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