Newspaper Page Text
wfitting was her father s a tremu
lous, altered hand, but * t!l1 llis *
Her own trembled violent.y as she
broke the seal. It was hke listen
ing to a voice Irons the < n<.. L *
father had then,been tlmik.ng of her
in her absence. He had. m all pro
bability asked for the old wr.ling
desk/and deposited the packet
there himself. ‘Vasil likely that
these papers would disclose what
was the meat harden ol Ins soul in
relation m hcselb-thnt burden
which had sunk tin uttered on his
clo-bii” lips; and was the grave
~1,0,11 render that burden up V
Klin opened the seals with silent
si we. She was afraid to be alone,
and vet would not have admitted
anv one to her confidence for worlds.
The first paper which she uufold
ed was written like the rest in her
father’s hand, though scarcely legi
ble. Short, broken, and unfinish
ed sentences indicated painfully
the failing strength of him who had
struggled hard to leave some record
of affectionate counsel !<>r his child.
“Counsel left too late,’’ were words
which more than once arrested her
glance.
This, and “If l had only begun
in time,” were expressions which
the writer often used, and, ‘* 1 see
it all now ; 1 see what I might have
done when it is 100 laic. I ought
to have tried more to make you it
good girl, Ella; good in the best
sense; not onl v good to me. I was
too well satisfied with that, and with
having you about me. ! was pleas
ed with your gentle loving ways,
and allowed these to beguile me
into a belief that it was sufficient
to be good, as you were good. But
1 set* ilall now, Ella —l see what a
seltish father 1 have been, bringing
you up to serve me, rather than to
serve Cod—to make you pleasant to
me, rather than acceptable in the
sight of vour Heavenly Fathei,
through means, of his own appoin
ting. There is it small bible, Ella,
in which i have written your name,
in the left-hand drawerof my secre
tary. Keep lital always about you,
read it night and morning, and
sometimes in the day,when you feel
perplexed, or cast down. Let it be
a light to your path, when l shall
no longer he near to guide you.
You will find, on the reading of my
will, Ella, that your mother and you
are left in the possession of consi
derable wealth, especially you, on
your coming of age. Do not Jet
ibis make you proud, or confident.
It wall bring about you many flatter
ers, and many false friends. You
will have many temptations, my
child, in consequence of your beau
ty, and this wealth will increase
them a hundred-told. I see no
safety for you, humanly speaking,
but to place yourself under the pro
tection of one real friend ; and may
your Heavently Father, when l am
gone, help you to find one will be
more faithful than 1 have been—
more loving or more tender 1 do not
Blink that any man, even your hus
band, can be. Thus far, you will
perceive, l speak of human safe
guards, but beyond and about this
you will need, in the married state,
as much as in any other, the comfort
and support of that blessed book,
and of prayer to God that he will
keep your feet from slipping. 1
have always found you, Ella, more
moved bv affection and gratitude
than by reasoning ; think, then, how
much h is been done for you to re
deem yon from the love and the
power of evil—that God sent Ins
beloved Son into the world to save
you—to save me—to save the
world. Does not that strike your
heart, Ella, and will you not then be
saved ?”
Here the writer had left off ns it
seemed, for some days, all the pa
pers being dated. He had begun
again in a feeble, uncertain, and al
most illegible hand—“A h ! mv own
Ella, you stay long away. I am
sinking—sinking ! Come hack, iny
child, that 1 may lay my hand once
more upon your beloved head, and
give von mv blessing before J de
part. I have much Buffering, Ella,
but still much kind attention, and
much to be thankful for ; vet I want
vou ne;tr me. 1 begin to think you
must bo very ill, that you do tmt
come—if you knew how constant
ly I wish for you, and listen for
your step —even in the dead of
night sometimes I think you steal
past mv curtains, and it is always
some other, person, or a shadow—
never mv own precious child.
New friends, Ella, cannot want you
as 1 want you. When you read
diese lines, you will reproach your
self more than I now reproach vou.
If 1 give you pain, it is only as 1 I
xxould give vou bitter but healing
medicine. For your sake, Ella, 1
have praved that my life might be
prolonged, now that my eyes are in
some measure opened ; because 1
feel that I have not done a father’s
duty to you—not a Christian father’s
—and I lain would redeem the past.
But it is too late, now. If you do
not come quickly, 1 shall be gone.
Come, than, rny beloved child!
lie kind to your mother, Ella—
be patient with her, and respectful,
she has never left me night nor day.
Think otien of her great goodness ;
as little as may be of her faults.
lAlw; has never left me through my
lo.Qg illness, though 1 have been a
great trouble and a wearisome
charge to her.”
“ She has never left me.” Ella
repealed these words to herself,
as the tears streamed down her
cheeks. **My poor father, It was 1
who left you —left you, too, for pas
time and pleasure —made false ex
cuses to remain away fiom you, and
only came back when it was too
Infer
Overwhelmed by her emotions,
Ella, felt almost as if the cold clav
—the image of her lost father would
respond to her expressions of agony
and love. Silently she stole into
his room. There was now no fear
in her heart, only a profound awe ;
but even that gave place to more
acute sensations of tenderness and
regret, as she cast herself down up
on her knees beside the bed on
which the senseless figure lay ex
tended. It was still some satisfac
tion to be near what was once her
father, to bury her head in the dra
pers'of his bed, to shut out even
the dim light which stole into the
room, and to sot> as she would have
sobbed upon his bosom, had it still
retained the warmth and the con
sciousness of life.
No human being can have been
made to feel as Ella felt, while
weeping beside the lifeless form of
her father, without being either the
better or the worse for it ; it the
good resolutions then formed are
deep and permanent ; worse, it so
much real has been experienced
without any practical results, it so
much discipline has been under
gone without, anv real improvement
of heart and character. Ella be
lieved that she was belter, and she
rose from her lowlv posture with a
countenance of calmness and sol
emnity which might well have jus
tified the same bel.ef in other
minds, had there been any eye to
behold the deep beauty of her face,
illumined, as it seemed, just then,
with rays of light from a higher
and a purer world. The first thing
she did was to turn towards the
secretary, where the Bible, to
which her father had directed her,
was to be found. In that stillness
which the presence of death makes
always doubly still, every move
ment, every footfall, would have
sounded startling to her ear al anv
other time. But fear had no place
amongst her feelings now. Why
should she fear ? bent as she was
upon a course of duty, and deter
mined as she was, henceforward,
through the whole course of her
life, to do right? She had prayed,
100, very long and very earnestly
by the side of her father. She
doubted not but her prayer had
been heard —why should she fear?
Thus she opened the drawer in
which the Bible had been placed
by her father’s hand, took out the
book, returned to her own room,
and there, instead of endeavouring
to refresh herself by necessary
rest, did nothing but read in the pa
ges of that precious volume until
the time when the different mem
bers of the family were heard mov
ing about below, and the whole
household was again engaged in
C? O Q
die business of another clay.
llow far Ella’s thoughts during
ihis lengthened reading were col
lected, and profitable to herself
j can only be inferred from her after
| life. Certain it was, that she ap
i penred to everv one about that time
; to be more serious in her general
i deportment, more fond of being
alone in her own chamber, and al
together a more arid sedate contem
plative character than she had ever
been before. If she wept less than
might have been expected of a
daughter under her circumstances,
especially on the day of the funeral,
the absence of her tears was abun
dantly made up for by the extreme
gravity of her countenance, and by
a certain readiness to reprove those
who were less serious than herself;
such as is not tin frequently manifes
ted in connection with suddenly ac
quired goodness. Even those violent
outbursts of grief to which her moth
er was liable, partly owing to natur
al temperament, but greatlv increas
ed by long watching and fatigue,
were not observed by Ella without
some attempt at correction if not ac
tually at reproof. All such outbursts
appeared to her just now both ex
travagant and inappropriate, as
calculated to be neither pleasing to
the dead, nor profitable to the liv
ing ; and she felt it right even to
extend to her mother a little sage
advice as to their future mode of
living, and those many changes in
their habits which she spent much
of her time in contemplating, and
arranging according to her present
views of duty.
But all this new exercise of mind
and feeling was not to be gone
th r t j-,b by one so young, without
some risk to bodily health, more
especially as Ella had imbibed the
idea that to shut herself in her own
room was a much more meritorious
line of conduct than to take exer
cise in the open air, or even to busy
herself in any other active occupa
tion. Thus the colour faded from
her cheek, the brightness from her
eye ; and the doctor whose services
werer eally needed by Mrs. More,
strongly recommended that both
mother and daughter should make
the experiment of change of air and
scene, in order to the restoration of
their health and spirits.
In compliance with this recom
mendation, many enquiries were set
on foot by Mrs. More, in the hope
of ascertaining which was the most
salubrious air, and altogether the
most desirable situation for a tem
porary residence, afforded by her
native country; for though urged
bv many of her friends to travel,
Mrs. More was too entirely a do
mestic woman to listen to any
schemes of foreign intercourse, or
residence, with the slightest idea of
being able to sustain the personal
inconvenience incident to fife en
dured any where but in an English
home.
It is quiie probably that the set
tlement of this question about
change of scene, might have been
as difficult as that of her daughter’s
education had been, had not a re
cent acquaintance, made during the
season of her deep sorrow, proved
the means of a bias being givon to
wards the southern coast of Eng
land ; and after many deep and
lengthy consultations held with ma
ny friends, the beautiful scenery
of Devonshire was fixed upon as
being the most inviting from a var
iety of causes; in the first instance
because Mrs. More bad a prevail
ing belief in the necessity of
warmth and good nursing for all
diseases both of mind and body ;
and in the second place, because
the coast of Devonshire had alrea
dy been chosen as the residence of
a certain clergyman to whom Mrs.
More was strongly attached, and of
many of the members of a certain
.set, or circle of friends by whom
he was usually surrounded.
In the hope of being brought again
into association with this excellent
man, and with the dear Belling
hams, and the delightful Greys,
Ashleys, and many others, of in
estimable value, as Mrs. More be
lieved, to her own immortal inter
ests, she drew from her daughter a
reluctant consent that this privile
ged spot of earth should be the
place of their destination. Not
that Ella objected to the place it
self ; but she had conceived a per
fect horror of her mother’s new ac
quaintances, and especially of a
certain M ss Ma who. amongst
these many dear and excellent peo
ple, appeared to be the dearest, and
the most excellent of all. Mrs.
More, it is true, had enjoyed no op
portunity ot making personal ac
quaintance with the parties so
highly eulogized, farther than a
few calls from Miss Mason, during
which they and their separate but
abundant merits had been verbally
introduced ; but she had kindly
taken them all on trust, believing
implicitly in Miss Mason’s eloquent
descriptions ; and she now looked
forward to the cultivation of an in
timate acquaintance, as the only
hope of pleasure, or of benefit of
any kind, which was left to her in
life.
Within about two months of the
time of Mr. More’s death, the wid
ow and her daughter set out then
lor their new’ home, the mother
greatly cheered and comforted by
anticipations of the agreeable socie
ty to be met with there ; the daugh
ter wrapped in a gloomy kind of
sadness, which admitted not a
single cheering ray from any earth
ly hope.
(Continued next, week )
A Jack's Hensons for not, Getting
Married. —An old “Jack-tar” was
asked why he did not gel married,
and replied :
“ It’s just this ; When 1 was a
younker not more than eighteen, I
came athwart as snug a little craft
nseverrun afore the wind. 1 bore
up and hove-to alongside and spoke
her as she showed friendly colors.
Well we sailed in company awhile
and finally she said she’d let me
convoy her through the voyage of
life. So l consents and lavs in
stores, gets anew rig, below and
aloft, and started for the parson to
splice us. Well commodore—
would you believe it ?—just as we
were entering the straits of the
church, a light cruiser came ath
wart our course, and running down,
spoke her. The chap proved to be
an old erasing companion of her’s
that she thought had gone to Davy’s
locker. So he asked her to heave
to and come under his lee. She
castoff’ her hawsers from me, and.
before I could understand the man
oeuvre, she was under his quarter.
I went into action at once to try to
recover her, and we fought about
six-minutes, when he struck. The
shecraft then up-helm, and scud
afore the wind, and was soon hull
down. I then bore up to repair
damages: and ever since then,
your honor, I’ve been cruising with
out a consort.”
Wouldn't do it. — We saw a drunk
en man, a few evenings since, try
ing to get a watchman to arrest his
shadow. His complaint was that an
ill-looking scoundrel kept following
him.
There was once a man who was
reduced to such extreme poverty,
that in a fit of desperation he adver
tised that he would hang himself on
a certain day, at some well known
place for the benefit of his wile and
children. Admittance one shilling.
O
\_From the Albany Rechabitc .}• Washingtonian. ]
INFLUENCE OF EARLY ASSOCIA
TIONS.
THE m.n CRIMINAL REFORMED.
There is a strange, unaccounta
ble, and dreamlike beauty in music,
which can subdue the proudest
spirit, and gliding into the hush of
the heart, will nestle there, stilling
its more tumultuous throbbings, and
filling it with calm, peaceful memo
ries of the far lo'ng-ago. All tribes
and in all times have owned the
spell, from the hour when Pan first
taught Ihe Thracian shepherd to
carve his love-r.otes in the invisible
air, and fill the summer nights with
softest, sweetest flute-music down
to the present moment.
It is a universal language, under
stood by all, and awakening strange
pulsations even in the most obdurate
heart. Most ot us have experienced
the luxury of tears when listening
to an old ballad.
We know an old man who, hav
ing led a long career of vice and
crime, was at length banished from
his country; and who while under
going his period of banishment,
amidst the wilds and jungles of a
distant land, heard, in the summer
eventide, a sweet female voice, sing
ing in his own language the very
song which had lulled him to his in
fant slumbers, when he knew crime
but by name, and knew it only to
abhor. It. had been sung, too, by
the cradle of an infant sister—a
little one who had died young, and
was now in heaven ; the mother,
too, was now’ no more. But the
song —the old song had not lost its
influence over him yet. Back came
trooping upon the old memories,
which had so long slumbered down
there in the unsunned depths of his
heart; the mother and the father;
the household gatherings; the old
books; the old school-house; the
time worn church, half-hidden bv
the old vew trees, where he first
heard the Bible read; —all came
back upon him as fresh as if it were
but yesterday ; and overpowered
by his feelings, he gave vein to them
in a flood of tears. And then the
old man grew’ calm, and his latter
days were his best days ; and when
the term of his banishment had ex
pired, he came back again to bis
father-land, and there, in that old
village grave-yard, amid whose
grassy hillocks he had first played
and gamboled, and where the
mother and her little ones w'ere
sleeping, he lay down his weary
limbs, and sank peacefully aw'ay into
the common grave.
LADIES’ WAISTS.
Mrs. JSwisslielm, in a savage ar
ticle against llie magazine fashion
plates, says
“We 1 mow women now who are
dying; dying by their own hands,
and piously saving their prayers
every day, and for their death the
Magazine publishers are accounta
ble atthe bar of the Eternal. They
are murdering them as truly as ever
David slew Uriah by the sword of
the Amelekrtes. No human agency
can leach these victims of fashion
plate mongers, that the long whale
bones sticking down in their sides,
the tight tied strings tied round the
small of the buck, and weight of
skirts dragging on them, are crush
ing their lives out,and dragging
them to t heir graves. They will not
believe they are entailing misery,and
disease, and death upon their chil
dren. But yet many of them do
know’ it, and with all their vaunted
love for their offspring, would rather
see their little ones suffer the thous
and deaths than that they them
selves should fail to look ‘like Pro
methixs in mv picture here’—a
long sided funeral set on a jug.”
A Newspaper. — It was Bishop Ho
mer’s opinion that there is no bet
ter moralist than a newspaper. He
says, “The follies, vices and conse
quent miseries of multitudes dis
played in a newspaper, are so many
beacons continually burning to turn
others from the rock on which they
have been shipwrecked. What
more powerful dissuasive from sus
picion ; jealousy and anger, than
the story of one friend murdered bv
another in a duel ? What caution
likely to be more effectual against
gambling and profligacy, than the
mournful relation of an execution
or the fate of a dispairing suicide?
What finer lecture on the necessity
of economy, than the auctions of es
tates, houses and furniture ? Only
take a newspaper, and consider it
well— pay for it, read it — and it will
instruct thee.
The Printer. —Many men, who
have acquired great fame and ce
lebrity in the world, began their
career as printers. Sir William
Blackstone, the learned commenta
tor on laws, was a printer by trade.
King George ill learned the art,
and frequently set type after he
ascended the throne of England.—
We scarcely need mention Frank
lin, for it is well known to all who
are familiar with his name, that he
was a printer. Alexander Camp
bell, the greatest Theologian that
ever lived is a printer. Gentlemen
of the “Craft,” these are gratifying
facts ; but let us not be content that
they alone be held up to the credit
ot the profession—let us honor our
selves, and do all we can to keep up,
and elevate still higher, the charact
er of our beautiful art.
The Oldest Davfiller. —The de
portment of the older children of
the family isof great importance to
the younger. The obedience, or
insubordination, operates through
out the whole circle. Especially
in the station of the eldest daugh
ter one of eminence. She drank
the first draught of a mother’s love.
She usually enjoys much of her
counsel and companionship. In
her absence she is the natural vice
roy. Let the mother take double
pains to inform her on a correct
model; to make her amiable, dili
gent, domestic, pious—trusting
that the image of those virtues
may leave impressions on the soft,
waxen hearts ot the young ones, to
whom she may, in the providence
of God, be called to fill the place of
maternal guide.
Au Affecting Incident. —The Nevv-
Orleans Crescent, in noticing the
celebration of the Bth of January
in that city, records the following
affecting incident:
On the platform in Lafayette
Square, before the oration commen
ced, an aged negro, who served in
the battle of New-Orleans, ap
proched General Lacostein the most
respectful manner, exhibited a por
tion of the ornaments of an English
officer’s uniform, “This,” said the
veteran, ‘T took from the body of a
dead Englishman on the battle-field
of Chalmette. Your father com
manded me, and 1 want you but
just to put your hand upon it, that
1 may say that a son of my old and
much loved commander had touch
ed it.” Gen. Lacoste, with emo
tions he could not conceal, gratified
the wish of the veteran, and the old
fellow, with jov in liis countenance,
carefully wrapped up his trophy,
and placed it in his bosom.
Italian Banditti—Weakness of the
Papal Government. —The band of
the noted brigand, II Passatore, still
infests the road of the Romagna and
the chain of the Appenines adjoin
ing Tuscany. The villages, and
even the small towns, are besieged
and laid under contributions by
these audacious bandits, who set all
the forces sent against them at de
fiance. The environs of Rome are
not even exempt from similar a
larms. Four or five small bands
have been formed, and,from time to
time.stop and rob passengers. Last
week, Major Alai, of the gendarme
lie, who was in a carriage with some
other passengers, was completely
stripped in the neighborhood of
Monte Rosa. At Viler be, a medical
man, well known for bis opinions in
favor of ihe Pope, was killed by a
musket shot, at the moment he was
entering his house.
Them's ‘Em —-“I say, captain,’
said a little keen-eyed man, as he
landed from the steamer Potomac
at Natchez, ‘lsay, these here ain’t
all.’
‘Them's all the plunder you
brought on board, anyhow.’
‘ VVell, see now, I grants its O K
according’ to the list—four boxes,
three chests, two ban’ boxes, a port
manty, two barns, one part cut,
three ropes o’ ingians, an’ a teaket
tle; but you see, captain, I’m duber
some ; 1 feel there’s somethin’ short.
Tho’ I’ve counted them over nine
times an’ never took my eyes off’
’em while on board, there’s some
thin’ not right, somehow.’
‘ Well stranger, time’s up ; them’s
all I know on ; so just fetch out
your wife an’ five children out of
the cabin, as I’m off.’
‘Them’s ’em! them’s ’em! 1
know’d I\l forgot something !’
Tali him awa, —An old Scotch la
dy, not very familiar with the Bard
of Avon, wanted some prints. A
friend, who had a collection, pre
sented her with some. She soon
came across a likeness of Shak
speate.
‘Weel, and what is that?’ she
asked.
‘Oh,’ was replied, ‘that is Sbak
spare before Sir Thomas Lucy.’
‘Weel,’ added the old dame, ‘but
what’s he doing?’
‘Doing,’ said her friend, ‘he’s been
taken up for stealing.’
‘Tak him awa, fake him awa,’ex
claimed the old lady, ‘l’ll ha no sic
a fellow in my house.’
A Trick. —A man in Connecticut
obtained a winter’s supply of ex
cellent potatoes in the following
cute manner. He gave out word
be was desirous of obtaining a
specimen of the best sort of pota
toes, and would pay S3 for a peck
of such, b imself to be the judge.
Potatoes poured into his cellar
from all the country round, and
when the avalanche had subsided,
the man handed over his S3 for the
best peck, and the next spring sold
potatoes enough to more than cover
he orginal outlay, besides havingt
had a first quality article for home
use all winter.
A Birth Tree. —When a native
of Java has a child born, he im
mediately plants a cocoa-tree, which,
adding a circle every year to its
bark, indicates the age of the tree, ]
and therefore the age of the child.
The child, in consequence, regards 1
the tree with affection all the rest of j
its life, and that tree the woodman |
always spares.
A Quaker's Letter. —Friend John,
I desire thee to be so kind as to go to
one of those sinful men in the flesh,
called attorneys, and let him take
out an intsrument with a seal there
unto. by means whereof we may
seize the outward tabernacle of
George Green, and bring him be
fore the lamb-skin men at West
minster, and teach him to do as he
would be done by.—Thy friend,
R. G.
The Girls. —Not long since a mar
riage was to be celebrated in the
village church. The minister, after
making a very eloquent and touch
ing discourse ou the duties and
rights of those who were to be mar
ried will please rise, “and immed
’ iately after there shot up, above the
seated multitude, the heads of a
crowd of young girls, who had un
derstood the remarks which was ad
dressed to the contracting parties,
as a general inkitation to all who
were desirous to leave the selfish
state of single blessedness.— Bath
(Me.J Tribune .
A Bishop's Wish. —A gentleman
was complaining to a pious prelate
that a certain clergyman in his
. neighborhood was gone mad, for
that he did nothing but preach and
pray. “I wish, then,” said the good
bishop, “he would bite some of :ny
clergy.”
THE FRIEXD OF THE MUR,
SAVANNAH, FEBRUARY 8, 1851.
The Republican Blues Building and
Loan Association was organized on Thursday
Evening, the 6th iust. Eight hundred and
twenty-five shares of the Stock was sub
scribed for. The following gentlemen were
elected officers for the ensuing year :
JNO. C, NICOLL, President,
JNO. W. ANDERSON, Treasurer,
EDWARD G. WILSON, Secretary.
Directors :
Thomas Purse, Jos. S. Fay,
A. A. Solomons, Wm. Battkrsbt,
Danl. H. Stewart, Jno. Oliver.
Grand Division S. of T. of Alabama.
We have received a copy of the proceed
ings of the last Annual Meeting of this board*
held at Montgomery, on Wednesday, Thurs
day, Friday and Saturday, the 23d, 24th,
25th and 26th of October, 1850.
The perusal of tho Report afforded us
much pleasure, and we are happy to say the
Order is in a healthy condition and its bor
ders are enlarging. The Committee on Re
turns, owing to the imperfect manner of
. some, and the total neglect ot other Divisions,
were not nWe to report the usual Statistics
of the Order. This state of things gener
al y exists in all newly formed legislative
bodies, audit requires stringent rules prompt
ly enforced to insure order and regularity.
The Grand - Scribe’s Report, which is the
first document ot importance in the proceed
ings, is well written and very explicit. He
say 8 :
‘‘Since the semi-annual session held at
Marion, back returns from sixty Divisions
have been received, with the per centage
due at the end of the quarter July Ist.
Nineteen charters have been issued for the
establishment of new Divisions in various
parts ot the State, and for the quarter end
ing October Ist, 173 Divisions have made
returns, and sent up their per centage
From these may he observed an increase in
the Order by initiations, but it is to bo re
gretted that so fearful a number of suspen
sions are recorded for the non-payment of
dues. ‘I lie M. W. S., Bro. Fickbardt,
brought this subject before the National Di
vision in these words: ‘The number of sus
pensions and expulsions for non-payment of
dues, calls tor the jealous inspection of the
National Division, as doubtful in policy and
dangerous ou temperance principles. ’ Tho
committee to whom the subject was leforred
reported the following resolution, which was
postponed :
‘Resolved, That from and after the first
day ot October, 185 U, a member of a subor
dmato Divisiouss m linear for dues to tiie
amount ot four dollars shall not be entitled to
receive any benefits until two months after
lie shall have become clear of the books, and
shall not he eligible to fill any office or vote
on any appropriations, and that the rule re
cognising the suspension or expulsion of
members for the non-payment of dues be
and the same is hereby repealed. 1
“ Viewing ns I do the importance of every
subordinate Divisions fostering its members
as long as they remain faithful to the pledge,
it is to be regretted that any subqLlmate
Division still retains power of drivii® from
within its benign influence one who perhaps
from circumstances may be unable to per
form his duty in this respect, driving him
thereby more than propable into habits of
vice and intemperance. It is true that the
collection of dues from its members by sub
ordinate Divisions as per the returns shows
great derilection of duty, yet it would be
better to submit to tho smaller evil, than that
of thrusting from our midst, a member who
in every other respect would be an orna
ment to tho Order.”
We heartily concur with the G. S. in his
opinion on this subject; wo do not believe in
expelling members for non-payment of dues.
Suspeud them from the benelits and honors
of the Order, —but, we are no advocate for
expulsions for any cause , not even for Ai't.
2. We will give but one argument in favor
of our position, and pass on, but beg to say
that our columns are open to the discussion
of this point, and we are ready to break a
lance in its favor. When the Lord was
asked by Peter, •* If my brother offend
against me, how oft shall I forgive him, till
seven times ?” He replied, “ I tell thee nay,
but till seventy times seven.”
The financial condition of the Grand Divi
sion as reported by the Treasurer, shewed
the amount on hand after deducting current
expenses during the recess, to be $445.23.
The G. W. P.’s address is a short but able
document, and his recommendations were
favorably received by the Grand Division
We will only advert to one of them for the
purpose of adding a proposition of our own.
“ 1 would also respectfully suggest to the
G. D., that at its present Session a commit
tee be appointed to solicit voluntary contri
butions for the purpose ot erecting in some
one of onr principal cities a magnificent
.Tempei ance lemple; such a ouo as may
rivet the gaze of the stranger and traveler
of the 0 1 U,ler r t, T ‘Z° rdsthe Permanency
ot the Order of the Sons of Temperance *
Resolved, That the Committee
ed m the third resolution of tho Committee
o, he ,K,d „r lho Order, be instructed b,
explain to those tro m whom they may solicit
contnbut.ousfor the Temperance Hall, th„
the design of the Grand Division is to erec
sa.d budding such place and manner that
rents and profits shall accrue from it to the
1 reasuty of the Grand Division, n d that
such rents and profits after defraying the
expenses of said building, shall be appropri
ated to educational and charitable purposes,
among the Sons and Daughters of Temper
ance, and their children ns may hereafter be
more fully determined by the Grand Divi
sion. And further, that the location of the
building will be in the City contributing most
largely in proportion to its population.”
Asa contribution to this Temple we will
givo Twenty-five cents for every subscriber
to our paper in the State of Alabama, and if
Brother A. P. Pfistkr will become our gen
eral Agent and the D. G. W. P.’ s special
Agents, we will allow them the usual 25
per centage exclusive of this contribution ;
at the same time we disclaim any desire to
interfere with the rights or interests of the
Crystal Fount or any other paper in their
own State.
A series of appropriate Resolutions were
passed on the death of the late Grand Trea.
surer, John M. Jackson.
The following are the names of the offi
cers elect for the present year :
Rev. Hartwell H. Brown, of Mooresville
G. W . P. t B. 8. Bibb, of Montgomery, fi,
W. A.; Amarid P. Pfister, of Montgomery,
G. S. ; T. J. Russell, of Dudleyville, G.T..
Rev. N. G. Philips, of Shiloh, G. C.; Oliver
H. Oates, of Florence, G. C.; F. A. Tan
kersley, of .Mobile, G. S.
The election of Delegates to the Nation
al Division, to be held at Toronto, on 3d
June, 1851, are as follows :
Geo. D. Sbortridge, of Montevallo, P. G.
W. P.; Richard H. Powell, of Chunnenug
gee, P. G. W. A. ; J. McCaleb Wiley, of
Troy, P. G. VV • P. : Rev. H. 11. Brown, of
Mooresville, G. W. P.; Finch P. Scruggs,
of Decatur, P. G. W. A.; W. B. Haralson,
of Benton, P. G. W. A.; M. W. Creagh,.
of McKinley, P. G. W. P.
A resolution was passed approving the ac
tion of the National Division on the subject
of admitting persons of color into the Order.
Tho Committee on Cadets reported that
there were 26 Sections working under the
care of the G. 1). and recommended that no
per centage should be taken from their re
ceipts, which very judicious measure was
adopted.
A resolution was passed recommending
that a great mass Meeting of the friends of
Temperance be held at Athens, in the Ten
nessee Valley, during the ensuing year.
We shall, at an early day, publish the an
nual address of Bro. R. 11. Powell, G.
W. A.
In conduson we would ask what has be
come of the proceedings of the Grand Divi
sion of our own State, are they out of Press ?
If they are will Bro. Williford send us a.
copy.
Reported for The FrienJ <t the Family..
Ceremony in the Catholic Church on
Last Sunday.
The ceremony of taking possession of the
See ot Savannah, by the Right Rkv’d,
Bishop Gaktland, was gone through on
Sunday last, in a novel and imposing manner.
The Prelate, with his attendants in peculiar
robes, proceeded from the vestry room of
the Church, outside to the middle front en
trance, where the Pastor of the Church,
Rev. J. F. O’Neill, met the procession.—
The Pastor, accompanied by young lads, hold
ing tapers,holding a large cross with the figure
of a crucified Saviour attached thereto, salu
ted the Bishop, and presented to him the cross
and figure, which the latter embraced. The
entire procession afterward moved in solemn
motion up the middle isle towards the altar
chanting aTe Deum Laudamus. On enter
ing the sanctuary within the railing, another
ceremony was performed and prayers reci
ted. The Bishop and his attendants then
retired into the Sacristy, and again appeared
in different robes at the foot of the altar. —
After a short prayer which was recited in
common by all, the Bishop repaired ton plat
form or throne prepared for the occasion, on
what is called the ‘‘Gospel side” of the
altar, whilst the Choir performed its part in
singing some exquisite pieces of Sacred Mu
sic. About the middle of the service tho
Bishop preached an appropriate sermon,
which was really impressive. He explained?
the nature and responsibility of the Office
he had undertaken, and acknowledged his
own unworthiness of the dignity, which,
without his intervention, he was clothed
with. To enable him to discharge the im
portant duties of the Office, he besought
the prayers of all present, whom lie was
appointed to instruct and to govern according
to the rules and constitution of the Roman
Catholic and Apostolic Church.
lie then explained tho nature of the ven
eration, “or worship if you j>lease ,” which
the Church renders to the Ever Blessed
Virgin, Mother of God, and alluded in a
very happy manner to some incidents in In*
own life corresponding with the festivals set
apart by the Church in honoring the Blessed
Virgin.
The rest of the services was gone through
in a very solemn and imposing manner. Be
fore the conclusion, the Rev. Father O’Neill
explained the nature and grounds of an In*
dulgence, which the Bishopi by virtue ol bis
authority, derived from tho Holy See (of
Rome) dispersed to the congregation. The
entire ceremony was striking and very so
lemn, and no doubt made a salutary impres
sion on all present. The robes worn on the
occasion were gorgeous and brilliant, such as
we never before witnessed.
In the afternoon, the Vesperal Service
was performed, at which the Bishop again
presided, with his ministers, with robes such
as were worn in the forenoon. The natuitf
of the Sacrifice of the Mass, and the doctrine
of the real presence, ns believed by Kotuaw
Catholics, were treated of by Bishop
land. The Bishop is a plain looking, ami
spoken man ; bland in appearance, ande* e O
way calculated to win the respect of °* ir
citizens, and tho affection of his own
We wish him God speed.