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. '
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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~
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SUMMONSES
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EXECUTIONS
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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;