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ntii ii 111 mu niiiifin. mi ii niHiiia in urn uni n iimn u jiucii. JOHN 11. SEALS, ? EDITOR & PEOPEIETOE. ( NEW SERIES, VOL. 11. TEMPER.*! CRUSADER, PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY, EXCEPT TWO, IK THE YEAR, BY JOHN H. SEALS. TERMS I SI,OO, in advance; or $2.00 at the end of the year. RATES OF ADVERTISING. 1 square (twelve lines or Icfs) first insertion,. .$1 00 Each continuance, - -—■ - - SO Professional or Business Cards, not exceeding six lines, per year, 5 00 Announcing Candidates for Office,... 3 00 STANDING ADVERTISEMENTS. I square, three months, 5 00 - 1 square, six months, 7 00 1 square, twelve months, 12 00 2 squares, “ “ o? nn 3 squares, “ “ H no 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. LEGAL 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, Notice for Leave to Sell, - 4 00 Citation for Letters of Administration, 2 75 Citation for Letters of Dismission from Adm’n. 5 00 Citation for Letters of Dismission from Guardi anship, 8 25 LEGAL REQUIREMENTS. Sales of Land and Negroes, 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- T noon, at the Court House in the County in which the property is situate. Notices of these sales must be given in a public gazette forty days previous to the day of sale. Notices for the sale of Personal Property must be given at least 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 months. Citations for Letters of Administration must be published thirty days —for Dismission from Admin istration, monthly, six months —for Dismission from Guardianship, forty days. Ttules for Foreclosure of Mortgage must be pub lished monthly for four months —for compelling titles from Executors or Administrators, where a bond has been given by the deceasod, the full space of three months. will always be continued accord ing to these, the legal requirements, unless otherwise ordered. DIRECTORY. .... KING & SONS,'"’ Factors & Commission Merchants* and For warding: Agents. SAVANNAH, GEORGIA. W. KING, SR. | MCL. KING. | W. KING, JR. Nov. 22, 1856. 46 WE SEABROOft LAWTON, ($200,000 Cash Advances on Produce.) UPLAND AND BEA ISLAND COTTON, FLOUR AND GRAIN FACTOR, FOR WARDING dt COMMISSION MERCHANT, No. 36, Fast Bay, Charleston, S. C* Feb. 19 8 D* H. SANDERS, A TTORNEY AT LA W, ALBANY, GEORGIA, Will practice in the counties of Dougherty, Sumter, Lee, Randolph, Calhoun, Early, Baker, Decatur and Worth. Jan. 1 ly 1 WHIT G. JOHNSON, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Augusta, Ga. WILL promptly attend to all business entrusted to his professional management in Richmond and the adjoining counties. Office on Mclntosh Street, three doors below Constitutionalist office. Reference —Thos. R. R. Cobb, Athens, Ga. June 14-ly JANIES JIROWN. A TTO RJTJE V A T LA W\ FANCY HILL, MURRY CO., GA. April 80th, 1867. WE GIBSON, ATTORNEY AT LAW, After fifteen years’ practice, has permanently loca ted in AUGUSTA, GA. Will attend the Courts in Richmond, Warren, Co lumbia, Burke, Jefferson and Lincoln counties. {tjjf’Office corner Campbell and Broad-streets. May 24, 1856. 20 ~ PHILLIP B. ROBINSON, A TTORNEY AT LAW , GREENESBORO’, GEORGIA. Will practice in the counties of Greene, Morgan, Putnam, Oglethorpe, Taliaferro, Hancock, Wilkes and Warren. July 5, 1856. ly 25 ROGER L. WHIGHAM, - “ A TTO REE Y AT LAW, Louisville, Jefferson coGa. WILL give prompt attention to any business en trusted to bis care, in the following counties: Jefferson, Burke, Richmond, Columbia, Warren, Washington, Emanuel, Montgomery, Tatnall and Scriven. April 26, 1856.*-tf ; LEONARD T. DOTAL, ATTORNEY AT LAW, McDonough, henry co., ga. Will practice Law in the following counties, to-wit: Henry, Spaulding, Butts, Newton, Fayette, Fulton, DeKalb, Pike and Monroe. Feb 2—4 ” 11. T. PERKINS, A TTORNEY AT LA JT, GREENE3BORO’, GEORGIA, WHI practice 1n the counties of Greene,-Morgan, Putnam, Oglethorpe, Taliaferro, Hancock, Wilkes and Warren. Feb. 12 ft 9 7 For P,e Crusader. M.A I DE. BY MARY BRYAN. In the bright pavilions of the East The Morning sits in state, Waiting the herald song of the Lark, Ere she opes her pearly gate; While in the valley—veiled in mist— Sleep the gray of dawn, Yet Maude is out in the dewy fields, Singing amid the corn. The joy, that thrills through her simple song Is melody sweet to me, And she seems, in that softly colored light, A picture fair to see. The rose: hue of the morning clouds, Her cheek more deep’y dyes ; And her hair is wreathed with fresh field flowers, Blue as her beautiful eyes. And her form, in its simple rustic garb, Has a sweet and artless grace, While the joy, that swells her young heart, breaks Like a sunbeam o’er her face, Illumining cheek, and lip, and brow, And bright’ning each golden curl, Till a vision of light and loveliness Seems the blue eyed Peasant girl. And well do I know the pure sweet source, Whence these heart suhbeams flow, For often she pauses in her song, And thrillingly and low, “ To-morrow! to-morrow !” says o’er and o’er With an air of timid pride, And the blushes soft, that come and go Betray her a destined bride. ♦ •■****** She has parted the nodding plumelike maize, All hung with the pendant dew, And now, through its vistas green and cool, She lightly glides from view— And the olden shadow comes and takes Its wonted place at my side, And I press my hand to my throbbing brow, And regardless all of pride. I feel that I’d gladly barter all, * Each gift, that I now possess, For a tithe of Maude’s sweet earnest hope And guileless trustingness. Aye, Maude, I would don thy garments coarse, Go forth with the winds of morn, Most cheerfully heap the fragrant hay And sew Poppys mid the corn. Bear bravely, poverty, toil, and want, As day after day glides on, Could it but the calm of peace restore, And the faith forever gone; But the shadow! the shadow ! ’tis ever here With its haunting voice of sorrow. Oh ! would I could tint with thy rainbow hopes My sad and dark “to-morrow.” Thomasville, Ga. The Only Gentleman. “Adhesive plaster, Miss Wilson ? Were you asking me for adhesive plaster ?” askecl Clara Stanhope, glancing carelessly at a young gill who was making loud lamentations over an almost imperceptible cut in one of her pretty white fin gers. “Yes ; have you any in your work-box, Miss Stanhope ?” “No, my work-box is not a medicine chest .; hut here is Lieutenant Grey—he would do very well. He possesses all the qualities of the best adhesive plaster ;it is almost impossible to get rid of him.” And the spoiled beauty ended her rude speech with a clear and ringing laugh. Miss Wilson looked am*z and, and the poorlieu tenant, after trying in va ; n to join in Miss Stan* hope’s merriment, walked away. “That is the seventh gentleman you have of fended within the last four weeks,” sai 1 Mrs. Lee. “But Mr. Grey is so dreadfully tiresome, Mrs. Lee !—he wore out my patience long ago. Since I came here, he lias done nothing but keep up a perpetual smiling and bowing at everything I said. Wherever I turned, I saw him, and no matter whom I spoke to, he answered. I could not en dure it a moment longer ; and besides, I confess it is a great pleasure to me to say a cutting thing to conceited people.” “You should remember, though, what Shetidan says, soroewheie, ‘Let your wit he as keen as your sword, hut as po ished, too.’ That latter epithet would hardly apply to all your severe remarks.” “People of a family like ours ” said Mrs Stan hope, coming to her daughters assistance, “are above the conventionalists that ordinary persons hedge themselvfs.about with. We are related to many noble famines; among others, to the Duke of Rutland : my mother was a Manners ; and on my husband’s, the Duke of Northumber land is a relative of ours ; and l have lately dis covered that Robert Bruce was an : ancestor of mine in a direct line.” “Then I suppose w.e musij, pay you infinite res pect,” said Mrs. Lee. “But still 1 think if Miss Stanhope would only consider the feelings of these gentlemen ” “Gentlemen !” said Mrs. Stanhope, with her usual impetuosity. “Do you call these persons about here gentlemen ? According to my under standing of that mach-perverted word, there is but one gentleman in the house.” “And who may he be ?” asked Mrs. Lee, who, being a widow? did not feel herself called upon to resent this sweeping denunciation. “I do not know his name,” replied Mrs. Stan hope ; “buthe is that tall, elegant-looking man who sils just opposite me at table.” ” “What, the one who comes in and gnos out without addressing a word to any ette, ” said Mr*. Lee—“who is *6 exquisitely particular in his dress, and in whatever be drigns to eat or drink -r-makes great parade about bis wine and all PENFIELD, GA., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, 1857* the little et caeteras, and gives tue waiters more trouble ill n any oilier ten persous ?” •‘I have not observed all that,” said Clara ; “but I must say he is my beau-ideal of a Ligh-brtd gentleman. 5 ’ “And I must say, my dear, that I think you will find out before luig that you have made a great mistake,’* said Mrs Lee, “Do you know anything about him V* inquired Clara. “Only that he gave his Dame as Manners,” re plied Mrs. Lee. “Manners ?” exclaimed Mrs. Stanhope ; “per haps he is a relation of the Duke of Rutland’s. I will ask him to day.” “But, mamma, you do not know him,” said Clara. “I will introduce myself to him, said Mrs. Stanhope. “People of a family like ours can take such liberties without being misinterpreted.” This conversation took place in the drawing room of a fashionable hotel at the sea side, where people prided therofdves on their exclusiveuess and fancied that they added greatly to their own importance by refusing to reeognise those who sat, each day, beside them, if they did not chance to be members of their own circle. Clara Stanhope was a remarkably fiine-looking girl, with a spirited, dashing, and even daring look and manner, always cool and unembarrassed even when she was saying the most astonishing things; and with a laugh, whose clear and silvery melody, somewhat loud though it was, ofteu be guiled those who were suffering from her mer ciless sarcasm into joining her merriment. Mrs. Stanhope, panoplied by her reliance on her “family,” graciously condescended to take the initiative in making the acquaintance of her vis a-vis at table. “Might she ask,” she said, with a how as stately as that of any Castilian dame, “if he were of the same family as the Duke of Rut land r With an equally stately how, and a calm indif ference of manner, that showed him to he a true born aristocrat, Mr, Manners replied in the affirm ative, and Mrs. Stanhope continued, with an air as though she were eonfering an immense favor, “Then, I must claim you as a relative, for we are members of that illustrious house.” Mr. Manners merely bowed ; the favor was re ceived, as unrequested gifts often are, as though the acceptance was somewhat of an infliction. But this indifference only heightened the admiration of Mrs. Stanhope and her daughter. If he had courted them they might have treated him with their usual haughtiness ; but keeping them as he did in the position they first assumed as appli cants for his notice, they showed him, underneath their customary arrogance, a constant deference and attention. “I am happy to have found relatives where I thought I had none,”said the gentleman, as he arose from the table w ith a 1 mguid air, as though he felt it incumbent on him to say something, but thought it quite a bore. “What a coxcomb V h said one gentleman to another. As days passed by, Mr. Manners relaxed some what from his cold abstraction of manner, aud condescended to converse. It was evident that Clara Stanhope felt more pleased by liis atten tions, few and slight as they were, than she cared to confess. The casual remarks he dropped influ enced her strangely. Her laugh, that had at once been the music of the house ,grew still, and hushed, and avhs replaced by a tranquil smile. The change began on the very day that Mr. Man ners had made the remark, that “no woman with a loud laugh c uld ever claim to be considered a lady.” The gentleman evidently was not aware that his words contained any personal allusion. Se veral other sayings of his bad effect on the unres trained manners of Clara Stanhope. She was fast becoming subdued and quiet, and even gen tle. But this transformation could not take place without being commented on, and the cause of it closely scrutinized. Thanks to her severe speech es, she had not a friend in the house, hut many watchful and criticising observers. “I believe that Miss S anhope is in love Avith that Mr. Manners,” said Mr. Grey. “Do you know who he is ?” asked one gentle man. j All answered in the negative, arid then com menced a general discus-ion and conjecturing. It was late in the eA'ening : the la lies had all re tired ; the gentlemen still lingered, wasting more than an hour in fruitless surmising*. The only fact that was clearly establ shed was that there was some mystery connected with Mr. Manners. When Ikdies gossip, there is a vague uiictr tainty in their utterances. There are inuendoes, hint*, wise looks, compressings of tire lips, and shakings of the head ; but all these amount to but little; the world needs something definite to rest on, and so it shuts its eyes resolutely against the cloud of smoke, and if the fire is w ell hidden takes no heed of it. But when the sterner por tion of the race put their Avise heads together, and they are not so slow to do it as they would wish us to believe, of it. From that evening’s discussion there sprang up in the minds of two or three of the gentlemen —all of them the victims ts Miss Stanhope’s beauty and her raillery—a determination to penetrate the veil with which Mr. Manners had enveloped h m eeif. An old lady also had expfeseed a wish to know “ what that gentleman did for a living ; for her part, she never felt easy about folks till she knew what their business was.” But the lofty scorn with whieh Mrs. Stanhope repelled the idea of its being necessary for a gentleman to do anything for a living, quite subdued the old lady, who said—“l only meant that I have al ways noticed that those who did not follow any business, but lived nobody knows how, were dis reputable, generally speaking.” ‘‘Mr. Manners is a gentlerqan,” said Mrs. Stan hope. “Oh j” said rite old lady ; aud Mrs Stan hope looked upon the matter, as settled, though i| would havebeen hind sos her to teH how she had made ft out. * The point, which the gentlemen were bent on discovering Was the same as that about which the old lady had expressed such curiosity. One of the investigators was a lawyer, a keen, shrewd man—one whom nature and practice had both combined to make a “detective” of the first order. In two-or three days Mr. Hilliard (for that was his name) said to Mr, Grey, “I have discovered one riling ; Mr. Manners has some regular occu pation. His very air betrays that as you meet him in the street ; and no gentleman of leisure would come in and go out as regularly as he does. “While I was reading the paper this morning,” said Mr. Hilliard to Mr. Grey, about a week af terwards, “I was struck by a remarkable coinci dence.” Mr. Grey opened his eyes wide ; for though he had, by no means, Mr. Hilliard’s capability of see ing through a millstone, even when it had no hole in it, he appreciated all the more highly his friend’s powers. “I observed,” contiuued Mr. H’iliard, “that Mr. Manners engagements —you know he is engaged three or four evenings in the week to the fashion able parties of the season, Mrs. Stanhope thinks;— well, his engagements all occur on the nights when the Ethiopian Band, give their concerts ; and also”—Mr. Grey was opening his eyes wider every minute—“and also at the time when Mr. Manners went on a litfle trip, the band must have gone and returned in the same train.” Here Mr. Giey shut his eyes—a leaction con sequent upon their having been so long strained to their utmost limits of expansion. “Grey, suppose we go to hear the Ethiopian Band to-night ?” suggested Mr. Hilliard. “They are said to be very tine singers in their way,” Mr. Grey consented, and they Avere soon seated in a corner of the concert-room, where they could *ee without themselves being seen. When the troop of serenaders appeared, they scrutinized them closely. Three of them were in height and figure very much like Mr. Manners, but so well disguised were they that it was impossible for even Mr. Hilliard to decide which one of the tlnee or whether any one, bore any resemblance to the gentleman in whom they were so much interested. Mr. Grey, after having fixed upon each member of the troop in succession as the individual in ques tion, at last gave up in despair. The first part of the concert was over. Amid outbursts of applause the singers turned to leave the stage for a feAv minutes. “Look, Grey ! look at that man with the tam bourine 1” said Mr. Hilliard, “There he is—the gentleman himself 1” Few people think of disguising their backs; perhaps it would not be so easy to do it ; and so Mr. Manners was discovered. The secret he had so carefully kept was his no longer. No one Avho has not tried it can tell how hard it is to keep a secret in this age of the world. If Mr. Manners was especially satisfied Avith a nything that belonged to himself, it was with his walk and bearing; erect, stiff, and somewhat pom pous. That betrayed him. “There goes the only gentleman Miss Stanhope has seen !” said Mr. Grey, and he smiled with malicious satisfaction. “She must Be6 him in his glory,” said Mr, Hil liard, But; Mrs. and Mis3 Stanhope rejected with scorn the idea of mingling with the crowd of un distinguished commoners, to listen to such low and base-born melodies. “I would not go, nor allow my daughter to at tend such a placel” said Mrs. Stanhope. “Not a fit place for ladies, so Mr. Manners says.” Fortune favored Mr. Hilliard’s purposes. The very evening after mak ng this assertion, Mrs. Montgomery Fanslmv called, saying, she had been persuaded into making up a party for the purpose of hearing the serenaders, and wished to know if Mrs. and Miss Stanhope Avould join them. It was a kind of amusement particularly agree able to the young lady, who enjoyed a regular frolic far more than any staid and proper recrea tion. She openly expressed a desire to accompa ny Mrs. Fanshaw ; her mother hesitated, glanced round the room; then remembered that Mr. Manners had left a little Avhile before, pleading an engagement for the evening. Mrs. Fanshaw was almost a stranger to her ; she was very anxious to turn their slight acquaintance into an intimacy —and therefore she ended by consenting. Os course, Mrs. Fanshaw, with her party, oc cupied tho most conspicuous places in the con cert-rooip. After the first half-hour had ne riy passed, during a short pause in the singing, Miss Stanhope heard herself addressed. Turning her head, she found that Mr. Hilliard and Mr. Grey were sitting behind lur. A few remarks passed—criticisms on the sin gers, the audience, and the crowd : and Mr. Hilliard said, “I Avisb, Miss Stanhope, you would observe the man with the tamborine. Notice him as he goes off the stage. He reminds me very much of Mr. Manners. “Mr. Manners ! would you compare him to an Ethiopian serenader ?” said Miss Stanhope, with her scornful smile. However, her attention once turned in that way, Found so much to interest and perplex, that she could notice nothing else. Wb en he turned from the audience, the conviction flashed upon her that the tambourine player was Mr. Manners, and no one else. One glance at Mr. Hilliard re vealed to him that the discovery was made, lie saw ft long whispering conversation between the mother and daughter. Mrs. Stanhope evidently refused to believe the story, and she said, at last’ “It is all your imagination, my dear.” But be fore the evening was over, she too was forced to acknowledge the truth of her daughter’s discov ery. She could hardly command herself suffi ciently to sit through the remainder of the con cert. Her very dress seemed to share her indig nation, for it shook and rustled incessantly. Wheu they met at breakfast tbe next morning,, it was no difficult matter for Mr. Manners to dis cover that he bad been recognised. He was created with cold disdain by both ladies. Silent contempt was Mrs Stanhope’s forte, and she im pressed the propriety of the same course of action on her daughter. But Clara Stanhope belonged to the class of demonstrative young ladies. Tire impulse to speak vva9 too strong to l o resisted ; so she at once remarked?. “I was delighted with the concert last evening,-Mr. Manners ; yjou nc’.ed your part most inimitably. You have evidently not mistaken your vocation.” “Thank you, Miss Stanhope,” he replied; “your appreciation of iny poor efforts give me great pleasure. But allow me to request you to say nothing to oar-cousin” (with a pro\ r oking em phasis on the “our”) •‘the Duke of Rutland, of my present employment. He night not think it a suitable one for a member of his family.” A saucy reply was trembling on Miss Stan hope’s tongue; hut obedient to a glance from her mother, she closed her rosy lips over it, and fin ished her meal in silence. “Manners, indeed !” exclaimed Mrs. Stanhope, when they were again in their room. “Clara, my dear, his name is Boggs !—the keen-eyed Mr. Hilliard found it out.” From the Register, Agriculture. Os all occupations in which man may engage himself, I think that of cultivating the soil has a decided preference. Indeed, it constitutes the source from which we derive our existence. It is the fountain bead from which all other professions receive their support. Stop tilling the soil, and y r ou will at once not only see that destroyed Avbich makes up the greatness of the land, hut you will see famine, spreading far and wide, her blighting influence. Os all callings or professions, none is more independent than that of the farmer. He can buy his own labor, supply himself with all that which is necessary to animal existence; he folloAvs his plow with a cheerfulness and joy unknoAvn to others; he toils from the rising of the syn until the going down thereof, and breathes a pure at mosphere, Avith no heaviness of heart, or dejected countenance, but continues his way as merrily as the songsters of the grove, that ring their sweet melodies around him. At night his farming im plements are placed aside, and he retires to the bosom of his family, where contentment reigns supreme; Avliere he gathers with his little group around his own hearthstone, forming a picture, the very imagination of which itself, giv 7 es pleas ure. When he retires to wear away the weariness of the hours of toil by that sweet restorer, sleep, it is not with the anxious cares, or the disturbed and uneasy mind of the professional man, hut Avith a clear conscience he allows himself to be taken into the sweet embraces of sleep, as it gently takes possession of him. Such is the farmers career that he is dependent for few or none of the necessaries of life. He has them all at his door, having been prepared by his OAvn hands. The lawyer is dependent on his cli ent for a living; the mechanic on his employer; the physician on his patient, and the merchant on the patronage of the pnblic, but the husbandman spreads abroad his seed at the proper time, and ere long a bountiful harvest smiles before him.— He fills his gamers with the fruit of the land, and through his exertions makes himself the great master-wheel which keeps all other avocations in motion. And again how beautiful to roam over the boundless fields of blooming clover, to look upon the green fields of corn, to see orchards of ripe fruit, templing one to partake, to pluck the sweet and beautiful floAvers as one passes along and linger to take of their odoriferous perfume. And when one is overcome by the heat of the noonday snn and worn down with labor, how pleasant to retire beimath the cool shade trees in front of the old farirWouse, Avith the clear blue sky and bright clouds, with their silver linings, gorgeously dis played to the view. J. W. T. Wavelier, Va., July 14th, 1850. Layer Eeer. —There is no more injurious liquor among our common drinks than lager beer. It dulls, blunts, and deadens the bodily energies, and stupifies gradually the faculties of the mind. There is nothing sound in the body of a habitual krink er of lager beer. We have lived where fifty thousand Germans, from the father to the babe, are full of lager beer every day of the year. We have seen the little ones of three and four years who had been nursed on lager beer, toddle into the bar room and receive their daily allowance from “fater,” aud then toddle hack. These men are, f>r the most part, fleshy. But there is noth ing sound or solid in them. It is pickled, soaked. It is a dead, rotten, shaky, bloat. An old lager beer guzzler lumbers along, a great mass of tor pid puff and sluggish brain. It is a notorious fact, that a wound made upon this torpid flesh rarely if ever heals. The slightest incision upon the hand or face that is thoroughly beer soaked, will fester and grow. We have seen butchers in the West vitiated in this way, whom a trivial and accidental cut upon the finger has laid up for weeks. Lager beer is slow but sure, and it kills practically long before death comes.— Worcester vEgis. —•—— Extraordinary Family: —A traveler through Wetzel county, Va., observed that in almost every precinct there lived three or four families by the name of Morris, and having some anxie'y to learn the extent of the family, made inquiry, and w;-s directed to the mother of the whole tribe for information, having been previously told that she still lived, though upward of 94 years of age. He interrogated the good old lady politely and gently and succeeded in ascertaining that she was the mother of twenty-five children, 21 sons and 4 daughters. She has one hundred and twenty-one grand-children, and one great-great-grand-child, all with the exception of five dead, two girls and three boys, now living in the one neighbprhood. One of her sons has 16 children, one 12 and an other 11. One of the girls is the mother of 12 children, and another is tbe mother of 13 ; all the rest of them produced between five and seven. — Oneuf the sons, who is now quite an old man, lives within seven miks of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, but never saw a railroad until a few days ago.— Richmond ( Va.) South. I TERMS: 1 $1 in advance; or, $2 at the end of the year; < oo ) JOHN H. SEAI.S Vi PROPRIETOR. TOL. XXIH.--NUHBEK 37. Beautify Your Home. Every man,should do his best to own a home. The first money which he can spare ought to be invested in a dwelling, where his family can live permanently, Viewed as a matter of economy, that is important, not only because he can ordi narily build cheaper than he can rent, but be cause of the expense caused by a frequent change of residence. A man who in early life builds a home for himself and family, will save some thou sands of dollars in the course of twenty years, be sides avoiding the inconvenience and trouble of removals. Apart from this, there is something agreeable to our better nature in having a home that we call our own. It is a form of property that is more than property. It speaks to the heart, enlists the sentiments and ennobles the possessor. The associations that spring up around it; as the birth place of children—as the scene of life’s ho liest emotion—as the sanctuary Avhere the spirit cherishes in purest thoughts, are sure as all value; and whenever their influence is exerted, the moral sensibilities are improved and exalted. The greater part of our happiness to-day is in creased by llie place where we were happy yester day, and that, sensibly, scenes and circumstances gather up a store of blessedness for the weary hours of future ! On this account, we should do all in our power to make home attractive. Not only should we cultivate such tempers as serve to render its intercourse amiable and affectionate, but we should strive to adorn it with those charms good sense and refinement so easily impart to it. We say easily, for there are persons who think that a home cannot be beautified without a con siderable outlay of money. Such people are in error. It costs a little to have a Deat flower gar den, and to surround your dwelling with those simple beauties which de.ight the eye far more than expensive objects, If you will let the sun shine and dew adorn your yard, they will do far more for you than any art st. Nature delights in beauty. She loves to brighten the landscape and make it agreeable to the eye. She hangs the ivy around the ruin, and over the stump ot a wither ed tree tAvines the graceful vine, A thousand arts she practices to animate the senses and please the mind? Follow her example, and do for yourself whijt she is always laboring to do for you. Beau ty is a dirine instrumentality. It is one of God’s chosen forms of power. We never see creative energy witout something beyond mere existence, and hence the whole universe is a teacher and in spirer of beauty. Every man was born to be an artist so far as the enjoyraen t and apppreciation ot beauty are concerned, and he robs himself of one of tne precious gifts of his being if he fails to fulfil this beneficent purpose of his creation. Pen Drop. Man—A bubble on the ocean’s rolling wave; Life—A gleam of light extinguished by the grave; Fame—A meteor dazzling with its distant glare; Wealth—A source of trouble and consuming care; Pleasure—A gleam of sunshine passing soon away; Love—A morning-stream whose memory gilds the day; Faith—An anchor dropped beyond the vail of death; Hope—A lone star beaming o’er the barren heath; Charity—A stream meandering from the fount os love; Bible—A guide to realms of endless joy above; Religion—A key which opens wide the gates of heaven; Death—A knife by which the ties of earth are riven; Earth—A desert through which pilgrims wend their way; Grave—A place of rest when ends life’s weary day; Resurrection—A sudden waking from a quiet sleep; Heaven—A land of joy, of light and love supreme. JCST William L. Marcy had no element* of ad ventitious fame. His whole life is a proof of the assertion. It was solid, concise, positive matter-of fact progression in the building up of its own pro portions—as step by step he ascended by action and by growth into the concrete reality he himself had fashioned, and he himself had finished. His progress was not rapid, hut it Avr.s certain. No reolian-toned genius gave inspiration to his elo quence, and no meloeric glow of brilliancy ever lent its attractions to his career. “Passion never hjew the gale” that started him on the sea of life; but elevating himself by the force of his own will he battled his way into manhood, full of the vigor of toil, and gained strength Avith trials that made experience useful to him. Shaping thoughts into acts, and moulding opportunities into dedicated privileges which his judgment forced his ambition to adopt, he stepped at the very morn of life upon the road to fame. Winning his way into notice, by a clear appreciation of the genius of labor, and by assuming to xlo that which the exigencies of the times required to be done, he made no pause for the dissipating allurements of youth, and was attracted by no follies that threatened to dim the star of promise that was before him. Earning the means Avhich procured him the advantages of a collegiate education, ho laid the foundation of his character in his avill, and began in the start to be, that which he came to be in the end. S. D. Dillage. She teas Caught.—A fashionable young lady in Syracuse was seen by a clerk in a store in the Franklin buildings, Thursday afternoon, to slip a couple of pairs of gloves in her pocket while the clerk’s back was turned, she forgetting or not knowing that lie could look into the mirror near by and see her movements. Then she took anoth er pair from the clerk, and handed him to pay f>r it. He gave her $2 change; said he believed that was all right for three pairs, and bowed the thunderstruck young lady out of tbe store, blush'’ ing to her eyes.