on hand when wanted. I ooirmond them to tho consideration of the government. E. 0. 0. ban, Major General. Tub Noise op Battle. —The roar of a con flict, where three nr four hundred cannon are belching forth destruction and death, can be faintly imagined by tho following statement: Hcrsohel gives three hundred and forty miles os the greatest known distance to which sound has been carried in the air. This was when tho awful explosion of a volcano at St. Vincent's was hoard at Doraorara. Tho can nonading of tho battle of Jena was hoord in tho open fields near Dresden, ninety-two I miles, and in the easement of tho fortress it I was very distinct. Tho bombardment of I Antwerp, in 1822, is said to have boon heard in the mines of Saxony, throe hundred and j seventy miles distant. The Pennsylvania Coal Trade. Tho lie high oannl has'boon repaired, and is now again open for navigation. The first boat loaded with coal sinoa tho freshet passed into he canal atMauch Ohunfc on the 20th ult. ..-*i 1862. STEPHEN L DODGLdS. I'ljO Chicago Times, indignant at the effects of the Abolitionists to appropriate any,share of Judge Douglas’ lame to advance their vile purpose, revives the following, winch took place in the Senate of the United States on the 25th of March, 1801. -.The ‘Republicans had just passed territorial bills, which con tained Judge Douglas’ great principle of popular sovereignty, (since repeated, howev er,)-whon.the Judge -.remarked- in a playful manner as follows to the previous presiden tial campaign. Said he: . : “ That is a very good policy—a much wis er and better ono than T bad expected or hoped for Irom a republican administration. I no not. know that I should have made as great efforts to .defeat them, if I had thought they would have acted with as mucli wisdom and patriotism. • - “Mr. Clarke—you did not defeat them. “ Mr. Douglas—No ; nor would I have made ns great efforts to defeat them. “ Mr. Clarke—You did us no harm. . “ Mr. Douglas.—lf I did not defeat you it was not my fault. I used my best efforts to do it. " Mr. Clarke-‘-you could not quite come “ Mr. Douglas—l could not come it, and you see the consequence. Seven States are out of the Union, civil tear is you, commerce is interrupted, Confidence des troyed,. /he country is going-to pieces just be cause i could not defeat You I, No, man in America believes these consequences would- Imvo resulted if-I .had been successful.in my efforts to defeat .you. You can boast that you have defeated mo, butyoic have defeated y,-ur country with me. You can boast that' you have triumphed over me, but -you have triumphed oyer the unity of these ’Stales. Your triumph has brought disunion, and God only knows what consequences may grow out ■of it,” This was on the'2sth Of March. In the en- suing April the rebels attacked Fort Sumpt er, the President issued his proclamation de : daring the existing rebellion and calling for seventy-five thousand volunteers to suppress it, and the war commenced. It was on the Ist of the ensuing May . that,-in Chicago, Douglas made the last public speech of his life, in which he said : “We cannot close our eyes to the sad and solemn fact that war does exist. Thegovern ment must be maintained, its enemies over- thrown ; and the more stupendous our prepa rations, the leas bloodshed and the shorter the struggle. But we must remember certain restraints on our actions even in time of war. We are a Christian people, and the war must be prosecuted in :a .manner recognized by Christian nUtidris. ~' . ■ “ W E.MUST NOT INVADE CONSTITUTION AX. rioutsY 'The'innocent-must nn'i siifer, nor wo-. ] men., a. i? I must «itl .hcYffclqesCt.