®fte gfotwastw UtrtrtJigwM, ' • KOfcXtBHKD KVraY WXDftn&AT BT H. G. BBUTH « CO. A. J. Steinman U. G. Smith TERMS—Two Dollars per annum, payable lu all cases In advanbe. Tni LanoxsTEß DAit/sr Intelligences is published every evening, Sunday excepted, at 95 per Annum in advanoe. OFFlCE—Southwwt oornbb or Uj&ntbx 'auuAßE. MBT (JN IJAVE PEACE. BY FANNY DOWNING. Htrong with tlie stroDgth < f sublime despair, Out of the depths of tbo Southern soul, Burgos a Avlliiiy panslonuto prayor. buco tho mighty rush of tho ocean's roll, Uv our Oatuto beloved and lost, l)y our nation’s volooless woe, liy Iho cup of triumph tost From our lips uy one florco blow; - IJy the splrlt-orusnlug weight Of me sUttlts against us hurlod, lly our heArtb-stones dosnlaiu, by our Hag forever lurled, LKT IH IIAVK i'KAfS? lly the quiet unoomplalut , whloh a ItiouHßhu wrougH ban met, by tho vigorous restraint, Upon llory passions sei; by tho steadfast houho of right, And tho law-abldlug hold Whloii our munliood'M couhclouh might Koopu In willing chains cuntrolh-d; by tho knightly lultli malutaluod For tho plighted word Wo gave, by our honor all unstained, Ah our simple duo wo crave, liter rs iiavu I’kmk: l y iho prowess lu tho Holds Which our lalr-fought bullies show; lly tho noblouoss that yields Morey to a noblo foe; by tho horror of onr doom. lly our high hopes quonohod and tluuU, by our prosuut thick with gloom, by (ho fiituio din k with ilroad; by iho heaven whoro warfares couso. by a man's common brotherhood, For Iho Huvlour Krluoo of Police, For tho sane of Holland good, IiKT I'M UAVi I’KAU* ! —'lhtt Land H*e Love. piswUnumus. A Mulit Willi it Slutiluc. Tho nmuiue was u giant. JIo hud broken hie,heavy chuliiH as Burapsou broke the wlthuH—hud torn open the door of hip celt—torn the keepers liter ally In pieces—burst the outer door — killed tho watchman with a heavy Iron bar that he wrenched from the door— and escaped with his formidable weapon Into the city. The town was aghast with the news; ami we students at the hospital aud dis secting room, who were connected with tho asylum, hud to nerve ourselves to help capture Iho escaped wild beast. 1 had gone tr> the dissecting room alone, and was about to commence use lug tho knife on a subject. There was u storm raging, and with a low soli the wind swelled through the long aisle of forest trees and dashed with the gather ed force of an ocean wave against the deadhoUHC. Simultaneously, u hand struck the light door and the yell of a maniac rang through and through my brain. Above tho dour, through a small ven tilator, tho face of'the miulmun ami the murderer peeredat mo. Hu, ha! 1 have cayght you at lasi here—ami here alone. 1 have been waiting lor you. You took me once— didn't you? lta, ha! Let me in.” Tho coolness of Imlnent peril brought my powers to action. I held Ills eye an instant; but it was evident that he was too wild; that Ids blood was up, and ltroved with eager ferocity through the room and over the frail wals. With the light bound of a leopard I gained the door, and shot the double bolt. A gleahi or rage darted from Ids eye, but he laughed : ha! You think that you will keep me out.” He leaped to the ground. In an In stant the light was out. “Walt,” 1 cried. “1 have a weapon in my hand keen us u razor. It is poisoned by the body I have been work ing on. Burst the door and J will plunge It into your heart. You may kill me, but f will kill yon also, us cer tain us there is a Clod.” Tlieswarthglantshookthe door until ■its lduges creaked.ami groaned beneath Ids hand. Then laughing again low to himself lie'muttered : “ Fool! I will outwit you yet.” Aud he stole oil'in the darknesi. I hoard him, for an instant, -pressing agulnst the wall of the building, aud it swayed and bent lmvurds with his weight. Thou silence. The din of my pulses made thuuderjn my ears, as 1 •tried to hour Ids stealing tread, ami sob bing wind rose anew with wierd, shriek, and nnuio my efforts fruitless. A thousand times I heard his low, devilish, murderous laugh. A thous and times I felt ids bruwney strength agaThst the door, and saw Ids wild face look down on me through the gloom; but still he did not come. I tried to think lie had abuudoiied the design and slunk off discounted ; but L kuew it was not bo— l knew lie wua crouching in some corner ou the watch, to spring upon mo when I passed. Could 1 stand there all night? No, certainly not. An hour mure and Har ry Leigh (my young wile’s brother) would*como and see me—come uncon scious of the dauger, until a bloodhound at his throat would choke the brave young life down there forever. I listened in the intervals of the now fitful storm to hear if he was breathing near me. I put my soul in the sense of hearing, but no human shadow of sound greeted it. When the storm swelled again I drew Ihe bolt aud looked into the night; a black pall huug over the earth and sky. I had as good a chance to pass him iu the obscurity us he to catch me. With my knife in my leelh and the massive thigh hone of a negro to fell him with, if I must, 1 drew oil' my shoes and step ped out into the darkness. A sudden whirl of the tempest almost took me oil'my feet, and a brick, dislodged from one of the chimueys, grazed my head in its passage, ami broke iu half ou the pavment. With bated breath, and step like the tread of the panther scenting his prey, I parted the thick darkness and turned my face toward the hospital. He might Ijo either here—at any step along the pussage—or hid itV-lhe angle of the wall at the door through which I must enter. This seemed most probable; hut there was. another door, known only to the doctors. I thought I would elude him. With infinite caution 1 began toscalethe high wall, dreading horribly lest some sud den break iu the sky might reveal me to the wild eyes lliat watched for me— hut no. Safely passing the summit I throw my leg over the descent, and—felt my foot seized. It was hut live dinging tendril of a wild vine, skirting the wall. Grasping my knife in my right hand, I crept along the bushes lor llfty yards, then struck across the lawn for the aide entrance. The darkness perplexed me, but I thought 1 was steering straight. Suddenly my foot struck bricks. What was this? I tried to recollect. There was no pavement round that part of the hospital. I pushed on uncertainly and feeliDg a weight in the air, put out my hands to grope for some clew to my where about. I was in an alley—flanked with stone walls above my head, I gave a sudden turn, lu an instant I knew I was in the subteraueau passage of the asylum. I turned to retract my steps— the opaque density of some heavy body crouched between me and the outer air. I heard its stifled breathing—its stealthy tread approaching me. My God! he had followed me from the very door of the dead house here! A struggle for life with a mad mau in these narrow, gloomy vaults—to lie in the pool of one’s own heart’s blood in this undis covered tomb—and my young wife 'Constance!—’twas maddening. For an instant my brain was on Ere. Then I thought there might be an exit —other devious windings in which I could elude my dreadly pursuer. Going deftly backward, I turned the angle in the wall, and then plunged at the ut most speed of a young, active man along he blaok passage. Instantly I knew I was pursued. Meeting auother crossed path I Btruck into it in an opposite di rection. The mapiac instantly followed me. 'What a t&cq through those caver nous depthß of the madhoiise! What! tragic pitfalls might lurk at every step? what black and stagnant pools lie wait ing to engulph me!—what deeper depth of icy blackness into which to fall—and fall forever! The passage grew narrower. We were perhaps, under tjie very center of the building, and farthest from the outer air. I had tried to breathe noise lessly ; the effort exhausted me, I knew nothing of the labylnths; could only guesß at our position by the distance from the entrance. I hud counted the turnings we had made. I thought I could retrace them. My strength was falllhg. I was fleetest, but he was most enduring. . Presently ha would run me down. It was a terrible venture, but the necessity was imminent*' I would try it. Gath ering all my force I darted like an arrow on into the darkness. The suddenness ®le I'anfrtstci' jintdliciciu'ct: VOLUME 70 of my increased speed baffled him.. I succeeded in putting fifty yards between us, gained and turned .the next angle, then drawing myself against the wall, with every nerve and muscle strained into preter-natural tension, with the mighty heave of my ahest crushed into silence by an iron effort of despairing will, waited for him to pasß me. I heard him come rushlngon with new strength through the blaoknesß, reach the angle, turn ltstrlklnghlsmasslvo body against tbo jutting stones. I heard him spring like an animal on along tho track. I felt hie hot breath like steam— the foam of his set Jaws flung aoross roy face—and he stopped. I felt that he was feeling for me I—that he was oroucblng on the stones. I saw the red lire of his eyeball glare up to me through the darkness. I felt the touoh of Ills Icy ilesh on my hand. Like light ning he raised himself, and throwing Ills vast weight against me, pinioned mo to the stones. All the mad rage of a man at bay surged upward to my brain. I clasped my knlfo convulsively, and seised him by the throat, resolved to die hard. It was hairy—lt wasßhaggy. The hands against my chest had a thick coat of fur. I clasped him to my breast. It was Lion—my dog Lion! * # * * * * * “Great Heaven, "Winter Keene! What kept you the whole night In that cursed dead house ? It Is near by ; the door has been open th)B two hours, and Derba and King have been asleep. I was getting on my boots to look for you.” “ Why In tho name of common sense dhl you let this dog out after me? Will you tell me that? ” “ Why, he howled likega maniac, aud clawed the door till If I had been suspi cious, I should have thought you in some danger, and could uot keep him In.” “ Danger! Well, wo can't talk now. Rouse yourself, I have hadan Interview with your maniac, and he Is prowliDg around the grounds after me now. Call up tho men. I must go after Phillips immediately.” “My God! you don’t suy so?” “Yes, don’t wastea moment.” In five minutes the whole force of the hospital was out in the grounds. We took him In the angle of the great door, crouched behind tbejutting wall, wait ing for me! He drew his lips back over ills teeth, in the dumb ferocity of a mad brute, as lie saw me, and his eyes settled Into adull, lurid gaze, impossible to describe, as he hissed out: “Ha! this is twice— twice you tri umph, wait till the third time.” Around the blazinggrate of the temp est-tossed night, we shook hands over the glad reunion, and after tho story was over, and the horror first, and the story after (at tho close of my adven ture,) and Derby and Klnghaaleft, and Harry Leigh and I stood at tho window watching tho young winter day rise over tho hills, there was something very like tears in his bright blue eyes as he pointed to the granite walls of the mad house, and said : “ Constance would have gone tliore, Winter, had you died, and mine would have been a heavy life after,” A Story ofthe Lobby. | Krum tho Wu-ihltigLcm Correspnud’fcuce of Col, lion. I’liili, lu Uiu Cincinnati Commercial, llaillual.l * There are two sorts of proce.-s through which fraudulent legislation Is perfect ed. One Is called the “ring” which means a combination of rogues forsome one purpose ; and the other Is called the “ lobby,” and designates agents living here, and employed by rings aud Indi viduals to push their evil schemes through Congress. I was turning this over in my mind tho other day, while I sat on a sofa in tho House of Representatives and lis tened to tho winds that blew to aud fro about me, when 1 happened to cast my eyes luto the ladles’ gallery above, and out of the gloom saw a memory come, in the shape of a fair face. I was so disturbed uml haunted by my memory, that I left my seat and saun tered Into the gallery and seated myself near my fair friend, and without rudely starting 1 found my memory gradually gathering up the disjointed fragments of the past, until the fair face was fram ed in and located. It was a very sweet face, not so young as it once was ; but with a prevailing expression of child like Innocence. Add to this a manner of great refinement sot off and adorned in tho extreme of tho fashion, but sub dued to the be9t taste, and the most artistic harmonizing of colors, and we have our old acquaintance before us. Although I looked my fair friend in the face, I saw that either she had forgotten me, or was uot disposed to renew the acquaintance. Bhe was talking In a quiet, easy manner, to a well known member of Congiess, and I considerate ly withdrew, as If J had been looking in tho face of an utter stranger, instead of one well known to me in timeagone by. An hour after I happened to be upon the Senate Chamber, where the multi tude of marble steps seemed to run out and How down, when my fair friend came out, accompanied by her Congres sional escort, late of the gallery, and al most brushing me with herdress as she passed, the two descended. I saw a neat private carriage, drawn by a handsome pair of bays, and driven by a coachman In livery, roll up. My friend of the law making power helped the lady in with a bow, the door swung to with a bang, and the fair lady drove away, while the .Solon came up the steps, humming a tune to himself and snapping his law making lingers, as If especially pleased with himself. Having a speaking ac quaintance, I begged pardon for my curiosity, and asked Holon the name of hiß friend. “Mrs. , of New York," was the quiet respouse. The whole of the surroundings were so entirely different, and apparently so life-long and respectablafrom those that I believed formerly hedged in the lady, that I was in doubt. But, no, the longer I thought upon the matter the more I felt satislied of the identity. And the remembrance was singular; While de* tained iu Washington, during the war, awaiting orders, I was invited by a brother officer to a wine supper. The people giving the entertainment was strangers, but, taking my friend’s word for it that I would be welcome, I went with him. The house was a plain, un pretending allair, but offered a display of upholstery rather uunommuxi about Washington, and I learned that the house and furniture belonged to a “Hoeeeh" family, that had hastily left the city before the battle of Bull Hun, putting their property in the hands of friends. The friends assem bled on this occasion were questionable. The parlors were in a blaze of light, and under the glass globes about the glass jets were some very pretty women, and a number of young men in and out of uniform. The bare necks and* arms of the women indicated a party ; but my friend told me that this sort of thing went on every night. We had a rich repast, garnished with choice wines and the lively flow of talk the last named generally brings out. I was particularly struck with two of the guests—one a slender youth, with dark, large eyes, and broad, thoughtful fore head, whom I took for an Italian or Frenchman; the other a beautiful wo man, of twenty, in fact, but much younger in appearance. I found this young lady exceedingly charming, as she was not only loving in person, but lively In mind. We broke up at a late hour of the night or rather an early hour in the morning, and being ordered away a few nights after the wine supper, and the merry people there assembled soon passed from my mind in the hurried, evenful life of the camp. They were destined to return. Could the future have been anticipated, death wouldhave satatour board that night, and phantom visions of dreadful events dimmed the glitter ing lights, and settled in horrible-gloom on the countenances of the assembled guests. To one Death would have said: “I will olaltn you at Chancellorville.’ ’ To another: 4 ‘I will come to your [re lief in the hospital at Cumberland." To another: “We will meetat night, and I will save you from the gallows.” Of that little assembly in thatsupper room, two' only survive, land another. It was shortly after the assassination that a friend sent me the photograph of Wilkes Booth, and I recognized in it the young man I had mistaken that night for a foreigner. When we were in command at Balti more, and after Col. Fisk got into his difficulty with Baker, so that I had, for a time, immediate control of the Provost MarahaVs office, Ireceived a card, at the White House, from q lady waiting to see me in the public parlor. On repair ing to that reception room T founcT my fair friend of the wine sapper in Wash ington. So far as her beauty went she remained the same, but her wardrobe evidenced straitened circumstances, If not poverty. She gave me a long ac count of her troubles, and wound up by offering to go to Richmond, in the em ploy of the Government and return with all the information she could gather up, for the use of the War Department in Washington. I at once engaged her, but did not send so suspicious an agent into the enemy’s country, until after I had given her a fair trial in Baltimore; She proved the most adroit, self-possess ed, cunning detective I over saw or read of. Bhe afterward made two successful trips to Richmond, returning with val uable Information ; although Mr. Stan ton had no question but that she carried to the confederates os much as she brought away. I loft the army, and saw and heard no more of my pretty little detective until tho day I saw her in tho ladles’ gallery so elegantly gotten up aud surrounded. That Is, If it were really the same. All doubt on this subject was removed the next day by a note|l received invit ing me to an interview at the fair wo man’s lodgings. I found her/ramedln by elegant upholstery, and yet more foscinatlngin thejdelicate morning robe that so adorns a beautiful woman By the concealed effort to adorn. A tall, square built, iron-gray mau, of an intensely respectable look, was introduced as her husband, and so long os he was present no allusion whatever was made to the past, other than the few words of Intro duction as au old and valued friend. Boon as he left, however, she turned and said: “How kind of you not to reoognize me yesterday. My poor heart was in ray mouth when I saw you approach. But you have such a tact—you have such a kind heart. I was relieved lu a minute when I saw that you stared as if only attracted by my charms.” “Why, wouldn’t your husband put up with the part you are, I suppose, concealing from him?” “My husband”—and she gave a sil very little laugh—“my husband, that fellow! Why. he isn’t my husband. We only make believe. But if the Hon. you saw me with yesterday were to suspect for a moment I would be ruined. “Come, now, this is interesting; tell me about it. What little game are you up to ? Believe me, I won’t betray you.” “That’s clever, you never have, aud I don't add to the risk by telling you.— Well, I am nolonger adetectlve—aspy! I am a lobby lt is my business to pursuade honorable members to vote for our bill.” “ What is your bill ?” “The one 1 am employed to worry through.” “ Well, does It require a .sham hus band a handsome carriage, dnd all this sortof thing to set up a lobby agent?” .“Certainly without a husband I would not be respectable; without a carriage, and all this evidence of wealth, I would not be attractive. Itpays,how ever. I could retire now on a hundred thousand. But I am horribly ambi tious. I want a million—only think of of it, I must have a million. I havesold myself for money, and I want a good price.” “ And do none of the honorable Rep resentatives know who you are?” “Why, you goose! I thought you knew better than that. Why, the ring always reaches Into the House and Senate, and some of our directors are the most pious and respectable men la Congress. There is one—the most be nevolent, pious, philanthropic Individ ual hi the world. He Is so intensely pious that he neverspeaks to me —never- theless he pays me heavily. Here is another, a most respectable gentleman, who bows.to me most profoundly, in the gallery and on the avenue, and pre sents mo to his family with a lofty air, who would look at me with intense astonishment If I were to thank him for my clothes, carriages and servants. Yet ho contributes.” “ Why, this is so damnable I can scarcely credit it.” “ Yes, it’s very wicked, and I'd rather you wouldn’t believe it. But after the schoolingyou gave me in deceiving, you ought not to wonder.” “ You mean that for a hit—forgetting that that service was in behalf of your beloved country, and this”— “ Is in behalf of my beloved self.” “ But do you mean to say that men in high position connive at this wicked- “ Look about you ; see the enormous fortunes realized by officials, and you will find that mine is not the only car riage rolling about Washington thatisa fraud, and I am but among the host of the wicked. You are too much a man of the world. Colonel, to be astonished at finding a good deal of sanctimonious respectability covering rascality. It is the cheapest cloak to get, and the easiest to wear.” “And how do you influence these Solons? ” . “Some times one way, Home time another; but always in being very quiet and exclusive. The game we play for, is cautious and cunning. The men bought cheaply are the men not worth buying. My business is among the higher sort, that will not stoop to com mon carrion, and carry with them great moral character that not only covers themselves, but all the little rogues who vote with them,” “ And you often fail?” “ Sometimes; not often. You remem ber the temptation of St. Anthony. “ Of all the dsvllfl under tho skies Dovllb wicked, or devils wise, Devils short, or devils tall, A pretty woman with sparkling eyes Is the greatest devil of them all.” “My mission is to capture the leaders. The lesser lights are left to coarser means. Some surrender to delicious little suppers—others to persuasion— others again to love. There is General , proud, sensitive, and suspicious —he comes to me with all his griefs, and I listen. You’d be astonished to know how little the tongue and much the ear has to do with this business. Then there is Mr. , who began life with a homely, unrefined wife and is now ashamed of her. Poor man, he is really Iu love with me.” “ And will all the money you make pay you for the degradation you Buffer in return ? You are a woman of intelleot—an intellect that approaches genius; you can command admiration, respect—even wealth, by devoting your gifts to an honorable pursuit.” Her face flushed for a second, and then starting to her feet and pacing the floor in some excitement, she exclaim ed-: “ I learned my power when it was too late. But your are the last man to up braid me. Do you know when I dis covered my powers as an actress ? I will tell you. Under your tuition while in Baltimore I came to you starving, and you sent me into private families to worm out their secrets and betray their intentions." “ There you go again. That was in the service of your countermand the people possessed of those secrete were our enemies.” “What is the difference, so far as my character went? But Ido not regret— I have nothing to regret. I have no friends, no relatives, no country. I never knew a man who did not either insult me or cheat me. I never knew a woman who had not a stony heart and olaws like a cat. I hate them all. I despise them all. They would hunt me down, and so I hunt them down, when I can," “But you have made money enough, why not leave the horrible business, ana from this out—try and possess your soul in peace. You are young yet—you can have many years of happiness before you." “You want me to desist," she said, interrupting me. “I have two good reasons for going on. It is not avarice, although, having sold myself to the devil, I am right in getting the best price for my poor soul. But let me show you my two reasons for going on." She walked into an arched reoess, and pulliDg aside a heavy curtain, showed me, playing on the floor, two beautiful children. “ There," she continued, dropping the curtain again, ** these are my two rea sons I cannot give my children a good name, but I will give them that whioh is more precious than a good name in this mean, wicked world of ours—l will give them wealth, and I will try to teach them to be anything on earth but what their unfortunate motherwas; so, now, if you betray me, you betray them.” “ I left the detective business when I quit Baltimore. I try moral suaaoD now.” And so I took my leave, and I glye f 7.' LANCASTER PA. WEDNESDAY MORNING MARCH 10 1869 thisafimperfect sketch as a specimen of the v .'wuy laws are made, through the lobby, In our beloved capital, d. p. The Flight and Capture of Jefferson Davis. MY EDWARD A. POLLARD, While Grant and Lee thundered be* fore Petersburg, Jeffersou Davis lied from Richmond, without a word of public.explanation, with none of that benediction or encouragement which a great leader is expected to impart to his people In such a catastrophe—esoaplng with the lguomlny of an obscure, mean fugitive, if notposftlvely in theoharacter of a deserter. Some explanation has been offered of his singular uegleot on this occasion of those whom, in his day of power, he was accustomed, after the affection of a fond and ] uernal ruler to i call “hla people,” Inti that the Government at Richmond had no expectation of Lee’s disaster, and was thus palufully hurried in Us evacuation of the capital. The statement Is uutrue, and tho ex cuse is unavailing. The writer well kuows, what has not heretofore been Imparted to public curiosity, that Jef ferson Davis had, many weeks before Lee’s catastorphe, made most careful aud exacting preparations for his es cape. The matter had been fully con sulted with his Cabinet, In profound secresy ; and it had been agreed that, to secure the escape of the President and his principal ofilcers, the Shenandoah should be ordered to cruise off the coast of Florida, to take the distinguished fugitives ou board, who had selected the coußt for their exit from Confederacy, aud their extrication from its falling fortunes. These orders had beensenlto the Confederate cruiser many days be fore Lee’s Hues were brokenult wus cal culated that tho President’s party might make an easy aud deliberate escape In theway agreed upon, as tho communi cations with the Florida coast were then scarcely doubtful, aud once ou the Shenandoah, a fast sailer, the most val uable remnant of the Confederate navy, they might soon obtain an asylum ou a foreign shore. Other preparations were made for the flight; allthepapersofthe Government were revised, aud marked for destruction, abandonment, or pre servation, according to their contents; aud even Mr. Davis’ baggage was putin order fortransportatlon. Of course, the public lsnew nothing of those prepara tions aud It did not oven suspect them. Mr. Daniel, of the Richmond Examiner, • had repeatedly said, with bitterness, that whatever the event of the war, whatever its misfortune, Mr. Davis would be certain to provide for his per sonal safety, above that of all others; and indeed this journal had suggested that, for this mean reason, tho Presi dent had invariably blanched at any retaliation upon the enemy involving tho penalty of death. But many people resented this thought of the Examiner; they persisted in believing that Presi dent Davis would stand with the army when the Confederate flag waslowered, aud accept a common lot with them and tho people; and they called to mind his heroic words, spoken to the troops in Virginia in 1801, at the begin ning of the war: “When the last line ofhayouets is leveled I will bo with you.” By the way, it is remarkable that eo little has been obtained, by the capture or discovery of documents, of this secret history of the Confederacy. True, there have been collected at Washington some documentary relics, under the title of “ Rebel Archives •” aud the pretentious construction of a Bureau to take care of them, aud certain foolish provisions against the access to them of public curiosity, have given the idea of some value aud mystery attached to them. But they are historically worthless, scarcely anything more Lhau the offi cial platitudes, dry and barren amplifi cations of which have been told a hundred times in tho newspapers. There was captured in Richmond only the refuse of the Confederate archives. It is a curious and romantlo fact not generally known that the bulk of the valuables papers of the Confederate Gov ernment, including the correspondence of Jefferson Davia exists to-day in con cealment: that many days before the fall of Richmond there was a careful selection of important papers, especial ly those in the office of the President, and letters which involved confidences In theNorthandEurope, and that these were secretly convey ea out of Richmond aud deposited in a place where they re main concealeci-to this time, and will probably not be : unearthed in this gen eration, Where is this repository of the secrets of tho Confederate Government the writer is not prepared to say. In deed, he has never been able “to obtain other than very general information of the present place of these papers, and even as to ihe limits of the locality he was bound by obligations of private confidence, which it is impossible to violate. Yet the world may know, and It Is at least some historical satisfation, that the most valuable papers of the Southern Confederacy, including the correspondence of Jefferson Davis, re ported to have been held with impor tant parties in the North and Europe, and which might yet involve the per sonal Bafety of some of them, and pos sibly found prosecutions, did not perish in the catastrophe of Richmond; that they are yet preserved in a manner and place to defy discovery, and secure against loss or mutilation—dedicated, perhaps, to tiie curiosity of a distant generation.* After having safely bestowed hie Im portant papers, and by this measure consulted to some degree his personal safety it might be supposed that Mr. Davis would be prepared to leave Rich mond with some appearauce of self possession And dignity. But after all the provisions for his flight, the signal for it was so sudden and dramatic — announced to him in the shape of Lee’s dread telegram, while he sat in .St. Paul’s Church, with the sunshine of a calm and beautiful duy pulsing through the windows—as to have some effect he surprised at least, breaking down his equananimity, and reducing him to that condition of iluster und tremulous ness with which tiie weak man receives the news of misfortune, no matter how long he has vaguely expected it, and practised against tho moment of its an nouncement. He nervously prepared at his bouse his private baggage, assisted by Mrs. Davis, and he never ventured in the streets until, under cover of the night, he got unobserved on the train that was to convey him from Richmond. He did not forget the gold iu the Treasury; that, amounting to less than forty thousand dollars, It had been proposed some days before, in Congress, to distribute as largesses to the discontented soldiers; but Mr. Davis had Insisted upon reserving it for exi gencies, and it was now secured In his B The writer sincerely regrets that he can not more amply satisfy curiosity as to these concealed papers of the Southern Confeder acy. He can only assure the readers of three facts; that they still exist; that there are living persons who know of their con cealment, and that tney contain important evidences of the secret history of Mr. Davis’ Governmen t. He has repeatedly sought ac cess to them out of historical curiosity, but he has been invariably met with tab ex planation that, while this indulgence might be allowed him, forsnch legitimate purpose, it would be unsafe, for private reasons, and the information it published might be de verted to serious consequences to persons of importance yet living, and within the juris diction of the government. It has been im possible to surmount this objection and there is no doubt that many of these papers do really involve discoveries of some curi ous negotiations in the war, the parties to which might astoand the public. During the war it was well known, in some circles of confidence in Richmond, that Mr. Davis entertained a large secret correspondence in the North; that he bad sources of comfort, information and advice there ; and indeed itwould have been strange, considering the volume of disaffection in the North—a remarkable peculiarity of the late war—if it had not found some expression in Secret negotiations, or some sort of surreptitious communication with the Confederate au thorities. Oftheextentjof such correspond ence the popular imagination has probably fallen Bhort. As an instance of the volume of “ disloyalty ” and venality in the North, the writer may mention the case of a single secret document which he was once per mitted to see in Riohmond, wherein certain parties offered to assist the Confedercy, by supplying Its Western armies for a whole year from the granaries and magazines of the North. Such important letters and other secret papers were kept in what was called Presidential Arohieves.” These, we repeat, still exist, were preserved from the wreck and fireof Richmond, and at this moment are under the seal.of a personal confidence with Mr. Davis; while the Fed eral authorities, congratulating themselves that they seized archives of the Southern Confederacy, had only captured waste pa per. \ i .~r V baggage. He did forget his sword; That, a costly present from some or his ad* mirerß In England, had been sent to the Richmond Armory for some repairs; it was abandoned to the fire there. The last seen of this rello of the Southern Confederacy was a twisted and gnarled stem of steel, on private exhibition In a lager beer saloon In Richmond, garnish ed with a certificate that it was what remained of Jeff Davis’ sword, and that the curiosity might be purchased for two hundred dollars. Whether tho retailer of lager hoe yet disposed of his treasure we uo not know'. Mr. Davis was accompanied at the • first stage of his flight by his family, ’ some of his personal staff, and throe members of his Cabinet: Uen. Breck enrldge, Secretary of War: Mr. Benja min, Secretary of State, and Mr. Reagan, Postmaster General. The party Journ eyed without accident or adventure to Danville,Blttingmostlyln moody silence us the train shrieked through the night that a few miles further was belug torn by explosions through whose fitful ohasms of light Lee’s army marched os Into impenetrable darkners. Arrived at Danville, Mr. Davis issued a proclamation; out of place there, inaccessible to tho army, and which would have been much more fitly made before be hud abandoned the post of dun ger in Richmond. But the exaltation of spirits lie obtained after having pass ed the boundary of danger, and got ou the side of supposed personal safety, did not long survive. In a few dayß after ward came the ne.ws of Lee's surrender; and the President and his party again sadly turned their faces to the South; Gen. lireckenridge being dispatched to Gen. Johnston’s lines only to bring back to the party on their route the sor rowful nows of his surrender, and to In crease the dismay of their flight. Mr. Davis was the first to rally from this dismay. When he and his com panions haddeft Richmond It was in the belief that Lee would avoid surrender but a few days longer, and with the in tention, as we have already said, of making their way to the Florida coast and embarking there for a foreign land. In the meditations of his journey, how ever, through North Carolina, the fugi tive President appears tohaveconcelved the alternative of venturing to the southwest, within the reach of the forces of Taylor and Forrest, in the hope of reviving the fortunes of the Con federacy within a limited-territory. He suggested tho alternative to Gen. Breckinridge, as they travelled together, after the news of Johnson's surrender, they received only an evasive reply; the latter not sharing Ms hopes, but unwilling to mortify them by a candid declaration of opinion. Mr. Davis was remarkable for a sanguine temperament, but it was that which we observe in weak charac ters, “ hoping agalnßt hope,” fiokle, fiaring, extravagant, rather tliau that practical energy which renews Itself on disaster aud conquers fortuue. The vis ion he had conjured up of a limited confederacy around the mouths of the Mississippi might have looked plausible on paper, but it was fatally defective in omitlng the moral condition of the South. The unhappy President had not yet perceived that he had lost the faculty of inspiration, that the South ern people were in despair, and that, i wherever he might go, he would find ' their countenances averted, their hopes 1 abandoned, and tbelr thoughts already committed to submission. But he was i to realize very shortly how morally and < practically helpless he was. His first : discovery of it was at Abbeville, South Carolina, where occurred ono of the ■ most pathetic scenes in history, over which the tenderness and charity of some of the actors have been disposed ‘ to draw the curtain, committing its so.- . rows to secresy. ; Mr. Davis readied Abbevelle on the ; first of May. So fur he had been accom panied by the fragments of fivebrigades, 1 amounting in number to less than one thousand men, and reorganized into two battalions, at the front and in the rear of the long train which signalled his 1 flight and foolishly obstructed Ills effort at escape. There were already painful evidences of the demoralization of the escort, and the story told almost at every mile, by stragglers from Johnson’s com mand was not calculated to inspire them. At Abbeville Mr. Davis resolved on a 1 council of war. It was composed of the five brigade commanders, and General Braxton Bragg (for the year past the 1 “ military adviser ”/of the President) ; was admitted to this last scene of the deliberations of the Lost Cause, Iu the council Mr. Davis spoke with more thau Ills accustomed facility and earnestness, inspired by hope, but with out volubility or extravagance. He made a statement of surpassing plausi bility. It yet had resources to continue the war ; it was for those who yet re mained with arms in their bands to give an example to re-animate others such an act of devotion, besides being the most sublime thing in history, might yet save the country, and erect again its declining resolution. “It is but necessary," he said “ that the brave men yet with me should renew their determination to continue the war; they will be a nucleus for rapid re-enforce ments, and will raise the signal of re animation for the whole country." No one of the council auswered him at length ; the replies of the commanders were almost sunk to whsspers; the scene was becoming painful; and it was at last agreed that each in his turn should announce his decision. Each answered slowly, reluctantly, in the negative; the only words added were that though they considered the war hopeless, they would not disband their men until they had guarded their Presi dent to a place of safety. “No,” exclaimed Mr. Davis passion ately. “I will listen to no proposition for my safety. I appeal to you for the cause of the country." Again he urged the commanders to accept his views. “We were silent," says Gen. Basil Duke, one of the council, "for we could uot agree with him, and we respected him too much to reply." Mr. Davis yet stood erect, raised his bead, as if iu pain, and suddenly ex claimed, 11 all nope has gone /" added haughtily, “I see that the friends of the South are prepared to consent to her degradation;’’ and then sweeping the company with a proud despairing glance, lie attempted to pass from the room. But the blow was too much for his feeble organization. Hisface was white with anger and disappointment,and the mist of unshed tears were in his eyes— tears which pride struggled to keep back. The sentiment that all was lost went through his heart like the slow and measured thrust of a sword ; as the wound sunk into it, it left him speech less; loose and tottering, he would have fallen to the floor, had not Gen. Brecksnridge ended the scene by lead ing him faltering from the room. In a dead arifi oppressive silence the deserted leader, the fallen chief, secured a decent retreat for agonies which tears only could relieve. It was the last council of the Confed racy. The hateful selfishness which originates ifc»the attempt of each indi vidual to extricate himself from a com mon misfortune soon broke out; no longer restrained by the presence of the President. The soldiers were dis charged ; but they clamored that they had no money to take them home. What of the Treasury gold that re mained was divided among them. So fearful were they of marauders that many buried their coin in the woods, and in unfrequented places. With the disbandment of the troops Mr. Benja min suggested a separation of the cabi net officers from the President, making an excuse that so large a party would advertise their flight, and increase the chances of capture. Mr. Daviß was left to make his way to Georgia, Postmas ter General Reagan continuing to jour ney with him, and Breckenridge only to a point where he thought it conve nient to leave for Florida. There were also in the party two or three of his staff officers, and a few straggling soldiers, who still kept up some show of an escort. Mrs. Davis had already pre ceded her husband to Georgia, ana he now traveled slowly, and almbst deso lately, on horseback, having arranged that she should await him in the city of Washington. The cruelest neglect or insult of ljis the Bmall town 6 of home of Alexander H. Stephens. Mri Davis, now an object of sympathy, worn, deserted, remained two or three* 1 days In Griswoldville; he might there, at least, have expected that one who had,: been so near him In office as the Vice President of the Confederacy, would have visited him, to tender 86me hospitality, or to offer him honorable condolence. Mr. Stephens never came 1 L. /. i. k * y i near him,- nevSr sent him a token or message, to htfshame be it mentioned ; for surely & mean nature is never more despicable than in its treatment of misfortune, and Its cowardly refuge, on such occasions, In old resentments or in selfish calculation?. From Grlswoldvllle the now hunted President was soon driven again ou his Journey by news of the occupation of Augusta. He had also received news of the asaaaination of President Lincoln, and that eveut, he declared, confirmed his resolution to leave the country. He luferred from the newspapers that he was accused as an accomplice In the crime,and he remarked to one of his staff officers that he “would prefer death to the dishonor of leaving the country euoh imputation.” But with such u sentiment it will occur to the reader that it would be nohle and decorous for Mr. Davia to havo surrendered himself at the nearest Federal post, and to have demanded atrial. It would have placed him in a grand aud winning attitude, one becoming a great mac, one honora ble to himself aud the South, and re deeming him more than unything else iu the eyes of the world. But unfortu nately he accepted the base alternative of continuing his flight, and that too in a mean disguise. On leaving Grlswoldvllle it was deter mined that Air.. Davis and his family, whom he expected soon to overtake should thereafter travel os an emigrant party. Mr, Reagan was still In bis com pany. General Breckinridge had left outside the town of Washington, taking with him forty-five Kentucky soldiers a stragling remnant of Morgan’s old brigade. Ten mounted men offered to escort Mrs. Davis, ■ and although they had acoepted their paroles, Justly con sidered that they might protect.a dis* tressediady from marauders. All tokens of the President’s importance in dress and air, werelaidaside; covered wagons, a pack mule and cooking utensils were provided at Washington; and it was designed that Mr. Davis, his wife and his wife’s sister should pass as a simple coun try famllyemigrating from Georgia, and having fallen in with stragging sol diers for their 'protection. Mr. Davis’ dignity was laid aside without much difficulty. Carlyle says : “ A klDg in the midst of his body guard, with all his trumpets, war-horses aud gilt standard bearers, will look great, though he be little; but only some Roman Carus can give audi ence to satrap ambassadors while seated on the ground, s with a wooden cap, and supping on boiled peas, like a common Boldier.” Air. Davis, in the dress of a country farmer, had none of these traces of imperialism which cling to those “bom to the purple.” His features, just and handsome without being reraarak able, were those which might be j-ruc tlsed to particular expressions, but scarcely those which could assert super iority without an effort aud at a glance. Heiucurred but little chance of detection in the dress hehadassumed ofau honest, well.to do emigrant. But the last device of the distinguish ed fugitive, the only one in wLich he had shown any ingenuity, and had con fessed his real anxiety for escape, was in vain, and ho was captured three days’ journey from Washington. He had scarcely expected to fall in with any enemy north of the Chattahooche river. The boundary of “the department of the Southwest,” and there he had de signed to part with his wife, and to commit her to her journey to the She nandoah. He was overtaken by a small body of Federal cavalry, originally sent out to post a skirmish line through that part of Georgia, reaching to Augusta, but now diverted to his pursuit. The wicked and absurd story that Mr. Davis was captured disguised in female attire, is scarcely now credited. Ho was aroused in the early grey of the morn ing by a faithful negro servant, [the same who has since attended his broken fortunes,] who had been awakened by the sound of firing in the woods. The President had not laid off his clothes, and, in a moment he had issued from the tent where he had been sleeping. The woods were filled with mounted troops, ill-defined in the mist of the breaking morning, and, noticing that they were deploying, as if to surround the camp, he quickly imagined their character and design, ana returned within tho teat, either to alarm Airs. DavJs or there to submit decently to capture. She besought him to escape, and urging him to an opening in the tent, threw over his shoulders a shawl which he had been accustomed to wear. His horse, a fleet and spirited one, was tied to a tree at some distance. He was within a few steps of the animal that might have borne him out of dauger, when a Federal soldier halted him, and demanded to know If he was armed. In relating the encounterafterwards, in his prison at Fortress Monroe. Air. Davis reported himself saying, “ If I were armed you would not be living to ask the question.” If he did say so, it was a sorry bravado—and, as none of his captors appear to have recollected such words of defiance, we are permit ted to hope that Mr. Davis’ memory is at fault, and that he submitted in his fate really with more. While he was parleying with the soldier, Colonel Prichard, commanding the body of cavalry, rode up, and, addressing him byname, demanded his surrender. He submitted, walked back to.the tent, and, in the presence of his wife, asked Colo nel Prichard that she might continue her journey. The reply of the Colonel was that his orders were to arrest all the party. Air. Davis rejoined, with sarcasm: “Then, sir, what has been said is true,your Government docs make war upon woman!” These were the only words of displeasure or of bitter ness in the dialogue of the capture. The unhappy prisoner, after these words, was coldly silent. Asking no questions of his fate, not intruded upon by any curiosity of his captors, conversing onJy with the faithful ana devoted wife from whom he was not yet divided, and whose whispers of affectionate solici tude by his side were ell to lighten the journey, he rode moodily in the caval cade back to Alacon, where first he was to learn the extent of his misery, and to commence the dread career of the penalties he had accumulated by four long and bitter years of war.— Pack’ ard’s Monthly. Let the Women Alone. A Senator in Congress made an acute remark the other day. He said that if women had the ballot, the beat women would not use it—in other words, that it would be with women as with men, and that those whose influence on pub lic affairs would be most desirable, if women were to vote at all, would not appear at the polls. The failure of all these women suffrage conventions, proves the truth of this shrewd obser vation. The great mass of the women in this country do not want to vote. Such is their apathy upon the subject— or. more strictly speaking, their antip athy to it and to those who are agitating it—that they resist the strong tempta tions to attend the meetings, and stay at home. It ds enough for us to state this well-known fact, without philoso phizing on it. It is a fact beyond ques tion that a great majority of American women do not respond to the appeals made to them to ‘‘strike off their fet ters," “assume their place as man’s equal at the ballot box,” and so forth * * Tne women suffrage question is wholly in woman’s bands. Excepting a few men, practical jokers they always Beem to us, who go into these conventions to catechize and stir up the women thereby glye life and point to the newspaper reportß, we find none of the “male tyrants” warring against it. They are waiting composedly to see what the women will do, and they see the women barring the traveling dozen or two—do ing nothing.”—i. Journal of Com merce. Ylcc and Immorality. Mr. T , who was for many years curator of ths Academy of Fine Arts in Philadelphia, represented that city in the Legislature or Pennsylvania,during several sessions, about forty-five years ago. On one occasion a country mem ber presented a petition for a lottery. Mr. T. moved that the petition sbpuld be referred to the Committee on Vice and Immorality. The member who presented the petition got up in great wrath and exclaimed: “Mr. Speaker, do you and* the members of this House know how the member from the city gets his living? He shows naked images to the ladles and gentle men for a quarter-dollar a head. He’s a pretty fellow to talk to us about vice and iminorallty 1” From 1804 to 1827 North Carolia furnished all the gold produced in the United States, The aggregate of all her gold yield up-to iB6O is about 89,300,000. F A WONDERFUL MYSTKHY. <;ho*tN Sitting fbr Their Portraits. Departed I'rlendi Photographed, Readers of The *Stm may perhaps have noticed In yesterday morning’s paper a telegraphic item from Poughkeepsie staling that the spiritualists of that city —the former home of Andrew J. Davis —had been greatly exolted over some remarkable specimens of what Is called spiritual photographing; that Is, the photographing of likenesses of depart ed spirits, not exactly from life, but from their presont . spiritual embodi ments. It being added that those pho tographs were taKeu at an establishment ou Broadway, iu this city, The Sun, ever ou the alert fur new ami iuterest iug intelligence, lost no time in sending a reporter to find out whether there was anything In the matter worth publish ing. He came back with such a, remark able story that we have decided to print it iu full, though we wish to have it distinctly understood that we do It sim ply os a matter of news, and without endorsing the theories of the spiritual ists. HISTORY OF THE WONDER. About eight years ago a young lady, who wns what the spiritualists call a “medium,” kept a shop for the sale of Jewelry iu Boston, Ono important part of her business was the weaving of Lair into bracelets, lockets, and similar arti cles, as mementos of friends, both llv iug aud deceased. Usually there was attuohed to these objects some provision for a photographic likeness of tho per son to be remembered, aud at the solici tation of her customers she undertook the taking of these likenesses, in the size aud form required, aud learned enough of the art to do it tolerably well. One day, however, the chemicals failed, to w f ork as usual, the pictures coming out blurred and confused, aud inexpli cable figures like stars and comets showing themselves, instead of the image of the sitter. In studying into the cause of the difficulty, the lady made the acquaintance of Air. \V. H. Alumler, then a silver engraver iu a leading silver manufacturing es tablishment in Boston, who had some chemical knowledge, though he was inexperienced in photographing. Air. Alumler, being entirely ulono one day in thephotogruplnng room, engaged in experimenting, thought he would try taking a picture, and, having got a chair into the right focus, attempted to photo graph it. To his surprise, on developing the plate, he found the chair represented as filled by a human being dimly out lined, whom ho recognized as a deceased cousin. How to account for this phe nomenon lie knew not; but on showing the picture to the young lady for whom he was prosecuting his Inquiries, she, being, as we said, a medium, instantly pronounced it the portrait of a spirit who had taken this method of communicat ing with mortals on earth. Following up the discovery, Air. Alumler experi mented further, and from that time to this has been engaged in taking these ghostly pictures, with remarkable suc cess. For the present he has established himself at the gallery of Air. AV. W. Hilyer, 030 Broudway, where our re porter, iu compauy with an eminent photographer of this city, whom we shall call Brown, and a gentleman who was formerly aleading banker and stock broker in Wall street, visited him yes terday morning. WHAT THE PICTURES ARE LIKE. Mr. Mumler has preserved a hundred or so of the more remarkable photo graphs takeu, and our reporter saw and examiued them. They all present like nesses of living persons, which look exactly as ordinary photographs do, being, indeed, taken In the regular way. But behind, or at one side of the living sitter appears sometimes only a head, sometimes a head and shoulders, and sometimes the full length of another persou, rather indistinct and shadowy, but still in many cases clearly enough deflued for a likeness to be recognized. There arc, our reporter was told, cases in which the spirit likeness have been taken without any living sitter ; others taken by the help of a photograph of a living person, which has been sent for the purpose; and others in the night time. REMAKKAIiLK EXPERIENCES. One of the most remarkable of these strange pieces of work isa picture taken fur the ex-banker above mentioned. Several years ago he lest a wife to whom lie was tenderly attached, and who, as he believes, has never ceased to be pres ent in her spiritual form with him. A day or two ago he sat to Air. Mumler, aud on the plate there came along with bis an image of a lady, which lie and his friends all declare to be a correct likeness of his deseased wife. The face is perfectly distinct, one arm is thrown round her husband's neck, so that her hand, holding a branch of what seems to be lilacs, comes in front of his breast. Another picture being taken, the same figure appeared in a differnt attitude, pointing with one hand upward. On a third trial, however, this .figure disap peared, and the head of an unknown child came instead. Another picture shown our reporter is that of a well-known, real estate broker down town, near whom appears a lovely child’s face, fit for one of Raphael's cherubs. Mr. Alumler could not tell, however, of whom it was a likeness. One particularly touching picture was taken fora mother who, not long ago, lost a darling boy. As she sat before the camera she mentally said, “ Willie, I wish you would come and place your self us you used to when you said your prayers to me,” and in response to her silent wish there appears a child resting his head upon her bosom, which she uvers 1b a perfect likeness of her boy. At a spiritual seance that evening, a message was received, purporting to be from the child just mentioned, to the effect that if his father would sit to Mr. Mumler, a better picture of him still would be obtained. His father accord ingly came and sat und In the picture obtained there appears within the father’s arm a charming boy of appar ently ten years of age, which is said by both father and mother to be their child beyond a doubt. An elderly man, having sat for his likeness, found it accompanied by that of a lady to whom he had been eugaged twenty years ago, and of whose relation with him his own family had not been aware. Sitting a secoDtl time, he got the likeness of a sou who was killed several years ago in Arkansas. A distinguished miniature artist of this city, having tried the experiment, was rewarded with a portrait of his aged mother. A lady's portrait was also shown, ac companied by that of a clergyman to whom she was once engaged, but who has since died, and whom she had not seen for twenty years. Many other equally wonderful things were exhibit ed, but the general facts in all are the same. Of some pictures, of which Mr. Mumler had not retained copies, ho gives the following account: “ The first is a portrait of Mr. Mum ler himself, with one hand on a chair, the other holding the black cloth cover ing just taken from thecamera. In the chair sits a half defined female form, apparently about twelve or fourteen years old. This was at once recognized us a deceased female relative. “Thesecond picture has a lady spirit sitting on a chair, with a white, unde fined mass of something behind her, like two or three pillowß. The features are quite sunken, with aßerious expres sion. This is said to hp a likeness of the spirit sister of Mr. J. J. Ewer, as she looked when wasted by consump tion. The father of the deceased fully recognized the likeness, as do the rest of the family. “ The next is an elderly lady, leaning on a chair, In which sits a faintly de fined form of a young man playing upon a guitar. This figure is shown more fully than the last, one leg being visible to below the knee, the other not bejftg visibleatall—looksasif moved, leaving only a blur, This was at once recog nized as a deceased brother who made guitars, and was fond of ploying upon them. “ Another is a female figure leaning upon a chair, the hands placed together, and eyes elevated as in prayer. The spirit appears of a larger size, the face and bust only visible. “ Another is a gentleman sitting with the edge of a white marble table near him. The spirit is behind him, and a little smaller—a female figure, with the hair dressed quite plain and Quakerish. asmaU white collar about the neck, tied with a dark ribbon, a close fitting dresß, visible only to the waist. “A gentleman from fllinols sat for NUMBER 10 bis portrait,and ralsedtbd right hand ns If holding something. Ho was told thnt was a very uncouth attitude, hut he said, ‘No matter: take it so/ When the plate was developed, behold there ant upon the raised arm a child, leaning Its head upon the sitter’s shoulder. This child is not very dearly deilned ; it np pears a Uttle larger .than lu nature, as if nearer the camera than the arm It sits upon. The dress is transparent, with the hand aud arm of the sitter seeu through It.” OUK IiEI’OKTKII HKES WILAT CAN' JJE DONE FOK HIM. Hla curiosity being excited by all these marvels, our reporter thought he would like to see what spirit would ait along with him. But iirst he requested his photographic friend, whom wo have called Brown; to go through the pro cess himself, ami watch the various steps of it. Mr. Brown accordingly .went uj> stairs to tho skylight room with Mr. Mumler, ami prepared the sensitive plate himself from tho nak?d glass. Sitting down before tho camera, no waited the usual time, and then with his own hands “developed” the nega tive. At the side of his face there came that of a middle-aged man, with a dark beard, whom ho did not recognize. Then came our reporter's turn. He, too, saw tho clean glass rubbed ami polished, tho collodion poured on, the plate put luto the nitrate of sliver bath, aud taken out ami put into tho groove. But on sitting, there came out in the negative the same face that hud appear ed In Mr. Brown's picture. To deter mine who this “ mutual friend” could be, the party concluded to wnlt and get sun proofk from both the negatives. a’new SITTER. While waitiug for these proofs, an elderly gentleman went’u]), and suc ceeded In getting tho portraits of two spirits, neither of which, however, lie could recognize from the negative, aud had to wait for the proofs. an accident—the kxi’uhiMi:N'i r;m:i> In drying the negative taken for our reporter over the lamp, the glues was shivered to pieces, and lie was icqucsted to sit once more. This time, too, lie watched the process from beginning to end. While In the chair, however, he thought he would try the effect of calling to hla mind the appearance of his father, as he looked just before he died, some eleven years ago. This time t lie negutlvo gave a face in prollle rather dim, but in general outline, ho must confess, very like his father as he thought of him. HOW IS THE THING DONE'.* Of course, everybody will ask this question, and answer it according to his own notions. Sceptics will insist that there is some trick, and that the ghost pictures are obtained by using lay fig ures or old photograph negatives, or by some other expedient of that kind. The difficulty in the way of this ex planation is that tho photographer whom wo have called Brown, and who, if wc gave his real name, would be instantly recognized as excelleutauthorityon the subject, says that there is no process known to the trade by which tho thing could be done by any unfair meaus without its being instantly fuuud out. A prepared plate must be used wlthlu five minutes after it comes out of the nitrate of silver bath, so that It is im possible.that an image could be clearly Impressed on it, and yet leave it so that the living sitter could be taken as clear ly as he is. Besides, lie wont through tho process of preparing the plate him self, as we have already mentioned, and yet another face than his own caine, without his seeing any person near him. Another photographer of the name of Guay, whom our reporter met at Mr. Mumier’s room, stated that he had spent three weeks in watching Mr. Mumler and going through the process again and again with his own hands, and had not succeeded in detecting any imposture. MR. MUMLER’S THEORY Mr. Mumler says that he really be lieves the pictures are produced by de parted spirits who are attached to the sitters by affection or relationship or affinity. By some inscrutable meaus they have the power of aflecLlug the chemicals used in the process, and im pressing on tho sensitive 111 m their image. airosTs visim.H to the naked kyi-: Mrs. Mumler, who is the lady by whom Mr. Mumler was led into the business, having since married him, asserts that in many instances she has seen behind the living Hitter the identi cal spirits whose likenesses have after wards appeared in the photograph. She says, when the living person sits down, there comes near him, at first, what looks like a cloud ; then it condense* into something likea human form ; and finally it comes out clear and brighter than the sunlight, to her, in a distinctly defined image. While tho portraits are being taken, she and her husband both place their hands upon the camera to assist the spirits by their personal ani mal magnetism. EFFECT OF THE WEATHER ON Till: PROCESS. When the weather is damp, the ob taining of these spirit photographs is very difficult and sometimes impossi ble. When, however, Mr. and Mrs. Mumler can get the assistance of another strong medium, as, for example, Miss Fox, even the dampness will not inter fere with it; and the portraits of the banker’s wife, already described, were got on just such a day with Miss Fox’s help, (dear bright days, on the con trary, are favorable, but even on the.ne Mr. Mumler can take only a f4w pic tures, in consequence of his vital forces becoming exhausted by the ellbrt re quired. WIIAT or It REPORTER THINKS A HOt'T IT he declines to say, If there Is any trick used, he does not know what it is. Hu gives us the facts, and wo give them to ourreadersto think aboutas they pleuse. Tho whole thing is a marvel any way, and deserves to be investigated bv sci entific men.’From the description givun us, Mr. and Mrs. Mumler are perfectly frank, iugeuuous persons, with no ap pearance of lmposture about thorn. They court the most rigorous investigation, and willexteud every facility for inquiry to persons coming properly accredited. —N, Y. Sum. A DlHttUlllty King. There is authority for sluiing Unit inves tigHtlons are iu progress which, if success ful, will astonish tho country. Under ad vices privately received from C.Vn. Buch anan, Meade, and Oillcm, several very expert detectives of the War Department are at work to expose tho existent of a huge political disability ring, ramifying within and out of Congress, of which the purpose is to secure tho passage through Congress of acts relieving any ox-rebel of ineligibility, always provided that a sum, said to bo twenty-live dollars, is puid cash down for each name. In this nefarious business it is alleged that adventurers, both male aud female, who In tlio days of Baker and Stanton dabbled in par dons on a cash basis, are engaged. The concern, it is said, resembles u sort ot national bureau with head officers here ami with branch establishments in Aflame, Charleston, New Orleans and Richmond. The men etnployod in it are said to be quite prominent carpet buggers and purple wo men, with a gloss of gentility and the man ners of thorough‘lobbyists about them.—• These latter are the must efficient, and are alleged to receive the moiety of the money. Their tactics aro stated to be to use plain words, to get the carpet-bag Congressmen on a string, and then either let tuem into tho secret or come the delicate over them, and (coquette them into proposing names for political relief. In this connection it can be stated that the Judiciury Commit tees almost invariably relieve such men as tho carpet-baggers represent to bo un questionably sound on tho Radical gouao. For weeks past, too, tlio hotels have been disagreeably characterized by women from the North, who are beyond doubt smart, handsome, und sharp,* but about whom hangs a something which causes them to find their associates not among tho recog nizetfeladles, but wholly among men of a certain class, whoso wives are not hero, to say tho least. By some strange nlfinity the first persons theso women make up to are the carpet-bag Congressmen, and the latter beau them out, drive them out, dine and wine them, and appear to realizo in their company the aspirations they huvo all win ter vainly indulged to get received into ac knowledged society. It is possible that the detectives may be brought up at first, us the resources of the ring are great, and It can afford anything rather tlmu discovery. So far no Congressmen have been implicated, except as tho dupes and unconscious tools of outside operators ; but the investigation is very immuture yet, and much is consid ered to be yet found ont.— N. Y. World. The will of James T. Brady, tlio grna New York lawyer, has been proved. H V sister Annie receives $5,000, fiis brother Johp a portrait of Washington, by Peale, and various articles of jewelry arelelt to other members of the family. Mr. Brady lived very nearly up to his income, and did not loavo much propnrty. BATE OF ADVERTISING. Bubinxss Advektibxhkhts, Sl2 a year per Snare of tea lines; $S per year for each ad- Hlonal square. Heal Estate Advertising, lOoent* a line lor the drat, and 5 cents for each subsequent In sertion. Orn krai. Advertising 7 cents a lino for the tlrs?, ami i eonts for each subsequent Inser tion. Special Noriass Inserted In Local Column 15 cents per line. Special Notices preceding marriages and deaths, 10 cents per line for first Insertion and 6 cents for every subsequent Insertions Legal and othr a notices— Executors' 2.50 Administrators' notices 2.50 Assignees' notices .. 2.50" Auditors' notloes, .. 2.00 Other “Notices,''ten linos, or loss, Z three times .. 1.50 New* Itfiim, Longfellow und his family uro still In Rome. The pardons of Spangler und Arnold Imvo been Issued. Tho West Virginia Legislature passed the Suffrage Amendment yesterday. Tho Wisuouslu Senate has Indeiluitoly postponed tho House hill to submit feumlo suffrugo to the people of tho Stale. Tho municipal election at Hock Island, 111., on Tuesday, was curried by the Demo crats. Goorgo Brands Train’s real cslate at Omaha has risen flftoon hundred per eenl. since purebnso. The Treasury warrant* issued during I’obruury to meet the Government expen ses, amnunlod to §1 Virginia loads tho Stales in Speakers as In Presidents—her sons have held the Speakership fourteen years. Oil April 1, lii.TJ, the General Omul at Boston awarded twenty shillings damages in a breach of promise ease. Christ Olmreli, lloslon, pnssesM-s a com munion service which was the gilt of K ing Ueorgo 11, in 173:’.. Daniel Pratt, tin* gnat American Tm\el* ler, has been elected iv delegate to represent die Yale students at l Do In augural Hall. “Old Pluto" Is Ilrownlow’s pet tmmo In Motuphls. Nor Is It Inappropriate, as Pluto was one of the m/cmal drihV.s. Dr. J. G. Holland, (" Timothy Titcomb”) at last u'ceounis, was In Naples. Pml'essor Perkins, the astronomer, is ulso there. A wager of $I(),0')0 is now-pending on Hen Wndo’s Cabinet chances, between two po litical gnossers of Ohio and New York. The wicked old K lng*nf Holland has been obltgeil to sell the best paintings Iron) his private gallery to satisfy the craving of Madame Blanche for diamonds. James Hrrtoks, of New York, is tho eldest, and C. (’. lioviren, of South Carolina, issahl to be the handsomest and youngest Con gressman. Onl. Van Horn, an ex-uUlernmn, has been held to answer in Chicago for shooting at his two daughters. < »nu of: horn wua slight ly wounded. It is not true that the late Kev. Henry A. Wise, Jr., was the last surviving son oi' the Kx Governor. Two are still living in Richmond— one a physician and tho other a lawyer. Tin* semi-centennial anniversary of ndd will be observed at Topeka, Kan sas, t he -lilh of April ; address by H. ,1. 1«\ Hanna, ol Nulina, a Past (fraud Muster of Illinois. Kov. Miss Tupper now ministers to tin* rniversfllists' .Society in Monasha. Wiscon sin. Hast week the admiring youths of lhe congregation presented her with a splendid gold watch. I nder the new franking law, members of Congress must affix their signatures in their own handwriting, in all eu«es. Letter* to Senators and members are no lunger free of postago. 1 lie Now \ ork bricklayers, hold waiters, house painters, journeyman tailorH, and gas and steam titters mat all preparing for "strikes" during tho spring or summer mouths. ’1 ho authorities of Cornell I’nlverslty at Ithaca, N. Y., have dancing at tho college receptions, and five of the clergymen oftlint plncu have sunt to Ihu faculty a letter of remonstrance. Johu Hancock gave a large* party In Con cert Hall, Hose on, just al'tor tho close of tlx* Revolution, tho Invitatlous to which were printed on the backs of playing cards, there being no blunk curds in tho country. Three million dollars have been sub scribed to tho stock of the company that iH in bridge tho Mississippi at Ht. Louis, and this sum being largo enough, tho subserlp - tioti booksarudosed. The Now Jersey Legislature has passed tho hill, sotno time ago introduced, to legal ize tho anto-nuptial ugreomeut madn be tween Charles K. Laudis aud Commodore Meade's daughter. All tho tobacco factories in Leesburg and Koxbnro, N. ('.. have been closed by tho government officers, and it is reported that thesainois trup of all tint factories In tho whole Greensboro' district. Sebastopol still presents a dreary picture of ruined grandeur. P.uoflos* houses, bro ken plllurs, und pierced walls line street atterstrect. Tho ruins of tin* superb docks and Government establishments are parti-- idarly impressive. Out of tho 110,000 shopmen lu Carls not mnro than a hundred earn fl,ooo a year, though they work from twelve losevuntuen hours a day. Thuy uro now moving for an amelioration of tlioir condition. Tho Now York committee tn prn«ont a house and subscription of gUiu.oiiu m oral Sherman, performed that duty at (lon era! drum's headquarters in Washington. Thu commit too consisted of A. T. Stewart Hamilton Fish, Win. 11, Asplnwull und Win, Scott. Mario Lo (.’ours, a young French girl, at Pittsburg, henrl-broken at tho announce ment other paramour and seducer, made during a quarrel, that he would leave her iorover, ended bor unhappy existence with a largo dose of sulphate morphia on Friday lait. There is a very curious monument in Mugnolia Cemetery, Charleston, eroded by tho late Jlenry Wise, an Englishman, over the grave of his wifo. It is a triumphal arch, representing the gate of Heaven, or namented with soashelU and stained glass. A kneeling female figure rests under tho arch, with a model ship and a c,shlu>i con taining a boquet of shells, a wedding hand kerchief, ring and necktie, a small English Mug, und other curious relics. The whole is covered with a canvas canopy. srpl golltfS, IT'NTATK OF F It/, AII FT II HFlin, LATH j of Pen u i wn., UeeooHtil.—Loti*' r* of Ad m I n - lhtrutloii on said cnUiio having buou grunted to the uiKlnrHlgned, all parsons In debt on l hero in lire requested to makolmmedlute payment, pud those having claims or dumands against thu sumo will present them fur settlement to thu undendgued, ru-idlng lu said township. KMANL'KIi KEKNKK, Administrator. inar.MJiwtJ ESTA IKOKhWIU KKM.F.n. I.ATE OF West Donegal iwp., deceased.—Letters tea. tuinoniary on said 0-lnte having (icon grunted to the undersigned, all persons Indebted i here to are requested to make Immediate payment, nnd those having domnnds against the rf«mo will present them lorseitlem. nt to the under signed, residing lu the liormigh’of Kll/.theth- JflWTi, HAMIJKDKHY, mar;i-(Jtw'!( Executor. } /STATE OF JOHN P. PYI.E, I.ATK OF A .J Lancaster city, deceased.—Lelli rs testa- mentary on said estate having been granted to toe undersigned, all persons Indebted thereto, are Mjuehlea to makti Immediate) settlement, and mono having claims nr demands against the same, will present them wit mmi doiuy for settlement to too undersigned residing in said city. LoUIHA myßum foHHJtwU Executrix. Notice— in thkcouut of con mo* Pleas of Lancaster county.—ln the matter of the application of “The Dorman Koforined /.lon's Church of KlUuheth twp., Lancaster county," for a charter of Incorporation, pro- Bonled Jauuury lSih, WiJ, by Wtu. It Wilsou, Attorney for Petitioner; and the Court direct ed the same to be Hied, and notice to he given, that If no sulJlclent, reason le shawn lit the contrary the said chnrlor wtlt be granted at tho next terra of said Court. feh“Mtfwr»J . W. L. PEAK. Prolh'y. ANSIOVEKM' NOTICE.—ASSKJN El) EN tate of Henry Krelder, of Eden townlnp, Lancaster