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SS" Advertising in all cases exclusive of sub scription to the paper. .JOB PRINTING of every kind in Plain and Fan cy colors. done with neatness and dispatch. Hand bills. Blanks, Cards, Pamphlets, &c., of every va riety and style, printed at the shortest notice. The REPORTER OFFICE has just been re-fitted with Power Presses, and every thing in the Printing line can l,c executed in the most artistic manner and nt the j, .west rates. TERMS INVARIABLY*'ASH. WINTER WILL NOT BAST FOREVER. Winter will not lust forever : Spring will soon come forth again. And. with flowers of every color, Deck the hillside and the plain. Lambs will soon in fields be sporting, Birds re-echo from each tree ' • Winter's gone ! its days are ended! We are happy—we are free!" Hedge and tree will soon be budding. Soon with leaves be covered o'er : Winter cannot last forever ; Brighter days are yet in store. Sorrow will not last forever, Brighter times will come again, Joy our every grief succeeding. As the sunshine after lain. As the snow and ice of winter, Melt at the approach of Spring, So will all our cares and trials, Joy, and peace, and. comfort bring. When the heart is sad and drooping, Think, though you be vexed sore. Sorrows cannot last forever ; Brighter days are yet in store. OX GATHERING WILD ROSES. The flowers that in our pathway spring. These are rejected— The blessings every hour may bring These are neglected : But blossoms blooming up on high, Beyond our reach, against the sky, For these we pine, for these we sigh. i To seize some tempting distant spray, Waving above ns, far away, Wi crush what in our footpath lay. Those common things, we heed them not, To be despised is sure their lot. Trifles but made to be forgot! But oh'. those lovely far-off thinqs, To those, to those, my spirit clings!— Oh. had I but an angel's wings. To soar away beyond the earth, Beyond its woe, beyond its mirth, And triumph in a heavenly birth! 'Tis thus we yearn and strive in vain, < 'rushing our pleasuees into pain, Till they can never bloom again. . THE WINDOW ON THE PORCH. How came the window open on that stormy morning? It was the old,old story, tin- >tory of young hearts and old heads.— Two young people falling in love with each other ; a person in tiie shape of a father disapproving ; the lover poor, the lather rich : the girl divided between duty and af fection for her parent and passionate tend i in ss for her lover ; and Love triumphing in tiie long-run as he generally does. This was why the parlor window stood wide open tiiat stormy morning; for at' twelve the nignt before she had come down to him, wrapped in white furs and a crim son hood, and had sobbed, "Oh, Charles, I am very, very wicked, and unless Fa for gives me God never will !" which theologi- i cal statement Charles combated bravely, and proved beyond a doubt (to his own heart at least) that there was no harm in marrying whom one loved. Trembling and sobbing softly, though j there was no danger of being heard amidst the gusts of wind and the creaking of the hare dm branches, she let him lead her on tenderly over the soft snow until a dark oh- \ j'rt under the trees slowly developed itself i" their eyes as a sleigh and two horses, and aii old driver, who had been beating his arms against his breast to keep himself warm, helped the lady in, with a gruff sort | 1 sympathy. And away they glided, the j black horses before them, and the white snow about thcin, falling softly, softly over j them, and Janet's head lying upon Charlie's breast, and her little fur-clad form nestled close to his. 1 hey were foolish little peo ple. but not wicked, whom those black horses whirled over the white snow to Hy men's altar that hitter winter's night so long ago. When they found that balcony window open in the gray morning's dawn,and found also a penitential letter blotted with tears, and an empty bed, the pillows of which had not been rumpled, pursuit was useless; j for Janet Grey had promised to love, honor, j and obey Charles Oliver, and he had vowed ; io love and cherish her until death did them j part Forgive them—never !" So passionate j Id Robin Grey vuwed, with many an ex-j pletive not to be written here. Forgive j •'<T ! The serpent warmed in his bosom to sting him at last. From his heart and his I home she had gone forth of her own free j *'ill, and an exile from both she must re- j main forever. Tour Janet,she had loved her father dear -I'oor old man, he had no one on earth ! "tt that pretty petted daughter, who had ■if out as much idea of the life before her as A baby might have had -he had married a sailor, second mate of j 'he Bonnie Lassie, who made voyages to j Last Indies and brought home cargoes 1 S piees and sweet-scented woods and fruit and rare confections, hut who did not al ays bring home those who went with her; ; 1 1 m those warm latitudes fevers arc rife, j j" many a sailor in his hammock shroud ■as floated from his moorings to the Spice ' ands, while at home many a young wife m hatched fur the good ship which should " r husband to her never more, iiioe months of innocent delirium, the or i seeming made for them, and only eis worthy to breathe its air. Then came E. O. OOODBICH, Publisher. VOLUME XXV. the awakening. Burly Captain Thomas broke the dream with his "Ahoy, messmate, where away ?" They were rambling together in the sha i dy paths of Washington Parade Ground, and he came upon them. • 0 How are you, Captain ? "Glad 4o see you. This is my wife." And how proud he . was to show the pretty child, with her long . curls and blue eyes and dainty waist and waxen white hands with her sixteen happy summers scarcely told upon her brow, j, The Captain bowed. " Heared you was spliced," he said. " You couldn't have moored alongside of a prettier craft, my j lad. Though she don't look as though she'd weather through a storm. Never expect to follow your example myself though. The j Bonnie Lassie is my wife. You know she sails to day week." " Ay, ay," said Charlie. " Why should I forget ?" " Sumat better to think on, p'raps," said the Captain. " Fair weather, shipmate.— Respects, mum." And away he went,feet wide apart,hands in both pockets, and gait that of one who, used to a rolling vessel, seems when on laud always to expect the world to give a suddeD lurch, and who tries to be on his guard against it. Janet looked up into Charlie's face with fearful eyes. " What did he mean, Charlie ?" " He is Captain Thomas, of the Bonnie Lassie, love." j. "Well?" " That's all, dear." "And the Bonnie Lassie is your ship ?" " Yes." | " And she sails to-iflorrow week ?" " To-day week." "Charlie." " Love." " Of course the horrible thought never : entered your mind of going with her." " I must" "Oh no: you want to frighten me. 1 couldn't live, you know. Oh, Charlie, I feel like fainting. I'm all alone. I have nobody. Pa will never speak to me again. Charlie, laugh —say 'lt's all fun, Janet.' " " I wish I could. My dear, you knew your husband was a sailor when you mar ried him." " Yes; but I never thought he would be iso cruel as to leave me. Charlie, I really think 1 shall die." Her pretty baby face was so white and wan, and her hands so cold, that he was frightened. They sat down upon a bench together, and then she pleaded to go with him—only to go with him any where and any how. " A long dangerous voyage. He could not think of it." And her answer was : " A dangerous voyage ! And I to stay at home and listen and hear the wind blow, and think of you. Charlie stay at home if | you care for me." Poor Charlie ! He held her to his breast in the shadow of the old Park, and tried to teach her her first lesson—how money must be earned, and how men must earn it; how a sailor bred could be nothing but a sailor ; how as a man he must discharge his duty, and never have to think that he had drag ged her from the sheltered home of luxury to suffer poverty and all its ills ; how, in fact, " Men must work and women must weep, And the sooner 'tis over the sooner to sleep." It was very hard to learn, and the poor girl-wife could not comprehend it. As for going with him,old Captain Thomas, an old fashioned sailor, who boasted that he never "crept in at the cabin windows," and never studied navigation out of a book, but fought his way up from cabin-boy—that old salt water would never have consented to have a women on board, in view of all manner of traditionary ill-luck—storms, shipwrecks, etc., etc. There comes some such episode to every young wife in a modified form. Janet could see no necessity for this voy age. Only cruel choice. That fortnight all tears and lamentation. That parting for six months—six eternities t<i her. Charlie and Janet had grief enough in their two loving hearts to fill this world and leave a surplus for some other. At last the day came,and he left her faint ing and .vent crying like a child. Then Janet was all alone, and thought that she should die. When her tears re fused to flow so freely as at first,which was not for many weeks, she found some com fort in an old piano, a sweet-toned thing, and very, very shabby, that stood in the parlor of her boarding-house, but her songs were always sad ; a wounded bird dying in her nest and calling for her mate could not have uttered notes more pitiful to lis ten to. Only now and then when a letter came she brightened up for a awhile. But at last six months were gone and there came no letter. The ship must be at hand, that of course was it. He, Charlie, would be here very, very soon ; but no Charlie came: those who waited for the Bonnie Lassie saw her not. No letters, 110 Charlie; another month—another—another—still no news One morning she stood by the win dow watching,and the landlady came to her. She was a good woman, and hesitated to speak ; but her boarding-house only kept her out of poverty, and this blue-eyed girl was a boarder after all. So she said : "Mrs. Oliver, I don't like to tell you—but—but " "Oh you've heard ill news of Charlie!" and Janet, turning with ashen cheek, clung to her arm. " No, my dear. Oh no, thank goodness, it's quite different ! Your husband paid your board for six months in advance, you know." "Yes." "Well—ahem. It's—it's nearly ten months since he went, and I'm quite poor, and I'm often cheated, very often, and, the fact is, can you pay me ?" "I ? Oh no. Charles—Mr. Oliver will settle with you the moment he returns." " Y-e s—but it's no use mincing matters, my dear. I'd be glad to wait. But are you sure lie will come back ? The sea is treach erous,and they say sailors have also,' a wife in every port.' There, now, don't take on so. Haven't you relations, or somebody who will help you ?" " My father, I'll go to my father," said poor Janet. " He will forgive me noiv ;"and she left the house as a weary child might have done, longing for the good old breast that used to be her shelter. Far out of town the homestead stood, and its doors were locked,and its windows barred against her. A strange servant canjc at her sum mons : she had anticipated that, and writ TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., JANUARY 26, 1865. ten a few lines begging that he would see her. They were returned to her. On the envelope was written, " I have no longer a daughter : she is dead to me." Janet Oliver went back to the city board ing-house, and thei e that night a babe was born to her. A wailing thing that strug gled for life and won it at last ; and Janet holding it against her breast felt that a fragment of her Charlie's life lay there, and clung to it as a drowning man will cling to the frailest floating thing. But for those little hands—those strange, ignorant eyes, that precious nothing holding the embryo soul, Charles Oliver's wife would have let go of life and floated away upon the sea of death that night. Her baby kept her alive; and now her watch,her rings, her little jew eled keepsakes began to go —by-and by her costlier clothes,the white furs she had wrap ped herself in when she eloped that night with him. One by one every thing went, save some cotton gowns, her hood, and a large shawl. At last came the climax. She stood with her babe before the land lady, and the woman said, though not un kindly. " Mrs. Oliver, I'm sorry for you ; but you have a father,and he mlist keep you-/ can't." And Janet took her child and went out in to the midwinter afternoon. She had no hope of her father's pity ; but she said, "We can die, my child and I, within sight of the old house ; and perhaps he may for give me when he sees me dead." Then an other hope entered her soul; she would wrap the child up carefully ; the little one might live, and he would have mercy on that for its innocence. Poor girl, she had no money for a stage fare ; she plodded on through the cold streets and out upon the weary road for hours ; and it grew dark and darker; eight was rung from the city clocks, nine, ten, and only then, by the clear frosty moonlight, she saw the roof of her father's homestead, with the elms about it leafless as they had been when she fled from it with Charles. She had matured her plans, and dragged her weary steps to the porch. Upon it those deep windows opened to the ground. There she would lie down, and in the morn ing they would find her there dead. Ah, poor child ! I hardly dare tell what she had done, it was so wicked ; but she was very miserable. At the bottom of her pock et lay a vial labeled "laudanum." So at last she stood before those windows, and one of them was open—wide open at half past ten on a night in midwinter ! God had opened it for her. So she said. And even then she knew not the strange truth of her words. " Oh, my home J" she wailed softly. " Oh, my father ! I will go in. I will lie in my little bed I will die there, and my babe will live, and all good angels help her to be a better child to father than I have been." So she crept in on tip-toe, unfastening her shoes, and leaving them without, that she might make no noise whatever. She gained her little room. By the moon light she saw that it wa just as she had left it, and must have been carefully kept from changes. The sleeping babe was laid upon the soft pillow, and then she thought of her garments lying in the bureau'draw ers. Were they there yet? It would be more seemly to die in clean, fresh, white robes than in those travel-stained clothes which she wore. So she peeped in, and found the white raiment, and put it on, and then she knelt to pray—to pray with a vial of poison in one hand, with mad suicide in her heart. As she knelt she faced the door, and her eye glancing thither, she saw a light glanc ing up and down the wall, and heard a foot step. Could it be her father ? She crept to the door and lookod. Along the stairs came the man-servant bearing a light, com ing stealthily with a strange look on his face—the strange man-servant who had turned her from the door by her father's or ders months before, and whose wicked face had haunted her ever since. Where was he going—what was he going to do ? She watched him with a heart suddenly stilled in its beating, and saw him enter her father's chamber door. Then she made haste to follow him as fast as her trembling limbs could carry her. Not too soon. She saw as she crept in an open safe, a rifled chest, papers and gold upon the floor, and the servant's form bend ing over her father struggling. She uttered a shriek and sprang forward. In prison afterwards the villain said he fan cied her a spirit, and the sight benumbed his arm. He started, half arose, and with this opportunity the strong and vigorous old man recovered his surprise,and turning on him had him down in an instant. He knew his child ; he knew she had saved him ; but this was no time to think of that. He only said, " Raise the window, Janet, and call for John, the coachman."— And Janet obeyed. In a few moments that wiry rascal 011 the floor had 110 chance of es cape ; he was bound hand and foot,and lay there whining. And Janet was in her father's arms. She had led him to the bed where her baby lay, and had told him all. He had known noth ing of her woe, even of the baby's birth.— To his mind she had been joyful in her young love, ungrateful to him. Cod had left the door open indeed, though the in strument had been a murderous servant's hand, who, feared the watchful ear of honest John, had thought to steal out noiselessly through it. Janet had entered her old home to save her father's life and to creep into his heart once more. The Bonnie Lassie, and good old Captain Thomas, and a host of honest sailors were never seen again, for the sea opened its great arms and enfolded them to it breast forever. But a little island in the ocean had room enough for one brave foot, and, with so much to live for, Charles Oliver battled with the waves, and with thirst, and hun ger, And death-like solitude, and watched, and prayed, and waited, feeding on roots, and berries, and strange fruits until at last sails greeted his eyes, and a vessel hove in sight, and the voice of living men greeted him once more. He came home to Janet, and lorg ago forgiven by her father in his fancied death lie was not refused forgiveness living. And so the old love-dreams were realized and the shadows banished, and as much of joy as can come to earthly beings came to those who lived together in the old home stead among the elms. And to her chil dren, in the twilight, ay, and to her grand children, perhaps, by this time, Janet Oliver has often told tae story of the open window j on the porch. REGARDLESS OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER. ORIGIN OF THE CHIVALRY. Eilrßrta from an Addrrmi Dflivcml by Hon. Charlfi Sumner, in Siexv York, November 5, 1864. TWO ELEMENTAL FORCES, SLAVERY AND LIBERTY FACE TO FACE. A glance only at the immediate origin of this war is enough for the present occasion. But, in crder to dispel all darkness and to determine our duty, let me take you for a few moments back to the distant origin, of the elemental forces which are now in dead ly conflict. Looking at the question abstractedly, these two elemental forces are nothing hut slavery and liberty. It is aim ist superfluous to add that these are natural enemies, and cannot exist together. Where slavery is there liberty cannot be, and where liberty is there slavery cannot be. To uphold slave ry there must be an uncompromising denial of liberty ; to uphold liberty there must he au uncompromising denial of slavery. Each in self defence must stifle the other. There fore between the two there is a constant hostility and undying hate. This eternal warfare is not peculiar to our country. It belongs to the nature of universal man. If it fails to show itself anywhere, it is be cause slavery has won its most detestable triumph, and blotted out the heaven-born sentiment of freedom. Circumstances a moug us, going back to our earliest histo ry, have given unprecedented activity to these two incompatible principles, and have at last brought them into bloody battle face to face. But it is only a part of the uni versal conflict which must endure so long as a single slave shall wear a chain. Slave ry itself is a state of war, ready to burst forth in blood whenever the slave reclaims that liberty which is his right, or whenever mankind refuses to sanction its" inhuman pretensions. THE SLAVE-SHIP, AND THE MAYFLOWER IN 1620. Go back to the earliest days of colonial history, and you will find the conflict al ready preparing. It was in 1620 that nine teen slaves were landed in Jamestown, in Virginia —the first that ever pressed the soil of our country. In that same year the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth. Those two cargoes contained the hostile germs which have ripened to our times. They fitly sym bolize our gigantic strife. On the one side is the slave-ship, and on the other is the Mayflower. Early events derive impor tance as we learn to recognize' their un doubted consequences, and these two ships may be regarded hereafter with additional interest, when it is seen that in them were the beginnings of the present war. Perhaps in all the romantic legends of the sea there is nothing more striking than the contrast presented by those two ves sels. Each had ventured forth upon an un tried and perilous ocean to find an unknown and distant coast, In this they were alike; but in all else how unlike! One was freighted with human beings forcibly torn from their own country, and hurried away in chains to be sold as slaves. The other was filled with good men, who had volun tarily turned their backs upon, their own country to seek other homes, where at least they might be free. One was heavy with curses and sorrow. The other was lifted with anthem and with praj-er And thus, at the same time, beneath tlje same sun, over the same waves, theyfouud their way. It requires no effort of imagination to see on board one of those ships Slavery, and on board of the other Liberty, traversing the ocean to continue here on this broad continent their immitigable war. There is no record of what passed in the cabin of the slave-ship before the landing' of the slaves. The wail of slavery, the clank of chains, and the voice of the mas ter counting the price of his cargo, there might have been. But the cabin of the Mayflower another scene, of which there is an authentic record, as the whole company, by solemn compact, deliberately constituted themselves a body politic, and set the grand example of a Christian commonwealth, thus indicating the character which had been claimed for them, as " knit together in a strict and sacred bond, by virtue of which they held themselves bound to take care of the good of each other and of the whole." And so these two voyages closed. INFLUENCE OF THE TWO SHIPS. Look at the early social life of the two warring sections, and you will see the influ ence of the two ships. Virginia continued to be supplied with slaves, so that slavery became a part of herself. On the other hand, New England always set her face against slavery. To her great honor, in an age when slavery was less condemned than now, the legislature of Massachusetts cen sured a ship-master who had " fraudulently and injuriously brought a negro from Guin ea," and, by solemn vote, resolved that the negro should be' sent back without delay;" and not long after enacted the law of Ex odus, " If any man stealeth a man, he shall surely be put to death." Thus at that early day stood Virginia and New England; for such at that time was the designation of the two provinces which divided British America by a line of demarkatiou very nearly coincident with the recent slave line I of our Republic. OPPOSITE CHARACTER OF THE SETTLERS OF VIRGIN IA AND NEW ENGLAND, But the contrast between the two colonies, as illustrated by those two voyages, ap pears equally in the opposite character of their respective settlers. Like seeks like, and the Pilgrims of the Mayflower were followed by others of similar virtues— whose first labors on landing were to build churches and schools. Many of them had the best education in England ; some were men of substance, and there was no pover ty among them that could cause a blush, while all were most exact and exemplary in conduct. They were a branch of that grand Puritan stock, to which, according to the reluctant confession of Hume, " the English were indebted for the whole free dom of their Constitution." We are told by Burke that there is a sacred veil to be drawn over the beginnings of all govern ments. and that where this is not happily supplied by time, it must be found in a dis creet silence. But no veil is needed for the Puritan settlers of New England. It is very different with the early settlers of Vir ginia, recruited from the castaways and shirks of Old England, and mostly needy men, of desperate fortuues and dissolute lives, who cared nothing for churches or schools. Such people naturally became slave-masters. I should not lift the veil which charity would kindly draw over those i early settlers, if a just knowledge of their character had not become important to il lustrate the origin of our troubles. ABSIRD PRETENCE THAT VIRGINIA WAS SETTLED BY CAVAI.IEUS. It is a common boast of our slave-mas ters that they constitute a modern " chiv alry," derived from the " cavaliers " of En gland, and reinforced by the ennobling in fluence of African Slavery. This boast has been so often repeated, that it has obtained a certain acceptance among those most fa miliar with our early history ; and even well informed persons have allowed them selves to say that the conflict in which we are now engaged is a continuance of the old war between the Cavaliers and Round heads. So far as it is intended to say that the war is a part of the ever-recurring con flict between slavery and liberty, there can be no objection to this illustration. Rut if it be intended to say that the rebels are "cavaliers," or the descendants of cavaliers, there is just ground for objection. I know not if the armies of the Union, now fight, iug the world's greatest battle for human rights, may not be called roundheads ; but I am sure that the rebels,, now fighting for slavery, cannot be called "cavaliers" in any sense. They are not so in character, as barbarisiy attests. And they are as little | so historically. The whole pretension is a preposterous I absurdity by which the country has been j already too much deceived. It is not ered | itable to the general intelligence that such j a folly should be allowed to play such a I part. Unquestionably there were settlers i in Virginia, as there were also in New Eng | land, connected with aristocratic families. ! But they were so few in each colony as not I to modify essentially the prevailing popu lation, which took its character from the mass rather than from any individual. The origin of Virginia is so well authenticated as to leave little doubt with regard to the character of its population, unless you re ject all the concurrent testimony of cotem porarics and all the concurrent admission of historians Perhaps there is nothing in our eurly history with regard to which the authorities are so various and so clear.— From their very abundance, it is difficult to choose. TRI'E CHARACTER OF SETTLERS OF VIRGINIA. 1 begin with the early patron of Virginia, Lord Delaware, who after visiting the colo ny described the people there in a letter dated at Jamestown, July 7, 1610, as "men of distempered bodies and infected minds, whom no examples daily before their eyes, either of goodness or punishment, can de ter from their habitual impieties or terrify from a shameful death." (Strachey's His tory ; preface, p 32.) Language cannot be stronger. But the colony, which began with bad men, was increased by worse. *ln 1619 King James wrote to the Virginia company commanding them " to send a hundred dis solute persons to Virginia, whom the Knight Marshal shall deliver." (Strachey's His tory of Virginia ; vol. 1, p. 168.) Thus by royal command was this colony* made a Botany 7 Bay. The company, not content with the "hun dred dissolute persons" supplied by the King's order, entreated for more, until Captain John Smith, the hero of Virginia, was moved to express his disgust. He tes tifies to the evil when he wrote in 1622 : " Since I came from thence, the honorable company have been humble suitors to his Majesty to get vagabond -and condemned men to go thither ; nay, so much scorned was the name of Virginia, some did choose to be hanged ere they would go thither, and were." (Smith's New England Trials, 1622) This was bad enough. But the Virginia company seem to have been insensible to the shame of such a set tlement. Its agents and orators vindicated the utility of the colony on this account. In a work entitled " Nova Brittania, offer- ! ing most excellent fruits by planting in , Virginia," published in Loudon in 1609, and 1 dedicated to " one of his majesty's council ! for Virginia," it was openly argued, that j unless " swarms of idle persons in lewd i and naughty practices" were sent abroad "we must provide shortly more prisons and , corrections for their bad conditions ;" and j that it was " most profitable for our state , to rid our multitudes of such as lie at-home ! pestering the land with pestilence and pe-! nury, and infecting one another with vice ami villany, worse than the plague itself." Dr. Donne, dean of St. Paul's, poet also, in a sermon "preached to the honorable com pany of the Virginia plantation, 13th No- j vember, 1622," thus sets forth the merits j of the colony : " The plantation shall re- j deem many a wretch from the laws of death; i from the hands of the executioner. It shall sweep your streets and wash your doors from idle persons, and the children of idle persons, and employ them." Such were the puffs by which recruits were gained for Virginia. History records the unquestionable re sult, and here the authorities multiply. Sir Jonathan Child, in his " Discourse of the Trade of the Plantations," published in 1698, says : " Virginia and Barbadoes were first peopled by a sort of loose vagrant people. Had it not have been for our plantations, they must have come to be hanged or starved or sold for soldiers." Dr. Douglass, in his Colonial History, printed in 1649, gives the following testimony : " Our plantations in America, New England excepted, have been generally settled : 1. By malcontents from the administrations from time to time. 2. By fraudulent debtors as a refuge from creditors ; and 3, by convicts or criminals who chose transportation rather than death." (Douglass' History, Vol. 2, p 428.) Gra ham, the Scotch historian, who has written so conscientiously of our country, speaking, of the first settlers, says of Virginia : "A great proportion of these irnw emigrants consisted of profligates and licentious youths, sent from England by their friends, with the hope of changing their destinies, or for the purpose of screening them from the justice or contempt of their country ; * * * with others like these, more likely to corrupt or prey upon an infant commonwealth than to foster it." (Graham's United States, Vol. 1, p. 54.) The historian of Virginia, William Stith,.whose work was published at Williamsburg in the last cen tury, is not less explicit; " I cannot but re mark," he says, " how early that custom arose of transporting loose and dissolute persons to Virginia, as a place of punish ment and disgrace, which although origin ally designed for the advancement and in crease of the polony, yet has certainly proved a great prejudice and biudrance to its growth ; for it hath laid one of the fi- Jfl3 per Annum, in Advance. | nest countries of British America under the unjust scandal of being a mere hell upon earth, another Siberia, and only fit for the reception of malefactors and the vilest of the people ; so that few, at least few large bodies of people, have been induced will ingly to transport themselves to such a place, and your younger sisters, the north ern colonies, have profited thereby." (Stith's j History of Virginia, Vol. 1, p. 165.) Hut ) this is not all. Another historian of Yir ! ginia of our day, whose work was publish ] ed at Richmond, in 184f>, while showing J that pride in his State which would change i every settler into a " cavalier," has been j compelled to make the following most rue ful confession : " Gentl%men reduced to poverty by gaming and extravagauce, too proud to beg,too lazy to dig—broken trades men, with some stigma or fraud yet cling ing to their names—footmen, who had ex pended in the mother country the last shred of honest reputation that was ever held— rakes consumed with disease anil shattered in the service of impurity— libertines whose race of sin was not yet run—and unruly sparks packed off by their friends to es cape worse dest'nies at home—these were the men who came to aid in founding a na tion, and to transmit to posterity their own immaculate impress." (Howison, History of Virginia, Vol. 1, p. 169.) And this same historian confesses that social life in Vir ginia, beginning in such baseness, after more than a century, had developed "an aristocracy neither of talent, nor learning, nor moral worth, but of land and slave in terest." (Ibid, Vol. 2, p. 201.) So much for the testimony of history, even when written and printed in Virginia. I know not the number of desperate per sons.shipped to Virginia ; but there was enough to leave an indelible impression on the colony, and to give it a name in the lit erature of the time. It was this colony which suggested to Bacon the most preg nant words of one of his essays, which furnished to De Foe several striking passages in one of his romances, and which provoked Massiuger to a dialogue in one of his dramas. Let me glance for one mo ment at these illustrations. It is in the essay on " Plantations," that Bacon thus brands the early settlement of Virginia : "It is a shameful and unblessed thing to take the scum of people and wicked condemned men to be the people with whom you plant ; and not only so,but j it spoileth the plantation, for they will ever | live like rogues." (Bacon's Essays, 33.) j Surely there is nothing here out of which to construct a " cavalier." In the narrative of Moll Flanders, the author of Robinson Crusoe, who gives to j all his sketches this lifelike character that j they seem to be sun-pictures, exhibits this ! same colony. Here is a glimpse : " The ; greater part of the inhabitants were of two I sorts, Ist, such as were brought over by j the masters of the ships to be sold as ser- i vants ; 2d, such as were transported, after ! having been found guilty of crimes punish- j able with death. When they come here we j make no difference ; the planters buy them, and they work together in the fields till their time is out. * * * Hence ' many a Newgate-bird becomes a great man. We have several justices of the peace, officers of the trained bands and magistrates of the town they live in, that have been burnt in the hand. * * Some of the best men in the country are burnt in the hand, ard are not ashamed to own it. , There's Major , he was an eminent pickpocket ; there's Justice B r, he was j a shoplifter. Both of them are burnt in j the hand, and I could name you several such as they are" (Fortunes and Misfor tune of the Famous Moll Flanders, p. 88.) t Nothing is said here of '"cavaliers." I have referred to Massinger. Here is a curious bit from one of the grave comedies of that poet dramatist : " Luke. It is but to Virginia. Lady Frugal. How! Virginia! High Heaven forbid! Remember, sir, I beseech yon - What creatures are shipped thither. Anne. Condemned wretches, Forfeited to the law ; For the abomination of their life, Spewed out of their own country." The City Madam, .-let P., sc, 1. j Thus from every quarter the testimony ' accumulates. And yet we are constantly told that Virginia was settled by " caval iers." EAULY SETTLERS OE SOCTH CAROLINA. The territory now occupied by South Carolina originally constituted a part of Virginia that it was carved into a separate colony. Although differing in some re-! spects, the population seem to have been kindred in character. Ramsay, the histori-! an of the State, in a work published at j Charlestown, in 1809, says that "the CII-I igrants were a medley of different nations I and principals," and that among them were j persons " who took refuge from the powers j of fortune and the rigor of creditors; young j men, reduced to misery by folly and excess;; and restless spirits, fond of roving." To j these were added Huguenots, driven from France by the revocation of the edict of I Nantes. (Ramsay's History of South Car- i olina, pp. 2, 3, 5.) But Graham tells us that "not a trace of! the existence of an order of clergymen is < to be found in the laws of Carolina during j the first twenty years of its history."— (History of United States, Vol, 2, p. 88.) j And another historian says that "the in habitants, far from living in friendship and harmony anong themselves, were seditious , and ungovernable." (Hewitt's History J of South Carolina. Vol. 1, p. 104.) Such a people were naturally insensible to i moral distinctions, so that, according to Hewitt, "pirates were treated with great j civility and friendship," and, " by bribery j and corruption, they often found favor with the provincial juries, and by this means es-l caped the hands of justice." All of which is declared bv the historian to be "eviden- j cesof the licentious spirit which prevailed in the colony." (Ibid, pp. 92, 115.) Gra-; ham uses still stronger language, when be i says, "the Governor, proprietors, deputies, and the principal inhabitants, degraded themselves to a level with the vilest of! mankind, by abetting the crimes of pirates and becoming receivers of their nefarious acquisitions." (History of United States. Vol. 3, p- 121) Such is the testimony with , regard to South Carolina. To call such a i people "cavaliers" is an abuse of terms. THE " CAVALIER" PRETENSION DISMISSED TO COX- J TKJIIT. 1 hope that 1 have not taken too much time in exposing a yainglorious pretension ' I which has helped to give the rebellion a ! I character of respectability it does not de serve. I dismiss it to general contempt, as one of the lies by which slavery, the great est lie of all, has been recommended to weak persons who could be deceived by names. But you will not fail to remark how nat urally slavery flourished among such a con genial people. Convicts and wretches who who had set at naught all rights of prop erty and all decency, were the very people to set up the revolting pretension of " pro perty in man." CONFLICT BETWEEN SLAVERY AND LIBERTY. I come back to the postulate with which I began, that the present war is simply a conflict between slavery and liberty. This i is a plain statement, which will defy con ! tradiction. To my tnind it is more satisfac ! Tory than that other statement, which is often made, that it is a conflict between ar \ istocracy and democracy. This in a certain ' sense is true ; but from its generality it is less effective than a more precise and re j stricted statement. It does not disclose the whole truth ; for it does not exhibit the unique and exceptional character of the ; pretension which we combat. For centu ries there has been a conflict between ari stocracy and democracy, or, in other words, the few on one side have been perpetually striving to rule and oppose the many. But now, for the first time in the world's annals a people professing civilization has com menced war to uphold the intolerable pre tension to compel labor without wages,and that most disgusting incident, the whipping of women and the selling of children. Call these aristocrats or oligarchs if you will ; but do dot forget that their aristoc-" racy or oligarchy is the least respectable of auj ever attempted, and is so entirely mod ern that it is antedated by the Durham bull Hubbuck, the short horn progenitor of the oligarchy of cattle, and by the stallion Godolphin, the Arabian progenitor of the | oligarchy of horses, both of which may be traced to the middle of the last century I And do not forget that, if you would find a prototype in brutality, you must turn your ; back upon civilised history, and repair to ! those distant islands which witnessed an oligarehj r of cannibals, or go to barbarous Africa, which has been kept in barbarism by an oligarchy of men-stealers. LIBERTY THROTTGHDCT THE WORLD. Thus it stands. The conflict is directly between slavery and liberty. But because slavery aims at the life of the republic, tin conflict involves our national existence; and because our national death would be tin despair of liberty everywhere, it involves this great cause throughout the world. And yet I would not for one moment lose sight ! of the special enemy; for our energies can be properly directed only when we are able to confront them. " Give me to see," said the old Greek ; and this must be our expla nation now. COURTING. Courting iz a luxury it iz saliad, it is ise | water, it iz the pla spell ov the soul. The | man who* lias never courted has lived in vain ; he has been a blind man aiming landskapes and water he has been j a deff man in the land ov hand organs, and by the side ov murmuring canuals. Court ing iz like 2 little springs ov soft water that i steal out from under # rock at the fut ova mountain, aud run down the hill, side by ' side, singing and dansing and spattering each other, cdying, frothing and kaskading, now hiding under the bank, now full ov ; shadder, till bimebv tha jine and then tha Igo slow. lam in favor of long courting ; it gives the parties a chance to find out I each uther's trump kards, it is real good ex ercise, and iz just as innersent as two mer ino lambs. Courting iz like strawberries and cream —wants to be did slow tu git the flavor. 1 have saw folks git acquainted, fall in lnv, git married, settle down, git tew wurk, in 3 date. This iz just the wa sum folks larn a trade—akounts fur the grate number ov almiter mean mechaniks we hav and the poor jobs that turnout. Perhaps it iz best i sbud give sum good ad vise tew young men who ar about 2 court with final view 2 matrimony, as it was. In the lurst place, young man, yu want tew git jure system awl rite and then find a young woman who iz willing 2 be cour ted on the square. The next thing is to find out how old she iz, which you can dew bi asking her and she will sa that she iz 19 years old, and this you will find won't be far from out <>\ the wa. The next best thing iz to begin moder ate ; say onse every nite in the week for the fust six months, increasing the dose as the patient seems to require it. It is a fust rate wa 2 court the girl's mother a leetlc on the start, for there ix one thing a woman never dispizes, and that iz, a leetle good courting, if it iz done strickly on the square. After the furst year yu will begin 2 be well acquainted and will begin 2 like the bizziness. There is one thing I alwas advize, and that is not to swop fotografls oftener than onse in too days, 'less yu forgit haw the gal looks. Okashionly yu want 2 look sorry and draw in yurc wind as thopu hav pain ; lliis will set the gal to teasing yu 2 find out what ails yu. As a gineral thiug 1 wouldn't brag on nther gals much when i was courtin'. It mite look as tho yu knu 2 much. If yu will court 3 years in this wa, awl the time or. the square, if yu don't sa it iz a leetle "the slickest time in yuro life, you can get measured for a hat at mi expense, and pa for it Don't court for muuy nor buty, nor rela shuus ; these things are jist about as the kerosene ile refinin bizziness, liable to get out ofrcpair and bust at eny minute. Courr a gal for fun, for the lnv you bear her, for the vartue and bizziness there iz in her : court her for a wife and for a mother; court her as yu would court a farm for tho strenth ov the sile and the perfeooshun ov the title; court her as tho she want a fule anil yu a author ; court her in the kitchen, in the parlor, over the wash tub, and at the plan ner ; court this wa, young man, and if yu don't git a real good wife, the fault won't lie in the courting. Young man. yu can rely upon Josh Bill ings, and if yu kunt niak these ruls wurk, just send for him, and lie will show yu how the thing iz did—it shant cost yu a sent. Josh Billings. THE IRON PYRITES,—A man applied to Dr. Jackson, the celebrated chemist of Boston, with a box of specimens. "Can you tell me what this is, sir;"" "Certainly 1 can, sir. That is iron pyrites." "What sir ?" in a voice of thunder, "Iron pyrites." "Iron pyrites! And what's that ?" "That's what it is," said the chemist, putting a lot on the shovel over the hot coals, where it disap peared. "Dross." "And what is iron pyrites worth?" "Nothing!" "Nothing. Why there's a woman in our town owns a whole hill of that— and /'re ntarrifd /er."' WE consider the old man's reply to his son a to the meaning of the word humbug nearer correct than Webster's. " Humbug, my son, is when your mother says she loves me, and dont sew the buttons on my shirt." THE young lady who was struck with an idea, has since recovered. NUMBER 35.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers