E 11=.......m.............. ,----...-...-...--..-..- . .--..------------- . !.:., . :, - -; . , , • . . • •• * _ " 0, 88....- - ', \ .\ \. . • --"\._. .....‘,......,_ ~ . • . /7".•,......./ 1 ,1.- .• - .. .. . . . .:_. 7 ( ) - H i, • • , -4 \' i I A \ . ii li 1 :-; it 1 : -• j . ( - -, ,-, - , I -, 41 ~ fil i . ,L 1iti ,'.,).. - '', - ,',;\;..'\) ik: c r ,f. ~ \, • , ~ i , 1 1 , : , ~1 1 1 1 P- • :).. II I 1 1 1 I ,'' - 1 ( .7% -7' I. —': 1 1 (~, C) 1 1 % t 1111 i lie ! • \; 1 -' I Q . 1 .._ ;:, 'c.,_:•-• -,- ' 1 . :,(:1 ': /1 ( l i l 1 i s t .4))'4 Ik C Q . . . I, ‘ . ti i - IL_ k. ,_. . , , , &_,k, )), _} \... . . i L i \•.• _ ( i.,.!! . , . :.;...--- • ...J<. ) .i ...--,') . , . . El A. Paper---Penotth to Politics, 3firintitort, fittrolurt, ,Sciturt, Art, foreign, flomestic nub @turd )ntritigruct, tcr. ESTAI3LISIIED IN 1813. THE WAYNESBURG MESSENGER, PUBLISHED BY • E. W. JONES & JAMES S: JENNINGS, • AT WAYNESBURG, GREENE CO., PA frrOFFICE NEARLY OPPOSITE THE PUBLIC SQUARE. -Ca i2111141C Suseickirnow.—Dl 50 in advance; $1 75 at the ex piration of six months; $2 00 within the year; $2 50 after the expiratiop of the year. ADVERTISEMENTE bleated at $1 OD 'Per square for three insertions, and 25 cents a square for each addition al insertion; (ten lines or less cqpnted a square.) Er A liberal deduction made to yearly advertisers. ILF . JOII PRINTING. of all kinds, executed in the best style, and on reasonable terms, at the "bleasenget" Job office. dquesburg Nusiness garbs. ATTORNEYS. A. PUZMAX. J. O. BITCHIS. PURMAN ARITCHIE, ATTORNEYS AND COUNSELLORS AT LAW, Waynesburg, Pa. tErAll business in Greene, Washington, and Fay ette Counties, entrusted to them, wilt receive prompt attention. Sept. it, 186I—ty. J.A.J. BUCHANAN. WM. C. LINDSEY. BUCHANAN & LINDSEY, ATTORNEYS AND COUNSELLORS AT LAW, Waynesburg, Pa. Office on the South side of Main street, in the Old Bank Building. Jan. 1, 1862. IL W. DOWNEY. 191111VEL MONTOO!VERY. DOWNES' & MONTGOMERY ATTORNEYS AND COUNSELLORS AT LAW, Office in Leduritit's Building, opposite the Court House, Waynesburg, Pa. E. A. M'CONNELL. J. .1. HITEIFMAN. 3IE'CONNELL dL ZUFFIVILAN. ATTORNEYS AND COUNSELLORS AT LAW Waynesburg, Pa. 117-office In the "Wright (louse," East Door. Collections, &c., will receive prompt attention. Waynesburg, April 10362-Iy. DAVID CRAWFORD, • Attorney and Counsellor at Law. Office in Sayers' Building, adjoining the Post Office. Sept. 11, 1861-Iy. O. •. SLACK. JOHN PHELAN. BLACK & PHELAN, ATTORNEYS • ANft COUNSELLORS At LAW Office in the Court Rouse, Waynesburg. Sept. 11,1861-Iy. PHYSICIANS B. M. MACKEY, M. D. PHYSICIAN dr. MIGNON, Odica—Blacitiees Building, Main St., RESPECTFULLY announces to the citizens of Waynesburg and vicinity that he has returned from the Hospital Corps of the Army and resumed the pm,- tice of medicine at this place. Waynesburg, June 11, 1362.-4. DR. D. W. BRADEN, Physician and surgeon. Office in the Old Bank Building. Main street. Sept 11, JB6l—lv. DR. A. G. CROSS WOULD very respectfully tender his services as a PHYSICIAN AND SITILGEO, to the people of Waynesburg and vicinity. He hopes by' a due appre ciation of human life and health, and strict attention to business, to merit a share of public patronage. Waynesburg. January 8, 1862. DR. A. J. EGGY RESPECTFULLY offers his services to the citizens of Waynesburg and vicinity, as a Physician and Surgeon. °Atte opposite the Repatitican office. He hopes by a due appreciation of the laws of human life and health, so native medication, and strict attention to business, to merit a liberal share of public patronage. April 9, 1862. DR. T. P. SHIELDS. PRACTICING PHYSICIAN. Office in the old Roberts , Building, opposite Day's Book Store. Waynesburg, Jan. 1,186 L DRUGS M. A. HARVEY, Druggist and Apothecary, and dealer in Paints and Oils, the most celebrated Patent Iltedicines, and Pure Liquors for medicinal purposes. Sept. 11, 1881-Iy. MERCHANTS. WM. A. PORTER, Wholesale and Retail Dealer in Foreign and Domes tic Dry Goods, Groceries, Notions, dm, Main street. dept. 11, 1861-Iy. GEO. HOSKINSON, Opposite the Court House, keeps always on hand a large stock of Ssasonahle Dry Goods, Groceries, Boots and Shoes, and Notions generally. Sept. 11, 1861-Iy. ANDREW WILSON, Dealer in Dry Goods, Groceries, Drugs, Notions, Hardware, Queeitirware, Stoneware, Looking Glasses, Iran and Nails, Boots and Shoes, Hats and Caps, Hain