The Norcross advance. (Norcross, Ga.) 18??-????, January 14, 1874, Image 1

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The Norcross PL'BMSUED EVERY WEDNESDAY BY V INC E N T & MORRIS, 81 BSC IM PTTON RATES * fine copy, one year ------ $2,00 Five copies “ “ ------ $8.50 Ten “ “ “ - - $15.00 »■»< ADVERTISING RATES:— n—- 'Si ac« 1 w-J w;i m 2 iri;6 mJ2 m j inch $1 00;$ 1 50$ 250 $ 4 s<rs(j 00! $lO 00' 2 “ 150! 2 50| 450; 7 45:10 00! 1H 00. 8 “ 2 00; -3 00; h 00| 900 <5 00! -22 00’ 4 “ 2 50' r 8 50| 5 SO; 11 00| 1800! 27 00 3-7 col. 3 00i 4 8 50,■ 14 00; 25 00, ; 35 00' , : i “ 5 50; SOO 12 50 25 00:40 00 5000: 1 “ 10 Os)! 45 00 15 00 22 00 M 2 00 100 00 AdvGittffe lest f*,w one-tourtli of ■a'cchhun to be charged for by the square for fired in ertion $1 00 and for each sub toequefit insertion 5o cents. Special con trr.cte c: n made whe?e short udvertise- UiiijtL are luUsrted for a longer period than tin e months. Ote inch shall ectsti tHtensi iai<>. Marriage notices and obituaries, ex ’cet ding six lines, will be charged for as Sa<|>erti Oinrnts. Personal <>r abusive communications, ’will not be inserted at any price. Communications oY g4--weral or focsl in terest, under a genuine signature, are t’espectlully solicited from any source. VINt ENT & MORRte, Publishers. Attention Buyci’s ! We a: e offering for cXsii Ufo following lines 01 goods very low : DRY GOODS. Staple and Fancy. Shoes. Ladies’, Mens’ and Boys’. Mens’, Boys’ and Ladies’. Groceries. Heavy and Light-. ‘TINWARE, HARDWARE, CROCKERY, ETC., ETC. We have on hand a consignment of Virginia Salt, which wc are offering very i< w Give us a cap lirfore purchasing else where, aftd ■<?<> WAY hTsit atl* to call for what you want to see-. •‘Quick sales ahA svftal! profits” is our hiotlo. »x>t22 if ALLEN & JONES. Nave yoitT "JCeetli. My 7'ertikt <t*-e Moderate. All work Office at Cousin John’s Hotel. I will be in Norcross the fourth week in every montfr. R. E. CASON, D. D. 8. novs ly WAR IN HEAVEN! -A disquisition, Biblical and Rational, con ’cenMitg Angels, Devils ami Men, und the Vnsfi<>ii, fall and redt-mpfion of th.- human 1 Moul, by Janies P. Simmons, now of Nor- Tr-./iw, Ga., can be had of Lively & McEl roy at Norcnw, or of J J & S P Richards, , or Puilitps & Crew, Atlanta, Ga. Price $1 ;50. jan7,lt!74-tf AT ATLANTA PRICES! IN IHLSTSm STDBE AKE DRY-GOODS, FAMILY GROCERIES* iiiox, nnras, BOOTS AND SHOES, HARDWARE, TINWARE, CROCKERY WARE, WOODEN WARE, ETC. ETC. 1 will duplicate Atlanta Bills mid give Allanta prices for all country products. 1 respectfully sollict (he trade of the citizen’s of Norcross and Gwinnett, Forsyth and Milton counties. I shall keep on hand a large assortment of everything in my line and shall make it Io the interest of my customers to trade With me instead of going to j Atlanta to buy nr sell. I MEAN BUSINESS' Give me a call and satisfy yourself. S. T. McELROY. Ike. 31,‘73-ly -tzir.4 I’s ON BAND At Reascß-tte Pri.es DRY GOODS, GROCERIES, BOVTs AND SHOES. Call at 1 A. MILLERS on corner next Acudemv street. Dec. SI, "73 !y I respect fully call the attention ! ol the PUBLIC to my NEW AND WELL 8 ELL CT KI) ST O C K O F G OO DS ! Consisting of DRY GOODS, GIUX'ERIES. CUTLERY. HARDWARE, KTC n ETC. Srk-vlcd <>{K*»sUy f-u this u»uk« t, and for -ah- al r. miMAc pHcs-* < til *nd ex *:nim. G. W\ WALLACE- Ike. 3! TS-ly Dr. Ray b^aerrive,la the praeth-c <*f MexTkzttve- and s-urg- ry. His is at NVrww*. norlS-t* Tffi \ORCIiOSS ADVANCE. — I BY VINCENT & MORRIS. ■■■ 11 ‘n'iiTV « CHEAP HOMES, I il I ’ L 1' H iNJ OS LONG THE 17OTt SA.I-E IA GWINNETT COUNTY. ! * The Ihhds which were advertised for sale in Lawrenceville, on the first Tues day in this month, by the subscriber, were not sold at auction, as was intended, in ctyiseqnence of the money crisis now pre vailing, and the heavy rstilit wlich fell din ing sale hours. A minimmn price was fixed on each tract, however, and a few were sold at private sale. Those descriW.d below were not sold, and are at the price to each annexed, to-wit: The Northeast corner of lot number 141, and a part of number 148, containing about 75 acres. This place lies one mile south ot the Coni t-hous6, in Lawrenceville, on the Covington road-. There is a dwelling house, stable, well of first-rate water, a > young orchard, and about forty acres of’ pretty level gray land in a good conditio 1 for a crop next v-'ear; bAlahce is all in the woods. Price $lO a we. The Southeast corner o's the same lot. and part of number 148, making another tract of about 75 acres. This is all in the woods, and contains a good deal of branch bottom, with a beautiful building spot, on the same road. Price $7 per acre. The Southwest earner of number 111. I’his is all in the woods, lies well and is well timbered, except some ten to fifteen acres, which is a pine old fine. The soil is good and contains a large proportion of bottom land-. Price $7 per acre. The Northeast, SArtheast and South west quarters of lot niiMber HO. contain ng, according to original survey, sixty two and a half acres each. The Cov ngtoii road runs nearly on the Northeast line of this lot, and a right of way to the lower side of tfo lot frota the road will be re serve.!. These three tracts are ail in the woods, well watered, and on each could be opened a nice little farm. Price ol each $7 per acre. As many of the above tracts will bo sold together as may be desired, or any person applying can have either alone. A tract of 22Jf acres, adjoining Wm. J. Born, Dr. Mitchell and Colonel N. L. Hut chins" lauds, lying inside of the town cor poration, and good red land, well watered, all ready for the plough. Priets;s per acre The Gordt n place,with 50 acres of wood land, in the Southeast corner of number 130. On this Dial's* there is a gOod dwelling house, with seven rooms, AiSd a crib anti xtulde, one and a fourth miles from the Court-house, on the Jefferson road. There is a first-rate spring, well improved and surrounded by the native forest trees, near the house, add abofil 75 si-res ot first rate red land, now all lying out. The houses and fences are in bad condition, but can be made gooitwith but reasonable cost. The two tracts contain lt& acres. Price sl.2tX>. Any comi*etei«t Judge would, ou seeing this property prvnonnce it very cheap. The Hollinsworth place, oh the same road, two mi es from the CoUrhbcuae. This place contains SSO acres, number 207, and has always been considered one of the best farms in the neighborhoodi Im provements fair, about ow-hslf e*eared. and the other in the viou-ls. If desired, 'this lot will be divided into two equal s parts, by running a line across the road, so as to throw o»e-half on the side next to K.T. Terrell, and the other next to J. M. Ambros’ farm, amt the purchaser can have choice of sides at the price asked, I w hich is $1 d per acre. Also, about 75 acres in the Northeast t I corner of 10l number 13U, o- the same ; road, and adjoining the lands of J. M. j ! Ambrose and others. Os this tract about ■ ' 25 acres is old field, and the balance all : ' wood lands. There is an oM house place i I on the road, two and three-fourth miles : > from town, and several fruit and shade | i tree* areund it—a beentifbl place for a ' < residence. Price six dollars per acre. All these lands lie in the fifth district of j I said county, and within eight or niueniHes | ! of the Air-Lino Railroad, and to enable •_ ! persons of small means to secure homes j > for themselves and families, are offered ou j the following easy terms, to-w it: One- l fourth cash,one at two years, one st three I > and the other at four years, with interest < ! at ten per cent. William E. .“Immnn*, Samuel J. Winn, i Jer Dr. F. K. Mitchell, would show the! ! property to strangers wishing 10see it, | Per further p*rtie tier*, addre-. JAMES p. SIMMONS, | ne* I2tf AT LAST! BY H. H. ' O, the J’cafs I Idst before I knew you, Love! O, the hills I climbed and came not to you. Love! Ab! who shall render unto us to make Us glad, I he - things which for and os each other’s sake We h ve had ? If you and I had sat and played together, Love! Two speechless IriViefc in the Summed weather, Love, By one sweet brook which, though it dried up f’eng ag<x Still makes for me 10-day a sweeter song Ti.an all I know— If hand in hand through the mysteries gate way, Love, Os womanhood, we had first looked and straightway, ♦ Love, Had whispered to each ‘-tthet- softly, It yet Was dawn, what now in noonday heat and fear We both forget— If all of this had given its completeness, Jjove, I’o every hour would it be added sweetness, Love, Could I know sooner whether it were well Or Ml With thee ? One wish could I more surely tell. Morg swift fulfill ? • Ah ! vainly thus I sit and dream and pon der, , Love, Losing the precious present while I wonder, Love, About the days in which you grew and came ’ To be So beautiful, and did not know the name Or sight of me. But all lost things are in the angels’ keep ing. Love: No past is dead for us, bet only sleeping, Love; The years of Heaven with all earth’s little pain Make good, Togetbi r there we can begin again In babyhood. LOVE IN A SNOWSTORM. T know 1 am pretty/ said Clare Wintringham b® herself, gazing ctmiposedly into her mirror, ‘but I do not think I am sufficiently beautiful to send all the young men' of my acquaintance into ecstAcies over t'Ae? It is not always very easy for a girl to judge of her own looks; but Clare tried to be as impaatial as possible on this special occasion. Ami what was it that she saw reflected in the glass before which she stood, critically surveying the creature whom the world called Clare Wintringham? A talk supple figure, with slop ing shoulders and a daintily taper ed waist; a sk.n a$ soit as satin, and tinted like an oleander bios som; dTep blue eyes, just faded into violet at the iris; and a little fresh mouth, where the teeth shone at every smile like pearls through a crimson shell. "Yes/ said Clare, nodding hei head so that certain spirals ofgol den brown hair which always hung over her forehead danced up and down. ‘lamprettyi Then that live hundred pounds a year that I’iicle Bruce's will secured to me isn't altogether a disagreeable pill for some of my Infers to swal low. I don't think I was made for an heiress, I like to make and mend, to patch and contrive, and I've always had an idea that I would make a splendid poor man's wife. I mean, ol course, a splen did wife for a poor man.' She took from her belt a wither- i : ed red rose and a bunch of violets I ! as she spoke, and arched her pret ! ty eyebrows over them in a puz-1 j zled fashion. . "Harry Geliette gave me the | rose.' she soliloquised. ‘He’s | very handsome, is Harry, and I \ I always did have a weakness for i handsome people; and he's a > rising young man in his proles ; sion, people say. 1 like talented | 1 people, too. I'll keep the rose | j just a little while.’ And she laid it away in acer-! j tain satin-lined box where she | j was wont to treasure souven.rsof; ; these her girlish days. "And Frank Hood's violets—; I poor Frank Hood! He's so silent J and so awkward, and yet there s : | a something about him that won’t i 1 let one despise him. He cer- i I tainly is not handsome, though he has very fine eyes, and a face like one of those old marble orca ' NORCROSS, GA., WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 14, 1873. tions one sees Jn the School of Design. Well, ‘ I won’t 'throw away the Violets either, not just yet.’ Clare took the jeweled hair-pins : out of her hair, and laid aside the white tarlatan dress and wreaths of blue blossom, and went com posed ly to bed. ’ For why shcald she lie awake and lose the fresh roses ol her complexion, iahd dim the sparkle of those glorfous violet eyes, thinking about the respective claims of the various lovers who hovered, molh-like, about thd I torch-light of her charms? There was time enough to make up her mind. Why, she was not yet nineteen,; and life was so-’full of bloom and freshness for het. Clare knew that the autumn must come soon er or later, but she meant to have a good time first. Sensible Clare! So, in the very middle of the season, when balls, operas, and masquerades were at their height, 1 and when old Aunt Dolmayne wrote a piteous letter up to her brother in town, setting forth that 1 ‘she had the rheumatism dreadful bad, and there wasn't any help to be had, and she was that lonesome that she couldn’t stand it no long er, and wouldn’t one of her three, , nieces come down and stay With her fora short time?’ Clare as tonished the family circle by vol unteering to go. ‘My dear/ said her mother, ‘you don’t know what you are under taking. Lt is a common farm- 1 hous<e.’ f ‘And AWmtha Ann is full of whims/ said her father, rubbing his nose. But I suppose she is poor and lonely.’ ‘Well, but/ said Clare, ‘Miriam is busy with her music lessons and her German class, and Laura belongs to those sociables; 1 seem to be the only one disengaged. Besides, I’m tired of balls and dances and twelve o'clock sup pers, I should like to try the other extreme just for fun.’ ‘You'll find it anytiijjig biU fun/, said her mother, putting Jiergold stoppered casolette to her aristo cratic nose. at any Y*jfe, I mean to try/ said Vilare. ‘Fo papa, you may write to Aunt Dahnayne that I am coming.’ The scene looked indescribably beautiful to Clare Wintringham, that frosty December eve, as the jolting old chaise, with a sleepy old horse trotting in front, turned into the valley road, coUld see the ancient farm house*, steep*" roofed, and brown with a half cen tury of suns and rains, with the elm boughs wrestling overhead in the gale, and the wooded hills rising upon every side, while one ruddy beam of light glowed from the tiny windows under the eaves, casting, as it might be, a javeliq of bright athwart the road in front; of the door. 1 ‘I think she's expectin’ you/ said the rough charioteer who had been sent to Ihe station to meet Mrs. Dalmayne’s niece, ‘but I'm afeard you will find it very lone some.’ ‘Oh,’ cried Clare-, gleefully, as she sprung out of the vehicle, ‘I think it’s splendid!’ She enterad the low roofed kitchen, all aglow with the roar ing fire of logs on the hearth, and futher illuminated by two tallow candles in bright brass candle sticks. Aunt Dahnayne had evidently bestirred herself, for the table was spread with hot biscuits, baked apples, custards and pre j serves, and the old lady herself ; hobbled forward on a crutch to j welcome her. "Why, my dear/ cried Aunt Dahnayne, stepping back to take | a second survey, ‘you’re as pretty J as a picterF : ‘Am I?' said Clare, coloring and | I laughing. ‘But aunty, what a gio- j ! nous lire you’ve gob and what a | darling old urn, and how nice that I j tea does smell.' ‘Sit down and have a cup, my ] deir/ said her aunt, highly flat- i ■ tered. ; Before Clare Wintringham slept i , that night, she had taken Mrs.; ; Dalmayne’s heart fairly by storm. ■ She had been an inmate of the i ’ old fashioned farm house for about a Week, wiien one of those grand } ■ snow storms came on which veil , | the whole country side in spotless I white, and hang the Woods to j royal robes of ermine. ; Aunt Dalmayne’s rheumatism , grew worse, and she kept her room; but Clare went about as light-hearted as ever, doing the ‘ whole work of the house, with such assistance as Moses, the handy man, was able to render her. The snow had fallen all day, blown into drifts by the wind that ■ howled through the clefts of the hills, and at last twilight deepen- j ed over the stormy earth. Clare was sitting thoughtfully: before the firelight, peeling ap ples for a pudding which was dear Io Aunt Dalmayne’s soul, when 1 Moses came in. ‘Miss Clare/ sale, he, ‘there’s two gentlemen got storm bound- ■ outside; they’ve missed the way, their horses ate clean tired out; and they wanted to know if we'd i give ’em a night's shelter. I told 'em Mrs. Dahnayne was ill, and 1 wasn't master, but I'd ask the .young woman—Miss Clare.’ Clare winced a little, then laughed outright at Moses’ unpol ished language. ‘Of course they Play tome in/, 1 she said, ‘I wouldn’t even turn a I dog from the door on such a night as this!’ She threw a fresh log on the, lire, and lighted thecah-dle as she . spoke. But what Was her abatement, on turning to welcmhe the stran gers, to behold in them no stran gers at all*, but Mr. Harry Geliette and his friend Frank Hood! Powdered liberally with snow, ! their noses reddened by the wind, their features rendered.unnatural ly rigid by cold, they stood blank ly regarding her; but Clare came forward with the grace of a young duchess. ‘Good evening, gentlemen, Pray come a little nearer the fire. I hardly supposed that in the storm-bound strangers who sought shelter here, I was to welcome old acquaintances.’ ‘Oh, Miss Wintrin^nAm —ex- ceedingly glad to see you, I’m sure!’ stammered Mr. Geliette, awkwardly allowing his frog-like hand to touch her own. "But what can you be doing in such a place as this?’ ‘Didn't tell you?’ she asked, housework here.’ ‘Miss—Wintringhamf ‘Well, why net?’ Mr. Geliette had no reply ready; he only rubbed his hands, smiled feebly, and advanced toward the red blaze; while Xlr. Hood was exchanging in turn his greeting with the former heiress. ‘lt is a surprise, Miss Wintring ham, to see you here/ he 5-aid frankly, ‘but a very agreeable one.’ Clare wondered in her heart what new mood of gallantry had taken away all Frank flood’s awkwardness. ‘lt is as good as a tableau/ she thought gleefully, when Hood had explained to her that Unex pected business had taken them Across the country in the dead of winter, thus bringing about so entirely an unanticipatc<l meet ing, and she v,enl into (he othei kitchen to get cream for the table. As she stood there skiming oil the gold accumulation which fol lowed her spoon in thick folds, she heard Gel lotto's voice speak ing-. ‘Of codrae the father has fa Jed and they’ve lost everything. A great pity; for with that face she might have married well.’ ‘What is to prevent her from marrying well now?’ Flank Hood's slow, deliberate tones an 3 we red. •My dear fellow, we must look mil for the main chance. Jn fact, I was once a little smitten myself, but of course it's quite out of the question now, Mr. Hoed did nnt reply; and Clare, as she stood there, with burning cheeks, was glad that he did not. Bur when she came back to preside at the tea-table, she was is compost] as ever, save that her color was a trifle deep than usual. The storm continued in ilnaba- ; ted violence for two days, during j which time Mr. Geliette yawned . over the week-old newspapers, 1 smoked his cigar beside the fire.! and systematically ignored Miss Wintringham's presence. ‘A fellow musn't let himself• get entangled/ was his mental • reflection. Frank Hood,however, reasoned otherwise. He hauuted Clare's ’ VOL. 1.--NO. 28. • footstep with lover-like persisten : c\; he helped her clean the-win- ; dows, wiped the dishes, and even 1 essayed to sweep the floors, there !’ by creating great confusion. And ■ Clare, though she declared he was more of a hindrance than help, , seemed to like ik On the third day the weather cleared gloriously, and Moses brought round the stranger’s horses. ‘Come, Hood!’ said Geliette, im patiently; ‘are you going to stand there all day, making adieus? 1 ‘Be off as quick =as you like/ ; said Hood. ‘I am not going.’ ‘Not going! But business— ’ ■ ‘Hang business’’ was the unac countable reply. 'What do I care for business? Miss Wintringham 1 has promised to be my wife, and my business is here just now.’ | Mr. Geliette fluttered a few ; incoherent congratulations, and ! rode away, ejaculating beneath his breath: "I never saw such a fool in all my life!’ ! When Harry Geliette was gone, Clare told Frank the whole truth.- At first he was half inclined to ; be veked. ; ‘I didn't Want an heiress/ said he, biting his lips. ‘But you want me, Frank, don’t , you?’ seid Clare, with the prettiest coaxing way in the world. ‘Of course I do!’ said Frank. , "But darling, I had such a bright 1 dream Us leVe in a cottage.’ ‘And it shall all come true, in spite of the five hundred a year/ said Clare. The tWo.ybYtng lovers travelled back to London, as soon as Moses Beckham's sister could be induc ed to come and take Clare’s place in Aunt Dalmayne’s household. What-Harry Gellette’s feelings were when he learned the true state of the case, we leave the imaginative readers to con jecture, for the best of tacticians may out general himself at times. » True Worth. —A really modest and meritorious person will not make pretentions of any kind. His manner and expressions will always have a tendency to un derrate his real ability, not because he will pretend to be less capable than he really is-, hut bo many men have become pret'en iions in their manners and expres sions he fears he may be consid ered as such. We are in conse pience, too apt to consider the extent and capacity of 1 hose whom we meet a lit lie below the .stand aid indicated by the acts and ex pressions. Therefore, true inerit is seldom properly appreciated, and its cultivation is never great ly encouraged, mi the contrary, pretence is almost always succes - ful. He Who is pretentious affects the interest of society in a similar manner as the swindler. He in duces men to doubt the capacity of others, and often to refuse aid and employment, because they measure the merits of all by those of the preleu.ious fop and conceit ed ignorance. Many an honest 1 and skillful and many a val- j liable improvement, has been re !ii ed support and adoption be cause the pretentious, swindler lias previoilidy rtlislvil the people and imposed upon them outrage ously. Pretentions of every kind ire true indications of a weak mind or a would be swindler. Memory of the Dead.—lt is an exquisite and beautiful thing in our nature, that When the heart is touched and softened by some tranquil happiness of affectionate feeling, the memory of the dead comes over it most irresistibly. It would seem that our better! thoughts and sympathies were i charms, by virtue of which the soul is enabled to hold some vague and mysterious intercourse with the spirits of those whom we dearly loved in life. Alas, how often and long may the patient angels hover above us, waiting for the spell that is so seldom ut ; tered, and so soon forgotten. ‘One god turn deserves another.' j Very true; but hoW often do we ; forget this truth, and, however i much the good turns we may have | received are deserving of others' • from us, forget or neglect to be-! ’ stow them. But manifesting oui ' ' gratitude for favors bestowed up : on us is the only way to show that , we have any. j Early responsibility is almost e juivalent to early sobriety. If a stick of timber, standing upright, wavers, lay a beam oh it, and put a weight on that, and see how stiff' the stick becomes. And if young men waver and vacillate, put re sponsibility on tiiem, and how it : straightens them up! what power - it gives them! how it holds all that is bad in them in restraint | 1 how quietly it develops and puts - forward all that is good in them! I. ’ Every gos 4 man i« not born ’ with the gift of public speech. There are deep-minded, devout and earnest Christians who can ’ do everything else better than ’’ address a mixed assemblage ' They are constitutionally timid and slow-tongued—there is pure 1 gold Within them, but they can ( not coin it readily into current words. Two persons who have chosen each out of all the Species, with a design to be each other’s mutual comfort and entertainment, have, j in that action, bound themselves ' to be good-humored, affable, dis creet, forgiving, patient, and joy ful, with respect to each other’s 1 Irailties and perfections, to the 1 end of teir lives.— Addison. A scHogLbov's composition on tobacco; "This noxious weed was : invented by a distinguished man named Walter Raleigh. When the people first saw him smoking they thought he Was a steamboat, and as they had never hbard of such a thing as a steamboat, they were frigetened.’ There is no sort of wrong deed of which a man Van bear the pun ishment alone you can't isolate yourself, and say that the evil which is in you shall not spread* Men’s lives, are as thoroughly blended with each other as the air they breathe; evil spreads as necessarily as disease. One may live a conquerer, or a king,.or a magistrate, but. he must a man. The bed of death brings every human being to his pure individuality to the intense con templation of that, deepest and most solemn of relations, the re lations between the creature and the creator. The most insignificant people are the most apt to sneer at others. They are safe from reprisals, and have no hope of rising in theii* own esteem but by lowering their i neighbors. The severest critics are always those who have failed in original composition. Satire is a sort of glass, where in beholders generally discover everybody’s face but their own, which is the chief reason for tba’t kind of reception it meets in the world, ibid that so very few WO offended with it.-- Wisdom does not scow iteiflf srt much in precept as hl lite-—in a firmness of mind and mastery of appetite. It teaches us to do, as well as to talk, and to make our words uid actions all of a cblor.— Senaca. Braise has different effects, nc • cording to the mind it meets witln !It makes a wise man modest,but, a ! fool more arrogant, turning his weak brain giddy.-*AW/Zurn. Beware of him that is slow*to anger; anger, when it is long in coming, is the stronger when it comes and the longer kept. Abus ed patience turns to fury. Read, not to contradict and con fute, nor to believe and take tor granted, nor to find talk and dis* course, but to weigh and consid er.—Baton. pRtDENcK is that virtue by | which we discern what is propel 4 i to be done under the various cir cumstances of time and place.— I Milton. The discovery of what is true, and the practice of that which is good, are the two most important objects of philosophy.— Voltaire. The most delicate, the most sen sible of all pleasures, consists in promoiingthe pleasures of others. ! —La Bruy re. Virtue though in rags may chal -1 lege more than vice set off with 1 all the trim of greatness. There are few, very few. that ■ aiII own them elves in a mistake. Sicift.