. .. ... .„. ._ ...„ "'")).- 0 . ~_ .. n . • - ~... t . . ... ..„......---- „,___ ~—.._- .. . . . —.,.....—. ~. ,_.. .... .. _ . . v * • /..''....14,.......1 N \vs - ' '..-- Will i its 11111 ; • - - Oa a I • c ii_ j ~ . I 1 , ;. , • L. O . . • ‘:(... • ); , ;,. fis ifu 1. 1 i -,. ! - i • _- ! / . - ,:.:........... .. :00., i ' 1 / 4 " 1 / 4 "... )' ''' \-..' --•,(... i '4 A,. * -,!\.,..., c ,' . 1 1 / 4 ., ~,) , A /mitt) Vaptr---Prootell to politics, Mintliar, fittreturt, Srituct, Art, fortiga, Illoststif nub Iran* jultiligtutt, fir. ESTABLISHED IN 1813. THE WAYNESBURG MESSENGER, PUBLISHED BY E. W. JONES & JAMES S. JENNINGS WAYNESBURG, GREENE CO., PA tErOPPIGIC NEARLY OPPOSITE THE PUBLIC SQUARE. _Ca ia 4 at /11 VI a I Bussastevms.—sl 50 in advance; $1 75 at the ex piration ofsix months; $2 00 within the year; $2 50 after the expiration of the year. APVEHTIBEMENTB inserted at $1 00 per square for three insertions, tilid 25 cents a square for each addition al insertion; (ten lines or less counted a square.) A liberal deduction made to yearly advertisers. Jos PAINTING, of all kinds, executed in the best stye, and on reasonable terms, at the "Messenger" Job I F office. IN questrurg ( Nusintss Otiarbs. ATTORNEYS. R. A. McCONNELL, STTORNEY AND COUNSELLOR AT LAW, Waynesburg, Pa. Er 'Office In the new frame building corner of Main and Washington streets, and nearly opposite the new Hotel. Collections, &e.. will receive prompt attention Waynesburg, February 5, 1862-Iy. J. A. J. BUCHANAN. WM. C. LINDSEY. BUCHANAN & LINDSEY, ATTORNEYS AND COUNSELLORS AT LAW, Waynesburg, Pa. Office on the North side of Main street, two doors West of the "Republican" Office. Jan. 1, 1862. A. FURMAN, 0. RITCHIE. PURMAN & RITCHIE, ATTORNEYS AND COUNSELLORS AT LAW, Waynesburg, Pa. hTMI business in Greene, Washington, and Fay ette Counties, entrusted to them, will receive prompt attention. Sept. It, 1861-Iy. H. W. DOWNEY, Attorney and Counsellor at Law. Office in Led with's Building. opposite the Court House. Sept. IL 1861-Iy. DAVID CRAWFORD, Attorney and Counsellor at Law. Office in Sayers' Building, adjoining the Post Office. Sept. 11, C. A. HLACK. JOHN PHELAN. BLACK & PHELAN, ATTORNEYS AND COUNSELLORS AT LAW Office in the Court House, Waynesburg. tilept. 11,1861-Iy. PHYSICIANS DR. A. G. CROSS WOULD very respectfully tender his services as a PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON, to the people of Waynesburg and vicinity. He hopes by a due appre ciation of human life and health, and strict attention is business, to merit a share of public patronage. Waynesburg, January 8, 1882. DR. D. W. BRADEN, Physician and Surgeon. Office in the Old Bank Building, Main direct. Sept.. 11, 1861-Is. DRUGS DR. W. 1, CREIGH, Physician and Surgeon, And dealer in Drugs, Medicines. Oils, Paints, &c., he., Main street, a few doors east of the Bank. Sept. 11, IB6l—ly. M. A. 11ARVEY, Druggist and Apothecary, and dealer in Paints and Oils, the most celebrated Patent Medicines, and Pure Liquors for medicinal purposes. Sept. 11,1861-Iy. r~~.f~+~tf=~-~~~M~ WM. A. PORTER, Wholesale and Retail Dealer in Foreign and Domes tic Dry Goods, Groceries, Notions, &c., Main street. Sept. 11, 1861-Iy. GEO. HOSKINSON, Opposite the Court House, keeps always on hand a large stock of Seasonable Dry Goods, Groceries, Boots and Shoes, and Notions generally. Sept. 11, 1861-Iy. ANDREW WILSON, Dealer in Dry Goods, Groceries, Drugs, Notions, Hardware, Queensware, Stoneware, Looking Glasses, Iron and Nails, Boots and Shoes, Hats and Caps, Main street, one door east of the Old Bank. Sept. 11, 1861-Iy. R. CLARK, Dealer in Dry Goods, Groceries, Hardware, Queens ware and notions, in the Hamilton House, opposite the Court House. Main street. Sept. 11. 1861-Iy. MINOR & CO., Dealers in Foreign and Domestic Dry Goods, Gro aeries, Queensware, Hardware and Notions, opposite me Green House. Main street. Sept. 11, IB6l—ly, CLOTHING N. CLARK, Dealer in Men and Boy's Clothing, Cloths, Cassi ineres, Satinets, Hate and Caps, kc., Main street. op. posite the Court House. Sept. 11, 1861-Iy. A. J. SOWERS, Dealer in Men and Boy's Clothing, Gentlemen's Fur- Matting Goods, Boots and Shoes, Hats and Caps, Old Bank Building, Main street. Sept. IL 1861-4 m BOOT AND SHOE DEALERS. J. D. COSGRAY, Boot and Shoe maker, Main street, nearly opposite) the "Farmer's and Drover's Bank." Every style of Boots and Shoes constantly on hand or made to order. Sept. 11, 1861-Iy. J. B. RICKEY, Root and Shoe maker, Sayerht Corner, Main street. Boots and Shoes of every variety always on hand or made to order on short notice. Sept. 11, 1861—ly. GROCERIES & vaaITTIES JOSEPH YATER, Dealer in Groceries and Confectioneries, Notions, Medicines. Perfumeries, Liverpool Ware, &c., Glass of all sizes • and Gilt Moulding and Looking Glue Plates. il7*Case paid for good eating Apples. Sept. 11. 1861-Iy. • JOHN MUNNELL, Dealer in 6rocecies and Confectionaries, and Variety Deeds Generally, iison's New Building, Main street. Sept li, 1861-Iy. MOORS. &c. LEWIS DAY, Dealer in School and Miscellaneous Books, Station ery, Ink, Magazines and Papers, Wilson's Old Build ing. Main street. Sept. 11, 1861-Iy. :Y-11 11. .•••••KW••••••••••Now• .... • FA ME RS' 81. - DROVERS' BANK, Waynesburg, Pa. C. A. BLACK, Pres't. • J. LAZZAR„ Outlier DISCOUNT DAY, WEDNESDAY Skis. 1861-Iy. wiai o ns D EiyugEss s MUNi t 'ALLISTE Paths; ilsendli andlll6l4lllllpAlaie, three doors west of the Adams Sept. tf, 1861-Iy. grElut Dattrg. HOUSEHOLD BABY. BY GRACE GREENWOOD What a joy to human eyes, When it laughs, or when it cries ; What a treasure, what a prize Is the household baby ! AP Be its temper rising, falling, Is its cooing, crowing, squalling, 'Tis the same dear, precious darling— Is the household baby ! If the scene without be dreary, If the heart within grow weary, Baby wakes and all is cheery-- What a rush for baby ! Mamma's eyes grow bright with joy— Grandpa laughs, and "grandpa's boy" Gladly leaves his last new toy To play bo-peep with baby! Sisters from their music run, Maud has caught the "sweetest one," Grace bends down in girlish fun, To make a horse for baby ! Up to everything we know, Hands and feet "upon the go," What a funny creature though, Is the household baby ! Bring the puppy and the cat, Let her pull, and pinch, and pat, Puss and pup were made for that— Made to please the baby ! Bring the china vase, mamma, Get "the mirror and the hammer," Any thing to make a clamor, And delight the baby ! Let It clang and clash away, Let it laugh and shout and play, And be happy while it may, Dear, mischievous baby ! What a joy to human eyes, What an angel in disguise, What a treasure, what a prize, Is the household baby ! griert Yo istEllarg. STORY OF TO-DAY. "Now, Martin, I've got everything stow ed away in this bundle, though it was mighty hard work. I've done up them two shirts fit for a king, and I've stowed away a little batch of doughnuts in one corner; and I've given you a green needle book, and the top is filled with pins, and you'll find sewin' silk, and brown thread, and a couple o' darnin' needles in one cor ner. You've got three pairs of nice, warm socks, that I knit last summer, and that never went on to your feet. You must look out and not wet 'em, whatever comes, for I al'ays thought your father caught his death cold the day that he felled the hickory in the south meadow, for he came home with his feet soppin' wet, and was so hoarse he couldn't speak a , loud word the next day, and before the week was gone the cough set in, which carried him to his grave. You'll remember, Martin, and mind to not get your feet wet "I'll do the best I can, mother. You talk as though you didn't know much about the rough and tumble time we've got to go through, but you mean it all right." It was in a large kitchen of a small old fashioned country cottage, that these words were spoken. You could not have helped liking the old woman's face, pale and faded though it was with years, and sickness and care ; it had such a good mother-look, and was so full of kindness and sympathy. She was poor and old ; her husband had long ago laid down on that last brown pillow which the earth spreads smooth for all her children. And around his grave clustered half a dozen smaller ones, sons and daughters who had gone before him. So Martin Johnson was all that remain ed to his mother; the hope and staff of her old age. All the tendrils of her love wove themselves around him ; and he was a kind, thoughtful, industrious son, whose highest ambition was to pay off the mort i gages on the old homestead, and settle down there for life. But when the summer crops were most ly in, and the winter and the hard times promised little work or recompense to farm laLor, he had been induced to join a company of volunteers forming in his town. And now the last hour with his mother had come, and he stands there the young, brave, stalwart man, and there is a strange weakness about his heart and huskiness in his throat, and he wishes he could get away without speaking the last word. "Come, mother," he says, stowing the large bundle in his deep coat pocket, "it's high time I was off, so we must say good bye. Take care of yourself now, and don't go fretting yourself about me. I'll write as often as I &in." The old woman put her feeble arms about the strong man. "Oh, my boy."