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'A C ' .... ,,, ti' • . . -:, ~;-. - ~,,• • = 4, 1 , ...' ........ ~ ~........: 5 'T........... 22::„ Z s • .... v. ,.r.c.. .....:.......,;--_, VOL. &1. AMERICAN VOLUNTEER. fOBLTSniD SVBRT THURBDAT MORNING BT JOHN B. BRATTON. TEEMS Subscription, —Two Dollars if paid within tho n, a rj and Two Dollars and Fifty Cents, if not paid tho year. Those terms will bo rigidly ad ‘•fccrod to in ovory instance. No subscription dia :ootinuod until all arrearages arc paid unlbss at the option of tho Editor. Advertisements —Accompanied by tho, cash, and ,aot exceeding, on9„pqm»ro A will bo inserted three times for $1.6’0, and twonty-fivo cents for each ‘Additional insertion. Those of a groator length in proportion. (, Such as Hand-bills, Posting-bills ftmpblcta, Blanks, Labels, &c. Ac., executed with ocuracy and at tbo shortest notice. |Wcal THE SONG OP TII%RAVEN. BT C. ROBB; FIRST KENTUCKT-. [Wbon tho Army of the Cumberland rctoolc tbo field of battle of Chickamauga, on tbo 27tb of No-' vembor, hundreds of our dead of tho baltlo of tho 19th and 20th of September lay upon tho field, still ualmricd.J A raven sat on a blood-stained atono Aud peeked away at n fleahleaa bone, Singing his song in a raven tone, That echoed wild afl a spirit's moan— War! "War! War) Then ho flapped his wings and hopped away Over tho ground of tho dreadful fray, In search of a more nutricious prey, Shouting aloud his ominous lay— • War) Warl 'Warl Still flapping hi* wings he hopped around To a noble form stretched 6'n tho ground. A human frame oa an ancient mound, Still shouting aloud tho doleful War ! -War! War ! Then lighting there on tho hero’s breast, Where a form of beauty once found rest— '"Where a fond affection oft was blest— Ho cried as he plunged his raven crest—' Warl War! War! Soon the mouldering flesh was torn apart With a raven’s skill and a raven’s art, Till tho evil bird reached tho heart, Crying again with an angry start," War! War! War! Tho hcaffthtit had once co proudly heat In tho quiet homo or tho busy street, With the hopes of life was a raven's moat? : \iucd was the song with tbo morsel sweet— War! War! War! "When IhftTt'l moon lighted up tbo cast, Tlio bird of song prolonged hia feast, I >\ ilb bis idle time from tfatan leased, Aud hoarsely croaked, liko a savaj:o benst— T r iir ! ’War ! Vwir'l ‘And rrith a fiendish pride bo sank his beak Tearing (bo flush from his mauly cheek, 'Swallowing still each quivering fleak, Whilst tho echoes caught hia angiy t-briok— *Var! WarJ -War! Dicn lifts his bead of tbo blackest dye, Tho blood-stained beast strikes the'hero's oye, And in echoes reaching to tke sky, Sull hoarser eomos tho raven’s cry— ® kVar ) War !. tVnr'l ’ Tint chock, Hi fit oyo Hint so kindly smiled, With s loving trust so pure and mild, To bless, perhaps, a wife and child, \Vas food for tbo bird, with song so wild— TVnr! TV n’r ! TVnr! Mkelbimm, A STORY FOB THE LITTLE FORKS. TTIE ‘TLOIv-Iflia 111 TIfH WINDOW'. A- little, thin, tired, wistful face, looking] out of tho window —the tack window of the j tall, narrow, old ho'oso on Water j street. . ...... • Certainly there was nothing pleasant or attractive in the view which presented itself —nothing which could awaken any light in tho sorrowful face of tho'child who looked at \he scene. There were the back yards, with the little strips of sodden clay soil, Where -the pale, eicklydooking grass grew sparse and scattered; find then there wore tho backs of the hpusosj close and cluttered, frowning &*nd mouldy with Ago and neglect. .... . You had to stretch your neck get a Rlimpse of the blessed sky from the. window; there wore no soft green vines, to clothe ths barrenness and' decay; no flowers whoso hearts thrilled out into bloom and fragrance fur a living joy and beauty, as flowers always are. The old houses leaned over, with their Rattling windows and broken blinds, with flicir dead-brown faces, dreary as any prison 'wall, and I think that the.lace of this little ftrl grow drearier ns she gazed. She was. hardly out.of her eleventh year, 'aed her face looked pallid and sickly, with large, brownish eyes that hold' sonm trouble ln them, and seemed old beyond their time ; wd the modth had lost its trick of smiling, if it ever had one, and had eottled into a kind °f sorrowful patience that is Very pitiful to 808 in children's faces. Ilopo Loring was an orphan. Two-thirds $ her life had fallen to her ip th’e country. She was a delicately organized little croatpre in soul and body ; shy, sensitive, susceptible. .She would never have gained her tenth birthday, if it had not been for the free, care loss, out door life of the woods, and hills, and to.cadows, in which her widowed mother had flowed her only little daugher to run at her sweet will, while tho toother stayed at J’onio, as mothers will, toiling eftrly and late , to keep that wolf, so terrible to a woman, hem the door. But the strong arm and the loving heart that would have made “sweet home" for the Mother child, were still under grass of jnmmer, or-snows of winter. And at last, the mother's* was still there, too; and with er seventh birth-day, Hope Loring wds an orphan. , So she foil into tho hands of her mother's pniy brother, a ■poor man, a hard-working, ot not Unkindly end, who had more mouths 0 feed thdn he could well afford; but h,o °°uld not let his only sister’s only child go starving arid shelterless otit into the cold of n ° So, the little, lonely, wistflil-facod °u,ntryo;irl dame to live witbiH the thick, *toso wans o f tho great city. •She dwelt ad orphan and an alien in her uncle’s family. Nobody there meant to bo unkind to her j in a certain sense each mem ber was sorry for the little homeless, father less, motherless child; but after all, none understood her. Poor people these wore ; cramped and fret ted, and soured and oppressed by poverty.— The long, wearisome hand to baud struggle with toil had worn into tho soul of Hope’s undo and aunt, and hardened and made them somewhat cqjirse, and tho children wore cqarse too; indeed hoys and girls ranging down from their toons into, babyhood ; quar relsome, selfish, dissatisfied,.with their lot, and not knowing how to make ’if better —to be pitied certainly. And ihto this atmosphere with all its dis cordant elements, in the 'heart of the hot, noisy, crowded city, ohnio little Hope Poring. She had carried the homesickness at her heart, in her face over since. How she thirsted and starved for .a sight of tbo cool, dark meadows, with the dandelions winking golden among them. What visions haunted her fields of rod fragrant clover, with the fresh dews sanded all over them. How her heart grow sick thinking of the 'flinging birds in tho groat white roofs of ap ple blossoms; and tho little brook which -snarled its skein of blue waters among tho stoned,.and -then, -cleared itself out, broad, smooth agatd, and wont on, singing and tri umphant to tlio river; and tho shady country lanes, and the -old brown roads wandering past the hulls, find up the'hill, and round tho •creek, and back of the'faeadows ; oh, hungry eyes, oh, hungrier soul of little Hope Loring, that went aching and crying -for these lost joys in tho dark, high ch'amburVCrowded be twixt tho thick walla where your‘life’had fallen to you. . • , (> But suddenly as tho pale, wistful face looked out of the window, a change camop-vcc it like a burst of sunlight. „A little ..color warmed tho thin, palid checks. The brown eyes grew dark and warm'with a quick amazement and joy. “ o—h, see there 1” burst in a quick cry from tho tremulous lips. And there, in the window of tho opposite house, stood a small glass pitcher crowded with flowers ; roses in a red lire of bloom, and fragrant mignonette, and trailing sprays of honeysuckle, and fuschia; these, some hand—a small white hand had just placed in ’the window opposite. - Hope knew in a moment that it was a 'otrangor’s, -some Visitor's probably, ’for she had heard tli’at tho widow woman who did work on the ‘bowing machine had boon ill.— The lady down there tnust have, caught the child’s exclammation, for sUe stepped to tho window and looked up.'and saw.the small, eager, delighted face above her. She was a lady to whosd hcaH tho way Was short and cany. The sight touched her. , , “ Do you love flowers, my chilli ?” she said to Hope, and tho smile with which eho said it was beautiful to see. “ Oh, yes, ma'am I" said Hope Loring; and something in hoi voice doubled tbo assent in her words. “ TV oil, come down hero, and you shall have sumo of these.” And Hope went, and her heart and feet wore light, as they used to bo going down tho meadows ■ for dandelions and daisies. And tlio gcnl le-faccd and swoet-voicod lady gath ered from tlio glass pitcher some of the fair est blooms, and placed them in the thin hand of the child, while the woman who “worked on the sowing machine” lay asleep on tho bod. “ Oh, they are liko tho rosea round our porch!” cried Hope, bending down and drink ing thoir breath, sweeter than wine. The old fragrant Scent was more than she 'eotild boar. She broke down in a great storm of'toars. Tho small, thin figure shook under t'husobs v’hioh heaved it to and fro. All the ■pain and homesickness, the hunger and bit- teniess of years were in those sobs. I’oor child—poor little girl,”'said the la dy, and she smoothed.Tlopg’s hair with hands 'lilte the dead mother’s that were gathering dust; and, then when thVchild had grown calmer, sho made her ait down on the 1 little stool at her feet, had won from her the story of her little life. •. ,■ ■Hope hold nothing bade. Sho found com fort in telling it all; in her simple, straight forward child’s way, little dreaming what, a wonderful philips her words,gave bpr.story, and how ,tho listening lady almost shuddered ns she felt the chill, and” gloom and hnihe sickness which the child described stealing, in a sort of magnetic sympathy, over her own soul. , . , . ; . .. i ■■ , The lady had money and all life s ease and luxury at her command. Sho was in mid life, and had, but t\vo children, and those were hoys, a iit’tlo older and a little younger than Hope., • ; The hpmVoif, Mss. Hastings was in the city, but sho usually passed about half of the year with her sister, ryho had n charming cottage homo in the .country. And it entered into tTTi'e heart of Mrs. Hastings at this moment to take the little lonely orphan girl,with her, and with a swift impulse jiho, said to her—,, “ Next week I am going into,, the ..country, to ‘pass tho summer amid the hills, and birds ft nd flowers. My child, would you liko to .go with me.?", • •.s 01), ma’ani I” said Hopp. i believe she Stopped hero. • Four days had passed. , Mrs. Hastings had seen Hope’s aunt and undo, and obtained, with no difficulty, their consent to Hike the child with her. They considered the offer of Mrs. Hastings an ospcoml “Godsend, for they had felt it was “ high time that, their noioo should do something to help herself; but she was such a small puny thing that they hadn’t the heart to put her at it. •So one afternoon Mrs. Hastings called with her carriage, intending to take Hope homo with her, and make some improvements in her wardrobe before she could accompany lior to the country. Hope’s aunt mot her at the door frith a face singularly troubled and fl 0“ The child has been very ill,” she said.— “ The doctor said it is a bad case. She must have had d slow fever in her.veins for a long tihio, and d shock and excitement of some kind, too great for her weak, over wrought system, has utterly prostrated her So Mrs. Hastings went up the stairs to the small, dark chamber, whore the child lay, with her little thin face paled and sharpened tor “ Hope, don’t you know me ?” asked Mrs. Hasting, tenderly. A swift light flooded the weary, eyes. , “ Oh, yes, ma’am, you are the lady who had .the flowers in the window.” , • , “Well my dear child, you must make haste and get well, so as to go with me where you shall have birds and flowers at every oiither thin, hot hands and shook I,C “N™'l shan’t go with you,” she said, “ I ttm going where I shill have flowers prettier than those in the window forever. I shall "OUR COUNTRY—MAY IT ALWAYS EE RIGHT-RUT RIGHT OR WRONG OUR COUNTRY.” boo them and walk amongst them, and they will shine on me all tho time. I am going to God and my mother.” And the gentle lady and tho weary, toiling aunt wept to hear her. And Hope turned to the lady, and her parched lips smiled joyfully— STJiero are no brick walls there,” she said; “ and I shall have the green fields always.— It is bettor, oven, than to go with you ; tho’ that seemed Heaven enough before, fiut I shall not forgfit you, and sometime, perhaps, I shall know you again—tho lady who set tho flowers in tho window.’ Mrs. Hastings watched the child the rest of the day. That night tirpd, over burdened soul went out on that path which wo must all walk—one by one. They gathered about tho little, still, dead (jape, and murmured that it was “ too bad” just as joy and happiness had fallen into her life that she must die. They (iid uot know what they said. Hope had 'gone to the, warmth and bloom "of the eternal summer, to,tho little children’s best home, the peace and jrepdpm, the rare and love of God and His angels, and these arc wiser and tenderer than even a mother’s.— Arthur's Magazine. LAW AND MANNERS GN THE lillAD, All of us have ideas more or less correct, in regard to tho. law which regulates our use of rtho highways ; and, at any rate good sense and good nature are usually very safe guides. A few words on tho subject, however, may notTm a miss. • , , ; ■ ■lt is commonly said that every one has a right to half tbo road. This is practically true, and comes.about in this wise : You and I meet upon the road—our legal rights are exactly equal,and both have right to uur own qeypfaj ways, without obstruction, so, popu larly, Wo;cay ‘I own half and you half. The law steps in to facilitate matters, and directs each to turn towards his right hand. The road should ho wide enough for two teams abreast,• } ea { Qlvmh,n has a clear title to a passage on his right hand side of the way ; and no ope has a fight to obstruct another while on hia own proper track.— This’is true whatever tho load or tho team ; for if one can drive such a team that another can pass him but with difficulty or not at all, then their rights are no longer.equ/i1.,,/Thin point becomes very important in winter, for it is no joke to turn your horse and all into tho deep snow while yohr neighbor goes smoothly along in tbo beaten.path.. Mo one has a right so to load hia teari? as not to bo able to give-up half tho tract to whoever de mands it. . -d. .. A footmfeh ‘may, choose tho part which pleases him or any portion of bis right hand half tho why and the team must yield it to him. This is'clearly so in winter, and no man is obliged to qtop into tho snow for one or two horses. This is tho law, and the •Court awards it. Now for tho manners of tho road, which, in some instances, vary from the law thereof. The first requirement of road manners is good nature and an accommodating spirit.— Do to others as you would have,them, do ,tp you. Always be willing to yield moro than half the epfioe, then you will bo pretty sure to be equally well treated. They win) exact inches will have inches exacted of them. ‘lf your neighbor hqa-a heavy.lodd, consult,his convenience as.fqir 'op ’ppsaiblo’; yoh .pmy sdmetime be loaded’. It jufs become a prac tical rule of cmirtesy to turq out for wood and logs, and for other heavy teams in wintci* for they say, “ we often oapnct turn out and nev er safely, so, if ydu want..v/ood, accommodate us which wo are very willing to do. But remember it was a favor, not your right, and you have a reciprocal duty to perform, opq which, I am sorry to observe is not always born in mind. When you have unloaded and are returning empty, just recollect that you had the whole road in tho morning, and it is no more than fair that.yod should bo partic ularly obliging to those.whom you meat now’ end give them their full.dharo of the path, One word in relation to .teams .going the same way ; in which cqpo many jigem.to tiling there is neither law nor manners, .*yiicn..a team conies up behind you, which dcnire.i to proceed faster than you do, the team jia-s a right to-a reasonable opportunity to pass in—‘fn fact to half tho, road for that purpose—/and your obstructing him in his lawful.desire is botlKbad.manners and bad jaw, If your load is heavy, do tho best you can. In most cases the very least that can be asked is that you stop. This is particu larly bo in winter, when it is a heavy tax on a team to force it into, a trot in deep snow— made necessary by your continuing at a walk. My remark above in relation -to tho emptied yvood/sTed applies hero, and if one wishes to pass you, romembor that while loaded you had tho whole road. . . . .. . One remark more, to and for tho ladies. —- First,.to them.. If out walking keep in tho path—never stop into tho §now or-mod for any,ordinary team, if you meet tho team, step into ypur right hand track or part of.lhe road -and all goes on easily.. If '.the team comes up behind, step into your -left-hand .track ; then, as sleighs are built, tho horse ip 'the other track, as beforq. a Whereas, if you continue in your right-hand trftok the horse or tho team must.travel wholly in. the deep snow in order to pass you and the driver will be tempted to ccold his wife as ftrosy for tho : female sox.generally.,, s. - X hn,v<i to say lor .tho ladlps —always turn opt for .themi . They tire entitled to the yight : hand half, and will you run over them .be-, cause',, ih ; their, confusion at meeting one of tho “lords of creation,”.‘thoy happen to take their .‘half out of the wrprig side? . ... . , > ... I close this somewhat lengtjiy dissertation with an appropriate aphorism Wheel grease is a great lubricator, but good manners are a vastly greater one.— Claremont (#. 27.) Ea gle, ~ Poverty’s False Pride.— A religious con- | temporary says very justly: “The idea of ■ respectable employment’ is the roek upon which thousands split, and shipwreck them selves and all who depend on them. All em ployments are respectable that bring honest gain. The laborer who is willing to turn his hands to anything is as respectable ns 'the clerk or dapper store tender. Indeed, the man who is .ready to work whenever work offers, whatever it may bo, rather than lie idle and beg, is a far more respectable man than one who turns up his noso at hard la bor, wearies his friends with his complaints because, ho can get nothing to do,, pqcke'to their benefactions without thankfulness, and goog oh from day to day a useless, lazy grum bler. [C7* The Abolitionists don’t want the conn try as it was. They desire a new nation.— And so they go in for miscegenation. (£ 7“ It is considered to ho cool to_ take a man’s hat with his name written in it, simp ly because you want bis autograph. CARLISLE, PA., THURSDAY, JULY 7,186 L CLOTEBSON, THE MORMON. A Romance, By Arlemns Ward. THE MORMON’S DEPARTURE. The monr.ng ori which Reginald Gloverson was to leave Great Salt Lake City with a mule train, dawned beautifully. Reginald Gloverson was a young and thrif ty Mormon., with an interesting family 11 of twenty young and handsome.wives, His un ions had never been blessed with children.— As often as once a year ho. used to go to Om aha; in Nebraska, with a mule-train, for goods ; but although he'had performed the .rather perilous journey many times with en tire safety, his heart was strangely sad on this particular morning, and filled with gloo my forebodings. i , . . , f . : The time fur his.departure had arrived.—■ The high-.spirjked-mules were akthe door, im patiently champing their bits. The. Mormon stood sadly among his weeping wives. ‘ Dearest ones/ ho said, ‘ I am singularly sad at heart, this morning; but do not let tills depress you. i The journey is a perilous one but—pshaw I I have always come back safely heretofore, and why should I fear ? besides, I know that every night, as I lay down on the broad starlight prairie, your bright faces, will come to-me in my dreams, and make my slumbers sweet and gentle.— You Emily, with your mild bluo eyes ; and you, Henrietta, with your splehdid black hair.; and you, Nelly, with your hair so brightly, beautifully golden ; and you, Mol lio, with your pheeks so downy; and you, Betsy, with your wine-red lips—far more de licious, though, than apy.wino I ever tasted —and yon, Maria, with your, winsome voice ; anil you, Susan, with your—with your—that is to say', Susan, with your —and the other thirteen of you, each so good and beautiful, will comrt to »nft 5 n o w not drAomo, twill yon not, Beareatiata ?* 1 Our own,’ they lovingly chimed, wiirr And so farewell !' cried Reginald.— ‘ Come to my anna, my own V ho paid, 4 that is, as many of yon as can do it conveniently at once, for I must away. lie folded several of them to his throbbing breast, and drove sadly away. But be had not gone far when the trace of the off-hind mule became unhitched. Dis mounting, he essayed to . adjust .'the trace; but ene ho had fairly commenced the task, the mule, a singularly refractory animal snorted wildly, and kicked Reginald fright fully in, ,the stonn\d!;. ..arose with diffi culty anil tottered feebly towards his moth er’s house, which was near by, falling dead in. her yard, with the remark, * Dear Mother, I've corno home to die !' * So I see,' she said : ‘ Where's the mules V Alas 1 Reginald Glovcrson could give no answer. In vain the heart-stricken mother threw herself upon his inanimate form, cry ing, ‘Oh my son—my son ! only say where them mules is, and then yon may die if yon want to I' In vain—in vain ! Reginald had passed on. FUNERAL r -RAPPIN'fiS. The mules were never found. Reginald's heart-broken mother took the 1 hotly homo to her unfortunate son's-widows, i But before hey arrival she discreetly sent n ] boy to bust the news gently to the afflicted ' wives, which ho did by informing them, in a ' hoarse whisper, that their, * old man had ■ gone in.'. . 1 The wives felt very ba&y indeed, ■ *•' . ‘ * lie was so devoted to me,' sobbed Emily. 4 And to me,' paid Maria. .* Yes,’ said Emily, ‘ he.thought considera bly .of you but not so much as ho,did of mo * I say ho did 1' * And, X.aay he didn't.!' ‘ lie did !’ ■ ‘ lie didn’t 1’ ‘ l)un’t look at me with your squint eyes I' * Don’t shake your red hond atvme/’ , ‘ Sisters I’,.said the blaojt-hnircd Henrietta, *.cease this unseemly wrangling. I, as Re ginald’s first wife, shall strew flowers on his grave.' , .- * Jsp you toon*it* paid Sqsan.. ‘T, as his last wife, shall strew flowers on his grave. — It’s my business to strew V - .. 4 You shan't, so there I' said Henrietta. ‘You bet I will V said Susan, with a tear suffused cheek. , . ‘ W.oll, as for me,' said the practical Betsy, ‘ I ain’t on the strew, much, but I shall ride at the head of the funeral procession 1' , - ‘ Not if I’ve ever been introduced to my self, you won’t,’ said lb's gpldpnjbatrod Nel ly ‘ that’s mv position. You bet your bon net-strings it is T .... ... . - ‘Children,' said Reginald’s mother, ‘you must do som.Q crying, you know,,on the day of the funeral; and how many nookekhand kerchera will it. tube to go round? Betsey, you and Nelly ought to make one do between you.' ,••• . - 4 I'll tear her eyes out if sho -perpetrates a sob on my handkorchcr I’ said Nolly. 4 Bear daughters-in-law,' said Reginalds mother, 4 how unseemly is this anger. Mules is five dollars a span, and overy identical mule my .poor boy had has been gobbled up by m). men. % know when my Reginald staggered into the door-yard that howas on the. Dio, but jf I’d thunk to qsk him about them mules ere, his gentle spirit took flight, it would have been four thousand dol : lars.in. oKr.pqokct.B,.an.d..»p mistakeJ Excuse those real tears, but you’ve never felt a pa rent’s feelin’s.'_ n . . . . u, 4 It’s an oversight,’ cobbed Mann. * Hon t bhiine us 1' The funeral passed off in a very pleasant manner, nothing, occurring to mar the har mony of the occasion'. ~13y a happy thought of Reginald's mother, .the wives, walked to the a. breast, which ,rendered that hart of the, ceremony thoroughly impartial. r » » * » ■ * * , * That night tho twenty wives, with heavy heart, sought their twenty respective couch es! But no Reginald occupied those twenty respective couches—Reginald's head would nevermore linger all night in those twenty respective pillows of those twenty respective couches—never, .nevermore! , s *4* * ' lit another house, riot many leagues from the llouso of Mournings gray-haired woman was weeping passionately. . • lie die 4 she cried,’ • ho died, without signorfyfn m auy respect, where them mules wont tol Two years are supposed to elapse,between tho third and fourth chapters of this original American Romance. , . ■ A manly Mormon, one evening, as the sun chapter r, CHAPTER IT. 'chapter lit DUST TO DUST. CHAPTER XV, MARRIED again. was preparing to set among a select assort ment of gold and crimson clouds in tho wes tern horizon—although for that matter tho sun has a right to ‘ set’ where it wants to, and so, tapped gently at tbodoor of tho man sion of tho late Reginald Gloverson. The door was opened by Mrs. Susan Glov erson. *ls this tho house of tho widow Glover son?’ the Mormon asked. ‘ It is/ said Susan. 4 And how many is there of she V inquired the Mormon. 4 v Therois’about twepty of her, including me/ courteously returned tbo fair Susan. 4 Can I seo her?’ 4 Vou can I’ ' i .. ' Madam/, ho softly said, addressing the twenty diecopaolato -widows,‘X .have scon part,qf you before V -And although X have ,RlrGady..,twenty-fivo wives, whom,,.! respect an<J care for, I can truly say that I never love’s holy thrill till I saw thee I Downline —be mind! ho enthusiastically cried, 4 and wo will show the world a striking illustration of.tljo, beauty and truth of the noble lines, only a-good deal more so— 'Twcntj'-nno souls with bnt a single,thought, Twcxity-ono hearts that beat as one.' They were united; they, werol .. j Gentle reader, does not the moral of this romance show' that —docsU not, in fact, show that however many there may be of a young widow woman, or rather does itnot show that whatever number of persons onc.woman may consist of—well never mind what it shows. — 6njy this writing Mormon romance is confu sing to the intellect. You try it and see. The Tower of Babel. —After a ride of eight miles, we-wci*e at the footuf Biers-Nim rood. Our horses' feet were trampling upon tho remains of bricks, which showed hero and there through the accumulated dust and rubish of ages. Before our eyes uprose a - a. , c . u., -\ This was IV.ors iNimrood, tho ruins of tli,o * tower of Babel, by which tho kri?t buiUlcpa I of the earth hud vainly hoped to.scale high ! Heaven. Here also, ib was that Nebuchad nazzer built, for bricks bearing his name have boon found in the ruins. At the top of the mound a great mass of brick-work pierces the accumulated soil. With your fin ger you pan touch the very bricks, large, square shaped, and massive, that were “ thor oughly" burned; tho yery mortar, the slime, now hard a? granite,,handled more than four thousand years ago fcy earth's impious peo ple. -From the summit to the mound, far away over tho plain, we could see glistening, brilHftjit, as a star, tho gilded dome of a mosque, that caught and reflected the bright rays of tho morning sun. This glittering speck was the tomb, of the holy Ali. To pray at some period of Ins life; to kiss the sacred dust around ; there at some time or other, to bend his body and count his beads, is the dxiily desire of every devoted Mohammedan. —Letter in Ulackwood. ‘ wo Taste in Eves.— An eye fancier in a Wes tern journal writer, thug, learnedly of the mys teries : “ It has often been said that a woman with a hazel eye never elopes from nerhus band,.never chats scandal, novel’ sacrifices her husband’s comfort for her own, never finds fault, never talks too much or too.little, is always an entertaining, agreeable, and lovely companion. ‘We never knew/ says a quill .driv.or, ‘ but one uninteresting and unamiable woman with a Imr-el eye, and she had a nose, which looked, as. tho Yankee says, /Hko the little end of .-nothing whittled down to a point.' Tho-gray is tho sign, of shrewdness and talent. Great thinkers and have it. In woman it indicates a better hqad than heart. The dark hazel is the noble significance, as in its beauty. The bine eye is admirable, but may be fee ble. The black eye, take care 1 Look out for the wife with a black eye ! Such can be fl.oen at the police office ; generally, with a complaint against the husband for assault and battery." Cowards.—An army correspondent says that within tiro past week lie has seen some ton or twelve cases of self-mutilation by sol diers desirous of getting to the rear. These cowards shoots themselves, through the hand, selecting generally the second finger of the right hand, and then go back to the hospital in hopes of being sent to Washington with the wounded. The surgeons having noticed the recurring. frequency of these, cases—as the character of the woundv'burncd apd dis colored, with- powder, was sufficiently indica tive of their origin—they rcportcd ; the mat-- ter to headquarters, and ,tho delinquents in future, ( arQ v to.be pnt upon the skirmishing lino. It is customary in ordinary cases to put the patient under chloroform ; but as a punishrnent to the coward, the surgeons now perforin amputation of wounded lingers without any anesthetic. tiZFMr. Gustave 'Aimord has written a book, inwhich ho describes the‘priests of Chili. Tho recent catastrophe at Santiago gives intercut to his descriptions. lie says:« 44 With the exception.of tho minor grades tlfo., monks arc jolly fellows—smoking, drin king, shearing, and making lovo as well as a ipftD oT the world. It is not uncommon to see in a wine shop a fat monk, with ared face and a cigarette in his meuth, merrily playing the vihuqla.aa dance accompaniment to .a loving opupie; whom ho will confess the.next morning. Most ot the monks carry their knife in their sleevo,-nnd, jn a quarrel, wluch is a frequent thing i.n Chili, use it qs wpll, and with as. little remorse, as tho first comer,. — JSqch. ar.o.tbo p.enple ; and such are theprio.-t-i, who form a fourth of poplation, in the coun try where tho great human burning tcck place.” . .. , • * .. Jjgy-The human race is rapidly dying out. Our loyal friends call thoir opponents brutes, boasts, copperheads, black snakes, pto, hike to know whoro you’re going to End yorir irien pretty soon. A map named Lewis, is .-under arrest in Philadelphia for an attempt to murder his own,.sister, agpinst whom he had conceived an extraordinary hatred. tC?” 1 Whvia a printer and a pretty girl alike.?” “ They both make impressions.’ 1 — “ Kow what’s the difference between tbs im pressions ?’’ Why one’s on paper, and one ■on tho heart,” , (£7* The abuse wo get from Abolition pa pers reminds us oit. the well known truth that a pig, after wftliowing in filth, generally chooses a clean person to rub against. Lou isville Journal figi- The shoonakor who made a. hoot for tho foot of a ladder, is socond.cousin to the hatter who made “ tile’’ for general intell igence political. [From the New York World.] ABRAHAM LINCOLN. An editorial biographical sketch of Presi dent Lincoln, printed, a day or two since, in the Tribune % is exceedingly meagre in that part which covers his congressional experi cnco. The period was brief, it is true, and Mr. Lincoln made hut one speech, which is preserved. That effort, to which our con temporary makes no allusion, was on.the ques- tion of reference to an appropriate committee of President Polk’s message to Oongrecs.-r- Tho dato was January 14, 1848, and the i speech was written out, revised by tho author, and published in pamphlet form by Messrs. J. &S. Gideon, of Washington. Wo desire to com pleto..the,-record of Mr. Lincoln’s pub lic life by extracts from, and comments on, this extraordinary document. - The speech v/as made during the war with Mexico,, jwhich, for tho prompt accomplish ment of the, purposes for which it was waged, demanded all the moral and material efforts if our government. Allegiance, loyalty, fidelity, alike required that President Polk should not bo embarrassed bv mere partisan opposition. All these consido.'ations.howev cr, did not restrain Mr. Lincoln from indul- ging in an arraignment of President Polkj which, in malignant, unpatriotic, intent, equals anything sq.id of the present chief magistrate by the most vituperative enemies of his policy. Qnc of the prominent points in the speech of Congressman Lincoln, to which we are now inviting attention, was the true bounda.- ries of Texas, and in discussing that point much consideration was given to exposition of-the legal relations existing, according to the speaker’s convictions, between a poopld A A-:- <ru n -- *• .P J coin’s opinions on that subject is contained in. the following extract, which preserves the words in italics contained in the pamphlet copy revised by the author: ** Any people, anywhere, being inclined i and having the power, have a right Ic rise up and shako off Iho existing government, ami form a new one that suits them better. .This is a most valuable* a tost cacred right, which wo hope and believe is to libciato the world. Nor is this right confined to cases in which the whole people ot an existing government may ghepao ito exercise it. Anv portion of such people that can may and make their own of so much of the territory as they inhabit. More than this, a majority of any portion of such people may revolution ize, puting down, a majority , intermingled with, or near about them, who may oppose their movements. Such minority was pre cisely the case of the Tories of our Revolu tion. . It is a quality of revolutions not to go bv eld linos, or old laws, but to break up both and make new ones." : , Apply those doctrines to the facts of the southern rebellion ! To make rebellion right ful, according to Mr. Lincoln, there need ho only " inclination" and “ Power.," on the part of “ any portion" thcrc.of. There need nob ho even a majority. A minority, with “ inclination' 3 and poorer," a " bacuepuigiit 1 to “ revolutionize," and ,f make their own of so much of. the territory as they inhabit.” If Lincoln had been, from boyhood, the wise counsellor,, sound lawyer, and profound poli tician the 'Tribune would have ns believe, and not a mere vulgar, jesting, 1 ufThon demagogue, playing upon the passions and unohastened prejudices of those about him, who shall deny that the confederates, having the “ inclina tion" and “ power," simply exerted “ a most valuable, a most sacred right," when they fired on Fort Sumter, p.nd sought to, make their own of so much of the territory as they inhabited ? . . .. • / Read, again', the following extract from Mr. Llncoiu’s carefully-considered speech, and say in what the rebels are not within the saving’cfficaoy of its doctrine 1 Any peogle, anywhere, being inclined, and having the power, have the right to rise up and shake off the. existing .Government, and form a new one that sdits them better.. But this is not all. The Speaker, not con tent with laying down principles, went on to apply them.- Ho says: , . T Texas revolutionized against Mexico -In my view, just ao far as sho carried her revo lution, by, obtaining the actual, willing or unwilling’, submission of the people., so far the country was hers, and no further." “ Actual submission" settles.all question of right or wrong of rabblliun, and ousts tlie authority of the government rebelled against. Actual submission, .then,Knf the . people I f Alabama is, so far ns the Worth, is concerned, conclusive that that state belongs to the con federates, and. can bo. transferred by thorn to tho Emperor of tbo French, or to any oth er power. . .1 If. it be said, in defense of tlir pitiable non sense of this speech, thatit fitly cjprmo-js tho superficial views then ontoi taintd at that time by many ignorant people in tbo United States, who were running mad with tho idea that tho,people had all rights and govern ments none, we reply that the suggestion makes apparent how unsafe it in to trust the conscience or judgment of President Lincoln in any matter involvfng the public wcltaro. It shows that Mr.. Lincoln looks downward to the uneducated, .unenlightened, and vic tuals fur inspiration or guidance,, and not umoqyd to the intelligence and virtue iff tbo I republic', Ho follows the lowest strata of public opinion, ami heeds,pot .tho jvtss and good men-vrho-follpiv-tlio-, suggestions of statesmanship.., Ip a word, the,speech Irom which wo (junto cannot, fail, ; if measured by proper . jests, to satisfy,. any. unprejudiced mind tlipt.lVir., Lincoln is a more superficial demagogue.,. .it. is this, shallowness of mind which led him, in tho outset, to be a convert jo. tjie dogma that destruction of slavery was necessary to saving of tho country. It was that which made him tho candidate ol the Black Republican party. Ilis virtual pledge tq extirpate slave labor was the price of ins pflloe, and his obligees insisted upon the pen alty ol the bond. His ignorance, it may be, made him a willing bondsmen, but fanatic ferocity, like that of John Brown, entered 'largely into tho case. All this made him in dorse the •refusal of the peace convention of 1801, in Washington, to make concession and compromise; which refusal,at last provoked the war. it made hi,m. when, war had bal ded all his prophesies, next fall down on his knees to the representatives of. the, border States, and.humbly proffer projects of com pensated emancipation, When those digni fied statesmen pointed to the Constitution, , and reminded him of .his oath of office, ho n"-ain in despair moved.his armies. 'When ■ war "had once more conliised all his reckon ings, ho threatens the South.with servile in surrection, and tho North with marshal law. ■ When the South lights on more resolutely I than ever, expedient is brought put,, which is - to bring North and South al’ko into the fold of abolition. This last image was the mea- sago of 1862, promising gold to the South and the exaltation of Black Republicanism tc the North. The country has seen the result of that effort to buy emancipation. It shard the fato of the previous effort to compel abo lition by threats. Finally came the proposi tion to amend the Constitution,,which, like all its predecessors, assumed-'that, without extirpating slavery, the Union cannot be preserved, and is not worth preserving; and which also failed to consider that abolition >'f slave labor would notbo sustaining, adminis tering, vindicating -the Constitution, but changing and subverting it ; that it would be to reverse the. judgment of the fathers as to the compatibility ot free and slave state *; to dissolve the fabric ; and to cut loose fr ml •all our moorings. 00/ihe last proposal of "Black "Republicans is the.same to our mind as it would bo if some Duperficlqrj religionist, saddened and confused by the polluted moral atmosphere about him. and the perverse refusal of his neighbors to obey, God'fl/,righjteou.fv laws, should, as reme dy for thio-oia and guilt which was hurrying all to endless woe,, ask the Almighty One to add another and additional commandment to the decalogue. . ... * ... ... • - We implore our countrymen tn rise to a true perception of their fallen condition, and io the pathway of salvation. The government our forefathers established for us has been platformized to death. .Let us return to the Constitution* and banish into outer darkness the superficial demagogue whoso jesting, jib ing tongue, amid our awful sorrows, betokens the presence of a buffoon and something worse 1 IS MR. LINCOLN A CDFFOON ? The Tribune , which notoriously has deem ed the nomination of Mr. Lincoln one nut lit to be made,, now that his nomination is an accomplished fact, is driven by party discip- i;«« ». ■personal merits of the man wkcci.ijt and of laboring, .JG: bin intsrest, to disprove concerning bur. what it knows to be the trtj h,. It is contended to ipcct the charge thpt ho ie a buffoon, by proving that he is not “ au ap* 1 , a hyena, and a jackass,” as ho is called by the ribald rebel press of Richmond. It is satisfied to parry just estimate of his person al character and deportment by arguing that no such man could hayo been elected Pres ident. The American people are like him m the stocks whose friends, said, ‘‘you cannot for that offense be put in.the stocks." l “ Rub lam in the stocks," was the reply. We have got a buffoon for a President, and that is the answer to the argument that “ in a democra cy based on popular suffragqs" a buffoon can not be elected President. Argument about our institutions is shut off. Mr. Lincoln is X , resident. And wo leave the Tribune to de fend American institutions for having per mitted the election of Presidents inculpated by itself for much worse crimes than being buffoons.. That Mr. Lincoln, by his own unaided en ergies, bus worked bis way up from obscuri ty and pennilessness to the highest.station in :Ue land, proves the possession of abilities which we have never denied to him. That ho is a buffoon to-day, as ho has always been U what wo assort, and vMjat the SfVtfmnehaa not squarely disproved nor squarely denied. It is exceedingly painful to,us to use such plainness of speech concerning one who ia the chief magistrate, of this people. It would bo indecorous if he were not, as bp is, ,a chief magistrate seeking rorejoctipq by all, moans ; striving by abuses of military /power, by the subversion of freedom of ballot, of the press and of political discussion, by the corrupting power of 'public ‘plunder, by the distribution of offices and spoils, by cunning and by in fringuo, to grasp for another term the powers with which ’in three short years he has al most .accomplished the independence of the South, and the subversion of the liberty of the No.tb. - , # . € , If to prove publicly, therefore, now, po crisis of our politics and of the nation's for tunes, that Mr. Lincoln ie a buffoon, i. e , “ Q. person who makes sport by low jests," will I revent any number of votes, no .matter .how few, !r»m being pastfor-hi§ re-election,.then that proof is p.public duty ; and more ques tions of decorum must stand aside as trivial 5h I untimely. . . ‘ . • And noa T for the proof that Mr. Lincoln 'is a buffoon, we appeal to every man of good sense and intelligence whom public or private duties have taken to the White House fre quently during the last three years. Wo appeal to all the gentlemen on the Re publican side of the United States Senate: Wo appeal to the one hundred and fifty clergymen who went in a body to the East Uo mi. in order to present to Mr. Lincoln the resolutions of one of the largest and moatre spcetable religious donomin itions. v - . **., * Wc appeal to the eminent divine who was deputed to make their address, and .who has publicly ami repeatedly pronounced the Pres ident’s deportment of a *‘ bu.ffuonr.nd a gawk so sickening in its and so hu miliating. to his patriotic pride, as to have made him quite despair of the fortunes of a fepnblio whose helm is in end) htunls. l .* f Wo ,appoal.to, the gentlemen cm the‘Re publican, rile rf the House of Jtcprcscntatvea. Let the Trib\:r.c ask them what is the fact. Wo appeal to tho blackguards thever—for such,there arc on thattloor, though few whose n'piplo of talk in their.midmgbt ovules is tho low ami obscene storloo daily retailed to them in tho chamber of tho chief, magistrate. . "Wo appeal to the gentlemen who feted Mr* Lincoln here, and escorted him to tho clubs, when l\e last visited New York. j, r Wo appeal to the eminent Republican,who. left the'room where the future President was recounting some experi eneos of his .early life rather than.that his ears should bo defiled with tho echoes of such-filthiness..., . ' We appeal to the staff officers who galloped behind tho President when he visited the but? tic-field ofAntictam, and who increased their distance from him rather than. listen longer to tho low nigger songof " Picayune Butler, * which Mr. Lincoln called on Marshal Lamon to sing ns he rode ,am,6pg the fresh grave? and trendies where, were. btrmfh.thq ten thousand dead soldiers of tho Republic!. When the testimony pf all those gentlemen is. in, wo will hoar the Tribune defend thq Republican party for electing a buffoon to to tho Presidency, apd »may, have something further to say concerning American institu tions which have permitted the Republican party to. elect a buffoon and ruin a nation.— h\ r. World. - . If there is a prospect that all our abln bodied men have got to go to the war, we had better bo educating our women, and girls to. be tho conductors of our business and managers of our estates.-— Xsouisuillc Jo * Dooa vs. Sheep.—Sheer'-'"''" DrugffWa andpealor* in ©Tory °* State!, ■ *| —iji NO. I -
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers