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SIGNED A.NNOGS
f Altoona and rtctottr tkw'DM
nvoiav of , ;
>XARIKS, KDTS. SMfliaf
-Mpnaaljr for thoHoltdija.
on hani a good atock of fUn
nupafacton. :
r«S, RAISINS, AC,
u» oftfce^jear.
\x. Molasses, Batter,
'm soB4.tjPhmz,
uu, corn '
in larjre or small qnastitfaa.
my atock .aid jon wtllftod
to town.
JACOB Wls*.
[IESTION tfSßCffl
•
eat article to
mat term, the ; -
direct, but if -
' ■
SHOES
lou of hU stock and work.
id nciuwortment ofßoot*,ShM
fho offer* M IKir prices. ;
inUon to custom work, »il o
KitowtU&dtkm. Noncbuttt
>V(tgiito> itort,
; ' JOHN H. RO9EBXS.
f INCffIE’S
7, MAIN STREET.
, BLANK BOOK&
UNGBEATVABim
iY ON HAHIH. .V.,-'.
LICE GAZETTE
.of Crime and .6didatili.li
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D the Great.trh^WW* 41
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3. W. MATHtaX hCR,
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jIcCBUM & BERN,
VOL- 7.
Choice f«fc|.
MY COUNTRY.
1 love my country—«»«ry breew
That .weep acme. her testae
Uer .xure .ki«B-h.r mountain height.-
And all her fair and glorlomnighta.
X love my country! Let the Greek
In rapture, of hi. .un clime .peak:
Of .now-clad hill may boaet the Swim;
No land can bo compared to this.
I lore my country!—yet ’tie not
Because ’tie nature’, fcrorite .pot;
But ’Us because it i. the land
Where freeman may in §afety »tand
X love my country!—m*y It be
The home of all noble free»
Bat never Using beneo of those
Who are at home their country’s foes.
I lore my country!—every grave,
Moss grown; of fier immortal brave,
By weeping Freedom laid to rest.
Whose memories are forever bleat.
I loro my country I—all the host
■Of noble mcu whom she may boast;
Her every tried and faithful sob.
Prom Jackson up to Washington.
I luve my country 1. to my heart;
While yet the crimson blood doth start,
' In her defence its tide shall flow.
When Freedom points to me her foe.
Ob, Thou, who didit our F»thirs guide,
Still o’er our lovely land preaide;
Direct their «on», and may they lore
Their country, neat to that above.
ffieri
THE LEFT-HANDED THIEF.
“ How many young men have been in
jured and pyhaps ruined, by false suspi
cion,” remarked my mercantile friend, as
we were conversing upon the subject of
the “ panic,” a few evenings since. “Sus
picion is like the assassin in the dark. It
stabs its victim, and he knows not whence
the Wow comes. Or it may be more like
the keen frost which seizes upon the ears,
the cheeks or the nose, freezing the flesh
and driving back the life-blood, and yet
the poor man totally ignorant of his situa
tion till he comes in contact with the heat.
and logins to feel stinging pain. But I be-
lieve I never told you of the only time
that, suspicion of evil was ever fastenened
upon me.' It has nothing particular to do
with the subject under consideration,
though it served to show how merchants
sometimes lost money.
When a mere youth, I was placed in
the store of Jonas Wharton, who was a
merchant doing a good business. I was!
frugal, industrious and faithful, -and at
the,age of twenty-one I was advanced to
the post of book-keeper, with a good sal
ary. I had charge of the books and the
safe, and all the money left over after
banking hours was also in my bare.
I tried to do my duty faithfully and I
think I succeeded. Mr. Wharton was a v
close, methodical man, with $ quick eye
aud ready understanding of business, and
its X fancied he was satisfied, I. felt much
pleased.
'l,had been a book-keeper a year, when I
thought my employer’s manner toward me
began to change. He seemed to treat me
more coolly, and finally I was sure he
watched my movements with distrustful
glances. I became nervous and uneasy,
for i feared I had offended him. But!the
thing came to head at length. One even
ing when I was alone in the store, engaged
in making up my cash account, Mr. Whar
ton! came to me with a troubled look, and
spoke. His voice was tremulous, and I
could see that he was deeply affected.
“George,” said he, “ I am sorry for the
conviction that has been forced upon me.
I fear you have not been treating me as
you should.
I managed in spite of my astonishment
to ask what he meant.
“I fear you are not honest!” was his
reply.
Had a thunderbolt fallen upon me, 1
colild not have been more startled. Not
honest! And there I had been for years
making it my chief aim and study how to
serve him most faithfully! I do not re
member what I said at first. I only know
that tears came into my eyes—that my
lips trembled—and that my utterance was
almost checked.. How long had he held
such suspicions? 1 asked him, and he
told me- for more than two months.
“ Good God! You have suspected me
thus arid still left me in the dark! Alter
serving you go long—after giving to your
interests ah my energies—and striving for
mitli and honor that I might win your love
and esteem—-to suspect me in secret!—to
look upon me as a thief," and yet not tel
me!—-I would not have believed it!”
“ ket us talk the matter over calmly,”
said the merchant, his own kind tone com
mg back. He was touched by my agony, 1
and I could se% that he was wavering.
I felt at first like telling him that he
should have done this before f but as ke
«*med ready to reason now, I found fio
fault.
“You have spent considerable money of
late,” he began. J !
“How?” I asked.
“Have you not built a.house?”
’Yes, sir—and paid for it too—and
have thus given my mother a comfortable
home.
Mr. Wharton was staggered for a mo
ment by my frank and feeling reply; but
pretty soon he asked—
“ What did the house cost you
“Just fifteen hundred dollars. My
mother owned the landr And I supposed
you would know where l igot the money
You, sir learned me how to save it. I
have been with you six years. The first
year you paid me fifty dollars, and I laid
up . twenty-five of it. The second and third
years you gave me a hundred, and of that
I laid up sixty dollars a year. The fourth
year you' made me a clerk and gave me
five hundred. My mother was able to feed
me, and as pur little cot answered for the
time, I got along that year upon an expense
of seventy-five dollars. ■; The next year
yon paid me six hundred oh condition that
I would keep your books. I saved five
hundred of that. This last year you paid
the one thousand dollars, and I have spent
only the interest of what I had previously
invested, so that the thousand was not
touched. Of course my mother has worked,
but she wished to do it. I have paid fif
teen hundred dollars cash for my house,
and have over five hundred in the Savings
bank. This is a plain statement of af
fairs.”
My employer ■was more puzzled than
before.
“Now,” said, I, “I have given you an
honest statement, and will you be equally
frank and tell me what has happened to
excite this suspicion ?”
“ I will,” he replied, taking a seat near
me. ! “ Within the last year I must have
lost more than two thousand dollars!
It must have been taken from the store.
I know this, for I know i the amount of
■goods which has bee# sold, and I know'
how much cash I have received. I began
to be watchful "four months ago. Two
months ago a man paid me in the after
nbon, five hundred dollars. I put it in
the draw'er, and on the next morning, be
fore you came, I looked at your cash ac
count and found only two hundred of that
set down. From that lime I have been
very watchful, and have detected a dozen
similar cases. I have noticed every dol
lar that came in after the bank account
was made up; and have also taken note of
the amount entered upon the book; and
during that, time there has been a leaking
of over seven' hundred dollars?—Now
who has access to that drawer and to the
safe?”
1 was astonished. I could only assure
my employer that 1 knew nothing of it;
and I saw that he wanted to believe me.
I asked him if he had spoken of this to
any one else. Not a living soul but me,
be replied. I pondered a few moments, I
and then replied:
“ Mr. Wharton, could I be made to be
lieve that even ignorantly I had wronged
'you to the value of a, dollar, I should not
feel the perfect consciousness L of honor I
now feel. There must be a thief some
where. Some of the clerks may find ac
cess to the money! But are you willing
to let the matter rest for a few days? I
will strain every nerve to detect the evil
doer.” / v i
He finally consented to let me try my
hand at detecting the thief. He: promised
not to lisp a syllable upon the subject to
any one else, and also to leave the matter
wholly in my hands for a week. ■ He gave
me a warm grasp when we separated, and
said that he hoped I would succeed.
On the follomng morning I entered the
store with all my energies of mind centered
upon the work before me. There were
four clerks or salesmen, and one boy,, be
sides myself, in constant attendance, and
all money received had to pass through
my hands. Sometimes I made up my cash
account at night,: and sometimes not till
the next morning. In the latter case I
generally put the money drawer into the
safe, and locked it up. The key to the
safe was kept in a smaller drawer to which
there were two keys, one of which I kept,
while Mr. Wharton kept the other. The
only other person who ever helped us in
the store, was Henry Wharton, our em
ployer’s only son, a youth twenty years of
age. He was preparing for college, under
g, private tutor, but found time to help us
when business was driving. He was a
kind hearted, generous fellow, find a strong
mutual attachment had grown up between
us. At first I thought of getting him to
assist me in finding the thief; but as Whar
ton had promised to speak to no one else
upon the\ subject, I concluded to keep si
lent also.
That night I counted the money, but
made no entry of the account. There were
three hundred and forty odd dollars. I put
it into a new calf-skin pocket-book —placed
that in the money drawer —and locked the
whole up in a safe. Oh the followin morn
ing I found fifty dollars! Tcounted the
money over carefully; and was not mista
ken.. I began to fed unpleasantly. My
suspicions took a very unwelcome turn, j
“During that day I pondered upon the
subject, and finally liit upon the following
experiment: When I had locked up the
safe for the night, I spread upon the knob
of the door, and upon the money drawer,
some pale red lead, .being careful not. to
ALTOONA, PA., THUKSDAY, MAY 1, 1862.
get enough on to be easily noticed.; I had
left the cash account open to be closed up
in the moring. When I next opened the
safe, all was as I had left it. The next
night I fixed the knob in the same man
ner, and on the following morning I found
forty dollars gone! \ Upon the pocket-book
were finger mirks of red lead; and when 1
came to open my cash book I found the
same kind of marks there. So I had
learned one thing, the thief knew enough
to see whether *my account had been
made of the money before he took it!—
I felt more unpleasantly than before, for
my unwelcome suspicions were being con
firmed. I had gained new light. There
was a peculiarity 1 in the red finger marks
which told me a sad story. Stiff I wished
to try fnrther.
For two nights after this the safe re
mained undisturbed, but on the third
night I missed seventy-five dollars, and I
had now set my trap with more care. The
red pigment was not only used, but I had
put a private mark upon every bill in the
drawer. The pocket-book and the cash
book were fingered as before, and the
marks were very clear and distinct.
When the week was up, Mr. Wharton
came and asked me what I had found.
“ Ah,” he said, as he noticed the sorrow
ful expression upon my countenance, “ you
have failed to discover anything.”
“Alas! I wish I could say So,” I re
plied. “ I have discovered too much! In
the first place, the money has been taken
from the safe, and the key left in its prop
er drawer, and locked up as usual. Also
the cash book has been examined each
time to see if any entry had been made of
the money. There has been one hundred
and seventy-five dollars taken in all.”
“But how do you know the cash book
has been examined?” Wharton asked.
“I will show you,” I said producing
both the cash and pocket books. “You
see those red marks. I fixed a red pig
ment upon the door knob of the safe, and
also upon the edges of the money drawer.
You can see those finger marks?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
“And now,” I continued, “just exam
ine them carefully; See how the leaves
of the cash book were turned over, and
also see how the; strip of the pocket book
was tacked into its place. Do you see
anything peculiar about it?”
“Only that tile finger marks arQ very
plain.”
“ But can you not distinguish the thumb
marks from those made by the fingers?”
“Yes—l can.”
“Then tell me this,” I said “which
hand did the thief use most dexterously in
the work?”
Wharton gazed upon the marks and fi
nally gasped—“ The left!”
“So he did,” I returned. “ And all of
the marks have been made the same, —
The thief is a left-handed one; and he is
with the store, and with our
books, and can gain access here. But I
have yet another mark. ■ The last bills
that were taken were all marked with a
small red cross upon the numerical figure
in the right han,d and upper comer. You
can follow those up, for I have neither
had the courage nor the heart to under
take such a thing.”
The merchant sank as pale as death.
“ Henry is the only left handed person
upon the premises,” he groaned, gazing at
me as if he wished me to deny his state
ment. But T could not. I knew that his
own son was the guilty party.
“ Ask me no more," I said, with tears
in my eyes—-for the father’s agony deeply
moved me. “ The secret is locked up in |
my own breast ; and neither to you nor to
any living being, will I ever call the name
of the one I suspect.”
The stricken man grasped my hand, and
with sobs and tears he begged my pardon
for the wrong he had done me, and blessed
me for the assurance 1 had given him.
On the following morning he brought
me fifty dollars, in eight different bills, all
marked with the red cross.
“ I know all now,” he whispered in bro
ken accents. “Be kind to me and let this
not go but to the world.”
I kept my promise, and lived to see the
old man smile again; for when Henry saw
the deey agony of his father, his heart was
touched, and be not only acknowledged all
his wild sins, and humbly begged for par
don, but he became a good and true man,
—an honor and an ornament to society.
The Great Battles of Modern
Times.—From a comparison of the great
battle of Pittsburg, which was fought on
Sunday and Monday, the 6th and 7th of
April instant, it mil be seen that with the
exception of Jena, Friedland, Wagram, and
Waterloo* tlm struggle is the greatest in
the list, looking to the numbers engaged.
At Wagram, the French lost 23,000 and
the Austrians 38,000; and at Waterloo
the losses of the French was 33,000 while
those of the Allies amounted to 29,000. —
The entire loss at Wagram was 61,000,
and at Waterloo 62,500. Next to these
ranks the battle of Jena, 47,100; Eylar,
between the French and Russians, 43,000;
and Austferlitz, 42,000. The loss on both
sides at Pittsburg was probably between
10,000, #g»d 12,000,
[independent in everything.]
THE FALL OF FORT PULASKI.
The N. Y. F(gt has been furnished with
an account of the bombardment and cap
ture of Fort Pulaski, which embraces
many interesting particulars in addition
to those already given. The preparations
for the bombardment were in progress on
Tybee and Goat Islands fir more than
three months before the attack began.- —
Heavy canned were shipped from New
York for the reduction of the fort, and
among them were several formidable 100-
pounder Parrot rifled guns. There were
also Parrot 30 pounders, James’s cannon,
columbiads, and a considerable number of
13-inch mortars, cast at Pittsburgh. The
batteries were mostly constructed tinder
cover of the woods, and were fifteen in
number, mounting, we are informed, but
thirty-six guns; but these were nearh| all
of immense size, and weight.' The heavi
est batteries were situated on Goat Island,
at an average distance of less than two
thousand yards from Fort Pulaski.
Our batteries were manned partly by
the crew of the frigate : Wabash and other
war steamers, and partly by the Rhode
Island artillerists, and a few soldiers from
other companies. An immense amount
of ammunition had been provided for the
siege, and on the 10th instant all the pre
parations were complete, and a sufficient
number of troops for the occupation of the
fort had been landed at Tybee Island, in
expectation of the capture.
XXIE BEGINNING OF THE BOMBABDMENT.
At seven o’clock and fifty-two minutes
on the morning ,of the 10th instant the
attack on the fort began. The rebels at
once replied; and the firing slowly opened
from the different batteries on our side.—
The orders of our men were to fire four
shots from each piece per hour, and to
continue without intermission. The rebels
.fired rapidly and fiercely, endeavoring to
silence our guns, or compel the evacuation
of the batteries; but as the fire opened
along the line, revealing new batteries,
the enemy, apparently surprised at the ex
tent of our works, redoubled their fire, and
in an hour the fight was conducted with
the utmost desperation on their part, but
without effect, their shot either falling
short, or passing over our batteries.
As a proof that the rebels were not ac
quainted with the localities in which our
batteries were built, it is stated that their ,
fire followed the opening of ours from the
different points in regular order, until all
our batteries had opened, and then dis
tributed their efforts, keeping up the rapid
and desperate firing for two hours and a
half. Meanwhile, our fire was continued
from Tybee and Gnat Islands as it had be
gan ; and the rebels failing to do any exe
cution, relaxed their efforts.
Much enthusiasm was manifested by the
federal forces, and as the effects of their
best shots were noted —the bricks and
mortal- of the fort occasionally flying in
nil directions—the men jumped on the
batteries and gave loud cheers. These
demonstrations of course subsided, espe
cially as there was no corresponding ones
from the fort; and towards the middle of
the day the firing on both sides became
regular; the rebels, however, sometimes
retiring from one part of the fort to an
other, as the range of our guns grew bet
ter and rendered their positions danger
ous. ,
The effect of the firing was visible on
the fort from the first, but no' breach was
made the first day. One or two guns
were dismounted and some of the embra
sures were injured, and it was not until
ten o’clock on the morning of the 11th
that any important breach in the walls of
the fort was made. It has been stated
that the projectiles fired from our guns
went at once through the walls, but such
was not the case. Second and third shots,
which were aimed at the same place with
extreme accuracy, did the work which the
rebels attributed to angle shots.
The spectacle of the bombardment was
grand. Our guns discharging rifle shots
and shells, the effect was a continuous ex
plosion inside the fort; fragments of shot
and shell, and of the works of the fort
sometimes filling almost the entire area of
the enclosure, and compelling the rebels to
remain in their casements, but for which
the loss of life among them would have
been fearful.
THE EFFECT OP THE FIRING.
THE SURRENDER COL. OLM3TEAD,
About noon' on the 11th the rebels’ fire
suddenly increased, and they worked at
all their available guns with a'persistency
quite equal if not surpassing that with
which they began on the first day. But
the immense breach in the fort, in an ex
act line with the magazines, threatened to
be the cause of their total destruction
through an explosion, and at eighteen
minutes past two o’clock in the afternoon,
they hauled down their flag, which had
been once shot away, and ran up a flag of
truce. The firing, of course, ceased at
once on our side, and it was not until near
evening that two hundred men, accompa
nied by their officers and General Gilmore,
Went over to the fort to accept the surren
der of the garrison.
Col. Olmstead, the rebel commander at
Fort Pulaski, in delivering his sword to
Gen. Gilmore, also delivered a speech.—
He said it was by might, apd not by right,
that he was compiled to give it up ; and
he hoped he should have the pleasure’ of
using it, again in the same cau£e. The
other officers also gave up their swords,
with the; exception of one, who said his
sword was in Savannah, and he offered his
sash instead, which, however, he was di
rected to keep. The privates surrendered
their arms.
On the Gen. Hunter, Gen. Ben
ham "and: oilier officers, proceeded fo the
fort in the steamer McClellan; and on
their arrival, First-Officer Dennet, of the
steamer, under orders from Gen. Hunter,
hoisted the Stars and Stripes amid loud
cheers. The forces which had held the
fort during the night were putting up a
regimental flag, which was, however, re
placed by the large and handsome ensign,
under which it Was formally taken pos
session of by the commanding officer.
Fort Pulaski is in a condition difficult'
to describe. The breached walls and gen
erally-battered surface, enlarged embija
sures, dismounted and broken guns and car
riages, and general ruin of the inner ;works
caused by the explosion pf shell and tjhe
entrance of shot, are evidences of the ter
rific .firing of our artillerists. There; is
abundant evidence that the fort would, by
their splendid aim, have been literally bet
tered down had the fight Continued.
The prisoners brought io New York are
all privates, and number one hundred and
five. Some are boys, and many are Irish
men who are said to have been impressed
into the rebel service. All are extremely
dirty; and the majority;are rank seces
sionists.
What We Sow We Sham, Reap.—
There was once an old man whose eyes
had become dim, his ears deaf. When he
sat at the dinner I table, he could hardly
hold on to his spoon, so that sometimes he
spilt his * soup on the cloth. His son and
daughter-in-law were much displeased
with this; at last they piithim in a comer
behind the stove, and gave him food in a
little earthen pale. He never got as much
as he could eat, and he would often look
towards the table with Wet yet longing
eyes.
One day his shaking hands let the little
dish fall, and it was broken. The woman
scolded but he said nothing; he only sighed.
They bought a wooden trough for him.—
Once as he was sitting thus in the comer,
his little grandchild, about four years bid,
was pilaying on the floor near him, with
some pieces of wood. ;■
“What are you making?” asked the
father, smiling.
“I am making a trough,” answered the
child, “ for fattier and mother to eat from
when they are old and J am grown big.”
The man and his wife looked at each
other in silence; They: brought their old
father back to the table and gave him as
mncb as he wished, and they never again
spoke angry when his, trembling hands
spilt soup oh the cloth. ; ;
OKFranklin Asking fob Work- —
When a youth, Franklin went to London,
entered a printing office, and inquired if
he could get employment.
“Where are you from?” asked the fore
mam “ America,” was the reply. “ Ah!”
said’the foreman, “from America? A
lad from America seeking employment as
a printer? Well, do you realty under
stand the art of printing 1 Can you really
set type?”
Franklin stepped up to one of the cases,
and in a very brief space of time set up the
following passage from the first chapter of
John:
“ Nathaniel said unto him, can any good
thing come out of Nazaireth ? Philip saith
unto him, come, and see,”
It was done so quickly, so accurately, and
contained a delicate reproof so appropriate
and powerful, that it at once gave h|m a
character and standing with all in the of
fice. ■ j
How to get Girls Married.—Ai thri
ving trader, in Wisconsin, clafining the
paternity of eleven daughters, greatly to
the astonishment of his neighbors, succeeded
in marrying them all off in six months. —
A neighbor of his, who had likewise sev
eral single daughters, Called upon him to
obtain the secret of his husband-making
success, when the latter informed him he
made it a rule, after a young man had
paid his attention to one of his girls a fort
night, to call upon him with a revolver,
and request him to choose between “ death
and matrimony!” “ You can .imagine,”
he continued, “ which of the twb they pre
ferred.” ' " . ■ ;
i Whisky as is Whisky.—A Richmond
correspondent of the Charleston Courier
gives the following lively description of a
light and wholesome spirit now mapnfac
turedto an immense amount in Virginia:
. “It cauterizes the mucous membrane of
the windpipe, sets the brain on fire, and
sendsa cold tremor through the system; the
Soldier who indulges in hall a dozen nips
is likely to stay drunk for a week, and a
seqond or third application drives the
breath out of the body.” I
EDITORS AND
RULES FOB HOXR KDUCAKOE.
The following are worthy of being
printed in letters of gold, and being placed
in a conspicuous position in every house
hold.
1. From your children's earliestinfancy
inculcate the necessity of instant obedience.
2. Unite firmness with gentltonee. Let
your children always understand that you
mean exactly what you say.
3. Never promise anything unless you
are sure you can give them what you
promise.
4. If you tell a child to do anything,
show him how to do it, and see-that it is
done.
5. Always punish your children for
wilfully disobeying you, but never punish
in anger. ;
6. Never let them perceive that they
can vex you or make you lose your self
command.
7. If they give way to petulance and
temper, wait till they are calm, and then
gently reason with them on the improprie
ty of their conduct
8. Remember that a little present pun
ishment, when the occasion arises, is much
more effectual than the threatening of a
greater punishmentrshould the fault be re
newed.
9. Never give your children anything
because they cry for it.
10 On no account allow them to do at
one time what you would have at another
time, under the same circumstances, for
bidden.
11. Teach them that the only Sure and
easy way to appear good is to be good.
12. Accustom them to make their little
recital the perfect truth.
13. Never allow tale-bearing. i
14. Teach them that self-denial, not
self-indulgence, is the appointed and sure
method of. securing happiness.
Gone to Bed. —An eminently good man
thus wrote, on hearing of the death of a
child:—“ Sweet thing, and is he so quickly
laid to sleep? Happy he! Though we
shall have no more the pleasure of his lisp
ing and laughing, he shall have no more
the pain of crying nor of being sick, nor
of dying. Tell my dear sister, that she is
now so much more akin to the next wOrld;
and this will be quickly passed to us all.
John is but gone an hour pr two earlier to
bed, as children usetl to do, and we are soon
to follow. And the more we put off the
love of this present world and all things
superfluous, beforehand, we shall have the
less to do when we lie down.”
Bad Luck.—The Baton Bpuge (La.)
Advocate declares: “We have had had
luck with Kentucky and her people.—
Crittenden, one of her sons, lost a battle
he ought to have gained; Tilghman, an
other Kentuckian, gave up Fort Henry ;
Johnston, another Kentuckian, failed to
save Fort Donelson, which he might have
done; and Buckner, also a Kentuckian,
surrendered twelve thousand men.” They
have had bad luck with North Carolina
as well, and with Florida, and wi(h Ten
nessee, and their usual luck has pursued
them in the Valley of Virginia, and on
the South Carolina and Georgia coasts.
(3*Pain is life’s sentinel. It gives
warning to lt is nature’s moni
tor. It I ,says, “Take care—you have vio
the laws of health—you have wounded
yourself—desist or you die?” Bjut when
the wound is mortal beyond hope, th#sen
tinel gives no challenge. Pain is of no
use then. The victim must die; and usu
ally he Suffers little. Pain, therefore: if
it be a penalty, is also a mercy. It is de
signed only to tell us of danger and to
make us avoid it \
mr When a person is very ill, he says,
“Gbd has afflicted me;” but if he feels
very happy, and very well, how rarely
does he say, “ God has made me happy.”
How prone are we to think God is at
burials, but not at bridals; how prone to
think God is in all dark, sepulchral and
gloomy places, but not in the midst of all
that is bright, giving it greater brightness,
and in all that is joyful adding to its in
tensity and its purity.
47 “ Sam,” said one little nrdiin to an
other, yesterday, “does your schoolmaster
ever give you a reward of merit
“ I s’pose he does,” was the rejoinder;
“he gives ine a lickin’ regularly evory day,
and says I merit two!” ~
47 A young lady latcdy appeared in
male attire in Baltimore, and pne of the
editors says that her was so per
fect that she might have passed for a man,
“ had she Had a little morO modesty.”
47 Franklin said a Bible and a news
paper in every house, a good school in ev
ery district-nail stuffed and appreciated as
they meritr-are the pnncjpalfripport of
virtue, morality add civil liberty^
47 Keep out of. had company, far, the
chance is, that when the d|vu into a
floch he wiß hit swiehpdy- .
NO. 13