VOLUME 4.
|Joetru.
IN MEMORIAM.
BT L. wist.
Fiercely I>IPW the rhllHng blaat.
Th« giant trees, their barren lioibs
Tossed to and fro. as if to catch
The mantle of the uiotning wind :
Boreas howled, as on his car he went,
Fast sending over hill and plain :
Green herbage, by the cruel frost was cropped ;
And in the hollow or the vale,
The seal and auburn leaves wpre heaped,
Like windi<»w« In the hPivest fleld.
December, stern, sat on his throne,
And untiled to see the antics,
V\hirb the wind-g'td played
Amongst the things of earth.
'Twa* oo that bleaV December day,
We parted with our brothers:
I'arted,—yes, for to the wars
Our brothers needs must^o.
That war,—oh. how 1 (hudder yet
To think of all the Ills It wrought,
Of broken vows, of bloody lipids,
Of mangled limbs, of cities sacked,
Of dying braves, of lieroef dead,
Of hearthstone® lone, of brok. n hearts,
Of widow's sighi, of orphxn'- tear«,
Of dungnon btrs, of prison pens,
Of hunger, cold and storm.
Atti ui »i an J death.
Yes we parfd,—
jlnd our hearts, with deepest sorrow,
Swelled to overflowing:
We felt like giving words of cheer,
JBut erief had sunk them in our breasts,
Too deep almost fur utterance
fiudness bro<.dcd o'er our minds ;
We felt us though the cypress crown.
That decks the brow of death, had fell
Athwart our very thrcshhold •
Though thus »ad and sonow-Htricken,
"Though we mournful were, and solemn;
Vet a gleam ef pride came ni*hlng
From Its chamber In our heart*;
And it swelled up like a fountain,
Sparkling o'er its eiher brim :
Ye*.—with pride we viewed our brothers,
7fa merged lor the deadly strife.
Proud of them * how oould we help It;
A thousand other heart* beat high,
W hen brave and n..b10 brothers left then,—
Left them for the fluid of .Mars
Oh, the glorious fleld ot M .rs'
\Vhere beath reigns Lord and King,
Where glory stands within the grasp,
And passion riot rnns,
bete crimson streams from brawny limbs
Purl richlv out, t«. soak tue ground,
To aggrnndi/e th«- fleld.
Oiorious >iar«! the Music of the roaring storm,
bile t«'*«ing Oceana mountain high,
Whose broad, wit sheets, nil fiercely slap
Against the rock hound shore,
fcinks into lutigufflcnnce,
Compared with thine.
The ciintions loud tom.-ndons roar.
The crashing shot the screaming shell,
The charging squadrons thunde.ing trauip,
The fierce inset, the mad recoil.
The flying host, th« hot pursuit,
The death shots filling thick and fast.
The Oloody corpse, the mangb-d limb.
The Silent prayer, the dying groitn,
The bitter cone, the loud hurrah.
tYriApire to make thv glorious fleld
VA, l>eo Helium Mar,.'
We glorie-l in the self denial of our brothers, —
«llorTed in their braver v. ami
Gloried in their zeal.
The /.eal that led them forth to battle
With the powers of treaty n ;
W ho with malice stern m«l fierce.
|lad taken up the buttle brand
Against our lighteou* government,
Kight man.nlly our brothers bore
The patriotic steel :
With loyal hearts, anil steady tramp,
Thev marched ; with them we nunt
<Our hopes ar.d prayers and tears :
We honed that when the war w is «»'er.
That called them from their childhood's home,
That we'd into* tr.em, not in sorrow
Isuch a* then each look expressed,-
Hut in giadnert.*- heartfelt gpolness,
Mixed with thankfulness i nd jfor :
How we counted on the pleasure
That would Come in aft««r days;
Wbetl beside the deur old hearthstone,
As in days of yore we -at.
tYeshould sit, while they recounted
Many a fierce and bloody fray,
Many a want and many a trial,
And of battle, fame and glory,
Of that cruel, crtiel. war.
Yea, we parted,—end th« Tuid,
The empty void of time rolled on,
Day*, and weeks, and mouths defended ;
Kkftk into the deep vortex
Of ages past and gime.
At last the dreadful tidings came,
A battle had been fought :
par boys at Fair oaks met the foe:
llrave Casey in advance was sent.
His troops were few, and raw recruit*
Composed lie bulk of his ill-fated band.
Fcr da\s, in deadly duels fought
The pb-ket bunds of either side ;
A hellish eat fare ! worse to stand,—
More trying far to mortal man,—
Than all the courage of a hard f--tight fleld.
'Twas thus they fought, but Anally
The storm burst forth in fiuy;
The god of battle trod the earth,
The ground beneath his flerv foet,
<Bho<nr like a passing earthquake ;
The air grew dark and vapors rolled
Along the mountain tops ,
The cannon sent its crashing shot,
The musketa rattled fie ce and wild,
The leaping sabers gleattfd on high.
