MESE C. . .. . . . . . ....... . . - . ..'-, •-• !.;', /1" ..;.1 '• lii. •'... //. . - . / 1, t....f.."4 gt tr) • I I: . .-. . 4.....1'.. J.. :...., .... k.. t. I ' iJ . ~... . . ... - 1 11 • : - .L. I . . .. .. • _ .. . . . . •• . . , . -. ... . . . ~. . ... . . ~ . . . . . . f '" • . .. .. .. , ...... • ... . . . . . t: ~i~u v:li; 1 ve L' . -Lxv TIiiiTTLANCATER INTELLIGENCER .IiONJMIN WIRT Tersarax,. AT NO. 8 NORTH DUN MEN?, •• IL BY GEO. SANDNILSON & SON. TERMS. PiOthollits per ; annum, if paid in advance. — $2.60, if not 'Odd liktlbre the expiration of the - year. -All subscriptions are, however. expected to behtdd in advance. •,••••• - , ADV-KRTISING , DEPARTMENT. -Busauss• ADVILMSESINTS. by the year, or fractions of a ANY,. in Weekly PANTS, to lie charged at the rate of $12.00 per square of ten lines. 10 per cent. increase on the yeayly,rate for fractions of a year. 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THOMAS, Church Advocate A WOMAN'S QUESTION From "Legends and Lyrics," a new volume just published in London, by Adelaide Anne Proc tor, (daughter of Barry Cornwall.) Before I trust my fate to thee, Or place my hand in thine, Before I let thy future give, Color and form to mine, Before I peril all for thee, question thy soul To-night for me. s. I break all slighter bonds, nor feel A shadow of regret; Is there one link within the past That holds that spirit yet? Or is thy faith as clear and free as that which I can pledge to thee ? Does there within thy dimmest dreams A possible future shine, Wherein thy life could henceforth breathe, Untouched, unshared by mine? If so, at any pain or cost, uh, tell me before all is lost. Look deeper still. Ift hou ant feel. Within thy inmost soul, That thou has kept a portion back, While I have staked the whole: Let no false pity spare the blow, but in true mercy tell me so. Is there within thy hear'. a need That mine cannot fulfil? One chord that any utl er band Could better wake of still Speak now—lest at some future day my whole life wither and decay. Lives there within thy nature hid The demon spirit change, Shedding a passing gl iry still On all things II CNC/ and strange? It may not be thy fault alone—but shiebrmy heart against thy t wn. Could'at thou withdraw thy hand one day And answer to my claim, That fate, and that to-day's mistake, Not thou—had been to blame; Some soothe their conscience thus, but then 0, surely, thou wilt warn me nuw. Nay, answer not—l dare not hear, The words would come too late: Yet I would spare thee all remorse, So, comfort thee, my fate; Whatever on my heart may fall, remember, I would risk it all. WILL SHE MARRY? When Milford Brightly died, he left his young and pretty widow in a predicament. To be sure, the Widow Alice remained in charge of the Pelican Hotel, which he had. rendered popular, and which was ConOdered a valuable piece of property, still bidding fair to do a thriving business, but no spotter' had her husband departed; than Mrs. Brightly found herself the chief topic of the town—the object of vigilant and curious speculation-3 among the board ers and frequenters of the Pelican, and the neighbors generally, as to the pros pact of her marrying again, when, and to whom. A question arose as to whether she had really loved her husband, who, though good and affectionate, had been much Older than she. This question was deci ded by the gossips in the affirmative.— Then a question followed as to whether .she.;now loved any body else ; and on this there was much doubt and much positive ness, and a wide difference in opinion.— The theme was so interesting and prolific that it sprouted under much care, and the branches grew from it. One branch was, whether in a moral, re ligious, and sentimental point of view, she ought to marry. Very luarrelsome chat terers and twitters perched upon that branch, and agitated themselves in the breeze. A branch from this branch was whether, if the widow was justified in marrying, within about what time it would be perfectly decent for her to do the same; and a twig on this branch was, what her own judgment might be on that particular point. Then there was another grand branch, viz: whe, her Mrs. Brightly want ed to marry again : and this was perhaps the most important branch of all; be cause, if she should hal pen not to want to marry, no power on , arth could force her to do so, and she would remain a wid ow—and there would be au end of all discussion. But there were yet °ther branches, which claimed careful attention. One of these, quite melancholy and romantic,was wheth er Mrs. Brightly could marry again, and .not violate her husband's dying wish ; for there was a report, of uncertain authenti city, however, that Milford Brightly had been so fond of his wife, that he charged per, BS she valued his memory, to remain a widow forever, and come to him in hea ven without incumbrancc s. Some said, if this was true, it might not deter the widow ; but then here a power ful branch grew out, in the shape of an other report, which insisted that the la mented husband had left the principal part of his property to her, conditionally upon her never marrying again. This seemed a kind of ugly branch, but it also seemed as strong as it was ugly, and com manded respect, because its leaves on one side mere golden. • But the eyes of many refused to contem plate this branch. They stood entirely on the other side of this tree of discussion, anti delighteti, to dwell . upon yet another and more agreable branch, which took the shape of an interrogation, as to whom Mrs. Brightly would be most likely to marry, if she chose, and could marry at all. This was the most popular 1171 , 1 fruitful branch of all; it waved over a variety of eligible heads, and bore many apples of accord ! and discord; but all the town agreed upon ( one point, which was the soil which gave ! growth to this tree. They agreed that Mrs. Alice Brightly, the widowed hostess of the Pelican, would be a good match for almost any man in the village ; and they also agreed that they would watch her ac tions, so as not to be taken by surprise by anything which was coming. On her part, the youthful widow was fully conscious of being thus closely watch ed : and she kept her eyes and ears open, and her mouth closed, in conformity with her own ideas of discretion. She super attended the house-affairs with her custo mary dignity and grace; her natural ani mation tempered by her loss, though none the less hospitable to all ; and her forti tude and resignation were well supported by the youth and strength of her constitu tion. She wore her weeds calmly and without ostentation of grief, and resolved to be circumspect and taciturn regarding hor intentions and affairs. But though she might keep people from knowing, she could not prevent them from thinking and talking. Possibly she did not wish it. Certain it is, that she learned that among her suspected suitors were no less than eight men, whohad been acquain tances of her husband. There was the Rev. Mr. Sable, a young clergyman of thirty, at whose church she now attended more regularly than before ; Mr. Green more, a rich gentleman-farmer of sixty, still hale and hearty ; young Mr. Torrence the handsome barkeeper of the Pelician ; Dr. Valerian, a physician in the meridian of life : Mr. Vicegage. areal estate broker in the city ; Mr. Bullock, an extensive dealer in cattle: Mr. Carver, the thriving furniture dealer; and Mr. Flood, the whole sale dealer in wines and liquors. These all were among the frequent vis itors at the hotel—from some plausible cause or other apart from any matrimoni al purpose: and these all, equally with each other, but more than all others, ap peared to enjoy a suspectable share of the widow's confidence. They were known to have many little separate chats with her in private; but who was to tell what was the purport of these interviews ? tipenly she seemed to regard - them with charmingly impartial partiality—charm. ing for its adroitness, but perplexing from its uniformity. Mr. Torrence might be thought to have the advantage of the other seven, as he was the barkeeper, and was almost always in the house ; but then. it was optional with die others to have the favor of her society while he was en gageddown-stairs. For several months, notwithstanding her strict caution, and close observation, Mrs. Brightly remained in doubt as to the intentions of these several male acquaint ances. She had, it is true, her occasional and growing suspicions, but her uncer tainty arose from their studied evasive ness. And she soliloquized thus: " All of these men visit me with a kind of timidity I cannot fully understand.— They look almost as if they approached me by stealth, and were ashamed of it It may be that they all mean marriage, but are in doubt as to the existence of rivals. Perhaps they think it too soon for them to begin to make overtures. But though they have made none yet, I can perceive a disposition in them to sound my sentiments as to a second marriage, and to inquire about each other, as if they hoped thus to learn more of each others' relations towards me, and my opinions of them. I may be wrong, but whether they persist or not in keeping me in doubt, I shall certainly keep them in that condi tion, till such time as I think it politic to throw off all disguise." A discretion like this might well have been approved by the lamented himself , and perhaps so even if he knew the mo tive for it. But her uneasiness kept these eight men ignorant of this resolution; and this resolution was the cause of much perplexity to these eight men. And well might they be perplexed.— Here they were—they came and went— irregularly but frequently—all, to be sure, withplausible claims for some wVhy wo man's hand, and all, to be sure, equally solicitous for hers ; but circumstances bad conspired to place them in a great state of doubt. In the first place, they were in doubt as to the decency of thus running after a widow before her weeds were rusty. This of itself caused them to feel rather sheep ish, and look so on approaching her.— They felt that their object was suspected, and might be held in reproach by others besides her: they might be thought un feeling, or mercenary, or both. Then, what if the widow should still adhere to an exclusive love for the departed land lord of the Pelican ! What—and that was quite as bad for them—what if Mrs. Alice Brightly had already set her affections upon another, and had promised him both her hands, with her heart and soul in one, and all the perplexity in the other! This would be a grevious piece of information to find out, just at the moment of refusal too. It was best to be careful in this matter. Time might show. But time was long in waiting. It was a precarious state of mor tifying suspense. What if they should wait too long, and the widow should get tired, and some more impulsive being should step in, and set their doubts at rest forever in the black ditch of despair, fringed by the golden fruition of his nup tial hopes.? Here was not exactly a "widow-bewitch ed," but a widow so besieged, that if her predicament had not been peculiar, and her temperament extraordinary, there is no doubt she would have held out a sign of truce, and surrendered at discretion to somebody. But though so much was said and thought about her, much remained to be told,' and she did not choOse tell it. Was there some._ fearful, mystery, mon- . ne.nyad triritY her reparicable, retigentie •-` WaSilietelikhrOheil and hail a strange power of concealing it 7 Was she pleased THAT COUNTRY 18 TEI MOST PROSPIROUB maim LABOR COMMANDS TES ORNATE= =WARD: "- .-BUCHANAN LANCASTER CITY, PA., TUESDAY MORNING, MARCH 22, 1864. in thus being an object of constant remark and curiosity? Could it have in flated her vanity, or amused her sense of the ludicrous, to know, as she did, that the ordinary frequenters of the house, and the neighbors round about were ever more busying themselves with conjectures as to the precise meaning of her out-go ings and were-goings, and in comings and what-doings; of her casual remarks and chance glances; her purchases of whom and what; the state of her health, what she wore, with whom she corresponded, and for what particular person she did have a positive preference, and if any," how much, and within what bounds re stricted It might or it might not ; but she con ducted herself as if ignorant of these cir cumstances ; and she moved among them all, a seemingly careless paragon of won der, still bearing enough of the insignia of widowhood to show she had not forgot ten it ; and yet diversifying the black, from time to time, with such gayer colors as made perplexity do extra penance for the wearisome inquisitiveness of its fertile researches Matters regarding Mrs. Brightly and her eight evasive and undecided suitors remained in much the same state for about ten months after the Pelican had lost its landlord, when the said suitors concluded to make a change in the pro gramme of Pelican affairs, as far as they were concerned. They all thought it was high time something should be done. The slowest people, when fairly aroused, are sometimes the very quickest; and whereas, before, they had striven to keep out of each others' sight and knowledge, they now met frequently about the hotel, and did what they could to give each other to understand that there was a certain at traction at, the house which each considered it his privilege to try to possess against all comers: and that it would be indelicate, not to say dangerous, for all other comers any longer to interfere. Shrugs, coughs, looks, and tones of antipathy between them served to convey this intimation but failed to produce the desired result. Each man found seven stubborn stumbling blocks in his way ; and this induced another change of tactics. They came by degrees more courteous, interchanged mutual self-introductions, and beginning with the weather, ended with the widow. It was of 'no use, they now frankly acknowledged, to disguise their object any longer. They were all atter the widow, and they had not yet ascertainea her mind, though it must be that she understood theirs, by implication, after such long evidence of anxiety on their part. Now, therefore, it was resolv ed. that, as they had not singly been able to remove her evasiveness, one of their number should go to her, and in the name of all, entreat her to declare her preference between them. Lots were drawn, and the chosen dele gate to the lady was Mr. Bullock the cat tle dealer. And it may be regarded as a proof that that gentleman had a high rep 7 utation for his transactions in cattle, that all seemed perfectly satisfied that the lot had fallen upon him, when he was thus intrusted with a mission pregnant with such vital importance to their happiness and his at the same time. Mr. Bullock pledged his honor that he would take ❑o advantage of his opportunity as a delegate to edge in a word, or tip even a wink for himself, and repaired at once to the wid ow, leaving them in intense anxiety, in a sitting-room below, for the space of fifteen minutes. At the end of that time, he came down, with a blank visage, and they asked the "She simply says she has no preference between us. She appears very frank about it." "Between us" they cogitated. "Then we are on even grounds. But she may have a preference for somebody else—though who he can be, 1% ho knows ? Go up now, Bullock, and ask her, point-blank, as she is so communicative to-day; and to set our minds at rest, if she intends to marry any one else." "I'll do that, but of course she does." Up went Bullock, and do,vn he came "And now what?" "She says, No. She don't intend to marry anybody else." Again they discussed the reply, and Bullock was once more sent up, to solve a long mooted doubt, whether her hus band's wish and will left her free to marry again, if she should choose. Down came Bullock, and brought this " She was left free to marry, without any restriction : and says that she will not marry anybody else. Now, for God's sake, gentlemen, don't send me up again. All our hopes are blasted, and I should think that would satisfy you." But the others refused to consider themselves blasted. As the widow was free, and had no choice between them, each secretly determined to do what he could to change her intention in his favor. They separated in that hope ; and it was increased, a few days afterward, wh"en each received an invitation to a farriily party to be given by her, when, as 43he stated in the note, " she intended to as tonish him." Perhaps to accept me," each thought and all attended, looking their prettiest. The widow, they thought, never looked magnificent before, but 'she did now, and they had a gay time. But when supper was served, a demure and unobtrusive gentleman of middle age, was noticed seated next to her, at the head of the ta ble. He had been introduced to them, in the course of the evening, as Mr. Amos Early. " Ladies and gentlemen before I pour out the tea," remarked the bewitching hostess, with sparkling eyes, that outri valled the glitter of the gilt sprig on her china, "I am going to make a short speech, and astonish you as I promised. Eermit me to intrOduce to you aka& Mr. Amos Early. He is my husband." Here all the old bachelors and widow ers knocked their knees against the table. "I was married to him just one month after Mr Brightly died. Married in pri vate. I should not have been so hasty, but he wished to be sure; nor so secret, only that I wished to escape reproach till idle curiosity had been diverted from me, and the exact period of the marriage should not be too closely inquired into.— Neither should I now have had it known, had I not at last become worn out with attentions, scrutiny,and gossiping remarks on every side. My husband's recent re turn from abroad where he has been ab sent during the interim, affords me a good opportunity to make this agreeable dis closure, and ought to be also a good proof that I do not intend to marry again. I would also state," she added, scarcely able to suppress her laughter at the vari ous looks of wonder which greeted her, -that my husband, Mr. Early, will enter upon the discharge of his duties as land lord of the Pelican to-morrow ; and any renewed pledge of your patronage which you may be pleased to extend, will be 1 gratefully received by us both. And here, Sally, pass round the tea." Whatever feelings of hope deferred and now annihilated might have agitated the bosoms of the baffied ! eight, they were con cealed, and in the course of the glee which ensued, as they had not been outdone by each other, they all wished No. 9 joy of his being No. 1; and the Pelican Hotel is going on swimmingly. A STORY FOR THE LITTLE FOLKS The Student in the Mill LFROU THE GERMAN.] There were two students who were making a foot excursion through the mountains. They were gay, lively boys, and seldom troubled themselves about any of the cares of this life. One day they came to a great mill, which was kept in motion by one of the rushing mountain streams. They came around on one side and looked at the big wheel, and then they went.inside and saw the huge mill- stones grinding corn an dwheat. They in quired of the miller if that was the way to the town, which they called by name. "No, my children," answered the gray haired old man "you are ten miles from that place, and it is now nearly sunset.— You have lost your way, and it would be impossible for you to find it again so late as it now is." The students looked at each other. and were astonished to think they had missed the way. What could they now do?— They were very hungry and tired, and this was the only place where they could stop through the night, unless they slept out of doors. The old miller was very kind-hearted, but was very particular about the mill. He was afraid to have anybody go through it and in tefere with the machinery. Seeing the difficulty in which the stu dents were placed, he said to them, I never like to have strangers in my mill. My family live in one corner of it, where I have three or four good comfortable rooms. I have been miller here for thir ty-four years, and no accident has ever happened since I nave been in the mill. The proprietor says that I shall have the place until I die, unless I neglect my bu siness. I will not ask you to stay all night without you promise to do just as I tell you. Sleep where I put you, obey every word I say, and you will go'away to-mor row morrow morning happier than when you came. Do you think you can do as I say ? I know that boys are often very meddlesome and troublesome. They are very apt to wish to attend to their own business and somebody else's too. What say you? Will you obey my rules for the night? Depend upon it, you will not suf fer if you do as I tell you." " What kindness !" exclaimed the stu dents. They were delighted to think they had a kind friend when tired and hungry and without a I>lace to sleep Of course they were very willing to sub mit to any rule he might lay down for them. So they consented to obey him, if he would only keep them in the mill through the night. The old miller's wife soon got them a good supper—fresh milk, cheese, bread, and some venison! How they enjoyed it ! They were as happy as they could be. They ate all they wanted, and thanked the miller, for supplying them so liberally. " Don't thank me, my children," he re plied; " I am not the one to whom you should be grateful. It is God who has blessed you. I am only the instrument of his mercy. Now when you retire to bed you must thank him. Your bed is ready. I will give you a little room near by the place where the water falls. It will be noisy all night, but you are tired, and I think you will sleep very well." The students thanked him for his kind ness. When he gave them a little lamp and opened their bed-room door, he said to t them ; " You must not enter a closet which you will find in your room. You have all you want to eat; your bed is soft and com fortable; you shall have your breakfast in ' the morning, if God pleases to spare our lives. Another word I have to say to you; and that is that you must not come out of your room to-night. You are in per fect safety here, and you must not venture out. The reason why T never like to en tertain people is that they will not obey our rules. A mill is a bad place for com pany. Good night!" And the students said "Good-night" to the old gray-haired miller. When he had left them, they commenced conversation about their host. He was a very plain looking yet a very wise old man. They seemed to be inspired with great respect for him. " How comfortable is this little room !" said Herman to Heinrich. "Oh, yes, comfortable enough," replied Heinrich, " but 1 am in the habit of sleeping in a much larger one at home.— Then this isnething but a very plain pine wood bedstead, while my own bedstead is made of rosewood-. This is only a com- mon husk mattrass,- and I am itithe habit of, sleeping on a hair matrass. Look, too, at this old stone pitcher and bowl My bowl and pitcher are of the finest china ware,and have beautiful pictures all round them." " Well, but this is much better than'--1 sleeping Out of doors? How very kind the old man is to give us even a shelter for the night. A barn would be better than nothing, and certainly this is a much better place to sleep in than a barn."— Thus spoke Herman, who was a grateful boy, while a great fault of his companion was ingratitude. Then there was silence for some time' The boys got ready for bed. But Hein rich began to think about the old man's command not to look in the closet, and not to go outside of the door all night.— Still he did not tell what he was thinking about to Herman. He knew if he spoke of it to his friend, he would be answered in some such way as this: "Let us do all the old miller says. We promised to obey him. He has his reasons for the orders he gave us. We are dependent on him for our lodging and breakfast, and it is the least we can do to obey him and go to sleep." So Heinrich did not tell his thoughts to Herman. Now I will tell you what Heinrich thought about when he went to bed : "I will now lie down here until Herman gets to sleep; then I will get up, light the lamp, and try to open that closet. It may be that there is something very valuable in it, and how badly I would feel to be told when I leave here that there was a great deal of money in the closet and I failed to get it. Besides this, I want to go through the mill and look at the machin ery. I never saw a mill before. I have often heard of them, but never knew how to grind corn and wheat. But I have only seen a little of this one, and I think it is much better for me to go all through it, and then I shall know all about mills , hereafter. lam sure there is no danger. With these thoughts he determined that he would find out what was in the closet, and then go all through the mill. Fer man was soon fast asleep. He slept as calm ly as he had ever done before. He had no bad thoughts in his mind, and was de termined to obey the miller. As soon as his companion found him asleep, he arose and lighted the lamp. He turned down the wick very low, so that he would not be in danger of awakening any one by ' the light. Then he silently put his clothes on. He looked at the closet door and found it was locked. Something seemed to say to him, "Now, Heinrich, go to bed again. You have no need of anything. Why should you disturb the old miller's closet? if you find anything very valua ble you might be tempted to take it. Go to bed again. it was his conscience speaking to hint. He held the light and wondered what to do. He wanted to know what was in the closet, and yet he knew it was most honorable for him to go to bed. There he stood deliberating. It was a bad moment in his history. He had better have been sleeping out of doors t.him hesitating whether to enter that closet or not. Fi nally he concluded that it might be very much to his advantage to get in it. But where could he find the key? He looked in every corner of the room but could not find it. Finally he tried his own bunch of keys, but not one of them would fit the lock. What should he do? So he said : "I will see if Herman has not a key that will fit it." That was a bad thing for him to think, even, but he no sooner thought it than he strove to carry out his resolu tion. He quietlylifted up Herman's pan taloons, put his hand in the pocket, and took out his bunch of keys without mak ing them jingle. . • "As sure as I live," he inwardly said, "that one fits the lock of the closet as well as if it had been made for it !" The door opens and creaks a little as it comes back. Herman turns over in his bed, but does not wake up. Suddenly Heinrich sees on the highest shelf a silver box about as large as a cigar box. It shone very bright and when the light of the lamp came against it the reflection was very strong. The key was in the box, and Heinrich opened it. It was almost full of gold ! His heart heat quick. "Now, what wealth I have gained by my getting into the clos et! Suppose I had gone to sleep as Her man has done, I would never have been so well off as I now am." He then began to empty the box. He put much of the gold in his knapsack ; then a good share of it in his pockets ; but finding these places not large enough, he cut a hole in the lining of his coat and put the balance in there. Not finding any thing more of value in the closet, he lock ed the lid of the closet door, then put the key back in Herman's pocket. He had succeeded well thus far. The question was now to get a good look at the mill. So he quietly opened the door, and began to walk through the great rooms where the grain was, and up the high stairs. He went to the most danger ous places, and it was only by the mercy of - a kind Heavenly Father that he was preserved from falling and losing his life. He had gone through, nearly every part of the mill, and as he was about re turning to the room again, he put his hand upon a little beam, and, behold ! the wheels began to roll around and the mill-stones to revolve. There was a noise and rumbling all through the mill. He did not know that what he had touched with his hand was the spring that sets the mill going. He was now frightened very much. He usually had much presence of mind, but the other act that he had done took away his calmness, and he ran off to his room as fast as be could. Soon he was in ; the light was put out, and he was in bed. Herman roused up a little, but did not know what was going on around him. " What is the matter ?" said he to Heinrick, who was beside him. Oh, nothing, I think, unless the old miller has taken the notion to grind corn and wheat while other people are fast asleep." So replied the boy whom Satan had tempted to sin. Soon the old miller was up. He did not know what was the trouble. He was very' much agitate 4 and so he said to his wife : " I fear we have taken bad boys with us to-night." He went off to the place where he usually stopped the mill when in motion, and finding the crank turned the wrong way he pulled it right.- Soon all the wheels went slow, and by-and by they stood still as the mountains around. What are these things that I see ?" said the old miller, as he stooped down and picked up two pieces of gold money which lay cn the floor near where he stood. He recognized them as some of his own property—a portion of his hard earnings. That silver-box was a present from his father, and the money in it was all the profits that he had gathered through life. He was troubled, but he went to bed again. He thought he would let the stu dents sleep, as they had walked a great distance that day. But Heinrich slept little. His two mean acts took away sleep from his eyelids. Next morning at the breakfast-table the old miller asked a blessing on the food, and prayed the Lord ,to bless all who sin ned, whether young o '. r•o_1(1. It touched Heinrich's heart, and he could not sit still with any composure to himself. Then when the two students turned their plates up, behold a piece of gold under each out Herman looked astonished and smiled as he saw it. But when Heinrich saw the piece that was under his plate he blushed all over his face. Even his ears were almost as red as blood. Any body could see in a moment that.he felt condemned. The old miller saw his blushes, and so did his wife, but they said nothing. After breakfast the miller said to Hein rich, " I need not tell you about the sin you committed last night. You remem ber it well enough yourself. Why should you try to wrong an old man as you have wronged me? Have I ever injured you? Let me urge you to turn your back upon your sins. I wish my money restored at once, or you shall be placed in the com mon prison. There must be no delay." The money was all given up, save the pieces he had lost when going through the mill. Herman was astounded when he saw how guilty his companion was. He could hardly believe his own eyes. As they went of together they conversed about the matter. It was then that Hein rich confessed that the faigianiag jai his sing was in yelling up and standing benire tire closet door and deliberating over the ;natter. His er ror was in harboring the first. thought of sinning. When Satan suggested that wicked thing to him, he should have in]; mediately thought about something else. Then be would soon have fallen asleep, and the temptation would have passed oil. The old miller forgave him; and God afterwards forgave him too; but memory of that sin was bitter all through life. Now if there is one of my young friends who wishes to live with a clear conscience, and have the world's esteem when he gets old, he must not encourage bad thoughts. Think about something better, and ask God to give you power to overcome it. A rum suggestioncalling a man q Because you can't get all you want, don't neglect what you can get. Squeeze out of the world all the juice there is in it A myrtle among nettles is still a myr tle. When the shepherd is angry with the sheep, he sends them a blind guide. Be very lowly, humble in spirit ; for man is a worm, and his ambition vanity. There are four kinds of readers,—the sponge, the funnel, the strainer, the sieve. The sponge sucking up all ; the funnel taking in at one end and letting out at another; the strainer separating the wine from the lees ; the sieve dividing the bran from the fine flour. We do not die wholly at one death ; we have mouldered away long before. Fac ulty after faculty, interest after interest, at. tachment after attachment disappear ; we are torn from ourselves while living ; year after year sees us no longer the same, and death only consigns the last fragments of what we were to the crave. SLEEP " God bless the man who first invented sleep So Sancho Panza said, and so say I ; And bless him also that he didn't keep llis great discovery to himself; or try To make it —as the lucky fellow might— A close monopoly by "patent right!" Yes—bless the man who first invented sleep, (I really can't avoid the iteration ;) But blast the man, with curses loud and deep ,Whate'er the rascal's narfie, or age , or station Who first invented, and went roun d advising, The artificial cut-off—"early rising !" " Rise with the lark and with the the lark to bed,' Observes some solenin, sentimental owl, Maxims like these are very cheaply said; But ere you make yourself a fool or fowl, Pray just inquire about their rise—and fall, And whether larks have any beds at all ? The " time for honest folks to be abed" Is in the morning, if I reason right And he who cannot keep his precious head Upon his pillow till it's fairly light, And so enjoy his forty mornine. winks, Is up—to knavery; or else—h drinks ! Thomson, who sung about the " Seasons," said, It was a glorious thing to rise in season ; But then be said it—lying—in his bed At ten o'clock A. H. thevery reason He wrote so charmingly. The simple fact is, His preaching wasn't sanctioned by his, practice 'Tie, doubtless, well, to be sometimes awake— Awake to duty and awake to truth— But when. alas ! a nice review we take Of our best deeds and days. we find, in Booth The hoUrs that leave the slightest cause to weep Are those we passed in childhood, or—asleep ! 'Tis beautiful to leave the World awhile, For the soft visions of the gentle night; And free, at last, from mortal care and guile To live, as only in the angels' sight, In sleep's sweet realms so cosily shut in, Where, at the worst, we only dream of sin So let ue sleep, and give the Maker praise. I like the lad who, when his father thought To clip his morning nap by hackneyed phrase Of vagrant worm by early songster caught, Cried" Served him right ! it's not at all surprising The worm was punished, sir, for early rising." [John G. Saze. UNITED STATES STAMP TAXES IM POSED BY THE ACT OF 1867, Pub Untied for the convenience of STORE-KEEPERS, BEROBANTS, BROKERS, LAWYERS, CONVEYANCERS and the public generally, on a large neat card showing at glance, the ainonnt of dilty on tax to be paid. Price 26 cants. For sale by J. N. WESTHAEFFER, No. 44, Corner of North Queen and Orange streets. oet 7 tf iITEBSTER AND HA lirNE'S •VV speeches In the United States Senate, on Mr. °et's resolution of Jannary.lB3o. also, Webster's speech In the U.S. Senate, March 7th, 1850, "On the Slavery Com Pro• m 186." For sale at J. M. WFSTELABIFRIt'S Jan 28 tf i Cheap Book Store. TEE LANOASTEH.INT,ELL IGENOIII3I JOB PRINTEN4 ESTABUSIMENT, No. 8 NORTH DUKE STREET, LANCASTER, PA. The Jobbing Department le thoroughly punished with new and elegant type of every deectiption, anal, under the charge of a practical and experienced' Job Printer ' The Proprietors are prepared to PRINT OHEOKS, • NOTES, LEGAL BLANKS, CARDS AND clecimmus, BILL HEADS AND HANDBILLS, PROGRAMMES AND POSTERS, PAPER BOOKS AND PAMPHLETS, BALL TICKETS AND INVITATIONS, PRINTING IN COLORS AND PLAIN PRINTING, with neatness, accuracy and dispatch, on the most ressonlo, ble terms, and in a manner not excelled by any eshibliah• ment in the city. 11W- Orders from a distance, toy mail or , otherwise' promptly attended to. Address GEO. SANDEEtSON A SON, Intelligencer Cdflos i No. 8 North Duke street, Lancaster, Pa. SHIPPING FURS, SHIPPING FURS, WANTED. SWAM! MINK, RED FOR, GREY FOX, RACCOON, OPOSSUM, MUSKRAT, ' SKUNK, HOUSE OAT, RABBIT, !to. For which the highest market prices will be paid in Clash at the HAT STORE of • • • -swam 6880, feb 16 tf 6J No. 20 North Queen Street, Leinpastel7. "THERE 18 AO SUOH WOW) AS FALL" - - TARRANT'S COMPOUND EXTRACT OF CUBEBS AND 00PAIRA. • : This preparation is particularly recommended to the Medical Profession and the Public, for the prompt ind certain cure of DISEASES OF THE BLADDER, KIDNEYS, URINARY ORDANS, ETU. It may be relied on as the beet mode for the adrainietrs• tion of these remedies in the largo elarorof disealeO of both sexes, to which they are applicable. It never interferes with the digestion, and by its conoentration ' thee 'doiii' much reduced. N. B.—Purchasers are advised to ask for Tarrant's COnt pound Extract of Cubebs and Oopaiha, and legre nothing else, as Imitations and worthless preparations, tindOV Simi lar names, are in the market, Prim $1:00.. Sec* ,by ex press on receipt of price. Manufactured only by TARRANT & CO. No. 278 Greenwich Street, cor of Warren SE, New York, AND FAR SALE ..Y DRUGGISTS GENERALLY. 0,113 . - 1/3' s ONLETIIING 'NNW IN PHILADXIL PHIA. COOPXR' PIiOTOGRAPLISC AND ART GALLERY, No. 1338 CUZOTNUT STETS; Opposite U. 8. Mint. GALLERY, RECEPTION AND OPERATING ROOMS ALL ON FIRST FLOOR. All styles and sires of Photographs, Iverytypes, Ferro types or ‘i Tintypes," and taken at prices to snit the times. Pictures Finished in Water Calera, Oil, India Ink and Pastil. Horses and other animals, Equipages, Country Beata, Ruins, Models of liffichinery, d.c., for Patenting accurately photographed. P. F. Cooper desires to call the attention of persona Philadelphia to hie new Ground Floor Gallery, where he has introduced newly-patented cameras, capable oftak ing, in a few seconds, one hundred Photographs, from the small stamp or autographic, to the Imperial and Life Elise. After many experiments he has succeeded in placing his sky-light at an improved angle, diffusing the light In equal proportions, and producing that soft gradation of tone which cannot be given by the side and Sky-lights generally need, and which is of much importance It) the beauty of a picture. It is made of French glass, and is the-largest in Philadelphia. liSr. Cooper has been engaged more than twenty years in the study and practice of the Fine Arts. ills long eiperri mace as a Miniature and Portrait Painter is a sufficient guarantee for the perfection of the pictures made at his estaolishment. The art et idealizing io well understood ; none hut the moot stilts! artists aro employed in the respective depsxt. meta,. Pictures Warranted :—the Ivorytypes Will not change in any climate, and will stand the test of acids. Particu lar attention la paid to giving graceful and easy positions. Daguerreotypes and all other kinds, of pictures copied, from small medallion to life sizo, and finished In colors of Indian Ink. to look equal to pictures taken front life. This Gallery possesses rare facilities for taßing Eques trian Pictures from life, in the rear building, where from one to fifty horses can be photographed at a time. N. El.—fo PIIOTOGRAPIIERS, COLORISTS AND OTIIE.H.S. JUST ISSUED.—A. WORK ON PHOTOGRAPH COLORING,: IFORYTYPING, ENAMALLING, IVORY MINIATURE PAINTING, efe. Compete itintriietions given for making Ivorytypee, with some valuable receipts, never before published, use ful to all photographers, for one of which a large sum has been oflered. By fullowin; the directions contained in thin book, even those persons with no previous knowledge of Painting cannot fall to color photographs in a beautiful and effective style. rice, One Copy, $6 00, Five Copies, $20.00. By remit ag $1 . 2. ono copy, with Boa of Paints,. Palates, Brushes, and preparations complete will be be furnished free of charge. WILL BB PUBLISHED SHORTLY, A VALUABLE. WORK ON DRAWING With progressive Illustrations of the Human Face and Figure. ALSO, A HAND—BOOK ON POSITIONS, With Illustrations. Designed for the use of Photographers et==l Mr. Cooper continnes to receive Ladies and Gentlemen into hie Olasies for Instruction to Drawing, and Photo graph, Ivoryty pas, India ink and Pasta Painting, and a beautiful process for Enameling Pictures. Circular containing list of prices of pletares and farther information respecting the Books and Terms of Instruc tion may be had by enclosing Post 011 ice Address and a Stamp to P. F. cooyza, 1388 Chestnut .13treet, Philadelphia. REFERENCES Caleb Cope, President Academy of Fine Arts. Dr. Thos. B. Wilson, Ornithologist and Entomologist Rev. Thomas Miles Martin, P. E. Church. Hon. Victor A. Sartori, Consul of Leghorn. Robert G. Clarkson, of Firm of Jay Cooke & Co. New York, Bev. W. A. Maybin, Rect. St. Alban's Church Boston, J. E. Tilton & Co. Worcester, 41,a s., P. Dodge, Esq. Baltimore, Mona. Amesiee Sauvan, French Canstd. dec 15 TTHREE HUNDRED INVALIDS, have been cured since November, 1882, by. the mi ens modifications of Electricity as applied at the Electrical Institute on Orange street, between Duke and Lime streets, Lancaster, Pa. NOT ONE OERTIBIOATE has been published since the Electrical Institute has been established in Lancaster, but this system of practice has been left to oink or swim upon ITS OWN MERITS, Borne of the most respectable and substantial citizens of Lancaster county, have been treated and cured, as can be seen by reference to themselves, or the books of the Institute. =CI of every kind have been treated anecdotally, and fa a number of instances, after all other systems and medicines had failed, and the individuals had been pronounced In curable and GIVEN UP TO DIE Pulmonary Consumption, Liver Diseases, Diabetic, Piles, Dyspepsia, Catarrh, Paralysis, Hemiplegikand Paraplegia, Ilemeopia, Aphonia, Laryngitis, Trachellarmfas, and all diseases of the throat and vocal organs, Bronchitis and Pleuritic, Neuralgia, Sciatic, Spinal weakness, Epilepsy, when arising from functional disturbance of the Organism; Chorea or St. Vitus Dance, complaints incident to/amides, and especially PHOLAP81:18 UTERI or falling down of the Uterus, can be permanently cured, and all nervous affections yield to the action 'of the Gal vanic nod Electric currents, when properly andirsi One would be led to suppose, from the practscal demon 'stratiou given of the wonderfalleeling properties of Gal vanism in the above diseases, that Its efficacy as a Thera peutic would be doubted by no one, and yet we occasional ly come across an individual who will not belleve,.eimply because the Medical Faculty, as a general thing, have not taken hold of it, to them we would ray that there is hard ly a Braithwaites Retrospect published but what refers to the healing properties of Electricity, and that if the faculty understood more about it they would prefer it to all other remedies, also, that some of the beet Phy fliCialla in the United !Rates have adopted it. Hereafter, however, in order to gratify all, there will be at the Insti tute an etch:writ Physician of FORTY YEARS ACTUAL PRACTICE, and we cordially Invite the diseased of all dame. to call and examine into the merits of this system, as consulta tion and advice, together with pamphlets, will 'be given Poet of Charge. G E W. FREED, Medical Electrician Orange street, b.tween Duke and Lime sireets, oet 27 if 421 Lancaster, Pa. "THERE IS NO SUCH WORD AS HAIL! TARRANT'S COMPODAD Exli&eat or OUBEBS AND COP4I.BA This preparation is particularly recommended to the MEDICAL PROFESSION and the PUBLIC, as combining, in the most convenient and effizaelons balk the well established virtues and properties of Cubeba and Oopalba. For the speedy and effectual relief and cure of all SBXUAL DISEASES, it may I batty be considered one of the, greatest and most valuable discoveries in the annals' of medicine, frequently effecting a cure in three or fel:W.omi.; Ixt site preparation as an extract or a paste, the usual nauseous taste is avoided, and it is, consequently,: - Peter ibbrid to interfere with the digestion, while from its greater op• centrstion, the dose is much reduced. It may be relied on ax the best mode for the administration of these remedies in the large class of diseases; of both Sexes to which they are applicable. - • . • N. 13.—Purchaaers ace advised to ask for TARRANT'S COMPOUND =TRACT OF OUTINBIS" AND COPAIBA, and to take nothing else—as imitations and eniittliess preparations, =den similar names, are ;ha . the market. Pamphlets accompany the medicine, contaLnlng foil and ample direction s.Price, $l.OO. Sent by ecePrees =receipt of' Prepared and sold wholesale and retail, by PstiRECANT.* 0 Q . No. 278 GRIMM= STMT.% OORNII. 07 • W6LlLit Mims!, NEW YORK, And For dale by Druggists Generally. ly la HE BODOGOBIB.. . TThis wonderful article, Piet patented, i _ii something entirely new, and never.bifor• offered to sprite, winntre wanted everywhere. Pull particulars seat wet 4 lv 121 171 U RN IT UMW. Or ITIOLY raciscag,ip r Hop, warranted as good as the beet, arid theaparitirm the cheapest—at SETOH'EI,. NOW= Quw trimitelop posite Sheltie's National House, Lancaster. , • • • N. B. To any one purchasing $6O worth battrithelnit of November next 10 per cent. will be allowed err 'Dash. ens 81 tf 88 -- . ~•;~. NO. 11.