......: -. 7dit 3,1a11,40t/c./....itt4l.i4c<.tte..t VOL. LXIV HE LANCASTER INTELLIGENCER MAUI ) MOLT TOMMY, AT NO. 8 NORTH DOER arm?, BY GEO. SANDERSON. TERMS o Miami tow—Two Dollars per annum, payable in ad vance. No subscription discontinued until all arrear ages ar • paid, unless at the option of the Editor. Anaxamsiammrs.—Advertisements not exceeding one square, (12 lines) will be inserted three dame for one dollar, and twenty•flae cents for each additional sneer Lion. Those of greater length in proportion. OS PHIS .12(0--anch as Rand Bills, Posters, Pamphlets, Blanks, Labels, dm, ac., exec , ~ with accuracy and on the shortest notice. DRESSED FOR THE BALL She stood in her touching loveliness, All dressed for the coming ball, With her pare white dress and pure white face, Waiting for us in the hall. A diamond star on her bosom lay, Aud starry gems were her eyes, Eyes knowing no shade of thought or care, Winsomely, sweetly unwise. Roses glowed ardent red on her dress, Glowed ardent red on her lips; Roses fainted and drooped on her hair, And died on her finger-tips. Gold clasped the marble curse of her arms, It wound round her throat so fair; It coaxing drooped from her pearly ears, And rippling gold was her hair. I spoke to a friend who gazed with me, I uttered my rising fears: ,4 Oh ! woe, that Grief should that ,over face Jade, And those star-eyes cloud in tears." " Your words are ?ave., words," the lady said "You know that Pain and Pride Are stranger than Joy, or Blossom, or Youth, Or Reason, or aught beside. " She will look up, when her peace is fled, .Ai peacefully sweet es now ; Sobs in the heart send smiles to the lips ; Oh! women alone know how. "Pain shines like joy In the weary eyes, More brilliant than joy perchance And it dyes the cheek and sharply spurs The tired feet In the dance." Then I cried, "My darling must she bear The wearisome weight of oars? If my arms are round her heart for.aye, Will sorrow Jail enter there ?" She must bear her heartbreak all alone, But, oh! for thy darling's sake, Check the harsh thought—the word which, though light, Yet may a breaking heart break. "Pity the sorrow that seemeth joy, And smiles that from pain are wrung ; Pity all maskers, but above all, Pity, oh ! pity the young ! "They must tread ereet a thorny road, In all the summer-tide heat, But silken robes will treed to the ground And hide the poor bleeding feet. " God's tired children are everywhere, We dance with them at the ball: Be kind to the gay, and perchance thy balm On some wayworn soul shall fall." NO ONE TO LOVE No one to love in this wide world of sorrow, No tender bosom our fortunes to share, No loving face from whose smiles we may borrow Soothing in sadness and hope in despair. Pity the heart that doth silently languish, Hiding its grief 'Death a summer day smile, Mourn for the spirit that, prone in its anguish, Sings while the bosom is writhing the while. No one to love in the wide world around us, Why should we oars if we prosper or fail ? None will rejoice when the laurel hath orowned um ; None will lament when oar glory wanes pale. We are but wanderers, o'er the earth roving, No one will follow our footsteps with pray'r; No quiet home, with its true hearts and loving Waiteth our coming to shelter as there. Oft will a laugh that is sweetest and lightest, Thrill with wild anguish our hearts to the core ; Oft will a glance that is kindest and brightest Mind us of those we shall never see more. And when the garlands for beauty's adorning Bear the loved blossoms of those who have fled, Oft will affeotion, unmindful of scorning, Turn from the living to weep for the dead. FALSE AND FAIR. What an exceedingly beautiful girl !' exclaimed one gentleman to another, with whom he was walking, and who had just lifted his hat to three ladies in passing.- 4 Pray who is she There were three ladies in the group to which I bowed,' his companion replied, as I presume it is necessary to inform you, as you seem to have seen but one.— And that one to whom you doubtless refer, is the eldest daughter of Mrs. Ward Bry ant.. Her mother and her sister, almost as perfect a brunette as she is a blonde, accompanied her.' What ! our old preceptor's widow ? Then I must have known these girls as children. Do tell me something more of them, particularly of the fair one, who must be Anna. I must call upon them immediately, and I would fain know some thing before doing so. She interests me exceedingly. Anna? Yes. It is easy to say that. But, for my part, I like Emeline far better.' Brunettes are so spiteful and fiery !' More ardent and intense, doubtless, in all their emotion than their fairer sisters. But what say you to a cool blonde, who systematically deceived the best of moth ers, and whose quiet but indomitable will is daily forcing her into a course of con duct which, while it is soon to bring ruin upon herself, will inflict the deepest sorrow upon that mother's heart.' You do not intend to intimate that Anna Bryant is guilty of such conduct.— With that pure face and gentle mien— deceitful and a liar ! No, no. I do not so read that lovely face.' Yet it is even so. You did not see the shifting grey eyes that never meet any gaze with innocent frankness, nor in your enthusiastic admiration of the whole face did you doted the lines of firmness about her mouth, thi t certainly is lovely in color, nor the heaviness of the lower face, so in dicative of an obstinate temper and low instincts.' No, I did uot. Bat you excite my cu riosity. Pray, tell me, if you are at lib erty to do so, in what manner my old friend's child is proving herself so unwor thy of the name sbe bears.' - - One proof of my assertions you shall see for yourself. The ladies have turned, and era about to meet us again. You see this young man, who has just brushed past us—the one with that eccentric coat, and hat sat jauntily aside, and air that marks him as having his place on the bor der ground, between gentility and vulgar ity. Observe what passes as he meets Anna