B P McNEIL. Editor and Proprietor. 3HF %t&fext\ IS PUBLISHED -"Every Friday Morning on Juliana Street, OPPOSITE THE HEXtlEli HOUSE, BEDFORD, BEDFORD COUNTY, PA. TERMS: $2.90 a year if paid strictly in advance, $2.25 if not paid within three months, $2.50 if not paid within the year Rates of Advertising, One Square, three weeks or less ....,.....$1 25 One Square, each additional insertion less than three months „ 30 3 Jdonths, 0 Months, 1 Year. One Square..... $3 50 fl 75 $S 00 Two squares 5 00 7 00 10 00 Three squares 6 00 9 00 15 00 i Column .. , 12 00 20 00 35 00 One Column ...J, 20 00 35 00 05 00 Administrators' and Executors' notices $2.50, Auditors notices $1.50, if under 10 lines, Estrays $1.26, if but one head is advertised, 25 cents on every additional head. One square is the SPACE occupied by ten lines of min ion. Fractions of a square under five lines count as a half square, and all over five lines a full square. Adver tisements charged to persons handing them in. PROFESSIONAL AND BUSINESS CARDST ESPVM. AUSIP, ATTORNEY AT LAW; Bimpimn, PA., Will faithfully and promptly attend to all business en trusted to his care in Bedford and adjoining counties. Military claims, Fsnsions, back pay, Bounty, Ac. spee dily collected. Office with Mann A Spang, on Juliana street, 2 doors south ofthe Mengel House. April 1, 1864.—tf. J. R. DIJRBORROW, ~T " ATTORNEY AT LAW, BEDFORD, FA. Office one door south of the "Mengel House," W 1 attend promptly to all bnsiness intrusted to hi care Collections made on the shortest notice. Having, also, been regularly licensed to prosecnte Claims against the Government, particular attention will be given to the collection of Military claims of all kinds; Pensions, Back Pay, Bounty, Bounty Loans, Ae. Bedford, apr. 8,1864 —tf. ALEX. kl.Xb. ATTOH.VEY AT LAW. And agent for procuring arrears of Pay and Bounty money. Office on Juliana Street, Bedford, Pa. April 1,1864—tf. KIMMELL A UN4.EXFELTEB, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA. Have formed a partnership in the practice of the Law Office on Juliana Street, two doors South of the Mengel House. April 1,1864—tf. JOHS MAJOR, JUSTICE OF THE PEACE, HOPEWELL, BEDFORD COUNT*. Collections and all business pertaining to his office will be attended to promptly. Will also attend to the Hale or renting of real estate. Instruments of writing carefully prepared. Also settling up partnerships and other ac counts. April 1. 1864—tf. •ISO. MOWER. ATTORNEY AT LAM. BEDFORD, PA., April 1, 1864 tf. JOSEPH W. TATE. ATTORNEY AT LAW, BEDFORD PA. IVTILL promptly attend to collections and all business ' entrusted to his carein Bedford and adjoining conn ties. Money advanced on Judgmen Notes and other Claims. Has fov sale Town Lots, in Tatesville, and St. Joseph.s on Bedford Railroad. Farms and unim proved land '.n quantities to suit purchasers. Office opp ositethe Banking House of Reed A Schell. apr. 15, J 564—10 m. JOHN Ll/TZ, ATTORNEY AT LAW, AND Regularly licensed agent for the collection of Govern ment claims, bounties, back pay, pensions, Ac., will giTe prompt attention to all business entrusted to his care. Office with J. R. Durborrow, Esq., on Juliana Street, Bedford Pa. August 19th, 1864.—tf. fljU A. POINTS, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA. Respectfully tenders his professional services to the public. Office with J. W. Lingenfeltcr, Esq., on Juliana •treet, two doors South of the "Mengle House." Bedford, Dec. 9, 1864-tf. DENTISTRY. I. N. BOWSER, Resident Dentist of Wood burr, \\FILL -pend the second Monday, Tuesday, and Wed r V nesday, of each month at Hopewell, the remaining three days at Bloody Run, attending to the duties of his profession. At all other times he can be found in his of !iee at Woodhnrv, excepting the last Monday and Tues day ol' the same month, which he will spend in Martins arg, Blair county, Penna. Persons desiring operations should call early, as time is limited. All operations war ranted. Aug. 5,1864,-tf. C. X. HICJLOK, J. G. MINNICH, Ja. DENTISTS, BEDFORD, PA. (Ijß in the Hank ffnildin>j, Juliana fltrerl. All operations pertaining to Surgical or Mechanical iD-ntictry carefully and faithfully performed and war. ranted. TERMS CASH. janft'6s-ly. DR. B. F. HARRY, Respectfully venders his professional services to the •citizens of Bedford and vicinity. Office and residence on Pitt Street, in the building formerly occupied by Dr. J. H. Hofiua. April 1, 1864—t1. J. L. MARBOURG, If. D. Having permanently located respectfully tenders hit • fe--ional services to the citizens of Bedford and vi nity. Office on Juliana Street, opposite the Bank, on< door north of Hall A Palmer's office April 1, 1864—tf. DANIEL BORDER. I'ITT STUKKT, TWO DOORS WEST OF THE BEDFORD HOTEL Bedford, Pa. H'stchmakerA Dealer in Jewelry,Npectaeleii. A< HE KEEPS ON HAND A STOCK OF FINE GOLE AND SILVER WATCHES, SPECTACLES 01 brilliant Double Refined Glasses, also Scotch Pebbli • Classes. Gold Watch Chains, Breast Pins, Finger Rings | best quality of Gold Pens. He will supply to order any thing in his line not or band. "pr. 8, 1864—ta. U. S. HOTEL, HARRISBL'RG, PENN A., CORNER SIXTH AND MARKET STREETS, OPPOSITE READING R. R. DEPOT. D. H. HUTCH INHON, Proprietor. jan6'63-3m. UNION HOTEL. VALENTINE STECKMAN, PROPRIETOR, est