Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

A. 0. MOTLEAT, VOLUME X. THE AMERICAN UNION, Publirtied every Saturday Morning, Bf • • • Jk—'&em 3MC J-ark-H-A-Tr. owe* ON BROAD STBKBT, WEST END TUE SEW BRICK ffTAIttS. ■'v TERMS: 7-W1 DrX.tr, in anrnnct.or TV* Dollar, after nx month,. So subvert ptiou* taken for less than one year, unless paid in advance; and no paper discontinued (unless at U* option of the Publisher) until alt arrearages are paid. hDPEirnSEMEN’T.S conspicuously inserted at One Dollar per square ot twelve lines, for the first insertion, and Fifty Cents lor each subsequent continuance. JU Adeerlitemcnl, ant accompanied bv it Recife notice of the number of uwertioa, de*ired, trill be continued until ordu ed out, and chargedfor accordingly. Sheriff's Sales under regular executions, and mortgage n fas, oa real estate, must be published 80 days $2.50 Personal Property, uuder mortgage fl fas, must bo published fV) days 5.00 Citation for Letters of Administration, 80 days.... 2.75 Tax Collector’s Sales, 60 days 5.00 Mctiees to Debtors and Creditors, 40 days 3 00 Sales of personal property of Estates, 10 days 3.00 Sales of Land or Negroes, “ 40 days 4.50 Apalieatisns for leave to sell lands or negroes, must be published weekly for 2 months 5.00 Notices fur Letters Disinissoryby Executorsor Ad ministrators, monthly for 0 months 4.50 By Guardians, weekly for 40 days 4.50 hstrsjs, 2 weeks 1.50 Announeing Candidates (to be paid in adeanee) 5.00 Orders ol Courts of Ordiuaty to make titles to land, ac companied by a copy of the bond or agreemeut, must be published three months. MISCELLANEOUS. From the American Freemason. MASONRY. BY W. C. CAI'ERS. [Our readers will sliaro our pleasure nt the perusal of these vigorous and beautiful lines.—Ed. Aui.Fr.] Three thousand years have rolled away Upon the tide of time, .Since Masonry began her march Os noble deeds sublime. And tbo’ the angry storms of war Have swept the earth with fire ; Her temple stands unscathed, unhurt, With sought on its spire. 05 J Empire*, long the praise of men, . . . Have faded from the earth ; hfngs, with their thrones, have passed away, ."since .Masonry had birth. The sceptred monarch in bis pride, lias long since mot his doom ; And nought is left of bis domains, But solitude and gloom. Proud Egypt, with her wondrous arts — iler mysteries of old, lias slept beneath the tide of time. As swift his current rolled. Ami Greece, with all her ancient wealth i if getiiusutid of fame, h-earve holds ainid the nations now, The honor of a name. The glittering towers of Troy, to which The.foes of Priain ramr, To meet a welcome for their deeds F oin lips of Spartan fame : Have long siuce toppled from their base. And maiihLred to decay ; The glory of that mighty race, With them has parsed away. Aiaid the ravages that swept , The Cities of the plain— ’.Mid ‘'rumbling of im|>erial thrones — Too full ot tower and sane ; Fair .Masonry has still survived The nations’ horrid doom ; A ntcja ’mid the night of years, To gild the elouiis of gloom. • Thro’ every age, sum bigotry H ss sought to crush her form ; But. unsubdued,she bravely met The tempest and the storm. The elouds of perseeution fled Before her steady ray, As shades of deepest night before The orient orb of day. From oriental dimes she home, To bless this Western World; And rM her tempi* ’neoth the flag That, Liberty unfurled. Fair Freedom welcomed to our shores This staid of heavenly birth ; While thousands of our bumble poor Now own her generous worth. Ten thousand widows in tlieir weeds Hare blest her advent here ; And many a homeless orphan’s heurt .- I ias owned her tender care. Full many a frail and erring sou, To oiseipation given. Has heard her warning voice, ar.d turned Uis wayward thoughts to Heaven. Long may her beauteous temple stand, To light this darken’d sphere; To gild (he gloom of error’s night, And drr the falling toar. And when the final wiuds of time Shall sweep this reeling ball, Oh, may its glittering spires be The last on earth to full! Mobile, Ala. There art bo Tear* in Heaven. Mr JOKE TANARUS, SWARTZ. I met a child ; Us fast were bare ; His weak frame skivered with the eeld ; His youthful brow was kait by ea re, His flashing eye hi* sorrow told. 1 Said I, “Poor bay, wbjr weepest thou 1” “My parents both are deed,’* he said ; V- - “l hare not where today ley bead ; _ H, lam lone and friendless now I” Not friendless, child ; a Friend on high, tor fan Ufa precious blood has given ; ( tl ev *p ahd Ctteaeh tear be dry— •“ There are notsan in heaven I taw* man In ■ ‘ _ Stand weeping o’er hisybong bride's bier ; “And must ere parks'* ha erWf'lo soon f At dowa his check there rol&U tear “Heart-stricken one,” not * “Weep hot rtiiirorenu wildWoiM. “ B “‘ S*2**s*y my fared one dfad7 >“ w ***• *•*••••frrgot v „ nven “ _ row cornfield. Along the farther edge of the field ran a rivulet. The road passed by the court-house through the belt of forest, and across the centre of the cornfield, and finallly lost it self in the woods beyond, from which the enemy were to emerge. On the morning of the 16th ! of March, 1781, the drums beat their reveille early, and Greene drew up his men in thre lines on this secluded spot, which before night was to be strewed with the dead. Along the edge of the piece of wood, behind the fence and facing the cornfield, ho placed the North Caro lina militia. In the wood, about fifty rods in the rear, he stationed the Virginia militia, un der Stevens and Lawson; both of these lines extended across the road. Four hnndred yards behind these, on the hill around the court-house, were ranged the brave conti nentials, commanded by Green in person. Two roads leading away from the court-house, in the rear, furnished a secure retreat. Thus strongly posted,with Lee’s legion and some in fantry covering the left flank, and Washington’s heavy mounted dragoons on the right, he await ed the approach of the enemy. “It was a clear, bright day as ever blessed the earth ; the bracing air just stirred the tree-tops over the soldiers’ heads, and all was beautiful and spring like. Early in the forenoon scouts returned with the news that the British weroad vancing, and that gallant, army stood to arms and looted long and eagerly down the road along which they were to come. Noon came and still the forest was silent and slumberous... But at length, about one o’clock, strains of martial music were heard in thedistance, struggling up from the tree-tops, and soon the sharp rattle of the drum, and the shrill tones of the fife and horn broke with startling distinctness on the ear, and then the head of the column began slowly to emerge into view. Two pieces of artillery un der Singleton had been advanced along the road, and now opened upon the approaching inass. Cornwallis immediately brought forward his artillery, and a fierce cannonade commenced. Under cover of the smoke of his guns, he push ed his columns aeros; the brook into the cornfield, where deploying rapidly to the right and left, they termed in order of battle. Rely ing on the discipline of his troops, he formed them into a single line, without any reserve, re solved by one terrible onset, to sweep the field. The Carolina militia looked in terror over the field before them, red with the scarlet uniforms. The steady tread of the advancing batallions, the long lines of light made by the glittering bayonet* over their beads, the banners floating in the breeze, and the loud strains of martial music, drowned ever and anon by the roar of cannon, conspired to render it a scene that might awe even more veteran hearts. ’ “On, on they came, with the terrible front of battle, unchecked by the distant random shots <->f some of the militia, until they approached within a few rods, when they halted, and at the word of command poured iu a simultaneous vol ley—the* throwing their bayonets forward, rush ed, with loud shouts, to tne charge. The poor militia frightened half out of their senses, by this sudden and awful onset, forgot, many of them, to fire at all, and dropping their guns, knap sacks, canteens, and everything, took to their heels like a flock of sheep. Greene had not cal culated on their firing more than four or five rounds ; but this was dastardly. Their officers strove bravely to rally them, seizing those near est with their hands, entreating and threatening by turns, while Lee spurred amongthein with his drawn sabre, swearing he would ride them down with his terrible legion if they did not halt. It was all in vain, utter terror had seized them ; and they swarmed in affright through the woods back to the second line. The Virginians un touched by the pauic, taunted them as they fled through, and rali<-d ou them as cowards and poltroons ; then bravely turned to meet the shock. Stevens had taken care his militia should not serve him as they did at. Camden, and posted forty riflemen in the rear, with orders to shoot down the first man who attempted to run. • “The British elated by their success, sent up a loud huzza, and pressed furiously forward up on the second line. In a moment the woods were red with the scarlet uniforms as they swept in one broad wave, up to the Virginians ; but a deadly volley received them, aud huge gaps open ed in their files. Unable to stand the galling fire, they spjang forward with the bayonet, and with levelled piece* and steady front, moved against the undisciplined militia-—but not a rank brolce, not a batallion fled. Opposing steel to steel, and in the intervals pouring in their rapid vol leys, they held for • long time, the whole Brit ish army in qfieck. At length however forced back by superior number*, the right wiag still hanging together, swung slowly round, on the aßutaeus on m pivot, ontjl it reached the road then broke and fled Thu deft wing, in the woods, Ott the opposite side of the road, still main taioed the combat. Greene, now seeing that the battle wg§lo he thrown upon him—as that part of the British array opposed to the routed right wing, following up their victory emerged into view—rode along the lines, telling the sol- i § . .. “Prove all thing*; hold fast that which is good.” GRIFFIN, GEORGIA, SATURDAY MORNING, MAY 5, 1855. with such fury that they shivered it in pieces at one fell blow ; and then without taking any time to breathe, rushed on the others. The con flict hero became dreadful. That brave regi ment disdaing to fly, bore up against the over ! whelming numbers that increased as it advanc ed, and was still maintaining its ground, when Washingloii seeing how hard beset it was, order ed the bugles to sound, and the next moment the ground shook under the steady gallop of his squadron, as with shaking sahresand loud shouts they burst ou tho enemy. Iu vain did those veterians close up their ranks to meet the shock, and surround themselves with a gir dle of steel—in vain did their officers shout: “Be steady and firm over and through everything went the fierce riders, trampling them down like grass. Stuart, who led them on, strove manfully locally them to the charge, and as he moved about in the tumult, came up on C'apt Smith of those glorious Marylanders, and sprang fiercely upon him. The latter par rying the Englishman's small sword with his left baud brought down his heavy sabre on his head w ith such force that he cleaved him to the spine. The next moment stunned by a mus ket-bail, though not killed, he fell on his antag onist. Scarcely had he touched the body, before the soldier who had fired the shot also fell across him. Nothing could now stay the excited’ Americans; Washington’s cavalry plunged amid the disordered guards, striking them down with their sabres at every step. The battle seemed won ; and Cornwallis who saw tho route of his guards spurred towards them. Washington be holding him, pointed forward with his sword, and shouted to his men to follow. Press ing close after him, they dashed onward, aud the great prize was almost within their grasp, when Washington’s cap falling from his head, he dismounted to pick it up. At the same moment the officer at the Jiead of the column shot through the body, reeled in Iris saddle; while his horse, now unmanageable, turned and carried him off the field. The squadron seeing one leader down and the other riding away, thought a retreat had been sounded, and wheeled after the latter. In a moment, howev er, Washington caine galloping up and with a loud voice, arrested their retreat, aud again led” them to the charge. But Cornwallis had retired, and Washington again fell upon the guards, break ing to pieces every formation, and riding down ev ery incipient square. The British commander saw at a glance that this route of the guards must be arrested or the whole army ruined ; and hast ening to his artillery-that crowned a slight em inence, he ordered it to open on the driving mass. ‘Stop’ said one of the leaders of that broken baud, who had been horn back dread fully wounded from ilie tight, you will de stroy your own men.’ ‘We must do iff replied Corn wain ii, To save ourselves from destruction.’ Tho flying guards were now mingled up with tlieir pursuers, so complete ly, that every shot aimed at the latter would strike them also. But stern necessity required the sacrifice and the next moment the artillery opened like a clap of thunder, and the heavy shot went leaving through the bleeding guards with frightful effect. The wounded officer turn ed away sick from the murderous spectacle, hut Cornwallis gazed sternly on the slaughter, and still kept up that heavy fire, till half the lion was stretched on the field. This checked the pursuers who were compelled to retreat but not the battle. Volleys of musketry interrupt ed by explosions of artillery, kept the atmos phere in an uproar ; while charging cavalry, and shouting infantry—firm-set columns, and broken ranks—horse* galloping riderless over the plain, and heaps of dead combined to make that lonely spot, and that bright afternoon, a scene and time of thrilling interest aud terror. “No sooner had Cornwallis cleared the field with his artillery than the routed troops began to rally—some behind ravines, and some in the woods ; while those regiments yet unbroken were moved forward. In the woods, on the left, Lee and Campbell still maintained the fight, and had done so from the onset, sternly refusing to yield one inch of ground. They and their foes were both out o’ sight, but the incessant and fierce discharges that rung through the forest, and the Yvounded officers and men borne constantly back, told how close and dreadful was tho strug gle. But no news came from Lee. The gallant chieftain was straiuing every nerve to hold Ilia position, ignorant of what had befallen the olhei portions of the army. Greene, iu the meantime could not advance with his few unbroken regi ments on the whole British force, protected as it was by cannon, without risking all on one haz ardous throw. But this was the game for Corn wallis to play, not for him; it was victory or twin with the fotmer, and at length, by incredi ble effort*, he succeeded in forming his line of battle anew, and again steadily advanced. Dis cipline had restored to him 11-Ih anwotmded men ; while Greene atnrejed, with an anxious eye, the few regiments on which alone he could rely. Though burning to renew the conflict, be dared not again trust his-militia, who had been broken at the ousefcro he (*faredu retmet while it could be aafriy-ydw, drawee badnemfofloc arms and the incessant vollie* froth the wood* ta toWric j fttwHpd T hut the brave Virginian* wH composed It received them with such* firm fronf that they soon gave Mflllllafl tbe anay retired throe mite, and fraHad. W', {%£ _ bright aprrag down I Weeding patriots ‘Continued to. ; pre*s libfirarii with s|}e Moan- march. Many a noble heart lay cold and still on the field where they had struggled—here you could sec the track of Washington’s cavalry by the ghastly sabre-trokes that disfigured the dead ; and there by the heaps of slain, where the gallant Maryland regiment, after it bad bro ken to pieces one a third larger than its own, met the guards in full career. Around the court house the ground was red with blood, and Ainer- ] ieans and Britons lay almost in each other's em brace. But amid the piles of slain there were two scarlet uniforms to one of the continentals.— Our unerring marksmen had made terrible havoc, and one quarter* of Cornwallis's army had fallen on the field he had won. No wonder Fox sitid on the floor of tile House of Commons, when the victory was announced : *Another such a victory will ruin the British army.’ *6ix hundred killed and wounded. Tljp Learned Oddity. The Baltimore correspondent of the New Or leans Picayune the following brief sketch : of a very singular and eccentric personage whom lie met a few evenings since : “Uis name is Ilenry Ottomer. He was born some fifty two years ago in Somerset county, Pennsylvania, of German parentage. He came to Baltimore when a hoy, and server! an appren ticeship to a watchmaker. Working in this city until beyond his majority, he got sick of city life and retired to the country. Haviuga taste for study, and with only a rude education, he ap plied himself to books. The taste for literature and science grew upon him, and ever since he has lieen a laborious student Solitary and alone he toiled day and night, until he accomplished a thorough knowledge of Latin, Greek, French, Spanish, Ilebre , German and several other lan guages. This done he (retook himself to history, the sciences <fcc., and now ranks amongst the best scholars of the age. His present favorite study is mathematics, and admits of but two problems which have given him pause —these are squaring the circle and the solution of cubic equations. — He is an astronomer, philosopher, chemist, poet, mechanic, mathematician, and somewhat of a theologian. In my whole life I have never seen such a singular personage. He lives in a small insolated cottage apart from society. Peter the Hermit was not so thorough a recluse, nor Dio genes more learned. He rather eschews wom en, lives a bachelor, lias a fine library of the clas sics and modern literature, and is happy beyond measure. His expression to me was that he woul 1 not exchange positions with the most favorite crown ed heads of Europe, He professes no religion, but respects all and takes the Bible- alone as bis guide aiijr tnndard of morality. His personal appearance is remarkably singu lar. Scarcely a hair can be seen on his head, which shines like a greased pumpkin. Beneath a high intellectual forehead and a projecting brow, is seen a small, quick, penetrating black eye, full of character and intelligence. He never shaves, line a fine moustache andample whiskers with a face vivid in expression. His entire cos tume would not sell for ten dimes, if put up at public auction. A passer by would suppose him a poor mendicant and be inclined to extend the hand of charity; and yet he is comfortable in the world’s goods—owes no man a farthing, is independent as a king, happy as a lord. Ilis food is literature and his delight the classics; is, by profession, a skillful repairer of clocks ; and after finding his funds getting low,sets out on an expedition th rough the country on a professional tour of clock mending.” New Material for Buildino.— The Cin cinnatti Gazette has been shown a “specimen brick,” made of lime and sand, which it says appears as thougli it would take the plaee of the common clay brick altogether. It is very smooth and hard. It is larger thau the common brick, with a vacant space in the centre. The Gazette further adds: s We are inforined-that the materials used in the manufacture of these bricks are simply lime and sand the proportion being about eleven parts sand to one part lime, and they can be manu factured at a less cost than our common clay, brick. The bricks can,-of course be made of any form or shape, according to lasts. It is fully equal to sand stone. The advantages are the facility with which they are manufactured ; lathing and plastering become unnecessary, and the outside and inside of tbe wall is made at the same time. The chemical opperation of tbe brick hardens them so that they are not more affected by the action of the atmosphere than stone. Ilis not affected by frost, arid experi ments which have beep tried to test its strength and and other qualities have resulted satisfacto rily. * •• - --JBiiyuinu—ffiu MaUmui IntMifeneer Sap a correspondent who produces a series of mtm* ben ou this subject: • *• .■ ’> p 1. Before you bow to a lady hi the street per-j ait her to decide wsetW -yw*tmhyirihtemtiy(| by at least a look es 2. “INcuse my glove,” ogy ; for tho withdraws to [von should do the gentleman j bows to .'1 lady in always bow to f t From the ffailul tbe South. Work for Xay. Corn Ccltvrk.— The corn crop js now hasten ing on rapidly, and should not tic checked in its growth, either by neglect or injudicious manage ment. it rarely recovers from the effects of either. We ihink that us a general rule, deep and close culture with the plow is yet admirable, and udvia able. Tho roots uro spreading and need soft and loose earth, easy of penetration, and from which supplies of food nmy be obtained. Such plows should be used, ns will most effectually accom plish this object. A little soft earth should Ire tumbled about the roots of the corn; so ns to cover all the small ”r;i*s, and afford protection against the increase of the summer heat, yet, we do not think it advisable greatly to increase the depth of earth. Com lias a wnderful felicity in send ing ont new roots to adjust themselves to the want of the plant, and its demands upon the sunshine. Wide open furrows, near the foot of tho stalk, are injurious, nor do wo think it best to hare them at all, in tho cultivation of corn. An even surface, or nearly so. is best, as tho roots run ahullow, and tiro necessarily exposed in crossing a deep open furrow. In well prepared lands, and with good culture tip to this time if tho plows now do all which they should, hut little will bo left to be done with the hoe*. But there are comparatively few plantations in auch condition ns to leave tho work perfect, without a little help from the hoc.— If wo have no trees, nor stumps, nor roots, nor rocks, yet there will be bent and tangled stalks, which would he relieved by a little attention. Tiie t ‘in.TivATioN or Cotton The cotton crop is now supposed to lie well started, and some work ul rendy done in its culture. To regulate the stand and and keep the grass is now the oldef object* of care for if the preparations have been good, the plant ianot yet needing much cultivation. A little work with the plow is however, necessary, for the two fold object of clearing and slightly stirring the earth about the roots of the crop. It is very dif ficult to say what plow shall now be used, as the condition aud character of the land must deter mine what will be best in each case. Speed, and the destruction of the crop of young grassoow up, are generally controlling considerations, with the largest and best facilities which the plow may af ford to the hoe. Great skill may he used with a suitable plow, in making the hoe work easy, and all this is needed for the keeping alean, and bring ing to a stand in good time, so many acres as is usually put in cotton. With land which is light, and has been well bedded, and is pretty free from stumps and rocks, the Mississippi Mumper is an ad mirable implement. The turning plow, with the bar next the drill, is a great favorite with the masses while with others, nothing is like the sweep, and now and then, we meet with an ‘old fogy,’ who holds to the scooter, plowing qptand out. Ae we have already intimated, our is, that no one plan shoulJ be pursued, underall circumstan ces, but should be varied, to suit the peculiarities of each case. It is now very generally agreed, that for the good of the cron, it is not necessary to do more than side the drill, in the early working of cotton. It is important, therefore that some plow should be used, which would cover and keep tbe grass in check, in the middle of the row. We, sug gest that in stiff lands, which are inclined to bake, when the turning plow is used, that the narrow ridge, on which the cotton stands after such a working, should not be left long, without having a covering of soft earth thrown hack. The wind and the sun, without such relief, dries and bakea it until the plant is soon checked in its growtt. The hoes follow and sometimes precede tbe plows reducing first to bunches, of from two to four stalks, and as soon aa possible afterwards, proceed to bring it to a stand, of one stalk in a place. This is the general method of procedure, While s few persons hold to the old notion of liringing to a stand nt the first going over. Much care is required in the use of tho hoe, that the plant now very tender, may not be bruised and skiuued, and left to dwin dle and die. In the great baste to pass over a large space, and get over soon, much damage is done in this way, causing bad stands, and tne cultiva tion of a large amount of land on which no plants are grjwing. We know of no error more com mon. or which needs to be more guarded against just nt this stage of tbe work. The dutnaee which is to be given, os we liavo so often remarked, must depend upon the character of the soil, giving to rich land great distance, while on poor land the width of the hoe is quite sufficient A slight interlock ing of the branches, when the plant is at maturity, is all that is desired. The. Sweet Potato. —In this month, mainly, must this crop be started. However well later plantings, unaer favorable circumstances, may do, our experience and observation have been decided ly favorable to early planting. The slips not on ly live better, but generally the product of the crop is greater, iaise no time therefore, in bring ing this very valuable crop forward. Let the land be very thoroughly prepared, broken deep nod well pulverized. If the hills pf drills are freshly .madu.-YetlLJittle.Jiun is neasssiiry, this early ra the season, to justify a planting, especially if tho slips are set out deop. and let* In tbo day. Nothing but the bud ought to bt left unooved. ; tot . , irii.iv ST’ , It has already that tbe ftlministra tlesi.srilPbeflnshiiiltyin tbe minority in ths next Confrere. It will b# eecn by the following table, prepared with Mph oars, that tbe nitti-slavery ag- Georgia ••’ *-• •; • and Kentucky.... A-o- *••••-aB Uririrife'. -V *eei •• • e tthfe •bf eVwwrjj^Jte MCrv*** #_•# Ntgkywpfo*• J jSfPML • ’ -• ffryr* )1 VsMUMUleeee •*£'•'Vff * • ? f- •i* - I ** # J*; * * *“” ■■fWMr-r * The foil.,wing rnmmnwt*J[ir * “f our lino, and we do not Jirnfiffiftii ‘l.tlM^fe| its drift ; but we presume the publication may interest -t— ■-^ without doing harm, ns we TrTii Wo print it. protesting, that, should ti sectarian controversy, we have no part net lot is it, and will Uo( be obliged to f^SSSuSEBS^ For the American Union, Controversy on the Heart and VMh, BETWEEN TIIE APOSTLE PAUL AXJ> A “ || Mail) .CALVINIST. , it Paul.—” This I say then, walk in tbe Spirit; aad ye shell not fulfil the lost of the Flesh. fhMhe Flesh lusteth against tbe Spirit, end tbe Spirit ngainst the Fleeli: and three are eontnriy.flp one to the other, so that ye entrant do thfflhilKg* that yc would. They that are Christ's have ere* cifiod the Flesh with the affections and }nst*” (Gal. 5.) - Hard W/.—Paul you have committed e gnat blunder. If a man's Heart is only ones nanm tsd. there ia no further trouble. The Flash wiS take care for itself; we need net ytmffjfijMljfk Flesh. Sin lies only iu the Heart, not hi thebedj. Paul. —“ Be not deceived; God is not Minted, for whatsoever a man soweth that be also reap. For he that soweth to the Fleeh dalf flf . the Flesh reap corruption; bnt he that soweth to ths Spirit, shall, oT the Spirit, reap Tifo f ihg. (Gal. 6.) Let not sin therefore reign fat the body, that ye abonld obey it in tbe iusts tbereof “ (Rom. la.) ♦ Hard Shell —lt teems to me peering stranar, that yon will inriat that if the Hzast be verted, the body een commit sin. If jmffiwieni dressing unconverted men, yoor presetting wmdi be perfectly appropriate, but you are taM(faljg f* CusisTiAira ; cautioning them Igainst letWgK false and nngoverned passions at thG bfdf their way. I tell yon there is no danger] to them about their Heart* ; and notsbeet tMr bodies. If our Heaets are only token ante 4** is enough, we are not under the fevcf4M|fl under grace. And.—-What then! Shall we rip bomma* we are not nnder the lew; but under greet! fog forbid! (Ron. 6.) Hear what my brother fktir says, • Abstain from fleshly lusta, which are against the aoul.’ (1 Peter 3 ) And evesyrwp that striveth for the mastery, is temnamt* in nH things.” (1 Cor. 9.) Hard Shell. —Nonsense, Paul! If yowifcugr ia only converted, no matter wbot yawrflsufcrißto. I never want to hear you preach any nmr* shat tbe flesh. I know it is said the Christian's thane great enemies are “The World, the Flaob, lad the Devil;’ but this U only a rhetorfodl gnnrish; the inspired Writer meant This temperance in ell things, f bate no&g§yp. this screwing ones self into * naMmQ Tdmd! TriwgfuriiiT** *** k ******* preach without bsringegood mariner sure I do not take rum now, because there- lee been so much said about it, but my tobmjgpan swers the same purpose. ’ There fc'-£& fmSßif v’ that -everybody testifies that it is good, ffby not indulge 1 Pmd.— U Bnt I keep under my body; I bring so into subjection, lest that, by nay manna, iter I have preached to others, 1, myself. Shnnld ltoto cast away. (Corf 9.) And every men that hhth this hope in him. nuriffeth himself, even as Chriri is pure. (1 John 3.) AYid what agreement hath the temple of God, with idol*! For ye afaJhe temple of the living God, as God hath (aid, Ltrill tlieir Cod, and they ahull be my people. ‘ and spirit perfecting bolinmeto thefeue^fgfcd.” *'Oh, wrrirtffilMNlw ■ J ---•’ g K'£~ me from tbe wiU sdissw w**: trn igj pp'|li|| T^TTf^ ti.is world Bat Pm*CTSJJS tboce guiltv feeling*, ‘ •**'* *$ _ - *f"l 111 •'ll fofr,: |{f > A * *il ‘ * J ‘• ; , ~*‘- r *'■ * >t , latfqtaiANNMifr ’ ■’