Newspaper Page Text
nut if in mn minim. us if hikum, iii nisi uke if iinm if jiiimi.
.1. li. SEALS. ) y
™ > Editors.
I, I, VEAZEV. )
NEW SERIES, VOL. 11,
TBPIRMCI (MIR.
PUBLISHED
EVERY THUaSDAY. EXCEPT TWO, Iff THE YEAR,
BY JOHN IT. SEAI,S.
Ts RMS :
SI,OO, ill advance; or $2,00 at the end of the year.
RATES OR ADVERTISING.
] square (twelve lines or !e>-s) first insertion,. .$1 00
Each continuance, 50
Professional or Business Cards, not exceeding
six lines, per year, 5 00
Announcing Candidates for Office, 3 00
S LANDING ADVERTISEMENTS.
I square, three months, - 5 00
1 square, six months, 7 GO
1 square, twelvemonths, ..12 00
2 squares, “ “ ...—lB 00
3 squares, “ “ 21 00
4- squares, “ “ 25 00
Advertisements not marked with the number
of insertions, will be continued until forbid, and
charged accordingly.
Druggists, and others, may con
tract for advertising by the year, on reasonable terms.
LEG A L ADVERTISEMENTS.
Sale of Land or Negroes, by Administrators,
Executors, and Guardians, per square,
Sale of Personal Property, by Administrators,
Executors, and Guardians, per square,... 325
Notice to Debtors and Creditors, 3 25
Notice for Leave to Sell, 4 00
Citation for Letters of Administration, 2 75
Citation for Letters of Dismission from Adui’n. 5 00
Citation for Letters of Dismission from Guardi
anship, 3 25
LEG A L REQL r IRKM ENTS.
Sales of Land and Negroes, by Administrators,
Executors, or Guardians, are required by law to be
held on the first Tuesday in the month, between the
hours of ten in the forenoon and three in the after
noon, at the Court House in the County in which the
property is situate. Notices of these sales must be
given in a public gazette forty day* previous to the
day of sale.
Notices for the sale of Personal Property must be
given at least ten days previous to the day of sale.
Notice to Debtors and Creditors of 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 two month*.
Citations for Letters of Administration must he
published thirty days —for Dismission from Admin
istration, monthly , six month* —for Dismission from
Guardianship, forty days.
Rules for Foreclosure of Mortgage must he pub
lished monthly for four months —-for compelling titles
from Executors or Administrators, where a bond has
been given by the deceased, the full space of three
months.
jpjT"PubUcatlons will always be continued accord
ing to these, the legal requirements, unless otherwise
ordered.
from tiie JDul.liu University Magazine.
Old Church Bells.
Ring out merrily,
Loudly, cheerily,
Blithe old bells from the steeple tower.
Hopefully, fearfully,
Joyfully, tearfully
Moveth the bride from her maiden bower.
Cloud there is none in the fair sunny sky;
Sunshine flings benisou down from on high; -
Children sing loud as the train moves along,
“Happy the bride that the sun shineth on.”
Knell out drea ilv,
Measured and wearily,
Sad old bell from the steeple grey.
Priests chanting lowly;
Solemnly, slowly,
Passeth the corse from the portal to-day.
Drops from the leaden cloud heavily fall
Drippingly over the plume and the pall;
Murmur old folks, as the train moves along,
“Happy the dead that the rain raineth on.”
Toll at the hour of prime,
Matin and vesper chime,
Loved old bells from the steeple high—
Rolling like holy waves,
Over the lowly graves,
Floating up, prayer-fraught, into the sky.
Solemn the lesson your lightest notes teach;
Stern is the preaching your iron tongues preach ;
Ringing in life form the bud to the bloom,
Ringing the dead to their rest in the tomb.
Peal out evermore—
Peal as ye pealed of yore,
Brave old bells, o each Sabbath day.-
In sunshine and gladness,
Through clouds and through sadness,
Bridal and burial have passed away.
Tell us life’s pleasures with death are still rife;
Tell us that Death ever leadeth to Life;
Life is our labor, and death is our rest,
If happy the Living, the Dead are the blest.
—
The First Disappointment,
Is not this beautiful? It is contributed to the
Home Journal, by Mrs. T. H. Benerrioe, of Galves
ton, Texas:
1 saw a youthful mother,
Once on a summer’s’ day,
Set down a smiling infant,
To watch its frolic play;
It gamboled on the llowers
That decked the carpet o’er,
And seemed, with childish wonder,
Each object to explore.
A something on the instant
Its glad career ai rests,
And earnestly it gazes where
A golden sunbeam rests;
While on the new-found glory
It fixed its wondering eyes,
And truthfully reached forth its hand,
To seize the glittering prize.
And now its tiny fingers clasp
The treasure rich and rare,
Which in its baby innocenee
It surely thought was there.
But ah 1 that hand uncloses,
And to its earnest gaze
Reveals no gem <d beauty— .
No bright imprisoned rays!
And then the first of many tears
Fell on the cherub sac
The first sad disappointment
In life’s uncertain race!
And thus ft has been, with us,all,
Who, its dark game have played—
We’ve sought to grasp the sunshine,
And only found the shade.
From the Cayuga OhU-f. ,
The Whist Party:
i
O It A MO T n F. K S r. X A M PI, E.
“Mrs. Koss, do you attend Mrs. Baker’s whist
party, this evening ?”
“This is the first intimation- I have had o( there
being such a party in contemplation ”
“Indeed ! I supposed, of course, |rou were invit
ed. It w’Tl doubtless be a brilliant affair, and is
made on Mrs. Green’s account. Will is invited,
and is in perfect ecstacies. Just out of college, he
feels like a bird escaped from its cage, and I really
think he needs some excitement of the kind, to
counteract the effects of his close application -to
study.”
“Mrs. Morris, allow me to say, that I feel flat
tered by Mrs. Baker’s seeming neglect, f trust
that she gave me credit for too much good sense,
to imagine that 1 would participate in any amuse
ment, whose tendencies seem to me so debasing.
Excuse my plain speaking—my deep feeling on
the,subject must be an apology for any seeming
u ant of politeness. 1 was once addicted to card
playing, and was passionately fond of if, as all are
who are once initiated into its mysteries, I had a
brother, of an ardent temperament, who also be
came fascinated with this so .called harmless amuse
ment. The winter was gliding away in the midst
of whist parties and socials, where card-playing
was considered quite indispensable; auu I was
wholly unconscious that we were floating on a rap
id current, that might carry us to a whirling vor
tex ; until, one evening, when engaged with a few
friends in our favorite amusement, my brother was
beaten, and imagined there had teeu something
unfair in tlie play. Angry words rose to his lips,
tire flashed from his eyes, and every lineament of
his fine face was distorted with passion. ‘ln a mo
ment 1 saw the danger that threatened, us. I did
not fear for myself, but- temptations might cross
that brother’s path, and in after years be might
look back upon a sister’s example :;S the first cause
of a curse of wrong doing and Consequent misery.
<)n our return home, 1 told him my feelings, and
we both resolved from that hour, never to indulge j
iu a gratification that, might lead to such fatal re
sults. Who knows but my example saved that
brother from a gambler’-* fate.- You surely will
not deny, Mrs. Morris that mothers and sisters
wield an untold influence for good or evil over the j
youth of our land.”
“Really, Mrs. lu>s, I never have thought any- j
tiling about it —but l am sure there can no harm
■reliit from our attending the party this evening,
and it would be such a dis ippoin'.ment to Will to
give it up 1 know it will be a brilliant affair, and
1 regret that your rigid notions prevent vour par- j
tieipating in its pleasures.”
The friends separated ; the one to array herself
for the coining party, while the other roamed
through the regions of the past, and anon peered
into the future, where she hopefully and trustfully
beheld woman a savior and a shield, instead of a
fascinating tempter.
K: * vr iV --.v * * St
Excitement had nearly reached its culminating’
point at Mrs. Baker’s whist party, but still Mrs.
Mon is and her son sat apart from the company, in
earnest conversation.
“This is ready unaccountable, Will, your sudden
aversion to playing whist, I thought you anticU
pated much pleasure this evening.”
“So I did, mother, but as you say, my feelings
haven undergone a sudden revulsion. I cannot
but look on card-playing as a very frivolous amuse
ment at best, and it seems to rue quite beneath the
dignity of men and women, to spend so much time
furqbling over those bits of pasteboard, and getting
so exeifpd about it, too,”
“Well, l am positively chagrined, and disap
pointed at vour conduct. You will create no sen
sation at all at this parly, mid I hoped to see you
i brilliant star. Come, do gratify me this onse.”
“What, dear mother, at the sacrifice of my feel
ings and of principles that are struggling to assert
themselves in my mind ?”
“O, fie ! I believe it is more wilfulness than
anyihing else; for whit harm can possibly result
rom your playing a game of whist—and it will be
such a gratification to me.”
“Well, then let us join players ; but believe
me, mother,” and there was a startling eartiest
uess in his voice ; “something whispers me, 1 shall
yet curse the folly of this hour.”
“You will rattier thank me for dispelling your
foolish fancies.”
Mrs. Morris and her son advanced toward the
group of player-*, whose every countenance betray
ed emotions which the game had excited. Young
Morris, with his quick perceptions, was soon ini
tiated into its mysteries, and his ardent tempera
ment carried him to a state of excitement lie would
have thought impossible, an hour previous.—
Wine flowed freely, and in it were drowned his
lofty, newborn principles. His wit sparkled —he
gave lull play to his fine imagination, and became
the admired of all admirers.
Ihe grey hours of the morning stole noiselessly
on, and still Mrs. Morris’ feverish cheek pressed
her pillow, but sleep came not. Visions of her
•gifted boy floated through her mind, ami with
fancy’s fingers, she painted for him a gorgeous fu
tore —a brilliant path among thornless flowers.—
Alas! fond mother, that thy dreams should not
be realized.
* * * * * * * *
“There! I have lost my last farthing ! Oh!
this coo! air is too puie for such a wretch asl!
Where shall I bide. myself? Where shall 1 go?
No money—no friends—l wonder if my mother
would be proud of me now ?” and there was in
tense bitterness in his tone.
“Cheer up, Morris, I will lend you money, find
you can try your luck again ; you wijl certainly
win next time.”
f have played nty last game. “But
this letter,” and he fiercely clutched afo'ded man
uscript; “this letter will make my mo her look
upon that brilliant whist party, when she urged
me to learn to play, it would be so genre<d, as the
plague-spot of her existence. Had Iw >n to-night,
I would spare her this blow ; but she cannot suf
fer more than I have.”
“You are a coward, Mowis,”
“Call me a coward, or a fool, if yoiuehocss, I
PENHELD, GA„- THURSDAY, MARCH 26, 1857.
have been both long enough. If to-morrow does
nor find me a better and a stronger rnan, I know
short cut to another world, where I am sure
there are no gambling-hefts, even if there is a lake,
of fire and brimstone !” . .
Hush, Will Morris. Mope is even row* point
ing you to a haven of peace, away in the dim fu
ture. You will cross stormy seas, and climb rug
ged mounts, but there will be rest for you at last.
**>s** * ‘ * *
“Draw aside the curtains, Annie; I want to
feel a ray of the warm sunlight, for I am chilled.
The sun is sinking to rest, bathed in a flood of
glory, but shadows thicken around me as I ap
proach the dark valley. Oh, that I could see my
darling boy, but 01 ee, before I die. It was a cru
el letter,” and she, pressed a soiled and worn pa
per to. her heart—“but, dear Will, I have forgiven
it all.”
was like a holy balm to the sufferer’* aching
heart.
“Come to my arms, iny son.”
“Oh ! my mother, can you forgive mv cruel
treatment to you? Alas! I fear I have well nigh
broken your heart.”
“From mv inmost soul, I do—and may God for
give us both. I have suffered much, but. <h!
what must have been your suffering in a land of
strangers —beset by temptations that you were
powerless to resist, without even the memory of a
ifiothers warning advice or pure example.”
“Weep not, my mother. May God spare you
and by his help, never again will I cause you a
pang of sorrow.”
The warm tears coursed down the -sufferer’s
cheek. They were tears of joy ; a joy born of
sorrow and despair. Angels’ fingers might trem
b!e on their harp strings, and their starry eyes grow
dim with tear-, as they beheld such a scene, a
wayward, penitent youth, by the bedside of lib
dying mother. ,
At length she grew c dru, and sink into a peace
ful slumber; and Will Morris, as be clasped the
hand of one, who was even then on the threshold
of Heaven, consecrated himself anew to a life of
purity’, and an earnest searching after truth. For
hours he bad sat there, lidding that mothers hand,
praying that she might be spared to bless and
cheer him, in his earnest workings for good. As
the rosy morning stole into the room, she opened
her eyes, now radiant with the light of anothe*
world, and exclaimed, “Lord, let now thy servant
depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy sal
vation !” ‘ R. M. R
Snake vs. Whisky.
The “Rockingham (N C.) Democrat” gives cur
rency to a story concerning a remarkable snake
existing in the country of Rockingham. The cir
cumstance is related in a letter to the paper above
indicated, written by Mr. O. B. Stone, whom the
“Democrat” says is a reliable man, and therefore,
the story must be believed.
Mr. Stone says, he is engaged in distilling, and
that his son Alfred is the chief man in attending
the distillery. Iri attending to his duties as dis
tiller this past fall, he began to be frequently visit
ed by an ugly customer in the shape of a snake,
lie was very much annoyed by his snake-hip.—
J elling his father of what lie had seen, Mr. Stone
accompanied him to the distillery, but he could
not gain a glimpse of the reptile. It would ap
pear to Alfred on different parts of the farm, hut
more frequently at the still house than any other
place. It being so remarkable that nobody could
see the snake except Alfred, it became a general
neighborhood gossip. Neighbors came in to see
vvliat they could see. They could see nothing like
as.ake Alfred would point them to the spot
where the extraordinaiy creature lay—he could
see it plain, palpable, gross as a mountain, but
the witnesses could not possibly see it. Public
wonder was all agog. Guns were brought. A
trusty piece was placed in Alfred’s hands and he
was bid shoot the monster. Taking deliberate
aim be pulled trigger, but lo ! the gun missed fire.
Other guns were tried with the same remarkable
result. Alfred was bid to point the gun away
from the snake and see if it would fire. He did
so—pulled trigger, when lo ! the gun would fire
as usual. These guns were never known to miss
fire or fall half cocked before. Public opinion was
staggered. Some hiuted that Alfred was playing
off a trick upon them in the shape of a most fabu
lous story. They tied Alfred and sprinkled ashes
over the floor of the still house in order to see if
the snake would leave a truck upon its next ap
pearing. They left Alfred tied so that he could
not possibly make a track himself. When they
returned, Alfred told i.hem where the snake came
in and where it went out. They examined the
dusted floor and lo! there “was the mark of the
snake as broad as a man’s hand !” Thirteen re
spectable men saw 7 the “mark.” There was great
consternation. They were convicted that Alfred
was not uttering falsehoods. He was advised “to
wear Clover iti bis hat,” and when it came, to
“ask it in'the name of the Lord what it wanted”
While thus invested with the charm dispelling
“clover,” he saw the rqrtile “peep in at the still
heuse, having a face, eves, mouth, tongue and all,
precisely like a man be perfectly knew, and all but
the head was precisely like a rattlesnake! He
asked it “in the name of the Lord what it want
od.” And its verbal reply was that “it w'antf.d
to destroy the sTii.ui!fo ! This “scared him
prodigiously /”
A New Doctrine Under the Blackwood
for January says that much hot, and not wise, dis
cussion has occupied the hours of philosophers in
trying to map out the distinct -couhnes of the ani
in a I and Vegetable kingdoms, when all the while
nature knows of no such lines. The aninntl does
not exist, nor does the vegetable; l>oth are abstrac
tions, general terms, such a< virtue, good ness, color,
used to designate certain groups of particulars, but
having oil y n mental existence. In the simpler
rgauisius there is Hj itfar|; which can distinguish
the animal from the vi-getaple 1 I his is, indeed;
a new doctrine under the sun, and, if any philoso
pher of these modern times disputes it, we refer
him to an article in the erudite for
further particulars. • * * *
From the Evening Dispatch.
The Chances for Making Money by Buy
ing Lottery Tickets.
After ( had failed and settled tip pretty much
.an my old business, I had yet several little confi
dential debts that I wished very much to pay. I
had SIOO in cash, every cent I had in the world,
and I determined to buy Lottery Tickets with it,
in the hope of drawing a prize, and then pay off
all I owed, and so be free once more. Before pur
chasing the tickets I called on an old friend to
whom I owed the largest amount, to consult him
as to the be6t mode of investing, I opened to him
all my hopes and intentions. He applauded my
motives, but remarked: “The Lottery appears to
be anew thing to you, but it is an old one to me.
At the time when Lotteries were rather new in
Georgia, nine others and wiry self entered into a
partnership which was to last ten years. We
each contributed $3,000, making tbe handsome
capital of $30,000, which was lo be used solely in
‘buying Lottery Tickets.’ Now, with all this mon
ey, all our smartness and great facilities, which
you know nothing of, for buying, how do you think
we stood at the end of the ten years ?”
I remarked that they must have coined money.
“Well,” said he, “of the original $30,000, we
received back $20,000, and lost the interest, then
at eight per cent, on the whole for teu years. —
The $30,000, if invested at simple interest for the
ten years, would have returned us $54,000, and
at compound interest $64,763. Thus you see, to
sum it up, we lost the compound interest on $30,-
000 for teu years, making $64,753
Os the original stock. 5,000
Making a total of losses 69,763
And had returned to us 25,000
Making a loss clear of 44,763
“This, sir,” he continued, “is my first and last
experience in lotteries, and you may act on it as
\ ou choose.”
Well, as I had determined lo invest 1 did so,
and it was the last I saw of my SIOO. Ij, was ray
first, and to this time, my last attempt to make
money by buying lottery tickets.
An Old Merchant.
Augusta, Georgia.
Curious Habits of Mackerel.
The habits of these fish are very peculiar; and
although they are taken in immense numbers for
three quarters of a century, their habits are not
well understood. They often move in immense
bodies, apparently filling the ocean for miles in ex
tent. They are found near the surface. Some
times they will take the hook with eagerness, at
other times a mackerel will bite for days, although
millions of them are visible in the water. When
they are in the mood of taking the bait, ten, twen
ty, and even thirty barrels are taken by a single
vessel in a few hours. They usually bite most
freely soon after sunrise in the morning, and to
wards sunset at evening. They all cease to bite
about the same time, as if they were actuated by a
common impulse. They are easily frightened, and
will then deeeiid into deep water. It has often
happened, that a fleet of vessels has been lying off
the Cape a mile or two from the shore, in the midst
of a shoal of mackerel, and taking them rapidly,
when the firing of a gun or the blast of a rock
would send every mackerel fathoms deep into the
water, as suddenly as though they had been con
verted into so many pigs of lead, and perhaps it
would Le some hours before they would reappear.
They are caught most abundantly near the shore,
and very rarely out of sight of land.
Influence of a Newspaper. — A school teacher
who has been engaged a long time in his profes
sion, and witnessed the influence of a newspaper,
on the minds of a family of children, writes to a
contemporary thus :—“I have found it to be the
“universal fact, without exception, that those schol
ars, of both sexes, and of all ages, who have had
access to newspapers at home, when compared with
those who have not are—l. Better readers, excel
ing in pronunciation, and consequently read more
understanding!)’. 2. They are better spellers, and
define words with ease and accuracy. 3. They
obtain a practical knowledge of geography in al
most half the time it requires others, as the news
paper has made them familiar with the location of
the most important places, nations, their govern
ments and doings, ou the globe. 4. They are bet
ter grammarians; for, having become so familiar
with every variety in the newspaper, from tbe com
monplace advertisement to the finished and classi
cal oration of the statesman, they more readily
comprehend the meaning of the text, and subse
quently analyze its construction more readily.”
“I'll Call Around and Pay." —What a world
of woe is contained in these few words to the poor
artizan and mechanic! “I’ll call around and pay,”
says the rich man, to avoid the trouble of going to
his desk to get the necessary funds, and the poor
mechanic is obliged to go borne to disappoint his
workmen and all who depend upon him for their
due. It is an easy matter to work; the only real
glory in this life is an independent idea of being
able to sustain yourself by the labor of your own
hand-*, and it may be easily imagined what crush
ing force there is in “I’ll call around and pay,” to
the laboring man, who depends upon that pay for
subsistence. If those who could pay would ouly
pay at once, it would place hundreds and thousands
in a condition to do likewise, and would prevent
much misery and distress.
Eight Kinds of Women. —The obstinate wo
man ge; to sea in a bandbox. The patient wo
man roasts an ox with a burning-glass. Tbe rre
rions woman would like to turu a rainbow over to
see what thero was on tlie other side. The vul
gar Woman is a spider attempting to spin silk.—
The cautious woman writes promises on a slate.
Tbe envious woman kills herselt in endeavoring
to lace tighter thanjier neighbors. The extmva
gant woman burns a wax candle in looking for a
lucifer match. The happy woman died in a deaf
and dumb< asylum years ago. jf *
UNIVERSITY OF GEORGIA LIBRARY
Drunkenness. /
If you wish. Lobe always thirsty, be a Diunkard;
for the uttener ami iiu‘re vou drink, tbe ot’iener
and more"thirsty you will T>*.
If you se k to prevent your friends raising you
in the world, be a Drunkard; for that will defeat
all their efforts.
If you would effectually counteract your own
attempts to do well, be a Drunkard; and you will
not be disappointed.
If you wish to repel the endeavors of the whole
human race to raise you in character, credit and
pro-perity, be a Drunkard; and you will most as
suredly triumph.
If you are determined to be poor, be a Drunk
ard; and you will soon be ragged and pennvless-
If you wish to starve your Dimly, be a Drunk
ard ; for that will consume the means of their sup
port.
If you would be imposed upon by knaves, be a
Drunkard ; for that will make tluir task easy.
If you wish to be robbed, be a Drunkard; which
will enable the thief to do it with more safety-.
If you wish to blunt your senses, be a Drunk
ard ; and you will soon be more stupid than an
ass.
If you would become a fool, boa Drunkard ;
arid you will soon lose your understanding.
If you wish to unfit join self for rational inter
course, lie a Drunkard; for that will render \ou
wholly unfit for it.
If you are resolved lo kill yourself, be a Drunk
ard ; that being a sure and quick mode of dee
truetiou.
If you would expose both your folly and secrets,
be a Drunkard ; aud they will run out as the li
quor runs in.
If you think you are too strong, be a Drunkard;
and you will soon be subdued by so powerful an
enemy.
If you would get rid of vour money without
knowing how, be'a Drunkard; and it will vanish
insensibly.
If you would Lave no resource when p-rst labor
but a workhouse, be a Drunkard ; and you will
be unable to provide any.
If you would be a pest to society, lie a Drunk
ard ; and you will be avoided as infectious.
If you are determined to expel all comfort from
your house, be a Drunkard ; and you will soon do
it effectually.
If you would be always under suspicion, be a
Drunkard ; for little as you think it, all agree that
those who steal from themselves and their families,
will rob others.
If you would be reduced to the necessity of shun
ning your creditors, be a Drunkard ; and you will
soon have reason to prefer the by-paths to the pub
lic streets.
If you would be a dead weight on the commu
nity, atid “cumber the ground,” be a Drunkard ;
for that will render you useless, helpless, bunheu
soine and expensive.
If you would be a nuisance, be a Drunkard;
for the approach to a drunkard is like that to a
dunghill.
If you would be hated by your family and friends,
be a Drunkard; and you will soon be more than
disagreeable.
If you do not wish to have your faults reformed,
continue to be a Drunkard ; and you will not care
for good advice.
If you would smash windows, break the jieace.
get your bones broken, tumble under carts and
horses, and be locked up in police stations, be a
Drunkard ; and it will be strange if you do not suc
ceed.
If you wisli all your prospects in life to bs cloud
ed, be a Drunkaid ; and they will soon be dark
enough.
If you would destroy vour laxly, be a Drunk
ard ; as drunkenness is the mother of disease.
Finally, if you are determined to be utterly des
troyed*, in estate, body and soul, be a Drunkard ;
and you will soon know that it is impossible to
adopt a more effectual means to accomplish your
end.
Lenddley Murray. —lt is not generally known
that this “Prince of English gramm trians” was an
American, and born within ihe present limits ot
Lebanon county, Pennsylvania. He was horn in
the year 1745 on the Swatara, in Etst Hanover
township, tlien Lancaster, now Lincoln county. —
His father was a miller, and followed that occupa
tion wheu Lindley was born, but afterwards devot
ed attention to mercantile pursuits, and emass
ed a considerable fortune b)’ trading to the West
Indies. Lindley was the oldest of twelve children,
and when about seven years of a<;e was sent to
Philadelphia, that he might have the benefit of a
better education than could he had at Swatara. —
He studied law in New York, and at the age of
twenty-two was called to the bar, where he gain
ed for himsel the reputation of bar, where he gain
ed for the reputation of an “honest lawyer.” His
Grammar of the English Language was composed
in England in 1704, and published in the spring
of 1795.
He Died at his Post. —Asad, but beautiful and
touching scene, was witnessed at the accident at
Du Page bridge. On tbe morning after the acci
dent the slow tolling of a bell wa9 heard. On look
ing to see whence it, came, it was discovered to
proceed from the engine, as it lay submerged in
the water. Tbe waves as they foamed and surged
over the sunken engine swayed tbe hell, which
alone with the smoke pipe appeared above water,
and caused it to give a slow tolling sound. When
tbe engine was raised from the water the engineer
was found in a standing posture, with his stiff, cold,
icy hand firmly grasping the throttle valve, as
though amid the thick darkness he had discov
ered the perilous condition of the train, and had
•pranig to avert the ruin. But it was too late—
the engine and train, with its precions freight of
life and property, went down, and during the dreary
night llie engine bell and the mad rushing of
waters rang out a solemn requiem for the dead!
It is probable that had not the freight train gone
down as it did* the train from Chicago,
due two hours later, and loaded with sleeping pas
sengers, would itself have taken the fatal plyage.
-~mhUet Democrat. dew-t r * * *■ J •* * 4
TERMS:
$1 in advancri or. <2 at the end of the year.
JAM EsT 7 f r RI,AIN,
FUINTER*
YOL. XXIII.-KUMBER 13.
When Young Men Drink no More.
“0! that will be joyful, joyful, joyful, „
O! that wiR be j- .vful, when we meet to part no
more.”
And while yet the rich, sweet music was filling
our ears, we turned away in contemplation oftheso
pleasant thoughts. Often have we heard the gen
tle sex quoted as types of the inhabitants of tbe
land of filiss; ne’er was our vision greeted with a
scene more angelic than when amid tbe jotous
scenes of that festive hour, the little band with
countenances glowing with the enthusiasm, in
spired by sentiments high and nohle, warbled those
words, to which evyry true heart responds in soul
felt Amen.
Before them was a gathered multitude Fath
ers, whose duty it was to shield, through ihe thor
ny paths of life, the weil being of their offspring,
Hll manhood, with its experience, should help to
,'fode them safe o’er the dangerous shoals and
heaving billows of life’s sea.
Mothers, in whose heart* still lingered a prayer
that Heaven would shield from temptation their
:.‘iieh loved sons; —sisters, whose affections a broth
er’s love twined strong and deep.
And what w>-re the feelings of that father who
had failed to exert his whole power to remove
every temptation from the pathway of that erring
son, on whom the influence of the Demon was
firmly fixed; — that Mother who had neglected to
pray, or Sister, who had failed to admonish and
warn, with words of affection and love, of the
dangers of the tempters of the subtle and public
powers !
But every voice was hushed, and our heart
drank in the sweet strains of (I have,almost said)
heavenly music.
Had we the power, litnv gladly would we have
all to whose lips was ever raised the deadly wine
cup, that they with us might have felt the sorrows
their persistant course producer!.
And the Rumseller, too, who deals to mankind
tins deadly poison—but we will not mention him.
He is not a man, lie has no heart; and a soul bar
tered for paltry gold is not easily touched. The
song closed ; a sigh of relief burst from many a
heart riveted to catch the slightest sound.
Yes, joy ful will be the time — then must the rum
seller seek an honorable living or starve —then will
tbe desolate home be made happy, and where tears
of auguish long have flowed, their bitterness wash
ed away.
Ponder ye who to your lips will raise tbe pois
onous drug which embitters the fountain of your
life, and renders mad tbe brain. Oh ! tell me :
will not that time be joyful “when young men drink
no more ?” Wilber Forest.
•*.>•♦
The Turn of Life.
Between the years of forty and sixty, a man
who has properly regulated himself may be con
sidered a* in the prime of life. His matured
strength of constitution renders him almost imper
vious to the attacks of disease, and experience has
given soundness to his judgment. His mind is
resolute, firm, and equal; ad his functions are in
the h ghest order; he assumes the mastery over
business; he builds up a competence on the founda
tion he has formed in early manhood, and passes
through a period of life attended by many grati
fications. Having trone a vear or two past sixty,
he ariives at a critical period in the road of exist
ence ; the river of deaih flows before him, and he
remains at a staud still. But athwart this riveris
a viaduct, called “The Turn of Life,” which, if
crossed in safety, leads to the valley of “old age,”
round which the river winds, and then flows be
yond without a boat or causeway to affect its pas
sage. The bridge is, however, constructed of frag
ile mateiials, and it depends upon low it is trod
den whether it bends or breaks. Gout, apoplexy,
and other bad characters are also in the vicinity to
waylay the fraveiier aud thrust him from the
pass; but let him girl up his loins aud provide
himself with a fitting staff, and he may trudge on
in safety with perfect composure. To quit meta
phor, “The Turn of Life” is a true either into a
prolonged walk, or into the grave. The system
and powers having reached their utmost expan
sion, now begin either to close like flowers, at sun
set, or break down at once. One injudicious
sthnuiant, a single fatal excitement, may force it
beyond the strength ; whilst a careful supply of
props* and the withdrawal of all that tends to force
a piant, will sustain it in beauty ;md in vigor un
til night has entirely set in.— The Science of Life
by a Physician.
Attend to Your Sight. —Sir D. Brewster, in
tbe North British Revfow, says that no opinion is
more common, and certainly none is more incor
rect, than that it is prudent to avoid the use of ar
tificial help to the eyes so long as they are not ab
solutely indispensable. The human eye is too del
icate a structure to bear continued strain without
injury; and the true rule is to commence the use
of glasses as soon as we can see better with them
than without them, and always employ such as
will render vision most comfortable and pleasant.
The spectacles habitually used for ordinary purpo
ses may not be adequate to certain occasional de
mands, such as reading.v ry fine print, examining
maps, To meet, these cases a hand-reading
glass, two and a half inches in diameter, to be usea
in conjunction with tbe spectacles and never with
out them, is strongly recommended. A similar
use of tlie reading-glass is rlso recommeuded to
short-sighted persons, in conjunction with the con
cave spectacles when exaraininp miaut& objects.
A Good Wife. — -Tn the eighty-fourth year of
his age, Dr. Calvin Chapin wrote of his wife:
“My domestic eej >yments have been perhaps,
as near perfection as the human condition per
mits. She made my Ivome the pleasantest spot on
earth to me. And now that she is gone, my
worldly loss is perfect.”
How many a poor fellow would bte saved from
suicide; trom the penitentiary,-and the gallons,
every year, had he been blessed with eueh a
wife!
“She made home the pleasantest spot on earth
to me.” What a grand that woman’s
love, ani piety, and common sense !