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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-