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JOHN HENRY SEALS, )
“t> > Editors.
L. LINCOLN YEAZEY, )
NEW SERIES, VOL. I.
TEMPERANCE CRUSADER.
fc mm rn
rvnusaFV
EVERY SATURDAY, EXCEPT TWO, IX THE YEAR, j
BY JOHN H. SEALS.
TERMS I
SI,OO, in lulvance; or $2,00 at the end of the year.
RATES OF ADVERTISING.
1 aqnare (twelve lines or first insertion,. .$1 00
Each continuance, •• • 50
Professional or Business Cards, not exceeding
six lines, per year, 5 00
Announcing Candidates for Office,.... 3 00 j
* STANDING ADV ERTIBEMJENTB.
1 square, three months, 3 00 J
1 square, six months, J 00 j
1 square, twelvemonths, 12 00
2 squares, “ “ 18 00 |
*3 squares, “ “ 21 00 ;
4 squares, “ “ - • —25 00 j
Advertisements not marked with the number J
of insertions, will he continued until forbid, and j
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,... 500
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 Adm’n. 5 00
Citation for Letters of Dismission from Guardi
anship, 8 25
LEGAL REQUIREMENTS.
Sales of Land and Negroes, bv Administrators,
f Executors, or Guardians, arc required by law to be
held on the 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 day a previous to the
day of sale.
Notices for the sale of Personal Property must be
■given at least ten days previous to the day of salo.
Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an Estate must
be published forty days.
Notice that application will be made to the Court
ofjQrdinary for leave to sell Land or Negroes, must
be published weekly for two months.
Citations for Letters of Administration must be
published thirty days— for Dismission from Admin
istration, monthly , six months —for Dismission from
G’Jiirdinnshin ihrt.v S/m* _T T' O_
fished monthly for jour month —ior compelling titles
from Executors or Administrators, where a bond has
been given by tho deceased, the full space of three
month.
will always be continued aceord
mg to these, the legal requirements, unices otherwise
ordered.
The Law of Newspapers,
~ Subscribers who do not give express notice to
1 .he contrary, arc considered a wishing to continue
t Mr subscription.
‘2. 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 refuso 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. Ifstibscribers remove to other places without
informing the publishers, and the newspapers are
sent to tho former direction, they aro Held responsi
ble.
5. The Courts have decided that refusing to take
newspapers from the office, or removing and leaving
them uncalled for, D prime fade evidence of inten
tional fraud.
fi. The United States Courts have also repeatedly
decided, that a Postmaster who neglects to perform
his duty of giving reasonable notice, as required by
the 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 the subscription price.
I ( r
JOB PRINTING-,
us every description, done with neatness and dispatch,
at this ounce, and at reasonable prices for cash. All
orders in this department, must be addressed to
J. T. BLAIN.
prospectrs
or THE
TEMPERANCE HR.
[gCOXOAMI
TEMPERANCE BANNER.
ACTUATED by a conscientious desire to further
the cause of Temperance, and experiencing
great disadvantage in being too narrowly ifcnited 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 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 he called, “THE 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 ” and, like the “Hebrew children,” re-appeared
unscorched. It has survived the newspaper famine
which has caused, and is still causing many excel
lent journals and periodicals to sin<, like bright ex
halations in the evening,” to rise no more, and it has
evtni 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,”
U now waging an eternal “Crusade” against the “In
fernal Liquor Traffic,” standing like the “High Priest”
of the Israelites, who stood between the people and
ihe 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
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.
scar-Prce. as heretofore, sl, stnctly in advance.
JOHN H. SEALS,
Editor and Proprietor.
, penfield, G*, Dec. B,IBM.
gktttfr to ftmptrana, Poralitj, ptenttort, Central Intelligence, Beta, ftt.
WHY EUNICE PLATT TAUGHT SCHOOL
BV FRANCKS D. GtGfe.
