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BY W. BLAIR.
G S elect pottrt.
TIIII SNAKE IN TR lILIEN,
BY JOHN G. SATZ
Come listen awhile to me, my lad,
Come listen to me for a spell !
Let that terrible dFuni
For a ,uoment be dumb,
por your uncle is going to tell
A youth who loved liquor too well
A clever young man was he, Iny lad :
Ere, with •brandy and wine,
He began to cleahna,
And-beltaveg p-pepsop possesss4
- I protest • ,
The temperance plan is the best.
Pne evening he wezit to etavorp, my lad;
He went to a tavern one night,
And drinking too much
Bum, brandy and such,
The chap got exceedingly "tight," •
And was quite
The fellow- fell into a snooze, my lad;
'Tis a horrible slumber he takes,
He trembles with fear,
And acts very queer ;
My eyes! bow he shivers and shakes
When be wakes
And raves a]out horrid great snakes!
'Vs a warning to you ami to me t to,y lad,
A particular paution to ali—
Thougli no ono can see
The vipers but hp—
ar_the npor lunatic
.S, _h .
"How they crawl.
All over the floor and the wall !"
Next morning he took to his bed, My la 4;
Next morning he took to his bed;
And he never got up,
To dine or to sup,
Though properly physicked and bled ;
.An 4 I read
Next day, the poor fellow was dead !
You've hentl of the snake in the grass,
my lad ; ,
Of the viper concealed in the grass;
put now, you must know,
Manis dpadliest foe
Is the ena4e of a different, plass ; '
?Tis tie yiper that lurks in the glats
A warning to you and tp me, my lad;
A very imperative call—
Of liquor keep clear ;
Don't drink even lleer,
If youid,shun all pccasion to fall ;
'' 7f nt all.
Pray talt . e:i.t 4ppomnicpnly small.
And if you are partial to snakes, ray lad ;
pasion 1 think very low.)
pool enter to see 'em ;
The Detqrs _Way») !
'Tis very much better to go;
And visit a regular show.
A9SE tLIFFORWS SORRQW.
each life some rain must fall,
tiOnur days be dark, and sad, and dreary."
Rase Clifford sat by the window think
and gazing out at the stars as they
rose one above the other in the early twi
Role was not beautiful, only good and
lovely, with a face which any one who
sa w lter mild not help loving, and a heart
large enough to grasp all mankind in its
sympaihy ; but to-night she might have
been called almost beautiful, as she sat,
Avid' her large, mournful eyes gazing up
ward, and her hair hanging in one solid
mass over her fair shoulders, . while the
moonbeams caught every golden tress in
their silver nleshes-
Was she dreaming as she sat there so
statue-like and still ? ith no ! life with
her was too much of a reality for that;
she was only thinking sad Thoughts.
Most of Rose's life had been one ofsun
shine and happiness. The only child of
indulgent parents, naturally of a cheerful
and lively disposition, respected and be
limed by all who knew her, how could
she help being happy 2 But to-night, al
though her parents were more loving and
friends kinder than ever, although every
thing around was covered With beauty,
and hill of music and poetry, she vas not
Two years before she had given her
heart, with all its first, pure, undivided
affection, to Ernest Les.he, a young man
of um:trill:3lA character, and every way
worthy her affection. How she had lov
ed him,,and worshipped him, none but
herself ever kne,v. She almost feared she
had loved him above her Master, and He,
in tender mercy, had taken away her i
dol to draw her to Himself.
To-night, as site gazed out in the moon
shine, over the hills ; she could seethe dis
tant cemetery, dotted her and there with
white slabs, to mark the resting places o,f
the departed.; and• there, while the stem
looked calmly down, and sweet zephyrs
murmered in .'varied cadences, she knew
Earnest was slekting. She had planted
lhowers over -Ids grave, and often tvaterecl,
it with her tem; but sorrily and crying
cannot bring our loved ones back across
the river, and Rosa knew she must give
He had said before he died, "R,osa, for
your sake I would like to live ; but qur
Father knoweth best, and leave you in
His hands. If I had been spared I might
have worked some in his vineyard rbut,
Rosa, "He doeth all things well." Fol
low hips always, and we shall meet again.
Find some one to love and care, for you,
and do not grieve after me. Think of me
sometimes and the home where I'm going,
' but de not be unhappy." •
Net, grieve after him! not be unhappy!
Ilow could she help it? She knew he
was safe now •in heaven ; that no sorrow
could ever reach him again ; still she
missed him, and her heart continually
kept crying out for his tender love and
manly presence. Yet, for the sake of her
parents, she.would bear it all patiently.
"Rose come down stairs. Prank is in
the parlor waiting for you." It was Rose's
mother who spoke, and sheanswerer
"Yes, mamma, I will come."
Reader, would you like to see Frank ?
If so, we will just take a peep into the
parlor. Seated on a sofa is a young man
about twenty-five years of age, with dark
brown 11air~ and eyes-same-color,-
in which you can red at once intelligence
and goodness of heart.
Rose Clifford and Frank. summerfipld
had been friends frem early childhood ;
from- the--time when-they used to- make
the grand old woods resound with merry
-laughter,- and search fqr glossy nuts a
mong the brown leaves of Autumn; from
the time when they attended the same
school, in the old log schoolhouse on 'the
hill, and recited in the same books, join
ed iu the same sports, and eating from the
It was a sad thing for Frank when, a
few years before, Ernest Leslie, a young,
man studying for the ministryentered
the quiet neighborhood, and in a short
time won Rosa's heart.
Frank had loved Rose ever since he
could remember. She had always been
the_star_that_filled_his life with brightness
although unknown to her, for belied aT
ways kept his secret hid away down in
b:s own heart. Frank had always seem
ed like a kind brother to Rose. She nev
er thought of him as anything more than
a dear friend,• and as she had no brother
she nhvgys felt sure of an escort in Frank,
wherever she wished to go. But after Er
nest ague things changed, and he was her
constant chaperon. Frank, feeling that
he had no claim on her longer. and think
ing it best for himself avoid her soc!cq
as much as possible; but now he felt sor
ry for Rose, and thought he would call
and see he;, Rose felt that shelled been
slighted by the friend of her childhood ;
and as she was lonely to-night, it was wel
come news, when informed that Frank
had come, So she hastAned to brush her
hair and go doWn.
"Good evening, Rose."
"Why, Frank, good evening ; is it really
you ? I thought you had quite forgotten
your old friend."
"Oh no, ltosa. I have been very much
engaged lately, but to-night I thought per
haps you might be lonesome, and as I had
a little time to spare, thought I would call
and take you to church, it you'd like to
"Oh yes, if there is meeting I would like
to go. Bow kind of you, Frank, to call
for me to-night of all other nights, when
I am so lonely ; but yen glways were like
a kind, good 'brother to me, and always
happen to come just et the right time."
" Who is to preach ?"
"Mr. Tilton, the minister from Denton,
is here, and he is said to be a superior
preacher. Imw him to-Jay, and he is a
fine looking man ; just such a man as I
think you would like to hear preach, Rose.'
Wligt a pleasant ride they had over the
smooth roads ; and what a splendid ser
mon Mr. Tilton delivered.
''Thou shall have' no other gods before
me,'" was the text, and Rosa felt, while
listening to thatpointed and able discourse,
that she had almost forsaken God, end
made Ernest her idol. He had been first
in her affection's, and God second ; and
she felt that she justly deserved to lose
him ; henceforth nothing should come be
tween her and her Master,
With these thoughts filling her mind,
Rose returned home, and when Frank bid
her good night he left her much happier
than when he came.
—.;". E Ledwr.
When the peace of Heaven fills the soul
the heart cannot be unhappy, and Rose
was soon almost herself again thinking of
the past as'an oasis in her life, and of Ern
est as bleed and happy.
Frank came often now, and they spent
many hours in social conversation,
Three years had passed away since Ern
est "fell asleep ;" three years of change—
joy to some and sorrow to others. Rose
had ceased to grieve for him, but thought
of him sometimes as he had requested ;
and the home where he had gone. Sweet
peace filled her heart, altho4i she some,
times felt a longing for human sympathy
and love. Frank had been gone two years,
being called away on buisness, and she
missed him sadly. It was true she receiv
ed letters from him frequently, but that
was not like having some one tutalk with;
but he was returning soon, and she was
looking forward to the time when he would
arrive. She wondered if two years' travel
ing had changed him much, and if he
would be glad to see her. She knew she
would be glad to see hint. Alt Cupid's,
dart had almost found a lodging place hi
her heart again.
Frank returned, strong and robust, and
more manly than ever. Rose looked on
him, with admiration, and he was well
viewed with the manner iu which she wel
comed, him home.
Frank's father had died, lea - vino' him
the old homesteatl, and all he wished for
now cw,s soute one to, share it with
A FAMILY NEWSPAPER..-.DEVOTED TO LITERATURE, LOCAL AND GENERAL NEWS, ETC.
WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PA., THURSDAY, NAY 21, 1874.
He knew Rose was the only one that
could ever fill the void in his heart, and
yet knowing the great love she had for
Ernest in past years, he, hesitated to lay
open his heart to her, fearing he would
not be received. However, as three years
had passed by since then, he resolved to
settle the point- by trying.
On a beautiful evening, such an one as
lovers deem mast appropriate for wooing
and, winning, opportunity offered itself to
him. He called and found Rose alone in
the. parlor. She looked fair and lovely;
as she always did ; and to Frank she ap
peared as she always had-done ; the sweet
est woman on earth.
They talked on various subjects, and
then Frank, feeling that he must speak
about that which was neatest his heart,
"Rose, I, know how three long years ago,
you buried your heart's idol in the church
yard, and felt that you could never be
happy again ; and I know, too, how some
Ise lies I , ed- - 11 - th - cv ae
one loved you au . tese years, as
well as Ernest did, and would lay down
his life for your sake. I have never yet
spoken, thinking it almost sacrilege to do
so, since Ernests death, but I feel that I
can keep silence no longer, and must
"Rose, you never knew it, but ever since
we were children I have loved you•; and
to•nigh; I have come to ask you if you
cauppt love me a little in return. Ido
not wish you to worship_me only to love
me as one who has his faults with the rest
of humanity. Say Rose, can you not do
"Frank, this is rather unexpected. I
have always loved you as a brother, and
thought of you ad a dear friend ; but as for
making you thy husband, I never thought
of such a thing. I will study over it, and
if you will call a week from to-night, I
will then give you my decision."
- In her own room that night RoWthought
of Ernest's words,"Try and find some one
to love and care for you ;" and who could
she find that would love her better, or be
more worthy than Frank, and that she
could love with a purer affection ? Need
rtkaihedebtdridcive - Ifim7 - and
that Frank was made happy by her ans
wer a week following? •
They were married in spring, and Rose
went to make the old homestead as near
a little paradise on earth as possible. Her
first great sorrow had strengthened and
purified her heart, and \ she now realized
fully ,what .Ernest once said, "Rose, He
doeth all tbing,s well?"
A writer on the
.Grange question says :
Farmers are too much alone. We need
to meet together to rub off the rough corn
ers and polish down into symmetry. We
want to exchange views, and above all we
want to learn to think. A man who has
performed fourteen hours of severe physi
cal labor is in no condition to think, and
we may as well decide at once that any
class of men which starts out in life by
working at severe labor fourteen hours
of the twenty-four, and faithfully adheres
to the practice, will fill forever the posi
tion of hewers of wood and drawers of we,
ter for men wbo use the God-given mind
and nourish the soul with liberal and abun
dant mental food. In my opinion the
coming farmer will not toil with his hands
fourteen hours out of the twenty-four and
compel wife and children to the same sla
very. But he will give a liberal share of
his time to thought, study, and recreation.
He will know of what his soil is compos
ed, iu what it abounds, in what it is defi
cient. • He will know what elements of
earth and air are needed to. plant growth,
and under what conditions they can be
most readily assimilated. He will under
stand the laws of plant and animal life,
that he may spore successfully treat them.
His house will be abundantly supplied
with books and papers on agricultural and
matters of general interest. Pictures and
abundant amusements will make his home
attractive. A beautiful lawn and flower
beds, a fruit and vegetable garden, an or
chard, groves, and evergreens and dicidu
ow trees far ornament, shelter, and use,
will make his home so lovely and home
like. that his daughters will not he so dis
gusted with farm life as to marry a village
dolt, or the son so worn, weary and dis
pirited as to leave the farm at the first op,
portunity and open a barber shop in some
country village. Can- this be done, and
can the farms really be made the happy
homes of refined intelligent, honored men
and women, instead of the abodes of over
worked slaves? Ye'sl , emphatictely yes!
But not by neglecting to rest the God
given mind, but by rou s ing it up and mak
ing it the compass, the sail, and the rud
der in the voyage of life. The body is
bat the hulk. Then set your sails, stand
by the rudder, steer by the compass, and
start out boldly on the great journey,
whose passage is pleasure aad whose end
A MOTHEIt'S WORTII.-"Many a dis
couraged mother folds her tired hands at
night, and feels as if she had, after all,
iloue nothing, although she had not spent
an idle moment since she rose. Is it noth
ing that your little helpless children have
had some one to come to.with all their
childish griefs and joys? Is it nothing
that your husband feels "safe" when he is
away to his business, because your care
ful hands direct everythbag at home. Is
it nothing, when his business is over, that
he has the blessed refuge of home, which
you have that day done your best to
brighten and refine ? Oh, weary faithful
mother ! you little know your power when
you say "I have done nothing." There is
a book in which a fairer record than this
is written over against your r i l t a me.
The days of the army 1?lue overcoat
are gone. The moths have co►tttacted for
all that could not be worn otA. •
THE LANGUAGE OF TOE BEAR . •
- There is a love that speaketh, ,
But it is not heard aloud ;
Its sacred language breaketh
• Not on the busy crowd.
'Tis heard in secret places a
Its Sorrows to disguise ;
'Tis-writ in anxious faces,
And meditative eyes.
It ever comes to render
Kind thoughts when fond ones part;
_lts tones are sweet and tender,
'Tis the language of the heart.
No art of man can teach us _
This secret speech of love ;
ThougbAaere its tones Amy reach us,
They echo first above.
'Tis heard in gentle praises,
In pleadings soft and weak,
It tells in silent gazes,
What lips could never speak.
With strong electric fleetness,
Its holybreathings start,
No speech can match its sweetness—
The language of the• heart.
[Published by Request.
Duty to myself and to the Church I am
serving, in the capacity of Professor of
Theology, obliges me to expose the spu
riousness of a quotation given in a book
recently published on "IVlereersburg The
ology," of which Rev. Dr. B. S. Schneck
is .the author.
On page 119 occur these words: "Now,
in consistency with such a view of redemp
tion is Tract No. 3, acknowled — to - be by
one of the Professors in Lancaster, in
which it is said that." Then follow three
separate passages, each one being set in
quotation marks by itself, but the three
are printed in immediate connection as
the parts of one paragraph. I present
them in manner and form as found in the
"All the benefits of Christ are received,
not ly faith,not through previous knowlege
of our misery, not in the way of repent
ance and faith, but through baptism and
through — baptism—exclusively." And=a—
gain : "There is no way in which a man
Call be created anew by the Spirit, accor
ding to the established economy of salva
tion, but by Baptism." And again: "A
sinner may be penitent for his sins, but
until he has received baptism, as God's
act of remission to him, he has no true as
surance of remission. And when after
baptism he sins through infirmity, he can
not be sure of pardon till his absolution
is spoken, signed, and sealed by Christ, by
the means of a Divine act through the
These three passages are attributed to
Tract No. 3. The middle one is correct
. quoted from page 5. The third is not
in the Tract, but may be found in a pos
aimus article by Dr. Harbaugh, publish
ed in the &unary number of the Mercers
burg Review for 1868.
My chief deajgn, however, is to repre
sent the character of the first quotation.—
Those words are not in the Tract, nor in
any production, that has issued from my
pen or from the pen of any Professor at
Lancaster or Mercersburg. I have nev
er expressed my views insylph language,
nor do I hold or teach such doctrine. The
passage has been invented, and falsely as
cribed to Tract No. 3 ; by whom I do not
know nor intimate. Only I wish it to be
distinctly understood, that I believe that
Dr, Schueck supposed the quotations to be
all literally correct, when he inserted them
in his book.
About a month ago, I addressed a let
ter to the Rev. Dr. Schneck, asking an ex
planation especially in regard to the first
passage. After some delay, I received his
reply under the date of April 13th. Af
ter apologiAing for the delay, he explains
how this false quotation occurred. I trans
fer his own words as follows :
"When I commenced the preparation
of my boot, your Tract was at band. But
by the time, I desired to refer your lan
guage, it was unaccountably mislaid and
could not he found. My publishers were
impatiently waiting for more matter, as I
had been providentially prevented to fur
nish them any for some time. In this di
lema I had recourse to the "Reformed
Church Monthly," in which I remember
ed to haw seen quotations from your
Tract. I found that it referred to the ve
ry point which I desired, and hence trans
ferred, without an iota of change, the sen
tence to nit, manuscript, at once sent it
to my puhlisher, together with the second
quotation, Not until your recent letter
called my attention to it have I been a
ware, that there was a single word in that
first sentence, which was not a bona fide
literal and actual quotation. I regret the
mistake, as it was not in my heart to have
even the appearance of making a man use
words, which he did not use. I quoted
verbatim (quotation marks included) from
the publication referred to."
It is due to the memory of the Rev,
Dr. Schneck, that this disclaimer and ex
planation be put on record. •
The religious press has unwittingly giv
en currency to the false quotation. , All
the papers and reviews that notice the
book, quote this spurious passage; and
quote it in preference to all, or nearly all,
the genuine passages. Under these cir
cumstances, further silence would natur
ally be construed into consent ;;and the
alternative has been fumed uptiAtpe eith
er, to allow the Seminary quietly - to bear
the odium of the charge, or expose its
So far from properly representing the
doctrine of salvation taught in the Semin
ary, the spurious passage asserts just the
contradictory opposite of what the Insti
tution teaches. The quotation : "All the
benefits of Christ are received, not by faith,
not through previous knowledge of our
misery, not in the way of repentance and
faith, but thrLuv i lk baptism, and, through
baptism exclusively," is false both as to
matter and form. . Were I, in speaking
of the relation of baptism and faith, to
employ the authentic formula, which the
author of the falsehood has seen fit to a
dopt, I wouldjust-reverse-themembers_of
the proposition. I would say : "All the
benefits of Christ are received, that is, ail.
propriated by us and - thus made own;
not by baptism, not in the way of any sac
ramental transaction, but by personal
faith, and by the exercise of personal faith
exclusively." The objective virtue of bap
tism does not supercede the necessity of
of personal faith, and the saving power
of faith" does not nullify the virtue of bap
tism as being the appointed medium of
It is 4lcarcely necessary to request ti.e
religious press to take back the false
charge, into which it has been betrayed.
Christian honesty as well us fraternal
courtesy will prompt editors to correct
the error which they have unknowingly
-published - to - the - world.
E. V. GERHART.
Theological Seminary, April 30, 1874.
The best gift of God to nations is the
gift of upright .men-;-especially upright
men for magistrates, statesmen and rulers.
How bountiful soever the heavens may be;
how rich the earth may be in harvests;
though every wind of heaven waft pros
perity to its ports till the land is crowded
with warehouses stuffed to repletion with
treasure, that country is poor whose citi
zens are not noble, and that republic is
poor which is not governed by noble men
selected - by its citizens. The signsin.decay
in the life of a nation show themselves as
soon as anywhere else in the character of
the men who *are called to govern it.—
When they seek their own ends, and not
the public weal ; when they abandon
principles, and administer according to
the personal interest of cliques and parties;
when they forsake righteousness and call
upon greedy, insatiable selfishness for coun
sel ; and when the laws and the whole
framework of tne Government are but so
many instruments of 'oppression and of
decadence. When God means to do well
by a nation that has backsliden, among
the earliest tokens of his bpnificent intent,
is the restoration of men of integrity and
of honor—men who live for their fellows,
and not for themselves.—Henry. Ward
A BURST OF ELOQUENCE.-A lawyer
in Milwaukee was defending a handsome
young woman, accused of stealing'from a
large unoccupied building in the night
time, and thus he spoke in conclusion :
"Gentlemen of the Jury, I am done.—
When I gaze with unraptured eyes on the
matchless beauty of this peerless virgin,
on whose resplendent charms suspicion
never dared to breathe ; when I be hold
her. radiant in the glorious bloom of lus
trous loveliness which angelic sweet-nests
might envy but could not eclipes ; before
which the star on the brow of the night
grows pale, and the diamonds of Brazil
ars dim ; and then reflect upon the utter
madness and folly of supposing that so
much beauty would expose itself to the
terrors of an empty building, in the cold,
damp, dead of night, when innocence like
hers is biding itself among the snowy pil
lows of repose ; gentlemen of the jury, my
feelings are too overpowering for express
ion, and I throw her into your arms for
protection against this fbul charge, which
the outrageous malice of a disappointed
scoundrel has invented to blast the fair
name of this lovely maiden; whose smiles
shall be the reward of the verdict which
I know you will give !"
The jury convicted her without leav
ing their seats.
TUE SAD PART OF SUMNER'S LIFE.-
Can a man pass the age of sixty without
a woman steps over his line of lifb, to
bless or blast ? The part which a wife
played in the existence of Charles Sum
ner was a sad one. It might not be drag
ged to view now but for the woman's own
act. Only a few weeks ago his divorced
wife made application, through her attor
neys, for privilege to marry again. The
divorce was of Sumner's seeking, and by
the Massachusetts law she couldn't take
a second husband while the first lived,
without special permission from the court.
Sumner went to his death cheered by no
womanly word ; no wifely prayers. His
pillow was smoothed by the highest in the
land, and the men whom a country hon
ors stood by and groaned in spirit as ho
passed away. And the woman who had
been his wife, whom he put away on ac
count of incompatibility, was at that time
wondering how tong it would be ere the
court would hear and deoide the petition
which should give her to the arms of a
younger man. Can anybody die without
making somebody glad ?
THE DAYS.—The very darkest day
wears at length to evening, and it is of no
avail to chide meantime the slowpaced
hours. It is a beneficient provision of
nature that we cannot grieve perpetually,
if we would. The keener the pain, per
haps, the sooner its intensity is worn out.
Our best beloved dies, and we.think our
life has been buried in that grave. But
the flowers do not grow on it more surely,
under the rains and dews of summer, than
do little buds of new interests and fresh
hopes • spring from the parched soil ofAmi
hearts. The cherished grace of the dead
day may never come back, but the new
day has twenty-four hours in it, and each
of those hours, if we do its work faithfully
is a minister of consolation.
SLEEP.—Go to hed with warm feet, an
empty stomach, and an unexcited brain.
Be sure and keep a clear conscience. Then
shall your sleep be dreamlwt a 40 your
days long in the lend.
Why Don't You Respond ?
Old Judge W., of —in the Old
1 Dominion, is a character. He was a law
yer,legielator,judge and leading politician
among the old time Whigs of blessed
-memory-; but„alas like_them_hkglery
departed, and, like many • others of his
confreres, has gone "where the woodbine
tivineth." — "Notwithstanding the loss of
property, and the too free use of apple
jack," he maintained the dignity of ex
judge, dressed neatly, carried a gold-head
ed cane,and when he had taken more than
his usual allowance of the favorite bever
age, he was very pious at such times, al
ways attending church, and sitting as
near the stand as erectly as circumstanc
es would admit, and responding fervent
On one occasion a Baptist brother was
holding forth with energy and unction on
the evils of the times, and in one of his
• "Show me a drunkard I"
-- The Judge arose to his feet, and un
steadily balancing himself on his cane,
said, solemnly :
"Here I am, sir, here I am 1"
_The elder, though a good—deal—non—
plussed by the unexpected response, man
aged to go on with his discourse, and soon
warming up to his work, again called out:
"Show inc a hypocrite! Show me a
hypocrite Show me a hypocrite !"
Judge W. again'arose, and reached for
ward across a seat which intervened,touch
ed Deacon D. on • the shoulder with his
cane, and said : .
"Deacon D., why don't
Sir? Why don't you respond? I did
when they called me 1"
CArmixr.—Thi) rules of politeness are
never at variance with the principles of
morality. Whatever is really impolite is
really immoral. We have no right to of
fend people with our manners or conver
sation. We have no right to deal with or
be influenced by gossip about the people'
we meet. Their private affairs' are none
of our business- If we believe a man to
be unfit company . for us we must not in
has been invited by others we must treat
him with civility. If we know a man or
woman to be a grave offender, we cannot
use that knowledge to injure him or her,
unless it is absolutely needful for the pro
tection of others. The greatest and best
men in the world have been assailed with
calumny. The purest and noblest do not
always escape it. We gtonot investigate
—as a rule we must disregard—all slan
ders. Where great offences become noto
rious, the offenders must be excommuni
cated. In all other cases we must give
every one the benefit of a doubt; apply
charitable constructions, hope foithe best
and consider every one innocent until he
is proven guilty. ,
The borelessness, of any one's doing any
thing without pluck is illustrated by an
old East Indian fable. A mouse that
dwelt near the.abode of a magician was
kept in such constant distress by its fear
of a cat, that the magician taking pity n
it turned it into a cat itself. Immediate
ly it began to suffer from its fear of a dog,
so the magician' turned it into a dog.—
Then it began to suffer from its fear of a
tiger, and the magician turned it into a
tiger. Then it began to suffer from its fear
of huntsmen ; and the magician, in disgust,
said, "Be a mouse again." As you . have
only the heart of a mouse, it is impossible
to help you by giving you the body of a
noble animal." And the poor creature
again became a mouse.
It is the same with the mouse hearted
man. He maybe clothed with the pow
em, and placed in the position of brave
men, but he will always act like a mouse;
and public opinion is usually the great
magician that finally says to a person, "Go
back to your obscurity again. You have
only the heart of a mouse, and it is useless
to try to make a lion of you,"
'Under whose care soever u child is put
to be taught during the tender and
ble years of his ; life, this h certain—it
should be one who, thinks Latin and lan
guages the least part of education—one
rho, knowing how much - virtue, and a
well-tempered soul are to be preferred to
any sort of learning or language, makes
it his chief business to form the mind of
his scholars, and give that a right dispo
sition, which if 011C3 got, though all the
rest be neglected, would in clue time pro.
duce all the rest ; and which if it be not
got and settled so as to keep out all and
vicious habits, languages and sciences and
all other accomplishments of education,
will be to no purpose but to make the
worse or more, dangerous man.—Locke. '
To TEM Ur:stectesput..—Very few men
e pormitted to be successful ; very few
men are permitted to be wise ; very few
men are permitted to be eloquent ; very
few men are qualified to be_ statesmen ;
very few men are good for anything emi
nent ; and even those that are eminent are
men of like passions with everybodfelse.
Therefore, be not discouraged because it
is your la to be in humble circumstances
becaues your work is insignificant in the
eyes of men—because you are called to la
bor in obscurity. The time is coming when
all earthly distinctions will be of very lit
Wisdom rides upon the ruins of
Words are but pictures of our thoughts
A lie has no legs but a scandal lies
Everybody is called a humbug by some
Wisdom in ',poor man is a diamondset
A suppressed resolve will betray it, sel.o
in the eyes, • ,
$2,00 PER YEAR.
it null -Snmor.
What is invariably the beginning of
love ? The letter L.
____The_first _stirring _event_ot
sweetening one's coffee.
"I - see - through it," - as - the washerwoman ---
said when the bottom of the tub fell out.
• "Say, Sambo, did'you ebber see de Cats
kill Mountains ?" "No. I nebber did;
but I have seen dem kill de mice.
"If a miss is as good as a mi!o, how good
is a Mrs?" If she is a widow, she will
be good for a league under any circum
A Kansas book ge says he can sell'
ten dime novels to religious work,
and he expects an ea earthquake to visit that
An English Judge has decided that ,
thread manufacturers who mark "200•
yards" on spools having but 120 yards
are guilty of no offense if they' ship the
spools to America. - Can't we ship them
another load, of wooden hams and nut
.3aCksoriville (Tenn.) young ladies tie.
up their taper fingers, and whenthe young
gentlemen callers inquire the cause, blush
ingly reply : "I burnt them while broiling
the beefsteak this . morning." And the'
young gentlemen discover - they have burn
ed their fingers in believing the story.
Plutarch says, "The eyes of the hog are
so formed and disposed of in the head,
that it it always looking upon the loweit
cbjects and can in no manner contemplat,
things elevated and loft'. It cannot look'
upward unless thrown back with its feet
upward. Although this animal is addic
ted to the most discordant squealing and
grunting, yet as soon as it is laid on its
back it is immediately silent, as great is. •
Its astonishment at the heavens to the,
sight—of which it is- - tin - awaStomed 7 nud,:
which causes such fear that it is unioil4..
A widow lady in lowa Falls wasin-lit
igation with her relatives in regard to her
husband's estate. Judgment bad been ieq
dered against'her, execution is issued,-and.'
the officer was on hand to make his levy.
The lady deeming that, she bad rights, de
fended her personal Property With' a Stout
cudgel, Claiming that it was naliable to'
exe-mtion. The,offieer pacitylieitiaid;
"Well, Mrs„— I ivili write te judge ,
—, and see what he says about klf
you will agree to abide by his deeisioV,
Well;" said the widow, "you may-write,' ,
to Judge —, or to the devil,,, pr any
other Justice of the peace you please but
I won't give up the property." 'She re- -
There is a bush story of a negro who,
for a bottle of rum,,agreed to strip to the .
waist and lie ou his face, to be bittei for
a quarter of an hour mosquitos, at the.
Jeggins of New Brunswick. .Hp endured,
his pests manfully, and had neariy':wim.
bis priie, when one of the lumberihiieWho'
stood by laid on him a piece of live char..'
coal, when the negro wriggled and twisted,
about frightfully ; at last, unable
out any, longer, he jumped up, calling, out,
l•Wooh I not bargain for clot; dat is drag:
on fly E"Lumbermen play sad tricks on the
negroes sometimes. At a colored tea drink
ing a lumberman slipped a plug of tobac
co into the kettle, when an old, negrest
who presided called out, "No' water !
water ! too " 'trong for missa 'tomtichl"
grandfather tells the sto,
ry In the course of a journey through
the West, he came to a , remarkable heal
thy locality, where people lived to a won
derful age.' As he approached the vil
lage tavern he beheld the oldest white
headed man he had ever seen, seated on .
the porch, crying like a child. In answer
to an inquiry as to the cause of his grief,
he sobbed out:
"My father has just been licking me."
Thinking the old man insane, my graild=.
father went into the bar-rothn, and see
ing another man there, much older than
the first, and thinking to have a little
sport with him, be said : .
"Sir, your, son out there says you have
been licking him :
VI - es," replied the landlord, for such
he was, I "could not help it. The young"
rascal was chasing his grandfatheraround.
a ten acre lot, and throwing stones at hi►n r . .
So; I had to interfere, stranger."
"''That settled my grandfather. He con
cluded that he had either, stumbled upon
a pair of lunatics, or that he had come a
crces a remarkable healthy county..
BRANDY PROM SAW DUST.—The fol
lowing fine piece of humor is from .Max
We are very sorry, indeed, to learn that
a German chemist has succeeded in mak- .
ing first rate brandy out ofsawdust. We
are a friend , of the temperancemovement,
and we want it to •succeed., But* what
,it have when a man can take
~rip saw and go out and get drunk with
a fence-rail ? What is the use of a pro
hibitory liquor Jaw if a man is able to.
• make brandy smashes out of the shingles,
iu his roof, or if _he can get delirium by
drinking the lege of his kitchen chairs? -
You may shut an inebriate out of a gin
shop, and keep him away from': taverns,.
but if he can become uproarous on boil
ed sawdust and a dessicated window sills
any effort at reform must necessarily be a.
failure. It will be
. wise, therefore, if the.
temperance societies " Will butcher that Ger
man chemist before he goes any further.—
His receipts ought not to be made public..
He should be stuffed with distilled board
? yards until he perishiti)Ath ma* apotti.