•elves, it was no longer possible for any Christian nation to take sides against us. It Was tlie turning point of our great Struggle and the death warrant of the rebellion itself. Audit was just, because they felt and knew it, thafc it mused among its ruling spirits all the devli-h passions that flawed out most fiercely du ring the latter period of the war. It foreshadowed the appearance of the black man himself, at no distant ' ay, with the harness of the I ition on his back, as a combatant in the arena on the side of liberty. From that day forward, with only the occasional vicissitudes to which all wars are subject, the banner ot the Republic, with its new blar-onry of Free dom, never blooded or wcut backward in battle. God was on our side. The holi day generals, great on the parade—the strategic imbeciles—the half hearted martinets-who were more solicitous to protect the chattel, thau to punish the treason of the master, gave place to a raceof earnest men. heroes of the Croui weilliau type—who felt the inspiration of their work, and with a faith that no re verses could shake, and no disaster dis turb, were ever ready to second or antici pate the fiery ardor of their legions, by giving a full rein to the spirit that had ehaffod and fretted under inglorious res traint, whether it was to plunge into the fastnesses of the Rapidan, to scale the Alpine passes of the Tennessee, or to sw«ep with resistless force across the sun ny plains of Georgia. The rebellion was doomed, and the baleful star that had rushed up with the velocity of a meteor into the forehead of the sky, and shed its portentous glare for a moment upon the nations,plunged down again into eter nal night, to be remembered hereafter only as one of those scourges of humani ty, that are sometimes let loose upon the earth for high and inscrutable purposes. But it is uot for me to follow the histo ry of this long *nd blooily struggle thro all its varying fortunes to the period of its final consummation. That is a task which belongs to the historian. It has some points of interest, however, that are not unworthy of commemoration, and not unsuitcd to the occasion that has brought us here. Thescene that has just pns-ed teforeour i Tision, was such as has been presented to no other generation of luen. Few of us have perhaps fully realized Ihe impor tance -f the part that has been assigned to us in history. The records of our race have nothing to offer so grand and impo sing as this bloody conflict in its magni tude, its causes, its theatre, end its details. A peaceful nation, schooled only in the arts of quiet industry, entirely unfa miliar with the use of arms, holding itself aloof from the political complications of the old world, and but thinly diffused over half a continent—imagining no evil, and fearing none from others—is sudden ly startled from its repose by thebl..st of the trumpet, ami the roll of the martial drum, and summoned to the detense ot its institutions, its liberties, its very life, against a wicked conspiracy, organized in its own bosom for the purpose ot des troying it. It not only responds to the call, but astonishes the world by an ex hibition of unanimity and zeal, and high religions fervor, which have had no ex ample since the era of the Crusades. In utter forgetfulness of itself, of danger, and of the comforts and endearments of home, it covers the earth with its living tides, as it rushes to the rescue cf the object of its love. Over a region almost as wide as the united Kingdoms, of Eu rope, a million of brave hearts are mar shalled in armed array, with implements of destruction, such as no age hath seen. Along the Atlantic coast, across the great rivers, and the boundless prairies of the mighty West, over the swamps and sa vannahs of the distant South, through forest, brake and wilderness, through ~ * , --»«« over rugged mountains, and along the cultivated plains that laugh with the abundance with which industry has covered them—the earth shakes will the tread of embattled hosts, while b and gulf swarm with innumerable pro*, and the shores against which the tid of two oceans break, are belted arounr with those levithans of the deep, whie ' )ear our thnnders, aud are destined M'eafter to proclaim our power in the remotest seas. It is the battle of the 'Jtans, with fitring accessories, with list? scarce less ample, with enginery as complete, «nd npon a theatre almost as stupendous as that which the genius of Milton Aas as signed to the armies of angel iV*d arch angel joined in Kittle for the Supremacy of Heaven The old world, till now ig norant of the power th it-Vlad been sleep ing here, stands amazed at an exhibition which its united Ki*gdouis would in vain essay to match, it comprehends at once the whole significance of the struggle It is the world's battle—the same that has been fought so often with other watch words, and on other fields—the old conflict between untagi nistic social forms—between the peopleand the Kings —between the privileges of caste, and the Republican idea of equality. It feels that the intere.-ts of all its ancient, and hoary and moss-grown (S.ablishments— its thrones and hierarchies alike—resting on the proscription of a thousand years, and buttressed by the still older tiadi tional idea, that man is unfit to govern himself, are stacked on the issue of this eontest. It sees, or thinks it sees, in the martial array of the disciplined le gions of the Confederacy, inflated with pride, and sneering at the base-born hinds and greasy mechanics of the Free States, the impersonation of the mailed chivalry who rode down the miserable Jacquerie of France five hundred years ago For getful of its treaties of commerce aud amity—oblivious even of its own appar ent interests in the maintenance of due" authority and subordination between gov ernment and subject—ignoring alike the usages and customs, and comity of na tions, it does not find patience even to await the issue of a battle. The disrup tion of th.is great Republic, the standing reproach and menace of Royalty in all its 112 rine, is assumed as a fact accom plished, upon this mistaken view, and the additional postulate of its statesmen, that a structure like our own, however pros perous or formidable against external violence, is without the power of self preservation, and must inevitably perish on the internal convulsion. It does not «v*n atop to enquire into the special provocation, if any, for this wanton aud wicked rebellion against authority and humanity. Professing to make war against the slave trade, denouncing it as piracy, and employing fleets for its sup pression, it does not even revolt at the unexampled, and atrocious, and anti christiau idea of a government, boldly and shamelessly declaring its only purpose to be the perpetuation of human bondage, an organized piracy, and a systematic at tack upon the rights of man. In its anxiety to aid the eause on which its own institutions are depending it hurries with an indecent precipitancy into the recog nition of a belligerency, that will enable it to serve the interest in which it dares uot venture openly to draw its sword, by throwing wide its posts to the privateers of the enemy, anil fitting out its own cruisers tv prey upon our commerce on the sea. Its governmental press, aided by its hireling scribblers here, is pros tituted to the base employment of show ing the inevitable failure of our great experiment, by maligning our brave de fenders, and libelling our sainted Presi dent. Its Ministers at our uwn Capital, prompted by the same instincts, and sym pathizing openly with our enemies, and equally ignorant of the people to whom they are accredited, advise their sover eign, aud are allowed to proclaim here openly without rebuke, that our career as a nation is at an end, and inwardly re joice with them that a power declared by theuiselues to be too formidable for the world's peace, and too formidable to be safelv met either upon the sea or up on the land, by their united strength, has perished miserably ly intestine strife— the supposed inherent and unavoidable disease of the Republics of all times. How great has been its error? How disappointed all its flattering prognostica tions? How utterly has all its boasted wisdom been confounded by events ? How deeply does it uow tremble in the presence of the great fact which it is yet reluctant j to acknowledge, that this nation, with all j the sympathies of the governments of the j world against it, has proved us indestruc- ' tibility, by a trial which no European ! State could have i.utlived ? But how in expressibly grand and sublime—whnt a spectacle for men and angels, has been tlie attitude of this people throughout the i fiery trials of these four eventful years! I What a theme for an epic such as Milton or Tasso might have written—the great j Republic of the Western Hemisphere— : the world's last champion—charged with | the loftiest interests that ever were com- J milted to the guardianship of m«n —bolt- ' ed around by enemies, open and secret, j who were thirsting for its destruction— | torn by intestirte strife, and bleeding at | every pore —without the sympathy of any j one "of the ruling powers of earth, and j with no help, but the prayersof the faith ! ful few, in all lands, who looked upon its star as the last hope of the oppressed— standing alone like a solitary rock in the ocean, with the tempests howling wildly around it, but flinging off the angry surj ges which Jash and break against its sid'' I and bearing aloft with intrepid and "ij faltering hand, amid the wild elemental war, the broad ensig'' ' Fathers —the pledge of f'reedr. unl " j versal man! If the enemie ' ' er j i now tremble in our prese e ' I,s j ~ > i 1 ,» resentment, more from the dread o . , ' i i.i i i . i ...cen justly mer which they feel to have . , , * rehenston of the - ited, than from an t- . . . , 1 ,Sublime lession ot • consequences ot tIK . ... , ' , , ..iTiudself-sacrifice.and t constancy, and tut' ... , - , which we have given • persevering courr , . . B I .. ..luuhout a contest com- i - to the world, » . , . , i ircumstances the most ad i meuced unde , , . . ... , ecuted by the people them versc.and p ,s « J selves w' n, " ro royal muniu 'L " ' essentially their war. and the : cencc, a , , first i,, tor y l ' lat *' as been so recogni -1 Z ' jfio aspect of the whole ease, were prudence and lofty patriot j • i of our great leader more strongly ex jiplified, than in the forbearance and moderation with which he ignored these transparent evidences of unfriendliness on part of foreign governments, aggravated as they were by the most indecent person al attacks upon himself. Without per sonal resentments, and great enough to despise abuse, even if he had felt it, he knew that the success of our struggle was i the best answer that could be made to those who wished us ill. He is already i avenged in the only way in which his great heart would have desired it. The bloody catrstrophc that hurried him from ; our sight, has flashed upon Ihe European world with a suddenness that lias swept down the barrieri of prcjud ee, and ext ir i ted even from his enemies the confesssion, : that in him a truly great man—of the pure American type—of far-reaching sa- I gacity—of unexampled modesty and mod eration.—has fallen. The powers oY lan guage almost (ail to convey their now ex alted sense of the highsouled magnani mity with which he has forborne to re spond in kind, to the many provocations that have been offered He is pronoun ced by great authority in England " a king of men"—not in the Homeric sense, as used in relereuee to the Argive Chief— not because, like the wrathful Achilles, whose ire was fruitful of unnumbered woes, he was— " injpiger, iracnntlns, Intxortbilla, Ker," but beoause ho was precisely the opposite of all these—peace loving and placable, even to a fault. It stands admited, that no word of his can now be found in all his foreign intercourse, to convey a men ace or reproach. And then his exalted benevolence of heart—his moderation in the hour of victory, the greatest—the en tire absence of all natural exultation over a fallen foe—these, these, are confessed to be so rare, as to take him out of the roll of vulgar conquerors, and lift him high above the.ordinary level of human j ity.. It cost hiin botliing. however, to ior- I givfe, or even to eompassionate an enemy. He was indeed much bettet fitted for the ! office of a meaiattmptilaß the function of i a Jmlje. Jt would have wrung his more than woman's heart to have been compel led even to do exception upon the guilti- the conspirators, as it did to put his naumto the warrant that consigned the spy, or the deserter t# eternity. In thus according to him the '4la!m of magnani mity—which is onfj** another word for grvutnes* of soul, as its Etymology implies —the highest eulogy lias been pronoun ced oi> him that mortal lips could utter His moderation iu victory yas but parti awl pared oi the aaiushigh attriiiiUe.- Nor is to l>e forgotten while making these admissions. that there were other circumstances connected with this rebel lion that put this high quality to the se verest proof, ami rendered it impossible to indulge a sentiment so elevated and en nobling, '.vithout great peril to the general cause. Though war is, in all its aspects, even the most favorable, the direst scourge that J'rovidence has ever permitted to af flict the earth, it has no form so hideous as the inte_stine strife that arrnvs brother against brother, and arms the father against the son in murderous conflict, and doubly intensities by its very unnaturalness, all the brutal and atrocious passions of our iolleti nature. The family quarrel is pro verbial for its bitterness, while the odium thfologicum is the stereotyped but feeble expression of the rancor which has some times crept into the controversies ol even ; christian men. In the present case, how ever, there was a feature superadded on the one side, that lent ten-fold additional horror to the contest. The institution of human Slavery, the prolific source of all our woes, tracked into the palatial man sions of the lordly proprietors by a Nem esis which always follows upon the heels of a great wrong—as though Providence intended that Nature violated should al ways vindicate herself had expelled from them every broad fraternal feeling— all that recognized the eonimon brother hood of humanity—and ended by unsex ing the women, and making wolves and tigers of the men. All that was said of that institution, sometimes blasphemously mis-named d.vine, by the author of the great Declaration himself, had been al ready realized in the temper and condi tion of Southern society. To speak of these as barbarous, in the language of a learned and eloquent New England Sen ator, was.in the judgment of the more charitable jyid fastidious here, an offense against good taste and truth, that was | thought by them to have deserved the | telon blow that proved it to be true. The picture drawn by him was supposed by | many to be greatly over charged. How ! inadequately he portrayed its hideous as j pect. is now seen in its conduct of thi' I devastating war, which it has forced u r 11 ] the country, and under which it ha' l,ur " j ricd itself,thank God !so deep, tb' ltc:ln i produce no future eruption, eve' turn " i ing uneasily in its grave. |j*» nevei en gendered such a monster, th woman to the waist and fair" a,, ier wh ° Silt j Portress at its gates, pere «s no page ;of history so dark ac d «™ n ' n K " s th » which will fecord th * u ." dl " h . ■trowt.es o ! which it has W, guilty in an age o l.ght. The hi''? cJ™ °f. the bones of : Union soldier 1 1 , ' tt v > ! le : u4l "» ! the soil wb ? fe". '»"> personal or , .. the delicate fingers ol high- I nameufs t . , . » . " ii o .hern dailies, or driukiug cups for born Sr . . «., 112 their ,lva ' ruU3 braves—the mutilation of the ' r P ße *t' l ® uncodified dead—the i blooded and systematic starvation, j id butchery of prisoners of war—the ef forts to destroy, by wholesale, railroad trains, filled with innocent women and children—the employment of hired incen diaries to swing the midnight torch over the spires ot sleeping cities—the invoca tion of the pestilential agencies oi the miasma of the Southern swamps—and the diabolical, though unsuccessful attempt to inoculate our seaboard towns with the deadly virus of the plague—all are but episodes in the bloody drama that culmin ated in the assassination of the President. Jhe can»ibal of the South Sea Islands, and the savage of the American forests, who dances around the blazing faggots, that encircle and consume his victim,have been over matched in cold-blooded inge nuity of torture, by the refined barba rians—the Davis' and Lee's and other "honorable and christian" gentlemen, who have inspired and conducted this revolt, tiod will witness for the North, that with all these inhuman provocations, and with a necessity that seemed almost inevitable, of putting an cud to horrors silch as these, by a system of just and exemplary retalation,it has dealt with these great criminals with a degree oi' forbear ance that has no example, and has but too often been mistaken by them for want of spirit, and a wholesome fear of their great |r>wiss. hen they went oi t, hey were but. wayward children, and wo en treated them kindly. To spare their blood, we permitted them to envelope our defenses at Sumter, without resistance, when we could have easily prevented it. To keep the peace with them, we hesita ted even to victual its starving garrison When wc were smitten, we did not even smite them in return. It was only when they Hung insult and defiance at our country's flag; that we felt our pulses quicken, and our blood kindling into flauie. But even then, we could not ful ly realize that they were indeed our ene mies. Our camps were closed against their slaves. Their officers when ca| tur ed were treated with a distinction that made th in feel that tlicy had done no wrong, and dismissed on their paroles of honor, although they had been guilty of a base desertion of our flag. Their men were fed and clothed, and afterwards ex changed as prisoners of war. And for much of this feeling thsy were indebted to the temper of the President, who held in check the impetuous ardor of the North and incurred the risk of alienating his most steadfast friends, by a moderation so unusual in stormy time.< There was no |>eriod indeed 111 which he would not have opened his anus to receive them back, without humiliation to themselves and with the welcome that was accorded to the repentant and returning prodigal. His last expressions in regard to them were kind ; his last measures intended to smooth the way for their return. And in recompense for all this, "with wicked hands they slew h m"—their best frieud —just when his heart was overflowing with mercy and forgivness for themselves. He had not learned—because his was not, a nature to believe—that no kind ness could Boften, or reclaim the leaders of this unholy rebellion. It was not a crime only, but a b/um/rr the most seri ous on their part. Whether actuated by private malice, or stimulated by public ends, there was no time at which the blow that struck him down, could have been dealt with less advantage to their cause, and so little personal detriment to tlf he had survived, he eoold not, 5 course of nature, have looked for years ef lite, and might hlfve lived t» die«p|>«itrt--1-he expectnthms of his friends, in what would probitly have proved the most difficult part of his ta.sk. by a policy of mercy that would have brought no peace. The suppression of the rebellion was but the first step in the process of restoration. With the odds so largely in our favor, there could not at anv time have existed any rational doubt »*to the contest, under any rational direction. It was not so much the war. us the fence, which was to follow, that was dreaded by the wise. To suppress an armed rebellion was one thing: tore construct a government, resting not on force, but on co-operative wills, was another and a higher task. The one called only for material agents : the other deaninded the ripest wisdom of the statesman. The sword was the iustrnment of the former : a keener,subtler, and mightier instrument was required for the latter. It is not impossible that President Lincoln, with all his great qualities, might have failed at this point. If stern rigor and exem' plary justice, if the confiscation ot the property, or the exile or disfranchisement of the leaders of this wicked revolt, the dark nssassius of our peace—if an abso lute refusal to treat with those miscreants at all—were essential to the permanent restoration of peace and harmony in the land—as they are believed by many men to be —there was at least room for appre hension that the kind and gentle spirit, the broad, Catholic charity of our dead President would have unfitted him for the task. It was a remark of one of the Q eeks. thu no man was happy, or suret 112 posthumous renown, until the grave had closed upon him. Abraham Lincoln s work was done, and done successfully.— lie had disappointed nobody in the I Free States, except the enemies who had hoped to rob /nm of the glory, and the country of the pi vantage of finishing up a task which t,ie y now beyond the reach of censure-/ 1 " unfriendly criticism, with bis r(.con'' ,lUl ' e U P f° r history—honored and as no man was ever before him embalmed in the heart of a nation t [, i has followed him to his tomb; doub y endeared to them by the cause in which lie died—by his death as well as by his life; and surrounded by a halo that has invested him with a world-wide fame. (ir : eve not then for him. The blow that took him from our arms was but his passport for immortality. The nation has lost a President, but Abraham Lin coln has won an imperishable crown. The time is now to subject the minute details of his administration to searching oiticism. That men should differ in re gard to this, or the other measures of his policy, is not unreasonable. It was his fortune, as might have been expected of a cautious man.in a revolutionary era, to find himself occasionally at variance with his friends, as well as with his enemies. If he was sometimes too conservative for the former, he was always too radical for the latter, and was stire therefore to se cure the good will of neither ; but he yielded slowly to the indications of pub lic opinion, which hefnt/owet/ only, and did not /end. and was generally sure in the end to bring the extremes into har mony, by disappointing both, and to find the public mind prepared to approve his acts. He explored his ground with care and having leached his conclusion at last by long and patient thought, he stood up on it with a firmness that nothing could shako. With liini there was* 110 step backward Having ouce planted him self on the ground of emancipation, as a necessity of.State, by a process of labor ious induction, lie never afterward lost sight ot that object, and never faltered in the execution of his plans. Adopted only as a mentis, because the restoration of the Union was his only < »</, it became at last so far an end, that he refused even to treat for that restoration upon any oth er condition than the absolute extinction of slavery, to which he now stood pledged before the world* It was partly because he then occt.}» el aslwd point that opened to him a wider and more compveh. nsive field of vision, and enabled him to see tlia* the Union could really be saved upon no other terms, than those of absolute ju-ticc to the black man. The public mind had ripened with his own under the torrid atmosphere of revolution. The acts of his administration aie, however, to be estimated in the light of the ex ceeding novelty, and the great responsi bilities of his position. It is no fault of his, even if a bolder policy might have resulted in earlier success Men are al ways wise after the fact, but in his posi tion, with the fate of a nation in his bunds, there wF* no place for rash exper iments, and he night well decline to take the risks, which others, without responsi bility themselves, might have insisted on in opposition to the opinions of advisers, who were supposed to be better schooled in the affairs of nations than himself. And yet few men have understood the people better than Abraham Lincoln. With no advantages of education what ever, bis associations had been more with men than books. His thought and style of expression all bear tho impress of that early school. His ideas flowed in the same channel as theirs. No man was more at home with them, or better under stood the art of winning their confidence, just because the recognized the relation ship. and felt that his heart, pulsated in un'son with their own. His mind and character were indeed the natural growth of our free institutions, and he was so eminently a represcntatve of them, that no oilier country could have produced ; his couuterpart. A higher culture would only have disguised the nran by paring down the rough edgfs, and wearing the individuality that so much distinguish ed him. Condemned to wrestle with pov-; erty from the outlet, he was indebted, no doubt, for a large share of the robust vig or of bis genius to that, healthy develop ment, which results from a successful struggle with the accidents of fortune. Thus educated, ho owed nothing of his success in life to the cultivated manner, or the bland and insinuating address, the ready coin of society, which the people are so often willing to accept as substi tutes for learning and ability, and to which so many of our public men are iudebteif for their personal popula'ity, and their great success in thearenaof politic;. It would be difficult to fin 1 a man more unsymmetrically put together, or more essentially awkward and ungainly irrhis personal presence. It would be be still j itmrc difficTrfrtoUnd a man so free from 1 all pretensidu, so plain and simple and ait less in his manner, and with so little ; apparent consciousness of the important part that he was enacting or the greut i power that he had been called upon to : wield. The necessities of State cereuio- i uial. the ordeal of a public receptioh, were obviously the things that lie most dreaded and disliked. It was impossible for ono who knew him well, to look upon him there, or in a scene like that which atten lid his last Iruaguration at the Capitol surrounded us he was, by the Ambassadors of all the crown ed heads of Christendom, glittering in tho gay tinsel and the heraldic insignia of their several orders, with a thousand bright eyes directed from the galleries upon that assuming uiau—himself the central figure of the groupe —without feeling that he was under a constraint of posture, that did violence to his nature, and was as painful as it wasemberrasjiug. The expression of his countenance, on such occasions, was one of sadness and abstraction from the scene around him,— except when seme familiar face was rec ognized and greeted in the throng that crowded to take him by the hand. It was ouly in the retirement of his own private audience-chamber-that the whole man shone out, and that he could be said to be truly himself. And there, with a perfect abandon of manner, surrendering himself without constraint, to just such posture, however grotesque or inelegant, as was most agree able to himself, feeling that the eye of tin world was no longer on him, aud forget ting that he was the ruler of a mighty nS tion, at a time of unoxauipled anxiety and peril, his eye and lip wou.d light up with an expression of sweetness that was inef fable, while he interested and amused his auditor, by the ease and freedom of his conversation, and the inexhaustible fund of anecdote with which be enriched his discourse, and so aptly and so strikingly illustrated the topics that he discussed.— Tncy err greatly, however, who suppose in him any undue loiity of manner, or assign to him the creditof having been a •jabitual joker. If be told a story —and it was perhaps of his early life and expe rience—it either pointed a moral, or win ged a thought to the mark at which it was aimed—and left it there, lie was not long in divining the true characters of his visitors, and if he indulged in pleasan tries, it was either to gratify their tastes, or to parry the impertinences to which lie was so frequently subjected. Peculiari ties so striking as those of Abraham Lin coln are always singled out for broad car icature. A common face or character is altogether unfitted for the purpose. Hut like many men who have acquired a rep utation for sprightliness a id humor, the cost of his mind was deeply serious.— With the grave and earnest who came to discourse with hi in on important matters of State, be was always up to the height of that great argument; and there are few men Jiving, with his imperfect training, and so little acquaintance with books, who can express their thoughts with more clearness, or force, or propriety of speech, than himself. He talked as he wrote, and the world knows with what original ity, and precision, and felicity id' phrase without a model or a master—lie dealt with the many perplexing questions that were presented to hint. His style was in deed sui i/eheris. Everything ho wrote has the marks of his paternity so strong impressed upon it, that the authorship cannot lie possibly be mistaken. Nobody could imitate l ini; "nobody but himself could be his parallel." lie had mu«h of the geuius of Swift, without any of his cynicism. Without polish or elegance, there was, however, an elevation of tone —a vein of deep faith, and of high re ligious trust, pervading some of his State papers, and especially, his last inaugural adiircss, that have placed the hitter, in the judgment of some of the best Euro pea 11 scholars, far above the range of crit icism. Hut his crowniog attribute —tho one that won for him so a place iri the hearts ol the people—so much more of the true affection than has be<yi ever in spired by the exploits of the successful warrior—was the large humanity (hat dwelt in that gentle bosom, which knew ri<> resentments, and was ever open to the appeals of suffering. No feeling of re venge found a lodgment there. No stormy passion stirrcvJ the quiet depths, or swept the even surface of his tranquil temper. No wife or mother, who had be/ged her way to Washington to ask tho pardon of an erring husband, or tho dis' charge of a wounded or a dying son. was ever refused an audiance, or ever retired from that presence without invoking Heav en's ehoisest blessings on the head of the good President, who could refuse uoth iug to a women's tears. The wives and UJ ithers of America have just paid back the tribute of their overflowing hearts io the floods of sorrow with which they have deluged his grave, if he had a weakness it was here, but it was such a weakness as angels might confess, and history will not care to extenuate. That his good nature was sometimes imposed I upon is not improbable. For times and places such as his, a man of sterner mould is sometimes absolutely necessary. It is greatly to be doubted whether th at, gentle heart could ever hive have been persua ded to pronounce the de-erved doom up' on the guiltiest of the traitors. The crushing appeal of the wife and mother would hav . melted down his stoicism, like wax before the fire. His last Cab inet conversation, as officially reported to us, was full of teuderness and charity even for the rebel General, who had abandoned our flag and connived at the butchary of our prisoners, 'ihe word was scarcely uttered, bcfoie the gates of mercy were closed with impetuous recoil, and the gentle minister, who would have Ann;: thcui wide, was removed forever, to give place to the inexorable judge. The aw ful form of justice now appears upon tho scene, to deal with those whim mercy could not tnolify, while a world does born age to the great heart, that is forever at rest. Yes! Abraham Lincoln rests. "After life's fitful fever he sleeps well." His work on earth is done. No couch of ro ses, or bed of luxurious down was that which pillowed his achiug head, during the fouroventful years of his public min istry. No doubt his worn and jaded spirit panted for repose. He umst have felt, a« ' the clouds lilted around him, and the ho- j rizou of the future was allaf{!ow with the splendors of (lie coming day, that he was ahout to enter on the lull fruition of his long cherished hopes of a ransomed and re united land. He had already scaled a height from which the eye of faith might sweep the houndless*panorama of a happy | continent,Japt in the repose of universal brotherhood—its brown forests aud gold , bearing mountains Ifathed in the tranquil sunshine and sleeping in the quiet M>li ■ tude of nature—its lakes and rivers alive with the glancing keels of an abundant and industrious commerce—its plains dimpling with golden harvests—anil the tall spires of its multitudinous cities, the resorts of traffic, and the homes of learn- ] itig and the mechanic arts, pointing to the skies. Isut it was not his fate to enter j into that rest which such a vision might i have foreshadowed. Another and more | enduring was to receive him into its cold I embrace. He dies unconscious, without j warning, and without a struggle, ill the ' very hour of his triumph—in no darken en chamber—tossed by no agonies on an uneasy couch—with no lamentations and j no wail of woe—no harrowing, heart- | breaking farewells—to disturb his spirit in its heavenward flight: but by an utr | seen hand—in a moment of respite from \ corroding care—aud in the presence of i the people whom he loved. With so lit tle to feitf, he could not have made a hap pier exodus. How marked the contrast between his own last hours, and the last j of the public life of the Rebel Chief,whose wieked counsels have either inspired the blow, or strengthened the hand that reach ed his lite—Abraham Lincoln, who never injured a human being, dying a* the cap itol, in the hour of his triumph, with no rancor in his heart, and nothing but char ity and forgiveness for his enemies upon his lips—ami Jefferson Davis, with the blood of half a million of people on his hands, flying like a thief in the night through the swamps of Georgia, and cap tured iu the disguise of a woman, with out even one manly effort at resistance. — It had been better for his fame, if he had died too even as he lived The genius of .Milton almost flags under the sublime story of the flight and fall of the apos tate archanger when conquered but not dismayed, lie plunged over the crystal battlements of heaven "with hideous ruin and combustion down," ill startled Chaos shook through his wild anarchy. It was reserved for the guilty leader of this not loss infamous revolt, to find even a lower deep, where the dignity of the epie uiuse can opver reach him. Host tlien, honored slia<lo! spirit of the gentle Lincoln, rest! No stain of in' lioceut blood is on thy hand. No widow's tear —no orphans wail shall ever trouble thy repose. No agonizing struggle be tween the conflicting claims of mercy and of justice; shall afflict thee more. Thou hast but gone to swell the long processioo of that noble army of martyrs, who left their places vacant at the family board to perish for the faith in Southern dun geons, or to leave their bones unhurried, or ridged with countless graves the soil that they have won and watered with their blood. Though lost to us, thou art not lost to memory. The benefactors of man kind live on beyond the grave. For thoe death ushers in the life that wi.l i) »t die. Thy deeds will not die with thee, nor the Cause or nation which was aimed at in the mortal blow that laid thee low. What i though no sculptured column shall arise to mark thy sepulchre and proclaim - to future times, the broad humanity, the true nobility of soul, the moderation in success, that, by the confession of his harshest critics, have crowned the until- I tored and unpretending child of the ; prairies, as the "King of men V What though the quiet woodland and ccmetry I that shelters thy remains, and woos the pilgrim to its leafy shades, shall show no eostiy cenotaph—no offerings save those which the hand of aff-jction plants, or that of nature sheds upon the hallowed I mound that marks thy resting place? What though the muse of history who j registers thy acts, and inscribes thee high among the favored few to whom (rod has given the privilagcs of promo ting the happiness of their kind, should fail tri record the quiet and unobtrusive virtues that cluster round the hearth I and heart, and shrink from the glare of day? There is a chronicler more faith ful that wiil take thoy story up where history may leave it. The pen of the Recording Angel will write it in the chan cery of Heaven, wh.le the lips of child hood will be taught to repeat the tragic talc until memory shall mellow into the golden light of tradition; arid poesy shall claim the story for its theme. But long ere this—even now in our own day and geneiation—the cotton fields and the riee swamps of the South, will be vocal with thy praise, while the voice of the eman cipated white man shall swell the choral harmony that ascends from the lips of the dusky child of the tropics, as he lightens his daily toll—now sweet because no longer unrequited—by exteuipori ! zing his simple grattitude in unpremedi ! tated lays in honor of the good President who died to make him free. The might iest potentates of earth have labored j vainly to secure a place in the memories ' and the regards of men, by dazziing ex hibitions of their powei to enslave. Both I Memphiau and Asyrian kings, who-e very names had perished but for the researches of the learned, have sought, to perpetuate their deeds and glory, in the r ck tombs of the Nile, and the unhurried bas-reliefs of Ninevah and Habylon, covered with long trains of sorrowing captives mana cled, and bound, dragged along to swel 1 the victors triumphs, or, per- , haps, as votive offerings to the tern-1 pies of their best ul god's. It was ' reserved for thee to find i» surer road ! to fame by no parade of conquest. — No mournful triin of miserable thral is either graces or degrades thy tri- ; umptb. The sufy'ugated aro made j free, and the hereditary bondsmen drops his galling chain, and feels that he is ocnc more a man. If the genius or sculpture should seek to preserve thy name, it will present teeh lifting from the übjeet posture, and leading by the hand, with gentle solicitation, tne enfranchised millions of a subject race< and laying down J their fetters as a free-will offering up l on the altars of that God, who is the common Father of mankind. SPECHL NOTICES. w, eONNOQUKNKSSJ.NO I,Ot>OK No. *lB, I. O. of O. K. hoM« it« stated meetings at the Hull, on Main Street, Butler Penna. e*ery Monday ©renins;, commencing at six o'clock. Brethren from sister Lodges are respectful • y invited to attend. By order of the N. O. NOTICE# \P PLICATION will be made to the next Legislature* of the Statu of Ponnsvltanln, for tin- Incorporation of the Harmony Saving Bank, with u capital of Thirty Tlu-ii-and Dollars. Said Itank t.» bo located in the boro. of Harmony. Bntler County, said Stat*. The Itriilal Chamber. A note of warnim? and advice to those suffering with Seminal Weak noun, General Debility, or Premature De cay. from wlnt«»vor cause produced*. Head, ponder, and\ reflect! Be wine in time. Sent Kit KI! to any addres*. lor the benefit of the af flicted. Sent by return mail. Address JAH. N. 429 Broadway, New York- Butler Apill 12 1865::nmo. cured of Nervous Debility, Premature Decay, ami the effect* of youthful indis cretion. will be happy to furnish others with the means of c\\r«.(frrr of charg*). Thin remedy Is simple, SHfo aud certain. Fo. full particular®, by return mail, please addrca «VOfI!V B. OGDRN. June *, 1865, 3m, AO Nassau St., New York, BUTEeII M Vi«K 112: 1-4. BPTtr*, Pa. June 12 1865. BUTTER—Fresh Roll, 12, cents per pound BKANS—White, $2,00 per bushel. BAULKY—Spring:, $1.10; Fall, $1,25. BKKSWAX—:S6 cents ser pound. KtHSS—IS cents per dor.en FLOUR—Wheat, $5,00 to 6,00 per lmnd.; Rye 2.50* Bu<kw< eat, ,60per bund. FRUIT —Dried Apples, $2,00 to por bushel; Dried Fern-hen, ?4,<H)t04,50. K HAT 11KR81 —50 cents por pound. "RAW—Wheat, $1,50 per bushel; Rye, 70. Data, 40t Corn 80; Buckwheat, 75c. (IROCERIKB—Coffee, Kio, 40c per pound; Jnva, 50c Brown Supar. 15cper ponnd; do. White, 25r N.O. 31 <dan. Os #1.50 cents per gallon; Syrup I,Go and $1,75. 1111,» KS—7 cents per pound. LAUD —10 oents per pound. NAILS—«B,OOper keg. POTATOES—2S and per bu-hel. PORK—I 4to 15 cents per pound. RAOS —5 rente per pound. HICK—2O cents per pound. SKKDS—Clover, lib,oo, per]bushel; Timothy $5,00 SA LT—s3,76 per barrel. TALLOW—B cents per pound. WOOL—6Oc per pound. DIED: On Thursday last. J. R. If. DeWolf, son of E. G. De- Wolf, five y«*treimd si* months old. Poor Jon ay was spending (he season nt bin "grand pas" Mr. Tliomofl Flemmiug, of Concord, Tp. Hit pa rents residing in Waverly, Pike Co. Ohio, were not wit their dear boy during his last illness, but although fond parents were absent Jonny was surrounded by affsctlon ate friends who vledOttth each o«h«-r in sets of Mfldness and affection. On Monday morning we received a Tele graphic din patch from his father, inquiring whether his boy -was yet alive"—he had just learned of his severe I lines*. Our answer would of course envelop him in SOITOW. We ran only condole his parents in their great affliction. They can feel assured that what seems to be tboir loss is his gain. On the first of April. tSPfi, Miss Matilda Laytoa, of Allegheny Tp , tain county, aged 4 > yo.it*, 'J iAoiith>, and - I days. Her hentth bad been delicate for years, but there waa no indication that her death was at hand till a few days before It occurred. From the effect* of a severe cold which she had caught, her luags, which h:ul been weak for a long time, gave way, aud one short week brought her to the grave. She wis a member of the Presbyte rian church of Sc übgrass, aud her trust in the hour of death, as during her life, waa in the atoiiiug bluod of the Lord Jesus Christ. On July •'hi. IKi'.'i, Mr. Mhotnas J. Lav ton. brothor of the above, aged 41 years, 8 months, and 12 days. Mr. L ivton was drafted last fill, and the hardships of army life were too much for him. He was before a de sensed end broken down man, and had hut few teeth, and no two of them could b« made to touch each other and it was nt long till he had a severe cough, snd his unmasticated 112 Dyspepsta,and he was obli ged togo to the Hospital, lie was a while at City Point and was retnoven thence to Phi lade Iplxla, and after re maining here a month or two, ho thought It potwibla for him to stand the journey home. He obtained a din* charge and reached homo oifthe 7th of Juuo. Hut, In stead of Ms heolth improving whon he goth uua, as was hoped, he grew weaker and weaker till death came to his relief. Hohas left a wife with the care of four small children. Doubtless the widow's G«*l and the Father of the fatherless will ptoride for them. It was a groat sat isfaction that he got home to die. If he came home a dying nan, In an ither souse be came home a living man, possessed of the highest kind of lift;, even that which is spiritual and etei rial. I Whilst In the army he fait, a* novo* before, hi* newl of < hrint. nn-1 became a —hlier of tho cr.w«. Afr 9 r he pot home he professed hi* faith in the Saviour, an.l w,. received a* a member of the church and hapti/.d In the name of the triune Hod He left unjust one honi-bofore the glorious 4th of July began. We thought of the many soldiers who have written to their friends that tliey would be home to spend the 4th with them; and we thought, trii!v our friend has gone home to spend hi* 4th, and there to celebrate tho praise* of the captain j of his Filiation, frboee victories over the powersof dark ness have been so glorion*. Though he had but an hour i for the journey, ho would arrive before the day began. I The Journey of christians from thin world to their flual home, in no tedious or fitiguelng one. There is no dark solitary way to he wearily traversed by them. Though thHr earthly home and their heavenly one "may he parted by a still breathless »icean, a fathomless abyss of cold, dead apace, vet, *wift OH never light went, swift a* never thought went, Hies the just man's spirit across the abyss profound. One moment the sick room,the next the pnrudisai glory One moment the sob of parting anguish, the next the great deop swell of the angels' song/' And what a glorious home i« that to which we trust our friend has gone. He had longed for weary mouths to be at hi* earthly home, but here only sickness, pain and death nwnited him. Now he has gone where these things In Cherry Tp on Saturday the Bth inst of Dlpthsrea, Nancy Armina second daughter of Isaac and liaunuh Hall, aged 14 years 2 months and 4 days. At Nashville Tenn., on the morning of July 2 TBfl6, John Baedin, of Co., K. 78 Kegt. Fenna. Vols. MARRIED, On June 20tli. by Kev. W. A. Black, at his residence, Mr. Amos 11. Jamison of Allegheny Tp., to Mies Lizzie J. daughter of .Samuel Lnughiin, of Marion township. WW APVEBTISEMEMS. " Claim A^ent, rpilK nnder»lfne.l wnnlil reep'-ctfully notify tho public X '-»t liiw been rognlsrly comimnlonert a* CLAIM AGENT, for securing Bounty M-nnj, Arrtxirt of J'ay aud An tioru, for soldiers* or if they are dead, for their legal representative* No charge will IIH made for prosecuting the claims ..f soldiers, or their representatives until the same are collected. C. JS. ANDKRSON. butler, June 27,1865. ESTRAVS. CAMS to the residence of the subscriber, living in Harrisvllle. Butler Co. Pa. on the 12th of June last, one Sorrel Mare, white strip on face, sprained in left hind leg, three white feet. and about twelve years old. ALSO—A May Mare, sweneyed in both shoulders, and has had Rollers in both : ami is five years old. The owner or owners are notified to come forward, prove property, pay charge* ami take them away, otherwise they will l»e disposed of according to law. VVM. A. CUMMINS. Harris*ille July 12, 1865. $5 REWARD. STOLEN from the Drug Store of Dr. B. P, Haromiiton, Butler Pa about the 28th of June, a Pockot Case of Surgical 1 net rumen te. The above reward will be given to .♦ Ny person returning them, with information that will load to the detection or the th ief.. Public Male, BY virtne of an order and decree of the Orphans Court in and for the county of Butler, the undersigned Administratrix, with the Will annexed, of*m. Hays, late of tancaeter Tp., deed. will offer for sale cn the premise*, at tine o'clock P. M.,of Wednesday August :10 A. D., I s ' ; s. about twenty acre* of land, morn or less. Situated in Lancaster Tp. county ami- State aforesaid, bounded and adjoining public road from Whitestown to Harmony, and by lands of Samuel Hays, widow Kline felter and other*, with the appertenancea. TERMS. —One third of the perchaee money to be paid on the confirmation of sale by the Court, and tho balance in two equal annual pavments with interest thereon fron* •aid confirmation of sale, 51ES. MARY HAYS, July 12. im Ada's.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers