once arrested by any well-regulated police if she appears in the streets. But the same woman may dress with still greater indelicacy as a danseuse at the opera-house, and if she is beautiful, or dances well, bouquets are showered at her feet, and the applause rises in equal ratio to the indecency of the costume and performance. The beauty or voluptuousness of African women has been the chief source of all amalgamation. Beauty and emancipation remove prejudice against color in a remarkably small space of time. Nothing but to be free inspires respect.

Born and raised" under the blighting influence of any slave-system, the master and the mistress are infected: contact alone breeds contamination. Man cannot take live coals into his bosom and not be burned.

Ungrateful as it is to make either the admission or the allegation, truth compels it: to grow up the irresponsible mistress of slaves casts a mildew over the female heart. It precludes the highest culture in woman; for its short-comings are a constant source of irritation, while the not unfrequent acts of deception and wrong-doing stir the baser passions into malignity.

This all springs from the system of slavery. No slavemistress can entirely escape it. With noble and gifted spirits the influence is far less unpropitious. But this is only saying that noble spirits are strong enough to resist shocks which weaker ones cannot withstand,—that the spiritual soars above the material.

But, although the conquest may not be complete, except by heroic perseverance, yet under these unfavorable surroundings the few may reach a far higher character than they ever would have attained had they

"through the cool sequestered vale of life

Pursued the noiseless tenor of their way."

These are the few exceptions to the otherwise inflexible rule. The silver beams of a few stars may penetrate the

mists their brilliancy is only the more entrancing. The bounding blood of youth may be too pure and vigorous to be contaminated by the malaria: the youth is the more joyous and beautiful. The blinded bird may find its way to a friendly covert in the driftings of the storm, but the eagle alone escapes the tempest by soaring above it.

The dreadful truth remains: African slavery has a direct and inevitable tendency to degrade woman at the South.

A thousand illustrations have occurred since this war began. Wherever our officers or soldiers have paced the streets of cities, from Baltimore to New Orleans, or been seen in cars, hotels, or steamboats, they have been the objects of special indignity from well-dressed ladies who had been educated under the barbarous régime of slavery. Their conduct has often been characterized by a vulgarity and fiendish malignity which indicated the total loss of all the graces, or even decencies, which are supposed in well-bred society to belong inseparably to the gentler sex.

XXXI.

In the Valley of the Shenandoah.

ONE evening, falling in with a really brave and noble officer of the rebel army, who had been paroled in Washington as one of our prisoners taken in one of the nightskirmishes of the Shenandoah valley, I learned an incident well worth relating.

A squadron of two hundred of Stuart's Cavalry had surprised seventeen of our mounted pickets, who were completely surrounded, and, of course, ordered to surrender.

"Sir," said our lieutenant, "such is the fate of war," and, offering his sword, turned his horse to his command and gave the order,

"Boys, empty sixteen saddles."

One flash from sixteen carbines obeyed. Dashing on the rebel captain and seizing him by the collar, he dragged him away, dangling at his horse's flanks.

"Follow, men !"

They did; and, riddled though their clothes were with bullets, they all escaped.

After the first mile had been made, the lieutenant checked up, and asked his prisoner, the captain, if he would prefer any other mode of riding.

Of course he did. As good luck would have it, the rebel's horse was loyal to his master, and he had in the mêlée followed him. One of our men seized his bridle-rein; and thus, as the rebel captain struck on his feet, his own horse whinneyed to his master's call.

"Now, captain, you must feel at home, I suppose, you are mounted again."

It was a strange coincidence. The rebel was sent to the Old Capitol Prison some days later, and among the courtesies shown to him there he found the identical copy of Xenophon's Cyropædia which he and his captor had both read, as class-mates, in Yale College, ten years before.

The captain considered this a clear case of Yankee chivalry and civilization. I do not blame him for his opinion.

Sergeant Mouser, Co. H, 4th Ohio Vols., left Delaware University in his Senior year to enlist. He made a brilliant speech at a flag-presentation before leaving his native village, -Marion, Ohio,—before an immense assemblage gathered to witness the departure of the first troops under the three months' call. He re-enlisted for three years, and became one of the most promising officers in his regiment.

On one occasion, being on picket-duty under the command of a lieutenant, information was received of the arrival of a body of rebel cavalry in a neighborhood about ten miles distant from his post, their evident intention being to collect some fine herds of fat cattle that were being grazed on the glades of the Alleghanies. He obtained permission to go, asking only for a single soldier and the guide who had brought the information, and engaged to drive in the cattle during the night. On reaching the house of the farmer who had charge of the cattle, just after dark, he saw through the window a party of rebel soldiers at supper; and, instantly dismounting, he rushed alone into the house, and, drawing his pistol, commanded, "Keep your seats, gentlemen. Finish your supper. You are my

prisoners." And, calling from the door, he again commanded, "Sergeant, station your guards around the house. Throw out twenty horsemen as pickets. Send me an orderly, and report to me in person as soon as your orders are executed."

The party at supper sat in amazement, while he coolly secured the carbines that stood in the corner.

Outside, the soldier, who had been previously instructed,

gave his orders in a tone sufficiently loud to be heard within, and, with the guide, who led the sergeant's horse, according to previous instructions, galloped about the house in every direction, to give the impression of a considerable body of soldiers. Presently the guide appeared at the door, without entering, as "orderly;" and Sergeant Mouser took a seat at the table with his prisoners and ate a hearty supper. After this was over, he took the three rebel soldiers and the farmer into the loft of the house, and had some boards brought, with which he nailed up the door and window. He then shut up the landlady and cooks in the kitchen, securing the windows and door in the same manner. The soldier stood guard, while the guide started for a couple of trusty mountaineers some two miles distant, with whose assistance he drove off sixty head of fine fat cattle, the property of a rebel officer who resided near Winchester, Virginia.

About two o'clock at night, Sergeant Mouser and the soldier started for camp, and, overtaking the drove of cattle, arrived with them in safety early in the morning.

While his regiment was stationed at Romney, Virginia, he was attacked with fever, and sent to the hospital at Cumberland, Maryland, where he was placed on a bunk from which a dead soldier had been taken only the day before.

He grew worse; and his captain, who was strongly attached to him, obtained permission to go and minister to his wants, when he expressed his fears that the circumstance of being placed on the couch of the dead soldier was seriously affecting him, and desired to be removed. He was then taken to a private boarding-house, by the permission of Henry Salter, surgeon in charge, whose kindness is a noble exception to the many cases of indifference manifested by many army surgeons. But it was too late. The fever had already taken too deep a hold on his constitution. His friends having been telegraphed for, his father arrived in time to see him die; and