> * -?- **+ >. ^ | ^ --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 ?