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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. 7