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