The Waynesboro' village record. (Waynesboro', Pa.) 1871-1900, May 21, 1874, Image 1
- • + . . .)".• - - • - tagt. - 4.01. .„,,;: • t ,.4 / y r • , I • . BY W. BLAIR. VOLUME 26. G S elect pottrt. TIIII SNAKE IN TR lILIEN, A HOMILY. 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 What befell A youth who loved liquor too well A clever young man was he, Iny lad : And-with-heauty-uneommonly-blest, 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 What-your-aunt_would,entitle-aafright 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 ; ' Alas I— ?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; (That-'s so!) And visit a regular show. Slistellautoto pleading, 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 ,, t. 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 happy. 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 him up. 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 same basket. 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 go. ” "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, commenced: "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 ili -- 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 speak. • "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 it ?" "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 is success. 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. • Farmers, 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. A CARD. 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 book : "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 Church." These three passages are attributed to Tract No. 3. The middle one is correct ly . 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 gratuitous character. 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 divine gmce. 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 -cannot-themthe=nation,cannotheik fro 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 Beecher. 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 flights exclaimed: • "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 _you respond, 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 vite_him_;_butif_ve_meet_him_where he 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 flexi 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 tle account. Wisdom rides upon the ruins of Words are but pictures of our thoughts A lie has no legs but a scandal lies wings. Everybody is called a humbug by some body. • Wisdom in ',poor man is a diamondset in lead. A suppressed resolve will betray it, sel.o in the eyes, • , $2,00 PER YEAR. NUMBER 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 stances. Nyt A Kansas book ge says he can sell' ten dime novels to religious work, and he expects an ea earthquake to visit that State. 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 megs? .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- - tained it. 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 Adler : 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 chance will ,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.