TEHMS OF PUBLICATION.
.RErouTEitis published every Thursday Morn
'' v , o. Goodkich, at *2 per annum, in ad
l- it'ITSEMENTS are inserted at TEN CENTS
1 , , lii si insertion, ami nvK CENTS per line
' insertions. A liberal discount is
i. 't'o p rsous advertising by the quarter, balf
vi tr -Special notices charged one-half
'; ..m n gular advertisements. All resolutions
1 itious : communications of limited or 111-
iutcrest, and notices of Marriages and
■ ding five lines, are charged TEN CENTS
• jjU6
1 Year. 61110. 3 mo.
. *SO *35 *2O
cue m-aunn,...
Siiiiare. 16 x . <1 *
'.tnitor's and Executor s Notices.. S2 00
...r i .nds, five lines, (per year) 500
,vh nit- and others, advertising their business,
•i, T-'.-d *ls. They will be entitled to 4
, , iiiiuvd exclusively to their business, with
ji , of change.
libvrtisiug in all cases exclusive of sub
, tion t" the paper.
1 HUNTING of every kind in Plain andFan
,lone with neatness and dispatch. Haud
liUnks. Cards, Pamphlets, Ac., of every va
-stvle, printed at the shortest notice. The
Oitice has just been re-fitted with Power
and every thing in the Printing line can
■at, ,1 iu the most artistic manner and at the
a, . TERMS INVARIABLY CASH.
r.rr.dfovtl filcportTT.
THE PUNISHMENT OF TREASON
the last few years there have
two examples of rebellion against the
fth United .States, distinguished
attev disregard of human life, and the
<~i property. The object to be at
,,! in the one case was the slavery and
iation of a certain class of our pop
i and in the other, the emancipation
„ii same class from the pains and peu
. i hereditary bondage.
;:, rs <i Davis and his compeers were
; u ster spirits of the one attempt to
nlirow law and order, and John Brown j
os associates of the other. The way j
manner in which either sought his end j
, qiially revolting. Neither could !
well calculated the object in view,the j
citable steps without a certain convic-1
tint t-veiy tie of society, every con-1
itive principle of human action would
•1 be llung to the winds and disregar- j
And yet, such was the principle con
._ both that such conditions were ae-j
i d without scruple : both had brought .
.solws in look upon scones of expected
l ing and blood-shed without cumpunc
: pity for the sull'erer, and both had
.ilod themselves that such were but
.if success. Both had perilled all
el or all tlioy wore upon the result
struggle they sought, and asked of
initio no other verdict than that reu
! 1-v tin* battle-Gold.
1 w different the character and condi
- f tln se two men. The one had a
inl reputation which shed a luster
. '..Kmry which gave him birth;
tin-r wa. known to very few. The one
i fat lite N ader of a great party and
i 'i : e highest social circles ; the
w is : humble origin, and family,and
•- . 'no man's favor or notice. The one
! senates by the force and energy of
tie other sought no distinction but
I ...lide one of being just. The one
I : the applause of his fellow men, and
I- ;. • d all honor and manhood in his am
to wield the destinies of his favored
P while the other periled his life to elc
:w, long enslaved, and ignorant, and
i trodden.
■ <-ii'l of John Brown's struggles we
i He perished upon the scaffold, a
I 'v; to his love for universal freedom,
J y. t, strange to say, to the majesty of
| \V, We are not of those who excuse
t id design, or rather his mad attempt,
| • the colored race. It was sure to
| o: y from the first moment of its incep
| It embodied no element of success,
f - author could have had no correct
f f the required essentials of so great
I tot-prise. Neither could he have been
f iif mud in regard to the moral char-
I' >Uo- f the race lie sought to enlarge,
r wv can look upon it in no other light
I ■ a> -i manifestation of the wildest in-
I- y—,m insanity which the lightest
: reason had the power to dissi-
I u! em which was fed and nourished
I" • v litiun and a choice.
y the criminality of John Brown's
1 ■'iking. Such cases often occur: a
• nisiasni operating upon an excit-j
, ' i niiciit and and ardent irnagina-
I
■ impulsive longing desire to right)
| wrung, and to vindicate some j
■ a principle of race, —a glorious,
F ■" ; -illation against some oppres
stice, —a sympathy for fallen
- • . humanity, all conspire to
! ml perceptions and the will
agent of crime, even when the
; : 'apt* it to better things.
