Temperance crusader. (Penfield, Ga.) 1856-1857, March 08, 1856, Image 1

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JOHN HENRY SEALS, > r ttt„^ nd > Editors. L. LINCOLN VEAZEY,) NEW SERIES, YOL. 1 TEMPER,M CRUDER. FC3LISIIED EVERY SATURDAY, EXCEPT TWO, ? TRR YEAR, by JOHN H. SEALS. TERMS : SI,OO, in France; or $2,00 at the *md of kbe jrwr. rates of adveuttsisq. 1 square (twelve line, 1 * or lore) first insertion,. .$1 00 Each continuance, 80 ■fYofcsmonnl or Business Cards, not exceeding six lines, per year, 8 00 Announcing Candidate* for Office, 8 00 * STANDING ADTERTISEMRNT*. 1 square, three months, B 00 1 square, six months, 7 00 1 square, twelvemonths, ....12 00 2 squares, “ .1R 00 S? squares, “ “ .21 00 A squares, * ** ....25 00 not marked with the number of insertions, will be continued until forbid, and charged accordingly. 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,... ft 00 Sale of Personal Property, by Administrators, Executors, and Guardians, per square,... 825 Notice to Debtors and Creditors,. 8 25 Notice for Leave to Sell, 4 00 Citation for Letters of Administration, 2 75 Citation for Letters of Dismission from Adm’n. 6 00 Citation *for Letters of Dismission from Guardi anship, 8 25 LEGAL REQUIREMENTS. Sales of Land and Negroes, by Administrators, Exetutors, or Guardians, are required by law to be held on the first Tuesday in the month, between the hours of ten in tho 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 day* preriou* to the day of sale. Notices for tho sale of Personal Property most !>e given at least ten dayn previous to the day of sale. Notice to Debtors and Creditors of n Estate must be published forty days. Notice that application will be roado to tin* Court! of Ordinary-for leave to sell Land or Negroea, must-} be published weekly for itoo month*. Citations for Letters of Administration mast be published thirty day*— for Dismission from Admin-j istration, nvynthly, git rrumtlm—Aor Disrntssfon from ! Guardianship, forty day*. Rules for Foreclosure of Mortgage most be pub lished monthly far four month* —for compelling titles frsm Executors or Administrator?., where a bond hag been give a by the deceased, the space of three month*. Publications will always be continued accord ing to these, the legal roquireroecta, unlee* otherwise ordered. Tho Law of Newspapers, 1. Subscribers who do not give expreaß notfoe to the contrary, are considered os wishing to continue their subscription. 2. If subscribers order the diacondnuaoee of their newspapers, the publisher may continue to send theca until ail arrearages are paid. S. If subscribers neglect or refuse to take their newspapers from the offices to which they ore di rected, they are hold responsible nntH they hare set tled the bills and ordered them discontinued. 4. If subscribers remove to other pieces without Informing the publishers, and the newspapers are sent to the former direction, they are held responsi ble. 5. The Courts hare decided that rcfwfrtg to take newspapers from the office, or removing and leaving them uncalled for, is prima facie evidence of inten sion si fraud. 6. The United States Courts have also repeatedly decided, that a Postmaster who neglects to perform his duty of giving reasonable notice, a* required by the Post Office Department, of the neglect of a per son to take from the office newspapers addressed to him, reivers tho Postmaster liable to the publisher for the subscription prico. JOB PIIINTING, of every description, done with neatnc-ss and dispatch, at this office, and at reasonable prices for cash. All orders, in this department, must be addressed to J. T. BLAIN. PBOSPECTTB OF TITB TEMPERANCE CRUDER. [tICOHDA.*] TEMPERANCE BANNER. VCTUATED by a conscientious desire to farther the cuuse of Temperanoe, and experiencing gntjit disadvantage in being too narrowly limited in space, by the smallness of onr 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, “TUB TEM PERANCE CRUSADER.” This old pioneer of the Temperance cause is des tined yet to chronicle the tr'umph of its principles. It has stood the test —passed through the “fiery fur nace.” anUfr-Wce the “Hebrew children,” re-appeared unscorched. It has survived the newspaper famine which has eaused, and is still causing many excel lent journals anti periodicals to sink, like “bright ex halations m the evenin’/,” to rise no more, and it has -von heralded th- “death struggles of many contem poraries, laboring for the same great end with itself t, “still lives,” and “waxing bolder as it grows older, - vvaxinz an eternal “Crusade ’ ngainat the “In fern-l L^forTraffic,” standing like the “High Priest” of the Israelites, who stood between the people and <he plae<* that threatened destruction. We entreat the friends of the Temperance Cause - ive ug their influence in ertending the usefulness P,, p naper. We intend presenting to the public a 1U worthy of all attention and a liberal patronage; Editor **d Prapriet*?, ferfeW, jidurfe!) ft ffemprance, Utoralitjr, IKtaratnre, (fatitral Intelligence, |JMra, fa. ! S€C£ctbsns* A SCENE IN REAL LIFE. The Editor of the Chicago Times, having been on tho north side of that city to see a friend, was recently prevented from reach ing his office, in consequence of a steam-tug having passed up the river with a small fleet of vessels in tow, one of which had been cast off and hauled in just west of the bridge, leaving the “draw'” still open. While waiting he witnessed the following scene : The vessel we have mentioned had been moored, or trade fast outside of several ca nal boats ; and as we stood looking at the men upon her, one of them approached a female, who hud been crouched upon the deck, and addressing her, pointed to the shore, then to the bridge, and then down towards the thronged and busy sireets of living, moving, headlong Chicago. She rose, picked up a small bundle, from which she drew forth a coin, which she ten dered to the hardy sailor. He refused it, whatever it was, and lending her a hand, helped her from the vessel to the dock, and from the dock up to the bridge. By this time a large crowd of persons thronged the north end of where the bridge would be, if it was always a bridge; and in contempla ting the new faces, and the representatives of the various classes there assembled, we had almost forgotten the incident we have related. Our attention was called from u vain endeavor to discover some hope of a cessation of tugs going up and down, and schooners and brigs pulling in and out, bv hearing a most audible sol) from someone near us. It was not the sob of childhood, caused by some sudden change from gaiety to grief; it was the sob of some maturer breast, filled with a sense of loneliness and despair. It reached other ears than ours. A lady, dressed in a manner which be spoke a wealth that could gratify taste and elegance, and who, like ourselves, was de tained at that place, stood near, accompani ed by three children, whose desire to get at the extreme edge of the platform was with difficulty repressed. With a woman’s ten derness her heart recognized the stifled ebul lition of sorrow, and approaching the per son from whom it came, who was none oili er than tho woman we had just seen land from the vessel, she quietly, and in that soft, sweet voice of woman, which none can re sist, inquired if she stood in need, or was she ill, or was her sorrow such that she could not be relieved ? A portion of the railing near us was vacant, and towards that, and : almost at our side, these two women came to converse, Tho stranger was a fair, handsome girl, of about seventeen years, neatly, but coarse ly dressed, with shoes not only well worn, but heavy, and unsuited as much for her sex as for the season. The poor girl, in honest simplicity, and with an earnestness which despair alone could impart, related her his tory, uninterrupted by a single observation from her companion, but often accompanied by the tears of both. We have not space for it at length, but we will give it, chang ing its order just enough to enable us to state it briefly. Sho said that the was born in Boston; she | had no brother or sister now; she remem bered that she had a sister, the oldest, whose name was Lizzie; that sister, years ago, against her father’s will, had married, and with her husband, having been banished from the father's sight, had gone off, and had not been heard of since—no doubt was ! dead. At the t:me of her sister’s marriage her parents were wealthy; the pride which drove away Lizzio had brought silent re grets, and after a while came melancholy complainings by the mother sighing for the embrace of her first-horn. 1 hose soon led to anger and criminations at home and dis sipation by the father abroad. Losses came upon them, and, at last, ga thering the few worldly goods they possess ed, they left the proud c;tv of their birth, and settled five years ago upon land pur chased of the Government in Wisconsin. — Her brothers, some older and some young er than herself, one by one drooped and died; and soon her mother, calling in agony upon her long-exiled daughter, joined her boys in a happier clime. None were now lett but the father and this poor girl. He too was humbled and stricken by the slow but eer tain disease which lights up the cheek, and fires the eye with the brilliancy of health, even when its victim is on the confines ol eternity. He would sit and tell to his surviving child the acts oi winning love and sacrific ing devotion which had made his Lizzie the very object of his life. He would talk oi her sweet smiles and her happy disposition until memory would lead to the hour when he bid her to depart, and not let him see her face again. His decline was rapid,and this lone child saw the first flowers which the warmth of spring had called from the soil of her mother's grave disturbed, uprooted and thrown aside, that his ashes might mingle with those of the mother of his children. At lis death he charged her to pay off, as farasshe might be able, the debts incurred to procure the necessaries of life. The land, which, for want of culture, had not increas ed in value, was sold, and left her but a few dollars. These she expended in rearing some boards to mark the spot where she had seen buried, one after another, her beloved l kindred. She had heard of Chicago. She | had heard that in this eity there were offices PBNFIBLD, GA, SATURDAY, MARCH 8,185 G. I where strangers wishing employment could find work. She had on foot travelled many miles, until she reached Milwaukee, and thence by r the kindness of a poor sailor, who had seen her day after day on the dock watching the steamers depart, had inquired and ascertained that she wished to come hither, hut had not the money. He brought her to Chicago on his own vessel, and had told her that by crossing the bridge she could find one of those places where situa tions were given to worthy applicants. Such was her story She had mentioned no name except that of father, mother, and ihe endearing appellations of brother George, Willie, &c. Both of the women were crying bitterly. The fashionably dressed lady turned her face towards the river, that her tears, at such a crowded and unusual place, might not be observed. She requested us to take her two boys—George and YVilhe she called them—by the hand, t<> keep ihem from danger, and then putting her hand around the neck of the poor, friend las-;, wandering orphan stranger, said, ‘‘You are my own sister. lam Lizzie I” These two beings, children of the same parents, how different have been their paths and how deep their sufferings ! We have seen them together in “Lizzie’s” carriage, driving along Lake street. They are doubt less as happy as their bereavements, reliev ed only by the consciousness of duty faith fully performed, can permit. But while the suffering of that father and mother may be faintly known from the story of the daugh ter, what must have been the mental agony of that other daughter, unkindly banished from her mothei’s side, and driven out into the world without a father’s blessing? What must hove been her grief when her letters, written from a prosperous city, from the house of her wealthy and kind husband, te ling them of her success, and of the birth of her children, were unnoticed and unan swered? She must have felt indeed that the hearts of that lather and mother, her sis ter and brothers, must have been hardened against her. We will say no more. That scene will live in our memory while we can remember the holy love of father, mother, and kindred. CROOKEDNESS OF RUM LOGIC. •‘Repeal the prohibitory law,” says the free liquor men, “because it cannot be en forced in Boston, and causes more drunken ness than it prevents.” This logic is about as limping and zig-zag as the afternoon gait of one of those who put it forth. Let me point out three of its exhibitions of “blind sluggers.” Ist. If the prohibitory law should be re pealed because it is openly violated, and its violators go unpunished, then numerous oth er laws, admitted to be good and necessary, ought to be repealed too. A large part of the statute book is defied as a regular busi ness, by rascals entrenched behind corpulent money-bags and connived at by a cowardly press. If this argument proves anything, it proves far too much, and would hurry us into anarchy forthwith ; as no penal law is wholly kept, and no class of criminals is caught and punished to the last man. Does not every large city contain a regiment of professional rogues running at large, seldom molested by the police, to whom they are well and often intimately known ? And shall the legal curbs be taken off this ungod ly crew ? Yes, if rum logic be sound. 2d. li the prohibitory law had been tried in Boston, and lound to accomplish no good, it would then be time enough to put. it down in obedience to tipsy howls and miserly groans. No serious effort has been made to use the weapon, and how absurd it seems to cast it awa\ because the hands that should wield it are partial rather to the toddy stick! Shame may yet seize on our magistrates, and the huge poisonous root of poverty and crime be attacked as well as the sprouts and twigs. Let us retain a weapon so terrify ing to the pimpled and tattered squads of Kmg Alcohol, and by-and-by we will have soldiers, firm-hearted and laithful, to gain for the temperance army a lasting Waterloo tri umph. 3d. If legal prohibition fails in Boston, it succeeds in the rural districts, and many of the large villages of Massachusetts. Eve ry account vve can obtain tells that unvary ing story. The death-dealing traffic has had a righteous death dealt out to it there ; and, as a natural consequence, poor-houses are becoming tenantless, and jails are advertised to let. The evil of unchecked grog, in tact, is pent, up mainly in Boston; like a corrupt humor in individual bodies, that sore curse works itself off in a big, angry boil on the body politic. The pain and foulness may last a long time, and now and then seem to he aggravated; but this is clearly a much better way of getting rid of the disease than driving it inward again. Repeal the pro hibitory law, and you make the whole Com monwealth sick with the flow of liquid poi son in her veins; and the boil wont heal up, either.— N. E. Fanner. THEOLOGIANS OF HUMBLE ORIGIN. The reformer Zwingle, emerged from a shepherd’s hut among the Alps. Mel anclhon was a workman in an armorer’s shop. Martin Luther was the child of a poor miser. Dr. Adnm Clark was the child of Irish cotters. John Foster was a weaver. Andrew Fuller was a farm ser vant. Dr. Morrison, translator of the Bi ble into Chinese, was a last maker. Dr. Milner was a herd hvQc BIRTH-PLACE OF WASHINGTON. We find in the Richmond Enquirer, of r he 10th fob. the following interesting correspondence, laid before the legislature of Virginia, by Governor Wise, in relation •ofbe birth place of George Washington : Executive Department, . ) Richmond. Feb. 9, 1856. f To the Senate and House of Delegates of the Gener al Assembly of the State of Virginia-: Gentlemen: I take great pleasure in com municating to you the. accompanying cor respondence of .the Executive with Mr. L. W. Washington. Through me he presents the sites of the birth place of the father of his country, and the home and the graves f his progenitors in America, ‘to the State f Virginia, in perpetuity, on condition ->olely that the State shall cause these pla ces to be permanently enclosed by.an iron fence, based on stone foundation,and shall mark the same by suitable and modest ('hough substantial) tables, to commemo rate these notable spots.’ I recommend that provision be made, bylaw,to accept the grant on the condi tion it prescribes. The vault is decayed and needs repairs ; thu birth place will re quire a porter’s lodge, the house having oeen burnt many years ago; and the grounds will require for the enclosure about three hundred and fifty yards of fence, as proposed, which will cost about $5 per foot. An appropriation of S2OOO will ulti mately he required to comply with the condition. With the highest respect. Henry A. Wise. The following is the correspondence re ferred to in the above: Richmond, Feb. 8, 1856. Sir: As heir at law of the late George C. Washington, formerly of Westmore land county, Virginia, (late of Maryland) who sold the Wakefield estate, in said Westmoreland county, to a certain John Gray, October 13, 1813, making a reser vation in condition of sale (as per record of Westmoreland county court of same date) of sixty feet square of the ground on which formerly stood the house in which General Washington was born, together with the family burying ground and vault, con tairting about 20 feet square, in which are interred the remains of the father, grand father and great grandfather of Gene ral Washington, I now feel deeply irn pressed with the propriety and assurance that the State of Virginia should be the conservator of the spot on which the son of liberty first inhaled the breath of freedom, and also the guardian of the ashes of the father of the same, together with his pro genitors, even to him who was the first of the name who sought this happy country for freedom’s cause. And I now propose, through your in strumentality, my dear sir, to present these reservations to the mother State of Vir ginia, in perpetuity, on condition solely that the State require the said places to be permanently enclosed with an iron fence, based on stone foundation, together with suitable and modest (though Substantial) tables to commemorate for the rising gene ration these notanle spots. I have the hon or to remain, Very truly, yours, Ac., Lewis W. Washington. To the lion. Henry A. Wise, Governor of Virginia. Executive Department, ) Richmond, Feb. 8, 1856. ( Dear Sir ; I have received yonr’s of this flay, and make due acknowledgment to the heir of the birth-place of the Father of his Country, and of the home and the graves of his progenitors in America. This precious present to the State of rite childhood’s play ground of him whose theatre of action was the continent, and whose deeds of manhood were, in peace and in war, the highest example of human wisdom and virtne to all mankind, cannot but he affecting to every Virginian. No eulogy can measure the meed of his mer it, the duration of his fame; but we may keep sacred the earthly spot where his ex istence began; and point our children to the place of his cradle.. Virginia will hallow the spot; and as far as her Executive can act, he accepts the noble tender as one wor thy of a Washington; and he will inform the two houses of the General Assembly, in order that they may make provisions by law* for accepting the grant on its own pi ous condition. I am proud, sir, to be the instrument of this gift to the Commonwealth, and am most gratefully yours, llknry A. Wise. To Lewis W. Washington, Esq. The communication of the Governor and the accompanying correspondence were re ferred to a special committee. QUICK WORK, AND AN INOPPORTUNE KISS, The Louisville Journal of the 20th ult., learns that on the previous day a venera ble female servant belonging to Mr. J. W. Neewlsind, of that city, escaped to Indi ana. hut was brought back in less than two hours. According to her. own account, a white man saw her the night before, and made arrangements with her to meet him in the morning after breakfast at the Port land Railroad Depot, whence the two were to go off together. She went to the depot at the appointed time, found her white eeinpuuien there, and teok passage ea the cars, having several dresses on and her face thickly veiled. Those who saw her supposed her to be white. The black woman and white man, the latter a big hurley fellow, crossed the river on the ferry-boat, she being supposed all the while to be a white woman; and, when the boat arrived on th* other side, he pass ed out and ascended the bank first. She tollowed about ten steps behind, and, when they were both on tie top cf the hank, the amorous and impatient rascal, thinking all safe, and wishing to seize ths first golden moment, raised her veil and kissed her.— That raising of the veil was fatal. The ferryman saw, that although she had a white lover, she had a black face, and rnsh ing np the bank, he seized her and deman ded where she was going. She protested that she was free, but not being able to show the documents, she was brought back and lodged in jail even before being miss ed by the family to which she belonged. The Abolitionist was shortly after seized and carried off to Louisville, where he is safely lodged in jail. THE RETRIBUTION. Landlord. —As she was given to fits, I she died in one of them. To be sure, they are poor and all that, and I should not steer wido of the truth isl call ed them a lazy pack, the whole of them.— My over sensitive neighbors will charge me with ernelty towards them, in letting them go hungry and all that, and especial ly for neglecting the dirty brat through her sickness. I wasn’t her keeper more than anybody else; and I’ll see them all starve first, before I’ll give them anything without the cash down. —Diary of Feb. 10 th 1851 The above was said in the small room where the child died, and while the corpse was lying on a rough board, with a tatter ed sheet wrapped around it. Many of the neighbors had come in, some from curiosi ty, to look npon the pinched and sallow features of the dead child. The family consisted of the widow and her two chil dren. The youngest, hnt three years old, had died, and she was kneeling beside the little corpse, speechless, with clasped hands and disheveled locks, a picture of stolid do spair. The sight wag calculated to awaken sympathy where such an emotion existed, and I was glad to see several come forward to speak words of comfort to the poor wid <>w. Among the group stood the landlord. He was a stern, harsh-featnred, hard-heart ed man, who worshipped his gold and curs ed the poor for being poor. Tho widow and her children were his tenants,.and the small cottage they occupied had a tasteful appearance outside, but within there was scarcely anything but bare walls and emp ty rooms. The history of this family is hut a repetition of that of thousands of others. The husband had been industrious and frugal—had accumulated a few hun dred dollars, which he invested in a lot np on which he subsequently built the cot tage. Unfortunately, it was in the vicini ty of the tavern over which the aforesaid landlord presided. I said he was a hard hearted man. The stuff he sold not only intoxicated and ruined his customers, but eventually killed them. Such was the fate of his neighbor of the cottage. One year of dissipation and extravagance, and he died n horrible death, and the little prop erty was seized by the landlord, to satisfy claims he held against it. The furniture was removed, and a rickety table, a few broken chairs, and something like a bed. substituted. Thus the widow, he said might remain till spring; and ho even stipulated to furnish her with the necessa ries of life, provided sho would affix her name to a certain paper, which she did.— Tho sequel shows how he kept his promise. For three days in mid-winter, they had nothing to eat, and upon the fourth the child died of starvation. A few days more, and the poor woman and her remaining child were conveyed to the poor house.— Thus closed the first act of the drama.— Four years have passed away, and the cur tain has dropped upon the second and con cluding one. A friend writes ; “Old Gripe,” (referring to the landlord,) is dead, thanks to provi dence that willed it. For ten long years he has been an unmitigated curse to this neighborhood. lie was merciless to those lie bail in his power, and a tyrant in his own household. Becoming deeply invol ved through unfortunate speculations, he cancelled the whole at once by blowing out his brains with one of Colt’s revolvers. * * * * Thus far I have seen no tears ehed at hiß Bummary departure, but on the con trary, all that I meet appear satisfied with the result of his last operation. Even the boys take delight in hawking the news about the street, that “Old Gripe” has killed himself. * * * Thus closed tho ca reer of “Old Gripe,” the rmnseller. A stranger to tears himself, there were none shed to moisten the clods as they rattled down on his coffin-lid. * * * * Madam Gossip will not even permit him to rest in peace. Ghastly with a gaping wound, his ghost has been seen stalking thro’ the graveyard-—some say with a decanter fill ed with blood, clutched iu his bony hand. * * * It is estimated that thirty-five of hiß customers have died of delirium tremens , and that double that number, at least, are fast approaching the same fate. It is now hoped the/ me/ /el he eared. * * Tk—~ ( TERMS: ffil.OO IN’ ADVANCE. j JAMES T. BLAIN, v PHmTEK. VOL. XML-NUMBER 9. is rejoicing in many a poor leasehold to night, over the death of “Old Gripe,” the rumseller.— Cayuga Chief, A. G. ■•►.*— A CHILD’S REASONING. At the time when Millerisin prevailed at the North, a Charleston lady attended the lectures as they were delivered, and be came very much troubled in mind. Her little daughter, just old enough to lisp dis tinctly her morning and evening prayers, accompanied her and seemed to listen to the speaker with attention. “Mother,” said the little one when they arrived at home, “the preacher said all the world would be burned tip before next year. Will it mother?” The mother as sumed a calm tone and answered, “It may be eo, my daughter.” “And what will become of all the peo ple,” said the little one. ‘ God will take them up to heaven if they are good.” “Well mother, we should not die then,” said the child. “Perhaps not,” answered the mother. The little one seemed lost in thought for a few moments, and then came to say her prayers, which she concluded by repeating, “If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.*’ Pausing a minute she amended it by say ing— “lf the world should end before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” The words caught the ear of her mother; she was rebuked and comforted. She re flected; death is always near, why shudder if the end of the world come. And she repeated the child’s prayer— “lf the world should end before I wake, T pray the Lord my soul to take.” There are many of 119 who should take lesson from this child. “Thou hast had these things from the wise and prudent and revealed them unto babes.” Millenium may have aroused some to see the danger of living “without God and without a hope in the world*” but it sent some to the mad-house, others to infidelity; separated and destroyed churches and de luded many; all for the want of the reason ing of the littie child ?—Church Herald. < i ig> ABBOTT’S NAPOLEON. The case of one who sets about perform ing actions at once the meanest and most mischievous, “under a deep sense of re sponsibility to God,” is quite hopeless.— The unction of religion thus laid to a man’s soul is generally sufficient to blot out all distinctions between right and wrong, es pecially in minds upon which those dis tinctions were never very strongly engrav ed. We are led to these observations by a letter of the Rev. John S. C. Abbott, au %or of the Life of Napoleon I, addressed to Napoleon 111 and \Vhich will be found in another column. Mr. Abbott states in this letter that every p:ige of his book —some 800 or 1000 in number—was written “un -ler a deep sense of responsibility toGd;” to which the emperor that is, appropriately responds by sending Mr. Abbott a rich gold medal. What other private acknowl edgments, if any, this correspondence does not disclose. Mr. Abbott, as everybody knows, rep resents Napoleon as a Christian, saint and hero—-a man without blemish, with whom, all things considered, Washington is not to be compared. He does not say this in terms, but this is the substance and drift of his book. Fascinated by the spirit of evil, he does his bidding, and falls down and worships him. The worship may be very sincere, but it is on that account none the less deplorable and none the less detes tiblo To set the example of worshipping a despot, to exhort others to worship a des pot, for whom his own advancement, pow er and reputation formed always the sole and single motive for action, is to lead mankind on to their debasement and ruin —it is to prepare them to throw themsel ves before other Juggernauts of the same sort. The same office that Mr. Abbott has done for Napoleon TANARUS, he or some other similar idolator will be ready in due season to perform, under a like “sense of respon sibility to God” for Napoleon lll—especi ally if a nephew of Napoleon 111 should happen to occupy the throne of France. Considering now well Mr. Abbott’s book is calculated t.o impose upon the weak-min ded, ignorant and thoughtless, who must ever constitute the groat bulk of its read ers; and considering the large circulation it has attained, and of which Mr. Abbott speaks with so natural a complacency—we cannot but regard it as the most pernicious as well as immoral book ever issued from the American press', and that it should be so highly estimated by Napoleon 111 is pretty good proof of the fact.— Tribune. Death . — lt is death to many to think of death They are as unwilling to be led in to a discourse of death, as children into the dark. Thoughts of it are no more welcome to them than Moses was to Pharaoh, to whom he said, “Get thee from me, and let me see thy face no more.’* DCF There is something inexpressibly lovely about little girls. They are sweet lit tle human flowers, diamond dew-drops in the breath of morn. What a pity they should ever become women, flirts, shrews,