The Hon. Prince Van Brumagen next spoke. Undoubtedly, he would be called a traitor for what he
was about to say, but he was accustomed to that sort of talk from every one who knew him. He wished to see this war vigorously pushed forward; but he could never consent to see violence offered to men who only warred against us because they were mistaken. Our Southern friends had imagined that the Abolitionists wanted to prevent their enjoyment of the pursuit of happiness which was guaranteed to them by the Constitution. They were mistaken, and seceded. The Union as it was had passed away from us, but was undoubtedly somewhere on the Globe; and as the Globe was constantly revolving, we had only to stand still, and it would come round again to us in due time.
The Hon. Fernando Fuel next undressed his thoughts to the meeting. As proprietor of the City of New York, which he had frequently bought, he protested against the removal of the General of the Mackerel Brigade at this inclement season of the year. The idolized General was beloved even by the Rebels, and his own devoted troops had cheered even louder when parting with him, if possible, than when he had first come among them.
Here the speaker was interrupted by a chap who suddenly touched off the cannon and simultaneously unfurled a new banner. Borrowing a piece of smoked glass, I looked through it at the dazzling standard, and read upon its eloquent folds:
REGULAR HIGH-MORAL NOMINATIONS!
FOR THE SENATE IMMEDIATELY;
AND
FOR PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES IN 1865.
THE (LATE) GENERAL OF THE MACKEREL BRIGADE.
Observe, my boy, this simple rule, to make a hero of a fool:
Just keep him where he is, until his lack of wisdom, want of Skill, attract unto his banner those who, from perverseness, will have foes. Then freely make his dullness known; and when you'd cast him from his throne, you'll find become his followers true, all men who seek a feud with you. To serve the always-malcontent, and give their spleen a chance for vent, a knave, a dunce, a stump! would do as well, my boy, as I, or you.
When cats and politicians quarrel, "use any cat's-paw", is the moral.
Yours, sagely,
Orpheus C. Kerr.