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adlliL I liJfiiir £iMjikluiC iMriiklWi&iJlJ. J. H. SEALS, ) am> > cunoiis. E. A. STEED, S MW m mi, i. THE TEMPERANCE BANNER, rcm.lsHEU I.VKKY SATI ItPAV Excsrv TWO IS Till- VRAM, BY JOHN H. SEALS. The ha* a lar?e circulation, i dally in* creating, and hid* fair to become the nio**t popular paper In the tomh. it i offered, with confidence, (owin>r to it- circulation he iu/general.) to Merchant*, Mechanics, aiut Frofeadonal men, ** an ADVERTISING MEDIFM through which th<-ir huidnea* may be extended in thi? and adjoining State.-*. TERMS OF STBSCRIPTION. #I,OO per annum, if paid iu advance. 1.1 > “ 44 it’ not paid within ait months. #2,00 H •* if not paid until the end of the )*nf. TERMS OF ADVERTISING. 1 w)u*re t (eight linea or les*,) flr*t insertion,. t 1 00 Each continuance, 50 Professional or Business Card*, not exceeding 5 line**, pr vr 5 <K> STANDING ADVERTISEMENT?*. 1 aquare three month*, without alteration, $ 3 00 1 “ 44 altered quarterly, 7 00 ] 44 twelve ** 44 44 1 4 2 00 2 Square* 44 44 “ “ 18 00 H m * u * *• 21 00 a o * O •• 25 00 tr Advertisement* not marked with the number of insertion*, trial he continued until forbid, and charged accordingly. Cy Merchant*, ftni/flri*ts, and other*, m.v contract for adr* r tl-lng by the year, on reasonable term*. . THE TWO RIVKRK. a \ John rnnr eis (in.. There’s ft bright ami pleasant river. Flowing on to God forever; On its honks the liowers shiver When the winds around them quiver. And from their stems they sever Wafted to this lovely river. They float on to God forever. Forever and forever. And each billow sparkles brightly, As it hears its burthen lightly, Bure as stars that glisten nightly Vaught is there to deem unsightly : Ynd each flower on that river Has a voire that seeing to quiver : “We sail on to God forever. Forever and forever.” There’s a dark and gloomy river. Flowing on to Hades ever; On its bank.- the rank weeds shiver, When the winds around them quiver, And from the earth they sever ; Hurled into this gloomy river. They float on to Hades for ever. Forever and forever. And each billow wildly heaving, Bears a burthen, onward cleaving. While Kgyptian darkness weaving Hides the subtle bank deceiving. And each weed uj on the ri\cr, lias a voice (hat seems to quiver:— f.alas! am doomed forever, Forever and forever!” THK FEMALE* EBASTOI'OL, There is a fortress fair as ari. And cold as Russia’s clime of winter, Walled round within a maiden's heart, Mv love has sought in vain to enter. l.ong I've besieged her castle* fair, With all 1 .eve’s forces, sweet and tender; But still she reigns nnconquered (her.-. And still refuses to surrender. O, for some friendly power in arm.- Some Austria of contending nation- - To soften her resisting charms. And bring her to negotiations ! For, by consent of heathen dove, The siege shall never be forsaken, Till conquest crowns the arms of Love, And my Sebastopol is taken. (getntyct'ftttce. WHO AUK INTERESTED IN THF. ENACTMENT OF A PROHIBITORY LAM. 1. Drunkards who, as nine out of ten of them now earnestly wish, will he r.o loegw’ exposed to temptation. j, Temperate drinker*, so called; who will no longer he in danger of becoming drunkards a* now -ix-tenths of them, according he reliable aullioritsv, do heeome. Parents whose children, wives who.-* bus hands, sister.- whose brothers or lovers, children whose parents, friends whose friends will then he safe, arid themselves relieved from th<- agonies of tVar, oi of grief and shame which they now endure. 4, The employers whose laborer- will then work more steadily, more quietly. and more profitably performing at least one-fifth more labor in tlie -ame time. 5. The employed: who will save at least twenty live per rent of his pay, and Is- every way per-ou ally, and relatively to Id- faitiih n w.ser. healthier. happier mail. b. Capitalists; who** property will Ire exempt from the casualties to which it is now subject, in conse quence of the ineoinpeteney or negligence of their agents, produce*! by the use of intoxicating drink* T. I.ife and lire, and marine insurance* companies, whose risks w ill be reduced at least one-fifth. P. Travellers and transporters hv railroads and steamboats; whose lives and property will then he free from the hazards caused by the stupidity or recklessness of engineers and switch-attendcrs, un der tbc influence of intoxicating drink* Pcbotfi) to (frinpcrantf, literature, General Intelligence, anb the ‘latest 31elus. —• *- 0 ‘ V-J , Every tax paying citizen; who will then be re lieved from three-fourth* of his present assessments to support courts, jails, penitentiaries and poor i houses. 10. Every patriot; who will then see his country i delivered from its direst curse; its productive labor j increased one-fifth, its capital augmented by the hun dred of millions of dollars per annum, .now con sumed by the use of intoxicating drinks, and above all, its moral character elevated, and its libeities - endangered more by drunkenness than by nny tiling j else—safe. 11. Every philanthropist; whose heart will re joice in him to sec the victims of nun clothed, and in their right minds; beggared, beaten, starving and wretched families restored to plenty and comfort; and the whole community placed in an advanced po sitioh to run a noble carver of prosperity, happiness and glory 12. Every Christian; who will regard the new j suite of things as a fulfillment of prophecy: as an ! answer to prayer: as the reward of labor: as n pro ’ mtse that the gospel is to exert an influence, and i make advances henceforth, unknown to the church ! hitherto. ! Jft. Every minister of religion; who w ill no lon j gcr preach to men whose moral sensibilities have i been deadened, and, in many cases, destroyed by strong drinks: whose flocks will no longer comprise ; members disgracing religion by their drinking hah , its, or disquieting their brethren by tbeir disorderly ! conduct; and whose usefulness, and even w hose, frec : doin of speech and action will no longer be fettered by rich manufacturers, sellers and topers in their j congregations. What good, indeed, may • not the true-hearted minister of the gospel expect from the suppression of this accursed traffic! 1 IT. All, in tine, who arc engaged in making and trafficking in intoxicating drinks; who will then no i longer murder, and otherwise ruin and destroy their tellow-creaturcs: their interest.* will no longer bind them to iniquity, and bind them to its pollution and guilt; and it may be hoped that delivered—though against their wishes—from their delusions, their consciences will regain a portion of lost pow er, and hence that they may yet repent of their stupendous wickedness, and, at the eleventh hour, with the thief on the cross, obtain pardon from outraged Heaven. MAKE THE USE VOLK OWV Some very good people doubt the expediency of prohibitory laws against the. liquor traffic. They would still rely upon moral suasion. We shall irn j peach neither the honesty nor the benevolence of | these men: but upon (bis question so many and marvellous changes of opinion have occurred within six months past, that we by no mcaffis likspair of i seeing all honest friends of reform ngi'fcerni irt this vital principle of prohibition, so essential to pro | gross, nay, to the continued lift , of the temperance reformation. Some of these objectors are parents, arid, of course, . deeply solicitous for the well-being of their children. I Let us suppose a case, which shall not only do no violence to probability, but counterpart of which may he found in the every day actualities around us. ] Here is a community, in the main virtuous, tem perate, respectable. Its professional men, its mer ; chants, its nrtizans, are characterized by integrity, * industry, and thrift. Education and religion flour ish, together w ith all material interest*. Rut there is one blot on this fair picture —the grog shop! Open by day and far into night—throwing out its ] lures in this direction and in that—tempting the thoughtless youth within the circle of its fatal infill- i ence, drugging him to delirium with it* terrible poi sons, and weaving around him the meshes of habit and appetite, till, to their combined inßiieners, he surrenders his manhood this i . its work, and tins j the fruit of its ministry. Yonr son is its victim. Through ilio*o very trait -lin his character which renders him btdoved—his frank, ingenuous nature, his love of companionship, jof social enjoyments, and his confidence in his fel lows—he has been led astray, until the occasional gla*s has been succeeded by habitual tippling, and the latter has degenerated into confirmed drunken ness. Not without a struggle again*! these down ward tendene’ew on his part, has this |>int been reached. He has seen the gulf towards which hi* j feet were sliding; has looked into it* fsiiling nell, and. with .-I verted face, clutched despairingly at every promise of rescue from it-, sure perdition, (tut the weakened will has, again and again, yielded to the strong temptation—the former growing weaker and weaker with each defeat: the latter stronger and ; stronger, for the unsuccessful rcsistanc*-. You have tried all the appliance* that parental love and pa rental autliority can suggest, to save your son. In vain. He.promise* t*i drink no more out hi* tempt er laughs all such promises to scorn You have re monstrated with the liquor-vender, and wrestling’ down VKur prkle, have told him of the anguish and desolation that he is bringing upon yonr household. In vain. Yet nothing but the removal of th* tonip tation can save your son Has the grogsellera rii/hi ‘to destroy hiru'r Then nothing remain* hut -uhmi* .-ion. But you deny the right. You demand that be shall no longer poison and madden y our child You so far prvhibit his traffic. May not other fa thers join w ith you in thi- act of prohibition? May not the whole community? May not the legislature? Thru, we -hould have a prohibitory hur. And when it is mad*- manifest that only through tin- operation of such a law, can we rescue our own household from the destroyer, all objection, on our part, to its enactment must cease. NVe liave only to feel the n(Amity oj proUrtUjt’ as personal toourselve-, or to OUT fainilice.lto make every man of wtjtrob HiiHonitt, PEMIEIjD, (iliOßlill, SITIIDAV, Jill 7,1855. Not til! these potent poisons, now ignorantly, or from the force of diseased appetite, used .as a be\ erage, arc banished from society, or placed in the guardianship of discreet physicians and apotheca ries, as other poisons arc, can we hope for exemp tion from the numerous ills consequent upon.Shoir perversion: 1101 can this hanishmeni tie ell'ected un til tin- laws of the land are brought into harmony with the purpose of civil government —the /notation of hunon,ity, irith oil th. interests thereto o/>p, r tniimnj, _ | Prohibitionist. FACTS WORTHY OF NOTICE. It is otiiet, 11 ml nine tenths of the inmates of our poor houses were brought there directly or indirect ly by the use of strong drink. It isajitet, lint three-fourths of ull the convicts in otir State prisons, jails, and penitentiaries, were hard drinkers previous to the commission of thectimes for which they were imprisoned It is ‘i fort, that the greatest sull'erer- from dis ease, and those whose maladies are the most difficult j to cure, are those who arc addicted to the use ofj strong drink It is it j’uet, that ot all those who commit .suicide nine-tenths an the immediate or remote victims of strong drink. It a a tiict, that in all tarnilies whoretla* children an- dirty, halt naked and ill fed, the rooms tifthy and in disorder, the husband cross, discontented and pec visb, and the wive- slatterns, ill tempered and ipinr relsome, one, it not both the parents, is addicted to strong drink. i It is it fiict, that those who least attend the vror- 1 ship of t.iod in the sanctuary, and those who hv their oaths, blasphemies anil horrible execrations, shock the ears of serious people, use strong drink. It is a /iict, that, those who arc most easily led to ridicule -acred things, and to join in every kind of profligacy are spirit drinker.-. It is n til it, that ot all those who have died of cholera, in Europe and America, nine-tenths were spirit drinkers. If it a fuel, that, a great proportion ot deaths l>v apoplexy and p;iraly*is arcoceH*ioncd b\ the u*< of strong drink. !( in fuel, that the person never yet lived, nor I ever w ill live, wlm was not injured hv the use of strong drink, as a beverage, in health. // is a fad, That three-fourths of the taxes spring from the sale of intoxicating poisons, // in a fad, that it these facts do not convince the people that the vile traffic in iutoxfc'ting liquors should lie put down by the strong arm of the law, • tier would hardly be persuaded though one rose from the dead to admonish theiu ofthejr duty. MODERATION’; “Moderation,” said a shrewd reflfarker, “is some where between a glass and a barrel.” Yes, it, is somewhere, lmt nobody can tell where. To one man a single glass is moderation; but to another, one is ! abstinence, and be calls two, moderation; another, three; another,four; and soon, until you will reach one who calls ns many glasses as be can bear w ith out staggering, moderation. It is observable also, that the same quantity does not continue to be mod- j oration with the same man. lie, to whom one glass was just now moderation, and two excess, advances to two, and soon to three, and then to lour, and so on, as moderation, anil successively calls a greater number of glasses excess; and, ultimately, excess means neither more nor less than dead drunk, and moderation just short of this. Hence tin- difficulty of telling where moderation is. It is not the same quantity with different men, nor a fixed quantity with the same man. All you can say about it is, that il is “some where between a g!a-s and a barrel.” ec-ellcu ie ou $ Sc lectio no, EDITOR DREAMING O.V HEDDI.N'ti CAKE. A ha<-helor editor out west, who had received freon the fair hand of a hr Me a piece of elegant wedding cake to dr* am on, thus give- the result of his expe rience: VYe put it under the head of mir pillow, shut our eyes * vveetly a* an infant, blessed with an easy conscience, soon snored prodigiously. The god of dreams gently touched u , and In! in fancy w< were married! Never *va* a litll* eililor so liappy. It was “my love,” ‘‘dearest,” • • w eetest,” ringing in our ears every moment Oh! that the dream had broken oil'hen Hut no, some evil genius put it into the head of our ducky to have pudding for dinner, just to pleai-e her lord In a hungry dream w < sat down to dinner. Well the pudding moment arrived, and a huge slice almo-t ob-a-nre I from *ight the plate before in*. My dear,” -aid we loudly, ‘ <ii*i > mi make this?” ‘Ye-, lot-.- ain't it nice? “♦dorioii” the !te-t Triad ptt'lding lever tasted in my life*.” “Plum pudding, ducky,” ugg’ - trd my w ill “ft, no, ih-ar* t. hr el piuMing. I always was fond of ‘em.” “(.'all that brc.ui pudding- exelaitne'l my wife, while her lip* curled slightly with contempt. “('ertainlv, lov dear -reckon I’ve had enough at the Sherwood liou**- to know bread pudding my love, by all means.” “Hu-hand, thi- is really 100 had- plum pudding is * win as hard to make a* bread pudding, and is more expeu -ivc. and i* > great deal better, t -av thi* is plum pudding, sir,” and my pretty wife’s brow flushed with excitement “My love, my sweet, inv dear love,” exclaimed we, soothingly “do not get augrv I'm sure it's very good, if it is bread pudding “ ‘bin, sir, I suv it ain't bread pudding.” “ Vnd madam, I -ay it i- bread pudding.” ‘‘You mean, low, wriJtcli,” fiercely replied my i wife in a high tone, “you know it's plum pudding.” I ; “Then, ma’am, it is sn meanly put together, and ■ so badly burned, llnit the devil himself wouldn’t know it. 1 tell you, madam, most distinctly and emphatically, and 1 will not bo contradicted, that it's bread pudding, and the meanest kind at that.” “It is plum pudding,” shrieked my wife, as she hurled a glass ol claret in my face, the glass ilself tapping the claret from my nose. “Bread pudding!” gasped we, pluck to the Inst, and grasping a roasted chicken by the left leg. ‘‘Plum pudding!” rose above the din, as I had a distinct perception of feeling two plates -mash across my head. “Bread pudding!” we groaned in rage, as the chicken left our hand, and flying with swill wing across the table, landed in madam’s bosom. “Plum plodding!” resounded the war-cry from the enemy as the gravy dish took us w here we had been depositing the first part of our dinner, and a plate of beets landed upon our white vest. “Bread pudding, forever!” shouted we in ih;fl* j mice, dodging tile soup tureen and falling beneath ‘ its contents. “Plum pudding!” yelled the amiable spouse, ns ; noticing out misfortune, she determined to keep us down by piling upon our bend the dishes with no gentle hand. Then in rapid succession followed the war cries “l'lmn pudding!” she shrieked with] every dish. t “Broad pudding!” in smothered tones came up [ from lln pile in reply. I’licn it was ‘'plum pud ding” in rapid succession, the lust crj growing feeb ler, till just a* I can distinctly recollect, it had grown to a w hisper. “Plum pudding” resounded like tbun | der, followed by a tremendous crash, as my wife leaped upon the pile, with lire delicate feet, and com I inclined jumping up and down when, thank Heav en, we awoke, and thus saved our life. We shall , never dream mi wedding cuke again that’* the | moral ITfl! STRAWBERRY BOV, , One tine morning in the summer of is:;:;, a hand i some, but poorly dressed boy, called ill the door of a | rich mansion in 1, square in New York city, and ) offered some baskets of strawberries for wile, [lav I ing disposed of the fruit, lie wa* disposed I” depart, when his attention was arrested by the appearance ofa beautiful girl, some twelve years old, who cross ed the hall near the door. She was the only daugh ter of Hie gentleman of the house. ‘l'lie kind look • which she bestowed on him struck a cord in his heart, which, until lhat moment had never vibrated. “She i* very lovely!” he exclaimed mentally, “but ! she is the daughter of a great, millionaire she can I lie nothing to me.” “1 am young,” be continued to himself. “ Would I ! could make myself worthy of her.” And this thought, though it did not banish the feeling, bushed it. A week passed, and the little boy again stood, with palpitating heart, at the rich man’s door. His fruit was purchased a: before, and le- received the money front the white hand of the lair being whom, from the moment he first saw her, In- had dared to love. She spoke kindly to him and hade hint call j again. He did not forget tlie-order. He railed again, but the. season was advancing, and the fruit had become a scarcity. “I shall not be able to bring you any more,” lie said one morning. “1 am sorry, for it was a pleas ure for rne to call here, but w e may meet liereaHcr.” The young heart that fluttered in the bosom of that young girl wa touched at the musical though somewhat melancholy tone In which the was utter ed, and she timidly replied that “she would rerncm lier him.” “\Ve shall mel t again, Miss, when, I promise you, you shall not he ashamed to acknowledge the ac quaintance of the poor i.rawbcny boy.” Three years elapsed. Thi tide* of speculation which tun swelling in our country had not reached the Hood, and the man of wealth, with his beautiful daughter, rolled in his elegant carriage on their way to Trinity Church, charlotte was just “sweet six teen,’ and th<- hud w:js hanging to the open rose - She was fair indeed. The service had ended the magnified!! carriagi stood at the church door; the elegantly caparisoned hor*< s pawed the ground uneasily -a liveried foot man held the door, and the wealthy imich.int hand i ed his lovely daughter to the coach, amid the low j ob*-i -mice of her gay admirer.- Why does she not obsoi-. : the homage of her thou- j sand admirers? A young hut plainly dressed .Danger stand* qui- j etJy n1 the side of the church door, and her ga/.e for j a moment is riveted on his features. NY ho can it In: ? .Vo she cannot remember. The carriage rolls slowly towards the stately man sion of the man of wealth, and the father discovers an uncommon quietness in his daughter’ demeanor. “My dear Charlotte, are you ill?” “No, father, no -1 am very well.” They arrived at the doqr—the stranger was there.. They alight—he extend- a very slight hut respect#- hlc bow to the heiress, and moves on A blush tinges that bright check —she recognizes ! him. Charlotte retires to her chamber —she was I unhappy-, -bu! surely the stranger was nothing to | her, or she to him. Time rolled on. It was the coldest night of the uncommon w inter of IBHI>, and the memorable lfftli •of December. A fire had broken out in the evening in one of the principal streets of the business part of VOL XXI.-NUMBER 27. the great commercial metropolis it raged violciitlv ! and at early morning on the succeeding day a groat i portion of the city lay in ashes, i The millionaire was comparatively a beggar ; his , furniture was sacrificed, his mansion disposed of, his splendid horses and carriage passed into other hands, land even Jesse, Charlotte’s coal black favorite, was I doomed 10 pass from them under the hammer. “Poor Jesse"’ sighed hi-- mistress; “I hope he may fall into good hands.” Isnl nobody wanted Jesse, and he was finally pur chased and thrown away upon a stranger. “Who did you say was the purchaser ♦” imjuircd Charlotte of her father. A Mr. Manly, I think, said her father. Another year had lied. Misfortune had followed in rapid succession, and the revolution of 1837 had finally reduced our man of wealth to bankruptcy. The following advertisement appeared in the papers of the day : “\\ ill be sold at public auction, on Wednesday ncvl, on the premises, the right of redemption to (hat beautiful cottage with about an aero of land ad joining, laid out in a garden, well stocked with fruit j trees mid shrubbery, situated on the south side of I Staten Island, and mortgaged to John Jacob Astor | for tlie sum of ten thousand and three dollars, &r, ; Sal. positiw- title indisputable possession given j immediately—terms cash.” The rich man, that was, in vain appealed to hi;, sunshine friends for aid. They must have security the times were hard -they had lost a good deal of money -people sometimes would live too fast it wasn’t their fault vry sorry, but could not help him. From bad to worse he succeeded, and now, reduc ed to the last extremity, ho bad retired to his beau tiful retreat, with the hope that rigid economy and fresh application to business would improve his rap idly sinking fortune. But Ids star was descending, be had no security to oiler, and the cottage was sold. It was a bright day in autumn the purchasers I were few; there waslnit little competition, and the j estate passed into other hands. The purchaser gave j notice that he should take possession forthwith. And what was to become oT the Jovely child? Hi last home had been taken from him, and that fail girl was motherless. The heart of the fond lather misgave him when ho received information that the premises must be immediately vacated. lie bad boon a proud man, but his pride was now bumbled, and calmly he resigned himself to this last stroke of affliction, lie, too, wept—it was u fearful sight to see that strong man weep! But his troubles w< re nearly at an end. The day following that upon which the .side occurred had well nigh past. The afternoon was bright and balmy. The father sat w ith his daughter in the re cess of ono of the cottage windows which looked out upon the highroad. He had received a note from the purchaser of the collage, informing him that he should call upon him in the afternoon, for the purposes of examining the premises more fully than lie had opportunity of doing. They awaited his visit. “0, father!” shouted Charlotte, forgetting for the moment her sorrows, “look, there is my darling lit tle Je-.t!’’and n knock at the door called her at once to recollection. The door was opened by the once princely pro prietor of the princely mansion in L- quart-. Before him stood a curious looking man, who en quired for Mr. S . “Mr. Manly, sir, now the owner of this cottage. I have just received the deed from my attorney, and with your permission should be glad to examine the estate.” “Walk in, sir, you are master here, and I thall vacate as soon as your pleasure may require it. My daughter, sir,” he continued, ns the stranger entered the parlor. ‘•This is Mr. Manly, Charlotte, the purchaser of our little cottage.” “The person whom you once knew only as tin strawberry boy,” continued Manly, ns he took her extended hand. “My dear sir,” said Manly, addressing the father, “I am the owner of thin cottage. Seven years ago I had the happiness to receive from this lair hand a few shillings in payment fur fruit, which 1 carried to the door of the then affluent Mr. Sos I,~— square. I was but a boy, sir, and a poor boy; hut poor as I was and wealthy a.- was this lady, I dared to love her. Since then I have traveled many leagues, 1 have endured many hardships, with but a single object in view tliaf of making myself wor thy of your daughter. Fortune has not been nig ! gard with me, sir; my endeavors have been crowned , with success; and I come hero to-day not to take i possession of this lovely cottage alone, but to lav my j fortune at the feet of worth and beauty, and to offer this fair being a heart which exists but for herself alone.” Charlotte loved, and shortly after gave her hand to Manly. They remained in tho cottage, which I was newly furnished; and many times afterward did hlio mount her favorite ‘Jesse,’ at the side of her | fond and devoted husband, and roam through the : romantic scenes which abound in that famed island. Jjt7*Tn Egypt a physician, according to Ilerodo i tus, never attempted the onre of but ono malady. Every disease had its especial doctor, who devoted himself to that alone. What a contrast to our “uni ’ vernal doctor !” In China a physician receives no fee until the patient is cured. If such a rule were * followed here, how many of our doctors would be ‘_pj.lt of the JjOniJl in o c*..- —• *— * ‘ r '~ S JAMES T. BLAIN,