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THE GARLAND
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—"With sweetest flowers eurich'd,
From various gardens cull'd with care."
From the Baltimore Transcript.
TO the American Flag.
BY JORE:PII C. 2031310.
Ware on proud flag! no reckleaa hand
Shall tear thee from the mast;
Upon thy folds a patriot band,
Their looks of pleasure cast.
Beneath the shade bow many men
Have trod the field of death!
And turned their eyes upon thee, when
They gave their parting breath.
How oft upon Atlantic's wave
Thou'at soon the gallant crow
When blood their dauntless bosoms lived,
And swift the lightning flew.
The sailor walks the deck—and now
Ho climbs tho lofty spars,
And loves to raiao his manly brow
To see the "stripes and stars."
And led by theo in days of yore,
Our fathers fought and bled;
That by their valor-thoy might o'er
lie, freedom's blessing shed.
Truro of the braveri in every clime
Thy presence shall be known,
And ages in remotest time
Shall all thy glories own.
When floating o'er the rampart's height,
And fanned by midnight air;
The eters look on thee with delight
"'s.e - t.ee their image there.
:cad tide.
.0'; • on proud flag ! in splendor wave,
"VA Lime shall be no more:
Wave on ! over the free and brave,
In peace—or battle's roar.
When war upon our country frowns,
And hovers o'er the sea,
Again thou% lead Columbia's sons
To death or victory.
VEBUI EilE1111)0WIIVOL2Nto
From the Ladies Companion.
THE CHEAT.
pR, THE OLD MAN OUTDONE.
'WELL, Julia, suppose I ask your father
6ny how; hisirefusal cannot make things
&dab worse tffin they are at present. Sus
pense, Julia, is the cause of the most miser
able feelings.'
t 'We must not be too hasty Robert, our
situation requires caution ; by a little man
agement we may possibl% succeed gloomy
us the prospect appears to be. Now don't
say anything to pa about it-1 had much
rather you would not. The best possible
wny to accomplish our wishes is not to ad-
Vance too soon.'
'Too an"^. —too soon, Julia. Have we
,; ; .• • . .tro years and more, and have
yvt.. not been preaching the same doctrine
'too soon all the while? Too soon in
deed!'
'Well now, don't be angry ; throw that
frown from your countenance and look
pleasant; we'll immediately set about some
plan by mhich to effect what you so much
desire come smile away your anger—the
skies of love are sometimes clear.'
Robert Moultrie had loved Julia Hallo
• and she loved him about tour years and
kt half—more or lets ; twu years had passed
'aim) they had agreed, 'come weal, come
woe,' they would drudge thro' life together.
"Two long, long years l—no wonder Robert
tad lost his patience the wonder is why
not lost hers. Two years would
.. .li i iin,lhrbit an eternity to watt upon the eve
tzlniiiiss, and yet delay the happy •consuni
%,tvill.ftt.
: 81 Tria's father was a wealthy shipper of
ilrport of Charleston, South Carolina.
";:wpit old ,inhabitant may remember the
-Hallowell and Haddington. He
414 1 ? AN upright and honorable man, but
an old school aristocrat, whose ipso
4.llxet 'was law supreme wherever his power
".could be exercised.
Robert Moultrie was a clerk in his coun•
fin room, and his salary which was his
"bole dependence, though
.14 above the pit
lance allowed for the, service of young men
:similarly situated, and amply - sufficient to
warrant him la assuming the expenses of u
did. nut elevate liiin to tlatt import
*Lice society whichwould justify him in
'preeuming. upon. t h is hand and heart of the
.dughteit of tt. wealth shyer,
was unimpeachable,and he was as much res.
The character of this young gentleman
peeled for his talents as he was fur his cor
rect deportment ; but (but is a wicked word)
the curse of Gingankin was on him—he
Was poor.
Robert had been in the counting room
of Mr. Hallowell since he was 14 years of
Iwo ; he had grown up in his family and by
die side of this lovely heiress, who had been
promised to a thing of wealth and show—
that thing was in the Indies, amassing rich•
es to lay at the feet of his beautiful bride;
and his soul had on :t the stain of dishonor,
and Julia had vowed before God he should
never call her wife. Mr. Hallowell knew
that Robert generally attended his daughter
to church, went and come with her when
she visited her friends and so on; but be
never dreamed that the wily cupid was
wielding his darts successfully in the bosom
of both ; and the arrows of the little god
were firmly fixed, and he dealt out the silk•
on cord until they were tar out upon the sea
of love, too far to proceed or. return without
each other.
'Do toll me, Robert, what is the matter
with you ? I have been a witness to your
downcast looks and sorrowful appearance
until I have grown melancholy myself.
What's the matter boy?'
This question was asked by Mr. Hallo
well one day when he and Robert were in
' the counting-room alone ; and if any indi•
vidual has vur passed through a like fiery
trial, he can have some idea of Robert's
feelings, when the man whose daughter he
loved, and was contrivim the best plan to
get her from him, addressed him in such
kind and affectionate language. It went
too deep however, into the secrets of Rob.
ert's bosom for him to return a quick re
ply. Mr. Hallowell plainly saw that some
thing' was working on his mind that made
him unhappy, and he wished if possible to
remove the cause ; he urged a candid reve
lation of all that affected his feelings and
promised his assistance to relieve him to
whatever amount it required. Robert suc
ceeded, however, in putting him off for that
time, and trembled at the thought when at
their next meeting; he related the matter
to Julia.
thought' said she, laughing, 'you were
not so anxious to ask the old gentleman as
you appeared' to be ; now that is a stumper,
Robert. Why did you not tell him?
Why did you not ? Ha ?'
'Julia do you think he suspects us?'
'Not a whit more than he does the King
of the.-French!'
'Well Julia, to tell the truth of the mat
you it.. murion,g ;.seni•
lion of telling him all about our affections
for each other; and it ho refused, I was de
termined to act for myself without further
advice; but when I came before him 1 felt
something in my throat choking me, and I
could scarcely talk about business, much
less about love affairs.'
The lovers often met and the voyage from
the Indies being threatened, it became nec
essary that they should prepare for the
trials that seemed to await them. In the
mean time Mr. Hallowell was endeavoring
to ascertain the cause of his clerk's unhap
piness, more for the good of the young man
than he cared about the unimportant mis
takes made by him in his accounts. The
next opportunity that offered he repeated
his former question, and insisted on an im
mediate rely. Robert stuttered and stam
mered a good deal, and at last he came out
with it—'l am attached to a young lady in
this city, sir, and have reason to believe
she is as much attached to me; but there
is an obstacle in the way, and—"
'Ay, indeed I And does the obstacle a
mount to more than a thousand dollars
If it does not, you shall not want it. I'll
fill up a check now. Have all the parties
consented 1'
'Why, sir, the cause of my—the reason
—the--that is—the cause of my uneasiness
is, I am afraid her father will not consent.'
'Will not consent! why ? Who is he'
—Refer him to me, I'll settle the matter.'
'He is a rich man, sir, and I am no
'His daughter loves you, does she 7'
think—l—yes, sir. '
, She says she d9es, any how, don't she?'
'Why, I—yes—she—yes, sir, she said
as much.'
'ls the old fellow very rich?'
'I believe, sir, he is tol---tolerably well
'And he won't consent? By the powers
of love he must be an old Turk—he won't
hey? Here, give me his name, I'll soon
settle the matter; but stop, has he any
thing against you ?—is he acquainted with
your character?—does he know me ?' Here
the old gentleman went over' a string of i
questions which Robert felt no disposition
to answer, and which it is not worth while
here to relate. The conclusion of the con
ference left Robert in the possession or a
check for one thousand dollars, a letter of
introduction to Parson Green of the Pres
byterian Church, and the following advice
froth the lips of his father-in.law in prospec
tive. He was to run away with• the girl—
to use his (Mr. Hallowell's) carriage—and
George his black waiter, was to drive it—
and so forth. iii
• Robert governed himself in strict - accor
dance with the advice given, and before
dark the partiew were before Parson Green's
whose scruples of conscience were quieted
by the introduction letter. They were soon
pronounced man and wife and jumped into
the carrriage, followed by a blessing from
Parson• Green, whose fee was a small part
of the thousand dollar check. George was
directed to drive the carriage to a rich old
childless uncle of Robert's who lived about
fire miles from the city, to whom the secret
IiC7"FEaR.IiESS .I. : D FREE..,DII
ROBERT S. P&IXTO.111 EDITOR .1.4 1 1) PROPRIETOR
oiauttelramv.a.a. wvatazkaa . ofia)aa.ai azooco
was told, who thought the joke was too
good not to be enjoyed, and sent out for
some of his neighbors. Mid-night found
the jovial assembly destroying the good
things the aunt had provided, and laughing
over the trick so successfully played upon
the wealthiest shipper of the South.
Early in the morning, Robert and Mrs.
Moultrie were attended by their uncle and
aunt to the house of Mr. Hallowell—the
young couple anxious for the effervescence
of a father ' 6 wrath to be over—and the an
tiquated pair to act as modificators on the
question. They were met in the parlor by
.Ir. Hallowell whose first words were:
`You young rogue, you, little did I know
how my advice was Coact upon me. 'Well,
Robert.' he added, laughing heartily, 'you
caught me that time, and you deserve to
be rewarded for the generalship you have
displayed. Here, my boy--my son, I sup•
pose I must say, here is a deed of property
worth eleven thousand dollars, and hence
forth you are my partner in business."
The Flogging.
The following article, from the "Military
Sketch-book," is clever-and affecting. The
actual infliction of the flogging is evidently
drawn by one who has watched the reality
with no trifling degree of feeling. This
sketch is worth many pamphlets on, the sub
joct.
"PARADE, sir!—parade sir!—There's a
parade this morning sir!"
With these words, grumbled out by the
unyielding lungs of my servant,' was awak
ened from an agreeable dream in my barack
room bed, one morning, about a quarter be:
fore eight o'clock.
"Parade!"—l reflected a moment; 'yes,'
said 1, 'a punishment parade.'
I proceeded to dress; and as I looked out
of my window I saw that the morning was
as gloomy and disagreeable as the duty we
were about to perform. 'Curse the punish-
ment!—curse the crimes!' muttered I, to
myself.
was soon shaved, booted and belted.—
The parade call was beaten,and in a moment
I was in the barrack yard.
The non•cnmmissinned officers were
marching their squads to the ground; the
officers like myself, Were turning out, the
morning was cold as well as foggy, and
there was a sullen melancholy expression
upon every man's countenance indicative of
the disrelish they had for a punishment pa
rade; the faces of the officers, as upon all
such occasions, were particularly serious;
the woman of the regiment were to be seen
in silent groups at the barrack-windows, in I
sow, n yipeatea
heart, and made it sick. Two soldiers were
to receive 200 lashes each. One of them,
a corporal, had preserved a good character
for many years in the regiment; but he hnd
been in the present instance seduced into
the commission of serious offences by an as '
sociate of very bad character. Their crimes
larising doubtless from habits of intoxication,
were disobedience of orders, insolence to
the serjeant on duty, and making away with
some ot• their necessaries.
The regiment formed on the parade, and
we marched in a few minutes to the riding.
houses,where the triangle was erected,about
which the men formed a square, with the
colonel, the adjutant, the surgeon, and the
!drummer, in the centre.
'Attention!'. roared out the colonel ; the
word, were it not that it was technically ne
cessary, need not have been used, for the
attention of all was most intense; and scarce
ly could the footsteps of the last men closing
in, be fairly said to have broken the gloomy
silence of the riding house. The two pr.s
oners were now marched into the centre of
the square, escorted by a corporal and four
mon.
'Attention!' was again called, and the ad
jutant commanded to read the proceeding
of the court martial. W hen he had conclu•
dod, the colonel commanded the private to
'strip.'
The drummers now approached the trian
gle, four in ['Limber, and the senior took ui
the 'cat,' in order to free The 'tails' from en•
tanglement with each other.
Strip, sir,' repeated the colonel, having
observed that the prisoner seemed reluctant
to oboy the first order.
'Colonel,' replied he,in a determined tone,
I volunteer.'*
'You'll volunteer,will you, sir?'
'Yes, sooner than I'll be flogged.'
am not sorry for that. Such fellows as
you can be of no use to the service except in
Africa. Take him back to the guard house,
and let the necessary papers be made out for
him immediately.'
The latter part of the sentence was ad- '
dressed to the corporal of the guard Who es
coiled the, prisoners; and accordingly the
man who/volunteered was marched ofT a
morose frown and contemptuous sneer
strongly marked on his countenance.
The colonel now addressed the other prig
over. .
'You are the last man in the regiment I
could have expected to find itithis situation.
I made you a corporal, sir,from a belief that
you were a deserving man; and you had be
fore you every hope of further promotion;
but you have committed such a crime that I
must, though unwilling, permit the sentence
of the court which tried you to take its of
fect.'
. Then, turning to the sergetmt.major,
he ordered him to cat off the corporal's
stripes from his jacket: this was done, and
the prisoner then stripped,without the slight
est change in him stern• but penitent counter
nonce.,
'Men under Sentence of court martial
were allowed the option of either suffering
the sentepee, or volunteering to terve ou the
coast of Africa%
1 V Bvery one of the regiment felt for the un.
fortunate corporal's situation; for it wne be
lieved that nothing but intoxication and the
persuasion of the other prisoner who had
Volunteered, could have induced him to sub
ject himself to the punishment he was about
to receive, by committing such a breach of
military law as that of which he was con•
victed. The colonel himself; though appa
rently rigorous and determined, could not,
by all his efforts, hide his regret that a good
man should he thus punished: the affected
frown and the loud voice in command but
ill concealed his real feelings; the struggle
bet Ween the head and the heart, was plainly
to be seen; and if the head had but the
smallest loophole to have escaped, the heart
would have gained a victory. But no alter
native was left; the man had been a corporal
and, therefore, was the holder of a certain
degree of trust from his superiors; had he
been a private only, the crime, might have
been allowed to pass with impunity, on ac
count of his thrtner good character; but as
the case stood,the colonel could not possibly
pardon him, much as he wished to do so.—
No Officer was more averse to flogging, in
any instance, than he was; and whenever he
could avert that punishment, consistent with
his judgment, which at all times was regu
lated by humanity, he would gladly do it.
Flogging was in his eyes an odious punish
ment, but he found that the total abolition
of it was impossible; he therefore held the
power over the men, but never used it when
it could be avoided. His regiment was com
posed of troublesome spirits, and courts
martial were frequent; so were sentences to
the punishment of the lash; but seldom, in
deed, were those punishments carried into
execution; for, if the colonel could find no
fair pretext, in the previous conduct of the
criminal, to remit hie sentence, he would
privately request the captain of the company
to intercede for him when about to be tied
up to the triangle; 'thud placing the man un
der a strong moral obligation to the officer
under whose immediate command he was;
and, in general, this proved far more than
the punishment ever could have done.
The priaoner was now atript, and 'ready
to be tied when the colonel asked him why
he did not volunteer for Africa, with the oth
er culprit.
"No sir," replied the man; "I've been a
long time in the regiment, and I'll not give
it up for three hundred lashes; not tha
care about going to Africa. I deserve my
punishment, and I'll bear it ; but I'll not quit
the regiment yet, colot.el."
The sentiment, uttered in a subdued but
manly manner, was applauded by a smile of
uuky
most o' all by the old colonel, who took great
•pains to show the contrary. His eyes, al-
though shaded by a frown, beamed with
pleasure. He bit his nether lip—he shook
his head—but all would not do; he could
not look displeased, if he had pressed his
brow down to the bridge of his nobs); for ho
felt flattered that the prisoner thus openly
preferred a flogging to quitting him and his
regiment.
The man now presented hts hands to be
tied up to the top of the triangle, and his legs
below ; the cords Were passed around them
in silence, and all was ready. I saw the
colonel at this moment beckon to the sup
geon, who approached, and both whispered
a moment.
Three drummers now stood beside the tri
angle, and the seargent, who was to Ore the
word for each lash, at a little distance oppo.
site.
The first drummer began,and taking three
steps, forward, applied the lust► to the sold
dier's back—"one.
Again he struck—"two."
Again and again, until 'twenty-five, were
collo.] by the seargent. Then came the sec•
and drumener,and performed his twenty-five.
Then dame the third) who was a stronger
and more heavy striker than his coadjutor&
in office ; this drummer brought the blood
out upon the right shoulder blade,which per
ceiving, he struck lower on the back; but
the burgeon ordered him to strike again
upon the bleeding part. I thought this was
cruel ; but I learnt aPer, from the surgeon
himself, that it give much less pain to ton
tints() the blows as directed ; than to strike
upon the untouched skin.
The poor fellow bore without a word his
flagellation holding his head down upon his
breast, both his arms being extended, and ti
ed at the wrists above his head. At the first
ten or twelve blows he never moved a mus-
cle; but at the twenty-fifth he clenched his
teeth and cringed a little from the lash.
During the second twenty five, the part upon
which the cords fell became blue, and ap•
peered thickened, for the whole space of the
shoulderblade and centre of the back ; and
before the fiftieth blow was struck,we could
hear a smothered groan from the poor suffer
er, evidently caused by his efforts to stifle
the natural exclamations of acute pain. The
third striker as I said, brought , the blood; it
oozed from the swollen skin,-and moistened
the cards, which opened its way from the
veins, The colonel directed a look at the
drummer, which augured nothing advanta
geous to his interest ;, and on the fifth of his
twenty-five, cried out to him, "halt sir l you
know as much about using the 'cat' as you
do of your sticks." Then addressing the
adjutant, he suid„"send that fellow away to
drill; tell the drum major to give him two
hours additional practice. 'with the sticks
every. day for a week, in order to bring his
hand. Into—a—proper movement."
The drummer slunk away at the order of
the 114nm:st r and one of the others took up
the 'cat.' .the colonel now looked at the
surgeon, and 1. could perceive a alight nod
pass, in recognition of something previously
arranged, between them. This wasievident
y the case, Cur the listter inetautly went later.
to the punished man, and having asked him
a question or two, proceeded formerly to the
colonel,and stated something in a low voice,
upon which the drummers were ordered to
takc the man down. This was accordingly
done; and when about to be removed to the
regimental hospital, the colonel addressed
him thus: "Your punishment, sir. is tit end,
you may thank the surgeon's opinion for be
ing taken down so soon." (Every one knew
this was only a pretext.) 1 have only to ob
serve to you, that as you have always, pre
vious to tbis fault been a good man, 1 would
recommend you to conduct yourself well for
the future,and 1 promise to hold your promo
tion open to you as before."
The poor fellow replied that he would do
so, and then hurst into tears, which he strove
in vain to hide.
Wonder not that the hard cheek of a sol
dier was thus moistened by a tear ; tho
heart was within his bo.iom, and these tears
came from it. Tho lash could not force
one from his burning eyelid : but the word
of kindness, the breath of tender feelings
from his respected colonel, dissolving the
stern soldier to the grateful and contrite
penitent."
A NOBLE FRENOHMAN.—During the re
treat of the patricas,after the batrle of Wind
sor, on the 4th ult., a soldier had in some
way got separated from his company, and
being hotly pursued by the British troops,
took refuge in the humble dwelling of a
Frenchman, which happened to be at hand.
It was early in the morning; the Frenchman
had risen, but his wife had not. The soldier
hastily asked—
" Are you a patriot!"
"Oui Monsieur;" .said the Frenchman,
"you Patriot too."
"Yes."
The whole souled Frenchman,in a (wink.
ling, clapped a woman's night cap on the
soldier% head and hurried him into bed with
his wife who was in the same room. The
clothes were scarcely adjusted, ere the
British entered in pursuit; but seeing only
two women in bed and the Frenchinan up,
they asked for the rebel they hnd seen en.
ter a moment before. The Frenchman
pointed to the bush, through the back door,
and away they Went pail melt, at chase of
the rebel, who by the aid of his noble host
and a canoe, was soon in safety on the A
merican soil.—Detroit Morning Post.
WELnittaifis.-.. 3 EloqUence is the language
of nature,' as the jackass said when he had
done braying.
'And darkness was upon the face of the
tn the drunken
ger vat vas snoozing in the gutter.
believe your bill is filed,' as the mer
chant said to the musquetoe.
'Necessity is the mother of invention,'
as the cook, said, van she used her night
cap for a pudding bag.
'I don't stand in need of your serviceti i 3
as the nigger said to the curling tongs.
"Forget me not," as the trap Said yen it
took off the fox's tail.
hum Txme..--A dandy seeing a newly
imported Itiihman passing the gates of the
Prince's Dock, at Liverpool, cried out—
"Arah, Pat, what's o'clock by your red
stockings 1" "Just striking tone," said
Paddy, at the same moment floorin the,Ex
quisite With his shillalah.
PROFITABLE BUSINEB9.-A oountry edi4
tor says—"We understand that an individ•
ual of this town says he has made fifteen
hundred dollars by attending to his own bus.
iness i and five hundred dollars more by let.
ting other people's business alone."
Ftom the Boston Motning Post.
We requested one of our poetical corres
pondents the other day, to fatter us with
something SENTIMENTAt, and here it is:
very good, WHAT . THERE IS of IT, and
enough of it, suet' Al IT is!
Suppose a free 's long reaching nosh
Should 'gainst a window dash,
In one of nature's breezy whims,
And knock it all to smash;
Amid the clatter and dismay,
What think you would the fragkerifir say
-.Ye ministers of grace defend us?"--
Nor that, friend Charles, they'd cry "tree
mend-us!"
The bravest men•in theworld—those who
da not scandalize thoir neighbors.
The fated men in the world—rich , prin
ters.
A SNUG PROFIT.-It is computed that
Rothschild haEi an annual gain from the
Spanish Quicksilver mines of 090,000
francs.
"Pennsylvania never cheated. her cred
tore as the Governor said when he heard
he loan was not taken.-
FiIGIIT of FANCY --Harriet Martineau
speaks of a negro praying, 'Come down,
0 Laid, on your white• hose•a•kicking, and
a prancing?" •
VUlTERa3,6xmcom Odiaqi),LIVEMMV
What will you hate?.
After a day's work of calculation and ca
pying, I wab under the mortifying. necessity
of waiting an hour in the tap-room of a low
tavern, to secure the services of the mail
guard, who was to carry a parcel for my em
ployers. Amidst the smoke, the spitting
and the clatter of a crowd of inn -haunters, 1
could not but find some subjects of reflection.
The presiding frau& of the liar was a
[WHOLE NO: 471
bloated, carbuncled, whiskered young math
whom I had long known as the abandoned
son of a deceased friend. I sighed, and was
silent. Ever end anon, as one after another.
or squads of two, three or more, approached
his shrine, to receive and empty their glatt;
ses, and deposit their sikpences, I heard the
short, peremtory formula of the Bacchanal
minister—"what will you have?—brandy?
gin? punch? What will you hare?" And
the victims severally Ina& their bids, for a
smaller, a cocktail, a sling, or julep, as the
case might be. The - constant repetition of'
"the form in that ease made and provided,"
set me upon a drowsy meditation on the preg
nant question, "what will you have?" "Mo.
thinks I can nnswer that question," said Ito
myself, as I cast a glance around the murky
apartment. And first to the young shoema
ker, who, with a pair of newly finished boots,
is a king for "grog." What will you have?
Young man, you will soon have an empty
pocket.
There is a trembling, ragged man, with
livid spots under the eyes. He is a machine.
maker, and has lodgings in the house. What
will you have? Ahl the bar-keeper knows,
without an answer: he takes gin and water.
Poor man! I also know what you will have..
Alread3 you have been twice at death's door;
and the gin will hot drive off that chill. You
will have typhus fever.
There comes my neighbor, the bookbin.
der. His hand shakes as he raises his full
glass. Alt Shannon! I dread to say it —but
you will halve the palsy.
The glasses are washed out,not cleansed,
in the slop•tub under the shelf. Now a fresh
bevy comes up, cigar in hand. Gentlemen,
what will you have? I chooie to supply the
answer for myself; thus:—The baker there
will have an apoplexy or a sudden fall in
his shop. The tailor in green glasses will
have, or rather has already, a consumption.
And I fear the three idlers in their train will
have the next epidemic that shall sweep off
our refuse drunkards.
But what will that man have who leafs
over the table. seeming to pure over the last
"Herald?" He is scarcely resolved what he •
shall drink, or whether he shall drink at alt.
I understand the language of his motions;
he is a renegade from the temperance ranks.
He has borrowed money this week. John,
you will have lodgings in a jail.
Sony, indeed, am I to see in this den,Mr.
Scantling,the cooper. Not to speak of him.
self, 1 have reason to believe that both hit
grown sons are beginning to drink. He
looks about him suspiciously. Now he has
plucked up courage. He takes whiskey..
You will have a pair of drunken sons.
atnienno!La .d l ramarlAtlntl AAA.'
and colored neckcloth, is a musician, a man
of reading, and the husband of a lovely En
glish woman. He takes his glass with the
air of a Greek drinking hemlock. You will
have a heart-broken wzfe.
What! is that lad of fifteen going to the
bar? He is; and he tosses off his Cogniac
with an air. You will have an early death.
That old man that totters lut of the door
has doubtless Comb hither to drown MI grief!
His last sun has died in prison ; from the ef
fects of a brawl at the theatre. The father
has looked unutterable anguish every sober
moment far two yeare. Wretched old maul
tou Will have the halter of a suicide.
I mat take the rest in mass, for it is Sat
urday night, and the throng increases. The
bar-keeper has an assistant, in the person at
a pale, sorrowful gitl: Two voices now re.
iterated the challenger—What will you
heed What will you have?
Misguided friends, 1 am afraid you will
all have a death=bed without hope.
My man has arrived, I must go; gird to
escape to the purer air; and still the parrot
note resounds in my ears, What will you
haee/ You will hav e , to sum up all—you
will have a terrible j udgmentand an eterni
ty of such retribution as befits your life.
Rana's Doings:
In a central county in the state of New-
York lived a lawyer, of uncommon shrewd
ness, good talents, and an honorable standing
at the bar and in community. With a nu
merous and promising family, his prospect&
were bright, although he was a moderate
drinker, and rather fond of conviviality.
But the destroyer had come, and repeatet
indulgence at length proved his ruin. It is.
needless to mark the steps by which he ar
rived at the end of life's journey; suffice it
to say, he fell into the drunkard's grave.
His example had its legitimate effect. One
son died: an inebriate, on the same spot
where• the sire breathed his last. A son.in
law soon followed the father and brother-in
;, another son, after engaging in busi
ness, became a sot ; lost every thtng valua
ble that he possessed, enlisted in the army,
and'is now, if alive, a degraded being. A.
third son is now seen reeling about the place
.of hie' nativity, or beastly drunk, as often as
he can procure the means of intoxication.
Afotretk son,• after learning a respectable'
trade, and becoming the head of a decent
family, gave himself a' victim to alcohol.
abandoned his wife and children, and is now
a wretch. - The fifth and sixth sons are'
wanderers,if notvagabonds,haiing forsaken
an aged, feeble, and heart-broken mother,
and left her to subsist on the charity of her
friends. Of three sisters' in this family the'
eldest was in mercy "taken from the evil to,
come;" one, from the possession of an tin
subdued and now ungovernable temper, is
embittering the days of her husband and
children; while one only, is cinietly enjoying
domestic comfort, as the wife of an adtur-
Criourmechanie.
Such is the havoc made in Nettles fami.
ly circle, by the felt_ destroyer. The :pie.
cure is not an exaggeration, and the' 00..
nal will be recognized by manylTentE.l(6..