tions as to the means necessary to preserve from | bosom of Pennsylvania, and that all the dead desecration the remains of those interred there, in Pennsylvania be concentrated there; that having reference especially to the following points, to wit: (1.) location; (2.) condition, whether inclosed or not, whether with headboards or other means of identification; (3.) place and condition of mortuary records and names of officers who have had charge of same; (4.) recommendations as to disposition to be made of the grave-yards, whether to be continued or removed to some permanent cemetery near the place. General Thomas's chief quarter-master, General Donaldson, acting, we suppose, on these orders of General Meigs, has issued a circular, calling on all who have served in the army at any time during the war, in the Military Division of the Tennessee, for information as to the places of burial or scattered graves of our soldiers in that region, and he goes a step farther than the Quarter-MasterGeneral by intimating that the information is desired "with a view to the establishment of national cemeteries, and the removal to these of the dead, on the plan of those already in process of completion at Chattanooga and Stone River." We have found this circular in the papers, but judge it to be authentic, and sincerely hope General Thomas and his QuarterMaster are only a step in advance of what is meant by the Government at Washington.*

Antietam be pushed forward to completion in the heart of Maryland, and all the dead in Maryland concentrated there; that a great national cemetery be established at Washington, to include all the dead there and in that vicinity; those at Bull Run, Groveton, and Chantilly, those in the Valley of the Shenandoah, those at Fredericksburg, and Chancellorsville, and all who fell under Grant, from the Wilderness to Cold Harbor-this to be the largest and grandest of all, as befits its location; that another be located at or near Richmond, to include all the dead who fell on the Peninsula under McClellan, and all of Grant's dead from Cold Harbor to Lee's surrender, together with all other dead in Virginia, not sent to Washington; another, at or near Wheeling in West Virginia, to include all the dead of that region; another at or near Bentonville, or Fort Fisher, to include all who fell in North Carolina; another at Charleston, to include all who fell in South Carolina, both white and colored; another at Atlanta, to include all who fell in Georgia; another at Mobile, to include all who fell in Alabama; another at New Orleans, Galveston, Vicksburg, Arkansas Post, or Fort de Russy, St. Louis, and Perryville, to include all who fell in Louisiana, Texas, Mississippi, ArWe go for closing up the war now, and ending kansas, Missouri, and Kentucky respectively. it fitly and nobly. And with this view we sub- Tennessee has been so great a battle-ground, mit that the nation, with a united voice, should and is so large a State, that she seems to recall for these scattered dead of the Union army, quire four. The two at Murfreesborough and whether white or black, to be disinterred from Chattanooga, of course, ought not to be disthe places where they lie, and brought speedily turbed, and we trust never will be; the seventogether into great national cemeteries, where teen thousand dead at Nashville should have a they may repose in peace and dignity beneath cemetery of their own, to include the dead of the aegis of the Republic while time endures. Franklin, Fort Donelson, and other points adThe cost need not be large; and should it be jacent, and Shiloh should be marked by a millions, no Congress that we are likely to have cemetery, to take in the dead at Fort Henry, for some years to come would refuse it, if proper- Memphis, and all West Tennessee, except Fort ly called on. Gettysburg, Murfreesborough, and Pillow, where we had almost forgotten to say Chattanooga are models in their way, because the Secretary of War has already ordered a of their grandeur yet simplicity, or at least will small cemetery in perpetual memory of the be, when the nation has done its share of the savage massacre there. Of course the dead work, by erecting plain but tasteful monuments from each place should be kept together in there, as we have elsewhere indicated. So the these cemeteries, as far as practicable, at least those from different battle-fields, for obvious reasons. This would give a national cemetery to every State affected by the war, on the field of our greatest victory or at place of most importance, to stand as a monument forever to the South, and to us all, of the crime and folly of Secession. We would establish and keep these, not from Northern glorification, nor as a taunt to "our wayward sisters" of the South; but as a just return, due our heroic dead, from the enlightened civilization of the age, and as a standing exhibition to the world of the might and majesty of the Union, the dignity and power of a free republic, the sentiment and culture of a self-governing people.

cost of maintaining them will be small, as the troops might be charged with this duty in time of peace, and in time of war they could readily be provided for.

To get at this practically we would suggest that Gettysburg be retained where it is in the

• Since preparing the above, the Quarter-Master-General has announced that it is the intention of his Department, sooner or later, to inclose the cemeteries (i. e., the rude grave-yards or burial-places) of all Union soldiers, and of all prisoners of war, with plain but substantial feuces, and to mark the graves with a suitable head-board, bearing name, company, regiment, and State of each man, so far as can be ascertained. He says, it is also "his wish to publish a record of the names and places of interment of all soldiers who have perished in the service of the United States during the war." This is certainly very creditable to the Quarter-Master's Department, and the country will thank General Meigs for his just and humane views, so far as they go.

VOL. XXXIII.-No. 195.-Y

We esteem this the Nation's solemn duty, and would urge it from every consideration of patriotism and humanity. We owe it to pa

triotism. We owe it to humanity. We owe | freedom, and that the Government of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

MISS INGERSOLL'S PRIDE.

W

I.

HEN John Ingersoll died, it was found

it to the intelligent progress we boast, and to the perfect freedom God has permitted us to save and enjoy. Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori is a good sentiment for soldiers to fight and die by. Let the American Government show, first of all modern nations, that it knows how to reciprocate that sentiment by tenderly collecting, and nobly caring for, the remains of that out of a great fortune and a great those who in our greatest war have fought and business there wasn't enough left to support his died to rescue and perpetuate the liberties of family. The great fortune had been entirely us all. Let us emulate the lofty example of swallowed up in his mercantile enterprises, and that other republic, Athens, in the best days though these were so large that the income must of her supremacy, and thus rebuke forever the have been in proportion, still, there never seemed current calumny and slander about "the in- to have been a time when any thing was laid by. gratitude of republics." We are sure the army It was all "spend as you go" with John Ingerwould rejoice, through all its grades, to see this soll: and certainly this spending had been condone, from the humblest private to the Lieu-ducted in a very royal manner. There was nevtenant-General, and the people would approve, er any stint of pleasure in his house or in his large-hearted, great-thoughted, as they always family. He never spoke a word of limitation are, where the national name and fame are in- to his wife or his daughters. Money seemed volved. always easy with him, and it flowed like water; and he, the dispenser of it, was always, in externals at least, a genial, jovial gentleman. When he came to die, and it was discovered that the great business had used up the great fortune, and there was nothing behind, nothing to show for it now the great manager was gone-what conjecture and perplexity there was as to how those three girls and Mrs. Ingersoll were going to live! "What will they do?" was the question that rung through Avenue-dom late and early in the first excitement of the knowledge that had come to them.

We acknowledge to have written this article con amore, and to have lingered upon it perhaps more than we should have done. Our excuse is, that we served with our armies, both in the East and in the West, throughout the war; are conversant with many of the fields and most of the facts we have mentioned; and we frankly confess to the instincts and feelings born of the march and fight, the bivouac and camp-fire. We do not know how we can better or more appropriately end it than by Mr. Lincoln's brief dedicatory address at Gettysburg in 1863, which, in the light of subsequent events, sounds more like inspiration or prophecy in this connection than the utterance of mere human lips:

"Kate can teach music!" said one. "She plays well, you know."

"Julia can turn governess, for she was the best scholar at Madame's the whole time!" said another.

And still another: "Em can paint pictures —she has a taste that way!"

"Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth upon this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, test- So they were severally disposed of, over and ing whether that nation, or any nation so con-again. But not one of these things did they ceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We do. are met on a great battle-field of that war. We are met to dedicate a portion of it as the final resting-place of those who here gave their lives that the nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

People never do what is expected of them. A gay little lady who was one of the Ingersoll's "dear five hundred" was the first to tell the story of their whereabouts in Avenue-dom. She came flying in to Mrs. Croesus's boudoir with the exciting question, properly emphasized :

"What do you think has become of the Ingersolls, Mrs. Croesus?"

"They've opened a girl's school! I told Mr. Croesus it would be the very thing!" returned Mrs. Croesus, triumphantly.

Mrs.

"But in a larger sense we can not dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it, far above our power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember, what we say "Not they. Wait, you'll never guess. here; but it can never forget what they did Ingersoll has gone to Philadelphia to spend the here. It is for us, the living, rather to be dedi-winter with a sister of hers; Kate and Julia are cated here to the unfinished work that they have thus far so nobly carried on. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us; that, from these honored dead, we take increased devotion to the cause for which they here gave the last full measure of devotion; that we here highly resolve, that the dead shall not have died in vain-that the nation shall, under God, have a new birth of

with the Delanos-cousins, I believe, of theirs; and Em, after staying a week at Mrs. Vandervere's, has disappeared somewhere into the country, and the joke of it is, Kate and Ju won't tell where."

More in this strain the young lady rattled off, and then took herself and her gossip, perhaps, into another boudoir. And all the time those two proud girls, Kate and Ju, were learning their

little arrangements of a like nature.' Oh no, she doesn't say this, but she does it. I go down

first lesson of bitterness, and speculating with new and keen pain upon this very kind of gossip. "Oh, but I wish Em had staid at Mrs. Van-to lunch some day, and I find Tom Vars's little, dervere's!" sighed Julia.

red, good-natured face beaming over the tableIt was the end of all her sighing-the burden cloth. Mrs. Van has 'picked him up' on her of all her complaint. If Em had only staid at way home from Stewart's. And another time, Mrs. Vandervere's. And why didn't Em stay in the same place, sits Mr. Sizar, looking pale at Mrs. Vandervere's? For this reason: she and interesting across his coffee-cup. She has was too proud. Em was the eldest: Miss In-picked him up' too. And then Tom has some gersoll. Too proud, she called it, and the other girls thought it was a lack of this quality. In the first breaking-up Miss Ingersoll had accepted Mrs. Vandervere's invitation to spend a year with her, because there seemed nothing else to be done just then, and if there had been, her mind was too confused to make any plans. A year, and she only staid a month. But that month was longer than any year Emily Ingersoll had ever known. She had been there barely a week when she surprised her sisters one morn-left for me but a good match, and I suppose ing with the information that she "shouldn't stay at Mrs. Vandervere's any more.'

"Not stay? what is the matter, and where are you going, Em?" asked all, in a breath of

amazement.

"One thing at a time;" answered Miss Ingersoll, with a cool, impenetrable face. "I sha'n't stay because I am convinced that I was never made to eat the bread of dependence."

sort of commission for her, and when he comes to the house Mrs. Van is engaged and can't see him, and will I go down? And Mr. Sizar calls to bring her a particular paper she wanted, and she is engaged again, and I am requested to go down and thank him for her. This is the way I am put up for sale. I think of Ethel Newcome and her little green ticket every day of my life. And yet Mrs. Van thinks she is doing her duty by me. In her estimation there is nothing

after all that that is the usual feeling as the world goes, toward reduced gentlefolk like us, Ju. But I don't see it,' as Jimmy Vandervere says."

66

Emily Ingersoll looked them steadily in the face while she made this astounding reply: "I am going to Meriden Centre to open a dress-maker's shop."

66

Emily Ingersoll!"

As she concluded Kate and Julia eyed her with some alarm. Em had ever been a kind of perpetual surprise to them. She was unlike them. Not at all a proper young lady, who did as the rest of young ladydom did; but full of "notions" of her own, new ideas of right and "Why, you don't mean that Mrs. Vandervere wrong, and strange interests which they couldn't makes you feel that it is the bread of depend-account for. She was what most persons call ence-that she doesn't treat you well, and-" 'queer," and another class "transcendental." "Makes me feel? Well, I don't know as It was no wonder then, that, after this outburst any body does that. I think it is the circum- of hers, her sisters should regard her with some stances. Mrs. Vandervere is kind, she treats alarm. What was she going to do? And presme well: oh yes. But I don't like it. I am ently they asked her the question. invited for a year; at the end of that time if I don't get married-which is Mrs. Vandervere's plan for me;" and here a gleam of some fiery spirit shone in the speaker's eyes: "why, I must depend upon another invitation elsewhere. My day of grace will be up with Mrs. Vandervere —and quite rightly; don't think I am complaining. There is no reason why Mrs. Vandervere should ask me for any longer: she is very kind to ask me for the time she has. I am simply mentioning the fact of limitation Yes, very pretty pictures; but I couldn't I don't relish the prospect of living round-go- earn enough to keep me from starving painting ing from 'pillar to post,' as Mary Nelson used those pretty pictures. I have only a taste for to; and as the marriage prospect, notwithstand-painting, and some talent-not a bit of genius: ing Mrs. Vandervere's hopes, is more than un-I found that out long ago. But for dress-makcertain, I think I had better be looking about ing, that little French Arles used to say when I me; bestirring my wits, to employ them in an got into a hurry and helped her about my party independent manner; which is, after all, what I dresses, 'Mamselle, you have de one grand talalways meant to do." ent. If you was poor girl now, you could make your fortune.' Well, you see I am 'poor girl' now, and with my 'one grand talent' I am going to make my fortune."

"Em, Mrs. Van don't plan openly to you of marrying you off?”

Em laughed. "Oh, she don't say, 'Emily, the only thing for you to do is to get married, and you've got a year to do it in.' She don't say, 'Now there is Tom Vars, who always admired you, and who has quite a snug fortune; and Mr. Sizar, who admires you still more, and has a still snugger fortune; and I'll invite them here to tea quietly, or to lunch some day when I'm out: and then we'll follow it up by various

"Of course, I knew you would dislike it; and so do I. But, girls, I know it is the one thing I can do."

"But, Emily, you can paint pictures beautifully."

The tears ran down Julia's cheeks, and Kate's aristocratic profile suddenly grew sharp and severe, as she said, hastily:

You,

"Em, I think this is too bad of you. who might do something so much higher, to turn to an occupation that requires simply mechanical skill-what Ann Mahoney down stairs could do as well."

"I know, Kate, it is one of the common in- | nizing eyes went on a general survey. She was ferior occupations; but I am morally certain it evidently not displeased with what she saw, for is the only thing I can do to real pecuniary ad- coming back from the survey she says: "Can I vantage." see Miss Ingersoll ?"

"And to think of your going to Meriden Centre: such a high and mighty town. They are just like English people there, and they'll patronize and snub you unmercifully," Julia cried out through her tears.

"That's just why I selected it, because it is 'high and mighty.' I remember the summer we spent at Meriden Hill the Meridenites outrivaled us all in the splendor of their attire. So I thought it was a fine field for my grand talent.'"

Much more of this kind of talk followed during the interval that elapsed before the flitting to Meriden; but though it pained deeply, it did not move Emily Ingersoll from her purpose. She was older than the others-twenty-six, though most persons couldn't believe it, she looked so young. And when, as a last suggestion, Julia half hinted that if she would remain in her own station she might perhaps better her condition without sacrifice of any sentiment, she answered, a little satirically:

"I'm twenty-six, Julia, and I have never yet found this Sir Launcelot you hint at, though I have been quite a queen of the revel for the last | six of the years. It isn't very reasonable, then, to count upon his coming at this day, when I am not even one of the maids of honor, but only a kind of hanger-on at court. I've known girls spend the best of their lives in this waiting expectation; but I don't see what they did with their self-respect in the mean while."

Julia would sigh at these replies, and Kate would shrug her shoulders and comment severely upon Emily's transcendental notions. And all the visible effect this had was to hurry Emily off to Meriden Centre.

II.

Young Mrs. Chatam, riding down Main Street, at Meriden Centre, one morning suddenly caught the glitter of a new sign:

th

MISS INGERSOLL,
FASHIONABLE DRESS-MER

Beneath this si, in quite a large window, was a lay-figure, got up in veritable silk and thread ce in such an unique and artistic style Mrs. Chatam became interested at once. Consequently she stopped for further observation. Consequently she turned her phaeton before the door, and alighting therefrom went into the new shop for closer inspection. She was full of curiosity and question. "Did Miss Ingersoll come from New York." Miss Ingersoll did.

"And did she dress the model there? and was that a new pattern of sleeve and trimming?" All of which questions Miss Ingersoll's assistant answered affirmatively. Mrs. Chatam tapped her fingers meditatively upon the table, and from the charmingly dressed model her scruti

The assistant disappears through an inner doorway, and presently reappears with Miss Ingersoll.

Mrs. Chatam, who has an eye to business, regards Miss Ingersoll with keen attention, and after two or three well-put questions, which were as well answered, she says, inwardly: "She'll do, I'm certain." Whereupon a negotiation was immediately entered into, and home drives the lady to communicate her "morning's luck" as she calls it. She bursts into Madame Chatam's room with : "Mother Chatam, I've engaged your new dress-maker to make up my dresses." Mother Chatam removes her spectacles. "My new dress-maker; what do you mean, Louisa ?"

Louisa laughs and relates her discovery.

"I knew she must have taste, if not skill and experience, when I found she got up that model; why, it was a regular fine lady in real silk and thread lace: and the loveliest trimming, perfectly novel and unique! Then I learned, by some questioning, that Madame Arles, of New York, is her reference, so I engaged her at once."

"That's just your hasty way, Louisa. Why didn't you wait until you heard about her work?"

Mrs. Louisa began to look uneasy, but she wasn't going to let "Mother Chatam "know it; so she said, valiantly, "Oh, I feel perfectly satisfied as she comes from Madame Arles, even if her fitting of the model wasn't just as charming as it could be!"

Mother Chatam resumed her spectacles with rather an incredulous air, and hoped in rather an incredulous tone that Mrs. Louisa wouldn't be disappointed. It was an awful wet blanket, this air and this tone, to little Mrs. Chatam. She would have given any thing just then if she had waited, as Mother Chatam had suggested. But it was too late now to retract. She had engaged Miss Ingersoll for the first of the weekAnd when the first of the week came, and she stood under the hands of this Miss Ingersoll, she fortified herself against any little misgiving by another admiring glance at the layfigure arrayed so charmingly in real silk and lace.

That figure had been a trump card to Miss Ingersoll; but she never told any body that she took one of her old silk dresses, and improvised the trimming out of some lace that she had wor to perhaps a dozen balls, to get up this charming array. Yet such was the fact. There were a good many other facts too about which Miss Ingersoll did not find it necessary to speak. She told nobody at the time, not even kind, sympathizing little Madame Arles, who would have done 'most any thing for her, that she had spent nearly all of the small fund-that was her portion out of the great ruin-to start herself

"Oh, Mother Chatam, I think it's a love of a to Miss Ingersoll's; I can't move a step on that fit, and when I go home to Boston, I verily be-foot without pain. Why, just look at it." And lieve I'll send down to this country dress-maker Mother Chatam lifted her skirt from the disof yours whenever I need any thing." abled foot, reposing upon a brioche.

"A good deal you will," Mother Chatam re-opened her eyes with amaze: turned, in her short, incredulous tone.

"Well, I will; see if I don't, for I'm all out with Miss Mackenzie; she shall never set another stitch for me. If it hadn't been for that,