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VOL 46, NO. 28. WARREN, TRUMBULL COUNTY, OHIO, WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY" ID, 1862. WHOLE NO. 23G8. Chronicle WESTERN BUSINESS DIRECTORY. - O. . HiPSOOD. C A. ad a its, wk. ritxxex. UAPOOD. ADAMS BIIEItL, rcBLiSBEcs or "Western Reserve Chronicle. i EMFIEB BLOCS, MARKET ST. X fFor term, rate rf advtrtUimp, t&, see iaWJct PROFESSIONAL. GEORGE F BROWS, Attorney at Law, Webbs Kew Block. Main Street. VTrrn Ohio. - A. V. JOSE. Attorney mt taw and Real Estate Asent, at Power's Corners, Jklocca, Trumbull Counl', Ohio. I. Ia. FCLLEK, . Attorney at Law; office in Jameson's bnildiug. Mar ket atreet. Warren. Ohio. . , JEFFERSOX PALM, ... .v re , - . . Tl" f Attorney at uw; orcceon main otrm, im--u,w.. U'ili minri with flilolitv to auv business entrust- ed to bis care. . " WHITTtESET ADAMS, Attorney at Law and Notary Public, Warren, Ohio. Collections promptly made. Ded aeknowledped. and Convevaneuiff aUeuded to; oflicc in McCombs . A Smith's Block. E. If. EXSIGX, AttomcT'at Ltiwand Kotary Public: ofEee at the Post Office, Newton Falls. Ohio. Will attend to collections and all legal basiucss entrusted to him. with bOL'Uty. r. e. BDTcmKS. b. w. HATLirr. , w. o. fobeist. llCTCHIXS, BATLIFF FOKKIST, Attornevn at aw. office orefC Freeman. Hnnt Sc Co.'s Banking Oiice. Market Street, Warren, Ohio. Q. X. TCTTLE. J. M. STCLL. Tl'TTI.E fr STFEE, Attorneys at Law; office at the old office of Sutliff A Tuitle. Miirti Mtroet, twoaoors west oi me Aiuer lean lloase, Warreu, tthio. K. B. TiYWSL. L. C JOXES. TATLOR A JOXES, Attomevs at Law, Office in the Rooms formerly oc cupied by Forriet & Burnett, east side of Public bquare. " arreu. Onto. - J. D. cox. w. T. SrEAB. COS. SPEAR, , Attorneys at Law, office on Market Stroet, over the b tore of iddings A Morgan. arren. uuio. C W. SUITS. C L. WOOD. - SMITH tr WOOn. . Attorneys at Law, and Insurance Aeents. office over iloyt Osborne ( btore, luvcr cioca, ii arren, j. lr. F. A. KIERCE, Hnmnrnathie Physician and Surgeon, Office and . P.csidcnceS doors east of Camp's Hotel, Market -SL, H arren, O. S. J. BICK. H. BICE. X. J. A: M. RICE, Physicians unA Surgeons. Braceville, Trumbull County, Ohio. JOLIAS HAKOV. M. D. J. T. SMITH, K. D. HARXOX & SMITH, Thvsicinns and Surreons office north side of Public Square, Warren, Ohio. Office honrs from 7 to 9 o'clock morning and evening, and from 1 to 2 P M D. a. WOODS. M. D. DR. H. D. DILLOS. WOODS A DILEOX, Thysieians and Sureeons: nffice otct Vichols' Cloth iiiT Sor.-. Min Stiwt. Warren, Ohio. JOLTX LOT. J. 6. SELSOS. EOT A- XELSOX, PVtricians and Pnrreon: office east of the Bank. M-trk'-t Street. Warren. Ohio. J. DAVIS, Jl. .. Eclectic Pliysician and Pureon: office ever Tlnnt & Br3:va s LU'-i?r Sfore. M tin Store. Warren. 0. T. . IIOKTOX, JE I, - E loctic Phvsician and Surgeon, Bristol. Trumbull County, Ohio. E. SOOBE. Phvsician and Surreon; office at the residence of S. F. Brooson, Southington, Trumbull County, Ohio. E. SPEAR, 9E I., Eclectic PhysiciRR and Surgeon: office over Moscr's Store, Market Street. Warren, Ohio. Particular attention given to Chronic Diseases. MERCANTILE. R. II. IABJ19, Wholesale and Retail dealer in Americas and For eign Hardware. Iron, Kails, tlass, A'c. Van Gor dcr's Block, Market Street, Warren. Ohio. BIcCOXBS A SMITHS, Wholesale and Retail Dealers i n Foreign and Amer ican Dry Goods, Groceries, Crockery, A-Cj. Corner of Main and Market Streets, Warren, Ohio. a. a. pecs, a. rECK. PECK A BROTHER, Wholesale and Retail Dealers in Foreign and Do mestic Dry Goods, Silk and Straw BonnetsTrim lniirgs. Varieties, Ac, at the sign of the " IVrrem ijrt (roods Store," Phoenix Block. Warren, Ohio. v. s. roBTEB. w. r. pobteb. W. 5. A W. F. POBTEB, Dealer in School and Miscellaneous Books, Station ery, Wall Papors, Periodicals, Pamphlets and Magazines, at the New York Book Store, Main Street, Warren, Ohio. L. J. IDDIN'GS. O. MUBGAX. IDDIVGS A S03GAX, Dealers in Staple and Fancy Dry Goods, Groceries, Crockery, Hardware, Carpeting, Sole Leather, Ac, ml toe sign of tne "tmpin Hurt," Market Street, Warren, Ohio. B. S. FABES. A. WB'IZ. PARKS A WE9TTZ, Dealers in Foreign and Domestic Dry Goods, Crock ery, Boots, Shoes and Leather, Carpeting. Paper hangings. Window Shades, Heady Made Clothing, Ac, always cheap for ready pay at the New York Store. Market Street. Warren. Ohio. S. Raymond. rrroa inni. S. KAiaOXD A CO., tTholcsale Dealers in Foreign and Domestic Dry Goods. Carpets. Oil Cloths, and Wall Paper, No. Water Street, Cleveland, Ohio. J. VACTBOT. T. E. ACELrY. X. W. SACEETT. J. TAtTEOT A CO Importers of Gold and Silver Watches, and Dealers in J cwelry. Silver Ware, ic. Market Street, War ren, Ohio. A. CIKC J. CISQ. KIXG A BROTHER, Dealers Watches, Clocks, Jewelry, Silver, Plated and Brittania Ware, Lamps, Fancy Goods. Ac. No. 7, Main Street, Warren. Ohio. Ail kinds of Clocks and n atches carefully repaired aud war ranted. MANTJFAC11TRERS. C SPEAB. " ' E. SPEAR, JR. EDWARD SPEAR A SOX, Manufacturers and Dealers in Lumber, Rough and Dressed, Doors, Blinds, Sash. Flooring, Siding, Shingles and Lath. No 1, Canal Street. Warren. W. K. HULL. . S. IIEDBCRT. W. . II. IKLL A CO., Manwfacturers of Improved Steam Engines, Iron and Brass Founders and Millwrights, Franklin Foundry, Corner of Liberty and South Streets, W: arren, Ohio. - AEEXAXDER McCOXXEEE, Manufacturer and Dealer in Boots, Shoes, Leather and Findings, Main Street, Warren, Ohio. BEXJAMIX CRAXAGE, Manufacturer and Dealer in Boots, Fhoes. Rubbers, Ac Also Dealer in Leather. Findings, Lasts, Ac, Market Street, Warren, Ohio. E. II. AIXISOX, Manufacturer and Dealer in Saddles, Harnesses, Bridles, Martingales, Trunks, Whips, Buffalo and Fancy Robes, Horso-Blaukets. Covers, Fly-Nets, Ac.. No 17. west side of Main Street. W a rren. -0. WILLIAM TAYLOR, Manufacturer of Saddles. Harnesses, Trunks, Ac Carriage Trunm ings. at the Center of Farmiagton. Trumbul County, Ohio. COMMISSION MERCHANTS. S. L. STILES. T. M. SIII.8. . 11. L. STILES A COn Wholesale Produce and Commission Merchants, and Dealers in V eetern Reserve Butter and Cheese, Fresh, Spiced, Pickled and Cove Baltimore Oys ters, Noa Walnut Street, Cincinnati, Ohio. REFER TO Merchants generally in Trumbull County, Ohio; Geo. Mygatt, Esq., Cleveland. Ohio: S. Raymond k Ci Cleveland. Ohio: Fayette Brown. Banker, Cleve land, Ohio; McCandless. Mean A Co., Pittsburgh. Pa-; Wilson, McEtroy A Co- Pittsburgh. Pa.. Rhodes A Verner, Pittsburgh. Pa Poor A Co.. Cin cinnati, Ohio; J. T. Warren A Co., Cincinnati. Ohio: Jennings. Butter field A Clark. Cincinnati, Ohio. W. H. SMITH. w. SMITH. W.ILW. SMITH A C Produce, Commission and Forwarding Merchants.. Dealers in Western Reserve Cheese and Butter No. 12 Pine Street, SL Louis, Missouri. Particu lar attention will be paid to the sale of Western Reserve Cheese and Butter. Will make liberal advances on, and render prompt returns for any property consigned to them. Same Parties under the style o McCOMBS A SMITHS. Warren. Ohio. J. B. CAXFIELD, Pirwardiag and Commission Merchant, and Whole sale Dealer in Western Reserve Cheese, Buttter, Lard. Pork, Bacon, Pot and Pearl Ashes, S&l.ara toa, LinseM and Lard Oil, Dried Frnit, and Pro rfwee gen orally, Noa. 141 and 115, Front Street, Pittsburgh, Pa. ON THE DEATH OF CORNELIA CRAMER—1861. , v ,. one has cone imm inn storm a. and afflictions Of lilo To that land where no sorrow is known,. . . Hast Wit. theliritrhtsunsliiue an d dark clouds 01 carta And to Had her freed fioirit fa Her autferiuss are ended, her trials are o'er. fade sleeps undisturbed her last sleep, 1 Aflection and kiudnc? can reach her 110 more, I Aud loud hearu are loft here to weep. The earth bus received for its keeping our trust. Ashes to adhe, aud dust uuto dust. : O, sadly well miss her, o'er many a heart, I Will clouds of dark sorrow bo thrown. To know that thus early in life they must part. Will. nn. ,., I,. J ..... ' But in rain do wc cling to the loved ones bctbw. And feel that we ll not give them up, . I " ''.en lne summons shall come, for the dearest to go W e must arm k oi tliat sorrow! nl cup. And resign our loved idols, each one of as must, : Ashes to ashes, and dust uuto dust. 1 Yet ye would not to earth call her back. .More suaerin?s and sorrows to know. She has crossed thedark valley and entered the land Where anguUh and clouds never ro. And when your short journey of life here is o'er. May you meet in that blest happy land. Where partings and tears will be fouud never more. A hnppy. and unbroken band. The enrth has received for its keeping our trust. Ashes to aghes, aud dust uuto dust. CAROLINE M. DRAKE. THE LITTLE BOY THAT DIED. I am all alone in my chamber now. And the midnight hour is near. And the faggot's crack, and the clock's dull click. Are the ouly sounds 1 hear: And over my soul, in its solitude. Sweet feelings of sadness glide: For my heart and eyes are full when I think Of Uio little boy that died. I went one night to my father's house Went home to the dear ones all. And softly 1 opened the garden gate. And softly the door of the hall; My mother came to meet her son She kissed me and then she sighed. And her head fell on my neck, and she wept For the little boy that died. I shall miss him when the Cowers come in the garden, where he played: I shall misshiui more by the uresidc Whcu the nowers arc ail decayed: I shall sec his toys aud his empty chair. And the horse he used to riuc. And they will speak with a silent speech Of the little boy that died. We shall go home to our Father's house To our Father's house in the skies. Where the hoic of souls shall have no blight. Our love no broken ties. We shall roam on the banks of the river of peace, And bathe in its blissful tide. And one of the joys of life shall bo The little boy that died. DR. CHALMERS. My attempt at Match Making. I had silently watched my aunt for an hour my Aunt Katherine, who sat silent ly by the window with her sewinsr. Through the light meshes of the lace cur tains the bright sunshine came in and fell upon her soft dark dress, smooth hair, and pretty white work, while the lresh breeze, tloating iu through the open window, blew into bloom a carnation pink upon her cneeks. Ana sitting there in the breeze and sun.--iiii e I saw that my aunt Kathe rine was very handsome. At first I thought it was strange I had never noticed that tact before: but it was not stranse. for children never think anything about their parents' or guardians' looks, except that they be j.lc-ant or unpleasant, and I was little more than a child. Eversince I could remember, Aunt Katherine, with her dark dress, smooth hair, and gentle wavs, had taken care of me, and when I grew into a tall girl of fifteen, old enough to go to kissing parties and have a young beau, she watched over me still. She was my mother, mv companion, my friend. I never realized mv orphanage or want of other kin, but had been the same careless, lighthearted, merry girl eversince I could remember, that I was on the June morn ing I watched her at work in the sunlight. She looked up at last. "Addie isn t it most school time ? she inquired. 'ies. Auntie, 1 am going in a minute; but first tell me" "What, child?" "Why yon never were married." "Because I never liked anybody well enough to marry him. Now go and get ready for school." She smiled as she sp'oke, and after a glance at her face I smiled, too, and ran oS" p stairs to get my bonnet and satchel. Coming down stairs again, I put my head in at the sitting-room door. "Aunt Katherine?" 'Well?" "If you found anylxxiy whom you liked well enough, wouldn't you marry him?" "I don't know I suppose so. Why, what in the world has got into your head, Addie?" I laughed, slammed the door, bounded through the hall into the road. Half way to the school house I met my teacher, Mr. Charles Devereux. ""Good morning, Miss Addie. Recita tions all ready ?" "Yes, sir," I answered, and he passed on ahead. . I sauntered on slowly think ing of my Aunt Katherine: 1 thought it would be a nice plan for her to be mar ried. The next thought was who could she marry? xuere were oniv nair a aozen unmar- ried middle-a-ed men in the village. - . . ... r -1 u 1 1 L .ivaiiitriiiit; niu ivwciiiv-scvr:ii, uiiu VI course she wouldn t marry a very young man. I rapidly enumerated tire half dozen eligible ones and their suitability for my plan. "Lawyer Hyde, thirty; rich, aristocratic, and stingy. Mr. Leighton, thirty-five, handsome, good, well-off. but J a widower; ana i nave hearu Aunt ji.atn erine say she did not like widowers. Mr. H) : . ... :..i, i I i.i... but too fast; she would not like him. Mr. j Jarvis. ihirtv-six. smnlL crahbed. nnd nn-! i icisou, inruiv-viiiuktuuiiunuuic. nctuuiv. , j , . , bearable generally. Howe, too homely to be thought of; and Captain Ilaynes, with yellow, bushy whiskers, and nine thous and dollars worth of mortgaged property, which he is always talking about, worse yet. Rather a sorry array." Just then the school bell rang, and 1 went in to my books and Mr. Chai-les De vereux aged twenty-eight, handsome, in telligent, well educated, and unmarried. The class in intellectual philosophy was called first, and though 1 had careluliv committed my lesson tr mm .k' ! evening . before, my late thoughts had quite driven all rememberance of it from my head, and my recitation was lmper- lect. Mr. Devereux looked surprisedlv at me, but said nothing. In French gram mar my perlormance was still worse. "Miss Addie," said Mr. Devereux, as I passed by him on my way to my seat, "do you have any trouble with those French verbs in learning your lessons ?" "Yes, sir, a little," I replied. "You want a little reviewing, I think. If I have time, I will call in at your house this evening, and help you a little, while you are studying." Mr. Devereux knew that 1 always stud- ied in the evening, and had several times called m and sjsent an hour m assisting me with a particular difficult task design ed for the next day's recitation. So 1 was not surprised to hear him make this offer, though a little ashamed of the cause of it, as my failure had resulted from my willful inattention and carelessness. I thanked him, however, with a flushed face, and went to my seat. But it was not entirely shame that flushed my face. As I expected, Mr. Devereux came in the evening to explain my French lesson. But he did not find me alone. Aunt Katherine sat by the table sewing, and ! looked even handsomer than in the morning. My heart gave a flutter of im patient anticipation every time Mr. De vereux looked at her, and, after the les sons were through, I did my best to make her talk to please him. My aunt always talked well, but she quite excelled herself in conversation that night. I saw that Mr. Devereux was interested and I was delighted with the success of my secret plan. . In the course of the evening John Au brey, my lover, came in. Of course I claimed Joffn as my lover, though he was a nice young man of twenty, and I a mere child of a girl, hardly sixteen, he had beaued me to parties and concerts all one winter, and froli me a dozen of times that i I wa the sweetest, prettiest, most lovable ' girl ;n all Uartiord. So tliat fflicn doun came in I went and sat down by him in a . . - cosy corner, and lelt Aunt Jauie me ..u mrerfnin fllr. 1 loverr-n v a Wall Whicn i thought at first kerned to suit all around. U arouna. But after a little time I saw John cast- i , nr. ty ms uneasy clance3 toward where ilr. Le- 7 . , . , , cof vereux, looking superbly handsome, sat ui k.s wuu u y aun,, ou needn t bcjealous of hmi, John. I said; "he is only my teacher.. John started, and leaned back in his seat without saying a word. k either of the gentlemen stayed very late, John going away directly after Mr. Deverenx. and I went to my rm elat-, ed with my pro-penty, or rather the pros-, perity of my plans. I did not need assistance in my studies be.ore Mr Derereux came apm, and af-, ter a short time it came to be a re'iulari tiling for him to spend an evening once or twice a week with ns. With us, I say, because 1 could see that, though he ad mired my Aunt Kathcrine very much, he had too good taste to monopolize her com pany entirely, to the exclusion of mine. I enjoyed these evenings very much. It seemed to me that Mr. Devereux grew re markably agreeable very fiut. Sometimes John would come in, but John seemed to have grown strange and moody of late. I thought it was because Mr. Devereux was at our house ?o much, and endeavor ed to please him by extra attention when he did spend an evening wiih s kut it didn't seem to be of much use. 1 rtCfnt- ed iiis silence and inattention to me one nisht, and after that he didn't come near us for nearly a month. But we seemed to get alons just as well without him at least I did. though Aunt Eatherine asked me a number of times about the cause of his absence. "lie is sulky. I suppose. Don't fret about me. Aunt ICathcrine, it don't trouble me at all," I said. A few evenings after, John made his appearance, and entered the parlor where Mr. Devereux and I sat playing chess, while my Aunt was writing a letter at a side table. I thought it would be rather awkward for him at first, but he came for ward easily, and after Fpeaking to Mr. De vereux and myself, crossed the room and seated himself by my aunt. Pleased with this arrangement, I devoted myself to my game, and did not look around for some half hour afterward, when my attention was attracted by the sound of John Au brey's voice, which, though low was re markably earnest and emphatic. I turn ed my head arid gazed in wonder. My aunt's cheeks were flushed crimson, and John's face, as seen by me for an instant, was pale and agitated. J turned to Mr. Devereux in astonishment, but he only smiled slightly, made a move, and then waited for me to do the same. But I could not play from the excitement, caus ed by the scene I had observed the mo ment before, and lost the game through inattention. "Shall we play again ?" said Mr. Dever eux. I shook rnv head, and he replaced the pieces in a box, and then took up a book. The next moment John arose, and my aunt went with him to the door. She did not oime back for some time, and when she did, Mr. Devereux was preparing to go. He looked up quickly at herentrance, and then asked laughingly, if it was ami cably settled, and if he might congratu late her? She blushed, but said, "Yes, at some other time," and bade him good night. I stood by in round-eyed wonder and bewilderment. When the door closed on him my aunt looked steadily at me a moment, then laughed, and finally burst into hysteric tears. I was frightened. She put her arms about me. " "Addie, are you sure you didn't like John?" she asked. "I believe I did a little last winter, but don't at all now." "Are you sure 1" "Quite sure," I replied, "he is so sul len." "Wait ! do you know who you are talk ing to?" "What do you mean, Aunt Catherine?" "I am John Aubrey's betrothed wife, Addie," and she laughed, and then cried again. I stood mutely staring at her. At last I found words to say : "Why, 'aunt Katherine, I thought it was I whom John was in love with !" She shook her head. "And I thought Mr. Devereux was in love with-you." "You must ask him about that," she said, smiling through her tears. And I did ask him the next evening while we stood by an open window, and my Aunt Katherine sat by John Aubrey in the cosey corner -where I used to sit with him. ..T ... , ,. , "Is.it possible that you haven t been courting Aunt Katherine all this time, Mr. Devereux ?" I said. How he laughed ! "Is it possible that you don't know that I have been courting you all this time ?" "Mr. Devereux !" I exclaimed. But he wasn't jesting and neither was I, when I promised a year later to "love, honor and obey him" through life. John Aubrey and my Aunt Katharine - , , , - . , . , " ua,,r " r, Z ?unt declared was a great saving of troub- le and wedding-cake. God's Wonders in Creation. That any creature could be found to fabricate a net, not less ingenious than that of the fisherman, for the capture of its prey; that it should fix it in the right place, and then patiently await the result, in is proceeding so strange that if we did not 6ee it done daily before our eyes by the eomon house spider and garden spi- der, it would seem wonderful. But how much is our wonder increased when we j thiok of the complex fabric of each single i thread; and then of the mathematical pre- cision and rapidity with which, in certain j cases, the net itself, is constructed: and to I to this, as an example of wonders j which the most common things exhibit J when carefully examined, the net of the ' garden spider, which consists of two dif ferent kinds of silks. The threads form ing the concentric circles are composed of a silk much more elastic than that of the ravs, and are studded over with minute globules of a viscid gum, sufficiently ache-' sivc to retain any unwary fly which comes in contact With it. A net of average dir tensions is estimated to contain eighty- K' ""'ut,,uu iuiwj uuuuhka .iva B1J.IJ, . of the globules; and a large net of fourteen : or sixteen inches in diamiter, one hundred ' and twenty thousand; and yet such a net ; be completed by one species in about j minutes on an average, if no inter- I ruption occurs. -'. - ' - Not Lost. The following beautiful sen timent in regard to the future condition of our children, is from the pen of Henry Ward Beeeher. "When God pives me a babe, I say, 'I ! thank God for this lamp lit in my family.' And when, after it has been a light in my household for one or two years, it pleases God to take it away, I can take the cup j bitter or sweet. I can say, 'My light has ; gone out; my heart is sacked; my hopes are desolated; my child is lost!' or I can say in the spirit of Job, 'The Lord gave, I an.d the Lord hath taken away, blessed be nameof the Lord.' It has pleased trod to take five children from me; but I never lost one, and never shall." A Bible and a newspaper in every house, a good school in every district all studied and appreciated as they merit are the principal support of virtue, morality and civil liberty. Fran 7:P.n. ! Unknown Tongues. BY M. SCHELE DE VERE, OF THE UNIVERSITY OF VA. , , , . forth hs warmest affections. The tiny mouse, that finds a home in the hut of the Alpine herdsman, becomes there so tame, that it points its silky ears and ap add proaches at the whistle of the Senner, when at night he returns to his meal 6harper, all their instincts more fully de will vei0,ie(i. The leading cow, with the larg fortv r : . : i jjer jjorae, or her own favorite pasture jg on tne mountain, so when she had to part with her love and her pride, she wUl weep bitter tears; and many are the instances of cows that have died when do the ived 0f their harmonious ornament. y , 9--nMiti. and their kin . ' . ... r , - . i an s,'Utlle 3 Ur "'5 , m "j " , r .,.,. rl 7: ti, hooded gentle words of aflection. lho liooaea e , , . . o,. vt snake as many of us have seen in the Jast , . . J , ft . , firet ca!,tured. But theso-callcd conjuror rouses t u fc bl(ws d thicat3. the next momont hoever the blandest wQrda woq nud herheart and weave a charm- h fa craft snako can. Anon he r.iscjj band M if rfk rf n . . fa . M It Li a siht of gie beauty, this combat between man amcrpent. Each watches attention-the dusky Indian d . h b f he cua. J . . : r.,t raising the strange spcetacleinark that surrounds her elitterins eves, and gather ing venom for the fatal bite. Now with soothing words, and now with soft caress es, he tames her fierce temper. Then he calls in the aid of music, and soon the ani mal raises her Lead as if in a rapture of enjoyment, and in a short time learns to weave quick mazes in the air, to twist and twine in most beauteous lines, and follow the master's bank wherever it bids her. Pliny tells us of sons of the African desert, who, with- their eyes' glances alone, could rule over serpents. That race of men is lost ; but many a Nubian may be seen at the upper falls of the Nile, who can imi tate ith suprising precision, the call of the reptile?, and tempt them to come forth from every forner and crevice. Vipers, also, and a0". arc neither deaf nor dumb, and cannot heip .'"stennig to the voice of temptation. They were, . ' is well known, formerly much used in medicine ; and the precious thcriak, known at the time of Nero, and still man ufactured in Venice, Holland, and France, consists mainly of the llesh of vipers. So poor, persecuted animals, they are caught in all countries, and who would have thought it? almost always by' means of their acute hearing. In Italy, grim, swarthy men, of gipsy cast, are seen to stand in the center of largo hoops and then to indulge in strange, fanciful whis lings. After a while an adder is seen gentle to glide up ; another, and still an other appears, no one knows whence; and all gazing with glittering eye at the quaint musician, raise their siotted bodies up against the majiic hoop. The deceiver takes them one by one, with a pair of songs, and thrust them into a has that hanss on his shoulder. The poor, delu ded vipers are then carried to town, and kept by druggist and doctor, or sent in boxes filled with sawdust, alive all over the world. The French, of all nations on earth the most cruel to animals have still a more wicked way of catching adders. They take the first one they obtain, or any other snake they can seize uion, and throwing it into a kettle of boiling oil, there roast it alive. The fearful hissing of the tortured creature is heard by its kindred ; they come from under sunny banks, from the low furze and scrubby bramble bushes, and as they approach they are eagerly seized with hands defend ed by leaf her gloves. Some have said men of Maine, we surmke that it serves them right, because they are very intem perate reptiles. Naturalists wine bib bers themselves have placet! vessels fill ed with wine under hedges and near piles of stones; the thirsty vipers come from Lall sides, and soon getting drunk, fall into the hands ot their captors. Fish have no visible ear, it is said, and no external avenue for sounds from a dis tance. Still, they hear with great accute ness. On the continent of Europe, few castles and villas are without the favorite pond, and its broad-backed carp and speckled trout. They all learn to obey the Ringing of a belt, and come in eager haste to seize the morsels that youag and old are fond of seeing hem catch. La cepede even speaks of some carps of ven erable age that were kept in the gardens of Tuileries for more than a hundred years. They would come not only at the given signal, but actually knew the names that were given them and rose to the surface as they were called. They were, however, haughty and proud, for they listened only to those they loved, and in vain even tempting morsels, were offered by strangers The royal pensioners disdained to receive alms; they took only the crumbs that fell from the table of their master, the mon arch. But even plebeians among fishes hear ; and it is not the fastidious carp only that cannot bear the grating sound of sawmills, and has his nerves shaken by firing of guns. Sturgeons also are fright ened by loud cries, and thus driven into the fisherman's net ; and the bleak-fish detests a drum so that he rather surren ders than endure its abominable rolling. An Italian has, of late proved in a bril liant manner, that fishes cannot only hear, but actually obey and execute orders, that, in fact, they show much higher en dowments than they have heretofore been thought to profess. He has tamed a varie ty of fishes, from the humble tench to'the gorgeous gold fish of China, and as he bids them they come and go, they rise or sink, and display their rich, ever-changing col ors. Nay they preform a miniature drama ; a pike seizes a trout, and lets it go or brings it up to the surface, as the masters commands with his voice. it needs no proof to establish the hearing of higher animals; but even the lowest among them, and those that are almost mute show their appre-1 ciation of sounds when carefully watch ed. The shapeless hedgehog, when tamed, will uncoil at the word of his'owner, and the grotesque seal raiserfits uncouth head, with such beautiful eyes, high out of the water, to litten to music on shore. It loves to hear gentle voices, and is "grcat- ful for kind words. Of all things else, they bind it firmest to its master, and call and his rest. Even with us, it has been known lo come timidly out of its corner, to listen to a song. The ancients say much of the delight with which the grazing herd listens to the flute ot the shepherd. Ihe bwits, on his meadows and Alps, also knows lull well hovv exquisite is the ear of his magnificent nttlo Thow in tVir r-rentr irperlnm than in the narrow valley below, in the pUre bracing air of lolty mountains, with a clear blue sky above and rich lragrant ,v,ttIlr, .,rnllri tim nil tl.pir n iw or and station. Jl U2iX3, IB Ll'Jl IIUUIIMJIUUS Ol UC1 UUU' bhe shows it in her more ' proud and haugh- stately gait, she : ty carriage. Woe to the bold intruder who dale to precede her! But woe also to the wanderer froni another heard ! She knows, and they all know, in an in stant, the tone of a bell that belongs not to their set ; and, with eager curiosity, often with savage hatred, they run to meet the stranger and show her no mercy. But, oh ! the grief, when the bell is taken from her! As upon leaving the stable of Soma animals, on the other hand, de- test certain sounds. The Sophist Acteon, in his seventeen books on the nature of animals, speaks of the 6tron3 aversion Greek wolves bad U the flute, and tells the oft repeated story of Phytochares, the musician, who saved his life from the fangs, of a hungry rck by playang, with heroic petnorverence on that instrument. 1 he Far West of our own days has the ff m account, only, here it is a modern I'nddle,' and the poor owner is caught in a cabin surrouruWI hv fi .r maJ starvation, r.7 .""" fays anu ttiey ir i t . t I i .V "orror: h rests lor a moment, an(j th"v arc rr-arlvf-n Md, m j,: 7r- i. nauy ro rusn upon mm. iiCh on a rafter nt i.,t .;. ti,,. .,, ".f r:,at f 8 18 th9 !.utl , F..v...a iuroua tneuark Hours of night. String after string is b broken, his arm is urea, nis hands are benumbed. But, just as the List string snaps, as his hand sinks powerless at his side; and with exulting yells and glaring eyes, the blood-thirsty host leaped upwards, the bright light of day broaks through the forest, and the wolve. true children of the night, flee in terror. Even the fierce lion, it is siid cannot bear the cock' crowing, and, like the great Wallestien. dreads it more than all things earthly. Of the horse, wo are taught that "At theshrill trumpetssoandhoiriefcshisear." and . . At the clash of arms, his ear afar vi'i t.heJ'--P sound aud vibrates to the war." ho docs not know the account of the Libyan mares, that could only bo milked when tamed by soft music, and of the horses of the Sybarites, that had been taught to dance after pleasing melodies, and then, whth bearing their masters in to battle, suddenly heard, in the enemy's ranks the well remembered sounds, "in stantly set to dancing instead of fighting? The same love of music has been more harmlessly employed in comparatively modem times. The eccentric Lord Hoi land, of the reign of William III., used to give his horses a weekly concert in a covered gallery, specially erected for that purpose. He maintained that it cheered their hearts and improved their temper, and an eye-witness says they seem ed to be greatly delighted therewith. How Watches are Made. the numbeof the watch to V.'al attcctea thamfcthe t d2sired bJ readih. F. a the f.v;tory of the American VatCh Company at Waltham, in company with Mr. KobL-inson, ?ne of the proprietors. We make the following extract from Mr. Willis' account of the establishment, in the last number of the Home Journal : It is a curious necessity of a watch fac tory that it should form a part ?f a beau tiful landscape a secluded place, a nioist sou, or the bank ol a river being requisite to its operations, l ne original site of the factory at Iioxbury was abandoned, bu cause the light and dusty character of the soil, and the degree to which the atmos phere was charged with dust by the wind, and the industrial movements of the neighborhood, material interfered with the nicety of the work. Hence was chos en the present beautiful site on the bend of the Charles river, where the hundred or two of male and female operatives, as they sit at their benches, regulating the different movements of the. machinery, can look out of the windows before them upon bits of river scenery that would en chant an artist. It is another poetic peculiarity of watch making, (at Waltham, at least,) that the more delicate fingering of woman is found to work best at it. Of the large number of person employed in the fac tory, more than half, if I observed right ly, were of the sisterhood left idle by the sowing-machine a happy compensation of Providence! Gradually, in this way, prob ably, the in-door employment of all trades and vocations that do not require muscu lar strength will be given over to woman. The watch factory is of brick, two stor ies in height, and inclosing a quardrangu lar court, aud along the closely-placed in ner and outer window, stand" the work benches at which are seated the succes sions of operatives, each of the one hun dred and twenty parts of the watch re quiring separate manufacture and adjust ment. What impressed me particularly, as I walked through these long galleries of seated and patient artifices, was the exceeding delicacy and minuteness of it all the inevitable machinery accomplish ed with such powerful exactness the al most invisible wonders of transformation and construction, and human aid seeming only needed to supply the material - end measure the work, with movements of hand scarce perceptible. The successions of minute instruments were like long ranges of little fairies, each weaving its cobweb miracles, under a care ful sentinel's superintending eye. It is the novelty of the Waltham factory that this is so machinery doing the hundred little dexterities that have hitherto been done only by the variable hand of the workman. With the machinery once regulated, therefore, any number of watch es of the same size and pattern are made with invariable exactness all equally sure to keep time ; whereas, formerly, each watch was only a probability by itseif. The minuteness of very essential parts of the watch astonishes the visitor. A small heap of grain was shown to us, look ing like iron filings, or grains of pepper from a pepper castor, apparently the mere dust of the machine which turned them out and these, when examined with a microscope, were seen to be perfect screws, each to be driven to its place with a screwdriver. It is one of the Waltham statistics, which is worth remembering, that "a single pound of steel, costing but fifty cents, is manufactured into one hun dred thousand screws, which are worth eleven hundred dollars." The poetie part of a watch, of course, is what the truth in a woman's heart has been so often compared to the jewel up on which all its movements are pivoted. and which knows no wearing away nor variation ; and to see these precious truth jewels and their adjustment was one of my main points of curiosity. The aid of the microscope was again to be ealled in, to see these the precious stones, as we first saw them in the glass vial, resembling grains of brilliant sand. They are rubies, sapphirs, or chrysolites, and to be drilled by the diamond's point into pivoted reli ances. The progess is " thus described in the article to which I am indebted for my statistics : "The jewels are first drilled with a dia mond, and them opened out .diamond dust, on a soft hair-like iron wire, their perforations having certain microscopic differences. In like manner the .pivots of steel that are to run in these jewels, without wearing out in the least, must be exquisitely polished. By this opera tion their size it slightly reduced. The jewels and pivots, after being thus finish ed, are classified by menns of a gauge, so delicately graduated ns to detect the dif ference of the ten thousandths part of an inch. The jewels are clarified by means of the pivots, the jewels and pivots of the same' number fitting each other exactly. The sizes of the several pivots and jewels in each watch are carefully recorded un der its number, so that if any one of eith er shall tail in any part of the world, by part dosired may and cheaply replaced, with unerring cer tainty. On this, and all other operations, too minute for detailed description the first, cutting of the stamps and dies, from sheet of brass, hardening and forming the bar rels and chambers, coiling and fastening the main springs, gearing wheels, and cutting their teeth, sharping of pinions and axles, cutting of escape wheels, burn ing and marking the porcelian dials, and final putting together and Adjusting of the various parts the superintendent, Mr. Denison, discoursed to us most inter estingly. I could not but think, as I lis tened to the philosopher of mechanic art, telling us these beautiful secrets with his quiet concentrativeness of voice and eye, and his brief, expressed language, how much better it was than the seeing of a play or the reading of a novel. My two hours of following him and listening to his "discourse with illustrationi," were q TO MY WIFE. Come to me, dearest I'm lonely withont thee Day time and night time Cm thinking about thee; Night time and djy time in dreams I ncliold thee Unwelcome tiio waking which ceases to fold thec; Come to me, darling, my sorrows to lighten. Come in thy beauty, to bless and to brightt-n. Come in thy womanhood, meekly and lowly. Come in thy lovinguess, queenly and holy I Swallows will flit round tho desolate ruin, T'-lling of Sprinz. and its joyous rncwinc: And thoughts of thy love, a:id its manifold treasure. Arc circling my heart with a promise of 1-leisure. 0 Spring of my spirit 1 O May of my bosom! Shiuo out on my soul till it-tourgvon and blossom; The waste of my lifo has a rose-root within it. And thy fondness aloue to the sunshine c:iu win it. Figure that moves like a song through the even Features lit up by a reflex of Heaven Smiles coming seldom, but childlike and simple. Aud opening their eyes from tiie heart of a dimple O, thanks to the Saviour, that even by sctuiiug Is left to Uio ezile to brighten his dreaming. You have been glad when you knew I was eladden'u: Dear, are you sail now. to bear I am saadeued ? Our hearts ever answer in tune and iu time, love. As octave to octave, end rhyme uuto rhyme, love. 1 cannot but weep but your tears will be flowing: . You canuot sinilo but my ciicck. will be glowing 1 would not di-j without you at my aide, Tove. You will not linscr when I will have died, love. Come to me, dear, ere I di of my sorrow; Ki.e on my gloom Jike the sun of to-morrow. Strong, striit, aud loud as the wo.Us which I speak, love, liove; With a song on your lip, and a smile on yoor check, C line, for my b?art in your ub.ouce is weary Uat. for my spirit is sickened aud dreary: Come to the arms which alone should caress thco. Come to the heart which is throbbing to ress tuie. THE BLUNDERBUSS. "TO SHOOT FOLLY." Sin, the Cause of Death. WARREN, OHIO, Feb. 14, 1832. Stop reader! don't throw down the pa per thus angrily; how do you know the editor is a religious fanafic? read first, and then judge whether he is not just of your way of thinking, or, rather, whether you are not of his way of thinking. Not long since wo attended tho funeral of a lovely child, it was the idol of its parents, and, indeed, the pride of the whole neighborhood.. Th '""TCi vf" rents seenied incon-olable at their loss, and many a heavy heart beat in sympa thy with them at that mournful meeting. The minister in his eloquent discourse, attributed the untimely death, to the in scrutable ways of Pioi-iJcnce, and descanted learnedly on the "transgression of our first parents," that thereby disease, with all its attendant train of suffering and misery, jind death, was first introduced into this, otherwise, desirable world of ours. Now. wo are not disposed to dispute with the learned man about that position, but could not avoid thinking, during the discourse, that the death of ihe child might be traced to sins of a more recent date, than that committed in jwradi.se so long ago. It was no uneOuimon sight, to see this once laughing, sprightly child, at church, and in the street, with Its neck, breast, shoulders, arms and legs, ul.-nost entirely bare, and that, too, frequenti, when its mother would draw her shaw'J closely around her otherwise protected ccst, to secure her from the damp winds, w'hose first touch would send a chill through 1 be whole system. And strange as it may appear, although a mother, she never appeared to be im pressed with the idea, that the child could be affected by. the cold or changing weath er. It mattered not how cold or warm, how wet or dry, if the child was dretsed "fit to be seen,""it must be thus exposed. True, it had clothes that were comfortable, aud was permitted to wear them when at home when "company' was not there.' As a natural consequence, this changing from close to loose, from thick to thin, from dress to nudity, was too much for the infant constitution, it gave way, we hare recorded thfi rest. Is the cause of the childs death inscru table, and past finding out ? Indeed there is scarcely a man or woman in the whole country, however robust and healthy they niay be, that could long endure such treatment as this. No, not one in fifty would live a year, if exposed to such ex tremes of dress and weather, as this little child was. But ch'Jdrcn, are not alone, sufferers from this tin. Those who should know better, are too often its victims. How frequent ly have we all heard the expression, that "Miss A. or B. took a severe cold at a par ty, which brought on consumption, and she was taken in the bloom of youth? How many stricken households are scat tered thick o'er the country, whose tale of grief has this same foundation ? Need we trace the history of the past back six thousand years, for the sin that brings death into the world, and takes so much of youth and loveliness out? No, verily, it "is in our very midst, we can scarcely go into the streets without meet ing it, never into the assembly room, or social gathering. Mothers, you who have little joy-producing, happiness-engendering, smiling prat tlers, forget not that "the wages of sin is death." We do not wish to be under stood as taking a theological view of the subject, but merely a common sense sur vey of the matter." AVe shudder at the infant mortality lists, but the exercise of a grain of reason, will dispel ail the mys tery, and we almost wonder it is no great er. If those who are old enough to know better, persist in offering themselves on the altar of Fashion, let them go, but we protest, in behalf of the little ones, who are not competent to take care of them selves, and if mothers have no more sense than to expose children as above repre sented, let ns have public guardians for their special protection. Letter from Lieut. H. B. CASE—Why he Resigned his Commission. MECCA, O. FEB. 10, 1862. that I have been for some time a .corres pondent of the " Trumbull Democrat," and now that I have resigned the com niiSon that I then held in the Union Ar my, and many of your readers being in terested by having friends in the compa ny of which I was an officer, I have been induced to think that justice to those friends whose relatives have nobly toiled by my side during an arduous campaign, demands that I should give them the rea sons that have induced me to take the steps I have. In. so doing I feel some deliicacy, partly because it is in a degree a personal matter, and partly because I know the embarrassment of attempting an explanation of that character. Your readers will remember, that some time since, in a letter, I gave an account of our departure from Charleston, I took occasion to sav what seemed to me but jus tice to Mr. Brown, Chaplain of the 7th Kegiment. Perhaps that letter was writ ten under somewhat excited feelings, but they did not prompt me to say anything untrue. Of course I wrote with full knowledge of consequences, and was cau tious to tell nothing that I had not the best evidence for. Neither that letter, or any other written by me, contained anything I would hesitate to meet under proper circumstances. That particular letter contained truths that were distasteful to Col. Tyler, and as a consequence, while sitting in my tent one evening, a messengercameto me, say ing, Col. Tyler wishes to see you at his quarters. I reported to the Colonel. He informed me he had a letter he wished to read to me, and proceedeed to do so. He then asked it 1 wrote it. 1 replied amr matively. He then began calling me names, saying that I was a " two-6ided, miserable, lowlived, s n of a 1) h a misorable cowardly pup," 4c. He continued in this style until he had exhausted his stock of words, I suppose, and stopped. I inquired if he was through? intending to leave his tent, without any words. With an oath, he demanded what I thought of it ? I replii!. Sir, I have written nothing but the truth. CoL. Tyler then struck me a blow in the face, and a short scufBo ensued, which whs soon ended by tho interference of an officer, present. Of course I was unprepared for any such demonstration from a Colonel of a Kegi ment. It is due CoL Tyler to say that he ex pressed his regrets at having run into a passion to such an extent, as to be guilty of striking one of Ids officers. But whilo I could perhaps forgive so rash a measure, yet I couli cot consent to re main under a man of such a character, and hence I resigned. Besides, his treat ment toward me was no better than he has shown to several officers. And there was no reason to suppose that I might not be called upon to enact similar scenes, whenever he should get in a whimsical way. It was the first insult that I have ever received frcyn a sober man, and I cotifoss I was unprepared to receive it from such a source. To talk of remain ing with such a man was to talk of impos sibilities. It could not bo done. I sincerely regret, having to leave a Company of noble men to whow I have become attached, and have given the above statement because I feel that it is due the relatives of those brave men. Should they wish further" explanation, they are at liberty to write to Lieut. Col. Creighton, Major Casement. Major Salter, Capt. Wood, or any others that may know of the circumstances, or of my con duct while in the Regiment. At all events, no inducements could havo led mo to do less than I did". I am respectfully yours. HALBERT B. CASE. Douglass Jerrold's Wit and Humor. Treason is like diamonds there's noth ing to bo made of it by the small trader. In all the wedding cake hope is the sweetest of the plums. iue cuaractcr that needs 4a w to mend Ii is hardly worth tho tinkering. Earth is hero so kind that just tickle her with a hoe and she laughs with a har vest. I've heard say that Wedlock's like wine not to bo properly judged of till the second glass. It's my belief that when woman" was made jewels were invented only to make her the more mischievous. Some jxropleare so fond of ill-luck that they run half way to meet it. Men's hearts ! Do what you will, the things won't break. I doubt if even they'll chip. After all there is something about a wed ding gown prettier than any gown in the world. He kissed her, and promised. Such beautiful lips ! Man's usual fate he was lost upon the coral reefs. That scoundrel, sir! Why, he'd sharp en a knife upon his father's tombstone to kill his mother !' Character's like money; when you've a great deal you may risk some; for, if you lose it, folks still believe you've plenty to spare. Fix yourself upon the wealthy. In a word, take this for a golden rule through he never, never have a friend that's poor er tan yourself. It's odd how folk3 will force disagree able knowledge upon us crab apples, that we must eat and defy the stomach ache. Women are all alike. When they're maids they're .Tiild as milk; once make them' wives, and they lean their backs against their marriage certificate and defy you. Ask a woman to a tea party in the gar den of Eden, and she'd 1 sure to draw up her eyelids and scream, 'I can't go without a new gown.'. We are poor fools and. moke sad mis takes; but there is goodness hived, like wild honey, in strange nooka and corners of the world. 'As for ancestry,' says Smoke, 'trnth to speak, I am one of those who tak.e the cuckoo for their crest, and for their iu ot to 'Nothing." Has not the mazic of the passion hung prison walls with garlands, and, like tho sun ot old, urew hidden narmonies out oi the very flint ? Everybody has imagination when mon ey is the thought the theme, lhe com mon brain will bubble to a golden wand. We are to apt to bury our accounts along with our benefactors ; to enjoy the triumphs ot others as though they were the just property of ourselves. Every man talks of his neighbor's heart. as though it was his own watch a thing to be seen in all its works, and abused for retrular going. We live in twopenny times, when chiv alry goes to church in the family coach, and the god of marriage bargains for his wedding breakfast. He would eat oysters while his neigh bor's house was in flames always provid ed that his own was insured. Coolness I he's a piece of marble, carved into a broad grin. The marriage of a loved child may seem to a parent a kind of death. Yet here in a father pays but a just debt Wedlock gave him the good gift ; to wedlock, then, he owes it. A woman's heart, like a singing bird in a cage, if neglected starves and dies ; but for men s hearts, why they re tree birds of prey vultures and hawks or thievish magpies at the best. What nature has hung about our hearts passes our surserv with skiu to cut away In our stoieLsm we think it done, but the wound keeps open, and the blood still runs. Certainly man's wicked an:el is in mon ey. I often catch myself witn something bold as a lion bouncing from my heart, when the shilling rattles, and the lion as bold as the weazel slinks back again. To get appearance upon debt is no doubt, every bit as comfortable as to get high upon the nick. The figure may be expanded ; but how the muscle of the heart, how all the joints are made to crack for.it ! In the old poetic time the same fairy that would lead men estray for the sake of the mischief, would by way of reconi- iense, churn tho butter and trim up the louse, while the household sleep. Now money is the fairy of our mechanical generation. At an evening party, Jerrold was look ing at the dancers. Seeing a very tall gentleman waltzing with a remarkably short lady, he said to a friend at hand 'Ilump ! "there's the mile dancing with the mile-stone.' If all the rascals who under the sem blance of a snug respectability, sow the world with dissensions and d'.-ceit, were fitted with a halter, rope would doubla its price, and tho executioner set up his carriage. . In this world truth can wait ; she's used to it. Habitual intoxication is the epitome of every crimo. Make your bed a a coffin, and your coffin will be as a bed. Money is like the air you breathe ; if you have it not you die. Children are earthly- idols that hold us from the stars. Psacs Peae is better than iov. Joy is an uneasy guest, and alwavson tiptoe to depart. It tires and wears us out, and yet keeps us tearing that tne nen ""f ment it will be gone. Peace is not so it comes more quietly, it stays more con- tentedlv, and it n" "-"""."-" , atrpntL nor aives us one anxious fore casting thoucht. Therefore. let us pray for peace, nisiaegmoi v -r .i n w; f.i.ii.lrfn: and if we have it in our hearts, we shall not pine for joy, though its bright wings never toncu us whilo we tarry in the world. The Geography of Rebellion. . It would bo interesting to study the Geography of tho Kebellion; to trace its progress and developnient-the lines which its bloody path describe upon the map of tho country. It would be found that.iiko other storms, it depended upon certain conditions of the atmosphere, moved in certain determine! cinles, and obeyed certain elementary laws. It would" l-o found that it bvguu in the ritics, and by the shores of the sea; that it followed the course of the ocean coast and the river; that it progressed in tho wako of etun boats, and'followed the windings of bays and estuaries; that it stuck to tho low lands and the marshes; that it worked it way slowly and doubtfully into the inte rior, and has obtained even yet but pre carious foothold in the more pastorM re gions of the South. It would be found that the points first tainted weio Charles ton and Savannah places commanding both the sea and river; that the diseoto followed up the streams of South Caroli na snd Georgia, attacked Mobile, New Orleans) and Galveston, worked its way up the Al tbiima and Mississippi rivers, struck at all the larger towns, tainting evenCairo and other places in Southern Illinois, and meeting its first check at St. Louis. Another suggestive fact would be de veloped: It would be found that tho Re bellion had its beginning whero Slavery was tho strongest; that its intensity was measured by the density of that great so cial curse; that as the proportion of slaves diminished, it grew weak; and that in those places where chattelism constituted a mere fraction of the population it was resisted, and is resisted still. Beuufort. where the slaves outnumbered the whites five to one, was the nursing place of Trea son; Eastern Tennessee, where free men aro tho rule and slaves the exception, re mains loyal ! And in this curious phenomonon lies our chief hope for the salvation of the UruOa. A largo proportion of the terri tory of the seceded States is comparative ly untainted by Shivery. A region of country constituting what may be term ed the "Highlands of the South" a re gion of country comprised cf the ridges and slopes of the Alleghany and Cumber land Mountains, together with their vari ous spurs and projections a region of country which has had no part or parcel in this Kebellion, but has on the other hand, given indubitable evidence of loy alty may, if once thoroughly penetrated by our armies, be converted into an im portant auxiliary of the loyal cause. Western Virginia is already emancipated from the tyranny of Secession. Eastern Tennessee is waiting to receive our troops with open arms. The mountain-i of Geor gia, cf Alabama, of North, and even So ath Carolina, to some feeble extent, at least, are attached to the old flag. The South U almost bisected by this mountainous belt of semi-loyalty. From the Eastern base of the Alleghanies and Cumberland, to Montgomery or Charleston to Savan nah or Hilton's Head is not a very long" distance. By occupying Eastern Tennes see, stimulating the mouutainers of Geor gia and North Carolina, and possessing Nashville the Rebellion would be broken, in two its head would be severed from its trunk. This mountainous region comprises en area of eighty-five thousand square miles an area more than double that of New Jersey, Connecticut, Khode Island, Mass achusetts, Vermont and New Hampshire combined ! And yet all this vast country has done nothing to abet, but has dono much to resist, the rebellion. . It will be curious to note how small an item Slavery is in the sum total of the population. In the thirty-eight countiea of Western Virginia, out of a population" of 283,706, there are only 13,8'2'J slaves. In Southwestern Virginia a region reach ing into the Cumberland Mountains' there are only 8,000 slaves to 70,000 free men or ten freemen to one chattel. In the Eastern Highlands of Kentucky the disparity is still greater ; while in Ens Lorn Tennessee, the Free element is over--wheiniing. And yet there are those who tell us that Slavery is not the quickening spirit of this rebellion. Albany Eceninj Journal. Frauds on the Government. .Kepresentative Dawes of Massachusetts? lately made a scathing speech on- the frauds perpetrated on the government. The first item is contract for cattle to be furnished at TVas-hington: "This contract was. made so that the' first twenty-two hundred head of cattle furnished was charged at a rate which en abled their original contractor to 'sub-let it, in twenty-four hours after, to a man in New York who did know tho price of beef, so that he put into his pocket with out stirring from his chair, tKirty-two thousand dollars, and the men who actui ally furnished the cattle in question, put into their pocket twenty-six thousaad-dolt-lars more, so that the contract under which these twenty-two hundred head of cattle were furnished to the army was so made that the profit of fifty-eight thou sand dollars was realized over the fair market price." Then comes a paragraph about shoes: "Sir, poorly as the army is shod to-day, a million of shoes have already been worn out and a million more are being manu factured, and yet upon every one of these shoes there has been a waste of seventy five cents. Three quarters of a million of dollars have been already worn out, and another three quarters of a million of dol-. lars upon shoes now being manufactured." That was a pretty fat contract, and juc shoes two pairs for every man for six months. . But here is a horse operation: "A regiment of cavalry lately reached Louisville, one thousand strong, and the board of army officers there, appointed for the purpose, have condemned four hun dred and eighty-five out of the thousand horses as utterly worthless. The man who examined these horses declared, up on his oath, that there was not ne of them that was worth twenty dollars: they were blind, spavined, ring-boned, afflicted with the heaves, with the glanders, and with every disease that horse-flesh is heir to. These four hundred and eighty-five horses cost the government, before they were mustered into the sen-ice, fifty-eight thousand two hundred dollars, besides more than an additional thousand dollars to transport them from Pennsylvania to Louisville, where they were condemned and cast off." "There is a contract for the supply of . one million and ninety thousand muskets at twenty-eight dollars apiece, when the -same quality of muskets are manufactured ' at Springfield for thirteen and a half a- piece; and an ex-member ot Congress is now iu Massachusetts trying to get ma chinery made by which he will be able to manufacture in some six months hence. at twenty-one dollars apiece, those rifled muskets manufactured to-day in mat ar mory for thirteen dollars and a half." Then we come to th.e supply of wood for the Potomac division of the army upon which the speaker says: . "There is an appropriation, also, for the . supply of wood to the army. This con tractor is pledged the payment of seven dollars a cord for all the wood delivered . to tho different commands wood collect ed after the labor of the soldiers them-., selves had cut down the trees to clear the r ground for their batteries, and then this . contractor employs the army wagons to- . draw it to the several camps, and he has no further trouble than to draw his seven dollars for a cord, leaving the government . to draw the wood." ' ... There are manv ne of the same sort. " The gentleman closes by saving that the treasury cannot stand such a drain fur . sixty days, and that if it is not stopped providence wul decide the matter in ques tion for us. Mr. Duwes republican.