street, one door east of the Old Bank. Sept. 11, 1861-Iy. IL CLARK, ' Dealer in Dry Goods, Groceries, Hardware, Queens ware and notions, in the Hamilton House, opposite the Court House, Main street. Sept. 11, 1861-Iy. MINOR & CO., Dealers in Foreign and Domestic Dry Goods, Gro ceries, Queensware, Hardware and Notions, opposite the Green House. Main street. dept. 11, 186I—Iy, CLOTHING N. CLARK, Dealer in Men's and Boys' Clothing, Cloths, easel - Ineres, Satinets, Hats and Caps, &c., Main street, op. polite the Court House. Sept. 11, 1861-Iy. A. J. SOWERS, Dealer in Men's and Boys' Clothing, Gentlemen's Fur nishing-Goods, Boots and Shoes, Hats and Caps, Old Bottk Building, Main street. Sept. 11, 1861-9 m BOOT AND SHOE DEALERS J. D. COSGRAY, Soot and Shoe maker, Main street, nearly opp.mite talae "Farmer's and Drover's Bank." Every style of Illoota and Shoes constantly on hand or made to order. Arno.. 11, 113431-Iy. J, B. RICKEY, pdtr l t and Shoe maker, Blachley's Corner, Main street. - Bente Mid Shoes of every variety always on hand or made to order on short notice. ,' 14 111. 1 1, 1211-Iy. GROCIBILECS & VARIETIES JOSEPH YATER, Dealer in Groceries and Confectioneries. Notions, dicines, Perfumeries, Liverpool Ware, dm., Glass of . aims. and Gilt Moulding and Looking Glass Plates. Cash paid for good eating App!es. pt. 11, 1881-Iy. JOHN MUNNNLL, Danier in Biroceries and Confeetibnaries, and Variety aowilienerally, Wilson's New Building, Main street. • Sept. 4441361-Iy. • - - HB , &o. - ' DAY, • Dealers:,Books, Sugion ,ft". '" - -Ode door Bast of eiiitors, l "" . seer. 11,1101--.ly. isrtitantguaL THE LISBON EARTHQUAKE OF 1755. Lisbon had had several previous shocks, but, being uninjured, forgot them, and did not consider them to be warnings, or even threats. Sci ence had not reduced the action of earthquakes to any certain terms, and considered them inconsistent se quences; they were then, as they still are, mysteries. There was at first an undulating tremble of two minutes, which many laughing, feasting people thought was a wagon running underneath the windows.— Then another interval of dreadful silence, and the city fell to pieces like a card house—palace, hut and cabin, church, casino, gambling house and thieves' kitchen, amid a dusty fog as of an eclipse; through which apocalyptic darkness arose groans, screams and shrieks of the dying and the immured. An eye witness, in a ship lying in the Tagus, said, "He saw the whole city suddenly heave like a wave.— Lisbon had disappeared." Another man w r o t e, a day afterwards, "There is not a house to rest one's head in." At the same time, to swell the horror, the sea rose as if torn up by the roots, and threatened to bury even the ruins. This ten minutes' spasm of the earth was felt not merely on the volcanic line; it spread like a storm, even through Loch Lomond; it toss ed ships in the Atlantic, it was seen at the Orkneys, it turned the springs at the Clifton Hot Wells dark as ink; the very intelligence of it came like a thunder-chip on men's minds. The Last Day was prophe sied louder than ever, by the men who live by frightening people silli er than themselves, with such prophecies. The brute Power of the earthquake shook the city into rubbish-heaps ten minutes, and the most terrible feature of its cruelty happened in this very Black .Horse Square I now carelessly walk over, whistling as I go, and looking at the red-funnelled steamer waiting for me in the offing. It was to this broad space in front of the palace that, when the first shock subsided, and the roofs bad ceased to split, and the floors to gap open for a few minutes, that thous ands of the Lisbon people rushed with children, caskets, or whatever they deemed most precious, to fall on their knees, and pray •to God whom they expected to see every moment bursting from the clouds— his voice the thunder, in his hand the lightnings—in the great fury of his anger appearing to reap a guilty world. That moment, as in huddled, frightened, balf-naked groups, the boldest lay trembling, entranced, palsied or screaming, the square opened in the midst, and into that yawning grave they all sank, and the earth closed over them. At the same moment a great convulsion swallowed up tf.e quays, and the waves closed over every boat and vessel anchored there, not a frag ment of them ever appearing again. sow, when I bail John Fish, and call for a boat, I little think of the dead lying under the churchyard square; and so far from having any very clear tradition about it, that when I ask one of them, he tells me that the old city was on the oppo site side of the bay, not knowing that he now stands on the burial-place•of thousands.