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conscience. It belongs to ecclesiastical establishments — it is something to talk about — it is a handy thing to have in the house — it is an article for which you may have use upon an emergency — but, as for a homely, good, every-day conscience, why you might as well keep an elephant to do odd jobs in the scullery. Bold Britons find conscience a capital thing when they wish to form a Society for Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts — but egad! when you come to Conscience vs. Cotton, John Bull is for the Defendant! Our little plan we trust will make everything easy. It is simply to give the Rebel Slaveholders all they ask — Slaves, the Presidency, the Congress, the Army, the Navy, the Treasury, the Control of Trade, the Direction of the American Church. Will they kindly consent to take us in hand? Will they intimate to our new government what we must do first? Do we kiss their hands or their feet? Or do we knock our forehead three times upon the ground in token of s
e said, was interrupted, but the firing was rather more heavy there than on the front or right flank, and a glade was pointed out in the forest as the beginning of Bull or Poole's Run, on the other side of which the Confederates were hid in force, though they had not made any specific reply to the shells thrown into their cover eathe enemy. He entered Centreville after the writer of this, and left before him. At the period of the hardest fighting, he was eating his lunch with a brother John Bull, near Gen. Miles's Headquarters. When the officer arrived at Centreville, announcing the apparent success of the Federal forces, (of which he gives a correct o the future, the eye of speculation is directed on the hoards of capital, and there is a firm belief that some clever person or another will succeed in inducing John Bull to part with a little of his surplus cash, for which he will receive egregious percentage. If the bulk of the capital and population of the North is thrown in
John Bull and Bull Run Editor of the Evening Star :--The battle-roar of Bull Run has been echoed back from the columns of the Thunderer--the London Times--in which, as was expected, Mr. Correspondent Russell figures lengthily as delineator of what he saw of that fight. By his own account, he saw nothing of the battle. He arrived at a late hour of the conflict at Centreville; saw not a shot fired; saw not one soldier of the rebel army, horse or foot, but was a spectator merely of the panic and the rout. In no respect, perhaps, has he given an exaggerated picture of either; but Mr. Russell has not hesitated to rest on his limited opportunities of seeing derogatory comments upon the character of the conflict he did not witness at all, and upon the behavior of our troops, successfully engaged for hours before and up to the time of his arrival — the first flying portion only of which he saw, and among whom he was himself (on testimony presently to be quoted) soon found in hasty ret
110. the London times on American affairs. John Bull vos a-valkina his parlor von day, Ha-fixina the vorld wery much his hown vay, Yen iy Jefferson D., Hand no longer “some punkins” vos likely to be. John Bull, slyly vinkina, then said hunto he: “My dear Times, my hold coveyusan‘ of brick,-- May'ap it warn't proper to do it — on tick, But John Bull is almighty, he'll see I am paid, And my cargo of cotton will break the blockade. Part Second, So Bull he vent hin the blockade for to bust; The Christians they cried, and the sinners they cussed; Therd wrote hunto Doodle, “Old hon, and be true!” And Jonathan hanswered Bull, “Bully for you!” Sequel after-times. Has Bull vos valking in LBull vos valking in London haround, ‘E found the Times lyina hupon the cold ground, With a big bale hof cotton right hover ‘is side; Says Bull, “Hi perceive ‘twas nd the Times lyina hupon the cold ground, With a big bale hof cotton right hover ‘is side; Says Bull, “Hi percei
38. the whole story told in rhyme. by W. J. S. John Bull he met our Jonathan, “Ah! Jonathan,” said he, sir, “Pray tell me, now, what's all this row I hear across the sea, sir? You're kicking up a pretty fuss, Pray tell me what it's for, sir; Let me advise: just compromise- A horrid thing is war, sir. “I shall want cotton, Jonathan, Likewise Virginia's weed, sir; And, really now, I can't allow This quarrel to proceed, sir.” “Du tell,” said Brother Jonathan, “Now, don't you get excited; At hum I rule — so just keep cool You'll see this thing all righted. “My Southern boys for years have held The Presidential reins, sir-- Until to-day they've held a sway They never can regain, sir. And when they cannot rule, they kick And hate with all their might, sir, For love of Union's second to Their fondness for State rights, sir. “They say we mean to free their slaves And take them from their hands, sir, And rob them of their property, Their daughters, and their lands, sir. We
90. Impromptu On a recent event. (Copyright in the Confederate States, secured.) Old Mason proud, and sly Slidell Away to Europe cut their lucky, Or thought they had, till sweet to tell, The pair were bagged by Wilkes the plucky. Wilkes brought them safely into port, Despite John Bull's protest and swearina, They thought Diplomacy their forte, They'll find their fort will be--Fort Warren. --Burlington Free Press, Nov. 22.
stuffed abortion; These gorgeous covers hiding empty dishes, These whale-like antics among little fishes-- Here is the very stuff to meet my dearest wishes. ” What ringing of each change on brag and bluster! These figures huge of speech, summed in a zero; This war-march, ushering in Bombastes' muster; This entry of Tom Thumb, armed like a hero. Of all great cries e'er raised o'er little wool, Of all big bubbles by fools' breath filled full, Sure here's the greatest yet, and emptiest, for John Bull! ”John always thought Jonathan, his young brother, A little of a bully; said he swaggered; But in all change of chaff with one another, Nor John nor Jonathan was e'er called laggard. But now, if John mayn't Jonathan style, Coward, He may hint Stripes and Stars were better lowered From that tall height to which, till now, their flagstaff towered.“ Punch nibbed his pen, all jubilant, for galling-- When suddenly a weight weighed down the feather, And a red liquid, drop by drop, slow falli<
ccomplished by the march of thousands and thousands, mounted and foot, preceding him throughout the day. It was the great central route of the army. Teams, trains, cannon, caissons, cavalry, choked the way. By them my horse pushed on, floundering as best he might, until, in the evening, Benton's tavern was reached, and the smooth, hardened Fairfax turnpike. From that time forth no mud, though much desolate country, ruined estate; nor any mud to seriously retard the transit of an army even to Bull, otherwise Bloody Run. There the clayey loam again is found, and from thenceforward to the Rappahannock region I learn that roads are nasty. Fairfax Court-House at nine P. M. And here one learns, first, that the whole army moved at sunrise; second, that all the divisions, except Heintzelman's, converged like the feathers of a fan toward the handle, and are now encamped in exact, compact, most beautiful and formidable order, within a radius of two miles about the Court-House; third, that G
Doc. 88.-fight at Paris, Tenn. Gen. Halleck's despatch. headquarters Department of the Mississippi, St. Louis, March 18, 1862. Hon. E. M. Stanton, Secretary of War: Our artillery and cavalry yesterday attacked the enemy's works one and a half miles west of Paris, Tenn. The enemy was driven out, with the loss of one hundred killed, wounded, and prisoners. Our loss, Capt. Bull, of the artillery, and four men killed and five wounded. A cavalry force, sent out from Lebanon, Mo., attacked one of Price's guerrilla parties, killed thirteen, wounded five, and captured over twenty prisoners, among whom was Brig.-Gen. E. Campbell, the commander. H. W. Halleck, Major-General.
rejoice that these men went down fighting to the last, and that when they went down they left the Star-Spangled Banner of the Cumberland flying at her peak; the emblem that no dangers, no perils, no enemies, no treasons, not ocean itself could destroy our liberty. [Loud applause.] Three cheers were given for Capt. Ericsson, for Lieut. Worden, and for the President. Mr Kearney of the Congress then sang a humorous song in praise of the yacht America, the curiosity and astonishment of John Bull being represented by the chorus: Oh! where did she come from? New-York Town. Who's the Captain of her? One Mr. Brown: which the crew sang with great gusto. The satisfaction of the audience found huge and prolonged manifestation, and the jolly tar was called back. He sang the first verse of Uncle Sam is rich enough to give us all a farm, and retreated under cover of the applause. Wm. E. Dodge, Esq., gave a vivid description of the destruction of the Cumberland and Congress, which
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