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' fiii; PRINTING of even* kind in Plain and Fan- j, , rs >ne with neatness and dispatch. Hand le Blanks, Cards, Pamphlets, Ac., of every va- I •>, ui'l style, printed at the shortest notice. The I ixißTEic i )FFICE has just been re-fitted with Power [ s. aud every thing in the Priuting line can L sc-uted in the most artistic manner and at the [ q r;l t, -. TERMS INVARIABLY CASH. geUcted ftaetaj. THE PtiVERAL. BY HENRY B. HIBST. I. I TV ground is white with apple blossoms, As though a fragrant snow lay there : I Aud from the meadows' breezy bosoms The blackbirds' music floods the air : |i ;t he who heard the robin whistle I. i-t spring, among the apple's bloom. Liberator, Father, Savior— I'lii- Martyr ! passes to the tomb. 11. | Through the long avenues of cities. Through the commingling people's hum, j Marshalled by sighs, and sobs, and pities, The sacred relic onward come. The very heavens themselves are weeping, While tears till every earthly eye, As. mournfully, the cortege, sweeping To solemn dirges, passes by. 111. I 'll .-lowly bells, toll very slowly! .Murmur in moans a nation's woe! j |! ..in minute guns—most melancholy— Heaven's thunder echoed from below! I 11. ,s- every door, shut every casement: lirape every banner's fold with black : j M uru. silent streets, from roof to basement : He journeys houce who comes not back ! IV. I igh the long cycles of the ages, St arching the catacombs of Time, blazoned in gold on history's pages, Na other name stands more sublime ; A i<l since the awful crucifixion, Ami since the damned deed of Cain, No reeord lives of such affliction, None greater numbered with the slain. V. I 1 In* ground is white with apple blossoms. As though a fragrant snow lay there ; Ami from the meadows' breezy bosoms I In blackbirds' music tills the air. but lu- who heard the robin whistle Last spring, among the apple's bloom, I In Liberator, Father, Savior— l hi Martyr '• passes to the tomb ! Tiiladelphia. April 22, 1865. j REMARKS OF HON. J. HOLT. AT A j Dinner in Charleston, S. C., April 14, 1865. [ At a dinner given on the evening of the Btii of April, 1865, at the Charleston Hotel, Biiiieston, South Carolina, by Major Gen ial Gillmore, to the guests on board of I* steamer Arago, invited by the Secretary I War to witness the ceremony of raising II nitod States flag on Fort Sumpter on at day, Major General Anderson having en toasted, in the course of his reply, ■id a warm tribute to the Secretary of ar, Major General Dix, and the Hon. J. I . 1 u* the support they liad given him fiii!* in command of that fort ; whereupon, fiiur called upon by the guests present, li Unit spoke, in substance, as follows : I L.TIM - A M. GENTLEMEN : While 1 am most ritet'ul for the kind words of Muj >r Gen ial Anderson, and for the generous reoep oii which has been given to them, I feel tt • d !•■ to speak to you to-night, much s y<m have encouraged me to do so. As )' FA pressed the ruins of Sumpter to *>'• auiid the memories and associations fliirh cluster there, and as I looked out Ms historic surroundings, and upon kit pan iramaof events which rct.*!i-> away from its crumbling walls, I d'eiii need emotions too profound for ut traiice, and was deeply conscious that si liice would best express the awe, and " ! b r, and admiration, and thanksgiving 'ta wnich 1 was tilled ; and so I feel now. all thank the President of the United tales tm* that delicate and earnest apprc a tii in <d the cravings of the popular heart, hieh prompted him to order that the flag 111 ch four years ago was lowered before y insolent arid treacherous foe should, bv |.c hands of the then gallant commander 8 that fort, be to-day Hung to the breeze, Muted and honored by imposing ceremo b's on the part of both the land and naval lies of the republic. It was an epoch, My a proud epoch, in our lives, to have *ii privileged to witness this intensely r "iiatic and poetic triumph of the symbol '' "j country's honor and independence, f in the light of the gigantic struggle 1 which the nation has since been engaged, ' 'nipter and its heroic garrison stand trans- L'nrcd before us, and we realize at once "'* -Tandeur of the role they played, and '' vastiifN.s of the influence which their •Rage and faithfulness have exerted upon • "iibsequent history. The cannonades '■' we heard upon more than a hundred fields attic are but the multiplied echoes of 1 g"tis ot Sumpter, while the brilliant *" the Spartan fortitude, and the ir i'*'"sib!e enthusiasm which have marked i l l "gross ot our conquering army and *"D, are hut answering pulsations to the j:*",'" 1 ' 1 ' "pii'it that there met aud defied the ; • ■ Mioek of the rebellion. The wave of , li ' lrst rolled away from the walls of that " s ,"' swept on from stronghold to •-hold, and from State to State, ever W "g and surging in its course until, in .- ry circuit, it came back to Suinpter bearing high on its crest the banner w 'ich we have looked with gladdened v ' " hiy ; not a star lost, not a glory .J' 1 "' ''"''hematic in its entirety and ' the iuture of our beloved conn ■ ■ as are the blackened and shattered T'trts over which it floated emblematic t i,' .. lo ' tRRes of the rebellion, whose Rait , ' '' s " ,,w heard on the plains of 1„! "" s ' 4 "d desolated Virginia. 'area the satisfaction common to you E. <>. GOODRICH, Publisher- VOLUME XXV. all, that General Anderson, and a part of his command, embracing that loyal and fearless man of God, the then chaplain of Sumpter, have been spared to participate in the rejoicings of to-day, and to be with us to-night. Those august ceremonies de rived a new grace and dignity from the presence of these well-tried patriots.— There is not a brick or stone in those walls which did not speak to us in their praise, while to my vision that glorious old flag, vindicated and redeemed at last, seemed to tlutter in the sunlight the more proudly for having been unfurled by him who had so consecrated it by his valor. Of this true soldier 1 may speak with confidence, as 1 shall with pleasure, since I had some per sonal knowledge of his bearing amid the trying scenes to which the celebration in which you have been engaged so distinctly pointed. In the world's history it lias occasion ally happened that wicked statesmen and rulers have made great, and, for themselves, tatal mistakes in the choice of the instru ments of their crimes. Hut of all the blun ders of this class which have occurred, probably the most complete, the most dis astrous for the plans of him who made it, | was that committed by the traitor Floyd, when he selected, then Major, now Major General Anderson to command the forts of Charleston harbor. This was the more re markable since Floyd rarely mistook his men, as is sufficiently shown by his assign | meat of Twiggs to the Department of Tex as, and by other appointments and adjust ments of the military service, looking to a lubrication of the machinery of the rebel lion, on which 1 will not pause to comment. Great, too, have been the surprise and ter ror of those wicked rulers, when they have found their trusted instruments failing in i their hands ; but perhaps tew of these ex ! hibitions have equalled that which was j witnessed at Washington when the unfa!- , tering fidelity of Major Anderson and his ! little command was first fully manifested. When intelligence reached the capital that by a bold and dexterous movement this j command had been transferred from Moul trie to Sumpter, and was safe from the dis abled guns left behind, the emotions of Floyd were absolutely uncontrollable—em otions of mingled mortification and anguish and rage and panic. His fury seemed that of some baffled fiend, who discovers sud denly opening af his own feet the gulf of ruin which he had been preparing for an other. Over all the details of this passion ate outburst of a conspirator, caught and entangled in his own toils, the veil of offic ial secrecy still hangs, and it may be that history will never be privileged to transfer ! this memorable scene to its pages. There is one, however, whose absence to-day we have all deplored, and to whom the nation is grateful for the masterly ability and lion like courage with which he has fought this rebellion in all the vicissitudes of its career —your Secretary of War—who, were he here, could bear testimony to the truthful ness of my words. He looked upon that scene, and the country needs not now to be told that he looked upon it with scorn and defiance. With all that the garrison at Sumpter endured you must be familiar. Cncheered, beleaguered, without provisions or ade quate munitions of war, taunted and threat ened by day ami by night, they were corn polled to witness from hour to hour the con struction of a girdle of batteries, slowly rising and pointing their guns on the fort, without the authority on the part of its brave inmates to lift a hand to resent these insults or to resist these deliberate and for midable preparations for their destruction. When, however, the conflict came, and the blood of this handful of soldiers was de manded as a cement for the Southern Con federacy, then the country sprang like a giant from its lethargy, and was at once filled with impulse and purpose as grand as they were irrepressible. But while the na tion rushed almost en masse to meet the enemy, it must be confessed that it did so with but dim and imperfect perceptions of the field of duty that was opening before it. When, however, the progress of events unmasked the true character of the rebel lion and laid bare in all their ghastliness its inherent barbarisms and atrocities, as well as its ultimate aims, gradually at first, but rapidly at last, light was poured upon the national mind and conscience, as the timid dawn kindles blazingly into day, and now, the whole land, in council and in the field, has, as under a resistless inspiration from on high, seized the clanking fetter of the slave, and the bloody lash of his driver aud has flung them scornfully full into the face of the rebellion. lii answer to the graceful and generous compliment of our friend Major General Anderson, permit me to say, that from the first moment this conspiracy disclosed its cloven foot in the Capitol until now, I have never doubted of my own duty, and had the entire race of man confronted me on the question, ray convictions in regard to that duty would not have been the less complete. Nor did 1 ever doubt of the final success of our Government in putting the accursed re hellion under its feet—though I knew not how long we might be fated to toil, to suffer, to bleed, and to die on fields of battle and in loathsome prisons of the South ; still the assurance has never forsaken me, that sooner or later, when purged of our national sins, we would be accepted of Him in whose hands are the issues of all our plans and of all our yearnings. For weary mouths and years His face seemed hidden from us, and though the land was furrowed with graves, our standard stood still. But now that, under the leadership of your true-hearted Chief Magistrate, the country has made a sincere and earnest endeavor to purify itself from this great transgres sion against the cause of human freedom the cloud has been dissipated, and that face, so long hidden, is looking down upon us, through the startling events of the last few weeks, with a smile in its brightness, above the sun shining in his strength. In these events, so entrancing for us all, and in those which must rapidly follow, may be found proof well nigh conclusive that the Republic which was born ou the 4th of July, 1770, was born not for death, but for im mortality, and though its bosom may be scarred by the pouiards of conspirators, and though its blood may be required to (low ou many fields, yet, that neither the sw>rd nor the bayonets of traitors can ever reach the seat of and ex haustless life. While in these eveuts there is ground for TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., MAY 11. 1865. boundless gratitude to the Fattier of us all, and to our unconquerable armies and navy, there is also ground for boundless rejoicing and exultation. We exult in no unhallowed or merciless spirit. Before him who sit ieth on the circle of eternity we bow our heads in adoring thankfullness, for these proofs that he still rules among the chil dren of men, and that we are still the peo ple of his care ; but before the world we exult and shout aloud for joy—joy with a thousand tongues and it thousand songs— that this rebellion with all its crimes, with itl! its fetid and pustulous baseness, is at length being trodden down—down t<> the hell front which it came. We accept this its evidence that the demon of all evil seen in the apocalyptic vision in chains, has not yet broken his letters, and the ruined fort resses and devastated cities of the rebel lion, its palaces and homes in ashes, its people exhausted and impoverished,we bail these as the footprints of llirn who dwelleth among the seraphim, and who hath said : 'Vengeance is mine, and t will repay.' Woe to that people who, under the promptings of a christian humanity, shall presumptu ously throw themselves between that ven geance aud its victims. Victory is often attended with dangers for the victors, quite as great its those that marked the battle, though of a totally diff erent character. The crisis which the Am erican people are now approaching cannot fail to perceive these dangers as belonging to those all-absorbing questions which must arise on the overthrow and dispersion of the rebel armies. The triumph which is being achieved by the Republic is not one of mere material forces, but it is the tri umph of truth, of justice, of honor, of loy alty, of freedom, and of civilization itself, and the very airs which kiss our flag are luminous with the moral glories which are inseparable from these victories. From every church and praying household, aye, and from every devout heart in the land, a continual prayer should g-o up that the fruits of this prolonged and sanguinary conflict may not be suffered to perish, and that nothing may be done to abate the mor al grandeur of the sacrifices which have been made, or to fling contempt upon the memories of those martyred armies which have so nobly died that liberty might live. But if the work is to pause while treason is only scotched, not killed ; if the knife is to be stayed while there remains a single root of that cancer of slavery which has been eating into the national vitals, then in vain shall we have expended thousands of millions of treasure, and in vain will the country have offered on the red altars of war the bravest of its sous. It is the duty of the Government, not by words, for they are already found in our Constitution aud laws, but it is its duty by stern and impla cable action to stamp upon this monstrous crime against our national life, and upon the parricides who have committed it, the brand of an undying infamy—an infamy so black and loathsome that the generation to which we belong shall shrink from it with horror, and those which are to follow us will recall it with a shudder. Let us be ware, lest under the impulses of a mis called magnanimity, we impiously assume to be wiser than God in claiming that crime can be repressed without punishment. Let it then be our fond and solemn trust that the Government will maintain to the end the position which it has occupied from the beginning—that this is, in very deed, a war upon crime and criminals—criminals with whom we cannot fraternize, with whom we can make no compromises, with out, in the judgment of mankhid, and at the bar of history, becoming criminals our selves : without giving an absolute re spectability and a new growth to the sen timent of treason in the South, and turn ing loose in these distracted States a band of unwhipped malefactors, with their hands filled with the seeds of another rebellion, to be by them scattered and planted at their will. As for the masses, the ignorant deluded masses, who have blindly followed the standard of this revolt, let there be full and free pardon, if you will, on their sin cere return to their allegiance ; though it does seem to me that it would be but de cent to allow these thrice guilty rebels a little time in which to wash the blood of our brothers from their hands before we hasten to offer them our own. But as for the original conspirators and leaders who, through long years, in the Capitol, in the Cabinet,and iu all the aruiy too, deliberately prepared this rebellion ; who, withput the pretence of wrong or provocation, traitor ously set it on foot ; who have pressed it forward with all the malignity of fiends, and with all the cowardly, revolting cru elty of savages ; who, through perjury, and rapine, and arson, and butchery, have made our mice happy country one great house of of mourning, and from whose skirts, in the sight of the Eternal, there is now dripping the blood of near a half a million of our people- for these miscreants, the Iscariots of the human race, may God in His eternal justice forbid that there should ever be shown mercy or forbearance. You must well remember that while Sum ter was beseiged, and daily threatened with bombardment, rebel commissioners went up from the city—the political Sodom from which all our sorrows have come—to Washington. They were sent to announce to the Government of the I'uited States the terms on which it could have peace with the slave aristocracy of the South, and they went with all the hauteur and insolence of the Roman ambasadors of old, who clamed to carry the destinies of nations in the folds of their robes. It was a long and weaiy time before your ex cellent President was able to organize a commission responsive to this. Great was his embarrassment in finding the right men, and when found, great was his embarrass ment still in getting them into the right places. At length, however, he succeeded in constituting the commission, and for a good while these peace commissioners,with all necessary credentials, and plenary powers, have in a most becoming manner and with entire success been treating with the public enemy throughout the South. Though these commissioners are well known to you, it may not be invidious or improper for me to name a part of them. They are Grant, and Sherman, and Sheridan, and Farragut, and our noble host who sets to my right, Major General Gillrnore—God bless hiin—and a long line of illustrious commanders, who, ou many hard-fought holds, and in "the imminent deadly breach," have displayed those lofty qualities of REGARDLESS OF lIKNTNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER. courage and incorruptible loyalty, which must crown this generation of our people with an imperishable halo. More unselfish, more patriotic commissioners never set out in pursuit of a nation's peace. Best as sured that the work which they are doing will be well done. The peace which they shall make will not be a wretched, hollow truce, patched up between cowards upon one band and traitors on the other, and which, based on the shattered fragments of our dismembered country, would be broken by the tirst whipped slave, who, escaping front his master, should seek an asylum on the soil of the free. No, the peace they are conquering will be negotiated on the Held of battle amid the triumph of our arms, and with the stars and stripes stream ing as a meteor over the heads of the com missioners. Such a peace, and such only, will endure, because it will rest, not on the perfidious promises of red-handed conspir ators, but on the broken swords and dis mantled fortresses of the rebellion. Such a peace as must follow from the overthrow of the military power of the re hellion being secured, the obligation will then press upon the nation, not only to strike the last fetter from the limbs of the last slave, but also to see that guarantees are created against the re establishment of slavery, through some cunningly-devised system of tutelage, which, enforced by State law, would entail upon this oppressed race the same ignorance, and poverty, and social and political disfranchisement to which they have heretofore been subjected. That the lingering sentiment of disloyalty in the South, added to ancient prejudices, and to the treacherous and savage instincts known to be inspired by this institution, will, under a changed nomenclature, seek to accomplish this result, can scarcely be doubted. Upon the solution of this mo mentous question of reconstruction, the American people can well afford to wait, and it is their duty to wait, lest by preci pitation false steps should be taken which could never be retrieved. There should be the utmost patience and circumspection,but no haste. The country wants no more traitors in the Capitol, aud no more State Governments into whose organizations the spirit of treason has been breathed. If a loyal population cannot be found to put the machinery of State government into opera tion, then let us wait and see if the next will not be a wiser and better generation. In the meantime, let these former States be subjected to military rule. They constitute part and parcel of the territory of the re public, and no apology is to be made for holding and governing them as such. While the ballot-box is the rightful source of au thority over loyal men, the legitimate and reliable foundation for the authority of the Government over traitors, is the sword. With peace restored, and with the duties it must impose performed, upward toward Him who, from tlie councils of eternity, hath declared that " the laborer is worthy of his hire," we may turn our eyes, and in humble confidence invoke his blessing; because through carnage and sacrifices of every kind we shall at last have had tin courage to do unto others as we would have them do unto us, and shall have lifted up to the high plane of our own christian civ ilization and political rights millions of hu man beings on whom the wrongs and sor rows of centuries have been pressing.— Then, too, we will be able to look the na tions of the earth in the face without a blush, because we shall have faithfully ac quitted ourselves of the solemn trust that humanity has committed to our hands, and by restoring the republic, in despite of all the power and crimes of the enemies with in its bosoin, we will have afforded a dem onstration of the capacity of our race for self-government, transcending far in its iin pressiveness even that furnished by our fa thers in founding our institutions. On the issue of this struggle lias been staked, as 1 verily believe, the concentrated fruits of the battles for free governments in all ages and clinics of the world, and we shall have preserved them ; and this extended land, which, in its soil and climate, in its rivers and lakes and mountain ranges, seems to have been fashioned by the hand of tlm AI- | mighty as a temporal paradise for his peo ple, who shall proudly present to the na tions of the earth as no longer disfigured and degraded by the mockery of institu- j tions which, while claim-tig to he free, rest their foundations on the enormities and spoils of servitude. And then, both on land and ocean, and upward to the sky, our national anthem will rise, mounting higher and higher, and swelling grander and gran der, and growing yet wilder and wilder in its exultant strains, because for the first time in our national history, those strains will be uumingled with the moan of human bondage. And then, my countrymen, with your starry banner, undimmed and untorn, and floating'on every breeze from Maim- to the (iulf, and from the Atlantic to the Sierra Nevada and the shores of the Pacific, the republic, redeemed from this cankering curse of slavery and from the machinations of its conspirators, regenerated and puri fied by the struggle through which it has passed, and ennobled by a sense of duty performed, will rebound from the blow it lias received, and will enter upon a career of prosperity, of freedom, of national great ness, so vast, so far reaching that in the distant centuries to come, amid the gran dure of its power and the unclouded splen dors of its renown, even this mighty con flict, with all its agonies and its triumphs, may he forgotten, or, if recalled, only as a dim and almost unremembered event in the sublime history of the past. ANDY JOHNSON'S " SPUNK." When we were at Nashville, seven years ago, anecdotes of the coolness and courage of Governor Johnson were among the cur rent coin of conversation. One gentleman, I a political opponent of the Governor, an eye-witness of the occurrence, told us that a placard was posted in the town, one morning, announcing, in the well-known language of Tennessee, that Andy Johnson was to be shot "on sight." Friends of the governor assembled at his house to escort him to the State House. " No," said he, " gentlemen, if lam to be shot at, 1 want no man to be in the way of the bullet." He walked alone, and with unusual delib eration, through the streets to his official apartments on Capitol Hill. Another eye-witness related a similar story. He was announced to speak on one i'of the exciting questions of the day ; and ■ loud threats v ere uttered that, if lie dared , | to appear, lie should not iqave the hall alive. : J At the appointed hour he ascended the plat ■ j form, and, advancing to the desk, laid his • pistol upon it. He then addressed the au r | dience in terms as near like the following • as our informant could recollect : i | " Fellow citizens :It is proper when free i men assemble for the discussion of impor taut public interests, that everything should i | he done decently and in order. I have been • informed tli • t part of the business to be i i transacted on the present occasion is the assassination of the individual who now • has the honor of addressing you. I beg • respectfully to propose that this be the first • business in order. Therefore, if any per ■ son has come here to-night for the purpose indicated, 1 do not say let him speak, but | let him shoot." ■ i Here he paused, with his right hand on • his pistol, and the other holding open his I coat, while with his eyes he blandly sur veyed the assembly. After a pause of half i a minute, he resumed. "Gentlemen, it appears that I have been i ; misinformed. T will now proceed to ad dress you on the subject that has called us together." Which he did, with all his accustomed ■ boldness and vivacity, not sparing his ad- I versaries, but giving them plenty of pure | Tennessee. Tailor as he was, he is ii<> snob. Soon j after be was inaugurated Governor of Tenn i essee, a high official of the State, who had I been bred a blacksmith, presented him with | a set of elegant tire-irons, made with his ! own hands. " I will give him a return in kind," remarked the Governor. He bought j some of the finest black broad-cloth that j Nashville could furnish, procured a set of j tailor's implements, got the judge's tueas j ure from his tailor, and made a complete suit of clothes, setting every stitch Ititn j self, and presented them to his friend. The work, we are told, was all done in the Gov ernor's room in the State House. The hap py wearer of the garments pronounced 1 them a perfect fit, and when we heard the I story, in 1858, he had them still.—A r . V. I Jleiriew. A FLORAL TOWN IN FLORIDA. Jacksonville, as stated in my recent I sketch of the St John's river, is situated twenty-five miles from its mouth, directly at the point when the river, after its flow of over two hundred miles from the south, j turns suddenly to the eastward for the | ocean, and being on its north bank, is out , side of the right angle. Its location, tliere | fore, is most delightful. From the wharves on Bay or River street, the view is exceed- I ingly beautiful, the river presenting its I broad surface for many miles southward.— i Occasionally, a jutting headland or pro montory, large enough for a splendid plan | tation, with sufficient improvements to j make a delightful and even magnificent I island-like home, meets the eye Some of them are plainly distinguished seven miles away. On the western side of the angle j an equally grand and splendid view is had down the river. The principal improve ments were on the north side, though just before the war a number of beautiful houses were put up on this western angle—giving ; promise of a rapid growth for the town in j that direction. The streets of the lower portion of the town run east and west, par allel with the river's bank, and are inter sected by streets at right angles from the river. The original projectors had given i themselves room ; the streets being 100 j feet wide, separated so as to leave the j blocks 300 feet on each side. Each street I had its shade trees of water oak, China or j Tree of Paradise, and magnolia, all ever | greens except Tree of Paradise ; but as i there only a few of these used as shade j trees, eacli street might be regarded as an I avenue completely embowered with ever Lgreons, and being provided throughout with plank pavement, the ■entire town was | one superb promenade. The court-yard uf- 1 i forded a great variety of flowers and flow i ering trees and shrubs, a little skill only | being required to have them in proper sue-[ j cessicn, so that each day of the year would I i furnish its appropriate bouquet from one's : j own garden. A glance at a partial list | will give your lady readers an idea of the | charm a floral town presents. Here, then, j are loses in endless variety ; lilies, such as j they cultivate at the north with great care j in green-houses and conservatories, flaunt ing their beauties and shedding their fra grance as if Jack Frost were a myth ; cac j tus in variety ; of trees, the orange, and I lemon, and date palm ; of shrubs, the ole ; under, pomegranate, cape myrtle, oape jes samine ; of vines, the yellow jessamine, honeysuckle, and a verbena, which, because it knows no winter, grows without stint, gamboling at will any and everywhere.— Geraniums, too, as they do not freeze down, attain sturdy proportions, astonishing us Northerners, who are accustomed to pro ! tect them with so much care. Before the war the population of the place was three thousand. The amount of goods bought annually from Northern mar kets was estimated at five hundred thou sand dollars. There were in the immedi ate vicinity of the town on the river bank, 15 steam saw-mills, turning out over 60,- 000,QOO feet of lumber yearly. Of church es, the Methodists, Presbyterians, Episco palians, Baptists, and Catholics each have one ; of hotels there were five, the Judson House, Florida House, Taylor House, Buf lington House, and the Merchants' Hotel. The Judson House was an imposing edifice, standing in a position to command a view both up and down the liver. It had rooms for the accommodation of 60(1 boarders.— And, by the way, it may be proper just here to say, that commencing here at .Jack sonville, and counting Magentia Springs, 2 miles up on the west side, Green Cove Spring, 14 miles off, Mandarin, directly op posite, Pilatka, 75 miles distont, Valusia, 140 miles. Knterprise, 175 miles, and Smyr na, including St. Augustine, there were, as 1 have been told, fifteen thousand invalids from the North stopping every winter for recreation and the benefit of their health. Put war has spread its desolations over this fair land, and this pleasant town, whose beauties 1 have briefly described, has felt its terrible shock. On the evening of March 10, 1802, ten of those saw mills were fired, and, together with 10,000,000 feet of lumber and several wharves and storehouses, were at one time in flames.— This WUB one year after the State seceded, per* Anmnn, in Advance. and only one month after the completion of the Jacksonville and Tallahasse railroad. Tiie town was taken March 11, 1.562 ; evac uated April 8, captured again in October, and held four days, and taken again No vember 10, 1802, and held till March 29, 1863 each party burning more or less as | they left, the greatest conflagrations being . when the rebels left lirst, and when our troops left in this last instance. It was ; again occupied by our troops on February T, 1864, and has been in our possession ev lor since. It presented at that time a sad and sickening picture. Entire blocks were naught but piles of blackened bricks. The i long avenues of evergreen shade trees that I once arched the streets from end to end, : were broken into sections, and vacant S places showed only the charred trunks of | the proud magnolia and live oak. The | Protestant Episcopal and Catholic church es were gone. The famous Judson House, the Buffington and the Merchants Hotel, the ! spacious warehouses and splendid stores, and perhaps one-half the magnificent resi dences that once adorned the town, were I all swept away. Fences that enclosed gar ; dens and court-yards have gone to kindle | soldiers' fires, or to make a floor for his tent. It was ruin everywhere. The wood en pavements were either burned or had rotted away, and heavy army wagons worked the streets into heaps of sand.— But a year of occupancy, with some confi dence in the future, have wrought encour aging changes. Two mills have been re ! built or refitted. Lumber may be had— fences reappear ; gardens begin to be cul tivated ; improvement is the order of the ; day—and everything now points to a speedy | resuscitation of the town. And since the I news of Lee's surrender, the faces of the people are lighted up with smiles, and all are hopeful, expecting to see the place be j come a city as it teas, prosperous and hap py Corresfjvndence Newark Advertiser. THKIFTY AND CARELESS. Iwo girls sat in Mrs. North's Nursery, one cold January evening, to enjoy the [comfortable fire. The maid of all work was busy beside the evening lamp repair ing an old gingham apron. It was a very unpromising piece of work when she be gan, but she worked away with a cheerful good will, and soon its appearance was greatly improved. Susan might, it is true have bought her a new apron without any 1 inconvenience ; she had three hundred dol j lars out at interest, a legacy from her : grandfather, but she prudently let it re main where it was, content with receiving ; her interest every year, and supplementing ;it with with her earnings. Many had said !to her they would not live out, now they ! could do better. " Why not invest her money learning a trade, which would be far. more genteel ?" But Susan was stout I and hearty, work agreed with her, and sew | ing did not. She felt that if she did her i duty and deported herself properly, she would be as much respected doing house-j ! work as if sewing for a living. The children were all asleep, and the nurse was rocking leisurely beside the fire, | while a trunkful of unmended cloth lay un i touched iu her room. " Before I'd patch an apron ! Susie," she said, laughing ; " I know you'll be an old I maid, you are so particular." " I would rather patch than wear ragged clothes," said Susan good naturedly. " I will not wear a torn dress if 1 can help it, ! but I have one which has a whole breadth made up of darns and patches. I wore it j last winter through, and it will make good : carpet rags now." Jane rocked and laughed away at her I prudish companion, and Mrs. North, who j was knitting by the table, remarked to i Jane that it would be an excellent thing if j she would follow Susan's example. " I learned a lesson in economy when a i young girl, which I never have forgotten, j though it was from a very simple thing. I i was spending the night with a young i friend, when her sister-in-law had occasion j to cut out a new dress for her child. They', were not poor people, but she took down a | roll of carefully ironed pieces of stout cloth and laid them out on her patterns, studying carefully over them, to see how she could : piece out a lining to the best advantage.— ! She was neither miserly nor parsimonious ;! she was only frugal, and her frugality was the secret of the family's prosperity. The j dress looked just as neatly when it was done, as if the lining had not been made j out of a half a dozen pieces. Her husband i is now Judge P . If his wife had been ; a wasteful, untidy woman, he would never ! have had the means nor the heart to rise in | the world. " Girls you may set it down as a fact, that a woman who is not prudent and eco nomical will never secure a comfortable living, even if she marries a man with ev er so luciative a business. If there is not thrift at home, there will never be a cheer ful, comfortable look about anything. You know Mrs. Herson is always fretting be cause her husband does not get on in the world. She has a drawer full of finery, china-ware, and the like, she is saving up until she shall "get a better home and have a parlor." Her husband makes good wa ges, but it will be a long time I am afraid before she will get into that coveted house. She thinks it " mean " to practice the small economy—to warm the frying-pan and save the little drippings of suet, to piece out linings, make over old clothes into lesser ones for the children. She will have a new set of cheap jewelry every little while, that she may 'look like other folks.' Now there are plenty of laboring men who make no more than he, who have now a little home and garden of their own, all acquir ed by their industry and frugality. " 1 read a little book when a child, writ ten by a great German writer called Rsch okke. The title of it was " Mend the hole in your Sleeve." It began, I believe, with an account of two boys sitting down on a bench under a tree, telling what great things they would be and do when they were men. " You will never be anything," said the old man who was seated near them. The lads turned not well pleased at the inter ruption to their day dreams. " I see that you have a hole in your sleeve," said lie. " A boy that is going to be anything when a man, will not have a hole in his sleeve. If his mother or sister cannot mend it for him, he will mend it him self." The book follows the history of one of the lads, who took that as his motto, and the history abounds in useful sugges tions ami liinls about mending all manner of bad, thriftless ways. T never knew any one to read it without being influenced by it to repair and set in order their own pos sessions, whether they were little or much. " Depend upon it, girls, careless untidy people never will be thrifty, never get be fore hand in the world They live in con stant discomfort, and have a thousand times more trouble for want of well mend ed and promptly made garments than thrif ty people ever have in putting theirs in or der.— Country Gentleman. REMINISCENCE OF THE EVACUATION OF RICHMOND As the events of that dreadful Monday morning of April 3d recede from us upon the tide of time, circumstances that wpit then swallowed up and lost sight of in tin general Pandemonium standout most prom inently upon the mind's vision. It was be tween the hours of 6 and 7a. m. The gov ernment had gone—crossed the turbid wa ters of the James never to return—and Richmond was no more the capitol of the Southern Confederacy. The bridges and river side of the city were in flames, and the fire, struck by a south-east breeze, swept towards Muin-st., leaping from house to house and block to block. The inces sant noise of exploding shells in the ar senals and magazines, and the crash of fall ing walls, went up on every side, while the lurid smoke, ashes and red-hot cinders roll ed down in the adjacent streets, envelop ing the thousands who filled them, some hurrying to and fro with pitiful relics of their household goods ; others, and by far the greater number, iutent on plunder. The sun rose red and round, and hung amid the lurid smoke and glare of the flame like a great beacon of woe, or the awful unlashed eyejof an avenging Deity. Men were not excited, but stunned, and stood dumb apparently, watching with vacant stare the rolling and surging of the sea <f fire, that was lapping up with the tongues of flame their consecrated homes, and sweeping away the accumulated comforts and toil of years. Some wept silently like children, and wrung their hands like wo men. Remorseless flame ! What cared it for tears ? It leaped for very joy :it leaped and danced upon the house-roofs ; it shot up in great pyramids, and curled up and nestled down in the chambers, "Everin a new place Lifting its fiery face." At about*B o'clock, the conflagration, viewed from an elevated position, fearfully reminded the spectator of the ancient paint ings representing hell. Whole acres were billowed over by flame and smoke, and a great cloud, the smoke of its torment, hung over the city. Verily had the "day for which all other days were made," been ac tually come, the consternation, terror and agony of the scene could hardly have been enhanced. The devil was loosed for his little season ; God seemed to have removed his Providence, and all was whirling to chaos and ruin together. Thieves, black and white, were abroad by hundreds. Re treating in advance of the fire, they broke open stores, robbed and plundered, and then aided in the spread of the flames by firing the stores plundered. Few saved a tenth part of their plunder : and that plun dered by one set of thieves often fell into the hands of another set of pillagers. The gutters and sidewalks of Main-st., were strewed with silks, satins, bonnets, boots, hats, clothing, fancy goods and cosmetics. Men drunk with the liquor that was to be had ad libitum, flowing in the streets and decorating the sidewalks in bottles and casks, staggered under the burden of great loads of stolen goods. Men, women, boys and girls, half-stifled with the smoke that rolled along the street, "tugged, pulled, hauled and tusselcd" with one another, all endeavoring to save as much as possible from the general wreck and ruin impend ing—not for the owners, but for themselves. Weak children tugged at boxes of tobacco, rolling them when too heavy, and over end to places of safety. Women grappled with barrels of flour, screeched and yelled to each other for assistance, but rarely got it unless a co-partnership of spoils was agreed upon. Carts, drays anil wheel-bar rows were running in a continuous train up town, carrying away the plunder of the pillagers. No law, no police, there was no one stop the wholesale plundering and transfer of goods. Rights in property were wiped out ; no man owned anything. And it was wonderful to witness the apathy of owners. Men who were threatened with the greatest loss seemed least concerned,and the least disposed to save their stock.— They stood like blocks and saw their wealth scattered to the four winds of heaven : part ed among thifves, scattered and trampled in the street. Some few had a realizing sense of the situation, and exerted them selves to save what they could.— liichmond Whig. NUMBER 50, THE MANSION OF JEFF DAVIS. —The man sion of Jeff Davis is, of course, a great centre of attraction in Kichrnoud. It is situated at the Corner of Marshall and Gov ernor streets, in a very sightly location, about three squares north of the capitol, and is a substantial, unostentatious man sion of a somewhat antiquated style, but presenting an air of solidity and decided comfort. It is not roomy enough for much display, but an inspection of its interior re veals quite as much elegance as could be expected from the limited resources of the Confederacy. The rooms on the main floor are about eight in number, and Brussels and velvet carpets, lace and damask cur tains, rosewood, set in blue and gold, mar ble-top tables, French plate mirrors, easy chairs and lounges in red and richer cover ing, abound with the same degree of good taste and profusion that prevail in the man sions of many ol your well-to-do Now Yorkers. The bed-rooms are luxuriously furnished; while the china and glassware, and the cul inary arrangements generally, attest the fact of good living on the part of the occu pants. The house was left intact by Davis, but most of the family effects were re moved. Mrs. Jeff had packed her trunks and gone to the country a few days before, and did not have time to return before the city was evacuated. Jeff Davis' carriage, built for him three years ago in New Orleans, at an expense of $3,000, is among our captures. It was taken to the Danville depot, but there was no room for it, and then it was run against one of the walls to burn ; but by some I means it was rescued, though in a dam aged condition. It is in good running or j der, however, and with a few repairs it will again be quite a stylish vehicle. The pair ■ of bay horses that hi- used to drive were run out of the city, together with all the | other live stock. THE beautiful sublimity of natural things of this world should make us restless for the attainment of the beauties of the world to come. " IF we can't hear, it ain't for the lack of ears,'' us the ass said to the cornfield.
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