—Life in Spain, by Walter 7 hornbury. ENGLISH CUSTOMS. Mons. Wey, a French writer of distinc tion, who passed some weeks in London, has recently published in Paris his im pressions, under the title of "The English at home." On one ocecasion, while riding in an omnibus, he formed an acquaintance with a fellow-passenger, from whom he de rived many explanations of the strange things he saw. One of these we give : "I addressed a few words to him con cerning a carriage which drove by. It was too fine to be elegant, and was drawn by two magnificent horses. On the box adorned with beautiful fringe, sat a black• coated coachman ; there was not a wrinkle in his white cravat—his snowy gloves were spotless. In the vehicle, on downy cushions, carelessly lounging without a coat, his arm bare, his sleeves turned up to his shoulders ; an apron, with the cor ner turned up, served him as a girdle— so that the coachman looked like a gen tleman driving a mechanic in his working dress. Mons. W. asked his neighbor who and what was the strange-looking occupant of the dashing carriage. 'The richest butcher in Loudon,' was the reply; 'he is rid ing in his carriage from the slaughter-house to his residence. His forefathers were in the same business; his father left him A fortune of more than two millions, and he out of modesty followed his profession —a very honorable custom. This gentle man butcher possesses four millions.' " THE STARVING REBELS.—Nearly six thousand dollars in provisions and money have been sutmeribed at St. Louis for starving Sottherners about Corinth: Thirty live' hundred worth of provisions were forwarded on Wednesday. WAYNESBURG, GREENE COUNTY, PA., WEDNESDAY, JULY 2, 1862. LIFE AND DEATH IN THE OCCUPA TIONS, Few consider what a waste to humble life it has cost to produce the most common articles of use or of luxury. What are called "dry grind ers," those who are occupied in giv ing edge and point to razors, forks, scissors, edge tools, knives, saws, and sickles, live on an average from twen ty-nine to thirty-eight years, the lon gevity being greatest where most• wa ter is used on the stone. If the stone is left perfectly dry, the friction of the article ground upon the stone causes it to throw off an impalpable dust which, when inhaled, is fatal to health and life. Underground occupations,in which England has 300,000 human beings constantly engaged, are far more fa tal to life than those which are con ducted in the open air. From four to seven per cent. of those who work in the mines die by accident, and multitudes of lives are cut short by the damp earth with which they are surrounded. Fevers from brick-ma king are at the rate of thirty-three and a half per cent., while those from brick-laying are only twenty-one per cent. Only eight per cent. of them are attacked by fevers, because they work in . the open air. The workers in sewers are said to be singularly exempt from disease. Butchers are also a remarkably robust race, show ing that animal odors are by no means as unhealthy as they are of fensive. Tanners are singularly ex empt from consumption, and those who work in wool are peculiarly free from disease in general, the oil which they use being fhvorable to health. Millers, potters, and snuff- makers are liable to consumption, from the amount of crude matter which they inhale. Whatever interferes con stantly with the free breathing of pure air, shortens life. Those who work in the air have a greater lon gevity than those who, work in-doors. The gardener, the laborer, the thatch er, the drover, and all who toil in wind and rain and sun, have, at be tween twenty and thirty, much long er to live than the coachman, the watchman, and those who, though equally working in the open air, do not take so much regular exercise. How little do those who enjoy the conveniences and luxuries of our-mod ern civilization realize at what a sac rifice of human life many of them are obtained. " The lady," says the Ed inburgh Review, "who surveys her drawing room, may learn a lesson of compassion for the workman in every article that lies before her. Those glazed visiting cards could tell of the paralyzed hands that made them; that splendid mirror which lights up the stately room, has reflected the emaciated form of the Italian artifi cer, poisoned with mercurial fumes; those hangings, so soft and delicate, may have produced permanent dis ease to the weaver, whose stomach has been injured by its constant pres sure against the beam ; the porcelain vase on the bracket has dragged the dipper's hand into a poison that soon er or later will destroy its power, and may produce in him mania and death ; nay, the very paper on the walls, tinted with all the whiteness of Spring, has, for all we know, ul cerated with its poisonous dust the fingers of the hanger. The history of the mannfacture of almost every article of elegance, or vertu, would disclose to us pictures of workmen transiently or permanently disabled in the production of them. All this suffering—much of it preventible— goes on without complaint, the work man falls out of the ranks, and an other instantly takes his place, to be succeeded by a third."—.2Vew York chronicle. MEXICO. The loyal people of this country cannot help exulting in the success of the Mexi cans against the French, because it is an American success. Nor can they help re joicing at the total, absolute rupture of the triple alliance under which the invasion of Mexico was begun. It was a wanton attempt, on the part of three great govern ments, to destroy a weak one, and the at tempt was purposely made at a time when the United States Government was too much engaged with its domestic troubles to he able to assist a neighbor republic, and give a . practical illustration of the Monroe doctrine. The French, abandoned by their Eng lish and Spanish allies, had the audacity to attempt alone what was regarded as a serious work for the three powers. What ever may have been the real motives of the Emperor Napoleon, the English and Spanish plenipotentiaries must have had very gciod reasons for distrusting him.— At all events, they left his troops to fight alone against the Mexicans. In three or four successive engagements with the Mexicans, these French troops, many of whom were the trained heroes of the Crimea, of Magenta, and of Solferina, have been defeated. The Mexicans seem to be aston ished at their own successes, and the re ports of them, Official and private, are very modest. • But that the French were defeated and'coinPelled to retreat is undis puted. The fallfire of the French puts in still sir:lnger lighi theittilliant nunCessesof our I little army in Mexico in the years 1846 and 1847. Not once were we defeated, al though scores of engagements occurred. Puebla, before which the French were re pulsed, was taken by us without difficulty. and from there to the capital Gen. Scott's army had a series of hard fights, in every one of which it was victorious. The Mexidans were as good soldiers then as they are now, and had a much larger and better organized army. The failure of the French now is surprising, and it-makes us estimate the fighting qualities of Amer ican soldiers higher than ever. It remains to be eeen what effect the recent reverses will pioduce in France ; whether the invasion will be abandoned, or whether a larger army will be sent over, to make the subjugation of the Mex icans certain. It will be a costly business, both in treasure and in blood, and it will not astonish any one, if Louis Napoleon, after calculating the cost, should abandon it. SABBATH BELLS. Said Daniel Webster: "I once defend ed a man charged with the awful crime of murder. At the conclusion of the trial asked him what could induce him to stain his hands in the blood of a fellow-being. Turning his blood-shot eyes fully upon me, he answered in a voice of dispair, "Mr. Webster, in my youth, I spent the holy Sabbath in evil amusement, instead of frequenting the house of prayer and praise." Could we go back to the early years of all hardened crimnals, I firmly believe, that their first departure from the path of morality was, when they aban doned the Sabbath-school, and their subse quent crimes might thus be traced back to the neglect ofyouthful religious instruc- tion. • "Many years ago, I spent a Sabbath with Thomas Jefferson, at his residence in Virginia. It was in the month of June, and the weather was delightful. I remark ed, "How very sweetly sounds that Sab bath bell !" That distinguished states man for a moment seemed lost in thought, and then replied—" Yes, my dear Webster, yes, it melts the heart, it calms our pas sions, and makes us boys again." FOIYAN'S TOMB. A new tomb has been erected over the grave of the author of "The Pil grim's Progress" in Bunhill Fields Burial Ground, City Road, London. The requisite funds for this memor ial have been raised by public sub scription. The length of the tomb is about seven feet, and the height rath er over four feet. On the top, in a re clining posture, with book in hand, is the carved effigy of John Bunyan, in stone, with the head resting on a pillow, the length of the figure being five feet eight inches. On the North side, in relief, is a stone panel repre senting Christian starting on his pil grimage with the burden on hi . s'back: and on the South side Christian is represented as in the act of reaching the cross, and the burden falling from his shoulders. At the East end of the tomb is the following inscrip tion, engraved on a• piece of the old stone: "John Bunyan, author of 'The Pilgrim's Progress;' ob. 31st August 1788; wt. 60." OVERDOSING. Dr. llohnes has little faith in hom eopathy, but quite as little in the cur ative power of drugs, or the expedi ency of the large doses which many allopathic physicians give their pa tients. In this lecture on "Currents and Counter Currents," he uttered the following wholesome truths, which startled some of the faculty : Invalidism is the normal state of many organisms. It can be changed to disease, but never to absolute health by medicinal appliances.— There are many ladies, ancient and recent, who are perpetually taking remedies for irremediable pains and aches. They ought to have head aches, and backaches, and stomach aches ; they are not vc ell if they do not have them. To expect them to live without frequent twinges, is like expecting a doctor's old chaise to go without creaking; if it did, we might be sure the springs were broken.— There is no doubt that the constant demand for medicinal remedies from patients of this class, leads to their overuse; often in the case of cathar tics, sometimes in that of opiates. I will venture to say this, that if every specific were to fail utterly; if the chincona trees all died out, and the arsenic mines were exhausted, the sulphur burned up; if every drug from the vegetable, animal and min eral kingdom were to disappear from the market ; a body of enlightened men, organized as a distinct profes sion, would be required just as much as now, and respected and trusted as now, whose province should be to guard against the causes of disease; to eliminate them, if possible, when still present; to order all the condi tions of the patient so as to favor the efforts of the system to right itself, and to give those predictions of the course of disease which only experi ence can warrant, and which, in so many cases, relieve the exaggerated fbars of sufferers and their friends, or warn them in season of imp ding danger. Great ail the lose woad he, if certain active remedies could no longer be obtained, it would leave the medical profession the most essential part of its duties, and all, and more than all, its present share of honors; for it would be the death-blow to charaltanism, which depends for its success almost entirely on drugs, or at least a nomenclature that Suggests them. There is no offence, then, or dan ger, in expressing the opinion that, after all that has been said, the community is still overdosed. The best proof of it is, that. no families take so little medicine as those of doctors, except those of apothecaries, and that old practitioners are more sparing of . active medicines than younger ones. AN AFFECTING SCENE AT "OLD BAILEY." By recent English papers we are placed in possession of the particu lars of an affecting scene that trans pired at a late trial at old Bailey, Lord Chief Justice Tindale presiding. It is a sad picture of real life, but the finding of the jury in the case gives evidence that there are yet some noble hearts in calloused Brit ain. The tale, at once so sad and pleasing, is thus related: George Hammond, a portrait painter, was placed at the bar, to be tried on an indictment found against himself by the Grand Jury, for the wilful murder, with malice afore thought, of George Baldwin, a rope dancer and mountebank. The pm-. oner was a man of medium height, but slender form. His eyes were blue and mild. His whole bearing gave evidence of subdued sadness and melancholy resignation. He was 41 years of age, had a soft voice, and his appearance and man ner bore evidence of his being a man of distinguished education, in spite of the poverty of his dress. On being called out to plead, the prisoner admitted that he did kill Baldwin, and he deplored the act, adding, however, that on his solil and conscience, he did not believe himself guilty. Thereupon .a jury was impaneled to try the prisoner. The indictment was then read to the jury, and the act of killing being admitted, the Government rested their case, and the prisoner was call ed upon for his defense : The prisoner then addressed him self to the Court and Jury : "My Lord," said he, "my justifica tion is to be found in the recital of these facts. Three years ago I lost a daughter, then four years of age, the sole memorial of a beloved wife, whom it had pleased God to recall to himself. I lost her, but I did not see her die. She disappeared—she was stolen from me. She was a charm ing child, and but her I had nobody in the world to love me. Gentle men, what 1 have suffered cannot be described; you cannot comprehend it. I had expended in advertising and fruitless searches, everything I possessed—furnitare, pictures, even to my clothes. All have been sold. For three years on foot I have been seeking for my child in all the cities and all the villages in three king doms. As soon as by painting por traits I had gained a little money, I returned to London to commence my advertisements in the newspa pers. At length, on Friday, the 14th of April last, I crossed the Smith field cattle market. in the centre of the market a troop of mounte banks were performing their feats. Among them a child was turnin g on its head supported on a halberd. A ray from the soul of its mother must have penetrated my own, for me to have recognized my child in that condition. It was my poor child.— Her mother would perhaps have pre cipitated hersolfto wards her,and lock ed herself in her arms. As for me, a veil passed over my eyes. I knew not how it was—l, habitually gentle, even to weakness, seized him by the clothes—raised him in the air, then dashed him to the ground—then again ; he was dead. Afterward I repented what I had done. At the moment I regretted that I was able to kill but one." Lord Chief Justice Tindale— "These are not Christian sentiments. How can you expect the Court and jury to look with favor on your de fense, or God to pardon you, if you cannot forgive ?" Prisoner--" [ know, My Lord, what will be your judgment, and that of the jury; but God has par doned me; I feel it in my heart.— You know not, I knew not then, the whole extent of evil that man had done. When some compassionate people brought me my daughter in prison, she was no longer my child; she was no longer pure and angelic as formerly; she was corrupt, body and soul—her manner, her language, infamous, like those with whom she had been living. I did not recognize her myself. Do you comprehend now? That man had robbed me of the love and soul of my child. And I—l have killed him but once." Foreman—"My, lord, we have agreed on our verdict." Chief Justice—"l understand you, gentlemen, but the law must take its course. I must suu up the eau.), and then you will retire to deliber- ' Alas! that with all the so caned ate." , improvements of our advanced civil ! The Chief Justice having summed ization, the fire should be permitted up the case, the jury retired and in to go out forever in our old-fashioned an instant returned into Court with, fire-places, thus burying in the ashes a verdict of "Not guilty." home of t he comfortpas tto ,m goodan y means cheer health,o a f nd hap On the discharge of Hammond, 1 , the sheriff was obliged to surround piness.—Scientific Amer. ! him with an escort. The women .....4. were determined to carry him off in ! triumph. The crowd followed him "WHAT WE ARE COMING TO." all the way to his lodgings with deaf- Under this caption, the London ening shouts and huzzas. (Madison county,O.) Democrat of the - - sth inst., has an srticleilrom which A SECOND MOSES. we clip the following : A Harrisburg paper states that, Our own county is already begin during the terrible freshet of week ninpo enjoy the first fruits of the before last, a cradle was seen coming "got time coming." We are inform down the rushing waters near Man- ed that a few days since a certain adaville, and being suspected of con- farmer, not many miles distant, has taining something, it was watched discharged all his white &riff' hands by several persons for three or four and had employed eighteen of the miles, expecting it would at some negroes sent hitherward by Col. Moo point of its journey come near enough dy, , at twelve and a half cents per to the shore that it would be safe in day I Laboring men of Madison ! venturing after it in a boat. At last, i this is only a foretaste of the bless at a bend in the swollen stream, the ings in store for you. cradle came sufficiently near that it Sure enough! What are the white was secured, when lo ! and behold up- laboring classes of Pennsylvania com on lifting up a light covering, a beau- ing to ? tiful babe looked up and smiled ! We j In this city and vicinity hundreds remember of reading in that sweet ,of runaway slaves have taken up book of old, of a time when thetheir quarters aid have successfully : daughter of one of Egypt's proud , entered into competition with our rulers went to the river to bathe, white laborers, by offering) work when something was seen in the dis- for low wages. We hear of numer tance, to bring which one of her ous cases in our immediate neighbor maids was sent, when upon opening, hood where white men have been a babe was seen, which looked up turned away by their employers to and smiled. The above incident make room for "contrabands," whose brought this ancient one to mind.— services are obtained for half price. A kind person took the little one in This may suit. capital, but does it suit charge, and although a week has white labor ? Is this incipient revo elapsed, and inquiry upon inquiry has lution in the labor of the North in been made, no clue to the history of accordance with the glowing pictures the little stranger has been discover- of future prosperity, the warm pro ed. ! fession of sympathy held out by the OLD-FASHIONED COMFORTS. Our ancestors were a frugal, self- ' fortunately enveigled them from their denying people, inured to hardships ' allegiance to the Democratic party, from the cradle; they were content which, alone, has ever represented to be without almost all the luxuries and defended the interest of labor of life, but they enjoyed some of its ' against the oppressive and usurping comforts, to which many of us are tendencies of capital ! . strangers, (old-fashioned comfort, we Does "the dignity of labor," a cant may say,) and among these, the old phrase of the Republicans, consist in fireplace, as it used to be termed, the degradation of white men doom held no mean rank. How vividly the .ed to compete for a day's work with picture of one of those spacious kitch- , hordes of half-starved nefroes, forced ens of the olden tidies comes to our , upon us by the destructive policy of mind, with its plain furniture and the Abolitionists ? That policy is de sanded floor; innocent of paint, but populating the fields of the South and as white as the neatest of housewives ' and leaving to sterility and waste, could make it! In one corner stood' while it is depriving the Northern la the clock, its very face wearing an borer of his wages and ivadrupling aspect of good cheer, and seeming to his taxes ! How long will the peo smile benignantly upon a miniature pie of the North blindly believe in moon over its head, which tradition the false pretences of these political said had, at a remote period, followed , mountebanks ?—Patriot & Union. the rising and setting of its great prototype in the heavens, though its days of active service were long over. But the crowning glory of that kitchen was not its sanded floor, nor the high desk, with its pigeon-holes and secret drawers, which no ven turesome youngster ever dared in- vade; nor yet the old clock ticking so musically in the corner; but it was the old-fashioned fire place, with its blazing embers, huge back-logs, and iron fire-dogs, that shed a glory over the whole room, gilded the plain and homely furniture with its bright light, and rendered the place a type of true New England homes in "ye olden time." Never were thete such apples as those which swung round a.nd round upon strings before the bright fire of' a winter's evening, never such baked potatoes as those buried in the ashes upon the hearth, never such corn stalks as those which caught a gold en hue from the blazing embers, or turkeys like those turned upon a split, filling the room with savory odors so suggestive of a dainty repast. Before the fire was the wooden set- tle, and here the children were wont to sit in the long evenings, telling stories, cracking nuts, conning their lessons for the morrow, or listening in silence to the words of wisdom that fell from the lips of their superiors, and anon gazing in silence into the bright fire, and conjuring up all sorts of grotesque fanciful images from among the burning coals. No fabled genii, with their magic lamps of en chantment, could build such gorgeous palaces, or create such gems as the child could discern amid the blazing embers of the old-fashioned fire-place. And we must not neglect the chim ney-corner, where sat our grandfath er in his accustomed seat, his hair silvered with the tinows of many win ters—a venerable man, to whom old age had come "frostily. but kindly," and whose last days were like those of an Indian summer, serene and beautiful, even till the stars appeared in heaven. How pure was the air in those them ; rebuke them net, for doubtless ma days ! The huge fire-place, with its ny have been the crosses ait,l trials of ear brisk draught, carried off the impuri- Her years, and perhaps their dispoeitiens, ties of the atmosphere, and left the while in the springtime of life, were'Mor. air pure, life-giving and healthful-- flexible than thine own. Do they image Now, we crouch around hot cooking aid of thee? Then render it oltedEfelY stoves, and think it strange'that we forget not that the time may 001116 when feel so stupid and drowsy of an even thou ma est desire the same assistant* rd incr or we huddle about air-tight f rom others trom others that thou renderest unto them. stoves, and wonder the air seems burning and impure; or we sit down Do all that is needful for the old, and do it in chilly rooms heated by a furnace, with alacrity, and think it is milliard it and marvel that with all oar costly much is required et thy band, koh l when furniture, soft citrp i ds, bright mirrors, age sets its seal on thy brow ;ad Os thy and demist* curtains, they are'theer- limb with trembling, 6406'1414 , wait un less places- willingly, ---so nulike our ideas of a and' feel mile*** trkweidt m Now England hoe,i 1 lifk-lid has hid thy me torevec. NEW SERIES.--VOL. 4, NO. 5; Republican 43 as a lure to the white laborers of the North when the an- A STRONG BUT JUST STATEMENT. Mr. Senator Ten Eyck, Republi can of New Jersey, in the course of some remarks on the tax bill, pend ing in the Senate on Thursday last, made the following just and forcible reference to the high and holy sanc tions which binds the loyal people of the Union to a sacred observance of the Constitution in all its limita tions as well as in its grants of pow er. The S enator evidently has no respect for the opinion of those who heedlessly charge that all who in voke 'constitutional scruples,' in the matter of punishing rebels, are them selves 'rebels at heart.' He said : 'Sir, all our measures here should be to save th;3 Union and the Consti tution. This war is for the Consti- tution and to compel obedience to it. In carrying on this war, and provid ing means for that purpose, we can not wilfully overthrow or violate it ; if we do, then every article of prop erty is a robbery, and every man we kill constitutes a murder. Sir, we are able to crush the rebellion and still preserve the. Constitution unbro ken and unimpaired. If, with our superiority in men and means, we will not ao it, then we deserve. to fail.' BE KIND TO THE AGED. Age, when whitening for the tomb, is set object of sublimity. The passions have ceased—hopes of self have ceased. They linger with the young, and pray for the young while their spirits are looking be yond the grave —and oh! bow careful should the young be to reward the aged with their fresh warm hearts, tOediminish the chill of ebbing life. The Spartans looked upon a reverential respect for old age as a beautiful trait of character. Be kind to those who are in the autumn of life, for thou knowest not what suffering they may have endured, or how rweh of it may still be their portion. Do they seem unreasonable, to find fault and murmur Allow not thine anger to kindle against
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers