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*'''’ ‘ ‘ *” : ’ ‘’ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘''l.'i"''•"'’ “‘”‘‘‘‘ “‘‘ ‘’ “^’
JOHN HENRY SEALS, )
ANU > ElliiOl'S.
L LINCOLN’ YEAZEY, S
NISW SERIES, VOL I.
TIIPIIiJRIIMIR,
I
PCBLTSriEI) \
KVI.UY smttllAY, EXCEPT TWO. IV THE YEAR,
ev JOHN It. SEALS. {
TEEMS :
sl,oo, in or $2,00 at the eml of ihe year.
KATES <>F APVEUTISI.VO.
I <-,Tj ; re (tndve lilies or \e<*) Rr.it insertion,..sl 00
l .ich continuance -* * o 0
t*r->f>s*K>nl or Business Usrds, not exceeding
•ii \ lims, jier year, - 5 00
Announcing Candidates for Office, 8 00
ai’ANIHNu A DYE!* VISEMKNTS.
1 e, three inor.tos, 5 00
1 square, six months, * 00
1 square, twelve months IS 00
-1 squares “ “ 18 00
:i rqur.re*; “ “ 21 00
1 squares, “ 14 .20 00
Advertisements not marked with the number
of insertions, will be continued until forbid, and
e*<# vged accordinglv.
JST’Merchants Druggists, and others, may con
trrs-d fir advertising !>y the year, on reasonable terms.
I.:■.(} A E A) >VERT f? RMKNTS.
Sale of I,unit or Negro, s, by Adm in i strators,
Executors, and Guardians, per square,— 5 00
Side of Personal Property, by Administrators,
Executors, and Guardians, per square,... 025
Notice, to Debtors and Creditors, 3 25
Notice for Leave to Sell, 4 00
Citation for Letters of Administration, 2 75
Citation far Letters of Dismission from Adm’n. 5 00
Citation for Letters of Dismission from Guardi-
LEGAL JtEQUIIiEMKNTS.
Saics of Laru and Negroes, by Administrators,
Executors, or Guardians, are required by law to be
held on the first Tuesday in the month, between tile
hours of ten in the forenoon and three in the after
noon, at the Court House in ihc County in which the
property is situate. Notices of these sales must be
given in a public gazette forty day* previous to the
day of sale.
Notices for the sale of Pergonal Property must be
given at least ten day previous to the day of sale.
Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an Estate must
be published forty day*.
Notice that application will be made to the Court
of Ordinary for leave to sell Land or Negroes, must
be published weekly for two month*.
Citations for Letters of Administration must be
published thirty days —for Dismission from Admin
istration, monthly, six mouths —for Dismission from
Guardianship, forty days.
Rules for Foreclosure of Mortgage must be pub
lished monthly for four mouths —for compelling titles
from Executors or 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 contr. vy, are considered as wishing to continue
their subscription.
2. L subscribers order the discontinuance of their
newspapt vs, the publisher may continue to send them
until all arrearages sre paid.
3. if subscribers neglect or refuse to take their
newspapers from the offices to which they are di
rected, the-.* are held responsible until they have set
tled the bills and ordered them discontinued.
4. If sub-eribers remove to other places without
in tormina* the publishers, and the newspapers are
sent to the ftuavr direction, they arc held responsi
ble.
5. The Courts have decided that refusing to take
newspapers from the office, or removing and leaving
them uncalled for, is primafoeie evidence of inten
tional baud.
6. The United -States Conns have also repeatedly
<] c 1 and, that al ■ vho neglects to perform
iving rea ice, as required by
the Post Office Deparlniet!', of :• neglect of a per
son to take from the office newspapers addressed to
him, renders the Postmaster liable to the mibiisher
for t!i { - 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 d--prtment, most bo addressed to
* J. T. BLAIN.
I* ll O H f JH C T i: X
Tllilt@f iSIil,
[‘-iI’OND A M]
TEMPERANCE BANNER.
\< -n'ATF.t) i.v a cuiisciel'itious desire to further i
. the ca use of Temperance, and experiencing
groat disadvantage in being too narrowly limited in
space, by the tna'lneas of out paper, for the publica
tion of Reform Arguments and Pi’Ssioitaiu Appeals,
we have determined to enlarge it to a more conve
nient and .acceptable size. And L •*•*•* conscious of
the fact that there are exi: ting in the i
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 ventur e also to make a change in that par
ticular. It will henceforth be called, “THE TEM
PERA NE’E CRUSADER.”
This old pioneer O’ the Temperance cause is des
tined vet to chronicle tor- triumph of its principles.
It has stood the test —passed through the “fiery fur
nace,” and, like the “I!<Y r - v children,” re-appeared
unscorehed. It has vive l the newspaper famine
which lias caused, and is still causing many excel
lent journals and pericdica’s to sink, like “bright ex
halations in the evenur to r ise no more, and it has
even h-.-rakle l the- “deatli dr-regies of many contem
poraries. laboring'for the s-une great end with itself.
It “still lives,” and “waxing bolder as it grows older,”
is now waging an eternal “Crusade” against the “In
ferna: Liquor Traffic,” - unding like the “High Priest”
o fth< Israelites, who stood between the people and
the plague thru threatened destruction.
W,j entreat the friends of the Temperance Cause
to give us th influence in extending the usefulness
of The paner. We intend presenting to the public
sheet worthy of all attention and a liberal patronage;
for while if is strictly a Temper.tore Journal we shall
endeavor k< ep its readers posted on all the current
events throughout the country.
AS-fiVee, is heretofore, sl, strictly in advance.
** ‘ JOHN U. .^EALS,
Editor and Proprietor.
Penflskl, Ga., Deo. 8, 1355.
? -V ■ , .
INtotA to fftiitptraittt, JJloraltfji, JiTlmrtiirt, <Btwrfii|fnttllip, |Jets, fe.
A Monster Unveiled.
“Ah! poor thing ! Ido feel for her.—- j
! Though she is a person i never saw, vet
hers sooins a ease of such oppression on
the one hami, ami such patient suffering
on the other, that one cannot int-- **
“Oh, I daresay you’ll see her in (lie
morning, for she often steals out then,
when the wretch, I suppose, is in bed.”
“But wlmr could have induced the girl
to tie herself to such a man?”
“Well. I don’t know; the old story, I
suppose—false appearances ; for iso girl in
her right senses could have married a man
with his habits, it she had known them be
forehand. There is sometimes a kind of
infatuation about, woman, I allow, which
seems to blind them as to the real charac
ter of the man they are in love with; but
in his case l don't think she could have
known how he conducted himself, or see
certainly would have paused in time. Oh,
the wretch, I have no patience with him.”
Thi* little dialogue took place in one of
those neat, bright, clean-windowed, gau*
| zy-curtained houses, which form so many
pretty districts within a walking distance
of the mighty heart of the great metropolis,
and between two ladie^the one the mis
tress of the said nice-looking dig cottage
villa, and the other her guest, a country
matron, just, arrived on a visit toiler town
friend ; and the object of the commisera
tion of both, was the occupant of a larger
and hansomer villa exactly opposite, but
apparently the abode of great wretched
ness.
The following morning Mrs. Baybrooke
and her guest, Mrs. Clayton, were in the
window of the parlor, which commanded a
full view of the latter dwelling of the un
happy Mrs. Williams, when the door qui
etly opened, and was quietly closed again
by the lady herself.
‘There she is, poor soul,’ said Mrs. Bay
brooke, •only look how carefully and noise
lessly she draws the gate after her. She
seems always afraid that the slightest
noise she makes in the street may wake
the fellow, who is now, l dare say, sleep
ing off the effects of last nights dissipation.’
Mrs. 1 ’layton, with all the genial warmth
of a truly womanly heart, looked over, and
followed with her eyes, as the street allow
ed, this quiet looking, broken-spirited wife,
investing her whole figure, from the neat
ly trimmed straw bonnet to the tips of the
bright little boots, with a most intense and
mysterious sympathy ; then fixing her anx
ious, interested gaze on the opposite house,
she said, ‘And how do they live? How do
people under such circumstances pass the
day? It is a thing 1 cannot comprehend ;
for Were Mr. Clayton to act in such away
I am sure I couldn’t endure it a week.’
‘lt does seem scarcely intelligible,’ an
swered Mrs. Baybrooke : ‘but I’il tell you
how they appear to do. She gets up and
has breakfast by herself, for without my
wish to pry, we can see straight, through
their house from front to back. About this
time she often comes out, I suppose, to
pay a visit or two in the neighborhood, or
perhaps call on her trades-people ; and you
will see her by and by return, looking up
ay sue approaches, at the bed-room win
dow, and if the blind be drawn up, she
rushes m thinking, 1 dare sav, to herself,
‘Bow angry be will be if he comes down
and finds that J am not there to give him
his breakfast! Sometimes he has ids break
fast at twelve—at one—at two; and I have
seen him .-itting down to it when she was
having her dinner!’
‘Oh, his dinner; J dare say that it is a
different sort of eating from hers—poor
woman? lie dines, I suppose at a Club,
or v, i'li Ilia boon companions, anywhere in
tact, but home.’ ”
‘At all hours. We hear him open the
little gate with his key—at three, four and
live in the morning. Indeed, our milk
mu; told Susan that he has often seen him
| sneaking in, pule, haggard, and worn out
with his horrid vigils, at the hour decent
people aiv. seated at breakfast.’
J wonder if she sits up for him T
‘Oh, no; we bee the light of ln.*r solita
ry cun-iie in her room always as we are go
ing to bed ; and you may be sure my heart
bleeds for her—poor solitary thing! 1
don t know, indeed, that 1. over was so hi.
terested about any stranger as I am about
this young creature.’
*l).-ar. dear ! it is terrible V sighed the
sympathizing Mrs. Clayton. 4 But does
:n one visit them ? Have thev friends do
you think ;
T don t think he can have many friends
the heartless follow ; there are many peo
ple, stylish people, too, in carriages, and
there he is, the wretch, often with his half
slept look, smiling, and handing the ladies
out, as it he .vas too most exemplary hus
band in the world.’
‘llaPshe children? 1 hope she has, as
they would console her in his long ab
sence.’
‘No. even that comfort is denied her—
tlie has no one to cheer her—her own
thoughts ‘fiust In- her companions at such
times. But p-.rhaps it is u blessing; for
what kind of a father could such a man
make? Oh, 1 should like to know her—
and yd 1 dread any acquaintance with her
i husband Baybrooke, you know, would’nt
know such n man,’
‘My dear Mary, you have made me quite
PENFIELD, GA, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 4 1856.
melancholy, us go out. You know 1
have much to see, and many people to call
: upon; and here we are losing the best part
of the day in something not much removed
i from scandal.’
The ladies, of course, -M mt, saw all the
‘lores of bonnets’ in Regent -tree?:; all the
‘sacrifices’ that were being voluntarily of
fered up in Oxford street; bought a great
many things ‘fur than halt the origin
al costmade calls ; laughed and chatted
away a pleasant cxeith g day for the coun
try lady, who, happily forgot, in this bus
tle, the drooping, ert; fallen bird, who was
fretting itself a wav in ita prettv came in
Road.
Th- next day, a lady, a friend of Mia.
Clayton, who had been out when she had
left her card the day before, eullo-l, and af
ter chatting for aotno time, turned to Mrs.
Baybrooke, and complimenting heron the
situation of her house, remarked. ‘! find,’
she saM, ‘you are a near neighbor to a par
ticular friend of mine, Mrs. Williams.’
‘Mrs. Williams!’ exclaimed both her
hearers with excitement, and curiosity,—
‘Mrs. Williams ! Oh, how very singular
that you should know her, poor, miserable
creature! O, do tell ns’
‘Poor—miserable ! What can you mean!
You mistake —my ! Mrs. Williams is the
happiest little woman in London !’
‘Oil, it cannot be the same,’ said Mrs.
Baybrooke. ‘I mean our opposite neigh
bor in Hawthorn villa; I thought it couldn’t
‘Hawthorn Villa I—the very house. You
surely cannot have seen her, or her “hus
band, who’—
‘Oil. W.;e dreadful, wrethched, gambling,
fellow !’ interrupted Mrs. Bay broke. ‘I
wouldn’t know such a man’
‘He!’ in turn interrupted Mrs. Ecck
shall 4 He u gambler IHo is the most ex
emplary man in London—a pattern of ev
ery domestic virtue; kind, amiable, and
passionately fund of his young wife!’
‘My dear Mrs. Eeeieshall, how can you
aav all this of a man wlmse conduct is the
common talk of the neighborhood ; who is
lost to every sense of shame, I should sup
pose ; who comes home to his desolate wife
at ail hours; whose only ostensible means
of living is gambling, or something equally
and isrepu tal > ie—\v iif
‘You have been most ngrievously mis
led,’ again interposed Mrs. Eeeieshall.—
‘Who can have so grossly slandered my
excellent friend, Williams ? He cannot
help his late hours, poor fellow. That may
safely be called his misfortune, but- not his
fault!’ And the good lady warmed as she
spoke, till she had to untie her bonnet and
fan her glowing bum with her handker
chief.
‘liis misfortune! murmed Mrs. Bay
brooke. ‘How can that be called a mis
iortune which a man can help any day he
pleases V
‘But he cannot help it, poor soul ! lie
would be too happy to spend his evenings
at home with hi- dear little wile, .but you
know his business begins when other peo
ple’s is over.’
‘Then, what in heaven’s name is bis otw
in ess ‘?
‘Why didn’t you know? He A rim edi
tor of a morning newspaper.”
k Striking Illustration.
Every individual in society is expected
to contribute something to its advancement
ami interest. We remember to have rend
years aao, of a company ot tradesmen who
had united themselves together in a mutu
al benefit society- and each one had to re
lute what he could contribute to its snp
port. First, the Blacksmith comes forward
and says:
‘Gentlemen, l wish to become a mem
ber of your association.’
‘Well, what can you do?*
‘Oh. I can iron v.nsr carriages, shoe your
horses, and make all kinds of implements.’
‘Very well, cornu in Mr. Blacksmith.’
The Mason applies for admission into the
society.
‘And what can you do, sir <
‘Oh, 1 can build yon barns and houses,
stables and bridges/
‘Very well, come in—we can’t do ‘v,th
out you.’
Along com - the shoemaker and says .
‘I y/ish to income a member oi y uir so
ciety.’
‘Well, what can you do ?’
‘1 can make bools and shoes t°r you
‘Come in Mr. Shoemaker,- —wo must have
you.’
So in turn applied all the different tiadoft
and professions, till lastly an individual
comes and wants to bee-omen member.
‘And wiiat ;uv you f
‘f am a Uumseiier.
•A Tiumseilor ! and what can you do l
‘I ,-un build ja Is, and prison#, ami poor
houses.’
‘And is that all C
‘No—I can ‘fill them—l c.m fill your
jails criminals, your orisons with con
victs, and your poor houses with paupeis.
‘And what else can you do L
‘I can bring the gray hairs of the aged
to the grave with sorrow, lean break ibe
heart of the wife, and blast lln prospects
ot the friends of talent, and your lan<l
with moie than the plagues of Egypt.’
‘ls that all you can do?’
‘Good heavens T erv*s the Ruui&eller, ‘is
not that enough V
Advertisement of an Honest Rumseller.
j Friends and neighbors! Having just open
; ed a commodious shop for the sale of “Li
• quid Fire,” I embrace this early opportuni
; ty of informing you that on Saturday I shall
commence the business of making drunk
ards, paupers, and beggars, for the sober,
industrious, and respectable, to support.
I shall deal in “familiar spirits,” which
shall excite men to riot, robbery, and blood
shed; and by so doing diminish the comforts,
augment the expenses, and endanger the
welfare of the community.
1 will undertake, at short notice, for a
small sum, and with great expedition, to
prepare inmates for the asylum, the poor
house, the prison, and the gallows.
I will furnish an article which shall in
crease the amount of fatal accidents, multi
ply tiie number of distressing diseases, and
render those harmless incurable.
I will furnish a drug which shall deprive
some of life, many of reason, most of prop
erty, all of peace; which shall cause fathers
to be fiends ; wives widows; children or
phans, and all mendicants.
I will cause the risinggeneration to grow
up in ignorance, and prove a burden and a
nuisance to the nation.
I will corrupt the ministers of religion,
obstruct the progress of the Gospel, defile
the purity of the church, and cause tempo
ral, spiritual and eternal death; and if there
be any so impertinent as to inquire why I
have the audacity to bring such accumula
ted misery upon a comparatively happy
land, my honest reply is, money .
The spirit trade is the most lucrative,
and some professing Christians give it their
cheerful countenance.
1 have license from the court, and if 1 do
not bring these evils upon vou, somebody
else will.
1 live in a land of liberty.
1 have purchased the right to demolish
the character, destroy the health, shorten
the 1 ives, and ruin the souls of those who
choose to honor me with their custom.
I know that the Bible says, “Thou shalt
not kill;” that it pronounces a wo upon him
that giveth strong drink to his neighbor; and
I also read in the Divine Record that no
drunkard shall enter the kingdom ofheaven,
and I cannot expect the drunkard maker to
share a better fate. Yei what can I do?
Musical Practice among Birds.
Many people imagine that birds sing by
instinct, and their songs (some to them with
out any labor or practice. But ornitholo
gists, who have made the habits of the fea
thered tribes a life-study, hold a different
theory, and tell ot king and laborious prac
tice in species and individuals to acquire fa
cility and compass of song. The following
information from a practised observer will
be new to many of our readers :
Birds all have their peculiar ways of sing
ing. Some have a monotonous song, as the
bay winged sparrow. The yellow-bird has
a continuous chatter without any particular
form of song. - The cat-bird is a mocker.
The golden-robin has a song of its own; but
each one may have a song of his own,
though those of the same locality are apt to
sing the same tune. The hermit-thrush has
a round of variations, perhaps the sw’eetest
singer of the feathered choir. But the song
sparrow has the most remarkable charac
teristics of song of any bird that sings.
Every male song-sparrow has seven in
dependent songs of its own, no two having
the same notes throughput, though some
times, as if by accident, they may hit upon
one or more of the same.
Six years ago this spring I first made the
discovery. A singer that laid taken up his
residence in my garden, attracted my at
tention by tlie sweet variations of its songs,
so 1 commenced taking observations on the
subject. I succeeded at last in remember
ing all his songs, which are at this day ns
fresh in my memory as any of our common
airs that lam so fond of whistling. On one
occasion I took note of the number of times
he sang each song, and the order of singing.
I copy from my journal six years back :
No. l,eung ‘27 times ; No. 2, 36 times ;
No. 3, 23 times; No. 4, 19 times; No. 5,
21 times; No. 6, 32 times; No. 7,18 times.
Perhaps next he would sing No. 2 ; then,
perhaps, No. 4, or 5, and so on.
Some males will sing each tune about fif
ty times, though seldom; some will only sing
them from five to ten times. But, as far as
1 have observed, each male has his seven
songs. 1 have applied the rule to as many
as a dozen different birds, and the result
has been the same. I would say that it re
quires a great degree of patience, and a
good ear to comeat the 1 ruth of the matter;
but any one may watch a male bird while
singing, and will find he will change his
tune in a lew minutes, and again in n few
minutes more.
The bird that I first mentioned came to
the same vicinity five springs in succession,
singing the same seven songs, always sing
ing within a circle of about twenty rods. —
On the fifth spring he came a month later
than usual; another sparrow had taken pos
session of his hunting grounds, so he estab
lished himself a little one side. I noticed
that he sang less frequently than of old, and
in a few days his song was hushed forever.
No doubt old age claimed him as a victim.
In other cases 1 have known a singer to re
turn to the same place two, three and four
i years; but frequently not more than oue. I
think there is not a more interesting or re
markable fact in natural history than the
UNIVERSITY OF GEORGIA LIBRARY
one I have related, and it is a fact you may
confidently believe. —New England Farm
er.
Slavery and Cotton,
At the late meeting of the British Associ
ation for the Advancement of Science, in
the section devoted to Economic Science
and Statistics. Mr. Danson read a paper on
the Connection between American Slavery
and the British Cotton Manufacture. The
paper consisted of a series of propositions,
of which the following is a short resume :
T irst,that cotton, from the conditions of cli
mate necessary to its culture, cannot be
grown in Europe; but that, with tiie single
and not unimportant exception of tlie patri
o s in the New England States of America,
it is, and must long continue to be, manu
factured almost exclusively in Europe; se
condly, that the present supply is chiefly
raised, and for the present must continue to
be raised, by slave labor; seeing that, while
for fifty years we have sought over the
vvhole earth for cotton, we have during that
time contiued to obtain from the slave States
of the American Union a continually in
creasing proportion of our entire supply ;
thirdly, that two-thirds in number at least of
the population of the United States have
been called into existence, and are now di
rectly or indirectly maintained for the sup
ply of cotton for exportation : fourthly, that
of the cotton thus exported three-fourths at
least are raised for and sent to this country
alone; and fifthly, that of the entire quanti
ty we import, four-fifths at least in value
are thus derived from the United States.—
Each of those propositions was supported
by tabular accounts extracted from the pub
lic records of this country and the United
States, and the conclusion was explained
thus: That hence, in the present state of the
commercial relations of the two countries,
the cotton planters of the United States are
interested to the extent of two-thirds at
least of their entire exportable produce in
the maintenance of the cotton manufacture
of tlie United Kingdom, and reciprocally
the cotton manufacturers of the United
Kingdom, and through them the entire pop
ulation of the United Kingdom, are inter
ested to the extent of more than four fifths
of the raw material of that manufacture in
the existing arrangements for Maintaining
the cotton culture of the llmted States.
Novel Benevolence,
At a beautiful villa, near Paris, was late
ly given a charming fete. Pretty women
by scares were present, and the loveliest
amongst the party was Madame TANARUS., always
eminently “the fashion.”
At the commencement of the ball, a
young gallant, the flower of the sporting
clubs, hastened to be the first to ask her to
dance.
“With pleasure, sir,” replied she, “it is
twenty francs.”
“Madame ?” replied the puzzled cavaliei.
“I said twenty francs 1”
“I beg your pardon, rnadame,” replied he.
smiling, “there is a misunderstanding. 1
had the honor to ask your hand for a waltz ”
“Ah ! you are right,” replied the lady
quickly, “there was a misunderstanding, i
thought you asked me for a quadrille, but
since it is a waltz, it will be forty francs.”
More puzzled than ever, the gentleman
waited an explanation, which she gave him
with a gracious smile.
“Do you not understand, sir, that 1 am
dancing for the benefit of the inundated l —-
It is one louis for a quadrille, two for a
waltz, and no reduction in the prices.”
At this rate, Madame T. had no lack of
partners, and bravely and charitably danced
tiil the close of the ball. Who but a French
woman would have dreamed of such a
source of revenue?
Advice to a Young Pkysioian.
Let me strongly forewarn you against
one frequent error. Young physicians of
ten dream that by extending the circie of
their acquaintances, they must afford them
selves the best chance of extending the cir
cle of their private patients. In following
out this chimerical view, much invaluable
time is frequently lost; and, what is worse,
habits of pleasure and indolence are often
with fatal effect, substituted for those habits
of study and exertion that are above all
price. No man will in any case of doubt
or danger intrust to your professional care
the guardianship of his own life, or of the
life of those who are near and dear to his
heart, merely because you happen to be on
terms of intimacy with him. The’ self-in
terest of human nature forbids it. To have
professional faith and confidence in you, he
must respect you in your calling as a physi-’
cian, and not merely in your character as a
social friend and companion. The qualities
for which he might esteem you in the latter
capacity are often the very reverse of those
which would induce him to confide in you
in tlie former. ‘I he accomplishments which
may render you acceptable in the drawing
room are not always those which would
make your visits longed for and valued in
the chamber of sickness and sorrow. Ire
peat, therefore, that if you dream of making
patients by making friends, you will utterly
delude yourselves, and damage your own
prospects. By your undivided devotion to
your profession, labor to create for your
selves a sound and just medical reputation,
and that will create lor you patients.
iSirnpson'B Physicians and Physic.
TERMS: ffl.OO IN ADVANCE.
JAMES T. BLAIN,
PBINTEB.
VOL. Xm-NUMBEB 39.
Bewaro of Jewelry,
Manx persons have suffered imprison
rneut. and even death on account of rings.
The great antiquarian, Wincheimnn, \vas
murdered by u scoundrel servant for a very
precious ring that he wore. Conrad, a Ne
apolitan prince, flying from Charles. King
of Naples, was discovered to a sailor bv his
ring, informed against, examined, and t here
being found no sufficient reason why he
should live, was put to death accordingly.
Richard Cceur do lion, having made a three
months’ truce with Saladin, hoped to get
sale home, but was betrayed to an enernv
by the jewel on his finger.” He had readi
ed Vienna, when, fearing to fall into the
hands of Leopold, the Austrian Archduke,
whom he had affronted, ne took a cook’s
place in a gentleman’s family, but not taking
the precaution to roast with his rings off. he
was recognized, arrested, and thrown into
pnsou. The last instance we shall cite of a
ling proving inimical to the happiness of its
possessor, is taken from a remarkable rela
tion of Phlegon, of Tralies, Hadrian's 1 eed
man, wno dealt in marvelous recitals, and
who gives the follow ng amongst others of
ms mirabilia: A young man of the name
ot Achates, traveling in Greece, became the
guest of Demostrates. One evening after
1 e! - iring to rest, he was surprised by a vi>ir.
f oin the fair Philinnoine (the deceased
daughter of his host.) who presented he-seif
in tue most bewitching guise before him,
and persuaded him to exchange p'edge
r ngs with her. This nocturnal visit was
repeated for three nights successively, the
young man having no idea the while that
his fan* inaniorita was a visitant from ano
ther world. On the third night, a maid,
discovering a lady in the guest-chamber,
recognized her deceased mistress, and ap
prized the pareuts of the late Philinnoine of
what had seen. Incredulous at first at
the young woman’s story, they at length
agreed to enter the chamber at the sVine
hour the night following, when, to their be
wilderment and joy, they saw their own
daughter before them; but this j >v was soon
turned into horror, for the maiden had no
sooner recognized her father and mother,
than escaping from the embrace of both, -i e
reproached them bitterly for thus com'ng
abruptly to destroy the happiness winch for
three more nights she had else enjoyed with
their guest, her leave of absence from the
shades extending to a whole week, and tell
a lifeless corpse on the ground at their feet.
On recovering from the shock, the first im
pulse of the parents hurried the n to the
tomb, whence the body had indeed depart
ed, and all that remained there was Achates’
pledge-ring; on seeing which the unhappy
youth, terror-stricken at having affianced
himself to a spectre, fell upon his sword and
died immediately.— Frazer's Magazine .
-
Washington's Last Moments.
Gov. Wise, of Virginia, delivered an ora
tion on the 4th, in which he thus described
the last moments of Washington :
“He died as lie lived, and what'a beauti
ful economy there was in his death ! Not a
faculty was impaired, not an error marred
the moral of his life. At sixty-six, not quite
three score years and ten, he was taken
away, whilst his example was perfect.—
Ho took cold, slighted the symptoms, say
ing Met it go as it came.’ in the morning
of the 14th of December, i 79D, iie felt se
vere illness; called in his overseer, Mr. Raw
lings, to bleed him. He was agitated, and
Washington said to him, ‘don’t be afraid.’
When about to tie up his arm. he said with
difficulty, •more.’ After all efforts had fail
ed he designated the paper he meant for his
will, then turned to Tobias Lear and said,
*1 find I am going; rny breath cannot con
tinue long. 1 believed from the first it
would be fatal. Do you arrange my ac
counts and settle my books, as you know
more about them than any one else, and iet
Mr. Rawlings finish recording mv other
letters which he has begun.’ Between five
and six o’clock he said to his physician, Dr.
Craik. T feel myself going; you had better
not take any more trouble about me, but let
me go oft'quietly; I cannot last long.’ Short
ly aftei, again he said, ‘Doctor I die hard ;
but 1 am not afraid to go; 1 believed from
my first attack I should not survive it ; my
breath cannot last long.’ About 10 o’clock
he made several attempts to speak to Mr.
Lear, and at last said, ‘I am just going.—
Have me decently buried, and do not let my
body be put into the vault in less than two
days alter lam dead.’ Lear says. T bowed
assent.’ lie looked at me again and said
•do you understand me V I replied, ‘yes sir.’
‘’Tis well,’ said he. And these were his
hist words, and ’tis well his last words were
* ’tis well.’ Just before he expired he felt
his own pulse; his hand fell from his wrist,
and George Washington was no more.”
Moral Arithmetic —The Christian Reg
ister says: ‘*lt is calculated that the clergy
cost the United States six millions of dollars
annually, the criminals nineteen, the law
yers thirty-five, tobacco forty, and rum one
hundred rn.llions. This is quite a curious
calculation!
n i—i >
DC/"A Western Editor mades this an
nouncement: ‘ If we have offended any man
in the short but brilliant course of our pub
-1 c career, let him send us anew hat and
say nothing about it.”