MIII I / _, ---,, \__ ~ ~ -.-. . - ,'• . \ i, ) _ ._ _ 1 A l i iiiv ti i Iv ), „. „, 1 11 h . 4 A lt Ail' 1.11 '''"'. ''aiV 1 vo (1. L '--) tt LI i -[:' , iL 1 ' '' ) ' - N— `- • s' -- '4) k t 1171 idtel4 ournat.---Dtboteb . to I ,l,lolifits, Agriculture, Yittraturt, fiartign, comfit anb. 6.entral, *ttiligtatt, ESTABLISHED IN 1813. ii:I4,I‘IOI:IOI4AKM(44 PUBLISHED BY R. W. JONES AND JAS. S. JENNINGS. Waynesburg, Greene County, Pa. ID - OFFICE NEARLY OPPOSITE THE PUBLIC SQUARB..4I 4 .2 3 Lti SUISCIIIPTION.—S2.OO in advance ; *2.25 at the ex piration of six months; $2.50 after the expiration of -the year. Ailveirrisenewre inserted at 61.50 per square for three insertions, and 50 cis. a square MI each addition al insertion; (ten lilies ur less counted a square.) • Er 11 deduction made to yearly advertisers. - 117'. 1 00 PRINTING, of all kinds, executed in the best style, and on reasonable terms, at the "Messenget' Sob °Ace. aguesburg 'fusintss Carbs. ATTORNIITS. I=l A. • • PIIRMAN PUB MAN & ATTORNEYS AND COUNSELLORS AT LAW Waynesburg, Pa. 1/Mr•OFFirce—Main Street, one door east of the old sink Building. Err A ,usiness in Greene, 'Washington, and Fay elle Counties, entrusted to thew, wilt receive pron, Atiesdi )))) . `N. B —Particular attention will he given to the col lection of Pensions, Bounty Money. Back Pay, and ether claims against the Government. Sept. 11, idtii —iv. B. A; IrCONNELL. J. J. 'HUFFMAN. 3111VCONINELL & MFFIVILAN, 4117TORNE YS AND COUNSELLORS AT L.411V Wayhenburip Pa. a - " Office in the Wright lit L.se," East Door. Collections. acc., will receive prompt attention. Waynesburg. April 23, 1862-Iy. DAVID CRA WFORD, Attorney and Counsellor at Law: Office in the • Court House. Will attend promptly to all business estrustml to his care Waynesburg. Pa., July 30, 1863.—1 y. MEE= • BLACK & PiIIELAN, eaTTORIVEits AND COUNSELLORS AT LAW Office in the Court House, Waynesburg. Sept. ILlStil—!v. r .SOLDIZREP WAR CLAMS: D• R. P. HUSS, ATTORNEY AT LAW, WATNEADV6II, pItNNA., lrj AA received from the War Department at Wash ita Imo,' city. D. C., official copies of the several laws_paseed by Congress, and all the necessary Forms and Ristructkins for the prosecution and collection of rxxsioars, BOUNTY. BACK PAY, due dis charged and disabled soldiers, their widows, orphan children, widowed mothers, fathers, sisters and broth. en, which business, [upon due notice) will be attend edto promptly and accnrately if entrusted to his care. OiTicd, No. 2, Campbells Row.—April 8, 1883. PHYSICIANS Dr. T. W. Ross, ..lEnowasicsitazi. des iEttixwasznia., Waynesburg, Greene Co., Pa. Qvilleg AND RESIDENCE ON MAIN STREET, east, and nearly opposite the Wright house. ay uesbtrg, Sept. 23, 1863. DR. A. G. CROSS WOIJLD very respectfully tender his services as a PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON, to the people of • Waynesburg and vicinity. He hopes by a due appre .. elation of bulling life and health, and rano attention to business, to merit a share of ptiblic patronage. Wayneiburg. January 8, 1882. INEROH.A.ITTS WM. A. PORTER, Whoiesate and Retail Dealet in Foreign and Domes I Dry Goods, Groceries, Notions, dec., Main street. Sept. 11.1861-Iy. MINOR & CO., Dealers in Foreign and Domestic Dry Goods, am -caries, Queemiware, Hardware and Notions, opposite else Green House. Mai:. street. Sept. 11, 1861-Iy, BOOT AND SHOE DEALERS. J. D. COSGRAY, -.Boot and Shoe maker, Main street, ii.arly opposite the *Warmer's and Drover's Bank." Every style of Boma and dhoes constantly cia hand or made to order. Sept. It, 1861—ty. GROCERIES & VARIETIES JOHN MUNNELL, 'Dealer in Groceries and Confectionaries, and Variety Seeds Generally, Wilson's New Building, Main street. Sept. IL 1818-Iy. irairoar.s AND JEWELRY 8. M. .13AILY, *ewe street, opposite the Wright Mope keeps &Wags oti ban* fill Age 4.17 , 4 elegant assortment of Watches and Jewelry. irritepairing of Clocks, Watches and Jewelry wil virceere prompt attention (Dec. 15. 184;1 I y BOOBS• &c. LEWIS DAY, Dealer in School and Misrelltneous Books, Siation erg, Ink. Magazines and Papers: One door east or Porter's Store. Main :gyve!. lei t. 11, l til IV. SADDLES AND KARNES/I. I.,4MUEL M'ALLISTER, fierldle, Ilfirrom grid Trunk Maker. old Hank Medd ag. Main 1411410. dept. It, BASIL FALVIERS' & DROVERS' BANK, Way ie sburg, Pa. C. ►. MACH. Pres't. • .1. LAZEAR, Cashier PUICOUNT DAY, # WEDNESDAY Aga. 11. ISN.--11v. lanbing. DAILY NAIL HACK RUNNING agqiit.44Ly agv-grai MUM MI IN MN I'ilgusidersigned relpeCtritilY ina , rnia HIP generous that havtng the contract for tbscarry lug of the between the above points, he has placed upon the loute two new and commodious Hacks far die ac ' eommodation of the travrillog ronunituity, litiOntle +Mtes Stove, Waynesburg, scary nom. Sunday" except...i ? at 71 o'clock, and will arrive r • Landing in time for the Beano Pittsburgh, at- miter will leave Sims' Lauding at the same tune ' did &rive in Waynesburg at noon. No pains will be spared for the accommodation of pansengerl. TIMOTHY DitilUGUEii. Proprietor. - usast;th. 311111. no. 11. wovingpfoutto 011 MAX 111104 ?dui gattrg. The Small Becoming Great. A traveler through a dusty road Strewed acorns on the lea, And one took root and sprouted up, And grew into a tree : • Love sought its shades at evening time, To breathe its earlier vows, And age was pleased, in heats of noon, To bask beneath its boughs ; The dormouse loved its dangling twigs, The birds sweet music music bore ; It stood a glory in its place, A blessing evermore. A little spring had lost its way Among the grass and fern ; A passing stranger scooped a well, Where weary men might turn. lie walled it in, 'and hung with care A ladle at the brink— lie thought not of the deed he did. But judged that toil might drink. He passed again—and lo ! the well, By summers never dried, Ilad cooled ten thousand parching tongues, And saved a lite beside ! J O. RITCIIIC A dreamer dropped a random thought; Tomas old, and yet 'twas new— A simple fancy of the brain, But strong it being true. It shone upon a pnial mind, And lo ! its light became A lamp of life, a beacon ray, A monitory flame. The thought was small—its issues great. A watch-fire on the bill, It sheds its radiance far adown, And cheers the valley still. I= A nameless man amid a crowd That thronged the daily mart, Let fall the word of hope and love, Unstudied from the heart. A Whisper on the tumulet thrown— A transitory breath— It raised a brother from the dust, It saved a soul from death. 0 gem ! 0 fount! 0 word of love ! 0 thought at random cast ! Ye were but little at the first, Bat mighty at the last ! ioritlautono. How Milton Spent the Day. At his meals he never took much wine, or any other fermented liquor.— Although not fastidious in his foed, yet his taste seems to have been delicate and refined, like his other senses, and he had a preference for such viands as were of an agreeable flavor. In his early years he used to sit up late at his studies, but in his later years he retired every night at 9 o'clock, and lay till four in the sum mer and five in the winter. If not then disposed • to rise he had some one to sit at his bedside and read to him When he rose he had a chapter of the Hebrew Bible read for him, and then, after breakfast, studied till twelve.— He then dined, took some exercise for an hour, generally in a chair in which he used to swing himself, and afterward played on the organ or bass viol, and either sung himself, or requested his wife to sing, who, as he said, had a good voice, but no ear. He then re sumed his studies until six from which hour till eight he conversed with all who came to visit him. Ile finally took a light supper, smoked a pipe of tobacco, and drank a glass of water; and after he retired to rest. Like many other poets, Milton found the stillness, warmth and recumbency of bed favora bly to composition; and his wife said, before rising of a morning, he often dictated to her twenty or thirty verses. A favorite position of his, when dicta ting his verses we are told, was that of sitting with one of his legs over an arm of his chair. His with related that he used to compose chiefly in the winter, lied he lived to the tenth of next month, he would have been a hundred and two years old. He was born in Windham, Conn., September 10, 1'762, and bad the advantages of a common school education. At the age of sixteen he served as a soldier in the war of the Revolution, was taken prisoner and confined in the "Sugar House" in this city. He wariest last exchanged and returned hothe, and worked upon his father's farm.— Becoming a Christian, he studied for College, and entered Yale in 1784, and graduated in 1788. He was licensed by the Windham Aiwiciation, and in trig was settled over the Congregational church at West Sufilekl, Conn. Ile remained here till 1809, sines which thpe he has not been a settled pastor, hut has been stated supply of sevenil churelt es in New gngland and• New Tor- In 1 86 41 he wail *WA chaplain UP* *ma pf Represetdatirea in parigusag Arid served twp years. lie has eiiiitiannit IQ potewhilf tO a very recent date, and died in great peace on Saturday. July 80th, 1864, aged one handfed and one year, tel tiontis and tweity-one dims. 'Rev. Dr., yo= ea. -ou tip* i. t•g .... mats)i)-• 031 a• - •%1 30 *WI 3al Oil al[oll4 Father Waldo. Restless Nights, Some persons "toss and tumble half the night, and get up in the morning, weary, unrefreshed, and dispirited, wholly unfit either in body or mind for the duties of the day; they are not only incapacitated for business, but are often rendered so ungracious in their man ners, so irritable and fretfhl, as to spread a gloom over the whole household. To be. able to go to bed and be in a sound, delicious sleep, au unconscious delicious ness in five minutes, but enjoyed in its remembrance, is a great happiness, an incalculable blessing, and one for which the most sincere and affectionate thanks should habitually.go up to that benefi cent Providence which vouchsafes. the same through the instrumentalities of a wise and self-denying attention to the laws of our being. Restless nights as to persons in ap parent good health arise chiefly from— first, an overloaded stomach ; second, from worldly care ; third, from want of muscular activities proportioned to the needs of the system. Yew will have restless nights who take dinner at mid day, and nothing ;Ater that exce;.t piece of cold bread and butter and a cup or two of some hot drink ; anything Le yoncl that; as cake, pie, chipped beef, doughnuts, preserves, and the like, on ly tempt nature to eat when there is really no cause for it, thus engendering dyspepsia and its train of evils. Worldly care. For those who can not sleep from the unsatisfactory con dition of their affairs; who feel as if they were going behindhand ; or that they are about to encounter great losses, • whether from their 'own remissness, the perfidy -of friends, or unavoidable cir cumstances, we have a deep and sin cere sympathy. To suck we say, live hopefully for better days ahead, and . meanwhile strive dilligently, and with a brave heart to that end. But the more common cause of rest less uightsis, that exercise has not been taken to make the body tired enough to demand sleep. Few will fail to sleep sound if the whole of daylight, or as much thereof as will produce moderate I fatigue, is spent in steady work out in I the open air, or on horseback, or on foot. Many. spoil all their sleep by at tempting to force more on nature than she requires Few persons will fail to sleep soundly, while they do sleep, if they avoid sleeping in the daytime, will go to bed at a regular hour, and hero ically resolve to get up the moment they wake, whether it is two,: four, or six o'clock in the morning. In less than a week each one will find how much sleep his system requires ; there after give it that, and no mom—Halls Journal of Health. A Scene in Paris. Lately a lady, dressed in the height of f'as'hion and attired in the most ex pensive materials, entered one of the most extensive jewelery shops in the Rue de la Paix in Paris. She looked over article after article, and found nothing to suit her, so she left the shod without purchasing anything. She had not been gone long when the jeweler missed a valuable brooch. Nobody had entered the shop but this fine lady, and she was certainly the thief . In one moment the shopkeeper was in full chase, soon overtook her. and rudely enough told her what had occured— adding that she must go with him to the police station. The lady trembled violently in every limb, became as pale as death, and stood silent aid nrition less as a marble statue. The shopman became ruder. A gentleman of the la dy's acquaintance passed by; seeing the distress she was in he inquired wha'e .- the matter was. He angrily turned td the shopman with : 'Do you know who this lady is ?" but before he could add another word the shopman joyfully exclaimed ; "There it is!" and he pro ceeded to disentangle from the meshes of lace with which the lady's talma was trimmed the valuable brooch."Do you know who the lady is ?" angrily re peated the gentleman. -"She is the Baronness de Rothschild." It was now the shopfnan's turn to tremble and Wu pale and be speechless, white and mo tionless as a marble stone. So looked lie as the lady and gentleman walked off; the lady vowing that neither she nor any of her family would ever put foot again in that jeweller's shop, "Old Hundred" hi Camp. A letter from Gen. Sherman's army contains tl s fofiowingi "At early dawn this morning, ere the troops were fully awakened from slumbers, the melodious notes of 'Old Hundred,' given forth by one of the brigade bands, rang out upon the air, and were echoed by the green capped hills beyond. Soldiers intently occupied in preparing the morning meal stood still.and listened to the melody and instinctively joined in it, It flew from regiment to regiment; brigade after brigade took it up, and ere the notes of the band- ceased to reverberate, five thousapd voices were raised it 'Praise God from who Mal) blessings flow.' A moment later all was stall, Breakfast VIU3 taken; and so silently did the vet erans of many battle-fiel is break camp and fall into line that everybody remark edit, and-complitneated theta Sor their Awe *ant faLl thiseat 43631, , ' vim thikharlungs theogiss 414 41 ** ,- wzdi kg% and * ()- !fin , PA., WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 1864. A Mother's Hand. In one of the fierce engagements with the rebels near Mechaniesville. in May last, a young lieutenant of a Rhode Island battery had his right foot so shat tered by a fragment of shell that, on reaching Washington after one of those horrible ambulance rides, and a journey of a week's duration, he was obliged to undergo amputation of the leg. He telegraphed home, hundreds of miles away, that all was going on well, and with a soldiers fortitude composed him self to bear his sufferings alone. Un known to him, however, his mother, who had become anxious for the wel . tare of her son, had come to washing ton. She reached the city at midnight, and the nurses would have kept her from him until morning. One sat by his side fanning him as he slept, her hand on the feeble, fluctuating pulsa tion which foreboded sad results. But what woman's heart could resist the pleadings of a mother then! In the darkness she was finally allowed to glide in and take the place at his side. She touched the pulse as the nurse had done. Not a word had been spoken ; but her sieepit:g hey .pened his eyes and “That jeuis 1 1 ,:e my mother's hand Who Is thi :i by nlO ? It is my mother ; turn up the g:lss, and let me see mother:" The two flices met in one long, joyful, sobbing embrace, and the fondness nerd up in each heart sob bed and panted and wept forth its ex pression. The gallant fellow, just twenty-one, his leg amputated, on the last day of his three years' service, un derwent operation after operation, and at last, when death drew nigh, 'and he was told by tearful friends that it only remained to make him comfm table, said "he had looked death in the face too many times to be afraid now," and died as gallantly as,though frilling under the enemy's fire 011ie field of battle. How he Wished to be Taken. A London capitalist came to me not many months since, says a sculptor,,and opened a conversation by saying— " Sir your name is Robson." I admitted my name was Robson. "And you are a statuary," said he. I admitted this fact also, substituting sculptor. • "Sir," continued he, "I will give you a commission." I bowed and begged him to be seat ed. "Robson, sir," said he, drawing a paper from his pocket, I am a remark able man. Iu as born in the environs of London, and began life by selling matches at five boxes a penny. I am worth at this moment two hundred thousand pounds." I bowed again and said I was glad to hear it. "Sir," he went on to say, "how I earned that two hundred thousand— how from selling matches, I came to running errands ; to taking care of a horse, to trading in dogs, tobaccoes, cottons; corns, and sugars ; and how I came to be a man that„ I am, you'll find all that made out on this paper, dates and fiats eorret. Sir, it's a very remarkable statement." I replied that I had no doubt of It, but that I did not see what it had to do with the matter in hand. 'Sir," said my capitalist, "everything, I wish to perpetuate my name. You have a pretty thing, sir, here in Rome —a pillar wi!.lla proce.:sion twisting up ail around it, .and a fizger up at the top, I think you call it Trajart,s col umn. Now. Robson, sir, I wish you to make me exactly like it—same height, same size, and money no object. You shall represent my career in all my va rious trades, a twisting around the 01- umn, beginning with the small chap selling matches at five boxes a penny, and ending with the full length figger of me on the summit, with one hand my bosom, and the other under my coat tails." I made the statute, the artist said, in conclusion, and got well paid for my work. I hope my patron is alive and enjoying himself. lie deserves to. Death from Intemperance. Martin Brawdy, the head of the noto rious Brawdy family (which for years has been a curse to this community,) came to au untimely and miserable death on Thursday evening. The family have been residing in East Birmingham for some time past, and on Thursday one of the children died Mr. Brawdy, in company with one or two boys, ttar ted in a wagon to visit the graveyard beyond White Hall, for the purpose of making arrangements for the burial of his child. After having given orders for the (11.?-ging of the grave, he started borne, stopping at White Hall and im bibing f ree l y 0 1 liquor. He also stop ped at a tavern ou this side of White Ball, and got two more drinks, Being unable to sit in the wagon, he lay down on some hay and fell into a drunken sleep. Qn arriving home. about six o'clock in the evening, the boys con cluded to let him sleep of 'the effects of She liquor , as he was crises and trouble some when in that state. He lay in the wagon until eleven Weloolt at night, 31 4 , 41608 an effbrt was - made to wake law he was , toned- dam. Coroner MCleag isqualviwthe -Ur*, the 4 ii Gathering and Keeping Fruit. It is becoming a well understood prin ciple that pears are improved by being gathered before filly iipe. Some should approach nearer maturity than others. But early apples should be fully ripe, as a general rule, before gathering. Late fall and early winter apples should not he eatable when picked, and all the late winter varieties should be gathered when too Irrd to yield to the pressure - of the thumb, always before heavy Fall frosts. A dry time should be selected if possible. There will be a few specimens not yet mature, but you can afford to throw them out to rave the best and the main crop. When a good keeping variety begins to drop freely from the tree, as is sometimes the case, secure the balance of the crop, that remains on the tree, as soon as pos sible; but they should not be mixed with those on the ground—not one should be saved with those picked. Windfalls will not keep, for in addition to the in jury sustained from the fall, they become heated by lying upon the ground expos- , ed to the sun and hot air, and the ripen ing process already commenced is hest- ening it to a rapid decay. No matter how hot the weather is, an apple is always cool while upon the tree, and in that condition should be taken care of, it we would have it keep in its ' most perfect condition for the full devel opment of all the delicious juices with which it is so abundantly supplied.— How to obtain it in that condition will be my purpose now to show. We have seen that it must be carefully gathered before it is too iipe, as it is commonly termed; but I say before it is ripe, for ! when it is ripe it is fit to eat, and that should certainly not be the case with Winter apples when gathered. We have also seen that heat hastens the ripening process, and that cold re"- tards it. Apples should, therefore, be kept cool, barely rip as not to-freeze. .A minimum temperature of thirty-four de grees is probably about right, with as little fluctuation 'as possible. Whether we regard the ripening pro cess as a vital or a chemical action, it is quite sure that it should go on gradually and unchecked nail all the god quali ties are fully developed, and when the highest point of excellence is attained, then the fruit should be used. It ia never so good as when just fully ripe; but it is frequently eatable for a long time. Some varieties became dry and mealy, others tough and leathery.— Others. by being kept very cool, will frequently remain in a verf good condi tion for a very long time, or by the use of artificial means may be kept for an almost indefinite period. I hold that the ripening process once commenced, goes on, no matter how cold, if frost is not present, slowly per haps, but uninterruptedly, until full ma turity. Hence the importance of a cool cellar, which should always be dry and dark. It should be frequently aired, when the outside temperature will allow of it. Some varieties are much more sensitive to their treatment than others. The winesap, for instance, which has a thick skin, may be abused a great deal in handling and hut indifferently cared for in the cellar, and yet it will keep very well; that is, it will rot but little, but iflept close.and warm, it is subject to a fungus that renders it scarcely tol erable to eat. But if it is kept cool and dry, all its best qualities are retained.— It is also one of the varieties that does best kept on open shelves. The Bel mont, on the other hand, which I regard as one of the best and most profitable apples, is very impatient of bad treat ment. Its skin is smooth and thin, and flesh of a delicate texture. If roughly handled and kept in a warm room it soon decays. if carefully handled and kept in a cool place, it keeps with very little waste till April or May. Indeed, it is with me, ono of the very best of keepers —Trans. bd. Ifort. Society. A Sunny Frontage. A farmhouse should have, in all north ern latitudes, a sheltered position and a sunny exposure. Of course, a situation convenient to the fields under tillage, and to other tam buildings, is to be sought, but beyond this, no law of property, of good taste, or of comfort is more imperative than shelter from bleak winds, and a fr o ntage t o th e south. No neighbor can bring such cheer to a man's doorstep as the sun. There are absurd ideas afloat in re gard to the front and backside of a house, which infect village morals and manners in a most base and unmeaning way. In half the country towns, and by half the farmers, it is considered ne cessary to retain a pretending front side upon some dusty street or highway, with tightly closed blinds and bolted door; with parlors only ventured upon ia an uneasy way. from month to month to consult some gilt-bound dictionary or museum, that lies there in state, like a king's coffin. The occupant, meantime, will be living in some back eoraer—slipping in and out at a back door, never at ease save in his most un— inviting room; and as much a stranger to the blinded parlor, which very likely engrosses the beat part of his house, as any of his visitor& All this is as arrant a sham sled affectation, as the worst ones of the cities. kept/ tow' *mk s „ sas The Sonive of Strength. While Rev. Dr. Finely was Presi dent of the College in New Jersey, at Princeton, there was within the circle • of his acquaintance a man and a friend who had fallen gradually under the do minion of intemperance, so as to seem past recovery. As soon as the doctor • saw the truth of the case, instead of abandoning the man in despair, he set himself earnestly to the work of eman cipating the victim from his fearful bondage. Finley was a man of great magnetic power, as some would call it; his personal influence was extraordinary. He was an eloquent speaker, as well as a man of prayer; and so by means of private visitation and public address, he plied every power of which he was master, in the restoration of his fallen friend to sobriety and self-control. It was not in vain ; the inebriate be came "himself again," and for many years was a distinguished trophy of Fin ley's love and fidelity. At last, however, Dr. Finley fell j sick, and it was deeply touching to ob serve the intense interest which this ! rescued man expressed in his daily in quires as to the state of his minister's health. All that medical skill could do was done ; but day by day, the accounts became more unfavorably. J ust in proportion to the progress of the doc tor's disease, this man's anxiety became distressing. At length the sad news was announced : Dr. Finley is dead. At once with a look of anguish, the man respcnded to the announcement with the exclamation, "Then I am a lost man !" And it was so. Returning to his house, he resumed his cups and soon drank himself to death. What a remarkable illustration is this of the subtle power of mind. This man was conscious of his own weak- ness, and of his moral dependence upon a trusted friend tor the restraining and upholding influence that would - keep him from ruinning himself. When that was gone he sank like a vine from which the trellis had been taken away. 0, how different the result if he had only felt his dependence upon Jesus Christ as deeply as he felt his dependence up on the sympathetic support of kie dis tinguished earthly friend Let the reader rember that every one of us is thus dependent upon the Sa viour to emancipate us from the bon dage of sin, to uphold us amid seines of temptation, and give us power of self-direction. lle is a Friend that "abideth forever," and in him are the springs of our strength. Coffee as the French Prepare It. A French friend of ours. says an ex change, who is au fait in regard to the making of this agreeable beverage, gives us some hints in the . concoction thereof. But we will let him tell his own story. He says: In Paris the Coffee is nectar compared with the beverage we in (mam mon call coffee. I was desirous to know how it was prepared, and soon learned. The French use three kinds of coffee— Mocha, Java and Rio — mixed in equal parts. The coffee, before, roasting, is iinnowed, to cleanse it of dust, &a., it is then culled and picked over; every black or detective kernel is picked out, as well as small stones, seeds and rat droppings, which are abundant in most coffee. It is then put into tubs of clean water and well washed, their spread to dry; when dry it is ready for roasting.— The coffee required is roasted daily at large establishments; fide warm it is ground, and put up in glazed papers of a conical shape, holding from two oun ces to a half pound, and sealed up.— Gentlemen, as they leave their places of business for home and dinner, when convenient, call and take the needed supply. The coffee is put into a pot or digester in cold water, and then set over a lamp expressly for the purpose, and there heated, not boiled, but steeped; from this digester no steam or fumes arise; when ready you have your cup of coffee. It is coffee, and a beverage de 'cious, health-giving, not the bitter, . .rid; filthy, nansions drug we are in the habit of partaking and calling it coffee. LEvery one in His own Way. uo fartbef I" said the Minute hand to the hour-hand of the time-piece. “Why, I have been all around the dial since we parted ; and there are you, just one figure from the place where I left you." "And yet I have done as much work in thy time as you have," answered the hour-hand. "flow do you make that out?" said he other, as he advanced to pass him. "So," was the reply. "Yourjourney 411 round, and mine from figure to figure, are each an hourly value; all are not blo to - arrive at the same conclusions with the same ease and readiness. But -his is no fault on either side; only they ho fancy that because they are always a a bustle they -are doing the work of e whole world, are mistaken; they ilume themselves. on animportanoe and :nperiotity by no imams belonging-- -to hem. It you were to creep like Lan, to day would last, nobody known s hifiw ongl and if I Were tosallop Would be iti'ver . heforelt had welt -t us each keep outowlipeew bminees we ateliliK'llpoit ber iletirsea well v zi- • - I W I Y • r 461 7 if ay" etware ,,," btoreelfixf hotie-haat:4 Pilok let. """ 1-4. t - Aare is; NEW SERIES.---VOL. 6, NO. 14. A Camp Meeting Incident. At a camp meeting held last week at Sing Sing, at one of the morning services, ( Gen Anderson who is spending the summer in the village of Sing Sing, at tended the service with several members of his family_ The hero of F Sumter was reeognized cm the eataM of the congregation, and he yielded to the earnest desire of the preachers to be pre sented to the congregation. Prof. Foss, of Middletown, m a flew suitable re marks, introduced the Genaral. Th© entire congregation rose. to their . feet, when he hushed the outburst of their appluse which greeted him, and said: "My friender, I stand before you a sol dier, so broken down in health that my physicians forbid my speaking in public, but in this sacred plase I cannot forbear saying that I am not only a soldier for my countr, - but ram a soldier of Jesus. How wonderfully He has directed and protected me! At Fort Sumter I was among strangers, having been but re cently assigned to that post. The rebel lion had just broken out. I did not know to whom I could talk safely; I had no resources but to offer prayer to God, and I did pray to Him, and lie brought me through. No thanks are due to me, but to Him who brought me through.— My friends, if I could see all our people turn to God, then I should have better hope that this war would soon end. It is not the arm of flesh that can save us. Let me entreat you, my beloved coun trymen, to pray that God will help us." Idleness is the sepulchre of a living man. A man who retuses to direct the vitality within him into regular channels of la` or— who simply feeds and sleeps, or nurses his passions and appetites—whose highest satis faction comes from sense—is as good as dead and buried. Of what use is such a man in the world, to himself - or others ? If he will not work he is a burden upon society, even if he prey upon a pile of inherited wealth. No man has a right to be idle, even if be be as rich as Croesus, simply because he cannot be an idle man without injury to himself and society lle destroys his own happiness, buries his powers of usefulness, and furnish es to the world a pestilent example. The unpleasant odor produced by perspiration is frequently the source of vexation to persons who are subject to it. Nothing is simpler than to remove this odor much more effectually than by the application of such costly unguents and perfunies as are in use. It is only necessary to procure some of the com pound spirits of ammonia, and place about two table-spoonfuls in a basin of water. Washing the face, ha,ids, and arms with this, leaves the skin as clean, sweet, and fresh as one c.)ul 1 wish.— The wash is perfectly harmless, and/very cheap. It is recommended on the au thority of an experienced physician. The Crittenden Compromise. KEEP IT BEFORE THE PEOPLE. The following resolutions passed the United States House of representatives, Feb. 11th, 1861, by a nearly unanimous vote: Resolved, That neither the Federal Gov ernment nor the people or governments of the non-slaveholding States _have a parpoSe or a Constitutional right to legislate upon or interfere with slavery in any of the States of the Union. Resolved, That those persons in the North who do not subscribe to the foregoing pro positions are too insignificant in numbers and influence to excite serious attention or alarm ot any portion ot the people of the Republic, and that the increase of their numbers and influence does not keep pads with the increase of the aggregate population of the Union. Congress, by a vote nearly unanimous, passed the following resolutions, at the extra session of 1861, which expresses the voice of the nation, and is the true standard of loy alty: "That the present deplorable civil war has been forced upon the country by the disunion ists of the Southern States, now in wins against the Constitutional Government, and in arms around the Capitol; that in this Na tional emergency, Congress, banished - adi feeling of mere passion and resentment, will recollect only its duty to the whole country; that this war is not waged on their part in any spirit of oppression or of any purpose of conquest or subjugation, or purooee of over throwing or interfering with. the rights or established institutions of those States, but to defend and maintain the supremacy of the Constitution, and to preserve the Union, 'with all the dignity, equality, and rights of the several States unimpaired, and that as soon. as these objects are accomplished the war ought to cease." THE oaraixAL PURPO9II OP THE WAR General order, August 9,1381, says: "The General commanding takes thirtse-i caeioo to remind the ellice,rsand iloadiosol this SM.YI Alma we ersel.~ l : 101 1 1 41,54111* the l Uonstitution ami3swe of States, and in suppress** rebillh their authority; that *etife - not ' • ear of rapine, reitifirghlar , ~di this is not a contest against lopisliA, against armed forces and political o tionsithat: Ise struggle carried Mn Wi the United Stetes,_and should be"" eoii Indolence. Worth Knowing. nlifiiat. 133