Bradford reporter. (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, February 28, 1867, Image 1

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    TEIUIS OF PUBLICATION.
THE REroßTr.it is published every Thurs
day Morning, by E. O. GOODBICH, at $2 per
tinuum, iu advauco.
ADVERTISEMENTS, exceeding fifteen
Imes are inserted at TEN CENTS per line for
first insertion, aud FIVE CENTS per line for
subsequent insertions. Special notices, in
serted before Marriages and Deaths, will
be charged FIFTEEN CENTS per line for each
insertion. All resolutions of Associations ;
, ..mmunications of limited or individual
interest, ami notices of Marriages or Deaths
exceeding five lines, are charged TEN CENTS
per line.
1 Year. 6 mo. 3 mo.
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Half " 40 25 15
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Estray,Caution, Lost and Found, aud other
advertisements, not exceeding 10 lines,
three weeks, or less, $1 50
Administrator's A Executor s Notices.. 2 00
Auditor's Notices .2 50
business Cards, five lines, (per year*. .5 00
Merchants and others, advertising their
business, will be charged S2O. They will
be entitled to i column, confined exclusive
ly to their business, with privilege of change.
Advertising m all cases exclusive of
subscription to the paper.
JOB PRINTING ol' every kind, in Plain
and Fancy colors, done with neatness and
dispatch. Handbills, Blanks, Cards, Pam
phlets, &c., of every variety and style, prin
ted at the shortest notice. The REPORTER
OFITCE has just been re-fitted with Power
Presses, aud every thing in the Printing
line can be executed iu the most artistic
manner and at the lowest rates. TERMS
INVARIABLY CASH.
tfavils.
rpHOMAS J. INGHAM, ATTOR
-1 KEY AT LAW, LAPORTE, Sullivan
C;>nnty,Pa.
pEORGE B. MONT AN YE, AT
VJT TURKEY A T I.A IF—Office in Union
Block, formerly occupied by JAMACKARLANK.
WT. DAVIES, Attorney at Law,
• Towanda, Pa. Office with Wm. Wat
kins, Esq. Particular attention paid to Or
phans' Court business and settlement ot dece
dents estates.
\TERCUR & MORROW, Attorneys
JLTX at La ie, Towanda, Penn'a,
The undersigned having associated themselves
together in the practice of Law, offer their pro
fessional services to the public.
ULYSSES MERCUH, P. D. MORROW.
Marcb 9,1865.
PATRICK k PECK, ATTORNEYS AT
X LAW. Offices :—ln Union Block, Towanda,
Pa., formerly occupied by Hon. Wm. Elwell.aud
in Patrick's block, Athens, Pa. They may be
consulted at either place.
H. w. PATRICK, apU3 W. A. PECK.
ÜB. McKEAN, ATTORNEY
• COUNSELLOR AT LAIC, Towan
da. Pa. Particular attention paid to business
in the Orphans' Court. July 20, 1866.
HENRY FEET, Attorney at Law,
Towaula, Pa. jun27, 66.
W r 11. CARNOCHAN, ATTOR
• KEY AT LAW Troy, Pa. Special
attention given to collecting claims against the
Government for Bounty, Back Pay and Pensions.
Office with E. B. Parsons. Esq. June 12,1865.
£4DWARD OVERTON Jr., Attor-
Jney at Laic, Towanda, Pa. Office in Mon
tauyes Block, over Frost's Store. July IJ, 1865.
JOHN N. CALIFF, ATTORNEY
AT LAW, Towanda, Pa. Also, Govern
ment Agent for the collection of Pensions, Back
Pay and Bounty.
So charge unless successful. Office over
the Post Office and News Room. Dec. I, 1864.
Ol). STILES, M. 1)., Physician and
• Surgeon, would announce to the people ol
Rome Borough and vicinity, that he has perma
nently locate at the place formerly occupied by
Dr. G W. Stone, for the practice of his p ofes
sion. Particular attention given to the treat
ment of women and children, as also to the prac
tice of operative and minor surgery. Oct. 2,'66.
Dll. PRATT has removed to State
street, (first above B. S. Rnsso'! & Co's
Bank). Persons from a distance desirous 1 cm
.-ulling him, will be most likely to find him on
Saturuay of each week. Especial attention will
be given U> surgical cases, and the extraction of
teeth. Gas or Ether administered when desired.
July 18, 1866. B. S. PRATT, M. I).
DOCTOR CHAS. F. PAlNE.—of
fice in GORE'S Drug Store, Towanda, Pa.
Calls promptly attended to at all hours.
Towanda, November 2s, IS6G.
LM>\Y'D MEEKS—AUCTIONKKK.
-Lai All letters addressed to him at Sugar Run,
Bradfoid Co. Pa., will receive prompt attention.
I FRANCIS E. POST, Painter, Tow
anda, l'a, with 10 years experience, is con
fident he can give the best satistaction in Paint
ing, Graining, Staining, Glazing, Papering, Ac.
ear Particular attention paid to Jobbing in the
country. April 9, 1866.
J J. NE W ELL,
COUNTY SURVEYOR,
Oi well, Bradford Co., Pa„ will promptly attend
to all business in his line. Particular attention
given to ruuning and establishing old or dispu
ted lines. Also to surveying of ail anpattented
lands as soon as warrants are obtained, my 17
\\~ HERSEY WATKINS, Notary
T T • Public is prepared to take Deposi
tions, Acknowledge the Execution of Deeds.
