Huntingdon journal. (Huntingdon, Pa.) 1843-1859, June 08, 1859, Image 1
I F 7 WM. BREWSTER, VOL. XXIV. DITSCELLANEOI7B ADVERTISEMENTS Scrofula, or King's Evil, le a constitutional disease, a corruption of the blood, by which this fluid becomes Vitiated, weak, and poor, -Being in the circulation, it pervades the whole body, and may burst out diseasson any part of it. No organ is free from its attacks, nor is there one which it may not destroy. The scrofulous taint is variously mused by mercurial dizease, low living, dis ordered or unhealthy food, impure air, filth and filthy habits, the depressing vices, and, above all, by the venereal infection. What ever be its origin, it is hereditary in the con stitution, deeeending "from parents to children unto the third and fourth generation ;" indeed, it noms to bb the rod of Him who says, "I will visit the iniquities of the fathers upon their children." Its effects commence by deposition from the blood of corrupt or ulcerous matter, which, in the lungs, liver, and internal organs, is termed tubercles; in the glands, swellings; and on the surface, eruptions or sores. This foul cor ruption, which genders in the blood, depresses the energies of life, to that scrofulous constitu tions not only suffer from scrofulous com plaints, but they have far less power to with stand tho attack's of other diseases; conse quently, vast numbers perish by disorders which, although not scrofulous in their estates, are still rendered fatal by this taint in the system. Mist of the consumption which de ennates the )ninsan fancily has its origin directly in this !scrofulous contamination ; and many destructive diseases of the liver, kidneys, brain, and, indeed, of all the organs, arise from or are aggravated by the same cause. One quarter of nil our people aro scrofulous; their persons are invaded by this lurking in fection, and-their health is undermined by it. To cleanse it front the system we must renovate the blood by an alters tive medicine, and in vigorate it by ( healthy food and exercise. font a medicine we supply in AVERS Compound Extract of Sarsaparilla, the meet effectual remedy which the medical skill of our times can devise for this every where preiailins and fatal malady. It is com bined front the most active remedials that have been dimoyered for the expurgation of this foul disorder from the blond, and the rescue of the system from its destructive consequences. Hence it should he employed for the cure of not only 'screftila, hut also those other affec tions which arise from it, such as %terms Ind S,,e Thatnacit, fur. Arernosy's Pnts, Ross, or %%num.., PIMPLIIII, PUSTULE., BLOTOHREI, BLAIBB and Bona, TUMOR% Ttvua and S.etr Enrol, SCALD DRAT, Rtsavronst, SYETTIBITIC And MERCUAILL DM. AAR., Dnorm Bversesis, DEBILITY, and, indeed, ALL CONIPLAINTII ARISING PROM VITIE. TED on Ittrunn BLOOD. The popular belief in %, impurity of die Mood" is founded in truth, ter semfula is a degeneration of the blood. The particular punxiso and virtue of this Sarsapa rilla is to purify and regenerate this vital fluid, without wisielt mend health it impossible in contaminated constitutions. Ayer's Cathartic Pills, FOR ALL THE PURPOSES OF A FAMILY PHYSIC, are eo composed that dime* within the range of their action min rarely withstand or evade them Their penetrating properties search, and cleanse, and invigorate every portion of the human organ ism, correcting its dimmed action, and restoring it. healthy vitalities. As a consequence of three properties, the invalid who in bowed down with pain or physical debility is astonished to find his health or energy restored by a remedy at once to simple and inviting. Not only do they cure the every-day complaint. of every body, but also many formidable and dangerous diseases. Tho agent below named is pleased to furnish gratis my American Almanac, containing certificates of their cures and direction. fit their use in the following ooniplaints: Casters- nets, Heartburn, Headache arising from disordered Ntomach, Nausea, Indigestion, Pam in and Morbid inrwtion of Ode Bowels, flatulency, Loss of Appe tite, Jatmdiee, and other kindred complaints, arising from a low state of the body or obstruction of its function.. Ayer's Cherry Pectoral, ron Tus RAPID CUTE OP Coughs, Colds, influenza, Hoarseness, ' Croup,Hronchitis, Incipient Consump. lion, and for the relief of Consumptive • Patients in advanced stages of the disease. So wide is the field of its usefulness and eo nu merous aro the eases of its cures, that almost every sec w tion w lCi o coli v n e try abounds in persons licly known, "cies", desperate ilt e e e m n c r a " o of restored lunge its ng snd use. When once tried, its superiority over every other medicine of its kind is too apparent to maple °beer, ation, and where its virtues aro known, the public no longer hesitsto what antidote to employ for the distressing and dangerous affections of the riulmonary organs that are incident to our climate. ile tunny inferior remedies thrust upon the community have failed and been discarded, this has gained friends by every trial, conferred benefit. en the afflicted they can never forget, and pro duced cures too numerous and too remarkable to be forgotten, PREPARED BY DR. J. C. AYER & CO. LOWELL, MASS. dolts READ, Agent Huntingdon, Pa. Nov. 10, 1858.—1 y. SELLING CLOTHING PRICES TO SOT THE TIMES. NEW FALL AND WINTER GOODS, n. Gutman & Co., Infurtu the public generally, that they have just received a large stock of Fall and Winter Goods, consisting of i;OA rs, VESTS, PANTS, &c., &c. Also, BOOTS, SHOES, HATS, OAPS. Ens stock of Clothing is of the latest rash ions, and manufactured of the best materials and as they are determined to sell as cheap as the cheapest, the public will do well to give them a call and examine their stock. 16rDen't forget the place—Longs brick building, on the corner, Market square, Hun• tingdon. 0ct.1:1,'58 Ica - S. It. PETTENOILL & CO.'S Advor• tisiug Agency, 119 Nassau St., New York, & 10 State St., Boston. 'S. B. Pettengill & CO. are the Agents for the "Jon RNal." and the most influential and largest circulating Newspapers in the United States and the Canadas. 'they are authorized to contract for us at our lower rates. elect god v. AFTER THE BATTLE. The drums are all muffled, the bugles are still; There's a pause in the valley—a halt on the bill; And hearers of standards swerve back with a Where sheaves of the dead bar the way. [thrill For a great field is reaped, Heaven's guraers to And stern Death holds his harvest to•day. [fill There's a voice ou the winds like a spirit's low cry— 'Tie the mustenroll sounding- 7 mM who shall reply'. Not those.whuse wan faces glare white to the shy With eyes fixed so steadfast and dimly, Ac they wait that last trump which they may not defy, Whose hands clutch the eword•hill so grimly. The brave heads late lilted, are solemnly bowed. And riderless chargers stand quivering and cowed, As thu burial requiem is chanted aloud, The groans of the death•stricken drowning; While V ict'ry looks on like a queen pale it proud Wtto awaits till the morrow her crowning. There is uo mocking blazon as clay sinks to clay The Pain pumps of the peace-times aro all swept ;may Jo the terrible thee of the dread battle day ; Nor coffins nor shroudings are here ; Only relics that Iv where thieltt the fray— A rent moque and a headless sprit, Far away, tramp on tramp, peals tho lama of the foe, liken storm wave's retreating—spent, fitful and slow, With sounds like their spirits that faint as they By yon red•glowing river whose waters Shall darken with sorrow the laud where they flow To the eyes of her desolate daughters. They are fled—they arc gone ; but oh ! not as they came, In the pride of those numbers they staked on the game, Never more shall they stand in the vanguard of Fain e. Never lift the stained sword which they drew; Never more shall they heost of a glorious name. Never march with the teal and the true, Where the wreck of our legions lay stranded and loyn, They stole on nor ranks in the mists (tithe morn, Like the giant of Gnan, their strength it was shorn Ere those mists had rolled op to the sky ; From the flash of our steel a new day-break seemed born, As we sprang up—to conquer or die. The tumult is silenced : the death lots ace ea,': And the heroes of battle are alumlfring at last. Do ye dreampryou pale form that rude on the blast Would yo tree it once more, 0 ye bravo ? Yes ! the broad road to Honor is red where ye passed, And of Glory ye asked bat—a grave ! - *tictt *torß. Norah Clary's Wise Thought AN IRIS!! LOVE STOEV My Minnie does constantly leuve me, And bids me beware of young met.; They flatter, she says, to deceive me-- But who can tiiiiik so of Tam Glen ? " We way as well give it up, Morr:s Dunovon; look, 'twouid be as easy to twist the top off the great bill of Mouth as make father sad mother agree about one thing. They've been playing the rule of contrary these twenty years, and A's not likely they'll take a turn now." It's mighty hard, so it in," replied Morris, 46 that married people can't draw together.— Norah, duelist, that wouldn't be the way wtth us. Sure it's one we'd be in henrt and sowl, and an example of love and—" 'Folly," interrupted the maiden, laugh• ing. "Morris, Morris, we've quarreled a score of times already; and, to my think• ing, a bit of a breeze makes life all the pleasanter. Shall I talk about the merry jig I danced with Phil Kennedy, or repeat what Mark Doolen said of me to Mary Grey—eh Morris I" The long black lashes of Norah Clary's bright brown eyes almost touched her low but delicately peneled brows, as she looked archly at her lover; her lip curled with a half-playful, half malicious smile, but the glance was soon withdrawn, and the mai den's cheek glowed with a deep and elo quent blush. when the youngman passed his arm around her waist, and pushing the clustering curls from her forehead, gazed upon her with a loving but mournful look. "Leave joking, now, Norry; God only knows how I love you,' he said in a voice deep and broken by emotion; "I'm y'er equal as far as money goes, and no young farmer in the country can tell a better stock to his share than mine; yet I don't pretend to deserve you fur all that; only, I can't help saying that we love each other (note, don't go to contradict me, Norry, because ye've as good as owned it over and over and yer father's agreeable, and A 11 • 1858. ..,-:",arniit. HUNTINGDON, PA., WEDNESDAY, JUNE 8, 1859. to think that ye'r mother, just out of divil ment, should be putting betwixt us; for no reason upon earth, only to spite, her law ful husband, is what set mu mad entirely, and shows her to be a good-for—" "Stop, Minter Morris," exclaimed No rah, laying her hand upon his mouth, ro as effectually to prevent sounds from escap ing; 44 it's my mother ye'r talking about, and it would be ill blood, as well as bred, to hear a word said against an own parent. Is that the pattern of ye'r rnan ners, sir, or did ye ever hear me turn my tongue against one belonging to you I" 4 .1 ex ye'r pardon, my own Norah." he replied meekly, as in duty bound: ..for the sake of the lamb we spare the sheep.— Why not h—aud I'm not going to gainsay but ye'r mother—" least said's the soonest mended !" again interrupted the impatient girl.— ..Good even, Morris, and God bless ye; they'll be after missing me within, and it's little mother thinks where I am." 'Noruh, 'bove all the girls at wake or pattern, I've been true to you. We have grown together,and since we were the height of a rose-bush, ye have been dear er to me than anything else on earth. Do Moral], for the sake of our young hearts' love, do think if there is no way to win ye'r mother over. If ye'd take me with out her leave, sure it's nothing I'd care for the loss of thousands, let alone what you've got. Dearest Norah, think, since you'll do nothing without her consent, do think —for once be serious, and don't laugh," ' It is a fact, equally known and credited in the good barony of Bargy, that Morris Donovon really possessed an honest, sin cere and affectionate heart—brave as it lion and gentle as a dove. 11e was more over, the priest's nephew, understood Lat in as well us the priest himself; and, better t! an even that, he was the beau, the Nlag• nun Apollo of the parish; n fine noble look ing fellow, that all the girls (from the housekeeper's lovely English niece at Lord Gort's, down to the little deaf Hess Mortican, the lame dress timber,) swore regularly and desperately in love with ! still, I must confess (perfection certainly was never found to man,) Morris was nt times a little—the least bit in the world— stupid; not exactly stupid either, but slow of invention, would fight his way out of !a thousand scrapes, but could never get p, ccab y out of one. No wonder, then, that where fighting was out of the clues , lion, he was puzzled, and looked to the ready wit of the merry Norah for essis. tance. ft was not very extraordinary that he loved the fairy creature—the sweetest, gayest of all Irish girls; light of heart. light of foot, light of eye, now weeping like a child oeer a dead chicken, or a plundered 1 nest, then dancing on the !op of a hay-rick to the music of her own cheering voice, now coaxing her termagant wailer, and anon comforting h r henpecked father. 1 Du not let my respected readers imag ine that Mr. and Mrs. Clary were cen. teitiptible Irish bog-trotters, with only a plot of peaces, a pig, and a one rootn cab ! in. Nosuch thing, their rented an lieu ; dyed good acres of bright meadow land, and their comfortable, though somewhat slovenly, farm-yard told of an abundance ; and to spare. Norah was their 'Only child and, had it not been fer the twist ungentle temperament of Mistress Clary, they would have been the happiest, as well as the richest lamily in the district. "I ant net going to laugh, Morris," re. plied the little maid, at last, after a very long pause; "I've got a wise thought in my head for once. His reverence, your uncle, you say, spoke to father—to speak to mother about it. I wonder (and he a e.prtest) that he hadn't more sense. Sure, mother tees the men; but I've got a wise thought. Good night, dear Morris; good night." •the lass sprang lightly over the fence into her own garden, leaving her loverptr. tlu at the other side without possessing any idea of what her "wise thought',might be. When she entered the kitchen, mat tern were going on as usual—her another bust ing in glorious style, and as cross (her husband muttered) "as a bag of wea zles." 1 . Ye'r a pair of lazy hussies I" she ex claimed to two fat, red-armed, stocking less hand-maids; "d'yc think I can keep ye in idleness? Ten cuts to the dozen ! Why 'hat wouldn't keep you in pratees !et alone salt—and suoh illegant flax. too! Barney Leary, ye dirty, ne'r o-good, can ye find no better emphyment this blessed night than kicking the iurf-athes in the cat's lace? Oh, ye'll be mate for the ra ven yet, that's one comfort ! Jack Clary," addressine herself to her husband, who sat quietly in the chimney corner, smok- I ing his doodeen, , "it's well you've got a wife who knows what's what ! God help me, I've little good of a huaano, barring LIDZRTe AND UNION, New AND FORME, ONE AND UOINPARABLE. " ! the name I—Are you sure Black Nell'a in the stable?''--the spouse added. ~ T he cow and;calf--had thee?". Another nod. Bad cess to ye, man alive, can't ye use your tongue, and answer a civil question?" continued the lady. 'My dear," he replied, "sure roe like you has enough talk for ten." Th;s very just observation was like the most truths. so disagreeable that a vary severe storm would have followed, had not Norah stepped up to her father and whispered in his ear— “l don't think the •table door is fas tened.” Mrs. Clary caught the sound, and in no gentle terms ordered her husband to attend to the comforts of Black Nell. go with lather myself, and see," said Nom& "That's like my owe child, always care ful," observed her mother, as the father and daughter closed the door. "Dear father," began Norah, "it isn't altogether about the stable I wanted yer— but--but--the priest said something to day about Morris Donovm." "Yes, darling, and about . yerself, my sweet Norry." "Did you speak to mother about "No, darling she's been so Cross all day. Sure I go through a dale pace and quiet. ness. If I was like other men, and got drunk and wasted, it might be in resin— but that's neither here nor there. As to Morris, she was very fond of the boy till she found that t liked him; : and then, my jewel, she turned like sour milk, all in a minute; I'm afraid even the priest'll get no goy d of her." "Father, dear !littler,' said Nandi, "sup pose ye were to say nothing about it, good or bed, and just pretend to take a suaden dislike to Morris, and let the priest speak to her, she'll soon come round." "Out of opposition to me, eh?" ''Yes." "And let•her gain the day, then? That would b i cowardly," raplied- tie farmer, drawing himself up— , No I won't." 'Tether, deer, you don't understand," said the cunning lass. "Sure, ye're for Morrie, and when we are-- that in, if—l mean—suppose—father, you know what 1 menn," she continued, as luckily the deepening twilight concealed her blushes if that took place, ,t'a you that would have y e'r own way.! 'True for ye, Norry, my girl---true for ye; I never thought of that before !' And pleased ii ith the idea of tricking his wife, the old Inuit fairly capered for joy. 'But stay awhile—stay, nsy, rtsy!' he recom menced : glow am I to manage? Sure the priest himself will be here to-morrow morning early; and he's out upon n station now, and there's en speaking with hint ; lie's no may quick, neither-- we'll be both ered entirely if he comes in on a sadden?.' e Leave it to me, dear father; leave it all to me," exclaimed the animated girl ; it only pluck up a spirit, and whenever Nlarris' mime is mentioned, abuse bun, but not .with all yet• heart, father—only from the teeth out." When they ro-entered, the fresh boiled potatoes sent a curling steam to the rafters of the lofty kitchen; they were poured out onto a large wicker dish, and on the top of the pile rested a plate of coarse white salt; noggins of buttermilk were full on the dyes• ser, and on a small table a cloth was spread, and some dell plates awaited the more delicate repast, which the farmer's ,s•ifu was herself preparing. •'l4'hut's for supper, mother!" inqui red Norah, us she drew her wheel towards her, and employed her Coley foot in tvhirl iug it round. " Plaguey snipeetis," she replied, r• bits o' bog chickens, rent you're-always such fancy for ,'Barney Leary hilt them himself." .So I did," said Bartley grinning; "and that stick with a hood of Morris Donovon's is the finest thing in the world for knock ing 'ens down." " It Norris Dcmovon's stick touched them they shan't come here," said the far mer, striking the poor little table such a blow with his elencued hand, as made not only this, but Mrs. Clary jump. And why so, pray ?" asked the dame. " Because nothing belonging to Morris, let aigne Morris himself, shall comb into the frouse," replied Clary; "he's not my liking, anyhow, and there's no good in his bothering here after what he won't get." "Excellent !" thought Norali. " Lord save as!" ejaculated Mrs. Cla ry, as she placed the grilled snipes on the table, "what's come to the man 1" without heeding his resolution, she was proceeding to distribute the savory birdeen, when, to her astonishment, her usually tame bus eland threw the dish wed its contents into the flames. The good woman absolutely stood for a moment aghast. The calm, however, was not of long duration. She soon rallied, and, with a blazing face and fiery tongue, thus commenced hostilities; From the Gleaner, 1811. glow dare ye, ye spalpeen, throw away Essays from the Desk of Poor Robert any of God's mato after fashion and I, to, the Scribe. the fore ? What do you mane—say ?" THAT'S MII810." si r mane that aothing touched by Morris " Music is the science of sounds, we Donovon shall come under this roof; and are told by that crabbed looking old fellow if I catch that girl of mine looking at the whose conversation was music to Boswell same side o' the road he walks on. by the and Mrs. Thrale; but what sort el sounds powers I'll tear the eyes out o' her head, he does not tell us. It is no matter—there and send her to the nunnery'" is no disputing about taste, and the sound " You w:Il ! And dare you say that to I that would be music to one ear, perhaps to my face, to a child of mine ! You will, another, would be more grating than the will ye. We'il see, my boy! I tell you what, creaking of a wagon wheel. if I like Morris Donovan shall come into The sportsman thinks no music equals this house nnd, what's you never had the that of his hounds, whets they open in full heart in be yet ye poor ould snail ! " cry. The citizens think that no music So saying, Mistress Clary endeavored can excel the harmony of a band. A to rescue from the fire the hissing sn i pes. huntsinari invited a city friend out to his Norish attempted to assist her mother, but country residence, to a fox hunt. The Clary, lifting her up somewhat af.er the • morning came, and the friends rode out to fashion of an eagle raising a goblets wren gether. As they ascended a little hill, the with its claw, fairly put her out of the voice of the dogs broke on the ear. The kitchen door. This was the signal for huntsman in an ecstaey of delight, ex. fresh hostilities. Mrs. Clary stormed and claimed—" Hark !sny dear fellow, do you stamped, and Mr. Clary presisted in tiba- hear that music ?" The citizen listened: sing, not only Morris, but Morris' uncle, 'Music," cried he, " no—l don't hear a Father Donotan, until at last the farmer's note of it, the cursed dogs raise such a helpmate swore, aye nnd roundly, too, by yell " cross and satnt, that before the next sunset ; I In return for the visit, the dolintryinan 'Notch Clary should be Norah Donavan. I waited on his frldnd in the city, who took I wish you could have seen Norah's eye, him to the themre ;—the curtain bad not dancing with joy and exultation as it pee.' risen, and the band from the orchestra ped through the latch-hole; it sparkled I struck up .The battle of Prague:" 'Lis more brightly than the richest diamond ten my fiend" raid ctt, "did you ever a monarch's crown, for it was filled with hear such heavenly strains?" I can't hear hope and love. them for my life," cried the countryman, The next morning was clear lad frosty; those noisy fellows in the cellar snake long, slender icicles hung from the branch. I such a horrid racket." es of the wild hawthorn and holly, and To our bucks, the violin as the best mu• even under the light foot of Norah, the sic To our merchants, it is music to glazed herbage crackled like feilthery hear the purse chink on the collator with glass. The Mountain rill murmured —"I'll take a couple of patterns, if you antler s frost-bound covering; and the i please." A just cause and a good fee, poor sheep, in their warm fleeces gazed make excellent music to our lawyers.— iimurnfully ou the landscape, beautiful as "Will you take a sleighride to Colt's Mina" it was in the morning light, for neither on I is music to our. young ladies;. btt— hill or dale could they discover a mouth. I "Will you marry me, my pretty maid?" ful of grass. The chill December breeze . when the question comes from the favctite rushed unheeded o'er the glowing cheek ofl, lad, possesses all the charms of harmony Norah Clary, for her wise thought" had and melody combined. And to the printer prospered, and she was hastening to the it is music to be told. have brought you trysting•tree, whore," by chance," either a half dozen new patrons." morning or evening, she generally met But to old Robert : I will tell you what Morris Donovan. I don't know how it is, is music. To rise as the moaning" peers but the moment thai the course of true through the golden windows of the east," love runs smooth, it becomes very unit , - I and to bear the hamm , r of industry region teresting, except to the parties concerned, ding through the village. Su it is now only left for me to nay that To walk up the bank to the cabin of the the maiden, after a true and proper time I old blind soldier, and to hear him say, "I consumed in teazing and taailzing her in- fought for my country when I was young, tended, a practice, by the way, which I and now, though lam old and blind, I am strongly recommend, as the best mode of comfortable, for my countrym• n are not discovering the temper, &c., of the gentle. ungratetul--they remember me this cold men,)told him her saucy plan and its re• and inclement season "--that would be salt. And the lover bast.' upon the music. wings of love (which I beg my readers to Ye, who are favored with plenty--Ye, 'understand ore swifter mid stronger in Ire.l who are blest to your , bask.it mid your land than in any other country) to apprise I store,' now, while the cold winds of win• the priest of the arrangement, troll know- ter blow so cheerlessly around us, forget leg that his reverence loved his rephew, not the Poor; but by your charities, light and niece that was to be, too well not to up the smiles of joy and gratitude in the aid their merry jest. !rases of the children of want. Then What bustle, - what preparation, what will your consciences tell you well done— feasting, whet danding, game the country and oh ! that will be delightful music folks enough to talk about during the hap py Christmas holidays, 1 cannot now de scribe. The bride, of course. looked lovely and sheepish ; and the bridegroom— pshaw l—bridegrooms are always ;minter esting, One fact, however, is worth re. cording. When Father Donovan conclu• dod the ceremony, before the bridal kiss •liid pained, Farmer Clary, without any reason that his wife could discover, most indecorously sprang up, seized a st illelali of biota oak, and whirling it rapidly over his head, shouted Cnrr, the out by the powers, she's bet !wu'vo won the day !Ould Ireland for• ever,—success; boys ! she's bet !—she's but !" The priest, too seemed vastly to enjoy this extemporaneous effusion. and even the bride laughed outright. Whether the wife discovered the plot or not, I never heard : but of this I am ce r . tam, that the joyous Norah never had roe. eon to repent her ,‘ Wise Thought," ggrA neighbor of mine wits fairly or otherwise accused of sheep stealing, and the day was set when he was to answer the charge before a court of justice. But, 1.19 it happened, before the day of trial he sick- oned and died. Hie old mother over• wheluted with grief, had sat long by the corpse, filling the house with wailing and Lamentation. At last a thought seemed to atiike her : she brightened up, and, throw ing up het hands, she piously ejaculated; •Well, thank God, he is out of tho sheep scrape any how !" @sr Posts made from the limbs and up per parts of the tree always last the long, *dui Pisa Despise no Man A beautiful story is somewhere related of Abou Ben Adem an Arabian sage, who awoke one night from a peaceful sleep, such as the good only enjoy, and saw an angel standing in his room, within the pile moonlight, writing in a golden book. Ber. Adem interrogated the vision as to the. contour of the book. I am writing,, re plied the angel, the names of those who love the Lord. Is mine one? asked Abou. The angel replied that it was not written in the little book. If not, returned the sago, write me as one who loves his fellow men. The vision •wrote and vanished, but returned the following night, radiant with the glory of the upper world, and showed Ben Adem his own name, regis tered in letters of gold, assuring him that he was the happy recipient of God's spe: clef blessing. Despise no man—no not the most aban doned wiatched creature that inhabits Gud's footstool, or breathes the same atmos phere with you ; despise him nut. Ito may be truly miserable and yet be as truly deserving. How little do you know of the peculiar circumstance or temptations, which have dragged him down ? Think you, dear reader, you would have been really better than he had you passed the name ordeal 1 God spares him, and does not cut hint off, so may he not you. Hate the sin, despise not the man. He is a living soul possibly destined to shine in eternal glory, as the stare now do in the firmament. On, and on that soul will con tinue to shine and sing amid the beauties of the heavenly world, long after the sun and moon have refused their light, and Editor & Proprietor. NO. 23, the world with all its glory has passed into eternal oblivion. Love all men. Let that abandoned, wretched man know that you love him, and wish him well, and you may win his heart, and thereby turn him from his evil way, and be instrumental in net ting hip feet in that narrow path which leadeth up to life. To you the past may appear as a fair bright page upon which you may love to look. With that wretched drunkard who lies at your feet, the past has in it nothing but sorrow, upon which his memory can not linger without pain and reatorse. Scatter the flower-seeds of charity, along the track of life as you pass on, they will wing up and become sweet-scented blos soms, delighting those who follow. Let your good deeds be frequent as April showers, that you may reap a rich re ,veld at the end of life, It is not your preroga tive to sit in judgment against your fel low-men. The Reapers," gather the wheat and tares, at the end of the world. A harvest in which, man, as a laborer, cannot participate. Dispirits no men.••- None. The homeless, tare worn, wenry, and disconsolate are entitled to your warmest sympathies, Comfort them. They wear the common garb of humanity, with you, and the land of promise is divided from the present, by the same dark narrow sea.' "Upon my lute—there is one string Brakes ; the chords were drawn too fast ; The heart is like that string ; if tried Too touch, is eaapt in twain at lest." The Empty Cradle. ..The mother gate, in tears and pain, The flowers sho most did love, She knew she'd find them all again, In fields of light above." The death of a little child is to the moth er's heart like dew on a plant from which and has perished. The plant lifts up its head in freshened greenness to the nu-ru ing light, so the mother's soul gathers from the dark sorrow through which she has passed, a fresh brightening of her heaven. ly hopes. As she bends over the empty cradle, and in fancy brings the sweet in. tarn before her, a ray of divine light is on the cherub's face. It Is her son still, but with the seal of immortality oil his brow, She feels that heaven was the only atmos phere where her precious flower could unfold without spot or blemish and she would not recall the lost. But the anal versary of its departure seems to bring its spiritual presence near her. She indulges , in that tender grief which soothes like an opiate to pain all her passions and cares of life. The world is no longer filled with human love and hope---in the future, so glorious with heavenly love and joy, site has treasures of happiness which the world ly, unehastened heart never conceived. The bright fresh flowers with which she had decorated her room, tho apartment where her infant died, are emblems of the far and brighter hopes now dawning on her day dream. She thinks of the glory and beauty of the New Jerusalem, where the little foot will never find a thorn among the flowers to render a shoe necessary.-- Nor will a pillow be wanting for the dear head reposing on the breast of the kind Savior. And she knows her infant is there in that world of eternal bliss. She has marked one passage in that Book---.to her emphatically the Word of Life----now lay ing close on the toilet table, which she reads daily. • Suffer little children, sad forbid them not to come into the ; for of such is the kingdom of Heaven.' THE VOICE OF rut WizANo-Downs.— A 6 whang-doodle" preacher wound up a flaming sermon with this magnificent per oration : " Aly brethering and sistern ! et a man's full of religion, you can't hurt him ! There was the three arabian children; they put 'em in a firey furnace, heeted seven times hotter than it could be het, and it didn't singe a har on their heads ! And there was John the Evangeler ; they put him and where do you think brethring and sisters, they put him? Why they put him in a caladronie of biltn' ile, and Heti him al/ night, and it didn't faze his shell ! And there was Daniel; they put hint into a lion's den and what my fellow travellers and respected nuditories, do you think ha was put into a lion's den for? Why, ter praying, three times a day. Don't bs al armed, brethering and sistern ; I don't think any of you will ever get into a lion's den for a like offence. THE BLOOM OP Aos.—lt has been beeu• tifully remarked that a good woman never grows old. Years may pees over her head, but if benevolence and virtue dwell in her heart, she is as cheerful as when the spring of life opened to her view. 'When we look at a good woman, we never . thick of her age ; she looks as charming as when the rose of health first bloomed on her cheek. That mac has not faded yet, it never will fade. In her neighborhood she is the friend and benefactor. Who does not respect and love thelwoman who has passed her days acts of kindness and mercy ? We repeat, snob a women can never grow old. She will elways fresh and buoyant iu virile, and active in humble deeds of mercrand believe lens*.