•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.