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Snlclltgtiutt Journal.
LANCASTER PENN’A.
•. 1 M .•. '
DECEMBER #B, 184 V.
/ Tlie Germans of Peimsylvauttla. ;
So deeply is the State of Pennsylvania indebted i
for her prosperity to the Gebmi* part of her citi. 1
. zens/that we feel that an article devoted to them
wilt, not be out of place in Ous meredian, where ■
they comprise nearly the entire population. The
■German character once employed the pen of the ■
. elegant and enlightened Tacitus, one of ;the first
historians ofantiquity. They evidently inherit all
the virtues ascribed by this author to their ancestors,
with- none of their vices, which Christianity has
banished from among them* These ancestors mi- ,
.-grated chiefly from the Palatinate, from Alsace
Swabia, Saxony, and Switzerland, with an admix,
tiire of .natives of every principality and dukedom
in Germany! When we reflect at this day, that the
.. stock ; of most of these bold, pioneers in the set
tlement of Pennsylvania consisted only of a few
pieces, of gold or silver coin, a chest of clothing, a
Bible, and a Psalter, and that now their descendants
_ own the' most immense possessions, we are forcibly
Btrnck with,the miraculous changes wrought in
the progress of Time by an Overruling and Divine
Hand. If, it were possible to determine theTelativc
proportion's of these sums, the contrast would form
such a monument of Human Ixhustut and Eco.v.
. omt as has seldom been witnessed in any age or
country.
The principal part of the Germans of Pennsyl
vania are Farmehs—hardy and industrious tillers'
of the soil—that most noble of all the occupations
which can engage the attention of man. More
skilful cultivators of the earth, too,' we hazard
nothing in • saying, can be found nowhere on the
face of die globe.
The Germans set a great value upon patrimonial
property. principle in human nature* 1
prevents much folly in- young people. It
moreover leads to lasting, and extensive advantages
in the,improvement of a farm; for what induce
' ment, can be stronger in a parent to plant an or
chard, to preserve forest trees, or to build a com.
modious and durable house, than the idea, that they
will be possessed by a succession of generations }
who shall inherit his blood and name.
What strikes a. traveller through our German
counties most forcibly, is their mammoth barns,
called in their own language Srhiveilzer~Scheucr. —
Indeed, it is their invariable custom, in settling a
hew tract of land,/?rrt to provide large and suitable
. accommodations for their horses and cattle, before
they expend much money in building a house for
themselves. No feature in their character speaks
so loudly in behalf of their Humanity, as this
. willingness to ' suffer discomfort themselves, rather
than impose it on the dumb and uncomplaining
beast But from this let it riot be inferred, that
their dwellings are deficient in ithe comforts of life.
The reverse is true. No class, so emphatically as
they, live u on the fat of the land*’—and none boasts
of so many and -such substantial domestic enjoy
ments.
Another fact,' which never faib to rivet the at.
tention of a stranger, is the extraordinary size and
strength of their horses. A German horse is known
in every part of the State. He seems to ‘‘feel
with Iris lord” the pleasure and the pride of good
and bountiful living. It is a well-established fact
that-the German horses of Pennsylvania perform
double the amount of labor of the New England
or Southern breed, from the fact that they are more
plentifully' fed. For the same reason their cows
yield double the quantity of milk, and of a qualily
vastly superior.
In a word, a. German farm may be distinguish
ed from the farms of citizens, by the
superior size of their barn^—the plain but com
pact construction of their dwellings—the height of
their enclosures—the extent of their orchards—the
fertility of their fields—the luxuriance of. their
meadows—the giant strength of their cattle—and
fcy & general appearance of plenty and prosperity
in all-.th&t belongs to them. *
The favorable influence of agriculture, as con- 1
ductedby the Germans in extending human hap-
is manifested by the joy they- express upon
the birth of a'child. No dread of poverty, nor dis
trust of Providence from an increasing family, de -
presses the spirits of these industrious and frugal peo
ple. Upon the birth of a son, they exult in the
gift of a ploughman ora wagoner; and upon the
birth of a daughter, they rejoice in -the addition of
a spinster or milk-maid, to their family. Happy
state_of human society! What blessings can civi
lisation confer, that can atone for the extinction of
the ancient and patriarchal pleasure of raising up
a numerous andhealthy family of children, to la
"bor for their parents, for themselves and for their
country ; and finally to partake of the knowledge
and happiness which are annexed to existence !
The joy of parents upon the birtn of a child, is the
grateful echo of creating goodness.'May the moun
tains of Pennsylvania be forever vocal with songs
of joy' upon these occasions!. They are the
infallible signs of innocence, industry, wealth and
happiness in the State,
l
The. German Mechanic, too, is a most useful
and enterprising citizen, possessing all the traitsof
character in common with the Farmer. His first
ambition, on starting into life, is to become a Free
holder, so as not to live in a rented house—and the
highest temporal delight he can enjoy springs from
his ability to declare: “This house is my own.” —
Admirable quality that, which renders him afraid
of Debt,, that prolific source of Misery, and Want,
and Crime 1
But the genius of the Germans of Pennsylvania
is not confined to Agriculture and the Mechanic
Arts. Many of them have acquired great wealth
by foreign and domestic commerce.
But another fact "which speaks louder in their
praise, than any other, is this, that they are partic
ularly attentlveto the religious education Of thelf
children, uni to the establishment and support of
the Christian Religion, For this purpose they
' make the erection of a sehoobhouse and a place of
worship the first ejects of their care, Hut they
do not stop here, They take great pains to pro,
dues In their offspring, net only Imbilt of labor, hat
■„ a lew of it, In this they submit to the Irreverei
hie sentence pronounced upon man, In such a mam
ner as to convert the wrath of Heaven Into private
: and public happiness, “51b/to (lihl oud ig'lmt
ieer*" are the first lessons they teach to thelrShih
' j i’i\>] tin? limani
i’ • ui fc 01 'ir.ivitoi! pent* \ialuolu* and ustt'sr
>:i ;_dy uli.cW! to die ui pur Jut* ji.-
L* . -Mut hirg» :y to the
"revv.iiU‘, they consiirutc t]ie w ..*atul Kiiii’v ' u»'
A- M;aiy o'l*thfemhaveU-cc:- 10
;V tlit v.-i<r>. <: o’ govevmneiit, and tVi'-v ha lunu.shed
[£.► iomft ot- out tx. -'S ; di.-»tin£
vjpwv*'
*>v w c
.
<■
haW served in the highest Executive Sod legisja
tive offices. We will be content with reference to
a'sirigle illustrious example, die revered SIMON
SNYDER, whose name has become' the very syn
onme of staling sense, ■ unflinching-; honesty, and.
far-seeing sagacity—and whose administration of
the Chief-Magistracy of the State, for a 'period of
nine ’ years, is referred to,-at the present .day, by
men of tzJl parties, as a - very model : of good gov
ernment. •*
The Germans of Pennsylvania, to their credit be
it spoken, never besiege the Government for favors
iri kbeir domestic pursuits. They are never known
to |crowd the legislative halls, clamorous for special
privileges, and rely for wealth and prosperity, not
on- acts of assembly, but on their own daily toil
and industry. They are, perhaps, the only class of
people [who "practically regard government, its ob
jects, and its functions,.in tfeysir true light.' All
thkt they desire from Government is to be let alone-
: As neighbors, they are extremely kind and
friendly. They frequently assist each other by
loans of money for a short .time, without interest..
But, to secure their confidence, it is necessary to be
punctual, as they never lend money a second time
to one who has once violated his obligation. We
have heard it remarked, that during the War of
Indcpendcnce there were very few* instances of any
of them discharging a bond, or a debt, in depre
ciated’ paper money!
These are some of the traits of character which
have raised the Germans of Pennsylvania to a degree
of moral and political elevation surpassed by no other
race of men in the world. From this proud 'spec
tacle wc may learn to prize knowledge and industry
in Agriculture, coupled with a due observance of
Christian duty, as the b&ais both of domestic happi
ness and national prosperity.
The Eloquence of Bathos^
.The following extract of a speech delivered in
the Massachusetts House of Representatives, by a
Mr. Lixcolx, whig member from Hingham, on a
resolution to pass a vote of thanks [to the brave
volunteers in Mexico, surpasses all the specimens
of eloquence, ancient or modern, that have ever
come to our notice: * -We,doubt whether the annals
of Greece or Rome, to ihay nothing of the Btump
oratory yrf our own country, can furnish a parallel
to the outpourings of Mr. Lincoln. - As the speech
was written out by the author, and published in
the whig newspaper of his own town, it may be
relied upon as genuine. i
1 Mr. Lincoln rose and said:
' Sir, I have heard that spoken aloud,, and that
vote declared in this Hall of the Representatives of
the People of this Commonwealth which I cannot
listen to in silence. 1 have no disposition, any
more than any other man in this House, to seek
occasion to pass votes of thanks to men of war,
more than to others, who have' done well, ami
more titan well, what law and order required them
to do. Neither have I any disposition to avoid
any duty devolving upon me as a member of this
House. I never should have travelled out of what
I consider my strict line of duty to be, to have
introduced any such Resolves as are upon your
table. The gentleman from Groton must answer
for that if there is any answer required.
If the wise judgment—the undazzled and unawed ; .
understanding—the Conscience based Reason of
Massachusetts are to be drowned in a chaos of
riotous feeling? and tumultuous passion,, and, ■ her
former mastersjand pilots are to sleep the slumber
of death, and,' must be drawn and sides must
be taken, I take sides against her tingling nerves
—her spleeny btomach—her Phrenological organ
of Vanity, and; in justice to men I known and re
spect,l must add her sympathising, suffering breast
bleeding', perhaps, for herself, bleeding, perhaps; for
others, and, I go for her quiet, orderly, peace, law
and justice loving "Phrenological organ of Con
scientiousness, and, I go for her Mighty Heart,,
bearing for home and fireside, for mother and
sister, for wife' and for Constitution and
Country, and, I go also for the boiling red-hot
blood of her right arm when it strikes for the past'
—for the Present and for Future Protection.
Still further, if the vote of yesterday should be
rescinded and the question upon the passage of
those resolves should come fairly before the House
upon their passage, and it is crowded and pressed
with determined, settled purpose, and with'force to
endanger,- so that men will consider it their duty to
defend what they liold dear and necessary for pro
tection, and to strike for safety, to those whom in
manliness, they are bound to defend,, there will be
fiercer battles/ought in this Hall, than were fought
in Mexico. ” " *
And, if Massachusetts’ firm ’ judgment—solid
understanding—friendly heart -of sympathy *and
God-based reason are cloven down, in this disas
trous bittle-field, and when .the heat and dust of the
conflict are over, glittering, polished beams of night
reflected from the Milky Way of Heaven, and
from the luminous fogs of sea-breeding storms and
the smoke of rose-wood shavings kindled over the
ashes of Martin Luther, borne by a cold, isolated
breeze of sorrow over a cheerless sea, are suffered,
with their hazy mists to dim the Pilgrim and
Patriot-burnished brightness of the. Coat of Arms
of Massachusetts, the wails of woe and lamentation
which will hereafter arise from her
cities, from the villages clustering 1 around her sea
girt rocks to the remotest hamlet on her barrier
hills, will drown all sympathy for suffering,and all
cries ,o£ agony from the battle-fields of Mexico and
from -the counfry of the Aztecs.
A correspondent of the Germantown, Telegraph
has favored that paper with the following charac
teristic anecdote of the renowned orator of Roanoke:
Randolph, disgusted at not being able to,havehis
own way at Washington, determined to visit “the
serfs-and slaves of Europe”—-his- own expression.
But-he found that even there it was not possible, on
all occasions to have his own way} During. this vol
untary exile he visited London of course, where he
became acquainted with Lord D», a noted son of
the old Dominion, who moved in the first classes in
Europe. His Lordship invited Mr. R. to breakfast
with him; the-invitation was accepted; and taking
it for granted that the customs.of London were the
same as in Virginia, or ought to fit, he knocked at>
the door of,his. lordship’s residence, at,what he
thought a proper 1 hour for breakfast. After some
delay,-the door-Was opened by the porter, who ex
hibited all the signs of having been aroused'from a
sound sleep. He inquired Mr. R’s business. ~
“ I am come to breakfast with his Lordship.”
The man in livery Btared at him with unreigned
astonishment, as he replied : 1
“His Lordship has not been two hours in bed;
but he told me before retiring, that he expected i a
gentleman to breakfast —the usual hour 1 ts 2
Randolph went,away in disgust. Next day Lord.
D,; calletLon his friend to apologise for the mistake
that had occurred. On his announcement by the
servant, he heard a loud squeaking voice etclalm i
“ fell his d*“d Lordship Lam not at homa<”^v
During our residence. itt Washington, we hktl
related to us many laughable' anecdotes of mW*
iioi,en, whieh we dp not reeelleet to have seen k
print. One of the best Is thefollowing i \
On one occasion there were present at his tabfe,
eiilefilustke Marsiui.& andieurfAwei of Oar.
flline. The topic! of conversation was' the “ old
dine of Virginia gentlemen," whieh brought many
illustrious names on the tapis. lUnoehm preset
ved a long silence, but finally defined bis position
■thus? said hrt. attytt’rtf thfr 1 Ibiit’ bf
uociejU. Vi*. ! gentlemen barely /. .*•* survive."
};• Th^rc i ’ , -|*oiirti.. t , .A the Cbtef-Julitir ‘sit* ivne. 1 '
:j--TUtr»*." pointing V'.i, U»r : \ imo. >sr. M
A Vug ,uiise J.cW
UH' Uiu. ;SOt SO, howtn
■ -Am riuf-diilhe finally, t- ‘.ming his attenua
te! iVrlffton a: uh ft.ortiu Uack:\ • :;>hn.
• who
+ ifi* thWii
Vi ' ' !,<■ rr<T•'Ti-'-f'CJJ;-
'ir ' -,t «
'*+'"•** J* ■> !If * *' --' ‘-3*
,tT ' 1 : - yjZ^:- 1 '
CITY
Randolph-iana.
•uy.l, ever. on' mcanwhilf
mUliSl to conclude
granted i\-.M
i. j . ''~C- t'
'*_*•;'-**. : s i~«. *;&
tv.'
J
“ THAT COUNTRY IS THE MOST HEtOSPEROUS, RTItiERE LABOR COMMANDS THE GREATEBT REWARD.”— BuCHAKAIf.
OF LANCASTER,
Mr. Budianan on tlie War,
"Yfe take pleasure in laying before our .readers
the admirable letter sent by Hon. James Bcchaxax
to the great war meeting held on the l>Qth instant
in Philadelphia. It is marked by all the .clearness
and cogency which distinguish the .productions of
this able Statesman, and places the history of the
war in -so striking a-light that, no unbiased reader
can fail, we think,' to be convinced by its
statements. The letter was received with raptu
rous applause by the meeting; and .will doubtless
be greeted with equal commendation by our read-,
ers: . ..’ !; ‘
. WASHizroTorr, Dec. 17, 1847. -
Gfent&mrrt;-—I have been honored by the receipt
of your.kind invitation,.“in behalf of the Commit-:
tee of Arrangements of the Democracy of the. City
and County,of Philadelphia,” to attend “at their
mass , meeting, to be held at the Museuin : oh Satur
day next, in.support of the policy of die country,
and course of the National Administration' in die
vigorous , prosecution to an honorable peace, of the
present war with Mexico.”
I deeply regret that my pressing public duties
here, especially since the indisposition of the Secre-:
tary of the Treasury, render it impossible that I
should be present at your meeting. Indeed, I might
add, that I have been compelled of late almost en
tirely to forego the privilege of corresponding with
my most valued private friends. My answer to
your kind ihvitation must therefore be compara
tively brief.
, The facta already before the world conclusively
prove, that the war with Mexico, in which our
country has been involved, was forced upon us after
\vc had exhausted every honorable expedient to
preserve peace. If any corroboration of these facts
had been wanting it would be supplied by the let
ter of Ex-president Herrera, dated on the 2 sth of Au
gust last, in answer to a note from the Mexican
Minister of-Foreign Affairs, offering him, by'djftc
tion of Gen. Santa Anna, the a
Commissioner to treat for peace, with the Com
missioner of the United States. In this answer,
Gen. Herrera distinctly declares, that his Govern
ment had been subverted by Geh. Paredes, solely
because he had consented 'to receive our Minister,
Mr. Slidell. “For no other act, (to use Gen. Her
rera's own expressive language,)' than showing
that there would be no obstacle to his [Mr. Sli
dell's] presenting himself, and having his proposi
tions heard, irly administration was calumniated in
the most atrocious mariner—for this act alone,- the
revolution which deplaced me from , the command
was set on foot.”
Mexico had for many years endured the very
worst Government, on the face of the earth. Un
der the name of a Republic, it was in fact an ever
changing despotism; but without either the'dispo
sition 6r the power to protect the rights of peace
able and well disposed citizens.
One military usurper arose after another in rapid
succession, and these were alternately elevated and
deposed by an army consisting of nearly as many
officers as privates, which disposed of the Supreme
; power as boldly .and unscrupulously as did the
: Pretorian Guards of the Empire of Ancient Rome.
The passions of this army had been artfully in
flamed against the United States. They clamored
for war against our country, and this not merely
on account of the territory between the Rio Grande
and the Nueces, but for the whole of the sovereign
State of Texas, up to the Sabine. -
No sooner was it known that the Mexican Gov
ernment had agreed to receive our Minister, Air.
Slideli r ,who was empowered to adjust all existing
difficulties, than Gen. Paredes, with his whole ar
my stationed at San Luis de Potosi; “pronounced”-
against Gen. Herrera. Paredes marched in tri
umph to the Capital, expelled Herrera from the
Presidency, and usurped the Supreme power.—
From this moment, war with the United States be
. came inevitable.
Indeed, to wage and prosecute such a war was
the very condition on which Paredes had succeeded
in usurping the Government of his country.
- Heaven has smiled upon the just cause; and the
character of our country has been illustrated by a
rapid succession of brilliant and astonishing -victo
ries. The exploits of our army have elevated our
National character, and shed a lustre upon r our
name throughout the civilized world. In achiev
ing these victories, the blood of many of our- best
and most patriotic citizens has been shed in the
cause of their country. • ’ In justice to their memory
we can never retire with honor from the fields
where they have fallen, without indemnity for the
past, and security for the future.. If we'shoiild do
this, then their Wood will have been shed in vain.
To withdraw otir troops at the present moment,
would be to convert the glory which' we have ac
quired iri a just and necessary waf, into .National
disgrace and dishonor.
The .war has not been prosecuted for conquest.
A.t every stage of- its progress, we have been Wil
ling to conclude a just and honorable peace. Indeed,
we can never wage a war for conquest,—in the
popularsense ofthat.term. Our free institutions for
bid that we should subject nations to our arbitrary
sway. If they come within our power, we-must
bestow upon them the same blessings of liberty
and law, which we ourselves enjoy. Should they
be annexed to the Union,- as in the case of Texas,
they must* participate in the freest and best Gov
ernment upon earth—on equal terms with ourselves.
The Capital of Mexico is now the Head-Quarters
of our conquering army, and yet such is the genius
of our free institutions, that for the first, time its
peaceful and well-disposed citizens * enjoy security
in.their private rights, and the. advantage of a just
and firm Government. .’From all that can be
learned, they appreciate our protection at its prop
er value, and dread no tiring so much as the with
drawal of our army. They know, this would be.
the signal for renewed and fierce dissensions among
their military leaders, in which the Mexican peo
ple would become the victims. In -this'wretched
condition of affairs, justice to them and to ourselves
may require that -we should protect them "in estab
lishing upon ar.permanent a Republican Gov
ernment—able and willing to conclude, and main
tain an equitable Treaty of Peace with the United-
States. After every effort to obtain such a Treaty
.should finally fail in accomplishing the object, and
should the military factions in Mexico- stiU persist
in. waging upon us a fruitless war, then we must
fulfil the destiny which Providence may have in
store for both countries.
* In any event, we owe it to the glories of the past,
to frie duties of the' present, and the hopes of the
fpfrire f never to falter in the -rigorous prosecution
of this war, until we shall have secured'a just, and
honorable peace. The people of the United ;States
will act upon this ’ determination, as surely* asrthat
Indomitable perseverance in a righteous causeriSa
characteristic of our race. ->
Yours, very resectfully, •
JAMES BUCHANAN.
To J. C: Vandyke, A. Miller, J. F. Bellsterling, G.
G. Westcott. ,
The Divine Philosophy op Misfortunes,—
What a cold, cast-iron, selfish world this would be,
if flesh and blood were heir to no misfortunes! if
we had not th% poor with us always! if there were
none to help, to pity, to love! if there were ho
perils by flood, fire, and field! ho pestilence. that
walked in darkness, nbr destroyer that wasteth at
noon day? Were it not for these calamities and
misfortunes incident to us ail. Individually and cob
leetlvely, the great heart of humanity would stag,
tiate like the atmosphere without eleetrleity, or a
lake or fresh water, without Inlet, outlet, and mtk
tlon. The hescqualltles of human nature would
-never see the light, sympathy would never expand
heyend self, and society would become jene vast,'
arid,: dewless expanse of selfishness,
Writ* it or thV Hrar great can.
prehenslve tmttofiuen in titters of llvfng.ll|ht
on every orr-n- i.lsTrjry,' jt- lTuniui,
ll&pphn.-bp hiisn.r. . vilml lY^lom; free
dom, ijuiin but Unu. ,V) rl uf, n tg bur kn.bu ledgr';
and neither nmlc-m,’ - r virnu-, tor kNi/aUd to ,\ lm*a
any rigor or initnoj ' hope. *pt lu the princi
ple'! of the Christian nmh, arid 1 ffa» sanctions of
ihe Christian religion
IW t* Christian* mu.st ccuiw.s : it.be.uk*. the j
'olive acd. the vin&—which, sr-.b« t the n»o?c a*nd l
best froit'firot like the and . - elm. which.|
•dutU make noise in .the world
TUESDAY
Select
WEEP NOT FOR; HER. '
BY BEV. O. W..BEVHUJSE. .
Weep not for her! Her span was like the sky,. -i
Whose thousand stars slunebeautiful and bright:
Like flo were, that know not what.it is itodie j
Like long-linked *shadeless months of polar light;
Like music floating o’er a wavele'ss like, 1 '
While echo answers from the flowery brake :
Weep not for her! ,
Weep not for her! She died in early youth,
- Ere hope had. lost its rich romantic hues;
When human seemed the homes of truth,
• • And earth still gleamed with] beauty’s radiant
dews. \ . *
Her summer prime waned not to days that freeze;
Her wine'of life was run not to the lees:
Weep not £or*her'!
Weep not for her! By fleet or alow decay,
It never grieved herbosom’a core to' mark
The playmates of her.childhood,wear away,
Her prospects -wither, or her hopes £row dark;
Translated by her God; with spirit shriven, [ven.
She passed, as ’twere in smiles, from earth to hea-
Weep not-for her!
Weep not for her!. It was not her’s to feel
The miseries that corrode amassing years,
’Gainst dreams of baflled bliss the heart to steel,
To wander sad down age’s vale of tears,
As whirl the wither’d leaves from friendship’s tree,
And on earth’s wintry world alone to be: 1
Weep not for her!
Weep not for her! She is an angel now,
And treads th‘e sapphire doors of paradise;
All darkness wiped from her refulgent brow,
. Sin, sorrow, suffering, banished from her eyes;
Victorious over death, to her appear
The vista’d joys of heaven’s eternal year:
Weep not for her!'|
Weep not for her! Her memory is the shrine
Of pleasant thoughts, soft as the scent offlowers,
Calm*as on windless eve the sun’s decline,
Sweet as the song, of birds among the bowers,
Rich as the rainbow, with its hues of light,
Pure as the moonshine of an autumn’s night:
Weep not for her! ..
Weep not for her! There is no cause for wo;
But rather nerve the.spirit, that .it walk
Unshrinking o’er the thorny paths bolow, .
And from earth’s low defilements keep thee back
So, when a few fleet severing years have flown,
She’ll meet thee at heaven’s gate, and lead thee on!
Weep not for her !J
“NOW OR NEVER.”
Now or never! now or never!
Let the maxim ne’er depart,
’Tis the watchword that forever
Should inspire each manly heart;
For, ifjustice must be rendered,
On the wrong that’s done to thee,
That no malice be engendered,
“ Now or never!” let it be.-
Now or never! why to-morrow,
If the deed be good to-day?
There may an age of sorrow
In one hour that’s thrown away
It is better to be doing,
For the future who may see?
And delay may lead to ruin—
ft Now or never!” let it be.
Now or never! now or never!
When grim poverty appears,
Do the best of your endeavor
. To assuage the mourner’s tears ;
For a time may come, thy measures
May be meted out to thee,
Would ye give from out your treasures?
“ Now or never!” let it be.
A MITE FOR THE POOR.
Think of the wretched room,
Of the embers burning low—
Think of the scaiity garb,
Of the child of want and woe.
Ye whose bright cup of! life
With wealth is running o'er,
Think of your brother man, .
Relieve him from your storfe.
If the widow’s humble smile
Received the Saviour’s praise,
Shall not your gifts be ble3t
In these our latter days 1
Aye! every deed of love !
Is a bright and sparkling gem,
To be-wreathed by angel hands
In our heavenly diadem..
SONG FOR YOUNG LADIES.
And do you really want, mamma,
To know my lover’s name 7
It is too bad of. you* mamma,
Indeed it’s quite a shame.
His name begins with W,
The second letter’s A;
The next to that is L, mamma,
And then, mamma, comes K.
And after K comes E, mamma,
There is yet one letter; well,
Letter the last is R, mamma,
That’s all I have to tell.
A Scriptural View or Soldiers.-— lt is ex
tremely remarkable, and well worthy of our atten
tion, that among all the various characters we meet
with in the New Testament, there are few repre-
Bented_ in a more amiable' light, or spoken of in
stronger terms of approbation, than' those of cer
tain military men. it wasof a centurion, a mili
tary officer, whose servant l was cured of palsy by
the author of our religion, that he said, I have not
found so great faith; no, not in Israel. It was
another centurion, who, at our Saviour’s -crucifix- •
ionj.ga.ve -that voluntary* honest, and unprejudiced 1
testimony in his favor: Truly, this was the son of
God ; . ‘ It was a centurion twho generously preserv
ed the life of StiJP a hl* when a proposition was
made to. destroy him after his Bhipwreck on the
Island of Melita. It was a centurion to whom St.
Peter was sent by the express appointment of
God, to make him the first convert among the
Gentiles) a disUactlon of. which he seemed in eve*
ry respect worthy, belugas we are told, a just and
devout man, one that feared God with all his house,
that gaye mueh alms to the people, and prayed to
God always. ' ,
When we see men, bred .up in arms, repeatedly,
spoken of in Serlpture ; in s'ueh terms of epmmeh
datlen as these, we are authorised to eonetade thati
the profession they are engaged in, is Hot, 1 as some
mistaken Shristians profess to think, an unlawfhl
ene< ©ri'tho contrary, U seems to he studiously
plated by ,the saered writers in a fevejable and an
honorable light* and in this light it always has’
been, ami always ought to.be eensidered. lie who
V.‘H r Uk*-B • occupation ■: «?nt |nU’ ;i:id yr«M
ila- . *, for the purpose of si. and
prot- Uifl country, ia a »-• valuable arid ion* j
pQoU },: ‘’.member of Bocii*t| • tnd if ho mndricu j
himaei; with valor, fidelity', nd humanity., and j
amidst horrors of war I c .tivalus the gentle j
maimers tftpeare, arid tbejv..mes of a holy life, ;
lift most - I'&y deserves,umi assuredly will receive.!
admiration. 1 and- fhe-' applanse- oT I
hi- -jriteful cV-t:,Li >» and, ;W,iat 1* of still .greats, j
imp™ 1..-! --orohatlj.iiU/' >u«
dece;
ER m
The Thrilling Sketch.
BTipßSfi.
She was'a beautiful girl "when T first! saw her.
She was ufonding ap at hie -sjoe of her. lover at
tVrt> marriage altar. She* was.dighfly Jjale—yet
ever and anon, as the ceremony'proceeded, afemt
tinge of'crimson crossed her beautiful cheek, like
the reflection of :a simset ofcloudupon the dear
waters of a quiet lake. Her lover, as he clasped:
her hand within, his own, gazed on her a few mo*,
ments with unmingled admiration, and, warm and
eloquent blobd shadowed at intervals his: manly
forehead and melted in beauty on his lips. '
And they gave themselves to one another in the
presence of Heaven, and everjr heart blessed them,
as they went their way rejoicing in their love.
Years passed on and 1 again , saw those lovers.
They were seated together where the light of sun*
set stole through the half-closed crimson curtains,
lending a richer tint to the delicate carpeting and
the' exquisite • embellishment of the rich and gor-'
geous apartment. Time had slightly changed them
in outward appearance.- The girlish buoyancy of
the one had indeed given; place to the grace of
perfect womanhood, and her lips were somewhat
paler, and a faint line of care was slightly percepti
ble oh her brow. Her husbands brow, too, was
marked somewhat more deeply than his age might
warrant; anxiety, and ambition, and. pride, had
grown over it and left their traces upon it; a silver
hue had mingled with the dark in his hair, which
had become thin around his temples, alniost to
baldness. He was reading on his splendid ottoman
with- his face half hidden by his hand, as if he feared
that the deep and troubled thoughts which oppres
sed him were visible upon his features.
Edward, you are ill to-night,” said his wife in
a low, sweet, half inquiring voice, as she laid her
hand upon Ids own.
Indifference from those wc love is terrible to the
sensitive bosom. It is as if the sun of heaven re-*
fused its wonted cheerfulness, and glared upon us
;with a cold, dim and forbidden glance.. It is
dreadful to feel that the only being of our love re
fuses to ask our sympathy—that he broods over
the feelings which he scohis or fears to reveal—
dreadful to watch the convulsive and the gloomy
brow, the indefinable shadows of hidden emotion,
the involuntary sight of sorrow in which we are
forbidden to participate, and whose character we
cannot know. The wife essayed once more.
“ Edward,” bhe said slowly, mildly and afieetion
ately, “ the time has been when you were willing
to confide your secret joys and sorrows to one who
has never, I trust, betrayed your confidence! Why
then, rayj dear Edward, is 'this cruel reserve 1 You
are troubled, arid yet refuse to tell me the cause.”
Something' of returning tenderness softened for
an insfant the cold severity of the husband's fea
tures, but it passed away, and a bitter, smile -was
his only reply.
Time passed on and the twain was separated
from each other, The husband sat gloomy and
alone in the damp cell of a dungeon. He had fol
lowed ambition as a God, and had failed in a high
career. He had mingled with men whom Ms
heart loathed, he had sought out the fierce and
wronged spirits of the land, and had breathed into
them the madness of revenge. He had”drawn his
sword against his country; he had fanned rebellion
to a flame, and it had been quenched in human
blood. He had fallen, miserably fallen, and was
doomed to die the death of a traitor.
The door of the dungeon opened and a light
form entered and threw herself into his arms. The
softest light of sunset fell upon the pale brow and
wasted cheek of his once beautiful wife.
“ Edward, my dear Edward," she said, “ I have
come to save you; I have reached you after a
thousand difficulties, and, I thank God, my purpose
is nearly executed.”
Misfortune had softened the proud heart of man
hood, and as the husband pressed his pale wife to
his bosom, a tear trembled on his eyedash.
I have not deserved this kindness,” he mur-
mured, in the choked tones of agony.
“ Edward,” said his wife, in an earnest but faint,
and low voice, which indicated extreme and fearful
debility, “we have not a moment to lose. 'By an
exchange of garments you will be able to pass out
unnoticed. Haste or we may be too late. Fear
nothing for me. lam a woman, and they will not
injure me for my efforts in behalf of a husband
dearer than life itself”
“Margaret,” said the"husband, “you look sadly
ill. You cannot breathe the air of this dreadful
cell”. * ■
“Oh, speak not to' me, my dearest Edward,” said
the devoted woman, “I can endure anything for
your sake. Haste, Edward, aU will be well,”, and
she aided with a trembling hand *to disguise the
proud form of her husband in female garb.
“Farewell, my love, my preserver,” whispered
the husband in- the ear of die disguised wife, as the
officer 'sternly reminded the supposed lady, that the
time alloted to her visit had expired.
“Farewell! we shall not meet again,” responded
the wife; and the husband passed out unsuspected
and escaped the enemies of his life.-
They did meet again: the wife and husband;
but only as the dead may meet, in the awful com
runnings ;of another world. Affection had borne
up her exhausted spirit until the last great purposes
of her exertions were accomplished in the safety of
her husband —and when the bell tolled on the mor
row, and the prisoners cell was opened, the guanis
found, wrapped in the habiliments of their destined
victim, the pale but beautiful corpse of the devoted
Wife.
The Bible. —How comes it that this.little vol
ume, composed by, humble men in a rude age,
when art and science were but in their childhood,
has exerted more influence on the human mind and
on the social system, than all other books put to
gether? Whence comes it that this book has
achieved such marvellous changes in the opinions
of mankind^—has banished idol-worship—has
abolished infanticide—has put down polygamy and
divorce—exalted the condition of woman—raised
the standard of public moraLity—created lor tami
lies that blessed thing, a Christian
caused its other triumph, by causing beneyolent
institutions, open and expansive, to spring up as
with the wand of enchantment? What sort of a
book is this, that even • the winds and waVes; of
human, passion obey it? What other engine of
social improvement has operated so long, and yet
lost none of .its virtue? bince it appeared, many
boasted plans of amelioration have been tried and
failed; many codes of Jurisprudence have arisen,
and run their course, and expired. Empire after
empire has been launched on the tide of time, and.
gone down, leaving no trace on the waters. But
this book is still going about doing good—leavening
society with its holy principles—cheering the sor
rowful with its consolations—strengthening ’ the
tempted—encouraging the penitent—calming the
troubled spirit-i-and smoothing the pillow of death.
Can such a book be the offspring of human genius?
Does not the vastness of its effects demonstrate the
excellency of the power to be of God?— Dr. McCul
lough.
Goon Feelixgs axd Goon Actioxb.— “ We once
heard, a man mnch praised for his good, feelings.
Every body joined and said the man was possessed
of excellent feelings.
• ‘What has he done?’asked an old genius.
! ‘Oh 1 in every thing he is a man of fine benevo
lent feelings; was the reply.
’ ‘What has he done?’ cned the old fellow again.
By this time the company thought it necessary
to shew seme of their favorite's doings. They
began to east about in their minds, hut the old
man still shouted, ‘What has he done?’ They
owned that they: could not name, any thing in pah
tieuiar.
- *Yet; answered the cynic, ‘you say that the man
has good feelings! fine, benevolent feelings, Now
gentlemen, let me tell you that there-arepeople in
this world who get a good name limply on aeeount
of their feelings; You can't m one generous ae>
lion they ever perfermed.in pair lives/hut they
can look and talk most henyvelemly, I knows
man in this town.that' you .weullalL,§BU,& surly,
Vdngb, imuiniubti* maii. and m mot*
;«•!.> of kindise** man ul! of yfouait fogaitieh. Vpii;
| nniy jndg* jiffijiJ-' '■> witti : >n» by
; judgv Im-i *; ,r i by thm * ;
lU.** : ;1 irs»t. I conim» i.v ■ , Moulhito thahanJs of '
Goa, i«y creator, hoping. \
lhr«ugh;the tiKfUt of .Tesua' Christ my. Savior, j
<0 be made partaker of life everlasting; and ,'iayj
? h-.v.‘j t*>;the, if «* made —K*ira^ t
psisl
kjT* V
■pu&i
5y .;sln-'>-.
1847.
Tbelittle Hatcb^arL
A CBXXBTICAS «TOKT, BT THK DAXIBII *OKT,
BXBSOX. : jflff
\ It wasso'Terriblycold,—it snowed, ahd tiiem.'
to be dark - it was also the last
n)ngin the year,—-NewTears Eve.- >On the IW&>
dark fypninga tittlegirl wait inta die stxeeS
withbarehead and naked feet It is true, she had
shoes oq. when she went from home,/ but of what
use were they! ' They werevery large:shoes,’ her
mother had last worn them, they were too large;
and die little one lost them in hurrying Over: the
street as two carriages passed quickly. by.. Ope
shoe was not to be found and the other a boy ran a
'way with, saying that he could use. it'for a cradle
when children himself The little girl how
went on her small naked feet, which were red and
blue with cofd,—she carried a number of matches
in an old apron, and held one bundle in her hand?
Np one had bought of her die whole day, no one
had given her a farthing. Poor thingl she jvm
hungry and benumbed with cold and looked so
[downcast! —The snow-flakes fell on her yellow hair,,
which curled so prettily round her neck, but'
did riotheed that
The lights shone out from all tfre window’s, and
there was such a delicious smell of roast beef in the
streets,—it was New Years Eve, and she thought
that .....
She sat down in a corner between two houses—
the one stood a little more forward in the street
than die other,—and drew her legs up under her
to warm herself, but she was still colder, and she
durst not go home: she had not soldi any matches
or got a single farming! Her father would beat
her, —and it was I also cold at home, they had only
the roof directly over them, and there the wind
whistled in, although straw and rags were stuffed
in the largest crevices.
< Her little .hands were almost benumbed with
cold. Ah! a little match might do some good,
durst she only draw one out of the bundle, strike it
6n the wall, and warm her Angers. She drew ouc ■
out ritch / how it burnt! it was. a warm clear
flame like that of a single candle, when she held
her hand round it, —it was a strange light!
The little girl thought she sat by a large iron
stove withbrass balls on the top; the fire burned
so nicely and warmed so well! ’ Nay, what was
that 1 The little girl stretched out her feet to warm,
them, too; when theflame wfentout, the stovevah
ished—she sat with a stump of the burnt match in
her hand. Another was struck, it burnt, if shone ;j
and where the light fell on the wall it became as
transparent as crape; she looked directly into the
room, where the roasted goose stuffed with apples
and prunes steamed sh charmingly on the table
which was laid out, and covered with a shining
white cloth and porcelain service. Whatwas still,
more splendid, the goose sprung off the dish and
waddled along the floor with knife 1 and fork in: its
back; it came directly up to the poor girk Then
the match went out and there was only the thick
cold to be seen.
She struck another match. Then she sat under
the most charming Christmas tree, —it was still
'larger and more ornamental than that she hod
Been through.the glass door of the rich merchants
the last Christmas: a thousand candles burrit on
the green branches; and mdtley[pictures, like those
which ornament the shop windows, looked down
upon; her. ' The little girl lifted up both her hands
—then the match was extinguished,—the many
Christmas candles rose higher and Higher; ehe saw
that they were bright stars,—one of them fell and
made a fiery stripe in the sky. “Now one dies! 5 ’
said the poor girl, for old grandmother, who alone
had been kind to her, but who was now dead, had
told her that when a star falls, a soul goes up to
God!
She again strnck a match against the wall, it
shone all around, and her old grandmother stood in
the lustre, so shining, so mild and blissful. “Grand*
mother!” exclaimed the little girl, “oh, take me
■with you! I know you will be gone away when
the match goes out,—-like the warm stove, the de
licious roast goose, and the delightful Christmas
tree !'*—and she struck in haste the whole remain
der of the matches that was in the bundle, —she
would not lose 6ight of grandmother, and the
matches shone with such brilliancy. that it was
clearer than in broad daylight Grandmother had
never before looked so pretty, so great; she lifted
die poor little girl up in her arms, and they flew so
high, so high, in splendor and joy, there was no
cold, no hunger; no anxiety,—they were with God.
But the little girl sat in - the comer of the house,
in the cold morning hour, with red cheeks, and
with a smile round her mouth,—dead—frozen to
death, die last'Evening of the old year.
New Year's morning rose over the little corpse
as it sat with die matches, of which a bundle was
burnt She had been trying to warm herself, said
they! But no one knew what beautiful things she
had seen, —in what splendor and gladness she had
entered with her old grandmother into New- Year's
Joys.
Straxgk Astipathies.— Our antipathies and
sympathies are most unaccountable manifestations
of our nervous impressionability affecting our judg
ment, and uncontrollable by will or reason. Cer
tain antipathies seem to depend upon a peculiarity
of the senses. The horror inspired by the. odour
of certain flowers may be referred to I this cause—
an antipathy so powerful as to. realize the poetic
allusion, to ■
“ Die of a rose in aromatic pain.”
For Amatus Lusitanus relates the case of a monk
who fainted when he beheld a rose,-and never quit
ted his cell while that flower was blooming. Orfila
(a less questionable authority) gives the account of
the painter Vincent, who was seized with violent ver
tigo and swooned, when there were roses in the room.
Valtain gives the history of an officer who was
thrown into convulsions and lost his senses by
having pinks in his chamber. Orfila also relates
the instance of a lady, forty-six years of age, of a
hale constitution, who could never be present when
a decoction of linseed was preparing, without being
troubled in the course of a few minutes with
general swelling of the face, followed by fainting
and a loss of the intellectual faculties, which symp
toms continued for four-and-twenty hours. Mon
taigne on this subject, that there were
men who dreaded an apple more than a cannon-ball.
Zimmerman tells us of a lady who could not en
dure the feeling of .silk and satin, and shuddered
when touching:the velvety skin of a peach; other
ladies cannot bear the feel of fur. Boyle records a
case of a man who experienced p natural abhor
rence of honey; a young man ifivariably fainted
when the servant swept his room. Hippocrates
mentions one Nicanorj who swooned whenever he
beard a flute, and Shakespeare has alluded to the
bagpipe.' -Boyle fell into a cyncope when he heard
the splashing of water; Scallger turned pale at the
sight of.water-presses; Erasmus experienced febrile
symptoms when smelling fish* the Duke d'Epernon
swooned on-.beholding a leveret; although a hare
did not produce the rame effect * Tycho 1 Brahe
fainted at the sight of a fox; Henry IEL, of France,
at that of a cat; and Marshall.d'Albret at a pig.
The Horror that whole families entertain of cheese
is well known.— Mind and Mai Ur.
Tax Dimixxcz betweexthx words Hard-,
sokz, PnzTTt, ard Bx AtrmtfL.*—lt is the fate of
these words, when applied to the female sex, to be
used indiscriminately one for the other, and yet, at
the same time, no three words can be more differ
ent ■
By a handtome woman we understand one, that
is tall, (graceful and well shaped, with a regular
disposition of features!- by a pretty, we mean due,
that is delicately made, and whose features are so
formed, as to please t by a a union of both.
A lady may be hatidtmnt and not pretty, pretty and
nettatuHome/ but to be 6wW(/b/, she must be both
pretty and hanibmti
Many a kadiamr woman has a ferblddlngeoun«
tenanee. ■
it hu beeA the mlafcrtune of many a putty wo
mg|) | {g oF§6k@di .■ *j s ~; ~.-
~ Awawf(Afwoman, ia, new*a*!aya, very rare to PAUSB firPßeTi
b« met with. . „ . . Thii I»W| they i»yi |fs»t,‘{j*taM'««iialn l si9nnefltiV !
• PMhm, «nta an -Mm «f ilmplitlty | Am* Th»i taiua mt niiuinniduae mti i ’.r
mnm.9tnobilityi, bantu,ot-miimy, ' , . £ j/fflSsriS^aaS' fttafriiuni
tie&t/ef or kmutow; tb# theg&erdewM, by Uw 411 my ffbjreWttf « /, t>> , ,
V’rtfi, Rf reprevjn'ed ua no, in other «hine», >. J-C-/" 7’ r "r-'Tw/r-..; .. . -
we-giy, s .beautiful palace; a Aomiscw lwusuj * ; EffWW ndnnr»W*'.i(i'Tb«. wmplitity,, A l' (he
pmity coiwffM , ..Evangriieui tflrrnwiitJiiifc- ioj«wio»ty '<fc)k
* oNm* eurMty; W)em!M 4lfl Jesu , <
ifc.tiiiemc wdman, of admiration r.aiul u/.i-dfv one _ , . t
jofiovo. ■ .■ ; -■ he-jurtaea. Theywyttfffcfeffwggjgß
When applied » dtheg.ilungg; l «»blf; ; »«6e?tjort *.iliav 11 Wswait^MSSK
i ~ 1"
sir
Calhoun and Beiiton.
; i Those who takOno part in politics, or\vho look
oii the two opposing parties ar upon two; sides of a
pyramid. j<onectirig leach’ other's leanirigs, and
holing the atrengthofthe country betweenthem—
aife still interested: scwnetitaes to know the shape in
Vhich die coraer-etonefare hewn—-the grainand
Sk ftom natinfe eminent men. are
>,to| their iellowsl The two great 1 Southern
Calhoun and Benton, .figuringi&i strong
Senate,'and, in arnemorahjan
'icord anychahce approach of puysj to
\ of ja?star, we put inlk onffie im*
"’Si.of these two, in a Week's ob
v wepreeent them to our
conjunctions and prepo-,
written to
gram*
Ctadjmgjts,
relief ifitt
\vherein'w!
the personal
pressions we
serration; and here'
readers—padding only
sitions, left out, so univei—,
be read When one is beyond n
mar-i '■
•: 'Bxxtok is a caric&turexKkehess of LjouSTnUp
lippet—the same rotundity,, the same peax-shapetT
headland about the! same stature. ; The physical
expression of his facepredominates,.His lower
features j.aje drilledrato-; imperturbable suavity,’
white the eye, thatundrillableiale-teller, twinkles
of# nward slyness 'is a burning lamp-wick does of
oil. He; is a/laborfoiis builder-up of hini^elf—fet
ing by sjdlbgistic forecast 1 , never, by impulses. He
is > prpmpously polite and never abroad' Without
“ExecuUye M ,manners. has made uplhia mind
that oratory, if .not a national weakness,-is anun-
Presidential accomplishment, and he delivers him
self in the Senate with subdued voice, like a judge
deciding] upon /a cause which the other Senators
had onlW argued. He wears an ample blue cloak,
and a oroad-brim'd hat with a high crown, and
lives, moves, and has his being, in a ifaith in him
self which 'wiU remove mountains of credulity.—
j representing a State two thousand; miles
on, he resides regularly at. Washington, paying rare
and brief visits to his constituency, Whose votes he
has retained for more'than twenty years-j-au unac
countable exception tothe rota
tion of the country's gilts of office. j
Mr. Camoux Uves inhis mind and puts a sort
of bathing-dress value on his body.: There is a
temporary-looking; tuck away of his heard and
hair, as if they would presently be better comjbed
in another place—-mouth and eyes kept clear only,
for a brief .Ufe-fcwim s in the ocean of politics: - He
is taH,'Hollow-chested, and emaciated; and both face
and figure are concave 1 , with the student’* bend for
ward. Ha smile's easily when spoken to—indeed
with rather a simple. facility—though, in longer
conversation, he gives his eye to the speaker, barely .
in recognition;, of an idea—with' a most “liertom
sap" withdrawal; from talkativeness, i When speak
ing in the Senate he is a very startling looking
than.. ‘ His skin: lies b&IIow ana loose on the bald
frame, of his face—his stiff gray hair spreads off
from rather' a low forehead with the semicircular,
radiation of the smoke from a wheel,of [fireworks
just come to a stand still—the profuse masses of
white'bleard on his throat catch the eye like the
smoulder of. a fire under his chin—and! his eyes,
bright tjs coals, move with jumps, as if he thought
in electric leaps, from one idea to another. He
dresses j carelessly, walks the street; absent inind
edly,- and is treated with the most marked personal
respect; and involuntary deference, by His brother
Senators and the diplomatists of Washington. - He
is a great man—probably on ambitious one—but
he indignantly denies the charge of 1 «making
tracks" jfor the Presidency.—Home/otirna/.'
I will never forget the expression; used by an
Irishman w hom I oncedexaminedais a witness.
It was at the commenceirient of ray/ professional
career, and while I yet devoted myself to exciting
contests; in Ward Courts, practicing;tiiose arts, the
rudiments of which are best learned in suclrtribu-.
nal, that it one 'day beearae my duty to cross-ex
amine one Michael Slavin, who had “come forard’’
to testify that His friend, Dennis M’Gonegal, had
no “praperty in the wide world.”
Michael was a “fine lump of a boy,” w-itli Ids
hair cropped to the closeness better adapted for the
necessities of a fight, than, the graces of, a parlor.
Around his forehead, however, there frizzled a few '
curls which he was sure to lay hold of when “doin’
• the gen ) teel. y .
; It was pretty evident that Michael, Having some t.
regard fqr me, considered my'pursuit of his friend £
a business quite beneath my powers, and while I *
put question after question to him, there was u -
strange; commingling of waggery! and sadness in
his Harsh. Hut honest features, which indicated that
he would heartily at. the small promise of
my investigation, if he did not feel offended at what:
he considered its want of dignity, i *
“NoW Michael,”., said I, “had hot your friend
Dennis[a sideboiirdt”
“A sideboard!' 5 , exclaimed Michael with a look
of surprise. *“ Would you call the thing he had;
there, a 'sideboard'?! Blessins on us, but gintlemen
has sometimes quare.notions.” ..
“ Queer or not,-rny friend, had he a; sideboard?*’
“Upon my conscience, Counsellor, if you'd, see
the article you're bothern’ about, you'd wondher it
id have house room ('anywhere but out of doors."'
“ Was it a sideboard nr notT’
“It \yas an ould box wid but one leg, and a brick
bat undher it, and plastered all over wid dirt, and
soitaaiJewin Chatham street wouldnot giye a
rap onj.it.’?”." j- • • 'V' •''' •
“Had he'a carpet?V• . '•*;
“A carpet?? exclaimed Michaeh “deed, Conned*,
lor, you're jokinl The. few rags; he kid'*spread,
over tile Sure had maybe looked like a carpet in
the ancient times, but faith, they'd given up lookin
that way for many adong day,” : a i '
, “What was it worth,??. . ; !. ■ .
"“Worth? Pon me.sowl it \yasj worth a man’s
while ip lookiat it for curiosity.'? .
“Come, my: friend, I want .
, “If *ou doh't my darliii,-you'd; better lave off
wid the'carpet? :
“Was it worth five dollars?” ...
“Mijslia good luck/to the Cqoiurt, but that's a
sharp'thing! ; Five dollars!; Ifariyohiadhaun gey 1
five dollars'for, thirn rags, a guinea for a
cup O Jcowld tay?’ :• i . : . ' .
“Nojv, T my.friend, I have heard: enpugfr of this.
I'wantj to know from you whether MqGonegal had
any Jurniture in his room or 'not', andT'require a"
direct answer?' .-h , - • ; -
“ W^ll,. God forgive you, a poor 1
job yotfve got.the, day..i>opr /UiomfcjGod help
him, hifd little enough in his place,but a
nants of ould dacency ” ' \.
>ly crose-exarainution ceased!— X Y.Sjjirit of ike
Times. ' •.■•y'.'r
JCv'l
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wk*t
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' NO. 48.
“Ould Dacencyi” i
A Cueious SHor-BiLiv—Jexas - WittiAMS,'
dark, saxon, town kryer, and batman;,meaks and
he sell4.awl sprtsof weryjgudehaberdayshares, gr*>;
cerris, likewise hare and viggs drest and kut on
thq. shortness ;notess. w *
N. B. I keep* an evening skool, vere l teaches
&t resonable rats, reeding and riting,. graraatticaW
lie, and, singing by nots. " ; . ; . • •
N. B. I plays the hooboy c>casmally,lf
and gets agobd pryce. 1 . v
N, B. My- shop his next dore verelbloed*,
draws teeth, andshooea horses, viththtgreatest
skil, ftojm ould expere#*'.- ( .
N.; Bi Children taught todance, if agreeable, at .
sixpenclperveek, by; me, J,- Willlamsj Whb bieaA J
sells ould irone and doles, :. Shoes Skilled arkoflhn* li '
did, ‘J-1"
N ; > B, A M attd puteaf Btocken* to becug
gleJ ibfc the .best lnfi.onSfove'fiuedii,.- For part
tilert ynkwite vlthla.ef at Shs Bhaa tiad Bell, W
the church. up tothemide af tW .wee, ■ .
w. b, Leekamthe dear Ibr.the altie af the a
PUlne, . _ , > . .;. '
jw«fy fails wle ini auHitiiuea
Slier,. . , :j. .
N, 1] Lujins Ibr single men, ; ]/,.
„Mgj
sSßJySsiicv’??'- v \~:. , *'j»k29
m ...