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