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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.”