who will not pledge himself hostile to this tremen- Crack went the unseen piece again, and some keendous canine tribute. An editor, in announcing that he is drafted, dis courses as follows: "Why should we mourn conscripted friends, eyed fellow spied the smoke roll out from a little cedar. This was the spot, then; the reb had made him a hawk's nest-in choice Indian, a Chattanooga in the tree-and, drawing the green covert around him, was taking a quiet hand at "steeple-shooting" at long-range. A big, blue-eyed German, tall enough to look into the third generation, and a sharp-shooter withal, volunteered to dislodge him. Dropping into a little runway that neared the tree diagonally, he turned upon A BRAVE LOYAL BOY.-Rev. John Summers, a home his back and worked himself cautiously along; reachmissionary in Benton County, Iowa, has three sons, all ing a point perilously close, he whipped over, took of whom have been in the army of the country. One aim as he lay, and God and his true right hand "gave is still in the service, one has been honorably dis-him good deliverance." Away flew the bullet, a minute elapsed, the volume of the cedar parted; and, charged, and the third, a boy less than eighteen years "like a big frog," as the boys described it, out leaped of age, was mortally wounded at the battle of Champion Hill. His funeral sermon was preached by Elder a grayback-the hawk's nest was empty, and a dead rebel lay under the tree. It was neatly done by the King. An immense audience was present. The fol- German. May he live to tell the story a thousand lowing is a copy of the last letter of the dying boy times to his moon-faced grandchildren! It exhibits most remarkable coolness, and was written at his own dictation: BATTLE-GROUND ON RAILROAD, I am mor EAST OF BLACK RIVER, MISS., May 17, 1863. DEAR PARENTS, BROTHERS, AND SISTERS: This is the last letter you will receive from me. tally wounded in the thigh, and mortification has already commenced. I was wounded in two places, and at the same time. As I said, one ball entered my right thigh, glancing upward, shivering the bone of my hip, making it impossible to save my life by amputation. The other ball entered just above my ankle, in the same leg. I suppose you are anxious to know what my feelings are with the prospect of death before me. I am resigned, and feel that my Heavenly Father sustains me in this trying hour. While lying on the battle-ground and the enemy were charging over me, I committed myself into the hands of God, and felt that I was accepted. Don't mourn for me, I am going to a better land. I feel In the hour that I can trust Christ as my Saviour. of death my love for you all seems to be stronger than when in health. I received your last letter to-day, also one from Lucy and Andy. Hoping you will be sustained in this affliction, I remain your affectionate and dying WILLIE SUMMERS. son and brother, LEONARD GRENEWALD.-The destruction of the pontoon-bridge and train at Falling Waters in July, 1863, was one of the most daring exploits of the war, and the credit of it belongs mainly to Leonard Grenewald, chief of the Gray Eagle Scouts, and formerly of the Jessie Scouts. During previous trips he had ascertained the strength of the ground and location of the bridge, and finally obtained from General French a detail of two hundred men from the First Virginia and Thirteenth and Fourteenth New-York cavalry, under Major Foley and Lieutenant Dawson, to undertake its destruction. They arrived at the Potomac in the morning, just at daylight, and found the character of the bridge to be part trestle-work with pontoons in the centre, which were carefully floated out every evening and taken to the Virginia shore, rendering the bridge useless for the night. Lieutenant Dawson and Grenewald then swam the river, and brought back several pontoons, with which they ferried over some forty of the detachment, being all that were willing to go. Arriving on the southern side, they surprised the rebel camp, fired a volley into the sleeping rebels, and created an utter stampede. They captured about twenty rebels, including one officer. Then, destroying the camp, some stores, and four wagons of ammunition, they took all the pontoons over the river, and either burned or cut them to pieces. The balance of AN INCIDENT AT CHATTANOOGA.-At one point there the bridge was destroyed, and the party came off withwas a lull in the battle. At least, it had gone scatter-out the loss of a man. Grenewald desired to perform ing and thundering down the line, and the boys were as much" at ease as boys can be on whom, at any moment, the storm may roll back again. To be sure, occasional shots, and now and then a cometary shell, kept them alive; but one of the boys ran down to a little spring, and to the woods where the enemy lay, for water. He had just stopped and swung down his canteen-"tick," and a Minié ball struck it at an angle and bounded away. He looked around an instant, discovered nobody, thought it was a chance shot piece of lead, you know, that goes at a killing rate without malice prepense; and so, nowise infirm of purpose, he bent to get the water. Ping! a second bullet cut the cord of his canteen, and the boy "got the idea;" a sharp-shooter was after him, and he went on the right-about on the double-quick to the ranks. A soldier from another part of the line made a pilgrimage to the spring, was struck, and fell by its brink. But where was the marksman? Two or three boys ran out to draw his fire while others watched. VOL. VIII.-POETRY 2 -a the same thing at Williamsport, but his party declined to back him up. He is one of the most daring and reliable of scouts, and does great service. CARLYLE'S "ILIAD." The following is the entire contribution of Mr. Carlyle to Macmillan's Magazine: ILIAS (AMERICANA) IN NUCE. - !" Peter of the North (to Paul of the South)-" Paul, you unaccountable scoundrel, I find you hire your servants for life, not by the month or year, as I do! You are going straight to hell, you Paul-" Good words, Peter! The risk is my own; I am willing to take the risk. Hire you your servants by the month or day, and get straight to heaven; leave me to my own method." Peter" No, I won't. I will beat your brains out first!" (And is trying dreadfully ever since, but cannot Yes, 'twas South-Carolina - 'twas Charleston, no yet manage it.) May, 1863. A NEW AMERICAN ILIAD. T. C. Let us attempt an "Ilias Americana in Nuce," after the manner of Mr. Carlyle. Peter of the South to Paul of the North-" You miserable Yankee, you, why don't you defend your soil? Why not take Vicksburg? You have no courage. I shall burn, and slay, and lay waste, and-" Paul-"Suppose you try it." [Gettysburg and Vicksburg ad interim.] Peter" You miserable Yankee, you have money, but you have no courage. You are rich, but you are a coward; I shall fight to the last, I shall-” Paul "We shall see."-Philadelphia Press. H. (an Englishman of great respectability, a member of the Carlton)" My dear fellow, you know I wish perdition here and hereafter to all Yankees; but did you not begin this infernal row ?" S. (a Southern agent)-" Of course we did. Every thing was at stake. A scoundrel of the old country scattered books up and down the States against Gigmanity. He preached the doctrine of the old Scotch ploughman, A man's a man for a' that.' about a judgment of God which came upon the French nobles of the last century for denying that doctrine. Certain fools at the North fancied he was in earnest. He canted They believed what he told them, and said that they should act upon it. Idiot parsons went so far as to say that the words we use on Sunday about a Person who was put to death as a slave being the corner-stone of the universe were true. What could we do? It was a matter of life and death. We raised the shout for Gigmanity. We affirmed that Slavery itself, not the Person who suffered the death of the slave, was the corner-stone of the universe. These are our watch words. In this cause, and not, as some foolish friends of ours represent, to vindicate our right to hire our servants for life, we have drawn the sword and flung away the scabbard." H. (much affected)-"Brave and noble men! Champions of our interests as well as your own! You have not been exactly the friends of England, but we feel that we may embrace you as ours. Let us join solemnly in drinking the toast. The Cause of Gigmanity and Slavery, civil and religious, all the world over.' [Hip, hip, hurrah, and exeunt.] F. D. M.* MY DREAM. TO THOMAS CARLYLE. Peter of the North to Paul of the South-" Paul, you unaccountable scoundrel, I find you hire your servants for life, not by the month or year, as I do."-[Thomas Carlyle's "American Iliad in a Nutshell," Macmillan's Magazine, August.] O Thomas of Chelsea! I've dreamed such a dream! I've been reading that dialogue, more smart than grave, In which you've so settled the case, as you deem, And straight to your Eden of fetters I flew, * Rev. F. D. Maurice, in the London Spectator. doubt But changed-why has quite from my memory slipped For the whites now were "hired," as it straightway turned out, "For life," by the blacks, to be labored and whipped. I've never been given, like you, to regard Men treated as beasts as a comical sight; In the case, as it had been, of blacks, it seemed hard, And as hard it seemed now that the niggers were white. But a negro, your namesake, was luckily by, And this sablest of sages, oh! how he did grin, As I uttered my doubtings. "They men like us! why The chattels had they any black in their skin? Were they not white all over? What, had I no eyes? They fitted for freedom!-why, where was their wool ?" He couldn't help sneering out lofty surprise That my brain could of such silly nonsense be full. To be worked, to be walloped for nothing," he said, "The eternities sent forth all whites-'twas their doom." Just then an old graybeard was livelily led To the block-for an auction went on in the room; And think how I stared! why, the chattel, alack! Yes, 'twas you-no mistake!—you put up there to sell! You grumbled-whack! down came the thong on your back; Good lord! how you, Thomas, did wriggle and yell ! My black sage looked on with a sneering disdain, Stepped up to the block and examined your mouth; Poked your ribs with his stick; you objected in vain— "Whites were made to be sarved so by blacks in the South." A lively discussion around you arose, On the strength of your legs-on your age; thump on thump. Tried to straighten you upright; one would tweak your nose; One hustled you down, just to see how you'd jump. 'Twas fun to their blackships, but Thomas, I've fears Your temper that moment was none of the best; There was rage in your scowl; in your old eyes were tears; For it seems Mrs. Carlyle had just been sold West; And what might, too, put some hard words in your mouth Though it did not affect your black namesake the least Master Carlyle was "hired for life," right down South Miss Carlyle had been ditto right away East. So you didn't jump lively, and laugh as you ought, Though, cursed in a whisper, you tried to look gay, If lives of old whites raise the whitest and best, price. ant hired for life." T. C. Nigger-" By golly! Wife and chil'n servants for life too, massa?" F. M.-"Yes, all you niggers. But you must work all the same, you know." T. C. N.-" Iss, massa. What wages you gib ?" F. M.-"Wages, you rascal? Quart of corn a day, and three shirts and pantaloons a year; for legal hours of work, fourteen hours a day for half the year, and fifteen the other half."* T. C. N.-"Any priv'leges, massa ?" F. M.-"Privileges! Ha! ha! Yes, privileges of John Driver's whip, or of such other punishment as I choose to inflict, and of not being believed on oath if you go and peach against me, and of being sold down South when I please, and of being converted by any parson whom I choose to allow," T. C. N.-"Hm. Wife and chil'n my own dis time, mass ?" F. M.-"Ha! ha! ha! Yes-till I or Mr. Overseer want them. But you have the privilege of taking another wife as often as I allow it, and of having as many children as it pays me to bring up." T. C. N. Beg pardon, massa, but what for you call me servant hired for life?" AN ACT OF VILLAINY.-A correspondent of the Boston Traveller, writing from Sharpsburgh an account of General Kilpatrick's charge on the rebel rear-guard, near Downsville, relates the occurrence of a dastardly act as follows: General Kilpatrick got within half a mile of the enemy's rear-guard, near Downsville, Md., when our spies discovered that lines of rifle-pits were ready to contest their advance. These works were erected on the brow of quite a large hill, and General Kilpatrick at once resolved to feel the strength of his foe. Two companies of the Sixth Michigan cavalry, B and F, were ordered to charge up the hill to the earthworks, which was done in fine style. As our men dashed in sight, the rebels were seen to throw down their arms and hoist a flag of truce. Supposing, of course, the enemy had surrendered, they continued on, and when within fifty or sixty feet the entire rebel force, which must have numbered from seven hundred to one thousand men, seized their rifles and fired upon our men, taking them completely by surprise. Finding the force so much larger than they anticipated, our men gave them a volley and fell back to the main body of cavalry. The rebels, after completely stripping the victims of their infamous treachery of shoes and stockings, fled to a dense piece of woods three miles beyond, carrying off their dead and wounded. I visited the scene of their hellish plot in order to obtain a list of the casualties, and a more revolting spectacle never presented itself. In all directions, as far as the eye could reach on the top of the hill, lay the lifeless remains of our brave defenders, the warm blood oozing from their mortal wounds in streams that formed in pools amid the grass, while at their side, bleeding, lay their faithful chargers, stiff in death, the sharers of their fate. A knot of soldiers gathered around the bodies of the slain, swearing eternal revenge upon the dastardly assassins who so cowardly shot their heroic comrades, F. M.-"What for, you rascal? Because a great and then bayoneted them. This is a horrible fact, man, after whom I named you, when he had written a which I witnessed personally. After killing our men, d-d good book on the 'nigger question,' says that is they pierced their bodies with bayonets and swords, all the difference between you and those mean, white-robbed the dead of their finger-rings, boots, stockings, livered Yankee working-men, who are hired by the hats, and every article of value. month or the day." T. C. N." Massa, if him book good book, why's I not privileged to learn read it ?" NOBLE CONDUCT OF THE TWENTY-THIRD NEW-JERSEY. In the Sixth corps we have a New-Jersey regiment, the Twenty-third, which has exhibited an extraordinary degree of patriotism truly commendable, and worthy Stay-of public acknowledgment. F. M. Read, you infernal scoundrel! Why, if any one were to help you to learn, the law gives him fine and imprisonment or lashes, and what do you suppose you'd get? So off with you how old is that yellow nigger, your wife's daughter?" T. C. N.-"Born three weeks 'fore Miss Susy, massa. F. M.-"She'll fetch a right smart price at Mobile, now that New-Orleans-" T. C. N. (Aside while passing away)" Dey say de Yankees an't bery long way. Wish dey was heeah. Laws of South-Carolina. Their term of service had expired, but just as they were preparing to leave for home, the order was received for the division to cross the river. Their gallant Colonel ordered out his command, and after forming them into line and telling them of the orders issued, he stated, notwithstanding their time was out, he for one was going with the division, and desired to know how many would go with him; every soul in the regi ment answered Ay! and they are now with a part of the Sixth corps, over the river and under the very guns of the enemy. This is truly a pleasing incident to record, and should receive the highest encomiums of all.-Philadelphia Inquirer, June, 1863. ODE What have we done for thee? Surging with tumult and sorely oppressed— Given our lives to thee! Given thee Liberty, Land of the West. Then hail to our country, the Land of the West! The marvel of nations, the Great and the Blest, On the Inauguration of the Albany Army Relief Ba- The green of her forests, the blue of her vales, zaar, on the 22d February, 1864. BY MISS MARGARET F. MORGAN, OF ALBANY. All hail to our country, the Land of the West! The dream of the nations, the Great and the Blest; The vision that came on the spice of the breeze, And haunted the heart of the dark GenoeseThat rose like a temple of gold to his view, That hung like a star in his distance of blue. The Sun on his journey may linger to glance On the mosque and the temple, the vine and the dance, But always returns to the haunt he loves best, And leaves his last smile with the Land of the West. O Sun! in thy beauty, untiring like thee, The heart of the Westland is glowing! And over the continent, over the sea, The light of its purpose is throwing. Behold how its broad and beneficent ray Though dark clouds of error still lurk in the way, Come, Morning Light! Break through the night- Call in their might, Come, quickly come! Break, break the tyrant's yoke, Let Treason's wonted ire Break through the prison bars, go with a blessing, Though the air is stirred with combat, From the dim and doubting vision, Peace will return with her chaplet of gloryHome from the battle-field weary and worn, Come the brave squadrons of song and of story, Bearing their banners up, rifted and torn! Her mines and her mountains, her lakes and her sails, No spirit more intense and fine Strives where her starry banners wave, No gentler face, beloved, than thine Sleeps in a soldier's grave— No heart more brave. And though his mound I may not trace, The soul I loved is still alive, The name I loved is Freedom's boast; I clasp these helpful truths, and strive To feel, though great the cost, Nothing is lost: Under the high, unclouded sun, That makes the ship and shadow one, The odorous airs blow thin and fine, Encinctured by the faithful seas, Enthroned in light, and bathed in balm, Yet northward with an equal mind For here o'er Nature's wanton bloom I know that in the snow-white pines OUR COUNTRY'S FLAG. CAMPAIGN SONG. AIR-" Sparkling and Bright." Loyal and true to the red, white, and blue, We firmly stand for our native land, Then rally we all at the nation's call, When in treason's hour our country's power Then rally we all at the nation's call, By our sacred cause-by our rights and laws- By this flag of the free, on the land and the sea, Then rally we all to the nation's call, While the dear old flag waves o'er us; O flag divine! each star of thine Then in Union grand we shall firmly stand, OLD ROSY. B. H. HALL. When Rosy rode along the line, As quickening vengeance draws its breath Where now within the battle-blast A cheer broke in, and then the drum- |