— And the sobs shook her gray hairs, "you won't forg44oar poor old !mother, ',hat loves you better than her life? You'll nisi Alliftilehmorthlf 111111111sisitrifellik risk and the night will never fall, in walks , WAYNESBURG, GREENE COUNTY, PA., WEDNESDAY, APRIL 9, 1862. doesn't pray God to take care of her boy ; and you won't forget the little red covered Bible, I put into a corner of the bundle?" "No, I won't forget it. Come now, mother, give me a real, hearty, cheerful good-bye. Don't look on the dark side.— Maybe I shall be back before the year's over, and then if he's done his duty, as a brave man should, and may be got pro moted, you'll be proud of your soldier boy?" "But, you are all I've got, Martin, and if anything should happen to you, it would break my heart—it would break it, Mar- tin." "Don't talk of anything happening, mother, except what's good. Come, cheer up, for I want a last smile instead of a last sob, and there isn't another minute to spare!" Mrs. Johnson swallowed down her sobs, and drawing down the sunburnt face to her lips, she said with a tremulous smile : "God bless you, my precious boy !" "God bless you, mother!" He couldn't trust his voice to speak another word, and he dashed away. She stood in the door and watched him until he was ought of sight, and she saw him brush his hands across his eyes several times before he turned and waved it to her. Once her voice followed after him— "Don't forget the doughnuts, Martin." "I shan't the next time I'm hungry." They were the last words she heard. A moment later and he was ought of sight, and Mrs. Johnson went in and closed the door. God help him ! "Is there any tidings from the war, Squire Farnham?" asked Mrs. Johnson, as the gentleman entered her cottage, one pleasant morning in early autumn.— Farnham was a bluff, rubicund faced, cor pulent, good hearted sort of a man. That very morning a short paragraph in the country newspaper had caught his eye, and it ran : "Martin Johnson of the Third Vermont Regiment was shot by scouts last night, while on guard duty." The Squire saw at the first glance that the terrible tidings had not reached Mrs. Johnson. He had ridden over to con dole with her, and it had fallen to him to break the news to the stricken, as best he could. "Well, yes," said the gentleman, taking a chair in the small parlor, and feeling very awkward, "we've had some news." There was something in the tone which made Mrs. Johnson look up with a sob of fear in her heart, "Is it bad news?" she asked. "Mrs. Johnson, I'm sorry for you from my soul !" said Squire Farnham. Perhaps a woman would have broken the news more tenderly, but the Squire was a blunt man, and did it after his fash- Mrs. Johnson's lips grew very white; she came towards the Squire, and said in a rapid trembling voice: "Have you heard anything about my boy ?" "Mrs. Johnson, he's gone I" She did not shriek or scream,—she sat down in the nearest chair, and lifted up her withered hands, and while the tears swam down her cheeks, she moaned, "Don't say so, Squire Farnham, don't say my boy has gone. God has got all the rest, and I thought He'd leave him to my old age! "No, no, it can't be that Martin's gone, —that I shall never hear his bright, quick step, on the walk, or see his dear face come bounding in at the door. He was all I'd got in the wide world, and I was so proud of him and I loved him so. My little Martin, whose yellow curls I used to wind around my fingers, when he was a baby, and crow'd in my lap—my little blue eyed Martin lying, away off there still, and cold, with no mother to bend down her face over him when he looked up and called for her the last time—oh, don't say my boy is gone, or my heart will break 1" moaned the poor mother, as the truth began to dawn more fully on her. Squire Farnham was a strong man, but he bowed down his bead and wept like a child. At last he looked up, for there was a sudden fall. Mrs. Johnson had fainted. "God help her," he said, as he lifted her on the bed in the pext room. "She has said the truth ; heriheatt will break." Dear reader, on the golden back ground of the last summer days how many such dark scenes have been painted? Let us, who mourn no beloved dead on the battle-field, be humble, be pitiful, and grateful to God that no blow has fall en upon our homes; and may He drop the dews of His healing on the hearts which have been torn with that anguish, for which there is neither help nor consa lotion! 1 It is told of a Connecticut field officer, better acquaizrted with farm ing than soldiering, that vtheti ,cir camatances placid him in comantand, of his regimen ,at ilatteras, fie wish ditto obkiAtuo iikt gore 'gbh" emilapotpiiiiit/Ht that mud-puddle." .100111asag HEALTH, STRENGTH, AND STRONG MFJ. BY DR. G. B. WINSHIP Health, if we go back to its prim itive meaning, is a wholeness, sound ness. A well person, then, is a whole and sound person. One such man may perhaps be fotmd in a hundred thousand; one such woman in half a million. Health, even in the com mon acceptation of the term, is rath er an exceptional occurrence. In deed disease and premature decay seem to have stamped their presence on the great mass of mortals, doom ing them to reach their grave at a period when they should be crowned with the perfection of vitality.— Think of the average duration of human life being less than forty years ! Think of not one person in a million dying a natural death ! And think, too, of the nearly two thousand instances, said to be well au thenticated, of persons living to an age between one hundred and two hundred and seven! Health is never inherited by a child whose parents were not exam amples of it. Under the most favor able circumstances the child at birth can only represent, in its condition, the average conditions of its parents. It remains for education—or what is the same thing, culture—to determine whether that child shall become in any way superior to its parents, or inferior. By culture poetical Shake speare became a poet, and philosophi cal Newton a philosopher. Culture, be it understood, cannot create a single faculty or function ; but give to it a mere rudiment of either to be subjected to its influence, and the production of a specimen of perfect developement may be regarded sim ply as a work of time; and the time ought not surely to exceed seven years, if it is true, as many physiolo gists assert, that in the course of seven years the human body under goes complete renewal. Health, in a literal sense, is an im possible attainment, but few need de spair of making a respectable ap proach to it. Cornaro, the Italian, whose treatise on health and long life gave him a world-wide celebrity, began at forty to repair the ravages which many years of dissipation had produced on a constitution naturally infirm ; and in spite of the predictions of his physicians and friends, he at length succeeded in attaining to such an improvement in his condition as made him the envy of his acquaint ances. He was eighty when he pub lished his famous treatise—lived to see it through four editions, and died tranquilly in his bed after he had completed his one hundredth year. Another memorable example, to be cited in the same connection, was that of John M'Alpin, a Scotchman, whose condition was truly deplora ble until his twenty-first year, at which time he entered upon a sys tem of training, the leading features of which were an almost -total ab stince from spirituous liquors and tobacco, the avoidance of 'late hours," restriction to a plain diet, and pursuance of regular system of vigorous out-of-door exercise. The ex cellent condition that M'Alpin subse quently reached and enjoyed may be inferred from the fact that he lived to the age of one hundred and nineteen; and then he did not die of old age, but of grief at the misconduct of some of his relatives, who were im plicated in the Scotch rebellion 0f1745. Strength. What is that ? It is not only the power of the muscles to con tract, but it is also that of the bones to sustain, of the ligaments to hold, of the arteries and veins to resist muscular pressure from without and blood pressure from within, and every other power besides which is directly associated with the muscu lar. It may also be defined as the measure of vital and voluntary force. It is a subject about !hich very lit tle has been written or said, and yet it is intimately connected with that of health, about which countless volumes have been written, and which seems to have always largely occu pied:the attention of mankind. That considerable misunderstanding has long existed in the minds ofnot a few in regard to the relationship of strength and health is very obvious, from the fact that strength is rarely alluded to except incidentally in hy gienic works: The authors of such seem to have never suspected that where strength is wanting health is wanting also; that in so far as we lack the one we lack the other; that al ways both are present, or both absent. The truth is, strength and health are correlative, my health being as my strength, and your health, reader, (if you will allow me to say it,) as your strength. He who has the strength of Samson has the health of Samson. Any gain in strength involves some gain in health; hence one means of improving health is to increase the strength. Strength below the average is attended with health below the average . The weak are ester delicate and liable to injury mitt disease, while the etrons•Are in viirilki=y, sad not easily liar*, • 'sti& fitifi14.3%,64144) 1. . alLaStialMtis444oll, an oak tokaiipagimaiwmilwaffp away an obstacle that would have seriously obstructed a rivulet; an oak will withstand the shock of a tempest by which a pine would have been uprooted and torn asunder. Strength is often confounded with mere endurance, which is an entirely different thing. It was a feat of strength for Capt. Barclay, the famous pedestrian, to lift with his hands a weight of ten hundred and fifty pounds. It was a feat of endurance for that same Capt. Barclay to walk a thousand miles in a thousand hours. If strength is what a gymnast particu larly desires, at strength he should particularly aim, and the same is true of endurance; but as each is a virtue, the one cannot be greatly increased without the other being somewhat increased, and it is always easy to convert the one into the other. It is even possible for a gymnast to have both in a remarkable degree, but this will seldom be advantageous to one who gets his living by his head rather than by his hands. Knack, too, is not unfrequently taken for strength. An ordinary person, by simply knowing how, may successfully resist the pulling of two horses, as was done by the German, Eckberg, who, in the last century, went about Europe under the name of' "The Second Samson ;" whereas Topham, a real Samson in strength, in attempting to perform the same feat, was not only unsuccessful, but received an injury from which he never entirely recovered. But per haps the most remarkable example of the efficiency of knack was afford ed at Kelso, Scotland, on the 9th of October, 1792, by a man named Mc- Gregor, a painter by trade, of slender person, and only five feet seven inch es in height. This man, by a second blow of his unprotected fist, felled a bullock. With this fact in view, it may not be unreasonable to suppose that Milo of Miletus, who is reputed to have felled a bullock with a single blow of his fist, may not have been so uncommonly strong as he was be lieved to be by those who had wit nessed the exploit. Strength cannot always be correct ly estimated by size alone. It is re lated of Thomas Topham, who was regarded by scientific authority as the strongest man of the eighteenth century, that when he made his first application to the magistrate of the town of Derby for permission to give a public exhibtion of the extraordi nary strength that he claimed to pos sess, the magistrate, astonished at the apparent discrepancy between the looks of the man and the feats he proposed, requested him to "strip" that he might see if he was made like , other men. He was found on exam in ation to be extremely muscular; that 1 what were hollows under the hams and armpits of other men, were in his case masses of ligaments. The magistrate, having his curiosity somewhat ex- cited, was at length induced to allow an announcement of the exhibition to be made; but it was not until the feats proposed had been actually per formed that Topham cleared himself from the imputation of being an im poster. It seems indeed to be a very com mon belief that great strength and great size are inseparable, when the truth is that giants are almost always comparatively weak,and generally ab solutely so. Perhaps the best exam ple on record of unquestionably great strength vested in a mammoth frame was that of Maximim, previously to his becoming emperor—a man whom historians have declared to have been nearly eight feet in height and of a weight to correspond. I doubt very much, however, if he was more than a third stronger than an ordinary athlete; and I venture to say that a person might be found, who without exceeding five feet seven inches in height, may acquire ability, before his thirty-fifth year of lifting and sustaining a weight which Maximim could not only never have lifted, but which if merely suspended from his body in the most advantageous man ner would have crushed him out of shape. It has been stated that Behin, the Belgian giant, has straightened his body, under a weight of two tons ; although no reference has been made to the place where or the time when the deed was done; so that one may well question the correctness of the assertion. Lifting a weight is an immensely more difficult matter than merely sustaining it. Sir David Brewster, in his "Letters on Natural Magic," in which he ap plies his scientific knowledge to the investigation of displays of human strength, in giving an account of the performances of Eckberg and Top ham, estimates the strength of the• former as not exceeding that of or dinary men, while he admits that the feats of the latter were "real awl ex traordinary." Eckberg's most diffi cult performance wall sustaining a cannon, said to weigh about two thousand pounds; Tophana's that of lifting three hogsheads of water, s4i4 to weigh, with the connections, f. 4144 4 hundred and thirty-six pounds. WiramickkeTement of Topluine s, which Av**rikie4 ;LW immense, eon eofts• o perso6s, tri f place 411th street, Cold Bathfields, London, on the 29th of May, 1841, "in honor," it is said, "of Admiral Vernon, or .rather in commemoration of his taking Por to Bello with six ships only." "I Have not Begun to Fight Yet." The above language of the gallant and brave Paul Jones, when the Brit ish commander asked if he had struck his flag and surrendered, are me morable words. Although his deck was slippery and streaming with the blood of his gallant crew, his guns were nearly every one dismounted, his colors shot away, and his vessel graduAlly sinking, Paul Jones, with an immortal heroism, continued to fight. "Do you surrender?" shouted the English captain, desiring to prevent further bloodshed, and seeing the colors of the Bon Homme Richard gone, supposed the American hero wished to surrender. His answer was, "I have not began to fight yet!" The scene is thus dilsCribed : There was a lull in the conflict for an instant, and the boldest held his breath as Paul Jones, covered with blood and black with powder stains, jumped on a broken gun carriage, waving his sword, exclaimed in the never to be forgotten words, "I have not began to fight yet!" And the result was the battle changed, and in a few minutes the British ship struck her colors and surrendered. Paul Jones, leaping from his own ship, stood upon the deck of the British vessel, a conqueror and a hero. What an admirable watchword for the battle of life, does the above stir ring incident give to every man.— Reverse may overwhelm for a time, despair may ask Hope to strike her flag; but planting the foot more firm ly, bending the back more readily to the burdens imposed, straining the muscles to the utmost tension, and bracing the drooping heart, let him who is driven to the wall exclaim, "I have not begun to fight yet !" They are words of energy, hope and action. They deserve—they will command success. In the darkest hour let them ring out, and forget the past, the years wasted and gone by, and give them as an inaugural ad dress of a new era. When the mis fortunes of life gather too closely around, let your battle cry go forth from the thickest of the conflict, "I have not begun to fight," and you will find your foes fleeing before the new strength imparted, and yielding the vantage as you press forward in the battle strife. Gen. Mitchell's Rebuke to Mrs. Polk—A Scene for History. The following interesting scrap of news, writes a Nashville correspond ent so latq as last Saturday, is told by an eye-witness to the scene. One day last week, General Buell and all the Brigadiers of the Department, who were present, went in a body to call upon Mrs. James K. Polk and her niece, daughter of the es-Rev. Leonidas. Mrs. Polk seems de termined that no doubt should be en tertained as to her sentiments in re gard to our unhappy diffi.culties.— The gentlemen present, as they were severally addressed, simply bowed in silence, until General Mitch ell, who was standing somewhat away from the party was singled out. To him Mrs. P. remarked, "General, I trust this war will Speedily termi nate by the acknowledgment of South ern independence." The remark was the signal for a lull in the conversa tion, and all eyes were turned upon the General to hear his reply. He stood with his lips firmly com pressed and his eyes looking fully into those of Mrs. Polk as long as she spoke. He then said: "Madame, the man whose name you bear was once the President of the United States ; he was an honest man and a true patriot; he administered the laws of this Government with equal justice to all. - We know no inde pendence 'of one section of our coun try which does not belong to all oth ers, and judging by the past, if the mute lips of the honored dead, who lies so near us, could speak, they would express the hope that this war might never cease if that cessation was purchased by the dissolution of the Union of States over which he once presided." It is needless to say the effect was electrical, made, as the remark was, in a calm, dignified tone, and with that earnestness for which the Gen eral is noted; no offence could be ta ken. Southern Independence was not mentioned again during the in terview. 1 Daniel Webster said, just be fore his, death, "The sermon of Christ on the Mount cannot be a merely human production. This be lief enters into the very depth of my conscience. The whole history of man proves it." itiir"Speak, that I ista_xsee thee," said i Socrates to a fait -boy., We know metals *Or tinkhos and map by their talk- NEW SERIES.--VOL. 3, NO. 48. Oom. Foote As a Moral Reformer. The following is among the gen eral orders issued by Commodore Foote General Orders Na, _6.—A strict ob servance of Sunday, so far as abstain ing from all unnecessary work, and giving officers and men the opportu nity of attending public worship on board, will be observed by all per sons connected with the flotilla. It is the wish of the Commander in-Chief that on Sunday the publio worship of Almighty God, may be observed on board of all the vessels composing the flotilla; and that the respective commanders will either themselves, or cause other persons to pronounce prayers publicly on Sun day, when as many of the officers and men as can be spared from duty may attend the public worship of Almi gh ty God. Profane swearing being forbidden by the laws for the better govern ment of the navy, all officers and men will strictly observe this law ; and every officer who uses profane language towards the men in carry rying on duty will be held amenable for such gross violation of laws and order. Discipline to be permanent must be based on moral grounds, and offi cers must in themselves show a good example in morals, order and patri otism to secure these qualities in the men. ANDREW H. FOOTE, Flag Officer Commanding U. S. Na, val Forces on the Western Waters. Death of Ben. McCulloch. Gen. Ben McCulloch, who is re ported among the killed in the battle of the Ozark Mountains, was a Ten nessean by birth, and a vagabond and traitor by nature. He went to Texas in 1835 with Crockett, fought the Mexicans, and afterwards the In dians; settled in Texas, and took part in the border quarrels between Texas and Mexico. The first act of treason for which he became known, was committed in December, 184 when he made part of a band wig& attacked the town of Mier. Th. Texans were in turn threatened by a vastly superior force under Ampulla, and in order to secure their retreat; Fisher, the Colonel in command, sent McCulloch with a detachment to gath er horses and mules from the surr mind ing country and bring them into the town. McCulloch got the horses, but persuaded the men under his command to desert and leave their companions to their fate, which was decimation by the Mexicans and long imprisonment and suffering for the survivors. McCulloch explained away this act of treachery, was forgiven, and was afterwards a member of the Texan Legislature, a ranger and spy in the Mexican war; in 1855 United States Marshal of Texas, and since the outbreak of the rebellion a trai tor to his country. He was a dash ing partisan leader, but not a good general. A Patriotic Mother and a Rebel Son. A few days since Mrs. Tilghman, accompanied by her daughter, Mrs. Lowry, came to this city and put up at the Revere House, for the pur pose of visiting Gen. Tilghman, the rebel prisoner at Fort Warren,— There was some difficulty in obtain ing the required permission, but on Saturday the mother and sister were allowed - to visit the Fort and have an interview with the prisoner. The first exclamation on meeting 141 was, "Oh, my rebel son," and during the conversation she said, "When I heard you were taken, I thanked God that you had been rescued from secession influences, and were I to hear there was any chance of your being exchanged, I would go on my knees to the President to prevent you from again joining the rebels, for I had rather have you remain here during your life than to know yon were among the traitors of the country." Mrs. Tilghman received her per mit to visit the Fort direct from Secretary Stanton, whom she ad dressed, stating that though her son was a rebel, he was still her son, and she felt it her duty to visit him, if permitted. She left for *Philadel phia accompanied by her daughtlir, Saturday afternoon, expressing bier obligations to Col. Dimmick antioth ers for their kindness and attention. Boston Gazette. AN INFALLIBLE CURE FOR RIM7.I4A TISM.—The season for -rheumatic complaints being now upon us, the following recipe will prove invahla- Ole to doth citizens and soldiers:— The writer has found it an ir-414143 cure. The following proportions must be observed Yellow wax, lbs.; rosin, lbs.; Burgundy pitch, 8 14; camphor, 2 ounces; oil of spearniitit, 1 %Wise; finely sifted Spanish, brew and4o, on's blood su ffic ient W /Pit the above articles together!: anchaiit in the coloring matter til#Whir ply the plaster to the part ,I The above • nentiir le t all Viten* 143 040.4 for a - I"u_ ..w4Nakissk. • -
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers