The Alleghanian. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1859-1865, 1862-01-09
Thoughts on the Cid Year.

Correspondence of The Alleghanian.
Soon will the recording angel have
registered another year upon the hoaTy
pages of time Soon will one of the most
eyentful years of American history have
rolled away, leaving the historian the
most stupendous events to chronicle that
ever distorted the political world.
The past has been year OF revolutions,
both political and religious. 1t has been
year Of wonders, year Of miracles
An army, vast in proportion, formidable
in power, and as brave and patriotic as
ever entered the field, has spontaneously
arisen from the busy throng Of the city,
the quiet inhabitants Of the hamlet, and
the enterprising hus5andman. The stu
dent has left his studio, the lawyer the
bar, the minister the sacred rostrum, the
farmer the field, the mechanic the shop
and voluntarily laid themselves upon the
altar of their country. The boarded
wealth of this mighty nation glitters upon
her bending affairs and crowds her Golfers.
A navy floats along our eastern seaboard,
breathing death and destruction to the
hideous evil of secession.
One year ago the sun never shed his
beams on a country freer, better and hap
pier than our own. In ne other land was
there more active industry, more social
harmony, more abiding faith, hope and
charity Commerce launched her bark
upon the deep, with the assurance that
she had but the warning Of the elements,
and not the more appalling tyranny OF
man, to contend with. The Angel of
Peace chanted her sweet song from the
inland oceans of the North to the tropical
seas of the South The sword of rebel
lion reposed in its scabbard, and the bat
tle-cry was not heard in all the land.
Alas how changed the scene. Our
country now rocks beneath the tread of a
million Of armed men. The battle-cry
wakes an echo In almost every state, city
and village in the Union. The sword has
leaped from its scabbard, and is crimsoned
with the life current of those who one
year ago joined in the festivities of a
happy New Year" The Angel of Death
flaps his wings in triumph over the field
of ssnguinary strife, where lie buried the
blasted hopes of many fathers and homes.
In the last yedr the peaceful cottage of
the husbandman has been converted into
headquarters for the death-scheming
general, and his fields trampled beneath
the feet of war-steedS. The glorious old
Stars and Stripes that have in peace and
safety waved in a purer atmosphere than
despots ever breathed for nearly four score
and six years; in whose folds we have
found protection On every sea and in every
land, have been torn from their proud
eminence by Southern demagogues, and
the accurseG rattlesnake fag-ft emblem
Of the serpentine brood that inaugurated
secession-boisted in its place. May the
dag soon come when every sesesh or rat
tiesnake flag will be torn down, twisted
into string, and adjusted around the
neck of Secession, till the Old Serpent
the father of treason and the prince of
rebeIs-be chokcd out of them.
The old year viii soon be gone-gone.
too, for ever-with all its sorrows and all
its joys Its golden moments are drop
ping off, one by one, and each tells but the
number less, and brings US nearer and
nearer to the grave
Where are our friends, our parents, our
children, with whom we conversed on last
New Years day? Ask the old arm chair
of its former occupant, and silence with
it's solemn voice will whisper, Gone, never
to return The vacant cradle reminds the
mother Of the bright eyes, the golden
curls. the prattling tongue-but where Is
the opening bud Let the grave answer.
| Oh how many tears have been shed, how
many ties have been sundered, how many
families have been riven to pieces, how
many hearts have been made to bleed. du-
ring the past year? How many families
mourn the absence of beloved Absalom,
who, with FURNISHED steel in hand, is now
upon the tented field, or bleaching in a
warriors grave
The year is made up of sunshine and
shade, OF pleasure aud pain, Of disappoin-
ted hopes aud gratified ambition. Soon q
new year Will begin to chronicle its mo-
wing events What shall "a end in
peace or war? We will wait and see.
Wilmore, Dec. %, 1861. VIcToR.
Z - Il,