Pitt Street, Bedford, Pa., r (Formerly the Globe Hotel.) J liE public are assured that he has made ampe ar * range men ts to accommodate all that may favor hin "a heir patronage. * splendid Livery Stable attached. fap'ro4. EXCHANGE HOTEL, HUNTINGDON, PA. Aprti jjth, ibS.ift. S ' MIW^R ' Proprietor. A LOCAL AND GENERAL NEWSPAPER, DEVOTED TO POLITICS, EDUCATION, LITERATURE AND MORALS. BRITISH PERIODICALS, VIE. The London Quarterly Review (Conservative). The Edinburgh Review (Whig). The Westminster Review (Radical). The North British Review (Free-Church). AND Blackwood's Edinburgh Magarine (Tory). The American Publishers continue to reprint the above named periodicals, bnt as the eost of printing has doubled and the price of paper nearly trebled, they are compelled to advance their terms as follows: Terms for 1865. For any one of the Reviews $4.00 per annum. For any two of the Reviews. 7.00 " For any three of the Reviews 10.00 " For all four of the Reviews 12.00 " For Blackwood's Magarine 4.00 * For Blackwood and any one Review... 7.00 " For Blaokwoed and two of the Reviews 10.00 " For Blackwood and three of the Reviews 13.00 " For Blackwood and the four Reviews 13.00 " These works will be printed on a greatly improved quality of paper, and while nearly all American Periodi cals are either advanced in price or reduced in sire—and very generally both—we shall continue to give faithful copies of ail the matter contained in the original editions. Hence, our present prices will be found as cheap, for the amount of matter furnished, as those of any of the com peting periodicals in the country. Compared with the cost of the original editions, which at the present premium on gold would be about SIOO a year, our prices (sls) are exceedingly low. Add to this the fact that we make our annual payments to the British Publishers for early sheets and copyright in Gold—sl costing us at this time nearly $2.30 in currency—and we trust that in the scale we have adopted we shall be entire ly justified by our subscribers and the reading public. The interest of these Periodicals to American readers is rather increased than diminished by the articles they con tain on our great Civil War, and though sometimes ting ed with prejudice they may still, considering their great ability and the different stand-points from which they are written, be read and studied with advantage by the peo ple of this country of every creed and party. LEONARD SCOTT A CO., Publishers, No. 38 Walker Street, New York. Jan. 27, 1865. THE NEW-YORK TIMES. The price of the Turns (Daily) is FOUR CEXTS. To Mail Subscribers per annum $lO 00 Including Sunday morning edition, sl2. THE SEMI-WEEKLY TIMES. One copy 1 year $3 OO Two copies 1 year 5 OO THE WEEKLY TIMES. One copy 1 year .. $2 OO Three copies 1 year.... 5 OO Fresh names may at any time 'se added to clubs, both of the WEEKLY and STMI-WEEKLY, at Club Rates. Payment invariably in advance. We bare no authorized traveling A'jenti. Address H. J. RAYMOND A CO., Publishers. Dec.23,'64-2m. DESCRIPTIVE CIRCULAR OF THE HOPEWELL OIL COMPANY. Capital.—s2oo,ooo. Shares. —200,000. .Par Value, SI.OO. Hon. JOHN ROWE, President J. SIMPSON AFRICA, Secretary and Treasurer. DIRECTORS: W. S. FLETCHER, McConnellsburg. Pa. JOHN ROWE. Greencastle, Pa. F. BENEDICT, Bedford, Pa. J. H. SEYMOUR, Hagerstown, Md. J. C. EVERHART, Martinsburg, Pa. JOHN J. SCHELL, Somerset, Pa. C. P. RAMSDELL, Oil City, Pa. The property of this Company consists of 200 acres of land, in fee simple, situated on the west side of the Alle gheny river, a short distance above 'be mouth of Scrub Grass Creek, in Scrub Grass Township, Venango county, Pa. It has a frontage along the river of one mile, wilh good boring surface for the whole distance. Two good oil wells are now in operation on the east side of the river, immediately opposite the property of the Co. The following in regard to an adjoining tract, is taken from an editorial in the Philadelphia Prtee Current, or December 17 : ''The geological relation of this property to Oil Creek, is such that the oil-bearing strata, which supply the wells on the Middle Section of Oil Creek (from the Washington MeClintock Farm on the north to the Buchanan on the South) must pass under this property: the range of the strata certainly bringing the two localities into this mutu al relation. Other data, obtained from an investigation of the conformation of the ground, and the underlying rocks, lead to the same conclusion, viz: that the main belt of oil, which extends down from the north-northeast and supplies the wells on the Washington, MeClintock, Egbert, Stone, Tar, and Buchanan Farms, sweeps down still farther on the same south southwest direction, cor responding with and controlled by the inclination of the strata, and underlies this property. It is well ascertain ed by the testimony of aged and respectable residents that the Indians, years ago, gathered oil from the surface of the ravines on this property and used it for rheumatic af fections. i In later times the teamsters of Bullion Iron Furnace, gathered and used the oil for the puspose of applying it to gails and bruises on their horses. Oils for years was seen to exude at a number of places; among others, at the root of an old stmnp on the bank of the Allegheny river, and in the ravine alluded to. A few years ago, the then owners of the tract, with one or two of their neighbors, bored a well, a few feet above the old stump. The first vein of oil was struck at the depth of 286 feet, and the second at 46(1 feet; an experien ced miia from Oil Creek was employed to tube the well, which produced a stream of'oil three quarters of an Inch in diameter. The owners of the well, not satisfied with its production, pulled out the chamber, and drilled some feet deeper, when they struck salt water in large quantities and of great strength. Believing that the man ufaoture of salt would, at the time, yield them a bottei profit, tbey arranged their seed bags in the well, so as to enable them to exclude the oil and pump the salt water. Still oil was pumped along with the water, in such quan tities as to gather upon the top of the water-tanks, from whence it was collected, barreled and sold." There is every reason, therefore, to believe that the pro perty of the Company is rich in its supplies of oil. The inclination of the Strata proves, conclusively, that those supplies of oil on Oil Creek have a higher level than the oil-bearing rooks on this property; and that, consequently, the supply will be more permanent than that of Oil Creek itself. The large extent of boring territory, equal to that of half a dozen companies on Oil Creek, a boat-landing on the Farm, with the advantage of a navigable stream for the transportation of oil, and the certainty of the exis tence of large quantities of coal upon the tract, makes the property of incalculable value. The Company are about preparing to sink several wells, and confidently expect the early development of oil in paying quantities. The plan of organization adopted by the Company com mends itself to public approval, from the fact that it places no fictitious value upon its stock, but confines the sale of shares strictly to their par value. A limited number of Shares can be had by applying to the following named gentlemen : F. Benedict, Bedford, Pa. Jacob Heed, " " B. F. Meyers, " •' J. Henry Schell, Sehelltburg, Bedford County. Pa. James Lowther, Altoona, Blair Countv, Pa. S. 8. Barr, Hollidaysburg. Pa. C. W. Asbeoin, Hopewell, Pa. I. H. Kansler, Hagerstown, Md. 8. H. Prather A Co., Greencastle, Pa. J. Hostetter A Co., " " J. J. Phillips, Waynesboro, " John S. Miller, Huntingdon, " Samuel Henry, " " W. D. McKinstry, Merccrsburg, " And at tne Office af the Company, No. 435 Walnut St, hiladelphia. dee.23,'64. Blanks. Blank, judgement notes, deeds, bonds and mort gages Ac. Ac., for sale at the Ikqciker Office- BEDFORD, Pa., FRIDAY, JANUARY 97, 1865. ffdettg. EXCELSIOR. BT LOXQFBLI.JW. . The shades of night were falling fast, As through an Alpine village passed A youth, who bore, mid snow and ice, A banner with the strange device, Excelsior! His brow was sad ; his eye beneath. Flashed tike a falchion from its sheath, And like a silver clarion rung The accents of that unknown tongue; Excelsior! In happy homes he saw the light Of household fires gleam warm and bright; Above, the spectral glaciers shone, And from his lips escaped a groan, Excelsior! 'Try not the Pass!" the old man said; 'Bark lowers the tempest overhead, The roaring torrent is deep and wide !' And loud that clarion voice replied, Excelsior! t) stay,' the maiden said, 'and rest Thy weary head upon this breast!' A tear stood in his bright blue eye, But still he answered, with a sigh, Excelsior! 'Beware the pine-tree's withering branch! Beware the awful avalanche!' This was the peasant's last gcod-nigbt, A voice replied, iar up the height, Excelsior! At break of day, as heavenward The pious monks of Saint Bernard Uttered the oft-repeated prayer, A voice cried through the startled air, Excelsior! A traveller, by the faithful hound, Half buried in the snow was found, Still grasping in bis band of ice That banner with the strange device, Exeelsior -' There in the twilight cold and gray, Lifeless, but beautiful, be lay, And from the sky, serene and far, A voice fell, like a falling star, Excelsior! PISHING ON. When I was a boy about your age My rosy-cheeked John! rosv-cheeked Joh ! I took as my motto from some old page, "Pushing on," I wrote it all over my books and slate, All over them, John ! over them, John ! And thought ever of it both early and late, "Pushing on." At work or at play, at home or at school, Think ofit, John i ihtuk of it, John ! A books or at playthings, 'twas ever the rule— "Pushing on." I pushed out of boy, and pushed into man. That I did, John that I did, John! I pushed out of "can't," and pushed into "can," "Pushing on." Whenever an obstacle in my path lay, And many did. John ! many did, John ! I pushed and I pushed 'till I pushed it away, "Pushing on." I pushed through the world with an honester heart, Honester, John 1 honester, John ! Than many a man wich a fairer start; "Pushing on." And now I've a good wife, children well taught, Very well, John ! very well, John ! A snug little fortune, all honestly got; "Pushing on." I've pushed a large place in the hearts of the poor, That is good,. John ! very good, John ! For I never po<> d any away from my door; ••i'ashiug on." I'm now an old man, iny head white as snow. And mother's too, John ! mother's too, John ! And down the bright valley together we go, "Pushing on." I am still pushing on for a happier land. Trustingly, John ! trustingly, John ! Trustingly holding my father's hand— "Pushing on." THE PHIZE ESSAY. WRITTEN FOR THE NEW YORK OBSERVER. CHRISTIAN CHEERFULNESS. BY REV. FRANCIS J. COLLIER, CANONSBCROH, PA. The life of many Christians is a life of constant adness and gloom. They seem to be entire stran ;ers to all the happiness of earth and all the hopes if heaven. Their faces commonly oppcar as sombre ts the stones which mark the dwelling places of the lead. Their feelings are better expressed in sighs ban in songs. Unhappy themselves, they make ithers unhappy ; they come and go like clouds, shutting out the sunshine from cheerful hearts, and, "or a while castinc upon them shadows, cold and lark. Some suppose that this melancholy is a sure evi lenee of extraordinary piety. Others imagine that It is the necessary and invariable effect of all reli gion, to depress the spirits and make men gloomy md morose ; and entertaining this erroneous opin ion, they refuse to acquaint themselves with the Ho ly Scriptures, neglect all private and public acts of ievotion, and prefer to mingle with the people of the world rather than to mingle with the people of God. Now we believe that dejection is neither the ne cessary result ofgenuine faith, nor the indication of uncommon grace, but that it is altogether at vari ance with the spirit of the gospel. The religion of Jesus is essentially consoling and exhilerating, and so has a natural tendency to produce cheerfulness in the soul. The best aud truest Christians ought to be the happiest and most hopeful of men. His fea tures should wreath themselves into sweet and at tractive smiles, instead of forming, as we often see, only forbidding frowns. His words should not he cross, bat kind ; —expressions of comfort rather than of comp'aint. The cheerfulness of which we speak, is not a mo mentary mood, but a lasting temper. It is not the noise of mirth nor the emptiness of levity. It is a serious and abiding joyajoy resembling the flame of a wax candle, which is so mild, so steady, so bright, so pure. The Christian owes it to himself to be cheerful. Only when he is so, has he attained a state most conducive to the enjoyment of high spiritual pleasure most suited to encourage the growth of the heaven ly graces, most consistent with the free exercises of the souls mightiest energies, most adapted to lighten its crossof and cares. "The man who is possessed of this excellent frame of mind," says Addison, "is not only easy in his thoughts, but a perfect master of all thalpowers and faculties of his soul; his ima gination is always clear, and his judgment undisturb ed; his turn per is even and nn ruffled, whether in ac tion or !* solitude. He cotnes with a relish to all those goods which nature has provided for him, takes all the pleasures of the creation which are poured about himand does not feel the full weight of those evils which may befall him." The Christian owes it to his fellow men to be i heerful. Amidst all the trials and disappointment and anxieties aud sufferings which pertain to this earthly existence, and which tend to shroud tliescjtil in distressing gloominess, they have need at all tirne to see 'HWhts" in the world, —to see those wh<*< faces consjf-ntly beam with a heavenly glory,—whose looks au4jivords aud deeds are a gcod medieau which ne vpr fails to give peace to the troubled spirit. And do yo|l not think that if each one of the Lord s disciples were thus to pass the days of his pilgrimage; if his presence in the social circle, at the bedside;ol the sick, aft the cottage of the poor, in the halls;ol learning, aad at the mart of business, were hailed as a bright supbeam which diffuses joy and.gladness: if. in truth, his path were the path of the just, which, "as the shfning light, shineth more and more unto the perfect clay," our blessed religion would be well commendeq to the world, and the triumphs of the cross become glorious ? It is the excelleut remark of Archbishop Usher —"If good people would but make their goodness agreeable, and smile,instead oi frowning, in their virtue, how many would they win to the gootfceause!" The Chrifttian owes it to the Lord to be habitually cheerful, fiis example must be copied, his will nbeyed. Yon know the record of the Saviour's life, how that he spake unto the man sick of palsy, and to the terrified disciples tempest-tossed upon the Sea af Galilee, and to the little band weeping in pros pect of their Lord's departure from the world, and to others trcfttbled and sorrowful, and his words were ever the same—"Be of good cheer." "Be -of good cheer." Tien is it not the duty of every Christian to endeavor to attain that spiritual state in which he will be eapable-ot receiving and doing the greatest iraonnt of good? We are assured that such is his luty, and we believe that cheerfulness is an exalted frame of rniftd. arising frpm and resting upon a firm faith, a strong love, a steadfast hope, and a good conscience,-*-4i state well pleasing to our Divine Master. Perhaps nothing has a greater tendency to cast irloom over the spirit, than disease. The mind sym pathizes with the body as much as the body with the mind. Their union is so intimate, so delicate, so sensitive, that what affects the one necessarily af fects the other. Each to a certain degree deter mines the other's condition. If the mind is joyful ts emotion is betrayed by the expression of the body "A merrydioart tmaketh a cheerful countenance." But if the. body is injured, or the physical system: leranireA, "■•tiers, and forthwith Iroops into sadness* It becomes, therefore, y0... Christian duty, if yoifhave health, to study the law.- af your physical oeing, to compel yourself both tc labor and to rest, to avoid unnecessary risks or ex posure, to abstain from injurious indulgences, to be prudent, temperate, chaste, and by every propei means, to try to preserve what is so essential to youi spiritual comfort. If you iiave lost this boon strive :o regain it. Think not, speak not, all the while about your malady. Suppress moans and complaints: hey are always disagreeable to others, they can nev it be beneficial to you. Count your mercies and no: vour miseries. Try upon your body the stimulou; if a cheerful spirit. It may not insure your recove ry, but it will certainly produce a pleasant allevia tion. "A merry heart doeth good like a medicine but a broken spirit drieth the bones.' Another cause of dejection is idleness. Employ inent is essential to our spiritual as well as oui physical well-being. And it is only when we art •ngaged every day in some useful task, some enter prise of business, some sportive recreation, SOUK work of taste, some acqisition of learning, or some deed of charity—somthing that will call into action the hands, or the head, or the heart ;—it is only when so doing that we have any right to expet'i health or happiness. An idle body is Death s easi est prey; an idle brain is either "the Devil s work shop" or "the slough of Despond." "They that lo nothing," says Mason' "are in the ready way tc :io worse than nothing. It was not for nothing that we were called out of nothing." Our Blessed Sa viour "went about doing good." And you should do likewise, if you profess to be his follower. It you have nothing to do for yourself, do something for others. When you cease to be idle you may ex pect to be cheerful. The_ want of cheerfulness is often owing to the neglect of duty. A man may be in his counting room when he ought to be in his closet. He may be looking over his ledger when he ought to be searching the Scriptures. He may lie at a political meeting when he ought to be at the meeting for prayer. What he does may be right enough when it is done at a proper time ; but when worldly bus iness excludes or interferes with the performance of religious duty, then it becomes wrong; and in such a case, the Christian's spirit is soon prostrated un der the severe sconrgings of an offended consci ence. Again, a man may fulfill one duty and at the same time slight another more important. He may act after the manner of the Pharisees, who paid "tithe of mint and anise and cummin," while they "omitted the weightier matters of the law, judge ment, mercy, and faith." Matt. '28:29. The moral effect in this case will be the same as in the other. Conscious of his fault, the man feels depressed, and manifests bis feeling by his moody silence or querulous speech. Doubtless, you pray to be kep* free from this melancholy aud disagreeable state, even though it were to last for a single day. The rule for your guidance is plain: —Learn your whole duty and perform it well, and a heart filled with cheerfulness will be your sweet reward. When envv pushes out contentment from the soul, cheefulness goes with it We sometimes complain and feel discontented when we see others living in more commodious and elegant dwellings, better clad, more sumptously fed, possessed of a higher refinement of mind or manners, or occupying a more exalted position than ourselves ; but if we were to reflect, that for every one above us there are hundreds beneath, we would have less occasion for sighs of regret and more for songs of rejoicing. "Be contest with such things as ye have," says the apostle. He does not mean that we should be con tent with our sins, or with our ignorance, or with our imperfect graces, but with our worldly sub stance, and even concerning that he merely stops our mouthi against murmurings, while he leaves our hands froe to labor. And why should we not be content With our earthly comforts ? We have far more lhan we dcserVe, more than many of our fcllow-mec, more than Chrjst hpd, and, if we are faithful, wi will have better thin'ire by and by. When the soul is perplexed with doubts it is a stranger to cheerfulness. They cause uncertainty as to our change of heart and acceptance with God, or as to our belief in the truths of Divine Revela tion. They are cobwebs which Satan weaves to obscure the vision of Faith. A breath of Heaven ly Spirit can clear them all away. Prayer sets in motion this invisible Power. Sometimes doubt are frightful specters which haunt the shades of ig norance. A few bright rays from the lamp of God' - World will canse them speedily to disappear. Most frequently, doubts are the vile progeny of disease. The remedy which restores health to the body will rid the soul of their annoying presence. Memory often causes dejection. It reminds u- Oi our neglected duties sad misimproved privileges, our opinion and secret sins, our unkind words and actions, our mistakes cud disappointments, our tri ais snd temptations, our disputes and enmities, out sufferings and losses, ft'e grow cheerless looking at such a gloomy oanoraina of our lives. But if we were to revert to our past enjoyments and mercies and successes, U the good that we have done, to the wisdom which we have gained in the schools of misfortune, to trie full forgiveness which Christ has bestowed, —if ve were to look more at the bright side af our eiperienee and less at the dark, we would rise soon, and be completely, out of our des pondency. Forebodings of evil rob the mind of cheerfulness. ''llls that hare never happened have mostly made men wretched," says Tupper. Casting our glance ahead, we see ''lions" in the way—difficulties which we art sure we can never overcome :—griefs under whose heavy weight, we shall be utterly crushed! .Not satisfied with onr present troubles, we borrow mis ery from the future. The Holy Scripture instructs us to do otherwise. "Thou knowest not what a day may bring forth." —Prov. '27:1. "Take therefore no thought for the morrow ; for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient un to the day is the evil thereof. - ' Matt. 6 : 34. And then it gives ns a golden promise, "As thy days, so shall thy strength be." But after all, afflictions are the chief and most unavoidable cause of despondency. It may seem very unreasonable, like mockery indeed, to ask bim to be cheerful, who hits become the victim of dis ease, or who has seen his ship wrecked, his crops blasted, his cattle perish, his debtors fail, his prop erty consumed or swept away with a flood, and sad dest of all! who has seen his beloved ones sicken and die. and bnried in the earth! And yet. if he is a true child of God. it is his right, yea it is his du ty. amidst all these sore troubles, to be of good cheer. He may then regard his afflictions not as punishments for his sins, but only as Fatherly chastisements intended for his good,—making him humble, making him sensible of his weakness and unworthiness, and causing him to look to the Al mighty for aid and comfort, and so well fitting him for his heavenly citizenship and his heavenly crown! Surely God does not delight in lamentations and tear£; and t ti... sncn are use less— o.ry cannot repair his losses, nor lighten his sufferings: and if proof were required, they are evidence enough that his heart was too much wed ded to the world, and hence he had need to be af flicted. More plAvsing to God is the cheerful and submissive spirit that can sing "songs in the night;" that can say, "It is good for me that I have been afflicted. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord!" The Christian's worldly losses are his heavenly gains. Like a ship upon the stocks, he is ready, when the last of his earthly supports is knocked away, to launch, forth into the widely extended sphere of a new life ! The hindrances in the way of cheerfulness seem many ; but it is encouraging to know that they are uot alike to all. and they are not so great but that they can be overcome. The end to he gained is worthy of the best means, and the mightiest and most persistent endeavor. And duty urges every one to make an effort to rid his face of frowns, his manners of crabbedness. bis heart of gloom. This obligation rests with peculiar force upon the Lord's followers. Truly, 0 Christian! you above all men have rea son to acquire and retain a cheerful disposition- — No longer au alien from the commonwealth of Is rael, a stranger to the covenants of promise, but redeemed, regenerated, forgiven, made a child of God. protected and nourished by your Almighty- Father, trained, instructed, lovad, baring a mansion in your Father's house, made an heir to a heavenly inheritance, and expecting soon to receive a crown of glory that fadeth not away—o ! why should you. why should any one in such a case, give way to de jection? God's own temple—purified, strengthen ed, adorned with beauty, furnished with every good ly and gladsome thing, filled with sacred light and peace, having within the glory of the shekinah— your devotions sweet incense, your heart a burning and acceptable sacrifice —0 ! have you not great rea son for abiding cheerfulness! If in this life oniy you bad hope in Christ, then, indeed, yon might tie miserable: but having "a hope which is an anchor of tie soul, both sure and steadfast, and which en tereffi into that within the vail," how inexcusable does it seem, that you should be habitually downcast and sorrowful! Arise, 0 Desponding One! Quit your tearful abode in the valley of gloom, and come and make your dwelling on the bright hill-top of cheerfulness. Look up! look up! and behold the sun shining ihaough the clouds, and the stars through the dark ness! CfIRRIPTION IN POLITICS. It is not necessary that any man should have an opinion as to the guilt or innocence of the parties in the great libel suit which was ended in this city last week, in order to have a very decided opinion as to the nature of the revelations which that suit made of the character of our politics as a system or trade driven by men who make it a business. Perhaps it discovers on our part a want of knowl edge of the world. Perhaps we shall be considered verdant. But we do not desire to conceal the fact that the disclosures made on this trial are appalling to our moral sense, and such as in our judgement ought to make each particular hair of every honest man stand on end. The worst of all is that the facts are of such public _ notoriety that no .one is shocked by them, and it is considered a matter of course that politics and politicians are corrupt, and nobody cares.. . ; , Take but one example out of the many exposed by this trial, that the clerks in the Custom House were called on to contribute ten thousand dollars to promote the election of a Mayor in the city of New York. We are told that one party does no more of this wickedness than another, and we take it for granted, just now, that it is so. And what tjien ? We have it admitted that persons in the service of the General Government are taxed to pay the ex penses of the ejection of a municipal officer, whoso duties have no relation to national politics, and whose claims to office ought to be decided solely on local grounds -What has the Custom House to do with the Mayor's office ! And why should men who hold their appointment under the United States Government be required to pay a part of their sala ries to defray the expenses of our municipal elec Vo.l 38: No. 5 tions ? ibe incongruity is so glaring and the abuse :s so monstrous, that it can find no justification, ex cept in the usage of politics. And no one is so stupid as to suppose that money S ?i w v TOn ß fuU y extorted is rightfully employed. ? For ail the proper and necessary expenses of a political canvass the money is contributed readily ; but-lb ere are ways and means of using money corruptly, and lor these base and corrupt purposes, the money must be raised in some way, and this system,of tax- ation is one, and a shameful one. But it is of little use to raise a voice of remonstrance against specific acts of wrong doing, when we find, as this trial has disclosed, that the rottenness is in the bones of the body of politics, and that corruption is tainting the entire atmosphere of the political world. Perhaps the inability- of the jury to agree is evidence of the state of public opinion on this subject. They were nearly equally divided—about six l'or one and half a dozen for the other—they could not agree in their opinion upon the case submitted to them after three weeks investigation ! And the opinion of the pub lic may be divided in the same manner. But there is no dispute among honest men as to the great fact that our politics, National, State and Municipal, hare become fearfully demoralized, and the time has come for a reyolulion iu sentiment and a radical re form, if we would preserve the moral life of the nation, and even the forms of intelligent liberty.— i his terrible truth was brought out with great pow er in the speeches of lawyers ; but such appeals are so generally regarded as interested declamations, hat they fail to make the proper impression on the popular mind and heart. We take up the appeal.— We proclaim it from the tribune of the press, and in the ears of the very men who ought to be aroused to their duty ; we mean thoughtful, intelligent, up right citizens, who now stand aloof from political parties, and do all their work for the country iu the one minute of the year when they drop their votes into the ballot box. Because such men have deser ted the field of political action, politics are now managed by another set and sort of men ! Behold and see the men who now manipulate the votes of the people and elect themselves 1 And behold also the men of intelligence arid worth and vast wealth, who are self-exiled from all participation in the adminis tration of public affairs ! It b primarily their own fault. It would be impossible to persuade them now to venture into the political arena, and expose them selves to the dust and mire of its strifes for place and power. It may be too late to prevail on the better portion of the people to awake and arise in their might, and expel from power the men who now legislate for hire and job the interests of their con stituents. But the experiment is worth trying.— This city is worth saving. The State is worth sav ing. The Nation is also. And unless this corrup tion of politics, the pestilence that now walketh in darkness, is stayed, itis'in vain that we put down armed rebels against the Government and cherish these vipers in the bosom of the people. Far above the strife of mere political parties, and above the short-lived questions of the day, rises the great overshadowing truth that money rules our politics, that money buys men into office and buys their votes after they are in office, and that it isnec essary "to make it an object" for legislators to give their influence to this or that measure, before they will support it, and thus the interests of the commu nity are made merchandise of, under the bassest of all forms of traffic. These are things to be thought of by religious men. We speak unto wise men.— -V. i'. Observer. • — Stkfhek Gikabu.—Within the memory of many persons still alive, "old Girard," as the famous banker was usually styled, a short, stout, brisk old gentleman, used to walk, in his swift, awkward tne streets Of ig.. of Philadelphia, though everything about him indicated that he had very little in common with his fellow-citizens, he was the marked man of the city for more than a generation. His aspect was rather insignificant and quite unprepossessing. His dress was old-fashioned and shabby ; and he wore the pig-tail, the white neck-cloth, the wide-brimmed hat. and the large skirted coat of the last century. He was blind in one eye : the other, though his burly eye-brows gave -owe character to his countenance, was curiously devoid of expression. He had also the absent look b£ a man who either had no thoughts or was ab sorbed in thought; and he shuffled along on his normous feet, looking neither to the right nor to he left. There was always a certain look of the jld mariner about him. though he had been fifty ,'ears au inhabitant of the town. When he rode it ivas in the plainest, least comfortable gig in Phila delphia, drawn by an ancient and ill-formed horse, Iriven always by the master's own hand at a good :>ace. He chose still to live where he had lived :'or fifty years, in Water street, close to the wharves, ti a small and inco.ivenient house, darkened by tall uore-houses, amid the bustle, the noise, and the jdors of commerce. His sole pleasure was to visit, once a day, a little !'urm which he possessed a few miles out of town, vhere he was want to take off his coat, roll up his -hirt-sleeves, and personally labor in the field and 11 the barn, hoeing; corn, pruning trees, tossing my, and not disdaining even to assist in butchering he animals which he raised for market. It was no nere ornamental or experimental farm. He made t pay. All of its produce was carefully, nay scru luiously husbanded, sold, recorded, ana accounted or. He loved his grapes, his plums, his pigs, and (specially his rare breed of canary birds; but the jeople of Philadelphia had the full benefit of their ncrease—at the highest market rates. Many fear >d, many served, but none loved this singular and onely old man. If there was among the very few vho habitually conversed with him, one who under tood and esteemed him, there was but one; and he vas a man of such abounding charity, that, like Un 'le Toby, if he had heard that the Devil was hope essly damned, would have said, "I am sorry for it." S ever was there a person more destitute than Girard if the qualities which win the affection of others. — lis temper was violent, his presence forbidding, lis usual manner uugracious, his will iuflexible, his loart untendei, his imagination dead. He was odd itis to many ot his fellow-citizens, who considered lim the hardest and meanest of men. He had ived among them for half a century, but he was no nore a Philadelphian in 1830 than in 1776. He itill spoke with a French accent, and accompanied lis words with a French shrug and French gesticu ation. Surrounded with Christian churches which le had helped to build, he remained a sturdy unbe iover, and possessed the complete works of only me man, Voltaire. He made it a point of duty to labor on Sunday, is a good example to others. He made no secret it the fact that he considered the idleness of Sun lay an injury to the people, moral and economical, tie would have opened his bank oil Sunday if any me would have come to it. For his part, he re quired no rest and would have none. He never raveled. He never attended public, assemblies or unusements. He had no affections to gratify, no j-iends to visit, no curiosity to appease, no tastes to ndulge. What he once said ot himself appeared o be true, that he rose in the morning with but a angle object, and that was to labor so hard all day is to be able to sleep all night. The world was ab solutely nothing to him but a working place. He ■aorned and scouted the idea that old men should rcase to labor, and should spend the evening of ilicir days in tranquility. ''No," he would say, "labor is the price of life, its happiness, its every thing; to rest is to rust; every man should labor to * the last hour of his ability."' Such was Stephen Girard. This is an unpleasing picture ot a citizen of polite and amiable Philadelphia. It were indeed a grim and dreary world, wherein sh juld prevail the prin ciples of Girard. But see what this man lias done for the city that loved him not! Vast and imposing structures rise ou the banks of the Schuylkill wherein at this hour six hundred orphan boy's are fed, clothed, trained, and taught upon the incorne of the enormous estate which he won by this entire consecration to the work of accumulating property. In the ample grounds of Girard College, looking up at its five massive marble edifices, strolling in its shady walks, or by its verdant play-grounds, or lis tening to the cheerful cries of the boys at play, the most sympathetic and imaginative of men must pause before censuring the sterile and unlovely life of its founder. And if he should inquire closely into the character and career of the man who willed this great institution into being, he would, perhaps, be willing to admit that there was room in the world for one Girard, though it were a pity there should be another.— Jsorth American Jleview, Jan uary, 1865. —
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers