BY D. A. & C. H. BUEHLER
VOLUME XXIII. }
F For the "Star and DEINPItr. "
My Two Friends.
Youthful tiee join them together,
And one which Woke above
To a' Father, Friend and Brother,
`Ands them in the bonds of love.
Pond recollections Mill are blending
With their hopes so deep nod broad ;
Prayers for each Irony each ascoodiub,
Go together up to God.
Mutual joys and team are even
A. the sunshine and the dew,
Which will make the plants of heaven
illoasom bete to bloom anew.
Together let them sing that song
-1 hat hew wing lull of love;
That :hey may still the theme prolong
When they have met above.
Duty calla—the would remind me
That I cannot linger here ;
I mule go—must leave behind me
No memento but a tear.
I ask no sigh. I ask no sorrow,
When I say the loot farewell.
Lite - a a day, and op the morrow
We may meet where angels dwell
I ink not that my name be spoken
When they mingle with the gay ;
Het when silence is unbroken,
At the closing of the day—
In the twilight hour of even.
When the first lone star they see,
If their thoughts go up to heaven
I would have them pray for mt.
To Endure.
There is a world of significance and of
triumph in this little verb. The elements
of all true worth, ntotal progress and vir
tue are contained in it. It is life's first
great lesson, the comprehension of which
furnishes the key of all other knowledge.
It has been beautifully said :
Not enjoyment. and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way ;
But to oil that each tomitirrow
Find. us further than to Jay.
Let us then be up and doing,
With • heart for any fate ;
Shill *chianti', still pur.ning,
Leans to labor and to wait !
The world's long history is luminous
with the exemplifications of the might of
this unambitious but sterling, steadfast
principle. The impulse of zeal, or the en
ergy of will, may be sufficient for the ex
etcution of a single great deed. Few men
there are who have not, at some time in
their lives, had purposes and impulses
which, if they could have been made per
manent, would hare amide them heroes.—
To rvsolve easy; but to remain resolved
—to endure the ordeal through which CV-
cry nohle purpose must pass—to transmute
the etwrgy of the momentary volition into
the tin-titer-Ale e..ume and current of the
—this is the stamp and the achieve
ment of only true moral heroism. It may
be the world knows it not—the world
knows but little of the realities of things ;
but the recording pen of Truth mill trace
the lineaments of greatnem and goodness
in the history of the man who endures,
rather than of the roan who dares.
O. feat not in • world like this,
And thou shalt know, ere long
K m.w how SUbil MC a thing it is
To and he strong.
ret endurance is a modest virtue,
the roach of all. All men may not he
heroes, but all ean learn patience and en
duranee. The weakest of our race may.
hen• t,:k•, rank among the foremost. The
I rialA 111 AT n are sellout chronicled by
the historian, or sung by the poet ; yet
they often have the elements of the true
rublime. Lt silence—oft-tintes in solitude
--timeless trials and evils, for which there
is neither solsec nor cure, are met with a
patience that bespeaks the loftiest traits of
human nature. It is peculiarly the virtue
of the poor ; poverty calls fur it and nour
ishes it ; and in the 'short and simple an
nals of the row,' arc often to be found the
exhibitions of the highest virtues. Hap
py are they who shall endure to the end.
Happy are they who bury their own sor
rows, in the depth of their own souls, and
open their hearts to the sorrows of others ;
who, having learned patience through suf
fering,
can sympathize with and console
the wretched and the erring.
DON'T STAND ON TUT TRACK.—"The
train," says a railroad Gazette, "may steal
suddenly upon you, and then a little trepi
• dation, a alight miss-stop, a slip of the foot,
and we shudder to think of your crushed
and bleeding body." So it is in the jour
ney of life; perils are around you on every
hand. But don't stand in their path and
defy them; don't stand in their path and
disregard them. Perhaps you now and
then take a little intoxicating drink. My
friend, if so, you are "standing on the
track," while the car of retribution comes
thundering on—moving in a right line—
approaching with Mandy and rapid wheels.
Will it not bear down and crush you?—
Perhaps you spend an occasional evening
with a party of friends, amusing yourselves
with cards or dice, staking small sums to
make the game interesting. My friend,
Son are "standing on the track." Thou
sands have stood there and perished.—
Don't wait to hear the rattling of the rush
ing *heels, bat fly from the track. At a
of distance, stand and view the wrecks
which you ponderous train will spread be
foul you. took well to the ground on
kit yo plant your feet, and forget not
these many days, our parting words,
fan% stead oe the track.'
Like Laken of eager tbat fall unpereeiv
i od epee the earth. the seemingly untmpor
cant events of life succeed one another.
Two kinds of Riches.
A little boy sat by his mother. He
looked long in the fire and was silent.—
Then, as the deep thought began to pass
away, his eye grew bright, and ho spoke :
"Mother, I wish to be rich."
"Why do you wish to be rich, my son r
And the child said, "because every one
praises the rich. Every one enquires after
the rich. The stranger at our table yester
day asked who was the richest man in the
village. At school there is a boy who
does not love to learn. lie takes no pains
to say well his lessons. Sometimes he
speaks evil words. But the children blame
him not, for they say he is a wealthy boy."
The mother saw that her child was in
danger of believing wealth might take the
ire of goodness, or be an excuse for in
°lone°, or cause them to be held in hon
or who lead unworthy lives.
So she asked him, "What is it to be
rich." And he answered "I do not know."
Yet tell me how I may become rich, that
all may ask after me and praise me!"
The mother replied :
"To become rich is to get money. For
this you must wait until you are a man."
Theu the boy looked sorrowful, and said :
Is there not some other way of being
rich, that I may begin now !"
She answered, the gain of money is not
the only nor true wealth. Fires may burn
it down, the floods drown it, the winds
sweep it away, moth and rust waste it, and
the robber make it his prey. Men are
wearied with the toil of getting it, but they
leave it behind at last. They die and car
ry nothing away. The soul of the richest
prince goeth forth like that of the way-side
beggar, without a garment. There is an
other kind of riches, which is not kept in
the purse, but in the heart. Those who
possess them arc not always praised by
men, but have the praise of God.
"Then," said the boy, "may I begin to
gather this kind of riches now, or must I
wait till 1 grow up, and am a man ?"
The mother laid her hand upon his lit
tle head and said.
"To-day, if ye will hear Ilis voice ; for
lle Lath promised that those who seek ear
ly shall find."
And the child said, "Teach me how I
may become rich before God."
Then she looked tenderly on him, and
said, "Kneel down every night and morn ,
fling, and ask that in your heart you may
lovo the dear Saviour and trust in him.—
Obey his word, and strive all the days of
your life to be good, and to do good to all.
So, though you may be poor in this world,
you shall be rich in faith and •u heir of
the kingdom of heaven."
Eastern and American Women.
The National Intelligenceris publishing
a scrim of letters from a citizen of Wash
ingt ro, who is travelling in the Old World.
to his last letter lie thus compares the wo
men with those of his own country :
-In my rambles in the village of Baal
bee, I was struck with the beauty of the
ehil,lren, and the extreme youthfulness of
some of the Arab mothers. 1 saw several
young females, not more than twelve or
fourteen years of age, with babies iu their
arms, evidently their own ; and I was told
that it was quite common throughout Sy
ria. Many of the women were very beau
tiful—much more so I think than either
the Circasaiau or Turkish women. It was
quite enchanting, their fine complexion,
dark eye-brows, and flashing eyes ; and for
regularity and delicacy of features, I have
i seldom seen them equalled, except in other
parts of Syria. In Nazereth I saw some
I of the beat formed and most beautiful wo
men I had over seen in any country; I
believe it is noted as much for the beauty
of its female population among tourists, as
as for its historical interests; but at no
place did I see what I really thought ap
proached the perfection of beauty in so
high a degree as in Bethlehem.
The women of Bethlehem are absolute
ly bewitching. I never saw such perfect
profiles, such eyes and eyebrows, and'such
delicate little hands and kilt. Not that I
mean to say that they have all the higher
attributes of beauty our own fair noun
' trywomen, for tat would be sacrilege
There is nothing in the East, or in Europe
either, or any where else that I have ever
visited, to compare with the ladies of Phil
adelphia, Baltimore and Washington.—
Talk of Parisian beauties! Lively and
vivacious they are, to be sure; but not
dignified, not queenly, not gentle and mod
est. Talk of English beauties ! Grand ,
enough, fair, but not graceful, and stiff as
buckram. Italian beauties; dark, dull,
and greasy. Gorman, fat and florid; Turk
ish, tallowy and buttery; all well enough
in their way ; but, Marshalla I it won't do
to mention them in the same breath with
American beauties I"
How many tine. hats serve as covers for
worthless heads,, and how many plaited
boner cover a hollow cavern where - sr
heart should be lodged. _
The glitter of riches often serves to draw
attondon to the worthlessness of the pos
sessor, is the light emitted by the glow
worm remit the insect.
GETTYSBURG, PA. FRIDAY EVENING, SEPTEMBER,IO. 1852.
"The Old Folks at Howe I"
Way down upon the Sawney river,
Far, far away—
Dah's wha my heart is turning ever,
Dab wha de old folks gay.
All upend down the whole creation,
Sadly I roam—
Still longing for the old Plantation,
And fur the old folks at Home.
All the world am ' , Wand dreary
Every where I roam—
Oh, darkies, my heart grows weary,
Far from the old folks at Home
411 round the little farm I wandered,
Men I was young—
Den many happy days I squandered,
Many do songs-I sung ;
When I was playing wid my brudder,
Happy was I
Oh take me to my kind old mudder,
Deli let me live and die !
All the world ern sad and dreary,
Every where I roam—
Oh, darkies, how my heart grows weary,
Far from the old folks at home.
One little hut among the bushes,
One that I lore—
Still fondly to my memory niches.
No matter where I rove.
When will I boar the bees a bumming
All 'mong de comb;
When will I hear the banjo trumming,
Down in my good old Home !
All the world am sad and dreary,
Every where I team—
Oh, darkies, how my heart grows weary,
Far Irom the old folks at Home.
'TAINT LIKE.--A certain lawyer had
his portrait taken in his favorite attitude
—standing With his hands in his pockets.
His friends and clients all went to sec it,
and everybody exclaimed, "Oh, bow like!
It's the very picture of him." An old
farmer only dissented. "'Taint like ?" ex
claimed everybody; "just show us where
in 'taint like?" "'Taint, no: 'taint,"
responded the farmer, "don't you see be
has got his hand in his own pocket ? It
would be as like again if he had it iu some
body else's."
QUEER MARRIAGE RELATIONSHIP.-
We have been informed by an intelligent
resident of Western VirgMal That there
resides near him a man about 30 years of.
age, whose matridionial history is as fol
lows : When he was a child his father died.
His mother soon married a very young
man, and died. His step-father, but 13
years older than himself, married a young
wife and died, when our hero married his
step-mother :—Washing loam News.
When Oliver Cromwell first coined half
crowns, an old soldier, looking at one of
them, read this inscription:—"God with
us," on one side, and the "Commonwealth
of England" on the other side. "I see,"
said he, "that God and theConiniouwealth
are on opposite sides."
THE AUTHOR OF 'HOME SWEET HOME.'
—The Springfield (Mass.) Republican,
in noticing the death of John Howard
Payne, the author of "Home, Sweet
Home," pays the following tribute to the
author of the song :
write little song that he has bequeathed
to his countrymen, gives bun a lull as•
surance of an immortality, honored and
gratelul. It has been sung with simple
and rude earnestness in the humblest hov
el; and at the time the news of his death was
received, Tripler Hall was echoing its
beautiful language, as it fell from the lips
of the world's best singer. It is a price.
less gem of song. Everybody knows it,
everybody has been soothed by it at
home, and has wept over its sweet sugges
tions when abroad. It is forever associa
ted with the dearest spot on earth. and is
enshrined in every heart, while it Enka the
author's name by golden chains to all fu
turity."
Souls--Not Stations.
Who shall judge ■ man from manner 1
Who shall know him by his dress 1
Paupers mey he fit for princes ;
Princes fit for something else.
Crumpled shirt end dirty jacket
May beclothe the golden ore
Of the deepest thoughts and feelings
-Batin vests could do no more.
There are springs of crystal nectar
Ever welling nut of atone
There are purple buds and golden.
Hidden, crushed and overgrown.
God, who counts by souls not dresses,
Loves end prospers you and me,
While he values thrones the highest.
But as pebbles in the sea.
The following choice morceen, of a edi
tor's seection in the Seuth-West, to en
tertain his reader, is given to the Home
Journal, as a characteristic of Western
country poetry :
"Give me a kiss, my charming Sal,"
A lover once said to hit. blue eyed gal,
"I won't" said she, "you saucy elf,
Screw up your lip, and help yourself."
"When we hear," says the Boston Post,
"men and, women speak lightly of the
in
duetrioua part of the community, we feel
just like tracing back their genealogy.—
We have done so In several instances, and
you would be surprised at what we learn
ed. The most aristocratic man of our
acquaintance is the grandson of a fiddler ;
the proudest woman, the daughter of a
washerwoman."
An Irishwoman, who kept a little' gro.
cery, being brought to her death,bed, when
on the point of breathing her last, called
her husband to her bedside.
Minus Maloney, she
owes me sits shillings." said she faintly.
'•Oah I Biddy, darlint, rent siosible to
the hit," exclaimed the huslmnd.
64165, dear ; and there's Mucus Mc
Craw, I owe a dollar."
“Oell I be abberr, We're es foolish , as
firer‘”
"FEARLESS AND FREE."
SPEECH OF JOIE CONRID,
AT HARRIIpiUItO
I am proud of my natjve State for many
things—for her patriotism and power—
for her glorious past, 11 . 1 . 1 d her mighty fa
' Lure--but for nothing Wore than for her
honest gratitude to our'national izianefae
facture, from Wishinguas down to Scott ;
and it is with no ordinar# exultation, there
fore, that I greet and congratulate you on
this proof that the .on of the Keystone
are as ready to reward*reat deeds as to
achieve them ; and that, if the bosom. ol
her hills has iron for oar country's foes,
their brows are rich, In laurels for her
champions.
Before I ascended title stand, a respec
table citizen said to me, "If you address
us, forget that you are a Whig, and tell us
—all party considerations aside—why you
ask us to vote for Gen. Scott." Forget' ,
that lam a Whig! When I can forget
that Franklin and Jefferson, Washington
and Clay were Whigs--when I can for
get that it is a distinction baptized in the
pure blond of the revolution, and hallowed
by the genius and patriotism of our coon-'
try's noblest spirits—when I can forget
that its principles are the vital air which
liberty breathes, and that its policy is the
palladium of the union and glory of my
country—when my reason forgets its in
most convictions and roy heart its holiest
duties—when, in short, my right hand for
gets its cunning, then, in that starless mid-
night of the mind, I may forget that I am
a Whig; but till then, never. It is the
political faith of truth and right—a faith
glorious alike in victory sod defeat, in
good report or evil report. I have given
it my youth and manhood; my health,
hope, and fortune ; and having thus long
lived in it aid for it, I will, if Providence
vouchsafes MC an unclouded reason, die
by it.
Hut I nm also a Democrat—for a Dem•
ocratic Whig is the best of Democrats—
and respecting the sincerity of the masses
that constitute the party to which I am op
posed, I will willingly comply with the
request to state - seby"Thwant your VOWS
for General Scott. Fur Ido ask 'limn—
earnestly ask them, believing that your
dearest rights and interests are involved
in your action. I will speak frankly and
plainly ; and trust that you will hear me
without prejudice, arid decide. not for fae
'ion. but for the right, for public justice
and public gratitude.
I ask your votes for Winfield Scott, be
cause you are (-funnelled to choose be
tween hint and Franklin Pierce. •there
is no other choice. To . voto for a third
candidate is the suicide of suffrage. It is
deny a privilege and to r kolk a duty ; it is
neutrality, and the neutrality of a freeman
is the crime of a slave. I hold that Frank
lin Pierce is nut only inferior—how infe
rior !—to Gen. Scott. but that he is. per se
and pinotively, mint fur the Presidency.—
Hear my reasons.
One oldie moat vi;81 of the liberties of
the people—one bought-with blood, sancti
fied by time and secured by charter—is
the Right o/ Petition—a right inestima
ble to Mt, and "formidable to tyrants on
ly." No freeman would brook its abate
ment in the weight of n heir. It was
cheaply bought and would he cheaply pre
served. with an ocean of blood. Yet
Franklin Theme, by lus vote ii, Congress,
denied and sought to destroy that right.—
There/ors is he unlit.
Equal in sacredness In that liberty—su
perior 10 all else—is RrligiouB liTedom
—Mc right to worship (4ul without kneel
ing in n•tters. Picree is the
leader of the party in New Ilampshire
which denies that freedom to a portion of
her people—no matt( r what portion—de-'
Mee it by constitutional eonelittent. Thal,
party controlled the question ; Franklin!
Pierce controlled that party ; but he nei
!her exerted that power, nor, when flees- I
sion offered, opened his lips, in or out oh
the Convention, to utter a word, one poor
word, for the most sacred of human rights
trampled down at. ny, under his very feet.
lie is therefore unfit; and to reward him
would be to share his crime.
He is unfit, further, because he repro..
senhs a platform of principles the most ()th
ous and destructive. [Here some '4 , 4- she
over-crowded benches tell, creating a into.
mentary confusion.] That fall is ominous
of the fatoorhis platform and his party—
first a crash, [applause] and then the
shouts of an exulting people. He is unfit
alio, because he is aped at the South, with
the rankest and most arrogant foes of the
Union—men who would tear the Consti
tution into shreds, and twine those shreds
into thongs for slaves; and associated at
the north, with a pliant and hungry horde,
ready to kiss those thongs or to wear them,
if the majesty of the South deign but to
give them a kick or cast them a copper.
But more than all is he unfit, because he
takes a nomination made in fraud, and in
defiance of the known will of the party
constituency represented—or rather be
trayed—a monstrous and measureless out
rage upon the republican principle. That
nomination was made, not merely not
withstanding Pierce was inferior to the
eminent statesmen suggested by the peo
ple, but because he was thus inferior—that
inferiority being his sole merit end their,
sole motive. 'What else can be preteltdedl
True, he is urged as a hero; but his mili
tary achievements, what are they ? Noth
ing. He is commended, also, as a states
men; but what are his civil triumphs I
Nothiog. In war, what battle did he win,
or help to win t None. In peace, what
principle has he illustrated? None.—
What measures did he carry in Cougeme.?
Again, none, What work has he produc
ed at home t Still, none. The delebrated
Rochester displayed his ingenuity by a
poemoon "Nothing." TheLoesofooo Con
vention adopted the same subject.. His
histarrie at-blank-41s exploits a dream --=
Otis claim a shadow. Plotting constitutes
his career; nothing %minuted his nomina
tion ; nothing can effect his elect on ; far,
us his merits are nothing, nothing can
come of nothing.
'I regard this contemptuous trifling with
such • sacred duty, as full of feeilll.
riii• Our government can survive earth-
quakes from below and torrents of fire
from above—anything but self-contempt.
To degrade the Presidency, that most au•
gust of human trusts, is a crime without an
an equal, a kesa nudestas. a treason a
gainst the lite and honor of the Republic.
Its effect, if no; its object, is to deprive the
Constitution of its guardians, by driving
the gifted and patriotic into retirement or
exile ; and to debase the highest office to
the lowest end,, by placing it in the hands
of an imbecile and obscure tool of faction
—some Ditlitis Julianos of the political
prietorian band. Wo to the lar.d where
such a profanation can with impunity be
attempted. But I have no fear. The orb
that rose in 1776, and has flooded the
world with its radiance, can never decline
into that inky ocean of shame. The dig
nity that was occupied by Washington, is
still hallowed in the eyes and hearts of
the people ; when it cease@ to be, freedom
will cease to be.
The triumphs of Scott have ever arisen.
not from the weakness of his enemy—for
lie has always had '•loemen worthy of his
steel"—but from his own su?erior genius
and valor. So be it nowt for I would
rather dwell on his claims than on his
rival's deficiencies ! Why should we vote
for Gen. Scott! 1 will answer.
Some forty-five years since, • youthful
student sat in the office of a sage of the Old
Dominion, B. Watkins Leigh, and ponder
ed on the condition of his country and the
duty that he owed her. The times were
out of joint. The nations seemed loos
ened from their mooringi, and were driven
clashing on the waves of an almost uni
versal war, like icebergs its a polar tem- I
pest. Our own bright land did Dot escape
the Storm. tier flag had, been outraged
upon every sea ; her sons dragged into)
slavery, and even forced to raise a parri
cidal arm , against their country. War,
was inevitable, and at a fearful odds—a
war not only for honor and freedom, but
for existence itself. Was it well that he,
that gifted student, every pulse of whose
heart beat for his dear country, should
nurse his schemes of tranquil ambition.
when such a peril and such a duty in
voked him 1 Nu ; and his high brow glow
ed and his quirk eve flashed, as he vowed
himself, Mr life or death, to_ the cause of,
his country. By that resolve was Win-I
field Scott—every faculty of his high na
lure. every drop of his noble heart—deilb
rated to the duties of patriotism. Never'
was a purer offering laid upon a holier al
tar ; and for that, for that noble resolve,'
and its nobler fulfilment, do I now claim
your admiration stud gratitude.
The gathering Blonde soon burst upon
our country. She struggled, but her heart
seemed, for a time, faint, and her arm nerve-'
less. Calamity followed calamity, until,
in the base surrender of Hull, treason and
reproach were added to her afflictions.-1
Iler heart swelled, her frame quivered
with rage, and she shed hot tears of shame
and sorrow. One patriot there was who
determined that the gulph of elinine, like
that of Curtin*, should he closed, though
it entombed !inn ; and lie offered himself a .
sacrifice. In the desperate struggle on the
heights of Queeindo wit, death itself seemed
to shrink from hie daring. are the
target of every rifle—cover your uniform
with this coat," said Kearney to Scott.—
Never !,, was his reply, "1 will die in my
robes." I derive this fact through an em- I
mew oppotieut from Kearney himself. Sur
rotinued by an overwhelming force. Scott
Mils addressed his men. Can Greek or
Roman story a fliird a parabel !
ignominious surrender," he said, "must he
retrieved. Let its, then, die arms in hand.;
thir country demands the sari-slice. The!
example will not lie lost. The blood off
the skint will make heroes of the living.—
VI! hu is ready tor the sacrifice?"
surrender was retrieved—their gallantry
did wipe out dial stain—the first and last
—of our country ; but Scott because the
prisoner of the foe; and, amid the perils I
and privations of such a captivity, our
rounded by British tyrants and lathe's as
sassins, he filled the first measure of his
sacrifices for his country. Fur this, I
ask voles for the patriot, and inquire, in
his own words at Queenstown, "Are you
ready ?"
Again Scott was free—again at the head
of a gallant band of lreemen—and again
belore a superior force of the enemy ; for
his have been no holiday achievements;
every laurel leaf on Isis brow has cost a
death struggle. Lundy's Lane is one of
the best fought fields in history. The sun
went down upon the conflict, and the night
wore on—the harvest moon struggling
through the clowded heavens and fitfully
lighting up the ,field where Death was the
only reaper; and yet volley answered vol
ley, deafening Niagara ; and the clash of
bayonetd, and the shrieks and shouts ofihe
combatants, still made night hideous.—
Scott was the very spirit of the battleetorm.
Ilia tall form was,seen, crimson with blood.
in every desperate eddy of the fight, and
his clarion voicewas heard above the wild
est din of the conflict. lie throttled victo
ry, and conquered sgainsilate. And when,
covered with wounds supposed to be mor
tal, he fell, his last orders were to charge,
and his last effort a murmured shout of
victory. For this, I ask your voter. Let
the people give but one suffrage for' each
red tirop,thei,Then gushed from his gelled
bosom—poured out for them and theirs—
and the debt of gratitude. will, at -least in
part, be paid ; posterity will do the rest.
I have no time to follow Scott up to the
period of the Mexican war. Forty years
of service in camp and council have pass
ed over him; but the vow of the youthful
enthusiast is still the rule of the hoary pat
4401—lie is still and ever all his country's.
Glorious deeds had been drive on the Rio
Grande and in Northern Mexico; but the
nation had advanced not a step towards
the achieveinent of a peace. Gen. Scott
proposed a renewal of the adventurous
mewl of Cornea; but thescene had chang
ed, and where the Spanish vessels had
moved peaceably, the castle of San Juan
SOM. frovrned aefianee ; and, instead of!
friendly Tlasealans and foible Aztecs, the;
American General must encounter an arm
ed and Powerful empire, a country impreg
nable by nature, skilfully fortified, slid
I ably and obstinately defended. 'l'tu dilh
copies seemed insuperable, and his project
was denounced as
..romantic madness.--
Mime!eon . once disclosed a military plan
to one of his staff; "It is impossible"—
said his friend. "I NM no means of its
achietrentent." Napoleon led him to a,
window, and pointing to the glowing, mid
day sky, asked—"Do you see thitt star ?"
"No," was the reply. "I dit," said the
Emperor, and it was hie only answer.—
Gen. Scott thus saw the star, hidden from
feebler-visions, which was to light and
guide him on his path of glory. The Ad.
ministration long withheld their sanction ;
i but they had no other hope ; Scott alone
could save them ; and at length they growl
ingly, seceded. For that plan, so full of
genius and wisdom, nuw the glory of our
history and the wonder of the world, and
for its sole author. Winfield Scott, do I ask
your gratitude and support.
I will not charaiterize that camplign
—I cannot; but you have it—the . world
has itiby heart. Never was Me 'prescient
and comprehensive weight of human gen
ins more wonderfully displayed than by
Scott in its preparation and ezettution:=
Every difficulty was forseen, every con
tingency provided for. This plan was
worked out like a problem in Euclid.,—
But we cannot follow him in his eagle
flight from.the surf to the Gulf, to the
bowed towers of Vera Cruz, and the start
led cliffs of Cerro Gordo, from miracle to
miracle, from victory to victory, over
conquered impossibilities and crushed
thousands, to the captured Capital.—
But you will remember the universal atm.
iety felt her, at home, when he descended
into the valleyoliklexico ; when, his com
munications destroyed, • his army distil).
peered among the enemies ten-fold its su
perior in all save courage end conduct.—
Weeks and weeks elapsed, and not a word
was heard of them. The suspense
grew agonizing. We watched—as friends
watch the dark waves in which a darling
diver has plunged, but from which he does
not emerge. White lip? whispered, "Is he
lost t—has he perished 1" And the re
sponse was, "how eau it be otherwise,
with a force so inadequate. against elm, so
formidable!" At length, 'when over
wrought terror became despair, the tidings
burst upon us—a torrent of glory I Con
treras, Churubusco, Moline tertrey were
won, and how fluttered our flags, how blaz
ed our bon-fires, and how uprose Your
bilollur. again and again, when we learned
that our noble little army bivouacked in
the plaza of the Capital; and beneath the
Stars and Stripes. as they waved above the
triumphs of Cortez. stood Winfield Scott,
the laurelled conqueror of Mexfoo ! I
stand beneath that banner now—a bright.
er glory has ever since gleamed from its
stare ; and pointing to those fields of fame. -
I ask, in the name and by the authority of
those achievements. unequalled in gran
deur and glory, I ask your votes lur Gen.
Scott.
11 is impossible briefly to sketch that
campaign. Its battles are so many and
glorious; that they mingle their light, as
the stars which form the galaxy melt to
gether and cast a stream of glory across
the heavens. But this is Cherubusco's
day ; and the Nation, in all time,
"Will wand a tip-toe when this day is named."
Insteati of one hattle, its achievements
comprise five distinct battles and five illus
trious victories. Time looks back upon
no such one tla4. Our army was but 8,-
800 strong. and was engaged hotly on foot
and horseback, in the open field, and be
fore the strongest fortifications, with 32,-
000 men, well disciplined, armed and com
manded. It niade 3000 prisoners, and
killed and wounded 4000 of the enemy !
Any one of those five victories—brilliants
gloriously strung •together and radiantly
boned upon the fair brow of our country
—any one would have struck the world
with wonder ; together, they stagger ere
dolity..and raise a monument of American
heroism that will stand till our mountains
melt Into plain. We meet to celebrate
that victory of victories. and we cannot
forget the patriot hero to whom we owe it
—who never doubted and never erred—
who stumbled and never fainted—a
"the noble nature."—(l quote the poet lit
erally.)
"Whom ;melon could not Asko; whose solid
virtue
The shot of satideal, nor daft of chow*,
Could neither true nor Piers."
Had the life of Scott known but that
one day of glory, for that alane I would
ask, and you could not, in justice and grat
ktude, deny your suffrages.
And how were dose services. countless
and inestimable. rewarded' Who does not
blush over that page of ourltiotory 1 The
veteran victor was stripped of the command
of that army he had led in triumph..-was
accused and treated as a malefactor. and
was dragged to a shameful trial tor - the
high offence—it was his only one—of hav
ing covered his country with glory. And
what did the hero—at the head of a vic
torious and devoted army—under this mi
precedented outrage and wrong 1 Liop
like to the foe, he was meek and low
ly to the laws and authorities of his coun
try. Themagnanimity of Ageailaus. of
Hannibal and of Delegacies, in bowing to
a harsh authority and resigning a career
of glory. has been applauded to-the echo I
but even more illustrious was the noble
submission of our own great-hearted pat
riot. for his was a deeper and a darker
wrong. His example in deference to the
law is more glorious and of montsubstan,
teal value than even his victories—and it itf
for you to reward it. The ereelty of that
deliberate wrong to proud and lofty iugp•
mice. it is yours to redress; the reproarsh
of that base ingratitude to a national bene
factor. it is yours t tp wipe away. And
therefore do 1 ask your votes for Winfield
Scott.
Pending that persecution. Scott WAS
visited by a temptation, which who' but
Scott would have restated.? The, people
of Mexico. appreciating ate virtues even
of a foe. offered him a million and a quer.
ter of dollars in cash and the chief maps.
tracy of the country. They asked no
wrong to his own overnment. Com.
Porter had establi s he d a precedent of ac
ceptance. Scutt was perbecuted—his life
long devotion rewarded with &Paco^
TWO DOLLARS PILAIDIMI4"
INUMBER 26.
this would redrees him. Like Aristidor r
his probity in office had kept him poor—
this
would enrich him. Hie Foes hid . ;
stnpped him of his station—this, would
confer a loftier one—a place among prima,-
Of course he accepted art offers() brilliant t
Why should he not ? Far from is. Ho
at least hesitated ? Not a moment. "My
life"—such was his sublime answer—“be.
lungs to my country. I would rather be
her humble servitor than the monarch of
earth's richest empire. Discarded, I will
mill cling to her ; persecuted, wronged.
requitted with contumely and disgrace, it
.will yet be my glory to love and cherish
him; to serve and softer, to live and die
for her." Is not this man worthy of your
votes Would you be worthy of him. if
you denied them ? For this I ask your
suffrage.
Glorious as has been hie military career,
the civil life and services of Scott equally
claim your admiration and gratitude. He
is, and has ever been, the friend and ad
vocate of Peace. His letter to the Peace
Conventiee..nyews his opposition to un
necessary War, and his life approves that
profession.. You remember the Canada .
Rebellion. Our neighbors struck for In
dependence, a cause to which American
hearts must give a throb and thrill of sym
pathy. The sympathy was met by Brit
ish arrogance, and an American boat was
fired by an invading soldiery in an Ameri
ican port. and sent, while the flames rose
above the bodies -of slaughtered Ameri
cans, down-the Niagnra and over the cat
' erect. The war spirit on the frontier shot
up like a bale fire. Collision seemed in
evitable. What politician, what diploma
tist was then found adequate to the crisis ?
Scott alone was considered, by a Demo
credo administration, capable of averting
the storm. He did avert it. Without ar
my, without aid, singly, by dint of his own
wisdom and eloquence, he saved the court-
try from a war which, had it come, would
have strained her every sinew to cracking..
Mid mail- her svery pore sweat blood.—
Which of your boasted civilians can point
to such a triumph 7, I ask, for that tri
umph,yritir votes.
Again. on Northeastern frontier, in
1889, the freezes of England and of this
country Were actually is, the field against
each other: • One drop of blood then shed,
would have sluiced seas of blood. Again
Demorratic administration has recourse
to the civil abilities Of Scott-14 who then
dared doubt them And again he averted
the (extinct, extorting. by his talents andtri
umph, the applause of all parties,and con
firming in both coronae, his title as the
Greal,Panykalor., Iq this. chat -timer, as
the Apostle of Peace, and for these servi-,
ces, do I aik your votes tor Gen. Scott.
The time-honored patriot chain). Our
reverence as the champion of the Union , ,
—its earliest, steadiest, and stauncliest.:....
No spot of the nation, no North, no Saab,
no East, no West, ran claim him es its
own. His patriotic life has been spread,,
like sun-light, all over the land he has foe.
ed, and served so long and , In fdat ,
youth, when the North plotted treason tit
Hartford, he shamed the rnalecoment spin;
it back to its den, by the glory ltii vie
tories on the fine. In after years, When
the South renewed the dark eximPle of
Charleston, with nullification, lie:was a
gain interposed to save the Union. The •
patriot Jacksou was then at the heed of;:
the government ; and in that dark !mat t ,.
for it was as dark sti another night piled
upon midnight, where did he look for ono'
whose lofty civil and military mialitleti . and,;
devoted patriotism lie could trust to' avert
fratermil war? Our land had many great
men; but Ids sagacity directed kite,
Scott. He sent him to the scene oret
eitement and Ilanger ; and with hit : Mani
band upon the hetet, all was. safe. 1.14
first intellects of the nation nnited 'in sp.,"
pistoling his invaluable services ; and the
magnanimous Jackson, through' the Bee'`
rotary of War: - Gert. Cass, expressed' his
high admiration and acknowledged • his
profoundiratitude and that of the Country.
Will any 13,emocrat deny the merit which'
Jackson applauded or withhold the grit:
itude which he bestowed? Under the' '
sanction, then, of the great name of A,ndietir
Jackson. I sok your votes for: GeO.Seott.
And in the latest peril of the Union,
where was Gen. Scott t Earliest by the
side of its noblest defender, the illeettiotte
Henry Clay—Clay; whose pure and
mighty spirit, when it had achieved its hot
and loftiest triumph, bore on high to Wadi
iegton the glad tidings that his country
was saved. By the side of Clay. Scott
labored earnestly and effectively, day and
night, for the feomprundee, and when it'
passed, he received for his early, ardent
and constant championship, the thaaks of 9
the departing patriot. For that . threotirin
to the Union which merited avid Won •
Clam's admiration and gratitude, I< aik`
Such has been the entire arse, offilodli
--ever the friend of pestle, of Union, of
humanity. Oar greatest Warrior is our
Calmest sage. Our bravest hero is the.
gemlest, most-humane of men, one who
would not win the laurels that hid the bald
first ctesar's brow. at the price of one on.
necessary tear. That • spirit made him
the father of his soldiers, and even the pit.
ying friend of a conquered foe. Witness
the Cholera scenes in the camp at Chicago*
when pestilence smote the army, and those
who braved death at the cannon's mouth,
ged.appalled from this new horror. Scott
was their General. not their surgeon; of
course. lie retired to safer quartets, end -
left the sick and dying to the care of those
who provided for the duty ? Ho was its.
capable of the thought. Let us look its
upon one. of the scenes then so frightfully ,
common. On the asked floor of one et
the army huts is stretched a dying soldier.
deserted by all, save one. for it is the site
µmath' of death—death in a timid sir...
death in the shrieks of the convulsed mat;
erers--death it, the fixed distortions of
those who have ceasitim suffer t yet thsss,
i n th a t n oses of eccumulated hornets,*
form bends over a dying soldier. heat*st
cup to his ashy lips, and utters woods or
kindness in tones of cheerful riostioledook.
It is too late; the sufferer givimploble els*
t it tering friend a last sad message Ow bkt►
dimwit family ;
,graites. 40011* up,