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> * -?- **+ >. ^ | ^ --v.??* ? i ?- -? ? ? ? ? ?, " " ? * -? " - ?? - >o-< ? ! ?i ...? . *; - > >? . ?ii iwwfte^^awwfAaB autranra VOL 3. GREENVILLE, S. .: THURSDAY MORNING, JULY 24, 1856. ?."' ' \;^gNO~ II- \ ^jjj^ - ? flt ^ontjjfrn (gnttrprist, A'UfcFLEX OF POPULAR EVENTS ;; W3m?!5i3A^T IP- Jpmatfi*, EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. ^1 60t parable I* adeancq ; |i If delayed. Of.UHS of F1VK and upward# PI, the money \n every inrtanee to oeoompany the order. ' ADVKRTIHKMESTJJ inverted?on?p?cuou#Jy ftt, the rates of 75 osnti per square of 18 liner, end 35 emit# for each eiilmcqueot insertion. Co.v trnete for yearly advertising made reasonable. AOKNTS. TL TT.-CaIr, X. W. cor. of Walnut and Third-st, Philadelphia, i* our authorized Agent. Tft'. W. Walkeo, Jr., Columbia, S. C. rmz BtKADirv, Kaq.. FlutHoek, N. C. A. M. Pan**, Fairvicw I*. O., Greenville Diet WitUAX C. 13a*let, 1'lvasant Grove, Greenville. CUrr. R. Q. AKDKovtx, Cedar Fall*. Greenville. ^ortrij. From the New York Evening Miror, in** gif-Ueo D<*lrg flgo. jbt j. w. wei.cn. t>0 yott remember, 'loin, tlie pine. Where oft we nmxi to roam t That little cot beneath the tree* "W<i called our forest home ? Oh, ve?: I know you'll ne'er forget, Vvherever you may go, 'J hat eherMwd spot in which wc dwelt, Juvt fifteen years ago. TX) yoti remember how tho hours ' AM g*Uy wandarcd l?y ? I J low hand in hand we often roamed, When ntnr.* were in the ?ky ? Cl?. those were bright nnd joyous days \Ve ne'er nurnin shall know. ~ Z" TO.Sui.Ii jvy and bli-s as tliut tvc f.lt, Ju?t flCyrtt.yeer* ngo. i lURimcr time I wandered, Tom To wlicro we used to play. The srliooi uoiuc was not on the hill. The brook had diied away ; The uoudin.iir? axe had felled 'lu trees. 'I1i? cottage wits 1..M low, The fteta were not thrvc wo km w, J.yel jiftevit yea re ?go? 1 wandered to the old ehuieh-VHid, And (stepped beyond the wall; The graves were many, ami the grass O'er them, was thick and tall ; Upon the atones I read the names Of thoae who slept below, And ;ltoy were name* we loved to hear Just fifteen yeans ago. I roused a while, then turned away, And gained the dusty road, And from that spot so dear to ine, With tapiil step 1 strode. I could uot l?ear to look around, It made me tad to know, That all were gone whom we had loved, Just fifteen years ago. My eyes were wet with tears, Torn, They're falling while I write. Forms that I loved nro in the tomb, And I am sad to-night; But* Tom, our toirowa soon will end, Life's strewn) wiU cense to flow, And we shall rest where oft wo played Just fifteen years ago. I % Itlrrtrii ^krttjj. [From Graham's Magazine.] jfes ?fc?nt* ?f ? WiaM! A TALE OF THE FASHIONS. ^ TAIDOT ORKKN. It was a dark, black night. The winds came and went in fitful gusts, and the ntin began bespattering the hillside, the precursor of the storm that was to follow. But darker fer waa iny aching heart, more piercing and ?hilling far was die anguish than the drenching .rain or the chilling blast. So giving mj steed the rein 1 spurred madly <?ot lighted only by an oecasional flash of lightning, or the gleant of some wild will of the wisp, or swamp hall, as it shot pawt nto or toHowed whhuing in mj wake. Hut a momeiftPt retrospection. Like Ihif generality of my kind,\ 1 Jfcee and have a weakness, arid entrt nout, I hope by |lie Grace of God, I may everliave. I lpy?L,|!(|ofed madly. The object of iny adoration was a U<uutiTul 1 e ng. Mollie l'ritiglc had but a few equals and no wii|vq jiorsTa point of lovflitiA"-, grace and ami:; 1 bility. She had a soft, melting eye, a ricli. pouting lip; n blooming, healthful cheek, dark, flowing ringlets, a well rounded instep, a pretty foot, ami a?ho, my mouth 1 Mercy Mollie, pray behave, and I'll go no farther with the description, though at the risk of displeasing Mr. Graham, for I promised to furuish a good tale, and who ever heard of a perfect ta'.o without a description of the he* roine. Andys ne aais quoi ; but to my story She had tunny suitors?had Mury Frin gle and aome of them distinguished, wealthy and accomplished gentlemen. But, nevertheless, I whs successful. I outstripped thern all. I never told her veibally that L loved her, nor asked her if sho loved me in return. It was useless. I knew by the trembling, faltering voice, the soft pressure of the hand, the melting, languishing glance of the eye, tho tremulous, heaving of the breast the sweet endearing smile. These were mine alone. To others Iter bearing was different, though courteous ami kind. | Iler father's elegant mansion stood a mile from the village oT Halifax, Vn., so thither with buoyant hope, nml with a heart filled 'will* ?wMt and r*v.Jer emotions, T set out jonc evenly *u declare ve; bally my love, and to propose for her hand. Already was 1 treated as oiio of the family, and taking my ru-CU?tonied privilege, 1 walked into the house without tinging. Seeing no one, I passed through the parlor and was abouten| tering the common silting room when through an adjacent door that stood a little [ajar, 1 saw?oil ! horrors I I aaw that which j pierced my heart w ith a keener pang than I the deadly ating of a poisonous serpent. 1 saw "my loved one?her I scarcely dared to kiss or drcant even of the quick, nervous, pleasurable and extatic thrill at the pressure reclining ob I in a locked embrace, upon the knee of come moustache*) foreign looking gentleman, with Iter lips sealed to hi9 and tears strenmiug from her cy?s. Oh! God ,the anguish of that moment! One moment i was I tempted to tear out his hcait, but rctlectiug. 1 turned upon my heel and stole out unseen. 1 wetn'ed my way lack to the | village, and though half distracted yet I I wound up my little affair* for 1 was but a stuj dent mounted my faithful ?t cd, and by dark I ! was * n the highway, nttd on n?y way, I I knew nor cared not whither, so that I made ! good my escape from the detested village | and my faithless mistiest. 1 had not gone ; five miles before it was dark :is blackness? | my hand I could not dutinguish before 11ue. The wind and rain caine sweeping jover the bare fields with biting unction, and : howled and hissed and roared as if all the j devils in hell were let loose, and were riotline: and revcllinir ill inockerv at mv snlfar IiD$?' Tlio 6:0cm increased apace, so (1st I was | forced lo seek shelter, in mercy to my poor ; horse, in nn old church house thnt stood on i the rond side, and nt which my horse inIstinctively hailed. I pushed open the door and rode in ; it was so dark I could nlmoHt 1 feel it, but it necordcd with my feelings well, so made myself content The btorm without J was still raging, and the old house at intervals would wiiiho like a thing of life. All at once my horse gave a loud snort aud jumped hack against the benches that lined either side of the house. 1 looked tip but could 6Ct nothing ; out hoard distinctly a shuffling, rustling noise near the pnlp't. A flash of lightning just then lighted up the scuiio atul I saw, with feaiful distinctness, a figure stan.ling on tho altar, with long flowiug garments, aims extended wide. Oh, heavens 1 what a fearful moment! My hair stood on end, my blood frure in my veins, mid?but tliia was 110 lime for thought ?anolluirprolonged tlnsli of lightning again lighted up the place. -I saw the figure again, flying over the benches toward me. I hoped it was but an image conjured up by au overheated imagination ; but no. My horse with i a wild, unearthly neigh or ratherscrennv, and w ith a fearful bound, sprang out of lite bouse, amj with the speed of tho wind, ho carried n)e over hill and dale, moor, thicket, highway, and wood, ! knew not whither. Hut im, 011 wo went. The sweat and foam streamed from my panting steed, but still he relaxed not it: his speed, while 1 clung instinctively to the saddle, and let hlin go where he listed. j A A.. ... ? ? ?i A 1- !. - - niier wit uuur a nuc, sucu u now as uo other mortal orer took, my horse wheeled a ahort angle into the road, which we had at last gained, and halted abruptly before a large white hou?e from whose windows streamed a dozen lights. And welcome night wna that. I threw the teina over the horse'i head and discounted. I knew not in the gloom and darkness of the night, and the excitement of my mind, whoee house it was, or where my position, whether in Virginia Carolina, or the Western Continent at largo I ran lip the steps into a large piazza, and as I groped my way r along the side of tlx house, for tho door, I passed a window from ah eh streamed a light. 1 looked eagerly in, and saw a young lady routed at the tabU ! close by the window, and but a few feet from where i stood. I iai?u U on lip too and looii ; a nearer look, lint who can portray my I astonishment on finding it to be my faithj less mistress. Thinking it was but anothei j being oonjured up by tlio devil, I was uboui I to llv the *|K>t, w hen she rained annall ruin ialu o io her lips, and rw site did so I dis covered it to be a likeness of myself, one 1 ! had presented to her a few weeks previous. Oh, this was too much happiness; or was it still the machinations of the devil f I resolved to solve the mystery, though all the devils in hell were leagued against mo. I rattled at the door, and waited with estrange mixture of feelings ; with joy, with fear, with trembling. A servant, after a moment, ushered mc into the house, which I found, to my profound astonishment, to bo that of my friend, Col. Pringle, the father of her I loved. The Colonel greeted me, and after express ing much surprise at seeing rue at such n late hour, and in such a plight as I was in, led forward his son, in the person of the moustnehed, foreign looking gentleman, who had been absent at sea two years and whom I had never seen. The mystery was explained ; and, oh, how satisfactorily ! It was llio long absent brother, whom they thought dead, greeting the dear sister. And I had occular proof that night that I was beloved notonlv bv the scene nt itm I I window, of the miniature, but from her own ] pooling Hds. I sat down, and though the hour was late, gavo an account of my adventures '.lirough the night. And many and loud were tho peal* of laughter that broke forth from the recital. The adventure in tho church was explained. There was a crazy woman in the neighlkorhood of the church, who, whenever she could escape from her friends, would go to tho church and stay, sometimes for days Thus was the mystery explained. But the habv has just waked up, so 1 must e'en lay down the pen. 3Hifitellii litmus tailing. Titan?, was once upon a time a pocr ma eon or bricklayer in Grenada, who k?pt all the Saiul's days and holydays. and bt. Monday in the bargain, and ye', with nil his devotion, he grew poortr and poorer, and could scarcely enrn bread for his numerous family. One night ho was aroused from his hist sleep by a knocking at tho door. lie oj>en ed it, and bebehl before hint a tall, meager, cadaverous looking priest."IJark ye, honest friend," said tho stran ger ; "I have observed that you are a good christian, and one to bo trusted ; will you undertake a job this very night !" ' Willi all my heart, Senor Padre, on condition that 1 am paid accordingly." "That you shall ; but you must suffer yourself to be blindfolded." To this the mason made no objection ; so, i..,:. i i. i-j i? -i - - . iiu win it*u t?y nifl priest ' through various lanes and winding passages tin lit l hey stopped before the poitnl of a j house. | 'I lie priest then applied r. key, tinned nl creaking lock and opened what appeared to , be a ponderous door. They enteied, the , door was closed and bolted, aud the mason was conducted thiougb an ecbuing coriider, and a'spacious ball, to the interior of the . building, here the bandage was removed , from his eyes, and lie found himself in a i pario, or court, dimly lighted by a single lamp. In the centre was the dry basin of an old Moorish fountain, under which the i priest requested him to foim a small vault, i biicks and mortar being at hand for the pur pose. lie accordingly worked all night, but without finishing the job. Just before day-break the priest put a piece of gold into bis hand, and having again blind-folded , him, conducted him back to bis dwelling, i "Are you w illing," said he, "to return and , complete your woik!" "Gladly, Senor Padre?provided I am so well paid." "Well, then, to morrotv, at midnight, I will call again." , He did ?o?and the vault was completed. "Now," said the priest, "you must help me to bring forth these bodies that are to , be buried iu this vault. The mason's hair rose on his hend at these words; he followed the priest with trembling steps into a retired chamber of i the mansion expecting to Whold some ghastly spectacle of death, but was relieved , on seeing three or four portly jars standijitig in one corner. They were evidently I v..it ? ?i it i U1I UI invnC(T, iliiu 11 WM mill giem lHl>Or , that ho nnd the piieat carried them forth i and consigned them to their toinb. The i vault was then closed, the pavement replAi ced, and all traces of woik obliterated. The mason was again hoodwinked And led forth i by a route different from that by which he , had come. After tbey bad wandered for a , long time through a perplexed maze of lanes . anu alleys, they halted. The priest then | put two pietee of gold into his hand ? ? "Wail here," said lie, "until jou hear the ) cathedral bell toll for matins, if yott pre sumo to uncover your eyes before that time, 5 evil will befall you so saying be deparlod. i The mason waited faithfully, amusing I himself by weighing the gold pieces in Ins r hand, and chinking them against cath oilier. The moment the cathedral bell rung r iu matin peal, lie uncovered himself ami t found himself on the banka of iho Xenil, . from where he niada the l?ost of his way home, and raveled with hii family for a whole fortnight on the profit* of his two nights' work; after which he was as poor as ever. lie continued to work n little and pray n good deal, and keep Saint*' days and liolvdays, from year 1o year, while his family grew up as gaunt and rahid as a crew of gipsies. As he was seated oiio evening at the door of Ida hovel he was accosted by n licit old curmudgeon, who was noted for owning a great many houses, and being a griping landlord. 'I lie man of money eyed liim for a moment from beneath a pair of auxions shagged eye brow s. "I nm told, friend, that you are very poor." 4 There is no denying the fact, Senor?it i speaks for itself.r 441 presume that you will be glad of a job and work cheap." "As cheap, my master, as any mason in Grenada." J lint's wlmt I want, I have an old house fallen into decay, thnt corta me more money than it is worth, to keep it in repair, tor no one will live in it; so I must contrive to patch it up at as small an expense an possible." The mast n was accordingly comlueted to a large deserted house that seemed going to ruin. Passing through sew ral empty halls and chambers, ho cntcretl an inner court, where his eye was caught l?y an oJd Moorish fountain, lie paused for a moment, tor dreaming recollection* of the place very distinctively came over him. Pray," said he, "who occupied this house formerly I" "A pest upon him !"' cried the landlord, "it was nu old miserly priest, who cared for nobody but himself, lie was said to he immensely rich, and, having no lelations, it was thought he would leave his treasures to the church, lie died suddenly ami the priest and friars thronged to take possession of his wealth, hut nothing could they Hud hut a few ducats in n Icalhein putse. The worst luck lias fallen to me, for, since his death, the old fellow continues to occupy my house without paying rent, and there's no taking the law of a dead man. The people pretend to hear the chinking of gold all night in the chamber where the old priest slept, as if he were counting over his money, and sometimes a groaning and moaning about the court. Whether true or false, these stoma brought a had name on iny house, and not a tenant will remain in it." "Euougli," said the mason sttuuily, "let me live in your house, rent fice, until some better tenant present* himself, and I will put it in repair, and quiet the troubled spiiit that disturbs it. i mn a grxxl Christian and a poor man, nn<l am not to be daunted by tlio devil himself, even tlioii**It he should come in the shape of a bay; ol money/' The offer of the honest mason was gladly accepted ; ho moved with his family into the house and fulfilled all his engagements. By little end little he restored it to its former stale ; the clinking of gold was no more heard at night in the ehatuber of the defunct priest, but began to bo heard by day in the pocket of the living mason. In a word, he ir; created rapidly in wealth, to the admiration of nil his neighbors, and became one of the riclnat men, in Grenada ; he gave a large sum to the chuicli by way, no doubt of satisfying hi* conscience, and never revealed the secret of the vault until on his death bed, to his son and heir. ? i g e s 1 i b e f o to e Ir s of \ be Sloftiqch. Dr. Bkaumont, of the United States Army, has published his "Experiments aud observations on tho Gastric Juice and the Physiology of Digestion." These experiments have been made from time to time, during tho last eight years, on a Canadian Frenchman, who, in 1822, was accidentally wounded by tho discharge of a tuuskel, the contents of which were received in his left side, and carried away the parts so as to wound the lungs and stomach very seriously. The very remarkable result was, that the man recovered his health ; but in tho healing ol the parts, the coats of the stomach attached themselves to the lips of the externa! wound and formed an artificial nurture to the stomach ; so that this organ could be exam lllt'U ill mijr IIIIIC, l?V pUsun^ ill n Viii'.i which lite stomach had formed to close the aperture, so as to prevent its contents fioui escaping thereat. With advantages for fitsiric experiments never before enjoyed, >r. Beaumont applied himself to this interesting inquiry with a degree of assiduity and pnlieitco highly commendable. The work which he has recently published, as the result of his experiments and observations, i* described as interesting, and in many res peels valuable. The following rules are deduoed horn Dr. Beaumont's work : | 1. Bulk, or food possessing a due proportion of innutrilious matter, is best calculated to preserve the jmrtflahent welfare of the organs of digestion, and the general interest* | of the system. '2. The food should be plainly and simply prt-parcd, with no other seasoning than a lit tie salt, or occasionally a little vinegar. 3. Full and deliberate mastication ?I chewing la of great importance. t. Swallowing the food slowly,or in final! I # 1 quantities, and at short intervals, is very necessary. 5. A quantity not exceeding tlio real wants of the economy, ia of prune importance to health. 6. Solid aliment, thoroughly masticated, is far more salutary thnn soups, broths, dtc. j 7. Fat meats, butter, nnd oily substances i of every kind are difficult of digestion, otlen; sive to the stomach, and tend to derange ; that organ, and induce disease. | 8. Spice9, pepj>er( stimulating and heating c ndimeuU of every kind, retard digestion | and injure the stomach. ! 0. Coffee and tea debilitate the stomach [ ?tn?l | 10. Alcohol, whether in the torm or ois! tilled spirits, wine, beer nnd cider, or any | other intoxicating liquors, impairs digestion. I debilitates the stomach, nnd if persevered in j for a short time, always induces a morbid state of tjiat organ. 1 11. Narcotics of every kind impair digestion, debilitate the stomach, and tend to disease. 1 12. Simple water is the ouly fluid called for by the wants of the system ; artificial drinks arc all more or less injurious?some more than otheis?but none can claim exemption from the general charge. 13. Gentle exercise, nfter eating, promotes1 digestion more than indolent inactivity or ! re-t. Violent everriso with u full I ? - j ! is injurious. I 14. Sleep, soon after eating, retards <11 | [ gestion, and leads to debility and derange- I 1 merit of the stomach. | 15. Anger, fear, grief and all o*h?r strong i emotions, disturb digestion, impair thefuncj tional power* of the stomach, and deterio ! 1 ale the secretions generally. j Tai Euxjckkck or Uomklv Words.? j To those who know the leriible force which j .John Randolph could throw into the tenes j of his remarkable and penetrating voice, and .he significance of hia gesticulation when he extended his tlini arm and long skeleton foietlnger, the following paragraph will bo read with a thrill. It is reported by a writer in i the National Intelliguicr, as having been ( heard by him thirl)* years ago as he entered the gallery of the House of Representatives. It has not been reported elsewhere. The words arc plian Saxon, but the thought 1 and manner are in the highest stylo of oratory t "Look at hiin, Mr. Speaker! Xupoleor. the First, Empcrurct France, King of Ttnly, lVotectorn t f the Confederation of the Rhino, j Mediator of the Swiss Confederation, <fcc ? | Look at him, sir, with the sceptre of Sp inel in one hand and the mines of Mexico and! 1'ertt in the other. Look at hill), sir, at j Moscow, irt the palace of the Kremlin, seat- j eil upon tlio throne of the nncict Czars of, Russia." Here Mr. Randolph gently turned himself round and pointed his finger in an opposite diiectiou, and ilowly said ; "Then, Mr.Speaker, look at him, sir, dying among the rats in St. Helena! Power tir! power, sir !'' n>tnn!rm H3 .yuuuiuj .AllllUtUy. Be Euncitial at 6l)ti'rci). I Many excellent Christians arc guilty, through thoughtlessness, of rohbling God, robbing liiin habitually of tho time belong- j ing to liia service. 'J'liey are uniformly lato at religious worship, dropping in at church, live, ten, or fifteen minutes after tho public devotions have commenced. Conscience has become quite blunted in its retnonI stranees, and tho example set by those who i should he modles, is readily imitated by a q crowd of careless ones. Tardiness in atten , dnncc on public and social worship is one of. j the commonest sins ot the day, hut no less I a sin on account of its universality. We; ! would like, for the mere novelty of the thing, ! to be connected with a church, where all its ; members, from the pastor downward, were I in their places at the precise moment np | I pointed to commence the services. From the fact that some seriraulotia Chi Gonna ' j never late, never guilty of a breach of doco-' j rum by disturbing their fellow worship-1 per*, we infer that all might be punc*1 : tual, if they hnd tender consciences nnd res- j [ olute wills. We commend to any of ourj ! renders, who are conscious of numerous sins , in this particular, to attempt a radical and i thorough reform. The following remarks from an exchange' . i are m point; I If a thing is worth doing at nil. it is worth j I doing well. There must be nn hour apl pointed for tho service of the Sabbath to commence. To have such an hour and not regard it, i* only a mockery. To have such an hour and mean something else is very childish. To say *'u quartet past ton, A. M.," atul to understand it "half past"? to say "half-past" nnd really intend about , "twelve minutes before eleven." is living I words quite idly,and tampering w ith common 1 ! conscience and honesty. Say what you, | mean, and stick to it, lit the li"tir nnd ' meet it on tho chime. f The tramp of late coining feel up thoaislos ; and along the galleries, is u great annoyance tr every mjiioiis minded worshipper ? and has no tendency to sanctify the minister.? So many heads ?? ? set on pivots, turning' Hie well oile<l weather cocks to every gentle blast from the open door, even every rustle of silk and muslin that a preacher loses the countenance of, half, his congregation when the interruption occurs?and is in dnng'erof losing his own countenance, and something' else beside. ? It is a piece of indecorum' to go l'nto tt> church, unless compelled by some rigid necessity, which every well bred perron,to take no higher ground, will blush to prnctico; Wo are not saving if you find you aro about to be late, you had better not to eonre At all. Many people reason in that way for ltdOiii. .llk'it inn i? llmt vah murkt to go, and to go punctually, lou would hardly think it courteous, if you were invited to a dinner party at a specified Imur. to stroll' in half an hour behind time, keeping, the company wailing your tardy ariivnl; or putling back its courses to begin nfrc-?!i, wi?h you. It would be about as difficult to vindicate the COlirtfisv nn<l nronri.at\' t t j ? j ? - to tlie gospel-feast out of tunc. What should hinder any one ftom- being: punctual ? The whole Sabbath i* divinely ret apart for this very interost of reKgfoua* culture. There is not an-hour of it that ib= not legitimately claimed for something connected with the soul's spiritual welfare;?What other appropriation of its consecrated* time can justify itself! Over sleeping ?die4 lay iti household duties?listlcs-new uudprocrastination in preparing?lingering at' the toilet?these sometimes occasion, but surely cannot warrant a man of punctuality. God has made the day for his uud attracted service. lie has given it (o-us for that purpose. He enjoins upoe us such an obser^v.incc of its sacred moments. And it is mf shame and a guilt to squander any pntticm* of it upon our indolence or convenience. [iTuffc. cfc Rrflcctvr. WjJ Sqbbgibs* I must l>e more particular itt. many thing* if I am to enjoy the advantages fbf~ wHtcti' the Sabbath was intended. 1.-1' must not forget tlmt there at* as many hours in a Sabbath day, as in any other day. This thing of sleeping Ml- Hour longer on that da)- than usual, is robbing God, and robbing ni)self. I must begin the day At the right time, as well as in the right wny. 52. f must be punctual in attending uport" the worship of the sanctuary. It is not only a day of rest, but of devotion; And when in the sanctuary, 1 must try to be a ttUCworshippcr. 3. I must pray for a blessing Upon the Sabbath and its privileges. I must ask that my own heart may be prepared for its du: ties. I must pray tbat the blessing of he a* ven inav rest on inv pa*tor, and that in the public assembly." "God's grace may descend us the dew upon the hearts oi those **h?' meet for his worship. 4. I must more entirely dismiss' secular1 things, wot Idly thoughts, conversation, and employments, l'oli'.ies and business must, with the plough and axe, rest until the Shb^ bath is gone. I have sadly failed here, especially in ray thoughts and conversation: 5. 1 must try to remember that the Sab-bath is an. earnest of the rest remaining- f*y the people of God : that every one it . comes may l*o the last, and should be spent as if to he succeeded by the eternal Sabbathin heaven. 0. I must not forget that the Sabbath, well spent, secures a blessing uja?n the other means of grace. It greatly increa es the spirit of prayer?it is 10 secure the'profitable reading of the Scriptures?it iriake* us' realize the sweetness and profit df fellow-' ship of the sainU ? it makes us joy fill in' G<ni's house. 7. i must carefully review my failures in" regard to tiie Sabbath and repent, mourning ' over my sins, and turning from the'tnl yi'rebb. of the WfMl. 1 Would Uatiikr be Scoldkd than tell a I .IB.?That was the noble reply which Augustus made, and one which we wish nil boys would remember, when any one asks them to lei! a falsehood. One ?U* ???i " *ic?i Augustus wax sent to the grocery by bin mother to get some milk in a pitcher, Rob* **} ert wanted to go in his stead; and when', they got out into the street, he tried to fore* the pitcher out of his brother's hand, Augustus held the pitcher fast, till at lust it was broken to pie.-es in the scuffle, by falling on the ground. Augustus Iwgan t<? cry bitterly. A jatrson who was in the sueet, and saw bow it happened, catne up and told him to say, when he gH home, v that the woman who sold the milk had broken the pitcher. Augustus wiped his eyes, and looking steadfastly in thnt person's face, tdd, "7'ftfll u oulU be telling a lit, 1 will tcIL the truth, then my mother will not scold me, but il sho should, / would rather be ecotdid than (ell a lie* It is vcty rate to find ground which pro- ~ duces nothing: if it is not covered with tiuw--* crs, with fruit ire* a and grains, it produces, btiam and pine. It i? the same with omit ;; if he i? not virtuous ho h. <vtue* vhuouh >. fji ilstt u< ti, , % Y? ' i ?