feel the misery of civil strife; and inspire a returning veneration for that Union, which, if we may dare to penetrate His designs, He has chosen as the only means of obtaining the high destinies to which we may reasonably aspire.-A. Jackson.

THE CAUSE.

"Union for the sake of the Union;" "Our country, our whole country, and nothing but our country;"- these are the mottoes, old, stale, hackneyed and threadbare, as they may have seemed when employed as the watchwords of an electioneering campaign, but clothed with a new power, a new significance, a new gloss, and a new glory, when uttered as the battle-cries of a nation struggling for existence; these are the mottoes which can give a just and adequate expression to the Cause in which you have enlisted. Sir, I thank heaven that the trumpet has given no uncertain sound while you have been preparing yourselves for the battle.—R. C. Winthrop.

Gentlemen, you are as impotent to overthrow this government by starvation as you were to annihilate it by the sword. You may distress, but you cannot destroy. For let me tell you that when that time comes, the same loyal people from the same loyal states who took their lives in their hands and went forth to do battle for the defense of the republic, enduring weary march, protracted siege, the smoking hell of battle, and more horrible hell of southern prison pens, until, from the dark waves of rebellion, they bore on broken arms and lacerated breasts the bleeding form of the republic, and planted her feet on the steady rock of constitutional government and civil liberty; who, animated by the same patriotism, when you attempt to starve this republic, will fly to her side at the first cry of her distress, and there they will stand in the ceaseless vigil, not with a sword, but with sustenance; not with implements of war, but with unmeasured wealth; not with shotted cannon, but with unlocked coffers; not with bandages, but with plenty, and, bending over her prostrate form, they will succor and sustain her, ministering to her necessities until, in the fullness of time, they can wrench from her throat the cowardly hand that clutched it, and then, thrilling with new life, she will spring to her feet, and the very altar which you had builded for her immolation shall become a throne, on which she shall stand clothed in the majesty of her power, resceptred and recrowned Goddess of Liberty.-Burrows.

Sang as only they can sing

Who life's thorny path have prest;
Sang as only they can sing

Who behold the promised rest
"Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee."

"Rock of Ages, cleft for me,"

Sung above a coffin lid; -
Underneath, all restfully,

All life's joys and sorrows hid;
Nevermore, O storm-tossed soul!
Nevermore from wind or tide,
Nevermore from billow's roll

Wilt thou need thyself to hide.
Could the sightless, sunken eyes,
Closed beneath the soft gray hair,
Could the mute and stiffened lips

Move again in pleading prayer,
Still, ay, still the words would be -
"Let me hide myself in Thee."— Anon.

THE NEGRO PREACHER'S PRAYER.

O thou bressed Jesus! who has met wid dy chil'n so m-a-n-y times befo', come dis way jus' one time mo',—jus' o-n-e time mo'. Pull away de cuhtains ob dy majesty, an' fol' back de doahs ob dy g-r-e-a-t glory, an' come down dis way jus' one time—jus' one time mo'. You knows de poor peniten's is a-tremblin' in dare sins, like de leaves a-tremblin' in de sto'm. You knows how dey's a-cryin' an' a-weepin' in de dark midnight ob dare gloom; you knows de moon's turn'd into blackness an' de stahs all blowin' out in de breff ob de tempes' sweepin' roun' de sky ob sin. O thou great Light ob de worl', po' in de floods ob de mohnin' upon dare trouble' souls. You see de backslidah trippin' an' a-stumblin' on his way to hell. O M-a-s-tah, come one time mo'; put on dy beautiful gahments an' come a trampin' down on de clouds ob dy majesty, an' stan' one time mo' upon de wave, as you done gone an' stan' on ole G-a-li-lee long time ago, come an' put dat han' whar de nail was driv' an' bleedin' an' a-hurtin' soah- o-h! come an' put dat han' on de backslidah's shouldah now, an' stop dat man dis night. Didn' you say you'd save de m-o-u-n-a-h? Didn' you promise to wipe away his drippin' teahs? you heahs de mounah's cry, you see his drippin' teahs. O turn roun' Zion's wheel jus' one time mo', an' open a little wi-dah de heaven's doah, an' let

down de glory! When de poor mounah call to-night—when he come a-creepin' an' a-weepin' to de altah, save, s-a-v-e, Oh m-m-m-m (a wailing chant by all), s-a-v-e by de blood ob de Lamb! [The people respond, "S-a-v-e by de blood."] Turn de wicked cl'ar roun'. Tell him whar to go wid his trouble' min'; show him what to do wid his poo' broken heart. Comfort de weepin' Rachels; let de weary Johns rest on dy breas'; hush de stohmy seas ob sin; b-l-o-c-k-a-d-e de road to hell; s-a-v-e, Mastah, O s-a-v-e by de blood ob de Lamb. When you heahs de wailin' Marys, tell dem dere dead brudders shall come out'n de grave an' live; tell de poo' chil'n dare sins is all forgiv'n; tell de a-n-gels to take up de harps an' de trumpets ob glory; fro w-i-d-e open de mansions ob de New Jerusalem fo' de jubi-l-e-e ober de one sinnah who turns to de Lo'd to-night. -Rev. Alexander Clark.

A PSALM OF THE UNION.

God of the free! upon thy breath

Our flag is for the Right unrolled;
Still broad and brave as when its stars
First crowned the hallowed time of old;
For Honor still its folds shall fly,

For Duty still their glories burn,
Where Truth, Religion, Freedom guard
The patriot's sword and martyr's urn.

Then shout beside thine oak, O North!
O South! wave answer with thy palm;
And in our Union's heritage

Together lift the Nation's psalm!

How glorious is our mission here!
Heirs of a virgin world are we;
The chartered lords whose lightnings tame
The rocky mount and roaring sea;
We march, and Nature's giants own
The fetters of our mighty cars;

We look, and lo! a continent

Is crouched beneath the Stripes and Stars!
Then shout beside thine oak, O North!
O South! wave answer with thy palm;

And in our Union's heritage

Together lift the Nation's psalm!

No tyrant's impious step is ours;
No lust of power on nations rolled,
Our Flag-for friends a starry sky;
For foes a tempest, every fold!
O, thus we'll keep our Nation's life,
Nor fear the bolt by despots hurled;
The blood of all the world is here,

And they who strike us strike the world.
Then shout beside thine oak, O North!
O South! wave answer with thy palm;
And in our Union's heritage

Together lift the Nation's psalm!

God of the free! our Nation bless
In its strong manhood as its birth;
And make its life a Star of Hope

For all the struggling of the Earth;
Thou gav'st the glorious Past to us;

O, let our Present burn as bright,
And o'er the mighty Future cast

Truth's, Honor's, Freedom's holy light.
Then shout beside thine oak, O North!
O South! wave answer with thy palm;
And in our Union's heritage

Together lift the Nation's psalm!

-Harper's Monthly, Dec. 1861.

CHARGE OF A DUTCH MAGISTRATE.

De man he killed vasn't killed at all, as vas broved; he is in ter chail at Morristown, for sheep stealing. Put dat ish no matter; te law says vare ter is a doubt you give him to der brisoner; put here ish no doubt, so, you see, ter brisoner ish guilty. I dinks, derefore, Mr. Foreman, as ve have nodings here for de celebration nex' veek, he petter pe hung nex' Fourth of July.