* But .while- J; sanctioft Ino wo. it the. rights of others I wiH implore my Ci A trynio'ri not- to lay down their arms I nn.Ufofa»recognized. . . f I “ Til d. pONSTITUTION- ANI) ITS-auABANTBES* I AM READY TO ENf . I FORCE Tlt/iiv INALIF.N ABLE RIGHT TO the. last extent. WeXciiniiot recognize secession. Re cognize it once, ami you have not only dis solved the govermont, but you have destroyed social order, upturned the foundations of so ciety. You have inaugurated anarchy in-its worst form, and will .shortly experience -all- , the hoiTors of a Yrench revolution.” This was on the Ist of Hay. At the expi ration of another month he was dead, and these were his dying words : “ Tell them to obey THE LAWS AND SUPPORT THE CONSTITUTION.” We know nothing more monstrousthan that Abolitionism should undertake to appropriate Douglas to its present use. His whole life, not more than his dying breath, was a protest against Abolitionism; and no statesman so clearly ns he forsqw its culmination, and so often and earnestly wnTned'the country of it and besought it to avert it. ‘ When again Abolitionism shall dare to outrage the memory of the dead statesman, let .his last injunction repulse it: “Tell THEM TO OBEY THE- LAWS AND SUPPORT THE Constitution.” Horrible murder at Harrisburg. A terrible crime is reported in the Harris burg papers us having been committed there recently. On Friday evening a little girl, about 5 years old, daughter of Mr. Emanuel S. Gorman, was missed, and on Saturday morning it was ascertained that the child had been seen early in the 'evening passing up Second street in company with a man, a stranger to those who met him. All day Saturday diligent search was made, without success. It was renewed ou Sunday morn ing, and some gentlemen who visited what is known ns Wetzel’s swamp, within a short 'distance of the city, were startled and horri fied to find the little one they wore in search of lying upon her face in the woods, a mangled corpse! A terrible wound was found on the deft side of the neck, severing the main arte ry and fracturing the right jaw bone; By the side of the deceased lay a bundle of candies, with which her fiendish murderer had no doubt enticed her to accompany him. The wound was at first supposed to have boon in flicted with a Pistol ball, but on a post-mortem examination, it seeihs to have been the work of a knife or other sharp instrument. There are various surmises as to the per pe ratbr of this most infamous, horrible and unparalleled prime, and the motive the could have induced it. Many are of the opinion that it was committed by an escaped lunatic from the Insane Asylum, some of the inmates of which institution occasionally find their way into the city. Others are disposed to attribute it to a penitentiary convict who had threatened vengeance against Governor Curtin, or some other member of his family, fi~“ /or refusing to pardon him, and that he ah ducted Mr. German’s little girl, supposing her to to bo a daughter of the Governor; A mistake of the kind might have occurred, as the families live in close proximity, and the children of both have been intimate associates in play. The following is an accurate description dt tho supposed murderer, furnished by those who saw him in company with tho deceased: “About twenty-five years of age, five feet eight inches high, slim built, thin face, dark hair, dark complexion, rather sallow, smooth face, wore a soldier’s cap very much faded, a blue blouse and old dirty grey pantaloons, torn about tho bottom of the legs.” Several persons wore arrested on suspicion; but on being confronted with those who had seen tho murderer and mjt identified, were re leased. Tho chief detective of Philadelphia is on the spot, at tho Governor’s request, and will use all possible means to discover the murderer. Governor Curtin, by proclamation, offers SI,OOO reward for tho apprehension and conviction of the wretch; BOTH BARBELS INTO 'ESI ! If old Squire Price had any one bump of phrenology developed more than another, it was corvicijc, or kill-cfowativeness. From corn-planting to husking-time, from ■■ dewy morn until evening more than due, ho might 1)6 aeon dodging 'behind . fences, 'crawling around barns, stalking alongin the high grass, 'with a long single barreled old gun, trying to get a shot at tho black thieves of crows that were forever at work on his old, sandy farm. ■ “ What