Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

~ I I ” I I I I I I I J^J JOHN HENRY SEALS, ) ,* t } ND } Editors. L. LINCOLN VEAZEY, S NEW SERIES, VOL 1. TEMPERANCE dIIBIR. > *'•*“* PrBLISHKD EVERY SATt'RMY, EXCEPT TWO, IST THE YEAR, BY JOHX IT. SEALS. TER NTH : ia advance; or $2,00 at the end of the year. RATIOS- OF ADVERTISING. 1 square (twelve lines or le-s) first insertion,. .$1 00 finch continuance, 50 Professional or Business Cards, not exceeding six lines, per year, 5 00 Announcing Candidates for Office, 8 00 STANDING AI) V KRTIB EXTENTS. 1 square, three months, 5 00 1 square, six months, 7 00 1 square, twelvemonths, 12 00 2 squares, “ “ „ 18 00 squares, “ “ * .21 00 4 squares, “ “ 23 00 Advertisements not marked with the number of insertions, will be continued until forbid, and charged accordingly. Merchants, 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 to Sell, 4 00 Citation for Letters of Administration, 2 75 Citation for Letters of Dismission from Adrn’n. 5 00 Citation fur Letters of Dismission from Guardi anship, 3 25 LEGAL REQUIREMENTS. Sales of Land and Negroes, bv Administrators, Executors, or Guardians, arc required by taw to bo held on the first Tuesday in the month, between the hours often in the foremoon and three in the after noon, at the Court House in the County in which the property is situate. Nuticos of these sales must be given in a public gazette forty day* previous to the day of sale. Notices for the sale of Personal Property must be given at least ten day* 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 IkTpublished weekly for two months. < Citations fur Letters of Administration must be < published thirty day * —for Dismission from Admin istration, monthly , sit months —for Dismission from Guardianship, forty days. Rules for Foreclosure of Mortgage must be pub- 1 lishod monthlyforfour months —for compelling titles from Executors or Administrators, where a bond has ‘ been given by the deceased, the full space of three , month*. will always be continued accord ing to these, the legal requirements, unless otherwise ordered. The Law of Newspapers. 1. Subscribers who do not give express notice to the contrary, are considered as wishing to continue their subscription. 3. If subscribers order the discontinuance of their newspapers, the publisher may continue to send them until all arrearages are paid. 3. If subscribers neglect or refuse to take their newspapers from the offices to which they are di rected, they are held responsible until they have set tled the bills and ordered them discontinued. 4. Ts subscribers remove to other places without informing the publishers, and” the newspapers arc sent to the former direction, they are held responsi ble. 5. The Courts have decided that refusing to take newspapers from the office, or removing and leaving them uncalled for, is prime facie evidence of inten tional fraud. - j G. Tne Unitod States Courts have also repeatedly j decided, that s Postmaster who neglects to perforin j his duty of giving reasonable notice, as required by j the Post Office Pejisrtment, of tho neglect of a per- j son to take from the office newspapers addressed to i him, renders tho Postmaster liable to the publisher j for the subscription price. j JOB PRINTING, of every description, done with neatness and dispatch, j at this otfb-o, hnd at reasonable prices for cash; All orders, in this department, must be addressed to J. T. BLAIN. | | j PHOSPECTTS OF TUT TllPltlffi CRUSADER. !■ i (quondam] , TEMPERANCE BANNER. 4 CTUATEQ by a conscientious dosiro to further /w the cause of Temperance, and experiencing ‘ great disadvantage in being too narrowly limited in space, by the smallness of our 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 arc existing in the minds of a large poitioa of the present readers of the Banner) and. As former patrons, prejudices and difficulties j which can never be removed so long as it retains the i name, we venture also to make a change in that par- j ticular. It will henceforth be called, “THE TE.M- ) PE RAN C E C IUTSADER.” This old pioneer of the Temperance cause is dc-s* lined vet to chronicle the tr tunph of its principles. It has stood the test —passed through the “fiery fur nace,” apd, like the “Hebrew children,” re-appeared unscorched. It has survived tho nem/mper famine which lias caused, and is still causing many excel- j lent journals and periodicals to sink, like “bright ex- \ halations in the evenin'-,” to rise no more, and it has even heralded th “death struggles of many contem poraries, laboring for tho same great end with itself, ft “still lives,” and “waxing bolder as it grows older,” is now waging an eternal “Oriisaile” against the “In-1 fernal Liquor Traffic,” standing like tho “High Priest” j of the Israelites, who stood between tlie pooplo and the plague that threatened destruction. We 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 a slioet worthy of all attention and n liberal patronage; for while it is strictly u Temperance Journal , wc shall j endeavor to keep its readers posted on all the current | events throughout the country. KSgT’Prce, as heretofore, sl, strictly in advance, i JOHN H. SEALS, ! Editor and Proprietor. Penfleld, Dec. 8, 1855. m 4 flttOiA to ftmpcrantt. fforalitg, Jjtrriitart, (total Jitfdlipct, flttos. fa. ! JScIc-cutmioA [AN APPEAL FOR TEE DRUNKARDS FAMILY. —o— •2V AX INVALID. O — ! Gentle reader*, have you ever, as you i Were seated in your comfortable dwelling, in the midst of a kind ;<nd affectionate fam ily, before the blazing hearth and surround ed by nil the. com torts and many of the lux uries of life, have you ever suffered your fancy to go out among the “highways and hedges'’ of society, and contemplate the scenes of misery and sufferings, of infamy and vice, which are hourly and daily he mg enacted around void Have yon not again and again pictured to your mental visions the abject want and extreme desti tution of some poor and degraded family in the sphere of your acquaintance, whom you once knew as occupying a position of influence and respectability 7 , but who have been reduced to rids miserable condition of squalid poverty and deep .suffering by th. ravages of that blood-thirsty and insatiate monster, Intemperance? And us you have traced their gradual progress downward and still downward, to the very depths of! degradation and crime, have yon not utter- j ed an inward denunciation dee]), though ! silent, of the cruel and inhuman authors of so much wretchedness and woe; and men tally resolved never to relax your energies till this withering curse has been banished from our otherwise peaceful and happy Republic? Kind Mother —you whoso bosom yearns with tenderness and affection for your “lit tle ones,” whose highest ambition it is to promote their welfare and secure their hap piness—you who knoweth not the gnaw ings of hunger or the keenness of cold ami beating winds—have you ever thought ot that more than widowed wife and orphan children, who are entirely bereft of the sim plest of those comforts with which you are so abundantly blessed? And as your ami- i ling and happy little il->ck has gathere | around the evening board, loaded with j smoking and delicious viands; or as you j have .stowed them snugly away in their j comfortable beds and tu -kud the warm i coverlets around their chias to exclude the piercing cold, have you not inwardly de termined not to forget in tho morning, out of your great abundance, to administer to tho many pressing wants of the suffering poor? Dear little boys and gods—you who are blessed, with kind parents to provi ie for your wants —who lack not for warm and comfortable clothing and substantial food, as your young hearts''have been gladdened by the rich profusion of toys and ‘goodies’ from tho generous hand of good Santa Claus, and feasted almost to surfeiting up on the good things of the season, during the festivities just past, have you for a nn> menfc thought of the thrill of intense de light that a mere cake, a stick of candy, a wooden horse, a sot of m- rid; s or a pictured primmer would have conferred upon the) poor drunkard’s naked and hungry off j spring; -and were you willing to relinquish ! one of your many presents to contribute to ! their happiness, and remind them of the i return of merry Christina-'? And as you have knelt by your little trundle-bed to say vonr evening prayers, have you not thanked your Father in llea-ven tor the many blessings so mercifully bestowed up on you, and prayed Him to remove from the fair face of society tiff, hated vice, the prolific source of so much human woe and j suffering? And you, Oh, Rsmseiler!—you whose j daily vocation it is to vend the accursed j poison,, as the bloated and tottering inebri-i ate, -with livid eye and swollen visage, has presented himself to your fascinating bai\ and proffered his last dime in exchange for the beverage of hell, have you. reflected up on the wretched condition of his sick-strick en family, to which you are incessantly contributing by your debasing and unman ly traffic? And when thy labors of the day were oyer and you were seated in your comfortable chamber in your cushioned arm-chair, with a lovel y companion.by your side, and prattling .cherubs clambering up on your knee, have Vuti ever acknowledged to yourself that all these comforts were purchased with the “price of blood and the wages of iniquity,’’ and at the sacrifice of the peace arm happiness of your follow nvu-- I tabs? And whilst lying upon your downv j conch, you have reviewed die scenes of the i p ;l8 t day, and the pair, you have played in the great drama of life,'have not the images of wan and emaciated women and weep mg mid naked children" , ri*t?n up like accusing spirits to smite your conscience with keen I compunctions of guilt and crime? And a ! you ha ve been forced to ponder upon your “latter end,” the close. of mortal life, have you not, oh wretched! oh guilty man! trembled with remorse ami:fear at the fenr i fill thought of the uncertainty of a final ro | trituition, of avenging justice, and of titer nub nmijing punishment?. Ponder well these questions, on Ritu.isv.-1. lor! and answer as if at tiie nar of God. —r Spirit of the Age s VANITYvTdESPAIH. I D.. Franklin did not acquiesce in the’ i very general deprecation, of vanity. He i was accustomed to say ’ that when ho saw j dm man} things in tho intercourse between | men, which grew entirely out of vainly, l and without which the world would be PENFIELI), GA.. SATURDAY. MARCH 15. 1850. worse, lie was tempted to think that we should thank God for our vanity us much a 8 for any other gift. Perhaps one phase of this is not, distinct from the thought of Burke,! hat.vice loses half its harm by los ing ad ? t$ gfosVm-ss. Be this as it may. ‘the following characteristic story seems to illustrate it in another phase: A Frenchman resolved to kill himself.— In order to make his departure for the oth ’ r World the inor lu roic, he wrote the tffff lowing on hh ruble: “I follow the teaching ot a great rooster, for Molicre has said “When all is lost and hope no tno;e is nigh, Life is a sham —our duty is to die.” The knife was already applied, when a Midden thought stopped him : “Ah ! was it really Mol ere that said this, now? I must be very sure of that, for otherwise I shall took exceedingly ridiculous.” Heat once >et about resolving ibis point, and read r hrotiga two or three ot Moliere’s comedies, which, restoring bis good humor, saved his life. BEAUTIFUL SENTIMENT. God lias sent some angels into the world whose office. Is to rcflc-di the sorrow of the poor, and to enlighten the eyes of the des i (date. And what greater pleasure cun we | have, than that we should bring joy to our j brother; that the tongue should be turned from heavy accents, and make the weary soul listen for light and ease; and when we perceive that there is such a thing in th * World, and in the order of things, as comfort and joy, to begin to break out from the prison of his ‘sorrows at the .door of S'ghs and tears, and by little begin to melt into showers and refreshments; this iVglo ry to thy voice, and employment for the brightest angel. So I have seen the sun kiss the frozen ■arth which was bound up with tin* images of death. Ami'the colder breath of the north - ; and then the Waters break from their enclosures and invlt with jov and run in useful channels, and the flies do rise again f ‘>m their little graves in the walls, awhile w be air to tell that joy is within, and that the great mother of creatures will open her store of now refreshments, become use ful to mankind, and sing praises to her Re deemer; so is tin? heart of a sorrowful man under the discourse of wise counsel; he .breaks from the despair of the grave, and the fetters and chains of sorrow—he bless es God and lie blesses thee, and he feels his life be turning; for to be miserable is death; but nothing is life but the comfort er. Goa is please*! with no music below -m much as tin** thanksgiving song of ro ll wed widows ond supported ‘njoicing, comforted and. thankful persons. —Si shop i\ti/lor. d"A^ r;, 'Ts t- YT.r*T? V-. ‘nj ,*u U vaL. Henry Ward Beecher, in a recent lec ture,’says : —“1 m.y here, as well as any where, impnriylhe secret of what is.called good luck an t bad luck. There arc men who, suppo.riug Providence to have an im pl. cable spite against them, bemoan in poverty and a wretched old age the mis fortunes of their lives. Luck forever ran against them and. for others. .One, with a good prof, -cion, lost his luck in the river, where he .idled away Ids lime a fishing, when lie should have been in the office.— Anoth- . wirh a good trade, perpetually burnt up bis kick by ids hot temper, which pivv l ke-i i-1 1 Ids- employers to leave him. 1 A the •, wii h lyerat e business* lost his nek by amazing diligence at everything *<l- ids bu-iuo-o. Another, who steadily : ■hoY.- yi Ids trad.e, as stea ddy followed bis )**;•'Afff'th r, w!;o v..a.s honest and eon au-t at Ids wo:k, erred! by perpetual mis mi ‘dgmeuts; !m lacked discretion. Ilun r di • i>tlmir luck by eudossing; by san guine -y• cul •a’ a;s ; !>v trusting f adulent meiff aed by dishbpest gains. A man ne ver has good luck that has a had wife. I never knew . n early rising, hard working, prudent man, careful of his earnings, and strictly honest, who complained of bad lack. A good character, good habits, and iron industry, arc impregnable to the as saults of all the ill luck that tools ever dreamed of. But when I see a tutterde nmlion, creeping’ out’of a grocery late in the formoun, with his hands stuck into his pockets! ‘the rim of his hat*turned up, and tluv crown knockoff in, I know lie has'bad luck -fwti -. -v -*r -1 of all- luck is to ‘be a shiggar a knhv>'*. .or a tippler.'’ ■ ,sJ>* - fffVO BOORS. . “Don’t look -o cross, fv.hvnrd, when \ cdl ymi back t'V'shul tlih loor; grand moth er te ds tho chid, wintry wind ;’ and besides, von have g’b to spend yotir life shutting doors, an I might c.s well Iv-gin-now.” ** I) > forgive.’ grandmother, f ought to he .shamed to Co-- y*u. But what do you neao? j. aH ‘goimr to-cvdlege, ami then I i*m going to be a lawyer. “” “ *V 11-, ad mi ’ ‘ting all that; j imagine ■dq* ii r’ jf! wa in 1 I w ill hav e- a goo* 1 many do;.* -s to siiuf', if ever he makes lunch 4'a man-.”- “VVlvb't kind"fdooH-? Do toll me, grkiul ymu her.” “Sit •lo.wn mrntite, mvl t-will van a list.” “In t lie first qiliice.,* the deWir <>f your ears nnst be cb>se<! ngumst- bad btuguage and evil counsel of ihe boys and young men you wiii meet. wsi.h ur-yicbool and college. Os you will be'undomjy Let them once get possession of that door, and I would not give much for Edward O.’s future prospects. “The door of your eyes, too, must be shut against bad books, idle novels, and low wicked newspapers, or your studies will be neglected, and you will grow up a useless, ignorant man ; you will have to close them eoumtim.ee against the fine things exposed for sale in the shop win ando WB, or you will never learn to save your money, or have any left to .give away. “The d<Mr of your lips will need especial care, for they guard an unruly member, which makes great use of the bad company let in at the doors of the eves and ears. — Tlmt door is very apt to Mow open,’ and if not constantly watched, will let out angry, trifling, or vulgar words. It. will backbite, sometimes worse than the winter’s wind, if it is left open too long. I would advise you to keep it shut much of the time til! you have laid up a store of knowledge, or at least till you have something valuable to sa v. “The inner door of your heart must be well shut against temptation, for con science, the door-keeper, grows very indif ferent if you disregard bis call ; and some times drops asleep at his post, and when you may think you are doing very well, you are fast going down to ruin. “If you carefully guard the outside doors of the eyes, ears, and lips, you will keep “at many cold blasts of sin, which get in. before you think. ‘’This Shutting doors.’ yon see, Eddy, will be a serious business; one on which your well-doing, in this life and the next, depends.’’ - ...... y..- AUNT HANNAH’S COURTSHIP. BY CLARA AUGUSTA. 0 pee, I was born and brought up in FattleviUe, and yer uncle, he lived over to Pumpkin City. * They allers called it so, he eanse the lolks o\ r er there had a good deal to do with pumpkins. They used to say that Pumpkin City folks eat bread and pies made of pumpkin, used the leaves for pie kivers, the seeds for ten, the stalks for clothes-pins, and the shells—only think of it, child! they hadn’t a bowl over there that warnt made out of pumpkin shells! -But there, you know, if folks couldn’t talk they couldn t say nothin’, and I do happen to know that all that ar’ stuff warnt true. “ W all, one time Deacon Trisingle took it into his head to have a big husking- party. I was acquainted with Jerusha Trisingle, the deacon’s oldest daughter. The deacon, he was a widower, and jerusha had the heft of the work to do, so the day afore the hus kin’ she sent over arter me to come over and help her get ready. I went, and put on mv new calico gownd—there, Imw well do i remember that gownd ! it was a red and valler st ripe, with a sprig of green roses ev ery now and then on it. It was made with short sleeves, so I put on my long sleeved spencer; that was a lore these basket waists cum in fashion; we didn’t have no sicli shaller names in them good old times. “Al ter i was fixed, I went over to the deacon’s. Laws-a-mnssy-sake ! sicli a look ing place asthat ar’kitchen was, i never did see! They had been a-churniti’, and there sot the churn <n the middle ot the floor half lull ot buttermilk ; and the dinner-dishes warnt washed, and the cat was acliliy up in the sink smelling of the butter-ladle. * Wall, I went to work, and the way things had to stun’ round warnt slow, i made all the Feds, and washed the dishes, and set things to rights, and then i done the cooking.— Nakesalive! it did take the master sight of spice and sugar, but Jerusha was determin ed to have things nice, ‘for,’ sez she. ‘pa has gin some of Pumpkin City fellers an invite, and I want them to know that there’s some body in the world besides the city folks!’ “By sunset everything was ready ; the biggest pewter platter was scoured and put in the. best room; for in them days, alter live corn was husked and supper exposed of, it was the custom to rejourn to the fore room and spend an hour or two in *p!av sand •rolling the plate’ was one of the best plays we had, “l sot all the pies on the great meal chist in the rough room to cool, and a smashing lot there was of um. too. • It would hev done your soul good to hev seen um. ‘•By the time we’d got all fixed, the dea con and his hired men come in to lunchon. Deacon Trisingle complimented me on my red cheeks; sard they looked like a big Baldwin apple ! he was a very poetical man, the deacon was. •‘Arter I’d helped Jerusha clear up.and milk. 1 went home to take off’ my spencer and give my hair an extra twist. About seven o'clock I went back agin, and there” was a sight of girls t here, iho men folks had all gone 10 the barn, but the girls want ed to smooth their hairs,so they hadn’t went. There was Debby Bean, and Becky Der bon, and Sally Hedgewoivd, and Polly Dix on, and Kitty Blake: and as the ’pothecaries’ sav about their patent medicines,‘others too humorous to mention.’ “We all went in a heap to the great barn, and there, sot the boys a-huskin’ away like all possessed. Boom was.made for we gals pretty soon, and we was as bizzy as the diz ziest/ Everybody (that is all the boys) was trying to find a red-ear of corn, and the fun about it went round lively. “i kinder cast “sheep’s eyes’ around, and seed a good many strange faces that 1 knew cum from Pumpkin City. Jest between you and I, I took a terrible shine to one fel ler that sot almost opposite to me, lie looked so spry and peart Byme-bye up he jump ed and hollered. ‘l’ve got a red-ear ; now, gals, look out !’ And I tell you, he did flur ish round there among thfc gals to an awful rate. I (Jo believe he kissed Poll Dixon full a dozen times ! (For my part, I never could see what there was so detracting about that ga!,*but all the boys was a trailing artei her ) I felt quite jell us of her, but my jellusy was precipitated when he cum tome. ‘Laws-a massy ]’ sez I, ‘1 never can let you i go away. I ain’t in favor ot s:c!i doing 1’ But he never paid a bit of attention to that, and kissed me bd! as many times as he did Poll Dixon.— (How jellus she was.) I felt my face in a blaze—l was actiliy ashamed. But he sot down beside me, and broke ofTthe liard cobs for me in sich a perlite way, that we soon talked away like old relations. Arter awhile the barn floors was cleared, and the yellow corn lay in big, shiny .heaps by the hay mows. Then all hands of us started for the house. The men, they stopped at the pump to scour up their hands and faces, and we gals got supper ready. “Arter supper was over, we ali went into the fore room and sot down. The old pew ter platter was soon found out, and all hands went to playin’. I don’t know how many times Micajah (the teller that I liked) kicked that platter over on purpose to have me judged; but 1 didn’t, cat e for that, as I most allers had to ki-s Micajah or make a ‘bob sled with Micajah, ora flien-coop’with Mi cajah. “There was a great heap of fire-coals in ine fire-place, for’twas a cool evening, and as Micajah went to kickover the platter as usual, his loot slipped, and that nr’ platter went rite into the middle of them fire-coals ! ilow he did jump. But ’twarnt no use, for afore anybody could ketch it one half of it was melted rite off! M icajah he felt awful ly about it, but Jerusha told him not to lay it to heart so. and we went on with our plays. “Somebody said ‘play Copenhagin.’ I called Jerusha out in the .entry, and sez I. ‘What'll you do for a rope?’ ‘Oh,’ sez she. ’well oncord a bedstead so upstairs we went and tumbled oft beds and bedding,and got tiie bed-cord; and sich a time as they did have with it ! Micajah kept strikin’at my hand all the time. “ vY hen we got ready to go home, the boys all went out doors and stood ready to ketch their lavorite gals as they come out, and don t you think, the minnit I stepped my foot on the doorstep, up cum Micajnh and stuck up his ai mto me. Jest to spite Poll Dixon I took it. “That was the way our ’quaintanceship begun, and afore we'd got to my home, Mi cajah asked trie to ‘keep company* with him. 1 d.dn’t know what to tell him, at first, but I thought of Poll Dixon, and told him I should be happy to see him at our house anv time. “YV all, he didn’t need no second invite, for every Sunday evening over he’d come, drest up ui h s go-to-meeting-ahles, anu there he’d stay till the roosters crowd in the mornin’. Byrne-bye, one evening, or morning rather, jest afore he was a-gwine to start to go home, he give his new hat a twirl or two, buttoned up ins coat, unbuttoned it agin, and sez he, with a dreadful cough that made me shudder, it sounded so much like the coun-h that allers goes with the measels,‘Hannah, I’ve been keeping company with you con siderable of a spell—ahem 1 and fve been thinking of changing my siterwation, and— altem ! in fact. 1 want to marry you !’ “ VVall,)l needn’t tell ye what I said , for you know I had him whether I said yes or no. Poor, dear man i how tickled he was! “You ought to have seen him when our darter Hepzibah Abigail got so’s to go-alone, a tickleder critter you never seed ! Speak ing of her. makes me think, did I ever tell you how Hepzibah Abigail come to be call ed so? Wail, ye see—but there, as true ns I’m alive, there’s that ‘rizin’ to set ” A LIFE-LIKE SKETCH Tell me where the Bible is a household book, and where it is not, and I will write a moral geography of the world. I will show what, in all particulars, is the physical condition of that people. One glance oi your eye-will inform you where the Bible is, and where it is not. Go to Italy—-decay, de gradation and suffering meet you on every side. Commerce droops, agriculture sick ens, the useful arts languish. There is a heaviness in the air; you feel compressed by some invisible power? the people dare not. speak aloud; they walk slowly; an arm ed soldier -is around titeir dwellings , the armed police take from the stranger his Bi ble before he enters the territory. Ask for the Bible in the bookstore —it is not there; or in a form so large and expensive as to be beyond the retich of common people. The preacher takes no text.from the B.bie. You enter the Vatican and inquiie for the Bible, and you will he pointed to some case, where it. reposes among some prohibited books, side-by-side with the works of Diderot and Voltaire. But pass over the Alps to Switz erland and -down the Rhine into Holland, then over the channel to England and Scot land, and over to their descendants —the people of the United States, and what an amazing contrast meets the eye ! Men look and act with an air of independence; there is industry, neatness, instruction for children. YY r h >• is this difference ? There is no bright er sky—there are no fairer scenes of nature —but they have the Bible ; and happy are the people who enjoy such a privilege, for it is righteousness thatexalteth a nation* and sin is a reproach to any people* TERMS: SI.OO IN ADVANCE, JAMES T. BLAIN. I’KIXTEH. VOL. XXII.-NUMBER 10. THE CANARY-BIRD. A good and wise father entered the room where his daughter Rose was seated on a stpoi before a piano. By her side stood a table, on which was a cage covered with a large cloth. It contained a beautiful canary with a bright yellow body, dark wings, and a black spot on the top of his head. It had been presented to the little girl sometime previous. 1 he child was earnestly engaged in piav ing a little air of a home melody, and bend ing eagerly forward to catch the slightest answering sound from the occupant of the cage. Soon the little feathered warbler, hidden from view, whistled a few short notes, then burst forth into a flood of song, and at length sung in answer to the child the air that she had played. “There,” she exclaimed, laughing and gently clapping her hands, “listen, father; 1 have at last taught Cherry one of mv own songs.” She now rose, lifted the covering from the cage, anti advancing towards the open window, hung it on ana 1 near by. The fa ther smiled,and placed his hand affectionate ly upon his daughter’s head, saying, “You have at last, my child, by confining the lit tle bird in a dark cage, taught it to sing so sweetly ; and now that you have taught this little creature its lesson, it will in return teach you a still better and more instructive one. “As with the canary in the darkened cage,” he said, “so is it with man in sorrow. You have made the cage dark till the bird has caught the air you played to it, and its notes are sweeter, because trained in dark ness. So, if Providence sees that it is got.d to darken the life of man with clouds of ad versity, it is for some kind purpose. Trials, if rightly received, bring forth some noble traits in the character, that under a bright, uncloudy sky never have appeared ; and when called out, they shed their kind influ ence upon all around.” The father’s words sunk deep into the heart ot his child. At night when she laid her head upon her pillow, she prayed that whatsoever affliction God might see fit to send upon her, it might work for her good in this world and the next, that she might have strength to bear all and humbly to say, “Hedoethall things well.”— Child's Paper. THE LATEST STYLE OF PUFFING. The faHiion of puffing ministers is now so common that it is not regarded as any evi dence of merit. Yet there are some who are still pleased with it. and they pull their wires bo as to he always in the papers. We have sometimes thought that it would be less trouble to editors, and perhaps answer ju-t as good a purpose, to have a standing puff, a kind ot regular patent medicine advertise ment, oftbeir talents.learningand eloquence. But the latest style of puffing is the fashion which some of our exchanges seems to be adopting of puffing themselves They do not appear to write these articles them selves, but we see little difference, so far as the modesty of the thing is concerned.— They’ publish them, calling, in a blushing editorial, special attention to them. Now a religious editor stands in a similar position to his subscribers, that a minister does to his congregation. What would we think of a minister who would, every Sabbath before preaching, read to his congregation all the complimentary or extravagant remarks that his members had made about him during the week ? Why not a minister do this as well as an editor ? The editor may say that he does it to’ increase his subscription, and so might the minister say that he wanted to in crease his congregation. Just think of a minister reading to his congregation the fol lowing from a brother, stating that it had not been solicited by him, yet he felt it to be a brotherly courtesy to read it: “my ac quaintance with your sermons enables me to speak of your merits, and I cordially re commend'you to your congregation as the ablest minister in the country/’ If a minis ter cannot read such a notice of himself, how can an editor publish it 7 “We cannot see the difference. A JUDGE In’a’tlGHT PLACE. Incidents connected with the use of intox icating drinks as a beverage, which a few years ago would have passed unnoticed, now attract especial attention. Dr. 8., who, by the way, is rather a staunch triend ofthe temperance cause, hap pened not long since at the house of his friend Judge ——; who, although a church member, is sadly behind the times as to the temperance reform. Seated at the dinner table, as was very proper, the Judge invok ed the divine blessing upon their repast. — This done, arose from the table, and taking from the side-board a bottle of brandy, and filling some glasses, tendered one to the Doc tor, who declined drinking but looked so quizical as to excite the Judge’s curiosity* who asked him what was the matter. The Doctor said, “1 was wondering. Judge, why you didn’t say grace over the bottle. If it is one of the good things of God to be re ceived with thanksgiving, why not ask a blessing on it ? I was wondering whether you thought it was good enough without a blessing; or whether you really ielt ashamed to ask God to bless it.” It is thought it was the most difficult question the Judge “was , ever called upon to decide. Query—are I there not other church members who would j find it difficult to answer the question?—J Tmp* Wrtaik, I