Bedford inquirer. (Bedford, Pa.) 1857-1884, April 12, 1867, Image 1
Of Hfiltard gfmjnim is PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING BY I. R. DURBORROW AND JOHN LITZ, ON I ULIANA St., opposite the Mentre I II "use BEDFORD, PENN A TEKMA: •2.00 a year if paid strictly m advance. If not raid within si* niouihs II not paid within Ibejear 5.t.00. !_ grotaslmJ & stds ATTORNEYS AT LAW. S. L. RUSSELL. '• "• LONGENET KER. RUSSELL A LONGENECKER, ATTORNEYS k COUNSELLORS AT LAW, Bedford, Will attend promptly and t0 all busi ness entrusted to their attention given to collections and the prosecution of claims for Back Pay, Bounty, Pensions, Ac. op Juliana street, south of the Court House. April^lyr. *. F. MEYERS '■ W. DICK'ERSON MLYERS A DICKERSON, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, BEDFORD, PENN'A., Office same as formerly occupied by Hon. W. P. Schell, two doors east of the Gazette office, will practice in the several Courts of Bedford CoRnt y- Pensions, bounties and back pay obtained and the purchase of Real Estate attended to. ' May 11, '66— lyr. JOHN T. KEAGY, ATTORNEY AT LAW. BEDFORD, PENN'A., Offers to give satisfaction to all who may en trust their legal business to him. Will collect moneys on evidences of debt, and speedily pro cure bounties and pensions to soldiers, their wid ows or heirs. Office two doors west of Telegraph office. aprll:'66-ly. STCESSNA, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Office with JOHN CESSNA, on Julianna street, in the office formerly occupied by King A Jordan, and recently by Filler A Keagy. All business entrusted to his care will receive faithful and prompt attention. Military Claims, Pensions, Ac., speedily collected. Bedford, June 9,1865. J* M'D. SHARPS *• R - KERR SHARPE A KERR, A TTORNE YS-A T-LA W. Will practice in the Courts of Bedford and ad joining counties. All business entrusted to their care will receive careful and prompt attention. Pensions, Bounty, Back Pay, Ac., speedily col lected from the Government. Office on Juliana street, opposite the banking house of Reed A Schell, Bedford, Pa. mar2:tf JOHN PALMER, ATTORNEY AT LAW, Will promptly attend to all business entrusted to his care. Particular attention paid to the collection of Military claims. Office on Julianna st., nearly epposite the Mengel House.) june 23, 65.1y J. R. JOHN LUTE. DURBORROW A LUTZ, ATTORNEYS AT LAW, BEBFORD, PA., Will attend promptly to all business intrusted to their care. Collections made on the shortest no tice. _ . They are, also, regularly licensed Claim Agents and will give special attention to the prosecution of claims against the Government for Pensions, Back Pay, Bounty, Bounty Lands, Ac. Office on Juliana street, one door South of the ' MeneelHouse" and nearly opposite the Inquirer office. _ April 28, 1865:t ESPY M. ALSIP, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA., Will faithfully and promptly attend to all busi ness entrusted to his care in Bedford and adjoin ing counties. Military claims, Pensions, back pay, Bounty, Ac. speedily collected. Office with Mann A Spang, on Juliana street, 2 doors south of the Mengel House. apll, 1804.—tf. M. A. POINTS, ATTORNEY AT LAW, BEDFORD, PA. Respectfully tenders his professional services to the public. Office with J. W. Lingenfelter, Esq., on Juliana street, two doors South of the "Mengle House." Dec. 9, 1864-tf. KIMMELL AND LINGENFELTER, 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. aprl, 1864—tf. DENTISTS. c. N. HICKOK. . J. G. MINNICH, JR. DENTISTS, BEDFORD, PA. Office in the Bank Building, Juliana street. All operations pertaining to Surgical or Me chanical Dentistry carefully and faithfully per formed and warranted. TERMS CASH. Tooth Powders and Mouth W ash, excellent ar tides, always on hand. jan6'6s-ly. DENTISTRY. I. N. BOWSER, RESIDENT DENTIST, W OOD BERRY, Pa., visits Bloody Run three days of each month, commencing with the second Tuesday of the month. Prepared to perform all Dental oper ations with which he may be favored. 1 erms within the reach of all and strictly cash except by special contract. Work to be sent by mail or oth wise, must be paid for when impressions are taken. augs, '64:tf. PHYSICIANS. DR. GEORGE C. DOUGLAS Respecttully tenders his professional services to the people of Bedford and vicinity. Residence at Maj. Washabaugh's. Office two doors west of Bedford Hotel, up stairs. aul ' WM. W. JAMISON, M. D., BLOODY RUN, PA., Respectfully tenders his professional services to the people of that place and vicinity. [decB:lyr DR. B F. HARRY, Respectfully tenders his professional ser vices to the citizens of Bedford and vicinity. Office and residence on Pitt Street, in the building formerly occupied by Dr. J. H. Hofins. April 1, 1864—tf. L. MARBOURG, M. D., . Having permanently located respectfully tenders his pofessional services to the citizens ofßedford and vicinity. Office or. Juliana street, opposite the Bank, one door north of Hall A Pal mer's office. April 1, 1864—tf. JEWELER, &<'. ABSALOM GARLICK, CLOCK AND WATCH-MAKER, BLOODY RUN, PA. Clocks, Watches, Jewelry, Ac., promptly re paired. All work entrusted to his carc, warranted to give satisfaction. He also keeps on hand and for sale WATCH ES, CLOCKS, and JEWELRY. vsf*- Office with Dr. J. A. Mann. my 4 DANIEL BORDER, PITT STREET, TWO DOORS WEST OF THE BED FORD HOTEL, BEBFORD, PA. WATCHMAKER AND DEALER IN JEWEL RY. SPECTACLES, AC. He keeps on hand a stock of fine Gold and Sil ver Watches, Spectacles of Brilliant Double Refin ed Glasses, also Scotch Pebble Glasses. Gold Watch Chains, Breast Pins, Finger Rings, best quality of Gold Pens. He will supply to order any thing in his line not on hand. apr.2B, 1865—zz. RUPP A SHANNON, BANKERS, BEDFORD, PA. BANK OF DISCOUNT AND DEPOSIT. Collections made for the East, West, North and