He could n't see but jest one side,

Ef his, 't wuz God's, an' thet wuz plenty; An' so his "Forrards!" multiplied

An army's fightin' weight by twenty.

But this 'ere histin', creak, creak, creak,
Your cappen's heart up with a derrick,
This tryin' to coax a lightnin'-streak
Out of a half-discouraged hay-rick,
This hangin' on mont' arter mont'

Fer one sharp purpose 'mongst the twitter,

I tell ye, it doos kind o' stunt

The peth and sperit of a critter.

In six months where 'll the People be,

Ef leaders look on revolution

Ez though it wuz a cup o' tea,

Jest social el'ments in solution?

This weighin' things doos wal enough
When war cools down, an' comes to writin';
But while it's makin', the true stuff
Is pison-mad, pig-headed fightin'.

Democ'acy gives every man

A right to be his own oppressor;
But a loose Gov'ment ain't the plan,
Helpless ez spilled beans on a dresser :
I tell ye one thing we might larn

From them smart critters, the Seceders,

Ef bein' right 's the fust consarn,

The 'fore-the-fust 's cast-iron leaders.

But 'pears to me I see some signs

Thet we 're a-goin' to use our senses: Jeff druv us into these hard lines,

An' ough' to bear his half th' expenses; Slavery 's Secession's heart an' will,

South, North, East, West, where'er you find it,

An' ef it drors into War's mill,

D'ye say

them thunder-stones sha' n't grind it?

D'ye s'pose, ef Jeff giv him a lick,
Ole Hick'ry 'd tried his head to sof❜n
So 's 't would n't hurt thet ebony stick
Thet 's made our side see stars so of'n?
"No!" he 'd ha' thundered, 66
on your knees,
An' own one flag, one road to glory!
Soft-heartedness, in times like these,
Shows sof'ness in the upper story!"

An' why should we kick up a muss
About the Pres'dunt's proclamation?
It ain't a-goin' to lib'rate us,

Ef we don't like emancipation:

The right to be a cussed fool

Is safe from all devices human,

It's common (ez a gin'l rule)
To every critter born o' woman.

So we 're all right, an' I, fer one,

Don't think our cause 'll lose in vally

By rammin' Scriptur' in our gun,
An' gittin' Natur' fer an ally:
Thank God, say I, fer even a plan
To lift one human bein's level,
Give one more chance to make a man,
Or, anyhow, to spile a devil!

Not thet I'm one thet much expec'
Millennium by express to-morrer;
They will miscarry, I rec'lec'
Tu many on 'em, to my sorrer:
Men ain't made angels in a day,

No matter how you mould an' labor 'em,

Nor 'riginal ones, I guess, don't stay
With Abe so of'n ez with Abraham.

The'ry thinks Fact a pooty thing,

An' wants the banns read right ensuin';
But Fact wun't noways wear the ring
"Thout years o' settin' up an' wooin':
Though, arter all, Time's dial-plate
Marks cent'ries with the minute-finger,
An' Good can't never come tu late,
Though it doos seem to try an' linger.

An' come wut will, I think it's grand
Abe's gut his will et last bloom-furnaced
In trial-flames till it 'll stand

The strain o' bein' in deadly earnest :
Thet 's wut we want, we want to know
The folks on our side hez the bravery

--

To b'lieve ez hard, come weal, come woe, In Freedom ez Jeff doos in Slavery.

Set the two forces foot to foot,

An' every man knows who 'll be winner, Whose faith in God hez ary root

Thet goes down deeper than his dinner: Then 't will be felt from pole to pole, Without no need o' proclamation, Earth's Biggest Country 's gut her soul An' risen up Earth's Greatest Nation!

No. VIII.

KETTELOPOTOMACHIA.

PRELIMINARY NOTE.

66

IN the month of February, 1866, the editors of the "Atlantic Monthly" received from the Rev. Mr. Hitchcock of Jaalam a letter enclosing the macaronic verses which follow, and promising to send more, if more should be communicated. They were rapped out on the evening of Thursday last past," he says, "by what claimed to be the spirit of my late predecessor in the ministry here, the Rev. Dr. Wilbur, through the medium of a young man at present domiciled in my family. As to the possibility of such spiritual manifestations, or whether they be properly so entitled, I express no opinion, as there is a division of sentiment on that subject in the parish, and many persons of the highest respectability in social standing entertain opposing views. The young man who was improved as a medium submitted himself to the experiment with manifest reluctance,