Inte--pwrantrlintriniturer, PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY BY M. G. SMITH & CO A. J. STEINMAN H. G. SMITH TERMS—Two Dollars per annum, payable all cases In advance. THE LANE/03DRR DAILY INTELLIGENCER is published every evening, BUnday excepted, at $5 per Annum in advance. OFMOB-80V2ILIFEBT CORNER OF CENTRE &MARL Notitv. Tim SUICIDAL CAT BY JOHN QUILL. There wan a man named Furguson, Ho lived on Market Street, He had a epeckled Thomas Cat, That couldn't well be heat; lie'd catch more rats and mice and Bich Than forty can; could eat. This cat would come Into the room And climb up on a cheer, And thereMe'd sit and lick hissell . . And purr so awful queer, That Furguson woulu yell at him; 13ut stilt he'd purr-severe. And then he'd climb the moonlit fence, And loaf around and yowl, And spit, and claw another cat Alongside of thejowl, And then.they bobs would shake their tails, And Jump around and howl. Uh this here cat of Furguson's Was fearful then to see; Held yell precisely like he was In aWlul agony ; 'You'd think a brat-clues stomach-ache Had struck some small baby. And all the mothers lu the street, Waked by the horrid din, Would rise right up and search their babes, To rind some worryin, plu ; And still tills vlgorus cat would beep . . A hollerin' like sin. And as fur Mr, Furguson 'Twos more than he could bear, And so be hurled his bootjack out, Right through the midnight air: But this vociferous Thomas cat, Not one cent did he care,— For still he yowled and kept his fur A standin' up on end, And his old spine a.doublln' up As far us it would bend, As if his hopes of happiness Did on his lungs uepeud. But while a curvlu' of his spine And watlu' to attack A cat upon the other fence, Toon, came an awful crack ; Alld this here speckled Thoma. vat Was busted lu the back. When Furguson came down nem t day There lay an old feline, And not a life was left In hlin Although he had had !aloe, "All this here crones" sold Ferguson, " Of eurelu . Of his splue." Now all ye melt whose tender hearts This painful tale doeuiraok, .lust take this moral to yourselves, All of you, white mU black; Don't over go, 'lgo thin here cal, guttlu' up yourback ! Xithatil. Five Years on Guard During the First French Empire, every regiment had its deg, whose in telligence, thanks to the soldiers' care, was improved by education and disci pline. The Grand Army's dogs were picked up almost everywhere, except in England. They had been recruited in Poland, in Prussia, hi Holland, In Saxony, and in Flanders. They were mongrel mastitli4, hounds, Danish dogs, spaniels. But no mutter whence they came, they soon turned out French. Foreign dogs were naturalized without knowing it. Rugeu iH an island In the Baltic sea, opposite to Stralsund, ou the coast of Pomeran. Fortified both by natu re and by art, its situation is exceedingly strong. In time of peace, in consequence of its fertile soil, its salubrious air, and its mild climate, Rugen Is a delightful retreat. In time of war, it is an import. ant post, a natural citadel, a formidable fortress, whose possession has been pur chased at the expense of many a bloody fight. During the campaign of 1807, this island was comprised in their sphere of operations by the corps com manded by Marshall Davoyst, and was occupied by an infantry regiment of the line and by several companies of sup pers and miners. The regiment, of course, had a dog—a black and white poodle—named Capncin—not because he was born in a Capuchin's convent In Italy (which would have been quite a sufficient reason), but in allusion to the copper or iron rings by which a gunbarrel is fastened to its stock. The dog's short bark might perhaps have been•thought to resemble the snappish report of a musket. Iu consequence of a change iu the plan of operations ordered by Napoleon the First, the island had to be sudden ly evacuated, to carry out a movement in retreat, abandoning the whole line of the Pomeranian coast. Every post, every man, was withdrawn •, but in such a hasty way that they forgot au advanced sentinel perched on the top of a hillock which commanded the en trance of the port of Rugen. This sentinel was a young soldier named Firmin Bouard, wlio had been three mears In the service. At present, a sol dier who has served three years is con sidered quite a veteran •, at that time, troopers who could reckon three, five, seven, and even iiine years of service, were still called cdnscripts. Now Bon ard the soldier and Capuciu the dog, happened to be particular good friends, bound by the strongest ties of mutual attachment. The corporal of Um post had planted Firmin as sentinel on the hillock ex actly at midnight. The latter there fore calculated on being relieved at two In the morning, he also then from two till live in the morning would have three good hours to doze and slumber in the corps off garde. So Firmin Bouard beguiled the time by anticipating this supreme Indulgence, also by thoughts of his village steeple, of his aged cure's ancient housekeeper, of the haystack where he used to play at hide-aud•seek, and sundry other recollections. In this the minutes slipped slowly by, and the two hours' guard were drawing to a close. All at once lie heard a slight noise. He listened. "It is the corporal com ing to relieve guard," he thought, and prepared to utter the " Qui Vive." But the sound, which, resembled that of human foot•eteps, was soon followed by complete silence. "I couldn't be mis• taken!" he said to himself. Besides, my time must now be up." He listened again, still more attentively. Almost immediately he heard the barking df a dog, who came running forward in his direction. On recognizing Capucin's voice, the sentinel looked around him unsiously. Perceiving nothing which threatened an attack, lie wondered what could be the meaning of this nocturnal visit. Before Le hail time to consider the matter, the animal had climbed the hill and was jumping up his legs. It's you, Capucin. Very good. You got tired of waiting there; and I am tired of standing here. The air is keen and lam terribly sleepy. You should have brought the corporal with you. His watch must have stopped. He ought to sell it for old iron and buy a new one. Capuein's answer was a frenzied bark and a series of mad leaps around his friend. "„I understand," said Finn in smiling. You are asking me to dance to warm myself. It's api ly you are not provided with the password and a musket. Capucin commenced to bark, running right and left like a creature possessed. Finding all these mameuvres useless he ran up to the soldier, pulled him by the coat, and tried hard to pita him away, renewing his efforts with such violence that he tore the soldier's uniform. Fir min considering this proof of affection more troublesome thou pleasant, lost his temper and gave poor Capucin a kick. The dog, howling at finding himself so cruelly maltreated and misunderstood, retreated to a few paces distance; but soon returned, heedless of his friend's unkind treatment. All be did now, was to look fdrgiveness and lick the soldier's hands. "Be ciulet, will you? And take your self off," said Firmiu, harshly, as he threatened him with the butt of his gun to drive him away. Capucin finding he could do no good, unwillingly made up his mind to depart. He arrived Just in time to go on board with the last de tachment of the corps. At four o'clock ho began to lose pa tience. Discipline forbade his quitting the post; but hunger which drives the wolf out of the wood, compelled him to forget the Code Millearle. He left his station and went to the guard house, muttering to himself: If anybody deserves to be shot for this, it is not 1, but the corporal who does'nt know his business, and keeps a sentinel on guard six hours at a time. In the guard house not a creature The only supposition he could form was that the regiment had gone to occupy another part of the island. He shoulder ed his gun and walked off across the country in search of the regiment. On the way be fell in with a farmer plough ing a field. " Can you tell me," he asked him, "in which directiqt.:"the French have marched." " They are, gone away," , ..Was the startling reply. "They embarked at two this morateigp, r atepping "lightly, and without' a .word, lzt Onsequence of an order:received from the Emperor. , ? • *Alone away, leaving me behind ! I 4401 she reported as a deserter! Con. fqiitid 'that corporal; he has been my • ,aftritob , . ,_ ,:" , ' , • . - . ~ , L . 4 " BUJ . „ i .__ , , 41 ~,,. : . . . '•: / t / eitt . • t,I . . . , . J' ' - - GI ti . 821 SPY VOLUME 69 ruin. I now understand what poor Capucin meant. It is not tho death I fear so much as the disgrace." " Don't take on in that way," said the farmer, in a consolatory tone. Stay here, and make the best of a bad business. If the French come back again, I can prove that It was no fault of yours." " My good man you don't know the severity of our rules." " They will not punish you for a crime you have not committed. Meanwhile you cannot live on air. You pr3bably were brought up in the country and are accustomed to do country work ?" I can plough for in- "Certainly stance." " The very thing for me. I can offer you good board and lodging, with a small weekly payment into the bargain. It will be the best thing you can do un der the circumstances." The soldier heaved a heavy sigh, and slowly gazed all around the horizon to see whether any of the ships were still visible. Be holding nothing, he said, at last: "I thankfully accept your offer." " Good!" said the farmer, Peter Baxen. " Come and breakfast at once. We will go on with the plowing afterwards." At Baxen's farm the soldier-plough man had plenty of opportunities of proving his capacity. He found such favor in the farmer's eyes—and in other people's too—that Baxen determined to try and keep him for good and all. " My worthy fellow," he said oue day, " I look upon you almost as a son." "If my poor old father," Firmin an swered, " were not anxiously awaiting my return to France I would willingly remain in Rugen." " You can bring him buck with you, the next time you go to France. But wha II want to say to you now, con cerns my daughter. Firmin colored up to the eyes. "Unless I am much mistaken you and she are very good friends." Firmin uttered a few unintelligible words. "The neighbors even say you are in love with her." "I assure you I never uttered a word which could lead her to suppose that—" "I know it; and for that very reason I took upon myself to tell her that, if you had no objection, she might have you for a husband." "And she said—?" " Not a word ; but she threw her arms around my neck and kissed me for a quarter of an hour." A fortnight after wards, Firmin Bonard was married to the fair-haired Clarissa, Peter Baseu's only daughter. Four years then elapsed, pretty equally divided between love and labor. His thoughts occasionally reverted to France, but he had almost forgotten his compulsory desertion. The past soon fades from our memory when ,the pres ent is satisfactory and the future prom ising. One morning, the look-out man in the town of Rugen signalled a fleet of snips in the offing. They were men-of war, carrying the French flag. "The French are coming!" people shouted to each other. "They are going to land!" Firmin Boriard heard iE. "The French are coming !" rang in his ears like the boom of an alarm-gun. It told him that he was a lost man. Nevertheless, a thought struck him which relieved his heart by a glimmer of hope. He ran home, put on his uniform, seized his arms, and mounted guard on the very spot where five years before, he bad been unintentionally abandoned Meanwhile boats full of soldiers rowed towards the hillock. In the fore—part of one of the boats was a black and white poodle. As it approached the beach, the creature barked with joy. In spite of his anxiety, Firmin's eyes filled with tears as he recognized his old friend Capucin. The dog unable to master his impatience, jumped into the sea and swam to shore. As Boon as the boats had come within earshot, Firruiu "made ready," and shouted at the o pp of his voice, " Qui vivo?" " Qui vive, yourself ?" said the occu pants of the first boat, which was filled with officers, composing Marshal Da voust's staff. "Who are you?" And what are you doing here ?" " I am a sentinel keeping guard. "A pretty sentinel! How long have you been on guard ?" "Five years." "It is time to coin° down, then," shouted the officers laughing. Wheu descended from his hill, Capucin ran to meet him half way, barking with joy, and jumping into his arms. " Poor Capuciu have It all your own way this time. Do whatever you like. Dirty me, tear my clothes; I shan't send you way. I ought to have made a better return for your attempt to serve me." Followed by the faithful dog, Firmin joined his former comrades. He gave plain account of what had happened By a lucky chance, the corporal who I had forgotten him, and who had since been promoted, belonged to Marshal Devoust's stet: He received his old comrade with open arms. Firmin, In return invited his countrymen to the 4; farm, where ho entertained them with liberal hospitality. The adventure reached Marshal Bayonet's ears. He ; laughed at Firmin'e stratagem, and I presented him with a discharge drawn up in due form. "I should not like the ; brave fellow," he said, "to appear be ' fore a court-martial, after having kept guard so long." Flrmin continued a farmer. He had a large family, who at present rill the biggest and most important offices in the island. They are commonly known as the Sentinel's Family. When the French finally left Rugen, Capuciu re mained. Like his master, he forgot his military tastes, and devoted himself ex clusively to farming. Gambling Extraordinary The newspapers have a story of Com modore Vanderbilt seeing a blackleg's bluff at poker, and going a thirty thou sand-dollar steamboat better; but this is hardly up to an affair which we re collect reading long since in a Missis sippi paper. In the days when the Hon. George Poindexter represented that State iu the Senate, say some thirty-five years ago, before the time of railroads, he started from Natchez by an up-river boat, on his way to Washington. The Agricultural Bank having a heavy de posit to make in one of the Pitts burg banks, entrusted the money to his charge. Before twenty-four hours had elapsed some of the sporting fraternity were making up a little game and Invited the Senator to take a hand, and he, nothing loth, consented. The game ran about the usual course of such things, while the professionals were taking the measure of their intended victim, and guessing at the size of his pile. When these points were settled to their satisfaction, the business began in earnest. Au overpowering hand was dealt to Mr. Poindexter, upon which he made a small bet; the others passed, with oue exception, who " saw him " and went a thousand dollars better. To this he responded with another thou sand dollars better, when the gambler replied, " I see your thousand dollars and go thirty thousand better "—for, perceiviv that this customer was pret ty flush, he did not dare risk a few thousands. Poindexter replied that that was more money than he had, but he would put up his -.pile, which entitled him to a sight. This the other denied to be the law. "Certainly," said Mr. P., "'always un derstand that a gentleman hits a right to a show for his money." "Not unless • it is stipulated beforehand ;" and the gambler appealed to the "gentlemen" present, who sustained him. "Come," said the ruffian, throwing down a well filled pocket book, and laying his watch on the table, "I go thirty thousand dol lars better, and giveyou five minutes to raise the money." Poindexter bid him count his' money; and there it was, sure enough, in good bills. "Well," said he, rising, "I will Bee if I can find any friends who will furnish the funds" and he passed into the ladies' cabin, In which was his state-room. He lingered some time, returned quietly, took his seat, drew a bulky pocket-book from his breast, and laying it upon the table, calmly said : "Sir, / see.'your thirty thousand dollars and go.a hundred and twenty thousand dollars,better, and give you five minutes o raise the money." It was the turn of the as• tonished gambler to call for a count, but before Mr: Poindexter gift through' with the hundred and fifty, thousand, he threw down his hand—there being too many spectators to make it sate to raise a Tow—and, With his companions, went ashore at the next woodyard. Mrs, Lumpkins , Parple Bilk. A heavy rustling, overbearing, ag gressive shining, purple silk, scenting of operas, lace shawls, and chandeliers. Naturally, it was not well out of its wrapper when it began to bully us— that is, my wife, Mrs. Pleiades Lump kin, and 1. What, indeed, could such a silk be to a house with a three-ply carpet and an unmistakable flavor of dinner In its best room but an insult, insilkate? Why did Mrs. Lumpkin buy it ? The Bazaar, being a feminine oracle, may divine. For my own part, I have never yet succeeded in resolving a woman's ' because" into anything like a reason. From my view, nothing could have been more inappropriate. When the makers of that silk laid the threads to gether, and chose the tints, doubtless they had the wearer in mind—a round, rosy dame, stepping down from her coach with an air and a train. Apart from the facts of our little house, its " three-ply," and hair-cloth furniture, is Mrs. Pleiades that woman? On the contrary, she is an anxious woman. She has careful lines about the mouth, come of helping me in that long pull and strong pull needed to make both ends of our income meet. She has neither the roses, the swing, nor the plump contours. If she were a book, her title would be, "Thoughts on Pen nyworths." You see, then, that when ever she wore it, this opulent silk must be a sly and constant satire upon her. I have been speaking only of the silk in the raw, as it lay yet in its wrap pings. Now it is true that it convicted us, whenever we looked at it, of our ut ter shabbiness. Still we had it then at a certain disadvantages. Mrs. Pleiades could do what she liked with it—make it into a coverlet if she pleased, and leave it to flout our imitation walnut bedstead and brown wall paper. But for silks as for human beings there is no standing still. Following the lead of its destiny it must develop into a dress. From that moment it began to require : First, a dress-maker. Mrs. Pleiades habitually made her own dresses ; but from the very beginning it was so evi dent that she had nothing in common with her silk that she engaged a dress maker without delay. The dress-maker was a great creature. She took my wife's measure—l mean her social measure—ata glance. She handed "the silk" audaciously, and thrdw my wife into au agony by suggesting that the pattern was short. She was a perfect Nena Sahib In our little domicile. She destroyed our petty illusions, and our modest aspirations, with a certain pleas ure worthy of that monster. She would tfilk to us, poor minnows, of nothing but whales. She roused Mrs. Pleiades to a maddening envy of certain ladles whom she had never seen in her life. Finally shedecreed that the dress should be piped, and trimmed with satin and lace. Piped! Mrs. Pleiades came to me about. My notion was of some such subterranean net work as is under the pavements, a substitute for crinoline, perhaps, or something just discovered to be healthy . ' What are the pipes made for ?" I asked in all innocence; "and won't they be weighty to carry about my dear?" And I protest I never was so astonish ed as when Mrs. Pleiades flew out in a rage, and vowed " that I had no smy pathy, and was laughing at her." The dress was piped out of our little fund in bank. Mrs. Pleiades had not once thought of trimmings. She had achieved the silk by months of clipping shillings here and hoarding pennies there; it was the o3e blossom of her self-denial. There was nothing left for leaves and buds. Nena Sahib scouted Mrs. Pielades's timid suggestions of trimming with the silk, or of no trim ming; and we were always at the dis• advantage with this dress that we should have been with a white elephant or a fairy unexpectedly quartered upon us. Knowing nothing of the habits of the animal, we must believe whatever was told us concerning it. So the dress was piped, and besprink led with velvet and lace, and when Nena Sahib was paid also, it became clear that I should wear my old over coat this winter. But who would not forego a new overcoat for the pleasure of teaching his wife a lesson? A dress finished Is the child come to mall's estate. You know then where to rank it. Mrs. Pleiades' silk had become a dinner dress. But Mrs. Pleiades lays the cloth, broils the steak, and bakes the bread herself. Could Mrs. Pleiades broil and bake. in a purple silk, piped and trimmed with satin. Or could Mrs. Pleiades, having dished the dinner in a calico, rush to her wardrobe and array herself in the purple silk, while the gravy cooled, and I thumped on the table? Or could Mrs. Pleiades wear the purple silk when she took her sewing of an evening across the way, or when "across the way" came over to us? No, a thousand times no. You may take liberties with an alpaca; there is adap— tability in a merino ; but it was not to be expected that Mrs. Pleiades' silk should conform to us. We were to con form to the silk. It was made for grand occasions. We were to manufacture the grand occasions. For people of our stamp there is but one grand occasion, and that is going to church. . . . But to what shall I liken this in ati• able silk ; it was like the relentless step mother in the fairy tales. Wherr the poor child has wound the tangled skein as thick as fonr persons, she must sepa rate in their order thousands of mixed feathers, and when the feathers are in order she must find strawberries under the ice. One difficulty only hid another behind it. What should Mrs. Pleiades wear with the purple silk? Mrs. Plei ades has worn her cloak for three win ters and it is brown. Mrs. Pleiades' bonnet is two winters old and it is green, and I think I have already hinted that we had exhausted our fund in the bank. Those were days of trial for Mrs. Plei ades. If wishing were a power, the brown cloak and green bonnet must have turned purple under our eyes. She ransacked the trunks and rag-bags ; she pored over the fashion-plates; she shut herself up of evenings. I, on my part, watched her struggles with soli. citude, and blindly rejoiced when in formed that she had an idea. In all our wedded life I had never seen Mrs. Plei ades so careworn and harassed. My wife has always been a model of punctuality. At precisely a quarter of 10 she is ready to start for church. But on this Sunday—l am referring to the first appearance of the purple silk—she was late. She came down in a flustered state, and rather avoided my eyes as we went out of the door. I respected her nervousness, and talked about the weather, and it was only by degrees, and after quiet glances from under my hat brim, that I came to a definite conclu sion regarding her appearance. Something had happened to Mrs. Pleiades's cloak. It had always been a large, matronly, cozy wrap, the sort of cloak for which you might feel an actual friendship, and by which you might know Mrs. Pleiades any where, and in my secret heart I had always fancied that she produced in It a majestic and impossing effect. Now it was short, it had sleeves, it had shrunken in about her. It looked as if, stricken with sud den terror by the purple silk, it bad ,at tempted to end its wretched existence, and only stopped in the mad attempt just below Mrs. Pleladee's waist. The effect was disastrous. Mrs. Pleiades le accustomed to fullness and folds about the shoulders, and in her skimped di minished condition was plainly at a loss how to dispose of her hands and arms. She was equally troubled with her train ! Worthy woman, what had she to do with trains? She was doubtful about the gorgeous silk among the sober walking-dresses around her. She won dered what people said of her brown cloak and green bonnet. She wished that her gloves were fresher, and that they were not black. If she had com mitted murder, she could hardly have looked more conscious and uncomfort able. Mrs. Pleiades' savings, our fund in bank, her anxieties, researches, and struggles, had only made her ridiculous and uncomfortable. You think, my dear Madam, that I had better have listened to the sermon than to sit there poking fun at my wife? But I was riot poking fun. I was pon dering as became a philosopher, on one o 1 the deepest mysteries in the feminine make-up. Mrs. Pleiades is a fair example, not a notable exception, to the rest of :womankind. Plenty of women there are like her, for whom, given a merino, and the result is hap piness ; given a silk, and the result is misery. Why will nine out of ten of such women choose the silk ? I am convinced, by watched experiences, that there is some perverse domestic demon who LANCASTER PA. WEDNESDAY MORNING FEBRUARY 19 1868 breaks the bottle in the medicine chest that is to be wanted next in the middle of the night, and keeps the trunk in which are the childret's night-clothes when part of your baggage is left behind. Can there be a similar shopping-demon, airily promenading beside the walking clerks, and maliciously deciding the wavering woman in the plain shawl and the puzzled, apple-checked country girl secretly counting her money under the shelter of spite of cloakings?—.Harper's Bamar. Derrlsh es The dervishes fill the same place In the East that the monks did in the West. They have their convents, or Tekkiehs, too, and very numerous these must be, for the author of the book whose title is given below fills thirteen pages with a list of those to be found at Constanti nople alone. But the occupants of the Tekkieh, twelve and upwards In each, form only a small section of the com munity,—multitudes of Mussulmans being everywhere affiliated as lay bro thers. Many of these institutions are richly endowed, but their inmates fare none the better for it, since the surplus revenues are devoted to the relief of the poor. And their number is perpetu ally augmenting, for the dervish chiefs have a keen eye to the " spiritual desti tution " especially of the metropolitan districts, and, when they consider a Tekkieh needed in any quarter, forth with they organize the requisite staff, and, leaving the rest to Providence and the exertions of these gentlemen, trouble themselves no further in the matter, feeling thoroughly assured of the result. The origin of the brotherhood is in volved in obscurity. Unquestionably it has a very respectable antiquity, and probably dates from a period prior to the advent of the Prophet; but most people will be inclined to disagree with those Oriental writers quoted by Mr. Brown,* who number most of the patri archs, including Adam himself, among Its members. Be the orign, however, what it may, the present organization is altogether Mohammedan. Concerning the peers, or founders of the many orders into which It is divided, Mr. Brown tells many stories that striking.- ly resemble the saintly legends of Chris tendom, as, for instance, of the Sheikh Jebawa, who in his day wus accustom ed to use lively puff adders as cords for his fagots, and who founded the order of serpent-charmers. The dervish somehow or other man ages to make the theology of the Koran harmonize with the following panthe istic opinions—that the outward forms of religion are matters of indifference ; that paradise, hell, and the positive dog mas of religion are allegories ; that God and nature are identical, that all beings are emanations from the Divinity; that there is no real difference between good and evil; that the soul is confined as in a cage in the body, and if through sin it become incapable of annihilation in the Deity by the process called death, it must undergo metempsychosis until sufficiently purified ' • and that the great object of the dervish is intense medita tion on the Unity, which he calls "Zikr," and which he aids and culti vates in every possible way. This medi tation must be so profound and continu ous that, even in the midst of a crowd, the meditator shall hear no disturbing sound, and that every word spoken, no matter by whom, shall appear the echo of the Zikr. The dervish believes that by incessant ,practice of this Zikr the soul, even in this life, may assimilate itself with God in power as well as in perfection. This state is called " Kuv veh i roohee batinee," which attained, the dervish becomes invested with the most extraordinary powers,—prophetic and miraculous. Mr. Brown gives many anecdotes illustrative of .this power, which occasionally condescends to pro duce very ordinary results. "In my youth," writes a dervish, " I was the inseparable companion of the Said Molana at Herat. It happen ed one day, as we walked out together, that we fell in with a company who were engaged in a wrestling match. As an experiment, we agreed Wald with our powers of the will one of the wrest lers so that he should overcome the other, and after" doing so to change our design in favor of the loser. So we stopped,and turning towards the parties, gave the full influence of our united wills to one. and immediately he was able to subdue his opponent. As we chose, each in turn conquered the other—whichever we willed to prevail instantly grew the stronger, and thus the power of our wills was clearly manifested." On another occasion a similar pair came upon a mob gathered round a prize • fight. To prevent any of the crowd from passing between and separating ; us," writes one, "we joined our hands together. One of the combatants was a powerful fellow, while the other was spare and weak, and, of course, the former bad it all his own way. Seeing this, I proposed to my companion to overthrow the stronger man by the force of our wills. He agreed, and accord ingly we concentrated our powers upon the weaker party. Immediately a won derful occurrence took place. The thin, spare man seized his giant like oppo• nent and threw him to the ground with astonishment as he turned him over on his back and held him clown with apparent ease. Nor did any one present except ourselves know the cause. Seeing that my companion's eyes were much effected by the effort which he had made, I bade him remark how per. fectly successful we had been, and ad ding that there was no longer any ne cessity for our remaining here, we walk ed away." It is impossible to contend with au Arif or knowing person pos sessed of the power of the will; nor when lie is inclined to assist is it neces sary that the individual should be a believer. He may even be an infidel, since his faith is not necessary to the performance of the wiper's design.— After relatingseveral achievements of a celebrated sheikh, relieving a beleaguer ed city and dispersing an enormous army being among them—Mr. Brown con tinues to this effect: Many individuals who oppressed his friends received pun ishment through the power of this sheikh; some even fell sick and died, or were only restored to health by openly declaring their penitence and by imploring his intercession with Allah. His spirit even accompanied his friends and enabled him to com mune with them at immense distances. His power of affecting the health of those who injured himself or his friends was greatly increased when he was ex cited by anger, and then his whole frame would be convulsed and his beard moved as if by electricity. Occasional ly he exerted his powers in such a man ner as to throw individuals into a sort of trance, which deprived them of memory ; nor could they e.nerge from that state until he thought fit to release them. Whenever the details of any cruelty practised on the innocent reach ed his ears, the skeikh would be strangely affected, so much so that none dared to address him until the paroxysm was over, and on such occasions he never failed to communicate spiritually with the prince who had commanded these cruelties, nor to control him to deal vengeance on the really guilty. Notwithstanding all these eminent powers, this great skeikh is reputed to have spent his last days at Herat in ex treme indigence, much slighted by those who had so greatly revered him during the vigor of his spiritual facultlea all fear of which had died out,—indeed, it is told that these faculties declined with the natural decay of his ordinary strength of mind and body. Nor is the power of the will limited to merely earthly objects. The practice of the Zikr discloses the spirit world to the devotee, and enables him to arrest and hold converse with angel and jinn, and especially with the RUM I Cthaib, or unseen men, concerning whom we can scarcely do better than condense and compound the varying descriptions with which Mr. Brown favors us : Three of this band, called the masters of des tiny, the Kutb, or centre, and his' two umeva, or faithful neverleave their post on the summit of the Caaba. The re mainder wander everywhere over the whole world In obedience to the divine command, completing its circuit in a month. Every morning they return to Mecca, report their proceedings to the Kutb, say their prayers, and set out anew in the direction laid down for the day on the daireh, or 'guiding circle, which each of them carries, and which Is divided into thirty parts. The juris diction of these wanderers includes everything human, nor can anything •" The Dervishes, or Oriental Spiritualism." By John P. Brown, Secretary and Dragoman of the Legation of the United States of America et Oonstantlnople. (London: Trubner andl)a. 188t0 be done until they have decided con-; cerning it. By consulting the tables of ; the daireh, it is possible to ascertain the ; direction in which they are going on , any particular day, and to Igok to them ' for help, which is never refused to the worthy. These Rijal I Ghaib, as the dervish believes, are human beings, still in the body, who have done indeed with common life and its duties, but ! over whose changeless heads centuries must pass before the angel of death calls them to union with Allah, and opens their office to others, who are rendered worthy of it by the practice of the Mr. Nor are the Rijal I Ghaib the only dervishes who have prolonged their lives indefinitely by this means; there are many others still existing, ; and destined to exist until the close of time, as the Iman Mehdee, but chiefly El Khizr the mysterious, the founder of dervishism, and the instructor ofthe patriarchs in its mysteries. To become a dervish it is necessary to be regularly affiliated to pass through a long and trying ordeal. The ceremonies attending initiation are much the same ' in all orders—we give a summary of those practised by the Bektashees.— Having found two sponsors, themselves full-blown dervishes, to introduce him, the aspirant provides a sheep and a sum of money proportionate to his means, ; and hastens to the Tekkieh on the night appointed. At the door he finds is sponsors, who sacrifice the sheep on Ii e sill. Putting the flesh aside for the feast that is to close the ceremony, ' they twist a :portion of the wool into a cord, which they throw round the neck of the novice, and retain the re-; maluder to be woven into that essential portion of his future costume,—the tat bend, or belt. Inside the door he finds three others, who, if he intends to the severer vows, including those of cell-', bacy, strip him altogether,—otherwise ' only to the waist.; but in the latter case' they take care to remove every mineral substance from about his person. He is now led by the woollen cord into the hall, where he finds the skeikh and and twelve brethren seated in a semi circle in front of the Maidan Tash,—a ! stone with twelve angles. His conduc tors place the aspirant ou this stone with his head bent humbly, and his arms crossed on his breast. In this position he repeats certain prescribed prayers after the skein. Ho is then; led down and placed kneeling before the latter, who grasps his hands ' and administers the oaths,—lnclu ding one of secrecy, and thus his novi tiate commences. This is in every re spect a species of penal servitude—as irksome as fanaticism can make it. Every day a certain number of tedious forms must be observed, many annoy ing little tasks performed, and a few prayers repeated, from 101 to the very comfortable number of 1,001 times each —while, if the unfortunate murid omit ; but a single one of his impositions, the ; novitiate must recommence. At the close of this period—in most cases 1,001 days—he obtains the statue of a dervish, , and is invested ceremoniously with the costume. The chief articles of this dress are the taj or cap, the khirka or man tle, and the taibend or belt. In ad- 1 dition to these the dervish wears ear rings called mengoosh, a stone attached , to the neck, teslem Lash, and another in the girdle, pelenk. Every article is the subject of many wonderful legends, and has a hundred different mystic signifl cations, many of which Mr. Brown in filets on us in all their tediousness, but which we shall neglect, merely remark• ing that the taj is by far the most im portant Item, that it is formed of several pieces called terks, which vary in num ber according to the wearer's order and grade, and that it is marked and in scribed in all directions with mystic word and sign. With respect to their ceremonies, we find that each order requires its mem bers to recite certain prayers at fixed hours, in private as well as in common. Some of these are not very lively per formances; as, for instance, sitting stock still in a circle until the phrase, "La ilaha Ill' Allah," has been repeated 1,001 times. Several orders, however, indulge in practices a little more ex-' citing, and in each of their convents there is a hall devoted to such exercises. This apartment is formed of wood, and has nothing to show in the way of or nament. That side facing Mecca con tains a niche with the name of the' peer, and some of the "beautiful names of God," of which there are ninety nine in all. inscribed above it, and a sheepskin carpet for the sheikh spread in front. As the prac tices of the Itufaees or Howlers include those of the other sects—the . Mevlevees, &c.--we give a summary of them from the several different ac counts with which Mr. Brown pro. vides us. Each of these exhibitions is , divided into five acts, and lasts about ' three hours. The first act comprises the following items in the order we accord : them: A hymn in honor of The sheikh, the obeisance to the peer—the chanting of the Tekbeer and Fatiha—which are mere introductory matters, and con cludes with a vigorous specimen of the real business of the evening, consisting in an incessant yell of "Allah," ac companied by some such elegant contortions as those in which clown and pataloon delight, and lng I until the actors are out of b a r sti eath. ' The second act opens where the other left ell', with some slight variation of the motions and additional power in the shrieks. At first, as during the whole of the opening act, the dervishes retain their seats. In ten minutes or so how ever, they rise, and without changing places swaylviolently on one foot from right to left, and alternate the wild', scream of " Allah" with the still wilder one " Ya Hoo," butaiways maintaining admirable time and cadence. After a quarter of an hour at this sharp work, some of the performers"—as our very circumstantial author informs us— " sigh, others sob, others ,again per spire great drops," and we quite credit Mr. Brown—of course they do. Out of breath, there is a pause, but not a long one, and the third act begins. Now the fun grows furious, the movemen ts quick en, and the yells redouble, one of the older hands taking his place in the cen tre to reanimate such as flag, and to stimulate all to fiercer exertions. Another pause, and act four begins. It is someting like a cannibal dance—the • wildest scene of a Feejee carnival. Still retaining their semi-circular arrange ment, the dervishes jam theirshoulders together, and sweep round and round the hall in outrageous hornpipe, diver sified with a violent dash of highland fling, and accompanied by a perfect hurricane of yells. The scene is be yond measure exciting. Even the Sheikh, hitherto silent and impas sive, catches the contagion, and, joining the circle, emulates the maddest of his disciples. Towards the close of this act some of the older der vishes quit the ranks and take down certain awkward-looking iron tools which hang, along with a number of cutlasses, round the walls. These are heated to a white glow and presented to the sheikh. The whole of the dervishes, mad as March hares, cluster round him, hustling each other for the nearest place. The sheikh prays over the irons, in vokes the peer of the order, and, breath ing on each, hands them to the der vishes, who struggle and fight for the I glowing bars as if they were so many sceptres. In an instant a disorderly rilaBB, leaping, whirling, yelling, and wielding their weapons in alldlrections, astonishes the hall. They hug the hot irons, "gloat upon them tenderly, lick them, bite them, hold them be tween their teeth, and end by cooling them in their mouths." Those who are unable to secure iron lay hold of the cutlasses and thrust them furiously into their sides, arms, and legs. The sheikh walks round, surveys the dervishes one by one, breathes upon their wounds, rubs them with saliva, and in twenty four hours afterwards not even a scar is to be seen ; a fact, if fact it be, which proves satisfactorily euough that the Rufaees exercise their madness with very considerable method. But the dervishes are not mere ex travagant fanatics. Some of them dis play a liberality of sentiment that is not always found in "arifs" of purer opin ion. Many of their sayings and much of their writings would do no dis• credit to the calmest philosophy. And dangerous as their pantheistic notions certainly are, their precepts are preg nant with the most elevated morality. True, there are only too many unprin cipled vagabonds who call themselves dervishes, and whose freaks, vices, and ignorance draw down ridicule and con tempt on the whole system. But there is no institution of any antiquity in ex istence of which something similar may not be said. These aside, dervishlemis far from being a mixture of unmitigated folly and gross deception, nor is the dervish always a dolt or a cheat, by any means. The various orders can boast of many St. Bernardo among their founders; and at this very hour LIS CLIUCiI Purity, intellect, and benevolence may be found within the Tekkieh as ever the convent could boast of. The Johnson and Grant Correspondence Crushing Reply or the President tirours Untruthfulness and Duplicity Proved by the Cabinet. Apologetic Letter from Grant He Tries to Wriggle out Through a very Small Hole. WASHINGTON, Feb. 11.—The President this afternoon sent the fonowing letters to the House of Representatives, in accordance with the resolution adopted yesterday: PRESIDENT JOHNSON TO GEN. GRANT EXECUTIVE MANSION, Feb. 10, 15d8. General: The extraordinary character of your letter of the 3d inst., would seem to preclude any reply on my part. But the manner iti which publicity has been given to the correspondence of which that letter formed a part, and the grave ques tions which are involved, Induce me to take this mode of giving, as a proper sequel to the communications which have passed be tween us, the statement of the live mem bers of the Cabinet who were present on the occasion of our conversation of the Atli ult. Copies of the letters which they have addressed to me upon the subject are ac cordingly herewith enclosed. You speak of my letter of the 31st ult. as a reiteration of the many and gross mis representations contained in certain news paper articles, and reassert the correctness of the statements contained in your com munication of the 28th ult., adding, and here I give your own words, anything In yours in reply to it to the contrary not withstanding. Whenever a controversy upon matters of fact reaches the point to which' this has been brought, farther asser tion or denial between the immediate par ties should cease, especially where upon either side it loses the character of the re spectful discussion which Is required by the relation in which the parties stand to each other, and degenerates in tone and temper. In such a case, If there is nothing to rely upon but the opposing statements, conclusions must be drawn from these statements alone, and from whatever in trinsic probabilities they afford in favor of or against either of the parties, I should not shrink from this test in the controversy; but, fortunately, it Is not lett to this teat alone. There were live Cabinet officers present at the conversation, the details of which, in my letter of the 28th ultimo, you allow yourself to say contains many and gross misrepresentations. These gentlemen heard that conversation, and have read my statement. They speak for themselves, and I leave the proof without a word of ck,m went. I deem it proper, before concluding this communication, to notice some of the state ments contained in your letter. You say that it performance of the promises alleged to have been made by you to the President would have involved a resistance to law and an inconsistency with the whole history of my connection with the suspension of M.r. Stanton. You then state thatyou had fears that the President would, on the removal of Mr. Stanton, appoint some one in his place who would embarrass the army in carrying out the Reconstruction acts, and said, "It was to prevent such au appointment that I accepted the appointment of Secretary of War ad interim, and not for the purpose of enabling you to get rid of Mr. Stanton, by my withholding it from him in opposition to law, or out doing so myself, surrendering it to one who would, as the statements and assumptionsin yourcommunlea tion plainly indicate was sought." First of all, you have admitted that, from the very beginning of what you term the whole history of your connection with Mr. Stanton's suspension, you intended to cir cumvent the President. It was to carry out that intent that you accepted that appoint ment. It was in your mind at the time of your acceptance. It was not, then, in obedience to the order of your superior, as has heretofore been supposed, that you assumed the duties of the office. You knew it was the President's purpose to prevent Mr. Stanton from resuming the office of Secretary of War, and you intended to defeat that purpose. You accepted the office, not in the interest of the President, but of Mr. Stanton. If this purpose, so entertained by you, had been confined to yourself; if, when accept ing the office, you had done so with a men tal reservation to frustrate the President, it would have been a tacit deception. In the ethics of some persons such a course is al lowable, but you cannot stand even upon that questionable ground. The history of your connection with this transaction, as written by yourself, places you in a diffi cult predicament, and shows that you not only concealed your design from the Presi dent, but induced him to suppose that you would carry out his purpose to keep Mr. Stanton out of office by retaining it yourself after an attempted restoration by the Senate, so as to require Mr. Stanton to establish his right by judicial decision. • I now give that part of this history as written by yourself in your letter of the 28th ult : " Some time after I assumed the duties of Secretary of War ad interim, the Presi dent asked me my views as to the course Mr. Stanton would have to pursue in case the Senate should not concur in his sus pension, to obtain possession of his office. My reply was in substance—that Mr. Stan ton would have to appeal to the Courts to reinstate him, illustrating my polition by citing the ground I had taken in the case of the Baltimore Police Commissioners." Now, at that time, as you admit in your letter of the 3d inst. ' you held the office for the very object of defeating an appeal to the Courts. In that letter you say that, in ac cepting the office, ono motive was to pre vent toe President from appointing some other person who would retain possession, and thus make judicial proceedings neces sary. You knew the> President was un willing to trust the office with any one who would not, by holding it, compel Mr. Stan ton to resort to the Courts. ou perfectly understood that to this interview, some time alter you accepted the office, the Pres ident, not content with your silence, desired an expression of your views, and you an swered him that Mr. Stanton would have to appeal to the Courts. If the President had reposed confidence before he knew your views, and that confi dence had been violated, it might have been said ho made a mistake, but a violation of confidence reposed after that conversation was no mistake of his or of yours. It is the pest only that needs be stated. That at the date of this conversation you did not in tend to hold the office with the purpose of forcing Mr. Stanton into Court, but did hold It then, and had accepted It to prevent that course from being carried out. In other words, you said to the President, that is the proper course, and you said to yourself, I have accepted this office, and now hold it to defeat that course. The ex cuse you make in a subsequent paragraph of that letter of the 28th ult., that after wards you changed your views to what would be a proper course, has nothing to do with the point now under consideration. The point Is, that before you changed your views you had secretly determined to do the very thing which at last you did. Sur renoer the office to Mr. Stanton. You may have changed your views as to the law, but you certainly did not change your views as to the course you had marked out for yourself from the beginning. I will duly notice one more statement in your let ter of the 2d inst. ; that the performance of the promises which, it is alleged, were made by you, would have involved you in the re sistance of the law. I know of no statute that would have been violated, had you, in carrying out your promises in good faith tendered your resignation when you con cluded not to be made a party in any legal proceedings. You add : " I am in a measure confirmed in this conclusion by your recent order, di recting me to disobey orders from the Sec retary of War, my superior and your sub ordinate, without having countermanded his authority to issue the orders I am to disobey." On the 24th ultimo you addressed a note to the President, requesting in writing an order given to you verbally five days be fore to disregard orders from Mr. Stanton, as Secretary of War, until you knew from the President himself that they wore his orders. On the 27th, in compliance with yonr request, I did give you instructions In writing not to obey any order from the War Department assumed to be issued by the direction of the President, unless such order is known by the General command• lug the armies of tile United States to have been authorized by the Executive. There are some orders which a Secretary of War may issue without the authority of the President. There are others which he MHOS simply as the agent of the President, and which purport to \ be by direction of the President. For such orders the President is responsible, and' he should,' therefore, know and understand iyhat they are before giving such directions. Mr. Stanton states in his. letter of the 4th instant, which accompanies the published correspondence, that he had no correspond ence with the Preeident since the 14th of August last, and he further says that sine* ho resumed the duties of the office he had continued to discharge them without any personal or written communication with the President; and he adds: " No orders have been issued from this Department in, the name of the President with my knowledge, and I have received no orders from "him." It thus seems that Mr. Stanton now dis charges the duties of the War Department• without any reference to the President, and without using his name. My order to you had only reference to orders assumed to be issued by direction of 'the President, It would appear from Mr. Stanton's letter that you have received no such orders from him. However, in your note to th e President of the 13th ultimo, in which you acknowledge the receipt of the written order of the 29th, you say that you have been informed by Mr. Stanton that be has not received any order limiting his authority to issue orders to tho army, ac cording to the practice of the Department, and state that, while this authority to the Department is not countermanded, It will be satisfactory evidence to me that any orders issued from the War Department by direc tion of the President are authorized by the Executive." The President issues an order to you to obey no order from the War Department, purporting to be made by the direction of the President, until you have referred to him for his approval. Yon reply that you have received the President's order, and will not obey It, but will obey an order pur porting to be given by his direction, if it comes from the War Department. You will not obey the order of the President, but you will obey his Indirect order. If, as von say, there has been a practice. in the 'War Department to issue orders in the name of the President, without his direc tion, does not the precise order you have re quested and received change the practice as to the General of the Army? Could not tho President countermand any such order Is sued to you from the War Department ? If you should receive an order from that De partment, issued In the name of the Presi dent, to do a special act, and an order di rectly from the President himself not to do the act, is there a doubt which you are to obey? You answer the question when you say to the President in your letter on the 3d inst., "The Secretary of War is my supe rior and your subordinate." Without further continent upon the in subordinate attitude which you have as sumed, I am at a loss to know how you can relieve yourself from obedience to the orders of the President, who is made by the Constitution, the Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy, and is therefore the official superior as well of the General or the army as the Secretary of War. Respectfully yours, ANDREW JOHNSON. General U. S. Grant, commanding the Ar tifice of the United States, Washington, D. C. PRESIDENT JOHNSON 'lO I:Hr.:ALE - ALBERS OF THE CABINET. Copy of letter addressed to each of the members of the Cabinet present at the con versation between the President and Gen. Grant on January 14, 1888: EXECUTIVE MANSION, WASHINGTON, D. C., Feb. 5,1868.—. Sir : The Chronicle of this morning contains a correspondence between the President and General Grant, reported from the War Department, in answer to a resolution of the House of Representatives. I beg to call your attention to that corres pondence, and especially to that part of it which refers to the conversation between the President and General Grant at the Cabinet meeting on Tuesday, the 14th of January, and to request you to state what. was said in that conversation. Very respectfully, ANDREW JOHNSON TE3TLILONY OF SECRETARY WELLS WASHINGTON, D. C., February 5, 18138. Sir Your note of this date'was handed to me this evening. My recollection of the conversation at the Cabinet meeting on Tuesday ,the 14th of January, correspond with your statement of it in the letter of the 31st ultimo, iu the published corres pondence. The main points specified in that letter giving your recollection of the conversation are correctly stated. Very respectfully, GIDEON WELLES. To the President : TESTIMORY OF SECRETARY McCULLOCR TREASURY DEPARTMENT, Feb. 6th, 1865. —Sir: I have received your note of the sth instant, calling my attention to the corres pondence between yourself and General Grant, as published in the Chronicle of yes terday, especially that part of it which re lates to what occurred at the Cabinet meet ing on Tuesday, the 14th ult., and request ing me to state what was said in the con versation referred to. I cannot undertake to state the precise language used, but I have no hesitation in saying that your ac count of that conversation, as given in your letter to General Grant, under date of the 31st ult., substantially, and in all import ant particulars, accords with my recollec tion of it. With great respect, your obedient H. McCutLoca servant., 7b the President TESTIMONY OF POSTMASTER GENERAL RANDALL. POST-OFFICE DEPARTMENT, WASHING TON. D. C., Feb. 6, 1868.—Sir: I am in re ceipt of your letter of February sth, calling my attention to the correspondence pub lished in the Chronicle between the Presi dent and General Grant, and especially to that part of it which refers to the conversa tion between the President and General Grant at the Cabinet meeting on Tuesday, 14th of January, with a request that I state what was said in that conversation. In reply, I have the honor to state that I have read carefully the correspondence in ques tion, and particularly the letter of the Presi dent to General Grant dated January 31. 1868. The following extract from your letter of January 20 to Gen. Grant, is, according to my recollection, a correct statement of the conversation that took place between the President and General Grant at the Cabinet meeting on January 14th last. In the pre sence of the Cabinet, the President asked General Grant whether, in a conversation which took place after his appointment as Secretary of War ad Interim, he did not agree either to remain at the head of the War Department, and abide any Judicial proceedings that might follow the non-con currence by the Senate in Mr. Stanton's suspension, or should he wish not to be come involved in such a cotroyersy, to put the President in the same position with re garcl to the °thee as he occupied previous to General Grant's appointment, by returning it to the President in time to anticipate such action by the Senate. This General Grant admitted. The President then asked General Grant if at the conference on the preceding Satur day he had not, to avoid misunderstanding, requested General Grant to state what he intended to do; and, further, if, in reply to that inquiry, he (General rant) had not referred to their former conversation, say ing, that from them the President under stood his position, and that his (General Grant's) action would be consistent with the understanding which had been reached? To these questions General Grant replied in the affirmative. The President asked General Grant at the conclusion of their in• terview on Saturday if it was not under stood that they were to have another con ference on Monday, before final action by the Senate in the case of Mr. Stanton? General Grant replied that such was the understanding, but that he did not suppose the Senate would act so 'on; that on Mon day be had been engaged in a conference with General Sherman, and was occupied with many little matters, and asked if General Sherman had not called on hint that day ? I take this mode of complying with the request contained in the President's letter to me, because my attentionhas been called to the subject before, when theconversation between the President and General Grant was under consideration. Very respectfully, ALEXANDER RA:VDALL, Postmaster-General To the President TESTIMONY OF SECRETARY BR :OWNING. DEPART3IENT OF THE INTERIOR, WASH INGTON, D. C., Feb. 6, 1868.—Str lam in receipt of yours of yesterday, mtlling my attention to a correspondence between yourself and General Grant, published in the Chronicle newspaper, and especially to that part of your correspondence which re fers to the conversation between the President and General Grant at the Cabinet meeting on Tuesday, 14th, and requesting me to state what was said in that conversation. In reply I submit the following statement : At the Cabinet meeting on Tuesday, Jan. 14, 1868, General Grant appeared and took his accustomed seat at the board. When he had been seated, in the order of business the President asked him as usual it ho had anything to present In reply. The General, after referring to a note which he bud that morning addressed to the President, enclos ing a copy of the resolution of the Senate refusing to concur in the reasons for the suspension of Mr. Stanton, proceeded to say that he regarded his duties as Secretary ' of War ad interim terminated by the reso lution, and that he could not lawfully exe- ' cute such duties after the adoption of the resolution by the Senate; that the resolu tion reached him last night, and that this morning he had gone to the War Depart ment, entered the Secretary's room, bolted one door on the inside, locked the other on the outside, delivered the key to the Adju tant General, and proceeded to the head quarters of the army and addressed the note above mentioned to the President, In forming him that he (General Grant) was no longer Secretary of War ad interim. , The President expressed great utnbrage at the course which Gen. Grant had thought proper to pursue, and, addressing himself to the General, proceeded to say, in sub stance, that he had expected such action on the part of the Senate; and being very de sirous to have the constitutionality of the Tenure of Office bill tested, and his right to suspend or remove a member of the Cabi net decided by the Judicial tribunals of the country, he had some time ago and shortly after Gen. Grant's appointment as Secretary of War ad interim, asked the General what his action would bo in the event that the Senate should refuse to coincide in the sus pension of Mr. Stanton ; that the General had then agreed either to remain at the head of the War Department until a de clilon could be obtained from the Court, or resign the office to the President before the =elms acted upon by the Senate, so as to I lame the President in the same situation ate occupied at the time of his (Grant's)• ap- Dobgfnent., The President farther said that the con— versation was renewed on the preeedinic NUMBER 7 Saturday, at which he asked the General what he intended to do if the Senate should undertake to reinstate Mr. Stanton; In re ply to which the General referred to their former conversation on the same subject, and said: "You understand my position, and my conduct will be conformable to that understanding." That be, the &anent', then expressed a repugnance to being made a party to a judicial proceeding, saying action of the President In respect to the Secretary or War, the question would have to be decided by the Court, that Mr. Stan ton would have to appeal to the Court to reinstate hint in office, that the ins would remain in till they could be displaced, and the outs put in by legal proCeedings, and that he then thought so, and had agreed that if he should change his mind he would notify him to make another appointment, but at the time of the first conversation he had not looked very closely into the law, that it had recently been discussed by the newspapers, and that this had induced him to examine it more carefully, and that he had come to the conclusion that if the Senate should refuse to concur in the sun pension of Mr. Stanton he would thereby be reinstated, and that he (Grant) could not continue thereafter to act as Secretary of War ad int7i7l4 without subjecting himself to fine and maprisorunent, and that became over on Saturday to inform the President of this change in his views, and did so in form him. That the President replied that he bud not suspended Mr. Stanton under the Tenure of Office bill, but under the Constitution, and had appointed him (Grant) by virtue by the authority derived from the Constitution, etc., that, they continued to discuss the matter some time, and finally lie lett with. out:any conclusion having been reamed, expecting to see the President on Monday. He then proceeded to explain why be had not called on the President on Monday, saying that be had had a Long interview with Gen. Sherman, that various little mat ters bad occupied his time till it was late, and that he did not think thu Senate would act so soon, and asked, "Diduot Gen. Sher man call on you on Monday ?" I do not know what passed between the President and General Grant on Saturday, except'as I learned it from the conversation between them at the Cabinet meeting on Tuesday; and the foregoing is substantial ly what then occurred. The precise words used on the occasion are not, of course, given exactly in the order in which they were spoken, but the ideas expressed and the filets stated are faithfully preserved and presented. I have the honor to be, sir, with great respect, your obedient servant, (Signed,) U. H. BROWNING. To the President: TESTIMONY OF SEi3RETA_RY SEWARD. DgrAnTmENT OF STATE. WAsui :afros, February : 6, 1888.—So. 'rho meeting to which you refer in your letter was a regular Cabinet meeting. While the members were assembling, and before the President had entered the Council Chamber, General Grant, on coming in, said to me that lie was in attendance there not us a member of the Cabinet but upon invitation, and I replied by'the inquiry whether there was a change in the War Department. After the Presi dent had taken his sear, business went on in the usual way, of hearing matters sub mitted by the several secretaries. When the time came for the Secretary of War, General Grant said that ho was now there, not as Secretary of War, but upon the Pres ident's invitation ; that he had retired from the War Department. A slight difference then appeared about the supposed invitation, General Grant saying that the officer who had borne his letter to the President that morning an nouncing his retirement from the War De partment had told him that the President desi-ed to see him at the Cabinet meeting, to which the President answered that when General Grant's communication was de livered to him the President simply replied that be supposed General Grant would be very soon at the Cabinet meeting. I re garded the conversation thus begun us an incidental one. It went on quite informally, and consisted of a statement on your part of your views in regard to your understand ing of the tenure upon which General Grunt had assented to hold the War Department ad interim, and of his replies by way of answer and explanation. It was respectful and courteous on both sides, being In this conversational form. Its details could only have been preserved by a verbatim reporter. So far as I know, no such report was made at the time. I can give only the general effect of the conversation. Certainly you stated that I , although you had reported the reasons for Mr. Stantons suspension to the Seoute, you nevertheless held that he would be entitled to resume the office of Secretary of War, even if the Senate should disapprove of his suspension, and that you had proposed to have the question tested by judicial process, to be applied to the person who should be the incumbent of the Department under your designation of Secretary of War ad interim in the place of Mr. Stanton. You contended that this was well understood between yourself and General Grant ; that when he entered the War Department as Secretary ad Interim he expressed his con currence in a belief that the question of Mr. Stanton's restoration would he a question for the Courts ; that in a subsequent con versation with Gen. Grant you had ad- verted to the understanding thus had, and that General Grant expressed his concur rence in it; that at some conversation which had been previously held, General Grant said he still adhered to the same con struction of the law, but said If he should change his opinion he would give you reasonable notice of it, so that you should, in any case, be placed in the same position in regard to the War Department that you wore while General Grunt held it ad interim. I did not understand General Grant as denying, nor as explicitly admitting those statements in the torn and full extent to which you made them. His admission of them was rather Indirect and circumstan tial, though I did not understand It to beau evasive one. lie said that, reasoning from what occurred in the case of the police In Maryland, which he regarded as a parallel one, he was of opinion, and so assured you, that it would bo his right and duty, under your instruction, to hold the War Office after the Senate should disapprove of Mr. Stanton's suspension, until the question should be decided upon by the courts ; that he remained until very recently of that opinion, and that on the Saturday before the t eabinet meeting, a conversation was held between yourself and him, in which the subject was generally discussed. General Grant's statement was, that in that conversation he had stated to you the legal difficulties which might arise, in volving line and imprisonment, under the civil tenure bill, and that he did not care to subject himself to those penalties. That you replied LO this remark that you regard ed the civil tenure bill as unconstitutional, and did not think its penalties were to is, feared, or that you would voluntarily as sume them; and you insisted that General Grant should either retain the office until relieved by yourself. according to what you claimed was the original understanding be ,' menu yourself and Min, or by seasonable notice or change of purpose on tile part, put you in the same situation which you would be if he adhered. You claimed that General Grant finally said, in that Satur day's conversation, that you understood his views, and his proceedings thereaft , r would be consistent with what had been so understood. General Grant did not con trovert it, nor can I say that lie admitted his last statement. Certainly Gen. Grant did not at any time in the Cabinet nueetilig insist that he hood, in the Saturday's conversation, either dis tinctly or finally advised you of him deter ' mination to retire from the charge of the War Department otherwise than under your own subsequent direction. He ac quiesced in your statement that the lay's conversation ended with an expecte t.'on that there would be a subsequent con ic crence on the sublect, which he, as well as yl 'ourself, supposed could reasonably take pi ace on Monday. You then alluded to the fact that General Gr. trot did not call upon you on Monday as you, had expected from Chet conversation. Get ieral Grant admitted that it was his ex pet!: ation or purpose to call upon you oil Nei iday. Genet al Grant assigned reasons for the omission. He said he was in con fere, Ice with General Sherman. That there were • many little matters to be attended to. He : and conversed upon the matter of in cuml xoncy of the War Department with Gene rid Sherman, and he expected that Gene ml Sherman would call upon you on Mono lay. My own mind suggested a fur ther • explanation, but I do not remember wheth -or it was mentioned or not; namely, that it . was not supposed by General Grant on M. mday that the Senate would decide the qi instant so promptly as to anticipate further explanation between yourself and him if delayed beyond that day. General Grant made another explanation, that he was en gaged ou Sunday with General Sher man, a ud I think also on Monday in regard to thus Vat' Department matter ; with a hope, though he did not say, In an eilbrt to pro cure an amicable settlement of the chair of Mr. Sn Lama; and he still hoped that it would I na brought about. I hart the honor to be, with great respect, your ob. Klima servant, (Sig] led) Wm. 11. SEWARD, To the P, .ceident. GEN. OR ANT TO PRESIDENT JOHNSON. To the Ho WC of Reprentilatives: The acc employing letter or Uen. Want, received since the transmission to the House of lepresentatives of my communi cation of tl tis date, issubinitted to the House us s part o I the correspondence reterrod to in the reso lutiou of the 10th inst. ANDREW JOHNSON We.sblug ton, D. C., Feb. 11, 1888. aRADQU ARTRRY ARMY OF THE UNITED STATEN, W ARRINGTON, D. C., Feb. 11, 1888. —llls excel lency, Andrew Johnson, Presi dent of the United States—Sir: I have the honor to uc knowledge the receipt of your coMmunica lien of the 10th, accompanied by the atateme Asa your Cabinet Ministers, of their molls otion or what oconrreci Cabi net meeting pa the 11th of January With out ad;nittin g anything oontainetein thine RATE of AzovzirkisiNG. atillelBB sl2' a year per Imre, at. tea Unea; 511 per year for eadaad attlattal square. EillAStetpell AWIPARTIBIIIIO, 10 cantata line for the elnt, and 5 cents for each subsequent In- 4iGNEFIAL ADVERTISING 7 cents R flue for the first, and 4 cents for each inith equent Inser tion. neCITAL NOTlegai Inserted in Local Column 15 cords per lino. 3PzeIAL. Nonce' preceding marriages and deaths, 10 rents per line for first Insertion, and 6 cents for every subsequent Desertion. LaciAl. AND arlimisciartall EXecUtorie 2.60 AdlrdnlitratOre . notices 2.60 Asalgneee' 2.50 Auditors' notices ..... 2.00 otter ' 4 Notices," ten lines, or.len, len, : ° three Unto& ...... ...... ... 1.50 statements whore they differ fromanything heretofore stated by me, I propose to notice only that portion of your comtnunication wherein I am charged with insubordina tion. I think it will be plain to the reader of my letter of the :10th of January, that I did not propose to disobey any legal order of the President distinctly given, but only gave an interpretation of what would be regnrded•as satisfactoty evidence of the President's sanction to orders I.lllllllll.lffics tett by the Secretary of War. I will say here that your letter of the loth inst. contains the first intimation I has:. had that you did not accept that Interpret a Lion. Now for the reasons for giving that interpretation. It was clear to me, before my letter of January 10th was written, that I, the person having more public business to transact with the Secretary of War than any of the President's subordinates, was the only one who had been instructed to disregard the authority of mr. Stanton. whore his authority was derived ;is mew of the President. ••- . - On the 27th of January I received a letter from the Secretary of War (copy herewith , directing me to furnish an escort to public treasure front theltio Grande to NON% Orleans, etc., at the r4quest of the Secret:ll.y r ._ of the Treasury to him. I also send twa other inclosures shovlug recognition of r. Stanton as Secretary of War by both the Secretary of the Trensurer and Postmaster General, In nil of which cases the Secretary of War had to cull upon me to make the orders requested or give the information desired; and his ituthority to do or , is de rived, in my view, as agent of the President. W ill, an order so very ambiguous Its t hot of the President's hero referred to, it Ns ns my duty to inform the President of toy in terpretation of it, and to abide by that ut ter until I received other orders. Disclaiming any intention now, or here tofore of disobeying any legal order of the President distinctly communicated, I. re main very respectfully, your obedient ser vant. C. S. Grunt, Genvral The letters accompanying are !rem the Post-otllce Department, asking for forma tion with respect to a ebangu or military posts, In order to the protection of the mails, The next Is a letter from the Treasury De partment, asking a !unitary escort for thii transim of public moneys, to prevent them trout falling into the hands of robbers, On the 2.7 th of January Secretary Stanton writes a letter, addressed to General Grant, asking hint to detail u force to protect pub lic moneys in Texas, Charivari tells a funny story of u man In Franco who was attacked by four or live robbers, while returning to his home at night. A bright Idea flashed upon hint, and he began shouting, " Vise Ia Republique. , " Instantly the police gathered from all quar ters, the robbers dropped their plunder and tied, the shouter was nebad--1 ..nurse but, on making explanations, wee allowed to depart. The Empire in peace. Tlertuau itters H OOCLAND'S GERMAN JIITTEILN BO OFL A ND%S' G ERMAN TO N . R. The Great lteruldles for all Diseases of the COMM HOOFLAND'S GERMAN BirrEms Ix composed of the pure Juices for, as they are medicinally termed, L] Extrac ts) of limns, Herbs, and Barks, LI malting n prepara tion, highly concentrated, and entirely free from alcoholic admixture of any kind, HOOFLAND'S GERMAN TONIC, Is a combination of all the ingredients of the Bitters, with the purest quality of Na 71 1 ,/ eras Num, Orange, Se., making one of Lilt , 1008 L pleasant and agreeable remedies ever °tiered to the public. 'those preferringa Medicine free Irani Alen. bone admixture, will use HOOFLAND'S GERMAN BI rr Eits Thome who have no objection to tile coolie nation or the Mlle., 68 elated, will ono HOOFLAND'S CIII.IOIAN TONI( They are both equally good, and contain Die same medicinal virtues, the choice between the two being a mere matter of Wale, the Tonle being the most palatable. The stomach, from a variety of cam's, tw Indlgeatlou, Dyspepsia, Nervous Debility. etc„ is very apt lobe,' Its functions deranged. The Liver, aympa(Th talking as closely 11, it does with the k. _1 Stomach, then be comes affected, the result of witiell Is that patient stance from several or more of the Inl lowing diseases : constipation, Flatulence, Inward Plies, Fill. nese of Blood to the Head, Acidity .4 tin: Stomach, Nausea, Heartourn, Distm4 fur Food, Fulness of Weight In the Stomach, Hour Eructations, Sinking or Fluttering .0 the Pit of the Stomach, Swimming of the Head, Hurried or Difficult Breath ing, Fluttering at the Heart, Choking or Sufroc.atlng Sensations when Ina Lying Posture, Dim ness of Vision, Dots or Webs be fore the Sight, Dull Pain In the Head, Detleieney of Perspiration, Yellowness of the Skin and Eyes, Pain in the side, Back, Chest, Limbs, etc., Sudden Flushes of Heal, Burning in Die Flesh, Constant Imaginings of Evil, and Great Depression of spirits. The sufferer from these diseases should ex ercise the greatest caution In the selection 1/1:l remedy for his case, purchasing only that which he Is assured 0 from his Luis:Alga tiOnS and inquiries possesses true merle, is skilfully compounded, Is tree from Juin riot, Ingredients, find has established for Ilmelf ft reputation for the cure of these diseases. I this connection we would submit those Well known remedies— HOOFLAND'S (4ERMAN BITTERS 1100FLAND'S GERMAN Tosre, I'aEPARED 1.31 - Dr. C. M. JACKSON PHILADELPHIA, PA, Twenty-two years since they were first in trotineAl into this country from Donnelly, dur lug which time they have undoubtedly per formed more curer, and beneultted suitering humanity ton greater extent, than any other remedies known to the public. These remedies will effectually cure Liver Complaint,Jaundice, El Dyspepsia, Chronic or Nervous Diarrtaea r Disease of the Kid neys, and all Diseases arising from a Drool . . dered Liver, ritornach or Intestines. DEBILI,TY, Reno Watt from any Catuse whatever PatWV RATION OF THE SPITE I. Induced by Severe Labor, Hard. ablpa, klxposure, Fever*, .Le. There is no medicine extant equal to these remedies In such cases. A tone and vigor to imparted to toe whole system, the uppettlr is strengthened, food Is enjoyed, the stomaen digests promptly, the blood IN purified, till , complexion becomes sound and healthy, the yellow tinge Is eradicated from the eyes, a bloom 1s given to the cheeks, and the weak and nervous Invalid becomes a strong and healthy being. Pkiii6Oeiii ADVANCED IN LIFE, And fooling the hand of time weighing iIOIIVI ly upon them, with all its attendant ills, will find la the use of thin BITTERS, or the TON au elixer that will instil new life into their veins, restore In a measure the energy still ardor of more youthful days, build up their shrunken inruaii, and glvo health and happi ness to their remaining years, NOTICE. Il Is a well-established laeL that fully hall of the 1 - ern - ule portion of our populatiutl are seldom In the eu r Joy ment of good health; or, to 1.140 1,4 theirown expre".oon "never feel well." They are languid, devoid of all energy, extremely nervous, tura have II.) appetite. To this claws of persons the BITTY:Rs, or the TUNIC, is especially recommended. WEAK AND DELICATE CHILDItEN, Are made strong by the use of either of the, remedies. They will cure every ease of M A IL AHMUS Without fall. Thousands of certificates have accumulated in the hands of the proprietor. nut WIII aboW of the puhlicatiou of but few. will be obser Eltl , are men of note and of mien standing that they most be believed. TESTIMONIALS HON. GEO. W. WOO DWA RI ) Chlef fu.ltice of the daprerne court of Pu., v. , rll Philadelphia. Mare. Id, is 7. " I (Ind' Ilootland's German Bitters' is a 14..1 tonic, useful In dis- A eases of Wu d inesti‘ organs, and of great ( - 1, benefit in C.J.ftes of debility, and Want of nervous action In system. Yours, truly, Ono. W. WOODWARD... LION. JAMI THOMPSON Judge of the Supreme amyl of Penruyleania Philadelphia, April 2s. ISU, I consider 'Ho°llitutt's liftman Balton ' a valuable medicine In mum of attacks of lioliges. Lion or llyapepsia. I can dirtily tills now Joy experience of It. Yours, with respect. J AM I's OM 1,10::." Flion Rut'. JOSEPH. IL KENNARD, D. D. Pastor of the Tenth Baptist Church, Philadelphia. Dr. Juckson—Dear Mr: I have been Irequent ly requested to conneot my name with reeciii. menclations of different hinds or medicine', but regarding Ulu practice .0111 of my appr .4 o• print° sphere, 1 have In all coxes declined ; i 3 with a clear proof In TAT vu r I ono Itedmiete. and particularly in J my own faintly, to the usefulnessof Dr. Hoodund's tierman tem, I depart for once from my usual course, to express my full convictiou for yenerftl *Way of the aystern, nod especially for Ologplaint, it is tf sgle and valuable preparatio, In some mums R. may fall; nut usually, I dottitt not, it will be very benelicial to those who 11111• for from the above causes, Yours, very respectfully, J. 13, KgNN.oKU, Eighth, below COMBS St. FllO3l Haw. E. D. FENDALI, An/stunt Hcillor Chrigian Chroutolc, Philade! p hot 1 have derived decided benelit from the for of Ifoo (Orman llitterg, and feel IL my privilege to recommend them am a moot hie tonic, to all who are suffering from general debility or from illgehaee nrielng from dorutige ment of the liver. Y ours truly, E. D. 1 , riNDAI.I.. CAUTION Roofland'e German Remedios aro couuter felted. Soo that. the D elguaturo of JACKSON to on the wrapper of coati but tle. All others aro counterfeit. . . . Prlualpal °mod and klanntantory at the (Jar man Medicine Morse No. 631 ARCH tetreut, Philadelphia, Pa. CHARLES ECIEVANB, Froprlotor, Formerly C. M. JACKSON a Co. PlllOEd Hootltuad's Gorman Bitten., per b0tt10,......51.00 ball dozeu ' 6.W Hooltand's GermauTonle,put lapin quart bot tles, SI.W per bottle, or a halt tlozett e7.W. a4' Do hot forget toe:gamine well the article you buy, to order to get the gehtane. Jan 21 • 2tawdeshw
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