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•WIN HENRY SEALS, ) ANI) > Editors. L LINCOLN VfAXEY.) NEW SEJffiiS, VOL. 1 I‘L'lil !SilKl> tVBI|V RATfRiHAY, EXCfiPT TWO, L\ r THE YEAH, RY JOHN H. SF.A3FS. TERMS: SV ! O, in advance; or S2,W at the end of the year. RATES OK AT>VT.RTTSTNG. i square (twelve lines or less) first insertion,..! 00 Finch continuance, 50 ihuf-ssional ov Business Cards, not exceeding six lines, per year, 5 00 Anuouncing Candidates for Ollicc, 3 00 ST AN W Xft ADV ORTrs KM E NTS. .1 square, three months 5 oO 1 square, six months, V 00 1 square, twelvemonths, 12 00 2 squares, “ u 18 00 8 squares, “ “ 21 00 1 squares, “ “ 25 00 59^"Advertisements not marked with the number >i insertions, will he continued until forbid, and charged accordingly. Druggists, and others, may con tract for advertising by the year, on reasonable terms. LEGAL AIJV ERTISEMKNTS. 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, 8 25 Notice to Debtors and Creditors, 8 25 Notice for Leave to Sell, 4 00 Citation for Letters of Administration, 2 75 Citation for Letters of Dismission from Adm’n. 5 00 Citation for Letters of Dismission from Guardi anship, fi 35 LEG AI. 11EQ Li K Mil EX! S. Sales of Land and Negroes, by Administrators, 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 days previous to the | day of sale. Notices for the sale of Personal Property must be given at least tea days previous to the day of sale. Notice to Debtors and Creditors cf an Estate must be published forty days. Notice that application will be made to the Court of Ordinary for leave to sell Land or Negroes, must be published weekly for tw months. Citations for Letters of Administration must be published thirty days —for Dismission from Admin istration, monthly, six irionth# —for Dismission from Guardianship, forty days. Rules for Foreclosure of Mortgage must be pub lished monthly fur four ‘months —for compelling titles from Ex ecu tore or 1 Administrators, where a bond has been given by the deceased, the full space of three months. 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. 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 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 are sent to the former direction, they are held responsi ble. 6. The Courts have decided that refusing to lake newspapers from the office, or removing and leaving them uncalled for, is prhna facie evidence of inten tional fraud. 6. 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. JOB PRINTING, of every description, done with neatness and dispatch, at this office, and at reasonable prices for cash. All orders, in this department, must be addressed to J. T. BLAIN. I*K OS I* E C ‘jC-lJ S OF THE TEMPERANCE (MIDI, [(JUOJTDAMI TEMPERANCE BANNER. ACTUATED by a conscientious desire to further the cause of Temperance, and experiencing great disadvantage in being too narrowly limited in space, by the smallness of out paper, for the publica- ! tion of Reform Arguments mid Passionate Appeals, we have determined to enlarge it to a more conve nient and acceptable size. And being conscious of the fact that there aie existing in the minds of a large portion of the present readers of the Banner ami its former patrons, prejudices and difficulties which can never be removed so long as it retains the name, we venture also to make a change in that par ticular. It will henceforth be called, “THE TEM PERA MCE CRUSADER.” This old pioneer of the Temperance cause is des tined yet to chronicle the triumph of its principles. It has stood the test —passed through the “fiery fur nace,” and, like the “Hebrew children,” re-appeared unscorehed. It has survived the newspaper fa-mine which has caused, and is still causing many excel lent journals and periodicals to sink, like “bright.cx halatic ns in the evening,” to rise no more, and it has even heralded the “death struggles of many contem poraries, laboring for the same great end with itself It “still lives,” and “waxing bolder as it grows older,” is now waging an eternal “Crusade'’ against the “In fernal Liquor Traffic,” standing like the “High Priest” of the Israelites, who stood between the people and the plague that threatened destruction. We entreat the friend* 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, isppricc,* as heretofore, |L strictly jn advance. TOTIN’ 11. SEALS, Editor nnd Proprietor. ■ Penfield, Ga.. Dec. 6, ISfti. ictofcfr to fapttmih p.0m1% Siktatiur feed futiipce, ffans, fit. Fr au the Signet and Journal. The Belle’s ITisifc to tire Country., BY M.tSS V. AY. T> Alt I* Eli. “Ifon; arc cool mosses deep. And through the moss the ivies creep And Ut the stream the long-leaved flowers weep.” Charlotte Bennett clapped Lor two chub by bands together and laughed a short, but merry laugh. 4 I mu so glad,’ she stfid. 4 So very glad.’ *GUu about what i asked old Mr. Bon :ietf, !u-r father. ‘lt strikes me that you are always finding something to he glad •a boob You laugh in the morning—sing .-it noon, and dance a- night. What has occurred nmn to make you merry V Chariot to thrust her hand’ into her poc ket and drew forth a letter. ‘lt is from Cousin Martha Lane, the hello,’ she said, glancing at the old gentleman, while she unfolded it; bind she is coining up to Eden ton to stay all Summer. It will be such a pleasure to have her here. Her society will he a treat to me in this lonesome, far away place; and then she-is so beautiful and accomplished that she will attract crowds of visitors to- the house. Harvey Green, who met -with her in the city last winter, says that she is a perfect queen in appearance. She plays and sings de lightfully and always has a crowd about her. Ain’t you glad father, that she is coming out hero ? Won’t it be . delightful having such a brilliant creature at Eden ton ?’ ‘I don’t know,’ said the old gentleman slowly and thoughtfully, at the same time extending his hand for the epistle. ‘I hope that you will find if so, but somehow I was never a very great admirer of brilliant wo men. I like to see a rosy cheek, a bright eye, and elastic step as any body. I do not object to a. woman who can dance and sing—but a belle Lottie! Heaven save me from a belle ! In nine cases out often, that only is another word for coquette.’ 4 0 father, how can yon say so! That is one of your old fashioned notions, I am sure. 1 wish that I was beautiful, but I shall be plain little Lottie Bennett to my grave. Heigh—limn ! Well, there is no use in murmuring over one’s lot. Maybe she will learn me some of her line airs and graces, and then I shall become interest ■imj to say the least,’ and Lottie glided a,- way with a step, which was half a skip, (it was so light and airy), to look after some household duty.’ ‘Humph !’ exclaimed the old man, men tally, as his eye-followed her slight form. •She does not need a city belle’s example. She is interesting, beautiful even, in my eyes, already.,’ The first day in June came, and with it the city bell , with boxes, bundles and packages innumerable. The little bird’s nest affair of a cottage at Eden ton was full almost to overflowing, and Lottie Bennett opened her hazel eyes with astonishment at the elegant looking being who followed all these trunks and band-boxes into the house. Martini Lane was in truth a queen ly personage. She was tall and stately— her face was rosy, dimpled and charming, her hair flowed in natural ringlets to her waist, and she had the air and manner of one accustomed to much praise and fash ionable adulation. She courtesied languid ly, half condescendingly to old Uncle •John Bennett and his chubby little daugh ter, Lottie, and then went away to change her apparel, and recover from the fatigue of her journey ! ‘O, isn’t she beautiful ? Oh, isn’t she elegant ?’ exclaimed, Lottie, as the door closed upon her visitor’s retreating form. Uncle John shook his bead. 4 IF; shall see,’ he said, ai.d after utter ing this laconic sentence be went out. It was six o’clock when the visitor, in a beautiful evening dress, sauntered from her apartment. She sat down in the little \vo6dbine-cov ered porch, and with a discontented eye gazed over the broad expanse of beautiful woodland, which stretched a way for miles in front of John Bennett’s house. ‘Lor, gracious!’ she said at length toiler cousin, ‘how dull ami stupid it must be living in such a lonesome place as this.— Don’t you half die of ennui f ‘Oh nop said Lottie. 4 lt is not much like a city hte to be sure, but I always find enough to do. There are the chickens to be looked, after, and the garden to be at tended to, and the house to betaken care of, and company to be entertained, and moreover there is almost always somebo dy sick in the neighborhood who ought to be visited and aided. 1 never find time to be dissatisfied and lonely. Now you have come, I am sure life here will be pleasant er than ever.’ •Do you have much company to enter tain V said the belle, with a slight degree of interest in her tone. 4 J like to see com pany in the evening, when I am dressed, but company in the morning is a perfect bore. When lam in the city 1 always .send word to the door thaf I am not at home, if anybody happens to call before dinner.’ ‘What! do you send word that you are not at home when you arc there !’ said Lottie, somewhat amazed, for she had al ways been taught to adhere strictly at all feim#s to the. truth. ‘Barely, yovf don’t de ceive people in that way, Cousin Mattie?’ PM I IEL R GA, SA T D III)AY, Al : Gif ST *)0. 1856. university of GEORGIA library | • Why Lor yes', child —what’s the harm? | Everybody does it there, or next to every ! body, Ali our circle do it. it is a very I good ww of getting rid of troublesome vis itors, lam sure. Lot Von don’t have com | puny here in the morning, 1 suppose.’ | ‘Yes, sometimes,’ said Lottie, while a’ | delicate blush stole t<> her cheek. ‘.Mr. i G reen often rides over here, and chats with | father about the crops, and brings me any I new book or magazine which he may I Hiaiuv. to have on hand. You aro-ftequaint-- jed with him I believe. He met with you | last winter in the city.’ ; ‘Green—Green, did you say I Lot me remember. 1 don’t recollect any gentle man by that name, who visited in our cir cle. Strange that I can’t recall his per son!’ \Ho is a Freemason, and went to the city on some business connected with -the Lodge,’ said Lottie. ‘He met with Uncle lame, and was invited by him to his house. He saw jv u there.’ The belle hiughud a silvery fashionable laugh. ‘Oh ! I remember now,’ she said. ‘Sis ter Ophelia and I had so much fun out of that fellow. His clothes were a thousand years behind the time, but papa would have him entertained in the most hospital hie manner, because be was a Mason. He even went so far as to maintain, that he was an intelligent, high-minded gentle man, although I agreed perfectly with sis ter Ophelia, who said’that he was Green by name, and Green by nature—a most verdant animal.’ Lottie’s cheek flushed deeper than ever at this remark, for the truth of the matter was, she had long before that learned to look on Harvey Green with a partial eye. He was indeed a noble fellow. Every thought, word, deed and action had, in his case, its root in healthy, sound, moral principle. He had read, thought auu pou dered much upon Life, its cares, duties, responsibilities and ends. He had learned to distinguish the false from the true—the real from the seeming—the glitter from the gold—the dross from the pure ore. — He was sincere and upright in his purpo ses. He was well fitted to be counsellor and friend —guide and protector. Lottie’s weaker nature bad learned to rely with implicit and unwavering confidence upon all ot his professions, opinions and tastes. They Had grown from childhood together, Lottie had often said, mentally, that she felt towards him as a brother; and Harry Green thought of Lottie Bennett, as we think of blessings, met with and enjoyed every day, such as the bright sunbeam— the refreshing breeze—the genial friend— blessings which we never stop to estimate and think about, until we discover their worth by their absence. Harvey Green was not Lottie Bennett’s lover. O, no! he had never dreamed of being anything but her friend, and the friend of her father. Lottie had never dreamed of either. She only knew that the house was very lonesome if he ceased visiting there, and she remembered bow long the days bad seemed while Harvey was away, the winter before, on that Lodge business in the city. She was glad when lie bad spoken oi the kind entertainment : which he had received in the house of iiei Uncle Lane, unci she had always thought or the beautiful belle, whom he had spo ken of as having met with there, as the must interesting, amiable and charming of creatures, because, forsooth, she had, as he confessed, quite captured hi: senses. — But now her eyes, were suddenly opened to anew truth. While the beautiful belle bad been smiling so complacently in hon est, unsuspecting Harvey Green’s face, she had been making fun of him behind bis back. The information metamorphos ed the belle into a monster in simple little Lottie Bennett’s eyes, and the 41 ax? shall see ” of her honest old father now sounded in her ears something like a prophecy.— Just then, there was a trampling upon the green turf by the gate, and looking up, Lottie saw Harvey, mounted upon his no ble horse, rapidly approaching the house. He was neatly, and for that section of the country, fashionably clad. He bad evi dently come to pay his respects to the belle. For the first time in her life, Lottie was sorry to see him. But the belle received him most graciously. Ho one, to have seen the air of welcome which she assum ed instantly, would have supposed that she had ever objected to, or jested seriously about Its dress and manners. Again Har vey bowed before the magical, power of beauty. The belle enchained him to her side by her blandishments. The country was not dull to her when he was a visitor at Uncle John’s. She began in reality to love what sue, nevertheless, continued through habit to ridicule in private to Lot tie. But the reign of duplicity is generally short. In a fortunate day tor him, and an unfortunate one for beautiful Martha Lane, Harvey Green chanced to overhear the belie while she was descanting upon his awkwardness to her cousin, when the Uvo were seated in a Summer house in the gar den. He heard Lottie’s warm defence of his person and character. He saw, unper ceived by her,’ the indignation which Hash ed irom her hazel eyes and the blood which mounted up until it crimsoned her temples. He saw the derisive sneer which eurle.a thy city girl’s Joeuutifnl lips, ana from that hofr he.-hated her. lie turned hastily a way—noiselessly rein minted his horse and roefe homewards, and never again while rhtfbeße remained u visitor at Unde ‘Jehu Befi nett’s, did his tall and noble person darken the door. The city hello wondered much over this sudden estrangement. It Ims been sail, that “blessings brighten as they take their flight.” This was true in her case. Never had the love of Harvey Green’s noble and hone and heart -eeiued to be of such inesti mable value Li the proud girl as now, when she saw plainly, that from some cause or other il was lost to her. She went back to'her city homo in a melancholy mood.— The brainless set of admirers upon whom site, had, in former days, been won't to smile, now seemed to her unworthy of a passing notice. She discarded every one of them, and in the solitude of her cham ber, nursed the remembrance of the only mas who bad succeeded in leaving an iu dellible impression upon her heart. Thus sped the time, in vain regrets, in false hopes and useless desires, until one day she chanced to pick up a public print, and while looking over the hymenial list she discovered the following: “ Maukied.— in Edenton, by the Rev. lienry Storrs, Harvey Green, Esq., to Miss Charlotte Bennett—all of Edenton. It was too much. She fainted under the announcement. There is now a solitary old woman occu pying a dismal looking house in a retired and gloomy street in her native city. She never goes into society. Her grizzled locks are put plainly back from her discontented brow. Her stooping form and wrinkled visage speak of the ravages of disappoint ment and sorrow, as well as those of years. Little children—those lovely beings, ‘fresh from God,’ who brighten this sin stained earth, with their simple, earnest,’ loving natures, avoid her as they would the pes tilence, and go, even at shadowy night-fail far out of their way, rather than pass her residence. People point, at the decrepit old creature and say, “That woman’ was once the belle of B . There was a time when she was much sought after and admired.” Tin’s information is followed by a stare of wonder from the young and gar. ainJ then the crowd sweep on. and oldoMut Lane is forgotten. Few know of the se cret disappointment and chagrin, which preyed like a worm upon her heart’s core, after the young Mason deserted her, while on her visit to the country. Tits Ruins of Nineveh. The steamship “Soho” has just arrived at London with the last consignment of Assy rian’antiquities from the ancient Nineveh. They consist of about fifty cases of the most artistic sculptures yet discovered in this earliest postdiluvian city, representing the Queen of Assyria feasting under the shadow of the vine, the King engaged in a lion chase, and after in the act of pouring forth a libation. There is also a splendid and al most unbroken hunting series, comprising not only lions, but wild asses caught in a noose, or lasso ; also a procession of the sportsmen bearing away: birds", hares, &c., with their dogs, nets, and other implements nt capture and pursuit. Rut still more in teresting than even tiies©’ treasures of anti quity are the slabs bearing the famous in scription ou the winged bull at the entrance ot the i'aiaco of Seneclierib. recording ins memorable expedition-against Hezekiain the Sovereign us J udah, ip which 385,000 of his warriors, “ unsmote by the sword,” in a sin gle night, “melted like snow in the glance ot the Lord,’’ an event so sublimely descri bed in the “Hebrew Melodies” of Bvron : “And tlicru lay the steed, with his nostrils all wide, .Hoi through it there roll’d not the breath of his pride: And the to; im of liis gasping lay white on tiie turf, And cold as the spray of the rock-beaten surf. And there lay the rider, distorted and pale, V\ ith tiic dew on his brow and the rust on his mail; And the tents were all rile ;t, the banners alone— The lances nnlifted, the trumpets unblown.” A Japanese Paradise. “After a march often miles along the pic turesque shore, we reached one of the love liest spots on the island. It was a village perched on a bold promontory, overgrown with the pine, banyan and sago palm, at the month of a charming valley, which opened up between the hills to the base of the lofty peak behind Barrow’s Bay. A stream of sweet water threaded the valley, which was covered with the freshest verdure, and over hung with beautiful groves of pine. It was a picture of pastoral loveliness such as is rarely found in any country. Nothing struck me more during the jourriev than the great variety of scenery which the island encloses in its narrow compass. We pass ed through four different districts which bore but the slightest resemblance of each other, either in feature or character. \\ r e had both the groves of the tropics and the Woods of the nor tin; the valleys of Germa ny, and the warm shores of the Mediterra nean. “The village was large, thriving, and neatly laid out and hedged in as an English Garden. The scrupulous neatness and reg ukirity of the Lew Chew villages was dou bly refreshing to one familiar with the squa lor and filth of China. The sight of the cting*wia, (public house,) which occupied the place oi honor at the top of the promon tory, completed our raptures. Its roof of j red tiles glittered in the sun; a row of feath ery sago palms threw their brilliant leaves over the wall of the enclosure; the whitest and softest of mats covered the floor; the garden blazed with a profusion of flowers ; | and stone basins, seated on pedestals, con itnin ed fresh water for our use. Its aspect ot comiort and repose was a balm to travel ers as weary as ourselves, and I directed 1 erry at once to raise the stars and stripes upon the roof. I hastened back to make a sxetch-of the beautiful valley before sunset, while Mr. Heine occupied himself with a view of the rung qua. A venerable old man. with a snowy beard reaching nearly to his knees, approached the bank where I sat, but upon noticing me, made a profound yet dignified reverence, and retired. The village was named Un nu. Wo had not yet reached the region of fowls, but the peo ple sent us two small fresh fish, with a pumpkin and some cucumbers. For our breakfast, there were sent two long eel-like fish, resembling the gar, a few young egg plants, and a basket of sweet potatoes.’ lieo. Dr. Hau:ks’ Narrative of the Japan Expedition. Niglit Scene in a Young Lady’s Bedcham ber. Last Thursday night, which will be re membered as one of the warmest of the sea son, a young lady at the “West. End” was excessively frightened at a little circum stance which transpired about the hour of midnight. The young lady,.whose beauty is only equalled by her modesty, and whose “eye’s dark charm” has caused more than one waistcoat to palpitate, had retired to her chamber, where, after laying aside the greater portion of her wearing apparel, she committed herself to the tender embrace of Morpheus, whose soothing influences were aided by the cooling breath of Zephyr, who came in at the open window and fanned her cheeks with his feathery wings. In a word, she was snoozing finely—or, to use the lan guage of a modern bard— “Sleep ou her velvet eyelids lightly pressed, And dreamy sighs upheaved her snowy breast, \Y bile stavbeams thro her window softly creeping, Stole to her couch and trembling there, stood peep ing.” It was, as we said, about midnight when the young lady was roused from her deli cious slumber by hearing a noise at the win dow. Half unclosing her eves, she was startled by the sight of a corpulent form, apparently struggling to gain admission to her-chamber through the open window. It struck her at once that the intruder had been caught by the rear of his unmentiona bles, by a nail or some other sharp instru ment, as he seemed to be struggling with a stem determination to Her first thought was to faint—her second, to give the feilow a push—her third, to jump out qi the window as soon as he jumped in—her fourth, to scream—which was immediately carried into effect. The whistle of the lo comotive, on the iron Mountain road, which gave its first snort on the 4th of July,-was but a whisper to the screams of the young girl. The whole house and hall the neigh borhood were awakened by the outerv.—- Tbe old folks, three female servants and two big brothers rushed to the rescue, and broomsticks, mop handles, and boot-jacks flashed in the gaslight, as the household en tered the chamber ol the frightened beauty. An examination of the figure in the window dispelled the fears ol ail, and changed the screams of the young lady into shouts of laughter. The imaginary* “fat man” was only her own darling hooped skirt , which she had hung un a hook near the window, and which the wind had inflated and set in motion, iiiere was no more sleeping-in the house that night. — St. Louis Herald. Temperance in New York. 10 what arc we coming- in limits .Empire State’ W e could not have believed, three mouthy since, that such a decision as that of the Court ot Appeals, could have produ ced so deathlike a shock on the nerves of Temperance men. We cannot see anv good occasion for this. True, our Prohibitory Law is no longer active— true, it has oc curred in a most disastrous time, for the coming elections are of such momentous po litical importance, that it will be difficult to bring the Temperance question to bear very heavily at the polls on that account —true, Rum is rampant and the Devil seems to be unloosed as if for his diabolical reign over the whole face of the earth, for a thousand years- -true, the love and zeal of’ many a Temperance man and woman waxes cool, and institutions to which we have been ac customed to look as the bulwarks against the filthy tide have been overwhelmed and have gone to decay, and live only in a plea sant memory—true, all this may be, and yet there is cause for hope and joy. it. is a sad hour for Temperance, and she calls aloud for the succor and sympathy of nil her sons. And wo be to such as are degenerate enough to desert her standard in this perilous hour. As the ancient peo ple of God were punished with a peculiar evil for their desertion of Israel in Israel’s day of adversity,so will the same just Aven ger surely find out the betrayer of the cause ot Temperance, and visit upon his head, sorer calamities than they have dreamed,of. Wo be to the father who forsakes the place oi assembling, where, when his own heart was right, he took so much, and holy satis faction ! Wo be to the household which suffers Temperance papers and tracts to be C TERMS'; SI.QO_IN ADVANCE. ) JAMES T. BLAIN, V VBINTKK. VOL. Xm-NtJMBEB 34. eithei cut off on account of their trifling ex shelt or in the garret, whither they are hur ried a* soon as they reach the house ! Wo, wo to that father and that household!—* How will the tender olive plants be preser ved without these defences and helps? Let not that father and household be surprised, when their darling boy shall come reeling home fyom some midnight debauch, to break their loving hearts. And when their love ly daughter shall throw all the wealth of her warm heart on some worthless “Young America,” who shall ‘ lead her to his gay nome, so soon, alas ! to be transformed to the miserable hovel of the drunkard. — N. Y. Organ. * -.>■ . A Catting Reply. iu h ranee smoking jg, perhaps, less a rage than it. is with us; but in France, the liberty ol smokers is greater, 1 think, than in Amer ica. Thus in the United States, people who smoke in omnibuses, cars, cabins of steam ooats, 01 other places ot the sort, are few and iar between. In France, on the con* 5 - S common to see gentlemen Jttdulgmg in a cigar on such occasions. An elegantly dressed and aristocratic look mg lady entered a first class railroad car, at tne 1 arts depot, a day or two ago. As she opened the door and took her place, she ob seived that the car was occupied by three or four gentlemen, one of whom, at the mo ment of her appearance, was in the act of lighting his cigar. Observing the lady, he made a significant grimace, and, with the characteristic word-politeness of a French man, said: “Would smoking incommode you, madame ?” , The lady turned toward him, and with an aii of quiet dignity replied: ‘\J do not know, sir; no gentleman has ever yet smoked in my presence !” He put out his cigar. The Dea‘d Child. 1 e w things appear so beautiful as a young child in its shroud. The little innocent face looks so sublimely simple and confiding amongst the old terrors of death. Crime less and fearless, that little mortal has pass ed alone under the shadow. There is death m its sublimes! and purest image; no hatred, no hypocrisy, no suspicion, no care for the morrow, ever darkened that little face; death has come lovingly upon it; there is nothing cruel or harsh in its victory. The yearnings of love, indeed, cannot be stifled; tor the prattle and smile—all the little world ot thoughts that were so delightful—are gone forever. A we, too, will overcast us in its presence, for the lonely voyager; for the child has gone, simple and trusting, into the presence of an allwise Father; and of such, we know, is the kingdom of Heaven. Stop that Boy. Stop that boy 1 A cigar is in his mouth, a swagger is in his walk, impudence in his tace, a care-for-nothingness in his manner. Judging from his demeanor he is older than ins father, wiser than his teacher, more hon ored than the mayor of the town, higher than the President. JStop him, he is going too fast, lie don’t know his speed. Stop him ere tobacco shatters his nerves; ere pride ruins his character: ere the loafer masters the man ; ere good ambition or manly strength give way to low pursuits and brutish aims. Stop all such boys! They are legion—the shame of their families—the disgrace of their towns—the sad and sol emn reproaches of themselves. — .... Wife and Money Lost, An unfortunate husband who resides in the Third District, and glories in the name of Michael McCarthy, has recently made bitter complaints to the police authorities ‘ concerning the loss of his money and his wife. His story is, that he had $2,000 saved up in his old trunk; that on Wednesday he left home to attend to his daily labors, and when he returned in the evening he missed his wife, and learned that she had run off with a Celestial from Hong Kong. This ho bore philosophically, but “when he turned his attention to his old chest and discovered that S2OO of his cherished funds had disap peared, his wrath knew no bounds. For getful then of the remaining SI,BOO, he rush ed out in search of the Celestial, the missing money and the missing wife, but found them not, and when he again returned to his dom icile, the remainder of his money had disap peared, and his heart was wholly desolate. But the end is not yet.— N. O. Picayune. Gone to Bed. An eminently holy man thus wrote on hearing the death of a child: ‘Sweet thing, and is he so quickly laid to sleep? Hap py he! Though we shall have no more the pleasure of his lisping and laughing, he shall have no more the pain of crying nor of being sick, nor of dying. Tell me dear sister, that she is now so much more akin to the next world; and this will he quick ly passed us all. John is but gone an hour or two to bed, as children used to do, and we are very soon to follow. And the more we put off the love of this present world and all things superfluous, beforehand, we shall have the less to do when we lie down.’ ffjc'A French clergyman observed in a recent sermon, “Women now-a-days forget in the astonishing amplitude of their dresses that the gates of Heaven are very narrow*”