A. J. GERRITSON, Publisher.
FOR THE DEMOCRAT.
Ite Great Conflict Between Democra
cy and Abolitionism, or the War
Upon President Johnson.
When the Chief Magistrate of this na
tion is publicly arraigned on a charge of
unexampled treachery towards the par
ty whom he owes his election," Justice
demands an investigation of the charges,
before a verdict of condemnation is awar
ded against him. Among the most bit
ter enemies of President Johnson, now
stands one, who, but a few weeks ago, was
holding up his policy before the people,
a worthy of admiration and hearty appro
val. On the 4th of October last, John
W. Forney, wrote as follows: "At the
great Baltimore Convention which nomi
nated Abraham Lincoln for re ekc;ion,
and Andrew Johnson of Tennessee for
vice President, all the doctrines known
as radical were debated and disposed of
by that great high court of the union par
ty. Not a single doctrine like that of de
grading the States into Territories, or
that of exceptionless confiscation—or that
of making the issue of the question of uni
versal suffrage upon the States, was en
endorsed, or even hinted at, in the plat
form, which had been first carefully con
sidered, and finally adopted with tumul
tuous unanimity by the delegates. Here
was the very question which must come
up in the next Congress as it came up in
the last, viz; Whether States which have
duly cleansed themselves of secession, and
honorably accepted the conditions of the
Government, and sending Senators and
representatives to Washington competent
to obey the conditions of the oath should
lie rehabilitated with all the rights and
franchises of their free equals, and wheth
er the Senators and Representa!ives
should be admitted into the National
council chambers ? An article from the
Nashville Union deserves our careful re
ff.Ttion. It says :
" 'zturne of the men who dissent from the F resident's
of reorganization. charge him with abandoning
the principles and policy of the party which elected
Sim. such a charge is without foundation. The party
awn elected him was not the Republican party prop
er but a national Union party. composed of Republi•
rAns, Dernoerats, Abolitionists, and others whose views
r.incided in regard to the prosecution of the war. The
tAea of treating the rebel States after the suppression of
the rebellion, as Territories. and denying them repre
saltation in Congress until they conferred political
equality on the freedmen. formed no part of the bond
which held them together. Had such a proposition
been .ncorporated in the Baltimore platform. Lincoln
and Johnson would bare been defeated, and the nation
to dtr, under the administrationof McClellan and Pen
dleton: "
On the 28th of September, Mr. Forney
says:
No statesman who watches the pro
gress of public affairs, fails to" ask himself
whether had Abraham Lincoln lived, he I
would have pursued the course which is
unquestionably the sincere, if not the set•
tied policy of Andrew Juhtison. It, is in-
structi% e, as we trace the career of the'
departed President, to see how little
the part iz in pervaded his action, and how
much of I I;e indulgent and forgiving phi-',
lauthropi:t. He did nothing in anger,
and was disposed to treat the offerider
with mercy, rather than to respond to the I
loud cry for vengeance. It is not unjust I
to either side to say that Abraham Lin
rola never really came up to the exoecta.
boos of what are called the 'earnest men,'
and that his very last utterance, was an
unconscious Criticism of their counsel,
and an undoubted difference from their
policy. This utterance was his speech'
from the window of the white House on
the 11th of April three days before he
died. Let us then, as we contemplate
the reconstruction policy of Andrew John
son, do so in the luminous light of Abra
ham Lincoln's example."
Andrew Johnson says : " The war of
these radicals is not simply upon me, but
upon my predecessor also,
whose policy
lam now pursuing." Mr. Forney admits
that the very last utterances of President,
Lincoln was an undoubted difference and
condemnation of the policy of the radicals,
and also that the convention at Baltimore
villa nominated him for President, and
Andrew Johnson for vice President, dis
carded the doctrines of the radicals, or the
Abolitionists.
Notwithstanding all this he glories now
in having deserted PresidentJohnson,who
was carrying oat the policy of his prede
cessor and the party which elected him,
and joined himself to the party which be
has often declared " hated President Lin
coln," and of which Wendell Phillips
whom he pronounced " a traitor in his ve
ry soul"is the acknowledged leader. Now
when the President pronounces Wendell
Phillips and his followers in Congress,
Traitors, Forney exclaims, "what do.
I see? Andrew . Johnson, in front of the
Presidential mansion, denouncing leading
patriots as traitors."
And yet this man had told the people
long before that President Lincoln made
a speech from the window of the White
House concerning these same men, whom
he might as well have called by the name
of traitor, as to say that be differed from
their policy, for if Abraham Lincoln was a
patriot those who differed from his policy,
and obstructed the restoration of the Un
ion were traitors.
Forney says in the article quoted above,
"It was • scarcely within the scope
of President Lincoln's argument to sup
pose that the obstacle to the restoration
of the practical relons' between the
seceded States and the Government would .
come from without these States, from
those States which bad been contending
to bring these sections back to their pro
per place, and thus restore the
And yet; Mr. Forney is now among
those who have been fighting under the
pretence of contending for the Union and
who now declare the Union dissolved.—
President Johnson says to the people of
the North :
" You denied that any State could go
wit of the Union. The issue was made
and it was settled that the States bad
neither the right nor the power to go out
of the Union ; with what consistency can
any one now turn round and assume that
they are out, and that they shall not. come
in ?"
In the Press of April 2d, Mr. Forney
says:
" President Johnson denounces the ac
tion
of the radical majority in Congress
as revolutionary. Notwithstanding his
repeated assertions that he does not in
tend to take one step backward, he is be- I
ginning to be pretty well convinced that
there are men in Congress as decided as
1 ,
himself, and a little more so."
That the President is right in denoun
cing the nmjority in Congress as revolu
tionary, is proven by Gen. Martindale one
of the Republican speakers in the last
New Jersey campaign. He says:
"The policy of the Republican party is
a revoultionary policy ; as radical as that
which dethroned the Bourbons—more
radical than that which brought the head
of Charles Ito the block. That policy is
beyond the researche'S of statesmanship.
It cannot be carried forward alone by the
civil power; it. demands the presence of
that military power which achieved the
victory."
That policy as we have seen was to I could get an apple or something that
I make the President a military dictator, I would stay my appetite, till I telt in the
and hold the South under a military des- : humor for begging. Passing round the
potism. What was the revolutionary pol- 1 corner of a public street, I saw a genteel
icy that, dethroned the Bourbons, and • looking man standing at his horse's head,
who were the radicals that dethroned lazing about him, somewhat perplexed.
them ? Robespierre, Damon, Marat, Bris- i " Boy," he cried out, " won't, you take
sot, and the other Jacobins of France, • care of my horse for half an hour ?"
brought around the horrors of the French "Yes, sir," said I.
revolution, and dethroned the Bourbons I I think it was the first time I had ever
by cutting off the head of Louis XVl,one i put on the " sir." '
of the mildest monarchs that ever sat up- " There's a man l" he exclaimed. " I've
on a throne. Napoleon dethroned his got considerable fruit,and you must guard
successor, Louis XVIII, and became the io. well. Here's a couple of peaches for
miliiary dictator over France. President you ; just stand here quietly—l guess no-
Johnson refused to become a military de- body will disturb you."
.spot, and besought Congress to maintainlle went away, and I stood for a while
the Cl nil lull ion and restore the Union till I was tired. Then, thinks I, I'll get a
founded by Washington and our patriot handful of the fruit and run. But for the
fathers. They therefore raised the cry " l e t first time I felt an instinct of shame at the
Andrew Johnson be crushed before the suggestion. "He trusted me—he saw
wheels of revolution." I was a mean looking fe ll ow, but he trust
_ _
The people remember that the revoln
tionibts of France were enemies both to
Gen. Washinuton and Gen. Lafayette.—
They said Washinolon in the person of
Gen. Lafayette shall not dictate to us the
policy of France. They denounced him
as a traitor, and ordered to the guillotine
the LoAotn friend of Washington. Sus
tain President Johnson against a revolu-
tinnary Congress, and you sustain Gen
Lafayette who fought for your liberties
by the side of the father of our country.
Uphold Congress against the President,
and you uphold Robespierre and the Ja-
cobins of France, who were condemned
by Jefferson and Washington, and be
came enemies of your own patriotic ances
tors who fought and died for American
Liberty.
1::::I=1
EARLY Rtstsc.—Early rising gives long
days, invigorating light in abundance, and
healthy .;peeks. This beautiful passage
from Bulwer's Cax tons, is worthy of per.
petual remembrance :
" I was an early riser. Happy the man
who is ! Every morning comes to him
with a virgin's love, full o bloom and pu
rity and freshness. The gladness of a
happy child I doubt if any man can be
called" old" as long as he is an early ri
ser and an . early walker. And youth !
take my word for it—youth in dressing
gown and slippers, dwadling over break
fast at noon, is a very decrepit, ghastly
image of the youth which sees the sun
blush over the mountains and the dews
sparkle upon blossoming hedge rgws."
FRANKLIN COUNTY.—The Valley Spirit
says The result of the spring elections
in the county is most gratifying to the
Democracy. We hare elected thirteen
judges of election out of twenty three,
with majorities in the aggregate amount
ing to 225—a gain of 359 on the rote of
last fall. Hurrah for the " greenspot !"
This is indeed a brilliant opening of the
gubernatoFial campaign.
Scholar, a bald man, and a barber,
traveling together, agreed each to watch
four hours at night in turn, for the sake
of security. The barber's lot came first,
who shaved the 'scholar's head when
asleep? then waked. him when his turn
came. The scholar scratching his bead,
and feeling it. bald, exclaime d : " You
wretch of a barber, you have waked the
bald man instead of me !" •
—Somebody has found out a new way
of taking pictures, by which they can be
bettet.,taiten in the night than in the day
title... A photograper has missed several
from ihe frames that hang by, his door,
- and doesn'trapprove of the new plan.
MONTROSE, PA., TUESDAY, APRIL 17, 1866.
THE MISER'S STORY.
I was born in England. I remember
nothing but poverty, stalking crime and .
absolute want. The houses where I lived
were all in various stages of filth and de
cay. Whether the blear-eyed old man
who kicked and commanded me was my
father, I never knew. Whether the old
woman who sometimes fed and oftener
beat me, was my mother, I cannot say.—
All that I know is, that I had a miserable
drag-about life of it, going round after
cold victuals—knocking smaller boys
down to get the contents of their broken
baskets, and hunting for rags in the gut
ter.
I suppose I was a rather good-looking
boy ; they call me good-look 4 ng now, for
an old man. I know I was smart, compa
ring myself with children as I see them.
Of course I was like the rest of my class.
1 could fight a little, and swear a little,
steal a little, and eat a good deal—that is
when I got the chance, which was seldom.
I was ignorant—didn't know one letter
from another, and didn't want to. What
did I care about education—l, never saw
a book from one year's end to another?
And love—gratitude—hope—l could of
I course understand neither. Nobody bad
ever made me grateful—had ever held out
! hope to me. Some strange impulse was
given me one day. I waked up, sprang
from my bundle of straw, and involunta
rily the words came from my lips—"l'm
going to do something to-day." What
that something was I had not the retno
test idea, but I put on my apologies for
clothes, and sallied out in my vagabond
way, whistling, caring for nobody.
It wai about noon, and I had not yet
tasted a mouthful of food. I was hungry,
and skulked about grocery shops, hoping
ed me, and I won't abuse his kindness."
Something like this reasoning ran in
my head, and I squatted down on the
curbstone, feeling the importance of an
honorable trust, as I had never felt such a
thing before. Presently some of my fel
lows came along and hailed me. I told
them to go on. They peered about the
cart, and saw the sunny faces of the peach
es. -
" We'll have of them," they said.
" No, you won't," says I. "I'm put in
charge here, and I wou't see the first
thing stole."
With that they began a rumpus. They
reached over the cart. I struck them,
and used such efforts that they all came
pell-mell upon me, and we fought till the
blood came, but I vanquished them. Just
then out came the proprietor.
"what's the matter ?" said he.
" 0, nothing, only I had to fight for
your stuff there," said I.
" You did, eh ? You've got a black
eye for it."
"No matter," says I. "I meaht those
boys shouldn't steal a peach, and
they didn't."
" Well, you've got good pluck, my boy;
here's a dollar for you—but don't swear."
My eyes stood out.
" A whole dollar !" says L
"Yes, do what you please with it, but
I would advise you to buy a pair of shoes."
" Thank you," says I, with a beating
heart ; " it pays to be good, don't it ?"
He smiled a curious smile, asked me
several questions, and ended by taking
me home with him in his wagon.
Home! I thought I was in heaven, al
though I had seldom beard of such a
place. My 'heart beat heavily every time
I dared to put my feet upon those rich
carpets. The mirrors were• something
new to me.
The next day there came a man to see
me. I was washed clean, and had a good
suit of clothes. Says he—
" Youngster, I'm going in where you
live, and probably I shall make a bargain
with your people. I want a boy just
such a bold, clever boy as you are, and if
you behave yourself I promise you that
you shall have as .pleasant a home as you
desire."
Well, that was good. I hardly dared
to speak, to breathe, for fear of breaking
the illusion. I never was so happy clear
through as I was that day. They gave
me some .light tasks to do—l wished
they were more important.
From that day I was treated as one of
the household. The man was a widow
er, and had no children, consequently I
became to him as a son. He educated me
handsomely, and when I was twenty-one`
be died, and li ft ma seventeen thousand
dollars.
Well, I considered myself a rich man.,
I gloated over my wealth ; it became an i
idol to me. How to increase it was my I
first desire. I consulted competent men, 1
and under their counsel I put my money
out at interest—bought stock and mort
gages. I grew wealthier; my business
(my benefactor had stocked me a fancy
store) prospered, and I was in a fair way,
I thought, to marry Lucy Manning.
Sweet Lucy Manning 1 the most artless,
winning maiden in all the world to me. I
loved her deeply, dearly. She was blue
eyed, auburn haired--her disposition was
that of an angel, and I had plighted my
vows to her.
One night I was invited to the house of
a prosperous merchant, and there I met a
siren in the person of his niece, a black
eyed girl, whose charms and whose for
tune were equally splendid ! She was an
heiress in her own right—she was beauti
ful and accomplished. Heavens ! what a
voice was hers—pure, clear, sweet, rav•
ishing. I was charmed and she was pleas
, ed with me.
Alas I met her too often. In her pres
ence I forgot my gentle Lucy ; she mag
netized, thrilled me. It was a triumph to
feel, that so beautiful, gifted and wealthy
a woman loved me—me, who had been
brought up in the purlieus of a city—who
bad known misery and corruption all the
first years of my life.
Gradually I broke off my intimacy with
Lucy. I received no token from her—
she was too proud. Bat that, cheek grew
pale—that heavenly eye languid—and al
though I seldom met her, I knew in my
heart that she was suffering, and branded
myself a villian.
At last she knew with certainty that I
was to marry Miss Bellair. She sent me
a letter, a touching letter, not one word
of upbraiding, not one regret! Oh, what
a noble soul I wounded ! And she could
calmly wish me joy, although the effort
made her heart bleed. I knew it did.
I tried, however, to forget her, but, I
could not. Even at the time of my mag
nificent wedding, when my bride stood
before radiant in rich fabrics and glitter.
ing diamonds, the white face of poor Lu
cy glided in between, and made my heart
throb guiltily.