South, and the general business of Exchange transacted. Notes and Accounts Collected and Remittances prompt lymade. REAL ESTATE bought and sold. feb22 DW. CROUSE WHOLESALE TOBACCONIST, On Penn street a few doors west of the Court House, North side, Bedford, Pa., is now prepared to set by wholesale all kinds of CIGARS. Ail orders promptly filled. Persons desiring anything in his line win do well to give him a call. Bedford, Oct it '65., ©cMorii aiumurev. DURBORROW & LUTZ Editors and Proprietors. SPIRIT VISITANTS. BY HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. When the hours of day are numbered, And the voices of the night Wake the better soul that slumbered, To a holy, calm delight ; Ere the evening lamps are lighted, And, like phantoms grim and tall, Shadows from the fitful fire-light Dance upon the parlor wall ; Then the forms of the departed Enter at the open door ; The beloved, the true hearted Comes to visit me once more. He, the young and strong, who cherished Noble longings for the strife, By the roadside fell and pr ished, Weary with the march of life. They, the holy ones and weakly, Who the cross of suffering bore, Folded their pale hands so meekly, Spake with us on earth no more ! And with them, the being beautious, Who unto my youth was given, More than all those else that love me, And is now a saint in heaven. With a slow and noiseless footstep Comes that messenger divine — Takes the vacant chair beside me, Lays her gentle hand in mine. And she sits and gazes at me, With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars so still and saint-like, Looking downward from the skies. Uttered not, yet comprehended, Is the spirit's voiceless prayer ; Soft rebukes, in blessings ended, Breathing from her lips of air. 0, though oft depressed and lonely, All my fears are laid aside ; If I but remember only Such as these have lived and died. ENDURANCE. How much the heart may bear and yet not break 1 How much the flesh may suffer, yet not die ! I question much if any pain or ache Of BOUI or body brings our end more nign : Death chooses his own time; till that is sworn, All evils may be borne. We shrink and shudder at the surgeon's knife, Each nerve recoiling from the cruel steel, Whose edge seems searching for the quivering life, Yet to our sense the bitter pangs reveal, That till the trembling flesh be piece-meal torn, This alone can be borne. We see a sorrow rising in our way, And try to flee from the approaching ill ; We seek some small escape, we weep and pray, But when the blow falls, then our hearts are still ; Not that the pain is of its sharpness shorn, But that it can be borne. We wind our life about another life, We hold it closer, dearer than our own ; Anon it faints and falls in deadly strife, Leaving us stunned, and stricken, and alone ; But ah ! we do not die with those we mourn; This also can be borne. Behold! we live through all things—famine, thirst, Bereavement, pain ; all grief and misery, All woe and sorrow ; life inflicts its worst On soul and body, but we cannot die, Though we be sick, and tired, and faint and worn, Lo ! all things can be borne. pißrrllaawuji. "THE CALEDONIA TROUT POND. One of the greatest curiosities of Western New York —we may almost say one of the greatest in the world —is the trout breeding establishment of Seth Green, in Caledonia, in Livingston county, to which we paid a brief visit last week. His house and ponds are on the border of the stream called the Caledonia Springs, which flow in a vast vol ume of the purest water from a small hol low in the villiage of Caledonia, and after a course of a mile unites in the villiage of Mumford with Allen's creek, one of the tributaries of the Genesee. The country through which it flows is thickly settled, and one of the richest and best farming towns in the State. The surface of the land is quite level, with banks but little above the surface of the water. The stream, some places, is very rapid, and in others - has a gentle current of a mile or more per hour. The Springs, as now situated, cover about six acres, being dammed slightly for mining purpose. They afford about eighty barrels of water per second, and make a creek from three to four rods wide, and from eighteen inches to six feet deep, according to the cur rent. The bottom was covered with small white shells and gravel. The water is clear, pure and perfectly transparent, so that any object can be seen for three or four rods very distinctly. Its temperature at the Springs is forty-eight degrees the whole year round, but down the creek, three-quar ters of a mile, it rises in the hottest days in summer to fifty-eight degrees by night, but it is down in the morning to fifty-two de grees. In winter it settles at times to forty three degrees, but generally keeps up to forty-five or forty-six degrees The temper ature of the water to Allen's creek is very even the year round, but very cold in sum mer and quite warm in the winter, never freezing in the coldest weather. The water through the whole length of the creek, as well as every stone, stick, weed and blade of grass, is alive and literally cov ered with numerous insects and larvae of flies, summer and winter, so that the trout, however numerous they are, easily obtain all the food they want at all times of the year. There is but very little surface water that makes into tLe creek, hence the volume of water is very even. The first settlers of the country found the creek literally fill ed with trout of great size and beauty, and it has remained so to this day, notwithstand ing it has ocen almost constantly fished,night A LOCAL AND GENERAL NEWSPAPER, DEVOTED TO POLITICS, EDUCATION, LITERATURE AND MORALS. as well as day, from that time to this. The largest and finest trout are taken in the eve ning with a large artificial white or gray mil ler. The number of trout in this stream of a mile in length is computed at upwards of 300,000, the largest of which are each four or five pounds in weight. About four thou sand pounds of trout are taken from the creek yearly. Mr. Ainsworth, of West Bloomfield, to whose excellent article pub lished in the Tribune last winter we are in debted for these statistics, says that on the 18th of December, 1865, he took with the fly a hundred and ten fine trout in about three hours, and on the next day took eigh ty-five splendid fellows from one place. These trout, he says, were as fat, active and gamey as he ever saw them in any other stream in May or June. Seth Green, the celebrated marksman and fly-thrower of this city, bought this creek in 1854, for the pur pose of growing trout artificially, as well as naturally, on an extended scale. He has since prepared ponds, races, hatch houses and hatching boxes and troughs for 3,000,000 of spawn. The pond containing the largest fish and principal spawners was first constructed. A strong volume of water passes through it from the mainstream, the quantity received and discharged being so regulated that there is no danger of over flowing. it enters under a wbeel which is so exactly fitted to its place that not the smallest fish can escape, and maintains a regular motion. This pond is seventy-five feet long, twelve feet wide and four or five feet deep. Mr. Green's dwelling is over the lower end of this pond, which affords shade and a hiding place for the trout when they choose to retire from view. There are from eight to ten thousand fish in this pond, and water enough for fifty times that number. A great deal of food passes through to them from the stream, but they are fed every day with beef liver chop ped, to which they rush in the most excited manner, leaping out of the water, and tug ging voraciously two or three at a time at the same piece. They are so tame that they will take the liver from a spoon or even from the hand, and will even bite the hand itself, as we can testify from the sharp experience of their teeth. To a lover of fish no finer sight can be presented than the sight of this pond, swar ming with splendid trout, as plainly visable, so clear is the water, as if they were in the open air. It is a gigantic aquarium, which probably has no rival in the world, and the mere sight of which will repay the trouble and expense of a long journej'. But besides this main pond Mr. Green has another close by it fifty by thirty feet, which contains about 20,000 two year old trout and still an other, filled with countless multitudes of yearnlings, and lastly, a long pond or brook, in which are hundreds of thousands of this year's hatching. The hatching house is a simple, inexpen sive structure of wood, forty by twenty feet high. It has three screened windows, ad mitting a soft light, and excluding the glare of the sun. Being roofed, the spawn and young trout are perfectly protected from storms or hail, which in shallow water might in one minute destroy thousands of vnunc or a ncavy and sudden fall of rain might wash them from the troughs where they are kept for several weeks after leaving the hatching troughs. These are three in number. The water is brought from the main stream through bored logs and received into a tank six feet long, two feet eight inches wide, and a foot and a half deep, from whence it passes through six strainers into a trough running entirely across the end of the house, and from thence by small gates (which are regulated at pleasure to increase or diminish the flow of water) it passes into the several hatching troughs, &c. These troughs are subdivided, or rather two are placed together, and between them are pas sages for conveniently distributing the spawn, inspecting the. operation of feeding and hatching the young fish. By wooden bars the troughs are partitioned into small squares. By this arrangement the force of the cur rent is checked at each bar, and the front are prevented from huddling in a mass and be coming suffocated. The space on one side is a platform, having a stove and the various conveniences for feeding, k". At one end is a pond eighteen feet square, with about two feet depth of water. If by any means trout escape from the troughs, they cannot get beyond the pond, and the room is ample for keeping millions until they are two or three inches long. From this pond the wa ter passes into the main stream. The hatch ing house and troughs, though not exten sive, are fulfilling the highest anticipations of their persevering and enterprising pro prietor. The bottom of the trough is cover i ed with small, thin gravel, over which the water passes by gentle flow. Thus prepared, they are ready for the re ception of the impregnated spawn, which are spread evenly over the gravel by a dex trous movement of the water, the spawn not being touched or allowed to come in con tact with anything but the water and gravel. Impregnated spawn sink to the bottom, in water running with considerable force, and will remain stationary, if undisturbed, until the young fish begin their efforts for a re lease from confinement. In from fifteen to twenty-six days after the spawn is deposit ed, the young fish is discernible with the j naked eye.— Syracuse Journal. THE SUNNY SIDE. We advise everybody to live on the sunny ! side of their houses. The room in which the family spends most of its time should be on the side on which the sun can find its way into it. Let the parlor, if it be seldom used, be on the shady side. We observe that there is not a cottager so ignorant that she will not set her plants, if she has taste enough to grow them, in the east window in the morn ing, and at noon carry them to a south win dow, and in the afternoon put them in the west window. But perhaps she is careful to keep her children in the shade, and her precious self, so far as possible, out of the rays of the sun. The plants, in obedience to natural law, are kept healthy, while the children and mother, being kept in the shade, suffer in consequence. Light is beginning to be considered a great curative agent. The chief advantage in go ing to the country is to get into the sunshine, and to be in the pure breezes. If we desire merely to keep cool, we should stay in the shady city. People talk of "hot walls" and "burning pavements it is much hotter in the country, for the breezes that play there in midday only bring heated air in from out doors. But in the city the breeze brings air in from the shady side of the street, and the lower rooms of a city house are much cooler in midday than the exposed houses of the country. Parents can do nothing better for their pu ny, sick boys than to put them on a farm for two or three summers, and let the sunbathe them the livelong day. They will, by such a life, grow rapidly, and become tough, brawny and broad. We have seen this tried to the highest advantage in more .than one i instance under our advice. BEDFORD. Pa.. FRIDAY. APRIL JL9, 1867. CHILDREN AND WEALTH. Many are deterrec from marriage for the fear of the expenseof supporting a family. It is a great mistake. A single man spends more in suppers aal cigars that would sup port a wife. Few men lay by much until they have attaincdithe object to lay by for, and thus it comes 10 pass that a family is now, as anciently, the best of hostages to fortune: and none ire so much to be trusted as those who have the large families. Still as a family increaies aiound a man, he is very apt to feel as f five or six children were a constant drain ujon his efforts at accumu lation, and that children were poverty in sted of wealth. Bit it is not so, at least in every respect, or iven on the largest, and broadest sort of sctle. Thus for instance, in a national point of view, our first method of estimating the greatness of States, is by the number and rapid increase of its inhabitants. Every child born in the tnited States makes the nation so much the .-JMJre respected abroad and powerful at tome, so much the more wealthy and intellgent, for on the average each citizen produces more of wealth than he consumes, and ii some department or other adds to the accumulating stock of wis dom and experience. Now a nation is but a great family, so may we best test our views of what is best for a'family by what is good for a nation. Children are weak, and need support when the parents arc strong to support them, iu order that they may be strong when parents are weak, and be able to support them; and thus is made up that bundle of strength which a large family ever generates. Each wisely brought up and well educated child is the best or all investments of a pa rents wealth of money, of affection, and of effort. "Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them. " They are "as arrows in the hands of a mighty man.'" Children keep a man youug. He who mingles only with those older than himself soon grows old; but he who accustoms him self to mingle large';' and freely with those younger than he, as suprisingly retains his youth. It is a remark of Bulwer, a close observer of human nature, that it is a good sign for a young man to love the society of men who are older than himself, and for an old man to love the company of those younger. It is thus that youth acquires the experience and wisdom of age. ana that age retains the vigor, freshness and elacticity of youth. Children have in themselves a fund of wealth in the overflowing affections which God has given them, which they impart to all who come near or have much to do with them. If they call out the energy of a man, and make him work hard in the hours of busi ness, they relax and refresh him with their warmth and geniality and absence of care in the hours of relaxation, and of throwing it off. THE BENEFIT OF BEING KNOCKED ABOUT IN THE WORLD. It is a good thing for a young man to be "knocked about in the world," though his soft hearted parents may not think so. All youths, or if not all, certainly moeteen-twen tiothc of the audi total, enter life with a sur plusage of self conceit. The sooner they are relieved of it the better. If, in measur ing themselves with wiser and older men than themselves, they discover that it is un warranted, and get rid of it gracefully, of their own accord, well and good; if not, it is desirable, for their own sakes, that it be knocked out of them. A boy who is sent to a large school soon finds his level. His will may have been paramount at home, but school boys are democratic in their ideas, and if arrogant, he is sure to be thrashed into recognition of the golden rule. The world is a great public school, and it soon teaches a new pupil his proper place. If he has the attributes that belong'to a leader he will be installed in the position of a leader; if not, whatever his own opinion of his abilities may be, he will be compelled to fall in with the rank and file. If not des tined to greatness, the next best thing to which he can aspire is respectability; but no man can either be truly great or truly re spectable who is vain, pompous and over bearing. By the time the novice has found his legitimate social status, be the same high or low, the probability is that the disagreeable traits of his character will be softened down or worn away. Most likely the process of abrasion will be rough, perhaps very rough, but when it is all over, and he begins to see himself as others see him, and not as reflec ted in the mirror of self-conceit, he wi 11 be thankful that he has run the gauntlet, and ai rived, though by a rough road, at self knowledge. Upon the whole, whatever loving mothers may think to the contrary, it is a good thing for youths to be knocked about in the world; it makes men of them. GET ENOUGH SLEEP. We have often heard young men remark that four or five hours, sleep was all they wanted, and all that the human system re quired. The habit of going without suffi cient sleep is injurious. Thousands, no doubt, permanently injure their health in that way. We live in a fast age, when every body seems to he trying to pervert the order of Nature. If fo'ks-will persist in turning night into day, it is not to be wondered at that few last out the allotted term of life. No matter what may be a man's occupation —physical or mental, or like Othello's, "gone," and living in idleness —the consti tution cannot last, depend upon it, without a sufficiency of regular and refreshing sleep. John Hunter, the great surgeon, died sud denly of spasmodic affection of the heart, a disease greatly encouraged by the want of sleep. In a volume just pubhlised by a medical man there is one gieat lesson that hard students and literary men may learn, and that is, that Hunter probably lulled himself by taking too little sleep. "Four hours rest at night, and one after dinner, cannot be deemed sufficient to recruit the exhausted powers of the body and mind." Certainly not; and the consequence was that Hunter died early. If men will insist on cheating sleep, her "twin sister, death," will avenge the insult. OVERWORKED WOMEN.— An over work ed woman is always a sad sight—sadder, a great deal, than an over worked man, be cause she is much more fertile in capacities of suffering than a man. She has so many varieties of headache —sometimes as if Jael were driving the nail that killed Sisera into her temples—sometimes letting her work with half her brain, while the other half throbs as if it would go to pieces -some times tightening around the brows as if her cap band were Luke's iron crown —and then her neuralgias, and her backaches, and her fits of depression, in which she thinks she is nothing, and those paroxysms which men speak lightly of as hysterical—convulsions, that is all, only not commonly fatal ones —so many trials which belong to her fine and mobile structure, that she is always entitled to pity, when she is placed in conditions which develop her nervous tendencies. — Dr. 0. W. Holmes. NIGHT WORK. Many of the most brutal murders and greatest crimes committed in the city of New York, are perpetrated by persons un der twenty-five years of age. This shows a very early corruption of morals, and as an eminent jurist once said, is easy traceable to the habit of being from home alter dark. Lord Shaftsbury stated that in nearly all the cases of great crimes which came before the courts of evidence showed that the moral character became vitiated between the ages of eight an sixteen. These terrible facts put together should make every city parent, especially, tremble ; and if it should lead to the adoption of the following suggestions, it would save many a heart from going down in sorrow to the grave, or from embittered old age. Do not allow your children to form the habit of "going home" to spend the night with their companions—no, not once in a year. Keep them off the streets after sun-down unless you are with them. Do all that is possible to have a loving, cheerful and happy fireside, as a means of weaning them from the street. Much can be done in this direction by providing amusements, and having the children occu pied in something interesting, profitable or now. Keep the birthdays, let them be occasions of harmless festivities ; arrange that all hol idays, too, shall be observed appropiiately. Let the father and mother remember that the exhibition before their children of a loving, affectionate, and quiet deportment towards one another in the home circle is a powerful bond of union in a family ; the very sight of it wakes affectionate sympa thies in the hearts of children, and cherish es the same delightful feelings in themselves and soon the house becomes the,home of love and qtiiet delight. Within half a mile of us there are quite a number of families of this sort, some of them among the weal thiest in the city, but it is singular to ob serve that in almost every case it is in con sequence of the mother's all pervading in fluence —mothers who are quiet, gentle, la dy-like, but firm in the right, always. Ma ny homes are made distasteful to children by incessant restrictions and criticisms, by innumerable rules and regulations. A house hold is better regulated by an affectionate pliancy than by an inflexible rigidity ; yield ing in non-essentials, but firm as a rock in all questions of right and wrong. The night work from eight to sixteen determines the life character of millions. —Hall's Journal. A LETTER TO HIS WATCHMAKER. FRIEND WOOSTER:— I herewith send thee my pocket clock which greatly stand cth in need of thy friendly correction ; the last time he was at thy friend's school he was no ways reformed, nor even in the least benefitted thereby ; for I perceive by the in dex of his mind, that he is a liar, and the truth is not in him ; that his motions are wavering and irregular ; that his pulse is sometime quick, betokening not an even temper ; at times he waxeth sluggish, not- TritHotftmimg 1 frcqueucly hiu. , he should be on his duty, as thou knoweeh his name denoteth, I find him slumbering and sleeping, or as the vanity of human rea son phraseth it, I catch him napping. Hence I think he is not right, in the inward man. Examine him therefore, and prove him, I beseech thee, thoroughly, that thou may'st being well acquainted with his inward frame and disposition, draw from him the error of his ways ; and show him the path wherein he should go. It grieves me to think, and when 1 ponder thereon, I am verily of opin ion that his body is foul, and the whole mass is corrupted. Cleanse him. therefore, with thy charming physic from all pollution, that he may vibrate and circulate according to truth. I will place him a few days under thy care, and pay for his hoard as thou re quirest it. I entreat thee, friend Henry, to demean thyself on this occasion with a right judgment according to the gift which is in thee, and prove thyself a workman that need not be ashamed. And when thou layest the correcting hand on him, let it be without passion, lest thou drive him to de struction. Do thou regulate his motion for the time to come, by the motion of that light that ruleth the day, and when thou findest him converted from the error of his ways, and more conformable to the above mentioned rules, do thou send him home, with just bill of charges, drawn out by the spirit of moderation, arid the root of evil shall be 6ent unto thee. A CURSE TO THE COUNTRY Next to the inordinate use of intoxicating beverages we may probably class the haste to become rich as a deplorable evil —the de sire and expectation of getting something for nothing, or for a very inadequate equiva lent, if we may use the word in such a sense —which lead so many of our youth to aban don trades in order to swell the crowds of clerks, lawyers, doctors, Ac., now and always so largely in excess of the demand for their services. A desire to he rich is not in itself wrong, but the tendency is not to scruple at the means, and to end in disgrace and ruin. There are cases where a young man is justifiable in getting into debt —there are cases where a few years of a struggle with indebtedness may do him good—but these are "the exceptions which prove the rule" correct that debt is incompatible with inde pendence, and should be avoided. Borrow ing money on interest is a curse to any young man, eating up his earnings and keeping him poor. The man who saves even a few dollars a year, and invests it at interest, will eventually become rich, whilst the one who borrows to make up the deficit occa sioned by extravagance, or venturing beyond his means, will undoubtedly struggle all his life to keep his head above water. - Avoid "speculation," mistrust all schemes promising enormous returns, whether lotter ies, faro banks, or more respectable modes of gambling, be assured that any gains that may accrue from them are more than lost by the taste they give for inordinate risks. It you call to mind the lucky individuals who have become wealthy in this way in the past twenty years, you will find nearly all of them poor now —the money has gone as rapidly as it came, and is teaching the same lesson to its present possessors. A dollar earned by honest industry, mental or physical, is worth more to the man who earns it than tenfold gained by speculation, and is not near so likely to be expended foolishly or risked recklessly. He who can save such a dollar will more probably accumulate wealth in life than the one without industry who makes more money with less work. It is deplora ble how many of our young unmarried men waste their earnings in folly and dissipation, and are "to poor to get married" —or, if they marry, have acquired such tastes and habits as tend to render that relation any thing hut an agreeable one. There can be no good reason for a young lady and healthy single man, having no one dependent upon him, not saviog something every year for in vestment, and it is to be regretted so few do so. VOLUME 40; NO. 15. THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE, We have heard of President Finney's sermon from the text, "!Jheir feet shall slide," and how as he preached his perora tion, people would clutch the seats to keep from going over into the pit of eternal de spair, while some would shriek, and others would cry "don't." We have heard also of Gougli's wonderful power over audiences— raising them up from their seats, affecting them to tears, or compelling them to laugh at his will. But we have never heard of any speaker making the deception so perfect, or the matter so real, as in the recitation of the little poem, "Twenty years ago," bythe elocutionist, Prof. Griffith. The poem in troduces two friends and schoolmates, one of whom has been recently visiting the old homestead, school house and play grounds —and he gives his impressions to his friend. We quote a few lines : "I've wandered to the village, Tom, I sat beneath the tree, Upon tho school house playing ground, which sheltered you and me ; But nono were there to greet me, Tom, and few were left to know Who played with us upon the green, some twen ty years ago. The grass was just as green, Tom, bare-footed boys at play Were sporting just as wc did then, with spirits just as gay: But master sleeps upon the hill, which, coated o'er with snow, Afforded us a sliding place, just twenty years ago." When the elocutionist reached the stanza following, his utterance was slow and thoughtful, as if trying to recall the name of the old game : "The boys were playing souie old game—beneath that same old tree, I—Jo—forget—the name—just now, —you've played the same with me On that same spot. —'Twas played with knives by throwing—so—and—so—" As the speaker made gestures and mo tions describing the game, an old gentleman in the back part of the house arose and said distinctly, " Mumblety peg, sir, mumblety peg." It was so real to the old man that he* thought he would help the speaker out of his difficulty by suggesting the name. Of course it brought down the house. — Charlotte Republican. _ UNFORTUNATE—VERV. A young medical student from Michigan, who had been attending lectures in New York for some time, and who considered himself exceedingly good-looking and fas cinating, in ade a deadly onslaught on the heart and fortune of a blooming young lady in the same family with him. After a long seige the lady surrendered. They were mar ried on Wednesday, in the morning. The same afternoon the young wife sent for and exhibited to the astonished student a ''beau tiful little daughter aged three years and a half. "Good heavens !" then you was a wid ow ?" exclaimed the student. "Yes, my dear, and this is Amelia, my youngest; to-morrow, Augustus, James and Reuben will arrive from the country, and tueu 1 cWall have my children together once more." The unhappy student replied not a worn, his feeling were too deep for utterance. The "other little darlings" arrived. Reuben was six years, James nine, and Augustus a saucy boy of twelve. They were delighted to hear they had a new papa, because they could now live at home, and have all the playthings they wanted. The "new papa," as soon as he could speak, remarked that Augustus and James did not much resemble Reuben and Amelia. "Well, no," said the happy mother; "my first husband was quite a different style of man from my second —complexion, temper ament, the color of hair and eyes—all dif ferent." This was too much. He had not only married a widow, but was her third hus band, and the astonished stepfather of four children. But the fortune, thought he ; that will make amends. He spoke of her fortune. "These are my treasures," said she, in the Roman matron style, pointing to her children. The conceit was quite out of the Michi gander, who, finding that he had made a complete goose of himself, retired to a farm in his own native State, where he could have a chance of making "his" boys useful, and make them sweat for the deceit practi ced upon him by their mother. A TRUE GENTLEMAN. He is above a mean thing. He cannot stoop to a mean fraud. He invades no se cret in the keeping of another. He takes selfish advantage 01 no man's mistake. He is ashamed of inuendoes. He uses no igno ble weapons in controversy. He never stabs in the dark. He is not one thing to a man's face and another to his back. If by accident he comes into possession of his neighbor's counsels, be passes upon them instant obliv ion. He bears sealed packages without tampering with the wax. Papers not meant for his eye, whether they flutter in at his window or lie open before him in unregarded exposure, are sacred to him. He profanes no privacy of others, however the lentry sleeps. Bolts and bars, locks and kevs, bonds and securities, notice to trespassers, are not for him. He may be trusted out of sight—near the thinnest partition—any where. He buys no office, he sells none, in trigues for none. He would rather fail of his rights than win them through dishonor. He will eat honest bread. He tramples on no sensitive feeling. He insults no man. If he has a rebuke for another, he is straight forward, open and manly. He cannot de scend to scurrility. Billingsgate don't lie on his track. Of woman, and to her, he speaks with decency and respect. In short, what ever he judges honorable he practices to ward every man. BE ECONOMICAL. —If the poor house has any terrors for you never buy what you don't need. Before you pay seventy-five dollars for a coat, young man, find out wheth er your lady would not be just as glad to see you in one that cost half the money. If she would not let her crack her own hazle nuts aud buy her own clothes. When you see a man spending two or three dollars a week foolishly, the chances are five to one that he will live long enough to know how many cents there are in a dollar, if he don't he's pretty sure to bequeath that privilege to his widow. When a man asks you to buy that for which you have no use, no matter how cheap it is, don't say yes until you are sure that some one else wants it in advance. Money burns in some folks' pock ets, and makes such a big hole that every thing that is put in drops through past find ing. Louisville newspaper, in noticing the return of Humphrey Marshall to that Elace, adds that "the bar of Louisville is to e congratulated on the accession to its strength." The Chicago Time* wants to know which bar ? RATES cents per for communications of cecding five 10 cts. ccs of every kind, and all other Judicial sales, are required Vylffw to b puoMI lished in both papers. Editorial Notices 15 cents' per line. All Advertising due after first insertion. A liberal discount made to yearly advertisers. 3 months. 6 months. 1 year One square $ 4.50 $ 6.00 $lO.OO Two squares... 6,00 9.00 16.00 Three squres 8.00 12.00 20.00 One-fourth column 14.00 20.00 85.00 Half column 18.00 25.00 15.00 One column 30.00 45.00 80.00 TIME PASSING. Have you ever seen tlto.se marble Tatues in some public square or garden, which wt has so finished with a perennial fountain, that through the lips, or through the hands, the clear water flows in a perpetual stream, on, on, on forever; and the , marble stands there —passive, cold, making ho effort to ar rest the gliding water? It ©so that time flows through the hands of mfcn. Awift, never pausing till it has run itself out. and there is the man, petrified ito alha not feeling what it is which is passiB t awsy forever. ; : . It is so, just so, that the destiny of nine men out of ten accomplishes itself, slipping away from them, aimless, useless, till it UP too late. And we are asked, with all thfi solemn thoughts which crowd around aq approaching eternity, what lias been oar life' and what do we intend it shall be? Yestef day, last week, last year— they are gone. Yesterday, for example, was such a day never was before, and never can he again. Out of darkness and eternity it was born, new. fresh day; into darkness and eternity it sank again forever. It had a voice calling to us, of its own. Its own work, its own duties, what were we doing yesterday? Id ling, whiling away the time in idleness and luxurious literature —not as life's relaxation but as life's business? thrilling our heart with the excitement of life? continuing now to spend the day most pleasantly? Was that our duty? Sleep, brethren: all that is but sleep. And now jet us retitea~ ber this, there is a day coming when-that sleep will be rudely broken with a shock; there is a day in our future lives whea our time will he counted, not by years, nor by months, nor yet by hours, but by minutes, the day when unmistakable symptoms shall announce that the messengers of death have come to us. — F. W. Robertson. NEVER GIVE UP. FC } §&/: Many a premature death has oceured in consequence of up. The sfektrc; becomes discouraged, thinks he U going to die, and dies. Friends think they Save done all they could, death is inevitable, nd _j let disease take its course. There can be no doubt but that in many such cases hope . still cherished, and the persevering use of : means, might have saved useful life. So also in the struggles of active life. The first speech of Disraeli in the House of Com- * mons, was a complete failure, his speech it is said being stifled in the derisive laughter of the House. He thus closed: l 'l shall sit - down now, but the time will come will hear me." Numbers have sunk into ® insignificance under a less rebuff. Disraeli was made of sterner stuff. Though it took (1 him seven years to recover from his disas- Nj ter, he redeemed his promise, anion bee ui- n ing chancellor of the exchequer, "ehi injj the same garments he had worn at the umC of his renowned failure, delivered to a close ly crowded assemblage the most brißiant and the ablest budget speech that had isien | heard there since the days of William Pittr*' ( Every one should feel that he is immortal i till his work is done. "Try again," is-aa 1 good for the adult as for the child. If con vinced that our cause is wrong, the soeujer i it is renounced the better. Cease toAo evil; but when contending for !--; Igah . admit no defeat a* final. We learnflCflßjfcffl times more from a failure than a and turn it to better account. Such shotntt J ever be our aim. Use all honorable means* 1 rely on the ultimate triumph of right, - severe in the effort to deserve success* and', I failure will never be inscribed on 3'£jl£-4 r ?.'-1 work. The irresolute and half-hearted hwjjfj no good to expect, for that would only ue a premium of imbecility. THE UNCHANGING FRIEND. Is there a more frequent cause of com plaint than the changes which come over , our earthly affairs? Where is the bring who, in the course of his life, has not found reason to reiterate the words, "Whon\ can , we trust?" We know not, when we give our respect, our friendship, our confidence to a human being that the compact may last for an hour. A change of fortune, a rise in rank, a slight fault, or even a whim, may send our affections back into our wounded J hearts. _ Ji A concurrence of circumstances which could not have been foreseen by us is alwawudj ready to betray our dependence on arraroj&l ments which we fancied had been - reflection and sagacity, as we walked oit in 1 the fond belief of having done well for our selves. So that, though sorely needing a safe anchorage, frail and exposed beings as U we are, we often find ourselves on shifting sands or nearing fatal rocks. a To whom, then, shall we go, when oil* y own resources fail to meet our newsaU(ss, yj . and our friends sympathize, but are power less to avert failure? To whom, then, shall we go, but tobwty-< who is touched with the feeling of our iufir- J mities, and who alone can offer a security of <fl refuge which meets our helplessness to the I utmost; an unchanging and unchangeable 1 friend—"Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, } and to day and forever?" ZELL. FROZEN KINDNESS.—The world is full of kindness that never was spoken, and that is much better than no kindness at all. The fuel of the stove make the wood warm, but there are great piles of fallen trees lying among rocks on the top of the hill, where nobody can get them ; these do not im*kr:;,j anybody warm. You might freeze to deith. < in plain sight of these trees, if you had not* means of getting the wood and making a fire- '* with it. Just so in a family ; love is what , makes the parents and children, thfi crs and sisters, happy ; but if they foke care never to say a word about it, if they keep it a profound secret, as if it were a crin; \ / i they will not be much happier thaoffi-thi J was not any love among them ; the ho: * **| will-seem cold even in summer, ana if you $ live there you will envy the dog when any , one calls him "poor fellow." Oaf An exchange tells the following char- ; acteristic story of the poet writer ; On a I recent occasion he was traveling with a * friend over a New Hampshire Railroad, aod during the conversation, Whittier's friend— ' who is also a member of the Society f Friends —told the poet that he was on loij; way to contract for a lot of oak timber*-* which he knew would be used in buil 'ing gunboats at Portsmouth, and asked him 1 whether he thought it was exactly in con- J| sistance with the peace doctrine.) of the Quaker denomination. Without saying any- * thing calculated to decide the question, the I two friends arrived at their parting accc*.*l when Whittier shaking his friend's hand*; said; "Moses if thee doea furnish any of , that oak timber thee spoke of, be sare_iliak .J it is all sound." ® MANY persons, especially ladies, are rant of the proper place in which to dx|ve a j nail in a wall wnen desiring to hang a ture. &c. Examine the wainscoting around 1 the bottom of the wall, and when you fWFH the head of the nail that has secured it t o I the wall, immediately over it, from the hot- J i torn upwards, will be the only i to fina a firm footing for the uaii.