•i"Wii died because every man who
cut blihid in resisting the due
!i < law is worthy of death. No
I : -:eiit is secure where its law is
i " y trodden down without due at
i t0 it* majesty—even a bad law is
i hedience, because, even that
• v ' 'VEREinxTY of the government,
I 'aw will eventually be repealed,
i - time, even as those legalizing
'"! age awaited theirs. There
inls of hearts that prayed that
--'t be spared the death he de
milune stood the inexorable law,
inexorable judge, and there
!Il cxorable rope. It is worthy of
. lt the inexorable functionary,
-e have saved hiui from death, is
'"tut ;i convicted traitor and a
■ • the mercy he denied this poor
"tefl man, whose power to injure
! departed forever. Did the tho't
I * '".ml ~i Gov. Wise that he, in so
• K , would be a suppliant for par
tuij"g a worse form of treason
browns ? No, verily; and
... tiie n °bility of mind of the one,
"Jumous meanness of the other.
E. O. GOODRICH, Publisher.
VOLUME XXVI.
John Drown, with a lofty contempt for his
enemies, refused to ask for a pardon ; but
Gov. V\ ise prostrate himself in the dust to
live a few years longer in the disgrace he
has so well earned.
John Brown atoned for his crime in resist
ing the law by his death, but what shall be
the meet expiation for the one a thousand
times greater, perpetrated by Jefferson
Davis? Are they parallel cases? Is not
the guilt of Davis the same in kind though
immeasurably greater in degree ? And if
the majesty of law demanded its full and
entire satisfaction in the one case, will it
he content with anything less in the other?
One struck for the freedom of the slave,the
other to perpetuate his bondage. Let im
partial justice say which most deserved
death.
The American People have this solemn
question to answer. " The voice of our
brother's blood cries to us from the ground."
Prom the summits of a thousand hills and
battle fields, from the shores of a thousand
rivers, and bays, and gulphs, from innumer
able prison-pens reeking with the filth and
; slime, and offal of a starved and famish
ing soldiery, there comes up one long,loud,
deafening cry for JUSTICE, not revenge, but
justice, justice upon the guilty traitors who
compassed the downfall of the only free
government upon Earth.
And treason has ever been punished with
death if we except the case of one Euro
pean nation, in which, for minor degrees,
perpetual banishment to a cold and inhos
pitable clime is substituted. Great Britain
has always decreed death to the convicted
traitor—that has ever been her law,though
we may except a recent instance where her
policy decided the question, as in the Cana
dian outbreak a few years ago, as well as
in that of Ireland, also quite recent. How
many sturdy warm-hearted Scotsmen, how
many patriotic Irishmen, how many poor
ignorant Hindoos have paid the penalty of
death upon the scaffold, because they lov
ed their own native country best? Let
her own history answer, and then, having
truly answered, let her dictate to us our
duty. Do we not know that an order was
sent to the commander of the British army
in the war of the Revolution, to hang or to
shoot our own beloved Washington if he
became a prisoner ?
It is entirely unnecessary to notice at
length the instances in which the punish
ment of death lias been inflicted for the
commission of treason. In all ages, and
climes and countries, the traitor has yield
ed up his infamous being—who that in sav
age or civilized life, there is one universal
law of humanity that decrees his doom.
The human heart must change, it must
turn trai"vr to its most conservative in
stincts, ere it overturns the base of all so
cial organization and order, and govern
ment, among men.
Those who would persuade us that it is
the part of clemency as well as of policy
to spare the life of Jefferson Davis, forget
that he of all other men is most responsi
ble, most guilty of the crime and bloodshed
of the last four years. There is not a sin
gle moment of all that time in which he,
his own solitary self, might not have quiet
ed the angry and mistaken prejudice of the
j .South, and have opened the way to an ac
i commodation. It was his voice, that first
: " fired the Southern heart," his act, which
spread broad cast the seeds of secession,
his advice, and example which for long
years marshalled the moral forces of rebel
lion, and at the critical moment brought
them in direct antagonism to the Union.—
And when resistance and war became a
"fait accompli " he, as President of the
Confederacy, directed every movement and
organized every opposing force. Let every
man who indulges in a clemency for hint,
read his proclamations to the South, charg
ing the Northern soldiers with the per
petration of the most horrid and unnatural
crimes—crimes which he knew had never
been committed —let him revert to his mes
sages to the Rebel Congress—written to
influence the action and opinion of foreign
powers—messages which in every line be
tray the demagogue, and in every utter
ance asserts what he knew was false, and
' then let him say in his heart if Jefferson
Davis was not the head and front of the re
bellion, and directly chargeable with all
its violence and bloodshed, —and if he
should not be, by human law,-held respon
sible for all its wickedness and atrocity. It
is not denied that there were others as
zealous in this insane movement, but what
was their power, their opportunity for mis
chief? Nothing in comparison with his—
nothing. He was the Alpha and the Ontega,
tiie beginning and the end of this Great
Rebellion that sunk thousands of millions
of Treasure and sacrificed more than a
half million of lives upon the altar of
Jefferson Davis' ambition.
FIN is the most conservative element of
society, and ought to he cherished and en
couraged by all lawful means. People
never plot mischief when they are merry.
Laughter is an enemy to malice, a foe to
scandal, and a friend to every virtue. It
promotes good temper, enlivens the heart,
and brightens the intellect. Let us laugh
when we can.
A OI'EST at the Duke of Wellington's ta
ble blurted out the rpiestion, " Pray, were
you not surprised at Waterloo ?" With
what a neat and easy turn the Duke ran the
unhappy man through—" No ; but I am
now."
TOVVANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., SEPTEMBER 14, 1865.
YOU KISSED ME.
You kissed me! My head has dropped low on your
breast,
With a feeling of shelter and infinite rest,
While a holy emotion my tongue dared not speak,
I lushed up like a flame from my heart to my cheek;
Your arms held me fast—oh! your arms were so hold,
Heart beat against heart in that passionate hold :
Your glanees seemed drawing my soul through
mine eyes,
As the sun draws the mist from the sea to the
skies ;
And your lips clung to mine, till I prayed in my bliss,
They might never unclasp from that rapturous kiss-
Y'ou kissed me! My heart, and my breath, and my
will
In delirious joy for the moment, stood still ;
Life had for me then no temptations—no charms—
No vista of pleasure outside of your arms ;
And were I, this instant, an angel, possessed
Of the glory and peace that are given the blest,
I would Ring my white robes unrepiningly down,
And tear from my forehead its beautiful crown,
To nestle onee more in that haven of rest,
With your lips upon mine, and my head 011 your
breast.
You kissed me! My soul in a bliss so divine,
Keeled and swooned like a foolish man drunken
with wine,
And I thought 'twere delicious to die then, if death
Would come when my mouth was yet moist with
your breath ;
And these are the questions i asked day and night,
Must my life taste but one such exquisite delight ?
Would you care if your breast were my shelter as
then ?
And if you were here, would you kiss me again ?
NIGHT BEFORE THE WEDDING.
" This must be the last of your wedding
gifts, Vaiiinka," said Madatu Brcnton, hand
ing a small package to her daughter, "as
you are to be married to-morrow, and it is
now quite late in the evening, I think there
will be 110 more."
"Mother," said the young girl, in a frigh
tened tone, holding up a small jet necklace,
the contents of the package, " see, it is
black ! It is ominous. Oh ! what grief
can be in store for Henry and me?"
" None, none, Yaninky 1 this is mere fol
ly," said her mother, in a tone of rebuke.
But it was some minutes before the young
maiden recovered her calmness. Then con
quering her weakness by a violent effort,
she said, lightly :
" I am not silly, mother ! You will laugh
when I tell you it, but my blood run cold
and my flesh seemed to creep as I touched
this bauble, as 'f it had been a serpent. —
See, 1 do not mind it now !"
Vaninka Brentano was the only child of
a wealthy Prussian commoner. She had
been long betrothed to Henry Werder, a
young officer in the Prussian army ; but
owing to the wars in Europe their wedding
had been long delayed. Now, however,
there was peace, and the lovers were to be
united the day after the one toward the
end of which my story commences. Van
inka was devotedly attached to her be
trothed, and too happy at the near ap
proach of their nuptials to allow the black
necklace to disquiet her long. Her parents
left the room, and, throwing herself into a
chair, she leaned her head against its back,
and sank into a reverie, her fingers me
chanically playing the while with her last
gift. It was easy to see that her reflec
tions were of a pleasant nature, for ever
and anon a beautiful smile stole over her
features, and fading gradually away still
left the same expression of quiet happiness.
She had been setting there some time,when
another person entered the room. The in
truder was a young handsome man, dressed
in a full Prussian uniform. His face was
pale,and wore an agitated look,strongly con
trasting with the peaceful smile onVaninka's
lips. She did not hear him enter,and he-stood
for a moment looking, with his eyes beam
ing with tenderness upon her ; then, with
the air of a man who has a distressing du
ty to perform, he advanced and stood be
fore her.
" Henry !" she exclaimed, starting to her
feet, " I did not expect you this evening ;
has anything happened ?"
" Much, much, Vaninka. Sitdown again
and 1 will take this stool at your feet. My
own beloved, 1 come to tell you that our
wedding must be postponed."
" Our wedding day !" cried the astonish
ed girl.
" Even so ! You are astonished, perhaps
hurt ; have 1 told you abruptly ? Look in
my face, Vaninka, and see what I have suff
ered before 1 would grieve you with my
bad news."
" But, Henry, I do not understand. Why
must we wait still longer ?"
" Because 1 must leave you in twenty
minutes."
" Leave me ?"
"Yes. Napoleon has left Elba, and is
even now in Paris ; our troops leave the
city in half an hour."
" Henry, am I awake ? No, no, Henry,
you are not in earnest. Ah !" said she,
shuddering as she caught sight of the neck
lace, " I said it was ominous I—I—I—Hen-
ry, yon cannot leave me. To-night too !
the very night before the wedding 1"
"Vaninka?" he cried, straining her to
his breast, " I must go; see, the clock
points to the time I set to leave you. Van
inka ! She has fainted. Better so." And
kissing her pale face again and again, he
laid her on the sofa and went in search of
her parents. A few words told them all,
and bearing their fervent blessings, he de
parted.
Weeks passed, and Vaninka heard noth
ing from her lover. She grew pale and
thin ; her movements were languid, and
her former light step grew slow and heavy.
She no longer sang at her work, and would
let her hands fall listlessly into her lap,and
heave deep sighs, while sometimes the
great tears rolled unheeded down her
cheeks.
At length, there came the news of the
battle of Waterloo ; Napoleon had been de
feated, and all Europe was ringing with
the tidings. Vaninka's suspense now am
ounted to perfect agony. " Henry ?" she
would cry, "is he killed ? Oh when will
he come V
One morning when she was seated with
her mother, sewing, she was told that a
REGARDLESS OK DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER.
Prussian officer wanted too see her. With
her heart throbbing between fear and hope
she obeyed the summons. As she slowly
entered the room, a stranger rose, and ad
vanced to meet her.
''Mademoiselle Brentano ?" he inquired,
bowing.
" The same. Will you be seated, Sir ?"
" I am Frederick Listen ; 1 served in the
battle of Waterloo, in the same regiment
with Henry Werder, and he requested nte
to deliver this to you." And as he fin
ished, ho placed a small package in her
hands.
" Why don't he come himself? He is
not dead ? OH, say he is not dead !" she
said in a voice of such imploring agony
that the young soldier felt the tears rise in
his eyes.
" Lady," he said, in a sad tone, " Henry
fell at Waterloo."
Site did not scream nor faint, but sank
into the chair near her, with only a moan
of agony. He mistook her silent, tearless
agony for calmness, and began to relate the
particulars of his comrade's death, and de
livered his dying message to his betrothed.
Vaninka heard every word, but she neither
spoke imr stirred, but with her eyes fixed
on the little package he had given her. He
left, and her mother found her half an hour
after still in the same position.
"Vaninka," she said, "who was your
visitor ?"
There was no auswer.
" Vaninka," she said again, "you are ill," j
and she laid her hand gently upon her.
" Dead, mother, dead 1" she said, now
raising her eyes.
" Who is dead, darling ?" asked her
mother, frightened at her strange tone. j
Vaninka slowly opened her package, and
drew out the ring and hair it contained,
murmuring : " Henry ! Oh, mother he is |
dead 1" she fell sobbing in her mother's
arms.
*****
We change the scene now to Waterloo in
the latter part of the battle between the
armies of Napoleon and Wellington. The
morning we choose was the one in which
the Imperial Guards of the Emperor threw
themselves between the advancing Prus
sian forces and the English army to pre
vent their joining their forces.
Henry YVerder at the head of his regi
ment, felt his heart throb with intense ex
citement as the two immediate columus—
the flower of the French army, advanced
upon the English troops. They came on in
silence, until within range of the batteries
prepared to receive them ; then a terrible
discharge, seeming to rend heaven and
earth, scattering death among their ranks.
Still these veterans advanced. The honor
of their nation was in peril ; they could
die, but not txnn before the enemy; another
discharge of the Prussian troops, who had
been rapidly nearing the scenes of action,
then lashed amongst them. The Garde Im
perial de Napoleon was utterly annihilated.
One exultant shout was raised by the al
lied armies as this fearful crisis was de
cided in their favor.
But where, in the moment of victory,
was Henry? Stretched upon the field, his
head supported by his fellow officer, Fred
erick Listen, and the life-blood flowing
from a wound in his breast.
" Frederick," be murmured, in a dying
voice, "you will see Vaninka."
"If I live," answered his comrade, with
deep emotion
" You will give her this ring, aud cut
some of my hair off for her. Tell her my
dying thoughts were all of her—Heaven
bless you, my comrade. Farewell," and
his head fell heavily back.
" Dead," said Frederick, " and I must
leave hini here."
Frederick was mistaken. Henry was
not dead—he had only fainted. Some hours
afterward he was lying on a hospital bed
in a raving delirium.
For weeks his life hung upon a thread,
then a young constitution triumphed, and
he began to mend. His physician positively
forbade his returning to Prussia, and warn
ing him that his lungs were much affected,
he recommended a winter in Italy. Writ
ing a long letter to Vaninka to explain his
long absence, Henry made his prepara
tions, and, after an illness of over three
months, started in the early part of Octo
ber for Naples. He remained there, gain
ing strength and health until the next
June, and then started for home. During
his residence in Italy, he had written again
and again to both Vaninka and Frederick,
and wondered why he had received no let
ter in answer. His epistles never reached
them.
We now return to Vaninka. Contrary
to the fears of friends, she had seemed to
bear her loss with calmness. She had been
so long in a state of agonizing suspense,
that any certainty, even this direful one,
was a relief. Stili her step did not regain
its elasticity, and her grief, if not loud,was
deep. Her friends mistook despair for
calmness. She grew paler and thinner,
and now frequently kept her room for days
together.
Her lover had been gone some eight
months, when her hand was again sought
in marriage. George Weimer was a gen
tle, mild old man of about seventy years
of age, wealthy, and of large influence in
his native town. He was an old friend of
Vaninka's father, and had long thought of
seeking Vaninka for his bride. When,
however, he had seen the place coveted
about to be worthily filled, he had become
silent on the subject of bis desires, and
cultivated the acquaintance of his lady
love's betrothed. Now, deceived as others
were by Vaninka's quiet demeanor, he ad
vanced his suit. Her parents knowing
that he would spare no pains or expense
to make her happy, urged their child to
accept his offer, and consented to see him.
" Mr. Weimer," she said, " I wish to tell
you how grateful I feel for your kind and
flattering offer, and to place my situa
tion fully before yon. Since 1 heard of my
irreparable loss, I have felt that I should
soon join him ; still I have endeavored to
faithfully peform the duties left to me. I
do not think I shall live long. But if I can
by any means add to the happiness of an
other, God has granted me the will to do
so. If you will accept my hand knowing
that my heart is in Uenry's grave, it is
yours, and I will endeavor to fulfill my du
ties as a wife, trusting to your love and in
dulgence to forgive if I fail to make you
happy while I am with you."
The good old man was too happy to have
his offer accepted on any terms, and he
thanked her warmly. A day was soon set
for the wedding, and all things were mak
ing ready.
Mr. Weimer hoped by traveling and
other diversions of iter mind, to raise his
bride's spirits and prolong her life.
*****
Again it was the night before Vaninka's
wedding, and again she was seated, lost in
thought, it the same chair that we first
saw her iu. Now, alas, the reverie was a
very painful one, and low, choking sobs
took the place of her former happy smiles.
She was setting painfully reflecting on the
past, when a shadow fell on the ground be
fore her, and raising her eyes, she saw a
stranger standing looking at her. He
stood with his back to the light, and she
could not see his face, but something made
her heart stand still as site arose to greet
him. ITe only said one word, "Vaninka !"
and exclaiming " Henry !" she sprang to
his embrace, lie caught her passionately
jto his breast, and held her there as if he
feared another separation.
" So," said a pleasant voice at the door,
" there is a change in bridegrooms," and
Mr. Weimer entered the room. Vaninka
stood a moment confused, but taking her
hand he placed it in Henry's, saying :
" Take her, Henry ; she is too young, good
and handsome for an old man like myself.
I was an old fool to think of it. Take her,
and rny warmest blessings attend your
union." And with a kind, Learning smile,
the old man left them tug ther.
This time Vaninka's wedding was not
postponed, and as Henry and Vaninka
stood before the altar, Mr. Weimer, watch
ing the happy, blushing face of the bride, J
owned that he could not have called up,
with all his devotion, such an expression of
perfect love and jcy.
SCENES AT SALT LAKE-
Mr. Bowles, of the Springfield, (Mass.,)
Republican, who makes one of the party
accompanying Hon. Schuyley Colfax in a
trip across the western plains, sends a
pleasant rambling- epistle to that paper,
from which we extract as follows :
This, is f tail—these the Mormons. Ido
not marvel that they think they are a chos
en people ; that they have been blessed of
God, not only in the selection of their home,
which consists ol the richest region in all
the elements of a State between the Mis
sissippi valley and the Pacific shore, but
in the great success that has attended their
labors, and developed here the most grand
and self-sustaining industry that the west
ern half of our continent witnesses. Surely
great worldly wisdom has presided over
their settlement and organization ; there
have been tact and statesmanship in the
leaders ; there have been industry, frugal
ity and integrity in the people, or one could
not witness such progress, such wealth,
such varied triumphs of industry and in
genuity and endurance as here presents
themselves.
No internal city of the continent lies in
such a field of beauty, unites such elements
of nature's formations, holds such guaran
tees of greatness, material and social, in
the good time coming of our Pacific devel
opment. I met all along the plains and
over the mountains the feeling that Salt
Lake was to be the great central city of
the West. 1 found the map, with Montana,
Idaho and Oregon on the north, Dacotah
and Colorado on the east, Nevada and Cali
fornia on the west, Arizona on the south,
and a near connection with the sea by the
Colorado river in the latter direction, sug
gested the same. I recognized it in the
Sabbath morning picture of its location
and possessions ; I am convinced of it as I
see more and more of its opportunities, its
developed industries and its unimproved
possessions.
The Mormons and Gentiles rivalled each
other in their attentions to the distinguish
ed visitors. Among the entertainments
was a serenade, an excursion on the lake,
a visit to the strawberry patch of one of
the saints, and a peep in the harem. A
good account is given of President Brigharn
Young, who one day graciously presented
himself, attended by a crowd of high dig
nitaries.
He is a very hale and hearty looking
man, young for 64, with a light grey eye,
cold and uncertain, a mouth and chin be*
traying a great and determined will—hand
some perhaps as to presence and features,
but repellant in atmosphere and without
magnetism. In conversation, he is cool
and quiet in manner, but suggestive in ex
pression - t has ideas, but uses bad gram
mar. He was rather formal, but courteous,
and at the least affected frankness and
freedom, if he felt it not. To his followers,
I observe that be was master of that pro
found art of eastern politicians, which con*
sists of putting the arm affectionately
around them, and tenderly inquiring for
health of selves and families ; and when
his eye did sparkle and his lips soften, it
was with most cheering, though not war
ming effect—it was pleasant but did not
meet you. Of his companions, Ileber (J.
Kimball is perhaps the inast notorious ;
his free aud coarse speech lias made him
so. He nasa very keen sharp eye, and
looks like a Westfield man I always met
at the agricultural fair in Springfield. Dr.
Bernhiscl has an air of culture and refine
ment peculiar among his associates ; he is
an old, small man, venerable and sugges
tive of John Quincy Adams, or Dr. Garnett
of Boston, in his stile. Two or three others
of the company have fine faces.-—such as
you would meet in intellectual or business
society in Boston or New York, but the
strength of most of the party seems to be
in narrowness, bigotry and obstinacy.
But hospitality is not all couliued to the
Mormons, the Gentiles having made up a
brilliant social party, in which ladies of in
| telligence and culture joined. The writer
says :
The Gentiles, or non-Mormons are becom
ing numerous and influential here, and cit
izens and soldiers comprise many families
of culture and influence. They are made
up of officers of the Federal Government,
resident representatives of telegraph and
staae lines, members of eastern or Califor
nia business firms having branches here,
and a very fair proportion, too, of the mer
chants of the city. Some of the more intel
ligent of the disgusted and repentant Mor
mons swell the circle.
LEAVES are the lungs of plants. Proba
bly more than half the food of plants enters
the leaves in the form of an invisible gas.
per Annum, in Advance.
COLONEL JACOB M. CAMPBELL.
The importance of the pending political
campaign in this State, and the enthusiasm
everywhere created among loyal men by the
nomination of two distinguished soldiers
for the only offices to be filled this year by
general ticket, naturally call for more than
a brief reference to the antecedents and
characteristics, of our standard-bearers.—
In another place we give such information
as we possess concerning the civic and mil
itary record of Major General Hartranft,the
candidate for Auditor General, and in this
article we propose to tell what we know of
our friend and fellow-citizen, Col. Compbell
the nominee for Surveyor General.
Jacob M. Campbell is a native of that
old Whig stronghold, Somerset county,
where lie was born just forty-four years ago.
When a mere youth his parents removed to
Allegheny city, where he went to school
until 1835. In that year, being fourteen
years old, he became an apprentice in the
office of the Somerset Whig, a Democratic
newspaper, in which he remained until he
had mastered as much of the printing busi
ness as could be learned in a country office
of that day. Jn 1840 he left Somerset and
worked for some time "at case" in ilie office
of the Literary Examiner , a monthly maga
zine of considerable merit published iu Pitts
burg. From here our "jour printer" found j
his way to New Orleans and into another
printing office. But his active nature was
satisfied. The steam-boat trade on the low
er Mississippi presented in 1<340, as does
the oil business in 1865, tempting induce
ments to enterprising spirits who care less
for hard knocks than for the substantial
benefits which they sometimes produce.—
Laying down his composing stick, the boy
of nineteen became a steam boatman, and
for several subsequent years tilled succes
sively the positions of clerk, mate and part ;
owner of a vessel, always, however, making
Pennsylvania his home, which he frequent
ly visited. In JB4 7 the iron business of
our State attracted his attention, and he
embarked in it at Brady's Bend. In the :
same year he married. In 1851 he follow- (
ed the course of empire to California, but
did not luug remain there, and in 1853 we
find him in Johnstown, assisting in the j
construction of our mammoth rolling-mill, j
With this splendid enterprise he remained j
connected up to the breaking out of the
war, holding all the time au important and
responsible position. He was one of the j
few men who knew tunc to build and man-!
age successfully the greatest iron establish- ;
ment in the Union.
lu April, 1861, Fort Sumter was bombar
ded and the first call appeared lor volun
teers to •'rally round the ilag.'' At this
time Mr. Campbell was first lieutenant of a
volunteer company in Johnstown, and this
company at once tendered its services to
the governor, who promptly accepted them.
Jt taw thejirnt company t<> enter Camp C'ur
tin. Upon the organization of the Third
regiment of Pennsylvania Volunteers, Lieu
tenant Campbell was appointed Quarter
master, a position which he filled with great
acceptability until the regiment was dis
charged. On the 28th of July he was mus
tered out of service, and on the 30th was
commissioned to recruit a regiment. In
due time the regiment was raised, the com
panies composing it having beeu mainly re
cruited in Cambria and Somerset counties,
and two in Lehigh and Northampton coun
ties. The regiment was designated the Fif
ty-Fourth.
For two years this regiment performed
the arduous duty of guarding sixty miles j
ot the Baltimore and Ohio J'ailroad, and i
while thus engaged really protected the |
Maryland and Pennsylvania border from I
rebel invasion and guerrilla outrages. It I
is a fact which may not be generally known 1
to Pennsylvaniaus that to the Fifty-Fourth 1
regiment they owe much of the security 1
they enjoyed in their persons and property i
during 186*2 and 1863, the two most critical \
years of the war. The position of the Fifty i
Fourth was, at all times, anexeedinglv try
ing and dangerous one, requiring the exer
cise of the utin >st vigilance and the sound-'
est discretion. During its guardianship of !
tiie railroad, it was frequently engaged in
skirmishes with the enemy, and upon more j
than one occasion gave timely and valua
ble information ot his movements and de
signs. In addition to his ordinary duties '
as commander of the regiment, Col. Camp
bell was almost daily called upon during j
this period to decide disputes between reb- 1
els and Unionists residing along the line of i
the railroad, and it is no exaggeration to i
say that in no instance was justice cheat
ed or rascality rewarded. It is not our as j
sertion merely, but the testimony of all
are cognizant of the facts, that the com-1
mander of the Fifty-Fourth manifested on ,
all occasions the possession of judicial tal- j
ent of a high order. Of his purely execu- j
tive ability, the successful and always sat- i
isfactory manner in which the regiment 1
guarded those sixty miles of railroad in a
hostile territory is the only proof that we
need to cite. We had almost omitted to j
mention that from March, 1863, until March 1
1864, Col. Campbell was in command of the '
Fourth brigade, First division, Eighth army !
corps, in which was his own regiment. j
Early in 1864 Gen. Sigel took command j
of the Department of West Virginia, and |
moved with all of his available troops to t
Martinsburg, preparatory to a movement J
up the Shenandoah Valley. In a reorgani- i
zation of the troops which took place, Col.
Campbell, at his own request, returned to '
the command of his regiment. At the bat-'
tie of New Market May, 15th, the regiment
suffered severely. It occupied the extreme
left of the liue, and was the last to leave ;
the field. Under Hunter the regiment took
a prominent part in tlx- battle of Piedmont,
June 2th, again occupying the left of the
line, and this time flanking the enemy's
right and attacking him in the rear. After
the battle Col. Campbell was assigned to
the command of a brigade, and as a special
favor his own regiment was transferred to
it, that it might remain under its old com
mander. The brigade suffered heavily in
the attack upon the entrenchments at Lynch
burg, and covered the retreat of Hunter's
army when the attack failed. July 24th
the brigade participated in the battle of
Winchester, and upon the fall of Col. Mulli
gan Col. Campbell took command of his di
vision. He continued in its command until
its consolidation into a brigade, consequent
upon its many losses in killed and wounded,
and afterward commanded the brigade.—
After Sheridan came to the head of the De
partment, he participated in the engage-
uirmt#* In the Slmnadoah under that renown
ed chieftain until hff was mustered out of
servico nearly two months after the expira
tion of his three years' term of enlistment.
His total period of service, including the
three months' campaign, it will thus be
seen, covered nearly three years and a
half.
(JoL Campbell's record as a politician will
bear examination. Reared in the school of
Jackson Democracy, he voted in 1844 for
Polk and Dallas. In 1848, however, he
abandoned the party which, he had become
convinced, was the champion of slavery ex
tension and the foe to Pennsylvania's best
interests, and voted for the Free Soil candi
dates, Van Huron and Adams. His resi
dence in the South had shown him the evils
of slavery, and he therefore gave his vote
against the party which sought its exten
sion. In 1852 he voted again for the Free
Soil nominees, llale and Julian, and in 1856
was the delegate from Cambria county to
the Fremont Convention. He took an ac
tive part in advocating Republican princi
ples in his own county during that year,
and at once took rank with the people of
the county as a politician of fairness, abili
ty and zeal. His influence in county poli
tics continued to be felt during succeeding
years In 1851) he was presented by the
Republicans of Cambria for the Senatorial
nomination in the district then composed of
Cambria, Blair and Clearlield, and a little
more than one month ago he was again un
animously selected as the choice of the
Union party of Cambria, Indiana and Jeff
erson. That he was not nominated on ei
ther occasion by the district conference
was not owing to a want of appreciation
of his worth and services, but to the sup
posed superior claims of the county which
was honored with the nominee.
Such is, in detail, the private and public
record of our candidate for Surveyor Gener
al. If it is not a brilliant one, it is, at least
consistent, manly and patriotic.
NUMBER 16.
Of Col. Campbell's mental and moral char
acteristics it becomes us to say but little,
lie is a shrewd business man, a public-spir
ited citizen, a good worker and an honest
man. Without having enjoyed the advan
tages of a liberal education, he is, neverthe
less, one of the best read men in the State.
He is a clear thinker, and remarkably cool
nd cautions in judgment. In a long ac
quaintance we have rarely known him to
err in his estimate of public men or the
wisdom of public measures. He is a man
of marked sagacity. His social character
istics are of that class which never fails to
create the warmest friendships and to com
mand the respect of all. That he is worthy
of the office for which he has been nomina
ted is conceded by those who know the man.
That he and his gallant colleague, General
Hartranft, will be elected by overwhelming
majorities, is already a foregone conclu
sion.—Johnstown Inbuilt.
A GLORIOUS EVITAPIT. —On a grave-stone
in New London appears the following in
scription. The records of ancient Greece
or Home do not exhibit a nobler instance of
patriotic heroism:
" On the 20th of October, 1781, 4,000
Englishmen fell on the town with fire and
sword. A line of powder was then laid
from the magazine of the fort to the sea,
there to be lighted--thus to blow the fort
into the air. William Hotmau, who lay
not far distant, beheld it, and said to one
of his wounded friends,who was still alive,
' We wiil endeavor to crawl to this line.—
We will completely wet the powder with
our blood. Thus will we, with the little
life that remains to us, save the fort and
magazine, and perhaps a few of our com
rades who are only wounded." He alone
had strength to accomplish this noble de-
sign. In his 30th year he (lied on the pow
der he had overflowed with his blood. His
friends, and seven of his wounded compan
ions, by that means had their fives preserv
ed."
After this simple narrative are the fol
lowing* words, in large characters :
" HERE LIES WILLIAM HOTMAN."
TEE NUMBER OF LANGUAGES. —The least
learned are aware that there many lan
guages in the world, but the actual num
ber is probably beyond the dreams of ordi
nary people. The geographer, Babi, enum
erated eight hundred and sixty, which are
entitled to be considered as distinct lan
guages, and five thousand which may be
regarded as dialects. Adelung, another
modern writer on this subject, reckons up
three thousand and sixty-four languages
and dialects existing, and which have ex
isted. Even after we have allowed either
of these as the number of languages, we
must acknowledge the existence of almost
infinite minor diversities ; for almost every
proviuce has a tongue more or loss pecul
iar, and this we may well believe to be the
case throughout the world at large. It is
said there are little islands, lying close to
gether in the South Sea, the inhabitants of
which do not understand each other. Of
the eight hundred and sixty distinct lan
guages enumerated by Babi, fifty-three be
long to Europe, one hundred and fourteen
to Africa, one hundred and twenty-three to
Asia, four hundred and seventeen to Amer
ica, one hundred and seventeen to Oeeani
ca—by which term he distinguishes the
vast number of islands stretching between
Hindostan and South America.
FREAK OF NATURE. —A story is told of an
apple tree planted over the grave of Roger
Williams to this effect: The tree had
pushed downward one of its main roots in
a sloping direction, and nearly straight
course, toward the precise spot that had
been occupied by the skull of Roger Wil
liams ; there, making a turn conforming
with its circumference, the root followed
the direction of the back-bone to the liips,
and thence divided into two branches, each
one following the leg-bone to the heel,
where they both turned upward to the ex
tremities of the toes of the skeleton. One
of the roots formed a curve at the part oc
cupied by the knee-joint, thus producing an
increased resemblance to the outlines of
the skeleton, as if, indeed, molded thereto
by the powers of vegetable life. This sin
gularly formed root has been caretully pre
served, as constituting a very impressive
exemplification of the mode in which the
contents of the grave had been entirely ab
sorbed.
JOKE OX A MINISTER. —A young fellow was
taking a s'eiglr-ride with a pretty girl, when
he met a Methodist minister who was some
what celebrated for tying the knot matri
monial at short notice, lie stopped him,
and asked, hurriedly—
"Can you tie a knot for ine ?"
" Yes,'' said brother I? , " I guess so;
when do you want it done ?
" Well, right away," was the reply ; " is
it lawful, though, here in the highway ?"
asked the wag.
" Oh, yes ; this is as good a place as
any—as safe as the church itself."
" Well, then, I want a knot tied in my
horse's tail, to keep it out of the snow !"
shouted the wicked wag, as he drove rap
idly away, fearing lest the minister, in his
profane wrath, should fall from grace.