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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.”