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[LINES RIT TU RICHARD YEADON, A
RANK, PIZEN REBBEL, WHU HES OFFERED TEN THAOUSAND DOLLARS FUR THE HED OV GINERAL
BUTLER. I ONLY WISH THE AMERIKAN EGLE MAY LIVE TILL HE GITS IT!
Yu offer us ten thaousand fur the
hed ov Butler, du ye?
Wa'al, I vaow I wunder at it! But
yu may jest spare yure pains.
I tell yu (ef yu know enuff tu
git the idee thru yu),
Yu'd better wish, a tarnal site,
fur Gineral Butler's brains!
Here's a fust-rate chance to make
a pile!—a bribe fur human natur!
Naow is the time fur Judases tu
clap thare hands and larf;
Ten thaousand dollars offered fur
the sarvice ov a traitor?
Why thare's menny a poor
scoundrel thet wood du the work fur half!
Want the hed ov Gineral Butler
Wa'al, I never! 'tis surprisin!
Yu fellers daown in Dixie must be
fallin off from grace.
Not hevin enny decent hed (that
fact thare's no disguisin),
Yu want tu take yure nabor's, es
ef that wood help yure case!
Ten thaousand dollars offered!
Specie payment is't, I wunder?
Bein a Yankee born, yu know,
p'r'aps I am kind o' cute.
Yure promises air fair enuff—but
fokes du sumtimes blunder,
And them Confederate notes ov
yourn—'tain't every wun they'd suit!
Ten thaousand dollars offered fur
the hed ov Butler! Reely!
Haow long is't sense yu larfed et
him, and called him "Pickayune?"
Did yu find he was tu big a coin
fur yu tu hold genteely?
Or has he put yure notes ov war a
leetle aout ov tune?
Yu offer us ten thaousand fur the
hed ov Butler, du yu?
Wa'al, I don't mutch wunder at
it—but yu may jest spare yure pains;
But I'll tell yu (ef yu know
enuff tu git the idee thru yu),
Yu'd better (fur yu need 'em)
wish fur Gineral Butler's brains!
SATURDAY, JANUARY 31, 1863.
THE Army of the Potomac is again
in motion. In the Southwest
General McClernand, after the brilliant
operation against the Post of Arkansas—the most complete triumph won by our arms
capture of Fort Donelson—is preparing to renew
the struggle at
Rosecrans is in the heart of Tennessee. Banks
is thundering at the gates of Port Hudson. Foster may have taken Wilmington.
Every where our armies are moving; and though success has lately been unequal,
there is no diminution of energy on the part of the North.
For the spirit of the North is
undaunted. No one has quailed at the reverses which the Union arms have lately
encountered. In Wall Street a few craven voices have been heard praying for
peace. But the spirit of the country at large is as stout as ever, and the
purpose of our Anglo-Saxon millions as fixed as ever upon the preservation under
one Government of the entire territory of the United States.
The true reason of this stern and
resolute fixity of purpose is simply the practical impossibility of negotiating
a peace except upon terms which secure the restoration of the Union. No
international division of the territory of the United States can by any
ingenuity be devised. No line can be imagined which could be permanent, or which
should secure to either section the blessings of peace and a chance of material
prosperity. If to-morrow we acknowledged the independence of the rebel
Confederacy, and granted them a border line, war would break out in less than
twelve months. They would object to Northern travelers expressing Northern
sentiments in their midst, and they would demand that we should catch and return
their fugitive slaves. On the other hand, our people would be more apt to catch
slave-owners than slaves; and if Northern men were molested South, an account of
and reparation for the injury would be exacted. The South would attempt to
discriminate against our manufactures and in favor of those of their European
sympathizers, which would lead to angry and irreconcilable disputes. The freedom
of the Mississippi would prove an endless source of quarrel. It might be
declared free by statute of the rebel Confederacy; but any slave-driver
overflowing with rage and whisky might close it at an hour's notice with a
single piece of cannon, and defy the whole State of Mississippi to control
him—as was the case in the spring of 1861. Passing
over the impossibility of
discovering a boundary which would be satisfactory to both parties, it is
obvious that the successful secession of the South would be followed by further
steps toward disintegration, which, in the event of the success of the
slave-owners' rebellion, would be feebly resisted by the Government at
Washington. The West would, in course of time, seek to establish a central
empire. New England and the Middle States would agree to differ, and part
company. The Pacific States would follow the fatal example. Thus, in the course
of ten years, we should witness a repetition of the Central American broils in
our own country: and the great republic of which we are citizens would be split
up into half a dozen or more "feeble, jarring States, exhausting their strength
in internecine conflicts."
Hence it is that, notwithstanding
our military failures and the disasters which every now and then befall us,
there is no change of sentiment among the people of the North. It was hoped and
believed at Richmond that the triumphs of the Northern Democracy at the October
and November elections insured the success of a party pledged to the
acknowledgment of Southern independence. But in fact the representative
Democrats are as stanch in their hostility to the severance of the Union as the
best friends of the President. Here, in New York city, we have a few sneaks, who
have wormed themselves into positions of political prominence, who have all
along sympathized with the rebels, and would now grant them all they ask. But
these creatures have no more power or influence than that eminent British prig,
Mr. Gladstone. The heart of the Northern Democracy is sound and loyal to the
Again, it is because we believe
that the dissolution of the Union is the greatest possible misfortune which
could befall this country—a misfortune not limited in its effects to this
generation alone, but transmitted with geometrically increasing intensity to our
children, our children's children, and their posterity forever—that we are about
to consent to an unparalleled adulteration of our national currency, which will
produce in Northern society and Northern commerce changes as extensive as those
which might be caused by a complete political revolution. It is now settled that
there is no chance of obtaining more money on loan, and the Treasury Department
is consequently preparing to flood the country with irredeemable paper. This
policy will enable the Government to carry on the war to a successful issue,
which is the one thing desired by loyal people. That it will produce the ruin of
thousands, will defraud creditors, impoverish the rich, and press heavily on the
mechanic, the working man, and the man of fixed income, create an enormous
advance in all articles of necessity, and generate an era of speculation which
will eventually cause most of the property of the Northern people to change
hands, is too clear for argument. But if it should ruin the entire race of
Northern men now alive, a wise judgment would deem the price not too dear for
the preservation of the Union. For, though we be all ruined, our sons may still
work their way in the world, and achieve success and prosperity; whereas the
destruction of the Union would insure not only our ruin but theirs, and their
No such war as ours has ever been
waged since the Crusades. It is cheering, in the face of bad news, day after
day, to realize that the stout, manly spirit of the Northern people has not yet
shown signs of surrender, and that we are all as fixed as ever in our purpose of
maintaining intact the integrity of our country, whatever may become of the
renegade, degraded, and brutified people who inhabit its Southern section.
LIBERTY AND LICENSE.
IN his Essay upon Milton,
Macaulay says what many of us may ponder with profit to-day. He is speaking of
the royal Conservatives in England, who foolishly held Liberty responsible for
the excesses of License:
"There is only one cure for the
evils which newly-acquired freedom produces, and that cure is freedom. When a
prisoner first leaves his cell he can not bear the light of day; he is unable to
discriminate colors or recognize faces. But the remedy is not to remand him into
his dungeon, but to accustom him to the rays of the sun. The blaze of truth and
liberty may at first dazzle and bewilder nations which have become half blind in
the house of bondage. But let them gaze on, and they will soon be able to bear
it. In a few years men learn to reason. The extreme violence of opinion
subsides. Hostile theories correct each other. The scattered elements of truth
cease to contend, and begin to coalesce. And at length a system of justice and
order is educed out of the chaos.
"Many politicians of our time are
in the habit of laying it down as a self-evident proposition that no people
ought to be free until they are fit to use their freedom. The maxim is worthy of
the fool in the old story who resolved not to go into the water until he had
learned to swim. If men are to wait for liberty until they become wise and good
in slavery, they may wait forever.
"Therefore," he adds, "it is that
we decidedly approve of the conduct of Milton, and all other wise and good men,
who, in spite of much that was ridiculous
and hateful in the conduct of
their associates, stood firmly by the cause of Public Liberty."
"WHEN you spoke some time since
of a reaction, dear Mr. Lounger, what did you mean?"
Simply that the purpose of the
nation is relaxed. It is no longer resolved, as it was eighteen months ago, to
subdue the rebellion at all costs. There is a large party at the North which
hates another Northern party more than it does the rebels. A great deal of the
energy and eloquence of the North is now devoted to the alienation of various
sections of country among ourselves. Some have lost all hope of military
success. Some are appalled by the prospect of an enormous debt and commercial
distress. Some think the war the result of unlawful agitation. Some openly sigh
for peace. And a very large party see in the prosecution of the war by every
means the sure destruction of its own party-power, and so, under the plea that
the Constitution is unconstitutionally maintained, it embarrasses in every way
the action of the Government. There is a frank excuse for secession, if not its
plain justification, in many mouths; there is an open repudiation of the
principles of the founders of the Government; and a deliberate assent to those
laid down by
Alexander H. Stephens.
The cause of this reaction is
found in the fact that party-spirit is stronger than patriotism. The war is a
conflict of principles. It is so understood and stated at the South. It is
denied at the North. Consequently the rebels are united, firm, and desperate:
and we are divided, languid, or worse. The rebellion says frankly, "We repudiate
the Union and Constitution because they will gradually develop the personal
liberty of every man; and we don't believe in liberty." The rebellion puts at
its head, therefore, the men who most truly represent that infidelity and hate.
It knows its aim and strikes steadily. On the other hand, the nation, instead of
saying in reply, "Of course the Union and Government will secure personal
liberty, but they will achieve it peacefully and under law, and without any
grievance of which you can fairly complain," falls to vituperation and
crimination in its own ranks: affirms or denies the essential principle
involved—and instead of meeting conviction with conviction, unity with unity,
and desperation with resolution, halts, higgles, doubts, and paralyzes its own
The consequence of the reaction,
if it continues, will be defeat, disgrace, national dissolution, and anarchy.
There is but one road to peace, and that is the absolute suppression of the
rebellion by force, and the gradual yielding of the rebel section to the
conviction that the will of the nation is a stronger will than its own.
Compromise and separation are equally impracticable. There may yet arise a party
strong enough to insist upon trying to effect one or the other. But each must
fail. The rebels honestly repudiate all reconstruction, for they are not fools.
Davis and his men know where the secret of the war is. It is the old secret,
despotism and liberty; privilege and right; aristocracy and democracy. The sole
safety of the rebels is in secession, for our subjugation is not possible. But
separation is equally impracticable, for separation is total dissolution—no line
can be devised but by the vote of States; and to concede that States may stay in
the Union or leave it, is to allow a principle which justifies
proposition for the withdrawal of the city of New York from the State.
The reaction and the rebellion
are but the Northern and Southern aspects of anarchy. One man in earnest is the
match of six who are indifferent. The rebels are the man in earnest. Are we the
"THERE it is, Sir," said Rusticus
to Civicus in the cars, "I can not see why you make such a pother about Slavery.
If we had it in this State it would be a different thing. But if you paid a
minister for preaching, and liked to go to church and thought it your duty to
go, how would you like to hear Sunday after Sunday about the heathen in China?
Heathenism is bad, and once in a way a man may say so; but why ding, ding, ding
forever about it and never go near China? I don't like slavery, and never did. I
wouldn't have a slave if you would give him to me. But there's no fear of our
having any slaves in Chautauque, and why should we preach and discuss all the
time the sins of other people?"
But, my good friend, if you lived
in China and were still a Christian, and knew that any where within the Chinese
wall Heathenism was struggling hard, and even with apparent success, to get the
whip-hand of Christianity — although there might be no heathen in your town, do
you think it would be a question that you had no business to discuss? If you
cared any thing at all for your religion, don't you think you would be a zany if
you folded your arms and said, "It's none of my business. We haven't any heathen
for ten miles round."
"Ah! in that case—"
Yes, but take one nearer home.
Let us suppose that you drink no intoxicating liquor; that you think it wrong to
make, sell, or drink it; that you believe half of the crime and poverty in the
land to be caused by ruin; but still that there is no grog-shop, no drunkard,
and, so far as you know, no drop of liquor in your town or county.
"Well, in that case, I hope that
we should reserve our censure for our own sins, and not those of the next county
or the rest of the State."
Stop a moment. You live in a
State of many counties. You are a voter, and you have these views of
ruin-selling and drinking. Now in other counties the liquor interest, we will
say, is straining every nerve, spending endless money, and openly declares its
intention to be to secure the entire political control of the State, so that it
may repeal all license laws and submit the State to the direction of one
interest, and that interest rum; and suppose that the would-be drunkards in your
county cried Amen, and were
trying to help that interest in every possible way, do you think that you would
then say that you thought you had better reserve your censure, and since you
were none of you drunkards, therefore you would not discuss dram-drinking?
"No, by George!"
But if you should hear any body
declare that to discuss the Liquor question in your county was an impertinent
meddling with the rights of other voters, would you not be tempted to ask,
"Friend, how much does the Liquor interest pay you for talking in that style up
"You'd better believe it! I
should say to him, I am a citizen of this county, but also of the State. I don't
believe in liquor; but if men have made it and bought it, and the law protects
them, very well. But when they say we are going to run the State for the benefit
of that interest, I say, 'Not if I can help it.' And I turn to and try to
persuade every one of my neighbors to vote against it."
Well, and if the Liquor interest
says that if it does not succeed it will overthrow the Government, then what?
"If my liver isn't white, that
makes no difference."
Well, suppose the Liquor interest
is lawfully beaten, and actually tries by force to execute its threat?
"I shall hope to be on hand."
And if it turns upon you fiercely
and says that you caused the row, because you insisted upon saying that you
didn't like liquor, and thereby helped influence public opinion so that the
Liquor interest couldn't get votes enough to obtain lawful control of the
Government, then what would you do? Tell me that.
"I should laugh out loud."
You wouldn't think the Liquor
question was like that of heathenism in China?
Neither should I.
AT the second battle of Bull Run
a Maryland Union soldier lost both his eyes by a single shot. Iie was young,
brave, devoted. When be recovered from the stunning blow he found himself lying
upon the ground, and the noise of battle was dying away. Suddenly he heard a
groan near him, and listened intently to the words he heard.
"Hallo!" cried he, at length.
"Hallo!" was the faint reply.
"You're a reb, a'n't you?" said
the blind soldier.
"Yes; and I s'pose you're a
Yank?" feebly answered the other.
"Yes, I'm a Yank. Where are you
"My legs are broken," returned
"Well, now, reb, if you'll lend
me your eyes I'll lend you my legs. Hey?"
"I'll do it," said the cripple.
The blind man then groped his way
to the rebel, and took him upon his back. The rebel guided him safely, and as
they were already within the enemy's lines they reached head-quarters without
difficulty. Directed to a surgeon, the two wounded men at length lay down
together upon the ground. An officer, seeing the blue coat of the blind soldier,
approached and said, in a brisk but not unkindly tone,
"Lost your eyes, hey?"
"Yes, I'm blind."
"Well, now, a'n't you sorry you
came? Haven't you got enough of it? What did you come for?"
"To put down the rebs," stoutly
answered the Marylander.
"Well, well; don't you wish you'd
staid to home?"
"No, I don't," replied the youth,
"Yank, if you had both your eyes,
and were safe out of our lines—come, now—what do you think you would be doing?"
"Well, I reckon I should be
sighting a reb," rejoined the indomitable hero; and the officer, finding that
the young man was just as much in earnest as he, and understood exactly why he
had come to fight, and regretted his lost sight not for himself but for his
country, turned and left him, but not without a special charge to the surgeon to
treat him well.
MRS. HOMESPUN UPON PLAYERS.
MRS. SARAH HOMESPUN writes to the
Lounger about plays and theatres. She came to town with her daughter, and she
"What I want to ask you is this:
We went to the theatre, at Mr. Wallack's in Broadway Street, a few nghts back,
and saw a very funny piece, called 'A Bachelor of Arts.' * * * Every once in a
while the gentlemen actors on the stage swore horrid oaths, and when they didn't
swear, they were vulgar, and said, 'the devil,' and 'devilish,' and all such
mean sort of truck as that. Now, Sir, I brought my daughter Sarah up to despise
such works, and I know she is as good a girl as can be; but she laughed when
these things were said, though I knew she didn't think it was funny. Don't you
think it shameful for actors to use such language before decent folks? * * * Mr.
Lounger, if people must have theatres, and plays, and that sort of thing, what
use is there to cuss and swear, and rip right out, as I tell my old man
sometimes? It isn't a bit funny, and I declare I couldn't help feelin' sorry for
that young woman on the stage, who was obligated to stand by and hear such
pirate's talk. Do write a piece in your paper about it.
"P.S. I guess if them actors
heard the comments people made about them behind their backs, they wouldn't use
such vulgar talk."
Mrs. Homespun's postscript
answers her note. The conduct of actors is not determined by what is said behind
them, but before them. If Miss Homespun did not laugh when the actors swore,
they would soon cease to be profane. The only proof players have that they are
amusing is the response from the audience. If the house hissed when the stage
was vulgar, it would very soon be decent. Mrs. Homespun knows probably that hot
bread for breakfast is not considered wholesome food. But,