.313:yr 331 air.
VOLUME xix
PCPNITICI.E:Lia.
BOORS MARRIAOII.
My dear, if you go out today,
Put on your thickest shawl;
There is some ice upon the walks,
Be ear' ful not to fall. ,
Those rubbers you had better ware,
They keep your feet so warm,
And prove a safe-guard to the damp,
In case that it should storm
And then, my love, do not forget
To tie around your neck,
'That scarf I bought the other day 7—
d mean that 4ong4red check.
af :it should rain, just call a coach,
Bo you may not get wet
/ cikeerfully will pay the cost,
For thee, my cherished pet.
Good morning, sweetest; you will see
Me here again this eve;
Dull business tears me from thy side,
Or else I would not leave.
The day seems long from thee sway,
But when night's shadows fall,
How charming then to meet again,
My love, my life, my all!
AFTER MARRIAGE.
, What makes you wrap yourself so close!
. It surely is not cold;
'Tis foolish; doing this will make
You prematurely old.
Your rubbers! nonsense—'tis not wet ;
Those shoes are thick enough;
And then I really cannot see
The use of that great muff. - -
Cold, is it? well : suppose it be,
I guess you will not freeze;
It will not hurt you more than me,
To feel ,the wintry breeze.
Go, stop that little noisy brat,
Before you leave the 'house,
Gr else I'll take him to the pond s
And throw him in carsoun.
Bilk, you say ? just as you please,
But I'll not foot the bill; •
The women are such silly things,
They prove man's bitterest pill.
First wanting this, then wanting that;
Expense is naught to them;
Id ever I'm a Riaower,
I'll ne'er be,caught again.
pk. 74 I ifz - - - 110 nil d w i arrtliC,llllo4A
THE MORMON WOMEN
EFFECT OF POLYGAMY.
Mr. Bowels, of the Springfield (Mass.)
Republican, who accompanies Mr. -Colfax: iu
his western trip, writes from Utah the follow
ing account of the Mormon .women:
do the Mormon women like and
bear polygamy? is often asked. The univer
sal testimony. of all but their husbands is
that it is a grievous sorrow and burden; only
cheerfully submitted to and embraced under
a religious fanaticism and self-abnegation
rare to behold and possible only to women.
They are . taught to believe, and many of
them really do believe, that through and by
it they secure a higher and more glorious re
ward in the future world. 'Lord Jesus has
laid a heavy trial upon the,' said one poor,
sweet woman, 'hut I mean to bear it for His
sake, and for the glory be will grant w e in
his kingdom.' This is the common. wail, the
common-solace., Such are the teachings of
the church; and I have no doubt both hus
bands and wires alike often honestly accept
this view of the odious practice, and seek
and submit to polygamy as really God's holy
service, calculated to make saints of therio
selves and all associated' with them in the
future world. Still a good deal of human
nature is visable, both among the men in em
bracing polygamy and in their wives in sub
mitting to it..
"Mr. Young's testimony on this point is
significant. .Other signs are not wanting in
the looks and character of the men most of
ten annointed in the holy bonds of matrimo
ny, and in the well known disagreement of ,
the wives and many families. In some oases
they live harmoniously and lovingly togeth
er; oftener, it would, seem they have sepa
rate parts of the same house, or even sepa
rate hoiiees. The first wife is generally the
recognized head 'of society and usually as
sumes contempt for the others, regarding
them as concubines, and not wives. But it.
is a dreadful state of society to any one of
fine feelings and true instincts; it robs mar
ried life of all its sweet sentiment and com
panionship; and while it degrades woman,
brutalizes man,
teaching him to despise and
diimineer over his wives, over all - women.—
It breads jealousy, distrust; and tempts to
infidelity?,but the,poliee system of the church
add the community is tio strict and constant
that.it ii§-alainted , and believed-thelatter vice
5!. • •
The effect upon the children cannot help
being debasiegi.hewever,•well they may be
gtiardecrand 'educated: I3at It' is 'a Chief
failin l g t '',eveh seandaLte ,the Alornions, that
Are 'providing children,
whoiESllllll .everywhere.sa,did . the locusts Ad ,
Egypt, they have -: organized no .free school:
system; fichotils 11,1 4 0 h6id .111 - every' ward of
the, cityouid-prohably in eyery,ecuis'idei•abie
Village, kevided" for' eveang•
religious meetings under the direction dike
WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PENNSYLVANIA, FRIDAY MORNING, AUGUST 11, 1865.
local bishops' but a tuition fee is exacted fur
all who attend, and the pool are practically
shut out. The anti.polygamists should
agaitate at once an' earnest y ore orm ••is
evil—it is a strong point against the domi
nant party and
. a weak one in the welfare of
the 'territory. It is a good and encouraging
sign to learn from intelligent sources that as
the young girls, daughters of Mormons, grow
up towomanhood they are indisposed to pol
ygamy, and seek husbands among the Gen
tiles rather than among their Own faith.
"The soldiers at Camp Douglas, near this
city, are illustrating one of the ways in which
polygamy will fade away before . the popular
principle. Two companies who went home
to California last fall took about twenty-five
.wives with them, recruited from the Mor
mon flocks. There are now some fifty or
more women in the camp who have flee thith
er from town for protee Lion, or been seduced
away from unhappy homes and fractional
husbands; and all or neatly all find new hus
bands among the soldiers. Only to-day a
man with' three daughters, living in the city,
applied to Col. George for leave to move up
to the camp for a residence, in order, as 'he
said, to save his children from polygamy, in
tp which the bishops and elders of the church
were urging him. The camp authorities tell
many like stories; also of sadder applications
if possible, for relief from actual poverty and
from persecution in town. The Mormons
have no poor house, and say they have , tio
poor, permitting none by relieving all through
works or gifts. But the last winter was so
long and so severe, with wood at thirty and
forty dollars a cord, that there was much
real suffering, and the soldiers yielded to ex
tensive demands upon the charity that the
church authorities had neglected to fulfill or
absolutely denied."
Don't Judge by Appearances.
Some years ago their arrived at the hotel
erected near the Niagara Falls, an odd look
ing man, whose appearances and deportment
were quite in contrast with the crowds of
well-dressed and polished 'figures which a
dorned-the celebrated resort.. He seemed
just to have sprung from the woods; his
dress, which was made of tether, stood dread
fully in need of repair, apparently not having
felt the touch of a needlewoman -for many a
month.
• A wornout blanket, that might have
served or a bed, was buckled to his shoul
der, a large knife hung on one side, balanc
ed by a long, rusty tin box on the other, and
his beard, uncropped, tangled and course, fell
down upon his bosom, as if to counterpoise
the weight of the thick, dark locks that sup
ported themselves on his back and shoulders.
This strange being, to the spectators seem- •
ingly half civilized, half savage, had a quick,
glancing eye, and elastic firm movement, that
would, no doubt, win its way through the
breakers, both of the wilderness and of soci
ety. He pushed his steps into the sitting
room, unstrapped his little burden, quietly
looked around for the landlord, and then
modestly asked for breakfast. The host at
first drew back with evident repugnance at
the apparition whiich thus proposed to in
trude its uncouth form among so many of the
genteel visitors, but a few words - whispered
in his ears speedily satisfied his doubts; the
stranger took his place in the company, some
shrugging, some staring, some laughing out
right. Yet there was more in that single
man than in'all the rest of the throng. He
was an American woodsman, as he said; he
was a genuine son of nature, yet had been
entertained with distinction at the table of
princes; learned societies to which the like
of Clavier belonged, bowed down to welcome
his presence; kings had been complimented
whan ho spoke to them; in short, he was one
whose fame will be growing
brighter when
the fashionables who laugh at him and many
much greater than they shall be utterly per
ished. From every hill-top and deop, shady
grove, the birds, those blossoms of the air,
will sing his name. The little wren will pipe
it with his matin hymn about our house, the
oriole carol it from the slender grasses of the
meadows; the turtle dove roll it through the
secret forest; the many-voiced mocking 'bird
pour it along,• the air; and the imperial eagle,
the bird of Washington, as he sits far up ~on
the blue mountains, will scream it to the tem
pest and the stars. lie was the late John J.
Audobon, ornithologist.
A NEGRO CLASS MEETING.—We find the
following in the Western Christian Advo
cate:
In a negro class-meeting at Richmond
Sam Johnson was Called on to 'pray,- and be
fore he bad closed his prayer, the leader call
ed out:
"Sam Johnson. you may take your 'seat,
and let Cuffee Sugen pray—kase he am bet
ter quainted wid de Lord dan you am."
Another was called upon to speak, and af
ter speaking about five minutes, was called
to order, and told if he could not speak "more
to de pint dart dat he might take his seat."'
An itinerant phrenologist stopped at a
farm house the proprietor of which was bu
sily engaged in threshing. 'Would you like
for me to examine the heads of your child
dren ? I will do it cheap.' 'Well,' said •tbe
farmer, rather guesss they don't need it.
The old woman combs, them with a fine tooth
domb, once a week.' . .
Open tin oyster, retain the liquor in the
lower or deep shell, and. if . viewed tlyrcue_gh
a microscope, it will be found to contain mul
titudes of small oysters, covered with shells
.and swimming nimbly about—one :-hundred
and twenty of.which extent} but' oneinoh.—
Besides these young oystlars, the liquor`con•
- Was a variety of animalcules 'and ' myriads'
'of 'three distinct species 'of worms. • '
,
t
The Pittsburg Bar sent seventy two; or
;ore than one-half i members,. into the
armrduring the war orush the slave hold
er's rebellion.
M‘Etatiiil7 . WOMV'Eir . a4Per Neutral in. 3Pc•litioEs aaadL. ReligiorL.
A Romance of the War.
• The Poukeepsie (N. Y.) Eagle tells •the
stor
"In the year-I.Bel, when he first call or
troops was made, James Hendrick, a young
man of 18, resolved to leave his father's roof
in. Wisconsin and go forth to battle for the
flag. At the time mentioned he was attach
ed to a young girl of nearly the same age as
himself, whose parents were rated among the
'rich ones' in that !motion of country. Her
name was Ellen Goodridge. Pievious to
leaving for the seat of war, he informed her
of his intentions, promising to return in a
few months, After the first battle Bull Run,
his regiment went to Washington, and re
ceiving a Lieutenant's commission, Hendrick
resolved to enter the service,for three years,
and wrote to his parents and sweethart to
that effect. The news was received by the
girl with foreboding s, and she resolved to ac
company him. Sh e. immediately acquainted
her parents with her resolve, who; - in - replyi
turned her from the house, and bade her
never come back.
"She went, and finding out . her lover's
regiment, obtained permission to do the cook
ing at the Colonel's headquarters. She fol
lowed the regiment through the battles of
Gettysburg, Antietam, Frederic,ksburg, the
Wildernesss, Cold Harbor, Petersburg and
Richmona, and in the intervening time went
out with young Hendrick in many skirmish
es and raids, in ot — i - e — cif - Whielf - she was wound
in the left arm, the ball making a very bad
flesh wound. After Lee surrendered, the
object of her choice was taken deathly sick,
and he was forwarded .in an ambulance to
Washington, where he was placed in the hos
pital Here again her noble heart showed
itself'. She watched over him, bathed his
fevered brow, read t. him, wrote 'home let
ters for him, and shortly thereafter, with a
broken heart, closed his eyes in death. The
"day before an Episcopal minister joined the
two in holy wedlock—he dying with a pain
ful disease and she nearly crazed with the
thought that atter four long years of-suffer
ing, he for whom she had given up home, and
friends, everything dear on earth, and for
whom she had braved every. danger, had gone
to another world.
"The poor girl passed up on the Hudson
River Railroad on Thursday, for her home
in the far West, not knowing or oaring what
sort of a reception awaited her there."
A Happy Home
A pleasant and sensible writer hays that
in a happy home there will be no fault find
ing, over-bearing spirit—there will be no
peevishness nor fretfulness. Unkindness will
not dwell in the heart or be on the tongue.
0, the tears, the sighs, the wasting of life
and health, strength and time of all, that is
most to be desired in a happy home, occa
sioned merely by unkind words! The cele
brated Mr. Wesley remarks to this effect,
namely, that fretting and scolding seem like
tearing the flesh from the bones, and that we
have no more right to be guilty of this sin,
than we have to curse and swear and steal.
In a perfect, happy home, all selfishness will
be removed. Even as "Christ pleased not
himself," so the members of a happy home
will not seek first to ,please themselves, but
will seek to please each other.
Cheerfulness is another ingredient ; in a
happy home. How much does a sweet smile
emanating froni a, heart fraught with love
and kindness contribute to render a home
happy ! How attractive, how soothing is
that sweet cheerfulness that is borne on the
countenance of wife and mother I How do
the parent and child, the brother and sister,
the mistress and servant dwell with delight
on those cheerful locks, those confiding smiles
that beam from the eye, and burst from the
inmost soul of those who are near and dear.
How it hasteni the return of the father,
lightens the cares of the mother, renders it
more easy for youth to resist temptation,
and, drawn by the cords of affection, how it
indues them with loving hearts'to return to
the parental roof. 0 that parents would lay
this subject to heart-- z by untiring effort they
would so far render home more happy, that
their children and domestics shall not look
for happiness in forbidden paths!
Water with a Nigger in it.
The Cops met with quite an incident the
other day on "Copperhead Hill." They, as
everybody knows, hate negroett awfully, some
of them almost faint when the, subject of
"Nigger" is broached. But to our story--
A gentleman of our acquaintance has a very
sprightly negro boy, as black as a hat, say 8
or 10 years old, who found his way to the
"Hill" on celebration day. The little fel
low, like everybody, else on the Hill, became
very warm, and probably thirsty—seeing a,
barrel of water standing near by, he reasona
bly enough came to the conclusion that it
would be a comfortable place to bathe, and
into the barrel he slipped. Water was scarce,
and he was soon discovered. jerked out of
the barrel; and would have been lynched on,
the spbt had it not been for fear of offending
the old gentleman who, claimed him as his
servant. Of course very few persons, saw
the affair, and in a comparatively short time
the thirsty Cops had drank ,the last drop of
water, yea, the very dregki,., so indiscreetly
flavored by the "sweet scented, nigger."—
Our informant vouches for the truth of. the
story. We know these fellows have "nigger
on the brain," but we never expected them
to get the nigger in the stotunch. We have
beard of "Lemonade with a fly, in it,".but
this is the first time that we have heard of
taking water with a nigger in it: 011, Cops,
how do y'ou like thematerd,elicately flavored
with the sweet 'scented aigger?—Bedford
(Pa.) inquirer, • ,
A clergyman once, posted the following
notice on Ale, 'gate, at his ,ohnieh:—“Fouad,
two hats in my stiawberry bed... The °Wu
er can have thorn by towing
,OrOperty.'" - -
.
-Wc-doet -believe .the_dinera
.will call for
them. .
DESERTED.
• • „
The river flowed with the light on its breist,
• d - the waves went - eliying .y,
And the round red sun went dawn in the west,
When my love's loving lips to my lips were prest
Under the evening sky. '
. Now weeping slope, by the river I stray,
For my love has left me this mony s day,
Left me to droop and die.
AS the river flowed then, the river flows still,
Is ripple and foam and spray, •
On by the church, and round by the hill,
And under the sluice of the old burnt mill,
And out to the fading day; •
But I love it no more, for delight grows cold,
When the song is sung and • the tale is told,
And the bean is given away.
Oh, river, run far ! Oh, river, run fast !
Oh, weeds float out to the sea !
For the sun has gone — dowtron - my-beautiful-past,4
And the Hopes that like bread on the waters I cast,
Have drifted away like thee!
So the dream it is fled, and the day it is done,
And my lips still murmur the nano of one
Who will never come back to me !
putIPOBII I.l:lllll:fikeVar.Vg:ltajwi
The Philadelphia Pennsylvanian had the
following good story among its police re
-ports:
As Mrs. Stansbury, residing in a court
running from Race, below Sixth street, was
about to bring a bucket of water from the
hydrant last night, she found au old basket
suspended from the knob of the front door.
Putting her hand into the basket, she felt
something alive and kicking, but so wrap
ped up. in the rags that no farther discovery
could be made without unwrapping the ob
ject. A piece of paper, folded like a letter,
lay by She side of the animated bundle.—
Mrs. Stansbury imtnedititely returned into
the house, and by the light of the_lamp ex
amined the billet. It was directed to her
husband. She tremulously broke the seal
and read as follows:
"TO JOE STAtcsnuaY.—Sir: I send you
the baby, which you will please take good
care of, and bring up right, so that it may
turn, out to be a better man than its daddy.
Oh, Joseph! what a shy old rake Tiu are 1--
Who would think that such a sober old spin
dleshanks-could be such a tearing-down sin
nor? The child is yours—you may swear
to that. Look at it—it is Joe Stansbury all
over:• You deceived.me shamefully, Joe—
letting on to be a widower! But do a fath
er's duty by the young one, and I'll forgive
you.
"Your heartbroken NANCY."
"P. S.—Don't let that sharp nosed wife
of yours see this letter. Gammon' her with
some kind of a story about the baby.
Mr. Stansbury was in the basement kitch
en, quietly eating his supper, and little im
agining what a storm was brewing over his
head. The door of the kitchen was violent
ly thrown open, and his wife's voice yelled
out—
"Stansbury, come up hero, you villain !
Here's a mess fur you !"
The astonished Stansbury hastily obeyed
the summons.
"Don't you want to see Nancy, the heart
broken Nancy?" cried Mrs Stansbury, when
her guilty husband hobbled up into the
room.
"Nancy what Nancy's that ?" said the
sly old rogue, in well-feigned astonishment.
"Why, Nancy the mother of this baby
that's been hung up at the door, Mr, Stans
bury! Oh, you look mighty innocent, but
just read this letter, and then look into that
basket! Don't be afraid—it won't bite; it's
got no teeth, pooething. You'll know it ;
for as the hussy says, it's just like you, all
over. Please goodness, I'll expose you be
fore everybody?'
In less than five minutes, Mrs. Stansbury
bad collected a room full of spectators—half
the inhabitants of the court—to witness the
process of unwrapping the baby. Anxious
expectation sat on every countenance, a; the
jealous lady tore away rag after rag•from the
body of the foundling, the vigorous move
ment of which astonished everybody. "It
is full of the devil already;' said Mrs. S.,
"that shows its his. You'll soon see that it
is like him in.everything."
At last all the swaddling cloths being re
moved, out jumped' the baby, and- made its
escape through the open door. It was a big
torn cat !
Eleven Children in Four Years
We met a widow woman from 'Tennessee
yesterday, twenty-one years old and the moth
er of cloven children. She married when
she was fifteen years • of age, , and in nine
months thereafter was the mother of three
live healthy chilldren. In the next twelve
months she gave birth to twin girls; then
inside of the next twelve months she was the
mother of triplets again, two boys and, a girl;
then after a pause of eighteen months, she
presented her husband with another round
of triplets, two girls and a boy; and she ar
rived in our town with the entire lot. Her
husband•lost his life at the, battle of Stone
River, and she and her interesting and bright
eyed little merry group were left to find their
way, upon the charity of our people, to her
friends in . the middle portion of Illinois,
where she `expects to be placed beyond all
such• bUtnifriting necessities. Her•short life
has been eventful as well as prolific of events.
She looks remarkably young and active, and
if there is. no .preventing Providence, we will
go,security on her. some day ,securing the
country in, whieh.she locates from, all drafts
for the army.--Cairn Dentgerai.
"Now,, ohildreo,",asked a school inspec
tor, ','.who loves all tueo'?"' A. little girl, opt
four years old, and. eviden,tly 'not:pot4cd
'the cateehiluf auswersequielily'. '
wen."
6`Beastly" Intoxitsation
The most remakable ease of intoxication
ever heard of is relatedhy fbe Troy Timm
About a month ago an illicit whiskey distill
ry was in full blast on Green Island, ne
Troy. One night—it was a "still" night.
the man r luting the machitte had made eigh
teen gallons f whisky, and put it in the open
air to cool. long came' a cow. She was
thirsty, and the average looked inviting.— :
She swallowed qv ry drop—eighteen gallons
unreotified whiskey, warranted to kill at forty
rods. The cow has been drunk ever since.—
She staggered home and is now in the fourth
week of a grand old bender. The cow eats
nothing; falls down whenever they try to raise
her tip; and has become as lean as a crow in
stead of a cow. This cow, besides, had a
young calf, - whose strange behavior ' first led
to the discovery of the state of the
. cow. It
reeled round and round , and lifting three legs
and a tail in ttte air, actually spun. 'on the
fourth leg. The owner of the cow was an
orthodox — deacon, who had
Gough to leave off intoxicating beverages.—
Being of scientific habits,be tasted the milk of
the cow; to see what had produced such
strange, symptoms. Be found—it was milk
punch, and, having once tasted he continued,
r
drinking, and it was, the quantity thus taken
from the animal by man and =lf that made
her "as lean as a crow." Chemical analysis
proves that t h e casein had all changed
to whiskey; but the deacon will have 'to re
late his exprrience to a consistory of farmers
to have his story believed and recover his
upright position.' Whether the cow will ever
get sober, or end her life in a fit of delirium
tremens, is a question , to which we shall look
anxiously to see the ablution of.
Passing Under the Rod
No one born of a woman, has o'er ex;sted
or will ever exist, who has not felt in some
degree, the weight of an afflictive rod, Job
was not the only mortal who has cried, in bit
terness of heart, "Oh, that I were dead !
Life is at best a scene of trial, though to
some the ordeal is more bitter than to - others
Affliction- . creeps unbidden into the closet
'bound circle. We may watch with uuslum
tiering care over the forms of our loved ones
but man's destiny is nuitherably written on
the records of the past as well as-the present,
and that fate no one ban escape. See filial
love stooping over the couch where lies the
forms of those who, in life's• earlier hours,
shielded us, as far as might be, from the rude
storm. Every fibre of the heart clings with
ivy-like tenacity to the spirit flickering to its
last fading.ray. What anguish fills the soul!
What heartfelt orisons are poured forth, that
the life of the loved one miy be spared. But
the Eternal Wisdom calls that soul, away
from its struggle,' to a final rest. With
bleeding hearts the afflicted ones pass under
the rod. Parental solicitude watches with
undying interest, the progress of its embodied
love! After many years, the prodigal wan
derer may return to yield his last breath,
where, surrounded by dear associates, he
drew the first. Who should say that there
is no affliction there? Look' to the cemetery
and other spots of nature, where lie entombr
ad the buried treasures of many a heart.—
Over that small, mound, where roses bloom
in trange beauty, bends a form convulsed
whit grief. Some few months ago, a little
chirub lay in that mother's lap, giving back
smile for smile, and flashing from the. orbs
that had borrowed the hues of their native
Heaven, glad hopes for the future. Now it
sleeps!. Torn from the arm's that entwined
it, covered with the cold earth, a prey to the
wasting elements at work where the time
long sleepers rest! Is not this passing un
der the rod? How many a tearful eye will
gaze upon our homely sketch?
ff=frlZlA
An odd genius entered the saloon adjoin
ing Ford's Theatre, where Booth took his
last drink of brandy just before he murder
ed Piesident Lincoln, and inquired of the
barkeeper: •
'Have you the same bottle on hand out of
which Booth drunk on the night of the as
sassination ?'
'Yes, sir.'
'And the same brandy in it ?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Can I have a drink of that same brandy
out of that same bottle ?'
'Yes, air.'
'Let's hare it.' .
The visitor tastes the brandy, makes a wry
face, and continues:
'And that's the same brandy that Booth
drank?'.
'Yes, sir.'
'Well, I don't wonder that he killed the
President. A drink of that brandy would
make a man kill his grand-mother
A certain judge was obliged to sleep with
an 'Millman in a . crowded hotel, when the
following conversation ensued:
4iPat, you would have remained a long time
-in the old country before you could. have
slept wifh•a judge, would.yott not?" -
Yes," yer honor," said rat, "and I think
yer honor would have been. a long time in
the ould country before ye'd been a judge,
too."
A young lady objected to' a negro carry
ing her across a mudhole because she thought
herself too heavy. "Lox ' s missus," said Saar
bo imploringly, "I'se carried whole barzuls of
snear.'
Children and fools, says,an, old adage ] al
ways tell the truth. "Mother sent me," said
a ,little girls "to,sume and: 'ask you to .take
tea ; with her,1148, -, ,eyening." "Did she say
at what time, my dear?" "NA?, ma'am; she
only said.abe would ask you, and thou it
would be off her mind."' ,
r Eray plain "girl has one consolation. 'lf
she is eist_a prat," youpg girl, she will., if : she
liras, be &pretty old oue.
iiil2l,4o`; . re* '"iteigestr
' NUMBER 8
Emancipated White Men.
.n President 'Job ison'sietter,exeneing his
!whine-at, the t.,,,lictuouioa at Gettysbirg
the Fourth, iceurs this passage:
In your joy to-morrow, I trust' you will
forget the thousands of whites as well as
Its whom the war has enitmelpated, who
hail .this Fourth of July with. a delight
which no . previous anniversary of, the Decla
ration of Independence ever gave them.—
Controlled'sd long by ambitious, selfish
lea
ders, who used them for their own unworthy
ends, they 'are, now free to serve and cherish
the Godernthetit againSt whose life they in
their blindness struen. lam greatly mista
koo if, in the States lately in rebellion, we
do not henceforth' have such an exhibition
of loyalty and patriotism as was never seen
or felt there before."
'Here 'is an idea which we fear may he for
gotten in our jobilations over the return of
peace, and in the attention we devote to the
conditien of the emancipated blacks: We
- are - p rone-to-th in k_that_t h e curse of Sladefy
rested upon the negro alone, and that a rtli
whites of the South were benefitted by the
institution. This is a great Mistake, for the
Slave' aristocracy 'degraded the poor white
Man far more, if it were, possible, than 'the
negro. The Scuthern people regarded sla
very as the natural condition of the latter--
to toil and labor that his master might live
in case and luxury; but when the white man
engaged in honest, laborious industry, he
Was regarded as havino' fallen - from the na
tural dignittof the'wriite man, and forfeit
ed the• respect incident therett
~It is a pain
ful fact that the late war fell with .crushing
fore() upon the southern poor white man.—
The 'rich tnan—tlie 'slaveholder in whose in
terest and for whom the rebellion was inati
gurated, enjoyed such immunities from ser
vice in the field as .he desired, while the poor
man indiscriminately conscripted and' cotn
polled to fight the rich man's battleS.
The war being over, these meta, emanci
pated from the blighting evils of slavery,
have rdturne'd - to their - homes - in - penury - arid
-want I eases_us_to_obser_v_e_t that Presi
dent Johnson has nut forgotten their condi
_tiou, uud that in, the - reconstruction of the
Southern States lie relies upon the loyalty
of a class of people' who have been the great.
est sufferers by the late rebellion. The lat
ter admonishes us not to expend all our sym
pathy upon the negro, but in our schemes
for the improvement of, the freedmen to re
member the white man us- well.—Pitts. Gaz.
HoxV Long Shall I Live?
You will livb forever:
There are no dead. The blow Which struck
assunder body and spirit did not end the spir
it'soatall life. And so the c g myriads of the
past, Whose dust has long sin mingled with
the,soil "stillilive," The men omen and chil
(hen of Noah's day, and Abraham's and Da
vid's the motely tribes that herded, beneath
the crescent of the Arabian prophet, the
swarms of. Goth and Hun, Tartar and Van
dal, that swept the plains of the Eastern
world: the rechnrin that roamed the forest of
the Western World, and left in mounds and
tree grown ruins the dim 'history of their
earthly existence— all these are . yet alive.
They cannot die. Immortality is their birth
right and inheritance. With the first breath
of life they inhaled immortality.
No. On the.high way of heaven none fall.
In the hollows of hell none arise. You have
fixed your state forever when you leave this
world. The case is closed. You have either
united yourself to Christ with an eternal
love, which no possibility can sun4er, or have
entombed your soul in sorrows which no pos
sibilty can lift off. All change must be made
this si:le the grave; there is no change beyond.
Tho preparation must be finished here; for
there, there is no time. Time is ended, and
you aro in eternity. The decree is unaltera
ble::"He who is filthy, let him be filthy, still;
he who is holy, - let him be holy still.; •
How long will you live? You will litre ,
forever; and your life there will depend on
your life here. Every day, as you complete,
it will reappear in the years to come. Ev
ery hour, moment,' as it hurries on its way,
leaves a page :.o read before the throne. Ev
ery word, every act, every thought and feel
ing of our hearts, records itself imperishably
iu the memory of One who never forgets.—
You are writing your life for eternity.
An emi g rant , who had been somewhat
roughly dolt with by the "wild cat" gentry
of Virginia City, ,thus express his opinion
of that lively town:—
"If Gabriel happens to light at Virginia
City there'll. be no resurrection,_ for they'll
swindle , him out of -his horn beore he can
Anake a single toot!"
DONE.---:.0flo day, just as an En
glish officer had arrived at Vienna, the Em
press, knowing 'that he bad seen a certain
princess much celebrated for her beauty, ask
ed if it .were really true that she was the
most beautiful woman ho had ever seen?----
1 thought so yesterday," he replied.
"Mr. D , if you'll got my pants
done by Saturday„ I shall be forever indebt
ed to you." . "It • that's your game they'll
not.be done, sure," said• the tailor,
Why cannot two Bleeder pereoas ever be
come greagritodel. Because they will al•
ways be alight.acquaiatasees.
• Why is a, crow a brave bird? Because be
never 'sfiews the white 'feather: •
•
• WhSt is'the aiffererice between a, church
organist atitV-th6 . 'influenza Ans•—One
stops the nose, and - the , other knows the
' " • .•
al goat is'ilev6r the more reverend
fog his beard:: , : ;t:.
,t!lea s piilea of
It.sapo , r dart, . : . ,
.
!nair'4iii; . ;;,.c . o;rd ev3o
crobriiictil but . a . coward 'bib oaver Crgivo.