M rtgages, Power of Attorney, and all other
instruments. Affidavits and other pipers may
be sworn to before me.
Office opposite the Banking House of B.S.
Russell A Co., a lew doors north of the Ward
House. Towanda, Pa., Jan. 14, IBC7.
Dcnttstrji.
TIWENTY-FIVE YEARS EXPERI
.I ENCE IN DENTISTRY.
J. S. SMITH, M. D., would respectfully inform
the inhabitants of Bradford County that he is
oermanantly located in Waverly. N. Y., where
be has been in the practice of his profession for
the past lour years. He would say that from his
long and successful practice of 25 years duration
he is familiar with all the different styles of work
J rie in any and all Dental establishments in
e.ty or country, and is better prepared than any
"■ ler Dental operator in the vicinity to do work
tee best adapted to the many and different
uses that present themselves oftentimes to the
Dentist, as he understands the art of making his
own artificial teeth, and has facilities tor doing
the same. To thosw requiring under sets of
teeth he would call attention to his new kind of
work wiiich consists of porcelain for both plate
and teeth, and forming a continuous gum. It is
more durable, more natural in appearance, and
much better adapted to the gum than any other
kind of work. Those in need of the same are
invited to call and examine specimens. Teeth
filled to last for years and ottent mes for lite.—
( hlorofotm, ether, and "Ki/.ous iuide" admin
istered with perfect safety, as over four hundred j
patients within the last four years can testify, j
1 will be iu Towanda from the 15th to 30th of
every month, at the office of W. K. T \YLOR j
(formerly occupied by Dr. O. H. Woodruff.)Hav'- j
lug made arrangements with Mr. Taylor, I am I
prepared to do all work in the very best style, at
01s office. Nov. 27, 1865.
I)R H. WESTON, DENTIST
Office in Patten's Block, over Gore's Ding
and Chemical Stors. Ijan66
WARD HOUSE, TOWANDA, PA.
On Main Street, near the Court House.
0. T. SMITH, Proprietor.
Oct. 8,1866.
AMERICAN HOTEL,
TOWANDA, PA.,
Having purchased this well known Hotel on
Brnlge Street, 1 have refurnished and refitted
i- with every convenience for the accommoda-i
>n ot ail who may patronize me. No pains will !
spared to make all pleasant and agreeable. I
May.!. tf. J. s. PATI'EHSON, Prop.
St"* 1 } I'kß HOUSE, :i four story brick j
V edifice near the depot,with large airy rooms, I
eo gant parlors, newly luruDhed. has a recess in '
•' addition for Ladies use, and is the most
II onv>nn nt and ODIJ- first class hoiel at Waverly. i
', l! H l -'- : prin ipal office tor stages south |
in express. Also tor sale ot Western Tickets, t
• " h'? o D f. ua ' °? *' rau 4 Trunk Rail-way. Fare
etroit from fiuffitlo, 14, is cheaper than any
route - Apply (or tickets as above to
, C. WARFORD.
, ' "I al| 4 care ot Horses at reasonable !
Waverly. N. V . 0ct.26, 1566.-3 m. C. W.
OF FRAY-'
Bool.s at the NEWSROOM.
liratlfuvii Hcpdcr
E- O. GOODRICH, Publisher.
VOLUME XXVII.
THE XIGIIT COMETH.
Amber and crimson and purple,
Silver and azure and gold,
Robes of glorious sunset
Sweeping in many a fold,
Out from the golden portals,
Aud leaving the twilight gray,
Gilding iu wondrous beauty
Down the bright track of the day.
Fades the last gleaming,
Now to thy dreaming—
The lone Night cometh.
There s gloom on the rippling waters,
Sparkling so late in the sun,
And mystic forms from the woodland
Seem gathering one by one-
Gloom on the rippling waters,
Low murmuring in their sleep,
V bile trom the dim old forest,
Come whispering wild and deep.
Wrapped in shadows,
O'er the meadows
The lone Night cometh.
Showers of silver spray are raining,
Downward from her half-closed eye,
And the breezes, low complaining,
Ever fitful, pass us by:—
And the woods and vales and mountains,
With their wealth of crystal gleams,
And the pale shapes of the shadows
Seem a wondrous land of dreams.
To the lowly,
Pure and holy,
The lone Night cometh.
Night, with gleaming, starry circlets,
Ne'er so glorious as now,
Binding back the midnight tresses
From her damp and pallid brow,
And sparkling, wide and broadcast,
She the dew of slumber flings
And nothing breaks the stiilffiss
But the rustle of her wings,
Calm and stilly
Sleeps the ljjy—
The long Night cometh.
God, and angels, too. are watching ;
Night is coming o'er the lea—
Bravely, gravely, to the contest;
Sleep soon calls for thee and me.
Then'.s the time for idle dreaming—
Toil we till the setting sun,
Till life's battle shall be over,
And the victor's crown be won.
Onward ever.
Falter never—
The lone Night cometh.
S.nlr.
THE EES CUE.
BT MBS. EMELINE -. SMITH.
THE incident about to be related, is
one of many similar ones which oc
curred during the early settlement of
America. Those who sought a home
in the savage wilds, which then cov
ered the land, wedded themselves to
a life of peril and hardship. The dan
gers which continually threatened
them called forth all the heroic qual
ities of their nature, and their lives
were marked by many a lofty deed
of dat ing and devotion. Such deeds
should not sink iuto oblivion,for they
belong to the history of our country,
and as suco, should be recorded and
remembered.
We would present a picture to the
imagination of the reader. There is
a broad and beautiful stream, with
its deep, still waters, flowing on be
tween banks covered by luxuriant
foliage ; and its bright surface dot
ted here and there with fairy little
isles, where graceful shrubs and lra
grant flowers bud and blossom undis
turbed in wild and lonely loveliness.
Bright-plumed birds, of many varie
ties, are winging their way over the
quiet water, and the surrounding
scene echoes with their tuneful min
istrelsy. On the borders of the river,
at the edge of a forest that stretches
far away over hill and dale, stands
the rude but picturesque dwelling of
backwoodsman ; with the blue smoke
curling up from its luwly roof, and
its humble walls glancing out from
the green foliage that surrounds
them. There are some indications of
taste and refinement near the wood
man's home, which give a cheerful
appearance to that otherwise wild
and lonely scene. A graceful vine
curtains the lowly window, and many
bright flowers, natives of a distant
soil, shed tie ir grateful perfume
around. Near the door hangs a cage,
containing a rare and beautiful bird,
whose song of gladness breaks sweet
ly upon the stillness of that solitary
place.
On a low seat at the entrance of
the dwelliug, is seen a young woman,
caressing an infant. She has lost the
blooming loveliness ot youth—her
cheek is pale, and Iter brow wears
that thoughtful expression which is
imprinted by the touch of care ; yet
she is still beautiful iu form and fea
ture, and none may look upon her
without admiration. As she bends
over the child in her arms, her eye
fills with that unutterable tenderness
aud love which are only seen in the
eye of a mother, and which make the
face of a beautitui woman almost au
gelic. Now and then she turns from
the child, to send an anxious glauce
towards the forest, as if she watched
for the approach of some one from
that direction. She is momentarily
expecting her husband. He left his
home at morn ; the hour appointed
for his return had pessed away ; the
shadows of the trees are lengthening
iu the rays of the setting sun,aud yet
he comes not. The fond wife begins
to tremble for his safety—a fearful
foreboding of evil steals over her
mind, and the dark dread of some ap
proaching calamity haunts her imag
ination.
She has reason to fear ; for that
portion of country was, at this time,
the theatre of many a tragic scene.
Sometimes the woodman iu penetrat
ing too far into the pathless recesses
of the forest, lost his way, and wau
dering for days in the dreary wilder
ness, suffering many miseries, and i
perishing at last by the paDgs of hun
ger. Sometimes the wily red man,
who yet lurked about those lonely
wilds, entrapped the white hunter,
and, from a spirit of revenge, or the
thirst for blood, sacrificed his victim
with the most wanton and barbarous
cruelty.
As the anxious wife thought of
these things, her fears and forebod
ing became almost insupportable.—
Hushing the infant to sleep, she car
ried it into the dwelling, and deposit
ed it in his cradle bed. She then
hastened forth again, and wandered
along the path that led to the forest,
anxiously looking forward the while
for her husband. She walked onward
for some time, fondly hoping to see
the object of her search,but her hopes
were vain, and sending one more
searching glance around, and seeing
nothing but the gloomy shadows of
trees, she turned with a heavy heart
to retrace her steps. As she was
proceeding homeward, a sudden fear
for her child, whom she had left alone,
crossed her mind, and caused her to
hasten forward. Drawing nearer to
the dwelling, this fear became so in
tense, that it amounted almost to a
conviction of some terrible calami
ty. Flying, rather than walking, she
searched the house, and sprang to
the cradle—it was empty, and the
child nowhere to be seen ! With
frantic eagerness she rushed to the
back door of the dwelling, which she
had left closed, and which she now
tound was open. She was just in
time to see a party of Indians mak
ing rapidly to the woods. Her heart
whispered the fearful assurance that
they bore away its treasure. Here
was a trying situation for a timid
and helpless woman—her husband
afar off—perhaps in peril—her child
—her first born, and only one, torn
away by the rude hand of a savage
—dread night approachiug, and 110
earthly arm to aid !
Without pausing foi reflection, the
mother flew along the path which the
Indians had taken. Now and then
she caught a glimpse of their forms
as they moved rapidly through the
trees, but as the twilight deepened
and surrounding objects became more
indistinct, even that slight comfort
was denied her, and she traced her
gloomy pathway without knowing
whether or not it would bring her
nearer the object of her pursuit. Yet
she paused not a moment in indecis
ion, but hastened onward through
the increasing darkness, unconscious
of the uncertainty of her search, and
the wildness of her expedition. She
had but one thought—one hope ; and
that was.to be near her child—to
save it, if it could be saved, or perish
with it, if perish it must. Strong in
this determination, she pushed for
ward,thoughtless of fatigue, and fear
less of peril. As the night advanced,
the wind rose and sighed among the
trees with a mournful and heart-chill
ing sound. The stars, that had hith
erto shed a faint light through the
branches, were now veiled in black
clouds, that seemed to presage a
storm ; aud ever and inon the shrill
croaking of • a night-bird, or the pro
longed howl of some beast of prey,
was borne to the ear of the unhappy
wanderer, waking fearful thoughts,
and warning her of the dangers by
which she was surrounded.
Those who have never roamed in a
forest at midnight, can scarcely real
ize how much that is terrifying is
connected with such a journey. At
one time, the howl of the hungry
wolf will burst so sdddeuiy and clear
ly 011 the ear that we can scarcely
persuade ourselves the monster is
not close at our side—at another, the
falling of a decayed branch will pro
duce such a loud and fearful sound,
that we deem it the fatal plunge
which must doom us to destructiou.
Now the wind will come with a fitful
and moaning cadence, so like the hu
man voice, that we for an instant, be
lieve it the wail of an agonized being
and again it will sweep by with a
' rushing sound like a troop of enrag
!ed monsters bent on a mission of
death. Sometimes an unseen, low
drooping branch will softly touch the
shoulder, congealing the warm cur
rent of life with the idea that a spec
tral hand has suddenly arrested our
progress; and again a black a.d blast
ed tree, with one or two sere branch
es protruding from its side, will, for
an instant still the pulsatiou of the
heart, as we behold in it a frightful
phantom, stretching forth its arms to
grasp our shrinking forms.
All this, and more, must one feel
and fear in a lonely midnight pil
grimage through the forest; and all
this the mother endured as she pur
sued her almost hopeless enterprise.
She had traveled far, very far, for the
darkness of night, and the intricacies
of the wood, had scarcely lesseucd
the speed with which she commenc
ed her walk, and she had been many
hours on the way. Weariness was
beginning to overcome her—hope
was departing from her heart, and
despair chilling all her energies,when
she discovered afar off through the
trees, a light. It was but a feeble
glimmer, yet oh ! how it irradiated
the path of the waudorer. The in
stant she bebeld it, hope sprang back '
to her heart, and strength invigorat- j
ed her frame. That faint and far off \
ray seemed the light of returning j
happiness, and she watched it as ea- j
gerly as the mariner watches the star 1
which guides him over ocean's stormy j
waves. She now hastened onward
with redoubled energy, aud though j
her steps sometimes faltered, and her j
heart sunk withiu her, as the light j
disappeared behind some intervening i
object, she still kept her eye steadily
in the direction of the beacou, and
saon gained a position where it shone
brightly before her, and she could
approach without losing sight of it
again. As .-he drew near, she gazed
upon the scene which that light re
vealed, with mingled feelings of as
tonishment, hope and fear.
REGARDLES3 OF DENUNCIATION FROM ANY QUARTER.
TOWANDA, BRADFORD COUNTY, PA., FEBRUARY 28,1867.
There was a large fire built of the
dried brauches of trees, aud around
it lay the dusky forms of five or six
ludiaus, reposing npou the ground.
Their appearance was savage in the
extreme ; each with his painted fea
tures lighted by the fitful glare of the
fire, and his tomahawk aud scalping
knife gleaming at his side. Near
them were implements of hunting,
and around the fire lay scattered
bones and fragments ola recent rude
and hasty repast. The whole scene
was calculated to strike terror iu
to the heart of the delicate being
who gazed upon it.
But she scarcely saw the rude sav
ages or their implemets of death, for
her whole soul was absorbed in con
templating a portion of the scene
which we have not yet described,and
which riveted her attention with a
thrilling and magic power. Bound
to a true, was the form of her hus
band ; and at his feet on the cold
ground, lay her child. The father's
face was pale,and stained with blood;
the infant's face was covered by its
dress, and its form was motionless as
if chilled by the cold ha id of death.
How felt the fond wife and mother
wheu that sight of horror met her
eyes ? Repressing by a mighty ef
fort the Bhriek of agony that rose to
her lips and conquering, by the
strength of a heroic soul, the almost
irrcsistable desire she felt to rush
forward, and clasp those dear ones
to her aching heart, she stood gazing
upon the scene with feelings that
cannot be described. .She saw with
a throb of sudden joy, that her hus
band lived, but her heart grew cold
again as she watched the motionless
form of her child. She longed to fly
to its side, and ascertain the truth,
for the suspense that preyed upon
her spirits was terrible,but again her
resolute mind restrained her, and she
began to deliberate upon the situa
tion of her husband,and devise means
for releasing him.
The vived light cast by the fire on
all things near it, enabled the wife to
note the scene distinctly. She saw,
with a thankful heart, that the sava
ges all slept, and that she cou'd
reach the side of her husband with
out passing near enough to awake
them ; but she saw that he was
bound by strong cords, which she
could not hope, iu her wearied state
to unfasten, and she looked about
for something to sever them. There
was nothing, save the knives which
the Indians wore at their sides. Look
ing more intently, she saw that one
ol these had slipped from its place,
and lay on the ground by its owner,
so near, that his hand almost touched
the hilt. A pang of intense fear
shot through her frame, when she |
thought of approaching so close to i
the terrific form of the savage, but 1
another look upon the pale face of!
the prisouer, reassured her, and she j
determined to rescue him or perish iu '
the attempt. She could not approach 1
the Indians without revealing herself 1
to the eyes of her husband, and she j
feared, in that case, an exclamation
of surprise would follow Iter appear
ance, and rouse the foe from their
slumber. After pondering a moment
upon the best mode of proceeding,she
determined to steal softly to the back
of the tree, place her hand upon the
lip of the captive, whisper a few
words of explanation, and implore
him, not by the sligbest murmur, to
frustrate her plans. With a throb
bing heart, she commenced her peril
ous undertaking. Noiselessly she
made her way to the tree, aud accom
plished her purpose. There was no
time for delay, yet one instant the
mother turned to look upon her child,
yearning to clasp it to her bosom,but
not daring to lift the cloth which con
cealed its features, aud assure herself
whether or not it lived. A little while
before, she would have given worlds
to be able to do this, but uow she
felt that to behold it wrapped in the
slumber of death would unnerve her
arm, aud render her unfit for the fur
ther prosecution of her trying task.
With a firmness that would. have
done honor to a stoic, she conquered
the promptings of natural love, and
hastened away. With a step as noise
less as the falling dew, she glided
towards the slumbering savages ; as
she drew near, her frame trembled
so violently, she could scarcely sup
port herself; and when she put forth
her hand to take the knife, the beat
ing of her heart was so audible, she
feared it would awake the sleepers,
and she pressed her hand convulsive
ly upon it to still its tumultous throb
biugs. One terrible instant she
thought the eyes of the Indian open
ed, glared upon her with a fierce aud
malignant expression ; but this was
mere fancy for he still slept, and the
next moment she was gliding away
with the knife firmly grasped in her
hand. With a few rapid strokes she
liberated her husband, and then bent
down aud uncovered the child. To
her unspeakable joy, she found it iu
a slumber as sweet aud peaceful as
though it had been hushed to rest up
on its mother's bosom. With a pray
er of gratitude upon her lips, she lift
ed it lrom its restiug place, turned to
her companion,and motioned the way
to their home. With rapid aud noise
less steps they hurried away, speed
ing ouward with tremulous yet hope
ful hearts. Not a moment did the
fond mother spare to caress her in
fant—not a word did she utter to
greet her husband. The spell of a
new found, uncertain happiness had
settled upon her spirit, and she fear
ed to break its thrilling charm. For
a time they traveled thus iu silence
and darkness; moving as near as
they could judge, in the direction of
their home, and anxious to be farther,
still farther away from their enemies.
At length weariness compelled them
to rest awhile, and, as the dawning
day began to shed a trembling light
abroad, they crept into a thicket and
sought repose.
The beams of the rising sun light-
Ed the wanderers on their homeward
pathway ; and wheu that sun was
sinking to repose, its parting rays
fell caraly over the woodman's hum
ble home, revealing a scene of bliss
such as seldom visits the abode of
man. How radiant with grateful joy
was the face of the fond mother, as
she clasped her recovered treasure
closer to her bosom ; how full of ad
miration was the eye of the rescued
husband as it rested upon its fair
preserver ; and oh ! how warm and
fervent was the prayer, breathed in
that hour of safety bearing up to
Heaven the devotion of thankful and
happy hearts.
ffllitai.
REMARKS OK
HON. GEORGE LANDON,
SENATOR FROM BRADFORD COUNTY,
lii the Senate, ou Tuesday, January 29. 1867
ou the bill entitled Joint resolutions of
the Legislature of Pennsylvania, protest
ing against the confirmation of Edgar
Cowan as Minister to Austria.
Mr. LANDON. Mr. Speaker,l have
observed that one of the gentlemen
who has spokeu has apologized for
so doing. 1 shall make no apology.
Ido not rise to make a speech. I
am sent here by men who have their
political faith, their moral sentiments
their patriotic . convictions. I am
i charged with t e duty and the re
sponsibility, so far as 1 am able, to
represent, maintain and defend their
ideas, their views, their feelings, and
their convictions. It is my right to
' do it and my duty ; I would be recre
j ant if I failed to do it. I do not dis
! like these discussions at all, sir ; I
j consider them really the most import
ant of our Senatorial proceedings.—
Not that the Senate chamber is to be
i a political atena of party contest ;
i not that we are to turn it into a town
j meeting ; but in this chamber the
, three millions of Pennsylvauiaus are
| concentrated, sublimated, politically
; boiled down ; and here, in this small,
arena, we discuss and give life to
those principles that permeate the
whole body of the people. We speak
here, and the people hear ; we make
declarations here, and those declara
tions are afterwards weighed by the
public ; principle comes iuto contact
with principle, aud the people can
determine where the truth is ; aud I
say of such discussions let them go
on. As Jefferson said, " The truth
has nothing to fear from error while
the field is left free." When the Re
publican party .on this side of the
Senate chamber, when the Republi
can party in Congress, when the Re
publican party in the wide country,
cannot maintain itself by fair argu
ments, then let it go down.
Mr. Speaker, 1 hive listened with
great interest to the remarks on the
other side of the chamber, but my in
terest has been mingled with amuse
ment. 1 always listen to the Senator
from Clearfield [Mr. WALLACE] with
interest. lam always sure to seat
myself where I can hear when he
speaks. I admire his intellect, but
not his party ideas ; I admire his
boldness, bis resoluteness, but 1 am
sorry he is not on the side of the
country. The most lamenting thing
is to see high talents debased by con
secrating them to vile purposes.—
When he took his stand thisevening,
I expected something rich, expansive,
something that should partake of the
character ol the avalanche ; but we
liave found, Mr. Speaker, that that
side of the House may do the best it
cau, it may put forth its Hercules, if
it has any, it may marshal all its tal
euts, but so miserable, so degraded,
smitten with political leanness is
their whole theory, and so damned is
their whole policy, that when they
have put forth their bravest efforts,
the result only reminds us of the old
adage, *' The mountain labored and
brought forth a mouse." Whenever
they eulogise modern Democracy,
their mental sunbeams fall upon a
dunghill.
I want to follow that Senator a
moment in his argument. He says
to you, to me, and to every Republi
can in the country, " When you took
the Government all was quiet, but in
less than one year there came blood
and war and trouble we admit it
sir. Who brought the blood ? who
brought the war ? who brought the
debt ? who grasped the pillars of the
country, sir, like old, blind Sampson,
aud shook the whole fabric of the na
tion ! \\ as it the Republican party?
Was it Abraham Lincoln, who was
elected ? Does not the world know
better ? Does not the world know
that the Republican party,every lead
ing man in it, absolutely humiliated
themselves by going down into the
dust before tbe South and praying
them to stay their vile, ambitiotfs
proceedings ? We brought tbe blood
sir? No. sir, the world knows who
brought it. The Senator tells us
that when we took the helm and
placed our banner on the outer wall,
all was peace. Does not the Sena
tor know that the camp tires of war
were kind!, d long before Abraham
Lincoln was elected ? What did the
Democratic party go to Charleston
and divide itself for ? To inaugurate
civil war. Why did they applaud iu
the streets of Charleston when Lin
coln was elected ? Because they
wauted a pretext for war, and his
election was that pretext.
The Senator says, in the next place,
" Where is your policy ? We have
our trouble—we have our millions of
debt. Now, where is your policy to
rescue your country?" 1 say to those
gentlemen and to the world, we have
a policy—a policy well defined, well
determined, square and angular. The
first idea of our' policy is this : that
the loyal men of' the country, the
meu who stood by the stars aud
stripes, shall maintain the govern
ment, while rebels shall take back
seats ; that is the llrst principle in
our policy ; and we learned it from
that Democrat whom the Senator
from Clearfield has eulogized—An
drew Johnson !
We have learned many things from
him, but one thing especially have
we learned, and that is, never again
to trust a Southern Democrat while
the heavens stand. The first item of
our policy is, sir, that rebels must
take back seats ; that they must not
be masters of this country ; that,
having sought to destroy the country
and overwhelm the Government, they
must not, aud shall not, come in now
and be the lords of the Government.
That is one idea. Another idea is
this : that we intend to be true to
the Declaration of Independence, and
make liberty a reality ; that the map
of liberty shall be as wide as the
travelings of humanity in this coun
try ; that where man goes, he shall
go enwrapt in the Declaration of In
dependence, and the stars and stripes
shall float over him and protect him
in the rights that the great God has
thrown around humanity. We do
not stop to inquire whether a man is
red, or black, or white. If we find
him with the mind of a man, if we
find him with the impulses of a man,
with ability to grasp the present and
anticipate the future, we say to that
man, Liberty is your birth-right, and
you shall have it. The principle of
Republican Government is this :
Every man who supports the Govern
ment and pays taxes, and is required
to do military duty, that man has a
right to a voice iu the Government.
I know not, sir, how you can get
around it. YY hat else is Democratic
Government ? What else is Repub
licanism ? If you require him to up
hold and obey the Government, you
shall give him a voice where only his
power is felt, at the ballot-box. where
the man deposits his ballot, that ex
presses the freeman's will, as light
nings do the will of God. Some of
my Republican friends may not go
quite so far as ttiat. I propose,
though, that every man shall have a
i voice in the Government, and I am
not alone in this position. Well did
our lately elected Senator express
himself, in his noble avowal of prin
ciples, when he declared : " 1 shall
lie glad to see the day when the
word " white " is stricken from the
Constitution of Pennsylvania." This
may be in advauce of slow, timid
men ; so was his recommendation, in
1861, to free and arm the slaves ; but
he was right then, aud is right now.
Another principle of our policy is,
that the National debt must be paid;
but not one jot or tittle of the debt
contracted in trying to destroy the
Government. Put these things to
gether, and you have the outliued of
our policy, broad as the continent,
comprehensive as the merits and de
merits, the rights and obligations of
men. Traitors bltall give place to
loyal men ; liberty shall be made a
living, shining re tlity ; our financial
obligations shall be fully met; but
rebel bonds, with rebel bayonets,
must and shall lie in the dust. No
policy, indeed ! Can the Senator,
with all his party aids, give the coun
try a better one ?
Mr. Speaker, iu 1861, and from that
up to 18=6.7, the great question in this
country was this : The Southern
half of the country, having slid off
into aud quite a large pro
portion of the Northern half of the
Democratic party being in sympathy
with them, the question was this :
Cau the friends of the country save
the country and maintain and carry
it through, with the Southern half
making war upon the Government,
and a large proportion of their north
ern sympathizers doing the same
thing ? That was the question. We
went through it, but hundreds of
thousands of our fellow men were
sacrificed. True, sir, it bathed the
valleys iu blood, and covered the
hill-tops with tombstones, and made
the hearts of fathers and mothers
break with sorrow and agony. But
we went through it. Now, the ques
tion is changed ; the rebels, having
been defeated, want to take posses
sion of the Government by political
legerdemain. Now, the question is,
whether we, the friends of the Gov
ernment, with the debauched politi
cal ideas of men on the other side,
can like the Governmeut through
successfully. I heard one of them
say—and it puzzles me to understand
these characters—l shook hands with
one of them forty-eight hours ago,
aud he said that if Virginia wished
to puy her rebel debt, it was not our
business.
