say V. Mlialxi. VOLIIIE XX 1866. POR SUMIHR. 1866. . Hostetter, Reid & Co. WOULD respectfully announce to their' cue. VT tomem and the public generally that they have lust received a new and complete stock of goods in their line, . purchased at the last decline, and which they offer at panic prices. Their stock of . G i n C !EIS, Embrncin: in .art RIO COFFEE, • k t i c 4l/(4 ) s VG AR , ' AV UG (,E 10, 12; wurrii: SUGAR, PULV. DO , BEST SYRUPS, PRIME BAK MOLASSES, MOLASSES @ 50 CENTS, PEA-H., IMP., BL'lt., SUGAR CURED RAMS, CHEESE-MASON'S CRACKERS. Queensware of the newest and meet beautiful patterns, in sets and otherwise. Common ware, good assortment and prices rcasonable. SPICES,Am.—Ground Ginger, Pepper, Alspice, Cloves, Cinnamon, Cayenne 'Tepper, 'Mustard, &c. These are all pure and ground expressly for ourselves. B. Soda. Cr. Tarter, Reuling, Dried Currants, and other Baking articles of best quality Pepper Sauce, Tomato Catsup, Pickets, Cider Vinegar. WOODHN WARg.—Buckets, Tubs, Boxes, FlSH.—Mackerel, all grades, • Shad, P. Herring. From our connection with Market Cam ranniug to the Eastern cities, we receive regularly , VBGETIBLES, FRESH FISH, FRUITS, &c. Everything in this line in their proper season. We will order goods of this class for parties and deliver them at . short- eat notice. Country Produce bought and the highest market price paid Terms positive 7 y Cash. N. B. ' Thankiul for the liberal share of custom we have .received, we trust by fair dealing, and earnest efforts to please and accommodate, to in crease our trade still further. May 181 HOSTETTER, REID & CO. NEW FALL AND ,'/)11.1111 1 Eil 1.0.0'1S 1 GEORGE STOVER HAS 'RETURNED FROM PHILADEL . PELLA WITH A. RIPPLY OF DRY GOODS • 31131 111..11 4111:110 uri: also AND ems zu az? sts * MONS, I'll ite ' 1 ' sir w Golt tite atteotioo of of :hie .patronwend the OW) eeitolly." Octuber 26,1866 . _ and Glassware WAYNESBORO', FRANKLIN COUNTY, PENNSYLVANIA, FRIDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 21,1866. wicrErrxiD.A.ita. THE VOICELESS. We count the broken lyres that rest Where the sweet wailing singers slumber,. But o'er' their silent sister's breast The wild flowers who will stoop to cumber? A few may tow'h the magic string, And noisy fame be proud to win them; Alas for those who never sing, But die with all their music in them. Nay, grieve not for the dead alone . . Whose song has told their heart's sad story. Weep for the voiceless who have known 'nu cross witkont the crown of glory! Not.where l.eucadlan-br' ezes sweep_ 'i7r 4 —..e - Trplio memoi j r-lisunted - pillo • But vvhere•the glistening night dews weep ' O'er le ineit as sorrow's church yard pillow. 0, hearts that break and give no sign • Save whitening lip and fading 'ressesy Till d with pours out his cordial wine, r—Now-rroppett—f,our—misery4--erusiting-pr: If binging bleath or echoing chord To every hidden pang were given, What endless melodies were poured As sad as earth, as sweet as heaven. IT IS NOT TOthOSIBSSYIIL Would you like to know the secrets Of your neighbor's house and life 1 How he lives or how he doesn't, And just how he treats his wife 1 How be spends his time or leisure, Whether sorrowful or gay; And where he goes for pleasure, To the concert or the play •If jos wish it, I will tell you— Let me whisper to-you sly— If your neighbor is but Civil, It is not your business why. In short, instead of prying Into other men's affairs, If you do your own but justice, You will have no time.for theirs. Be attentive to such matters As concerns yourself alone, And whatever fortune flatters, Let your business be your own. One word by way of finis— Let me whisper to you sly— If you wish to be respected, You must cease to be a pry. What One Woman Did At the outbreak of the rebellion, a North ern born woman of firm Union principles liv el in Alabama Her situation was so 4 :, cal that her husband sent her to her friends, promising that he would not take up arms against his country. Doting the whole-four years of the war she was unable to hear from him, until on returning to Alabama she learn ed that he had fallen in the first battle of Bull Bun. She then resolved in her deso lation to devote herself to the welfare of the freedmen by becoming their teacher. The Christian Register tells the story : "Often was she hooted at and even stoned in her walks to and from school, by rude boys or the students of an academy in the ,town, though the sad' veil of her widowhood drawn closely around her might have invited pity instead of insult. The good woman who pro tected and lodged her was p3rsecuted and shunned because the sheltered 'a Yankee schoolmarm.' Insult, danger, complete so dial isolation and hatred, Mrs. could bear unmoved, till they threatened her only white friend, Then she took refuge in a black man's home. Finally an order from President Johnson threatened the removal of the Freedman's Bureau from the town The officer in charge warned Mrs. that her life would not be safe one moment after the alight protection of the Bureau was with drawn. 11 ith a Sad heart she bide her col ored Heads 'good bye,' packed her trunk. and sat waiting one morning for the stage. '1 he dour of her room was auddeuly opened. Loukitig up she recognized Mr. ---, one of the most idluential men in the country He greeted her respectfully, and coming has tily to where she was seated on au o:d box, rum4t iy begged her to stay among them For mouths be had watched her closely, and observed her great influence for. good over the colored people. He Would do all in hie power to protect her from insult;. she shoUld cuutieue her labors henceforth shielded by his authority. A stranger so long to kind ness and sympathy Prow a white man, no wonder silo was overpowered, and tears were her only answer to this uncooked-tor reward of her patient endurance. She stayed.— What a regiment of soldiers could not have accomplished, this one weak woman has dune. Through . weakness was she made strong.— She bad revolutionised public sentiment in the whole county. Unflinching courage and steadfast devotion have won the-,victury." .211 E WARMTH OF 3loorisurse —One very cold night a jolly old follow, who Lad been drinking too freely at a tavern, started for home in s gig, and; on the way: was upset and left by, the side of the road. Bowe per sona posing a abort time after, discovered him holding Dia feet-up: to. time moon, and ejaculating to some Invisible persona. ••Pile on the wood :it's a miserable cold-firer aiWbal Ablesaite_ isbiilley punch *num be au Ihelininan family if there *a'n't elo,to 7 inarrow moralise T . 3 said an old toper, irhe was enjoying bin, euitomary boadnebe after a night's debauch. Izacleizaeamciex*t ria,mily-Miremviespaapar. Nothing but a Nan. In the spring of 1864, I attended the last morning reception of the season, at the White house; taking with me my little daughter, who had an intense deiire to see she good President who had set the poor slaves free. I bad not seen Mr. Lincoln for more than a year, and as I drew near where he stood, going patiently through his weary montonous task of . hand•shaking, I 'rendered if he would remember_rn face amon the countless faces that beset' and besieged him, since the pleasant evening on which I had conversed most freely with him, and heard most of his easy, charming, cordial•talk.— But before I could be presented, he gave me a shock of pleasant surprise by stretching his hand over the shoulder of a gentleman with whom he was conversing, and greeting me by name with the smile and tone of an old friend When he perceived little A—, the pleased look of a true child love came in• to his sad• eyes. •Is this your little daugh ter?' he said 'How do you do dear?' As he took her bane', - the - child — raised - to -his ace, arge. ,rown eyes, full of tender rever me.' The look seemed to touch aim; he smiled a smile that was a benediction, then bent, and kissed her. She blushed, but said nothing till we had passed on a step or two, when she exclaimed, 'Why, he is only a Man, alter all!' Something in the : • I: President and he asked what she had said When I repeated the native remark, his face again lit by that sudden smile of quaint, kind. ly humor so peculiar to him— that flash of soul-sunshine that once seen, caul: never be forgotten. I had not the 'opportunity to tell Mr. Lin coln of a scene in the past • which this little incident brought to my mind. In a noble old New England town, years on , years ago, there was once a great gathering of people, to see no less a personage than the first great Presi dent of the republic, who was to be received and entartained by the noble Governor of the State—The 'Brother Jonathan' of the Revolution. At last he came—the beloved ruler, the hero without stain, the patriot -without-flaw,-the-matchless gentleman, slow ly riding beside the good Governor, between ranks of soldiers and crowds of citizens, bow ing graciously, though somewhat coldly, to the right and left of him. 'Oh, father,' cried a little dark-eyed boy to a : gentleman who held him by the hand, can't see bin:o— lift me up so that I can look over the people's heads.' The kind gentleman lifted him high up in his arms. and the child look ed full in the,face of Washington As be did so his own eager countenance fell, and he exclaimed, 'Why father, he is nothing but a mac, after all!' Washington heard, paused a moment, and, with an amused smile replied' to the child: 'Yea, my lad; nothing but a man.' It seemed to me an odd•coinet.. donee that, at the sight of our second Wash ington, my little daughter had repeated the simple thought and almost the words of her grandfather.