y a.1 i in j i i 1 r . . 1 '
- --' - ' ' ' "l
BY S. J. KOW.
CLEARFIELD, PA, WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 1, 1862.
YOL. 8.-NO. 18.
DOING GOOD-
'Tii never too late to do good ;
We all hare ear time to improve ;
'Tis doing no more than we should ,
Progreaively onward to move.
'Tie folly to lorofolly grieve ;
Be hopeful and you will be wise,
The lewer the station we leave,
The greater the merit to rise.
We all might be better in fact,
. More loving more friendly more kind;
With a little more feeling more tact
To manage the heart and the micd.
Ti noble to earnestly strive
By labor or learning to rise ;
The gem-seeker deeply must drive,
Or never look oat for a prixe.
MES. GOLDSMITH AT FOBTY.
The case of Mrs. Goldsmith was a sad one.
I did not see the remedy. She was forty, and
not as happy as at thirty five. At thirty hur
face, though beginning to look dreary and
discontented, was for the most part bright
with anticipation. Her children, all daught
ers, were unlolding from bud to fragrant blos
som, and her life rested in their lives.
Since the completion of her thirty-fifth
year one of her children had died the young
est, and most tenderly loved because the
youngest. Ah! for a woman lice Mrs Gold
smith, who bad built only upon an earthly
foundation, who had loved herself intensely
In her children, this was indeed an affliction.
She bowed her head and refused to be comfort
ed. The unrelieved black that gathered in
furneral gloom around her person was a fitting
emblem of the darkness that enshrouded her
spirit. But troubles and sorrows do not al
ways come alone. Her oldest daughter form
ed an attachment that did not meet her pa
rents' approbation, and failicg to gain tneir
consent, or even the smallest approval of her
choice, took the desperate and almost always
unwise course of marrying against their re
monstances, threats and command. From
tho day she left her father's bouse she bad
been an alien therefrom ; and two long years
had passed without a reconciliation.
bo at forty Mrs. Goldsmith had cause of
mental suffering, heart disquietude ; but the
suffering and disquietude were in excess of
legitimate causes. The home of Mrs. Gold
smith was luxurious. So far as her external
life was concerned, or rather, so far as in the
use of money she could arrange the externals
of her life, she had all the means of happiness ;
but these in her case, were wholly inadequate.
Nay, instead of giving that repose of mind
which freedom from worldly anxieties is sup
posed to confer, they only added to her dis
satisfaction. Their possession brought no
senso of responsibility, but induced a feeling
of superiority to others. She must always be
'ministered to, never minister. Her comforts,
feelings,tastes,habits,desires,and conveniences
tmust be regarded by her domestics and by all
from whom she requiied anything; while to
their feelings, tastes, habits, and conveniences
no regard was ever paid. Her position of lux
urious ease bad made her, as it does so many
in like situations, intensely selfish and this
very selfishness waa a cause of her miserable
disquietude.
Mortified pride was another source of unhap
piness in the case of Mrs. Goldsmith. To
think that her daughter should humiliate the
family by marrying any man beneath their
Condition! Death, fearful as the visitation
had teen, was a light affliction compared with j
tins, and disturbed her not halt so profoundly.
Poor Mrs. Goldsmith 1 At forty, as I have
ssid, her case was a sad one, and I did not ace
the remedy. Human efforts to bring her mind
back into the sunshine were of no avail. She
brooded over her sorrow and her humiliation,
admitting no cheerful guests into heart. Mor
tification at her daughter's discreditable mar
riage, added to a morbid grief half affected,
hilt real that succeeded the first strong out
gush of maternal anguish, caused an entire
withdrawal of herself from society, and shut
her up in the shadowy retirement of her own
clumber for a greater portion of tho time.
No interest for others could be awaRened in
the mind of Mrs. Goldsmith. What was the
outside world to her I Human sympathy was
barred Irom her heart. She fklt herself to be
ol finer quality than the mass of people around
her; and in her sorrow and stricken pride she
held herself coldly aloof.
ii Mrs. Goldsmith bad taken interest in any
employment had gone down, with a true
woman's care and thought, into her household,
and wrought therein the highest possible com
fort for its inmates, then would sho have found
seasons of calmness and peace. But instead
f this, neglect and indifference produced
conjtant irregularities; and sharp, angry or
Injudicious reproof and complainings alienat
ed domestica, and made the home of Mrs.
Goldsmith so unlike a true home that it
carcely deserved the name.
And so life at forty was proving a failure to
one whose promises at twenty appeared bright
u a cloudless day in June. I called one eve.
ning to see her husband a man of large busi
ness operations, whose sober, abstracted face
did not indicate a peaceful mind. Care drew
tightly on the muscles about bis lips, wrinkled
bis forehead, and fixed his eyes in an absent
md cf gaze, as if he were looking away from
'e present into some far beyond. It was not
"'ten that visitors saw Mrs. Goldsmith. I
privileged. She did not retire from the
'wily circle on my entrance. A fleeting
"nile lit up her pale face as I came in, but it
uea quickly, leaving a weary, desolate look
o her eyes and about her mouth. Her con
ration was as dreary as her fice. Domes
Jjc troubles rhe worthlessncss of servants
tne daily and hourly vexations to which the
"miljr were subjected poor health tlepres
'on of spirits these were the topics dwelt
opon during the hour I stayed. I tried aever
' tlrae to get her away from them to inter
' ber in other nemdn or other thamaa . hnt
like
(trained spring, it came always back to
- - ----- . - ,
" common adi
i k case of Mrs. Goldsmith is hopeless,"
id to myself on retiring. "What $are
BaVk n( mxui7 worth if their possessor can
la is0 no better advantage than this?
ction producea stagnation, and stagnation
cEm 'ck,y ,ormB of ,,fe T1,e mlnd of Mrs
lasmith is a stagnant pool. Miasma banga
iln " - " ,urfac like a cold vapor, and in the
fguo waters below monstrous creatures are
lng shape and vitality. Storm and flood
1 L"i Uer than thi" I Let the Po1 be -wept
iA ' Slging. as its pure waters flow on
r . happy song cbording sweetly with
yjwindnote that kisses tbe flower-beads
bending above ! Yes.yes.this were Letter far."
A year afterward, in a distant city, I read
of Mr. Goldsmith's sudden death ; and letters
received from home soon afterward gave me
the information that he died a
"His widow is left without a dollar," was the
language of ray correspondent.
"Poor Mrs. Goldsmith !" said I, looking up
from my letter, and recalling her i mage as
last seen. Here is trouble indeed ! trouble
that you can sit down and brood over trouble
that neither pride nor a selfish love of ease
can nurture. Ah I is there anv strength lpft
tor
I wiucai ime mis i it ill eom L round
in the crucible after
the fire has reached its
iLtensest heat.
Afer an absence of three years I returned
In my own absorbing duties in my own trials
sufferings, and self-discipline Mrs. Gold
snmn was forgotten, or only remembered at
times with a vague impersonality. She was
ol the great outside world of men and women
who do not touch the chords of our individual
We, nor awaken a sympathetic interest.
I was sitting in one of the parlors of an old
ana vaiuea-iriend, when a young lady, who
had rung at the door and had been admitted
by tho servant, came in. My friend said, in
a Kina, lamniiar voice, but without introduc
ing her.
'Oh, Mnrgaret!"
"Mixs Annie is at home ?" there was a low,
pieasani tone in tne speaker's voice
"Tea. Walk into the back parlo
parlor. She'll
be with you in a moment."
The young lady passed through the folding
uoors ana we wen alone again.
I here's something familiar in her face,"
saia i, looting inqumugly at my friend.
Anna's music-teacher: a Mia Guldmith "
"Not the daughter of Colbert Goldsmith,
wno a iea a lew years ago 7"
"Yea."
"What of her mother 7" I asked with a sud
denly quickeniug interest. "Is she living "
"Yes."
"Where, and how ?"
'With her daughter."
" wiioni she cast oft in anger on account of
ner marriage with a young man regard?d as
beneath her "
"Yes."
"What of him ?"
"Ile't an estimable person, I believe, and
holds a responsible position in one of our mer
cantile houses."
"What a blow to pride ! I wonder how Mrs.
Goldsmith's present state compares with her
condition of mind when she stood in the high
er ranks 7"
But my friend could not answer the question.
She had not known Mrs. Goldsmith in the days
of her piosperity, and only knew of her thro'
her daughter, who came twice a week to give
her music lessons.
Next morning I called upon my old acquain
tance now in adversity. Nearly ten minutes
passed after sending up my card before she
made her appeaiance. I began to have mis
givings as to the state in which I should rind
her.
A rustling of garments on the stairs the
pleasant pattering of little feet the music of
a child's questioning voice and then. Mrs.
