gig ignArgitir Ifizittligtuttr, WEDN.7=;IAY BY u. o. dc CO. A. .J. STEINMAN H. G. SMITH PERMS—Two Dollars per annum, payable an eases In advance. - OFFISFr - SORTIEWEST CORN/Tit OF CENTRIC SQUARTA • ASf`All letters on business should be ad dressed to H. G. surrn & Co. Xiterarg. I.lentenant Castagnac. In 1845 I was attached, as assistant surgeon, for the military hospital of Constantine. This hospital rose in the interior of the Kaaba, upon a pointed rock from three to four hundred feet high, overlooking the entire city, the governor's palace, and the immense plain which stretches away farther than the eye can reach. It is a wild and im posing point of view. From my win dow, opened to let In the evening breezes, I could nearly pitch my cigar into the Rummel, which winds by the foot of the gigantic wall of rock. • Garrison life has never had any charms for me; I could never find pleasure in drinking glasses of absinthe, rum, or brandy. At the time of which I am speaking, this was called want of spirit; it was a kind of spirit which my gastric faculties did not permit me to exhibit. I was obliged to limit myself, therefore, to visiting my patients; to writing my prescriptions; to doing my duty ; this done, I retired to my own room to make notes, to look over my books, or to revise my observations, and put them into order. In the evening, when the sun was slow ly withdrawing his rays from the plain, with my elbow resting on the sill of my window, I stood dreamily watch ing this grand spectacle of nature, al ways the same in its marvellous regu larity, and yet eternally new ; a distant caravan winding its way over the hill sides; an Arab galloping on the limits of the horizon, and lost to my sight as if he had faded jot, space some cork oak trees cutting with their leafy out lines the purple bars of the setting sun; or, far 011, and high above me, the wneeling of the birds of prey, their cleaving wings spread darkly against the sombre azure of the sky; all this at tracted, captivated me; I could have remained there for hours, had not duty forcibly curried roe away to the dissec tion table. Nobody troubled themselves to criti cise these tastes of mine, except a cer tain lieutenant cf Voltigeurs, named Castagnac, whose portrait it he neces sary that I should here draw for you. On -tepping from the public vehicle, at the moment of my first arrival at Constantine, I. heard a voice behind me say " I'd bet that this is our new as sistant-surgeon." I turned and found myself in the presence of au i actuary officer, tall, dry, bony, red-nosed, his kepi cocked over Ills ear, with . the peak pointed up to the sky, and his sabre between his legs • it was Lieutenant Castagnac. Before I had fully made out his strange physi ognomy, the Lieutenant had shaken me by the hand, " Welcome, Dottor!" he cried. " Enchanted to make your acquaintance. You're fatigued? Let us go in at once; I'll undertake to present you to the club." 'Ph e " u "at Constantine is simply the officers' place of refreshment,—their eating-house. We entered ; for how could I resist the sympathetic enthusiasm of such a man, even though I had read `• Oil " Here !—waitbr !"—eried my con ductor ; " two glasses! What do you drink, Doctor? Cognac ?—rum " No ; curacoa." "Curacoa! O!—why not parfail amour' : 2 You've a funny taste, Doctor? Waiter, a glass of absinthe for me,—a full one—up to the brim. Good! Ybur health, Doctor!" " Yours, Lieutenant." It was thus that I was at once instated in the good graces of this strange indi vidual. I need hardly say that this kind of intimacy could not long be pleasant to me ; I very quickly discovered that my friend (astagwic had a confirmed habit of being deeply plunged into the reading of the newspaper whenever the moment for payment arrived. This characteris tic will give you a good idea of the man. On the other hand, I made the acquiant ance of several other officers of the same regiment, who' laughed heartily with me at this new kind of Amphitryon. One among them named Raymond .Dutertre, a brave young fellow, told me that, on his joining the regiment, some thing had happened to him. " I detest backbiting," he said, " so I told Castagnac what I had to say before some of our comrades. He took the thing ill ; and we went to a quiet place under the walls, where I gave him a pretty little cut with the point, which played the devil with the reputation of a skull-cracker which he had gained iu some lucky duels he had fought." Things were in this state when, towards the middle of June, fevers make their appearance in Constantine; the hospital received not only military patieUts, but a great number of the inhahltants, entailing upon me a con siderable amount of extra work, and interfering with my regular habits. Among my patients were Castagnac and llutertre. Castagnae was not suf fering under an attack of fever, how ever, but under a strange affection cal led delirium tremens,—it state of ide• lirium, of nervous trembling peculiar to drunkards, and especially to in dividuals who abandon themselves to the drinking of absinthe. It is preceded by great restlessness, sleeplessness, sudden sh iidderings; it is characterized by redness of face and alcoholic odor in the breath. While the attack was upon him, he uttered frequent and terrible cries, in the midst of which be repeated a woman's name, "Fatima! Fatima!" a circumstance which made me ptesume that at some previous time he might have been the victim of an unfortunate IoV6-affair, for which he had consoled himself by the abuse of strong liquors. This idea inspired me with profound pity for him ; for it was truly pitiable to see his tall, meagre body bent to the right or to the left, then suddenly stiffened like a log of wood, 012 face pale, the nose blue, the teeth clenched; it was impossible to witness these crises without shuddering. Upon recovering his senses, at the end of half an hour or so, after every one of his fits, he invariably demand ed, "What:have I been saying, Doe tor?—Have I said anything?" "No, Lieutenant,—nothing." " I must have said something; you are hiding it from me 1" " Nonsense ! How can I remember? All sick persons mutter to themselves." " 1 did say something, then ?—what was it ?" he demanded, eagerly. " How can I remember? If you wish it, I'll make a note of what you say next time." He turned deadly pale, and looked at me ,as if he were endeavoring to pene trate to the bottom of my soul ; he then closed his heavy eyelids, pressed his lips together, and muttered in a low tone, "A glass of absinthe would do me good." At length his arms tell by his side, and he remained stoically motionless. One morning, as I was about to enter Castagnac's room, I saw Raymond Dutertre coming towards me from the end of the corridor. "Doctor," he said, putting out his hand, " I am come to ask a favor of you." " What pleasure, my dear fellow, if I can grant it," I said. "I want you to give me a written per mission to go out for the day." • "My dear fellow, don't think of such a thing ; anything else you like." "But I'm quite well, Doctor; I've had no fever for four days." " Yes ; but there's a great deal of fever about in the city, and I cannot expose you to the chance of a relapse." " Give me only two hours,—time to go and return." " Impossible, my dear fellow ; do not press me,—it will be useless. I know &ow tiresome the restraints of the hos pital are, I know how impatient the sick are to breathe the free air; but we must have patience." " You won't let me go, then ?" "In the course of a week, if you go on well, we'll see about it." He left me, greatly out of temper. I cared nothing for that; but what was my surprise to see Castagnac, with staring eyes, following his retreating Comrade with a strange look. i . ' c' 1 • .. . . . V . . ,- . . . ~ . . ~,..;: , , . a ' ' _. • 1 . ;• - . . . .. w irj , J ...., 0.1 (, " 3 ' 1 1, ~..., is Ji•, , , • • . : • :: .... if ~."1. .r . ... 4:: ~. 4 -•-. .• - - • • ~.. 111 . 0 r' 1.1 . '. ' - . . .. .. . . , - t . , • ~ .... ..,. .. 1111( . ..: . .! .. 7 .1:1.. ' .. ,• •. e • . . . .. _ ... . A ... ... . t 4 A .• . . . . VOLUME 68 "Well," I said, "how are you this morning!" "I'm very, well," he answered ab ruptly. "Isn't that Raymond going away yonder?" "Yes." "What did he want?" "0, only a written permission to go out, which I refused." Castagnac drew a long breath, and, sinking back into himself, apeared to fall into a state of somnolency. Something in his voice awoke in me I know:not what vague apprehension; and I left him, feeling nervous and ab stracted. That day one of my patients died; I had the body carried into the dissecting room, whither I descended, towards nine o'clock in the evening. It was a small vaulted room, fifteen feet high by twenty feet wide and deep, lit by two windows opening on the precipice, on the side of the high road to Phillipper vine. On an inclined table lay the body which I proposed to study. After placing my lamp upon a stone, built out from lithe side of the wall for this purpose, I began my work, and contin ed my task uninterruptedly for two hours. The " rappel " had long been sounded; the only sounds that reached my ears were the measured steps of the sentinel, his times of stop ping, when he dropped the butt of mus ket on the ground. and, from hour to hour, the passage of the patrol, the qui vive, distant whisper of the pass-word ; rapid and mingled sounds, the dying away of which seemed to intensify the silence which they left behind. It was nearly eleven o'clock, and I was beginning to feel fatigued, when, happening to turn my eyes towards the open window, I was overcome by a strange spectacle ; it was a row of small gray owls, with ruffled feathers and green blinking eyes fixed upon the rays of my lamp, settled upon the sill of the window and jostling each other for places. These hideous birds were drawn thither by the scent of human flesh, and were only awaiting my departure to dart upon their prey. It is impossi ble for me to tell you the horror which this sight caused me: I rushed towards the window, and its revolting occu pants disappeared into the darkness, like dead - leaves carried . away by the wind. But at the same moment a strange sound fell upon my ear, a sound almost imperceptible in the void of the abyss. I leant forward, grasping the bar of the window and holding my breath, the better to see and listen. Castagnac's chamber was above the dissecting-room, which was at the base of the building, its floor resting on the solid rock. Between the precipice and the hospital wall, ran a ledge, not more than a foot wide, and covered with frag ments of bottles and crockery thrown out by the nurses. All was so still that the lightest sound was perceptible, and I could plainly hear the steps and grop ings of somebody passing along this perilous path. " Heaven send that the sentinel does not hear him!" I said to myself. " The least hesitation and his destruction is inevitable." I had hardly made this reflection, when a hoarse stilled voice, the voice of Custagnac, cried through the silence : Raymond, where are you going ?" This exclamation pierced me to the marrow of my bones. It was a sentence of death. In a moment I heard some of the debris clatter down, and then along the narrow ledge I heard some one strug gling with long-drawn breath. The cold sweat burst from my every pore. I tried to see,—to descend,—to call for help ; but I was powerless ; my tongue was glued to my mouth. Suddenly there was a groan—then—nothing! Yes, there was a peal of laughter ; then a window was slammed to, so violently as to break some of the glass in it. And then silence, like a winding-sheet, enveloped all without. I cannot describe to you the terror which made me shrink to the far side of the room, and there, trembling, and with hair erect, and eyes fixed before me, remain for more than twenty minutes, listening through the throb bing of my heart, and vainly endeavor ing, with the pressure of my hand, to stay its wild pulsations, At the end of that time 1 mechanically closed the window, took my lamp,. mounted the stairs to my chamber, 4.nd went to bed ; but it was impossible for me to close an eye. I heard sighs,—the long•drawn sighs of the victim,—then the savage peal of laughter. Worn out and needing rest us I was, fright kept me awake. I saw constant ly before me the image of Castagnao in his shirt, his neck outstretched, watch ing his victim's descent into the black depths of the precipice; it froze my blood. "It was he," I said to myself. '' But if he ever suspects that 1 was there!" I seemed to hear the boards of the corridor creak under a stealthy foot step; and I raised myself upon My elbow, with open mouth and listening ear. The sirocco had risen ; it whirled over the plain with lugubrious moan ings, carrying even to the summit of the rock the sand and gravel of the desert. Sleep at last seized upon me, however; and toward three o'clock I sank into a heavy slumber. It was broad day when I awoke; the wind of the preceding night had fallen, and the deep blue sky was so calm and pure that I doubted my recollections, and thought that I had been under the influence of a horrible dream. But I felt a strange disinclination to verify my Impressions. I went to fulfil my professional duties; it was not until after I had visited all my sick wards, and examined each of my patients with more than ordinary care, that I at last went to Dutertre's room. I knocked at the door—no answer. I opened it and went in ; his bed was not disturbed. I called the nurses and questioned them ; nobody had seen Lieutenant Dutertre since the preceding evening. Rousing all my courage I went to Castaguac's room. A rapid glance to wards the window showed me that two squares of glass in it were broken ; felt myself turn pale, but recovered my coolness as quickly as I could. " We had a high wind last night, Lieuten ant," I said. He was tranquilly seated at his table, his head supported by his hands, and making believe to read a book of mili tary exercises. He looked up with his dull, ordinary look. " Only two win dows blown in," he said ; not much harm done." " This chamber appears to be more exposed than the others on this side," I said ; " or, perhaps, you left it open !" There was an almost imperceptible contraction of the old soldier's cheeks. " No, —it was closed, all the night," he said, looking strangely at me. "Ah !" I said ; then approached him to feel his pulse. " And how is your health ?" "I'm all right," he said. " Good," I replied ; " you are decided ly better,—a little agitated at this mo ment, but decidedly better. In a fort night, Lieutenant, you will be yourself again, I promise. But then you must take care of yourself;—no more green poison !" . In spite of the good-natured tone I assumed, my voice trembled. The old scoundrel's hand, which I held in mine, produced upon me the same effect as if it had been a serpent's head. I could have wished to fly from his presence. His restless eye was fixed upon me, and its glance filled me with nameless hor. ror. I contained myself, however. At the moment of leaving him, I returned suddenly, as if I had recollected some thing. " By the by, Lieutenant," I said " did Dutertre happen to pay you a visit last night ?" A shudder passed through him. " Dutertre ?" '• Yes ; he has been out since yester day,—nobody knows what has become of him. I suppose—" " Nobody hm been to see me," he said, in a dry tone of voice; " nobody." He returned to his book, and I closed the door, as convinced of his crime as I was that the sun was shining in the sky. Unfortunately I had no proofs.— " If I denounce him," I said to myself on regaining my room, " he'll deny everything I may say, that is evident; if he denies it, what proof of the facts can I bring forward? None. My own testimony would not suffice. Besides, crimes of this kind are not provided for by the laws. All the odium of the ac cusation would fall hack upon my own bead, and I should have made a terrible enemy." In consequence of these reflections, I determined to wait, and to watch Cas tagnac without appearing to do so, per suaded that he would end in betraying himself. I went to the Comfaandant of the place, and simply reported to him the disappearance of Lieutenant Du tertre. On the following day, some Arabs coming to Constantine, with their asses laden with vegetables, said that from the road to Philippeville, they had seen a uniform hanging to the high rocks of the Kasha, with birds of prey flying about in hundreds, and filling the air with their cries. They had seen the remains of Raymond. It was a task of infinite difficulty to recover them by means of ropes and ladders. The officers of the garrison devoted themselves for one or two days to this strange adven ture: they made a thousand commen taries on the probable circumstances of the event, then chatted on some other subject, and finally returned to their dominoes and piquet. Men every day of their lives exposed to the risk of sudden death have no great stores of sympathy one for the other: Jacques dead, Pierre replaces him; and the regiment is immortal,— Raymond Dutertre's death was soon forgotten. My position in the midst of the gen eral indifference was hard to bear; my silence weighed upon me like remorse. The sight of Lieut. Castagnac filled me with indignation ,—a sort of iusurmount able repulsion ; the wan look, the iron ical smile of the man, froze my blood. I was sure, too, that lie watched me from a distance, as if to read my inmost thoughts; and these furtive looks of his did not at all tend to reassure me as to my personal safety. He suspects something," I said to myself; "if he were sure, I should be lost; for he is a man that would stick at nothing." These ideas imposed on me an intol erable restraint; my labors suffered from it, and I resolved to free myself from my stateof incertitude at any price. But how? Providence pine to my aid. I was leaving the hospital one afternoon about three o'cldck, when the corporal nurse came to me with a small sheet of paper which he had found in Ray mond's tunic. " It's a letter from a woman called Fatima," said the man; "it appears that the creature had some sort of liking for Lieutenant Dutertre, and I thought you would like to see this letter." The leading of this letter filled me with astonishment; it was very brief, and did little more than indicate the hour and the place of a proposed meet ing; but what a revelation was in the signature ." "So then," I said to myself, " this woman, whose name Castagnac has called out so often in his delirium, real ly lives,—and loves Dutertre! Who knows? it wss to meet her, possibly, that Raymond wanted me to give him permission to leave the hospital. Yes! the letter is dated the 3d of July. It must be so! Poor fellow ! not being able to leave the hospital during the day, he ventured, during the night, along that terrible path,—and there Castag nac awaited him 1" While these thoughts were passing in my mind, I descended to the base of the rock on which the hospital was built, and found myself in front of a low vault of brick, open to the wind, according to the Oriental usage. At the back of this vault, a certain Sidi Houmaium, armed with a long wooden ladle, and gravely seated on his haunches, was stirring into an earthen vessel full of boiling water the perfumed powder of Moka. It is only right that I should tell you . that I had cured Sidi Houmaium of a malignant skin disease, against which the doctors of his country had vainly employed all their panaceas and amu lets. The good fellow showed me real gratitude in return, All around his botega, or coffee-shop, there was a di van covered with cushions, on which were seated five or six Moors, wearing the red fez with a tassel of blue silk ; all sitting with crossed legs and half-closed eyes, the chibouk in their lips, tasting in silence the aroma of the tobacco of Turkey and the beau of Tonquin. I cannot tell you why the idea had suddenly come into my mind of con sulting Sidi Houmaium. It was one of those strange impulses that are not to be explained, the causes of which are untraceable. I en tered the botcga with a solemn step, to the great bewilderment of its occu pants, and took my place on the divan. Sidi Houmaium, without appearing to recognize me, came and presented me with a chibouk and a cup of boiling-hot coffee. I sipped the beverage, puffed at the chibouk; time moved slowly, and towards six o'clock the sanctified voice of the mucezin called the faithful to prayer. All rose, passing their hands over their beards, and took their way to the mosque. At last I was alone. Sidi Houmaium cast an uneasy look around him, then came to me, bowed himself, and kissed my hand. "What brings my lord the doctor to my humble dwelling?" he said. "What can I do to be of service to him ?" "I want you to introduce me to Fatima," I replied. "Fatima, the Moor ?" " Yes." " My lord, in the name of your mother, do not go near this woman !" " Why not?" " Because she is the perdition of the faithful and of the infidel,—of all who approach her ! Do not see her !" " Sidi Houmaium, my resolution is unshakable. If Fatima possesses a charm that destroys, I possess one that preserves; if hero gives death, mine gives life, youth, and beauty. Tell her that, Sidi Houmaium. Tell her that the wrinkles of age vanish at my ap proach; tell her that were she old, ugly, as a witch, I could charm away her ugliness, and make her as fair and fresh to look upon es the new-blown lily, her lips rosy and per fumed as the queen of flowers, her teeth as pearly as those of the young jackall." " But, my lord doctor," cried the Mus sulman, "Fatima is not old: on the contrary, she is young and beautiful enough to be the pride of a sultan !" " I know it; but she may become old, I wish to see her. Remember, Sidi Houmaium, all your promises of service to me." "Since such is the will of my lord," replied Sidi Houmaium, " return hither to-morrow at the same hour. But let him remember well what I say to him ; Fatima makes a shameful use of her beauty." "Do not be uneasy on my account; I will not forget what you have told me." After presenting my hand to the good man, I took my departure with the same slow and majestic step as that with which I had arrived. You may imagine how Impatiently I awaited the hour of my rendezvous with Sidi Hou maium ; I could not' control my impa tience; a hundred times I listened for the cry of the muetzin, and even chatted with a sentinel to kill time. At length the verse of the Koran sounded in the air, from minaret to minaret, over the indolent city. I flew to Sidi Houmai um's, and found the worthy coffee-shop keeper closing his establishment.— " Well ?" I inquired, out of breath. "Fatima is waiting to see you, my lord," replied Sidi Houmaium. He fastened his shop, and then, with. out further explanation walked off ahead of me. As he went forward without once turning his head, and with his bernous almost sweeping the ground, I could hear him reciting I know not what litanies in Arabic. After awhile, quitting the high street,, he entered the narrow passage of Sum, in which two persons cannot walk abreast. There, in the black mire of the gutter, under wretched stalls, swarm a population of shoemakers, morocco embroiderers, dealers in Indian spices, aloes, dates, and rare perfumes; some going and coming with an apathetic air, others squatted with their legs LANCASTER PA. WEDMS crossed tm der them, dreaming of heaven only knows what, in the midst of - an atmosphere of blue smoke, which es capes from their mouth and nostrils at one and the same time. Suddenly, in one of the innumerable turnings of Che passage, SidiHoumaium stopped before a low door, and raised the knocker. . • . " I shall want you to come in with me to act as interpreter," I said to him, in a low tone. " Fatimaspeaks Wench," he answer ed, without. turning his head. At the same moment the shining face of a negress appeared at a wicket in the door. Sidi Houmaium spoke a few words in Arabic; the door was then; opened, and quickly closed behind me, the negress vanishing by a side-door, !I and Sidi Houmaium remaining outside ,I in the passage. After I had waited 'I for some minutes, and was beginning! to grow impatient, a door on the left opened, and the negress re-appeared, making me a sign to follow her. I mounted a few steps, and found myself in an interior court, paved with small China tiles in mosaic. Several doors opened into this court. The negress led me .into a low room with open windows, furnished with silk curtains of arabesque pattern. A large amber colored mat was upon the floor, round the sides o 4 which there was a number • of Persian cushions; the ceiling was ornamented with arabesques of inter minable fantastic fruits and flowers. But that which at once attracted my attention was Fatima herself, seated on a divan, her eyes veiled by long black lashes, her upper lip slightly shadowed, her nose long and thin, and her arms loaded with heavy bracelets. For a few moments the Moresque look ed at me out of the corner of her eye ; an arch smile then half-parted her lips. " Come in, my lord doctor," she said, boldly ; " Sidi Houmaium told me you were coming to see me. I know what brings you. You are good enough to interest yourself in poor Fatima, who is growing old, for she will soon be seven teen. Seventeen! Yes; poor Fatima will soon want to have the beauty of her youth renewed!" I did not in the least know what answer to make ; I was confused ; but I suddenly remembered the object which had brought me. " You joke delightfully, Fatima," I said, seating myself on the divan. ." I have heard your wit praised not less than your beauty, and I see that it was justly praised." " Ah, indeed !" she said. " And by whom, pray ?" " By Raymond Dutertre." " Raymond !" " Yes ; the young officer who recently fell into the abyss of the Rummel. Your lover, Fatima." She opened her large eyes with sur prise. "Who told you that he was my lover ?" she cried, looking strangely at me ; "it is false ! Did he tell you so ?" "No; but I know it. This letter proves it,—this letter, which you wrote to him, and which was the cause of his death ; for it was in attempting to come to you in the night that he risked him self on the rocks of the Kasha, and perished iu the attempt." I had hardly pronounced these words when the Moresque rose abruptly, her eyes glittering with sombre fire. " I was sure of it !" she cried. "Yes ; when the negress came and told:meyof what had happened, I said to her, Aissa, it is he who has done this,—ilis he, the wretch !' " And as I looked at her, unable to divine the meaning of her words, she came to me, and said in a low voice, " Will he die?—do you think he will die soon? I should like to see him beheaded!" She had seized me by the arm, and looked wildly into my eyes; I shall never forget the look of her passion lighted face. "Of whom are you speaking, Fatima?" I said, greatly moved. " Explain your self; I do not understand you." "Of whom ?—of Castagnac! You are the hospital doctor,—give him poison ! He is a villian. I knew that he had a grudge against the young man, and I refused to lure him ; but Castagnac threatened to come from the hospital, and to beat me if I did not obey him in in writing that letter. See!—here is the letter he wrote to me." I will not shock you by repeating all that Fatima told meof Castagnac,—how, after betraying her, he had brutally ill treated, and occasionally even gone so far as to beat her. I left the Moresque's house with a heavy heart. Sidi Hou maium was awaiting me in the passage, and we wound our tortuous way back to the spot whence we had started. "Take care, my lord doctor," said the worthy fellow, looking at me from the corner of his eye, "the Angel of Evil is hovering over your head !" I shook his hand, and bade him fear nothing. My resolution was taken. Without losing a moment I entered the hospital, and knocked at Castagnac's door. "Come in !" he cried. The expression of my face must have told him that I came for no good to him ; for the moment he saw me enter, he rose as if he were stupefied. " 0 !--is it you?" he stammered, put ting on a forced and sickly smile ; " I did not expect to see you." The only answer I made was to show him the letter he had written to Fatima. He turned pale ; and after looking at the letter for several moments, would have sprung upon me; but I stopped him "If you move another step," I said, putting my hand to my sword, " kill you like a dog! You are a scoun drel)! You have murdered Dutertre! was in the dissecting room below, and heard all. Do not deny it. Your con duct towards this unfortunate woman is odious. Listen ! I might give you up to justice; but your dishonor would re dound upon us all. If you have any courage left, destroy yourself. I will give you till to-morrow; to-morrow at seven o'clock, if I find you living, I will myself drag you before the command. ant." I left him without any answer, and hastened to give orders to the sentinel to prevent Lieutenant Castagnac from leaving the hospital on any pretext. I gave the same order to all the atten dants, and made them responsible for any negligence or weakness. I then took my way to the place where I was accustomed to dine, as if nothing had happened ; I was gayer than usual, in deed, and sat at table till past eight o'clock. Since Castagnac's crime had been materially proved to me, I felt pitiless; Raymond cried to me for ven geance, and I was determined that he shonld not cry in vain. After leaving the dinner-table, I went to a rosinseller and bought a large torch, such as our spahis carry on the occasion of their night-fetes. I then went back to the hospital, and directly descended to the dissecting-room, taking care to double-lock the door after me. The voice of the muetzin announced the tenth hour, the mosques were deserted, the night was profoundly dark. I seated myself before one of the win dows, breathing the mild gusts of wind, and giving myself up to the reveries which had always been so dear to me. How much suffering, how much in quietudes, I had gone through during the past fortnight! I had endured nothing like it during the whole of my previous existence; and I now feel as if I had escaped from the claws of the Spirit of Evil, and was enjoying the first taste of my reconquered liberty. Time passed thus ; the patrol had al ready twice relieved the sentinels, when suddenly I heard the sound of rapid but stealthy steps on the stairs,—then a knock at the door. I made no answer. A febrile hand groped for the key. " It is Castagnac!" I said to myself, while my blood ran cold. At the end of a couple of seconds, a voice cried: "Open the door!' I was not deceived; it was he. He listened for a while, and then tried to force open the heavy oaken door. A short silence followed, :then a sec ond attempt. I kept myself mbtionless, and held my breath. Something fell upon the step, and then I heard the sound of retreating feet. I had escaped death. But what would he do neat? For fear of a new and more violent at- AY MORNING JULY 17 1867. . tempt to burst open the door, I drew the two heavy iron bolts with , which it was furnished. I then went back to the window, whither a strange and alarming sound had attracted me. I looked cautiously out. A shadow was moving in the darkness along the ledge from which poor Dutertre had gone to destruction. The moon had risen on the side of the city, and the shadow of the hospital was thrown broadly over the abyss; but I have no doubt that the form moving towards the window at which I was standing was that of Castagnac, of whose murderous intentions also I had no doubt. Peering through the' darkness, I saw that the would-be-murderer was Ad vancing with his back pressed against the wall, the abyss invisible in the dark ness before him. He moved slowly and with all possible prebaation. I shouted to him the death -cry ; " Raymond, where are you going ?" "But whether it was that he was pre pared for whatever might happen, or that he had more sangfroid than his victim, the wretch only answered by a mocking laugh. You are there, then,—as I suspected —Doctor! Wait a bit; I'll come round the other way. We have a little ac count to settle, I lit my torch, and field it over the precipice. "It is too late," I cried; "look down at your grave!" The immense shelves of the abyss, with their black shining rocks heaped into wild shapes, were illuminated to the bottom of the valley. It made even me giddy to look at, and I shrank back from the sight. But he,—he was sepa rated from the gulf only by the length of a crick,—with what terror must he have been struck ! His knees bentunderhim,—his hands clutched at the wall. I held out my torch once more. An enormous bat, driven away by the , light, took wing and wheeled in dismal circles around the flame ; and far, far down, the waves of the Rummel glittered in the im mensity. " Mercy !" cried the wretch, in a broken voice. " Mer—" , I had not courage to prolong his agony, but threw the blazing torch out into the black'abyss. How slowly it seemed to sink into the depths below i—down ! down ! But before its flame was extin guished in the river, a dark shadow for a moment came between it and my sight,—and I knew that this was done. On leaving the dissecting-room, my foot struck against something on the stairs. It was my own sword, and with which Castaguac, with his habit ual perfidy, had intended to kill me; in this way thinking to make it appear that I had committed suicide. As I had expected to find, the door of my room had been broken open; my bed had been turned over, my papers scattered about. He had plainly determined to rdb as well as murder me. This dis covery completely removed from my mind the feeling of involuntary pity with which the wretch's terrible end had inspired me. BICEEMI " The trotting has this year been far more extraordinary than the racing. Indeed, the trotting has never been equalled. Ethan Allen's running made on the 21st of June to wagon in three heats beat Dexter in harness (to sulkey), mile heats, three in five, in the wonderful timeof 2.15, 2.16, 2.19. Dexter's tithe was 2.16, 2.17 and 2.21. In the last heal Dexter broke badly, and this made that heat slower than it would other wise have been. Had this trot been be tween two teams to wagon, a trotter with racing mate in each team, the feat might not with the same time have been regarded so wonderful as it now is; for there would have been nostandard by which to measure it. But as Dexter in harness did 2.16, 2.17, here is a standard. In all the trots in this vicinity no horse has ever before trotted a mile iu harness in less than 2.201.. This has always been regarded here as extraordinary time, and was made by that nonpareil Flora Temple. Dexter beat her time by 41 seconds. Dexter's performance stamped Al len's winning as the most extraordinary trot ever made. Another signal trot was Dexter's defeat of Lady Thorne at the Fash ion Course on the 14th of June, two mile hams, in harness, in which he did the first heat in 4:51. This beat has been exceeded but once, and that by Flora Temple, in 4:501; and beside, this feat of Flora's has never been equalled. Could Lady Thorne have driven Dexter, he would have beaten Flora's time, as he came home an easy win ner, and had much more in him to come out than did come, if only he had anything to force it. Another great feat was the trot between Dexter and Ethan Allen at Mor ristown on the Fourth of July, in which Allen again bent Dexter. It was on a half mile course. The time was 2:201, 2:201, 2:20. The track considered, this trot was quite as wonderful as the one on the Fashion Course. These two events will ever be memorable ones, marking their year after. In the future there is much to come. A new match will soonor or later be conclu ded between Dexter and Ethan Allen, the former to go under the saddle, and the latter to pole with running mate. This will equalize the horses' powers, and to win it— if day, track, and horses all come right—as low as 2:1'2 must be reached. Dexter, be yond a doubt, is five seconds faster under the saddle than in harness. and, lfhe should do as well under saddle as he did with Ethan Allen In harness,' would go in 2:11. It is a fair calculation that he can do that. Allen in the match did a half-mile in 1:04 he ought to be able to do a mile in 2:11 to pole with running mate. As both Mr. Jerome, the owner of Ken tucky, and Mr. Fawcett, the owner of Dexter, have expressed a willingness to match these horses, it is to be hoped that they will be brought together. The proposi tion is t hat Kentucky shall run four miles while Dexter trots three under saddle.— This would be an extraordinary match, and would excite greet interest. Another proposed match, which will most likely be made, is one between Dex ter on one side, and Ethan Allen and Honest Allen (a son of Ethan, and a trotter) on the other ; Dexter to go to wagon, and the pair of trotters to pole. This would be another extraordinary event. These matches are proposed ones, and are likely to be made, at least the. trotting ones are. But there is an event in racing to take place, just arranged, that is now attracting much attention and discussion. Mr. Jerome has made a match with Mr. John Hunter, in which he backs his horse Kentucky to run four miles in 7 minutes 20 seconds, car. rying 120 lbs. Mr. H. backing time. The match is for $5,000 a side, and the race is to come off at the Jerome Park meeting in the Fall. Mr. Jerome is to be allowed the privi lege of running as many horses of his own stable with Kentucky as he may choose, and at what distance he may determine. Ken tucky is now in training, indeed, he has been kept on exercise all the Summer, and is being got ready for not only this, but for other races in the coming Fall meetings. It is a little noteworthy that Mr. Hun ter, who had the direction and control of Kentucky during his past racing career, should back time against him. Still Mr. H. may never have known his full powers. The horse showed power last year to do this feat with 100 pounds beyond a doubt. The point is, can he this year with 120 pounds do it. The time in which it is to be done has been done only once in America; that was by Lexington when he was five years old, and was at the Metarle Course, New Orleans. Mr. Ten Broeck, his owner, backed him to do four miles in 7.20, to carry 100 pounds. He carried 103 pounds, with Kilpatrick (who could not ride less than 103 pounds) in the saddle, and did the four miles 7.191. Kentucky is now six years old and to equalize weights, age considered, should carry about 112 pounds to make a proper comparison with Lexington. If Kentucky should do the four miles in 7:20, with 120 pounds up, he will perform the most wonderful feat ever known in this country. Idlewild (got by Lexington as well as Kentucky) did four miles in 7:25, with weight for age, and she is not regarded as having been Kentucky's equal. In this match he carries his approximate weight for his age. Should he come all right and the track be in fine condition, he may do the four miles in the 7:20, but all conditions must favor or he will be inevitably beaten by fell time, that knows no conditions. Winning or losing he will have thousands on thousands to see him make the attempt to perform so remarkable a fact. At Niagara Falls, on the Fourth, Benj. Tyrol] discharged a musket which he thought contained only powder, and in stantly killed a woman and her child, who were passing along the street. Switzerland has about 3,500,000 inhabi tants and 345 scientific and literary publi cations, while France, with ten times the population, has but about five hundred journals and magazines. A man swam three-quarters of a mile in three- quartets of anhour, near Providence at the same time drawing a boat with six men in it, . OLD THAI STEVENS HIS VIEWS ON NEN AND THINGS. STATUS OF THE REBEL STATES DEMORALIZATION OF CONGRESS, IMPEACHMENT AND CONFISCATION GREELEY AND GERRIT SMITH RICH REBELS AND LOYAL LOSERS. SMALL FARMS FOR BIG RIGGERS. MEN WITHOUT BONES OR BLOOD " BEN WADE'S SHELLYWAGGEBS." HORACE GREELEY'S DISHWATER COWARDLY REPUBLICAN PLATFORMS New York and Pennsylvania Lost GEARY AN UNHAPPY FAILURE CAMERON A GREAT RASCAL RAYMOND A SMART JACKASS. BUTLER AN EXPLODED HUMBUG FESSENDEN AN OLD FOOL THE CANDIDATES FOR PRESIDENT CHASE 010 NO ACCOUNT BEN WADE PLAYED OUT Old Thad Is Bark la and "Sarkis Is WillinV A correspondent of the New York Herald, writing from Lancaster under date of June 30th, gives the following account of an interview he had with Old Thad Stevens: Old Thad, having been informed of the object of your correspondent's visit, very courteously expressed hie willingness to lay before any representative of the Herald his full views of the present status of the rebel States and of the policy which, as a repre sentative in Congress, he should advocate under the present phase of the reconstruc tion question. " When visited by a gentleman, and from such a paper as the Herald," said Mr. Ste vens, '• I have no concealments to make. But I am frequently annoyed by persons whom I do not desire to see, and who have no right to trouble me with their presence. Not many days ago, sir, a Southern editor, as he called himself, in a manner forced his way into my room, in company with a citi zen whose society I never voluntarily seek, byfollowing the servant who brought his card up to me, before I had time to decide whether I would see him or not. In an im perious manner he put question alter ques tion to me, although I told him my health would not permit me to receive visitors at that time ; and because I kindly answered a law, he continued in his lawyer-like cross examination until I arose and informed him that I found it necessary to retire to bed. Even then he followed me up with other questions, and I see by a Philadelphia paper that he has published a long rigmaroleabout his interview, containing a few words of truth and a great deal of imagination. THE STATUS OF' THE REBEL STATES-THE BLUNDER OF THE BLOCKADE. In reply to a question of your correspond ent, Old Thad thus defined his position on the subject of the status of the ex-rebel States: "When the rebellion first commenced I was in favor of treating it as a rebellion and the participators in it as traitors to the gov ernment of the United States, liable to pun ishment for their treason. It was so under stood in Congress, and I supposed it was so understood by President Lincoln and his Cabinet. After the adjournment of the first session of Congress during Mr. Lincoln's term, shortly after my return to my home, I saw, to my surprise, a proclamation declaring a blockade of all the rebel ports. This was a great blunder and absurdity. If the rebel States were still in the Union, and only in treasonable revolt against the gov ernment, we were blockading ourselves— blockading the ports of the United States. I attributed this at once to the incompre hensible statesmanship of Mr. Seward, and went to Washington to see and talk with President Lincoln on the subject. I laid my views before him, and told him that the blockade was a stultification of the former position of the government in relation to the rebel States; that the ports, instead of being blockaded, should have been closed, and a sufficient number of armed revenue vessels sent out on the seas to prevent smuggling. I pointed out to him the fact that by the act of blockade we recognized the rebel States as an independent belliger ent, and should thenceforth be compelled to conduct the war, not as if we wore sup pressing a revolt in our own States, but in accordance with the law of nations. "'Nell,' said Mr. Lincoln, when he had heard my remarks, 'that's a fact. I see the point now, but I don't know anything about the law of nations, and I thought it was all right.' Asa lawyer, Mr. Lincoln,' I remarked, ' I should have supposed you would have seen the difficulty at once. " Oh. well,' r'plied Mr. Lincoln, 'l'm a good enough lawyer in a Western law court, I suppose, but we don't practise the law of nations up there, and I supposed Seward knew all about it, and I left it to him. But it's done now and can't be helped, so we must get along as well as we can.' "In this Mr. Lincoln was right. The blunder had been committed and the rebel States were thenceforth an independent belligerent. Not an independent nation, of course, but an independent belligerent, to be dealt with in accordance with the law of nations. THE STATUS OF THE EX-REBEL STATES. "This being the case," continued Mr. Stevens, in substance, "as soon as the war was closed by the triumph of the Union arms, the rebel States became nothing more nor less than the conquered territory of the United States. In every respect they were just as much subject to their conquerors as though they had been previously a foreign country. The constitution, which is the basis of our own government, had nothing to do with them. We had the power—l mean Congress had the power—to make such laws as might seem proper for their temporary government, and such laws were not to be measured by the test of the Constitution. In like manner, there being no longer any States in existence in the conquered territory, Congress alone had the power to reconstruct it into States for admission to the Union, and for that pur pose could cut it up in any manner that mlght.appear desirable without regard to former divisions. No other power than Congress had authority to reconstruct this conquered territory or to make laws for its government; and any exercise of such authority by any other branch of the gov ernment was a usurpation of the functions and powers of Congress. Viewed by this light the whole work of reconstruction was simple enough, and if the majority in Con gress had honestly and firmly carried out this principle in all their legislation, there would have been no complication or diffi culty about it." WHAT THE MILITARY RECONSTRUCTION BILL WAS DESIGNED TO ACCOMPLISH. Your correspondent having expressed a deli-e to learn the opinion of Old Thad upon the Military Reconstruction bill, re ceived the following reply: "The Reconstruction bill now in opera tion was first brought in after several other propositions had failed through the back silo:brigs of some of our weak•kneed friends, as a military police bill alone, in order that a United States force might be sent into the territory we had won from an independent belligerent, to preserve order, carry out the instructions of Congress and protect the loyal people and citizens of the United States who might be found there. But some of our friends were so impatient to get the South ern rebels back to their embrace, in the for lorn hope of making political capital out of them when they returned into the Union, that they lost sight of the great underlying substance of the bill while searching about after the shadow of ' expediency.' HOW TEE BILL WAS BOTCHED "Every now and then one or another of these demoralized republicans would tack on some amendment conceived by a dilu ted philanthropy, and calculated to botch the bill and destroy its real efficiency. Sen ator Sherman, with his usual meddlesome folly, put in it a sort of enabling act, which would have left the loyalists entirely at the mercy of the rebels, if it bad been suffered to remain undisturbed. But when the de bauched bill came back to the House, Shel laberger and myself took counsel together and got up several propositions of amend ment calculated to remedy the mischief that had been done. Two of these propositions, which were adopted, effectually headed otf the real evil of Sherman's latitudinarian amendment • and having accomplishedtbis we were glad to peas the bill to the shape NUMBER 28 it then was; for we saw that we had to take that or nothing. THE DEbiORALIZ.& TION OF CONGRESS— "The fact is, Congress bad, as usual, become thoroughly demoralized. Some members had their wives at Washington and their women at home, and others their women at Washington and their wives at home, and it was impossible to keep them together. The bill was not all that we wanted, but it was the best we could get, and so we passed IL At first it was pro posed that Congress should itself name the generals who were to command in the different military districts. into which the conquered territory was divided; but the objection was made that it , looked like an interference with the discipline of the army. Then the commanding general was to made the selections; but some of our friends said, 'Oh, let the President do it, it can do no harm ;' and so we let it go at that. ~U~hYtf:ia~7lJ: ia~:[esllali . W YoI : iYNaY11N :; O~1 WiM =MEE! " We had the less objection to this, inas much as it was distinctly understood that the generals in command in the military districts had simply to do the work ordered by Congress, and that Congress alone, and no other power, had the right to interpret the Reconstruction act. Over and over again Congress had declared that they alone had the power to reconstruct the conquered territory; that no President, and no judges or courts had any right to interfere in the business in any shape or manner. It had been hard work to drive our friends to the recognition of the position that the South was nothing but conquered territory outside the Union and constitution. A temporizing, time serving, cowardly policy was desired by some of them, and with others, jealousy of so-called leaders, obstructed determined and straightforward action. But we had compelled them to put themselves on record on several occasions on this important point. WHAT THE MILITARY BILL REALLY WAS. i" When the bill became a law, it was therefore simply the instructions of Con gress to five military agents, generals in the army of the United States who should be named by the President, as to how they were to go on and do certain work in the conquered territory, laid down by Con gress. We never thought of delegating the right to the President, or any other person, Judge, Attorney General or any one else, to interpret the law or to order the military commanders what to do. Neither had the conquered people any right to appeal to the courts to test the "constitutionality" of the law. The constitution had nothing to do with them, nor they with it. They were outside of the pale of the constitution. The President had no right to interfere in the act that had been done by the President or execution of the law by the military coin. manders. The Attorney General bad no right to give any opinion about what Con gress had done or was doing. Congress had not asked him for any opinion. THE UNAUTHORIZED INTERFERENCE OF "Everything was going on very well until this trick of obtaining an opinion from a disputatious lawyer throw the country again into disorder. I look upon his action in the mutter as wholly impertinent, un authorized and unofficial, being a continua tion of the usurpation of the President when he undertook to build up States out of the conquered territory of the so called Confederacy before Congress had taken ac tion thereon. WHAT THAD STEVENS WOULD DO IN CON DRESS THIS EXTRA SESSION "If I had my way in Congress," con tinued Mr. Stevens, " I would declare every act that had been done by the President or his Cabinet, or his legal adviser, since the adjournment of Congress, in reference to the question of reconstruction, a nullity, and an impertinent and unauthorized in terference with and encroachment upon the powers and duties of Congress; and I would forbid any person—military com mander or other—to obey any orders or instructions that might issue from the President. I would go further and pass a separate enactment, in which I would dis• tinctly enumerate who should be registered and who should be disfranchised in the conquered territory. That would serve to protect the military officers who are in trusted with the duty of carrying out the instructions of Congress, and leave no doubt as to the meaning of the law. THE driPEACIIME NT OF THE PRESIDENT "That might answer well enough for the present extra session, provided the country is willing to goon for some little time longer with a man at the head of the government, intrusted with the execution of the laws, who, as soon as Congress has passed acts and brought the conquered territory into subjection to the Union, uses all the means in his power to defeat the well known and acknowledged object and intention of the laws, and to nullify all that the legislative arm of the government has done. If the bountry wants such a man at its head (which I say candidly I do not, although I have spoken but little about the impeach ment), then, I repeat, the action I have stated might suffice just at the present time. But if thepeople agree with me in the desire to put a man in the Executive position who will faithfully see the laws of the United States executed, at all times and under all circumstances, and who will not seek to usurp the powers and obstruct the action oh the national Congress, then we should at once impeach and remove Andrew John son." THE GROUNDS OF IMPEACHMENT Your correspondent here asked Mr. Stevens if the report of the Judiciary Com mittee, if it should be adverse to impeach ment, would not interfere with this move ment. "Not at all sir," was the reply of Old Thad; "Congress has the best and the broadest grounds for the impeachment of Andrew Johnson, in his unlawful usurpa tion of the government of the conquered territory and his attempt to raise up States therein, without the authority or action of Congress. In this the President was as rank a usurper as was Ctesar or Cromwell. The action of the Judiciary Committee has been simply fussy, unnecessary and absurd. There was nooccasion to take any testimony whatever on the subject of impeachment• The documents and the facts were evidence enough. They should not have culled a witness, but have reported that Congress had quite sufficient groundfor the impeach ment, it they desired,to take that political step, in the encroachments and usurpations of the President, white were a matter, not of oral testimony, but of official record." THE IMPEACHMENT TO BE PROPOSED AS A Question by your Correspondent—Shall you propose an impeachment of the Presi dent at this coming extra session? Mr. Stevens—l shall propose an impeach ment as a matter of duty and conscience. If I can find a majority in Congress who will sustain it, I shall vote an impeachment of Andrew Johnson and his trial just as soon as the court can be organized, in order to put out of the way at once a high official who, through his position, is obstructing the work of Congress, defying the laws of the United States and destroying the country. OLD THAD ON "MILD CONFISCATION." Question—Do you still adhere to the policy of confiscation? Mr. Stevens—l look on the leading rebels of the South as great criminals, who have not yet expiated their crimes. They have entailed upon the loyal people, by their voluntary and wicked acts, much suffering and sorrow—the loss of millions of treasure and hundreds ot thousands of lives. They have done this in the very worst cause that could be conceived—ln an attempt to break np a noble, beneficent and free government. They have waged upon us a flagrantly un just war. They deserve to have imposed upon them the heaviest penalties of war, now that they are conquered. But as they are our countrymen, I would be merciful to them. I would not take their lives, and I would not beggar and oppress them. But, if I had my way, I would at the very least impose upon the rich men of the ex-rebel territory—those who have come out of their wicked struggle with large wealth—a mild confiscation, sufficient to repay the loyal men of the South all they have lost by con• flscation at the hands of the rebels, and Northern men all the damages they have suffered by rebel raids and invasions. There are thirty or forty thousand rich rebels in the conquered territory whose wealth would suffice to pay these claims and yet not leave them beggars. These classes of sufferers by the war have no other means or hope of obtaining repayment for their losses, and it is but Just that they should be repaid. MODERN PHILOSOPHERS AND PHILANTLERO PISTS--GREELEY AND GERRIT SMITH. " Indeed, it would be thought that no just man could object to this policy or hesitate in carrying it out. These loyal citizens have suffered severe loss and damage, and have been beggared by the war. If we had been fighting a foreign enemy, in our treaty of peace we should have seen that these suffer ers were made whole. But the conquered territory not being a foreign, independent government, we make no treaty of peace, and, in lieu of a treaty, I propose to require that the rich rebels shall pay these losses oat of their superfluous wealth. The gov ernment cannot pay them, and the sufferert must get remuneration this way or riot at all. This is so fair and just that there would be no opposition to it but for the new • fangleddoctrines of the modern philosophera and philanthropists who thrust themselves forward as the champions of the conquered rebels, and, reviving the old copperhead cry, declare that the North was as much responsible for the war as the South. This morbid philanthropy, by befriending great criminals and mailing the North, has done .814612811' • ing. resi. ver Nguema of ten Linea ;-18 /per year for each ad ditional square_ Baum Zge.s7a, .PMes/ °Num asuaremere,and OM linviammera, 10 cants a line for the first, and - Scents fOr" each subsequent inser tion. splciAL lqamoss Maartfel Local Column, 15 cents' ppr line: • - / • . SPICIAL NOTiOla preceding m arriages and deaths, 10 cents per limp for first Insertion, and 5 cents for every , enbeeipient insertion., • Biggers:Bs CARDS, of OM Lines or leas, one year, la Business Cards, five lines or lees, one Leos'. ANOZ;rI7. & Nariams— Executors' ....slices:, 2.50 Administrators'. nOtioear----“•—• 150 Assignees' 260 :ers' notices, 2.00 Other "Notices,'' ten linee, or less, three times, LEO much to demoralize the country; for the moment we admit that the war was not a vile war, an unjust war, a reckless, wholly unnecessary and cruel war on the part of the South, we deprive ourselves of the right to hold the rebels responsible for the damages it has occasioned. If the doctrine of these new lights of republicanism bo tho true one, then we should not only lot the conquered rebels off without beheading them, but without any pains and penalties whatsoever." MILD CONFISCATION SOT FULLY SATISFAC- Your correspondent having inquired whether this " mild" confiscation was all Mr. Stevens desired, received in substance the following reply : "Well, sir, I shall attempt to carry a bill—probably not at this extra session, but at the next regular session—to assess a sufficient sum on a certain class of rich rebels to pay these damages to private citizens; first, inasmuch as they can be repaid in no other manner, except by the people upon whose necks we have our feet. But this will not satisfy me by any means. Before I consented to regard the rebels as entitled to full' pardon and peace I should go on and carry out the old confiscation law of 15t12., which is still unrepealed, and should then assess upon the general property of the conquered territory, pro rota, a sufficient amount to pay the whole outstanding war debt of the United States, in full. I should do this because that debt presses hard upon the loyal laboring masses of the North, and helps to keep them poor and to bring some of their families to the point of starvation ; and because it was incurred in waging a war wickedly forced upon us, without cause or excuse, by the South. PUNISHMENT FOR THE MURDER OF UNION @KIM "When I had done thus much through confiscation to renair the injuries to the loy al people and to the North, I believe I should go a little further yet. I atn not will ing to allow the murder of twenty or thirty thousand Union soldiers in the prison pens of Audersouville and other places, and the shooting down of colored soldiers like toad dogs, to pass unavenged. I would create military trihunals nt the South charged with the special duty of investigating all theso offenses. Wo could not now probably try the offenders for treason, nor would It be necessary to hang them ; but I would hold the whole conquered territory responsible fortheir acts. The so-called Confederate gov ernment must have known of these mur ders and brutalities, and I would let none of them off on the paltry pretence that they wore not guilty becau-e they had not been formally indicted for the crimes. I would put such a forfeiture on their estates as would suffice to remunerate in some degree the survivors of their brutalities, and thou I would cut up the other confiscated terri tory into small tracts, and would sell some of to small capitalists, so that the South should be no longer held by n few aristo crats in large manorial possessions. " I would also give every adult freedman who was the head of a fiunily a small hold ing, say of forty or fifty tterea, out of the lands of their former masters. If I could not find enough in the old nlantapons upon which they were owned, I would make it up out of the adjoining land, SO that every freedman [night remain on the soot where he was raised, :toil if he could not find other labor lie could occupy himself told support his family by working his own farm at home. I think this would be productive of good to tile whole country anti to ail classes of men—to the former masters as well as to the former slaves. The freedmen would then be an independent yetnnanr y, feeling their own freedom and manhood and sell reliance, which would be better for them than the ballot. This, sir, is what I would like to do if I live and have the power lo do it. lint at time present moment, considering the demoralized condition of the Republican party—for It is badly demoralized—l may content myself with the payment of the losses of loyal citizens by the war, and the provision of homesteads for the freedmen, and with such mild confiscation as may be necessary to accomplish these objects. I shall not, under any circumstances, feel satisfied with less than this." 0=!11;l1 question by your correspondent—Do you intend, Mr. Stevens, to press for your "mild" confiscation in the approaching extra session? Mr. Stevens—Probably not. I have taken a wide ground in stating what I desire. My position is that there is plenty of time in the future to complete this work. The con quered provinces will still be outlying conquered provinces of the United States, until admitted as States of the Union. Au to the cooling session, I suppose we shall have work enough and trouble enough, judging from the past, in setting right the mischief done by the l'resident and Ills advisers. I think we shall only be able to patch up the old law. We may not even have the power to pass a resolution declaring all that has been done since the adjournment null and void. Such men a s Schenck, Bingham and others have no bone In their backs and no blood In their veins. Shollabarger stood almost alone in the Ohio delegation, for the right, and he made some noble speeches while the reconstruction fight was going on. 'rho rest wore utterly demoralized. After trying every side wind and expedient to cripple or defeat the Military bill, they voted for It; and we shall find them doing the same again. In the same way they will twist and squirm and shirk on a direct resolution of Impeach ment. question—Don't you think, Mr. Stevens, that President Johnson desires an impeach ment, so as'to become a martyr? Mr. Stevens—No. His martyrdom is over. Ho is ono already, as much us he over will be; but no one would touch such a martyr and nut him In a niche. 1/11=11 I=l Question—You think, then, that a reso lution of impeachment could not now be carried P Mr. Stevens—l think not. It would be defeated on account of jealousy on the part of the opponents of Senator Wade. The contest between Wade and Pessonden for the Presidency of the Senate was a very bitter one, and personal feelings and motives will interfere to prevent Wade from occu pying the Presidential chair, even for a single day. After Wade's election, Blaine, of Maine, said on the floor of the (louse, "This Congress will never vote impeach ment. We don't want any of Ben Wade's 'Shellywaggers ' around the White Mouse." It is this sentiment that will defeat impeach ment. Every little tricky politician who wants this man for a postmaster or that man for a constable, and does not think Ben Wade will give him what ho wants, will oppose It. Question—What do you think, sir, of the couditlon.of the republican party in New York State : Mr. Stevens—l think you will be killed by conservatism in New York. Your re publicans are what the Indian would call mighty uncertain." They have no bold ness or settled principle. Your last year's platform was one of the most absurd and cowardly that could be adopted in u country running rapidly to radicalism. Greeley has generally spit upon such platforms; but I suppose he will be for a still more diluted one next year. Your representatives aro not reliable. I. look upon Lafilin as an entirely demoralized man. Most of the others are no better than he. Conkling has hitherto been true, and I hope he will con tinue so in his now position. I believe New York will be lost this year by want of earn estness In the cause, and by tho dishwater which has been thrown around by Greeley and Gerrit Smith. CORRUPTION IN PENNSYLVANIA. Question—ls the Republican party well united in Pennsylvania? Mr. Stevens—l fear that we shall lose Pennsylvania this next election. Ido not think we have earnestness enough in the State to unite and draw outtho Republican strength, while the Republican portion of our Legislature has been so openly, noto riously and shamefully corrupt, that all the honest people in the State are disheartened and disgusted. Question—You do not suppose that you can beat New York in corruption, do you? Mr. Stevens—l think we could. Cameron had his men with their handsfull of green backs working in the Legislature. Ittihad not fourteen votes in his favor at the close of the election, but soon after ho had forty. One man now claims $.50,000 for services. tied they refuse to pay him. This corrup tion will certainly beat us here next elec tion, unless we draw out the Republican strength by getting up a furor and excite ment on impeachment. Geary, too, hurts us very much. Re is an unhappy failure, and his nomination was an unfortunate thing for the party. THE EXTRA. SESSION Or CONGRESS Question—You have no doubt of a quo rum at Washington? Mr. Stevens—None at all. At one time I thought we should not have a quorum. I wrote some time since to the Chairman of the Judiciary Committee, who is opposed to impeachment and did not want a July meeting, askipg him to publish a letter calling for a full attendance of members ; but he replied that he did not like to .put his name In the papers. I wrote to the Spea ker to urge him to do the same; but he re plied that he had seen a number of mem bers and not one was in favor of ad extra session. I then put out a few letters my ICkintilmed on ,fot4r4le pageZ
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers