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And yet his pitiful plea is that he had to go with his State. Did he have to steal millions of property from a nation that had fed and clothed him, and heaped honors upon him, and to steal it before his State had made a step towards leaving the Union?Phila. Inquirer, Sept. 3.

A UNION man flogged a secessionist in Wyoming, Pa., recently, for expressing treasonable and riotous sentiments. The latter brought the case before a Justice of the Peace, who decided that the flogging was a constitutional act under the circumstances.Fitzgerald's City Item, May 18.

GEN. MCCLELLAN'S SONG.-A musical lady friend has made the discovery that Gen. McClellan's speech is well adapted to go as a song to the John Brown tune. Now, as the soldiers will sing that tune in preference to any other, we think it highly desirable they should be furnished with better words to it; and who knows but they may be willing to adopt this, which is at least unexceptionable on the score of taste and sentiment. Gen. McClellan is fairly entitled to the reward offered by the National Song Committee.

We have had our last retreat,
We have had our last retreat,
We have had our last retreat,-
McClellan's marching on.

Glory, halle-hallelujah! &c.

We have seen our last defeat,
We have seen our last defeat,
We have seen our last defeat,-
McClellan's marching on.

Glory, halle-hallelujah! &c.

ANECDOTE OF FLOYD.-The following anecdote is told of Floyd, the great Virginian: A few years since a gentleman residing in Richmond, Va., gave a large dinner party to some distinguished men, among whom was Floyd, then a rising man, but whose personal appearance indicated neither mental nor physical superiority, he being a pursy, dark-complexioned man, with crispy, wiry hair. Among the distinguished guests were two Indian chiefs, returning from a visit to their "Great Father," the President -magnificent specimens of their race. Floyd, thinking to compliment them and make them at their ease, told them in a condescending manner, that he could boast of Indian blood in his veins, being a descendant of Pocahontas. One of the chiefs, drawing himself up majestically and disdainfully, and with a look-Boston Evening Transcript, Sept. 13. of contempt upon his noble countenance, said in broken English, "Ugh! no! no! nigur! nigur!" The confusion and dismay of Floyd was complete, and it required all the boasted politeness of Rich

mond to keep the other guests from exploding with laughter. Springfield Republican.

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A PLEASANT VOCABULARY.-A member of the Tiger Rifles," of Louisiana, gives the New Orleans True Delta a very highly colored picture of the exploits of that fierce regiment, at the battle of Bull Run, in the course of which he says:

"Our Lieutenant, old Tom Adrian, than whom a braver man never wore a hair, shouted out, 'Tigers, go in once more-go in, my sons; I'll be greatly, gloriously God d-d if the s-s of b--s can ever whip the Tigers.' Our blood was on fire, life was valueless; the boys fired one volley, then rushed upon the foe," &c.

Such language would naturally "fire the blood" of most men. We should like to know if this is the ordinary vocabulary of the rebel officers -N. Y. Times, Sept. 5.

You stand by me, and I'll stand by you,
You stand by me, and I'll stand by you,
You stand by me, and I'll stand by you,
And victory shall be ours.
Glory, halle-hallelujah! &c.

the so-called President of the so-called Southern ConA REMINISCENCE OF JEFF. DAVIS.-I never saw federacy but once; but the circumstances were such

as to distinctly impress the man's character, as revealed by that authentic medium, natural language, upon my mind. A few days before the inauguration of General Taylor, a lady of Washington who had been a schoolmate of his daughter, invited us to accompany her on a visit of welcome to her old friend. The greeting between them was most cordial; and being introduced to the family of the President elect under such auspices, having no political object to gain by the acquaintance, we soon became on terms of familiar intercourse with the good old man, and improved opportunities to converse with him, not so much because of his antecedents and actual position, nor on account of any special interest which he himself inspired upon a superficial observation, but because a friend with whom I had been in the habit of discussing character had often entertained me with an account of a delightful sojourn at Prairie du Chien in midwinter, when, during a Western tour, he was the guest of General Taylor, whose conscientious and modest as well as patient and intrepid character he had learned to regard with the highest respect and affection.

PATRIOTISM OF PHILADELPHIANS.-At a meeting of the People's party, held at Philadelphia, Sept. 4th, allusion being made to the present war and the necessity of sustaining the Government firmly, a motion It was one of those anomalous social experiences was made and adopted, amid general applause, to ap-nowhere realized except in this land of transition point a committee to wait on Alderman Patchell and request him to administer the oath of allegiance to the whole body of the citizens collectively. The alderman responded with alacrity. The citizens all stood up, with hats off and hands uplifted, and with solemnity and emphasis the oath was administered. At the close there was an outburst of vehement cheering. The meeting evinced the determination to assert the authority of the Republic everywhere, and exact loyalty from every man as a bounden duty.-N. Y. Commercial, Sept. 5.

and of contrasts, to hear the simple-hearted old general talk of his impressions, feelings, and purposes, amid the intrigues of office-hunters, and the ostentation of fashionable and the excitement of political life at Washington on the eve of his inauguration. Not a man of that eager and restless throng seemed more unconscious and unpretending than the one about to be installed as the head of the nation. There was an almost ludicrous contrast between the homely costume and manners, the simple tastes and habits, and the frank and modest conversation of the

central figure, and the reserve or pretension of those surrounding him. He seemed literally "dragged along in the procession" of political aspirants, as Lamb complained was his fate in the march of the new world. More like a martyr than a victor, he "bore his faculties so meekly," that it seemed as cruel to the man to wrest him from his native sphere, as inappropriate and undesirable for the country to place in the Presidential chair one whose aptitudes were almost exclusively for the post of a frontier soldier or thrifty agriculturist. It needed no prescient insight to anticipate that he would become the tool of designing politicians, or the victim of unaccustomed responsibilities.

But these considerations only made him an object of sympathy to a looker-on, and increased the interest to observe from day to day the phenomena of that peaceful transfer of executive power, which, before the present climax of treasonable violence, has been one of the grandest tests and triumphs of free institutions. A well-informed habitué of Washington society, behind all the political scenes and familiar with all the social agencies of the Capital, kept us regularly informed of all that was going on, and interpreted what was perplexing. It was through this invaluable cicerone that I was notified when and where the committee appointed by Congress would wait upon the President elect, and announce to him his election by the people as Chief Magistrate. It was doubtless with a courteous intent that Jefferson Davis was made chairman of this committee,-his

disposition and temper better than a biography. Though ostensibly doing him honor, the speaker seemed to half defy the gray-haired soldier, whose eyes were cast down, and whose hands were listlessly folded-to challenge, as it were, with his Luent self-confidence the uneloquent but intrepid man of action, and make him feel how alien to his Labits and capacity was the arena to which popular enthusiasm had lifted him. In a word, Jefferson Davis then and there appeared like the incarnation of rhetorical impudence; the style of the man was presumptuous and aggressive, and no delicacy of farception or fine instinct of humanity tempered his arrogant ambition; while the modest, patient, faith-ful old hero made the inference and the impression more vivid and repulsive; and the recent and recreant career of Jefferson Davis-the bombastic mendacity, as well as the impudent and vulgar tone of his public communications-make this little episode foreshadow that impersonation of reckless audacity which confronts, with brazen aggressiveness, the free people of the United States.-Y.," in the Boston Tren script, Oct. 15.

GENERAL MCCLELLAN'S SPEECH.-A correspondent takes the poetic license of thus paraphrasing General McClellan's recent patriotic address to his soldiers: We've had our last retreat,

We've seen our last defeat;

You stand by me, and I will stand by you;
Like Lane instructed, we will "put it through."

previous domestic relations with General Taylor sug-N. Y. Herald, Sept. 12.
gesting him as an acceptable medium; though, had
the public been as well informed as the private mind,
such a choice would have been the last adopted. The
duty in question is, of course, only a form, to be ful-
filled with the gravity and the grace adapted to the
occasion, but calling for no display of rhetoric, and
no assumption of official dignity; it is simply a con-
stitutional observance, whereby the representatives
of the nation testify to the result of the ballot, and

RATHER SARCASTIC.-A good story was told by
Gen. Butler, a short time since, in Washington. The
General, speaking of the farce of administering the
oath to captured rebels, and then turning them loose,

state the same to the successful candidate.

related an incident that occurred at Fortress Mource.

Sept. 1.-The New Orleans Picayune says the heavy growth of grass in some of the streets in that city "would pay the mower for his trouble."

ST. LOUIS, Sept. 11.-Mrs. Willow and a free colored woman named Hannah Courtena, were arrested yesterday for selling poisoned pies to the soldiers at Camp Benton.-N. Y. World, Sept. 12.

A scouting party having captured and brought in a live rattlesnake, a question arose as to the disposal of the dangerous customer, when a partially intoxiGeneral Taylor's want of oratorical accomplish-cated soldier hiccoughed, “D—n him! swear hine in, ments, his aversion to display, his modest demeanor, and let him go!" and his conscientiousness, were known as well as his bravery and his patriotism, and would have been respected by a thorough gentleman in the discharge of this simple duty, which needed for its performance only quiet courtesy and respectful consideration. Instead thereof, Jefferson Davis, entering the hotel parlor, where General Taylor was seated, with the aspect of a kindly, honest old farmer, paused about eight feet from him, threw back his shoulders, turned out his right foot, and with precisely the air of a complacent sophomore, began a loud harangue about the "highest office in the gift of a free people," the "responsibility of an oath," and other rhetorical platitudes; the needless pitch of his voice and dogmatism of his emphasis, the complacency and elaboration of his manner and assumption of his tone, in connection with the meek attitude and deprecatory air of his auditor, made the tableau resemble a prosecutor and prisoner at the bar. The difference of age and the former relations of the parties, (Davis having by a runaway match married General Taylor's daughter, who died a few months after,) and the utter novelty of the good old man's position, made the scene, to say the least, a flagrant violation of good taste not less than good feeling.

T+

of those unconscious and therefore au-
s of character, which reveal a man's

THIRTY-FOUR.

BY REV. S. F. SMITH, D. D.
Fling out the banner on the breeze;
Shake out cach starry fold;
Summon the stalwart soldiers forth,
The mighty, and the bold-
The bell of Freedom from its tower
Its solemn call has tolled.

The sound sweeps wildly o'er the land,
Sweeps o'er the bounding sea;

It echoes, from each mountain-top,
The anthem of the free;

It snaps the chain which sin has forged
It sings for liberty.

Marshal the legions for the fight,

The youthful and the brave; Stand for the noble and the right,

The glorious Union save:

Stand for the cause for which their blood Our patriot fathers gave.

Dread not the angry foeman's rage;

Dread not the tempest's crash; Dread not the billows, though the cliffs Along the shore they lash; Dread not the awful thunder's roar, Nor lightnings' piercing flash.

Above the cloud, the brilliant sky

Shines in immortal blue;

And light, like Heaven's approving smile,
Streams, in its glory, through;

Be patient, till the strife is o'er;
Have faith to dare and do.

With willing heart Heaven's high behest Fulfil without alarm;

The foe has planted for our hand,

And nursed the conqueror's palm;
And He that bade the sea "Be still,"
The stormy waves will calm.

Then fling the banner to the wind-
The emblem of the free;

Strike the sweet harp-tones that proclaim
The reign of Liberty;

And bid the melody rebound

From every trembling key.

And count each star that studs the blue,
Whate'er the past has been,

A wayward wanderer, welcomed back,
To fill its place again ;-
A loving band of sister-lights,

Just like the Old Thirteen.

Strike not one jewel from the crest

The loving mother wore;

Reset the gems upon her breast,
Each where it stood before.

Clasp in the glorious cynosure,
The whole dear Thirty-Four.

-Essex County (Mass) Mercury, Sept. 18.

THE PORT ROYAL DANCE.

BY R. S. BURK,

A Seaman on Board of the Vandalia.

Behold, our glorious banner floats gaily in the air; But four hours since, base traitors swore we could not plant it there;

But brave Dupont he led us on, to fight the vaunting foe,

And soon the rebel standard was in the dust laid low.

When we were seen advancing, they laughed with foolish pride,

Saying that soon our Northern fleet they'd sink beneath the tide;

And with their guns trained carefully, they waited our advance,

And the gallant Wabash soon struck up the music for the dance.

VOL. III.-POETRY 45

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Be to the sons once more, O God,

As to their sires Thou wert so long; Revive our faith, rebuke our fears,

And let us in Thy might be strong.

The clouds which thicken o'er our path,
"Tis Thine alone to chase away;
O! show the brightness of Thy face,
And turn our darkness into day.

Pour forth Thy Spirit, gracious Lord,
To help us in this hour of need;
Appease the rage which rends our land,
And bid its wounds no longer bleed.

In vain we burnish sword or shield, Without a blessing from on high; If radiant with no sinile from Thee, In vain our banners sweep the sky.

Give counsel to our chosen chiefs;

Give courage to our marshall'd bands; Let prayer, and faith, and trust in God, Inflame their hearts, and nerve their hands.

In no resentment let them strike;

No hatred stain their holy cause; But consecrated be each arm

To" Union, Freedom, and the Laws."

And O! in Thine own time, restore

Good-will and peace from sea to sea; And in each brother's breast revive

The love that springs from love to Thee.

So may our land, from danger freed, With one consent Thy mercy own; And every knee and heart be bent

In grateful homage at Thy throne.

"Not unto us-Not unto us,"

In joyful chorus then we'll sing; "But all the glory, all the praise,

Be unto Thee, our God and King!"

THE CHARGE OF THE TWENTY-SEVEN,

AT DAVIS' CREEK.

BY RICHARD KIRKE.

The brave lieutenant then
Unsheathed his ready blade,

And cried, "Now charge, my men!
Now charge yon false brigade!"
A moment, breathless still,
They halted on the hill,
And mutely turned to Heaven;
Then on the foe,
Who lay below,

Swooped down the TWENTY-SEVEN !

They charge with fire and steel; They thunder o'er the plain;

The rebel legions reel

The ground is piled with slain; The stricken foes divide, Like Jordan's fearful tide, Smote by the hand of Heaven; And right and left, Their ranks are cleft Down by the TWENTY-SEVEN !

They are but twenty-seven,

The foe are thousands strong, And yet their swords have riven A pathway through the throng; But on that crimson plain, Four fearless heroes slain, Have passed from earth to heaven; And never more, Through death and gore, Will ride the TWENTY-SEVEN !

As once the prophet rose,

On flaming coursers driven,

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Take him up tenderly,
Abraham L.;
Handle him gingerly-
No one can tell
What risks we encounter,
In thus rudely chasin'
The pompous ambassador,
C. S. A. Mason!

Ah, the proud Minister
Cometh to grief;
With prospects so brilliant,
How wonderful brief
His life diplomatic-
All smoothly it runs,
Till over his pathway
It bloweth great guns!

A sorry denouement
This, brave F. F. V.;
Thy fondest hopes blasted,
Thy plans all at sea!
You dreamed not of capture,
While with Johnny Bull;
You thought if we tried it,
We'd have our hands full!
But when Uncle Samuel

Appeared on your track,
And gave you his thunder,
To which you knocked under,
O is it a wonder

You were taken aback?

O! poor Master Mason,

There are sermons in stones-
Don't they speak to you youder
In cloquent tones?
Howe'er mortar-fying

To "go to the wall,"
We think we've discovered
Your Forte after all!
We send you to Warren,
Your station to fill,
As Minister Foreign

Nigh old Bunker Hill!
You always was warrin'
In public, they say-
We hope you'll keep quiet
Where Dimmick has sway.

WILLIAMSBURGH, 1861.

-Brooklyn Times, Dec. 3

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