Bryant. There was an instant's pause. The ladies advanced slowly, and as they neared the young man whom the friends were ob serving, Anna directed the attention of her mother and sister to some object in a shop window. As she did so she pulled her handkerchief from her pocket, and a folded paper fluttered slowly to the ground. There was an almost imperceptible inter change of glances, and then, as the ladies swept on, the young man stooped and lift ed the fallen paper. Was that done by accident or design V inquired the second of the two friends ; and the other answered only by a grave glance, that told the opinion he had feared to form. In another moment he had lifted his hat to . Mrs. Bryant, and wits shaking tier cordially by the hand. But the pleas ire, of his renewed acquaintance, with a riiidy,lictlad highly esteemed .from his youth, was marred by the thoughta awak- ened by the incident he had just witnessed. The acquaintance thus re-commenced was not suffered to die out. By Mrs. Bryant's invitation, Mr. Selden bonnie a frequent visitor to her house. In company with his friend, Malten, in whose company we first saw him, and who was something more than a friend of the sprightly Emeline, he spent many an evening at this hospitable home. Here, and elswhere, he had many opportunities of observing the conduct of Anna. Her beauty continued to make a strong im pression upon him, though he did not fail to note imperfections which Mr. Malten bad pointed out, and to be painfully affect ed by them. 'iley denoted a singular lack of balance and of harmony in her character; and he soon had occasion to see that frankness and straightforward honesty formed no part of it. Winning and gentle in manner, there was yet at times a demureness that showed that her external acts were not the key to her inner emotions. In her society there was even a painful sense of something hid den of a mind occupied with different, far different thoughts and designs from any that appeared on the surface. Had not his attention been so early called to her de feats, he might not have so soon distrusted her especially as she betrayed toward him that flattering deference which, coming from a beautiful and intelligent girl, it so difficult for any man, and especially a heart free bachelor, to resist. The young man who had encountered her in, the street on the day of his first meeting with the family, Mr. Seldon never met at Mrs. Bryant's house. Bat he often saw him on the promenade, and in all public places. More than once he witnessed, himself unobserved, a meeting between him and Anna. And he could not but perceive that there was an under standing between them, even before he chanced to meet them at a rural resort, a few miles from the city, where they were walking arm in arm and in close conversa tion, so absorbing that they did not ob serve him until he was close upon them. Anna started and blushed on seeing him. But she only returned his salutation by a slight bend, and seemed undisposed to prolong the encounter. He returned to the city by the same boat that conveyed her, but she was no longer accompanied by the person he had seen in her society. There was a party of young friends upon the boat, and Anna remained with them until just before reaching the city. Then, as by apparent accident, she sought Mr. Selden's side ; and while expressing her surprise at meeting him, contrived to ex plain that the person ho had seen in her company was an accidental acquaintance, who had overtaken her when she had care lessly lost sight of her friends, and had volunteered to take her to them. Her manner and smile were very winning, as she added : I should have mentioned this, Mr. Sel den, only that I feared you might speak to my mother of having met me in the com pany of a stranger, and thus cause her alarm. Poor mamma ! she is so tremb lingly watchful over Emeline and me that it seems very cruel to cause her a mo ment's uneasiness. So please don't men tion this foolish contretemps, Mr. Selden.' Disgusted and contemptuous at her plausible falsehood, Selden could only bow his head. He dared not trust himself to speak, and ha only hoped that his stately bend might not be taken as an assent to her request. He bad never been so sorely puzzled. The character of informer was most distasteful to him, and yet it seemed the plain duty of si me friend to inform Mrs. Bryant of Anna's frequent associa tion with a person who was not admitted to her home. Months before, Mr. Malten had given him the first proof of Anna's systematic deception of her mother. But Malten had long been intimate with the family, and he was now the promised husband of Emeline Bryant. Yet he had not spoken, and sl ould one who had no such claim to be admitted to the family confidence intrude such evil tidings 7 Several days passed away, during which he debated the subject in his own mind, and did not present himself at Mrs. Bry ant's. At the close of this period, as he was walking just at sunset in some nearly deserted gardens, he spin encountered Anna in company with the obnoxious indi vidual. They were seated on a bench in a retired part of the grounds, in earnest conversation. They did not see him, and after a few minutes separated. As they rose the man's last audible words reached Mr. Selden's ear. I shall be there with the carriage at nine precisly. Do not fail me.' No, not to-night. I am going out with Emmie and Mr. Malten. As we first plan ned that will be much better.' She gave her hand to her companion, and he raised i t to his lips. Then in silence they sought a different exit. That evening Mr. Selden was early at Mrs. Bryant's. He had determined to delay no longer a communication that every moment rendered more important. , He doubted not now that Anna was about to ( lope with the ill-looking fellow in whose company he had so often seen her. While hesitating how to introduce the subject Mrs. Bryant aided him by remark ing her satisfaction in the prospect of Emeline's approaching marriage to Mr. Malten, a man whose character and dispo sition, as well as his social and business position, left nothing to be desired. I can only hope,' she added that Anna may be as fortunate. She has caused me much solicitude. Two or three years since she made the acquaintance of Mark Shelden, a young man of good origin, but incorrigibly given over to dissolute habits, vulgar in his manners, and except in a certain bold, dashing sort of good looks, entirely unprepossessing. He was very determined in his pursuit of her, and I was obliged to exclude him from the list of our visitors. Since that time Arms has yielded to my representations, and ceased to acknowledge his acquaintance. But she has never seemed to enjoy the society of others as much, or to be quite herself since that time. I sometimes fear that Shelden had obtained so strong a hold upon her heart as to render her unable to forget him, though it is difficult to under stand how a person of her refined tastes can ever tolerate him. My only hope is that she may yet win the affection of some worthy man, and forget her quondam lover.' Here was an opening not to be lost ; and though he knew his words must give deepest pain to the mother's heart, 'Mr. • • I of: Y : T:I OBT P :, c 0178 'VI I: 00 I - .8 :r ILIWARD.''--BIIOIIANI/Nr LANCASTER CITY. PA, TUESDAY MORNING, OCTOBER 20, 1863. Shelden dared not hesitate longer. In as few words as possible he told all he knew and had seen, and then placed himself and services at drs. Bryant's disposal. He had hardly concluded when a hasty ring at the bell announced visitors, and in a moment more Emeline and Malten entered, in bete, and almost breathless with consternation. The tidings they brought blanched the mother's face with dread, and braced the nerves of Mr. Bel den to an exertion which might avert the threatened disgrace from the beloved family. An hour before a note had been handed in at the door of the friend's house whom the Misses Bryant were visiting, addressed to Anna. Immediately after receiving it she had retired to the chamber where her wraps had been deposited,- had been ob served to read it there with many marks of agitation, and soon after had departed quite alone, and only seen by the servant who let her out. Emeline had been in another apartment, and ignorant of her sister's departure for a considerable time. Even now she could not form a theory of the cause of her strange conduct, though it was easy to perceive the suspicions of Mr. Malten took the same course as those of the mother and Mr. Selden. It is unnecessary here to describe the pirsuit of the fugitive. It is sufficient that it was successful, and that ere morn ing Anna was discovered, and induced by the entreaties of Mr. Bolden and Mr. Malten to return home. In another hour she would have been the wife of Mark Shelden. Mr. Selden was the most generous of men. As months passed, and he saw Anna —pale, subdued, and apparently deeply penitent and sorrowful for her fault—he could not find it in his heart to withhold the forgiveness her every act and look seemed to crave. He first pitied, then sought to excuse for her conduct. Per haps her mother had been harsh in her dismissal of Mark Sheldon, and a feeling of generous indignation at any injustice toward him might have served to excite her imagination, and cause her to bel,eva that she loved him, and to be willing to make amends by becoming hid wife. I hese men—men of Mark Sheldon's stamp—have specious tongues," he would repeat to himself. The poor girl was d,tubtlass deceived in his character, and with generous trust believe all his promises and protestations. She is very young and inexperienced ; surely I, who, with greater age and wider knowledge of mankind, do err many a time and oft, have no right to judge her harshly.' If he had added that her gentle type of beauty was always most attractive to him —that only his early knowledge of her deceit had prevented his loving her from the first—he might have made a plainer statement of the case, and might have ar rived at a more satisfactory analysis of his present feelings. The I ruth was that he loved Anne Bry ant, as he should have known, the moment he found himself thoroughly forgiving her, for nothing else could have been such convincing proof of the fact. Scarcely more than a year after her elopement with Mark Sheldon, Anna Bry ant became the wife of Mr. Selden. She had received his addresses humbly rnd gratefully, had pleaded her unworthiness, when he asked her to become hie wife, but had yielded to his entreaties. Afterwards she had responded to his manifestations of affection with a half shy, half reluctant tenderness, that, while it left no room for doubt, fascinated him into complete for getfulness of her past life. Her oharacter seemed to have under gone an entire change. fhat she had for gotten her former love, and had given het heart unreservedly to the present one, no one but Mr. Matten seemed to doubt. He had found his warnings disregarded, and had therefore wisely kept silence, after the engagement was announced. His heart alone sunk with a sudden weight and chill of misgiving when he saw his friend stand at the altar with a bride whom he mental ly characterised " false as fair." For a long time his fears seemed des- tined to no realization. Shelden was hap py. There was no cloud upon the horizon of his life's hopes ; there might have been a shadow, but it was so dim that even he was scarcely conscious of it. It was a necessity of his nature to trust. fully when he trusted; and when two or three pretty instances of deceit on the part of Anna came to his knowledge, her pretty peni tence speedily won his forgiveness, and he firmly believed that these were but the last struggles of a temptation she was fast overcoming forever. Mark Sheldon had left the city soon after his plans were thwarted in•the elope ment. When Anna had been married about two years, he again made his ap pearance there. Rumor said he had been living a wild and lawless life in some of the southwestern cities, and certainly his countenance bore deep impress of a dissi pated career. A man more utterly repul sive in his aspect to a woman of refine ment, would seldom be met outside the haunts of the fraternity to whom he now openly belonged. It is not known how or in what manner Anna renewed her acquaintance with him, though 'after revelations favored the be lief in the minds of many persons that she had never lost sight of him, nor ceased her intercourse. That she had re newed it was known to most of her ac quaintances, and more than one person had seen her in his company before any one oould summon courage enough to point out the fact to her husband. So, hesitating from day to day, while rumor made itself busy with the name of Anna Selden, no lips uttered the tale of her folly until too late. She eloped with Mark Sheldon, and this time her plans were too well arranged to admit of failure. Daring her husband's temporary absence she left her home, and her infant son in the cradle, left all the delights and lux uries that love had gathered about her, and the sure protection of a generous and faithful affection—to accompany the ruin ed gamester upon his precarious and sin ful career. Seek her, if you will,' Mr. Selden said to Mr. Malten, now the husband of Eme line Bryant. Draw on me for all needed monies; but do not bring her before my sight. Henceforth she must .be dead to me. I have loved, and trusted, and for given. Henceforth Uwe and - trust are dead, and forgiveness impossible. And yet, for the sake of many sweet memo ries, I would have here saved from deeper degradation, more complete ruin?- Bat for many a year the quest was vain. The heart-broken mother performed, as well as she might, the offices so heart lessly neglected, to the child of her daughter. Mr. Selden united his house hold to hers, and was a Son to her. But gloom rested upon that once happy home, which a daughter's and a wife's trangres sions had filled with unutterable sorrow. Forever, in this life, the innocent suffer for the guilty, and bear the heavy pangs of sorrow for the wrong-doing of the be loved one. And so the years passed slowly away. One wintry morning, a woman's form, half concealed in the whirling snow, crouched within the doorway of a lofty mansion. In the early dawn it lay there, and when the sun stole up and threw its rays down between the rows of tall houses, it was then so motionless that the few passers, at that early hour, were puzzled to know whether sleep or death enchained her there. One, more bold or carious than the rest, ran down the area, and repeated to the wondering servant the surmises that the little group assembled in the street had been bandying among themselves. The door was opened, a shriek of alarm from the old servant's lips disturbed the inmates of the house at their meal, and presently strong arms had lifted and borne into the hall the still cold form. Pale brown, sunken cheeks and hands all hardened and knotted by toil, were there. Rags wrapped the form from which all grace had not fled even with the rigidity of death. But the well remem bered hair of sunny brown, with the rip ple of gleaming gold in its glossy length, betrayed the wanderer's name though many a line of silver' streaked its bright tresses. Anna Bryant had come home to die upon her mother's threshhold. They bore her in, and laid her down at the feet of three whose lives her sin had made all sorrowful—the mother, the hus band, the bright haired boy who could couple his mother's name only with shame. What a warning in her sad career Stooping to deceit in her youth, living for years an acted life, accepting an hon orable love only to trample upon it, wear ing an honorable name only to sully it with shame, bestowing upon her innocent child a heritage of disgrace, and plung ing at last into a career from which there was no return, she but exemplified, the in evitable law of the swift gradations of vice. No girl who wilfuly and syste matically deceives an affectionate parent, ought ever to be trusted in any relation of life. And he who takes such an one as his wife does so at a peril he can little es timate. JUST AS WELL TO DO IT IN A HURRY. Why, you see, when my man came a (mart in' me, I hadn't the least thought of what he was after—not 1. Jobie came to our house one night, after dark, and rapped at the door. I opened it, and sure enough there stood Jobie right before my fade and eyes. Come in,' sez I,'and take a cheer,' 'No, Lizzie,' ' sez he, ' I've come on an arrant, and I always do my arrants fast. ' But you had better come in and take a cheer, Mr. W—.' No, I can't. The faot is, Lizzie, I've come on this cotu business. My wife's been dead these three weeks, and everything's going to rank an' rain right straight along. Now, Lizzie, of you've a mind to hev me, an' t ike oare of my home, an' my children an' things, tell me, and I'll come in and take a cheer; if not, I'll get some one else tu.' Why, I was skeered, and sed—'lf yon come on this (martin' business, come in ; I must think on it a little.' No, I can't till I know. That's my arrant's done. I should like to think on't a day or two.'' No, you needn't, Lizzie.' 'Well, John, if I must, I must— so here's to you, then.' So Mr. W—came in. Then he went after the Squire, an' he married us right off, an' I went home with Jobie that very night. I tell you what it is, these long oourtin's don't amount to nothin' at all. Just as well to do it in a hurry. A PARISIAN BANKER, very wealthy and generous, was engaged to marry a young lady of high rank, and everything was prepared. The bridegroom had sent in the corbeille, which was extremely rich, the diamonds alone being worth over one hundred thousand francs. Wishing to enjoy the gratification of his bride, he fol lowed closely on the heels of his present, and finding no one in the parlor, he enscon ced himself in a window behind the ourtin. Presently a whole bevy of girls fluttered in to the room, and all began talking at once. 'Oh, did you ever see such a beautiful cor beille ? Louise is lucky ; what a gentleman husband she will have !' She ought to be happy, to be sure ; but do you know what she told me just now I—why, that she would rather have the corbeille without the gentleman who gave it.' 'lt can't bi— see never said so.' 'She certainly did, and there she is—ask her for yourself. Louise didn't you tell me you would rather have the corbeille alone without Mr. ?' 'Yes, I say so ; but that's between our selves.' 'Much obliged to you, madem oiselle,' said Mr. , coming forward, 'you shall not have either.' So saying, he coolly put the splendid present under his arm, and walked off, leaving the ladies in an embarrassment 'easier conceived than expressed.' CO''' An amusing thing occurred in the Twenty-fourth Ohio. A few days since a soldier, in passing to the lower part of the encampment, saw two others from his com pany making a rude coffin. He inquired who it was for. John Bum,' said the others. Why,' replied he, John is not dead yet. It is too bad to make a man's ooffin when you don't know if he is going to die or not.' 6 Don't trouble yourself, replied the others. 'Dr. Coe told us to make his ooffin, and I guess he knows what he gave him.' It has been thought that people are degenerating, because they don't live as long as in the days Methuselah. But no body can afford to live long at the current prices. 1:1 Anatomists say that man changes every seven -years. Therefore,' says the inimitable Jones, 'my tailor should not remind me of the bill I contrasted in 1855—1 ain't the man. 6 irk" s I am all heart,' said a military - officer tohis eoniradea. 'Pity you're pot part plink,' said the colonel in 'etniimand. Worth of Money. We hear a good deal about the worth of property. A house is worth ten thong and dollars ; that lot is worth five thous and dollars ; a farm is worth eight thous and; a horse three hundred, and so on endlessly. This is all very well in its way. But ought not the question, so petimes, to be put the other way—how much is a man's money worth : 1 ' There is a wide; range, in the value of money than most persons think. And, upon a littlo inquiry, I suspeot that it will be found that all persons who possess it, have a way of measuring it, not by dollars, but by its value in some sort of pleasure or article. One man earns a thousand dollars, and says to himself—there, that puts me one step out of debt. Money to him is a means of personal liberty. A man in debt is not a freeman. The borrower is a servant to the lender.' Another man sees in a thousand dollars a snug little homestead, a home for his children, a shelter to his old age, a plane to live in, and a good place to die in. Bat his neighbor only sees one more link in the golden °ludo of wealth. It was only thirty-nine thousand last month, he is worth forty this. And his joy is i i the growing numerals. He 'imagines how it will sound, full round and hearty, when men say, he is worth a hundred thousand dollars.' Nay, when it comes to that, he thinks five a better sound than one, and five hundred thousand is a sound most musical to the ear,—though he loves even better yet to call it half a million ! The word million outs a great swath in men's imaginations. All this estimate of money is sheer ambition. The man is vain. He thinks much of himself on account of money, not of character. A man who is openly proud of money is secretly con temptuous of those who have none. Another man wishes to see the world. Every dollar means Europe. Two thou sand dollars means Egypt, Palestine and Greece. Boys dealing in small sums reckon the same way. A penny means a stick of candy ; a sixpence is bat another term for a ball ' • shilling means kite, and fifty cents a jack knife. young Crack' sees in his money a skeleton wagon And fast nag, a rousing trot, a jolly drink, •and. a smashing party. But many and many a weary soul sees in every shilling, bread, rent,.fuel, clothes. There be thousands who hold on to virtue by hands of dollars ; a few more save them ; a few less and they are lost.— Their gay sisters see feathered hats and royal silks in their money, or rather in their fathers' and their husbands. The poor scholar passes daily by the stall where books tempt his poverty.— Poor olothes he is content to wear ; plain and oven meager diet he is willing to sub sist upon ; and as for all the gay dissipa tions and extravagant wastes of fashiona ble life, he looks upon them without even understanding what they mean, as a child looks upon the milky-way in the heavens, a glowing land of far-away and unexplored wonders. Bat oh, those books ! He looks longingly at morning ; he peers at them with a gentle covetousness at night. He imagines new devices for earning a few dollars. He ponders whether there is not some new economy which can save a few shillings. And when good luck at last brings a score of dollars to him, with a fervor of hate does he get rid of them, fairly running to the stall, and fearing at every step, lest some fortunate man should seize the prize. Wastefhl man that night saw too much oil burnt in poring over the loyal treasure. Books are what his money -is worth. But others see different visions. Money means flowers to them. New roses, the latest dahlia, the new ()smells, or others of the great houri band of flowers that fill the florist's paradise—the garden. Some men see engravings in money ; some pictures ; some rare copies of old books ; some curious missals. Others, when you say money, think of fruit trees, of shrubbery, of aboretums, and pluetums, and fraticetums. And we have reason to believe that there are some poor wretches who, not content with _pc insanity, see pretty much all things b, turns. But there are nobler, sights than these to be seen, through the golden lens of wealth ; a father and mother placed in comfort in old age ; a young man helped through college or established in business ; a friend extricated from ruin ; a poor wo man saved from beggary, and made a sup pliant before God for mercies on your head, every day that she lives ; the sick and un fortunate succored, the orphan educated, the school founded, the village lined with shade trees, a free library established, and and a thensand such things. A man is not known by how much he has, but by what that money is worth to him. If it is worth only selfishness, meaness, stinginess, vanity, and haughty state, a man is not rich if he own a million of dollats If it means generosity, public spirit, social com fort and refinement, then he is rich on a few hundred. You put your band on a man's heart to find out how muoh he is worth, not into his pocket. A SUBSTITUTE'S OFFER.—Mr. Pilkin son, a small farmer in Pennsylvania, was sometime ago drafted for the service of his country. His wife, though she possesses but a small stook of general information, is one of the best conjugal partners, and she is much troubled at the thought of parting with her husband. The other day, as she was engaged in scrubbing off her door steps, a rough-looking man came up and thus addressed her : I hear, ma'am that your husband has been drafted.' Yes, sir, he has,' answered Mrs. Pilkin son, though dear knows there is few men that could not be better spared from their families.' 6 Well, ma'am, I've come to offer myself as a substitute for him.' A what ?' asked Mrs. Pilkinson, with some excitement. ' I'm willing to take his place,' said the stranger. Yon take the place of my husband, you wretch! teach you to insult a dis tressed woman in that way, yon vagabond !' cried Mrs. Pilkinson, as she discharged the dirty soap suds in the face of the dis comfited and astonished substitute, who took to his heels just in time to escape having his head broken by the bucket. Og" Mr. and Mrs. Brewer, of Ken tucky, are reported to be parents of twehty-,two children. Rather an extensive Brewery that. - - - THE LANCASTER. INTELLIGENCER . JOB PRINTING ESTABLISNALS.Nr, No. 8 NORTH DII/CR STREET, LANOAFITHR, PA. The Jobbing Department is thoroughly IN:nabbed with new and elegant type of every description, and 11 under the charge of a practical and experienced Job Printer:— The Proprietors are prepared to PRINT CHECKS, NOTES,' LEGAL BLANKS, BILL HEADS AND HANDBILLS, CARDS AND CIRCULARS, PROGRAMMES PAPER BOOKS AND PAMPHLETS, AND POSTERS, BALL TICKETS AND INVITATIONS, PRINTING IN COLORS AND PLAIN PRINTING, with Eastman, accuracy and dispatch, on the most reasons ble mete in terme, the c it y ad i a manner not excelled by any establish /lir Orders from a distance, by mail or otherwise' promptly attended to. Address GEO. SANDERSON s SON, Intelligeneer Moe, No. 8 North Duke street, Lancaster, Pa. SHEAPPER , S CHEAP BOOR STORE No. 32 NORTH QVRRIV STRBET IS THE PLACE TG PURCHASE SCHOOL BOOKS A SCHOOL STATIONERY ,COMPRISING ALL /lei VARIOUS READING AND SPELLING BOOKS, ARITHMETICS AND ALGEBRAS, GRAMMARS AND ETYMOLOGIES, DICTIONARIES AND HISTORIES, PHILOSOPHIES, &0., &o. COPY AND COMPOSITION BOOKS, LETTER, CAP AND NOTE PAPER, BLANK—BOOKS, SLATES, LEAD AND SLATE REVCILS, PENS AND HOLDERS, INK, INKSTANDS, RULERS, and the beat and most complete assortment of SCHOOL STATIONERY IN THE CITY. W Llberardiscounts made to Teachers and Merchants at JOHN SHEAFFER'S Cheap Cash Book Store, 82 North Queen street, Lancaster. tf 40 IT AIR DRESSING AND SHAVING SALOON. _ - SAMUEL J. WILLIAMS takes pleasure in notifying his numerics friends and customer*, that he has removed Ida Saloon from Cooper's Hotel to the basement under Peter M'Conomy's Shoe Store. in West King street, near the Market House, and has fitted It up in new and elegant style or the accommodation of customers. HAIR DRESSING, SHAVING AND SHAMPOONING done in. the m at scientific and fashionable style, and his tonsorial operations are performed with the greatest ease and comfort to all concerned. He will also color the hairswl whiakers, and,Ernarantee the colors to be applied without injury to either. Give the Professor a call, and he flatters himself that he will be able to render general satisfaction. Air Don't make a mistake and get into the wrong shop. Recollect, it is immediately under M'Conomy'e Shoe Store. apr 15 tf 141 S. J. WILLIAMS. F INE WATCHES! RICH JEWELRY SILVER WARE! SILVER PIE, CAKE AND BUTTER KNIVES. SUGAR, OREAM AND OYSTER SPOONS. SOUP AND OYSTER LADLES, SPOONS, FORKS, Ac., ao. LA INST SarnrA Alen Box WORKMANSHIP. SILVER-PLATED WARE I SILVER-PLATED WAKE BASKETS, CASTORS, PITCHERS, MUGS, SPOONS, FORKS, Ac., ao., JUST PROM THE FACTORIES. WATCHES! WATCHES!! WATCHES! WASSANT.ICD CHEAP I CHEAP II CHEAPII CLOCKS! CLOCKS!! CLOCKS!! JEWEL Y JEW J WELRYI R GE I S, COLMIEV E T R pida y reolja. LLTIBT BITLVI AND }MST QIILLITT. HARRY Z RHOADS, 22.3,- WHIST KING STIII.III, Between Cooper's Hotel end J. G. Getz's Dry GOods Store dee 17 tf 49 BUILDING SL ATE THE BEST QUALITIES IN THE MARKET. The undersigned, having made arrangements with Mr It. JONES, for all his best quality of PEACH BOTTOM SLATE, for this market; and a similar arrangement with the proprietors of six of the principal and beet quarries in York county, he has must received a large lot of these superior qualitities of Building Slate, Which will be put on by the square, or sold by the ton, on the most reason able terms. Also, constantly on band, an EXTRA LIGHT PEACH BOTTOM SLATE, intended for Slating 012 Shingle Roofs. As these qualities of Slate are THE BEST IN THE MARKET, Builders and others will Bud it to their interest to call and examine samples, at my office in WM. D. SPRECHER'S, New Agricultural and Seed Ware-rooms. ONO. D. SPRECHER, N 0.28 East King St., 2 doors West of the Court House. S 4 - This is to certify that I do not sell my hest quality of Peach Bottom (lunged Slate to any other person in Lancaster, than Geo. D. Sprechor, as above elated. R. JONES, Manufacturer of Peach Bottom Roofing Slate. ly 7 JAMES 11. WALTON. THOMAS W. TOOT WAL TON dc. YOST BANKERS, BROKERS, AND GENERAL COLLECTORS, No. 25 BoIITH THIRD STEKOT, PHILADELPHLS. REFERENCES:! Jay, Cooke & Co., E. P. Middleton & Brother. James, Kent, Santee & Co., Esherick, Black & Co., C. H. M'Klbbln & Son, Hon. Wm. Wilkins, Hon. James Pollock, " H. D. Foster, " A. EL Reeder, " Asa Packer, " Warren J. Woodward, V. L. Bradford, Esq., " Geo. Sanderson. HIGHEST PRICE --- GOVERNMENT AND OTHEI STOCKS BOUGHT AND feb 17 FOB. GOLD AND SILVER. INTERNISTS OULLEOTED. BOLD ON COMMISSION. G 7 • g m e gT,6I" T, nii 4 4 • A 11b49 Er„ W f , ma y _ _a Re I' g:p2, l k A ,T;-0:1au • za.2.2.5 2 .;° 5 tEalr • -"wrAA 6 o,..22gzepigaB in• .22;Alri . : 5 11ff 8 Owiiiil,t4"o, l 4: .tet.' a tiaotf B E • 1.11f;a12Hog4:1 • m gi ? 4 ;11 4 2"-.714' • Alk I =atzt , r=tEsllll - ra z =el A THE lINITICD STATES HOTEL. a ARRIBBEFBEI, PA. COVERLY & HTITCHISoN, Proprietors. This well known Hotel is now In a condition to accommo- date the traveling public, affording the most ample con veniences alike for the transient guest and permanent boarder. THE UNITED STATES HOTEL has been entirely refit ted throughout, and now has accommodation. equal in extent, comfort and luxury to any hotel between Phila delphia and Pittsburg. Its location is the beet in the State Capital, being in easy access to all the railroad depots, and in close proximity to all the public offices and business localities of the city. It has now all the conveniences of A FIRST—CLASS HOTEL, and the Proprietors are determined to spare neither ex pense, time or labor to ensure the comfort of the guests. The patronage of the traveling public is respectfully solicited. (June M em 24 pIIBLISHED THIS DAY. ANNETTE, OR THE LADY OF THE PEARLS, BY ALEXANDER DUMAS, (Too Youstoss,) Author of "La Dame aux Candilas," or Camille, the Camelia Lady." • Translated from the French by Mrs. Wm. R. A. Johnson, Esq., of Philadelphia. ANNETTE! ANNETTE! THE LADY OF THE PEARLS! ANNETTE, or THE LADY OF THE PEARLS. By A LEXABDICH Di71“13, the youdger author of "Camille, or the Camelia Lady," and translated from the French by hire. Wm. R. A. Johnson, Esq, of Philadelphia,—is pub— lished and for sale this day, complete in one large octavo volume, large type, double column, and prir ted on the finest and best of white paper. Price Fifty Cents s copy. The work Is full of Incident, character and great Inter• eat, and will have popularity equal to any Work that has been leaned from the press tor many years, and Is equal, If not superior to its predecessor, "Camille," by the same author; For sale at J. M. WEiTHAFFER% Cheap Book Store ap 21. tf 15 M wa;gti6„ QP4.4lgpq gg:31:7214 Ef=, plgt2=z64l.Uf zi rals=p ll 4B e• t:11 4- ize g l i2 i ogm -75 r 5 .WEg'n -Atw celi'.; 4l7 l2: =o6 n cr w-e.ssle4l4Teil =g t .. ma 2 ;o-2.2geoA r -421 1 1 v" 4.Pk.tg ZA 21,1..L,r0„4 Ele.o2 o t - t o .g t o s4p Qat1gt0123........ 3 g[l• 1P,;.7,1 3 :t e te-a m.., W tr4r4?2.,41-.-111., C 64 gEroiiiic,ioMg NEW YORK MEDICAL INSTITUTE. A benevolent Institution endowed for the cure of Chronic Diseases of every nature, and to protect invalids from quack advertisers and imposters. No charges except for medicine until cured, and in case of extreme poverty treatment free.: No Minerals or. Polsotoons Drugs, The Physicians have had long and extensive experience both in private and Hospital practice. The following are some of the complaints to which special attention is given. AM diseases of the Head, Throat, Lungs, Heart, Stomach, Liver, Kidney, Bladder, Rheumatism, Pita, Cancer, Dlir . Nervous Affections, Diseases of the Sexual Organs, Seminal Weakness, Impotence and Virulent diseases of every nature positively cured. Diseases of Ramifies and all Irregalsrities emcoessfully treated. Blindness and ; lleif. nese cared without painful operations Patients treated by letter; by sendingWatgiament - ef their ease. Medicitss sent to any part of the - rountry. Consultation free to' all. - M 314111 DEN...12A% Ctmsultinic Midden; ' 211 . 211 , _ 000 , Broadway'. No* ork 1863. BALL DRY Goons-. ore now opening a large stook of goods abed to Pall rim Cloth Cloaks and aloaktags. . Cinch*, Stella and Woolen Moths, of the amain (WAIL Clothe, Cashmeres, Bathkette, Amis. Le. HOUSE FURNISHING GOOD& Linens, Damasks, Napkins, Table Clothe. Wansl lir Quills, Blankets, 'Zaklnge, Cheeks, Mints, .Towellnp, he. °ABM& English and Tapestry Brume* Ingrain and Venetian, Hag and Hemp Carpets. OIL CLOTHS, MATTINGB AND RUGS. CHINA, GLABEI AND QUELENBWAD.7I Also, a lot of PRIM PEATHERIL 10,000 Pieces Wall Papera,,Deoatstiona And Borden. The above goods have been purchased at the lowed market prime, and will be sold at a small advance. cep 8 tr 3.5 HAGER 4 BBOTRIIIR4. FALL, 1983. CLOTHING. FALL, 1163. HA E% & BROTHERS Have new open a most complete stook of READY-MADB CLOTHING YOB MEN AND BOIL AB our Clothing is all manufactured 1n Laniastior, Mid the materials selected with great care, we can recommend it with confidence. A inn Line of CLOTHS, OASBIMERBS AND VNBTINCIS, Which will be made up to order, in superior manner, et abort notice. SHIRTS, COLLARS, HANDHEIRCEMBPS, NRCH.TERS, In Great Variety. T‘R. SWEET'S D INFALLIBLE LINIMENT, THE GREAT EXTERNAL REMEDY. FOR RHEUMATISM, GOUT, NEURALGIA; Ltritiago, STIFF NECK AND JOINTS SPRAINS,'BRIIIfits„ CUTS AND WOUNDS, PILES, HEADACHE, AND ALL RHEUMATIC AND NEB.— - VOUS DISORDERS. For all of which It is a speedy and certain remedy mid never falls. Thin Liniment is prepared from the recipe of Dr. Stephen Sweet, of Oonnecticut, the fampus Nine setter, and has been used in his practice (or' more thsalmuity years with the most astonishing success. AS AN ALLEVIATOR OF PAIN, Ibis unrivalled by any preparation before the public, of which the most skeptical may be convinced by a single trial. This Liniment will cure, rapidly and radically,. Rioni matte Disorders of every kind, and in thousands of OMNI where it has been used It has never been known to tall. FOR NEURALGIA, it will afford immediate relief la every case, however distressing. It will relieve the worst cases of HEADACHE in three minutes and is warranted to do It. TOOTHACHE also will it cure instantl . FOR NERVOUS DEBILITY AND GIINHEAL LASSI— TUDE arising from imprudence or eared, thicldnlmant Is a most happy and unfailing remedy: Acting directiy upon the nervous tissues, it strengthens and revivifies the eye. tern, and restores it to elasticity and vigor. FOR PILIIII—As an external remedy, we alalm that it Is the best known, and we Challenge the world' bh produce an equal. Every victim of this distressing ooraplaint•ehoold give it a trial, fotit will not WI to afford' immedhae relief and in a majority of cases will effect a radical care. QUINSY AND BORE THROAT are sometimes extremely malignant and dangerous, but a timely application of this Liniment will never fall to cum. SPRAINS are sometimes very obstinate, and online meat of the joints is liable to occur if neglected. The worst case may be conquered by this Liniment in two or throe days. BRUISES, OUTS, WOUNDS, SORES, ULCERS, BURNS and SCALDS, yield readily to the wonderful bean pro. parties of Dr. Sweet's Infallible Liniment when tiled aa cording to directions. Also, OHILBLAINS, FROSTED FEET, INSECT BITES and STINGS. Every Horse Owner ehonid have this remedy at hand, for its timely use at the filet appearance of Lemons"' will effectually prevent those formidable dilemma, to which all horses are liable, and which render so many atheawba valuable horses nearly worthless. ' - Over four hundred voluntary teetknoniale to the wandar ful curative properties of thin Liniment have been received within the lad two years, and many of them from yarn= in the highest tanks of life. DILUTION. To avoid imposition, observe the Signature and Mamma of Dr. Stephen Sweet on every label, and also "Stellate."' Sweet's Infallible Liniment" blown in the glue •of sash bottle, without which none are genuine. - 2.IOHARDBON * 00., Sole Proprietors, Norwich, OR For Sale by all Dealers. Dane 16 ly 23 THE ELIXIR OE LEER Prepared by the underalgned from the origin ' s' re ceipt, has proved of universal utility as a family medicine, and is not surpassed, if equaled, as a remedy In the follow ing complaints, vim FOR COSTIVENESS, DYSPEPSIA OR INDIGESTION, WEAKNESS, READAIDELE, PILES, SUMMER COMPLAINTS, BEVER AND AGUE FEMALE COMPLAINTS, and various other diseases arising from impurity of tha blood and deranged digestive orgarus. All who have made a trial of this Elixir, will never be without a bottle of it at hand. This valuable Pemily Elixir, can be had wholesale or ret ail at the Drug Store of the sUbseriber, On the corner of South Queen and Vine streets, in the City of Lancaster, Pa. CHARLES GEHELING. Numerous testimonials of the cures performed b 7 this Elixir can be shown from persons who have used the tame, either personally or in the family, of which a few are given as a sample. CERTIFICATES: The truth of the above statement I shoe:tally certify to, from having given this Elixir a fair trial in my runny: C. F. REESE, Blillerwrills. • - I, the undersigned, having for a considerable time Buffered from Indigestion or Dyspepsia and Headache, and after various other remedies tried, found no relief, until I need Mr. Gehrlng'e Elixir of Life, which won removed every symptom of the complaint. When any member of my family becomes unwell all I have to do la to give a dose of hfr.Gehring'a EBiir of Life, which speedily removes the complaint and relieves the patient. LIIOI7B BRUCE, Lancaster, Pa.. I have exceedingly 'infrared, for some time, from female complaints, and until I ruled Mr. Gehring's 113111 r, (which can not be too highly recommended,) whichlly re. stored me to perfect health. JULIANA I OLY, cep 15 3m 36] Lebanon, Pa. FANCY FURS I FANCY FURS I I JOHN FABEDZA, 718 Aeon BTaii (below Bth south aids PHILADELPHIA. Importer, Manufactt of and Dealer In all Eine FANCY FURS I for Ladies' andldrt Wear. I wish to return thanks to my friend[ Lancaster and the a rounding counties, for tht very liberal patronage tended to me during last few years, and en say to them that I I have in store, of my Importation and Mant ment of all the (Wrenn Furs, for Ladies and MlL— the Fall and Winter sawn& Being the direct Importer of all my Furs front Itlfc9oe and having them all Manufactured tinder my own elapw. vision—enables me to offer my customers and the plane a much handsomer set of Furs for the same money. Ladies please give me a call before parch/Wag! Pisan remember the name, number and street. , • 10Elff 7.1.1111011, No. 718 Arch ¬, Philadaphla. fm 36 ANNETTE! D R. SWEET'S IMPAILLIMLIC THE REA TER TER NA Z . E.EY - EDT. FOR RHEUMATISM, GOUT, NEURALGIA, LUMBAGO, STIFF NECK AND JOINTS, SPRAINS; • BRUISES, OUTS AND WOUNDS, PILES, MADAME, AND ALL RHEUMATIC AND NEB= • votra mown& ___ • DR. STEPHEN SWEET, OF CONNECTICUT, • The Great Natural Bone Seater. DR. STEPHEN SWEET, or costmorlouT. • Is known allover the Nutted Stater. DR. STEPHEN SWEET, OP CONNECTICUT. Is the author of "Dr. Sweet's Infallible Litiment." awrisrmasuaor.a LINIMENT Cures Rheumatism aid never fails. DR. SWEET'S INFALLIBLE LIMIUMT Is a certain remedy for Neuralgia. DLL SWEETS INFALLIBLE LINIMENT Cures Burns andlcalds Immediately.. DR SWEET'S INIPALLENT Is the best known Remedy for Sprains and DR. SWEET'S MYALLIBLILIJNISIEMS Cures Headache immediately and was nevocknown to fall DR SWEET'S INFALLIBLE Affords imuutdiate relief bar Plies, and aeldOuilalla cure. DR. SWEETS MAMMA! 001113 Toothaehe In uneMinute._ ' DR. SWIM'S EiTALLIELE Cures Cute and Wounds immediately and trianietca soar. DR. SWEET'S INPALDMILE.AJNIIMT Is the best remedy for Sores in the known WeiliL4 l DR. SWESTILINPALLIBISI Has been need by more than 'a mlMois ' ell praise It s !.. • DR. SWILETII „MAU , TuLE Is truly*" friend In need," aad nnat — Y tim.roktiaa ban It at hand. - DR. SWINTEtiIgP Is for sale by all Drunists. • , Prlie- 25 *l'For We bY ill Deplete. -- • • 9i T 24 ita ill s:L ll4 e ,1 4 013,01 ..".92. 25u 7. . . r A qv Nu r Drug a Chadoal Star* 112VNIR • • • NO. 41. HAGER t WITMER ILDIB43' DREW GOODS: . MEN'S WEAR ANTON ISKAiLaneaster city
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers