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T H E ORTH AND SOUTH t t i u t I f i i r i B VOLUME I I . NEW i n i l T A I N , CONNECTICUT, T H E QVnb Ncm Drilitin lonrnal, R I . i n i T B V R R f T T E « i l t « r, • i . m . (.iVRBIVflBV P r « p r l e l * r> WILL ns issnicn GVRRY SATURDAT, Priim tha frlntiiig OiUne of th« I'loprletor, ia thi nasomsnt ot ths Daptlft Ohatoh, Niw BKITAIR, OOHN. TKRMS:—$1.50 por nnnum, In Ai^vance. In bundles of five or more to one tiddnus, 31.25. Mom'tari of Normil dnhool, lubioriblng In ailmneo for tbe Tarm, furnlRheJ at the nnnuiil lute, Tkihi OP AnriRTisixo : — For n Pquum, on* InMrtton, T6 rent*, xao;] n t liildial Tii-iwrttnn. 2) et» Fur half « 8ti3sr«, oo« in.iHnion, SO r-aoin ; ench ntl'litiunMl InaeriloB. 16 eta. OiieSamtrtffarayanr.JiIO. lUlfSqiiara CS. BaaineM Card*, oouialotaK hit f fqiiare, per year, tfi.OO. (g^jcniiig J'irtsiie. Maist Onie Day. Ye ken dciir bairn, that we maun part. When death, oauld death, shall bid us start, But when he'll send Lis dreadful dart, We oanna say, 8ae we'll he ready for his cart Maist onie day. Ye ken there's Ane wha's just and wise, lie said that a' his bairns shall rise. An' soar aboon the lotty skies, An' there shall stny. Bein, weel preparcl, we'll gain the prixe, Maist uuie day. When He wha made a' t h i n ^ just right. Shall oa* us hence to realms of li};ht, B^it morn, or noon, or e'en or night; We will obey; We'll be pr»?paretl to tak' our flight iVlaist onie day. Our lamp? we'll fill brim fu' of oil That's gudc, mid pure, and wunna spoil— We'll keep them burnin, a' the while, To light our way. Our wark bom' dune, we'll quit the soil Alaist onie day. Terso but mntter nnd motion ; and having pointed out, perhaps more Bucoessfully thfto others, its constitution and laws, still r c F u ^ to aoknowled^ an intelligent Agent, who made and governs it. Alas! that, in this enlightened ago, there should be any to whom the severe but well-founded re-mark of sn inspired writer, oonoemins the aagot of antiquity, may be with too much justice ap-ilied : ProfiB3?ing themselves tq bo \»ise, they >ccrtmo foo'o."—Dr. Dick. Another Hand is Bcckouing Us. BT J. a. WNITTIER. Another hand is lieckoning us. Another call is civoul TU path that IcaJa to •it- • (), half we deemed she needed not The cliangiiig of her sphere, To give to lica^en a shining one, Who walked an at;gcl here. Unto our Father's will alone One thought has reconciled; Thut He, whose love o.xceedcth ours, lluth taken bume His child. Fold hrr, 0 Father, in thine arms. And let her henceforth bo A messenger of love between Our human hearts aud thi'«. Still let her mild rebuking ^tand Between us and the wrung. And her dear memory serve to make Our faith iii goodness strong. The Adornments of Piety. Considur the coniitiendalions be^stowed on these uccuiupiiebinuuts by .the apostle. These dccora-tiuiis urc not uurruptiblc. All other ornanieuts )icrihh iu thu using. All other uttiro gives place to the bhroud. licauiy cousumes away like a moth, the sparldlnj» c}e is closed in darUnpss, the bitdy IS laid in the grave, and death shall fetid up-uu It. 'J'he uharnier, loukiiig in vain for adiiii-ii- rs, siiyd to coriuptiuii, " Thou art my father, iiiid to tiie worm, tliou art my mother auJ sitter." Prolong life, aceidentd may distigure and diseases corrode, ilow quickly time changes the counte-nance ! Uuw trau:<icut the empire of colors and lints! How soon wrinkles and gaudy attiro dis-agree! Having laid .n no stock of mental influ-enuc and sober eniertuinment against the evil day, what becomes of (lieie delightful creatures? A levv years reduucs them to iusignificiucr, leaving them only the humiliating claims of pity, or the uncertain returns of gratitude, liut an accom-plished, piuus woman can never be the object nf uegleut; she attrauta uotiue, and eooters happi-ness even when desuending into the valu of yearu. The ravages ol time oannut reach th j soul; diiatli cannot btrip oiT the habiuof immortality, it will only change her from glory tu glory; only re-move h»'.r from earth, unworthy of her uounte-nance, and place her in the eumpauy of the angels of God. Adorn yinjrselves then, my young friends, " not with broidere*! huir, or gold, or pearls, or costly array," but, as becometh those who profoss godhne»s, with ** good works," ovun the ornament ut " a meek and ([uict spirit," which is iu tbe bight of God of gieut price.—Jay. - * • • • Philosophy and Beligion. fjet Philo«ophy be the handmaid of Religion. There is not a star in the heavens, not u flower in the tields, which does not declare the glory of Gwl. To look upon naturo, therefore, without any ret'eience to iti Author, to admire thtt work withuut adntiri.'ig the workman, is folly, is stupid-ity, is atheism. How oold in the heart, aud how dull the undorstunding of the man who, uontem-plating the magnitioent spectacle of the heavens, tceU no pious emotions arising in his brea*t, and n completely alworbod in hia spooulatioua of Htioncu. He is not tu be envied, ullhou^ the wice of fame should pronounco him (o bo the first o^ philo»oi)hers, who bees nothing in the uiii* SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 1859. MR. BROWN'S MISHAPS. Mr. Eliphalot Brown was a bachelor of thirty-five or thereabouts; one of those men who secm to be born to pars through the world alone. Save this peculiarity, there was nothing to distinguish Mr. Brown from the multitude of other Browns who are born, grow up aud die in this world of ours. It chanced that Mr. Brown had occasion to visit a to\vn some fifty miles distant, on matters of business. It wna his first visit to the place, nnd he pioposcd stopping for a day, in order to giv<.' himself an opportunity to look about. Walking leisurely along the street, he was all at once nccostod by a child of five, who ran up to him oxolaimirig : " Father, I want you to buy mo some more candy." Father!" was it possible that he, a bachelor, was addressed by t h i t title ? He conid not be-lieve it "Who were you speaking to, my dear?" he inquired of the little girl. 1 spoke to you, father," said the little one, surprised. Keally, thought Mr. Brown, this is embarrass-ing. I am not your father, my dear,'' he said, what is your name ?" The child laughed heartily, evidently thinking it a good joke. What a funny father you are," she said ; "but you are going to huynie some candy?" " Yes, yes; I'll buy you a pound if you won't call me father any more," said Brown, nervously. Tnc little girl clapped her hands with delight. The promise was all she remembered. Mr. Brown proceeded to a confectionery store, and actually bought a pound of candy, which he placed in the hands of the little girl. In coming out of tho store they onoountei^ nst see how much candy 'father has bought for me." You shouldn't have bought her so much at a time, Mr. Jones," said the lady, " I'm afraid she'll make hei-self sick. But how did you hap-pen to get home so soon ? I did not expect you till night." •'Jones—I—madame," said tho embarmssed Mr. J^rown, " it's all a mistake—I aint Junes at all. It isn't my name. I am Eliphalet Brown, of W— and this is the first time I ever came to this city." " Good heavens ! Mr. Jonee, what has put this silly talc into your head 7 You have concluded to change your name, have you ? perhaps it'a yonr intention to ch inge your wife." Mrs. Jones' tone was now defiant, and this tended to increase Mr. Brown's embarrassment " I haven't any wife, madame; i never had any. On my word as u gentleman, 1 never was married " " Aud do you intend to palm this talooff upon me?" said Mrs. Jones with cx'-item-nt. It'yvu. are not married I'd like to know who 1 am ?" " I have no doubt you are a most respectable lady," said Mr. Brown, -'and I conjecture from what you have said, that your name is Jonos ; my name is Bruwn, madame, and always was." Melindu," said her mother, suddenly taking her child by the arm, and leading her up to Mr. Brown, " Melindu, who is this gentleman?" Why, that's father." was the child's imme-diate reply, as she plaec>d her hand oonlidingly in hi s. " You hear that, Mr. Jones, do you ? You hear what the innocent child sJVyj, and yet you have the unblushing impudenoe to deny that you are my husband ! Tue voice rf nature speaking through the child, should overwhelm yuu. I'd like tu know if yuu are not her father, why you are buying candy for tier ? I would like to have yi»u and»vur that. But I presume you never saw liur bufurc in yuur life." I never tJid. 0.» my honor I novor did. I told her I would give her the candy if she wuuidu't cull ino father any mure." " ifuu dul, did yuu ! Bribed pour child not to call you father? Oh, Mr. Junes, that is inla-mous! Do you intend to desert mo, sir, aud leave me to t le culd cliarilies of the world ? And is this your first stop ?" Mrs. Jones was su overcome that, without any warning, sho fell back upou the sidewalk in a fainting tit. Instautly a number of persons rau to her oa-bistance. Is your wife subject to fainting in this way ?" asked the first comer of Browu. " I don't know," said Urowu. She isn't my wife. I don't know auytliiug about her." " N^^'yi it's Mrs. Jones, ain't it ?" •• Y ^ ' but I'm uot Mr. Jonoa." Sir," said tha first s|>caker sternly, this is no time to joat. I triut tliat you are uot the cause of tbe exeitameot which niuat have ocoa-sioued yuur wilb'i IWinting fit. You bad better call a euach and carry her home d rcvtly." Poor Browu was dumbfouudod. 1 wonder, thought he, whether it's poasiblo that I'm Mr. Jones, without kuowing it. 'Per- And yet I don't think Pm Jones. In spite of all, I will insist that my name is Brown. " Well, sir, what are you waiting for? It i> necessary that your wife shotild bo removed at once. Will you order a carnage?" Brown saw that there was no use to prolong the discussion by a denial. Re therefore, without contesting the point, onJercd a hackney coach to the spot. • Mr. Brown accordingly lent an arm to Mrs. Jones, who had somewhat yoovere^ and was about to close tho door uppn^^r.' •• Why, are you not going yourself?" «' Why, no, why should I ?" " Your wife should not go alone, sho has hard-ly recovered." Brown gave a despairing glance at tho crowd around him, and deeming it useless to make op-position where so many seemed thoroughly eon-viooed that he was Mr. Jones, followed the lady in. " Where shall I drive ?" said tho whip. •• I—I—I—don't know,"' said Mr. Brown— «• Where would you wish to be carried ?"' " Home, of course," murmured Mrs. Jones.* " I do not know," said Brown. «• No. 19 H street^'said the gentleman already introduced, glancing contemptuously at Brown. Will you help me out, Mr. Jones?" said the lady. " I am not fully recorered from tho taint-ing fit into which your cruelty drove mo." •• Are you quite sure that I am Mr. Jcnes ?" asked Brown with anxiety* » " Of course," said Mrs. Jones. " Then," said he resignedly, I suppose I am. But if yon will believe me, I was firmly convinced this morning that my name was Brown, and to tell the truth I haven't any recollection of this house." Brown helped Mrs. Jones >into tho parlor, but good heavens, conceive the astonishment of all, when a man was discovered seated in an arm chair, who was the very fac-simile of Mr. Brown in form, feature, and «vcry other respect! " Gracious!" exclaimed the lady, " which— which is my husband ?" An explanation was given, the myst«ry cleared up, and Mr. Brown's pardon sought, for the em-barrassing mistake. It was freely accordod by. Mr. Brown, who was quite delifbtM to think that • i i i f t . w i f t i ni Tld to boot. " k o w u i e f c i M s w i Mr. Brown has not since visited the place where this Comedy of Errors " happened. He is afraid of losing his identity. MR. B.IRNUM AS A LBCTDHER.—The London Tt/nes says that Mr. B.irnum's fir.»t lecture on " Money making," at St. James Hull, London, was an " apotheosis of notoriety," and speaks of it as follows: " If Mr. Barnum has got nothing else by the admiring throng who pushed, and listened, and cheered yesterday evening, he has at least got a new chaptcr for a second edition of his autobiog-raphy. Having already related how ho drew to-gether a mob of Yankees to see a few tame bulls, bo can now desorilte the eagerness of John Bull to tee the most enterprising of Yankees. Wheth-er a huge multitude applauding an orator for a deliberate panegyric o f h u m b u g " may be con-sidered as a sign of tho hi^h moral state of a nation, is a |)oiut that we will not hero discuss. But we are bound to admit that Mr. Barnum is one of tho most f^ntcrtuining lecturers that ever addressed an audicnce on a thome universally in-telligible. Cicero's great work, De OJiciis, i3 not more systematically drawn up than Mr. Barnuni's discourse on the particularly profitable virtue to which he has given his attention, and thus the fun attached to a scries of successful impositions is heightened by their envelopment in a grave ethical essa}'. The appearanee of Mr. Barnum, it should be added, has nothing of the " charla-tan " about it, but is that of the thoroughly re-spectable man ot business; and he has at com-mand a fund of dry humor that convulses every-body with laughter, while he himself remains perfectly serious. A sonorous voice and an ad-mirably clear delivery complete his qualifications as u lecturer, in which ca[jn<|ty he is no " hum-bug," either in the higher or^he lower' sense of the word.'- haps Pm really Junes uud have gone crasy, iu uoiistiqueuoe ol which I l' auoy iny name ia Bruwu GOING TO EUKOI'K IM A BAM.OO.'».—Mr. John La Mountain, mronuut, is again in this city, whore he will ri'inuin a few days. He has made ar-rangements for the construction in* Boston of a balloon with which he designs to make an attempt to cross the Atlantic next summer. The money ia to be furnished by a wealthy gentleman of the modern Athens, who ha^i suffioiont coiifidonoo in tho practicability of the scheme to mako a ven-ture in it. Tho balloon is to be of silk, with an asoensive power which will make it capable of carrying a life-boat stocko<l with provisions and four passengers. Tho power it is designed to em-ploy ia the gun-cotton engino-r-one of which, own-ed by a pntleman of tSpfiugtield, Muss., bus been tested, and found to operate satisfactorily. Before the venture at sailing over the ocean, it is designed to mako three long voyages, starting froui weatom uitiea, for the purpose of t«^ug the oapuoity of the balloon and the effect of the em-plovment of machinery. Mr. Wise, the " father of ballooning in America," who has been in con-sultation with Mr. La Muuntain, approves of his plttu in all i u details, and will give him tho bene-fit of hia remarkable exp«rieuco in suggestions as to tbe manner of carrying it oul.—VVoy Ti/nei, Jan, 14lh. HISTOBY OP NEW BRITAIN And the Farmlngton Family of Towni. As wo have already noticed, some of the first settlers of Connecticut were determined to emi-grate thither, with or without the permisssion of the General Court of Massachusetts. While Hooker was pleading before that body, with all his fnrtid aloquenoe, for ita oonaent to the peri-lous enterprise,^ it appears that a 'nombar'^of Ml-; - •Phillips' eongregotion, at Watertown were already on tho journey ; and larger companies s^ill, from Dorchester and Newtown, were preparing to fol-low at ail hazards. These faots, undoubtedly, convitic^ the Massachusetts people, that it was unwiae and impracticablo to prevent the move-ment ; and they finally acquiesced on the condi-tion that the Connecticut colonists should forever remain subject to the jarisdiction of the old com-moDwealth. When this reluctant consent had been obtained from the General Court, not a week appears to have been lost in commencing extensive prepara-tions for removing to Connecticut. A company of Mr. Warham's congregation, at Dorchcster, went out as pioneers to mako arrangements for a permanent settlemont. It would be interesting to know tbe names of these pioneers, but we doubt whether they can be found in any printed or man-uscript rcoord. This, it will be remembered, was the first emigration from the seaboard, that broke up that continuity of settlement which soemed absolutely neoeasary for self-preservation. It was the first time that a colony colonized a largo portion of its popalat(on, to constitute the g e^ of an independenb State. There is no wonder that the movement, under such circumstances, was energetically opposed. At the time when the emigration commenced, there was hardly a hamlet in all the region of New England twenty miles from the seaboard. It is doubtful if twen-ty miles of wclUbeaton wagon road wore opened in the whole of Maasaohusetts; and many per-sona, not given to doabt or fear, when they saw tho iku|i, 'lkl<hiiiu»-witier6«w upUi'the ei<iT» ^ grants, regarded them as doomed victims of a reckless adventure. And at first, their worst ap-prehensions seemed likely to bo realized; for a most remarkable series and complication of haz-ards, hardships and adverse events beset and sur-rounded the undertaking. The pioneer bands, having completed their preparations for settle-ment returned to Massschusetts, to remove their families and property. Although the winter months were near a t hand, and they could not have grown any crops for sustenance for man or Iteast on tho Connecticut, they were determined to mako the venture without delay. So, on the 15th of October, 1635, a company of sixty men, women and children set forth upon the long and hazardous journey through the wide and pathless wildernessa. There was no carriage, cart or sled for transportotion in that emigrant train; for no such vohicle could be drawn through tho woods. If the women or children rode at all, they were placed upon tho few horses of the company, al-ready loaded heavily with their household cffects. But what added t« tho difficulty and delay of their progress, they drove before them their cattle, sheep and even twirie. Gold was not in their dreams. They were a band of farmers going forth to the rooenlly-explored region to till its soil and sustain their families by steady agricultural industry. No one can reasonably wonder that, before they reached and crossed the Connecticut Kiver with their flocks and herds, winter was up-on them; a winter for which thoy were poorly prepared. Disaster after disaster followed in quick suceession. Nearly all their provisions and heavy articles nf furniture had been sent around in little vessels from Boston. These en-countered fearflil storms, in which most of them wore shipwrecked, and the rest delayed. Tsvo were lost with evory man on board. Tho earliest aud soverest winter probably on the record of New England history, set in upon them. By the 15th of November, tho Connecticut was fro-zon, and the snow so deep, and the weather so tempestuous, that a oonsiderablo number of the cattle driven from Massachusetts could not be brought across the river. The people had but a little while for erecting shods for tboso they woro able to drivo or rati across, or even for construct-ing huts for themselves. Indeed, it is marvellous how any ot their stock survive! this ordeal of famine; fur it is difficult io concoive how any species of fodder could have been found for thum except tho leafless twigs of the furest half buried iu snow. The scanty provisions which they brought with them, or had been able to procure by hunt-ing, gradually waate<l away, and by the first of December, wan and haggard faminaoameto their habitations, with all ita train of sufferings and NUMBER lo. foiebodings. Th« rirerVwi frown ' to its men'" and all hope of relief fVom the vessels contain!) thetr stores fVoie like ice in their hearts. H w they prayed and watched, in their oold and chetr less cabins, for south winds to melt with th( 'warm breath the frosty fetters of the gtrem. how children pined for bread promised them • the morrow; how the fiuting, watching nnd wiis Inff'bowed tllJ^ btl^Mt spirits of the band, latfe thellr t^mible with emotion whi speaking words of faith and comfort to thewcul. er-minded—all these painfbl experiences and » - pects of wretchedness could not be recorded ii written language. Probably foreseeing the terrible privations o! the approaching winter, six of the company en sayed to return to Boston in a vessel which sailed from the river early in November. But the ele-ments seemed to change the front of the obsta-clcs they opposed to the settlement, and now threatened to cut ofiF retreat from the enterprizo. Tho vessel was cast away almost at the outset of the voyage, and the returning emigrants barely escaped to the shore with their lives. For ten days they wadod through the snow, without meet-ing a single human being until they reached Plym-outh, almost frozen and famished, as tho avant ccmrriers of distressing intelligence from the Con-necticut colony. The main body bravely held their ground until the last hopo of the arrival of their provisions was extinguished. Then, in the dead of winter, seventy men, women at^d children journeyed to tho mouth of the river for the food which they fain believed was awaiting them th6re. But most of the vessels which they had loaded and expected, were at the bottom of the sea, or beating in broken fragments ngainst its rocky shores. One small sloop, not of the number they had chartered, was lying in the river, and they all went on board of thi« for Boston. But this ran upon the bar, and the people wore obliged to un-lade her to get her over. She was then reloaded, and, without any more mishaps, reached the port tf ^ e r deati^tion. The arrival iu mid win^r of tMBO impoveri^^Tu^tiVes f r b t o ^ and'tluT painful story of their sufferings, produced an im-pression upon the people of Massachusetts which may be easily conceived. Their most gloomy apprehensions were realized in every aspect but one. The Connecticut colonists had confronted the elements and succumbed to their furious com-bination, but they had not been cut off by the savage Indians. Thus there was a beam of mer-cy running bright through the dark cluud of judg-ment which had siemed to lower upon the entcr-prizo. ^ Such was the result of tho first attempt to plant a permanent agricultural settlement on the Connecticut. TERRIBLE SUFFERINQ AT SEA.—TLIO Boston papers publish a statement of Wm. Kennedy, tin; sailor who was rescued from the house of tin ship Margaret Tyson, which vessel was lost re-cently. The Courier says: " He says the ship was capsized in a gale on Saturday night, he does not know what datt.', aii'l sunk on Sunday morning, the captain and alt the crew, save himself and four others, going dou ». with her. Tho five succeeded in getting on llio ship's house, where ono after another died, eitnor from fatigue, from famine, or from thirst. The last man died two days before KeniKMly wiis picked up. Kennedy says thoy woro on tlai ship's houso seventeen days, bocause tho men who perished last said they had passed three Sun<lay.-< there, and it was four days after this that ho was rescued from hia awful position by the schooner Oread. He describes his sufferings as inten.s(;. being so exhausted from hunger and thirst a.s to be unable, at tho last, to chew a piece of flesli cut from the thigh of his last comrade after his death. Tho only food he had during this period was five small fishes, which he caught with his hands, and what ruin he could got in tho sumo manner. When ho arrived at Fayal he was a liv-ing skeleton, tho fleshy part of his leg being nu larger than a man's wrist. Ho has now nearly recovered from the effects of his sufferings, it having been over two months since his rescue. He is an Irishman, 23 years of ago, 5 feet 4 inchcs in hight, of compact figure, and will weigh now about 1U5 pounds. He has rod hair, and his whole appearanco indicates a person calcula-ted to endure a great deal; nevertheless his en-durance for so long a time, if his account is eoi-- rect, must be owing to the mild regions of tho calms of Cancer." THBWHAUNU BUSINKSS.—The New Bedford Mercury says that one ut the most reliable iner-rhaiits of that city estimates that the Heel ot whale ships to arrive tho present year will result in a loss tu their owners of a sum varying but little frum une million of dollars. This enoriuuus loss is attributed to various causes—the ill suc-cess of the fleet, the full in the prices of oil, the extravagance of fitting, and the bud niaiiageuieut of niasturs in tho rvHttiiig of ships, principully at the Sandwich lalanda.
|Title||North and South, and New Britain journal, 1859-02-12|
|Subject||Antislavery movements -- United States -- Newspapers; New Britain (Conn.) -- Newspapers|
|Description||Frequency: Weekly; Publication dates: Vol. 2, no. 1 (Nov. 6, 1858)-v.2, no. 45 (Sept. 10, 1859); Notes: Editor, Elihu Burritt|
|Contributors||Guernsey, Lucius M; Burritt, Elihu,1810-1879|
|Collection||Newspapers of Connecticut|
|Source - Location||Connecticut State Library microfilm, AN104.N5 N67|
|Relation||Preceding title: North and South (New Britain, Conn.); Succeeding title: New Britain times (New Britain, Conn. : 1859)|
|Rights||Digital Image © Connecticut State Library. All rights reserved. Images may be used for personal research or non-profit educational uses without prior permission. For permission to publish or exhibit, see Reproducation and Publication of State Library Collections, http://ctstatelibrary.org/reproduction-publication/|
|Title-Alternative||New Britain journal; The North and South, and New Britain journal|
|CONTENTdm file name||15909.cpd|
T H E ORTH AND SOUTH
t t i u t I f i i r i B
VOLUME I I . NEW i n i l T A I N , CONNECTICUT,
T H E
QVnb Ncm Drilitin lonrnal,
R I . i n i T B V R R f T T E « i l t « r,
• i . m . (.iVRBIVflBV P r « p r l e l * r>
WILL ns issnicn GVRRY SATURDAT,
Priim tha frlntiiig OiUne of th« I'loprletor, ia thi nasomsnt ot
ths Daptlft Ohatoh, Niw BKITAIR, OOHN.
TKRMS:—$1.50 por nnnum, In Ai^vance. In bundles
of five or more to one tiddnus, 31.25.
Mom'tari of Normil dnhool, lubioriblng In ailmneo for tbe Tarm,
furnlRheJ at the nnnuiil lute,
Tkihi OP AnriRTisixo : — For n Pquum, on* InMrtton, T6 rent*,
xao;] n t liildial Tii-iwrttnn. 2) et» Fur half « 8ti3sr«, oo«
in.iHnion, SO r-aoin ; ench ntl'litiunMl InaeriloB. 16 eta.
OiieSamtrtffarayanr.JiIO. lUlfSqiiara CS. BaaineM Card*,
oouialotaK hit f fqiiare, per year, tfi.OO.
Maist Onie Day.
Ye ken dciir bairn, that we maun part.
When death, oauld death, shall bid us start,
But when he'll send Lis dreadful dart,
We oanna say,
8ae we'll he ready for his cart
Maist onie day.
Ye ken there's Ane wha's just and wise,
lie said that a' his bairns shall rise.
An' soar aboon the lotty skies,
An' there shall stny.
Bein, weel preparcl, we'll gain the prixe,
Maist uuie day.
When He wha made a' t h i n ^ just right.
Shall oa* us hence to realms of li};ht,
B^it morn, or noon, or e'en or night;
We will obey;
We'll be pr»?paretl to tak' our flight
iVlaist onie day.
Our lamp? we'll fill brim fu' of oil
That's gudc, mid pure, and wunna spoil—
We'll keep them burnin, a' the while,
To light our way.
Our wark bom' dune, we'll quit the soil
Alaist onie day.
Terso but mntter nnd motion ; and having pointed
out, perhaps more Bucoessfully thfto others, its
constitution and laws, still r c F u ^ to aoknowled^
an intelligent Agent, who made and governs it.
Alas! that, in this enlightened ago, there should
be any to whom the severe but well-founded re-mark
of sn inspired writer, oonoemins the aagot
of antiquity, may be with too much justice ap-ilied
: ProfiB3?ing themselves tq bo \»ise, they
>ccrtmo foo'o."—Dr. Dick.
Another Hand is Bcckouing Us.
BT J. a. WNITTIER.
Another hand is lieckoning us.
Another call is civoul
TU path that IcaJa to
(), half we deemed she needed not
The cliangiiig of her sphere,
To give to lica^en a shining one,
Who walked an at;gcl here.
Unto our Father's will alone
One thought has reconciled;
Thut He, whose love o.xceedcth ours,
lluth taken bume His child.
Fold hrr, 0 Father, in thine arms.
And let her henceforth bo
A messenger of love between
Our human hearts aud thi'«.
Still let her mild rebuking ^tand
Between us and the wrung.
And her dear memory serve to make
Our faith iii goodness strong.
The Adornments of Piety.
Considur the coniitiendalions be^stowed on these
uccuiupiiebinuuts by .the apostle. These dccora-tiuiis
urc not uurruptiblc. All other ornanieuts
)icrihh iu thu using. All other uttiro gives place
to the bhroud. licauiy cousumes away like a
moth, the sparldlnj» c}e is closed in darUnpss, the
bitdy IS laid in the grave, and death shall fetid up-uu
It. 'J'he uharnier, loukiiig in vain for adiiii-ii-
rs, siiyd to coriuptiuii, " Thou art my father,
iiiid to tiie worm, tliou art my mother auJ sitter."
Prolong life, aceidentd may distigure and diseases
corrode, ilow quickly time changes the counte-nance
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