They quivered, flaw bed and fell
Like ligh'iiing from the cloud that rolled
Atbwait the vault of ether.
Tue foe, before the Union host
Went surging like a broken wave
Upon the sea of death.
"At last there catne a sullen lull,
A alien e i»:oidea o'er 'he fleld,
-A sickening sense of dark despair
deemed floatihg in the air above;
*Twas momentary, ami the storm
Ihirst "forth aoe% Tornado like
The shafts of death were hurled .
A nd this was -momentary too ;
The stubborn foe was beaten back ;
With rank* and broken band-.
IVy wfnt fast flying from the Held ;
firing reaaed, a shout rang load,
The tloody field was won
All this we heard; yet who were slain
We knew not: dread susponae,—
Ah I who could tell us who hud fallen there ;
Where were our brothers dear—
Where? had we had worlds at our command.
We'd am-rtflced them all t'have known.
Were they stretched on gory beds,
Kenumbed and chilled in death '
Mad they stood the battle's slnK-k
And catne forth crowned with laurels green?
Or had they faltered, turned and fl.*d.
Like cowards from the fleld?
Thus we pondered and we wondered.
Till along the heated wites
Flashed ferth a measage; thun it read:
41 CASH'S MEN FLKD OFF utt
iFlcd lilr poitriMinx .' can it be !
Oh ! the angul.-h that we suffered I
Oh! the «hame,*thc deep disgrace
If It werr so! We drooped our heads,
•uid felt as though ourstlvo*
More marks of treaaon.
la it so ? we often axked ;
It cannot he. we can t believe It: no—
We'd sooner look f,.r star, to fall,
Than to l>elieve onr brothers fultered
•VrTthe-tace »>f any foe
'Thu» we thought and often reasoned ;
And full S4H»n that imputation.
Was tike dew drops, brushed away ;
rbeolrwe heard, that like a whirlwind
Cauie the rebels thousands atr ng,—
Came like a |.*-.m ef destruction,
.f*w«eping down •« Carey's baud ;
TDoft-u on Casey's weak divhtioe,
Down upon his raw recruit*,
Wh«*r«.*nt by yrsot M'Clellan.
4>n that awful bloody day;
All unsup,,„rt<-.1. unprotected.
To begin (hat direful fray.
'Twaa then we k«»*a that blundering braggart,
thk.t gunboat hero, FAMOI'M
Jfor his boasti ng 112 M-,t that niesi-age,
Though he knew not why he sent it,—
Bent it forth So *ell creuti. n,
That iha men of vet'ran Casey,
Uad diareputaLdy fled.
Thua it |R and alway* will be,
A'hnn commanders lurk behind ;
What roport to send, they know not,
jKnoiriitg not, they go it blind.
la the swamp and by the morass,
Camped our aoldiers night and day
*Thure inhaling dire malaria,
Scores to fever fall a prey ;
was one fund brother stricken,
W'Jiio was hale and stout and brave,
£arried almost in Jm descent,
To the portals of the grave.
Carried round by aome gotd fortune,
Juat aa olouda bear round the rain,
though why, nor be, nor 1 could tell you.
Reached his childhood's home again ;
fie was ganut and weak and weary,
But he got our eufteet bed.
fihn we tended like an infant,
Uini we like an infant fed.
AMERICAN CITIZEN.
When strong again lie grew, he started
For the battlefield agai.i,
Aud if hard was the first parting,
Patting atill was harder then :
But he was so brave and manly,
That no other csi -ie on earth
Could have led him to diahonor
This fair land which gave hits birth.
Soon the wild s<eam spirit carried
Him ad wn the br|r»y bay,
To the comrades who nad missed hlra,
Many hundred miles away
There the meeting of thos- brothers,
Was like loved oIMS parted long.
In whoe hearts the ties of friendship
Are like bands of iron strong.
Side by side, nwake or slumbering,
Like two doves of tende heart,
Loving, wnen the) wore together,
Saddened, when they had to part;
Osntlr were they to their comrades,
fearless in the hour of battle,
Marching like Napoleon's veterans,
Where the deadly bullets rattle.
But at Plymouth's bloody struggle,
Into rebel hands th»y fell,
And were hurried to that so called
' Fittest earthly type of hell
That filthy stockade, bntlt by deminl,
Or by men of demon's will,
At a place called Anderson—
A sickly little Georgian ville.
Where the fiendish Wlrr did duty, *
Aa comma* dantof the post,
Under whose vile, black auspices,
Many a man gave up tbo ghost:
There like sheep bound In the shambles,
Treading filt.l and black decay,
Eating poison sirk and wounded,
Our poor Union soldiers lay
There our brothers fell the victims
Or malaria, fierce and dread,
Then were moved away to Florenca,
Theic were numbered wiih the dead.
Artur facing death in battle,
Fighting for our go ally land,
It is hard to think they struggled,
Starved, and died by Witzes baud.
We have reared for them a pillar,
More enduring, m.ire sobliine,
Thau the strongest -haft of granite,
Or of metal from the mine :
In inein'rie's golden hall i! stands,
Whitened by the tears of grief,
With their epitaph wel written,
Standing out in bold relief.
This the epitaph that's written,
Our dear brothers now are dead.
May they ot: their Saviour's bosun,
Kvet rest each weary head.
They both served their country truly,
Always raady ami in time.
May their rent be sweet In beavon,
Everlasting, and sublime.
jftli.wllaiuwi.
JOHN A. ANDREW.
ISct'ure ho was fifty yean old, in tbo
vigor of his prime, respected and heloved
as tew men ever are, suddenly an I with
no pain lo himsell', but with nn ibcredis
blc Borrow to the country, John A. .ln
drew has gone heoce. How strong his
hold was upon the hearts ot nil good men
among us nobody probably Cully estima
ted till he died. How much good men
counted upon hitn iu the tuture even
they could not know until they fjund j
themselves, as now, looking vaguely
about and seeing no man in his place.
Not sit«v» the news came of Abraham
Lincoln's death were so many hearts tru
ly smitten. Not since the bright spring
days in which that mamorable funeral
processioa wound through the land
were so many sincere tears shed as for
a personal, private loss, iu thousands of
homes, as on the soft autumn day when
Governor Andrew, as he will be always
fondly called, was buried. Yet whatev
er might have been hoped and expected
in the future, his service to his countrv
arid to maukind was already great
complete. Not only by signal ability
but by noble character he had impress
ed himself upon his contempories, -and
without a spot upon his fain* ho takes
his place among the really representa
tive Americans.
liefore the war he had been represent
tative in the Legislature and member of
the Constitutional Convention ; and there
was no man in his State better known or,
more wholly trusted. We first heard his
naive in 1M59 from a Massachusetts isa*
who said, "John A. Andrew will bo
Governor if he wants to be." Uut when
the w.ir was evidently at hand it was
Massachusetts which wanted li im, and
turned to him at anee as her leader.
How he led her is already a familiar
tale. Those of her citizens «ho f«lt
most deeply aud truly all that her his
tory and a certain moral rennwn or the
State demanded, a'so felt that the de
mand bad beeu 1 ally natisfied by him
Almost his first act upon l::s accession to
odice iu Jauuary, ltjtjl, was to order
equipments for the soldiers. He kucw
that war was imuiiueut, and he thorough
ly understood its scope aud probable re~
suits. On the 19th ot April Massachu
Witts blood—the first in the war—Was
shed at Baltimore, and Governor An
drew's dispatch to the Mayor of that city
introduced hiiu to the country. "1 pray
you to cause the bodies of our Massachu
setts aoldiers, duad iu JSaltimore, lo be
laid out, preserved in ice, mid tenderly '
»eut torwaad by express to me All ex
pense will be paid by the Common* i
wealth."
From that moment until the eud of
the war there was no more untiring and
efficient soldier of the Union and of lib
erty than he. His executive ability was
remarkable, his industry astonishing his,
devotion untliiugiog He worked with
hand and heartaud head. He enuipped
aud organized tha troops, lbut 'he also
oervad the moral scutiment which sus
tained the public opinion upou which
the war rested. He was the best of
counselors. His insight wa* seldom at
fault. He measured men accurately
how justly, indeed, experience has since
shown in some conspicuous instances.
There were good aud able men in the
executive chairs of the loyal States du
ring the war. But it was a j«st instinct
-upon their part which selocted Governor
Andrew to write tha address of the loyal
Goiernorg at Altoooa.
irom the beginning Governor Andrew
saw plainly the relation ot slavery*to the
war. W hen General Butler moved into
Mary lata in April, 18(11. ho offered bis
troopa to Governor Hicks to aid in sup
pressing servile inaurrections. Governor
Andrew, who iDstictively knew that
"Let us have Faith that Right makes Might; and in that Faith let us, to the end, dare to do our duty as we understand it"--A. LINCOLN.
BUTLER, BUTLER COUNTY, PENN'A, WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 20,1867.
Slaveiy was the rebel, instantly felt the
weakness of the reasoning which had
probably influenced General Butler, and
wrote to him very kindly, but very de
cidedly, legretting that Massachusetts
troops had been ottered for stfch a purs
pose, and stating that such an insurrec
tion must now be contemplated from a
military point of view, aud was one of
the inherent weaknesses a? the eiemy.
General Butler replied with the favorite
allusion to"the horiofs of St. Domingo,"
wnich would follow the arming ot the
slaves. He failed to convince the Gov*
ernor, however, and probably himself;
and the next year Governor Audrew,
after long and urgent solicitation of the
authorities at i.ashington, obtained
leava to raise three years' colored volun
teers, And the Fifty-fourth Massachu
setts was the first colored regiment that
marched from the free States The Gov
ernor addressed it upon its departure,
and gave to its young Colonel the flag
for which he and so many of his brave
soldiers heroically fell.
Five times Governor Andrew was
elected by a vast majority, The confi
dence of the State in hitn was unbound
ed, aud so were its pride and love. But.
iu 18(55 he dee'iued a renomination.
His magistracy had beuun with the war,
and he was willing that it should end
with it He was not rich, and he could
not afford to be Governor except when
the public necessity was overpowering ;
and when it ceased to be so his duty
to himself and to his family withdrew
him from public life. But he had
doubtless overtasked himself. Ear
ly and late lie was at his post, and the
strain of the whole moral and nervous
system exhausted him. lie was of a
lull habit, and had oue or two hints of
the uncertainty of his health. But
while the war lastfid he could not heed
such hints, and when it was ended it was
probably 100 late. Yet, with the blithe
urdor of a hoy, he threw hiuiselt again
iiito his profession, and iuto the undis
turbed domestic happiness to whieh he
had been so long a stranger. Every
morning he passed across the Common,
swinging his lawyer's bag, as if he were
just sixteen and were on his way to the
Latin school with his satchel. Itis tastes
were simple ; his life unostentatious.
Every body knew him. lie was the
best-beloved citizen; and his genial
greetiDg was as warm as a sunny May
morning. But "the shadow feared of
man" walked very near him ; nnd sud
denly holding the hand that was dearest
to him iu the world, he died.
Governor Andrew was in the truest
sense a statesman. That is to say, his
discretion was as remarkable as his prin
ciples were profound . aud he had that
sagacious perception of practicability
whieh enables a man of gieat executive
faculty to achieve great good results.
He was a Ktidieal iu the truest sense.
That is, lie believed justice to bo the
best policy. "I know not what record of
sin," he said, "awaits me in the other
world ; but this I know, that I WHS nev
er mean enough to desp : se any man
because he was ignorant, or becausej he
was black." lie valued party as an in
strument merely, and his moral inde
pendence and political intrepidity were
alike unsurpassed. It woulu be difficult
to find an American statesman who so
uaturally attracted popular spmpathy,
and so heartily scorned to flatter the
mob. He never lost his self rospeci, and
therefore always retaiued his respect for
others. It he differed with his frends
about methods, he kept his temper; and
if they lost theirs, their sharpest censure
or angriest menace did not swerve him
tho very least step from the line of his
conviction. When the war ended, al
though he had been an early and devo*
ted auti slavery man, ho said plainly,
"I have been for a vigorous prosecution
of the war, and now I am for a vigorous
prosecution of the peace." But he
meant by that no sentimental confusion
of right and wrong; no blubbering
blunder of surrendering the very victory
so hardly won. Ha meant a calm and
patieut reconstruction upon the brftad
toumiutiou ot eijutty and common sense.
No man was evermore truly a l'uritan
in the liberal sense of believing in the
moral basis of good government, but cer
taiuly no one ever less a l'uritan in sup
posing that legislation Can produce T6-
sults which in the nature ot things aie
solely due to moral causes. He had also
the sinewy religious faith of the l'uritan.
Out under a very different form. He
was a Unitarian ; but no Calvanist ot
liotton Mather's school believed more
fervently than he. His imagination
kiud'ed with the grandeur of the He-,
brew religious spirit and the Biblical
phraseology ; and his speeches, and oft
en his official documents, when it was
becoming, were impressive fmm a rich
and soieuiu Scriptural rhetoric. At a
camp meeting upon Martha's Yigeyard
iu the summer ot 18H2 he spoke to tfcom
ands of people oue Suuday in the open
air with the fire and unction of a great
rel : gious leader.
In social intercourse Governor An
drew's sweet and opulent nature sp.rk
led and rejoic d. Truly modest, cu ti
sympathetic, the same
candor and simplicity which dignified
his public conduct endeared him to
hia friends. Those who had *ad no
chauce of measuring the man were ready
to see him fail when he came without
preparation to the direction of a great
State during a great war. But there
were few men in Massachusetts, what
ever their politics, who did not acknjwl
edge their mistake and conoede hid mas
terly capacity- It was this general con
viction of Governor Andrew's j»erl'oct
rectiUde, sagacity, and political candor
and ability,-whieh had already indicated |
him, in the mind of innay who felt that
General Grant's nomination to the Pres
idency was inevitable , as the most prop
er candidate for the Vie cPresidency.
That cheering hope has disappeared.
Public life in the Unite 1 States has lost
a man whom it could not spoil, and who
made it truly noble and inspiring ; a man
who was cultivated witbout los 3 of pop
ular influence; who worked with a pars
ty and was never its slave; who kept
faith with himself, and was in evory
fibre of his being, and in the best sense,
and American. And ho, too, is one of
the victims of the war. of the
brave young men who loved him and
whom he loved, whom he commissioned
anJ sent with his benediction to the great
struggle, spent his lifn for the country
more truly than Governor Andrew
With theirs, his me mory is a sacred and
iinmortal appeal to the living to take
care that the dead have not died in vain.
—Harper's Weeekly.
THE REACTIONARY POLICY.
While the policy of the Republican
party in the present situation of the
country is simple and plainly defined, the
Democratic or reactionary party, alert and
anxious for a chance ot returning to
power, contents itself with denunciation,
appeals to the lowest prejudice, and
claims to be the peculiarly conservative
patty of the country. Its policy, if it
should return to power, must be iulerrcd
Irom its antecedents aud the principles
announced by its orators and organs Its
view of the origin of the present politi
cal situation is evident from the views of
those who speak for it, and this view
must dictate its treasures. Thus at the
late Democratic meeting in the city of
New York chief speakers were Mr. Jas.
S. Thayer, Mr. Voorhees of Indiana, Mr.
Cox, Mr. O'Gorman, aud Mr. Montgom
ery Blair. The latter gentleman's per
furmances and opinions are of no siguifi
canee, because he is a mere political shy
ster. But the four others are represent
ative men of the Democratic party.—
They were all known during the war as
the most virulent Copperheads.
.Mr. O'Gortnan, indeed, spoke at the
great New York meeting after the fall of
Sumter,, aud urged a show of force to
persuade the Southern brethren to see
that they had made a mistake ; but the
fighting, if there were to bo auy, he beg
ged might be of the most fraternal char
acter, aud he had nooonceptieu whatev
er then, nor does he seem ever to have
acquired any, of the real nature and ne
cessity of the great struggle. When the
war really began Mr. O'Gorman opposed
it, and denounced the Government with
a bitterness which was nowhero surpass
ed Mr. Thayer was an open and frank
advocata of secession ; and declarad that
if what he called a tevolutirn •were to
take place, it should begin at home in
the free States. Mr. Voorhees was im
plicated in the conspiracy of " the Sons
of Liberty" and " Knights of the Gold
en Circle," and declared with fervor that
he would " never vote one dollar, cne
man, or one gun" to carry on the war.—
Mr. Cox was of opinion that '■ Lincoln
and Davis ought to be brought to the
same b.ock together." These orators
spoke for the Democratic party then as
they speak for it now. The war, in their
opinion, was unconstitutional, unnecessa
ry, and wicked. It was occasioned by
the aggressions of the free States upon
the rights of the slave States. Upon
the abstract question of Slavery these
geutlemen held the doctrines of their
purty. The negro was an inlerior race ;
Slavery tended to civilize him ; and
whether Slavery were right or wrottg it
was none of our business. To condemn
Slavery was " to poison the wells" of our
Southern brothers; it was to breed dis
sension ; it was to foment disunion.
Such were the views of these repra
eentative Democrats before and during
the war. Since the (.urrender of Lee
they have declared, upon all occasions,
that arms having been laid down every
thing returns to its previous condition ;
and the only constitutional method of
dealing with the situation is to indict
and tfy as many persons for treason as
may be thought wise. At the same time
they decry tuch a course as impolitic.—
Thu policy of reconstruction, therefore,
which a party holding such views must
nec ssari'y put into practice, should it
regain power, is that whioh springs from
the theory that the rebellion is now a
suppressed riot, and that it is impolitic
to prosecute any rioter. During the war
the Democratic purty denied tha consti
tutional power of the ier-in
chief to emancipate slaves, and prophe
sied a servile insurrection and universal
massacre of the white population of the
rebel States as the inevitable consiqucnce
of emancipation. But the party now
generally acquiesce in the fact of the
freedom of the law slaves, it insists,
however, that Congress has no authority
whatever to enfranchise them politically,
aud prophesies, as a consequence of ne
gro voting, the lapse of the late rebel
States into a barbarism as universal as
| the massacre which it foretold as theoon
sequence of emancipation. The Demo
cratic policy of reconstruction would
therefore be the surrender of the eman
cipated class to the care of the white
class of the population. What kind of
eare that would be, what justice or mer
cy slaves emancipated as a means of sub
duing their masters might expect from
their masters after tl ey were subdued,
experience and common sense assure us.
linder the name of fraternity the Dem
ocratic policy would replace Davis and
Toombs in the Senate, and Lee in the
army. Under the name of conciliation
it would intrust the political prosperity
of ten States to those who do not dis
guise their regretfal reverence for baffled
rebellion. As it formerly betrayed hu
man nature and struck at nationality un
der the plea of State sovereignty, no it
would now dishonor the nation and out
rage of justice uuder the name of con-,
ciliation and heavenly good will.
Yet the chief Democratic' argument is
atf appeal to hatred. It expends its force
and eloquence in defaming the negro —»
Its highest strain is that this is a white
man's government, which is true w a
matter of fact, since of thirty millions
of people only four are colored. But it
is wholly untrue as an argument for the
exclusion of coloted men from the sufi
fruge for there has never been a time in
the history of the country when they
have not voted in some of the States.—
By incessant denunciations of " nigger
equality," as well as by the most con
temptible falsehoods, the Democratic par
ty tries to inflame the hostility of race.
While in the oity of New York and else
where in the North there is no degree of
bestiality into whioh a white human be-,
ing can sink so low that he is not still a
good enough voter and an intelligent
fellow citizen, yet the colored man every
where is of necessity of an inferior race,
semi civilized, a barbarian, ignorant, aud
degraded. The staple of Democratio
speeches is ridicule of the negro, or a sol
emo effort to prove his total incapacity
for intelligent citizenship. Now we ask
for a single evidence of that incapacity
as a class which is not equally true of
the foreign-born voters of the city of
New York as a class. And we ask any
man who wishes the speedy return of
peace and prosperity to the country
whether ho trusts the statesmanship of a
party which systematically excites hos
tility between the Irish-born and the col
ored population. It is the old tactics of
the slaveholding oligarchy, which always
fostered the mutual jealousy of the poor
whites and the slaves.
The Democratio party also claims to
be peculiarly conservative. Conserva
tive of what ? Of the great poinciples
of liberty, of equality before the laws, of
equal defense of rights, of governments
of all the people? By no means. It is
merely conservative of the traditions of
caste and slavery, which the country has
outgrown ; of class supremacy, of class
legislation, of unequal laws, of govern
ments from which half of the people are
arbitrarily excluded. Of what is the
Democratic party conservative ? Is it of
the Constitution ? One of its chief cans
didates for the Presidency, Mr. Horatio
Seymour, attacks the Senate as unjustiy
constituted. Is it of the national good
faith and fame 1 The other of its '['res*
idential candidates, Mr. Pendleton, de
mands repudiation. It will not be de
nied that the most intelligent and highly
civilized parts of the country are politi
cally Republican; and the most ignorant
sections Democratic. In the city of New
York it can not be disputed that the
parts which are the least enlightened give
the heaviest Democratic majorities. Now
is ignorance truly conservative ? Does
any body who is competent to pronounce
suppose that the political majority in the
city of New York represents as real a
conservatism as the majority in the State
of lowa or Massachusetts ?
We repeat that the policy of the Dem
ocratic party in the present situation of
the country is founded upon bitter hos
tility to a part of the population, and
upon disregard of the principles of the
Constitution and of public honor. It is
consei vativa in no other rense whatever
than that of the old Tory conservatism
in England which protested that to abol
ish the death penalty for stealing a leg
of mutton was to sweep away the buls
warks of the Constitution. Its whole
course is a series of tactics for getting
into power. There is do evidence any
where of a serious desire to deal fairly
with the of the coun
try. The only thing every where evi
dent is that it has changed no opinions,
that it holds as strongly as evef to the
spirit of the Virginia and Kentucky res
olutions of '9B ; that it honors and trusts
most the men who were the most sub
servient to the domination of slavery in
the government; and that it wholly and
contemptuously denies that government
should rest upon the expressed consent of
the governed. Should it return to pow
er we must expect every question settled
by the war to be reopened. We must
anticipate repudiation and a commercial
convulsion such as no country ever ex
pericnced. We must be prepared for a
po'icy toward the frecdmen upon which
the civilized world would cry shame.—
The success of tha Democratic party
would bo the restoration of the rebellion
to power — Harder'* Weekly.
FAMILY Coca'i KSV. —Family iatima
cies should never uiake brothers and sis
ters forget to be polite and sympathizing
to each other. Those who contract
thoughtless and rude habits towards the
members of their o«vn family, will be rude
and thoughtless to the whole world.
But the family intercourse be true, ten*
der, and affectionate, and the manners of
all uniformly gentle and considerate, and
the members of the family thus trained
will carry into the world and society the
habits of their childhood. They will re«
quire in their associates similar qualities;
tbey will not be satisfied without mutual
esteem, and the cultivation of the best
affections, and these will be sustained by
that faitli in gooducss which belong to a
mind exercised in jure and high
thoughts.
—Socrates, at an extreme age, learned to
play on musical instruments. Dryden in
his sixt7-eigtb year commenced the trans
lation of the Jliad ; ail his most pleasing
productions were written in his old
age- Franklin did not fully cimminence
his philosophical pursuits tili be had reach
ed his fifteenth year. It is sever too old to
learn.
THANKSGIVING PROCLAMATION.
COMMONWEALTH OF PENNSYLVANIA.
BY JOHN \V. GEARY, GOVERNOR.
From the creation of the world, io all
ages and climes, it has been customary
to set apart certain days for special relig
ious observances. This has not always
been influenced by the light of Christian
knowledge, nor by any proper conception
of the character of that Great Being "who
ruleth the earth in righteousness." and
"who daily loadeth with his benefit ,'
but by an innate sense of tl:e existence
of an over ruling Power, by which the
world aud all it contains are governed
and controlled. Aided by the cultivated
reason, and the teaching of Divine revel
ation, we, however are taught to recog
nize in that Supreme Ruler a Heavenly
Father, to whom we are indebted for
existence and all the blessings we enjoy,
and to whom we owe constant and fer'-
vent thanksgiving and praise. It is he who
'•visiteth the earth anil waterath it;" who
"srftteth the furrows and blesseth the
springing? thereof;" who "crowneth the
earth with his goodness, and whose path?
drop fatuess ;' who "clotheth the pastures
with flocks, and covereth the valleys with
corn who "rnaketh the out-gjings of the
morning to rejoice/ who "is our refuge
and strength who maketh wars to
cease/' ana "saveth us from our enemies;"
whose "throne is for ever iind ever," and
who' blesseth (he nations whose God is
the Lord."
On all sided we have increased assu*
ranee of the "hving-kindness" of an All
wise Parent of Good, who has conducted
our nation through a long and terrible
war, and permitted our people to repose
once morein saftey,"withoatany to molest
them or to make them afraid." The mon
strous sentiment of disunion is no longer
tolerated. The Flag of the Union, aud
the Constitution are esteemed as tha safe
guards of the rights and liberties of the
people, and are revered and defended as
the ark of their political safety.
A kind Providence has not grown
weary of supporting our continuous wants.
A bounteous harvest has rewarded the
labors of the husbandmap. Flocks and
herds are scattered in countless numbers
over our valleys and hills. Commerce
is uninterrupted, and vessels laden with
the products of nature and of art, speed
unmolested, over the trackless deeps.—
Neither pestilence, famine, political or
social evils, financial emburassments or
commercial distress have been permitted
to stay the progress and happiness of the
people of this great Commonwealth ; but
peace, health, education, morality, relig
ion, social improvement and refinement
with theirattendant blessings, have filled
the cup of enjoyment and comfort to over
flowing.
Recognizing our re sponsiblity to Him
who controls the destiny, of nations as
well as individuals, and"from whom
Cometh every good aud perfect gift," aud
to whom we are deeply indebted for all
these and the richer blessings of our
comuiou Christianity, let us unitedly
give our most devoted gratitude and
hearty thanksgiving.
I, therefore recommend that Thursday
the 28th day of November next, be set
apart as a day of praise and thanksgiv
ing, that all secular and worldly business
be suspended, and the people assembled
in their various places of worship to ac
knowledge their gratitude, and offer up
prayers for a continuance of Divine fa-,
vor.
Given under my hand and the Great Seal
of the State, at Hnrrisburg, this thir
ty-first day of October, in the year of
our Lord one thousand eight hundred
and sixty-seven, and of the Common
wealth the ninety-second.
J NO. W. GEARY.
By the Governor ;
E. JORDAN, Secretary of State.
"BEAUTIFUL RIVER."— Sabbath day
is the beautiful river in the week of Time.
The other days are troubled streams,
whose angry waters are disturbed by tha
countless crafts that float upon them ; but
the pure river Sabbath flows onto Eter*
nal Rest, chanting the sublime music of
the silent, throbbing spheres and timed
by the pulsations of the Everlasting
Life. Beautiful river Sabbath, glido on!
Bear forth on thy boom the poor, tire J
Spirit#! tho rest which it seeks, and the
wtary, watching soul to endless bliss .'
FOLLOW THK RIOHT.—No matter who
you are, what your lot or where you live ;
you cannot afford to do wrong. The only
way to obtain happiness for yourself, is
to do the right thing ; yon may not always
hit the mark ; but you should neverthe
less, always aim tor it, and with trial
your skiU will increase. Whether you
are to be praised or Jilamed for others;
whether it will seemingly make you rich
er or poorer, «r whether no other person
than yourself knows of your act on ; still
always, and in allcises, r/o the right thing.
Your first lessons in this will sometimes
seem hard ones, but they will grow easier
and easier, until finally, doing l.'fti right
thing will bedome a habit, and to do
wrong will seem an impossibiliiy.
DEPENDENCY.—The race of mankind.
Would perish, did they cease to aid each
other. From the time the mother binds
the child's head, till the moment that
| some kind assistant wipes the death damp
from the brow of the brow of the dying,
we cannot exist without mutual help.—
All, therefore, that need aid, have a
right to ask it of their fellow mortals.—
No one who lias the power of granting
it can refuse it without guilt.
—About a half a million of dollars
beeti expended for the relief of
the people of the South, under the Con
gresuional acts.
NUMBER is
WIT AWP WISDOM.
—Holiness of heart is the jeweLolasp
that bindu hurannitjr to Heaven.
Prayer should be the key of the day
and tho lock of the night.
—When you want friends is the time
to find out if you have aof.
—ln the child, ssys Jean Paof, happi
ness dances ; in the man, at most, it only
stniles. *
—An Irishman objected to pay the dog
tax on the ground that the dog was not
naturalized.
. -r' le eulogizing or apologia
ing for wicked actions is second only to
that of committing them.
—Nothing is more odiotw than the face
that smiles abroad but flashes fury amidst
the caresses of a tender wife and chil
dren
—Why is a flirt like a dipper attaohed
to a hydrant ? Because everybody is at
liberty to drink from it, but nobody de
sires to take it away.
—A knavish attorney asked • very
worthy gentleman what was honesty ?
" What is that to you? meddle with
those things which concern you," was the
instant reply.
Iho most difficult operation in the
practice of surgery is said to be "taking
the jaw out of a woman." The fellow
that said that must be an old bachelor of
the large blue sort.
—Sam Slick tells us that if he were
asked what death he preferred, as being
most independent, he would answer freez
ing, because he would then go off with
a " stiff upper lip."
—A Bride's Advertisement.—A lady
advertises for sale, in a Southern paper,
1 one babboon, three tabby cats, and a
parrot. She states, that, being mars
ried, she has no further use for them.
—The useful encourages itself, for tho
multitude produce it, and no on,a can dis
pense with it; the beautiful must be en
couraged, for few can set it forth, and
many need it.
—How boldly do we judge of what is
right and wrong in the conduct of others I
How boldly do we censure and condemn
very often when we are doing them the
bitterest injustice.
—A preacher named Opie reproved
one of his elders for falling asleep dur
ing service, whereupon the latter retorted
that ho " couldn't help it, while under
the influence of Opie ate.
—A person holding an argument with
a grocer concerning matters of trade, the
grocer's wife bid him give over argning,
for she was sure her husband could show
a thousand reasons (raisins) to his one.
—An adventurer, given to evil tpeak
ing and to dining out, was one day slans
dering an acquaintance, when a gentl •-
man present silenced him by exolaimiag,
" You never open your movth exoept at
the expense of your friends.
■ —A gallant was lately sitting beside
his beloved, and being unable to think of
anything to say, asked her why she was
like a tailor. " I don't know," said she,
with a pouting lip, " unless it is because
I'm sitting beside a goose."
—An alderman was heard tne other
day getting off the following specimen of
what may be called "corporation" logio:
"All human things are hollow; I'm a
human thing, therefore I'm hollow. It
is contemptible to be hollow, therefore
I'll stuff myself as full as I'm able."
—Grattiu being asksd his opinion of
the valor of a certain captain, who from
excess of feeling put up with a severe
castigation, replied, that he thought it
odd, for to his knowledge the captain
had fought. "Who, who?" cried his
informant. " Shy," said the witty bar*
rister.
—A young man walking along Fourth
Street, espied a house shut up, with a
bill over the door, showing that the house
and shop were to be let. He asked a
person at the noxt door, if the shop might
be let alone ? " Yes," replied the other,
" you may let it alone, for any thing I
know."
The celebrated wits.Foote and Quin,
had a quarrel, but were finally reconciled
by their friends. Footc, being still a
little sore, said to Quin : " Jemmy, you
shouldn't have said that I always lie abed
while my only shirt is being washed."-
To which Quin replied : "Sammy, I nev
er could have said that, for I never gave
you credit for having a shirt at all."
—A very corpulent gentleman travelt
ing in Minnesota was walking backwards
and forwards in front of a tavar-i, while
the horses were changing. Ono of tLe
gapers, an inhabitant of the place, had a
mind to be witty; via.ving the gentle
man's person, he accosted hizi with—"l
see, sir, you carry your portmanteau be»
fore you." " Certainly," said he,"l al
ways think it requisite to aove it under
my eye, when passing through a suspi
cious-looking place."
—Why spend one's life in fretting
over the inevitable? If amen or wo
man be plain, why not accept the fact,
and go their ways attending to the plesa
ures an i business vf life just tho same,
cultivating other mesna of agreeablooess.
The plainest men and women have been
the best beloved and honored, while the
handsomest of both sexes have been
obliged to stand aside for them. Be
sides, were it not io, life is earnest, and
may be rendered so noble and so beauti
ful, despite wha. era considered by sur»
face-people adverso circumstances, that
it seems not only weak, but wicked and
ignoble to be paralysed by cuoh acoider
Nor is such weakness confined to women,
| who are wrongly supposed to be the rains
1 cr sex.