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The Old Bachelor in the Old Scottish
Village.
A queer old humorist lived in a little old
cottage iu the outskirts of our village, lie
had travelled much iu the East, and had
made money as a merchant in Smyrna. Be
ing a native of our parish, and a bachelor,
he came to close bis mortal chapter where
it began. 1 need scarcely say that, like so
many of his class, lie was fidgety, testy, and
troublesome, but a lover of fair play—withal,
warm-hearted, and benevolent. At bottom,
too, he was a thoroughly religious man. Ile
and I were getting on uncommonly well to
gether, when, greatly to my sorrow, he took
ill and died, only a few months after we had
become acquainted. An odd incident befell
him on his death-bed; and L must relate it,
as illustrative of his character.
A thief made his way into the cottage
one midnight, and entered his dying cham
ber to steal; for ho was counted rich as a
nabob. There was burning iu the
room. “What do you waut, friend ?” was
the testy demand of our disturbed old gen
tleman. “Your money and your jewels,”
said the thief. “Oh : you are there, are you?
Very well. .Just look at these old legs of
mine (thrusting out his emaciated members
trom beneath the bed-clothes); nay, lay
hold of them—feel them—so, you must be
perfectly convinced in your own mind now
that I’caiinot go into the next'appartinent,
where my money is. Come, then take me
Non your back, and carry me there.” Sayiri"
this, the old chap, dying though he was, ac
tually rose and got <jut of bed. The thief
drew back, with a look of ghastly surprise.
“ Mark ye ! son of woman born,” continued
the old gentleman emphatically, as he sat
.him down on the front of’the bed, and raised
t his fore-finger with warning solemity; “I
am far ou my way to eternity, and you are
•orning on behind me. You are here to
steal certain trash of mine. Come, now, you
must do better thau that. Draw near. Here
is this bald old heart of mine. . Stand forward.
Heach me now your thievish hand into this
inveterate bosom of mine. Oh! do but
■ steal, rob, plunder from it coveteousness,
lust, auger, and every other lingering bad
passion, and send me lighter on my way.
Oh ! do this, and you shall have all my gold.
You shake your hqad—you cannot. Here,
then friend—l am anything but heavy—
you must take me on your back.” Tire thief
could not stand this. He fell down on his
knees, and begged the old man’s forgiveness.
“ Are you really in waut ? ” asked the eccen
tric invalid. “ I am,” was the reply; “ but
I deserve to be so, for I have been dissipated
and idle; but I think I am a changed man.”
“ Take this ko}', then,” said our dying friend;
“ open my desk in the next room there (poin
ting to the door) ; you will find a purse of
gold in it—bring it to me.” The thief did
so. “ Take that,” said the worthy humor
ist, and he served out his gold liberally into
the thief’s trembling hand. With tears in
his eyes, the poor penitent again fell on his
knees, and craved u blessing on the dying
man. lie was about to retire. “ Nay, friend,
you must help me into my bed first,” said
the old gentlemap ; “ ft is anything but rea
sonable that 1 be raised up at midnight in
this sort of in.nner. Accordingly, the
thief lifted the old man up arms, and
put him iuto the bed. “Now, brother
worm,” said the que%r but wise old patient,
<l I asked this last piece of service for your
own good as well as mine. You will be
nothing the worse for having felt the weight
and worth of an armful of poor, sinful, dy
ing clay. It willlielp you to keep in mind
your good resolutions. Christ be with you !
In his own gracious words, ‘Go and sin
no more.’”
Politeness. — Our friends of -the Pacifi
cator have the following reminder in their
last issue:
Politeness is never out of place. It is ac
ceptable and commendable everywhere. But
more particularly should it be observed in
the house of God. A stranger visiting a
church should he kindly invited to a seat,
and not be permitted to walk through the
church hunting for one, nor left standing
at the door during the service. And when
the minister goes in -the pulpit to preach, it
is a great want of courtesy, to say the least
of it,.'to bo jumping up and running out. It
is insulting to the priest, and disturbing to
the congregation.
We do not intend these suggestions for
anybody or any church in particular; but
offer them iu the kindliest spirit to all of
our readers, believing that one and all will
agree with us in what we have said.
They who act in the path of duty, and
depend on the power of G od, are equally
safe at all times and in all circumstances; no
less safe when surrounded by enraged ene
mies, then when encircled by kind and as
siduous friends.— Newton.
THE ARMY & NAVY HERALD.
Tho way Yankees treat helpless Wo
men and Old Negroes.
A lady from the neighborhood of Wil
liamsburg, of the highest respectability, j
was in the city yesterday, and gave the fol
kAving account of the treatment she had re
ceived at the hands of the Yankees. After
taking all her negroes and depriving her of
the bulk of all the provender and provisions
on her farm, they subsequently came aua
informed liar that they had learned she had
been feeding Confederate scout-*, and if she
didn’t want her children burned, that she
had better take them away, as they intended
right away to fir* her dwelling.. She remon
strated and said vie had fed hundreds of
* her enemies, and surely she ought, to be per
-1 mitted to share the little left her in the
way of food with her friends Suiting the
action to the threat, they piled up her wear
ing apparel iu her chamber and applied the
torch to it. This fired the house.
While it was burning she managed, with
the aid of an aged servant, to rescue a small
portion of her furniture from the flames.
The-hell hounds tela her, however, that she
could select a feather bed from the remnant
saved, as they intended to destroy the rest,
which they did, with the exception of a
large chamber chair and three others (very
heavy) which they reserved for themselves.
These they hid the old negro to carry upon
his head to their camp three miles off. He
protested that he had not Uie strength to do
it—whereupon they kicked and heat him in
they most shameful and unmerciful manner,
until he was compelled, iu order to save his
life, to undertake to perform what would
have taxed to the utmost the strength of an
athletic negro.
. From comparative opulence, this lady has
been reduced to abject poverty, mid compel
led to put her boy of less than 16 in the ar
my because she had not bread to give
him and tt the eawe time fee 1 her smaller
children. While the house was burning,
one *f her neighbors learning the circum
stances, sent ais children to offer her little
ones shelter, thinking that their ago, and
innocence would be a protection fbr them,
even among Yankees. But the creatures
•upon the plea that- these children were con
veying information to our scouts, fired upon
them, fortunately, however, without effect;
and, without waiting to sec the result of
their fiendish conduct, hurried off.
These are the creatures from whom our
fair country-women, in the event of subju
gation, might look for the same mercy that
the wolf metes out to the lamb, or the hyena
to its prey. — Richmond Whig.
The Pen and tho War.
In the history of modern times, no inst.ru
ment of Heaven has played so conspicuous
a part as that apparently insignificant yet
really powerful Warwick—the Pen.
. Warwick ! YGs, a very Warwick is that
little instrument, a maker and puller down
of kings and princes and statesmen, of prin
cipalities and powers.
' Your long-faced Hapsburg-Lorraine, your
wine-drinking Brandenburg, your Napoleon
the Less, fear the Fen more than any army
with banners. A pamphlet published in
Paris, written by a cunning journalist attack
ing the man who limps and ponders among
the groves of Plombiers, would startle and
terrify him. Victor Hugo, let loose against
the Government, Pen in hand, would to day
create more consternation iu the royal head
that thinks for France than an invading army.
On this side of the Atlantic, the Fen has
been threatened with the Bastile, and some
times thrust uneerenionously into prison
by Lincoln. The daring little instrument so
often l ad a Provost guard about its nib in
the United States that it was at times diffi
cult to say what would he its fate. At some
day re-action will come, and the tide of ink
now poured against the South, will return
to blacken forever the character of the men
who-have pushed on this unlioliest of wars.
Iu the South, the Pen is full from tip to
tip of patriotism. It has kept alive the
spirits of our people at home, and fired our
armies in the Held. It has been the agent
of important, and necessary reforms —the
originator and fearless advocate ot measures
which has protected us for four years from
destruction.
No man with an ounce of brains can fail
to see that without the Fen, the Sword would
long ago have rested in its scabbard for want
of that public and private spirit, enterprise
and determination, which alone cau keep
bright and’pointed the blade of war.
It is impossible to over-estimate the value
and power of the Peu in such a struggle as
ours. There is deep philosophy in the say
ing which Sir Bklwer Lytton puts into the
mouth of Richelieu: “The Pen is mightier
than the Sword.” The Pen blacked by
the Sword, and both in the hands of men
determined to be free', like the Douglas and
the Percy, are “ confident against the world
in arms.”
The Power of the Pence. —The 101-,
lowing anecdote, related in a lecture, strik- i
ingly illustrates the power which lies in the |
hands of workingmen to promote their own i
comfort and independence:
A Manchester calico printer was, on his \
wedding day, persuaded by his wife to al- I
hnv her two half pints of a’e as he : share. :
He rather "winced under the bargain'; for j
.si a drinker himself,-he, would have j
preferred a perfectly sober wife. They both j
worked hard, and he, poor man, was seldom
out of the public house as soon as the fac
tory closed. The wife and husband saw
little of each other except at breakfast; but
as she kept things tidy about her, and made
her stinted and even selfish allowance meet
th* demands upon her, he never complained.
Sue had her daily pint, aud he, perhaps, had
his two or three quarts; and neither inter
fered with the other, except at odd times
she succeeded, by one little, gentle artifice
or another, to win him borne an hour or two
earlier at night, and now aud then to spend
an entire evening in his own house. But
these were rare'occasions.
They had been married a year, aud on
the morning of their wedding anniversary,
the husband looked askance at her neat and
comely person, with some shade of remorse,
as he observed : “ Mary, we’en had no hol
iday since we were wed; aud only that I
havn’f a penny in the world, we’d take a
jaunt t.o the village to see the mother.”
“ Wouldst like to go, John?” asked she
softly, between a smile and a tear, to hear
him speak kindly, as in Yd times. “If
thec’d like to go John, I’ll stand treat.”
“ Thou stand treat ? ” said he, with half a
sneer; “hast thyn a fort in’, wench!”
“ Nay,” said she, but I’m gotten the pint
of ale.” “Gotten what?” said lie. “The
pint of ale,” was the rep.y. John still
didn’t-understand her, till the faithful crea
ture reached uovrn an old stocking from un
i dor a loose brick up the chimney, audjeoun
ting out her daily pint of ale, in the shape
of 865 three pence (XI 11s. 3d.'), aud put
it into his hand, exclaiming, “Thee shall
have the holiday, John.” John was asham
ed, astonished,'conscience smitten, charmed,
ile would not touch it Hasn’t thee had
thy share? Then I’ll hare no more,” he
said. They kept their wedding day with
the Old dame; and the wife’s little capital
was the nucleus of a series of investments
that ultimately swelled into shop, factory,
warehouse, country-seat and carriage.
Flag Presentation. —On Thursday
last,, says the Floridian 1 and Journal, of the
25th, a beautiful flag was presented by
Gen. Miller to the Ist Regiment Reserves.
The flag had inscribed upon it ■“ Natural
Bridge,” the first battle in which the Re
serves have been engaged. In presenting
the flag, Gen. Miller made an appropriate
and- patriotic address, which was responded
to by Gol. Barnes, on behalf of the regi
ment, who presented the flag to Sergeant
Holmes, who also eloquently replied. The
regiment presented ou the occasion a fine
military appearance, and a more gallantand
efficient body of men never took up arms
in the cause of Southern independence.
Under the management of their present
officers, they have and will render the most
important services to the State.
After the presentation of the flag, the
regiment was invited to a dinner spread for
them in the Capitol Square, by the ladies,
who are ever foremost in showing their ad
miration for and’administering to the com
forts of our gallant hoys, who are enduring
the privations and dangers of the field in
defense of our couutry.
On Saturday, the 18th, a flag was pre
sented to the Cadets of the Military Insti
tute, by the young ladies of Tallahassee.
Judge I). S. Walker presented the flag in a
speech characterized by his iWual happy
style', aud was responded to by Master 11.
Rope. After the presentation, a collation
was spread in the Capitol, to which ample
justice was done by all. Our gallant boys
are following in the steps of those who be
fore them have illustrated the character and
genius of the Southern people.
Divine Light. —The things which the
Duly Ghost discovers are no other for sub
stance hut those very things which are con
tained iu the written word ; only he affords
regenerate persons clearer light to discern
them by, than they had before conversion.
Turn a learned man to the same author which
he pursued when a young student; he will
find the self-same matter, but see a great
deal further into it, because he hath now
got further light and knowledge.—Arrow
smith.
Be serious and exact in duty, having the
weight of it upon thy heart; but be as much
afraid of taking comfort from thy duties
themselves as from thy sins.— Wilcox.
1);-. II ulles’ 11 j mil —presented to iiis Congre
gation, Jan. Ist, ISSB.
No flight in Heaven.
‘•And there shall be no night ihere."—l!ev
xxii. 5.
No night shall be is Heaven—no gathering
’ gloom.
Shall o'er j hat glorious lanJscape'cver come.
No tears shall fall in sadness o’er those flowers
That breathe their fragrance through celestial
bowers.
No night be in Heaven—no dreadful hour
Os mental darkness, or the tempier’s power.
Across those skies no envious cloud shall roll,
To dim the sunlight of the enraptured soul.
INo night shall be in Heaven. Forbid to sleep,
; These c-ycs no more their mournful vigils keep :
i Their fountains dried—their tears all wiped
i a.vay,
■ They gaze undazzled on eternal day.
; No night shall be in Heaven—no sorrow’sreign—
No secret anguish—no corporeal pain—
! No shivering limbs—no burning fever there—
! No soul’s eclipse—no winter of despair.
*****
No night shall be in Heaven—no darkened riom
No bed of death, or silence of the tomb : t
But breezes ever fresh, with love aud truth,
Shall brace the frame with au immortal youth.
No night shall be in Heaven.' But night ie
here—
The night of sorrow, and the night of fear.
I mourn the ills that now my steps attend,
And shrink Horn others that may yet impend.
| No nigiit shall be in Heaven! 0 had I faith
j To rest in what the faithful Witness saith—
i That Faith should make theie hideous phantoms
flee,
j And leave no night henceforth on earth for me.
--»-*•
Tiie Shepherd and the Lamb—For
i Parents.—The only.child of two thought
{ less parents died. The parents became on
I this account, not only sorrowful, but. disposed
1. to question the goodness of God. They
i even petulantly inquired of their minister,
i howit could be possible that'a God of love
| could have dealt so hardly with them as to
! take their only child. To this question the
i pastor promised a reply, and ho gave it: —
| “ You would kn >w from me why God lias
i taken your child from you ? Well, then,
i he is determined to. have from your family
l at least one member in heaven. You pa
| rents would not prepare to enter iuto heaven;
i aud if that, child of your, had been allowed
j to remain, you would also have prevented it
I from going thither. Hear, further, a' par
j able. There was a good shepherd, who had
prepared costly fodder in his fold for his
sheep, but the sheep would not enter. He
gave himself much concern to induce them
to enter, but they always retreated farther
backward from the open door. Then he
took a lamb from the flock, 'and dragged it.
in; and behold, the pareht sheep ran in
after it! The good shepherd is Christ; the
open fold is heaven; the lamb, your child.
Have yc the hearts of parents ? Prepare
to follow your child. It has been taken
from you on purpose to allure you to the
skies.”
►.»..
Why we*Pray. —We do not Spray to in
i form God of our wants, hut to express our
sense of the wants which we already knows.
Ashe has not so much made hispromises to
our necessities as to our requests, it is rea
sonable that our requests' should be made,
before we can hope that our necessities will
be relieved. God does not promise to those
who want that they shall “ have,” but to
| those who “ ask ; ” nor to those who need
i that they shall “find,”* but to those who
“ seek.” —Hannah More.
Faith the result of a Renewed
Will. —Men must love the truth before
they thoroughly believe it; and the Gospel
has then only a free admission into the as
sent of the understanding, when it brings
a passport from a rightly-disposed will, as
being the great faculty of dominion that
commands all—that shuts out and lets in what
objects it pleases, and, in a word, keeps fke
keys of ike whole soul.— South.
.»
j Tiik Secret of Diligence: —“ Seest
i thou a man diligent in his buisiness? ” says
; Solomon, “ he shall stand before kings.”
! We have a striking illustration of this aph
-1 orism in the life of Dr. Franklin, who
| quoting the sentence himself, adds : “ This
is true ; 1 have stood in the presence of five
kings, and once had the honour of dining
with one.” All inconsequence ofhishaving
been “diligent in buisiness,” from his ear
liest years. What a lesson is this for our
youth, and for us all!
* • « »■»
Heart Depravity. —Human nature is
like a bad clock—it may go right now and
then, or be made to strike the hour ; but its
inward frame is to go wrong. — Adam.
Striving against nature is like holding a
weather-cock with one’s hand: as soon as
the force is taken off. it veers again with the
wiud. — lbid.
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