That was the question : Whether
we could carry the Government
through, with the Northern Demo
crats in sympathy with the rebels,
and abetting and defending them,
and the Government debauched ; and
for aught I know, the Supreme Court
also. This great question was upon
us, while all the trouble came from
this Democratic party. 1 use plain
terms, and I tell you plainly, to-day,
from the depths of my heart, that
from 1860 to 1860 the war and trouble
in the country was due to you. When
you nominated your candidate for the
Presidency, the South, cheered your
nominee ; when victory turned on
their side, you whimpered, " I told
you so ; damn this abolition war."—
Hut when victory turned on our side,
and the boys in blue were triumphant,
how was it with you then ? There
were no shouts—there were a few,
but they were very feeble. Your
sympathy with the rebels encouraged
them. lam sorry, but it is so.
My Democratic friends, 1 tell you
you have given the weight of your
talent, the weight of your position,
against your country. You may
have sinned ignorantly, but in this
day of political light, there was 110
excuse for your ignorance. You were
not born fools, aud it is a pity for
men to make themselves less than
God Almighty made them. Mr.Speak
er, they have been prophesying these
years past, and they continue their
SjfrSi per Annum, in Advance.
predictions. If you look back, you
will see a liue of prophecy from 1860;
and in every single case their pro
phecies have failed. You remember
they said the war would bo a failure;
the Republican party is going under;
they are almost used up ; they are
on their last legs. But does it look
as if the Republican party was de
clining, when, last fall, they rolled
up a majority, from Maine to Missou
ri, of four hundred thousanjptrong,
and that on this very issue that we
are discussing here to day ? My
Democratic brethren, the moral con
victions of the world are against
you ; almost every pulpit in the land
is against you. Daniel Webster once
well said that no party could main
tain itself against the moral convic
tions of a Christian land, i'oor
souls ; were you to die as a party,
there is not a decent clergyman in
the land who would read the burial
service for you. Every intelligent
man who preaches the truth, or who
can analyze a single proverb in the
Book of Divine Wisdom, has lifted
up his voice on the side of liberty,
and prayed for the overthrow of its
enemies. Gentlemen, your prophe
cies are all vain ; the Republican
party will not die ; it has within it
elements of progress and morality ;
it is based on right, for it has aimed
at the right. It embraces the intel
ligence and the morality of the land.
I would say, in order to save your
selves with them ; they will take you
on trial, though your probation must
be protracted by reason of your past
misconduct.
I now come to the question that
we are discussing, that is the resolu
tion condemning Edgar Cowan.
There are two lines of policy in
this country, and this resolution will
be voted for or against, just as those
who vote upon it hold to the one or
the other line of view.
The one policy embraces these
ideas : First, the rebel States have
not in the least affected their rela
tions to the General Government by
their rebellion. Second, they are all
sovereign States ; they were sover
eign States when they seeeeded ;
they were sovereign States during
the war ; they are sovereign States
to-day. Third, they are entitled to
full and immediate representation.
The very moment we wrested the
bayonet and sword from their grasp,
that very moment they became rein
vested with all their civil rights, and
if they are denied representation, it
is wrong, an outrage and a usurpa
tion. They should come in at once,
and participate in the government of
the country, in making laws for the
country, and that the past should be
forgiven and forgotten. Those are
the items of "my policy."
The ideas connected with the other
policy are these, that the rebel States
did affect their connection with the
General Government by their rebel
lion ; that, by secession and open
war, they became divested of their
constitutional and legal authority,
avowed public enemies, and have no
right to participate in the legislative
affairs of the country until we, the
masters of the situation, are ready to
permit them. In this other policy,
the idea is that they are not sover
eign States, that they lost their sov
ereignty by their treason. Another
idea is that treason is a crime, and
ought to be punished ; and that they
cannot be represented until the basis
of representation is changed, so that
they may be admitted with safety.—
Mr. Johnson is the advocate of one
policy, the advocate of the sovereign
ty of the lately rebellious States, the
advocate of their right to representa
tion, and of their equality with all
the other States, while the loyal peo
ple represented in Congress" hold to
the opposite ideas. Mr. Cowan has
been the lickspittle of Mr. Johnson
—a mere tool of his, to play his sec
ond hand fiddle. I voted for him in
1801 ; therefore 1 have a full right
to speak. But I did not vote for his
nomination. I wanted another and
better man. Edgar Cowan has be
lied everything 1 ever heard of him
before I voted for him ; he has belied
every representation his frieuds made
to me ; if he had any noble impulses
before 1 voted for him, he has belied
them since. He is not the man 1
voted lor. In regard to President
Johnson, I may say this : he is a re
markable character. Not remarka
ble for talent—lie is notalllicted with
that. He is not remarkable for
statesmanship, for that embraces the
idea ol sagacity and comprehension.
He is not remarkable for patriotism,
for that signifies love of country, and
those principles which make a coun
try great and happy. President
Johnson is most remarkable for au
dacity ; he is the most audacious
character in the land. He is remark
able for impudence. From head to
heel, he is a compound <>f impudence
and audacity. Look at his St. Louis
speech, where, in speaking of Re
publicans to Democrats, lie said :
" If you will stand by me, I will kick
them out as fast 1 can." lie is char
acterized also by persistency. If he
cannot rule, he will ruin. Hence, his
organ came out, the other day, say
ing that the President would main
tain his rule for the next two years,
until his time was out, and, if it was
necessary to carry out his purpose,
he would use the strong arm of mili
tary power. Mr. Johnson has struck
out his policy ; he has betrayed those
who put him in power, aud allied
himself with Southern rebels. Edgar
Cowan has given him all the support
he could, aud the question comes up:
Shall the Senate of the United States
confirm his nomination, which is the
reward for his services ?
I have two objections to the con
firmation of Ed,'ar Cowan's appoint
ment. It would be an insult to the
loyal majority of Pennsylvanians for
him to be confirmed by a Republican
(Senate. Again, when our Govern
ment sends a representative abroad,
it is supposed to select a man who is
an exponent of the dominant and
ruling principles at home. I ask if
Cowan is a fit exponent of the domi
nant principles of Pennsylvania and
the Northern States ? No, sir Then
why should we send him abroad ? If
the Senate should confirm his nomi
nation, they could be virtually iu co
alesence with President Johnson.—
Are they prepared for that ? I trust
not. Hence, the propriety of saying
to the United States Senate : "Gen
tlemen, by our regard for our coun
try, our respect for ourselve, our con
sideration of the past, and our hopes
for the future, we pray you, do not
confirm Edgar Cowan."
NUMBER 39.
For The Rkpobtep.
SCHOOL VISITATION
Directors are required by law to
"visit the schools once a month" and
"record the results" for future ref
erence, and to guide the action of the
board. It is a fact that comparative
ly few of our schools receive that
systematic visitation which the law
contemplates. Our late State Super
intendent says truly that "no duty
of the Director can be more benefi
cial to the schools than the one here
enjoined if well and faithfully done."
It is, however, seldom " well done,"
and frequently not done at all. Di
rectors excuse themselves with the
remark that they get no pay for their
time, and cannot afford it. But the
law provides that the Secretar> may
alo this duty for them, and be paid
therefor, so that even this excuse
falls to the ground. Our schools can
never be what they ought to be so
long as the majority manifest so lit
tle interest in them. There should
be a stronger sympathy between pa
trons and teacher—a feeling that
their interests are common interests.
Frequent visitation of the schools by
parents and Directors would prove
of incalculable advantage to all con
cerned. If Directors faithfully per
form this duty they will be prepared
to perform the other duties of their
office far §more intelligently. They
are the legal employers of teachers.
How else, than by inspecting the
work, can they know that those they
employ are faithful t<s their trust?
How else can they compare one school
with an other, and judge of the rela
tive worth of teachers—their ability
to govern—their aptness to teach ? *
How else can they become acquaint
ed with the condition and necessities
of ea :h school so as to put the right
teacher in the right place ? Most of
the mistakes and failures in our
schools might be avoided if Directors
would visit them,and thus learn their
wants and peculiarities.
Visitation is also a benefit to the
scholars. It awakens a desire for
the approbation of others, thus prov
ing a check upon the wayward, and
stimulating the tardy to increased ef
fort. This desire for the good opin
ion of superiors is a part of every
child's nature, and the skillful teach
er knows full well the value of fre
quent appeals to it. Let scholars see
both Directors and parents interested
in their progress—ready to approve
every effort in the right direction,and
they have a powerful motive to dil
bgeuce and good behavior. And
what an incentive to faithfulness aud
self-denial has that teacher whose
patrons thus show their desire for his
success. The teacher needs such an
incentive. If for three long months
no one visits the schools, or inquires
after it, what inference can the teach
er draw but that nobody cares ? Aud
if no one else cares, why should he f
For twenty years past I have been
connected with schools as scholar,
scc., yet 1 cannot recall a single visit
during that time by a clergyman. In
looking over Reports in my district I
find but one such recorded during the
last six years. Do not these facts
show " lost opportunities'' fordoing
good ? Whei* there is a proper solic
itude for the education of the young,
it will manifest itself in some way.—
Where schools are not visited educa
tional interests are at low tide.
Jan. 1861. ALPHA BETA.
FRIENDSHIP OF WOMAN. —Nothing
could be more severe than this pic
ture of friendship, written by Lady
Clara Cavendish :
Men—that is, men who are worth
anything—are capable of a good
deal of solid friendship for each oth
er, at all events they -are governed
by a certain principle of honor, and
you will hardly ever hear one of the
sterner sex entertaining a parlor full
of guests with the foibles and fail
ings of bis most intimate friend, or
with sarcastic remarks on his person
al appearance. We wish we could
say the same of our own sex, but
alas, we cannot. Sometimes we
doubt the existence of friendship in
feminine bosoms altogether, and won
der at the revelations which women
make of their own meanness to each
other.
When Augusta and Amelia seek
each other's society constantly, twine
their arms around each other's waists
kiss at parting, and exchange the
most affectionate little billets, the
supposition is that they are friends ;
but ten to one, if you meet Augusta
by herself, to your surprise, you
learn that her opinion of Amelia is
by no means a high one. She wond
ers what you can see in her to ad
mire, assures you that she is very
vain, and entertains you with an ac
count of certain mysteries in her toi
let, which you musn't mention to any
one, but really, the idea of those
curls being lier own, and that color.
There is something horrible in treach
ery. Why need womeu be false to
each other ? They are constant, as
a general tiling to those of the other
sex.
IF a potato hole is as long as it is
wide, and wide again as it long, how many
potatoes will it hold, provided half of them
he rotten.