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tions desired, will be continued till forbid and charged ac
cording to these terms.
NEW GOODS,
NEW GOODS,
NEW GOODS,
NEW GOODS,
AT BEN JACOBS'
AT BEN JACOBS'
CHEAP CORNER,
CHEAP CORNER.
BENJ. JACOBS has now upon his shelves a large and
full assortment of
SPRING AND SUMMER GOODS,
comprising a very extensive assortment of
LADIES' DRESS GOODS, DRY GOODS,
READY-MADE CLOTHING, GROCERIES, HATS & CAPS,
BOOTS & SHOES, &c., ac., &c.
His stock of CLOTHING for men and boys is complete—
every article of wear will be found to be good and cheap.
Full suits sold at greatly reduced prices—panic prices—
which will be very low.
His entire stock of Goods will compare with any other
in town, and the public will do well to call and examine
before purchasing elsewhere.
As I am determined to sell my goods, bargains may be
expected, so all will do well to call.
Country Produce taken in Exchange for Goods.
BENJ. JACOBS, Cheap Corner.
Huntingdon, April 6, 1859.
NEW MARBLE YARD
IN HUNTLYGD ON,
ti FL N TR ET BETWEEN . I
JAMES M. GREEN informs the citizens of the county
generally, that he has opened a MARBLE YARD at the
above place, and is prepared to finish marble to order in
tha best workmanlike manner.
TOMB STONES, BUREAU and STAND TOPS, &c., fur
nished on short notice, and at reasonable prices.
He hopes, by strict attention to business, to merit and
receive a share of public patronage.
Huntingdon, May 4, 1859-Iy.
GROCERIES,
DRY GOODS,
CONFECTIOA'ARIES cC7 NOTIONS
G. A. MILLER informs the citizens of Huntingdon and
vicinity, that he keeps constantly on hand a general as
sortment of GROCERIES, Confectionaries, &c., and that
he will try to accommodate his customers witlythe best.
Ile also has on hand an assortment of Dry Goods, Boots
and Shoe: , , Hats, and other goods.
Thankful fur past favors, he hopes to merit a continu
ance of the same.
Dont forget the place, in the old Temperance Hall
• [Huntingdon, April 20, 1559.
NEW GOODS 1
D. P. GVVIN'S CHEAP STORE
D. P. GWIN has just returned from Philadelphia, with
the largest and most beautiful assortment of
SPRING AND SUMMER GOODS
Ever brought to Huntingdon. Consisting of the most
fashionable Dress Goods for Ladies and Gentlemen; Black
and Fancy Silks, all Wool Delaines, (all colors,) Spring De
lains, Braize Delanes, Braizes, all colors; Debaize, Levella
Cloth, Ducals, Alpacca, Plain and Silk Warp, Pri n ted Ber
ages, Brilliants, Plain and Colored Uingliams, Lawns and
Prints of every description.
Also, a large lot of Dress Trimmings, Fringes, More-An
tique Ribbon, Gimps, Buttons, Braitli, Crapes Ribbons,
Reed and Brass Hoops, Silk and Linen Ira talkerc iefs. N eck-
Tics, Stocks, Zepher, French Working Cotton, Linen and
Cotton Floss, Tidy Yarn, Ac.
Also, the best and cheapest assortment of Collars and
Undersleves in town ; Barred and Plain Jaconet, Mull Mus
lin. Swiss, Plain, Figured and dotted Skirts, Belts, Mar
sallies for Capes, and a variety of White Goods too numer
ous to mention.
A LARGE AND BEAUTIFUL ASSORTMENT of Bay
State, Waterloo and Wool Shawls, Single and Double
Brocha Shawls. Cloths, Cassimeres, Cassinctts, Tweeds,
Kentucky Jeans, Vestings, bleached and unbleached Mus
lins, sheeting and pillow-case Muslins, Nankeen, Ticking,
Checks, Table, Diaper, Crash, Flannels, Sack Flannels,
Canton Flannels, Blankets, &c. Also, a large lot of Silk
and Colored Straw Bonnets, of the latest styles, which
will be sold cheaper than can be had in Huntingdon.
HATS and CAI'S, BOOTS, SHOES, the largest and cheap
est assortment in town.
HARDWARE, QUEENSWARE, BUCKETS, CHURNS,
TUBS, BUTTER BOWLS, BROOMS. BRUSHES, &c. CAR
PETS and OIL CLOTH. FISH, SALT, SUGAR, COFFEE,
TEA, MOLASSES, and all goods usually kept in acountry
store.
