HAHVBT SICEIiSH, PropUetor.) NEW SERIES, poilli Brandt drmorral u N u A weekly Democratic _ _ paper, devoted to Pol 'tics, New?, the Arte r 6 pad Sciences Ac. Pub -1 ished every Wednes- s day, at Tunkhannock, \ *• j* Wyoming County, Pa. '*Js- v fj |;i BY HARVEY SICKIER. ' TERMS:— I copy 1 year, (strictly in advance) $1,50 AXDXTEriTISIISra. 10 lines orj j I - less, mak< three four' tiro 'three ! sir 'one . one square weeks weeks mo't/t mo'lh mo'th year 1 Souare I.OOj I,2ft 2,2 ft' 2.8?' 3.00 5,00 2 do. 2.00; 2,50 i 3.2 ft: 350 4.501 6,00 3 do. 3,01); 3.75; 4,75 s 5,50, 7,00; 0.00 i Column. 4,00; 4,50 6,50 8,00 10,00' 15,00 i do. 6,00! 7.00 10,90; 12.00 IJ.liui 2ft.00 i do. B.UW 9,50 14,00 18,00 25,00 35,00 1 do. 10,00! 12,00 17.011 22,00 28,00 40,' 0 Uusiness Cards of one square, with paper, $3. iTOI3 WORK of all kinds nc-atiy executed, and at prices to suit the times. BACON' STANO.—Nicholson, la. C. L. JACKSON. Propri-tor. [vln49tf] HS. COOI'IJt, PIIYSICIAX & SURGEON • Newton Centre, Luzerne County Pa. pEO. S. TCTTON, ATTORNEY AT I vT Tunkhannock. l'a. Offi.-e in Stark's ilivh 'Block, Tioga street. "IX7M. M. PIATT, ATTORNEY AT I \W, Of- V\ fico in Stark's Brick Riock, Tioga St., Tunk hannock, Pa. T ITTLE & DC WITT, ATTORNEY'S AT J-2 LAW, Office on Tioga street, Tunkli.inuock, Pa. R. R. I.ITTt.E. ,T PEWITT. TV. SMITH, M. I). PHYSICIAN A SURGEON, • Otiice on i'ri Street, next door to the Demo crat Office, Tunkhannock, Pa. HARVEY TICKLER, ATTORNEY AT LAW and GENERAL INSURANCE AGENT Of fice, Bridge street, opposite Wall's Hotel, Tunkhan nock Pa. TNF. j. . I (>U*l-;l.ltT*. HAYING L ' vT- J-J ED AT Till, FALLS, WILL pronjjitly attend nil calls in the line of his profe.-sinn—n.sy be found ai Recmer's Hotel, when not professionally absent. Falls, Oct. 10, IS6I. JDH. j. (J. liKCKI.R 4s Co., PHYSICIANS SURGEONS,. Would respectfully announce to the citizens of Wy oming that they have located at Mohoopany, where they will promptly attend to all calls in the" live of their profession. May be found at his Drug Store wlren not professionally absent. j. TTCT*. niioiYiDs, mar. D„ {Graduate oj the University oj Penn'u.) Respectfully offers his professional services to the citizens of Tunkhannock and vicinity. He can he jouf.4 when not professionally encaged, either at his Drug Store, or at his resideucc on Putnam Street. WALL'SHOTEL' LATE AMERICAN HOUSE/ TUNKHANNOCK, WYOMING CO., PA. THIS establishment has recently been refitted and furnished in the latest style. Every attention will be given to the coinfuiN and convenience of those whe patronize the Hotr\ T. B. WALL, Owner and Proprietor. Tunkhannock, September 11, 1861. NORTH BRANCH HOTEL, " MESUOPPEN, WYOMING COUNTY, PA RILEY WARNER, Proper. HAVING resumed the proprietorship of th" above Hotel, the undersigned will spare ro ehort to render the house nn agreeable place ot sojourn for all who may favor it with their custom. RILEY WARNER. September 11, 1861. MAYHARD'S HOTEL, TUXKL lAWOCK, WYOM rN G COUN TY , PENNA. JOHN MAYNA It 1) , Proprietor. HAVING" taken the Hotel, in the Borough of Tunkhannock. recently occwpted by Riley W.ai per, tke proprietor rerpecxfully solicits a share of public patronage. The House has been thoroughly repaired, fed the comforts and accomodations of a £rst class Hotel, will be found by all who may favor St with their custom. September 11, IS6I. M. GILMAN, DENTIST. M GILMAN, has permanently located in Tunk • hanneck Borough, and respectfully tenders his jtrotessinnal services to the citizens of this place and surrounding country. , ALL WORK WARRANTED. TO GIVE SATIS FACTION. . l-fT" Office over Tutton's Law Office, near th e Poe Office. Dec. 11, 1861. Bfunics JI Blanks 111~ BLANK DEEDS SUMMONSES SUBPCENAES EXECUTIONS CONSTABLE'S SALES Justice's, Constable's, and legal Blanks of all kinds, Neatly and Correctly printed on good Paper, and for sale at the Ofljce of the "North Branch Democrat." HOWARD ASSOWATIONT™ HIIILA DELPHI A. For the Relief <tf the Sick v V Distressed, articled with ViruleAt and Chronic Diseases, and especially for the Cure of Diseases if the Sexual Organs Medical advice given gratis, by the Acting i-urgeon Aalualle Reports<>n Spermatorrhoea or Seminal Weakness, and other Diseases of the Sexual Organs and on the New Remedies employed in the Dispensa ry, sent to the affiicted in sealed letter envelopes, free of charge. Two ot three stamps for postage will bo aoeeptable. Address. Dr. J. BKILLIN HOUGH tr? i Howard Association, Nc. 2 S .4 *' . . L^ftOly. Ipsallmitous. 3lr. Smith's Seaside Sojourn. BY CLARA AUGUSTA. A Pan! Getige Washington Smith shut up the novel he had been reading, and his sal low faoe grew luminous with the light of a new idea. \ "Ma," said be to an ancient lady who was darning stockings near hiui—" lam going to visit the seashore." " Good gracious, Paul ! go to the sea shore ! Well, I never ! why that's the placo where Lucy Billings' Sam got drowndid, when I was a gal ! You niustn's thiuk of such a thing as gwine !" " Rut I tell you I'm hound to go! Julien Ilep'aneter St. Roque, the hero of this book that I've been reading, spent all his sum mers by the sea, and, at last, he married one of the finest women there with a coach and four, and a million of dollars ! They got acquainted at one of those large hotels that are advertised in the Chronicle! And I mean to go too ! I may be as lucky as Jul ien was!" " Lord love you, Paul ! you're nothing hut a hoy yet! V> hy you bain! got the leatest speck of a heard ! I hope you habit begun to think about a wife 1" c * 111 haven't any heard, I have a mous tache, " replied "an!, affectionately stroking a microscopic yell w down on his upper lip. Don t. Paul, call that a moustache ! why it haint longer t,han the hair on a cachet's g eat toe, audit looks txacilyasif you'd rubbed a buttercup over your upper lip!" " Ma, you insult me !" "No, sonny, deary ma. never would do that! hut what on oa- th do you want to go to the seashore for ?" " For what other people go, to he sure l or my health, and to improve my appetite." "F >r massy's sakes ! don't go anvwheree to gi more of an appetite than you've got now ! ill,it last barn lof beef is more'n half gone already, and thare haint ten pounds of i'mur in the home ! You have got an awful appetite, Paul !" " Supposing I have ? you nced't he contin ually dinging out at a fellow about his appe tite ; pit 1 niipd you, now,- I shall go, and 1 shall want fifty dollars to pay my expens es !" Paul, as usual, carried the day. lie was an only child, consequently lie was spoiled. At nineteen, he was as verdant a specimen of humanity as one ever saw. His bump of self esteem was must wonderfully developed, and he labored under the impression that every young lady he met was "dead in love with I him." For the rest, he was about an average with other youths of his age ; possessed the usual quota of sentimentality ; snorted long soap lucks, and as flaming waistcoats, as any oth er mart ; and talked of himself and his expe rience with a coolness absolutely refreshing. Behold him, one fine July morning en route fur Long Beach, and Seaview House.— Clad in his best suit of blue, with bright but tons ; his pink neck-tie in a bow knot, his lemon colored kids light as his skin—his pockets fuil ( f doughnuts ; and a rope by which to let hknsell down from the window of his chamber, in case of fire. Paul's " caution" nas large, and he had no idea of being burned a'ive. That ride by railway was a great event.— lie carried Ins blue hat box on his lap, and sat on his valise. Lest somebody should ap propriate them while he was looking from his window. He passed an uncomfortable day. When he arrived at the Seaview House, he aston ished everybody hy the appetite he display ed, and the evident fear in which he stood I concerning his box and valise, which he had placed on the floor hy his side. At last, lie was safely ensconced in a room of his own. where after having peeped under 'he bed, examined the closet, and pulled out the bureau drawers, to make suie that there were no hidden murderers, or trap doors, like those his favorite novels tcld of—he composed himself to sleep. The next day, a merry cnr.pany of young men hoping for Home amusement from Paul's verdancy—invited him to accompany thetn on a fishing excursion, down the hay that afternoon. Paul was mortally afraid of wa ter ; but when told that two fine young la dies would be of the paity, his fears vanish ed, and he accepted the invitation. He ate an unusually largo dinner—there was fish cf all kinds, cooked in every descri bable manner—and Paul was remarkably fond of fish. . At two, the party set out. Miss Bly and Miss Merrick were charming—particularly Miss Bly, who took Paul under her especial charge, and Very nearly burst her stay lac ings in consequence of the laughter she was obtidged to smother. A half mile cut, tho water began to get a little rough—and Paul's head got strangely unsteady, and gravitating from side to side. He was oblidged to bold on to the boat's side with both a6*d then he found it slightly difficult? to #ijjfn an erect position. As the water grew higher, Miss Bly pre tended to be afraid. y*- Ty - g £ , : "TO SPEAK HIS THOUGHTS IS EVERY FREEMAN'S RlGHT."—Thomas Jefferson. TUNKHANNOCK, PA., WEDNESDAY, AUG. 14, 1862. " Oh, dear Mr. Smith !" cried she, " what if the boat should upset ? You wouldn't let me drown, would you?" "No !" cried Paul, frantically, his teeth chattering with fear—" Lordy ! what was that we struck ?" Wasn't it a sunken reef?" " Likely enough. They are very numer ous here. Dear me ! I am so nervous ! You are sure you can swim, Mr. Smith j," " Ah—yes—that is—l used to see the Kicker boys swim. I can do something at the business, if the water isn't too deep." " Mow deep do you swim in ?" "V; ell—l—that ie, I shouldn't like to venture in more than eighteen inches!" stammered Paul—who had never been in anything of the aquatic line more formida die than a bathing tub. "My hero ! aud you would peril your life to save mine!" . " I would, fairest lady ! but oh—ah, dear Miss Bly, hadn't we better ask those fel lows to turn back ? It looks to me like a squall' And the wind rises! Oh dear—how I feel to my stomach !" *' Perhaps your dinner distressess you V "No —I guess not—l didn't eat very hear ty. Ma wanted me to take a box of Brand reth's pills with me ! I wish I had—l—l don't feel exactly well." And simultaneously, poor Paul leaned over the gunwale of the boat, and gave back his fishes to the element from which they were taken. II is head was singularly unsteady, and his strength of !ittlo account—he thought himself dying; and just nt that inometU, a lurch of the boat pitched him head foremost into the waves ! In falling, lie caught the skirt of Miss Bly's dress, aud clung to it, ut tering the wildest shrieks, until one of the gentlemen seized hiin by his long hair and drew him ca hoard.- Paul knew hat very little about the luck they had in fi-hing—his hath completely stupefied him, and lor two days, he kept his room and his appetite. On the third day, lie emerged, and the landlord groaned mental ly at sight of the dearth one meal created in his premises. It seemed as if Paul's stom ach reached to the very end of nowhere ! For three days, our hero was deep in a fiit tation with Miss Bly ; during which he had been made the victim of more practical jokes than he had fingers and toes. At the end of that time' there was a' new arrival. Paul stood on the piazza when the carriage, drawn by two white horses, was driven to the door. lie felt that his destiny was in side that glittering equipage; and he put his hand on his heart lest it should jump out, and go to meet its counterpart before the , roper time arrived. The lady 'who descended from the car riage, was certainly beautiful euough to he the destiny of Mr. Smith, or of any other re spectable gentleman ; and the splendor of her dress, and the queenly grace of her bearing, convinced our hero that she was both noble and wealthy. She registeied her name as Adelaide Del aroche; aud engaged the finest suite of rooms in the hotel. Paul was dying to speak to her—he was sure she wan in love with him, for at first sight of him, she had smiled, and put her handkerchief to her face—she was so pure and modest! He worshipped her already. An opportunity of forming her acquain tance soon occurred. She went to walk one morning ; a little dog belonging to a south ern gentleman, presumed to look at her— Paul was near at hand, and rushing forward he gave the poor little cur such a blow that the batk and the breath were both knocked out of his body together. " Lady !" he cried, " I have 6aved thee ! What reward wilt thou give me ?" She smiled, and threw him a quarter. " I hope you hava't hurt the little fellow," she said, kindly—" he was only in sport, I think." "I'll teach you to strike my dog i" cried the master of that quadruped, advancing from the house—" You lean legged, up coun try gander ! There, take that!" and he llung our luckless hero over tire fence into a clay pit, where a couple of Irishmen were mak ing bricks. Tat and his friend naturally took him for the ghost of their patron saint—and byway of welcome, threw avolly of wet clay at him, and took to their heels in affright. Paul picked himself up—skulked about iu the bushes till dark, and then made his way to his chamber, where by the aid of water, soap, and preserving friction, bo succeeded in making himself somewhat more presentable. lie was well assured now, that the beauti ful Adelaide loved him. She had looked at him so kindly, and had seen how much he had risked for her sake ! Ho determined to waste no time in avowing his love, and win uing her'piomise to be his. The fates were propitious. That very evening, he found her alone in the parlor, and entering, ho seated himself by her side. She drew away a little—maiden mod esty, Paul thought—he followed her up, and took her hand. " Most adorable of women 1" cried he, us ing as near as he could recollect the precise language of Julien St. Roque, on a similar occasion—'" divine Adelaide ! Let me bear i i I Tl— l £•!! II Thee from this cold and cruel world away to my sylvan home, to be forever mine !" Adelaide, who had from the first, taken our hero to be a youth whose brain was turned—endeavored to reply gentle, so as not to exe'te him. " Release my Rand, good Gir. It is too late this evening for conversation. Allow me to bid you good-night." u No, I will not leave you ! I love you I You must he miue ! I shall do something desperate if you refuse ! I fear Dot death, nor dread the grave ! Life to me is .nothing with out thy love ! Let me press one kiss upon thy rosy cheek !" The lady door was flung open, and & tall fierce looking gentleman strode in. Tho lady rushed toward him— "Oh Edward! my husband! save mo!— this crazy man was trying to kiss me !" Edward seized a chair, and made at the terrified lover, who retreated up the stairs as fast as his long legs would carry him. His retreat was a masterly one, and Edward succeeded only in putting himself dreadfully Out out of breath, and smashing the hall chandelier with his chair, for which little bit ol amusement, he had the satisfaction of pay ing the landlord of the Seaview House the sum of seventy-five dollars. As might have been expected, our hero was terrified nearly to death. His Ade laide was evidently married to a Blue Beard, and now that he had offended the terrible monster, his life was not worth a cent's pur chase. His resolution was taken, lie would not remain at the seashore another night. The rope that his mother had given him to use in case of fire, might come in play now. lie tied his hat box and valise io it, and let them down to the ground, then fastening the other end of the cord to his bedstead, he " cliuied" down to terra fir ma himself. L'hen seizing his baggage, he set out upon the run, and at daybreak next moining, weak and exhausted, with a tremendous ap petite, he sunk to the floor in his ma's kitch en. Ila has neither been to the seashore, nor in love since. Gleasoii's Literary Compan ion. INCIDENTS OF THE BATTEE-FIELD. The scenes of'he batte-field are both touch ing and interesting. While the engagement goes on and a man here and there falls,one wounded and another dead, the dead body is /eft lying in the posi tion in which it fell, the soldier sometimes grasping his half-loaded mu-ket and ramrod, or loaded and aiming as if to again discharge it; another dying after a few minutes, or an hour's consciousness, with hands clasped or any little keepsake lying upon his bosom, as if his last word aud breath had been a prayer for the loved ones away. The wounded, if their" injuricsare slight are allowed to walk away, or, if more serious, one or two comrades lay down their arms and lead him off, until met hy the stretcher bearers. when the are laid upon the stretcher and taken to the ambulance in waiting in a protected spot, to take t.iein to the place se lected as a t.mporay hospital, where Surgeons are in attendance to rectove them. Here, then, come the trying scenes.—The physician discriminates between those mor tally wounded and those who will probably live, and the operations are affecting in the extreme. One mortally wounded soldier asks : " Doc tor, what do you think of my case ; is it dan # 1 gerous ?" With a feeling which brings tears to the eyes of men of the stoutest hearts, the Doctor replies, both for the surgeon and the spiritual adviser, that there is little or no hope, and earnestly makes the 6ame in quiry. Major Barnum, of the Twelfth New York, was mortally wounded, and while lying breathing his last a friend asked him if he had any message, to which he replied : " Tell my wife that in my last thoughts were blended my wife, my boy and my flag." He asked of the physician how the battle went, and when told that it was favorable to us, he 6aid : " God bless the old tla—,"and expired with the prayer finishing inaudibly with his clo sing lips. A braver officer never urged his men to gallantry. I met one soldier with a bail through his leg and bleeding to death surely and rapidly. " Oh," said he, " what will Mrs. Ellis and Jennie do 1 Poor William is dead—how his mother and sister loved him And he would not have enlisted if I had not. O dear, 0 dear !" And beseeching mo to take a message to them, said : "Poor Mrs. Ellis ; poor me, I have qo mother and sister to weep for me j I might as well fight those wicked rebels as not." Another, shot through thojfungt, clasped a locket to his breast, and moved his lips till 1 put down my ear and listened for his last breath : " You'll tell her, won't you ? " Tell who or where I could not ask, but the locket was the picture of one who might l 'e wife sweetheart or sister. HENRY IVARI) lIEECHER ON THE ADM INISTR ATION. Our people have suffered the Administra tion in Washington to go almost as they would, without criticism or responsibility. This has been a mistaken kindness. The people are just as much the source of proper influences in the administration of Govern ment as they are tho source of those powers by which governments exist at all. Nor is it even right of safe to allow any body of men in the administration to do as they think best. They are to he watched, their policy discussed, their mistakes ekpooed and their 6ilfishness and imbecility rebuked. Tho almost universal silence of newspapers and popular assemblies upon government policy, for fear that tho Government might be embarrassed, has damaged the admin'stra tion. It is meant fur kindness, hut it is cruelty. Do Tocqneville said, " that all governments vronW let them h#." Bower is not any safer in the hands of the men now holding the reins at Washington than in any other equal number of honest men. Power corrupts. It burns like fi.e. It is time that the dangerous silence of this country were broken, and that papers and popular semblies spoke out, spoke often, and spoke effectually. To he sure, there is danger of faction , and of embarrassing the Government. Bat we must take the risk. Silence breeds worse dangers than discussion" Corrupt men like to burrow and plot when it is deemed unwise to debate matters. In the first place, we have a right to demand of the Government the enunciation ola clear policy ; or, il thej r have none, we have a right to know that, in order that one may be supplied to them by the people. To be sure, we are to put down the rebellion ; to maintain the Constitution and the I.iws : to luing bacti the States to their allegiance. TheSe are good words. But what meat is in them ? Every child knows that to end this war involves other questions than merely those of military strategy. The most serious political questions j the mosi new and vitai civil policies, are as much concerned in the ending of the war as is the sword. Every nation on the globe knows but our owh—that the gist of this war is slavery. This is the pivot on which the whole history turns. A clear, bold, frank anunciation of government policy on that subject will go far towards settling the public mind. The Administration have seemed to shrink from the question, tf Mr. Lincoln wishes the country to settle it let him say so lf however, it be taken fur granted that it is the business of the Administration and of Congress to mark out the line of policy, let that he said. And then let it he also done. The Government seems to us to be in the position of men who don't know what to d<>, and are afraid that the pe; pie will find it out. 1 here seems to us to be a disposition in \\ ashington to settle this great question of the right of a people to their whole country, not on principles but on policy ; and not upon a high policy, but upon a narrow and mean one. VYe are pained to say that the men in Washington have been Considering what they will do after the war is over, rather than in bringing the war, to a close. It has been the fashion to shut up every paper that criticises these things with the declaration—\Y hat do you know about war? We take the grtu:ul that the method and conduct of the war are just as much within the province of the intelligent public as any other national interest. A people that are competent to form their own laws, shape their courts, to discuss their domestic and foreign policy— who debate tariff, fiuance. State and every intricate principle of Government, are competent to discuss war. It is too late for any profession to make its functions a mystery too deep for the common people, and to be handled only by professional experts. This is the common people's war. They furnish the men, the money and the enthusi asm of patriotism. They can understand war. They ought to understand it. Il is treason to their right to assume the contrary. Are six lawyers in a cabinet any better fit to discuss military- procedure than as many honest men of equal intelligence out of the cabinet ? What has Mr, Lincoln's educa tion done for him, more than ours for us, to fit him to judge of military affairs ? It is said that the cry "On to Richmond" brought the country to the verge of ruin, and shows what mischief may he done hy med dling ! No It was r.ot the cry, but the silence which followed it, that did the mischief.— That inarch should have been resumed in less than three months. Last October and November were better for the ending of this war than any months since. The people ur ged the Government forward. They demand ed an immediate conflict. They were right. What if, for want of good officers, they were at first defeated ? They should .have tried it again, and soon. Our -forces were not disciplined ? It was the same with our enemies. When both sides are alike militia they will win who show most energy and dash. And now, another horrible disaster, has befallen our army before Richmond ; and it appears that again the Administration, with the whole resources of the nation in their hands, have neglected their duty. The Ad ministration havo meddled, but not wrought. *■' - 1 .. I TBR.MS s 81.QO FUR. ANNUM \\ e are for ever outnumbered.. , To-day we are told that we have more men than we can use; to-morrow, the Governors are roused by importunate telegrams to send the whole State militia to save the. capital ; as soon as the men begin to pour in, back comes anoth er message, that they are not wanted ; and yet, at that very time, one army lies before Richmond, outnumbered nearly two to one; another, guided by the genius of that true military soul ; —an army inferior to Jack* son's—unfed, shoeless, ragged, and, after four months of beseeching, eiil 1 without ad equate transportation; another, hanging \ii suspense before Eredricksburg, to weak tq go forward, too strong to lie useless. At this crisis, with our armies broken up and fritteren away, and our Government making Brigadier Generals b} 7 the score ; of men without skill, and superseding the Generals who had shown resources and energy, be cause they feared their political future, at This time came the thunder stroke upon Mc- Clellan. An avalanche fell upon his right wing. Rolled up and driven back for seven days, that heroic army, invincible in retreat, fought with grandeur of courage, and only by such an exhibition of heroic spirit in offi- cers and pluck in men as was never known on this continent was it saved from utter de struction. Did the Government frankly 6ay to this nation. We are defeated? To this hour it has not trusted the people. It held back the news for days. Nor was the truth honestly told, when outside information com pelled it to say something. It is, even to this hour, permitting MoClellan's disaster to be represented as apiece of skillfully-planned strategy ! After the labor of two months, the horrible sickness of thousands of men poison ed in the svvamp3 of the Chickahominy, the loss of probably more than ten thousand as noble fellows as ever lifted a hand to defend their country, McClellan, who was four miles from Richmond, finds himself twenty-five miles from the city, wagons burned, ammuni tions trains blown up, parks cf artillery cap* tured. no retrenchments, and with an army so small that it is not apprehended that he . can reach Rienmond. The public are infat uated. The papers that regaled us two weeks ago with visions of a Fourth of-July in Richmond are now asking us to rejoice and acclaim—not at victory—hut that we have just saved the army! McClellan is safe '.—and Richmond 100 ! Ihe Govornmoot, upon this disaster, pro cures the Governors of the States to ask it to call for 300,000 more men. Why did not the President take the responsibility, plainly confess our disaster, say that we were with in a handbreatb of ruiD, throw himself on thepecple? No. The people pay taxes, give their sons and brothers, but that is all. We are sick and weary of this conduct. We have a sacred cause, a noble army, good offi cers, and a heroic common people. But we, are like to be ruined by an Administration that will not tell the truth ; that spends pre cious time iu playing at President-making ; that is cutting and shuffling the cards for the next great political campaign. L nless good men awake ; —unless the ac cursed silence is broken that has fallen on the people—unless the Government is h~' sternly to its responsibility to the peopl M wc shall daily through the summer, u Brigadier-Generals until autumn, build 1& intrenchmeuts, but fight uo battles till the,, are forced upon us, aud then we shall bo called upon to celebrate our defeats or re treats as masterly strategies. We have a country. We have a cause. . N Vv e have a people. Let all good men pray, that God would give us a government.— Atic l urk Independent. A SINGULAR PROPHECY. We clip from the New Orleans True Delta of the 20th ult., the suly'oined preface and re publication.—Perhaps the discerning reader will deem the fact that this " singular proph ecy "is so complacently held up to view on - his shores of the gulf as lit! Je less " singular'' ; . than the " prophecy" itself, " Straws show which way the wind blows." f m .,^o A SINGULAR PROPHECT. *T We find the following account of a most singular prophecy in a late issue of the Mobilo Tribune: Michael Nostradamus was a physician of Provence, France, known as an astrologer, m * v , the time of Ceuturine de Medice. He com posed " Seven Centuries of Prophecies." in enigmatical rhymes', some of which are ad mitted to have been most exactly fulfilled. • Among others, his prophecy (one hundred years before its occurrence) of the execution : of Charles 1, of England ; and still more sur- * 7 prising, of the French Republic, in 1792. He • died A. D. 1550 (cyclep, of Biography.) 1 The following is a translation from the "\.?i C&urier des Etuts Unix of the 26tb ult. lf " Although many of the predictions made ■ by Nostradamus (especeal'.y those concerning $ the deaths of Henry IV. and Louis XVT., of France) have bojtn completely verified they are generally discredited in our times. Bat Cf. in the Proqrjetics el Vaiaciuations of the,' <?* great man, vol. 2 (edition of 1609), we fini-.i * the following, which would seem to " About the time (1862) a great qualrel >., gi and contest will arise up in a country bejjwitfc the seas ( America). Many poor devils will, be hung, arid many poor wretches killed by, i punishment other than a cord. Upon my •JSP"; faith you may believe me. The war alb cease for four years, at wl)ich none sboUjfd fed ? astonished or surprised, lor there will be n# " want of hatred aUd obstinacy in it. At thi - end of that time, prostrate and almost ruined, the people will embrace each other in great' * joy and love." & VOL. 2. NO. l;
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