Newspaper Page Text
JOHN HENRY SEALS, )
t rn.-,.,ri ND /-Editors.
L. LINCOLN YEAZEY, )
NEW SERIES, VOL.’ I.
■r~ . _
TilPilMl dIIBER.
> Pfm.ThHED
EVERY SATURDAY, EXf::?T TWO, Ilf TBE TEAS,
BY JOHN H. SEALS.
TERMS;
s>l,oo, ;n advance; or $2,00 at the end of the year.
HATES OF ADVERTISING.
1 square (twelve lines or le*s) first insertion,. .$1 00
Each continuance, 5Q
Professional or Business Cards, not exceeding
six lines, per year, 0 00
Announcing Candidates for Office 8 O 0
STANDING AGVERTWKMENT9.
1 square, three months, 5 00
1 square, six months, 7 00
1 square, twelve months,. ..12 00
2 squares, “ “ 18 00
3 squares, “ 41 21 00
4
Er^“Advertisements not marked with the number
of insertions, will be continued until forbid, and
charged accordingly.
25^**Mcrchants, Druggists, and others, may con
tract for advertising by the year, on reasonable terms.
LEGAL ADVERTISEMENTS.
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,... 325
Notice to Debtors and Creditors, 3 25
Notice for Leave t.o Sell, 4 00
Citation for Letters of Administration, 2 75
Citation for Letters of Dismission from Adm’n. 5 00
Citation for Letters of Dismission from Guardi
anship, 8 25
LEGAL REQUIREMENTS.
Sales of Land and Negroes, bv Administrators,
Executors, or Guardians, are required by law to be
held first Tuesday in the month, between the
hours of ten in the forenoon and three in the after
noon, at the Court House in the County in which the
property is situate. Notices of these sales must be
given in a public gazette forty days previous to thfl
day of sale.
Notices for the sale of Personal Property must be
given at least ten days previous to the day of sale.
Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an Estate must
be published forty days.
Notice that application will be made to the Court
of Ordinary for leave to sell Land or Negroes, must
be published weekly for tiro months.
Citations for Letters of Administration must be
published thirty days —for Dismission from Admin
istration, monthly , six months —for Dismission from
Guardianship, forty days.
Rules for Foreclosure of Mortgage must be pub
lished monthly for four months —for compelling titles
from Executors or Administrators, where a bond has
be -n given by the deceased, the full spare of three
motiths.
jJjgT*Publications will always bo continued accord
ing to these, the legal requirements, unless otherwise
ordered.
Tlie Law of Newspapers.
1. Subscribers who do not give express notice to
the contrary, are considered as wishing to continue
their subscription.
2. If subscribers order the discontinuance of their
newspapers, the publisher may continue to send them
until all arrearages are paid.
3. Ts subscribers neg’-ect or refuse to take their
newspapers from the offices to which they ai-e di
rected, they arc held responsible until they have set
tled the hills and ordered them discontinued.
4. Ts subscribers remove to other places without
informing the publishers, and the are
sent to the former direction, they are held responsi
ble.
f>. The Courts hove decided that refusing to take
newspapers from the office, or removing and leaving
them uncalled for, is pr Ivin facie evidence of inten
tional fraud.
6. The United States Courts have also repeatedly
decid.d, that a Postmaster who neglects to perform
his duty of giving reasonable notice, as required by
tno Post Office Department, of the neglect of a per
son to take from the office newspapers addressed to
him, renders the Postmaster liable to the publisher
for thsjßttbscriptlon price.
JOB PRINTING,
of every description, done with neatness and dispatch,
at this office, and at reasonable prices lor cash. All
orders, in this department, must be addressed to
J. T. BLAIN.
PROSPECTUS
OF THE
TEMPERANCE CRUSADER.
[qcoxdam]
TEMPERANCE BANNER.
ACTUATED by a conscientious desire to further
the cause of Temperance, and experiencing
great disadvantage in being too narrowly limited in
, space, 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
ticular. It will henceforth be called, “TliE TEM
PERANCE CRUSADER.”
This old pioneer of the Temperance cause is des
tined yet to chropicle the triumph of its principles.
It has stood the test —passed through the “fiery fur
nace,” and, like the “Hebrew children,” re-appeared
unsoMEShed. It has survived the newspaper famine
which has caused, and is still causing many excel
lent journals and periodicals to sink, like “bright ex
halations in the evenintto rise no more, and it has
even heralded the “death struggles of many contem
poraries, laboring for the same great end with itself.
It “still lives,” and “waxing bolder as it grows older,”
is now waging an eternal “Crusade” against the “In
fernal Liquor Traffic,” standing like the “High Priest”
of fne Israelites, who stood between the people and
the plague that threatened destruction,
ATe entreat the friends of the Temperance Cause
to give us their influence in extending the usefulness
of the paper. We intend presenting to the public &
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 the country.
K3i”Prsce, as heretofore, sl, strictly in advance.
* ** JOHN H. SEALS,
Editor and Proprietor.
Penfield, ©a., Dec. 8,1865. .
tljßoitii to Ctmpraitct, fPwalitg, literature, (general Intelligence, Heins, fa.
Selecting*
THE LAST DAYS Os ONE 0?
THE ATROCIOUS JUDGES.
Among the many offenders whose names
were mentioned in the course of these inqui
ries was one who stood alone and unap
proached in guilt and* infamy, and whom
whigs and tories were equally willing to
leave to the extreme rigor of the law. On
that terrible day which was succeeded by
the Irish Night, the roar of a great city dis
appointed of its revenge had followed Jef
freys to the drawbridge of the Tower. Mis
imprisonment was not strictly legal; but he
at first accepted with thanks and blessings
the protection which those dark walls, made
famous by so many crimes and sorrows, af
forded him against the fury of the multitude.
Soon, however, lie became sensible that his
life was still in imminent peril.
For a time he flattered himself with the
hope that a writ of habeas corpus would lib
erate hi n from his confinement, and that he
should be able to steal away to some foreign
country, and hide himself with part of his
ill-gotten wealth from the detestation of
mankind; but, till the government was set
tled, there was no court competent to grant
a writ of habeas corpus; and as soon ns
the government had been settled, the habeas
coipusacX was suspended. Whetherthe le
gal guilt of murder could be brought home
to Jeffreys may be doubted. But he was
morally guilty of so many murders, that if
there had been no other way of reaching his
life, a retrospective Act of Attainder would
have been clamorously demanded by the
whole nation. A disposition to triumph over
the fallen has never been one of the beset
ting sins of Englishmen ; but the hatred of
which Jeffreys was the object was without
a parallel in our history, and partook but too
largely of the savageness of his own nature.
The people, where he was concerned,
were as cruel as himself, and exulted in his
misery as he had been accustomed to exult
in the misery of convicts listening to the
sentence of death, and of families clad in
mourning. The rabble congregated before
his deserted mansion in Duke street, and
read on the door with shouts of laughter the
bills which announced the sale of his prop
erty. Even the delicate women, who had
tears for highwaymen and house-breakers
breathed nothing but vengeance against him.
The lampoons on him which were hawked
about the town were distinguished by an
atrocity rare even in those days. Hanging
would be too mild a death tor him*; a grave
under the gibbet too respectable a resting
place; be ought to be whipped to death at
the cart’s tail; he ought to be tortured like
an Indian ; he ought to be devoured alive.
The street poets portioned out all his joints
with cannibal ferocity, and computed how
many pounds of steak might he cut from his
well fattened carcass. Nay, the rage of his
enemies was such that in language seldom
beard in England they proclaimed their wish
that he might go to the piace of wailing and
gnashing of teeth., to the worm that never
dies, to the fire that is never quenched.—
They exhorted him to hang himself in his
garters, and to cut his throat with a razor.
They put up horrible prayers that ho might
not be able to repent, that he might die the
same hard-hearted, wicked Jeffreys that he
had lived. His spirit, as mean in adversity
as insolent and inhumane in prosperity, sunk
down under the load of .public abhorrence.
Mis constitution, originally bad, and much
impaired by intemperance, was completely
broken by distress and anxiety.
He was tormented by a cruel interna! dis
ease, which the most skillful surgeons of that
age were seldom able to relieve. One so
lace w 7 as left to him —-brandy. Fwen when
he had causes to try and councils to attend,
he had seldom gone to bed sober. Now,
when he had not.ring t<> occupy his mind,
save terrible recollections and terrible fore
bodings, he abandoned himself without re
serve to Iris favorite vice. Many believed
him to be bent on shortening his life by ex
cess. He thought it better, they said, to go
off in a drunken fit than to be hacked by
ketch,or torn limb from limb by the populace.
Once he was roused from a state of ab
ject despondency by an agreeable sensation,
speedily followed by a mortifying disap
pointment. A parcel had been left for him
at the Tower, It appeared to be a barrel
of Colchester oysters, his favorite dainties.
He was greatly moved ; for there are mo
ments when those who least deserve affec
tion are pleased to think that they inspire it.
‘•Thank Goo,” he exclaimed. “1 have still
some friends left ” He opened the barrel,
and from among a heap of shells out tumbled
a stout halter.
ft does not appear that one of the flatter
ers or buffoons whom he had enriched out
of the plunder of his victims came to comfort
him in the day of trouble. But he \yas not
left in utter solitude. John Tutchin, whom
he had sentenced to be flogged every fort
night for seven years, made his way into the
Tower, and presented himself before the
fallen oppressor. Poor Jeffreys, humbled
to the dust, behaved with abject civility, and
called for wine. ‘*l am glad, sir,” he said,
“to see you.” “And lam giad,” answered
the resentful whig, “to see your lordship in
this place.” “I served my master,” said Jef
freys. “I was bound in conscience to do
so.” “Where was your conscience,” said
Tutchin, “when you passed the sentence on
me at Dorchester V* “It was set down in
my instructions,” answered Jeffreys, fawn
ingly, “that I was to show no mercy to men
PENFIELD, GA., SATURDAY, MARCH 1, 1856.
like you. men of parts and courage. When
I went back to court. I was reprimanded
for my lenity.”
Even Tutchin, acrimonious a wai his
nature, and great ae were his wrongq seems
to have been a little mollified by the pitiable
spectacle which he had at first contemplated
with vindictive pleasure He always deni
ed his truth of the'report that he was the
person who sent the Colchester barrel to
the Tower.
A more benevolent man, John Sharp, the
excellent Dean of Norwich, forced himself
to visit the prisoner. It was a painful task,
but Sharp had been treated by Jeffreys in
old times, as kindly as it was in the nature of
Jeffreys to treat anybody, and had once or
twice been able, by patiently waiting until
the storm of curses and invectives had spent
itself, and by dexterously seizing the mo
ment of good humor, to obtain for unhappy
families some mitigation of their sufferings.
The prisoner was surprised and pleased.—
“What!” he said, “dare you own me now?”
It was in vain, however, that the amiable
divine tried to give a salutary pain to that
sacred conscience. J effreys, instead of ac
knowledging his guilt, exclaimed vehement
ly against the injustice of mankind. “Peo
ple call me a murderer for doing what, at
the time, was applauded by some who are
now in high public favor. They call me a
drunkard because I take punch to relieve me
in my agony.” He would not admit that,
as President of the High Commission, he
had done anything that deserved reproach.
His colleagues, he said, were the real crim
inal ; and now they threw all the blame on
him. He spoke with peculiar asperity of
Sprat, who had undoubtedly been the most
humane and moderate member of the board.
It soon became clear that the wicked
judge was fast sinking under the weight of
bodily and mental suffering. Doctor John
Scott, prebendary of Saint Paul’s, a clergy
man of great sanctity, and author of the
Christian Life, a treatise once widely re
nowned, was summoned, probably on the
recommendation of his intimate friend
Sharp, to the bed side of the dying man. It
was in vain, however, that Scott spoke, as
Sharp had already spoken, of the hideous
butcheries of Dorchester and Taunton. To
the last, Jeffreys continued to repeat that
those who thought him cruel did not know
what his orders were, that he deserved
praise instead of blame, and that his clemen
cy had drawn on him the extreme displea
sure of his master.
Disease, assisted by strong drink and mis
ery, did its work fast. The patient’s stom
ach rejected all nourishment. He dwindled
in a few weeks from a portly and even cor
pulent man to a skeleton. On the 18th of
April he died, in the 41st year of his age.—
He had been Chief Justice of the King’s
Bench at 35, and Lord Chancellor at 37
In the whole history of the English bar there
is no other instance of so rapid an elevation,
or of so terrible a fall. The emaciated
corpse was laid, with all privacy, next to the
corpse of Monmouth, in the chapel of the
Tower.— Macaulay*s History of England.
PEEP INTO A WASHINGTON GAMBLING
HOUSE.
The Washington correspondent of the
Cleveland Plaindealer, thus describes a
visit, to a gambling house, and what he
saw and heard there :
“Having heard mnch of the magnifi
tianco and grandeur of the metropolitan,
gambling houses, I, with several Cleve
land friends, paid one a visit the other
night. The entrance was through a nar
row lighted way opening from the avenue,
jnst east of the National. A pair of stairs
at the further end of the hall brings you
abruptly against a small door fastened on
the inside ; yon ring a boll; a colored ser
vant looks through the panel to see if all is
right. If be discovers a well known ens
4>mer or a frequent visitor of such, places
the whole party is admitted, on the prin
ciple, of course, that a ‘person is known
by the company he keeps.’ Gamblers un
derstand human nature better than any
body else. We were admitted first into a
room beautifully carpeted, fresco painted,
with chairs, sofas, lounges, etc., of rose
wood, a large centre table, on which were
the leading newspapers of the country, and
around which sat several well-dressed gen
tlemen, leisurely reading and discussing
the news of the day. This was bnt half of
a double parlor, the reception room, or as
Milton would say ‘the vestibule of hell.’
“Our gnido who is a well-known Wash
ington gentleman, introduced ns to the keep
er of the establishment, telling him that we
had never been in snch a place before, and
was led by cariosity to explore hi 6 internal
domains. He appeared highly delighted,
and immediately opened the ‘inner tem
ple.’ We entered, and found that the half
had not been told ns. A chandelier, cost
ing from three to fonr hundred dollars,
brilliantly lit up, flnng its glittering rays
on gold papered walls, satin damask cur
tains, sofas, &c. In the centre, and near
one end of the room, stood a long six-leg
*ed table, with a richly embroidered spread
falling in folds nearly to the floor; on the
wall over this table Hung a massive gilt
frame, and as large a tinge crouching tiger,
with eyes of glaring fire, lip* apart appa
rently ready for devouring an unsuspec
ting victim. The cloth oeing removed
from the table beneath, revealed the ‘Faro
Bank,’ with all the implements of that welj
kuown fascinating game; ivory ship* rap-
resenting sl, $5. $25, $250 each, the bel
ters; in a small box beneath lay piles of
bank bills, and heaps oS double eagles, for
the redemption of these ivory issues.
“It wag early in the evening, and play
ers had not got iri. The keeper entertain
ed tis with tales of the fable—-how foolish
young men came there as we had, out of
curiosity, and were induced to ‘try their
out of coriority, which generally left
them out of cash, out of character and our
of friends in the end. We proposed leav
ing, when he politely invited us to stay so
•upper; he showed ua his bill of fare, which
included soup, roast beef, oysters in ail
styles, ducks, venison, quail, fish, choco
late, coffee, nuts, and the wines and liq
nora to he found in the best restaurants.—
Whoever is admitted into the rooms, eith
er as players or spectators, are also ad
mitted to these suppers free of charge.—
Don’t gamblers understand human nature?
The keeper was impatient to have the
house organized, so members could draw
their mileage and make his business better.
This is but one of many institutions in the
city, and the tiger is bound to be fed,
though the people starve.”
MONUMENT TO ANDREW JACKSON.
New Orleans devoted last Saturday to the
inauguration of a monument, erected to the
memory of its glorious defender. On its
pedestal is the following inscription ;
ANDREW JACKSON,
Born in Waxhaw Settlement, S. C.,
March 15, 1767,
Commander-in-Chics at the Battle of New
Orleans, January 8, 1815,
Elected Presidentof the U. States in 1828,
and again in 1832.
Died at the Hermitage, Tennessee,
June 8, 1845.
We have been favored by the Secretary
(if the Commissioners with permission to
add the following letter from the President
of the United States, in reply to an invi
tation to be present at the interesting cer
emonies of this day. It is an eloquent
and feeling tribute to the hero and the
man, who, when living, had no more devo
ted friend than the distinguished writer,
and whose memory is by none of his coun
trymen more highly honored and revered :
Washington, Jan. 31,1856.
L. Hcyliger, Secretary of the
Jackson Monument Association, N. Orleans, La.
Sir: I have received your letter of the
21st hist., addressed to me in behalf of
Messrs. Jos. Walker, A. D. Crossman, J.
B. Planche, Joseph Genois. James 11. Cald
well, Charles Gayarre and P. Seiizeneau,
Commissioners of the Jackson Monument
Association, and inviting me to attend the
approaching inauguration of Clark Mills’
equestrian statue of Andrew Jackson in
the citv of New Orleans, on Saturday, the
9th of ‘February next.
It is portionUrly fitting that such a mon
ument to one among the most illustrious
men of our own or any other country, be
erected in the city which, by Iris genius
and courage, and that of the gallant men
under his command, was j ‘reserved from
capture and rapine by foreign foes, and in
view of the very battle field rendered illus
trious by one of the most glorious victories
which mark the successful stages in the
progress of our national greatness and
strength.
So long as the mighty Mississippi shall
con tin ne to flow on to the sea, and bear up
on its bosom the continual tribute of com
mercial and agricultural wealth; so long as
the vast and fertile valley which it washes
shall be the seat of powerful States and of
thronging millions of men, so long will fu
ture generations make their pilgrimage of
patriotism to the plains of Chalmette, and
there, with grateful and admiring hearts,
dwell on the immortal memory of Jackson
The people of the State of Louisiana, and
of New Orleans especially, do well there
tore to testify their gratitude for services
which gave security to their hearts and
homes, and their veneration for the memo
ry of the hero, in the erection of such a
monument within sight of the very field
of fame which witnessed the*crowning tri
umphs of his military achievements.
But let ns not speak of the victory won
there, as a mere local event. In repelling
invasion from the valley of the Mississippi,
the whole Union was delivered, and a
thrill of exulting joy touched the hearts of
the entire American people from the remo
test mountains of the West to the farthest
headlands of the East. With what emotion
the brave defenders were received by the
old and the young, by the strong men and
fair women of the Crescent City, as they
came from the field signalized by a victory
which has no you will find it more
easy to remember than to express.
While the pulse is stirred at the thought
of such a page in our history’s annals, it
becomes us not the less to reflect on the
civil virtues, which throw a still brighter
radiance, if possible, around the name of
Jackson; and to remember that his fame as a
soldier was equaled, if not surpassed, by his
fame as a statesman. The lofty courage,
the devoted patriotism, the stern integrity,
the sagacious comprehension wheih distin
guished him in war, were subsequently so
pre-eminently conspicuous in peace as to
secure for him a place in the hearts of his
conntrymen, second only to that of the
great founder and father of the Republic.
Nothing would give me more sincere
gratifiaatioß than to unite with you persen-
>dl? in celebrating such an occasion’; but
the obligations of public duty render this
impossible, and compel me to content my
seit with expressing my cordial sympathy
with your object, and thus in heart co-ope
rating with you, in doing honor to the
memory of the hero of New Orleans.
I am, with the highest consideration,
your obliged fellow-citizen,
Franklin Pierce.
ADVERTISING.
We have alluded to the success which
has attended Mr. Walker as an auctioneer.
We might refer to other liberal advertis
ers, who have rapidly built up a large bus
inees by advertising,” thus literally becom
ing the architects of their own fortunes.
Wo have never known an instance where
liberal and judicious advertising failed to
reap a rich harvest. But, in order to ob
tain the full benefit of the outlay, advertis
ers should not imitate the school boy, who
stands shivering upon the Water’s edge in
early spring venturing first one foot and
then another into the water, and hesitating
to take the plunge, which alone will bring a
healthy reaction. A. small advertisement,
timidly inserted in the cheapest, column of a
newspaper, may yield a return, but it wilt
not test thead vantages of advertising. Some
iefinite plan of advertising should he de
cided upon, and a liberal sum anpropna
ted annually to that purpose. The princi
pal of one of the most successful education
al institutions in this part of the country,-
some years since determined to advert-is.
to the amount of SI,OOO annually, although
his income at that time scarcely exceeded
that sum. The result is that as lie recent
ly assured us,(this business has increased
tenfold and he has nearly doubled th<
amount of his advertising. His success h
but one among many instances which
might be cited of the advantages of rib
plan we have suggested. They prove con
clusively that the seed planted by judiciou
advertisers, is never injured by e irly frosts
or droughts and always yields a rich liar
vest. — Boston Journal.
THE PAST.
“It is not what I might have been,
B-t what f yc-t may be.”
How often do we spend our time in vain
despondency about- youth wasted in idle
ness, and years spent in folly or in misdi
rected efforts mumuring about onr want of
forethought, and our neglect of opportune
ties. We seem to think that there is bur
one period in life really worth improving,
and but one opportunity worth embracing.
Thus we continual]v mourn over the im
perfections of the Past, and neglect to re
deem it, as we may by diligently im prov
ing the Present. If we desire u*. fid are
influential lives, in the decline of which we
can look hack with complacency and gra
titnde to Rim who alone crowns our efforts
with success we must, work faithfully, con
scientiously, and persevering)v in the liv
ing Preset. Every moment comes to u
fraugiit with important results: distant
they may be and imperceptible to most
but vet momentous in their bearings. —
How important is it then, that we slmuU
labor assiduously, remembering past fail
ures only to draw from them lessons of
instruction. Thus the Past may be redeem
ed and a brilliant future be opened before us.
“To him who works and only him
The past returns again.”
“HONOR thy FATHER and thy MOTHER. 55
Were this divine injunction heeded as it
should be, many a pang might be prevented
which otherwise will be keenly lelt. To
those bereft of their who were
guilty of unkindness or disobedience to them,
when they might have contributed to their
happiness, recollection of their ingratitude
is a constant source of sorrow and regret.
Few among us can look upon the graves
of our fathers and mothers without sad re
membrances. We think of our coldness
and neglect, and of the love that never fail
ed us so unrequited. Gladly would we of
fer any sacrifice, could we possibly do so,
to make reparation,and to recall every word
that gave the slightest pain to the hearts so
fondly devoted to us that throb no longer.
One of our most distinguished citizens
wandered when a boy, from the home of his
widowed mother, regardless of her prayers
and entreaties. After an absence of years
he returned to the place of his birth, hoping
to comfort, during her reclining days, the
mother that had long prayed for, and had
long yearned to see, her wayward child.—
He had suffered much and encountered
many difficulties in a foreign land ; but his
efforts were successful, and he had accumu
lated much of the riches of this world, ll.s
mother who had been awaiting Ins promis
ed return died before his arrival. lie stood
by her grave and wept bitterly, Willingly
would he have given all he possessed for
one word of kindness or one approving
smile from her who had passed, a way.
“My father,” says Dr. Johnson, “had
been in the habit of attending Uttoxeter
market and of opening a stall there for the
sale of his books. Confined by indisposition,
he desired me one day to supply Ins place
My pride prevented me and I gave him a
refusal” The wearied old man, whom
this denial must have sorely grieved, and
who had long bravely and patiently si rug
cried to supply the wants of his famil.y soon
died. Amid his conflicts, his labors, his
achievements, his honors, that refusal was
remembered by Johnson with the deepest
C TEH MS: TN ADVANCE.
) JAMES T. BLAIN,
V. PKINiEK.
VOL. XXII.-NUMBIR 8.
anguish. Fifty year; after that act of diso
bedience, when the illustrious doctor him
sell was aged and weary, he revisited the
scenes ot his early life. “I went,” he tells
its, “into the -market at the time of business,
uncovered my head and stood for an hour
with it bare upon the spot where my father’s
stall used to stand.” “The picture,” re
marks Carlyle “of Dr. Johnson standing
bareheaded in the market is one of the sad
dest and grandest we can paint! Repen
tance ! repentance! he proclaims with pas
sionate sobs :—but only to the ear of Heav
en, if Heaven will give him audience: the
earthly ear and heart that should have heard
it are now closed, unresponsive forever.”
A request was made by a sick and dying
mother to the writer, but it was not heeded.
He was but a child, and knew not that she
was dying, tor death had not yet entered
the household, and he was utterly ignorant
ot the tokens of its approach. Never has
he forgotten, and nefer can he forget, his
mother s look of tender reproval. When
the day afterward, he fondly pressed her
oOiu hands, and kissed her lifeless lips, with
unutterable sadness he regretted his un
kindness. Years, many years have since
departed, but ins disobedience to his moth
er is still regarded with humiliation andsor
row . Carlisle. J. A \| t J 4
IUPFJSOCTJNT FOR DEBT,
Some fifteen or twenty thousand debt
tors have been looking forward with a good
leal of anxiety to see what the present
Democratic Legislature are going to do for
•■he benefit, of the poor debtor. In almost
•very State in the Hu ion that makes any
pretentions to respectability, imprisonment
ior debt has been abolished. This, the
-- upire “State ot the South, seems to be
solitary a!id alone in holding on to that
old relic ot barbarism, the capias ad satis
i icieodnm. Why is this ? Is thisaDern-
MM-atic State —do we not profess to be the
friend ot the oppressed of all nations, and
io favor ot the largest amount of liberty?
And yet our Statutes tolerate imprison
ment by an unfeeling creditor of scores of
honest debtors.
Dishonest debtors, they cannot reach,
I rum the tact they hold themselves ready
it all times to swear out and hold on to all
property they can get; an honest man had
soon suffer martyrdom as to take the
oath. We are waiting patiently to see if
this relic of old Feudal England is not
lOolished, at. the present Legislature. dVe
would bke to have them come up to their
work like men, who are all they profess
o be, triends to the oppressed. Legisla
tors are sometimes strange fellows; they
f ur:i loose thieves and murderers, but will
leprive a man ot his liberty for the sin of
1 e bt. — F*ale> <d lfn ion.
GENUINE PROBITY.
We ! ranshift* from the Gmrrier deeEtaU
Li nix the following :
‘‘Towards nine o’clock in the morning, a
‘itrie !oy about twelve years of age, whose
white linen jacket and apron were suffi
cient indications of his being in the pastry
cook line, was in the act of returning from
fhc great market, bearing on his head a
basket containing eggs and butter. ~ Hav
ing reached the neighborhood of a Chnreh
f Saint Eustache, (in Paris,) the little fel
low—who waded his way with difficulty
through the suddenly jostled
with such violence, by an-unknown person
passing by, that the basket was capsized,
and tell to the earth With its contents.—
Seeing his eggs smashed, and his butter
spotted with mud, the poor child burst into
tears and tore his hair in despair.
“An individual who, perchancy, was
among the curious that surrounded the
child, took from his pocket a half frauc
and placing it into his hand, invited the
other spectators to imitiate his example,
and repair damages. Thus stimulated,
they ail hastened to comply. Each and
every one wished to partake of the good
action, and, soon, silver and copper aboun
ded in the little fellow’s apron.
“Wlren all had given, the incipeDt Va
tel, whose grief had disappeared as by en-
thanked the bystanders very
much for their generosity; then counted, on
the spot, the sum which ho bad just recei
ved, and which amounted to over twenty
two francs; but, instead of quietly pocket
ing this amount and departing, as every
one expected, the child drew from his pock
et the bill of the goods he had lost, and
the total amounting to -fourteen francs,
this sum lie appropriated. Noticing, then
;j'i the group, of which he was the centre,
a poor woman in rags, the child went
straightway to her, and gave her the re
mainder.”
SPASM3 AND BRANDY.
The following anecdote is fold of a very
clever fellow, wlu> had recently joined the
Sons of Temperance:—
After becoming a “Son,” he went to Mo
bile on business, and was taken ill there.
A physician was called, and on examining
him, pronounced him in a very dangerous
condition, and prescribed brandy. The
sick man tol l him that he could not take
it. The doctor insisted that it was a prop
er remedy, hut the patient told him he
would not tnke it.
“Well,” said the doctor, “ifyou will not
take the brandy, yon will have spasms.”
“Guess, then,” said the son of temper
ance, “I will try a couple of spasms flwfc.”