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rm in the war. Such are the principal facts collected in this remarkable and timely publication. It is needless to say that we commend it to the careful perusal of all who desire conclusive information on a most important subject. It is evident that we are going through nearly the same stages of timidity, ignorance, and blind conservatism which were passed by our forefathers, and shall come, if not too late, upon the same results. It is historically true that Washington apparently had in the beginning these scruples, but was among the first to lay them aside, and that experience taught him and many others the folly of scrupling to employ in regular warfare and in a regular way men who would otherwise aid the enemy. These are undeniable facts, well worth something more than mere reflection, and we accordingly commend the work in which they are set forth, with all our heart, to the reader. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 5: Historical Notes on the Employment of Negroes in the American Army of the Revolution. By George H. Moore. New-York: Charles T. Evans, 532 Broadway. Price, ten cents.] A MERCHANT'S STORY. 'All of which I saw, and part of which I was.' CHAPTER II. The clock of St. Paul's was sounding eight. Buttoning my outside coat closely about me--for it was a cold, stormy night in November--I descended the steps of the Astor House to visit, in the upper part of the city, the blue-eyed young woman who is looking over my shoulder while I write this--it was nearly twenty years ago, reader, but she is young yet! As I closed the outer door, a small voice at my elbow, in a tone broken by sobs, said: 'Sir--will you--please, sir--will you buy some ballads?' 'Ballads! a little fellow like you selling ballads at this time of night?' 'Yes, sir! I haven't sold only three all day, sir; do, please sir, _do_ buy some!' and as he stood under the one gas-burner which lit the hotel-porch, I saw that his eyes were red with weeping. 'Come inside, my little man; don't stand here in the cold. Who sends you out on such a night as this to sell ballads?' 'Nobody, sir; but mother is sick, and I _have_ to sell 'em! She's had nothing to eat all day, sir. Oh! do buy some--_do_ buy some, sir!' 'I will, my good boy; but tell me, have you no father?' 'No, sir, I never had any--and mother is sick, _very_ sick, sir; and she's nobody to do any thing for her but _me_--nobody but _me_, sir!' and he cried as if his very
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