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A foil%) Paper---poottb to ;igrifutturt, fittraturt, sritart, Art, fort*, patstir nib 'Land jutelligtirt,
tSTABLISHED IN 1813.
THE WAYNESBURG MESSENGER,
PUBLISHED BY
R. W. JONES & JAMES S. JENNINGS,
WAYNESBURG, GREENE CO., PA
grOPPICE NEARLY OPPOSITE THE
PUBLIC SQVARE. .41
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piration of six months; $2llO within the year; $2 50
after the expiration of the year.
ADVOITIEISPIENTIN inserted at $1 00 per square for
tine insertions, and 25 cents a square foreach addition
al insertion; (ten lines or lees counted a square.)
Er A. liberal deduction made to yearly advertisers.
Me' Jos Palmas, of all kinds, executed in the best
style, and on reasonable terms, at the "Messenger" Job
elsce.
f.t4 quesburg 13usigess Cuts.
JLTTORNEYS.
J. A. J. BUCHANAN. WM. C. LINDSEY.
BUCHANAN & LINDSEY,
ATTORNEYS AND COUNSELLORS AT LAW,
Waynesburg, Pa.
Office on the North side of Main street, two doors
West of the "Republican" Office. Jan. 1, 1862.
RIAA. PUNKAH. J. G. RITCHIE.
\PUWAN SijtITCHIE,
gIITTGIiNtYd AND COUNBELLODS4T. LAW,
.Wa . ykeabuitig.
,Ermi businesii,in Greene, Washington,. dud-Fay
ette Counties, entrusted to them, will receive prompt
attention. Septi-41; 1861-Iy.
R. W. DOWNEY,
Attorney and Counsellor at Law. Office in Led
with's Building, opposite the Court House.
.6ktpt. 11,1861-Iy.
DAVID CRAWFORD,
Attorney and Counsellor at Law. Office in Sayers'
Building, adjoining the Post Office.
dept. It, ltitil—ly.
A. BLACK. JOHN PHELAN.
BLACK & PHELAN,
ATTORNEYS AND COUNSELLORS AT LAW
Office in the Court House, Waynesburg.
Sept. 1861-Iy.
PHYSICIANS
DR. D. W. BRADEN,
Physician. and Surgeon. Office in the Old Bank
Building, Atainatreet. Sept. 11, 1861-Is.
DRUGS
DR. W. L. CREIGH,
Physician and Surgeon,
And dealer in Drugs, Medicines, Oils, Paints, Ac.„
kn., Main street, a few doors east of the Bank.
Sept. 11, 1861-Iy.
M. A. HARVEY,
Druggist and Apothecary, and dealer in Paints and
Oils, the most celebrated Patent Medicines, and Pure
Liquors for medicinal purposes.
Sept. 1861-Iy.
30MitOZAIITS
WM. A. PORTER,
Wholesale and Retail Dealer in Foreign and Domes
tie Dry Goods, Groceries, Notions, arc., Main street.
Sept. 11, 1861-Iy.
GEO. HOSICINSON,
Opposite the Court House, keeps always on hand a
large stock of Seasonable Dry Goods, Groceries, Boots
•nd Shoes, and Notions generally.
Sept. 11,•1861-1y.
ANDREW WILSON,
Dealer in Dry Goode, Groceries, Drugs, Notions,
Hardware, Queensware, Stoneware, Looking Glasses,
•Iron and Nails, Boots and Shoes, Hats and Caps,
- Main street, one door east of the Old Dank.
Sept. 11, ISSI—ly.
R. CLARK,
Dialer in Dry Goods, Groceries, Hardware, Queens-
Wire and notions, one door west of the Adams House,
Main street. Sept. I I, 1861-Iy.
MINOR & CO .,
Dealers in Foreign and Domestic Dry Goods, Gro
series, Quieusware, Hardware and Notions, opposite
me Green House. Main street.
Sept. 11, 1881-Iy,
OLOTZING
N. CLARK,
Healer lu Men and Bny's Clothing, Cloths, Cassi
mem, Satinet', Hats and Caps, &c., Main Arcot. op.
the Court House. Sept. 11, IS6I-Iy.
A. J. SOWk:US,
Dealer in Men and Boy's Clothhtg. Gentlemen's Fur-
Bishityr Goods, Boots and Shoes, Hata ,and Caps, Old
_Bank Building, Main sa.,_ CPC
1100 T AND SH111,11!
J. D. COSGIRAY 2 -
Dont and Shoe maker, Main eteee!; neatly opposite'
the "Farmer's and Drover's Du*. 1110Nrx style of
Mots and Shoes constantly on hails] or maths td' order.
Sept. 11, 1861-IY.
J. B. RICKEY,
Boot and Shoe maker, 8444 Corner,lfain street.
BOOS and Shoes of every variety always on band or
'made to order on short notice.
Sept. 11, 1861-Iy.
D4O
JOSEPH YATER,
Dealer in Groceries and Confectioneries, Notions,
Medicines, Perfumeries, Liverpool Ware, &c., Gime of
*Haines, and Gilt Moulding and Looking Glass Plates.
Er Cash paid for good eating Apples.
Sept. 11, 1861-Iy.
JOHN MUNNELL,
Dealer in Groceries and Confectionaries, and Variety
*nods Generally. Wilson's New Building, Maio street.
Dept. 11, 1861-Iy.
333Zi &a.
LEWIS DAY,
Dealer in School and Miscellaneous Books, Station
tom Ink, Magazines and Papers, Wilson's Old Build
ing. Main street. Sept. 11, 1861-Iy.
I. .Y-' f.~
......
FAME RS' & DROVERS' BANK,
nesburg. ay Ps.
C. A. BLACK, W
Presq. LAZEAR, Cashier.
• DISCOUNT DAY,
WEDNESDAY.
Sept. 11, 1861-Iy.
SA.MUELMALLISTER,
Saddle, Harnewl and Trunk Maker, Main street, three
One west of the Adams HOU&
litept. 11, 1861—ty.
voish.oomirumps.
HOW IE,II, bt HAGER ,
110istetietarev e and wboleattle and retail dealt= is
TObacco, ;Segue and gnuff. dettar Coe% pyre*, te,
Wilsedtthill - Antftling-, m a in street.
sept 11„ •
4.rh.ds—h- e' •
Arismapt: likaii4
— R
- 4
-
grutt pgrtrg.
THE VOLUNTEER'S BURIAL.
BY PARK BENJAMIN
'Tie eve ; one brightly beaming star
Shines from the eastern heaven a far,
To light the footsteps of the brave,
Slow marching to a comrade's grave.
The northen wind has sunk to sleep ;
The sweet South breathes, as, low and deep,
The martial clang is heard, the tread
Of those who bear the silent dead.
And whose the form, all stark and cold,
Thus ready for the loosened mould,
And stretched upon so rude a bier I
Thine soldier, thine ! the Volunteer.
Poor Volunteer ! the shot, the blow,
Or swift disease hath laid him low;
And tew his early loss deplore—
His battle fought, his journey oe'r.
Alas ! no wife's fond arms caressed,
His cheek no tender mother pressed,
No pitying soul was by his side,
As lonely in his tent he died.
He died--the Volunteer—at noon ;
At evening came the small platoon •
That soon will leave him to his rest,
With sods upon his manly breast.
Hark to their fire ! his only knell—
More solemn than the passing bell ;
For ah ! it tells a spirit flown,
Unshriven, to the dark unknown.
His deeds and fate shall fade away,
Forgotten since his dying day,
And never on the roll of Fame
Shall be inscribed his humble name
Alas! like him, how many more
Lie cold upon Potomac's shore !
How many green unnoted graves
Are bordered by those placid waves !
Sleep, soldier, sleep ! from sorrow free,
And.sin and strife. 'Tie well with thee.
`Tie well : though not a single tear
Laments the buried Volunteer !
greltrt fii iortilang.
For the N. Y. Observer.
BENEDIOT ARNOLD: HIS GRAND
SON IN ENGLAND.
Few crimes involve greater turpi
tude than treachery. Hence treason
has become personfied in the name
and history of Benedict Arnold. In
childhood, Arnold was intensely self
ish, and his acts were often malicious
and cruel. In Norwich Ct., where
he was born and passed his early
days, he was notorious for his rash
temper, for his love of cruelty, and
passion for mischief. He loved to
destroy birds' nests and kill the
young, that he might be diverted by
the cries of their mothers. He was
fond of throwing broken glass on the
pavement, that the children passing
might wound their naked feet. Fre
quently he was known to decoy boys
in front of his fathers store, and
then apply the horsewhip to them.
He was rash, unprincipled and head
strong when yound. When he
reached mature life, these brutal im
pulses and congenial traits of charac
ter culminated in treason.
Arnold was married twice. Once
in New Haven, Ct., where he resided
many years as a merchant and deal
er in horses with the West Indies.—
The house in which he lived still re
mains, and the sign "BENEDICT
ARNOLD," which he had placed over
his business office, is in the possess
ion of a gentleman of that city.—
His second wife was Miss Shippen,
daughter of Judge S., who was an
eminent citizen of Philadelphia
while Arnold was in command there.
The house he occupied may still be
seen at the corner of Second and
Walnut Streets, and was once the
home of that great and good man
William Penn. After Arnold's trea
son was detected, and he had gone
on board of a British ship lying in
the Hudson, he was active in brutal
and bloody assaults by the British
army upon his countrymen, especialy
at New London, Ct, But the officers,
while they rejoiced at the treason,
despised the traitor, and refused fel
lowship with him, although holding
a commission given by the British
government. He soon after went to
England, but nowhere being receiv
ed with cordiality, in a moment of
indignation he resigned. In a few
weeks he returned to St. Johns, New
Brunswick, and resamed his trade
with the West Indies.
Not many years since, a venerable
lady was living in Northampton,
Mites., who knew Arnold and his wife
intimately while resident at New
Brunswick. She recolected many
interesting incidents in his history,
and among other things she possess
ed a note written to her by Mrs.
Arnold, during the trial of her hus
band as , a suspected incendiary.—
She also has a copy of a placard, print
ed with most prrmitive tipograpky,
which was circulated by the excited
people, while they were burning him
in effigy. It appears, on Arnold's re
-turn to St. Johns, that he leased a
lave, ~sheet° sad Ailed it with
ristessied assilibandiw abet
"lbosilmossortils,
° 1111 wow
strorxl by ire. Thu edi "e
WAYNESBITRG, GREENE COUNTY, PA., WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 29, 1862.
fused to pay, and Arnold sued for
damages and was defeated; then it
was his want of popularity was made
most manifest. Not only was his
image carried about the streets, with
the word "Traitor upon it, but
amidst the shouts of an excited pop
ulace it was burnt in the public mar
ket-place. During this popular dem
onstration, Mrs. Arnold was greatly
excited, and sent for the lady above
referrtd to—then young and unmar
ried—to come and pass the day with
her. That note, (which we copy ver
batim from the original in Mrs. A.'s
own handwriting,) was as fol
lows :
"Your kind, your affectionate at
tentions, my dear friend, at this time,
are most sensibly felt by me, and
will ever be remembered. I have
been ill all night with a good deal of
fever, and have never for once forgot
ten all my cares. lam better this
morning, and had prepared myself
for what might happen, but was
much disappointed at receiving a
message from the General that the
trial was postponed until to-morrow.
This will occassion me another night
of wretchedness. The weather is to
bad for you to come out, otherwise
your company would afford me infin
ite satisfaction. If it holds up and
you are not affraid, pray come and
spend the day with me. The Gener
al acts himself. In my opinion, this
is saying all I can for him."
The hand-bill below which was cir
culated by the people during the
trial above alluded to, is a humilia
ting but somewhat truthful record,
showing the exasperated feeling at
St. Johns, and the estimation in
which the people of that city .held
Arnold. It is literally copied from
one of the original placards thrown
about the streets of that city, while
the populace were hanging and burn
ing him in effigy. The original ty
pography is preserved as near as
possible, and is as follogs :
The last SPEECH and CONFESSION of
JUDAS,
Who was Executed at the Public
Market place, in the city of St.
Johns (New Brunswick) on the 27th
of August, 1791,
I was born in America, about the
year 1736 of reputable, my father 1
was a Coblar and intended me for
the same profession lait my restless
disposition rendered me unfit for any
employment during his lifetime—
After his death I became a quack
Doctor, but want of skill and stabili- i
ty soon reduced me. And having
enjoyed the sweets of imprisonment
for a reasonable time I. commenced
on the laudable calling of a horse
jockey,
in the mysterious of which I
soon became so great a proficient
that with a hogshead of New-Eng
land rum, and half a dozen of old
watches, I could purchase a cargo of
Horses anytime; and from a
knowledge that jockeying was as
necessary at a sale as at a purchase,
I occasionallyi visited the West In
dies,
where from the generosity so
natural to setlers in some of the!
Islands, and the ignorance of others, '
I found them an easy prey; and by
forming contracts on barrels of flour,
that I had the address to insert as,
flour barrels, I bocame possed of con
siderable property ; but the old adage
that ill gotten gains ara not lasting,
was verified in me, as on the eve of .
the great American struggle, I found
myself again reduced to penury. A
great field now opened, I assumed
the character of a patriot, and there
by imposed on the unsuspecting Gen.
Washington; as some acts of des
peration, from a want of genuine
courage, were necessary to establish
a favorable opinion, I exerted myself
to the ntturmost to confirm it, by com
mitting the most unheard of cruelties, 1
such as burning vessels loaded with
wounded men &c. as well as impris
oning, torturing, starving, and hang
ing the loyalists indeshriminately,
whereby every jealously of my want
of fidelity was removed, and I was
entrusted with commands according
ly. Treason and avarice being the
basis of my composition, I embraced
the first offer, and sold myself with
an engagement to sacrifice the Army
under my command, for a sum that
promised to insure me happiness.—l
succeeded but in part, and obtained
the promised reward, with the un
reasonable deduction of 2d. sterling
from each' dollar.—Accomplished in
villany, I had the impudence to so
licit and the address to obtain a Brit
ish commission, and consequent com
mands, when I committed acts that
I blush to repeat,—my conduct of
late years is too notorious to need a
repition. A gracious Sing, and a
generous Nation, have awarded my
Treason with competency, but I find
and feel, alas,! too late, that they de
test the Traitor.
iirGentlemen as there seems to
be a great number of you collected
together to see my awful Execution,
take my advice and do not as I have
done. In I.he year 1787, I was in
London,, and saw that the Police
Cabe was open and I thought to
make something considerable of
thorn: I bought an old Brig, and in
sured, her for three titnes the value,
and *fen I egniiip to St. Io no'
titirt•ti 'tiiikritittit batik' or .
oseise , gabb
thing I struck at, was to build a
large and elegant store, and import
a general assortment of goods, the
greatest part of them unsaleable such
as stills &c. all the goods I could not
dispose of I sent to this store, which
was insured for ten thousand pounds
sterling.—few days before I contrived
to set it on fire at low water, so that
the engines could not be sufficiently
supplied, my point being accomplish
ed I obtained the insurance.
Now I beg of all of you that has got
Children not to let kthem go astray
as I have mine—l sold a gentleman
a quantity of rum, and while he was
gone on board to ship it, I was busily
employed with filling the Hhds. with
water. Friends I have none, I can
not forgive my enemies, and the
Lord have mercy upon my body, for
in souls I have no belief.
BENEDICT ARNOLD.
Arnold and his wife lived at St.
Johns quite ostentiously,• and there
they sought the society of the culti
vated, opulent people and the officers
of the army. But these people did
not like the man and detested his
principles, and hence they shunned
him. In great disgust, soon after
his trial and the defeat which fol
lowed, he gave up his busines and
sailed for London, where for some
years he lived in obscurity. His
death occurred suddenly 1810, aged
61 years. Mrs. A. died three years
afterward, at the age of 43.
Little has been known of the de
scendants of Benedict Arnold; al
though he left three children. No
public record of their conduct or po
sition exists, and yet two of them
were officers of merit in the British
army. By a fortunate circumstance,
the writer is able, in a degree to sup
ply this deficiency, and to redeem
Arnold's descendants from the in
famy to which his name and charac
ter were consigned. In a recent
visit to England, he was gratified
by an accidental meeting with a
grandson of Arnold, his only living
male heir. Rev. Edward Arnold is
rector of an established church in
Hertfordshire, some twenty miles
west of London. He is about thirty
five years of age, of medium size and
dark complexion, with an expressive
and benevolent face. Young A. is a
man of groat decision, and in his pro
fession exhibits much ability and en
ergy of character. He voluntarily
made known his relationship, and
the conduct of his grandfather,
while he unhesitatingly condemned
he thought that some acts of gratitude
not injustice, on the part of the
Government, should be allowed as
extenuating circumstances. He
freely conceded the great crime of
treason, but he claimed there was
wrong on both sides.
An invitation to visit his beautiful
rectory, where hospitality was most
cordially extended, enabled me to
gather some interesting facts, which
must be peculiarly interesting to
Americans. Two of Arnold's sons
died in the army, and one of his
grandsons, brother of Rev. Edward
A. fell, bravely fighting at the head
of his company, before Sebastopol.—
One of his sons reached high rank in
the East India service, where he was
an officer during nearly half a centu
ry. Before his death, some three
years since, he received many marks
of distinction from the British Gov
ernment. Numerous tokens Of hig
professional regard are preserved b •
his nephew. Among them are many
medals, and a hundred guinea sword,
a splendid testimonial for wisdom in
council, courage in the field, long ser
vice, and eminent devotion to his
country. A pair of pistols, used by
Arnold, in a duel in London, are also
in possession of his grandson. He
felt insulted by the remark of a gen
tleman, (Lord Surrey;)and the traitor
challenged him. Arnold fired with
out effect, but his antagonist with
held his shot, turning his back on
Arnold with the contemptous re
mark—"l leave you to the hangman."
The British Government gave Ben
edict Arnold large tracts of land in
Canada, as the pecuniary reward for
his treason. Some of it was near
Brockport, on the St. Lawrence riv
er But a large portion of it, (3,000
acres,)is near Toronto, between that
city and lake Sincoe. This property
was owned for a long series of years
by Arnold's eldest son; but being in
the army in the East Indies, he knew
little about it, except such as an occa
sional brief letter from the Canadian
agent furnished. trpon his death,
some years since, it reverted to Rev.
Edward Arnold, the only living male
heir, and he began a series of inquir
es about the property. No reliable
or satisfactory intelligence could be
obtained, and he feared the land was
compareatively valueless. He was
assured by the agents that much of
the soil was poor'and swampy, scarce
ly exceeding $2 per acre in value.—
But Mr. A. was told by less interest
ed parties, that if it was in the vin
cinity of Toronto, the property was
vastly more valuable, and he was ad
vised to wait further developments.
Subsequent investigations, at the re
quest ear. Arnold, have discovered.
the land to be among the most Iralua
ble in 9anada. The 3,00 Q %en% now
ow,neiti by hint,, bat &nil the
Uhti! - -it 'Or het j. .e.QI
14ti thi
tle 14.
cinity of the railway (Georgian Bay
in Lake Huron) to Toronto. Compe
tent judges pronounce it worth from
$5O to 75 per acre. thus thiii young
and meritorious clergyman has subse
quently been placed in possession of an
estate valued at nearly $200,000,
which a month before, from the rep
resentations of faithless agents, he
would gladly have sold for $lO,OOO !
Rev. Edward Arnold married the
daughter of an English earl, and ul
timately will inherit a large fortune.
But his Canadian property, now in
the hands of more competent and
faithful agents, will at once yield
him a large income, the practical
fruits of the reward for his grand
father's treachery. The old English
church, of which he is rector, is a
model specimen of ancient ecclesias
tical architecture, having been built
over 300 years. It is a small, quaint
stone edifice with a diminutive tower
having scarcely a hundred sittings.—
Nearly the entire structure is envel
oped in ivy, from one root, the trunk
of which is as large as a good-sized
forest tree. Whitton, the parish
where the gifted and eminent chris
tian writer, Bickersteth, was rector,
and where his remains are buried, is
less than two miles distant. The
whole region of country, round about,
is rich in beautiful rural scenes, the
magnificent residences of the English
nobility and gentry being intersper
sed. It is among such an enlightened
population, with a full share of rustic
peasantry, that the only living male
descendant of Benedict Arnold lives
and labors. He is an American by
descent, and it is gratifying to learn,
that although the grandson of a dis
honored countryman, he does no dis
credit to himself, his sacred profession,
or that noble land which gave him
birth. WINTHROP.
Oommotion in Liberia.
By way of England we have very
interesting news from Liberia, dated
at Monrovia, on the 16th of October
The republic was intensely excited
in consequence of the expected re
turn of a Spanish force from Sierre
Leone, in order to avenge the insult
said to have been offered to the flag
of the Queen by the gunboat Quail,
acting under orders of the Liberian
government. Judge Washington
had returned from Sierre Leone, and
reported to President Benson that
the Govener General of Fernando Po
had assured him that the Quail would
be destroyed, and Monrovia probably
attacked by the ships-of-war of Spain.
The President had consequently
drawn out the colored militia, and
was prepared to defend the country
to the last. It is said that a native
king will attack the river settlements
of the Liberians whenever the Span
iards appear. President Benson,
amidst all the din of approaching
battle, found time to enter the court
of Venus, and is said to be paying his
addresses to Miss Annie Polston, an
accomplished young lady lately from
Brooklyn, New York.
QUEER. CASE OE lIDIGESTION.-
Emery Lull, aged seventeen years,
son of Mr. James Lull, of Pittsfield,
Maine, came to his death, on Tues
day night last, under the following
singular circumstances: Tuesday
night, after he had retired to bed
with his grandfather, he complained
of being unwell, and being question
ed, confessed that he had swallowed
ten stones, eight leaden bullets,
and a metal button. After this con
fession, the grandfather got up and
informed the boy's father of what he
had done, who, being something of a
Doctor, told his son, with tears in
his eyes, that the best he could do
was to props' e his mind for death,
for if he' had done what he bad said,
no earthly power could save him.—
It is not known how large the stones
were that he swallowed, but one
found in his jacket was as large as a
walnut. The reason the boy gave
for swallowing the stones was be
cause ho wanted to do what a hum
bug shaman pretended to do at a
Cattle Fair, i. e., eat stone. It ap
pears that the boy did realy suppose
that the man lived on stones, as he
pretended, and, as he said, thought
he could do the same.
A BEAUTIFUL EXTRACT.—LABOR.--
Why, man of idleness, labor rocked
you in the cradle, and has nourished
your pampered life; without it, the
woven silks and wool upon your back
would be in the fold. For the mean
est thing that ministers to human
want, save the air of heaven, m an is
indebted to toil; and even the air,
by God's ordination, is breathed with
labor. It is only the drones who.
toil not, who infest the hive of activ
ity like masses of corruption and de
cay. The lords of the earth are
working men, who can build up and
cast down at their will, and who re
tort the sneer of the "soft hand," by
pointing to their trophies, wherever
art, science, civilization, and humani
ty are known. Work on, man of
toil? thy royalty is yet to be acknowl
edged as labor rises onward to the
highest throne of power. Work on,
and in the language of a true poet,
be
"4,oooo4o,olmlitiomeaown
ugh shall be
wAuflif *bpi *era all
WNW imilatt4 marl throdu was time
Frau alias to dims.
Or Gat bedsit* *at idioms is OWL"
Of gamily eittrit.
WHAT I LIVE FOR.
BY G. LINNAUS BABIES
I live for those who love me,
Whose hearts are kind and true ;
For the heaven that smiles above me,
And awaits my spirit too ;
Eor all human ties that bind me,
For the task my God assigned me,
For the bright hopes left behind me,
And the good that I can do.
I live to learn their story,
Who've suffered tor my sake ;
To emulate their glory,
And follow in their wake
Bards, patriots, martyrs, sages,
The noble of all ages,
Whose deeds crown History's pages,
And Time's great volume make.
I live to hold communion
With all that is Divine ;
To feel there is a union
'Twist Nature's heart and mins ;
To profit by affliction,
Reap truths from fields of fiction,
Grow wiser from conviction,
And fulfil each grand design.
I live to hail that season,
By gifted minds foretold,
When man shall live by reason,
And not alone by gold;
When man to man united,
And every wrong thing righted
The whole world shall be lighted
As Eden was of old.
I live for those who love me,
For those who know me true
For the heaven that smiles above ma,
And waits my spirit too ;
For the cause that lacks assistance,
For the wrong that needs resistance,
For the future in the distance,
And the good that I can do.
" I HAVE MADE ONE HEART HAPPY
TO-DAY."
" Mother, mother, I have made one
heart happy to-day," said little Willie, as
he came running in from school one lovely
summer afternoon, and he threw his arms
about her neck, imprinting a kiss upon her
pale cheek. 'Yes, mother, I have made
one heart happy to-day :" and his little
bosom heaved with an honest pride and de
light, which caused his bright eyes to
sparkle, and a rosy smile to play upon his
dimpled cheeks.
Little Willie was a bright, active boy,
with a loving countenance. His widowed
mother on whom the whole care of his
training from infancy had devolved, was
called to exercise great discretion properly
to curb his natural hasty temper, and
bring it into due subjection to wholesome
restraint, and thus mould it for the accom
plishment of some noble end in life : to
love rather that to hate ; to do good rath
er than evil. And well had the mother
done her task. He was the child of many
prayers, and much faithful instruction;
and the good seed thus sown unsparingly,
and watered with a mother's tears, had
fallen in good soil, and was now just be
ginning to spring up with the promise of
an abundant harvest. The oft-repeated
counsel, that he ought always to try to
make some heart happy each day, had for
once been heeded; and she rejoiced in the
thought, and inwardly thanked her heav
enly Father that she had lived to see her
darling boy so loving and dutiful as he
had been of late, andespecially that happy
day.
"Are you sure, Willie ?" she said, after
a alight pause, " you have made one heart
happy to-day ?"
"Yea, mother ; she said so, and thanked
me, 0, so many times!"
"Who was it you made so happy ? and
what did you do for her?"
"It was the poor woman who lives in
the little house by the brook. I went in
there when I went to school ; and she said
she had been looking out of the window to
see the beautiful flowers, but she was old
and lame, and couldn't pick them as she
used to do; and, as she had now no little
boy or girl to get them for her, she had to
be content with looking at them from her•
window. Efo at noon I went out and got
all the prettiest ones I could find, and car
ried them to her ; and she was so glad, and
said God would bless me, for I had made
her poor heart happy ; that the flowers
were very sweat ; but she was going soon
to a land where there are far sweeter flow
ers that never fade. Did she mean heaven,
that I have heard you say so much about,
mother ?"
"Yes, my dear."
"May I not get flowers for her every day,
mother; and some of those nice ones from
our little garden, that I may make her hap
py again ?"
"Yes, child, as often and as many as
you wish ; and I trust the remembrance of
this day may cause you ever to strive to
make some heart happy daily ; and then it
cannot be said you have lived wholly in
vain ?
"I will try, mother, he mid ; and hie
blue eyes filled with tears, tears of mingled
sympathy end joy ; sympathy for the die.
consolate and coffering, and joy that even
he could be of some , service--iittl• bow
that he 1111114011$ 11141117 aM
landrhaarte hapii: Yes, and it was a
NEW SERIES.--VOL. 3, NO. 33.
blessed privilege. He had made one heart
happy that day ; and not one only, for this
simple story of that little act of childish
thoughtfulnes and kindness had made a
mother's heart happy also. Did not the
brightening eye, the sweet smile, and the
earnest recital, tell his fond mother that
his own heart beat lighter, and was happi
er that night for the little act of kindnes
had done? Yes, that simple handful of
flowers had made three hearts happy that
day. The flowers which caused it might
wither; but betore that happened, one more
unfading flower was blossoming in thane
hearts, and sweetening life with its sweet
fragrance.
Blessed privilege, indeed, to make am
heart happy each day ! Is there one that
cannot, or will not strive to do it? Thera is
sunshine enough, there are flowers enough.
there is perfume enough in this world of
ours, to make every heart happy, eta
sweeten every bitter cup, if there win lel
ways some kind word or act to unlock the
avenues thereto, and bestow on others some
of the blessed gifts of our heavenly Father.
If every one would but live for this, what
a blessed world earth would be! A little
heaven below: every home a temple of praise
and every heart an exhaustless fonatsin of
joy!
I v
Let all live, then, so that each night t sy
may say, "I have made one heart hit'
to-day."
How many sick ones
Wish they were healthy
How many beggar man
Wish they were wealthy ;
How many ugly ones
Wish they were pretty ;
How many stupid ones
Wish they were witty ;
HOW many bachelors
Wish they were married ;
Now many Benedict'
Wish they had tarried j
Single or double,
Life's full of trouble;
Riches are stubble,
Pleasure's a bubble.
The unfortunate girls compelled*
to earn their living by acting a
"waitresses„ in places of public n
sort, find it anything but the "pup*
of happiness," if they chance to
't Tr .....
sess any delicacy of feeling.
is something unnatural in the v-.
idea of a woman being placed in 4
position exposing her to the brit , ':1
remarks of any vagabond who , y
chance to have a few shillim to
spend for a drink or meal. of
onet4irte l
this class of girls—a pretty y;
creature, named Mary, who
at Wheeler's Dining Hall in eve.
land, Ohio—commited suicide'
week. No cause could be assign.
for the act I Though liked by 1
who visited the establishment,' . "..
fairly for her services, and tr ,
with general respect, she was
known to be very unhappy, and
frequently said to her eoim
that she was tired of life, and wie ,
g 0,,,,
she could die. The other mo * g
girl who slept with her le ft het
bed, apparently asleep; and in:
minutes from that time she was
Her disappearance created gresit...4rx
ein
citement; and she wail nOw l 4 l . ,tp b•
found until late in the eVeni *then
a gentleman noticed soina iig in
the water of the lake, beating 9
against the piles. It proved to
be the body of poor Mary, Who had
at last ended all her troubles "where
the lamps quiver far down in the
riN er." The inquest, says a local paper
was held at noon, and resulted in a
verdict offe/o de se. The cause of the
act is involved in mystery, save that
there is no doubt of the girl's insani
ty. Her name was Mary Harney,
and her age obogt twenty-five. Her
parentage was Irish, andi4 she• had
been a waitress in the -dining-hall
for eight years. A favoritetiritit all
who knew her—bright, intelligent,
and good—her sad fate has eamed
sincere mourning . among those know
in gher. Poor girl I—poor girl I
Oar Don' t let your children taint
good and bad things indiscriminate•
ly. To be sure, the bad might be
eradicated in after years, bat it is
easier to sow clean seed than to
cleanse dirty wheat.
illerhe swan snbdees the eagle
when he attacks her on her own ele.
ment ; so the weakest may subdue
strongest foe, if he but keeps his
plate and does his duty.
SiirHe who knows his ignoranee
is the possessor of the rarest land et
valuable knowledge.
stir Relations always take ikke
greatest liberties, and frequently
give the least assistance.
,Peace is the evening Awe*.
soul, as virtue is its sun ; ant
two are never apart.
a Friendship, like pb
shines most when all &row! hi 41014,
118111"11 you treat your iaferiem with Ai*
milierity, wipe* the same fu them.
Wilarpahiss oink la the bsaiewidul
stiduit this - ' of ihe *ilia&
liefireliei l - '''
''. **ll l 4 l
isrosee
fur 'he no no ilidol**lliaiii.
l','It:):11
A Mystery.