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, VOL. 2. * At Poe’s Grave. NOVEMBER, EIGHTEEN SEVENTY-FIVE. Oold is the paean honor brings, And chill is glory's icy breath, Vnd pale the garland memory brings To grace the iron doors of death. -Tame's echoing thunders, lona and loud. 'me pomp of pride that decks the pall, the plaudits of the vacant crowd— One word of love is worth them all. With dews of grief our tjycsaro dim ; Ah, lot the tear of sorrow start, And honor, in ourselves and him, The great and tender human heart. p 1 Through many a night of want and woo His frenzied spirit wandered wild— Till kind disastor laid him low, And Heaven roelaimed its wayward child. Through many aycar his fame has grown, Like midnighlj, vast—like, starlight, sweet, Till now his genius fills a throne, And nations marvel at its feel. Ono meed of justice long delayed, One crowning grace his virtues cravo: Ah, take thou great and injured shado, Tho love that sanctifies the grave 1 God’s mercy guard, in peaceful sleep, The sacred dust that slumbers here ; Aud while around this tomb we weep, God bless, for us, the mourner’s tear 1 Ahjl may his spirit, hovering nigh, •Jjflprce the dense cloud of darkness through, vKn know with fame that cannot die,' * And has tho world’s alfection too 1 —William Winter, EQQSSISkILAGIV* SWEET, itESTFUL HOME. A “COTTEB’b SATURDAY night” IN DANBURY. It is Saturday night—the dear close of a tossing, struggling, restless week. To-morrow is the Sabbath—when all labor and care are held in abeyance, Saturday night stands like a rock before the day of rest, and says to toil aud worry “ Thus far shalt thou come, and no fart&ef/’. Blessed Saturday night. The 'wearied fvusbaud and father ap proaches his hcmq. He looks ahead and sees the light streaming in cheerful radiance from the windows, and wonders if that boy has got. in the kindlings, lie steps up on the stoop and opens the door. His faithful wife meets him at the entrance and greets him- with: “ Why on earth don’t you clean your feet, and not lug the house full of mud ?” Don’t you know I’ve been scrubbing all day!”-- And thus he steps into the ■bosom of his family, grateful for the mercies he has received, aud thankful -that he has a home to come-to when the worry and care-arid-toil of the tveek are done. Yes, he is home pow, and has set his dinner pail on one chair-rind laid his hat aud coat on another, and with his eyes full of soap from the wash js shout ing impetuously for the towel. Saturday night in the household ! What a beau tiful sight 1 The bright light, the cheer ful figured carpet, the radiant stove, the neatly laid .table, with the steaming tea pot, the pictures op the walls, the spot less curtains, the purring cat and the bright eyed children rubbing the plates with their lingers and looking hungrily at the cannt and clu-rries. Even the wearied wife is visibly affected, anil, as she eteph to a closet with his hat and .'coot, she unconsciously observes to her ljtt band : u Will you never learn to hang up your things? or do you think I’ve got noth ing else to do but to chase after you* all the while you are in the house f” lie makes no reply, hut as he drops into,bis seat at the table, with a sigh of relic'’, he says: ,t\ ‘ “ What’s the whiter with-that.internal lamp? Is-the oil all out, or ain't, tjie chimney been cleaned? It _ don't giVo r no more light .than a firebug.” “ Turn it up, then,” she - retorts. “It T*as right enough when I put it on the table, tut I suppose' the children have been fooling with it. They never can keep their hauls out of mischief for an instant.” ■ “ I'll fool ’em he growls,” “ if- they don't keep their fingers off'n things." Alter this sally a silence reigns, broken inly by a sudden' rustle of plates and cutlery. Then comes a whisper from one of the-youths, which is promptly met in a loud k-y by the mother: “ Not another -mouthful, I tell- you. you have had one dish already, arid that's enough. 1 ain’t going to he up all nig''t -wrastling around with you, youth* woman j and the quicker you straighten that face the better it'll he for YOU.” '* : ; The offender looks with abashed iu quiry into the faces of her brothers- and sisters, and gradually steals a glance into the face Of her father; but finding *lO sympathy fhere, falls to making sur reptitious gririiaees al the mother, to (he relief of herself and the intense edi ri'jftVion of the other children. The tea is finally over, that delightful Saturday night’s meal, and as the ap peased father stretches back in Ins chair, and looks dreamily at the flame dancing ii! the stove, he says to bis first horn : i s them kindlings cut young man ?’’ , Of ( curse they have not been, and t;, e vouth replies: “Tin gbinguight out to do it now-,’ t> you’d better ; and if I come home - ain and find them kindlings not cut, 1 • .wf'eave a whole bone in your body ? Uoyuhearme? i “Yes, is. * \ (1 wjll, then, start your boots.” They are starled > nnd the relieved ! ther comes lack with nig eyes to the ~Jaj Uie,U ie, and walehts it abstractedly, while his thoughts are busy with the bright uitic'f at, ® lls of hj *““ dil y ot ii Ainiy 0 ’ 1 S 0 * 11 ® down street, or are CONYERS, GEORGIA: THURSDAY. JANUARY (3, 1876. • you going; to sot there nil night!” asks his wile, lie turns nrouud and looks at her. Il‘s a sort of mechanical move ment without any apparent expression. “There'sgot'to he something got for dinner to-morrew, and 1 want you to go to Adam's an' see it my hat is dune, an’ Thomas must have a pair of shoes an' there ain't'a bit of blacking in the house,” reau icu the mother. You can tell Burroughs that the last butter he sent up ain't fit for a hog to cat and if he ain’t got anything better than that we don't want it. You'd better get a small piece of pork while you are down, an’ if you see Parks ask him when he's coming here to fix that wall, lie has got the plaster off, and there it stands, and there's no use of trying to put tre room to rights until the wall is fixe 1. I don't see whitt the old fool is thinking of to leave a room like that.” Hereupon the head of the house gets upon his feet, takes a brief, longing glance at the j easmit slove,. ond wants to knowl where in the thunder his coat and hat are, and if nothing can be left I whore it is put. Then she tells him that ’it ne looks where he ought to he'd find the things fast enough. lie docs find them, and then , goes into the kitchen, and a momont Ja.ter appears with a very red taec, and passionately asks if a bras ket can be kept in that house for five minutes at a lime, and moodily follows his >vifc to where the basket is, and looks still more moody when he is brought face to face with it, and sarcastically asked if he could sec a barn if it was in front of his nose. Thus primed with the invigorating utterances of the home circle, lie takes up his bas ket and goes down street, leaving his faithful wife to stand as a wall of gran ite between the children and the canned cherries, and to finish up the work. As he reaches the gate the door opens and she shouts after him : “ Remember to get some matches ; there ain't one in the house; and don't he all night, for I'm tired and w r ant to get to bed at a decent hour, if possi ble." . “Go to bed, then, and shut up your mouth," and with this parting injunct ion he strides gloomily out into the darkness. It is not exactly known what ho is thinking oi as he moves along, hut it is doubtless of the near approach of the Sabbath. As he comes into,; the light of the stores it is evident that bright influences and tender memories uni glad anticipations are weaving them selves in his heart, for he meets Parks with*a smile, and after a pleasant chat about the winter's prospect, they part laughing. Only twice in the trip does his face fall, aud that's when he goes in after her hat, and when he gets the shoes. ,A half hour later he is in the grocery sitting on a barrel, while his goods are being put up, arid carrying on an ani mated discussion with the grocer and several acquaintances. At nine o'cloek .he staits for home. He has several re ceipted hills in his pocket—each of which being in excess, ot course, ot what his wife had estimated before he left home; and as he struggles along with ■an aching arm, and stumbles against various obstructions, he remem bers it is Saturday night, the cad <sf. the week of toil, and tries to recall’ bits cl verses and sentences of beautiful senti ment appropriate to the hour. lie don't believe in grumbling at everybody, and so lie reserves his trouble with the gro cery hill, his indignation at the miltitier, and the various annoyances he has been ■subjected to, until he gets home, and then lie hurls his thunder at all these people and objects through the 1 head at his wife. -. And she, the dear companion of his life, having got the children from back of the stove and to bed, by the hair, and discovered that he has forgot teu the matches, and got more bone than meat m the steak, is fully [ire pared to tell him just what he think for him. And while they talk the flame in the •stove dances happily* the lamp sheds a rich, soft glow over the room, and the colors in the carpet and the pictures and the reflective surfaces ot the mantel or naments blend into a scene of quiet beauty. It is tlie night before the Bab bath—the calm, restful Sabbath—and as the two workers prepare to seek their well-earned repose, she says that if she has got to be harrassed like this she’ll be in her grave before the winter is over, and he is confident that it the bills keep amounting up as they are doing, the wholeTatfiily will ho in the poorliouse the first thing they know. —Duribury News. Dancing on Christmas Eve. The custom of dancing on Christinas eve is very old. It would be hard to say that it began in 1012, but that is the first Christmas dance on record, and tile circumstanc. s attending it were as re markable as they are well attested. Sev eral young persons, so the story goes, were singing and dancing in a ohurch- Yard'oriChristmas eve, and their doing so disturbed Father Robert, a priest, who wai saying mass in the church. He asked them to stop, but the more he begged the more they danced. ’Buico tliey would not cease dancing, lather Robert, as the next best thing, prayed that they might dance without ceasing*, and so they did for a whole year, feeling neither heat nor cold nor hunger, nor thirst nor weariness nor decay o’f ap parel ; but the ground on which they danced, not having the same miraculous support, wore away under them until they were sunk tip to the middle. At the iead ot the year the dancing was stopped by Bishop Hubert's giving the company absolution. Kobe but coward's habitually dolor their beards. The brave dye hut once. How Poor People Lir e. Alexander tho 11. gets $8,230,000 n year, or $23,000 per day, and has the run of his entire dominion, including half of Europe and one third of Asia. Francis Joseph receives $4,000,000 annually, or $10,034 per day, with a large allowance of beer. Joe has a fam ily, and the entertainment given Prussia proved so expensive that a little retionoh meot has been found necessary, lie lias several pleasant residences in the city aud country, with out-houses, sta bles, wood-houses, etc., and is said to be Very comfortably fixed up, Frederick William is not paid quite as well as his neighbor over in Austria, but manages to keep up appearances on $3,000,000, or $7,210 per day. lie is said to suffer for want of funds, and is forced to economize. . Victor Emmanuel manages to get along, iu Italy, on $2,400,000 a year, or $0,572 per day, but this is owing to the fact that the climate being mild in his dominions, be is able to wear cotton clothes. Victoria receives only $1,250,000 a year, or $4,000 per day ; but she owns several large dairy farms, and her but ter aud milk command the highest price in the London market t besides she sup plies the first families with vegetables. she has married several of her daughters to men of fine incomes, who help hei to pay little bilb when she finds herself pressed for change. Scientific. An increase of weight is produced in silks by treatment with salts of iron and astringents, and with salts of tin and cyanides; this factitious increase of w eight may be carried to the extent of fiom one hundred to three hundred per ci n*. It cannot be too widely known that, by this adulteration, silk is ren dered inflammable, under certain oircum stances spontaneously so. If a person eats bet wen meals, the process of digestion of the food already in the stomach is arrested, until the last which has been eaten is brought into the condition of the former meal, just as it water is boiling and ice is put in, the whole ceases to boil until the ice lias been melted and brought to the pomt, aud the whole boils togeih er. We have reed so many startling ac counts of apparent death followed by burying alive, that we may not bb un wise in hearing the following in mind ; A medical gentleman of Cremona states that if a drop of ammonia be injected beneath the skin, a red spot will appear should the patient be alive; hut it death has actually taken place no such effect follows. . Otld I’fcas, Brougham, defending a rogue charged with stealing a pair of boots, unable to gainsay his client’s guilt, demurred to his conviction because the articles appro printed were half-hoots, and ha'f hoots were no more boots than a half-guinea was a guinea, or half a whole one. The objection was overruled by Lord Est grov.e, who 1 , with befitting solemnity, said : “ I am of the opinion that hoot is a nomen generale comprehending a half boot and half a hoot; the moon is al ways the moon, although sometimes she is a half moon.” Hail Brougham proved the boots to. be old ones, his man -would probably have come off as triumph antly as a tramp tried at Warwick for stealing four live fowls. The fowls had been “ rifted” in Staffordshire; still the indictment was declared good, it being held that a man committed felony in every county through which he carried stolen property; but when it Came oat in evidence that the fowls were dead when the thief was Caken, he was at once set free, on the ground that he *jould not be charged with stealing four fowls in Warwickshire. Tlic Social law of Postal Cards, While on this topie wo may ask whether postal cards have not now been long enough in uso to admit of an in quiiy as to the nature of tho courtesies and social laws that do or should per tain to them ? It may be asked whsth er people are under any obligations to respond to an Open letter of the nature of a postal card 1 Could one acknowl edge a postal errd as an “ esteemed fa vor”? If the postal card be purely on the business of the writer, what- notice must the recipient take of the fact that no stamp is inclosed for postage on the reply ? One sees some really Napoleou ic strokes ot meanness as the outcome ot trie postal card system. The audac ity is sometimes, superb;. A writer saves a sheet of paperj dll envelope; a stamp for postage, aud also the usual stamp for return postage—all by one dextrous postal card. The spirit of economy could no farther go. But really, what rigiils in courtesy have letter writers who do not consider their correspond ents ot importance enough to give their epistles to them the poor compliment of an iliojosuro? How is and communication to be entertained when the writer con fesses by a postal card that it isn’t worth a sheet of paper and a postage stamp ? That the postal card is very useful for circular notes, for announcements, for communicating any simple fact that does not call for a response, no one can deny. But we submit that social cus tom ought to establish that a missive of this ki;id calling for a response, except ing on business matters concerning the recipient, is an impertinence ; and that a postal card, partaking or tho nature of correspondence as ordinarily understood, is entitled to no respect or considera tion whatsoever. — ApiiUton's Journo 1 .. * * Hospitality. True hospitality is never loudly and noisily demonstrative. It never over whelms you with il greeting, though you have not a doubt of its perfect sin cerity. Yo are tint disturbed by live creaking ot tho .domestic machinery, suddenly driven nl unwonted speed for your accommodation. Quietly it does its work, that it may put you in peacea ble possession of its results. Ho is not the tnio host, she is not the best hostess, who is tvor going to and fro will? har ried action, and f? itried m.iiiuor, and heate 1 eountonanoo, as if to say, “ See how, hospitable I can bo i’’ but rather the one who takes your coming with quiet diguity and noiseless pains-taking; who never obtrudes attention, yet is very attentive all tho while ; who ma fees you, in ono word—-tho most exprewive word in tho English tongue—to bo at home. There is no richer, deepei, lar ger hospitality than that. —i -a. Tlio Way Scamlal Goes. A wise man gave his friend this ad vice : “ If you lake a house in a terrace a little way out of town, bo caretul to select the centre one—because a story never loses by the telling ; and if you live in the middle house, the tales which might he circulated to your prejuoico will only have half tho distance to travel that they would if you lived at either extreme, and so yon will have twice as good a character as those residing at either end. The following fact will prove tho wisdom of my advice: ‘The servant at No, 1 told the servant at No. 2 that her master expected his old friends—the Baileys—to pay him a vis it shortly; No. 2 told No. 3 that No. 1 expected to have the bailiffs in his house every day; No. 3 tofii No. 4 that it was all up with No. 1, for they could not keep the bailiffs out; and No. 4 told No. 5 that the officers were after No. I, and that it was as much as lie could do to prevent the levy ot an execution in his house, and that it was nearly killing his poor dear wife 1 And so it went on increasing until it got to No. 32, who c mfidentially assured No. 33 that the Bow street officers had taken up the gentleman at No. 1, for killing his poor dear wife with arsenic, and that it was confidently hoped and expected that lie would be executed. v— J —English Paper. The Present Conti'tioii of the South. In many things the South is making rapid advancement, and her condition is being very much improved. Her man tactures in all branches have been large ly From 28,087 in 1850, they, have grmVn to 31,370 in 1860, anil 58,195 in 1870. SRe is fast working up her raw materials into fabrics, and when this is universally done her towns will become hives of industry. Her iron in dustries are receiving greater attention, and many hands are employed by them. Her railroads, which in 1850 but 1,27 G miles, were increased to 9,182 miles in 1860, and to 12,468 in 18tW since when many additional miles hav™ been added. The crops of all kinds are increasing year by year. In 1850 she raised 2,233,718 hales of cotton, which were increased in 1860 to 4,861,- 292 bales. The war then burst upon her, from the effects of which she is now recovering; and in 1870 the cotton crop amounted to 3,011,1}t>9 hubs; in 1873 to 3,850,000 hales. In other crops she is doing equally as well. The sugar crop, which, in 1873 was but 70,000 hogsheads, in H 75 is estimated at nearly 125,000 hogsheads. So with molasses, which is equally encouraging. These are important and well attested facts, showing the greatness of her re sources, and the vigor of her people. The number of hanks in the South was 215 in 1873, with a capital of $46,392,- 500, and a circulation of $36,895,704. This fact shows more clearly the pros perous condition than aught else, in her requiring so large a capital lor transact ing her business aud carrying on her in dustries. Gladstone. , Among tlve many carious stories told of Mr. Gladstone, the following is the latest and most characteristic: About a fortnight ago lie went to a second hand book-seller and bargained for the sale of his whole library* which was cleared ac cordingly, including -hooks one would think nobody in his senses would dream of ; parting with —presentation copies, dedication copies, copies filled with Iris own manuscript notes, (Maguire’s “Irish in America” notably so), and all the copies containing his own [dates. The day alter, down rushes his relitlive, Lord and says he must buy tip all the books sold by Mr; Gladstone. Wonderful to tell, in an dge so yordid, and one of the craftiest .of all crafts in buying in the cheapest and selling in the dearest of maikjls. the bookseller made nothing of his rare opportunity, but sold hack again at the smallest trade commission. Lord Palmerston used to say that Mr. Gladstone would ‘die either in a Roman Catholic Monastery or in a mad house. At the recent sale of his china, a bidder objected that one of the vases was cracked: “ And so is the owner,” said a bystander. A Bat, Statu.— The medical faculty of Augusta, Ga., is engagid in amputat ing a negro of foity years from a mass ot tumors. One of these is* twenty tqven inches by twenty live, and so 1 heavy that, the pwuer had to carry it in a j ding; besides this,.there arc some three I hir'dred other o its ot smaller di linen-ions, varyi.ig in size from that of i a pigeon's to it lieu’s egg. “ Aii Obstructionist.” A man who Ims money and won’t pay his debts because “times are so hind %n money so tight,” is a terrible ob struclionist, and stands ns much in lib own way as in that of the oommunily. When the stream of currency is low, that is the very time to clear out all obstructions and let it flow as rapidly as possible. By this means it will bo made to do double duly and go that much forthvi' to tips general relief—and if pos sible to he more prompt than ever ; ’for. after all, no groat amount of money i>• needed if vve keep it moving, IVftn particularly, when they have a great deal duo them, should be the very last to hoard in.light times, for if they do hoard, they are throwing the whole weight of their action and example against prompt and rapid payments, on which all their own personal interests are dependent, , Their best hopoa hang on the idea that other people will not be as short-sighed and selfish i.s they are, but pay out freely, like gentlemen. And here is another idea willed*,ought to be laid to heart and put iu practice in so-called “light times.” Sustain the credit of your fellow-citizens as lar as possible. Don’t lend itching and greedy ears to rumors affecting the oo.rtniereial standing of others. Discourage such gossip, which in nine cases out ol ten is groundless. I’ut the best face oil mat ters, and keep tip your own courage as well as that ot your neighbor’s. Ke meraber, that apprehension is almost always worse tha’n reality. Rumor is seldom justified by fact ; and tho very essence of tight times is mental depress ion. That is the real malady to be com batted, This is tho sling in tho ser pent's tail, and the men ol hope, cour age and fortitude are tho only men, at Mich limes, who are not busy iu aggn valing the public disorders, —ifacun Telegraph Sf Messenger. A Few Words tri Girls. A pastor of a chwoli ia one tf our large cities said to me not long ago : “ I have officiated at forty weddings since I came here, and in every case, save one, I felt that the bride was running an awful risk.” Young men of bad habits and last tendencies never marry a girl of their own sort, hut demand a wile ahoveajuspicion. So pure, swoot women, kept from the touch of evil through girlhood, give themselves with all their costly dower of womanhood, into the keeping of mpn who, in base association, have learned to undervalue all that he 'ongs to them, and then find no repen tance in the sail after years. There is but one way out of, this that I can see, and that is for to requiie in associations and marriage, purity for purity, sobriety for sobriety, aud honor for honor. There is no reason why the young men of this Christian land should not he just as virtuous as its young women, and if the loss of your society ho the price they aro forced to pay for vice, they, wUl|pt pay it. ,—■ ■ yglio Pang-liter of a,Hundred Earls. ?A *New York correspondent tells a ppnatitic story of a young l*dy now re siding in the metropolis who may he seen daily passing through the streets, or riding on the suburbs, with a roll of manuscripts in her hand, on h- r way to the offices,flf the magazines or the week ly papers, trying to dispose of the pro duction upon wdiich she is dependent for her daily bread. sho is the daugh ter of the Earl of Gainsborough,, w hose London residence is on Cavendish Square, as the owner of the superb es-* tales ami palaces of Exton Park, OaJ< ham and Cottesmore, in Uiitlandsliire, hut his brilliant daughter, Lady Blanche (wtio.se baptismal name, as will he seen by reference to any recent edition of Burke’s Peerage, was Blanche Elizabeth Mary Anunnciata), Ls lost to his sight, if not to his memory. Iler mother was the deceased wife of Ihe Earl of Errol!. Her two brothers are Viscount Camden and Lord Edward, and her two younger sisters are Lady (Jeojg'ha and Lady Frances., YyiiiloJ**' her" twenty-fiist year she fell in litfo with a young .organ ist named Muroliy, and, contrary to the wish of her family, she married him. The mesalliance of tlio daughter ot so great a house wap a surprise and horror to the Earl; who in Iris wrath disowned her, forbade her returning to the ances tral halls, and cut her off from all the* heritage of the family. Mr. and Mi;s. Murphy .soon experienced the trial of penury and. adversity in Li ndon, and four years ago, or within the' first year after their marriage, they arrived in New York, where they again felt the pressure of straitened circumstance. But Lady Blanche was persevering, and < some of her sparkling manuscripts soon found acceptance and brought her a lilt e come. Among other things she con tributed to the Galaxy a serjes ,of bril liant essays on English high life 'and the English aristocracy, which attracted much notice. BoituowiNO Tkoobiib.—“ worst evil” (says the proverb) “are those that never arrive." • By way of practical counsel to all borrowers of trouble, I would say—Face the real ilitlicul ies and trpuhles of life, and yog, won t have time for practic ng the aft of self tor menting. Tho most contented people in. the world are those who are most oc cupied in alleviating, with Christian heart and hand, the sorrows that flesh is heir to. Visit the homes ol ignorance ,-uist poverty and vice, and in the f.ice of ihe terrible realities you will there wit - ness, your own petty cares will seem us* nothing. The anxieties ot tk? fancy, will vanish altogether, while you will he far more abiiT to hear those b’ii>k*i s j which, though real will seem light by comparison —[Our Own fireside. . ( IE 0 © ID 8 -> i President Gram's proposition for I Stale taxation of church propery is nqp meeting with warm.approval is sources from which hearty suppoy, was nn'icipn led. Many of the religious organs'" rd" Protestant denominations i ' fo sueli a measure, and the woailuy churches ot the large cities are not all favorable to it. The prevailing idea, says the Bal- I i.norc Gazette, that the Gath olio Church euiujs special privileges in the exemp tion ot its property is widely erroneous. In tho past ter years tho accumulation ot property by the other denominations has nearly kept pace with that ot tho Calffolio Church. Of the estimated to tal or $334,0011,000 ob taxab'e ’ohurcli property in the United States not less than $204,0 >O,OOO is owned by Prblos taut denominations, leaving the amount liehl by Cathrliws at abmit $00,000,00 ). Whatever may bo said of thb wisdoat ot the President's suggestions, an analyj* sis will show that it Js not a aecturiau question, atleiyit,. , ~ , ■ Rev. says that it half the petit iotwwhioh have been addressed to Mr, Moody .bad been offered to G.n> we sliou.d now bo in the midst of u precious revival. Tho Aineiican Board of Foreign Mis sions lets I'odtlocd its.s2oo,ooo deficiency to about $ >,OOO, and dies appropriated for the expenses ot the coming year as much, within $25,000, as was spent iu 1875. The Na iouul Temperance Society have moved on the Centennial Commis sioners in brave array, and requested them to cancel all giants they have made lor the sale of w ine at the Centennial. An international exhibition on the tem perance plan would he a novelty. Mr. Beecher says ho does not choose to he tried on the main charge before “ a council dt ministers who come to gether on Tuesday and must go homo on Saturday.’’ Any “ legitimate tribu nal" ho will not evade. •' But,” liq says, “ if 1 can help it, 1 will not sit before a jury of foxes aud wolves." Nine Methodist missionaries aro-un der appointment for kja*o.rn will shortly sail for.their respective mi> sions. One goes to South America, one to Bulgaria, lour, will join, the Bombay, Bengal, mid Madras Missions,%ud two aro lor Lbo Indian Afissiop, , , , The Rev. Henry Boehm, better konvtrn as Father Boehm, the oldest preacher of tkt- Methodist Church in the country, ami probable the oldest clergy man in tho world, died last week at thermae ot his grand daughter, near iflLtaotid, Staten Island. On tne Bt.lt the one hundredth uiiuiversHH^F his birlli was celebrated ut Jersey* the Newark Conference, when father Ihn Inn submitted an outline of his owrt rile aud labor in the Methodist Church, arid addresses were made by other clergymen; The excitement ol the . oo tasioii prostrated him, and though lie rallied, lie was again seized with illness oil the 12lhof JieoombiT, whi e attempt ing to preach in the village eburuh at Richmond, S. f. JIo was born in Lan caster county, Pa. ile joined the Meth odist .Church in 1797, He. served in the ministry in Peunsylyaniu, Delaware and Maryland, and was the-travelling companion oi" Bishop Ashufy, Fop more than thirty years. Esther Boehm lias been in the New Jersey Conference, and as early as JBt2 was on tho list of supernumerary preachers. Bishop Haven learns that the 'general opinion of those who know him best is that he never uptns Ins mouth hut he puts his foot iu it. ( , The question of nrinisterid support is one ot* tue properties,of every regulated clerical convention. It is a matter of interest how country pastors manage ly make ,both ends u cot on a siflaiy of ’[A politician cah ouaipy a s6t)tj position and iivo jn a freestone front on the aveupe and in the course of five years stow away iu first class securities like $500,0)4; hut it is 4 [n-culrar knuk, arid clergymen don’t seem to possess it. The papers aro getting excited ovt.n the fact that even bread, and butter are luxuries not always to be depended o,n by. frontier parsons. In Brampton, England, a church us solved the problem by calling a layman to its pulpit. He is a .mechanic, aud is to ply his trade all the week and preach on Sundays. 'Those pews will not sell at a premium, and yet we sometimes think it would do clergymen no harm to know a hit more about the way in which man live and work every day... Wt might not like to see Dr. Tyng or Mr. Uep-. worth selling roast ctpcotimis at tlii; street corner ; hut the fact remains Chaj. ministers would preach better if they knew more of real life. There is, very little use in silting,in a cloud and -iuvitr ing men to cyme up to yoiifc elevation,. • when you know there isn’t any ladder and tliiu men haven't wings. Yet this is wliat a great many tk W *i Some of the . religious papers ami strenuously advocating .t'Ho doctrine of .lie “higher Christian life.”. We meed more aud' belter- illustrations of the, lower Christian life.” Wo always susa poet a man who prolesses that be has “ committed no sin 111 ten years.” He may he very profitahle'as an clement of the prayer meetin/, but wo would rath-? er do business with a Han of ordinary, honor. We have seen men so fea-fully good ihut they-were a little sharp at a.. bargain.^ INTO.