, R 51. t t.; 4 ? ~ 2.*'; . . . - ----... • ~ ----....._ , ,-. ~ . • ---, ,----......./ ~ ' _ ( a ‘ 1 ‘.7 " . ' . ' . . . 1 . , . ' - * S.-- - , • ` s, , . . : . --. • r * N 1 • ( "N' • - •••• ‘ 1 1 i -, p ir iv,. I ‘ \ ' , \ c * 1: 1 ....._. >"--- ....................111-4(..'-----'•;:i'l.,-\:-41....L -kit::,. (lc .% - -N k / ' • • 1 \ N 00... . - %Th / tittehig imitat---glettotat In olitio, Agriculture, Niteraturt, lore*, pomestic antt Otani #ntelligetta, ESTABLISHED IN 1813. E IikYNESBMG MESSENGER, PDBLISRED BY ' fis W. JONES AND JAS. S. JENNINGS. Waynesburg, Greene County, Pa. rOFFICE NEARLY OPPOSITE THE PUBLIC squ ARE. _Ea 12 3 )2 Ea M Et 'BoascairrioN.-92.00 in advance; WM at the ex crtratlou of six months; 62.50 after the expiration of the year. ADVEIRTISISIIIENTS inserted at $1.2.5 per square for three insertions, and 37 cts. a square for each addition al insertion; (ten lines or less counted a square.) pa" h libetal deduction made to yearly advertisers. I la" Joe PRI Nairm, of all kinds, executed in the best owls, and on reasonable terms, at the "Messenger" Job °Ace. quesburg Yiusintss ifia6s. JILTTORNEYS J. A. J. BUCHANAN, D. B. P. HUBS Oft. b. WTLV WYLY; BITCHANAN & HUSS, A t toriney, Ar. Counsellors at Laing 'WAYNESBURG, PA. v'fil prartke in the Courts of Greene and adjoining si ost rit ii es . c o lle c tions and other legal business wilt re ceive prompt attention. ' Office on the South side of Main street, in the Old ' , nk Huihttilit. . Jan. 28, 1868.-13, 4. A . PIS'RT4A7I PURMAN & RITCHIE. irTTODRNEYS AND COUNSELLORS AT L W Waynesburg, Pa. Offir•OFFirs—Main Street, one door east of 111 e old Btnk Building. tErAtl ,usiness di Greene, Washington, and Fay Otte Counties, entrusted to them, will receive promp attention. N. b —Particular attention will he given to the col *fiction of Penelope. Bounty Money , Back Pay, and 48iher claims against, the Government. dept. 11, letil—lv. it. A. I'CONMELL. J. J. HUFFMAN. 3MINDONNLIMI & $Q N, 4TrO&WE]s AND COUNSELLORS AT LAW • Waynesburg, Pa. Flollnee In the "Wright Ikt.se," East Door. eeMons, Arc., will receive prompt attention. synneburg, April 23, 1562-Iy. DAVID CRA WFORD, csyn- ey and Counsellor at Law. Office in the House. Will attend promptly to alLbusiness railed to his care. ' eshurg. Pa.,Jitly 30, 1883.—1 y. i. SLANE SLACK & PHELAN, irTTORNEY4 AND COUNDELLoRS AT LAW °thee in the Court House, Waynesburg. 'Sept. 11,1861—1 v. • iOLXII.IIIIAP WAR CLAIMII D. R. t ---- . HUSS , • AVTONINBY A? LAW, WAVNESBURG, PIENNAt.., "Ur Ltd received front the War Department at Wash- JIM ingron city, D. C., official copies of the several firms passed by Congress, and all the necessary Forms ,ltd Jturtructionslur the prosecution and collection of ,pICJVTIONS, BOUNTY, BACK PAY, due dis roil and disabled soldiers, their widows, orphan then, widowed mothers, fathers, sisters and broth which ' . business, [upon due notice] will be attend. itraptly and accnratclyif entrusted to his care. ir in the old Bank Butliling.—April 8, 1863. U. W. U. WADDELL, * d TTORNEY & COUNSELLOR AT LAW, FFIGE in the REGISTER'S OFFICE, Court House, Waynesburg, Penna. Business of all i solicited. Has received official copies of all the I'l4 s passed by Congrees, and other necessary instruc ens for the collection of . ENSIONS, BOUNTIES, BACK PAY, discharged and disabled soldiers, widows, Orphan reo, &c., which butioess if intrusted to his care 1 I. promptly attended to. May 13, '63. PELYSICIANS Dr. T. W. Ross, Zsrla.Vaile,litari. slb Nitaiarse•cort, Waynesburg, Greene Co., Pa. gni-FMB AND RESIDENCE ON MAIN STREET, east, and nearly opposite the Wright house. nartiteg, Sept. 23, 1823. DR. A. G. CROSS WWILD very respectfully tender his services as a, PaYSICIAN AND BURGEON, to the people or nosburg and vicinity lie hopes by a due appre anionl of human life and health, and strict attention to lanirAness. to merit a share of public patronage. Waynesburg. January 8, 1862. ZWCROILANTS WM. A. PORTER, mid Retail Dealer in Foreign and Domes y Goode. Groceries, Notions, &c., Main west. 6pt. 11, 186r-ly. R.. CLARK , • ihjafor In Dry Goads, Onliceties, Hardy:fare, Queens am, and notions,iii that Hamilton Ifouse, opposite . oOnn Ilittuau, Main street, Sept. 11, 18151-Iy. - MINOR & CO., ititsileri in Foreign and Domestic Dry Goods, Gro Queenews.ie, Hardware and Notions, opposite ithe Green lionnlt. Main street. Sept. 11, beim AND SHOE DEALERS J. D. COSGRAY, gisssail Shoe maker, Main street, nearly opposite tberrater's and Drover's Hank." Every style of Y ad Ilivoes constantly on band or made to order. JUL, teel—ly. • • • . AxAgßuass & vibitizrnms. ...________,. JOSEPH YATER, aster ei In GtOraties acrd Confectioneries, Notions, i l l co . r ow giimarfos, Liverpool Ware, &e., Glass of aft . Mid Gilt Moulding and Looking Glass Plates. paid Oor good eathig A pp!es. i p iati 11, ill—ly. _ .. - JOHN MUNNELL, Dealer in Groceries and Confectionaries, and V ar i e ty ", 4 1. Gesmay.4l l lfileck'd New Building, Main street. Sepetr: Ider—dy. vpfjkercntCS AND JEWELRY S. Di. BAILY, .street, opposite the Wright House keeps j o i repilub hand a large and gasket •ftasortusent of Wier and Jewelry. Pairing of Clocks, Watches and Jewelry wit att•PAI1011. Mee. 15. 1861-1 y _ _ • BOOKS. &c. LEW IS DAY, . m iler In Sciionl and Mivellenenua Books, Station- Mitilkanea and Paiient; One door east of ran/lei More. Main Mtreet. gem. 11. 1116 i 11/ • suLDZWIRS AND KARNES& Att,IFUEL M'ALLISTER, fiddlea;Hamm and Traak Mann-. aid Bask Build- VANE RIP &DRO VERS' RANK, • i5“14411, agskiari t Cv4l,lo4s'Mmilt 1611. w • a. ow -64 , .70 iutMum. It is -the morning after the news of a great battle. Yesterday, flying rumors— ethereal escapements from • the telegraph wire caught the ear of now and then one, but the morning's paper spreads out upon its inside—`A Great Battle going on V—Fed erals victorious !—Loss on both sides very severe !" We clutch the damp, folded sheet from the nearest news buy, and glance down the column headed "Last night's telegraph."— It is true—another of those desperate col lisions between men of the same language, and blood, has come. But here is no official signature—we doubt the story—we want an excuse to disbelieve it. We have grown familiar with a style of newspaper filling called sensation rumors.— Thrice have we been two days in terror for the safety of the National Capitol, and twice have we, with incredible simplicity, illumina ted for the taking of Richmond. No more of that ! We re-peruse the telegram—it must be true, and our souls are filled with a sudden and awful sense of the mighty inter ests that are being decided in so fearful a manner. For two days the fight has been going on—it is raging still ; God only knows what the end will be ! J. U. TRITCHIZ It is a glorious morning of September—a summer day, with the last perceptible haze of autumn over its ripe lovliness. The full eastern light whitens the statue among the trees of the Park, and makes glistering sil very plumes of the jets of the fountain. The very curb stones have looked cheerful as we stepped along, and' the new spring and freshness of morning activity has given the streets a pleasant air of busy life, and seem ed to reanimate the very dray horses in their heavy harness. But a change has come over it all now.— A gloom is between us and the sun; there is a taint of blood in the autumnal air—the bustle of business and hum of trade grate on our ears. Can they not cease for a mo-• ment, while the weal . or woe of millions is trembling in the balance ? We are trans ported in fancy to the distant field, and stand amid its battle smoke. We see the long, surging lines of living men within it. The yell of onset, the thunder of artillery, the screams of mortal agony—we hear them all. 1213:1=1213 In the foremost column, passing under a cloud that will hide the sun forever to many who are entering it, there are faces and forms familiar to us, hands that we clasped, bidding God speed, are grasping those bay onets, brows that have beamed in the light of our fire-sides are under those soldier caps, blackened with powder—and Oh, there is ONIL somewhere there, dearer to us than anything else the earth contains. Where is he? It is of 11131 we have been think ing from the first moment. He must be in the fight. There is a picture store on the street where we are passing, and the engravings in its windows have never failed to arrest our steps. There is a landscape in South America, where the rugged outlines of in accessible peaks under a glowing tropical sky, make a strange mingling of Patagonia and Italy. Near it is placed, 'the 'Huguenot Lovers.' You see they are parting on the Eve of St. Bartholomew. Mechanically we turn towards the window and stand gazing for the hundreth time. But the vine oovercd wall, with the sad, tender figures in its shadow—the peaks of the Andes, and the wonders between their crimson-lighted recesses, are as though we saw them not.— We are saying to ourselves continually, Shall we be victorious ? Is ho living or dead ? Turning abruptly away, we are aware that a group of men near by are reading a large placard just placed upon a board.— "Latest News" it reads, in large, disjointed, blue . letters. "A Battery Captured! Our loss ten thousand ! The Seventh made a gallant charge—The most bloody battle of the %far !" One and another stops to read, and passes silently on. We do not know how many with these staring announce ments take up a burden as heavy as our own. It all may or may not be true. Two ladies are near us, pleasantly chat ting over the morning shopping. How can they think of that now ? Are any of all this throng, intent on their, pleasure or their gain—thinking what it is to rush up to the mouths of blazing cannot', to march stead ily at the word of command thrbrigh a rain whose drops pierce flesh, and beam, and brain—to see in the distance a heap of the dead, and the Star-Spangled Banner clutch ed from their stiffening bands by the inso lent foe. And this is going on now—it is being done for us, who walk this pavement in safety, while they are struggling and dy ing there. Ten thousand lost!, Can it,. *I possible that he will escape ? Is his dela body lying there essegled, tratopleil , tbat heat whose boyish curls lay on osr ,kiseenfit We talked of him at our Inernikqieta-Ae had received our last htter and figi piOne..:was it , of our dead son we s p e sid4l - Ot t Wlifindisil, lidly so that he can nver be From the Journal and Messenger Our Soldier Son. WAYNESBURG, GREENE COUNTY, PA., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 23, 1864. whole again ? Yesterday we were looking through a photagraph album, and a dear, noble face caught our attention. "He was shot at Gettysburg," they said, " and the last we knew of him he was lying in an out house, with his mutilated companions, beg ging for water." Oh, God ;—to think our boy may be lying just so now, and the re freshing streams of this fountain playing here, and running to waste ! But these forebodings are unmanly and wicked. He may be safe. We shall know soon. The first news is always disrorted.— We are &fon absorbed in the prospects of the impending election, and are only conscious of an undefined something that would mar our peace if we should think of it. As we enter the door of our home, we see his hat hanging just where he placed it when it was exchanged for the soldier's cap. We have never moved it. There is a sharp pang as we see it. Days go by. The papers have long details of the battle. We read them every one.— We follow his Division through all. If "fought bravely" we read with pride, and then, with another feelin —it "suffered.ter ribly." Searching—we eel rather than see —one day, casualties in the ----th 0. V. I. that was his regiment—many names strange names—on; on to the end—not his name, thank God! Ile must be safe, then. We are glad this anxiety is over. Yet it would be better if there was a letter from him—he always writes—but the mails are irregular at . such a time. We are at the Post Office morning and evening, among all the letters looking only for the one directed in his hand. It does not come. One even ing a friend silently hands in a paper con taining full returns. We read it, and know that one boy is wounded and missing. The 'great cloud that has been lowering over the horizon, of our home rolls up over it. There is silenoe at the_ household board, and pale faces and tearful eyes gather around the ev ening lamp. 'Wounded and missing' seems written on every hand. A prisoner, likely—. that is a dreadful word to us. Was ho slightly wounded, perhaps, and will soon be exchanged? Was hand or foot shot away, and did the rebel surgeons handle him ten derly ? Is there no way we can reach him, and send him something from Lome ? Ev ery household comfort and luxury—the clean bed at night and the refreshing bath in the morning—the snow-white table, the fresh butter, and many a favorite dish of his—we take them with the bitter thought that he is deprived of all. But we will not think him dead. Our boy will come again, and we will nurse him so tenderly in that room of his that he will forget the pain of his wounds, and with all the home circle clasped around him, he shall tell us the story of his captivi ty, as if it were a legend of long ago. His mother and the old doctor will soon have him up again. A week ago, we said thus to ourselves as we went np the Post Office steps half ex pecting to find the long looked for letter.— A strange voice accosted us---Ure you Mr. 7"Yes sir,' You had a son in the 87th Ohio ?"Yes."l was on my way to to your office. I was taken prisoner at the same time, and was with him when he died.' There was a pause unbroken, and the voice went on : 'He was shot in the side and in the face, but he lived two days. We were all in an old shd, and didn't have anything to eat but some corn meal, and that isn't the stuff for a wounded man. When I found who he was I did everything I could for him, but the rascals took everything from•us. He could not speak much, being so wound ed, but he made out to ask me to cut off a piece of his hair, and if ever I got back to bring it to you, and he said tell you that he wasn't sorry to die for his country.' What more was said of the last hours we scarcely knew then. A half hour afterward we were walking alocg the lake shore, the autumn winds breaking over its angry wa ters, and a folded piece of soiled paper held tightly in our hands. How shall his moth er be told of this ? `lf it is possible, let this cnp pass from, me nevertheless,'—we could not finish the prayer then. And now the hat that hung so long in the ball, and the boots drew off last—all the fa miliar things that were his are laid away in the darkened and silent room we were going to make so pleasant for him Ivhen he came Home. In a secret drawer in the library is a lock of dark brown hair—we have but just glanc ed at it, but we know it is matted and stif fened at the end. It is all we shall ever see of our cherished son. Voltaire's last Words. Voltaire was fertile and elegant, his ob servations are very acute, yet he often be trays great ignorance when he treats on subjects of ancient learning. Madame de Talmotad once said to him; "I think, air, that a philosopher should never write but with the endeavor to render mankind less wicked and unhappy than they are. Now you ao rite the •contrary; you are always writing against that religion which alone is able to restrain. wickedness, and to afford us consolation under misfortunes." Voltaire was stanch etre*, and excused himself by gulfs that he only wrote for those who were o f the Bathe *Mon as himself. Tron chin armiatilds Metals that Voltaire died in great agonies of mind. "I die forsaken b if t/4 4. 4. • elcif#l 4 4l',lle tAttiP lamen t". truth will for its war. "I lithat those vhp had' • ifiroandi—br. witiv : hed , beeir mhipitafogt walla* 004airigt f rOV aIP *M i t . Philosophy of Exercise. All know that the less we exercise the less health we have, and the more certain are we to die before our time.— But comparatively few persons are able to explain how exercise does ! promote health. Both beast and bird, in a state of nature, are exempt froW disease, ex cept in rare eases ; it is because the un appearable instinct of searching for their necessary food impels them to ceasless activities. Children, when left to them selves, eat a great deal and have excel lent health, because they will be doing something all the time, till they become so tired they fall asleep ; and as soon as they wake they begin right away to run about again ; thus their whole ex istence is interesting and pleasur able. The health of childhood would be enjoyed by those of maturer years, if, like children, they would eat only when they are hungry, stop when they have done, take rest in sleep as soon as they are tired, and - when not eating or resting, would spend their time diligent ly in such muscular activities as . would be interesting, agreeable, and profitable. Exercise without mental elasticity, with out an enlivenment of the feelings and the mind, is of comparatively little val ue. 1. Exercise is health producing, be cause it works of and out of the sys tem its waste, dead, and effect matters ; these are all converted into a liquid form, called by some "humors," which have exit from the body through the "pores" of the skin, in the shape of prespiration, which all have seen, and all know is the result of exercise, when the body is in a state of health. Thus it is, that persons who do not perspire, who have a dry skin, are always either feverish or chilly and are never well, and never can be as long as that condi tion exists. So exercise, by working out of the system its waste, decayed, and useless matters, keeps the human machine "free ;" otherwise it would soon clog up, and the wheels of life would stop forever'. 2. Exercise improves the. health, be cause every step a man takes tends to impart motion to the bowels ; a proper amount of exercise keeps them acting once in every twenty-four hours; if they have not motion enough, there. is constipation, which brings on very many fatal diseases, hence exercise, es pecially that of walking, wards off in numerable diseases, when it is kept up to an extent equal to inducing one ac tion of the bowels daily. 3. Exercise is healthful, because the more we exercise the faster we breath. If we breathe faster, we take that much more air into the lungs ; but it is the air we breathe which purifies the blood, and the more air we take in, the more per fectly is that process performed ; the purer the blood is, as everybody konws, the better the health must be. Hence, when a person's lungs are impaired, he does not take in enough air for the wants of the system ; that being the case, the .air he does breathe should be the purest possible, which is outdoor air. Hence, the more a consumptive stays in house, the more certain and more speedy is his death. Rules for Winter. Never go to bed with cold or damp feet. In going into a colder air, keep the mouth resolutely closed, that by compelling the air to pass circuitously through the nose and head, it nay be come warmed before reaching the lungs, and thus prevent the shocks and sudden chills which frequently end in pleurisy, pneumonia, and other serious forms of disease. Never sleep with the head in the draft of an open door or window.— Let more cover be on the lower limbs than on the body. Have an extra cov er within easy reach in ease of a sudden and great change in the weather during the night. Never stand still a moment out of doors, especially at street corners, after having walked even a short dis tance. Never ride near an open window of a vehicle for a single half minute, es pecially if it has been preceded by a walk ; valuable lives have thus been lost or good health permanently destroyed. Never put on a new boot or shoe in the beginning of a journey. Never wear India rubber in cold, dry weather. If compelled to face a bitter cold wind, throw a silk handkerchief over the face; its agency is wonderful in modifying the cold. Those who are easily chilled on going out of doors, should have some cotten batten attached to the vest or other garment, so as to protect the space between the shoulder-blades be hind, the lungs being attached to the body at that point ; a little there is worth five times the amount over the chest iu front. Never sit more than five minutes at a time with the back against the,fire or stove. Avoid sitting against cushion in the back of pews in churches ; if the uncovered board feels cold, sit erect Without touching it. Never begin a journey until breakfast has been eaten. Mier speaking, singing, or preaching in a warm room in winter, do Dot leave•it for at tenet ten taiautek . and even thou close your mouth, put on the gkixo„ wrap up the neck, sad put on cloak or overcoat before passing out of the d. the neglect oftlteitehmtidd many a and useful maw in Intothatttre Never •a antbyr lkosonnif, ea pada, ititeempliew alma*, • • inirtineateket falafel /pa* foe live-long asslidieuu. it toiliteigAsjaitinwnwenttleatel• Wortre. "Blessed are the Pure in Heart." BY WM. H. BUM/C[OEL They who have kept their spirits' virgin whiteness Undimmed by folly and unstained by sin, And made their foreheads radiant with the brightness Of the pure truth whose temple is within— • - They shall see God. Freed from the thrall of every sinful passion, Iround their pathway beams celestial light; They drink with joy the waters of salvation, A.ml:in His love whose love is infinitel . They shall see God.. Though clouds may darken Into storms around them, The Promise pours through all ita steady rays ; Nor hate can daunt, nor obliquy confound them. 15or earth's temptations lure them from the way That t leads to Goa. They duel see God ! Oh, glorious fruition Of all thett hopes and longings here below They shell see God in beatific vision, And evermore Into his likeness grow— Children of God. So when the measure of their faith Is meted, And angels: beckon from the courts on high-- Filled with all grace, the work divine com pleted, They shall put on their Immortality, And dwell with God. Truth is Stranger than Fiction The Chicago Journal gives the. fol lowing sketch from the Police Court in. that city : The name of Ellen Welch is called by the clerk, and forth from the prison ers' pen walks a disheveled, dirty, halt drunken woman, led by a policeman, who escorts her to the box allotted-for such as she is, between the desks of the Justice and the Clerk. She is not old, but she has outlived her discretion and her virtue. "You're charged with vagrancy— guilty or not guilty ?" says the Clerk, abruptly. The woman answers sullenly, not with a pang of conscience, but to save costs, "Guilty." The policeman who brought her in is sworn, and testifies that he found her upon the street, partially intoxicated, at au unreasonable lam lie has seen her so frequently, of late, and she seem ed to have no regular home, occupa tion, nor habits, save those of the Abas ing kinds. "Five dollars, and ninety days in Bridewell. Call the next ;" and, under this sentence, the poor, depraved Ellen Welch is removed to make her way for another "one more unfortunate," and she is forgotten by the spectators and the newspaper reporterg within 5 min utes afterwards_ Were this all that we knew of poor Ellen Welch, we should never have cumbered our note-book with the in cident ; in fact, our left hand neighbor, who "does" the police sensations for our street cotemporary utters an audible "Pshaw no item there:" —and runs his pencil savagely through the unfortunate vagrant's name, which he had previously noted down. • 1 4- 4 o item there! Isn't there, indeed? Listen :* Ellen Welch was the niece of Daniel O'Connell, the great Irish orator and agitator, the daughter of his sister Mary O'Connell :- and Ellen - Welch could claim as her father the Lord of Kearney Castle—a man of opulence and influence in his section of the country. Ellen had enjoyed all the advantages that such a tither and his position could bestow in her youth, but, alas! in unfortunate hour She bestowed her young affections upon a man to whom her father would not give her hand. He was an officer, but he gave up his position and persuaded her to elope with him. Leaving Ireland, they reached Philadelphia, where they resi ded one year, when death removed the husband. His widow subsequently came to Chicago, where she again mar ried, but her second husband, too, was soon taken from her, by drowning. Thrown upon her own resources, she maintained herself for a time by her needle, bat ere long she fell into disrep utable company, .who defrauded her not only of her clothing, but also of a quar terly stipend of $3O which was bestow ed upon her by her father, through the agency of the parish priest. Grad ually she acquired a taste for spirituous liquors, and then sank deeper _and deeper until her degedation became eomplote• . We have been in the habit of seem - g Ellen' at the Police . Court during the past sixliars, and - what she is to-day die was when . we int 0* her. Poo- . : sewing a orotaititntion as tOngh as iron; it would seem that , naisbaw :diaipaticar . nor the mast sinonelawringies of de lassikery, ' Awe ODY::-1111614 Ariiiiir t * - '; . COUrt :':. ' 1; 7 '...'..„„-: Alp now as she .d six yank igk it 4 - - . =! cares as little about her distinguished ancestors as she did three years ago, when she told us her history, a sketch of which we then published. Her statements were substantiated by relia ble parties, and fully corroborated by a Catholic priest, to whom her quarterly allowance was entrusted. We think it a safe estimate to say that during the past 8 years she has spent three-fourths of her time in con finement. Good natured, jovinl, witty, and smart, it cannot be that she is wed ded to such a life, and low as she has sunk in the social scale, we doubt not that she might be reformed and unclaim ed if a helping hand were extended.— Where are the managers of the Erring Woman's Refuge Duration of Life. With the inheritance of a good con stitution, and with a rational mode of life from first to last, undoubtedly the human race would reach the age of one hundred years and upwards, in health and cheerfulness. The natural life of man appears to be four times as long as the period of growth, or in other wotds, growth occupies one quarter of the nat ural life. The human race, in general, reach maturity in twenty-five years, taking males and females together— males at the age of twenty-eight, fe males at twenty-two. Bad constitu tions come to maturity sooner than that, and remarkably good ones later. Per sons who live to the age of one hun dred years and upwards, without at tention to the rules of health, were no doubt more than thirty years in grow ing. The same proportion of life to growth undoubtedly prevails with all animals and vegetables, from the endu ring elephant to the transient butterfly, and from a spear of grass to.. the big. trees of California, which are known to have grown thousands of years, but whose ages are unknown. By a great many persons health is ignorantly and carelessly destroyed. Almost every one commits slow suicide. Life is short ened at the rate of about twenty-five years. Those who die at seventy-five might have lived twenty-five years longer. In the first place, the constitution de pends on that of the parents. in the next place, injury to health begins be fore birth. Whatever injures the moth er, has the same effects on her unborn child, as errors in diet, hard work, de ficient exercise, care, anxiety, grief, on governed passions, etc., etc. It is ob vious that great prudence on the part of the prospective mother is doubly im portant. After birth, the greatest cause of sickness, and a short life, especially in this country, is wrong eating, which in cludes three faults : too much food, un wholesome cooking; and an unwhole some way of eatinc , after it is cooked.— It is doubtful which of the three faults does most harm. Only a little too much food, or that which is irrationally eaten, deranges the digestion of the meal, which makes it self known by unpleasant feelings.— Overloading the stomach is begun in in fancy. . Too much food checks the trrowt3a of the body, and lays the foun dation of nearly all diseases. Partly from this cause a great part of the young men are slender and round shouldered. A rational abstemiousness preserves health, cheerfulness, and life, to a great age. "Eating to live," makes living to eat, as temperance is a pl',as ure. In old age the stomach loses in a great measure its - power _of digestion, and the food should be lessened accord ingly. Ardent spirits, by calling forth all the powers of digestion, wear out the stomach, and unfit it for food.— Paregoric, from the opium it contains, when given freely to infants to quiet them, dwarfs the body and mind, and destroys the health.—lnvestigator. What Judge Edgerton Says at - Idaho. The Akron (Ohio) Beacon publishes the substance of a conversation with Hon. Sidney Edgerton, formerly mem ber of Congress from this State and now U. S. Judge in the Territory of Idaho. He says the population of the Territory is now about 17,000, brit will probably reachloo,ooo.by next Dec. For ag ricultural purposes the valleys are ex tremely fertile, equaling, if not surpass ing, any portion of the world for raising stock. Cattle require no "foddering," but run out all winter and become fat upon the bunch of buffalo grass, which is very abundant and nutritious. There are no rains there at all, and in the val leys comfiaratively but little snow, but abundant facilities for irrigation, as mountain streams are very numerous and never-failing. Large preparations are being made for agricultural- cultivation in the valleys of Jefferson, Madison and Gallatin, and in Bitter Root large herds of cattle are being raised, and flouring mills are already in operation. Of the mineral resources of the Ter ritory, Judge Edgerton speaks in the most glowing terms, the country being hin quartz lodes, bar and gulch dig . *nos. There are already two quartz tndis . olieratiott p that camein ate in . the seasim ) both takine out large quan tities oftowt - two' more on the :411sy: Tte=barand - ore aloe y th (mob volio work tent,- Sabwalliuraniviftetlimmdidir ,vArsviesviislithisabi 3. •ter E ms 4 qr. die. lookißg calk balm 4 NEW SERIES.---VOL 5, NO. 41. offered the proceeds of a pan of dirt, if he would wash it out Minaelf, the "shake" yielding him the snug little "pile" of $30,05. A Mr. Hacklay also invited him to take a "shake" m)t of his claims, which yielded just s4o. The Judge exhibited some fine samples of quartz, nuggets and fine gold, as well as . some solid bars, the produet,„ ~ef the quartz, all of which were certainly very rich specimens of the precious metal. Want, of cheery Kitchens. A farmer's wife writes as follows on this subject in the New England Far mer. She utters some truths that may be applicable to more than one house keeper who reads this. Very much is written and said-about pleasant and tastefully furnished parlors, but the kitchen is left quite in the back ground, except as it .is described in stories of the olden times Iwith.ponder ous beams overhead, from • which hung festoons of dried pumpkins, apples," &c. It is too important a part of hometo be neglected. The parlor must ber a and airy, and sunshiny ; but the kit may be everywhere there is room for it, with a view from curtainless wicilows of barnyard or the wood pile---no paint or carpets on the floor, no paper on the walls, furnished with chairs and tables, and also with clothes frames and wash tubs, and a line of dish towels over the stove, and a row of old hats, coats and frocks for ornaments. This is a pio ' ture of too many of farmer's kitchinas.— of the place where we housekeepeTs tx pect to spend a considerable portion of our time. No wonder that mothers look careworn, and that farther's whres• and daughters complain of their. field of labor. No wonder that soiled field morning dress are seen ; for clean call co, white. collars and smoothe hair, could never feel at home in a dingy, cheerless kitchen, and a man who will not provide a pleasant one, deserves to take his breakfast every morning oppo site a slovenly looking wife. I think now of one cheerful kitclip, a simple one, to be sure—but the morn ing sun looks in through woodbine and roses, and never goes behind the west ern hills without giving us a good night glance—and the morning glories love to peep in and throw their dancing shadows on the shining floor. The dis tant views of hills and wood lands rusks many a weary burden light by its silent teachings. We sing in such a. kitchen just because we cannot help singing) and a sail, heart has no plaCe there. And now as we, shivering, wrap our shawls about us, vainly endeavoring to convince ourselves that wintiti is'not almost here, yet gladly bring our books and knitting work around the big cook stove for the evening, do husbands and fathers bear my humble plea in behalf, of the 'suffering sisterhood,' and give us a Cheery Kitchen. Sir Wm. Hamilton tells seine marvel lous stories in his lecture on "Memory." Ben Jonson could not only repeat at had written, but whole books he bad read. Neibuhr in his youth was ein ployed in one of the public olliett of Denmark, where part of a book of ac counts having been lost he restorial it from his recollection. Seneca coniPhains of old age, because he cannot- as he once did, repeat two thousand names in the order they were read to him; and avers that on one occasion, when at his studies, two hundred unconneot ed verses having been -pronounces by different pupils of hi 4 preceptor, he re peated them in a reversed order, pro ceeding from the last to the first utter ed; I A. quick and retentive memory, both of words and things, is 'an inval uable treasure, and may be had by any one who will take the pains. Theo dere Parker, when in the divinity school, had a notion that his memory was detective, and needed Jeeking aC ter, and he had an immense chronoitig ical chart hung up in his room, and` tasked himself to commit the contents, • all the names and dates fromr Adam and the year one down to' Nimrod, Ptolemy Soter, Heliogmbulus, sad the rest. Our verbal memory soonest fails its unless we attend to it and keep it froth and in order. A child will stabs*, and recite verbatim easier than 'so eclat, and girls than boys. To keepthe Vett— bal memory fresh, it is capital exercise. to study and recite new languages, or commit and treasure up choice passa ges, making them a part of our mental wealth. A PILL FOR YOUNG LOWNRS.-A gen tleman of this city, who is a devout Christian, and the happy fathef, 9f an° half-a-dozen buxim daughters, Ise ac - opted a novel expedient for 'bitialtiint up the practice certain young men lurid of coming "sparking Sunday night. He makes each of the young ladies iu turn read a chapter in the Bible, and closes the meeting with prayer.—Chica go Journal. THE HEIGHT OR NIAGARA Sui —A detachment of troops reesPilki scouting in the valley of theillatalee , fork of the Columbia river, ms's ' waterfall which is perhaps the real* itt the world. The entire ireittees r;e4 - eke Bunke river pows erne Refill Ili* shear pets ipke. Lee fi1t41164 cet - k than Nimm., Memory. ME F'
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers