Semi-Weekly Dispatch

A number of medical gentlemen met lately in New York to discuss the medical equipment necessary for an army. Drawings were produced of an ambulance, made after the latest pattern used in the French army in Algeria and the Crimea. The ambulance is an omnibus-shaped vehicle, to be drawn by two or more horses, weighing some 1200 pounds, but constructed in such a manner that it may be easily detached, separated in several pieces in the interior, the most important portion can be easily carried by several men. The interior is, when fully standing, a row of beds, carrying six or eight men, with great ease, but when crowded, may be forced to transport three times that number. Each bed is a "field stretcher," or portable cot, which takes the wounded man from the field, and without any fatiguing change places him in this portable hospital. An India rubber bath is also attached.

The ambulance system is the result of Napoleon's great surgeon volunteered more freely, exposed their bodies with less thought, when they knew that there was an effective medical cops to attend in case of accident or injury. What if they received a ball or a bayonet thrust--pain to be sure, for which they cared little--but their surgeon could extract it, and in a few weeks or months they were well, and it was a distinction ever after. With an effective ambulance, they would undertake any march, knowing that, if over-fatigued, there they would be received, and not left on the road, to be killed by any thieving camp follower.

Bane and Antidote.

Regarding a modification of the Tariff, at the approaching extra session of Congress, we presented our views in a former issue. There is another and mare [sic] serious danger menacing us; one, compared to which Tariff modifications, and all other questions of mere political economy, sink into utter insignificance. This deadly foe, like its most fitting prototype, appears in the garb of an Angle of Light, and assumes the beneficent name of Compromise--Compromise with Traitors. The leaders of Rebellion, amazed and confounded at the grand display of loyalty ready to meet and foil them in their ignominious attempt at the subversion of popular Liberty, are seeking, by means of Northern sympathisers, to bring about a compromise, by which their necks may be saved the painful application of the hempen cravat which begins so ominously to loom up before their affrighted vision. Sorrowful indeed are we, that devastating and merciless civil war should become a necessity to our future peace and national freedom. But so it is. The die has been cast, and cast by the very men who now would fain [sic] compromise, and for our nation now to accede to any propositions of peace short of an entire yielding on the part of the Rebels, and the prompt punishment of the leading spirits among them, would entail upon our country and the world a curse which for its baneful effects would far eclipse any war the world has ever known. The evils of war are but temporary, these would be lasting. And indeed the war will doubtless be followed with such results as will prove of momentous good instead of evil.

As the physical world requires the scathing lightning, the destructive tornado, and even the overwhelming volcano and devastating earthquake, to purify the miasmatic atmosphere and render earth the suitable abode of man, so it has come to pass in the political history of our nation. The atmosphere of Washington has long been surcharged with the accumulations of venality and corruption. Plotters have been for years busy in secret conclave, ready to seize a nation's liberties that they might fill the cup of their own ambition; within a few short months treason stalked abroad there and elsewhere, not caring for even the covering of night, and eschewing as useless its wonted costume of Hypocrisy. Sitting in the seat of Power, under the plea of Justice, it dealt the fiercest blows upon the upholders of constitutional liberty: under the guise of Patriotism, inflicted the severest penalties upon the upholders of true freedom: and, under the pretext of law and order, reduced violence to a system, and placed a premium upon crime. Thank God, their end has almost come. Palsied and powerless, their last despairing cry is heard--"Let us alone." But no! a free people, inspired of Heaven, demand the utter destruction of even the elements of Treason. Woe to the hypocritical mocker, that shall attempt to foist upon us such a barefaced imposture as a compromise with Treason and Rebellion. Incensed and outraged Liberty has roused herself from the temporary lethargy into which she had fallen. With one hand she bears aloft the Stars and Stripes, with the other she grapples the throat of Treason. Speedily will the unequal contest be decided. Her foe must die, and his abettors will be crushed in his downfall. With her foot upon her prostrate foe, she will gather her rejoicing children to her banquet, and the feast will be Universal Freedom.

Correspondence of the Semi-Weekly Dispatch.

The following letter was sent us by a young townsman, of company A, 2d Regiment Pennsylvania Volunteers:

Camp Spielman, June 26, 1861.

As nothing of note has occurred since we left Camp Chambers, I have not thought it worth while writing. We are encamped on a farm belonging to the Messrs. Speilman, fourteen miles south of Hagerstown, and directly along the Sharpsburg pike. All the boys are in good spirits, and are getting along a great deal better than they expected. Our regiment is not ashamed to cope with any volunteer regiment in the Union in drill and appearance. Now that we have received new pantaloons, of light blue, our appearance is greatly improved.

Last night the picket fired nine times, one shot killing a young man belonging to the neighborhood. He passed the picket, but would not halt, when the guard fired on him, ending fatally to the young farmer. The boys were up in a second when the picket fired, and were very anxious for a brush. Few men of course feel disposed to rush recklessly into the very jaws of death, but "conquer or die" is the universal motto among us. While I am writing, the booming of Capt. Doubleday's cannon is faintly heard. Something must be going on--"bully for that!"

Yesterday evening the regulars captured a spy dressed in female apparel, while we were marching from Funkstown. I saw the same individual riding through the woods, and remarked to one of the boys that the stranger might be a spy in disguise. My suspicions were well founded--he rode too unwomanly on a side-saddle.

We wish to spend the Fourth in Virginia, and I hope this wish will be gratified. Instead of firing blank cartridge, we are eager to throw in the solid lead!

Give my love to all, and write to mother for me. Write to me also, for news from home is cheering, as you would yourself know were you in my situation.

Yours affectionately,
T. W. M.