06, how rich I grew ! Year after year
added to My gold. My miserly disposi
sition begateto manifest itself soon after
my marriage. I carried my gold first to
banks and then to my own safes. I put
constraint on my wife—for very gener
ously she had made over her whole for
tune to me—and began to grumble at ex
penses. I made our living so frugal that
she remonstrated, and finally ran up large
bills where and when she pleased. Against
this I protested, and we had open quar
rels more than once. My clothes grew
shabby ; I could not afford to buy new
ones, although the interest of my invest
ments was more than I could possibly
spend for rational living.
I finally grew dissatisfied with every
thing but my money. I neglected my
wife and grew careless about her society.
Several gentlemen came to my house,
among them a would-be author and celeb
rity,. He came, I thought, too often for
my good name, and I ordered my wife to
discontinue his company. She refused
and I looked her up in her room. How
she managed to set, herself free I never
knew ; but in the evening, when I return
ed, she was gone from the house. That 1
caused me some uneasiness, sot much, for I
I was soon absorbed in taking account of
my gains. It was perhaps nine in the
evening. I had just managed to take up
a parr for a moment, to read out its bus
iness details, when the door opened, and
in came my wife, dressed bewitchingly,as
if just from an evening concert, followed
by the moustached celebrity.
" Good evening, my dear," she said, in
the coolest way imaginable, and placed a
chair for her friend.
" Stop !" I cried, my jealousy aroused ;
"that man sits not down in my house."
"That man—a gentleman and my
friend—shall sit here, sir," said my wife
firmly.
My passion was excited then as it nev
er was before, and I collared the scound
rel. He was my match ; but, God of
heaven, my wife coolly put a dirk knife
that she drew from, a cane into his hand
and be stabbed me. 'fainted, and remem
bered nothing more, till I found myself
on a bed in my own chamber, watched
over by my housekeeper.
" Where are they ?" I gasped.
" Gone," was all she said.
It occnrred to me then like a flash of
lightning that nobody was near when I
was wounded, that my keys were about
my person, and that I had been robbed,
perhaps, of all my available property.—
The thought threw me into, an agony of
fear. I ordered my clothes to be brought
to me. The keys were there. Taking
one of them out, I told Mrs. Hale, my
housekeeper, to go to my safe and bring
me the papers that were there. She re
turned, her face white with terror, to say
there wati nothing there, and all the little
doors were open.. '
"Robbed.! robed I" I yelled, with cur
ses and imprecations; and again my sen
ses deserted me.
Brain fever ensued. For weeks I lay
ptreasoni literally treading the
verge of the grave..' One , morningl 3grus
conscious only of a sinking, deathly feel-
ing as I opened my eyes. Was it an an
gel I Saw standing, her soft eyes veiled
with pity, looking down upon me with
the most commiserating gentleness? For
a moment I thought I might be in heav
en—but reasoned with myself; I
loved money to well. My treasure was of
the earth. Again I opened my dim eyes.
The vision seemed wavering now, but oh,
did . it not wear the sainted beauty of
sweet Lucy Manning? A quiet unutter
able peace took possession of my entire
being. I forgot wealth, bealth,• every
thing. My past life seemed blotted out,
and I was once again innocent, untouched
by tho griping band of avarice, true, lov
ing and loved—and Lucy Manning was
my idol.
But I recovered slowly, and at last, as
my strength surely returned, I missed
her. As soon as she saw I could be left
with safety she bad left me, and oh, the
blank—the dreadful blank.
I wandered around my room, now so
desolate, and saw the many evidences of
my miserly habits. I know not why, bat
towards my wife my feelings seemed to
have undergone a revulsion. I fear I ha
ted her. She had nearly beggared me,
and deceived me, shattered my health, de
stroyed all my hopes.
Months passed before I was able to es
timate the damage that bad been done to
me. Every means that could be put forth
were used for the discovery of my money,
but all in vain.
One night I sat by the fire, a cheerless,
disappointed, and lonely man. I had been
thinking thoughts that only burned my
brain, but did not purify my heart.
" It'l bad only married sweet Lucy," I
said again and again, " all this had not
been so."
My housekeeper came in with a letter;
an unusually large package it was—and
as it bore a foreign postmark I opened it
with a trembling hand. What was that?
A rustling, crumpled bank-note! Anoth
er and another came forth until there laid
upon my knees twenty bills of the largest
denomination. A few trembling lines ac
companied them :
"My husband—l am dying : my dis
ease, there is no need to tell you. For
give me and accept this enclosed as a
faint effort toward restitution. It is not
much over half that we took from the
safe. The rest is—l know not where. I
am deserted. Farewell, forever."
An icy chill thrilled me. It seemed as
if her spectral presence was near me. I
shuddered as I rolled the bills together,
and.threw them across the room.
" Lie there, cursed of my soul," I cried.
" Lie there till I have conquered myself;
ay, it the victory is not won till you are
rotten:"
I shut the door up and sealed it, and for
six months I toiled like a pennilgss man,
till I partially redeemed myself. By man
aging cautiously, I placed my business on
a successful footing, and began life again
as a new man. It took many a year to
wear off my old habits of parsimony, but
every effort gave me new and agreeable
pleasure.
Meantime Lucy Manning became dear
er to me than she bad ever been in the
flush of youth. I entreated her forgive
ness, bumbled myself in all ways, and con
vinced her at last that I was as worthy
DOW as once I was in seeming. On the
day of my wedding, I opened the sealed
door. The bank notes lay where I bad
flung them. I took them up with the pride
of a conqueror, and placing them in her
hands, exclaimed :
"They are no longer my masters ; use
them as you will."
" Now I am a steti--redeemed from
the thralldom of covetousness. I have
three blooming children. Lucy is an angel
of goodness, and I,"By the graco of God,
I am what I am."
A MATRIMONIAL TRICK.-A rich old
widower in Canada is said to have prac
ticed a very artful scheme to gain the
hand of the belle of the village. He got
an old gipsy to tell the young lady's for
tune in words which he dictated, as fol
lows: "My dear young lady, your star
will soon be bid for a short time by every
dark cloud, but when it reappears it will
continue to shine with uninterrupted
splendor until the end of your days. Be
fore one week, a wealthy old widower,
wearing a suit of black and a fine castor
hat, will pay you a visit and request your
hand in marriage. Yon will accept his
offer, become his wife, and be left a wid
ow in possession of all his property, be
fore the close of this year. Your next
husband will be the young man of whom
you think most at present." Three days
after, the old gentleman, dressed in the
manner described by the gipsy, presented
himself to the young lady, and the mar
riage followed. The year is more than
out, but the tough old widower still lin
gers.
Lower loss.—A lady, a regular shopper
who bad made an unfortunate clerk tum
ble over all the stocking, in the store, ob
jected that none were long enough.
"'I want,P she said, " the longest hose
that are - ,
" Tben, Madam," was the reply, " you
bad better apply to the engine house?
VOLUME XXIII, NUMBER 16.
The wondrous spell of God's glorious
presence rested upon the place. The mu
sic swelling over and around us, seemed
almost angel tones; the soft pure light ir•
radiating the room to emanate from the
glory of his countenance. From the lips
of his messenger, to whom twas given to
break the bread of life to all of ne that
were an hungered, fell in low, reverent
tones. " Come unto me all ye that labof
and are heavy laden, and I. will give yod
rest."
Down•into the depths of our soul like
oil they fell, calming the troubled waters
there, and to our heavy wears eyelids,
came refreshing, long repressed tears, wa
tering the arid sands in our heart, and
Washing away the sinful, half insane re
hellion against unalterable destiny, that
like some dark, ill omened spirit, had
preyed upon a feverish distorted fancy,
till we had turned shuddering away from
the phantom like picture of coming gloom
and sorrow, that a morbid imagination
saw through the mysterious, mystic veil
of the future. " Come unto me." The
dear tones of our blessed Saviour seemed
repeating them over and over to us, not
with stern command, but 0 so tenderly,
and with such pitying, yearning love, till
at last with a sudden, wild impulse, our
heart broke away from its bonds of sel
fishness and pride, and bitterness, and
with a passionate, pleading cry for for
giveness, bowed humbly down at his feet /
and there rolled all its burdens off. "And
I will give you rest." how very, very
near seemed heaven to us then. Earth's
clouds, and cold grey shadows, that had
so lately lowered darkly round us, melted
away into new clear sunlight of hope, and
faith, and the complaiuing cry "My God,
my God, why hast
_thou forsaken me,"
that our spirit in its deep sadness had be
fore uttered, changed to the grand beau
tiful anthem, "The Lord is my light
and my salvation." The way that had
appeared toilsome, and dreary, and deso
late, now to our altered vision grew
smooth, and easy to tread; roses bloomed
along the path, whose dewy fragrance
breathed of heavenly odors, sweet birds
trilled . and warbled their joyous notes,
that Seemed a prelude to the songs of
praise angel choirs are ever chanting,
their thrilling melody echoing through
vast corridors of God's eternal - church,
and lingering even along heaven's vesti
bule—" the narrow way"—till they fall
faintly, sweetly upon the ear of the weary
traveler, inspiring his heart with new fer
vor and zeal, giving to his faltering feet
fresh vigor and strength to push on in the
upward way, till he reach the celestial
gate, the "straight gate," of which our
Saviour said, "to him that knocketh it.
shall be opened "
There are ou the globe about 1;288,00%-
000 of souls, of which
369,000,000 are of the Circassian racer
552,000,000 are of the Mongol
190,000,000 are of the Ethiopian race.
176,000,000 are of the Malay race.
1,000,000 are of the Ande American ,
races.
There are 3,648 langtrages spoken, aud
1,000 different r eli g ions.
The yearly mortality of the globe is
3,333,333 persons. Thus at the rate of
91,554 per day, 3,730 per hour, 60 per
minute. So each pulsation of our heart
marks the decease of some human crea
ture.
The average of human life is 36 years,
One Fourth of the population die at or
bethre the age of seven years—one half at.
or before 17 years.
Among 10,000 persons, one arrives at
the age of 100 years, one in 500 attains the
age of 90, and ono in 190 lives to the age
of 60. .•
Married men live live longer than sin
gle ones. In 1000 persons 65 marry, and
more marriages occur in June and De
cember than in any other month in the
year.
One eight of the whole population is
military.
Professions exercise a great influence
on longevity.
In 1000 individuals who arrive at the'
age of 70 years, 42 are priests, orators, or
public speakers; 40 are agriculturists, 33
are workmen,32 soldiers or military em-'
ployes, 20 avocates or engineers, 27 pro
fessors, and 25 doctors. Those who de
vote their lives to the pfolongation of that
of others die the soonest.
There are 335,000,000 Christians,
There are 5,000,000 Israelites.
There are 60,000,000 of the ASiatie re
ligion.
There are 160,000,000 Mahomedans.
There are 200,000,000 Pagans.
In the Christian Churches :
180,000,000 profess the Roman' Catbo--
lic. '
1 t5,000,000 profess the Greek . faith.
80,000,000 profess the Prrotestant.
VALur. or AIuTAL-TxrPED Suomi FOR
CHILDEEN.—An acquaitanceovho has threo
children, informs ,as, Oat, since ha coin
menoed buying tipped, shoes , lens yogi
agar ): be has omed-thelprice of netw,beetes
tof himself. —Costmerriai
FOB THE DEMOCRAT.
" Come Unto Ele."
VI VIAN 1iE1.1....
Vital Statistics of MankhuL