Newspaper Page Text
F. R. FILDES, Editor.
VOL. YI.
AMICUS’ LETTER, Ko. Vlli.
tam not a believer in universal re
demption and salvation; hence, I closed
my last letter with the declaration, all
are uot saved. But ’•emember, the issue
Between me and theologians: 'l hey
preach that men’s souls mnsl be saved
from, or lost in Hell; I write, that men
must be saved from, or lest in sin in
this world. But it is insisted, that sin
consists in the violation ot a Divine
law, and consequently temporal punish
ment is inadequate- That the law which
lie violates is eternal, and that the pun
ishment could only be temporal, in this
world. It is true that sin is the viola
tion of the Divine law; but that law,
Divine as it is, was given to man to
control his temporal actions, in a tem
poral world. What is the Divine law?
It is a rule t>f action, commanding what
is right, and prohibiting what is wrong,
based upon the general and universal
principle of cause and edict. To wit:
every act that man does, is a cause pro
ducing its legitimate results. If his
act, or cause, is good, good necessarily
grows out of it; ami trace it back, and
you will find that the good ofiect is the
reward of the original act or cause.
Hence, you are rewarded in this life for
the good you do. (rice versa) If
yonr act or cause is bad, it necessarily
leads to evil consequences. And traced
back yon find that the eff ct is the pen
alty or punishment of lire act or cause.
Now, if wc can be rewarded adequately
for obedience to a Divine law i.i a tem
poral world, why can we not be punish
ed adequately in a temporal world for a
violation of a Divine law? If the law
is adequate in one sense, and inadequate
in another, then it is not a Divine law.
Have wo not daily evidences of the
reward of good and the penalty of evil?
W care commanded to woik ! and to
him that seweth, ’tis said he shall reap, j
There is the command obeyed,'and the
reward of obedience. To him that sew
eth not, neither sha'l he reap. There’s
the disobedience: abject want is the
penalty that follows immediately. In
the perusal of Christ’s sermon in the
mount, yon will perceive that blessings
followed immediately meritorious acts.
“Blessed are the poor inspirit: for theirs j
is the kingdom of Heaven.” Poor in
Rpirit, implies an act of the mind, that
is recognized—your own spiritual pov
erty. This recognition is the merit
for which the kingdom of Heaven is
given to yon, as a re ward of merit
When do yon receive it? Immediately
upon humbling yourself and becoming
poor. What kingdom is ii? The king
dom of Heaven established by Christ on
earth. How do you possess it? By
receiving its blessings through its edu
cational facilith s. The kingdom is the
great college, Christ is the Picsident,
ond his true ministers constitute the
faculty, that teach men the true doctrine
of good, and the salvation of men from
the consequences of their sins in this
World. If a child be stolen and carried
away, will not every resource be exhaus
ted to reclaim it? Will not the whole
country, yea, even a whole nation, rise
op and sacrifice all to recover it? Yes,
but that love is human; so it is, but
God’s love is Divine. If humanity will
sacrifice so much for one child, was the
sacrifice of Divinity too great when a
world of his children was lost in the
woods, gropeing in darkness, suffering
with wounds they could not heal, with
diseases they could not cure, enduring
penalties they could not avert to incar
nate Divinity in the flesh, and send the
messenger to point out to man the way
of escape from his soriows and suffer
ings in tliis world? Bat yoo say the
sacrifice was too great, just to save meu
from sin in this world. But he gave
his cnly son to die to save a world from
Hell. I deny that he gave his
son to die to save men either
from their sins in this world, or the pen
alties of their sins in another world,
but that he gave his son to live to save
men from their sins in this world. How?
By becoming roan—taking upon himself
the frailties of our nature —suffering as
we suffer—being tempted by the evils of
this world as we are tempted—and teach
ing us, by his life of righoousness, the
predominent power of the spirit over the
evils of the flesh; and to teach us that
our spirits were immortal, and that the
sweets of immortality might be tasted
even in this life: and that their rewards
would be greater or less according to
their moral and intellectual attainments
in this life. The first dawn of our ex
istence is the beginning of our spiritual
and intellectual eternity. The physical
man begins and ends in one; but to the
spiritual man time is the beginning of
eternity. The spirit is the great prin
ciple of life—a perpetuity of existence,
an importation, ancmination.a scintilla
tion from Divinity, and exists of and
with God, from and to all eternity. It
is of Gcd; it is God; it must return to
the Gi>d that gave it. It was not to
save it from death that Christ lived and
suffered; but to enlighten it, that it
might be happy here and happier here
after. He taught his follower* their.own
helplessness and their dependence npon
God, and demonstrated it by his appeals
to his father. He taught them lessons
of humility, and demonstrated the unsel
fish characteristic by his lowly walk
and conversation. Ho taught them the
noble characteristic of charity, and dem
onstrated it in thousands of acts of be
nevolence. If it was to die to save
men’s souls, after death, to satisfy the
demands of justice, by an expiation of
man’s crimes—and it in his death man
alone is benefited, why I've and suffer,
as a man, to demonstrate these sublime
truths? Then is it not manifest that lie
lived to convince men of their sins, and
by his example save them from their
consequences?
But now, as I have asserted that he
did not die to save men from endless
punishment, nor even to save them from
ttieir sins in this world, you enquire,
for what did he die? Answer : He died
to be resurrected; that in his resurrec
tion the sublime truth might ho made
manifest to man, that though he die he
shall live again. Is tho resurrection a
truth? Isn’t it in accordance with the
Divine law? If it is a truth, it is a Di
vine and eternal truth; and is not subject
to any contingencies to change it to er
ror. Then, if true, it would have oc-
curred whether Christ had been resur
rected or not, or else art eternal truth
would have changed to an eternal false
hood. God from all eternity knew what
would occur, and how it would occur.
Man’s error was just as clear to the In
finite mind as was his creation. One
just ns much a fixed fact, a determinate
truth, as the other. And the birth, life,
death, and resurrection, of Christ, was a
determined fact. The life, death, arid
resurrection, of man was also a deter
mined truth. These truths were inde
pendent of, but co eternal with each
other in the Divine mind. Here the cre
ation of man evidence* the omnipotent
decree of the result.
Man being made lor God’s glory, the
logical sequence is, that by man, could
God bo honored and glorified, only by
man’s acquisition of wisdom, knowing
good and evil, llow could God be glo
rified by man, if man knew no good?
How could he know good except upon
the eternal principle established in the
Divine mind? But again, how could
men be happy without any mental pow
ers of appreciating good? How could
he appreciate good, when he could not
distinguish it from evil? How could he
distinguish good from evil, when he did
not know the existence of either? Hence,
for God’s glory and man’s happiness,
it was essential that man should be
wise, knowing good and evil. How was
he to obtain this knowledge?—by an
act of apparent disobedience. These
two great principles had to he demon
strated to man. To demonstrate Ids
goodness, God clothed his nakcdnrßs.
To demonstrate the existence of evil,
God expelled him from the garden and
gave him a free and unrestrained agen
cy to choose between the two. Man
loved evil and sinned—lost sight of all
good and God, to demonstrate more ful
ly his goodness to man. Ho sent man
a pilot, a teacher, an examplcr, in the
person of Christ, to bring him back,
learn him good and good's reward.
Tbeee facts clearly demonstrate the ne
cessity of Christ’s advent, and the pur .
pose of his life.
Now, for the necessity of his death a id
the purpose of his resurrection. Man
knew that he must die; he knew what
death meant; he had seen man in its
cold embrace—a lifeless inanimate form;
he had seen him laid in the silent sepul
chre, he had missed him from the home
and social circle. His voice was silent,
his chair was vacant, ho was gone. But
could mau conceive an idea so grand, so
sublime, so fiaught with interest, hap
piness and joy, that though the body be
dead and mouldering in sepulchrel
darkness, that his spirit, with its human
identity aud individuality—with all its
moral and intellectual attainments—
HERE SHALL THE PRESS THE PEOPLE'S RI3HTS MAINTAIN, UNAWED BY FEAR AND UNBRIBED BY GAIN.
QUITMAN, GEO., SEPTEMBER 29, 1871.
Kludes the tomb—survives decay—
.■lnd lives in light—eternal day?
Hence, the necessity of the death of a
man t> demonstrate the great truth of
man’s resurrection. Who was to per
form that office?—the man, Christ Jesus,
not God. If a God had been resurrec
ted it would have been no proof of man's
resurrection. It had to be one possess
ed of all the elements and frailties cf
linn attify, to wit: pain, and sorrow,
stiflering and death, (butnot necessarily
decay.) Christ, to all appearance, was
man; but his flesh was not as our flesh.
His flesh was the word—made flesh, he
possessed the humanity of God, and the
humanity of man. llis flesh, formed
like man, enduted like God. Oor flesh
was made mortal, subject to corruption.
Ilis flesh was made immortal and conld
not see corruption. His birth was not
tho result of obedience to the carnal
command to Adam—multiply and re
plenish tho earth. If so, he would have
been man only. But made In confor
mity with tho Divine decree, tho seed of
the woman shall bruise the serpent's
head. To be plain, it is evident that
lie was not a descendant of Adam in
obedience to the carnal command and
process of pro-creation, and why? Be
cause he was made after the power of
an endless life, llcb, vii, 14, 15, 10:
"For it is evident that our Lord sprang
out t f Judea: of which tribe Moses spake
nothing concerning priesthood. And it
is yet lar more evident: for that after the
similitude of Malehisadeo there ariseth
another priest. Who is made not after
the law of a carnal commandment, but
alter the power of an endless life.”
These texts, with others, clearly
prove that ho was made like man,
but not as man; his flesh wab Di
vine, ami t mpt from llie taint of cor
ruption. But you enquire, if his flesh
was immortal and could not see corrup
tion, how docs his resurrection prove
that mortal man, subject to corruption
and dicay, will rise from the tomb again.
It doesn’t prove it—but proves tbo con
trary. It establishes the fact, that the
spiritual man is the cxacl image of the
physical man, and that the spiritual man
Coil’d not sec corruption. Christ’s body
was spiritual—made like unto man—not
as man; but man’s spiritual body is like
unto tbo body of Christ. Therefore it
cannot sec corruption. Hence it is not
of the earth, earthty, but a celestial
body id purely celestia' origin. There
fore the hour and article of death is the
hour and article of the resurrection
Karth returns to earth whence it was
taken, and spirit to spirit that gave it.
It is sown in weakness—it is raised in
strength; sown in mortality, raised in
immortality; sown in corruption, raised
in incon option. When was it sown in
weakness, mortality and corruption?
When the sp’rit to k possession of the
corruptable tenement. When is it
taised? When the weak and mortal
tenement crumbles into dust again.
Man dietli and is no more. Certainly
this is to the physical man, and not the
spirit. Eclesinstcs ix, 5: “For the
living know that they shall die; but the
dead know not anything, neither have
they any more a reward, for the memory
ot them is foigotten.” The spiritual
man, with his intellectual endowment,
knows that tho body must die. Tho
dead body knoweth nothing—neither
hath it any reward. It has performed
its office, aud in sweet forgetfulness of
j human care, mingles again with its na
tive element, no more to be disturbed.
A Grave Affair.—A manufacturer of
tombstones lately received a call from a
countryman who wanted a stone to
place over the grave of his mother. Af
ter looking around for some t'me, and
making sundry remarks about the taste
of bis deceased mother, he finally pitched
upon one which the stone-cutter bad
ptepared for another person. “I like
this one,” said he. "But,” said the
manufacturer, “that belongs to another
man, and has Mrs. Perry’s name cut on
it; it wouldn’t do for your mother.”
“Oh,yes, it would,’’said the countryman;
“she couldn’t read! And besides,” he
continued, as he observed the wonder
ment of the stone-cutter, “Perry was
always a favorite name of hers, any
bow!”
Influence of One Act, —One pound ol j
gold may be drawn into a win- that ;
would extend around the globe. So one
good deed may be felt through all time,
and cast its influence into eternity.—
Though done in the first flush of youth,
it may guild the last of a long life, and
f rm the brightest and most glorious
spot in it.
A matron says there is more love in a
flour barrel than in all the roses aud
woodbine that ever grew.
A KEEPER’S STORY.
It was in the year 186-, that impel
taut business called me from tho small
town N to tho city of A , a
journey of about twenty miles. When
about half way between the two places,
a rain storm overtook me, and made it
necessary for me to put up for tho night.
I accordingly drove into u farmyard and
requested permission to slay through
the night. My request was readily
granted, and after seeing my horse prop
erly cared for, I repaired to the house
with my host, where a warm supper was
awaiting us. Four rosy-cheeked chil
dren were seated around the table, be
side the matronly looking mother.
After supper I drew tip to the fire to
enjoy a smoke with my new friend. As
the man lighted his pipe, I noticed a
deep scar that extended across his hand.
On asking him the cause of it, 1 saw my
host and his wife exchange irlances, and
noted a shadow flit across her handsome
face. After drawing a whiff or two on
his pipe, ho said:
“There is a story connected with that
scar that I shall never forget; and even
now, ns I am sitting hero in safetj', with
my dear wife and children around me, I
cannot repress a shudder at what might
have been.”
On saying that I should like to hear
the stoay, he commenced as follows:
"I was formerly a night watchman in
tho Insane Asylum over in A . I
had been at my employment about two
years, when the incident I ant about to
relate happened. My wife and 1 had
been married about a year, ands! e had
tried to get mo to leave tho asylum, and
find some less dangerous employment,
as she termed it. 1 had laughed at her
feat's, but as she seemed anxious about
it, I had promised in one month more to
do as she asked. The month had neatly
expired; only one more night remained.
I had to go on my watch at ton o'clock.
On this particular night I was seized
with a nervous fear of—l knew not what,
but still I felt that something was about
to happen. In vain I u.gned to myself
(hut I had watched them two years, and
nothing had happened, but argue as 1
would, that shadow still hung over me.
I bad three galleries to go through, and
on each side of these galleries were cells
in which tho patients were confined. As
I passed along. 1 would occasionally see
some bony hands thiust through the
grates, or acme poor fellow would rave
at mo, accusing me of—ho knew what
himself. As I passed into (he third gal
lery it was with such feeling that I
could hardly help turning and fleeing
back to awaken some of the attendants;
but, laughing at my idle fears, as I then
termed them, I resumed my duty. Pass
ing along, I became aware of an uncom
mon noise in one of the cells in which a
new patient 1.a.l been confined. I walked
along and looked through the grates, but
saw nothing out of the way, and was
about passing along when an agonized
groan passed from the lips of tho man
on the straw in the corner—ho was one
of iBo worst patients, and wo could not
give him a bed to sleep on as be would
tear it into pieces. I immediately un
locked tho door and passed into his cell.
I approached him, leaving my keys in
the lock. As 1 stooped over him to see
what was the matter, ite sprang to his
feet, and before I knew what he was a
bout, planted a stunning blow in my
face, which sent me reeling into the far
ther corner. The same time that he
struck, he sprang past me through the
door, and be'ore 1 could prevent him,
had closed and locked it, making me a
prisoner. Then picking up the lantern,
which I had set on the floor outside, ho
held it up and glared at me with his ter
rible, bloodshot eyes, aud muttered:
“I know where they put the big carv
ing-knife, and now that 1 have got the
keys, I will get it, and death will he your
portion.”
"Saying this, he started off, leaving
me in the dark. He wag large and
powerful, weighing nearly fifty pounds
more than I did, and in his present state
a match for two like me. In vain I
tried to think ol some way of escape;
there was none. The window was
strongly grated; the door a dozen men
like me could not move. I thought of
my dear wife and darling innocent babe,
and tears would come in myeyes in spite
of all I conld do What would she sly
when l was uorne a ghastly', bleeding
corpse to the boose. Sometimes I would
try to hope lie would forget me, and not
come back, but reason told me better.
I tried to pray, but instead of having my'
mind on what I said, J was continually
listening for his returning footsteps. At
last they came, nearer and nearer, and
as became in sight I noticed he carried
a long carving-knife in his hand. As
he approached the cell ho accidentally
dropped the lamp, leaving us in darkness.
A faint ray of hope pierced my mind.
Could I not dodge out as he unlocked the
I door? Nearer and nearer he came, and
at last slopped at the door. I could
hear him groping for the keyhole. At
I last I heard him insert tho key and torn
! it, Drawing in a long breath, I nerved
myself for the encounter, and as the door
I opened, I made a spring at him, and
' Providence favoring me, caught him by
collar. l’utting forth a desperate effort,
! I twitched him, and tripping him at the
i same time, sent him to the further side
l of the room. 1 immediately sprang out
and was locking the door, when he rush
ed to it, bin finding it locked, reached
1 through the grates aud with his kuife
struck mo across the hand, while I was
removing the key. As he went to draw
back his hand, I seized it by the wrist
and catching hold of the knife with my
wounded, wrentched it from him. The
next day I left the asylum for good, and
have never been inside of one since.
We bought this farm, and have lived
here ever since; and, now, friend, you
can judge, whether I_can ever look hack
to that night without a feeling of hor
ror.
WAS SHYLOCK A .lEW?
There are people who bcliovo that
Shakespeare made Shylook a Jew in or
der to pander to tho popular hostility
existing at that day to tho Israelites.
But, was Shylock—the Shylock’of histo
ry, a Jew or a Christian? A correspon
dent, (M. E. G.,) who takes'an interest
in the query, writes as follows: “The
affair took place in Koine in the time of
Popo Sextus the Fifth—l have copied
tho same verbatim from a work entitled
—"History of Pope Sextus V.," page
401:
It was currently reported in Rome,
that Drake had taken and plundered St.
Domingo, in Hispaniola, and carried off
an immense booty. This account came
in a private letter to Paul Sechi, a very
considerable merchant in the city, who
had large concerns in those pans which
he insured npon receiving this news.
Ho sent lor the insurer, Sampson Cone
da, a Jew, whose interest it was to have
such a report thought false, gave many
reasons why it could rot possibly he
true, and at last worked himself into
such a passion that he said, “I’ll lay a
pound of my flesh it is a lie." Such wa
gers, it is well known, are often propos
ed, by people of strong passions, to con
vince others that are incredulous or ob
stinate. Nothing is more common than
to say, "I’ll lay my life on it.” I'll for
feit tr.v right hand if it is not true.”
Sochi, who was of a fiery, hot temper,
replied, "If you like it 111 lay you one
thousand crowns against a pound of
yonr flesh, it is true.” The Jew accept
ed the wager, and artio'cs was immedi
ately executed between them, the sub
stance of which was tiiat if Sechi won he
should himself cut the flesh with a sharp
knife, from whatever part of the Jew's
hedy he pleased. Unfortunately for the
Jew the truth ol the account was very
soon after confirmed by' other advices
from the West Indies, which threw him
almost into distraction, especially when
he was informed that Sechi had solemnly'
sworn he would compel him to the exact
literal performance of the contract, and
was determined to cut a pound of flesh
from the Jew’s body. Upon this lie
went to the Governor ot Rome, and beg
ged ho would interpose in the affair and
use liis authority to prevail on Sechi to
accept one thousand pistoles as an equiv
alent for a pound of flesh; hut tho Gov-
ernor, not daring to determine a case of
so uncommon a nature, made a report to
the Pope who sent for them Loth, and
having heard the articles read and in -
formed himself of the whole affair from
their own months, said: "When con
tracts are made it is just they should I e
fulfilled, as we intend this shall. Take
a knife, Sechi, and cut a pound of flesh
from any part you please of the Jew’s
body. We would advise you, however,
to be very careful, for if you cut a scru
ple, or a grain, more or less than your
due, you shall certainly be hanged. Go
and bring hither a knife and a pair of
scales, and let it be done in our pres
ence.” The merchant at these words
began to tremble like an aspen leaf, and
throwing himself at the feet of his Holi
ness, with tears in his eyes protested it
was far from his thoughts to insist upon
the performance of the contract, and be
ing asked by the Pope what lie demand
ed, said, "Nothing, Holy Father, but
your benediction, and tho articles may
be tom to pieces;” then turning to the
Jew, asked him what he had to say, and
whether he was content. The Jew an
swere I ho thought himself extremely
happy to come off at so easy a rate, and
that he was perfectly content. "But we
are not content,” replied Sextus, “nor is
there sufficient satisfaction made to our
laws; we desire to know what authority
you have to lay such wagers. The sub
jects of prince are the property of the
statj, and they have no right to dispose
ol their bodies or any part of them, with
out express consent of their sovereigns.”
They were both sent to prison, and the
Governor ordered to proceed against
them with the utmost severity of tho
law.
Beyond Per Cent. —General Craft, one
of our prominent lawyers, was hailed
while passing Freeman’s jewelry store
by the proprietor witli : “General, come
in here a moment; we have something
for yon to solve. If a man brings his
watch to bo fixed, and it cost me ten
cents to do it, ami I keep it a week, ami
charge him six dollars, what per cent,
do 1 make? VVe have been figuring, and
make it nine hundred per cent, and
have only got up to one dollar, now
much and i you say it would bo at six
dollars?”
“Well,” replied (ho general, “I do
not wonder at your perplexity; (or ii is
well known, and tiio celebrated Rabbit
calculating machine has demonstrated,
that at certain points in progressive
numbers the law governing thorn o'tan
j ges. In this ease the law would change,
: and long before it would reach the six
j dollars it would run out of per ceut. aud
into what is known as larceny."
[52.00 per Annum
NO. 39
DON’T LET MOTIIEH DC) IT.
IIY CARRY ALTON.
Daughter, don’t let mother do it f
Do not let her slave and toll
While you sit. a useless idler,
Fearing your soft hands to soil.
Don’t you see the heavy burthens
Daily she is wont to bear
Bring the lines upon her forehead—
Sprinkle silver iu her hair?
Daughter, don’t let mother do it I
l)o not let her bake and broil
Through the long, bright sumuter hours,
Share with her the heavy toil;
Fee her eyes has lost its brightness,
Faded from her cheek the glow.
And the step that once was buoyant
Now is feeble, weak and slow.
Daughters, don't let mother do ill
She has cared for you so long,
Is it right the weak and feeble
Should be toiling for the strong f
Waken from your listless languor.
Seek her Hide to cheer and bless;
And your grief will be less bitter
When the sods above her press*
Daughters, don’t let mother do it!
You will never, never know
What were home without a mother,
Till the mother lieth low—
Low beneath the budding daises,
Free from earthly care of pain—
To the home, so sad without her,
Never to return again.
A BLO 0 DTUIRSTY*VO.M AN.
A woman named Agnes Nonnan, seems
to have had extensive but peculiar expe
rience in various parts of London. It
appeared recently at U coroner’s inquest,
that about a ycUr ago the child of a lady
visiting in the house where Agnes was
employed, was found dead in bed, under
mysterious c'ifcufnstanCes. Iu ber next
place, Agnes one day brought a child
home insensible, saying that it lad fal
len from her arms. The infant recover
ed, and within three weeks she took it
nut again and brougqt it back dead. In
her third situation, a boy of seven awoke
with a choking sensation, and afterward
told liis father that Agnes hud placed
her hand over his mouth and given
him money to say nothing about it. At
another house vvfiero she was employed,
a child was found insensible in bed, and
on recovering showed great terror at I her
sight of the girl. At another, she lock
ed a child up in a wardrobe, took it out
and put it to lied, where it ttotf found
dead shortly ,afterward , Birds and do
mestic animals died suddenly and strange
Iv as children in houses where she lived.
Finally she was employed by the lamily
of a Mr. Boer, who three days afterward,
returning With his Wife front a dinner
party, hcavd violent screams in the nur
sery and rushed up stairs to find one
child lying on the floor nnd another be
tween the bed arid the waif, dead, Willi
two compressed marks on ils lips. The
verdict oftbo coroner’s jury was “Bcatli
from suffocation, accidentially caused,”
with which we read in the London pa
pers,‘the father said be was dissatisfi
ed.’’ Tbs case is to bo further investi
gated. A mania for murder is a recog
nized, though happily not a common form
of mental disease. The case of a female
nurse in one of the continental hospitals,
who professed that she had been in the
habit of killing her patient*/ witli do
other rnotivo than an insane eagerness
to see them die, is fresh in onr recollec
tion. We are not prepared to say that
women more frequently givo way to
such horrible impulses titan men;- but we
recall at this moment several instances
given by tho books, iu cacli of which it
was a woman who fi it tho inrtnne desire,
and generally a child that she wanted to
kilb
Fever and Ague. —We find tho follow
ing in tho Cleveland Herald: “Wo
wish to gito a very simple remedy for
fever ami ague, and emphasize it by say
ing that it lias, to our knowledge, proved
Very efficacious. It is simply common
salt. A tabh'spoonful taken iu water,
and a teaspoonful deposited inside tho
stocking next the foot as the fever is
coming on. That’s ail there is In it; but,
knowing that it has been efficacious in
"breaking” the Chili and perfecting a
cure, wc put it in our editorial columns,
where no humbug remedy shall ever
find a place, if we know it.”
"I wish I had yout head,” said a lady
to a lawyer who had just solved a knot
ty point for her < "And I wish 1 had
your heart,” responded the lawyer. ft
wans not long before the lawye r.s stead
and the lady’s heart went into partner
ship for life.
A gentleman said to an old Indy who
had brought up a family of children near
the river, ‘ l should think you would
live in constant fear that some of tlmm
woo'd get drowned.” "Oh, no,” respon
ded tiie old lady, "we only lost three or
four in that way.”
Trying to do business without Jadvcr
tising is like winking at a pretty girl
through a pair of green goggles. You
may know what you are doing bnt no
body else does ■■
An old bachelor recently gave the fol
lowing toast: “Woman—the morning
star of our infancy, the day star of man
- 1, and the cv< ning star of age. Bless
our stars, and nay they always be kept
at telescopic distances.”
A man whose wife hanged herself in
his presence, on being asked why he did
not prevent the tragedy, replied: "I
cut her down three times last week, and
I can’t be always cutting her down.”