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4 --pipy REV. A. J, RYAN, Editor- AUGUSTA, GA., JUNE 6, 1868. WHITHER ? There was a time when the people of this country looked to the future with trust and confidence ; but now men dread to craze into the coming days. A shadow hath fallen on the brightness of their hopes, and, with many a misgiving, they wait for the end, fearful lest that end should be darker and more terrible than imagination sometimes pictures it. The old trust in the future of the country has passed away —a real anxiety fills the hearts of the people. The Present wears a dark enough aspect —the Future looms darker still. Men meet one another and ask : “How will it all end ? Whither are we drift ing—for drifting we are, without compass, lie!in, or chart ? What will come next ? Despotism ? The shadow of despotism is on the South—when will it lengthen to. wards the North ? Anarchy ? In the absence of principle, there is the anarchy of passion at the very seat of Government, in the very halls of legislation; may not that anarchy spread any day, any hour, not slowly, not imperceptibly, for when anarchy comes, it sweeps down swift, sudden, and destructive as the hurricane.” 'these are men’s thoughts —these their questions—this the anxiety that is gnaw ing at their hearts. A few still cherish faint hopes; a few think that the people have still virtue and principle enough to workout their own political salvation; but the many have given up hope, and all are filled with a great anxiety for the future of this eounfry. Daily are en croachments made on the sacred domain of liberties hitherto regarded as inviola ble. Daily the voice of Passion silences the voice of Principle. Daily are political leaders becoming more violent and arro gant in their tone, and the people listen and obey. Daily are we becoming familiarized with the sword and bayonet, and when they reign, rights arc soon banished. And now, the very man who pre-eminently represents brute force, the very man whose hands are redder with slaughter than any other’s; the very man who, of all other men, represents the war power against us, is chosen and nominated by the acclamation of the leaders of a great party, as the best and most litting person for the highest position on this continent. What does it mean ? Will the line of Presidents close with a goldier in the White House, with the Con stitution at his feet, and a sword in his hand, lifted over the necks of a crouching people who have made themselves un worthy of .liberty. Such things have happened. The Past has brought down to us some strange and appalling stories of soldiers of success. And human nature never changes. And so, with much anxiety, we ask, “Whither are we tend ing?'’ but, in the darkness of the future, we cannot sec the answer to our question. Will it all end in despotism or anarchy ? Or out of our trials and dangers shall we come a better and a purer people ? MISREPRESENTATION, it was the fate ot our Divine Lord to bo misrepresented of men ; and his Holy Church, following in the footsteps of its oeioved Founder, must share that fate also. Her doctrines, her practises, her glories, are all misstated, misrepresented, by her enemies; and, despite the boasted enlightenment of the age, despite the authoritative declarations of her Councils and her Priesthood, despite the living testimonies which she oilers to the world every day and every hour of her life, these misstatements and misrepresenta tions are believed and repeated, to be repeated and believed again. Is it honest ? Is it fair ? Is it just ? thus to believe, and thus to slander, upon the testimony of an enemy ? Is it in keeping with that spirit of candor, freedom, and justice, of which the American people boast so loudly, and which the South, at least, so justly claims ? Surely not; and it is with no little confidence and pride in our people, that wo express the belief that they are beginning to realize the injustice of the policy which we are deprecating, and will ere long realize the great truth that the Catholic Church is not only not the monster which Puritanism has painted her, but that it is, indeed, the Church of God, the Church of pure Christianity, the Church of Freedom and Republicanism. They will realize this tact, too, that this Church alone, unshaken and undivided by the late dread shock of war, proclaimed, through its Ministers and its Press, the injustice of that war, and the righteous ness of the Southern cause. Its venerated Chief Bishop was the only sovereign who recognized Jefferson Davis as the head of a Nation ; and when that noble Chieftain lay, manacled and suffering in a felon’s cell, offered up his fervent prayers, night and day, to the Throne ol Eternal Justice that his galling chains might be triscenk from his feeble limbs, and the captive be once more set free. They will realize this other fact, too, that the only true Republics in the world to-day are Catholic Republics, and the freest of them nestling under the very shadows of Papal Rome and Catholic France and Spain ! Yes, the people of the South will real ize all this, and, realizing it, will repel the vile slanders which have been heaped upon a Church, which is “pure and unde filed”—upon a Church, whose Priests and Presses, aye, whose very doctrines are the friends of the South, the friends of Truth, the friends of Liberty ; and so, tnisrepre sentation will fall, pointless and harmless, to the ground, and Justice will bring to us that respect and friendship, a claim to which we so fairly and so fully have upon this people. CONCILIATION. We have all, doubtless, read much, and heard much, upon the subject of concilia tion—how it is the duty of the Southern people to conciliate the North, to bow the neck and bend the knee, as it were, to that great Baal of Despotism which has enthroned itself in the Capitol of the Nation, and lords its tyranny over the unhappy people of ten Southern States. What have we to conciliate them for ? What have we done so heinous, that de mands so much humiliation ? What have they done so generous, that demands so much gratitude ? Did we make war upon their principles, upon their rights, or upon their liberties ? Did we desolate their land, pillage their farms, and mur der their wives and children ? Were we guilty of all these atrocities, and so merited for ourselves the terrible punish ment which has been meted out to us ? And to lessen the rigors of this deserved punishment, must we now submit, uncom plainingly, to all the indignities they choose to put upon us, and tell them, with bowed heads and bended knees, your yoke is sweet, your burden light ? Have they been so generous as to spare our lives, which our wickedness had for feited, and thus have won our gratitude and humility ? Did their generosity show itself in murdering our people, in insulting our women and children, in plundering our farms, in desolating our cities and lands by fire and sword, in incarcerating innocent men in loathsome dungeons and prison houses, in placing irresponsible Military Dictators over us, in foisting illegal Conventions, and still more illegal Constitutions and State Governments, upon this people, in re stricting the liberty of the Press, and the thousand other petty acts of tyranny and oppression which we have to suffer and to endure ? Surely, it ought to be sufficient that we are compelled to endure them all, without requiring of us that further humiliation and shame of conciliating such a people guilty of such a tyranny. We are conquered, we are powerless to « resist; but our people have not yet lost the spirit of manhood with which God endowed them, and when they are asked to conciliate their foes and their tyrants, they have no answer to give but the bitter mockery of scorn and contempt which they naturally feel for foes without and foes within. We sought to vindicate a right which they hypocritically acknowledged we had—the right of self-government. Their superior numbers, and our limited re sources, defeated our efforts. Our soldiers laid down their arms, and “the conquered Banner” was slowly and sadly furled away, all with the vain belief that the conqueror was magnanimous and just ; that he would respect bra very and devo tion to a cause at least believed to be just. Yes, vain belief! No sooner were the arms removed from the hands of the South than the heavy heel of the tyrant came down upon her neck, and grinds there to this day ! Three years have come 'and gone since Gens. Lee and Johnson, surrounded by overwhelming numbers, their little armies reduced and starving, gave up their swords, and with them the cause for which they had so long and so nobly struggled, and placed the South in the hands of those against whom they had striven and contended. Three years of peace—three years of disbanded armies— three years of submission to every de mand upon us—and yet the heel of Tyranny grinds out the life blood, the energy, and the hope of the South ; and yet the Hag of the Nation floats over a country half free and half oppressed ; and yet the weak-spirited and craven-hearted sing 'peans of praise to the generosity of that Government, to the glories of that “dishonored banner,” to the forbearance of that exacting North, and urge upon us the duty of conciliation! What are we to conciliate for ? Whom are we* to con ciliate ? How are we to conciliate ? Alas ! we have conciliated enough—too much. We can now only submit and bear—trusting in the goodness and justice of God to lead us out of the house of bondage, as lie led the hosts of Irael, to a land freed from the tyranny of the oppressor, and blessed with that sunshine of freedom which our forefathers shed, when the day of American Independence first dawned upon this land. When the heel of Tyranny is removed and Justice and Right are once more awarded to us, then it will be time to talk of conciliation. Until then, we have our self-respect, our manhood, and our sense of justice to maintain, and our political rights to contend for. As for the rest, we must leave that to God. FATHER O’REILLY, This gentleman, the beloved Pastor of the Catholic Church in Atlanta, Ga., beiim about to depart for Ireland, whither lie goes to recruit his failing health, was re ccntly presented with a testimonial of the love and respect of his little flock. The Intelligencer of that city gives a full re port of the interesting proceedings on that occasion, which report we give in full here : FATHER O'REILLEY. We were not aware, until the follow ing tribute to the reverend gentleman, whose name heads this notice, washanded in to this office, that he had taken, it is to be trusted, only a temporary farewell of our city, and of the large congregation to whom he has spiritually ministered for so many years. The tribute paid to him was most deserving. Not only does Father O’Reilly’s congregation owe much to him of gratitude and love, hut so does our city, much of which that was, was saved through his personal influence, when it was consigned to the flames by order of Gen. Sherman, at the time it was evacu ated by his desolating army. In every other respect, in his clerical and social character, as Priest and citizen, lie has been an example and an ornament to our city. AYe trust that his absence will not be a prolonged one, and that he will re turn to his charge here so improved in his health that he may long live doing good in our midst. We invite the atten tion of our readers to the feeling tribute which has been paid to the virtues of this able and truly Christian gentleman : TRIBUTE. On Thursday, 21st instant, a committee from the Catholic congregation waited j upon the Rev. Thomas O’Reilly, who was i about to depart for Ireland for the pur- j pose of recruiting his health, lie having ! been long a sufferer; and presented Him with a purse of gold, as a slight, yet truthful, tribute of their esteem and grati tude for his faithful services. On the occasion of the presentation, the following address was most touchingly delivered by Mr W. J. Mann, who spoke as follows : Father O’Reilly : The honor lias been conferred upon me, by the comm.ttee from the Catholic congregation, of pre senting you with a slight token of their appreciation of you, on the event of your leaving the city ibr the purpose of visit--! ing your native land. The object which brings us here is not ] a pleasant one, Father, and yet it is die- ] tated by a sense of duty. You are going j to leave us. Tire words “good-bye, or j farewell," are never uttered with pleasure j by those whose misfortune it is to be I severed from one who is most dear to j them. To tell you that you are dear to i us, so tell you our regrets would require a language that neither the pen nor the tongue can master ; it belongs to the heart alone, and we are satisfied that you need no protestations from us to be fully sensible of all that we feel. And yet, we cannot let you leave us without giving you a token of our esteem and gratitude. It is a small offering. We regret circumstances do not enable us to (lo full justice to the motives which actuate us. We have the will but not the means. Accept then, Father, this feeble tribute. Farewell! May God grant you a happy journey ; may He soon restore you to health, and give us the pleasure of see ing you, ere long, once more amongst us ; and when you perceive the distant shores of your native land, which is, also, that of most of us, when you set your foot on that soil which is wet with the blood of the brave and the tears of the bereft, when you visit those sacred spots which remind Irishmen of their past glories and present woes, whether you ascend the steps of the altar or kneel at the foot of the cross; remember our hearts follow you, our wishes arc with you. Once more, farewell ! M. Mahoney, «fas. Lynch, P. Huge, C. P. McGuire, ~ ... Vvm. J. Mann, f T. C. Murphy, D. Wallace, Jno. Stephens, Present on invitation from Committee, John Keely. To which the Rev. gentleman respond ed as follows : My Friends : The closing paragraph in the beautiful and touching address which has accompanied your handsome gift, has so completely unmanned me that 1 cannot speak on the subject as I would wish to do, for it reminds me forcibly of the land of my birth—that land which has so often been bedewed by the blood of martyrs. This act of kindness on your part, gen tlemen, has come upon me quite unex pectedly, so you will please excuse the inability of my remarks to convey to you a proper idea of my feelings. 1 came amongst you a comparatively young man, with little experience and with the deepest gratitude to you for the same, l feel called upon to express my high appreciation of the kindness with which I have ever been treated by you— of the attention which every one of my suggestions to you has received, and of the promptitude with which every call of mine upon you, (true they were for the general good), was responded to. You returned from a species of exile, when the “red hand of war” had rudely driven you from your homes, completely prostrate pecuniarily. Yet my humble suggestion on the subject (and remark particularly, if you please, I was only the humble medium of performing your will in the matter), you, in conjunction with some good citizens not belonging to the congregation, and whom I here thank most heartily and sincerely, in the name of the good “Sisters,” at once furnished me'! with the means to build a school which will furnish your female children with a thorough education, an education, com bining, with a general information, the principles of truth and virtue. And this building will be a lasting monument to your credit. . Glancing backwards to the time of the destruction of Atlanta, I take pleasure in stating that not in a single instance did I meet with an Irishman who proved recre ant to what I regarded as his duty, and I have called upon them under all circum stances for such assistance as I may have needed. I beg that you will not give me credit for the performance of anything while amongst you, save my duty ; a duty which devolved upon me immediately upon taking the most solemn of oaths, as required at the time of my j ordination, and if 1 have succeeded in discharging this duty fully, I am not only content, but indescribably happy. Gentlemen, I will be absent from you for, I hope, but a short time; the delicate state of my health calls me to my native i land. I expect soon to receive the fond caresses of a loving and tender father and mother. Ido intend to return and again mingle with you, but the Most High may will otherwise. It may be that in crossing or recrossing the ocean, the dark wave may become my shroud, or it may be that in the happy home of my childhood, in the “Emerald Isle ” 1 may quietly breathe my last sigh, and this material body, which you now see before you. may be laid with the bones of my forefathers, and the green shamrock grow profusely over our commingled dust. The very dews may fall from Heaven upon our union in the grave. Yet, if such be the case, you will not be left a “widowed spouse;” our good Bishop will send one to take my place. That eternal presence which is promised us of Himself till the end of time in the Church, will ho re be exemplified, but in a holy way, indeed. I, as your Pastor, in leaving you now, am, as I was indeed, while residing amongst you, dependent upon your gene rosity; in fact, l will say —without being ashamed of it, too—your charity, for on what else has a Priest to depend ? Nothing; he can have nothing ; yet, to your credit be it said, you have always displayed towards me the most open handed generosity, and, even now, I have had repeated requests made upon me, that, “while in Ireland, I will not want for anything, but make a draft lor anv amount of means that I may desire.' Now, it is impossible for me to give you the very faintest idea of how deeply sen sible I am of your extreme kindness. To-day, after service, as I left the Church, J was most deeply impressed with a feeling of admiration for the good influences wrought upon the minds of the school children bv the ladies of the con gregation and their mothers. The chil dren crowded around me and bid me good-bye, with honest tears trickling down their little faces. This was, I think to me. my greatest trial, on this, my last day, (for some time, at least), amongst you, as it required no small effort on my part, to avoid bursting into tears. Only lately, when the good Redemp torist Fathers gave a mission in this city, one of them, in eloquent words, congratu lated me upon the moral tone which per vades this congregation; and it has al ways been my proudest boast that it would be very difficult to find a congrega tion in which parents attend more assidu ously to their domestic duties ; or young persons, both men and women, were more careful to attend to the duties which so ciety, as well as the Holy Church, de manded of them. I cannot let the opportunity pass with out expressing my thanks to the ladies of the congregation for their general kind ness toward me, and the promptness with which they have answered every call made upon them by me. And you, my son, who have uttered the expressions of esteem from my congregation for me, I have to thank tor your unwearied atten tions toward me and your zeal in your holy religion, and I congratulate you on your generally g*od and exemplary life. Again, gentlemen, let me revert to your thoughtful gift. For its intrinsic value 1 do not prize it, but, I assure yon, its reception, merely as a mark of vnr esteem, has furnished me with more cause for joy than would that of a com mission as Governor of the State of Georgia ; aye, or even as President of the united States. And when you kneel before Him who created you, to thank Him for past blessings and to implore new ones, deign to breathe a prayer to His throne that lie who has just spoken to you, may not himself be cast away, while you yourselves may be kept firm in your faith. The Figaro gives a piece of Irish news which we fancy will be news in Ire land. It informs its readers that aclaii is about to he pressed on the subject of the vast estates of the Princes of O’Pon lovi d’Uldia. Everybody conversant with Irish history is aware, says the Figaro, that the possessions of that family were entrusted to the crown f England in 1780 by the Countess o’P<; - nell for the purpose of being transferred to the heirs of her first husband, O'Pon levi, who died in exile consequent on the expulsion of the Stuarts. After having been considered as crown property f>r upwards of a century, the O’Donlevi estates, situated in Down and Antrim, and valued at more than £4,000,000, art now claimed by one of the family, who i prepared to prove his right to them. The Polish and Galician journals as-r that the claimant is a Polish emigrant.— Pall Mall Gazette.