“And so Eunice is.married again
“Yi>, she hue left us, nd I suppose that
her husband will now engross all to hun-j
self, that which has been such a comfort
and blessing to our wbo! neighborhood
for six years. We always loved Eunice,
even in her girlhood. “Rut when she was
left a widow, with a babe in her arms, de
pendent npon her own efforts, and all
found iier strong and self-reliant, so ready
| to till her place; anywhere and everywhere;
! never sighing and groaning over misfbr
j tunes that could not be helped; bnt meet
i ing firmly all the difficulties that rose up
|in her path, and moving them away with
j a resolute hand, if she conid, and, if not,
1 passing round or clambering over, and
| with cheerful endeavor struggling on—we
j Earned to feel that Eunice Platt was ipor*
j than a common woman. She found a home
| in every heart, for to every one she gave
j portion of her strength and resolution, in
some way that made them better within
themselves. Her example—~l mean her
every step, as she passed through the vil
lage,” was so buoyant and light, so full ol
hope and energy, that the boys had to
quicken their pace, as if by instinct; and
! every girl in the whole town became mor*
j thoughtful and useful from her influence.
I The mother pointed to Eunice Platt, and
the fathers failed not to say, ‘lf Eunice
Platt wasn’t a widow with a baby I should
want our Tom, or Sam, or Frank, tube
looking that way.’ But she’s goue now, I
don’t see who is to take her place.”
“Has she done well ?”
“Oh, her husband is as rich as a Jew; she
never need to do a stroke of work again, if
she don’t just please to do ao. They
he kept his first wife a real lady. Dressed
her splendidly, kept his carriage, took her
to Saratoga or Cape May, every summer,
and to Washington and New York every
wiuter, and allowed her to do just as she
pleased everywhere.”
“Well, that’s nice, and 1 am glad Eunice
xn fi riiKing care of herself so
long.”
“Yes, and then to think of the way she
was brought to it. Raised to have every
want supplied, and marrying with a for
I tnneuaf her own, and giving it into her
; husband’s hands—through pure love.”
; “How was that, I never heard about it?”
“Did you not. Why Eunice, you know,
was the youngest daughter of old Squire
Ash brook, up at Ash brook Comers, and
when “she married he gave her twenty
thousand dollars in land and monev. Hem
ry Platt had a small capital, and Eunice’s
twenty thousand was quite a get-up for
him. Her money was soon invested and
her land pledged for more than k was
worth, (I say her’s, of course it was all his
then, by the laws of New York.) Well, all
things went on first-rate for a year or two.
‘But easy won easy lost,’ is an old and true
saying. He dashed ahead too fast, trusted
i everyoody, made bad bargains, and finally
took, to drinking; (is it not strange that
men who ca 1 themselves §o strong, will
take to drink when trouble comes ?) well
a* l was saying betook to drink,and things
grew worse and worse. The sheriff was
even at his heels, and at last, when he could
go no further-—when the creditors made
a sweep all at once he found himself lost.,
in his madness and despair he took arsenic
and made an end of himself, leaving Eu
i nicb to brave life and its storms alone—her
I health broken by her sorrows, her pros
perity all gone, and a child to be suppor
ted. Oh, it was beautiful then to see how
quietly she gathered tip her strength for
the conflict. She settled up the estate as
well as she could, leaving nothing for her
self, nor murmuring that no dower was
♦est her—only regretting that there was
one creditor to be left unpaid.
“Yes, Mrs. Murphy, to my knowledge ;
the beautiful, fashionable, and accomplish
ed Eunice Platt—when she rented her
cottage here after giving up her splendid
home, hud not one dollar to pay her rent.
But no one ever heard a murmur from her
lips. She used sometimes to say : ‘I am
teaming now what I should have learned
years ago, how to take care of myself;’ then
| she would smile exultingly. k Nev.r too
| old to learn, you know, Mrs". Smith.”
| Such was the conversation that passed
j between two ladies in a New York village,
| hid away among the hills—no matter
j where. A year or two after, the samela
| dies met again, and with their knitting
j work were gossiping away an evening
| hour in another village, some hundreds of
j miles distance from the spot where the a
! hove conversation was held.
“Seems to me, Mrs. Murphy, there’s a
new order of things springing up in your
house, since I was here last. You used
then to clear away the tea things, and stay
iu the kitchen half the evening, and come
back to the parlor sighing and declaring
that girls made slaves of their mothers,
now a days; that yonr’s were not worth a
cent, and you never expected they would
be till they were forced into it, by having
homes of their own, and husbands to fret
if all things were not kept in ‘apple-pie’
order. Ido not see but Abby and Myra
do things up as well as you used to do,
PEMTELD, OA, SATURDAY, MAY 10, 185 ft,
aid you seem to be taking it as easy * |
needs be.”
“Well, yes, and ‘thereon hangs a taie.’;
Do you remember when I was down here j
uwo years ago, to st-e you at W ——. You j
told me along story about your nice school-
mistress, Eunice Platt, who was just then ;
married to .Justice Faenstock, the rich |
banker of R r.”
“Yes. It was a sad day for W |
when she left. We all wished the rich
Tanker and his gold at the bottom of tht
sea, we have never had her equal as a
teacher in our school since. We did think
it wicked to spoil such a good school inarm,
just to make a fashionable housekeeper for
Mr. Faenstock; I always feel vexed when
I think of it. Any flatterer might have
graced his gorgeous parlors, and spoiled hU
boys and girls with fashion, folly, am’
ceremony, as well as Eunice Platt ; an
she might have been left to have trained
hundred-; into the path of duty and useful
ness. But then she wanted a home, I sup
pose, and a chance to live easier, and 1
don’t blame her. You will hardly believe
me when I tell you that she is teaching om
school, Mrs. Smith.”
“Teaching your school! You mean to
sty that Mrs. Faenstock is teaching?”
“Why ves, Ido. She has been teaching
a year, and has a school for young la lie:?
in the second parlors of her own house, anu
a good school it is, too.”
“Eunice Platt teaching school again, in
her own house and here. Has she quar
reled with her husnand? Has he broke,
or what does it mean ?”
“No! shehas not quarreled with her
husbaud, nor has he broke. It means just
this:
“Mr. Faenstock has retired, as the say
ing is, and desired a country residence tor
himself and family, and no place could b,
found more beautiful than Elm Grove, just
outside our village, looking down into C
Lake. There he built his splendid resi
dence and brought his new wife, iiis son,
daughter, and her son. A few months
passed on, Mrs. Faenstock made herself a
great favorite with our people. You know
Row aristocratic and fashionable our folks
are. Our girls have all been sent away to
TSeir 1 lat'heria ‘wealth ‘ and” ~ position, anu
like my girls were coming into wo
manhood witii the full belief that labor
or the earning of one’s own living was re
ally disgraceful.
• KTbink of our astonishment when Mrs.
Faenstock—the very life of our fashiona
ble circle, our banker’s wife, proffered to
teach a school of twenty-five young ladies in
her own house, all the highest branches ot
an English education and French Gram
mar, Drawing, Painting, Music and Dan
cing, for ten dollars per term. Os course
her school room was soon filled to over
flowing, and you see one evidence of the
result of her examples in my girls.”
“But what could have induced her to
such a step? I hope she has not become
stingy and grasping.”’
“No! She says that her household cares
were not enough to fill up the full measure
of her existence. Even calls, visitors, and
dress still left unappropriated hours. She
longed for a useful independent life; and
felt that it was as wrong for her to live to
be supported by another, as for those les.-
fortunate in life.
“She knew that no one worth regarding
would look upon her ae being less worthy
because she was doing good. She know
too that her example now, was worth ten
fold more than when necessity was the j
cause which impelled her to duty. Ami
I tell you her example is doing wonders,
Mrs. Smith. Our young girls begin to
feel that the old adage : ‘is is beautiful in
woman to be dependent,’ is as false as it
hath hitherto been injurious. Not a schol
ar in our school but what is striving to
make herself of service at home and a
broad. You would be astonished to see
the effect which a few months hare pro
duced in our social circles. Bread-making,
gardening and dish-washing, have become
the fashion; and it would excite you to a
smile to note how proud some of our belles
are to show off their new accomplishments,
or at least, to boast of them before their
male friends. Dine at Judge Howe’s ana
you will be sure before dinner is over t<-
have a sly insinuation from Miss Orn, that
she made the bread, or cooked some part
of the dinner. Walk in the garden, and
she will remind you that she trimmed that’
grass-plot, nailed up the trellis, or twine*i
the Jessamines with her own hands.
“So it is everywhere. I never could
have believed that one woman—even with
beauty, learning and wealth, could so havt
turned the whole current of fashion n **
fashionable conn try resort in one short
year, ’Tis wonderful,
“More shame for those who have the
power of doing good, that they hold back
their hands, ten of the most wealthy -and
leading women in every town or village,
might, if they would, change the whole so
cial order. Men of wealth, think it un
manly and ignoble, to live without some
ostensible business—some means of acquir
ing each day their daily bread, even if
they spend ten times the amount in ways
and means, that best suits them. Thus
labor for manhood becomes respectable,
and the work of the head and the hands,
are every day assitnulating and acknowl
edging each other at equals. When will
woman learn to feel that to proem-’ her;
owl subsistence is imt only respectable,
but honorable. “When will-those who as- i
sumo the leadership of society, give -x- j
ampies of independence and usefulness to!
those whom they know have need to toil. 1
and give them strength for the duties that ;
deceive upon them? E; erv unfortunate j
woman in our land needs thi* help.
“We are everywhere deploring the di*-;
gust with which onr American women look :
upon honest labors; we may jhmaefa Mrs.
and talk and pray till doomsday. j
it will grow worse instead of butter denotes
all our efforts, if women who have tiie pow j
er of education, wealth and position, do;
not set the example for those that have ;
neither.
“While every laboring woman, from the
towher down to the washerwoman, apolo-;
gizes for her industry, and tells with ap- j
parent humiliation that she labors ‘becaust. ;
it. ie necessary she should do something j
md hints that she hopes the time will
come when she shall not be obliged to
toil,’ we. need expect no elevation for tin*
laboring woman. The workers must dig
lily themselves by boldly saying, ‘w
■vork because labor is duty, worship, lovk
—w<rk because no human soul has air
tight to idle. Because it makes ns better,
-Monger and happier, and had we thou
sands at our command, we would still be
useful and strive each day to fill up om
ueasnre of existence with something that
should do ourselves and the world about
us good.’
“Oh! it is debasing to spend a life in
idleness or in trifles that give no assuranct
that we are living true and earnest lives.
And how terrible when we must lay our
heads nightly upon our'pillow, aching with
the consciousness that vve have done evil,
y setting examples that heip to depress
the poor and struggling, and to widen the
gulf between riches and poverty, by im
pressing npon the public mind more deep
ly the crushing idea that it is a disgrace
for a woman to be independent through
her own endeavors.”
“And that’s why Eunice Platt, now Mrs.
Faenstock, of Elm Gnwy- ‘ n ” . ru ; n reui vu
u—woe, Teaches school, is it?
“\eß, and God bless her noble generous
trust.”— ’ Woman?x Advocate.
A CURE FOR TbOLITIONISM.
Not many years since, in one of the
“Platte counties,” lived a wealthy and hos
pitable gentleman. His house being on one
of the public highways, he frequently had
to entertain travellers. One evening just
as the sun was setting, a young, well dress
ed traveller, mounted on u fine horse, rode
up, and, in a rather important manner, in
formed “the Major” that he wanted to stay
all night. He was courteously invited to
alight, and a negro man was called to attend
to his horse.
From the peeifhar accent he gave the
word “down,” when ordering the man to
be careful and have his horse well rubbed
deoun, “the Major,” knew he was from an
infected district. At supper, the disease be
gan to develop itself,and the deoun east gent
commenced a regular lecture upon the sin
of slavery—that negroes were the equals ot
the white men, and should be treated as
such—-that the Major should in justice set
his negroes tree and recognize them as
equals. The Major humored the matter by
discussing it with the deoun east guest till
bed time, when, upon heing desired to show
him to Iris bed, quietly called Jack, his negro
man, and ordered him to take the gentleman
| to the kitchen and give him part ot his bed.
Perfectly thunderstruck, the abolition gent
finally found breath to ask what the Major
meant. “I mean,” said the Major, raising
hs tall, portly form to its full height, and
looking sternly at the Yankee, “to make you
reduce your theory to practice.” The abo
litionist. implored, but the Major was inexo
rable, and off Jack took him to his own bed,
knowing from his master’s eye that he must
be obeyed to the letter. After some two
hours elapsed, the Major we.-t out and call
ed to his now crest-fallen guest to get. up.
and he might sleep the rest of the night in
his “house?” Early in the morning the Yan
kee called him up, :ind after apologizing foi
his rudeness in preaching his abolition doc
trines the night before. informed the Major
that upon testing his principles, he found
they would not work satisfactorily, and that
he was no longer an abolitionist. —Squatter
Sovereign.
BE CAREFUL HOW YOU SPEAK.
Stop ! Do you know what you are say*
mg? Those few words may have a tenden
cy to injure forever the character ol anoth
er. “1, meant no harm !” That is no ex
cuse. In the presence of strangers your
language would be differently construed,
and the reputation of a pure-minded person
might be forever destroyed. Have a care
how you speak—especially while surround
ed by a scandal-foving neighborhood, who
would gladly seize hold of the faintest pre
text to draw a false covering over ihe heart
ot purity. A single word sometimes,
thoughtles-ly spoken, has produced tearful
results, and blasted the hopes of a spotless
character. Because you mean nothing by
your language, is no excuse for you. It 1,
in sport, set fire to a pile of shavings that
consumes your dwelling, will the law clear
me of intentional wrong ? I had no right to
be playing with the fire. Neither have you
a right to be using slanderous words in sport. |
*
Everybody dmvn’t know your intention, i
nor .-ce through your meaning. Stop, then, i
where vou are: <ym speak only ino wo:<n
of sober tv* uh.— l\ ; whprgJt j ./mv.
CITiEf JUSTICE MLS.
.A gentleman, v. no possesses .m .estate m i
the eastern p:<i i. o. England worth live /mn
dtreu pounds a year, h tvyo sons the
: oh* estV b ein g of; i. mi noting-(hsporilm n. we >i t
: abmnd. After several years, the father
\ died. The younger son destroyed the will
land seized on the estate. He gave out that
t his elder brother was dead, and bribed w il
lnesses to attest, it.
In the course of time, the elder brother
; iu miserable circumstances. The
i younger ’ brother repuls.-d him with scorn,
i suviiur tlcif he was an imposter and a cheat
| that his rev 1 brother was dead long ago.
j and he could bn>£ witnesses to prove it.
| The real broth*' 1 *- haying neither money •
i nor friends, was in a dismal situ lion. At,
last he found a lavvver vv hoagi eed. (as *>c i
had nothing to pay him.) y e vv<,u [
give him one thousand guinea s ’
took ami gamed the case, he w f ’ a ‘ ac ”
him—to which he assented. The c a evVaS
to be tried at the next General AsSi. zeS ’
j Chelmsford, Essex. ,
| ‘ihe lawyer being now engaged,beset n. ‘ S
j wits to obtain success. At iast lie though? |
| lie would consult the first judge of j hat age. I
* Lord Gael Justice Hale; accordingly he I
j hastened to London, and laid open the case
| and ail its circumstances. The judge, who
was a great lover ot justice, listened atten- :
tively, and promised trim alt the ass.sianee
in his power, ihe iawver huvmg taken ,
leave, the judge contrived so as to mi sh ah ‘
his business at the King’s Bench before the!
Chelmsford A.-sizes began. He Waited tor
Chelmsford, and when within a short dis- :
tance ot that place, he dismissed ins horse, j
and sought, for a private house. He found
one occupied by a mJier.
After some conversation, making himself
very agreeable, he proposed to the m.iler to
change clothes with him ; and a* the judge
had a good suit on, the miller did not object
Accordingly the judge put on a complete
01,1 °j l! *e miner's-oesf. .VOorned with a
j millet n hat,siloes, and stick,a wav he ma i di
ed to Chelmsford, where he procured lodg
ings against the Ass.zes next day. When
the t rad came on, he walked like an ignb
iant follow, backwards and forwards aion (T
the country hall, anu when the court, began
;<o fill, he found out the poof-fellow who was
the plaintiff.
As soon as he came into the hall, the mil- j
ler drew up to him : * j
“Honest friend, how is your case like to i
do to-day ?”
“ Why,” replied the plaintiff, “my ease is
in a very precarious situation, and if I lose
it 1 am ruined for fife,”
“Well, honest friend,” replied the miller,
‘ will you take my advice? I will let vou
into a secret which, perhaps vou do ‘not
know Every Englishman has a right and
privilege to except any one-juryman through
the whole twelve ; now do you insist noon
your privilege without giving a reason why,
and it possible, get me crio-cn in his room,
and s will do you all the service in my pow
er.”
Accordingly when the clerk called over
the names of the jurymen, the plaintiff ex
cepted to one oi them. The judge on the j
bench was highly offended with this.
“What do you mean.” said he, “by ex-1
cepting that gentleman?”
“I mean to assert my privilege as an Eng
lishman, without giving a reason why.”
The judge, who had been highiv bribed. |
m order to conceal if by a show of candor.’
an*i confident n the supcnorii v ot ms pow
er, said:
*'V\ eil. sir, as you claim \ >ur privilege in
one instance. ! will grant it. Whom would
you like to have in pla e ot the man except
ed r
Alter a short time occupied in conddera
tion, he said :
“My Lord, I wish to have an honest man
chosen in,” and looking around, ‘-that miller
vve will have him, it-you please.” Accord
ingly the miller was chosen.
As soon as the clerk of the court had giv
en them all I heir oaths, a dexterous fellow
came into the apartment, and slipped ten
cal louses into the hands of eleven ot the ju
rymen. and gave the miller only five.
He obsei ved that they were all bribed, as I
well as luinsed, and said lo Ins next neigh
bor, in a soil whisper:
“How much have you got?”
“ Ten p.eces,” said he. The'miller did
not say what he had.
ihe case was opened by the pla ntiff’s
counsel, and all the scraps of evidence they
could pick up, weie adduced in ii.s favor.
The defendant had a great number of wit
nesses and pleaders, all bribed as well as
the judge. The evidence deposed . hat they
were m the sell-same country when the
brother d.cd, and saw him buried; and eve
ryth, ng went with a 1 ul tide for the young
er brother.
The judge summed up with great gravity
and deliberation :
“And now, gentlemen of the jury, bring
in your vei diet as you shall deem most just.”
In a few minutes the judge sad, - Are you
agreed? YVho shall speak lor you?”
“We are all agreed ; our foreman shall
speak for us.’
“H<>ld. my Lord.” replied the m Her, “we
are n<i ; 1 dgrevd.”
I “ W hy,” said the judge, in a <ui ly manner,
C TERMS: #I.OO IN ADVANCE
] JAMES TANARUS, BLAIN,
f l*ttll¥'l'Ell.
VOL XXIL-RLMBER 18.
“ what is the matter witbyou —what reason
have you for disagreeing.”
“I have several reasons, my Lord, re
plied the miller “First, they have given all
the gentlemen of the jury ten broad pieces
of gold, and me only five, which is not fair.
And besides, I have many objections t,>
rn ike to the fal e reasoning of the pleaders,
and the contradictory evidence ©i the wit
nesses.**
f/non this the miller discovered such a
va-t*penetration of judgment and extensive
j knowledge of I iv.’ that it astonished the
j iudge and the whole court. \s be was go*
jlng on. the judge in surprise, stopped him.
•and Whei e©id you come irom, and who are
you?’ he asked.
-I came from Westminster Hall.” replied
! the miller. ‘-My name is Matthew Hale,
: Loid < hies Justice ofthe King’s Bench. I
! have observed the iniquity of your proceed-
ings this day: therefore come down from
thd sent vou are in no way worthy to h* Id.
I You are One of the corrupt parties in this
; iniquitous business. I will come up this
moment and try the whole case over again.
Accordingly Lord Matthew went up in
■ his miller’s'dress and hat. began the trial
j from the commencement, and searched ev
i erv circumstance of truth and falsehood;
i he evinced the elder brother’s title to the es
tate. and gamed a complete victory in favor
t nub and justice.
STUCK UP FOLKS.
A those people, they are so
“i don't hkt was the remark we
| dreadtu.lv stuck u,_ What are “stuck up*’
heard the other day. - have he,°U look-
I people, thought we. and Wt i a nv
i tig about to see if we could fin., i- yonder
th> you see that young man ovei ~zz\
leaning against the post of that hotel* pic. J j
; twirling a shadow walking stick, now anu
then coaxing the hair on his lip and vvatch
| uig every lady that passes, not that he cares
: to see them, but is anxious to know whether
! they are observing him; lie belongs lo the
j “stuck up folks. s\ hat is the occasion ?
Weil, lie happens to have a rich father, and
| a tooiish. vam mother, who has taught him
I that lie isn’t “common folks,” and that pov
je*-ty ‘.s almost the same as vulgarity and
i meanness, and so he has become “stuck up;”
I he doesn t take pains to learn anything, for
; he does not feel the need of knowing any
! more ; he does not work, lor he has'neveV
j ■ equ red it, and he is so extensively -stuck
! up, Uiat lie hasn’t the feast idea that lie vviil
! e\er come down — he doesn’t know, how
ever.
“There goes a young woman—ladv she
(.aiis hei self with the most condescending
air IO nobody in particular, and an all perva
d ng consciousness that she has not earned
the salt she eats, knows a little, verv little.
°i a good many things, and nothing tlior-
of anything; is most puzzled lest she
; s,w,l!d . be puzzled to make a selection out of
ing for her. she supposes : she is one of the
••snn-k up folks,’’ and that is about all she is.
j That oit ‘ gentleman over the way, barrica
; ded ‘a ith hati a yard ot shirt collar, guarded
j by a S°ld neaded cane, with a pompous pa
;ti onizing air—do you see him ? Well he is
I one of the “stuck up” too. He has been so
j about ten years, since he got off his leather
j apron, and began to speculate successfully
lin real estate. !’he r e are other fools dfthis
i class, some “stuck up by having at. some
time been constable, justice of the peace, an
alderman, and in various other ways thev
get “stuck up” notions. They are not proud
people, tor they do not rise to the dignity of
uride; they are not distinguished folks,* for
.'sey have not the ability or character
eno gn to make them so ; the-e are i.ist
what they seem to be, “stuck up”—let them
‘'tick.
EXCESSIVE EATING.
fn a letter to Lord Murry, found in the
life of Sidney Sm.th, lately* published, the
latter says:
on are, 1 hear, attending more, to diet
than he etoibre. If you wish for anything
like happiness in the fifth act of life, eat and
drink about half what you could eat and
drink. Did I ever toil you my calculation
about eating and drinking ? Having ascer
tained the weight of what I could live upon
so ns to preserve health and strength, and
what l and and hve upon, I found that between
ten and seventy years of age 1 had eaten
and di unk 44 horse-wagon loads of meat
and drink more than would have preserved
me in life and health ! The value of this
m iss of nourishment I consider to be about
£7,000 sterling. It occurred to me that I
must, by my voracity, have starved to death
fully one hundred. This is a frightful calcu
lation. but. irresistibly true; and 1 think, dear
Murray, your wagons would require an ad
ditional horse each !”
GOD IN HISTORY,
“The prayer of the patriarch, when he
des red to behold the Divinity lace to face,
was denied ; hut he was able to catch a
gl.mpse of Jehovah, after he had p is-ed by;
and so it fares with our search for him in tne
wrestling ot die world. It is when the hour
of conti ct. is over, that history comes to a
right .understanding of the stiife, and is
ready to exclai n : *Lo ! God is here, and we
knew it not.’ At the foot of every page in
the annals of nations may be written, ‘God
reigns.’ Events as they pass away ‘pro
da m their great or guiul;’ and it you Will
butl.aten reverently, you may hear ihe re-