cause have you, my aged friend;” Brother Ilornblower . once said to him, “ What cause have yarn to molest these birds, as “ toil hot, neither do they spin ?” “-T tell yer what," answered the Squire, shaking his head with savage jerks, “ come down to my house ary morniii’ airly you’ll hear cnies/” Brother Ilornblower smiled grimly and walked gently away, after that, to get the evening paper at the grocery-post-office. He his face, against jokes—unless they 'were serious ones. Whether it .was Brother '.'Hornblower’s words, or more crows than usual, the neigh bors around Squrio Price’s farin' were regaled for two days after the above talk, with such : constant explosions of gunpowder that it was surmised the Squire must have bought “ a hull kag o’ powder, and gptgsamo feller to I help- him shoot..’ The congfifuenoo of this energy wait, that the persecuted devil’s-cana ries flew away to other farms where powder was scarce—-first and foreniogti.desc'ending in flocks on Brother'.llornblowbwSi-'lhifds, and j digging up his young porn-—it was in the month of May—until even he found epuse fo go at these birds as don’t spin ;,for he found out that they toiled most laboriously. Being a man dl peaceful disposition,, and opposed to the use of fire-orms, he thought over apian by which fife-logs might bo risod with great ad vantage to his oivn benefit, by destroying a largo number of crows at one fell blow. llow he succeeded in th'is/c?? T bloW,'wits told a few evenings afterward in the grocery-post-office,, by young Tyler, a .promising youth who. bad' not, as they say of other sad dogs, “ quite gut his set yet,” that is, attained completion in figure and carriage. Seated on the edge of a barrel bait-filled with co.ro, and . cutting a piece of pine-wood to one sharp,point only to be followed by (mother sharp point, ho wits talking,tn-another youth in a desultory man ner, about his intentions “ to'go by water," in old Bizzle’a schooner, next trip she. toot when Squire Price came in to gpt his daily newspaper, The Beantown Democrat. “ You bin givin’ them crows partickier hail,' hain’t you, Squire ?" asked Tyler the youth ful. ' ' “ Wal, about as much as they kin kerry," answered- the -Squire., They; Imiu’t bin squawkin’ round my prem’ses none to speak of lately.” , “ They bin round Brother Hornhlowcr’s thick as poison, though,” said Tyler, “lie counted on killin’ ’bout a milyon on ’em yes terday—on-ly ho didn’t quitobome it." ■ " Thought he wouldn’t never fire no gnus at ’em !” ’i ■ • . • - - i.' . “ Put a couple o’ barrils into ’em yester day." . “ Why, how you talk! Yon don’t mean ?” I " Honor bright I-He got a big travers on ’em—leastwise, thought ho had. His briudle kiiow,' she got pizened night afore last, down there in tlife woods; couldn’t do nuthiii with bei, and she died same-night. So he o-oos and skins her, and throw’s her out into that gully,down there, back.o’ Bizzie’s wood' and say ho to me—for I was over there workin for him—says ho, ‘ There'll ho a power 6’ crows onto hort’ rnori-er, and ,1 eaii’lafe I’ll , .fix a few on ’em—l will !’ So next mornin’— that was yesserdny—we went out bright and airly, and rigged up a kind of blind at the side of the gully, right over the old carcass. Then wo got our aramunishun-all ready— both barrils all loadid.” “ % ,I'hg I” said the Squire, rubbing his bands, “I wish I’d bin there.” “ Got all ready. Purty soon up comes one crow, sails .round and round, then two or three more, then a few more ; they begun, to smell meat. Then they flew lower and low er ; bime by one settles onto an old dead ce dar and begins cawin’ for dear life. Then down lie comes, then more and more of’em. Round they come, cawin’ and flappin’ their wings, clouds of'cm. Guess there was 'bout two hundred settled onto that old know." “ Wish I'd bin there with my gun !’’ spoke the Squire, intensely excited'. “ A feller could have made tho must biggest kind of -a shot." “ Wal, we waited, and waited, till the old kaow was black as pitch with ’em. Then Ilornblower he nudges mo. Wo got barrils all ready—big loads in ’em. ‘ Fire !’ says he. I braced my leg up again my barril ; he bnlced his leg up agin bis barril—’’ “ W-w-wliat said the Squire. “ We give tho most ail-firedest shove—and over we wont, barrels, stones, dirt, and gravil, liead-fo’ most, spang into them crows and dead know! I toil you,-for about five minutes I calc’lato I never seed witch fuss, feathers, dirt, and gravil and kaow-beef flyin’ as I did then. Things was mixed up most promiscus sly, you can bet yer life on it ! Bimo by I o’ come to, and when I raised up I found 1 was .sittin' onto four dead, crushed crows, Brother Ilornblower, aud kaow-ineat gin’ ral ly. So I dug. out and lifted up, the game— Brother Ilornblower first off. AVhou ho citin' round a little says he : “ ‘T-T-Tylor, I con-caivc somotbin’e give way’bout those parts I’ , . “‘-You air about 'fight in your suppoati shuns,’ saya I; ‘the gravil banks bustid, dud it’s a marcy wo an’t ip kingdom ktim !’ “ ‘ Don’t talk, that way,’ says bo; ‘ lot’s go up and firp a cnpplo barrels more into the blnstid rebbils, for vengenz.’ _ , “ ‘No yer don’t, tin’s rnornin’, as I knows on’, said I; ‘l’ve got enough sliootln’crows, you fashtin. Noxt. tlmo Igo shnotin’crows i ’long any boddy, I’m goin’ to do it Christian-.) | fasliun, with gumbarrils. and not blastid old flour-barrils filled grovil. That kind o’ sheetin’ don’t suit thy style o’ bonfes— ’ ape shally hottd fo’ most inter a dead kaow 1’ ” “ 6n-ly lilur orowt kiltl” paid tho Sqnro, with n groan. “ To think what a feller might have done, if ho had only have spread hisself judishualously as ho came tumblin’ onto ’oip spang i WnlT” ilopking chooringly to young Tyler,) “you cohldn’t do moro’n fire both barrils into ’em of they was flour-ban-ils, could you?” —Continental 3{■ ‘'lity. Ikon Gunpowder.— ln tlio your 1850, Mr. March, an able ohemiat connected with the royal arsenal, discovered that it is an invaria ble rule with iron which has remained a con siderable time under water, reduced to small grains, or an irapalnple powder, to be come red hot, and ignite any substance with which it comes in contact. This he found by scraping some corroded metal, from a gun, which ignited the paper containing it, and burnt a hole in his pocket. The knowledge 1 of this foot is of great importance, ns it may : account for many spontaneous fires and ox-i plosions, I - _ ; BREVITIES. . tflso and Ollterwisf, Hunger novfer saw bad bread.- ;t Nothing ilrips sooner, than a tear. The man who can put up stove pipe with out swearing has loft town. . , , Don’t fret on account of bankruptcy.— Ydur creditors will do it for yoq. Daiigh at no man for bis pug nose; yoil . can nevor tell what may turn up. • Thocall to religion is not a call to bo better than others, but bettor,than yourself. Pipes are taking fho plnee of cigars.— Meershaums are all the rage just now.. Men. bo faithful , to your country and your God, and a sure inheritance awaits yon.. In raising volunteers we not only skim pop population, but we take the cream of it. . Drops ■ of rain brighten the- meadows,- and little drops of kindness brighten the world. Prentice says the night cap ■ would bo the' cap of liberty—if it were not for curtain lec tures. Birds are the poor man’s music, flowers the poor man’s poetry ; and the rich man has no better. • Now, why is a needle in a haystack like glue.?a Because you ouh easily find it in a horn. . The Irish definition of‘an open -counts nance, is -not a bad one’: ‘ A mouth from ear to ear.’ Surely that man may, bo envied who can eat pork chops for supper, and sleep without a grunt. When may a than be said to-be ‘ dressed ip borrowed plumes?’ When ho is tarred and feathered. ■ , , Almost every younglady is public spirited enough to have her. father’s house used as a court-house.. ■ It is fortunate for Fortune thatshe is Wind; else she-might blush to behold the fools sho patronizes. , . ; . Modesty and the dew love the shade; both of them sparkle in the light of earth only to ascend to Heaven, Of all ignorance,. that which it} silent is-tha mst productive, for praters may suggest art lea, if they start one.' -.- '. Though the proverb says you cannot make an augur hole with agiralot, jyet a small man may make a groat bore. .. Since the demand-for lint became so great, many of tho very best ladies of the nation have got into,a scrape. . Ho who truly wishes the happiness of any one, cannot .be long without-discovering some mode of contributing,-to itj Mrs. Partington paragorical of a- person, than to bo all the time flinging epitaphs at him.’ ‘ Nonsense,’ cried the deacon,’ ‘ the prayer, hook knows hotter than you, I should think, or it wouldn't teach to say m-menl’ Wise men are educated by reason ; men of. less understanding .by experience ; the most ignorant by necessity; and the best by nature. Kindness is stowed away irt the heart like rose leaves in a drawer, to sweeten every ob ject around them. J An excellent grammarian gives it as ,4 reason whya.bldwleayes.a .blue, mark, that;;) blow in tho past tense is blow. •>" ■ -,v / Wherever Morgania guerrillas go,, the reb ols got relieved ,in their feelings, and the Union men in thei-r purses. ‘I am surprised, iriy dear, that I. have never seen you blush. ’ ‘ The fact is, bus-, hand, I was born to blush unseen.’ A man in London is going to have his life insured, so that when he dies he can have something to live on and not bo dependent on the cpld charities of tho 'world as ho once was. „ An editor soys the only reason why-his house was not blown away during the. last gale, was because there was a heavy mort gage upon it. : . . , . , A woman is a good deal Ijke.W piece' ofivy., Iho more-yon are ruined, the bloscr she clings :o you. . A, wife’s love don’t begin to show tsolf tiil the Sheriff is after-you. Sectarianism, when carried to extreme?, is a ipiscyabld short-sighted prejudice. Itma'kea you hate your .neighbor, because .he cats hig oysters roasted when you prefer them -in the shell. A poor soldier, in a hospital at Nashville, Tenn., with both iegs shot away, had a tract given him by an exemplary colporteur, upon the .“Evil Effects of Modern Dancing.”— Doubtless he will mind it. A waggish doaonn overheard a schooi-mnrf ter giving lessons in grammar. ‘ You canniit place n, tho singular article,’ said the pro ccptor, ‘ before plural nouns. No one caff say a pigs, a women, a—.’ . .... ■ : .Envy increases In exact proportion with fame ; the man that makes a character makes anomies. A riidiantganius calls forth swarms of peevish, biting,, swinging, insects, just as the sunshine awakens the world Of flies. I A minister, who had been appointed chap-' lain in an Ohio regiment, lately wrote tho following note to a Mother preacher: “Dear, Brother—lf you can get a oommishun as a chaplain, it will pay you.SSty a monfhand liyin, beside.. The caus of krist kneads yu in his army.” An apothecary's boy was lately gent to leave at one house a box of > pills, and ah another six live fowls. Becoming; confused on. tho way ho loft tho-pills where theffowla should have gone, and tho fowls at the pill, place. The folks who received - the-.fowls were astonished atreading the accompanying directions :— ‘ Swallow one every two-hours.’ In a new raised corps, a soldier observed to his comrade, who was an Irishman, that a.- corporal was to bo-dismissed from the regi ment. '‘Faith and indeed,’ replied thelrish-. ' man, 1 1 hope it is the corporal ’.who is so troublesome in our company.’ < What is his name ?’ asked the other. * Why. arrah, dear honey, it is corporal punishment,- to bo sure.’ An Englishman boasting to ah Irishman,.' that porter was meat ond drink, and soon af terwards becoming very drunk, on return ing l homo foil into a ditch, where Pat dispovorba , him ; and after looking at him for sonic time, exclaimed, ‘ Arrah, my honey, you isaid it; ■ was moat and drink to you By my soul } , it is a much bettor thing, for it is washing I and lodging too !’ NO. 20
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers