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JOHN IIEMFSEALS,) **o} > Editors, ,L LJNCOLN/VEAZEY, ) #}RIES, YOL. I. TOIIPI> Aft'Pfl (W *MR I Mil MiilujJl tiltoriiflail. J’UDMSUED EVERY SATURDAY, EXCEPT TWO, IN THE YEAR, BY JOHN H. SEALS. TERMS i -M-JJi.. i dvr.* 3ft; or $2,00 at‘the end of the year. RATES OF ADVERTISING. 3 squnro (twelve lines’or le-s) first insertion,. -$i 00 Each continuance, 30 Professional or Business Cards, not exceeding six lines, per year, 3 00 Announcing Candidates for Office, 8 00 V N 1)1 NO ADVERTISEAIIINTB. 1 square, three months, o 00 1 square, six months, - 7 00 ’. square, twelve months, 12 00 2 squares, “ “ 18 00 8 squares, “ 21 00 4 squares, “! “ -23 00 Adyeridsemen ts not marked with the number of insertions, will be continued until forbid, and charged accordingly. JSj*®Merchants, Druggists, and others, may con tract for advertising by the year, on reasonable terms. LEGAL ADVERTIBF.It ENTS. Sale of Land or Negroes, by Administrators, Executors, and Guardians, per square, —* 5 00 Sale of Personal Property, by Administrators, Executors, and Guardians, per square,... 823 Notice to Debtors and Creditors. 8 23 Notice for Leave to Sell, 4 00 / Station for Lo’ters of Administration, 2 75 m Aon for Letters of Dismission from Adm’n. 500 for Letters of Dismission from Guardi anship, 8 25 LKG A L It EQTTIREAIT’J NTS. Sales of Land and Negroes, by Administrators, Executors, or “guardians, are required by Saw to be held on the ft*?. Tuesday in the month, between the hours of ten : h the forenoon and three in the after noon, at the Court House in the County in which the property is s’Ajate. Notices of these sales must be given in a public gazette forty days previous to tho day of sale, b Notices i/r tho sale of Personal Property must be given at ’-N’t ten days previous to the day of sale. Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an Estate must be published forty day*. Notice that application will be made to the Court of Ordinary tor leave to sell Land or Negroes, must >e publiJieriweJpy v for two months. . 1 - *ttera of Administration must be fiOW/uriy days —for Dismission from Admin di monthly, six months —for Dismission from days. Bub..-’, foil Fo eclosure of Mortgage must be pub lished fthrfpforfinir months —for compelling titles from F |?utors or Administrators, where a bond has be rt by the deceased, the full spate of three months. iieations will always bo continued accord ing to these, the legal requirements, unless otherwise ordered. Tho Law of Newspapers. 1 Subscribers who do not give express notice to the contrary, arc considered as wishing to continue their subscription. 2. If fiubacrilrers order the discontinuance of their newspapers, tho publisher may continue to send them until all arrearages are paid. 3. If subscribers neglect or refuse to take their newspapers from the offices to which they are di fcw Ne.l, they are held responsible until they have set tle.’ the bills and ordered thorn discontinued. ■l, If subscribers remove to other places without informing the publishers, and the newspapers are sent to tho former direction, they arc held responsi ble. 5. The Courts have decided that refusing to take, newspapers from the office, or removing and leaving thorn uncalled for, is prima facie evidence of inten tionn]j|.aud. 61‘ffhc United States Courts have also repeatedly decided, that a Postmaster vs ho neglects to perform his duty of giving reasonable notice, as required by the Post Office Department, of the neglect of a per son to't'ikw from tho office newspapers addressed to him, renders tho Postmaster liable to the publisher for the subs N? -lion price. JOB PRINTING, of every description, done with neatness and dispatch, at this office, and at reasonable prices for cash. All orders, in this department, must be addressed to -J. T. SLAIN. ■ - ‘ L PROSPECTUS or Tfis •TMffiSl CRUDER. [quondam] TEMPERANCE BANNER. ACTUATED by a conscientious desire to further the cause of Temperance, and experiencing great disadvantage in being too narrowly limited in spije, by the smallness of out paper, for the publica tion of Reform Arguments and Passionate Appeals, we have determined to enlarge it to a more conve nient and acceptable size. And being conscious of the fact that there are existing in the minds of a large portion of the present readers of the Banner and its former patrons, prejudices and difficulties which can never be removed so long as it retains the name, we venture also to make a change in that par t rui n’. Ii; will henceforth bo called, “THE TEM PF-SANCE CRUSADER.” ’/Jwtbld pioneer of the Temperance cause is des tir.-: djP.’l to .chronicle tho tr.mnph of its principles. It. h .s . iv> V test—passed through the “fiery fur nace. e tb‘‘ “Hebrew children,” re-appeared “wived t\\oneics]Hipcr famine , ■ and, and is still cousing many excel- HW e a'.-dov Is and periodicals to sink, like “bright ©x •ha’.-vduns in the evening,” to rise no more, and it has even heralded the “death struggles of many contem pmv.ries, laboring for the same great end with itself. D lives,” and “waxing bolder as it grows older,” j s Jv'Vvaging an eternal “Crusade” against the “fn fV;rni\ liquor traffic,” standing like the “High Priest” of the Thelites, vrho stood between the people and the plagwc that threatened destruction. pyic rjiyoat the friends, of tho Temperance Cause to give uA their influence in extending the usefulness of the paper. \¥o intend presenting to the public a sheet worthy of all attention and a liberal patronage; for while it is strictly a Temperance Journal , we shall endeavor to keep its readers posted on all the current events throughout tho country. KSgr-Price, as heretofore, sl, strictly in advance. JOHN H. SEALS, Editor and Proprietor. Penfield, G&, Dee. B,lßfio. k jENMA fa faptMrt. ||loi'slit|, Ifitmmirc. (enteral fttfelfigntce, fta, fc For the Temperance Crusader. AN EalSesT APPEAL TO TEMPER ANCE MSN. “Once more unto the breach, my friends, Once more.” In perusing the minutes of the last an nual Session of the Grand Division, Sons of Temperance, of the State of Georgia, I came across several items that attracted my serious attention. In the G. W. P’s lre port, under tho head of “Present state of the Order,” are the following remarks: “that the gradual decline of'the Order for several years past, remains unchecked, ’’ “some few divisions are doing well, and prospering, and some others maintain n creditable standing, without any special signs of prosperity—but too many, by far, have only a nominal existence.” 1 would respectfully ask, why should this be so? — In view of the great good that the “Sons” have already accomplished for the benefit of society, why should this coldness exist in so holy a cause. The good it lias accom plished, is on ly tho pioneer of greater good that remains for it yet to accomplish. We have only effected a “breach” into the en emy’s walls—it remains for us now to storm the fortress. We have had.only mere skir mishes, but the great battle has yet to be fought at the very chi-del of the foe?— What remains for every lover of his coun try, every friend of humanity, every advo cate of religion, pure morals, and every ennobling virtue that should find a homo in every heart? What remains for them to do? Unite in one solid phalanx, immo vable and invincible! Let them do this, and victory will crown their efforts. With out attempting to disparage the claims of any other association, I will briefly de scribe some of the peculiarities of our “Or der,'and reasons why all should enlist, under its banner. The beauty and sublim ity of its ritual challenges the admiration of all, while the nationality of its organi zation should embrace every true lover of his country under the fold of its flag.— Avery “"American' 1 ' 1 ought to be a Son c-f Temperance. I feel proud to-day, that this glorious old “Temperance Ship” was built out of pure American timber. It would he needless for me to attempt to describe the benefit and power of association, for Dims been practically demonstrated time and time again, but as the foe we have to con tend with is both national and social in its character, therefore an association both na tional and social in its organization, should be brought forward to combat the “enemy” with. Such an organization is presented in the Order of the Sons of Temperance. Home—Happiness—Heaven. There is no other three words so mingled in man's existence here on this.earth than these.— Ho may experience the happiness of home, and anticipate the happiness of the iand of bliss. It is the bright dream of maiden hood, and the cherishing hope of manhood Happiness is the great desideratum that the world of mankind is engaged in the search of—and how few, alas! that- find it. It prompts the young man to take the “so cial glass,” ami indulge in the debauche ries of the gaming saloon, and the brothel —for there is an intimate relation between the three—with Iho anticipation that by participating in these midnight orgies and revelries by day he will realize his fondest dreams of happiness—but finds—alas! some times too late—a barbed and blighting ar row beneath the glittering tinsel of vice. Asa general rule, drunkards are very so ciable, and the undue development of this ! principle may be often the fruitful source of their deviation from the path of recti tude. Hence a young man, falling into; these habits and being t he associate of boon companions, where, when assembled to I get her, would often go round the loath some and obscene jest, ought truly think that the pure innocence bis very pre-sene, would breathe contamination, and would seek happiness in illicit pleasures in the , poisonous atmosphere of the habitation <>l “fallen angels.” He might attempt to re ! form, however so heartily, yet ii still a vis itant of these “dark dens” he would fail to make his reformation sure, and soon might be chronicled as like “the dog returned to j bis vomit, and the sow to her wallow.” —j For their influence is in direct opposition i to sobriety, morality and virtue. The as sertion is true “that no society is more prof itable, because none is more refining in its nature and productive of virtue, than that of refined and sensible Females. God en shrined peculiar goodness in the form of Woman, that her beauty might invite, and the desire of her favor personate men’s souls to leave the path of sinful strife for the ways of pleasantness and peace.” “Wo man, a ministering angel” first formed in Eden’s happy bowers as a help meet for man, neither his inferior nor superior.— Cavilling skeptic; dost thou doubt her ben eficial influence upon society; go visit the residence of the married “Benedict” and you can perceive, ere you enter ilia portal of the beautiful cottage, by tho taste dis played iu ,tho beautiful flower-garden that the “guardian angel” of man presides as the “good genius of this retreat,” but enter in, and you will be struck dumb in conyin : cing arguments that meet your astonished I gaze from every apartment of the house, j Then go visit the cheerless and gloomy I abode of the “bachelor” and unwashed lin- J en and buttonlees shirts and dilapidated PENFIEIi). GA.. SATURDAY, JANUARY 12, 1856. shoes, will testify to her absence. I know that in the hands of a “fascinating crea ture” the “sparkling wine-cup” has often lured the young man to drain it, but that lias been numbered among the “things that were,” and Females, understanding their true position, avoid the “eireean cun” as they would the deadly and loathsome rep tile. Females are generally willing t,<> en gage in, and give their influence to any cause that has fbr its object rho advance ment. of their own and the other sex, in tin: paths of morality end virtue. Woman, with “the reason firm, the tern per?ite -mil, endurance, f-resigitr, strength mid skill,” has been, and now is, needed i our temperance halls, to enliven us by hei presence and cheer us by her smiles. Bu : some have objected to their becoming mem hors of our “Order” because ha -ing taken the assertion of the poet, as true, that, “Got for his own wise ends, made man the strongest And tomake amends, made woman’s tongue the long est.” They have consequently become impreg nated with the idea that females canH keep a secret! Such objections sound strange, when coining from those who expect at some time in the future, to pledge their vows to some fair one, and sounds more passing strange when coming from the lips of those who have already “linked t heir for tunes to a pretty maid,” showing the high estimation he held of his better half. But I am afraid that all tirgers of such futile objections as that, may be placed in the category of the little boy, looking through a piece of red-stained glass, to whom eve rything bore the appearance of the same color, and, that their ovrnselves, are the moral microscopic glass through which they view the Female sex, and that it is the re flection of themselves, which tinges with so dark a glow the fair objects of their gaze. Implicit confidence can be placed in wo man. It is false that woman cannot be trusted. There may be some exceptions to this as a general rule, but upon the whole it bears the impress of sacred truth. Tho historic page is fruitful of instances of her trustworthiness, and the days that “tried men’s souls” was witness of her de votion. Look at the drunkard’s wife, how eager she is to hide the marks of her hus band’s brutal chastisement upon her lovely form, from the gaze of humanity, and, who would rather “let concealment, like a worm in the bud, feed on her damask cheek; and, with a green and yellow melancholy, sit like patience on a monument, smiling through her grief” than to expose the secret of her sorrow. The female members of our Or der will have a two-fold effect—rendering great service to their own sex, and causing the division-room to boa second Family Circle, and adding anew attraction to in fluence the other sex to join ns in our la bor and triumph--. Then let these vain oh jections cease, and woman with her sanc tifying’ influence bo found in our councils aiding us in our efforts to further so glori ous a cause, with hearts boating in unison with the purest and noblest that ever throb bed in the breast of humanity. If wo over conquer, it must bo by a concentration of the minds and energies of both sexes, exert ed upon Lie rising generation, the centre of a nations hope. I call upon that aged sire, whose locks have been “whitened by the frosts of time,” and who Ims seen his noble boy—the Last prop of his “old age” —sink into the drunkard’s premature grave —proving a funeral knell to his fondest hopes; and his lovely daughter, perhaps “iho apple of his eye” sink into an early tomb, beneath the weight of woes heaped upon a drunkard’s wife, thus leaving him like the tree of the forest, stripped of its foliage, nothing but the bare trunk remain ing oi‘ its former grandeur; 1 call upon him to say whether, Ihe hope of ultimate suc cess is nor- a sufficient reason for joining our noble “Order.” L “ tho voung wife, who pledged herafi- Ketions at tho sacred altar to the idol ol her Soul, and who has now only ti e Bern blan. e of a man, to call by the dignifie.. ti tle of husband, and who has had her bop. and peace destroyed, and her fondest antic ipations to wither away beneath the touch of the fell destroyer, let her answer, wheth er the hope of victories is not a sufficient reason for all to sustain such an institution, having so holy an object in view. I cal! upon all, both old and young, male and female, married and single, fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, and all those who have an earnest desire for the advancement of truth and religion, and the suppression ‘of vice and iniquity, to join and aid us in this moral-and holy crusade. I would respectfully urge pure innocence who would wish not to be polluted by the loathsome-embrace of sin cursed and wretched humanity, to give ns her counte nance and support in our efforts to eradi cate this “prime source” of misery and woe, from this country which is said to be “the land of thp free, and the home of the brave.” Come one, come all, a hearty welcome you will find to greet your advent amongst its. Come “blooming youth and gay six teen” and aid us in onr great social and fraternal combination, so check the onward progress of tho “fell destroyer.” Come let us add strong triple pillars to the temple of our Empire State, in which, wisdom, jus tice and moderation is claimed to form a conspicuous part, ail cl though we may not be permitted to see the glorious consum mation of our wishes, let m gallantly strug gle on through life, aud dying, breathe a fervent prayer that onr glorious flag may wave in triumph yet, though we may be no more. Hay we vet hope, that the “Amer ican Eagle” will soar to the brightest sum mit of greatness, bathing his pinions in the sunlight of God’s eternal glory, while from his broken crest in living letters shine. Love, ’Purity and Fidelity, our cardinal principles divine. Ten I would earnestly invite ar>l beseech every one to “Arm for the battle of glory Strike for the causo of truth, Fathers with locks so hoary, Sods in tho bloom of youth ! Mothers, and sisters and daughters, With your prayers and blessings comet Death! death I wherever he lurkefh To the serpent whose name is Hum!” W. P„ of No. 7. S e&ectfon m A PASSION. —o BY KATB SUTHERLAND. “Please, sir,” said Hannah, our chamber maid, speaking in a hesitating manner, as if she knew the communication about to be made would produce a disagreeable impres sion. “ Well, Hannah, what is it ?” returned un cle Abel, looking at her over the top of the morning paper, which had proved more at tractive to him than the cup of coffee which he had only tasted, and then left to cool on the table beside him. The expression of the good mail’s countenance showed that he was prepared for something disagreeable. “Mr. Edwards’ girl is at the door, sir.” “Well, what does Mr. Edwards’ girl want now VI The Edwards family were inveterate bor rowej’s, and my uncle was beginning to lose all patience with them. “She says, will you please—” The cham bermaid hesitated. “Lend what ? It’s lend, of course 1” The old gentleman’s face was crimsoning. “I’ll say you’re using it,” replied Hannah, in as'soothing a tone as she could venture to assume. “No you need’nt!” angrily replied my un de. “I don’t want you to put words into my mouth. Tell the girl to tell Mr. Ed wards, that if he wants to read the morning paper, he can subscribe for it, as I do.” Hannah leaked doubtingly at the excited old gentleman. She did not wish to be the bearer of such a message. “D’ye hear?” said uncle Abel, in an im perative voice. Hannah turned and left the room. “Too bad ! Outrageous ! The family is a nuisance !” ejaculated uncle Abel, in an unusually excited manner, “i’ll stop taking the paper, if I am to be annoyed in this way.” And he fluttered the crackling sheet as he threw his hands about him.* i could with difficulty repress a smile, as I looked at the really kind-hearted old man, in his temporary excitement. “Is it well to be angry ?” I said, the mo ment I saw that I could speak to his reason. “Flo, it is not well, Kate,” he answered, in a subdued voice. “It is not well. And I am old enough to know better.” “That was a very rough message you sent to a neighbor.” “Whatdid I say:” The old gentleman looked a little frightened. “Why, you told Hannah to tell the girl to tell Mr. Edwards, that if he wanted to read the morning paper, to subscribe for it, as you did.” Uncie Abel sighed, and looked down upon the floor, with a fixed, absent gaze. His spirit was troubled. “Mr. Edwards appears to be a very gen tlemanly person,” said I. “It isn’t gentlemanly to be forever annov mg neighbors, and coveting their property,” .Gloried uncle Abel,a little sharply. 1 ie was making a feeble effort, at self-justi fication. But it wouki’nt answer. His own conscience was not satisfied. “Perhaps,” said i, “Air. Edwards’ paper failed to reach him.” “I got mine,” was answered. “He may not take the same one.” “it’s no use to argue the matter, Kate, and try to place me in the wrong.” said the old gentleman, warming up. “ihcre’s noihing to justify his conduct.” Well, uncle Abel's breakfast was spoiled tor that morning. He laid down the paper, tasted the cold coffee, and then pu hed the cup away. “Your coffee is cold,” said I. “Let me pour out another cup.” “No, I don’t want any more,” lie answer ed, getting up and leaving the table. vV hat a troublesome thing a quick temper is ; and tho more so, if it leads to hasty speech. Some ol the best hearted people, naturally, are quick tempered. They suf fer, ol course, greatly from their infirmity, but never seem to gain much power over it. Os this class is my excellent uncle, to whose affectionate care I am indebted for a pleas ant home. I noticed that he did not leave the house quite as early as usual, and that as he walk ed, uneasily, the parlor floor, he now and then bent listeningly an ear towards the street. In truth, he was waiting until he was certain that Mr. Edwards had left bonne, so as to run no risk of meeting him. My uncle was, in fact, heartily ashamed ofh.js little outbreak of temper, and fee felt that he must appear very badly in the eyes ol h;s neighbor. It was not an unusual thing for them to meet during the day, and to pass a friendly greeting. How could my uncle look Mr. Edwards in the face, after what had happened ? And, on the oilier hand how would Mr. Edwards treat him, should their paths cross each other during the day ? Poor old gentleman! lie was sorely troubled in consequence of his hasty speech. she day. as he had feared, proved one of serious annoyance. Once he saw Mr. Ed wards, halfa block in advance- and coming towards him. A friendly corner was at hand, and a short turn enable him to escape the unwelcome contact. Again, on entering a store, he saw Mr. Edwards talking with the proprietor. The former did not observe him, and lie qu’etlv withdrew, feeling some thing hkegu.lt in his heart. Once he met Mr. Edwards faco to face. The latter bowed, with his usual politeness, as if noth ing had happened ; and this was to uncle” Abel a most, cutting rebuke. He would have felt better i! Mr. Edward; had met him coldly, or with disdain. The fourth and last time that he came in contact with his neighbor, was late in the afte noon, when he was vvitlfn a few paces of his own house. Mr. Edwards overtook him. and, offering his hand, remarked cheerfully on the state of the weather, and the news of the day As they were parting at our door, Mr. Ed wards drew from his pocket a newspaper, and saitf, as he handed it to my uncle, “I re ceived a late copy of the London Times, to day. It contains an article on the United States, which I am sure will interest you.” “Thank you! Thank you!” stammered uncle Abel, pushing back the paper—“But don’t let me deprive you of the pleasure of reading it,” “Time enough for m<s,” replied Mr. Ed wards. “Time enough for me ; I will enjoy it the more from knowing that its perusal has given you pleasure. So take it—take it —and you can send it in at any time. Good evening!” And Mr. Edwards passed on, leaving the Times with uncle Abel. Now, this was too pointed, and my uncle felt it keenly. He came in looking hurt and depressed, and laid the paper quietly down. I happened to bo standing at the parlor win- I dow, and so heard what passed between the i two gentlemen. My uncle’s state of mind, was, therefore, no mystery to me. “Pretty severely punished,” thought It was all in vain that I tried to win his thoughts from unpleasant reflections; he j answered me only in monosyllables. Even his favorite airs on the piano failed to restore a cheerful shade to his spirits. “Alas !” thought I, “how much of siiffor j ing we draw down upon our own hearts, i These quick tempers and hasty w*ords, how, 1 like little foxes, do they spoil our tender : grapes.” i “Hannah,” said I, as we sat at the tea-ta | hie—uncle Abel had spread the butter on i both sides of Ins breach played with his ; spoon, done, in fact, almost anything but eat ; his supper—“what message did you send to I Mr. Edwards this morning?” Uncle Abel started ; Hannah grew crim son in the face, and stammered forth some thing that neither of us could make out. “What was it, Hannah ?” said I. “I—l—l (old the giri th-that I would send Mr. Edwards the paper in a few minutes.” “You did f” said uncle Abel, in s tone of surprise. “'Ye—yes, sir.” “And why did you say that f* “80-cause, sir, I thought that was what you would say on reflection.” “And did you send the paper in V “Yes, sir, when you was through with it. I hope I haven’t done very wrong.” “No, Hannah,” said the dear old man, get ting up, and assuming almost a respectful; air towards the girl, “you did very right, and I thank you for your kind discretion.” Hannah, relieved in heart, turned away, and glided from the room. Uncle Abel was restored to himself. And I think what ho suffered through that day, has helped him io a little self control. THE VOIOE A3 A ZKHXS&i INSTRU MENT. The human voice is the most perfect an marvellous of musical instruments. Ther would seem to be reasonable cause for rtfs, inasmuch as ir is of divine structure; while; all other instruments are hut of hu man structure —we get them but at second bund. Os one so perfect an instrument each o’ us has been put in possession. It is a free gift to us; we never could have constructed it ourselves; we never could invent any thing like it, or of half so subtle and ex quisite a modulation. On this instrtumnt we are. all of us, instinctive perfbrmeis: and in the Course of years we have learned, thereon, skilfully to play. Nay, more than this, each has learned to play a melody peculiarly his own. By this melody one individual may be distinguished from an other; indeed from, every other human being that breathes —as we should discov er on a nearer study of individual voices. For, as among human faces, though form ed in the same mould and after the same fashion, there are no two, and never have been any two, exactly alike; so among hit man voices, though constructed on a simi lar mechanism, there arc no two that have ever produced precisely the same music. Who taught us this mnsio—whence ’ TERMS: SI.OOJN ADVANCE, J’ JAMES-T.-BLABS. r : PBITTiTEfe. . VOL. Xm-NUIBER 1. 4’ comes it? The words which we set to this music we were taught, of course, mechanic ally. Bnt the nwnc of the words—the tune to which we speak-in short, the in tonation and modulation ofonr voices? This we have, learned ourselves. It is our own music. YYe, individually, com ported it, and do compose it, every time wa speak, perhaps we hare never remarked, or particularly listened; Iq* thi% music.— But our friends have .remarked it, and they know it bv heart; for when they hear us speak, though a wall’ Separate us, and they cm;not distinguish thh words, we arc uttering they know it is onr music they hear, and f.hat of no one eke. If you have never yet listened favour own voices, it may be well-casually to do so: for While y ,u will instantly perceive how different us the music to which each of you speak to that of.any .one, or all of your friends, it may prove, also, of a. certain practical benefit. Fur some persona compose a far pleasanter music when they speak than others. ” — Homv Journal. > LITTLE KESDNESSES. “’fis Sweet to do something for those we love, ’Though -the Ihv- r be ever so sm.ill.” Brothers, sisters, did you ever try the effect which little acts of kindness produce upon that charmed circle we call home?— We love to receive little favors ourselves; and how pleasant the reception of them makes the circle! To draw up the arm chair to get the slippers for father, to watch if any little service can be rendered to .mother, to help brother, or assist sister, how pleasant it makes home! A little boy has a hard lesson given him at school, and his teacher asks him if he thinks he can get it; for a moment the lit tle fellow hangs down his head, but the .next he looks brightly up. “I can get my sister to held me,” he says. That is right, sister, help little brother, and you are bind ing a tic round his heart that may save him in many an hour of dark temptation. “I don’t know how to do this sum, but brother will show mem says another little one. “Sister, I’ve dropped a stitch in my knitting; I tried to pick it up, but it has run downy and I can’t fix if.’’ The little girl’s nice is flushed, and she watches hqr sister with nervous anxiety while site replaces the “naughty stitch.” “O, I am so glad!” she says, as she re ceives if again from the hands of her sister, all nicely arranged; “you are a good girl, Mary.” “Bring it to mo sooner next time, and then it won’t get so bad,” says the gentle voice of Mary, ns the little one bounds away with a light heart to finish her task. If Mary had not helped her she would have lost her walk in the garden. Surely it is better to do as Mary did, than to say “Q, go away, and don’t trouble me;” or to scold the little one all the time yon are performing the trifling favor. Little acts of kindness, gentle words, lov ing smiles, limy shew the path of life with flowers; they make the sun shine brighter, and the green earth greener; and he who bade us “love one another,” looks with fa vor upon the gentle and kind hearted, and ho pronounced the meek blessed. brothers, sisters, love one another. If one offend, forgive and love him still; and whatever may bathe faults of others, we must remember that, in the sight of God, we have other* as great and .perhapsgreat er than theirs. . Behind to the little ones, they will often be fret fill and wayward. Bo patient with them and amuse them. How often a whole family of little ones are restored to good humor by an elder member propo sing some new play, and perhaps joining in it, gathering thorn around her while eh® relates some pleasant-story 1 And brothers, do not think because you are stronger, it i3 unmanly to be gentle to your little brothers and sisters. True no bleness-of heart, and true manliness of conduct, arc never coupled with pride and arrogance. Nobility and gentleness go hand in hand; and when I sec a young gentleman kind and respectful to his mother, and gentle and forbearing to his brothers and sisters. I think he has a noble heart. Ah! many a mother’s mid many a sister’s heart has Ik on wrung by the cold neglect and stiff unkindness of those whom God lias made their natural protectors. Brothers, sisters, never be unkind to one another, never be ashamed to'help one another, never be ashamed to help any one and you will find that’ though it is plea sant to receive favors, yet it is more bless ed to give than to reeiove.— Sunday-School Advocate. ELOQUENT. J. B. Lowell at the close of a recent lec ture on Milton, said: t The noise of those old warfares is hush ed; the song of Cavalier and the fierce psalm of Puritan are silent now; the bands of his episcopal adversaries no longer hold pen or erozier; they and their works are dust; but he who loved truth more than life, who was faithful to the other .world while he did- bis work in this; his seat is in that great cathedral whose far echoing aisles are the Ages, whispering with the blessed feet of the saints, martyrs, and con fessors of every clime and every creed; whose bells sound only ceaturiai hoars;