My old customers, and as many new ones as can crowd
in, are respectfully requested to call and examine my goods.
far All kinds of Country Produce taken in exchange for
Goods, at the Highest Market Prices. D. P. GWIN.
Huntingdon. April 6, 1859.
LIKES PEAK GOLD!
- Cannot rival in attraction the superb stock of SPRING
and SUMMER Goods now being received and opened by
FISHER & M' MURTRIE.
This stock has been selected with great care, and the
public are cordially invited to call and examine it.
It comprises all the late styles of Ladies'
Dress Goods, such as Poil De Chevre, Robes A'Lez, Organ
dice, Jacconets, Lawns, Challis, Plain and Figured Berages,
Crape Marets, Plain and Colored Chintzes, French and
English Ginghams, Amaranths, Valentias, Alpaccas, Do
Rage, Prints, &c., &c.
A beautiful assortment of Spring Shawls,
round and square corners, all colors. A full stock of La
dies' Fine Collars, Gentlemen's Furnishing Goods, such as
Collars, Cravats, Ties, Stocks, Hosiery, Shirts, Gauze and
Silk Undershirts, Drawers, &c.
We have a fine selection of Mantillas,
Dress Trimmings, Fringes, Ribbons, Mitts, Gloves, Gaunt
lets, Hosiery, Handkerchiefs, Buttons, Floss, Sewing Silk,
Extension Skirts, Hoops of all kinds, &c.
Also—Tickings, Osnaburg, Bleached and
Unbleached Muslins, all prices; Colored and White Cam
brics, Barred and Swiss Musline, Victoria Lawns, Nein
nooks, Tarleton, and many other articles which comprise
the line of WHITE and DOMESTIC GOODS.
French Cloths, Fancy Cassimers, Satinets, Jeans, Tweeds,
Denims, Blue Drills, Flannels, Lindseys, Comforts, Blank
ets, &c.
flats, Caps, and Bonnets, of every variety
and Style.
A Good Stock of GROCERIES, HARDWARE, QUEENS
WARE, BOOTS and SHOES, WOOD and WILLOW-WARE,
which will be sold Cheap.
We also deal in PLASTER, FISH, SALT, and all kinds
of GRAINS. and possess facilities in this branch of trade
unequalled by any. We deliver all packages or parcels of
Merchandise, free of charge, at the Depots of the Broad Top
and Pennsylvania Railroads.
COME ONE, COME ALL, and be convinced that the Me
tropolitan is the place to secure fashionable and desirable
goods, disposed of at the lowest rates.
FISHER & 3VMURTRIE.
Huntingdon, April 6, 1859.
SlOlOOO REWARD ! !
MOSE-S STROUS,
Will risk the above sum that he can Sell Goods, to every
body, at prices to suit the times. His stock has been re
newed for SPRING and SUMMER, and he invites all to
call and examine for themselves.
His stock consists of every variety of
LADIES' PRESS GOODS, •
DRY GOODS, OF ALL HINDS,
READY-MADE CLOTHING,
Such as Summer Coats, Frock Coats, Dress Coats, Jackets,
Vests. Pants,. Sm.
BOOTS and SHOES, HATS and CAPS, of all sizes, for
old and young.
GROCERIES, of the best; QUEENSWARE, &c., &c.
-The public generally are earnestly invited to call and
examine my new stock of Goods, and be convinced that I
can accommodate with Goods and Prices, all who are look
ing out for great bargains.
All kinds of Country Produce taken in exchange for
Goods. MOSES STROUS.
Huntingdon, April 6,1859.
GROCERIES, &c., &e.—Call at the
cheap store of BENJ. JACOBS. All kinds of coun
try produce taken in exchange at the highest market pri
ces. (0ct2.8.)
OOK BINDING.
Old Books. Magazines, or publications of any kind,
ound to order, if left at
LEWIS' BOOK cf: STATIONER _V STORE.
, I`. VINCENT AND VISITATION
MANUALS, for sale at
EWIS' BOOK, STATIONERY AND /4IISIC STORE.
$1 50
75
NEW GOODS I!
WILLIAM LEWIS,
VOL. XV.
se.ittt Vottrg.
WELCOME HOME.
EY J. DOLDTGEROKE REYNOLDS
The summer hours, all gay with flowers
Have fled into the past,
And autumn days, with purple haze,
Have come again at last;
But oh. those summer hours were long
Without the music of thy song.
The trees were green, and every scene
Was radiant with light,
The birds sang sweet 'mid summer heat,
The days were long and bright;
But brighter far those days I ween
In thy sweet presence would have been.
The summer breeze played 'mong the trees,
Swept o'er the fields of grain,
And sighing through the pine and yew,
Awoke a sweet refrain ;
But oh, that strain to me so sweet,
Thy voice alone could make complete.
The flowers that bloomed aro now entombed,
The hills are turning gray,
And silently from every tree
The leaves are dropping way;
And as the lights of summer flee,
With swelling heart I wait for thee.
I've 'waited long, but soon thy song
Shall stir again my lyre,
The spirit free shall wake in mo
The old poetic fire;
Then come, my gentle angel, come
Where all will welcome thee—at home
v 'axzt '.
The First Game of Euchre.
It was a cold and windy night in January
the snow was spreading the earth with her
mantle of white; there was a continued ring
ing of sleigh bells. Look one, two, three,
four sleighs are running by us. What can
this mean ? Oh, yes, there is a party at Jud
son's to-night. On they went, a gleaming of
sleighs, horses, pretty faces, and a waving of
handkerchiefs. The jingle of the bells has
ceased—the sleighs have stopped before the
palatial dwelling of Mr. Judson, lights are in
the hall, lights are in the parlor—in fact the
whole house is illuminated.
Servants in livery are at the door, and on
the broad stone steps, to attend to the wants
of the young and the gay, who have just alight
ed. Many peals of laughter welcome the in
vited ; there is indeed a musical expression
on the countenance of the assembled ; the
piano is playing soft accompaniments to the
melody of song ; "a dance, a dance, let's have
a dancy," is echoed from two or three, eager
to "trip the light fantastic toe."
Now all have joined in the mazy dance ; all
seem to enjoy themselves ; fun to our heart's
content is the motto by which all seem to be
inspired ; the dancing has ceased, and tables
are produced, and all save one are playing
euchre. Cards of different kinds are turned
up as trumps on the different tables.
" One, two, three—only three are playing
at this table," exclaimed Lizzie May, looking
around impatiently—" only three ; for my
part I despise that miserable cut-throat game
of three ; only one more is wanted to make
the set. We have him—there he is," point
ing to Harry James, who was reclining lazily
upon the sofa.
" I thank you, he does not play," said his
friend, Mr. Reed, "or he would have joined
us at the very first." -
"No matter," answered Lizzie, " we can
learn him. I will ask him at any rate."—
And she hastily joined Harry. " You seem
to be forsaken to-night, Harry. You are
alone and without enjoyment. We want a
partner, come join us," said Lizzie.
" I cannot play," answered Harry. " I
hardly know the name of cards, save the va
rious tricks the experienced players resort to."
" We'll not cheat you, Harry," retorted
Lizzie, "its only euchre ; you are not afraid,
Harry ! if you are, the fates preserve you."
"I am not afraid, Lizzie. I'm no coward.
As for cards, I have no choice for them ; to
learn and play well would require diligent
application. I don't wish to become a pupil
again," said Harry.
" Come, Harry, be a pupil of mine," said
Lizzie with earnestness.
There was a strange fascination in Lizzie,
thought Harry, as he felt himself impelled
to learn the game of euchre—to become a pu
pil of Lizzie's. The temptation was there;
he felt the tempter struggling in his mind
against the precepts he had learned in his
earliest maturity. Suffice it to say that Har
ry played the remainder of the evening.
* * * * *
Six months have rolled around, and in that
time things will have their change ; for Har
ry they had their change. Rumor has it that
Harry James plays wonderfully well; in fact,
many who know him, say he is lucky. There
he goes ; his troubled countenance and care
worn face bespeak a. change, Harry does
not resemble the same man at all, when last
I saw him at Judson's party; that open man
ly countenance, thatmodest expression is gone.
So Harry is a gambler I What a desper
ate situation ; he's a desperate player, too,
and drinks to excess when ill luck frowns
upon him. 'Tis a sorry tale—a few months
ago we saw him—we had to coax him to play,
in fact we learned him there to play, and
what a change ! We can hardly realize it;
he was once a fine young man, the idol of so
ciety, beloved by all who knew him ; and
there he goes—a gambler. I think, by his
countenance, by his careless and haggard
look, that he has lost heavily at play lately.
He has just turned the corner—he's running.
The thought flashed upon me as I saw him
hurry, that he was a fugitive from justice.—
I followed him—every moment he seemed to
quicken his pace ; now he's bounding along
with maniac speed. My God ! he's entering
the gate at the residence of Lizzie May.—
See him—he opens the door, not stopping to
ring the bell. I was on the steps after him ;
I called him by name—he turned around ;
there was a satanic expression in his counte
nan,:e ; he means no good, was my hasty
Viough firm conclusion.
-ff . .. •
„.„
.• .
A moment more and I had him in my
grasp. From his side pocket he pulls out a
revolver. I saw him as he presented it; the
rays of the setting sun were peering through
the glass sides of the hall door ; it was glis
tening in the sun. My God! he'll fire if I
don't release him! release him, and he per
haps will murder the inmates. No use to
cry help, for the door is closed—no one can
hear me. Imagine the horror that filled
me at that moment of anxious suspense.—
I did release him ; he stood by me, not
moving an inch. He bent hii head, and,
whispering, said :
" They say I'm mad ! I'm as sane as my
accusers! One thing more," and stamping
his foot vehemently, he exclaimed, " I'm a
murderer 1 I played for money ! its lost ! lost !
all's gone ! My pile grew thin—l staked it
all I lost! lost ! and as my antagonist coolly
pocketed my pile, I shot him through and
through. Oh, God! I'm a murderer I No
time for repentance ! The officers are upon
me. Tell them they'll find my body here !
One sentence more—l die by my own hand
no power on earth can keep me from it !
Look you, Miss Lizzie, I come to torture you
in my dying hour ! One year ago when
things went merry as a marriage bell, I be
came your pupil in the game of euchre ; be
fore that I abhorred the game. You seduced
me to it 1 You, by your flattering manner,
inaugurated a sad era in my life's history.—
I am now a ruined man ! an enemy in socie
ty because I'm a murderer ! Life has no
charms for me. Hope has fled—all's lost !
You, that witnessed the first lesson in my
downfall, shall witness the last act of my
life's misery ! To my parents—tell them, for
me, that I died in my sins, without a hope
of forgiveness! and tell to the world, and to
young men, especially, that the way to avoid
my fate is to avoid the shoal upon which I
was shipwrecked ! Hark ! hark !" he ex
claimed ;" I hear footseps without ! It's the
police ! They have traced me here 1"
Scarcely had he uttered these words than,
putting the revolver to his head, ho ended
his existence. A loud report was heard, and
the soul of Harry James was launched into
eternity by his own hand.
Thus ended that fearful tragedy that began
with " only a single game of euchre."
Horace Greeley, whose description of his
journeyings across the plains have so much
interested newspaper readers, gives us the
folloWing account of his observations among
our fellow citizens of Utah :
These Mormons are in the main an indus
trious, frugal, hard workinc , people. Few of
them are habitual idlers ; few live by profes
sion or pursuits that require no physical ex
ertion. They make work for but few lawyers
—I know but four among them—their differ
ences and disputes are usually settled in and
by the Church; they have no female outcasts,
few doctors, and pay no salaries totheir preach
ers—at least, the leaders say so. But a small
portion of them use Tea and Coffee. Former
ly they drank little or no Liquor ; but, since
the Army came in last year, money and whis
ky have both been more abundant, and now
they drink considerably. More than a thous
and barrels of whisky have been sold in this
city within the last year, at an average of not
less than $8 per gallon, making the total cost
to consumers over $250,000, whereof the Mor
mons have paid at least half. If they had
thrown instead $150,000 in hard cash into
the deepest part of Salt Lake, it would have
been far better for them. The appetite they
are acquiring or renewing will cling to them
after the Army and its influx of cash shall
have departed; and the saints who now drink
a little will find themselves as thirsty as their
Valley, but before they suspect that they care
anything for liquor.
As yet, I believe, they have few or no drunk
ards ; but there is nothing more deceitful than
the appetite for liquors. As yet, Utah has
not yet a single export of any kind ; the army
supplies her with cash; when that is gone,
her people will see harder times. She ought
to manufacture almost everything she con
sumes, or foreign debt will overwhelm her.—
Yet, up to this hour, her manufacturing en
ergies have been most unhappily directed.—
Some $200,000 was expended in preparations
for iron making at a place called Cedar City;
but the ore, though rich, would not flux, and
the enterprise had to be totally abandoned,
leaving the capital a dead loss. Wool and
Flax can be grown here cheaply and abun
dantly.; yet, owing to the troubles last year,
no spinning and weaving machinery has yet
been put in operation—l believe some is now
coming up from St. Louis. An attempt to
grow Cotton is likely to prove a failure, as
might have been predicted. The winters are
long and cold here for the latitude, and the
Saints must make cloth or shiver. I trust
they will soon be able to clothe themselves.
Sugar is another necessary of life which
they have had bad luck with. They. can
grow the beet very well, but it is said to yield
little or no sugar--because, it is supposed, of
an excess of alkali in the soil. The Sorghum
has not yet been turned to much account, but
it is to be. Common brown sugar sells here
at 60c. per lb.; coffee about the same ; in the
newer settlements, they are of course still
higher. All sorts of imported goods cost
twice to six or eight times their prices in the
States ; even.quack medicines (so called) and
yellow covered novels are sold at double the
prices borne on their labels or covers. Con
sider that the people came hither over a.thous
and miles mainly of desert, after reaching
the Missouri, which was many hundreds if
not thousands of miles from their former
homes—that they generally reached these
valleyspin the fall, which afforded them ex
cellent chances of starvation before they could
raise a crop—that they have . been constant
ly invested and begged or stolen from by the
Indians whose game they killed or scared
away, and who feel that they have a right to
live here so long as there are cattle or crops
to live on—that• the valleys are lofty, narrow,
and parched by intense drouth from May to
November—that implements and seeds are
scarcely to be obtained short of three month's
journey, and then at an enormous cost—that
they have had one year of virtual and costly
HUNTINGDON, PA., SEPTEMBER 21, 1859.
Life in Utah Territory.
--:-PERSEVERE.-
hostilities with the Federal Government, in
which very little could be done, and improve
ment was out of the question—and I am
amazed that so much has been well done here
in the way of building, tilling, planting trees,
&c. Of course this city is far ahead of any
rival, being the spiritual metropolis and the
earliest settled ; but I am assured that the
valley of Utah Lake is better cultivated than
this, though Provo, its county seat, is far be
hind the city, which, with its broad, regular
streets, refreshed by rivulets of bright, spark
ling, dancing water, and shaded by rows of
young but thrifty trees, mainly Locust and
Bitter Cottonwood, is already more attractive
to the eye than an average city of like size in
the States. The houses (of abode or merely
sun-dried brick) are uniformly low and gen
erally too small ; but there is seldom more
than on family to a dwelling, and rarely but
one dwelling on a lot of an acre and a quar
ter. The gardens are well filled with peach,
apple and other fruit trees, whereof the peach,
already bears profusely, and the others begin
to follow the example. Apricots and grapes
are grown, though not yet abundant ; so of
strawberries. Plums are in profusion, and
the mountain currants are large, abundant
and very good. Many of the lots are fenced
with cobble stones lain in clay mortar, which
seems to stand very well. That of Brigham
Young's garden and grounds is nine or ten
feet thick at the base, and cost some $6O per
rod. Undoubtedly this people are steadily
increasing in wealth and comfort.
Still, the average life in Utah is a hard
one. Many more day's faithful labor are re
quired to support a family here than in Kan
sas, or any of the States. The climate is se
vere and capricious—now intensely hot and
dry ; in winter cold and stormy ; and though
cattle are usually allowed to shirk for—them
selves, they are apt to resent the insult by
dying. Crickets and grasshoppers swarm in
myriads, and often devour all before them.—
Wood is scarce _and poor. Irrigation is la
borious and expensive ; as yet, it has not been
found practicable to irrigate one fourth of the
arable land at all. Ultimately, the valleys
will be generally irrigated ; but this will re
quire very costly dams and canals. Frost is
very destructive here ; Indian corn rarely es
capes it wholly, and wheat often suffers from
it. Wheat, oats, corn, barley, rye, are grown
at about equal cost per bushel—s 2 may, be
taken as their average price ; wheat is unu
sually heavy, though this year it is threaten
ed to be relatively light. I estimate that one
hundred and fifty days' faithful labor in Kan
sas will produce as large an aggregate of the
necessaries of life—food, clothing, fuel—as
three hundred just such days work in Utah.
Hence, the adults have generally a toil-worn,
anxious look, and many of them are older in
frame than in years. I ardently hope it may
not always be thus.
De Lave Lowers Himself to the Water and
Blondin takes aYight Walk,
Wednesday was another great day at Gen
esee Falls, and Niagara. De Lave's per
formances are thus described by the Roches
ter Democrat:
De Lave appeared at 4 o'clock precisely,
having strapped on his back a chair and a
salver, upon which were a lot of small cakes
which were to serve as his lunch. He imme
diately took up his pole and started out.—
When about the middle of the chasm he stop
ped and sat down. Taking the chair from
his back, he adjusted it on the rope, seated
himself in it, and composedly ate up the
cakes from the salver, which lay in his lap
during the operation. Having concluded
his meal, he threw overboard his chair and
salver, and proceeded to the west side of the
river, stopping once or twice to lie down,
stand on one foot, etc. After a delay of ten
minutes, he started again, till he got over the
brink of the falls, and then he carried out
his promise to lower himself down to the
sheet of water and dip a draught from the
flood. He tied his balance pole to the rope,
slided down and took a drink, and then re
turned to the rope above with great ease.—
The rest of the performances were of the
usual character. Many did not stay to see
the thing through.
Blondin, not to be excelled, astonished the
natives by takinc , '2• a night walk, which is thus
described by the Buffalo Courier :
Blondin dressed himself in a linen suit,
with his frock he has so often worn, armed
himself with his balancing pole, to which he
had attached some brilliant lights of various
colors, and then sending forth a rocket, which
pierced far up into the deep blue, he pro
ceeded rapidly down the rope, and was dis
tinctly visible upon either side, Unfortunate
ly, the light upon one end of the pole became
detached and fell into the river. The sight
was not so pretty as it would have been had
not this occurred. When about midway he
took a seat to rest, or perhaps get a better
view of the scene. Not satisfied with be
holding things above and around him, he fi
nally inverted himself and looked down in
the water. It was so dark, we think, he did
not see much. Standing on his head at night
on a rope over the chasm of the Niagara must
be sport ! Arising, he passed on. Soon af
ter the other light fell from his pole, and
Blondin was left in impenetrable darkness.
Above, around, beneath, all was dark.—
Nothing more was heard or seen of him until
a shout from the opposite shore announced
that he had safely crossed the flood. At a
little after, he started on his return, surroun
ded with fireworks, consisting of Roman can
dles, which gave a pleasing appearance. He
was literally enveloped in a blaze. When
about midway, he laid down his pole, and
stood up erect—inverted. Then he suspen
ded himself below the rope by the heels, and
there he remained, drumming on his chest,
until his campfires were all extinguished.—
There he was left as before, in utter dark
ness. A live Yankee, who was standing by,
said he wondered if he would " stay there
tillers." A shout on the bank announced his
safe arrival home. Thus ended M. Blondin's
night walking.
SEe'' Silent contempt is the gentleman's
way to vent his anger.
The Rival Rope Walkers
,C.
Kind Words Can Never Die."
"Rind words can never die:
Cherished and blest,
God knows how deep they lie,
Stored in the breast."
How very few of us really know the value
of kind words, or even think of the happi
ness they bring to those around us? We are
too heedless of the words we speak, too apt
to forget, in the joys and cares of our own
lives, that there are others near, weary and
suffering, to whom our kindness perhaps may
come as rays of heaven's own sunlight, bright
ening and cheering into new life their worn
out spirits. We, who are young and thought
less, just entering upon the realities of life—
who have still around us the loving tones and
soft smiles of friends—to whom the trials
and weariness of our path on earth are yet
unknown ; however dear to us may be the
gentle voices of love, however we may cher
ish the blessings of home—do not, cannot
know the full value of kind words. Those
only who have felt the want of them can know
their inestimable worth. He who has wan
dered in foreign lands, far from home and
friends ; he who has lain sick and lonely be
neath a distant sky, seeing around him only
strange faces, and hearing only unknown
tongues, can tell how more than welcome
would have been the speech of his own land,
heard in the kind, familiar tones of friend
ship.
" Kind words can never die," though long
years may have swept over the earth since
the time when they were spoken ; though the
lips that gave them utterance may have long
been hushed ; the heart from which they
flowed been long buried beneath the green
turf—yet they are not lost, their memory
still lives a cherished and blest influence from
the past.
"Kind words make happy homes."
That home alone, however high or lowly,
is blest, where love and gentleness reign; for
what are kind words hut types of these heav
en-born qualities ? "From the abundance of
the heart the mouth speaketh ;" and where
kindly thoughts fill our outward life, the out
ward life will show them forth in kind and
gentle words. They are the links in the
chain which binds together the forms that
cluster around the fireside. They are the
guardian angels at the alters of domestic
peace and happiness ; the gentle ministering
spirits that hover around the head of infant
innocence, ever ready to gladden the heart
by some mission of love ; ever active to sooth
the angry spirit of contention with the oil of
their charity. Home is not home without
them ; when kind "words are unheard in the
dwelling, and all the graces that follow their
footsteps have fled with them, then indeed is
home no longer the resting-place of the heart.
The sunlight of love has left the sky of life,
and the dark night of sorrow is brooding
overhead, starless and drear.
We need kind words all along our way on
earth ; in joy and sorrow ; alike are they wel
come at the wedding-feast, and the buried
service. They are angel messengers to earth's
weary children, "rejoicing with them that da
rejoice, and weeping with them that weep."
As the evening dew-drops coming down from
the skies, fair upon the fair young flowers,
freshening them into new life, so do the gen
tle voices of kindness come upon the human
heart. And as the little summer streams,
bubbling up in glad music, greet the coming
of the cheering sunshine, so does the grate
ful spirit spring forth to meet their touch—
Oh could we only know how much of use
fulness, lies within our power by the simple
means of love, how many we might bless
with our sympathy, we should not be so spar
ing of it.
"Oh I deem it not an idle thing,
An angry word to speak ;
The look you wear, the thoughts you bring,
A heart may heal or break."
Kind words cost us nothing ; and yet to
those around us they may be blest. There
are, in the crowded streets of our cities,
thousands of the poor and needy, the weary
and the afflicted, those with whom fortune has
dealt harshly, to whom, though we cannot
give things of great value, our sympathy and
kindness may be doubly welcome. There
are many of our brothers and sisters, lost and
fallen now, who aro travelling with us the
same green earth, who in earlier days were
as happy and as innocent as any of us, and
who even now, could they be reclaimed from
their lives of recklessness and vice, might yet
shine forth as "stars in the heaven of the re
deemed." Then let us strive to make our
lives those of love and mercy. Let kind
thoughts dwell largely in our hearts, and kind
words ever make up our speech ; that our
way through this life may be traced by the
simple crosses of charity and love rather than
by the stately pillars of pride and renown.
And let it be our constant aim to remember
and fulfill the gentle command: "Be kind
to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one
another, even as God for Christ's sake hath
forgiven you."
A SINV,PLAIt. COINOIDENCE.—We visited a
few days since a spot somewhat memorable
as having been the scene of a duel. The po
sition of the duelists about eight paces, was
marked by two trees, one of which bears the
initials of one of the party's entire name cut
into the bark; the other bears only the ini
tial of the last name of the other party. The
tree under which the party stood who was
killed, is dead, having, as we are credibly in
formed, gradually decayed from the time.—
The other tree is singularly typical of the
condition of the surviving party, who is now
an inmate of a lunatic asylum, standing, as
it does, with the lower branches full of life
and verdure, while its top is dead and leaf
less. Strange thoughts crowded our mind,
as we stood and gazed upon these unfortu
nate witnesses to an unfortunate deed.—
Georgetown Journal.
FEMALE POPULARITY. -If a woman wishes
to be a general favorite with her female ac
quaintances, she has only to permit them to
outdress her. The more intent they are on
gewgaws and decorations, the more profound
will the respect for her who totally disre
gards them. Let any one look amongst his
or her friends and see if she who is most be
loved is not one of less pretensions to fancy
than those around her.
Editor and Proprietor.
NO, 13.
The Teacher's Crown.
What will men not do to obtain a crown ?
Even to gain lower advantages of a wordly
kind, such as riches, office, fame, or rank,
they will gladly spend long years of toil, pain
and self-denial. To acquire is fortune, a man
will begin in boyhood, and serve a tedious
apprenticeship to his craft, and will then
bend all his energies, day and night, sum
mer and winter, for twenty, thirty, forty
years, if haply, at the the end of that time,
he may be rich. When the prize is not a
certain amount of wealth, not an ordinary
office of honor or emolument, but a crown—
a station the very highest that is known
among men—what will men not do to obtain
it? What labors will they not count sweet,
in order to win it ? Through what crimes,
even, will they not plunge, in order to reach
it ? Caesar, to be lord of Rome, hesitated not
to overthrow the ancient laws and liberties
of his country, and to involve unnumbered
thousands of his countrymen in carnage,
The imperial Caesar had long passed Mills
account, when another man in that wide em
pire coveted and gained a crown. The bright
immortal garland, however, that adorned his
brow, was no earthly diadem. The gems
that enriched it were souls saved from eter
nal death. Every sinner converted through
his ministry, was an additional jewel in that
bright chaplet. Every redeemed one that
now walks the streets of the New Jerusalem,
in consequence of the labors of the great
Apostle to the Gentiles, will be to him through
all eternity, a source of pure, unspeakable
joy and honor. For, says Paul himself to
his converts, " what is our hope, or joy, or
crown of rejoicing ? Are not even ye in
the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at hia
coming ?"
And what happiness can we conceive of,
as greater, what glory brighter, than to be
the means of rescuing a human soul from
eternal despair, and of placing him eternally
secure in the regions of the blessed ? We
almost envy the happiness of the man who
rescues a fellow-creature from drowning, or
fire, or from any more temporal disaster.—
What then must be the bliss in store for him,
who knows that when he shall come to tread
the heavenly plains, he will be greeted by
the presence of those who have been conver
ted and brought to that bright abode by his
faithfulness ?
Suppose a man were solemnly to devote his
whole life to the conversion of one soul ?
Suppose he were to begin in childhood a life
of studious preparation, and after long years
of preliminary study, were to give his whole
thoughts and energies, from the age of twen
ty till he were four-score, and should thereby
succeed in the conversion and salvation of
one soul, will any one say who knows the
worth of the soul, that that man has not la
bored to a good and adequate end ? that he
has not gained more, infinitely more, than
did Astor, or Girard, or Rothschild, in heap
ing up their millions ? or than did Cmsar or
Napoleon, inconquering province, and king
doms ?
The joy and crown of the apostle may be
ours. We may not have his towering abili
ties. We certainly have not his special gifts
and commission. But there probably does
not live a Christian, so moderate in talents,
so humble in position, who might not, if he
would, be the means of, making some one
else a Christian. There is 'not a disciple of
the Lord Jesus, no matter how feeble, no
matter how lowly, no matter how young, who
ought not distinctly to propose it to himself,
as an aim never to be lost sight of, that be
fore he dies, he shall be able to point to At
least one converted soul, and say, Behold,
thou art my jr - ,5 and crown of rejoicing."
The Sabbath School teacher of all Chris
tians, should set this hope steadily before
him. No one else sows the seed of the word
on such hopeful soil. In no other part of the
Master's vineyard are the returns for la.bor
so sure and so prompt. A large majority of
all who become Christians are converted be
fore they become men and women. A very
large proportion of those who are admitted to
the church, come from the Sabbath School.
It is believed that it would be without a par
allel that a teacher should labor faithfully,
consistently, persistently, in training a class
of Sabbath School scholars, and trying to
bring them to a saving knowledge of Jesus
Christ, and yet none of them, sooner or later,
be converted. We may not always live to
see it. But we serve a faithful Master, and
his blessings will follow faithful labors in his
cause.
Getting to Heaven by Way. of New Or
leans.
The Philadelphia correspondent of the New
York Dispatch gives the following :
We have a Methodist preacher here who is
a jolly wag. A few days since, a young man
who had been attached to his church and who
was about to leave for New Orleans, came to
bid his pastor farewell.
" And so you are going to that degenerated
place, New Orleans, are you ?"
" Yes, sir ; but I don't expect to be influ
enced by an extraneous, pressure of any kind,"
responded the young man, with considerable
earnestness.
" Well, I am glad to see you so confident,
I hope the Lord will guide you. But do you
know the temptations which exist there '2"
" No ; not particularly."
" Well, I do ; you'll find wanton women in
the guise of Paris, tempting the very elect ;
and rare wines and ardent drinks ; and you'll
find gay company, and night brawling, and
gambling and dissipation, and running after
the lusts of the old man Adam."
" Still, sir, I hope to combat these success
fully."
I hope you will, my dear christian broth
er," was the reply. " I hope you will and
let me give you this much for your consola
tion in case you should fall fromgrace. The
tempter is worse than the sin, and the great
er the temptation, the more merit there is
in resisting it. The man who goes to Heav
en by way of New Orleans, is sure to have
twice as high a place in eternal glory as he
who reaches Paradise through the quiet por
tals of Connecticut or Pennsylvania."
" The Rocky Mountains," says Hor
ace Greeley, "with their grand, aromatic for
ests, their glassy glades, their frequent springs,
and dancing streams . of the brightest, sweet
est water, their pure, elastic atmosphere, and
their unequalled game and fish, arc destined
to be a favorite resort to civilized man. I
never visited a region where physical life
could be more surely prolonged or fully en
joyed."
.11e—I plows, I sows, I reaps, I mows, I
gets up wood for winter, I digs, I hoes, and
taters grows, and, for what I knows, I'm in
debted to the printer. Ido suppose all knowl
edge flows, right from the printing press; so
off I goes in these ere clothes, and settles ttp
—I guess,
Mer Sanctified afflictions are like so many
artificers working on a pious man's crown to
make it moro bright and massive,