The Continental Monthly, Vol. IV. October, 1863, No. IV. eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 276 pages of information about The Continental Monthly, Vol. IV. October, 1863, No. IV..

The Continental Monthly, Vol. IV. October, 1863, No. IV. eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 276 pages of information about The Continental Monthly, Vol. IV. October, 1863, No. IV..
Supreme Court of the United States, have declared that to the Federal Government belongs the ’entire regulation of the currency of the country.’  That power they have now exercised in the adoption of the system recommended by the Secretary.  Our whole currency, in coin as well as paper, will soon, now, all be national, which is the most important measure for the security and perpetuity of the Union, and the welfare of the people, ever adopted by Congress.  It is to Congress that the Constitution grants the exclusive power ’to regulate commerce with foreign nations and among the States;’ and a sound, uniform currency, in coin, or convertible on demand into coin, is one of the most essential instrumentalities connected with trade and exchanges.

After these preliminary remarks, I shall proceed with the discussion of the subject in my next letter.

R.J.  WALKER.

VOICELESS SINGERS.

  A bird is singing in the leaves
    That quiver on yon linden tree;
  So soft and clear the song he sings,
    The roses listen dreamily.

  The crimson buds in clusters cling;
    The full, sweet roses blush with bloom;
  And, white as ocean’s swaying foam,
    The lily trembles from the gloom.

  I know not why that happy strain
    That dies so softly on the air,
  That perfect utterance of joy,
    Has left a strange, dim sadness there.

  Perchance the song, so silver-sweet,
    The roses’ regal blossoms shrine: 
  Perchance the bending lily droops,
    And trembles, ’neath its thrill divine.

  It may be that all beauteous things,
    Though lacking music’s perfect key,
  Have with their inmost being twined
    The hidden chords of melody.

  So pine they all, to hear again
    The song they know, but cannot sing;
  The living utterance, full and clear,
    Whose voiceless breathings round them cling.

  Yet still those accents waken not;
    The bird has left the linden tree;
  A summer silence falls once more
    Upon the listening rose and me.

A DETECTIVE’S STORY.

The following is a true story, by a late well-known member of the Detective service, and, with, the exception of some names of persons and places, is given precisely as he himself related it.

Late one Friday afternoon, in the latter part of November, 18—­, I was sent for by the chief of the New York Police, and was told there was a case for me.  It was a counterfeiting affair.  Notes had been forged on a Pennsylvania bank; two men had been apprehended, and were in custody.  The first, Springer, had turned State’s evidence on his accomplice; who, according to his account, was the prime mover in the business.  This man, Daniel Hawes by name, had transferred the notes to a third party, of whom nothing had been ascertained except that he was a young man, wrote a beautiful hand, and had been in town the Monday before.  He was the man I was to catch.

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The Continental Monthly, Vol. IV. October, 1863, No. IV. from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.