jiE DJLLAit PER ANNUM INVARIABLY IN ADVANCE.
TOWANDA:
Thursday Morning, February 5, 1863.
(Original tMrg.
(Written for the Bradford Reporter.)
MY BROTHERS, THREE.
Wo -dial! nibs our absent brothers,
When the snow flakes fall around—
And the wind in mournful whispers,
Echo's forth a doleful sound.
When the stars are brightly shining,
Shedding forth their golden light,
When the sable robe of evening,
Covers earth with darken'd night.
When we breathe our prayers at evening,
We remember brothers dear ;
Askiu" GOD to guide and save them,
Through all dangers that are uear !
On the gory fields of battle,
Where the shells and bullets fall,
Guard them. Father—shield, protect them,
Sjve my brothers, one and all.
When we gather 'round the fireside,
By the old familiar hearth,
Then, perhaps, my three dear orotliers,
Hot upon the cold damp earth '.
Win can tell the grief and sorrow,
Tliat a sister holds concealed,
When, perhaps, her noble brothers,
Sleep upon the battle field?
■nti. Fa' M-I'
511 cll cit £a h ♦
IMIISSI^TGk
" What is it, dear ?"
" Only the drums. Oh, if they would ouly
stop one moment !'
j saw my dear aunt shake her head mouru
fufiv, while a look of meaning passed between
her and my uncle. They thought I was out
of my tuiiid, but they were mistaken. I knew
as a ell as tiny did that the noise which was
wearing upon every nerve was only the reverb
eration of tiie crowd of carriages and ounii
I ii>es oil Broadway. Still 1 could hear the
' roil of drums 1 had heard it day and night
lot' weeks.
It was a drum this time, after all, aud muf
lleii : they were approaching the house. My
aunt started up, with a gesture of dismay, to
trv and close out the sound. Nearer aud near
er came the heavy tramp of men and now the
Mill dirge wailed out hv low toned instruments,
the R aid March that marks a military funer
al. Strange to say, it was wonderfully sooth
ing and restful as it rose aud died away upon
ray cars, straiiud so long to a steady raonot
onor.s roll ! When they had all gone by, I
ivas weeping for the first time in many days.
It was iike a dew to iny dry eyeballs—an uti
rpeakahly blessed physical relief to my aching
heart.
Tlnse funeral honors were in my mind ap
portioned to him. 1 felt no longer the bitter
est most maddening fear of all—that his dear
form was left unburied, lor the ill birds ot
prey to tear and mangle. A ghastly blacken
eil i'ace, upturned to the scorching sun, no
longer glared upou one when I closed my eyes;
.but a low quiet grave, where comrades had
said a prayer as it was hallowed, and where
dust should quietly mingle with dust. The
g!'[i.' s should spring upon it someday ; wild
ihuve:s look up with dewy -eyes to Heaven ;
a in] there peacefully, as iu my arms, he should
slumber until we should be re united beyond
a!! death and change.
Again that sad and touching strain floated
back to my darkened room on its errand ot
mercy —fainter and fainter now ss the foot
s'eps receded—" Adesles Ficklisf cur old Suit
d.y evening hymn ! For-vceks my n.ind had
goue in the same dull, maddening round ; but
cow I saw my old home as vividly as if I were
hi reality the lit tie fair-haired child nestling
'.a my diar father's arms, while my mother
touched the keys, and their voices rose up
ward in a solemn and tender unison—uu em
blem of their nuked godly lives !
A feeling of pity for myself came over mc
to thiuk 1 had come to this,that bright eager,
hopeful, child ! I wondered if they did not
pity mc, removed as they were from from the
sorrows of earth; if they did not loug to pluck
mc from the dark waters that were surging
over iny soul. Who knows but it was their
spirits ministering unto me ; for from that
moment the stupor of despair left me. I only
wonder 1 had not died at first. It happened
thus : I came down so cheerful and buoyant
that morning, singing to my bird as I arrang
ed the flowers that our city garden afforded,
for it was my day for a letter from him, and
all this long year he had never failed me.—
Twice a week his daily journal, iu which every
act and thought of his iife was chronicled for
my eyes, came. There might be delays after
it left bis hand, but uoue through him.
I did not think to unfold the morniug pa
per, not knowing that a movement of his corps
was expected ; but my uncle had known it for
several days, and had been dreading disaster,
es I afterward found from the carefully word
ed telegrams of the war department Rut I
was young aud over confident of our cause,
and had paid no jfiecd to the ominous mut
terings of the coming storm The sun fell on
my daily path —what were the clouds to mc ?
There was a white,fixed look, in my uncle's
face ; that was my first warning. 1 dropped
the Uood red fuschias and fragrant heliotropes
which 1 held and sprang to his side.
" What is it ? what is it ?"
My voice sounded strange and husky to my
self. The scared look passed from ray uncle's
kind eyes, aud oue of love and ptty eutsred
into them.
" lie may be only a prisoner after all ; do
Dot worry before we hear."
Rut 1 could detect the conceit, as a child
does the bitter drug hidden in the conserve.
T ou mean that he is dead ; aud you are
tying to me I"
It did not matter that " Missing" stood
above the column in which his name was en
tolled. They tormented me with watchiDg
and writing for information, and ail manner
of hopeless devices for many a day. They
were sure that when the list of the prisoners
should be received from Richmond he would
be reported among them, but I gave up from
the first ; aud when that came with no news
from him it was almost a relief, for they let me
alone with my trouble.
You take up the papers day after day, and
read those dreadful lists without a thought.—
Those names are no more to you than a col
umu of a directory or a list of advertised let
ters. You have a kind heart, and you sigh,
and say : " Poor fellows !" as you lay them
down. llow little do you understand of the
sickening anxiety, the appalling shock, which
those very columns carry to a thousand house
holds ! How eager eyes dilate with horror
aud unbelief as fearing, aud hoping, and pray
ing, they come upon the name they seek for
staring them in the face with such persistent
reality—staring them into blindness.
So I read it, leaning over my uncle's shoul
der, and following his finger with a dizzy
braiu :
Missing —AßTHUß L. GRANT.
The first on the list, followed by the name
of a company and regiment that had marched
proudest of all through our street thirteen
months before, since they had hit wealth, and
ease, and luxury, to go out for our country's
sake—a pure euthusiasm in which they believ
ed to be a noble cause.
Again and again he had been in the thick
est of the fight and come out unharmed, i
impiously believed it was iny unceasing selfi-li
prayers that protected him ! how impious and
how selfish I had never known til! now ; for 1
had come to believe the angels had a special
charge concerning him. Rut that vail of self
delti.-iou fell from my eyes like a mist ; my
presumption in thanking Gon would exempt
me from the trials common to all ! 1 dure say
you know every phase of mind 1 passed through
with, if you have ever been visited with a sud
den shock of loss ; how, from what I conceiv
ed to be loving trust in my heavenly Father
and a glowing gratitude. I found myself mad
ly rebellions, sullenly faithless, whoiiy unbe
lieving. What were aii his promises worth
since it had come to this ! Only that morn
ing, before I left my room, 1 had read with
such a boastful conli ;ence in the Bible which
had been his earliest gift to me :
" lie shall deliver thee in six troubles; yea,
in seven shall no evil touch thee.
"In famine he shall redeem thee from
death, aud in war from the power of the
sword."
15nt now he had " put forth his hand and
touched all tiiat f had," aud the temptation
to " curse him to his face," swept over ine,
as it had through the soul of the paticut
Chaldean !
During the slow decline which had taken
my father from me, and exhausted my mo
ther's little strength in long continued care
and watchfulness, we had sailed on a long
voyage, in the hope that it might stay the
cruel disease which worked out its end with
such deceptive qnietne.-s. I was wretchedly
feverish and ill for a long, long time, unable
to have mv berth or to take any nourishment;
yet, strange to say, I i ever slept without
such heavenly dreams ! An unaccountable
happiness stole over me as 1 sank to sleep ;
the fever and the thirst were slacked on de
licious fruits or nt sparkling fountains of the
cleared water. The dull monotony of sight
and sound which almost maddened me when
awake, was exchanged for tiic iandscapes and
the music of Paradise !
So it was with me now for a time ; when
awake, despair, and desolation, and eternal
isolation, close around ine ; but when 1 sank
into an unconciousn ss that was not sleep,
such bright, mocking visions ot the past, with
every precious hour that memory held in store
was lived over with a minuteness and vividness
that mocked the changeless reality of widow
hood.
Every half expressed thought or glance of
tenderness —the perfect repose of the full
knowledge ot his love—the bitter bliss of our
first parting, when the call to arms sounded
through the lar.d—the unspoken longing to be
called his—to bear his name, at last, if his life
should be laid down for his country—the long
clinging, passionate farewell, when I first felt
all the intensity of his love —and his sudden,
unlocked for return.
That dav came up before me continually.—
1 heard the sound of clear, ringing footsteps
in the hall when I thought him hundreds ot
miles away, and started to be caught to his
heart, and find that uiy quick recognition ot
that familliar tread was indeed a blessed real
ity ! How tenderly he smoothed back my
hair as I clung to him —afraid he would van
ish as strangely as he had couie —and pressed
my check closer and closer to his breast, till
I could hear the strong throbbing if his heart;
and then he whispered : " on must be my
wife Agues, before I leave you again ; this
separation will be intolerable if 1 cannot pour
out my whole heart to you aud think of you as
all mine !"
Yet he was to return the next day ; for his
sad errand of escort to a deceased comrade,
one of the first to baptize the soil of Virginia
with heroic blood, was already accomplished.
It was all so strange, so hurried, so dreamlike,
when I stood up between my kind uncle and
aunt the next morning, and my uncle laid iny
hand in Arthur's, and, trembling from head
to foot, I made those soleuiu vows that bound
me to him for life and death.
Once—only once—l heard his dear voice
utter the sacred name of " wife," and then it
was all over ; my clasping arms were unlock
ed from his neck with tender and gentle force,
my husband's first and last kisses were show
ered upon my face—an 1 he was gone !
Was this the end of my faithful watching
and waiting—ceaseless vigils in spirit by an
unknown, uuhouored grave ?
Rut now neither bitter realities nor tender
memories mingled iu the sleep to which I sank;
for hours my unstirred pillow was as dream
less as that of the dead, and I awoke so rest
ed and so calm that at first they feared the
new mood ouly as a more insidious symptom
PUBLISHED EVERY TfIURSDAIf AT TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., BY E. 0. GOODRICH.
'of mental malady. 1 Lai a plan and purpose
of life—for a time, at least—which had ccme
to me as suddenly as an inspiration. I had
been denied that which 1 had coveted —to
soothe his pain, to watch by his bed of suffer
ing ; but there were those who had suffered
in the same holy cause to whom 1 could min
ister—his comrades, who, iu turn, were far
from all they loved.
My aunt called it madness wheu I told her
of my inteutiou to leave my sheltered home
with her and devote myself to the wearing,
self sacrificing life of nurse among the hospi
tals. "My health forbade "my strength
had never been taxed ;" "it was a romance I
should soou be cured of ;" " they would uot
undertake the risk to which my life would be
exposed." But I hud expected opposition,
and met it quietly, but firmly. An only child,
self will had been long a governing principle,
and they finally gave way, believing what I
told them, that it was my only escape from
madness, the prospect of action, a miud aud
heart both occupied fully.
1 knew he would have approved my course.
What was my case aud comfort that it could
not he resigned when Arthur's had been so
readily sacrificed ? And suppose the worst
came—or what they thought to—there was a
selfish, eoivardlv pleasure to me, in the thought
that 1 should then be united to him again so
soon.
1 wanted to put on the mourning dress
which suited my condition, but that they would
not allow me. Arthur's relations opposed it
" while there was hope." Alas ! there had
never been hope. Some of them caviled at
my purpose, and called it unwomanly ; but
then they had at my sudden marriage also—
dull souls, who made religion of routine and
social observance.
It was the first approach to happiness I had
known when I put on the plain gray dress
which Arthur had always liked to much, cak
ing me his " little nun," and knelt down in
the silence of mv own room with a vow of con
secration to my GOD and uiy suffering fellow
creatures, for lie accepted it, I knew, blotting
out the human weakness of my rebel.ion. I
knew it by the power that 1 had given me at
that liniment to look upon the past without
bitterness, and the long, weary future, without
a cowardly shrinking from it.
My dear aunt waited for me below, with
tears that she could not restrain ; she saw my
blighted life in my thin, worn face, aud she
had tried so hard to make me happy after that
first great loss, and be a mother to me. 1
stood on the spot where i had beeu made Ar
thur's wife. llow should 1 return home again?
llow pass through those doors that uowclosed
so reluctantly upon me ?
Rut then all pain was over save meeting
my uncle's pitiful looks, from time to time, as
we went on our little journey together.
The surgeons did not care to admit mc at
first—my youth and inexperience were against
me ; but my utieie told them my story with a
faltering voice, and 1 pleaded so humbly for
the least and lowest office, that they allowed
me to remain. My narrow, comfortless quar
ters were assigned me, and my longed-for task
began.
The first day tried my resolution to the ut
most ; the long rows of sufferers, the wan aud
wasted faces, the pitiful imploring looks from
eyes that followed me as 1 passed, the sicken
ing sight of maimed and wounded limbs, the
ghastly stump cushioned into sialit and cool
uess, the ravings of delirium, the wau and ash
en faces of the dying ! —oil, my GOD, that such
setnes should be' —repeated with unvarying
sameness through those long, dull wards—
through miles of wards like these ail over our
land ! Aud then 1 sew his sufferings iu theirs.
Ah ! I could not close my eyes, could not com
pose my limbs to sleep ; could ouly start, and
turn, and pray for them aud those they loved,
aud for uiy country, ail those long wakeful
hours.
After that I entered into my work with the
exceeding comfort I hail expected, and an ea
ger interest in individual suffering that sur- >
prised me. When I first came upon the empty
bed of one who had been my peculiar care,
and who had passed beyond the reach of all
ministry, 1 wept as if 1 had lost a brother. I
forgot weary limbs and aching head when
I moistened lips, blackened with fever, cooling j
the stiffened bandages or turned the heated
pillow. The close heavy air ceased to sickeu
ine, my nerves shrank no longer at the cries
uf pain or sight of gaping wound, if so 1 could
prepare a cordial or bathe the sinking pulse
back to life again.
Two weeks had passed and I had won the
confidence of the surgeon who had opposed
my admission most decidedly, lie was abrupt
aud cold in Iris manner, but he had a warm
and feeling heart ; these men had found it out
beneath his brusque exterior, for no woman's
touch was more gentle, though so firm aud
rapid in all that required to be done.
I had never obtruded myself upon him but
I noticed, with the pleasure like award of
commendation, that he began to intrust his
orders to me more aud more ; that he singled
me out for cases that required the most con
stant watchfulness. This day he said to mo,
after giving his directions : " \ ou have not
broken down yet, poor thing ! poor young
thing !"
It was as if my father had pitied and ca
ressed me ; but it was so uulooked for that
1 almost gave way to tears before him.
The same afternoon 1 found myself passing
a ward that had been prepared some days for
new arrivals, just as they were bringing iu
those sad and touching burdens. Meu help
iess as infauts clung to the arm that suppo t.-d
them, or tottered to the bed prepared tor them
like little children who are just learning to
walk ; stretchers as ghastly as biers passed
and repassed with those to whom all places
are alike so that motion would cease and they
might be allowed to die in peace ; others
tnoaued aud shrieked at the torture of the ten
derest touch ; and all were without exception
squalid aud wretched to the last degree. I
wondered to see them so, even while 1 passed
from one to another with restoratives, but
still 1 had uot heard that they were paroled
"REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER."
prisoners, fresh from the filth aud privation of
the rebel capital. No ; there was not even a
tremor of possible hope that I might hear his
name or story among the suffering crowd, as
oue by oue passed before me.
I stooped at length over a wan and wasted
figure laid upon the bed in the most remote
corner. The face was hollow and emaciated,
the eye-balls sunken, the dry lips black and
parched by fever, the dark hair aud heavy
beard were closely shaven, the thin hands
clasped together, as if death had already re
leased this poor sufferer. I thought it must
be so at first ; but as I bent down more close
ly the eyelids were feebly lifted, the lips fee
bly quivered painfully :
" Yes—it is heaveu 1"
1 caught the feeble, wandering whisper ;
but oh, my heavenly father ! was my brain
wandering too ? had pity clouded my brain?
They must have thought that 1 had gone
mad ! Perhaps the kind surgeon thought so
when he turned, the moment after, to find me
kneeling by the bed with that poor, wasted,
shriveled face cradled in my arms, and my
passionate cries for help startling the painful
quiet around us, for life seemed to have flick
ered and gone out/with the look of recognition
which i had caught.
I had said —oh, how often !—that I would
be content if he could die in iny arms ; and
there he lay, slipping away from me into eter
nity.
1 knew it was best when they unwound my
arms as he had done that blessed morning, and
the surgeon lifted mc as if I had been a child
and carried me from the room ; but I crouch
ed down by the door, blessing the fallen dark
ness that sheltered me, and when he had pass
ed out 1 crept back to the bedside. Surely,
we might be trusted ; we did not exchange
one word ! sight aud touch were sufficient.—
The grateful, almost adorning looks from those
large, brilliant eyes, as my hand passed -oftly
over his forehead wooing for him the sleep
that would save him, and praying that it might
avail. And at last the eyelids fell softly, the
hand that I clasped sank away, the painfully
tense expression faded from his face; and I
began to find out that it was no cheating
dream but a blessed, hopeful reality, that Ar
thur had boon given back to me from the dead!
How did 1 return to the home 1 had left
with such a breaking heart ? As a bride, in
deed, with ilie blessed consciousness that but
for my presence and watchful care, Arthur
would at that moment have been lying among
the crowd of unknown dead of a soldiers' bury
ing ground. There had been no trace of his
name or home, for the fever had been on him
when he had went out to the battle-field, and
he was carried away from it to a prison shel
ter, wounded and raving in delirium.
Think of the change in my heart and life
when I entered the room in which I had suffer
ed those long, slo'.r weeks of torture ; wheu 1
knelt by the white robed bed, too speechlessly
thankful for words or tears, with Arthur's
arms clasping mc, and his dear voice thanking
GOD for both of us, and for the strange do
liverance which He had wrought.
TV HAT'S IN A NAME—There is a confounded
ucal in a name. You are at a public dinner
table. Smith, the grocer, says, " Rice is down
again."
" Is llice down again ?" asked the minister.
" I was in hopes he had permanently reform
ed.'
" I was speaking of rice the vegetable," re
plied the grocer.
" Oh, ah, indeed !" exclaimed the minister,
" and 1 was speaking of Rice the animal. lie!
He !
" Wool has advanced," says a dealer iu the
article.
" Has he?" asked a military man ;" which
way is he marching uow ?"
" I was speaking of the woo! of the sheep,'
was the reply.
* I beg vour pardon. I supposed you were
speaking ot Wool, the man."
" What is butter worth ?" asked some one
of the grocer.
" Butterworth is a Hard Shell Democrat,"
at once responds a politition, whose th ughts
are wholly engrossed with party matters.
A CHILD'S FAITH.—In the Highlands of
Scotland, there is a mountain gorge twenty
feet in width, and two hundred feet in depth.
Its perpendicular walls are bare of vegetation,
save in the crevices, in which grow numerous
wild flowers of rare beauty. Desirous of ob
taining specimens of these mountain beauties,
some scientific tourists ouce offered a Highland
boy a handsome gift if he would consent to be
lowered down the cliff by a rope, and would
gather a little basket full of thetn. The boy
looked wistfully at the money, for his parents
were poor, but when he gazed at the yawuing
chasm, he shuddered, shrunk back aud declined.
But filial love was strong within him, and af
ter another glance at the gift, and at the terri
ble fissure, his heart grew strong, his eye flash
ed, and he said :
" 1 will go if my FATHER will hold the rope.''
And then with unshrinking nerves, and
heart firmly strong, he suffered his father to
put the rope about him, lower him into the
wild abyss, and to suspend Lira there while
he filled his basket with the coveted flowers.
It was a daring deed, but his faith in the
strength of his father's arm and the love of
his father's heart gave him courage aud pow
er to perform it.
The writer of the Declaration of Inde
pendence was passiouately fond of fiddling,
and is said to have excelled in playing that
instrument. In 1770 his family mausion was
burnt. Mr. Jefferson used to tell, in after
years, with great glee, an anecdote connected
with the fire. He was absent from home when
it occurred, aud a slave arrived out of breath
to inform him of the disaster. After learning
the general destruction, he inquired—" But
were none of my books saved ?" " No, mas
sa," was the reply, " but we saved de fiddle."
ligL. Econemy is wealth
The Testimony of an Eye-Witness.
What Gen. Butler's Officers Think
On Thursday of iast week Mitjor General
Butler was in New York, aud a committee of
' the Chamber of Commerce waited npon him
| at the the Fifth Avenue Hotel, offering him
; on behalf of the citizens a public diuuer.—
\ This the Geueral declined for the present, his
private affairs rcquiriug his presence at home.
The New York papers report :
The General was then introduced to a tiutn
ber of gentlemen present, and during the col
loquy that ensued he spoke of a few things re
specting his course in New Orleans, which had
been carped at aud severely criticised by those
1 who had been accustomed to act with him po
J litically in time past —not for the purposcof
injuring him but the cause of the country. —
With reference to the Slavery question, his
: views had undergone a radical change during
| his residence at New Orleans, and while en-
I tertaiuing no prejudice against his old politi
| cal associates, who found fault with him on
i that score, he would only say to them that if
j they had gone there with the same sentiments
| that he felt, they would have coaie away with
' the same sentiments that he felt. [Laughter.]
j lie thought he might say the principal mem
bers of bis staff, and the prominent ollicers of
I his regiments, without any exception, went
| out to New Orleans Hunker Democrats of the
hunkerest sort, for it was natural that he
I should draw around Liar these whose views
: were similar to his own, and every iudivd
: ual of the number had come precisely to the
same belief on the question ot Slavery as he
liad put forth iu his farewell address to the
' people ot New Orleaus. This change came
about from seeing what ali of them saw, day
;by day. Iu this war the entire property of
the i-outh was against us, because almost the
! entire property of the South was bound up
: in that institution. This was a vveli-ksowu
fact, probably, but he did uot become fully
awate of it until he had spent some time at
New Orleans. The South had $100,000,000
of tuxahles property in slaves, and $102,000,
000 in all other kind of property. And this
was the cause why the merchants of New-Or
leans had not remained loyal. They found
themselves ruined—uli their property being
loaned upou planters' notes and mortgages
upon plantations and slaves, all of which prop
erly is uow reasonably worthless. Again, he
hud learned what he did uot know before,
that this was not a rebellion against us, but
simply a rebellion to perpetuate power iu the
hands of a few slaveholders. At first lie had
not believed that Slavery was the cause of the
Rebellion but attributed it to Davis, Siideli
and others, who had brought it about to make
political triumphs by which to regalu their
former asccndaucj. The rebellion was again
the huml/!e and poorer classes, aud there were
in the South large numbers of secret socie
ties dealing in cabalistic signs, organized for
the purpose of perpetuating the power of the
rich over the poor. It was feared that these
common people would come into power, and
that three or four hundred thou.-and'men could
not hold against eight millions. The first
movctm nt of these men was to make land the
basis of political power ; and that was uot
enough, for land could not be owned by
many persons. Then they annexed laud to
slaves and divided the property into movable
and immovable. He was not generally accus
ed of being a humanitarian—at least not by
his Southern friends. [Laughter.] When
lie saw the ultc-r demoralization of the people,
resulting from Slavery, it struck him that it
was an institution which should be thrust out
of the Union. lle|had on'rtadingMrs. Stowe's
book—" UDcle Tom's Cobiu"—believing it
to be an over-drawn, highly-wrought picture
of Southern life, but he had seen with his own
eyes, and heard with own ears, many things
which go beyoui her hook as much as her
book does beyond au ordinary schoolgirl's r.ov
el. He related au iustanee of the shocking
demoralization of society at Nc-w-Orleans.
There came into his office a woman, 27 years
of age, perfectly white, who asked inm iu
proper language if ho would put her in one of
her father's houses. Her history was this :
Her lather had educated her in the City of
New York, uutil she was between 17 and IS
years of ago, and taking her to one of the
metropolitan hotels, where he kept her as his
mistress. Not relishing the connection, and
desiring to get away from him, she went to
New Orleans —he- followed her, but she re
fused to live with him, at which he whipped
her in the public street, aud made her marry
a slave. She afterward resumed the unnatur
al relation, going to Cincinnati, but was bro't
back by her husband, or father, with a child
belonging to somebody. Her father fled from
the city at the time of its occupation by the
United States forces, leaving her iu a state of
destitution. She wanted to live in one of
her father's houses, but her story was not
credible, aud he determined to investigate it.
To his surprise, it was found to be well known,
and testimony of its truth was obtained from
A, B, aud C, without difficulty.
Notwithstanding this fact, widely known as
it was, this man could be elected in Louisiana,
iu the city of New Orleans, a Judge of one of
the Courts. On one occasion oue of his aids
brought before him a young woman almost
white who had been brutally whipped and
turned out of the house of her father. For
this outrage the man had been made to pay a
fine of SI,OOO and give the woman a deed of
emaucipatiou. [Applause.] These were the
kiud of charges which had bten brought against
him. [Cheers and cries of " Good."] Yes,
no right-minded man could be sent to New
Orleans without returning an unconditional
Auti-Slaverv man, even though the roofs of
the houses were not taken off aud the full ex
tent of the corruption exposed. All the low
er class of the people of New Orleaus were
loyal. During the first fourteen days alter
the Uuiou forces entered the city 14,0U0 took
the oath of allegiance ; and wheu he went oa
board the steamer, ou his return to the North,
VOL. XXIII. —X 0.36.
at least one thousand laboring men came dowu
upon the levee, and uttered no words except
those of good will to him as the representative
of the Government. Geueral Butler continu
ed by saying that the war eculd ouly be suc
cessfully prosecuted by the destruction of Sla
very, which was made the corucr stoue of lha
Confederacy. This was the second time in tho •
history of the world that a rebelliou of proper
ty holders against the lower classes aud against
tho Government was ever carried on. The
Hungarian rebelliou was oue of that kind, and
that failed, as must every rebellion of men of
property against Government, aud agaiust the
rights of the many. Oue of the greatest ar
guments which he could find against Slavery
was the demoralizing inllueuce it exerted up
on the lower white classes, who were brought
| iulo seccssiou by the hundred because they ig
uorantly supposed that great wrong was to be
done them by the Lincoln Government, as they
termed it, if the .North succeeded. Therefore,
if you meet au old Hunker Democrat, and
send him for sixty days to New Otleaus, and
he comes back a Hunker still, ho is merely in
corrigible. [Laughter.]
There was oue thing about the President's
edict of emancipation to which he would call
at ntiou. Iu Louisiana ho had excepted from
Ireedom about 87,000. These comprise all
the negroes he-la in the Lafourche Diotrict
who have been emancipated already for somo
time, under the iaw which frees slaves taken
in rebellious territory by our armies. Others
of these negroes had been freed by the procla
mation of September, which declared all slaves
f.ce whose owners shall be in arms on the Ist
of January. The slaves of Frenchmen were
free because the cud':, cicil expressly prohibits
a Frenchman holding slaves, aud by the 7th
and Bth Victoria, every Englishman holding
slaves submitted himself to a penalty of §SOO
for each. Now, take the negroes of Seces
sionists, Frenchmen, and Englishmen, out of
tho 87,000, and the number is reduced to au
I infinitesimal portion of those excepted. This
fact had come to his knowledge from having
| required every inhabitant ia the city to regis
ter his nationality. Alter all the names had
; been fairly registered, he explained these laws
to the English and French Consuls, aud had
, thus replied to demands which had been mada
by Engii.-h and French residents of Louisiana
j upon the Government for slaves alleged to
have been seized. [Applause ] The General
then adverted to the light at Vicksburg, ex
plaining how utterly impossible it was for
Banks and Farragut to pass the strongly for
tified Rebel position, three hundred miles be
low, at Port Hudson, iu time, at the present
low stage of water iu the river, to co-operato
with Gen. Sherman. In the course of the
conversation, the General alluded to other
matters of public interest. After the depar
ture of the Committee the General received
many of the guests of the hotel, continuing
his levee until near 10 o'clock.
When onr readers remember that General
Butler before the breaking out of this Rebel
lion was an intense pro slavery Democrat, and
that he supported Breckinridge for the Presi
dency, they cannot doubt the truth of hia
statement.
EDUCATE THE HEAD, IIEAET AXD HAXD. —
Every boy should have his head, his heart and
his baud educated. Let this truth never bo
forgotten. By the proper education of tho
head, he will be taugtit v bat is good and what
is evil, what is wise aud what is foolish, what
is right and what is wrong ; by the proper
education of the heart we will be brought to
love what is good, wise aud right, and to hato
what is foolish and wroog. And by proper
education of the he will be enabled to
supply his wants, to add to his comforts, and
to assist those around him. The highest ob
jects of a good education are to reverence and
obey GOD, and to love and to serve mankind.
Everything that helps us in attaining thoso
objects is of great value and everything that
hinders us is comparatively worthless. When
wisdom reigns iu the head, and love iu the
•heart, the man is ever ready to do good, and
peace reigns arouud, and sin aud sorrow are
almost unknown.
EST* A gay fellow who had taken lodgings
at a public house, and got considerably in
debt, absented himself, and took new quar
ters. This so enraged tho landlord that he
commissioned his wife to go and dun him,which
the debtor having heard of, declared publicly
that if she came he would kiss her. " Will
lie.?" said the lady, " Will he ?" " Give me
iny bonnet, Molly, I will see whether any fel
low has such impudence !" "My dear," said
the cooling husband, " pray do no. be too
rasb. You do not know what a man may do
when lie's iu a passiou."
ESy " Why, Pete, you've got back from
Dobb's early ; isn't Ruth tn hum V inquired
| a Yankee girl of her awkward brother, who
i had started a courting about an hour before,
i " Yaas, she was there ; but I aud the old
man didn't agree very well, so he gin me a
j hint, and I left." " A biut, what sort of a
i hint ?' " Wall, he opened the door, and
pointed down towards our house, and kinded
I raised his right foot as though he was going
to kick, and 1 felt so ashamed of such couduct
before Iluih, that I started oil' without say
iug auother single word."
Brig. General Asbotli has been assign
ed to the command oi Columbus, Ivy. It is
reported that Brigadier General Duvies has
been ordered under arrest for his misconduct
in ordering the guus at New-Madrid aud Ig
lan 1 No. 10 to be spiked, when there W-LJ j n
rea.jty no danger of an attack from [he rebels.
If a stupid fellow is going pp f or cota ,
petiiive examination, why sboq'm ho study tha
letter I ? LeC'tuse it can muko even au ass
P-ass.
B@°* If yon want your neighbors to know
who you are, ' give a party and don't iuvitq
the folks " who iive tiext door,"