—Grace Greenwood. A Lively Encounter. .The Washington correspondent of the Worcester Spy relates the following: Last evening I was witness to a little en counter which will illustrate the spirit of loyal men and the insolence of the reaction aries. The gentlemen, elderly men both were in conversation at a leading hotel.— Both are well known citizens. Both are Northern nay, New England, by birth.— One is a pro-slavery lawyer, 'originally from Connecticut, who a number of years ago, came South and married sonic slaves and a lady. Ever sincele has been intensly pro- Sla very Outside of . this he is a pleasant gentlemen of good culture Two sous of his fought on the rebel side We call him cob). nel. The other is known as the doctor, orig. ioally a minister I believe; he at one time held a high political position in a New Eng land State. He has been an editor here and is now connected with the press. This gen tleman is a large stout man full of fun and good .humor, with great knowledge of men and affairs, thoroughly radical, slow to anger but mighty in his wrath. The colonel was insisting as I came up last evening, upon discussing political topics with the dootor. 'lt's no uso, onlonel,' said the latter, 'you know I can't stand your secession preo!iri , ties. But the colonel continued talking, and the doctor warmed in his replies, till in the midst of a bitter denunciation of the 'Rump Con gress,' the colonel turned with a laugh and ejaculated: 'But, doctor, we shall beat you so bad thia fall that you'll never know what hurt you.' 'Not a bit of it,' was the vioctor's cool re'- ply, 'the Fortieth Congress will be wore rad leaf than this one; 'lt will, eh?' was the anery shout of the old reactionary, its he arose wrathfully to his feet. • 'Theo, by old as I am, I'll take a mu-Act and help drive it out.' 'You will,' said the doctor, raising his big body to his feet, and extended his right arm slowly while his eyes flamed and his voice pealed with the great passion of the moment. 'Yon will, eh? You and yours tried that be fore when we beat you with the ballot'— You forced us to take the: bayonet, and we drove you to the wall. We will beat you a. gain with the ballot, and if you make us take the hayoneot once more by. the God in Heat , - en, this time we'll drive you through' thewall." The old gentlemen's face - was grandio its passion, as he turned away from the startled and subdued lawyer, with.the closing remark. 'ln the last fight I thought I was too old to, go into the artily, but is the one you threat en I'm goingtotake a hand, The old,bTorth Spirit gamed est; It was typical. I . sow the low enduring, Northerner represented here - Vt . oe betide those:Who shall again net the enireete or that blood -rnaclog to the wild musie of war? •. %The mi4:he . t.e.t. ti b; yrt . dio without oil. OM HUNDRED THIRD TO'CONE. Who'll press for gold this crowded street, A bundred:years to come 1 Who'll tread your church yard with willing feet, A hundred years to come? Pale, trembling age. and fiery youth,. And childhood with his brow of truth; The rich and poor, on landand.sea; • . Where will the mighty millions be dred-years-to come? We all within our graves shalluleep A hundred years to come; No tivinig soul for us shall weep • A hundred years to come; But other men our land shall till, And others then our streets will fill, And other birds will sing"as gay, And bright the sunshine as to-day, A hundred years to come. A jersey Anecdote. A good many - years ago, a man- stole a cow from Morristown,N. J. and drove her to Ph;ladelphia for sae She wean common cow enough, except -that she had lost her tail but about six inches. The thief, fear ; . ing by the shortness of her tail he might be traced, had procured in some way, probably _trom_a_slaughter-house, 'another cow's tail, which he fastened so ingeniously to the short tail that it was not to be known that it had not regularly grown there. As soon as the Joiseyman had missed his cow, he set off for Philadelphia, thinking she would probably be carried there for sale,_ and it happened that when be came to the ferry he got into the same boat that was convey ing over his cow and the fellow that stole her. As it was natural that he should have his thoughts very much upon cows, he be gan to look at this one with great attention. She was indeed very much like.hie cow, be thought. Her marks agreed wonderfully and she had exactly the same expression - of face, but then the expression of her tail was so very different. It must be supposed that -the new owner of the oow fell lather uncom fortable during the examination, for ho soon saw that this was the person wh ose property he bad stolen, and he was very uneasy lest he should take hold of the tail which he look. ed at so continually. Upon the whole he thought it best to direct his attention io Some way, if possible, and therefore steps •up to him nod says: "Neighbor, this is a fine cow of mine"; won't you buy her? You seem to know what a good cow is." "Oh.? dear me," says the other. "I've just had a cow stolen from me." `Well' says tho thief "I'm sorry to hear that they've got to stealing cattle, but I'll , sell off, hod you could not better replace your loss than by buying this cow; I will 'squint she's as good as your'a. 'Why,' says the Jerseyman, 'she was ex actly like this one, only that she bad no tail to speak of, and if this one had not such a long tail, I'd swear it was my cow.' • Everybody now began to look at the cow's tail, but the thief stood nearer to it than anybody, and taking hold of it so as just to cover the splicing with his left band, and with a jack-knife in his right hand, point ing to the tail, he said : 'So if' that cow's tail were only so long, you'd swear she was your's ?' 'That I would,' said the other, who began to be very much confined at the perfect re semblance to his cow except in this one par ticulat, when the thief, with a sudden cut of his knife, he took off the tail just about an inch above splicing, and throwing it over board, bloody as it was, turned to the other and said ; 'Now swear it's your cow I' The bewilderment of the poor man was now complete, as he had seen the tail cut off, and saw the bleed trick,ing from it, be could of course lay no claim to the animal from the shortness of her tail, indeed, hem was proof positive that this was not his cow, so the thief goinc , b over with him sold the cow without any further fear of detection. Mysterious Impressions. The following curious /dory is told in coo. nection with the death of Lord Francis Dou glas, who was recently lost in ascending the Alps. It belongs to a class of facts ich are difficult of explanation by our common philosophy : During tle halt which took place, one of , the guides, says an account, stated that be was trightened. Whet really passed, was, that the guide to whom Lord Francis was at tached, said, "Gentlemen, thereis great rea. SOO to fear that we shall not be able to ef fect our descent without an accident; rhere fore, let each of us think sheet his sool." Then Mr. Hudson took oat his Bible and read. Lord Francia went apart from the others and remained in silence and medita tion for a whole hour. On the same day the- Illarchionese.of Queeosbury was in het gar den in the Isle of Wight. She was working and praying, according to her usual custom. All at once experi— enced a sudden revulsion of the heart; she thought, she felt that her son was inlanger, and she uttered a ferveit prayer , to his Hea venly Father to protect him. For three days the impression remained on her mind ,that Lord Francis was dying offamine. The same day a domestic bad' a vision in which she saw the young man covered with wounds and in the last stage , of inanimation. It ins re markable that while the remains of the oth er travelers were found, nothing• of Lord Francis could be recovered eteept , his boots, which-were unlaced, ,as if he bad thrown these amnia precriptca. . What, was the fate of the'youne man r • Could ho hive Wisp downer crevosse, Uteri have 'perished -of Matfett .t. • - - • t Lucy Cup - pa, lII', re cently gavu to,three fi - q4; looking wale harios flt: Ouppa with a telkeuiet.ce. The English Lower Classes at Liv erpool. ' . There have been of late some frightful revelations of the moral degeneracy of the "lower order" in England, but a pietiire more appalling than that: presented to us of the state of things in Liverpoelis hardly pos. Bible to conceive. An . inquiry' Wis short time back instituted by theloive Council in- to the cause of the extensive mortality in that town, and 'the report of the Commis.sioners draws a picture at which humanity n — Tarilftidder. The ,follo wing extract, frbm a London paper, will give some idea of the •"Slough of Despond" into which that,cele brated emporium has been converted: ' For four years has an epidemic of tpyhtis raged with increasing virulence among the working population of Liverpool. Let chol era once take hold of these masses of fallen, humanity, and it can scarcely be expected to leave them until it has elided the life blood from thousands. Children go drtitik to school —ragged schools, of course. Women, for love of drink, sell every stitch they wear, sa• ving just the last shred of linen, and then= heaven help the wretches—they Sell their hair! This is the evidence of the Rev. Fath er Nugent, who speaks of one woman, the mother of seven. children, who sold'her hair to a barber for a pot of ale. Women have been "had up" for drunkenness eleven times and more. In one court the Bremen were discovered "all drunk" one Sandy afternoon. The children club their pence together on Saturday night to• have a Spree and get glo riously inebriated like their seniors. The master of the Hibernian School says: "You might as well attempt to empty Mersey with a bucket as to apply Christian instruction while this flood of intemperance• is over whelming us." Chaos has come over the people. These seems to be neither law, or der nor decency among them. "Children die which are never born," says Father Nu• gent. Rents go unpaid, for the landlords -fear-to be_ pressin et, _lest_L is tenants should "pull the house down!" "I have four haus o Henderson street, says an • agent, And the e is not a piece of timber left in them They (the occupiers) will tuke.away the cup boards, the staircases aid the very Slats off the roof, end we cannot catch them."- , -We just quote olio. more horror. A tradesman and his wife ruined themselves by drink.— The woman fell tll and lay in indescribable filth on her sick bed for months. Ou a Sat- urday she died and remained untouched till Thursday. The husband, that ,day obtained 10s, to secure the necessary attendance, but instead of'devotiog the money to its proper purposes, went and got drunk with it. 'He went home in that state, and slept, with the corpse. au Friday chase persons scot a hearse to take away the body, bet when the men saw no' poison to go with the funeral they took her out and throw her down in the rocas again, where she lay till the notice had her buried on the following; Satqrday " As a sequel we are told, "an old woman, who. lived underneath wag so much shocked that she died the same night." Such is the ao• count that Liverpool gives of itself. And all this under that aristoeratio rule of which the "upper classes" of English so . ciety are wont to boast so loudly, and of whose excellencies they are so prone to vaunt as presenting a marked contrast to the vices of democratic government. • Much in Little Little martio•boxes of homes aro general ly the most happy and•cosey; little villages are nearer to being atoms of a shattered par- Aloe than anything we know ,of; and little fortunes bring the 'most content, and little hopes th e least disappointments. Little words are the sweetest. to hoar; little chari ties fly farthest and stay longest on the wing; little lakes are the stillest, little hearts the fullest, and little farms the beat tilled. Lit tle books are the most read, and little songs the most loved. And when Nature would make anything especially rare beautiful, she makes it little—like pearls, like diamonds, like dews. Everybody calls that' little that they love beat on earth. We once 'heard a good port of a man speak of his little wife, and we fancied that she must be a perfect little bijou of a wife. We saw her, and she weighed 210; we worn surprised. But then it was uo joke; the man meant it. lie could put his wife in his heart and have .roiam ' for other things beside, and what was she but precious, and what Was she but little? Mul tum in parvo—muoh in little—is the great beauty of all that we love best, hope for most, and remember the longest. • . A tall, raw boned Yankee was riding a di minutive specimen of the donkey tribe through the muddy streets of Gotham, and the animal being' very stubborn, Jonathan found it quite difficult to induce him to se oelerate his pace. —4le-used-the-persuasive-eloqueuce - of ---- hickory stick, .however, and at eacib,blow be would drawl out, "Git up, Bonypsrte; git up, I say I" A little Frenchman in passing, beard with rage the name of his illustrious ountryman applied to the, ugly beast, and oommeoced heaping a volley of,abuse on the head of the offending 'Yankee. . "Sair," • shoUted the Gaul, ,"vot for • fen sail call Ast ugly beast Napoleon ? By "gar, eair, I still have se grand satisfaction “Gitup,.Boayparte t" .was . the Duly re; sponse. " ' "Sam I monsieur, sal!? •I ~'say' *bat for you saffeall sat vitgabone horsiNapoleon "Git up, itoiryparte l" nen, the Frenchman's - rage boiled' over, Ana stamping 'hie foot Upon the tat silent; be screamed .: • - "Ob, - by.gar, have ‘•!frgrausi 'aegis , reall beiti:ss rive*. • Ilheveolte 'date lectle sheep dog at M 7110114 I go - Osll him I:1011211w Washingtoo; 4'100 4 ' ' Tell , envy, - when she would-annoy,- • That thunsands want what y'on enjoy, 11112.00 Per Tea r .. i ' NUMBER 25 The Discontented Girls. Mary Miller Went out to take' a walk in the fields, one Saturday afternoon. She had been at school all. the ,week, and she was very glad to have a Dice ramble. She soon left .the davty.roed, and roamed about on the hills. Sometimes she watched the brook, and listened to-the singing of the birds.— Then she watched the gay butterfly, or ran to pluck some bright flower which met her eye In a word, wherever her light heart rom'pted her to go, her nimble feet'earried tier. She was near the roadside ! Awn she saw a fine coach pass slowly by. There was -in it a little girl about Mary'd — age — W-he , the young lady wished to stop, the dri 'ter checked the horses; and when she wish ed to go forward, they started at his word. A footman was on the stand behind. If the gill saw a flower in the field, or by the road side, she had °Lily to speik, and the carriage stopped.. while the footman ran to Fetch It. Indeed, she seemed to have no wish ungratified. As Mary looked at the coach, her feet lost their lightness, her spirits their gaiety, and .her face its smiles. She Walked gloomily a long, and, with pouting lips, she entered her mother's humble dwelling 'Have you bad a pleasant walk, Mary" asked her mother. 1 0'3, no,' said 'Nary, pettishly, should have enjoyed it very well, but the young la dy came along in her carriage; and when I saw how happy she appeared with her coach man, and her footman to wait upon her, and remembered that .twas a poor girl, and must Simla go afoot, and wait nOtin myself, • I could'hardlY help crying If she wanted anything she had only to speak or to point to it, and the footman instantly ran and brought it to her. -- But-when_Leaw some thing I wanted, if it was ever so far off, I must go and get it myself.' 'Her fretful vote° wag scarcely bushed, when Mrs. Parks called at the cottage. glow did your daughter enjoy her ride this afteronon ?' Said Mrs. Miller to her rich friend. Hero' it.should be old that Hokin wasiame,±Bhe_had—not- walked for three years. 'She would have enjoyed it very well,' said the lady, 'but just as she came to where she had the finest prospect, she saw your lit. tie girl skipping'about the fields. She watch ed her happy movements,. Mb he ran where ever-her fancy led; and when she remember ed that.abo could never erjoy herself, .thus, said she could scarcely k e ep from cry ing. 'You cannot think, she said, 'how add it is to feel that I must be lified into Iho carriage whenever. I wish to take the. nit; and when I see a pretty flower, I eau never pick it myself, but must wait till some 'one can go and : fetch it to me. I watched' the happy girl for a few minutes, as she danced so gaily among the flowers, and then order ed the footman to bring me a few daisies which grew by the wayside; but I soon threw them away, for I could not boar to look at them. "l thou directed the coachman to drive home, that her feelings might no lon ger be tried by the sight i-f pleasure which -she could not share When the footman brought her in, and placed' her carefully upon a sofa, she laid her face on my lap, and wept.' Thus we see that each of these girls had enough to make her happy, if she had only learned one of the best lessons—to be con tented with the station in which God his placed tie. Week of Prayer For 1867. The British Evangelical Alliance, in arg. cordance with the custom which has • been observed for several years past s have again Witted a circular, recommending the univer sal observance of a week of special and unit ed prayer, at the commencement of the new year. The following is the schedule of4he time and topics for the exemises of the week: Sabbath, January 6—Sermons on the Presence of Christ with II i a Uoivorsal Church. . Monday, January 7—Thanksgiving and Confession of Sin. Tuesday, January B—Prayer for Nations; for '•kings and all in authority. n for the"-in crease of righteousness, the prevalence of peace, and the holy observance of the Sab bath, Wednesday, January 9—Prayer for the success of missions among the Jews and Gen tiles, and for a Divine blessing to accompany the efforts to evangelize the unconverted of all• lands and classes. Thursday, January 10—Prayer for all who have suffered from die recent wars; for our brethern'emancipated from slavery, and for our fellow Christians persecuted for the gospel's sake. Friday, Januar amities, fur, schools, e-Aleges end universi ties. Saturday, January 12—Prayer for the Catholic Church (the univemal Christian Churob,)for all the ministers of the gospel, and for the increase of holiness, fidelity,-and Christian .character among its members. Sabbath, January .13—Sermons .on the unity of the Church and the duty of be lievers to manifest it by mutual recognition tnd 'actite operation. Tat,' said a - buildoi- to an Irishman enga ged in earrying.slate to the top of a fonr ; story'building, 'have yon any houses in Ire land as tali as this epee, 'Yo'ss, me mither's 'flow many rooms bad it" • ghee was - -the . atilt& route, the 81414 ; room, and the .pig ren-rfour rooms.' othat's a Story. said the Wider. 43: - ..!04 four e ories 7- itlys Pat. . The )larvNiukt t.fion . ''. 4.4 Ir . eoefesi be. f juu. . re9on . greas the r.t!iditx of the Lae 0, 1 44., `
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers