A. J. GERRITSON, Publishett BUSINESS CARDS. DRi E. P. HINES, HAS permanently located et Priendsei ile fa t the pnr peen of practicing medicine and surgery in all its branches. He may be found at the Jackson House. Office bouts from 6 a; m., to 9 p. m. ;sulfa Priendtrillif, Pa., Jan. 15th, 1666. ' C. S. GILBERT, Lioosa.seti .ELu.citicoxieerr. iepT 6411 Great Bend, Pa. ROGERS do ELY, - .T.alcsesuscocl dekoraciticon.e. OTIS, raylo* Brooklyn, Pa. PETER HAY, r-sicteamstseci .A.s.aonticommeor, MI SRI inborn 4 Corners, Pa. M. C. SUTTON, MBJae:aspect .9.lLicxtic,xLe,e•ar, •p 7 F nendsville, Pa. ST. CHARLES HOTEL, CEMITON, Lozerne co.. Polo's—PENN AVENII e i¢:6 63 J. W. BURGESS, Proprietor. C. 0. FORDHAM, 00? d 1 SHOE Dealer and Mannfactnrer Montrose, 1) Pa. Shop on Main street, one door below the Post Office. All kinds of work ..wk to order, and repairing done neatly. pint 65 STROUD & BROWN, 'VISE AND LIFE INSURANCE AGENTS. Omea over the Post 011:lee, Montrose, Pa. All business attended to promptly, on Lair terms. Van. 1,136(1. Stunts' STSOIID, - • ensniss L. linown„ LAMI3ERTON k MERRI3IAN, k TTORNETS AT LAW, No. 204 Market street. Wlltesharr•, Pa. Will practice in the eeeeral Courts of Luzcrne and Susquehanna Counties. C L. L•NDERT47I‘. E. L. itzacatt.e.a. Dec. 4,1885. Da. E. L. BLAKESLEE, IaIISSICIAN & SURGEON. has located at. Brooklyn, 811scea co., Pa. Will attend promptly to all =ills with which he may be favored. Office at L. M. Bald v [July 11—ly DR. E. L. GARDNER, PTSICIAN and SURGEON, Montrose, Pa. Offlc• over Webb Butteraeld'e Stare. Boards at Searles Hotel. my6s tt G. Z. DIMOCK, PPHYSICIAN and Surgeon, Montrose, Pa. Office ever the Post Waco. Boards at Searle's Hotel. H. BURRITT, D CALER in Staple and Fa n cy Dry GoodA., Crockery. Hardware, Iron, Stoves, Druga, Oils, and Paints. Boots and Shoes, Hats and Caps. Furs, Buffalo Robes, Groceries, Provisions, etc., :New Milford, Pa. WTI. 11. COOPER & CO., BkIIKERS, ISontrose, Pk. Successors to Post,Cooper 2 Co. Office, Latlarop's new building„ Turnpike-et. Bret. p lINTTDIGI COOPIC6 lIEMIT DRINK IR. McCOLLUM & SEARLE, aTTORNEYS and Commasl.leles at L. Ithntroas., P. Office In Lathrop's new building; over the Bank. . C. MCCOLLUM D. W. SMAILLM. A. 0. WARREN, TTORNEY AT LAW. Bounty, Back Pay,. Pension, and Exemption Claims attended to, !obi arOtrice first door below Boyd'', Store, Montrose, Pa DOCT. E. L. ILANDINCK, cortYslci AN I SURGEON, respectfully tenders his pr0fe..,011.11 services to the citizen of Friends val. and 01 - 010ce in the officeof Dr. Leet. fiouds at J. llosford's. jly3/1 CStf ABEL TURRELL, r% EA LE R in Drags, Medicine., Chemicals, Dye LPSinfrs, Glass Ware, Paints, Oils, Varnish, Win lnetilase Groceries, Fancy Goods, Jewelry Perin- t niery.,tc—Agent for all the most popular PATENT a - M6blClNES,—Montrose, Pa. DR. W.M. SMITH, t'RGEON DENTlST,—Montrose, In Lnthrops` new building. over ' he Bank. All Dental operations will be •$g etia performed In good style and warranted. JOHN GROVES, FASTIIOI.7ABLE TAILOR, Montrose, Pa. Shop r !me door west ofStarle's Hotel. tare!l orders filled promptly. in first-rate style. Coning dons on short notice, and warranted to Lit WM. W. SMITH, CA 131,113 T AND CHAIR MANUFACTITI=3,—Poro of Main street, Montrose, Pa. tf P. LINES, Fmsamirdsi3Lictelibil—Y Pa. Sho p in Piwenfi Sion, over atom of Bead, Waitrons a Pester. All work warranted as to At And finish. Cutting done on abort notice, in best style. jilted° JOHN SAD 11R, VIESPECTFULLY announces that be Is maw pre. pared to cut all kinds of Garments in the meet fashionable Style. and warranted to fit with elegance axe east Shop over I. N. Bullard's Store, Montrose. a co x Pt pllNsioNs i BouNipv , A ND LI ° BACK PAY• Tlnc undersigned. LICENSED AGENT of THE GO V. ERNEENT, will give prompt attention to all claims entrusted to hie care. Charges low, and Infor mation FREE. L. F. FITCH. Montrose, Jan. 14, 1465. tf - SOLDIERS' BOUNTY PENSION S, And Back Pay ! mum OnderegDed LICEBRED GINT 07 Tfl Z Gomm /. turprr, will give prompt attention to all claims intros. ted to his care. lqo charge ordeals eueeeserul. Xontrose,Ang. SD. '63. J. 13. Mc:COW:M. SOLDIERS' BOUNTY , PENSIONS, aria. 3130ic511.--3Pistzr. TAE endereined, LICENSED AGENT , of the GOV ERNMENT. haying -obtained the necesam7 forms, at . wlll give.prompt attention ,to all-cdaime intrusted to 6.4 care, Notlilret/24.,E=1sftt. LE. Itentrose, June 6th„ 1864. . . CALVIN C. HALSEY, [llllllll6 PoT Pensioner's, and Applicants for Pensions:- ' " 1211-021Pe Avesaii, OTliirtMatereAtliebi° ens & Sot. liclitri;m3, Pc. MAY r, 1111,4, if , The Voice in the Heart. Pierce Ridltmond took up a letter which had, just been brought in, and glanced at the superscription—" Hon. Pierce Rich mond !" He bad , seen h is name; thus written often enough before; but it sug gested, just uow, a curious continuation of the train of thotiew which bad been absorbing him. It was his pride to be a self made man, and be had been going, back, this morning, over a half century, and remembering his boyhood. The lit tle brown cottage, with the thickets of sweet bier round it freighting the sum mer air with fragrance, was a pretty spot when he lived there—the only son of his , mother, and she a widow. Ho could see it, looking back, as plainly as .if the fifty years were only a mist of morning rolling away from before the well known scene. How pale and quiet but tender and long uffering his mother was ! Ile felt again her fond kisses, and remembered how her lips used to tremble when she called him her fatherless boy. And again his veins seemed to thrill with the boyish pride of the old days when be sat beside her and told her that be would grow up stout and strong, able to do a man's work among men, and then she never should toil so wearily with bar needle any more. If she had but lived, and he bad had her to work for, perhaps it would have kept his heart fresh and unselfish. 'But he shivered again with a throb of the old agony, as he remembered how he had found her one morning with a smile fro zen on her still lips, a look of peace on her white face; and known that the lips would never w(leolne him any more, or the eyes rest on him with their sad tenderness— that his mother had gone from the land where she was a piigsim to the home eter nal in the heavens. flow he pitied himself, this morning of which I write, recalling that time, fifty years ago, when he was ohly twelve, and his mother had left him alone ! A shy, shrinking boy he was thin, despite his great faith in his own future—a a mother boy," as the phrase is in the country, and quaintly touching' it always seemed to me. He had been all his life under her gentle wing, and now he could Sod there no more shelter. Yet his lot was not intolerably hard. He was apprenticed, by the town authori ties, to a prosperous farme; and he bad a comfortable . home, no more work than was reasonable, and a little schooling in winter. But no one loved him—this boy who bad lived, hitherto, in an atmosphere of mother love—and so his proud, sensi tive heart grew cold and hard. He cared for no one but himself, and though he did his work faithfully, he endeared himself to none. He seemed to live in a world of his own, into which he was not disposed to open any doors. Strong purposes grew into his nature in his silent musings. He would make himself a name, a posi tion, a career: But all his plans ended, as they begun, with himself; and it is a sad thing when a human being has noone else to live for. ' When he was twenty one, with his '• freedom suit" on his back, be mashed away from Freyburg, and went out into the world, to begin the career which, through all those broodino• .years of his solitary boyhood, he bad been planning. I will not weary you with the processes by means of which he achieved success. Enough that, at, last he esteemed himself to have reached it. He, was a rich man, well known in financial circles; and storm in Congress had given him a right to the title of honor upon his letters. ‘• Pretty well," be said aloud, after all these memories bad passed like a long panorama before him—" pretty well for old Tim Scarborough's bound boy. I think I may call my life a success." And, if surroundings earthly and tem poral are the standard of measurement, you would not have pronounced him far wrong had you glanced about the apart ment, half study, half breakfast room, where he had just been taking his mor , ping meal. To be a gentleman had been ' one of his ambitions, and as soon as ho was able to live e'egantly he bad surroun ded himself with the appliances ofluz.nry. On the floor of this his favorite room, a soft, warm carpet- yielded like woodland moss to his foot fall. Handsomely bound books filled the carves 43a5E8 fromiloor to ceiling. Chairs uphoistered in Russia leather held out, capacious arms to him. His breakfast service was of silver and porcelain, and at the least touch of that bell besides him, itself a dainty toy, train. ed servants were ready to obey his be hests. These things to day—and, back fifty years, the little three roomed cottage; the mother pale and weary but tender; and himself barefooted, coarsely cla, but young and strong and eager, hopeful, and with all the future's possibilities before him. Was he richer now ? • A tap upon the door elicited a half tux gracious u come , h 2," for be was not yet ready to break tbe spell of his thoughts. Relied traced the career of that barefoot ed dreamer of fifty years ago to the pres ent stand point of the lion. Pierce Rich mond. lie wanted to • look onward a lit tle; and speculate whether . any more ground remained to be possessed. But when be saw the. Dew comer be roused bigiselfirousetrom beams, and be. MONTROSE, PA., TUESDAY, APRIL 24, 1866. came the alert, watchful man of business. It was ilia confidential agent, Solomon Osgood, who was chprged with superin tendiuglis real estate and collecting his rents. It was the first of the month now, and there were accounts to be rendered in. They seemed satisfactory for the most part; but at lastMr.Richtnond, said, in an inquiring tone,— • And the Widow Maffit ?" " Yes, I was going to speak about her. I hope you will be willing to wait a little for her tent. She has been in trouble." -" Hum I Yes ! So she was last month, and the mouth before, and the month be fore that," Mr. Richmond said, rather curtly. " Very true," the agent answered grave ly. " Last month her little Jack died, and the mouth before that he was very sick; and now the only one she has left seems trying to follow in his brother's footsteps. Sickness brings a deal of ex pense, and comes bard on poor folks." Mr. Richmond considered a little; then said, with quiettletermination,— " I don't want to be unfeeling, Osgood, so I'll not tell you to send her off now ; but I must say plainly that I don't want such tenants. Giving in charity is one thing, and renting houses is another. When I want to give I can give; but I want the interest on my investments, when it comes to a matter of business." " I'll be security for Mrs. Matt--you shan't lose by her," the agent remarked, in the tone of one wounded a little. His employer looked at him curiously. " You're a philanthropist, Mr. Osgood," be said, with a smile rather satirical, yet not altogether unkindly. "I don't care about your undertaking the burden of my bad debts. Seven children and a wife none too strong, are about as big a load as you can carry. Didn't I say you needn't send tho woman otr now? Let her stay on, through March, whether she pays or not; and see if you cant find me another tenant by the first of April." " Thank you, air, as to Mrs. Maffit's part of your remark," Mr. Osgood an swered. "As for that about me and mine, I think, Mr. Richmond, if you had the same burden to carry, you'd find it about the pleasantest, one you ever bent, under." There was an air of sincerity is his manner, a ileum of secret delight in his look. which lin9Rrod with the „Yoe- Pierce Richmond aftor his agent hodutio away. He wondered if there were, in deed, so much blessednessin family ties— if it were good for a man to have wife and wesna to look out for. And, so spec ulating, the bitterest memory in his whole life came hack to him:;—the one sole time since his mother's death when ho had loved some being beyond and apart from himself: It was a score of years ago, and, be was forty two then, and she—the one he loved just twenty. He met her in a lodging house, where he had a fashiona ble suite of first floor apartments, and where she, lodging in the attic, used now and then to meet, hint on the steps or in the hall, until he learned to think that day dark lit by no gleam of her dun gold hair. How well he remembered the face, sweet yet spirited- ,- -"the red young mouth, and the hair's young gold"—the dainty, little figure, the springing step, the musical, low tones ! How it was he hardly knew, but he, the cold, selfish,bar dened man of the world, felt welling up in his heart a fountain of sweet waters— , and then, when ho would have slaked at it his soul's thirst, bintutiful and deceitful as a mirage tt vanished, and his heart, lack ing its sweetness, turned to desert waste. For not all his gold beguiled the little girl he loved into wedding him. She looked into his face with her pure, honest eyes, this Julia Winsted, and told him some truths hard to hear. He was old for his forty two years, and 'she told him so; hard and cold, used to living for him self, selfish even in his wish to bind her youth to bis stern middle age. Receiving his proposal of marriage as an attempt to buy her freshness and beauty, with her I pitiless plainness of speech she made him feel it all. The next day she left the house, and since then he had never seen her. But he had never forgiven her. She stood in his memory as his enemy—his one enemy, for curiously enough he had made no oth er in the course of his long life. But tow ard her his resentment was keen alien the day when he had been so stung by her indignant refusal to give him her hand when, as she said, be must know in the very nature of things it was impossible for her to give him her heart. He re membered her pitilessly well. If he had been an artist be could have painted the dun gold of the long, fine hair, the violet eyes•which the curling-lashes shaded, the red lips with their haughty curve. He had never seen her since; but he laid on her memory the blame and burden aids solitary ran. But for her, be thought, he too might have been husband and fa. ther..—nonliving out' thus, unloved and mimed for, his lonely life. Unloved and =cared for ! Th e words struck bitterly on his ear, and he repeat ed them over and over to himself, think ing,the while thoughts new and strange. What bid be done-did he or sonteinvat, sihlaireseve at hie side ask the question —what bad, be done .ibit any one should 10 - Ye' him tisa he ever. APPPlgebly to make one human being happy ? Had there ever been day or hour in which self had not been the centre round which all bis aims revolved ? He pushed away his letter with the Honorable on the cover. He began to doubt whether, after all, hio life had been a success. What singly good deed had he to be reckoned up in the days when by his works he must bo justified or condemned ? And now he was an . old man—for the first time, he began to feel that—and it was . too late. Ali, it must have been a suggestion of the still, small voice that seemed to penetrate his heart. " Not too late,o, never too late to be gin to live for od and good !" But what could he do ? " Go and see the 'Widow Mae," the voice in his heart answered. "There would be a beginning. If you find her suffering you cau help ber." He was acting on new impulses, but the resolute strength which had helped him all through life hurried him on now; and in half an hour he was at the door of Mrs. .Maffit's fourth story room. An swering his knock, she did not know her visitor, and stood as if waiting to hear his errand. " I am your landlord," be said, in tones which no emotion seemed to make other than stern; and then she stood aside and asked him to walk in. He stepped into the bare, comfortless room. A fire dull for want. of fuel flick ered on the hearth, and before it, trying to warm his slender fingers, bent a boy of about twelve. Mr. Richmond's eyes, in their comprehensive gaze round, the deso late, barren room, rested on him, and re mained fixed. lie was a slight fragile boy, who might have passed for younger than his years, save for the expression of maturity on his thoughtful countenance But those violet eyes over.wbich the long lashes curled, the dun gold hair falling soft ly round the pensive face—whose were they ? lie had never seen such since the day be parted with her—his enemy. He turned at last and looked at the mother. She remained quietly. awaiting his pleas ure—a womatiof at least forty, worn by sorrow and touched by, time, yet with a cert.* prUud grace in her manner, as she stood in the same attitude in which she had stood twenty years before, on a day he could never forget. For this was his spew, I He , would not have known her, per naps, save for the Arnhietk hai 'In— l) ut now be saw all her old s ellin her changed features. Sbe was waiting to learn his pleasure—:What was his pleas ure ? Before today be could have an swered this quitition unhesitatingly; to humiliate her—to see her starve— to push her to the last extremity—to be revenged upon her by any and all means for the light esteem in which she bad held him ! Now—would any revenge of this kind satisfy him ? Vaguely as something heard afar off some words came back to him—he thought he had heard his mother read them in his boyhood,— " If thine enemy hunger feed him, if he thirst give him drink I" His heart throbbed strangely, but he kept all emotion out of his voice. " I bear your rent is not ready, Mrs. Maffii." "It is not. Frank Gas been ill so much and required so much of my attention, I hoped you would be willing to give me a little time. I think he will be better when spring opens." " But you ought not to have expected much leniency from me. You told me years ago that I was a stern hard man. You might have softened me 'if you had tried then. but I think time has been turning crib into stone." She recognised him now, and her lip curled with a touch of the old scorn. To him of all men she would not sue for grace. "I was true to myself then," she said, quietly. "I am not sorry, even now." His enemy still, he thought—his star ving enemy. Should he offer her bread or a stone ? I have said that new impul ses were guiding him, and with him im pubes were all powerful. He went, to the golden haired boy on the hearth. " Would you like to live with me ?" he asked him. "The fires are bright in my house, and the carpets warm and soft. There are pictures on the walls, and books without end in the cases." At the sound of books and pictures the boy's eyes brightened; but he answered with a sturdy resolution which reminded Pierce Richmond again of her whom be called his enemy. "I should like the fires and the carpets; and the books and the pictures better yet. But I'll not leave my mother." " Will your mother come ?" Mr. Rich mond turned and looked into the worn face, flushing a little with indignation at his words.. "I do not mean to ask any thing you could not rant," he hastened to say, in tones (inquiet reassurance. "I am sixty two,lind alone in the world. Wife I shall never have; and I need a housekeeper -- a woman iithful enough to look out for my interests, and kind en ough to nurse me patiently through my, old age. II y ou will come to my home, and keep my hone% it, Shall be your honie and your boy's home while I live, and at my death you shall , be .ensured. against want." the widow Lnited n .pooainnt into Lin, eyes, and then gave him both her hands . in a passion of eager gratitude. " I deserve nothing of you," she said, " and you have saved me from despair." But I think as time went on, and the elegant abode where Pierce Richmond had passed so many solitary years took on new aspects of ease and grace under a woman's finger; as little Frank met him whenever he came in with loving-eager ness; and be began to understand some thing of the difference between a house and a home, he never repented that, he, had shown mercy to his enemy. illesniSW43fo 03,ki4 RE ADDRESSES THE SOLDIERS AND SAILORS. PROCESSION OE SOLDIERS AND SALLOW. WASHINGTON, April 18.--At six o'clock this evening a procession of soldiers and sailors, and such of their friends as sym pathize with them in their grateful ac knowledgments to the President for his order lately issued, directing Heads of Departments to give preference in ap pointments and promotions to the subor dinate offices to persons who have ren dered honorable service• in the army and navy, was formed and marched to the Ex ecutive Mansion with the Marine Band, to serenade President Johnson, who had signified to the committee that he would accept the compliment. ADDRESS TO THE PRESIDENT. A very large number of persons of both sexes were previously on the ground awaiting the demonstration. At 5-15 the band played several patriotic airs, when the President made his appearance, and was greeted with applause by the assem bled thousands. He took a stand in the coping of the wall, near the carriage-way, on the north side of the White House, when he was addressed on behalf of the soldiers and sailors by one of their num ber in highly complimentary terms, say ing, in conclusion, "in return for your kindness we can but offer our sympathies and prayers, and trust that an all-wise Providence who has brought us through a baptism of blood, and to whom we con secrate It arum tirr_ famrs al..Wiry =CI a 7 a na tion's tears, will so guide and direct you that you may calm the troubled waters, harmonize public opinion, and restore our whole country once more to peace and prosperity." THE PRESIDENT'S SPEECU. President Johnson said :—lt is not af fectation in me to say that language is inadequate to convey the heartfelt feel ings produced on this occasion by your presence here, and by the presentation o your septiments, as expressed by your" l representative in his address, and in the resolutions which you have thought prop er to adopt. I confess that. in the pecul iar posture ofyublic affairs, your presence and address give encouragement and con fidence to me in my efforts to discharge the duties incumbent upon me as Chief Magistrate of the Republic; and in what I have to say I shall address you in the character of citizens, sailors and soldiers. I shall speak to you on those terms, and on none other. THANKS I repeat my thanks for the manifesta tion of your approbation and of your en couragement. (Applause.) We are to day involved in one of the most crisical and trying struggles that have ever oc curred since this Government was spoken into existence. Nations, like individuals, must have a beginning—must have a birth. In struggling into existence a na tion passes through its first trying ordeal. It is not necessary for me now to early your minds back to the struggle when this nation was born. It is not necessary for me to allude to the privations and hardships of those wbo were engaged in that struggle to achieve the national birth. It is not necessary to point to the bloodshed and the lives lost accomplish ing that result. OUR NATION'S STRILNIGTR. The next ordeal through which a na tion has to pass is when it is called upon to give evidence that it has strength, ca pacity and power to maintain itself among the- nations of the earth; in giving such evidence we passed through the war of 1812, and through the war with Mexico ; and we passed through all the struggles that have since occurred up to the begin ning of the Rebellion. This was our sec ond ordeal. But a nation has another test 'still to undergo, and that is to give evidence to the nations of the earth, and to its own 'citizens, that it has powerto resist internal fcies, that - it has strength enough to put down treachery at home, and treason within its own borders.— (Cheers.) raEsinsor's Potornos. We have commenced that corldqakand I trust hi , God we will pies through it succeasfally. (Ch‘eks.) 1 feel 0 65=. montedili , y the Onsien of your rcpressik. towe l psi au? aotlliott mthe, I VOLUME XXIII, NUMBER -F ate in 1860 and 1861, when the nation was• entering on this third ordeal s and raised my voice and hand against treason, treachery and traitors at borne. (Cheerio.). I stand here to day holding to and main taining the same principles which I then enunciated. I stand here to day opposing traitors and treason, whethertbey be in the South or in the North. (Loalicheers) , I stand here to day as I then stood, using all my, powers; mental and physical, to, preserve this nation in passing through the third phase of its eAstence. The organized forces and combing powers that recently stood arrayed against ni are disbanded and driven from the field ; but it does not follow that there are still no enemies against our present form of Government and our free institu tions. (Applause.) I then stood in the Senate of the United States denying the doctrine of separation and Secession. I I denied then as I deny now that any State has the right of its own will to separate itself from the other States, and thereby to destroy the Union and break up the Gogernment, and I think I have given some evidence that I have been sincere and in earnest, and now I want to know why it is that the whole train of slander ers, calumniators and traducers have been barking and snapping at Ty heels ? Why is it that they array , theThielves against me ? Is it because I stand on the side of the people, and when I say the people I include the sailors and soldiers? Why is it they are arrayed in traducing and vary ing and calumniating ? Where were they during the Rebellion ? (A voice— " Home in bed 1") In the Senate 1 raised my voice against it, and, when it was believed that it would be to the interest of the nation, and would assist in putting down the rebellion, did I not leave mp place in the Senate—a place of emolument, ease and distinction, and take my position where the enemy could be reached, and where men's lives were in danger ? (Cheers and cries of "that's son While laas thus exposed personally and in everway, some of my present tra ducers and calumniators were far:moved from the foe, and were enjoying * ease and comfort. But I care not for them- ' I care not for that slander. The foul w help of sin has been turned loose against me. I care not for all that. antLlet me tel care to a ay mat, annougn prett - y wen aa vanced in life, I feel that I titian live long enough to live down the whole pack of traducers and slanderers. (Applause.) They have turned the whole pack loose to lower me in your estimation. (Voices, "They cannot do it.") -' Tray, Blanche and Sweetheart, little dos s and all,"come along snapping and snarling at my heels, but I feel them not, The American peo ple, citizens, soldiers and sailors, know that from my advent into public life to the present moment I have always stood un yieldingly and unwavering as the advo cate and defender of their rights and in terests (Cheers.) Ware now in the nation's third orde al; we are not yet through it. We said that States could not go out of the linkup; we denied the doctrine of Secession, and we have demonstrated that we were right; wo demonstrated by , the strong arm; yes, the soldiers and the sailors— God bless them !—have demonstrated,:by their patriotic hearts and strong arms, that States have not the power to leave the Union. (Applause.) What followed ? The Confederate armies were overpow ered and disbanded, and there was a wil lingness, on the part of the people of those States, to come back, to be obedient to the laws, and acknowledge the suprema cy of the Constitution of our fathers. For what have we, passed thiongh this ordeal ? It was to establish the principle that no States bad the power to break up this Government. It was to put down the Rebellion. The rebellion has been put down, and for what ? Was it to de stroy the States P (Voices, " Never !") For what have all these lives been sacn fend and all this treasure expended ?- Was it for the purpose of destroying the States ? No. It was for the purpose of preservin the States in the Union of our fathers. it was for that you fought; it was for that I toiled, not to break up the Government, but to put down the Rebell" iou and preserve the union of the States. Thai is what we have been contending for, and to establish the fact that the nation can lift itself above and beyond intestine foes and treason and traitors at home. When the rebellion in Massachusetts- Wu pat:down, did that put Manitoba setts out of the .Union . and destroy. that State ? When the Rebellion in Pennsyl vania was put down, did that destroy the State. and put. it, out of the Union ? So when this last :great rebellion was put down,.and the Constitution and laws of the country were restored, the States en gaged in it stood. as part of the Union... The Rebellion being crushed, and .thelaw being restored, the Constitution 'being acknowledged, those States stand in the Union,constitating a part of the glorious and ;bright galaxy of Stare. (Cheers.) TRADUCE= AND CALUMNIATORS. THIRD ORDEAL. If.dSSACIIIIORTTEL - 4tdosx cr ar.corSTFAICIlp2t. g4O Prdelki what
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