Goldsmith entered, leading a golding-haired
little girl of three summers by the hand. One
glance into her pale, calm, humanized face
told the story of suffering and triumph. She
had been down among (he seething waters of
adversity, but had risen above them in the
strength of a nobler and purer love than had
burned in ber heart in the days of wealth and
luxurious ease.
"It was kind in you to call," she said, as
sne stood holding my hand and looking at me
with a gratified expression on her face
i am grievea," i saia, using the common
form of expression, "to find that since my ab
sence troni the city sad changes have me
you."
She smiled faintly as she answered "God's
ways are not as our ways."
"But his ways are always best." I said
quickly.
"Always always," she replied, the smile
growing sweeter about her mouth.
"Though our feet turn to them unwillingly,'
I remarked.
"Very unwillingly, as in my case."
We were seated. The sunny-haired child
was in her arms, her head laid back, and her
eyes turned lovingly upward. Mrs. Goldsmith
looked down upon the sweet lace, and left a
kiss upon it.
"Your grand-daughter 7"
ies, ana sncs aaariing nttio girl y Iter
arms on which the child lay, felt the loving
impulsu that was in ber heart, and drew the
form close against ber breast. I noticed the
movement, and said in my thought, "Yes, His
ways are best always always."
"There has been mnch lost," she said, in
the earnest talk that followed "much lost and
much gained ; and the gain is greater than
the loss. Oh, into what a blind, selfish, sin
ful state had I fallen when that sterner visita
tion and discipline came, and I sunk for a
time in utter despair. Then I became con
scions that a struggle for very life had come,
and not only for myself, but for another also
a struggle in which victory would be reach
ed only in the degree that I bad in myself
the elements of strength. In the wreck of
my husband's estate everything was lost.
Our elegant home and luxurious furniture re
ceded from our pessession, fading away, in
our bewilderment and grief, like a disolving
view, oi the passing of scenery in a play. My
first distinct impression was like that of a man
in the midst of overwhelming waters, and I
began reaching about fearfully, in my thought
for a way of safety and escape. Then the de
spised and contemed one he from whom we
had turned ourselves away in bitter scorn
came and spoke such kind, tender, manly
words, that my rebuked and smitten heart
bowed itself before him in something of rev
erence. I saw in what loving trust and con
fidence my daughter leaned on bim, secure
and steadfast, while against me and my other
child the floods swept fiercely, and it seemed
as if no power could save us."
"Ab ! Sir. God led as down into a deep,
dark and frightful valley, only that be might
show us the way to a mountain of love, rising
heavenward beyond. I could not go in thro'
the door opened in such a manly, Christian
spirit, and sit down in idleness with folded
bands. Tbe generous conduct oi my daugh
ter's bnsband inspired me with a desire to re
turn benefit for benefit, and though here un
der the law of filial love, I try daily to let
gratitude express itself in service ; and so, in
useful employments, I find a new life in which
peace dwells. Margaret will not be idle and
dependent. It is not the wish of her excel
lent brother-in-law that she should teach
but duty has led her into the right way, and
she is cheerful and happy."
"Not in the external things of this life,"
said I, as she paused, "can the heart find
rest."
"or without them," she replied. "We
must make them the ministers of useful ser
vice ; must dwell in them, as life dwells in
true forms, directing and controling them for
muse gooa uses they were intended to serve."
"Then," said I, "they will be as Aaron's
rod in the hand a staff for support ; and not
as Aaron's rod on the ground a stinging ser-
peiu.
TT -.
U RCLE OB EL8 WASPISH. Uncle Bob fs
a backwoods preacher in Mississippi, (provided
lie hasn't joined the Secesh. army") and is not
of a very amiable temper. In the summer of
1860 he went to minister to the spiritual wants
oi some "nreturing" at a rough built meetit g
nouse Known ly tho very classic name of
"Coon Tail." Inspirited by a crowded house,
Uncle Bob turned himself loose in the most
tragic style. He beat, stamped, and vocifera
ted terribly. For sometime previous the rude
puipit nad been unoccupied. Invited by the
a Faiu ii i, aecurny ami quiet oi tne place, a
community of mud wasps had built a nest
underneath it. Uncle Bob's peculiar mode of
conaucting the service had disturbed the in
sects ; and just as he was executing one ol
his most tremendous gestures an enraged wasp
met mm nan way, and popped his sting into
the end of Uucle Bob's huge nose. He stop-
lcu auvi e sunury vigorous out inenectual
siaps, wnen ne neard a nalr suppressed titter
Irom some merry youths in a far corner of the
house, lurning towards them with illcon-
cealed rage, he exclaimed, "No laughing in
the bouse of God ; I allow no laughing in my
meetings. I'll lay out the first man that
laughs as soon as service is over!" This
threat checked the incipient merriment. Undo
Bob regained his composure, forgot the wasps,
ana soon warmed np to a two-fortv lick. But
again, in the midst of the most impassioned
gesticulatian, a wasp struck -him full in the
forehead ; he bowed, dodged, and beat the air
frantically, until a roar of liuehter rose from
the congregation. Uncle Bob looked at them
a moment with mingled feelings of rage and
aisgust.ana men shouted, "Meet m's dismissed!
Go home ! Just go home, every one of you !
liut as for me. rtakinc off his coat.l I dnn't
leave mis snaniy as lone as there's a wasn
... . - " 'j
around !"
Coincidences. In 1856. Rev. Eliiah P
Lovejoy.of Alton, Illinois, was brutally mru
dered by a pro-slavery mob for publishing a
paper, in airee state, wherein he temperale v
discussed the institution of slaverv. occupy
ing substantially the ground covered bv tbe
tstucago pi-ittorm. ilia murder took place on
the th of November, 1836. In November,
1860, we published a communication from a
gentleman of this city who was with Lovejoy
wnen ne fell pierced by the bullets of the fu.
rions mb, and who received his last words
u that letter he called attention to tbe cheer-
ng coincidence, that on the twenty-fourth an
Diversity of the murder of Lovejoy, Nov. 7th,
iBtu, tne nation rejoiced with cheers over the
election of a President from the same State of
Illinois, chosen to carry out the same views in
defense of which the martyr fell. The same
gentleman now reminds us that the anniver
sary has been signally celebrated this year by
the glorious capture of the forts at Port Roval
and the planting of the Union power in the
heart of the stronghold of treason. Thus do
events keep alive tho memory of noble deeds,
and bring in the just revenges of history. JV.
Y. World.
Negro Idea or Creation. At a recent ne
gro camp-meetiug, the preacher gave the fol
lowing lucid expositiun ot the cieation : Sis.
ters and brothers, God made a big ball of Are
and chucked it right waar it is ; and waar is
de white and brack man dat daar says it's not
right i If a man had de placing of it, he would
have it too near, and de men, animals, and
rivers would all burn np before he could get
it higher ; den ho would have it so high dat
de men, animals, and rivers would all freeze to
death before he could get it down. He then
went on to show lhat there was do difference
between tbe white man and the negro. Dar
is no difference between the white man and
nigger except in de color. God made them
so to beautify and varigate de world, do same
as he made white and black pigs. Let de
white man die and also de nigger, bury them
both, den after a year die up de white man
and then dig up yourselves, and den see it dar
is any difference.
T . ... .. .'.
iietribution. a leirer irom a private in
tbe Seventy-ninth inlanders, discloses an in
stance ui just reiriDuiion wnicn leu on an
earnest traitor who should have been hnng
months ago. It will be remembered that in
the eany part of Summer a man employed in
the Washington navy yard was discovered fit.
ling shells with sand instead of with tbe prop
er material. This man had received a medical
education, and on his escape within tbe rebel
lines resumed the practice of his profession.
When the Seventy-ninth landed at Port Royal
the first sight that greeted them on entering
tbe hospital was this man seated at a table,
with a splendid case of surgical instruments
before him, his left arm laying naturally upon
the table and the position of bis body indicat
ing perfect ease hut upon a closer examination
it was discovered that the entire upper portion
of his bead bad been cut away, from the crown
to tbe back' of his neck, by a cannon ball.
The Watch ol General Washington. We
were shown, says tbe Louisville journal, a
gold watch of the olden time, which is of great
value as a memento of an important event in
American history. The watch was a present
rom Gen. Washington to Gen. Lafayette, and
bears the following inscription on the inner
case: "G. Washington to Gilbert Mortiers
de Lafayette. Lord Cornwallis caDitulation.
Yorktown, December 17 1781." The watch
is of London manufacture, and was made in
869. It is said that the watch was taken to
San Francisco by a Frenchman, who became
embarrassed there and sold it to the present
owner for tbe sum of fifty dollars,
Thoso who heed not God's writ are often
compelled to heed tbe sherifi's.
Tbe loss by tbe great fire at Charleston is
estimated at $7,000,000.
HEMIJUSCENCE OF THE REVOLUTION.
A Sermon,
By Rev- Joab Prout. Delivered on the eve of the
battle of Brandy wine.Sept. 10 1777.in presence
of Vashin6tox ,Watxe and others of the Army.
"They that take the sword shall perish by the
sword."
Soldiers and Countrymen. We have met,
this evening, perhaps for tbe last time. We
have shared the toils of the march, the peril
of the fight, the dismay of the retreat alike
we have endured cold and hunger, the con
tumely of internal foes and outrage of the for
eign oppressor. We have sat night after night
by the same camp fire, shared the same rough
soldier's faro ; we have together beard the
roll of the reveille, which called us to duty,
or the beat of the tattoo, which gave the sig
nal for the hardy sleep of the soldier, with the
earth for his bed, tbe knapsack for his pillow.
And now, soldiers and brethren, we have
met in this peaceful valley, on the eve of tho
battle, while the sunlight is dvinz awav 1m-
yond yonder nights, the sunlieht that to-
moirow morn will glimmer on scenes of blood.
tve have met amid the whitened tenta of our
encampment; in times of terror and of gloom
we have gathered together God grant it may
not be for the last time.
It is a solemn moment. Brethren, does not
the solemn voice of nature seem to echo the
sympathies of the hour? The flag of our
country droops heavily from yonder staff; the
breeze has died away alone tbe ereen olains of
Chadd's Ford the plain that sDreads before
us, glistening in sunlight the heights or the
Brandywine arise gloomy and grand beyond
tho waters of yonder streams, and all nature
holds a pause of solemn silence, on the eve of
the uproar of the bloodshed and strife of to
morrow.
"They that take the sword shall verish bv the
sword." And have thev not takn the sword 1
Let the desolated plain, the blood soddened
valley, the burned farm house blackening in
the sun, the sacked village and the ravaged
owner answer; let the whitening bones of the
butchered farmer strewd along the field of his
homestead answer let the starving- mother.
with babe clinging to the witherinz breast that
can afford no sustenance, let her answer with
the death rattle mingling with the murtnurinz
ones that mark the last struggle for life let
tbe dying mother and the babe answer !
It was but a day past, and our land slept in
the light of peace. War was not here, wrong
was not here, Fraud, and woe, and misery, and
want dwelt not among us. From the eternal
solitude of the green woods across the blue
smoke of the settler's cabin, and golden fields
of corn looked forth from the waste of the
wilderness and the glad music of human voices
awoke the silence of the forest.
Now, God of mercy, behold the ehanse !
Under the shadow of a pretest, under the
sanctity of the name of God. invoking the
Redeemer to their aid, do these foreign hire
ling? slay our people. They throne our towns.
they darken our plains, and now they encom
pass our post on the lonely plain ol Chadd's
Ford.
"They that take the sword shall perish bu the
sword."
Brethren, think me not urworthv of belief
when I tell you that beyond the cloud that
now enshrouds us, I see gathering thick and
last, the dark cloud and the blacker storm of
a JJivine Retribution .'
1 hey may conquer us on the morrow. M ieht
and wrong may prevail, and we may be driven
from the field but the hour of God'a own
vengeance will conic !
Ay, if in tho vast solitudes of eternal snace :
if in the heart of the boundless universe, there
throbs the being of an awful God. ouiok to
avenge, and sure to punish guilt, then will the
man, ueorge or Brunswick, called King, feel
in his brain and in his heart the ventreance of
the Eternal Jehovah I A blight will be upon
his life a withered brain, an accursed intellect:
a blight will be upon his children, and on his
people. Great God ! how dread the punish
ment !
A crowded populace, peopling tho dense
towns where the man of money thrives while
the laborer starves ; want striving anion e the
people in all its forms of terror, and ignorant
and God delving priesthood, chuckline over
me uiiaeiies ui minions ; a proua, a merciless
nobility adding wiong to wroncr.and insult un-
on robbery and fraud; royalty corrupt to the
very heart ; aristocracy rotten to the core;
crime and want linked hand in hand. And
tempting men to deeds of woe and death
these are a pari of the doom and the retribution
that shall come upon the English throne and
the English people !
. boldiers I look around upon vonr familiar
faces with a strange interest! To-morrow
morning we will all go forth to battle for
need I tell you that your unworthy minister
will march with you, invoking God's aid to
the fight 7 We will march forth to battle!
Need I exhort you to fight the good fight, to
fight for your homesteads, and for your wives
and children f
My friends, I might urge you to fight by the
galling memories of British wrong ! Walton
I might tell you of your lather butcberedNn
the silence of midnight on tbe plains of Tren
ton ; I might pictnro his grey hairs dabbled in
blood ; I might ring bis death shriek in your
ears, oneimioe i might tellyou of a mother
butchered and a sister outraged tho lonely
farmhouse, the night assault.tbe roof in flames,
the shouts of the troopers as they dispatched
their victim, the cries for mercy; the plead
ings of innocence for pity. I might paint this
all again in the terrible colors of vivid reality,
if I thought your courage needed such wild
excitement.
But I know you are strong in the might of
the Lord. You might go forth to battle on
the morrow with light hearts and determined
spirits, though the solemn duty the duty of
avenging the dead may rest heavy on your
souls.
And in the hour of battle, when all aronnd
is darkness, lit by tbe lurid cannon glare and
the piercing musket Hash, when the wounded
6trew the ground and the dead line your path,
then remember,80ldier8, that God is with yon.
The Eternal God fights for you be rides on
toe name clouds, be sweeps onward with tbe
march of tbe hurricane charge God,the awful
and the infinite fights for you, and you will
triumph. "They that take the sword shall per
ish by the sword."
Yon have taken the sword, but not in tbe
spirit of wrong and revenge. You have taken
tne sword for your homes, for your wives, for
yonr little ones.
You have taken tbe sword for truth, and
justice and right, and to you the promise is t
do oi gooa cneer, for your foes have taken
the sword in defiance of all that man holds
dear and in blasphemy of God they shall
perish by the sword.
And now brethren and soldiers, 1 bid you all
farewell. If any of us may fall in the fight of
to-morrow God rest the souls of the fallen
many ol us may live to tell tbe story of the
fight to-morrow, and in the memory of all
will ever rest and linger the quiet scene of
this autumnal night.
Twilight advances over the valley ; the
woods on the opposite bight fling their long
shadows ever the green of tl e meadows a
round us are the tents of the Continental host,
the suppressed bustle of the camp, the buried
tramp of the soldiers to and fro among the
tents, the stillness and silence that mark the
eve ot battle.
When we meet again, may fhe long shadows
of twilight be flung over a peaceful land.
God in heaven grant it.
Let us pray.
Great Father, wc bow before Thee. We in
voke Thy blessing ; we deprecate Thy wrath ;
we return Thee thanks for the past ; we ask
Thy aid for the future. For we are in times
of trouble, oh Lord, and soro beset by foes,
merciless and unpitying; the sword gleams
over our land, and the dust of the soil is dam
pened with the blood of our neighbors and
friends.
Oh ! God of mercy, we pray thy blessing on
the American arms. Make the man of our
hearts strong in thy wisdom : bless.we beseech
thee, with renewed life and strength our hope,
ana my instrument, even George Washington
shower thy counsels on the Honorable, the
Continental Congress; visit the tents of our
host, comfort the soldier in his wounds and
afflictions, nerve bim lor the fight, prepare
mm ior me nour oi Ceatli.
And in the hour of death, oil God of Hosts,
uo mou ne our stay, and in the hour ot tri
umph be our guide.
leacn us to be merciful. Though the
memory of galling wrongs be at our hearts,
knocking for admittance, and they may fill us
with desires lor revenge, yet let us, oh ! Lord,
spare the vanquished, though they never spared
us in meirnouroi butchery and bloodshed
Ana in the hour of death do Thou ruid n
into the abode prepared for the blest ; so shall
we return thauks unto Thee, through Chriit
our ueatenier LiOD prosper the calsk
Amen.
aqe or Meats. Y e do not mean from the
birth, but from the butcher. The Englishman
... .. ! -1 i . ... .
"uuiu insist upon uaving ins oeer at least a
week old, if the weather be not especially hot;
nis mutton not less than mouth old ; and other
meats of such age as he has found them most
savory to his taste. People of other nations
tninK that meats require time some more,
omers less to come into their best condition
for the table. In this country there is much
more areaa ot tainted than of lough meats.
hile shunning Scilla, we have approached
too near Charybdis. We often butcher in the
evening and devour in the morning; and
Buiiieumes eat ior nreaniast mat which was
killed at sunrise. Except in case of necessity,
this is not wise. Meats do not come into that
condition in which they are most readily as
: : I - t . ... ...
aiiuiiaicu, ana most nourishing, until some
time after slaughtering longer in cold than
in warm weather, and longer with some kinds
than with others, at the same season. Until
then, they are tough, and although "there is
no aisputing or tastes;" it must be admitted
that they are, to a large majority of persons
who have fairly made the comparison, less
tasteful, if not absolutely unsavory.
chicken o alad. .v iriena who Tried a
chicken salad with us the other day, asked a
minute description in the igricullurisi for
m ... . -
the benefit of bis better balf and others. The
recipe is a common one, lor ought we know-
pernaps it was used with special skill in the
instance when our friend was so well pleased,
written minutely it reads thus : Mince finely
the white parts of one- chicken previously well
oouea. iaKe blanched, cusp celery and chop
very fine. With 1 measure of tbe minced
chicken, mix 1 measures of the chopped eel
cry. Boil hard one large or two small eggs,
ron tneyoKe nne,and mixing in a teaspoon! ul
oi musiara, ana nearly as much salt, with 1
teacupful of vinegar, pour this over the chick
en. Cut tho boiled whites of the eggs in
rings and lay on top, garnishing also with the
smaller leaves or the celery. Usually the cel
ery is not chopped hair fine enough.
How to Cook Eocs in the Shell. A cor
respondent of tbe Agriculturist writes : "One
way to cook eggs is to drop them into boiling
water, and let remain there three minutes
the water all the time boiling. This hardens
the white next the shell to almost leathery
toughness, while within it is still uncooked.
Another and preferable mode is, to pour boil
ing water upon the eggs ; let them stand in
this 5 minutes; pour off this and add more
boiling water and immediately bring them to
the table in the water. Those taken out at
once will bo somewhat cooked through ; and
those left in five minufes will be "hard boiled,"
or nearly so, and thus the taste of every one
may bo suited and no toughness of the whites
be observed."
Rolled ojp BEEr. Cut pieces of beef, about
broad as a hand and i inch thick, pound
. .
as
well, and add pepper and salt. Cut slices of
bacon of the same size as tbe beef, roll the
slices together, and tie them with a string.
Boil with water enough to cover the meat ;
keep in a pot well closed. When the beef is
tender, take it out, and also balf the liquor ;
let the other balf boil down, and then add the
first half to it. Season with onions and salt to
taste. Cut the strings off the beef and put on
the table with tbe gravy. If to be used on tbe
second day, boil it np again, cutling a
pickle in tbe sauce, and it will be just as good.
If to be kept for a time, put it in a dish and
cover with fat. It will keep good for several
weeks.
Can rr Be 7 Tbe Pittsburg Dispatch says :
A gentleman of our acquaintance asserts
that there are about five'bundred Knights of
the Golden Circle in this county. We are
loth to believe that such a number of men a
bide, even in Western Pennsylvania, so base
as to have taken a solemn oath to disrupt this
government. If there be any let them be ex
posed, in order that they may be properly
dealt with.
Tbe time that tries men's souls Winter.
THE JOURNAL.
THE WAR INCIDENTS AND NEWS.
A Storm in Camp A member of Col. St ara
baugh's regiment, in Camp Negly.Ky., relates
the following remarkable incident, as having
occurred during a recent storm. He says that
"about midnight the thunder and lighting
burst over the camp in all its fury, and a deaf
ning explosion took place in the adjoining
tent. Tbe terrific yells of the sentinel brought
me to my feet. 1 soon found the tent to bo
on fire, and that Lt. Wishart of Fulton and Lt.
West of Frtnklin county, Pa., wer struck by
lightning. Their sides were burnt to a crisp,
yet God's mercy interposed and saved their
lives by the very weapons they had brought
with them to protect themselves from tbe reb--el
foe little dreaming at the time that those
weapons would prove their safety in a storm.
Their swords were melted by their sides by
the subtle fluid, and no doubt exhausted ita
fury and saved their lives." Truly, the ways
of Providence are wonderful.
The imprisonment of Messrs. Maon and
Slidell alarms the New Orleans Cresstnt.
That paper says: "Messrs. Mason and Sli
dell are very old men; therefore, as a matter
of courso,they cannot be expected to withstand
the privations which a dungeon life imposes
upon its victims. They are physically inca
pable they would languish and die under the
deprivations of close confinement, within a
very few weeks. Should this sad result be
brought about by the infernal cruelty of tbe
Lincoln dynasty, we trust President Davis will
order the execution of every prisoner of war
in his possession, and announce in an informal
proclamation that no prisoners of tear will be
taken hereafter.
On Tuesday the 24tb Dec. a man named J.
B. Wharton, residing at Clear Spring, Md.,
approached one of the river pickets near
Williamsport and oflered him $25 to carry a
dispatch to the other side. The soldier made
the lact known to Col. Leonard, who had bim
arrested but not until be had destroyed the
despatch. He is connected by marriage with
Ex Senator Masrn, now at Fort Warren. Ha
is held as a spy.
A Setter Dog, adopted by Fremont's Body
Guard, named "Corporal" is distinguished
for bis intelligent and noble conduct on the
battle-field at Springfield. "Corporal,"found
one of our men lying badly wounded, and in
need of immediate surgical relief. The dog
ran to the surgeon, and by his persistent bark
ing and uneasy movements induced him to
follow to the spot where the wounded guards
man was lying.
The fight at New Market biidge above
Fortress Monroe was but a slight affair. A
company bad been sent out to search for a
man who had been lost in tbe woods the day
before. While near the bridge they wero
suddenly surrounded by 700 rebels, but they
cut their way out without the loss of a man
only six being wounded. Seven rebels are
known to be killed and a number wonnded.
From intimations given, Fortress Monrore is
to be improved and put in complete trim for
action. - The artesian well in the Fortress is
now 367 feet deep, but no water as yet. The
borers think when they get through the bed
ot clay which they have struck that water will
be reached. Water is all that is wanted to
render the Fortress proof against prolonged
siege.
Colonel Corcoran when he was told that
he was to be hunt If one of the privateers
were executed, he said: "Well, sir, I am
ready ; when I engaged in this war I made up
my mind to sacrifice my life, if necessary, in
defence of tbe flag under which I have lived
and gained an honorable position."
The rebels have torn up and destroyed much
of the North Missouri railroad, during the last
weeK. x hey also burned a number of bridges
and culverts and destroyed all the cars within
reach. It is not known who the parties are,
but certain secession residents along the road 1
are suspected.
F. A. Foster of Company B, Kane's Rifles,
received two gunshot waunds in the leg, in
the battle at D rainesville. After receiving
the first shot he sat on the ground firing until
he received the second shot, when he was car
ried off .to the hospital.
The force which Gen. Pope sent aeainit
Lexington, Missouri, burned two ferry boats
belonging to the rebels, and destroyed the
Iron foundry at that place which has been em
ployed by the rebels in casting cannon.
John F.Barnes of Company K, Kane's Rifles,
was shot in the breast in tbe recent battle at '
Drainesville. He dropped bis gun, but as it
was loaded he asked for it and fired at one
more secesb, before be was carried off.
It is rumored that tbe rebels intended to
make an attack upon Forts Hatteras and Clarke
at tbe Inlet. Gen. Williams and his men are
ready for the rebels, and will tender them a
cordial reception.
Eleven hundred soldiers, five thousand stand
of arms, three hundred tons of stores and two
batteries of artillery, have been sent to Quebec.
Canada, by tbe British government during
the last week.
The brig Ellen P. Stewart arrived at Phila
delphia on the 24th, with 291 bales of Sea
i8,an(i cotton, belonging to the United States
! government. It was shipped by flag-officer
iik.. - .
Sarrtnel Campbell of Company E, Kane's
Rifles, wbo had bis nose cut off .by a rifle ball
must be a jolly chap. He says- he bad " smelt
powder" but "never expected to smell a rifle
ball."
Two hundred and forty-nine prisoners havo
arrived at Fortress Monroe -from Fort Warren
who are to bo exchanged for a like- number
now held at Richmond.'
The rebels have Peen tearing up the' rail
road track between Green river - and Bowling
Green in Kentucky.
The progress of tbe second famine in Ire
land caused by the otatoe rot, short crops
of cerals and a general want of - employment
will be read wifh melancholy interst. In
the Provinces of Connaught, Monster and
Lienster the yield of potatoes will not come
up to balf the usual snpply and of this a very
large portion is unfit for human food. A man
bas been already found starved to death in the
highway In Clare, the peasantry of Mayo,
Galway and Sligo suffered from want, both
of food and fuel, while the greater bulk of tha
wearers of Antrim ate out of work. . .
!
II