The mountain Democrat. [volume], February 14, 1863, Image 1

About The mountain Democrat. [volume] (Placerville, El Dorado County, Calif.) 1863-1943

Image provided by: University of California, Riverside; Riverside, CA

                
VOLUME X. (
THE MOIXTAIN DEMOCRAT.
PUBLISH KL) i:\TKV A)I.*/l3f8, BT
U ■ L W I O K 0 Sc J A NU AK "V
». W. llltKM, "• ■»
Vim« iHtamTi)) *or*»c«-One Tern - , $•>: Si* Month*.
M7Thra« Month*, $ I W; *>ne Month (payable to the Car
rier), leoeau; ttlugle Copies liScent*.
AgVRITIIIINO—One Square. of Inline*, first insertion $8;
Mfh iiMMUcnt Is'crlioD. |l 5*'; ('atd», «f hi Unci
«r Ims, one year. $?5; Hu»ioan* Card*. of 1» line* or !c**,
UrM month*. $10. A liberal di*eount «HI l>e made on t!>o
above rani for yearly aud quarterly advertisement* which
exceed one square.
UOl* PRINTING.—Our Office i* replete with all the modern
Improvement* for the *«*t, cm*** »si> n«rin etccutioii of
every *tvle of PRIN TING. eneh a* H*ok«. Pftn.phl.-. Brief*.
Pooler*,'Handbill*. Circular*. Ball Ticket*. Programme- i . i -
tIBcatev of Stock or Rillhcol" Oh- k«. !«•- • tpia.
tCarda. Label*, et<?., in plain or fau* y colored Ink*.
JUSTICES’ BLANKS — Aflldn«ir«.r't.dcrMlfli l e* and Writ- .f
Attachment, under the new lanr.t -r «»'«• :n if.i* office. :»!-■•.
Blank Declaration* of llnme»teud. tin- jw< .*t ••onv ni.nr f rni
Inane. Ju*t printed, a complete form • ■ ' MIM US I• I Ml.
Alaw, a beautifully executed MAItKI.M.K CFHTIF1CATK.
V..T.'VWRWR/Sd.ttrn f *»•*+&** *»*+•/. U- Maguire *
Opera Motive |« the onlv auth"t i/- l \ s .-!it T--r •! • M« H v f 1 1 N
HKMOCKAT. In the city of Man Franai'C" All order, for
the Paper or Advertising left with Unit wt.l he promptly at
tended to.
J. C. KKRf.KY i* anthwriied in receive money* due thU Office,
fer fuhncription*. adrerti«ing, etc.
Nr. H. BROWN I* the aoth. ■ It1 %e*+l »f the • ! MOCR \ V at
Georgetown. Order* f -r the paper. *d. i. itu. -r .• •
work, left with him. will lie pt mptl' avu. l* -l l«».
AM. P. JACB.MMN i* the aii*h..rire l t• • of •». M*H\
TAIN OKMoCKA r at Kl Dorado. order* left with him ,
be promptly attended to.
*1. J. MOLF.MAS It our authorized az«»ut at 9 . •ramev.o.--
All erder* for advertising. etc., left «it:* him » ill receive iut
mediate attention.
4. ■. I.. BIAS i* agent f. r the Di»fk*r at Virgil.City,
Nevada Territory.
COT- WM. KNOX la our authorir.-d ajent s' •. r•./* 1 > —
All order* given him for the L»emw> rat aid t.a pr •i.ip 1 .y u’
Oflieft on f* ol*> in a Strfrf.
Professional (Carts, IZtr.
TH08. J. OHGON,
ATTORNEY - AT -I. AW,
El Dorado, El Dorado County. [mal7
F. A. HOHKBLOWEK,
ATTORNEY AND COl’NSfT.I.OIt AT I.A1Y,
Willi practice io all IN-fNur'. of lit 1 : I a!
Harriet. OKKICK- At IM • II. !. II !• t • ■ < ui.-
ty. 'in.,\ 17 - ..
JTaaaa Raaaroan, Tie-* II Wii.uiji*.
HEREFORD & WILLIAMS.
ATTORNEY it AND CUUNMiLL"!** AT-LAW.
Office -N ..»i. J. sir.• r t... N. ‘••'a
la«n. Sai ratn,.nto.
Will practice in C- >'.ip:*~ i »• I I>
Caartof dacranim' 1 v 1 u l; . , .:.!
A
*. Xt. S.Mfcrt - «. i, I o
SANDERSON & WILLIAM.'.!,
ATTORN I Y - • A 1 ■ I. A 'V .
Office—Ibiujr'a**’ I'. . el I . r tl ■ * tv
U.uff, Maui s’r*.et, !‘.a < : \ i 1 - t: - •>
O. W. GORDON,
ATTORN E Y • A T I. A IV ,
Yireinia City, N. T ltd. e ut I
II. ,1 r t f.’J
A. C. SEAIiLE,
ATTORN! V • A 1 I I IV ,
Office in Dougla*,' I. -
C..i. .
feljJt
joha in «r, ii. - o»'.
HUMS « SI,OSS,
ATTORNEY' ITI I 'I .
lie in < o; II • i I
Will prai 1 1 , 1. ,u in '.. i
a>ljnii.inri' ■ • - — • ' ..
Courts of l lali 1 . i . .t■ r> -
CU AS. 1). HANDY.
COC.NSKLI.OR AND ATTORNEY iT-t.AlY,
Office In Kl Dorado 7i*e< * 1W : 1 :.ir t.- i. v ■ y I‘ ' ; -
ruyT rucerv.i;.:,
G. D. HALE, O. YALE,
Plactrrill*. * /'
Practice l ot in a’.', ti c V ' I t
Offieff, al Canon an I Virginia l it}, y tf
M. K. SHEARER,
ATTORNEY AND COCM*FI I OR IT I.\IV, AND
notary ru-.iir.
Office, at UeaElciice. Main a *r c*. tin . ..
doart above Bedford Avenue, l'laccrv all**. aulu
E. B CARSON,
NOTARY PUBLIC AND CONVEYANCER,
Office in the Court House, PLcerville.
[tnolt'J
Dll. I- S. TITUS,
Office—Postoffice Block, up-lairs. [-apl -'I
13ool»s, Stationery, l£tc.
W. M. BKtOKIJOV \ « O..
POSTOFFICK nUUMM;, flm kryiu.k,
iFotrsnct' from M.« u *•.. u;.l !’■ •' ■'
WH'U.L* %L»: ASH RKI UL 1 L*LKll
BOOKS A A l> STiTIOMtlV.
CtTTLERY,
fancy GOODS,
CIGARS,
TOBACCO,
FRUITS,
CANDIES,
NUTS, ETC.,
All of which they offer for sal*? at the very LOWEST
Market IV ice*.
Subscription* received .or all the leading
publications of the day.
New Books Received, Directly from
the Ifeat, by every Steamer,
janl# W. M. lJKADSUAW A CO.
PLAZA BOOK STORE,
PLACERVILLE,
Has just received a splendid assortment of
Standard and Miscellaneous Works,
STATIONERY, SCHOOL ROOKS,
• jirr books, ALuriis, cn i.i-.kv,
•TOTS, OOI.I» PKN*, V14-MNS.
flt ITARS, ACCOItUMiNS, Mi »li IMK>KS,
NO MAN STB I SOS, Et C., K1c\,
.‘Selected expressly for the Country Trade, and selling:
At greatly reduced rates. Also,
AOEN T 3
Cor 8acranoento. Union, Alta California, bulletin.
Mirror, etc.
NEWSPAPERS AND PERIODICALS
Kept constantly on hand, and sold unusually 1 w.
ltf HERNANDEZ 4 ANM.U.'ON'.
S. HARRIS,
.Corner of Main Street and the riata,
dz
PLACERVILLE,
WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALER IN
rHavwna Clgara, Tobacco, Book,, Sln
tloncry, Culler}-, Playing Curd*
Yankee Notions, Fruit*, Creeu
and Dried, ut * and Candie
AT SAN FRANCISCO PRICKS.
Also,received by every Steamer the !af- Atlantic
ana European Newspapers, Mignxir.''* ; . , IVrlodl
cal», and all the WEEKLY CALIFORNI A NEWSPA
PERS and MAGAZINES. 1 iJ l-Jm
D
EG AL BLANKS OF ALL KIN! |u|i.-
J at thia office.
BEDS, MORTGAGES AND DECLA
tiona of Homesteads, for sale at this of
THE MOUNTAIN DEMOCRAT.
PLACER VIE, LE, EL DORADO COUNTY, CALIFORNIA, SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 1863.
TI1I£ X 1,000 SOTE.
Mr. Doutrlas was in lui*\weas. Nov*
far from the Bank as ts Sboweforik sum
mit from its base was Mr. Douglas’s estab
lishment, which he contemplated with
great satisfaction—as, indeed, he might
well, for the windows displayed an amount
of jewelry and costly articles ‘unequalled’
(as might be learned from the covers of
contemporary magazines) ‘by any house
in the world'—‘in the world, sir!' would
Mr. Douglas say to his acquaintances,
putting tiie expressive noun in large cap
itals.
Mr. Douglas lmd risen from the ranks
to hi.- present position,and it was his wont
to boast lie had never made a bad debt,
or was Monel’ It was once remarked, in
his beating, too, vnat to get the ‘ocst of
hiitT one must rise very early in the raorn
ing.
W hereupon Mr. Douglas said, ‘They
mustn't go to bed at all, sir; and then
they coni in't do it!’
We have shown sufficient of Mr. Doug
las for tiie purpose of the present narra
tive.
ife was hut the type of hundreds of our
shiewd tiudesnion. It was noon; he was
in bis counting house, and the broad tho
roughfare was thronged with equipages,
one of which drew op before his door, anil
a mild looking gentleman, in undress na
val uniform,' alighted from the carriage
and walked into the shop. Mr. Douglas
looked over the curtain of his counting
house window, and, being too late to see
bis customer, lie fell to examining his ve
hicle. I»v which, not less than the man, he
calculate d the quality. and weighed in his
mind the necessity ol personal atten
dance.
After a careful survey lie returned from
the win-h»v, laid down the pen he had
been writing with, saying the while to
hini'c l :
‘Plain—certainly plain ; hut it has the
air about it.’
A I, icp.-ating this observation, he
I i" 1 ii 1 *• * tb »h«p, where his customer,
aell' hi g man, but extremely staid
and dehc.-ite lor a sea captain, w as await
: him ; tmt li.i- delicacy became quite
naluiul as the result oi recent injuries and
ciis (U. t .■ h« -i,tli, from w hich he was
e. . i y -ti.: stilleimg, as his right arm
was in a -
■ ..I in : :.ii .', sir,’ said the bland
tn ,.n.; •pray, be seated. What can
I sh .a i i, sir?'
'I 'mv watch and some gen
. at, win u it fell, rccotmneiid
ne ! )) iM tor belli promptness and ef
! n y,' sai t the gentleman in uniform,
!: "in the chain at his breast a gold
•' ‘ peat' I.
1 1, sir, I am sure they did me
r i ; but «e do please, sir — we
s .. iy to *l" it, ami v. e succi-c I. Iteturn
e-l li" :i t ,c « i linen twenty, sir?’
‘N v i'y , imt tliis is tbe- first time I
a out. in consequence ol my
w -*.i t captain — lor such he
. . . ‘ ■ -s. all tig himself.
.sii.i tiie obsequious
, .... while lie examined the
iu: ti,
A ,’ -ai 1 hi- customer.
‘ih'.teri al atei internal also.’
•V. by, yes,’ again ejaculated the cap
tain, rat!., r surprised at the interest ta
hen in bis wotimis.
'!:. ■> d, w e might say the vital cord is
>L Vv ‘i.
'»>, . t .pi t • so bad as that, I hope!'
w as the t e.-pon.-e, a. euinpanicd by a feeble
smil-c
■i,' .it-", sir, 1 assure you, quite. We
an :. : n . motion — nunc whatever.’
An i tie gave tiie watch a twist
•i hi, the watch—all, to be sure,’ said
the lelievidjlmt mistaken captain.
A. -; allow me to hope your injuries
ai e not . f so serious a nature. This shall
I c attended to, sir, during the week.—
And, n >w, may I make bold to inquire
who ot tny friends w ere kind enough to
sav so good a Word lor me? Dundas? —
Lyons.
•We.!, yes, certainly they were present;
I it it was Captain lierry more parlicu
hii : y.’
‘All, tny old frieii ; Captain Berry. Is
lie 'in! ot tbe 'Achilles,’ and has lie es
d imhuri?' said the shopkeeper,whom
f. rend r w ih perceive to have a beeom
in_' love for gieat men.
•ll.-’s true to bis old boatds, and had
his i- ..li i i h — inucli glory and but little
r,' - ii i in captain, evidently cha
.1 a Berry’s superior fortune, and
t »s. i .g to „o.
‘C in 1 do nothing more for you to-day,
sir ?’
'Why, being about to retire, I do want
a little plate; but another time— ’
‘No time like the present; allow me to
show you some;’ and the courteous Doug
las led the w ay into the show-room, where
lie was more than ever convinced of his
customer's genuine gentility, by the costly
selections he made, and the evidently su
perior taste and judgment which allowed
iiim to admire articles be was not asham
ed to confess lie could not afford to buy.
'It is, indeed, elegant!’ said lie, changing
iii- position to examine a silver ewer from
all sides—‘very.’
‘Allow me to set it down ; the price is
low, extremely low lor the quality and
workmanship. There has been but one
of the pattern sold yet, and that to J-ord
A——, so universally known as a patron
of art.’
‘Thank you, no; my circumstances
wou.d not justify it. I have already pur
chased uiueli more than I intended. Make
them into a parcel that w ill do for the
rail.’
‘What name, sir? and will you call and
affix tiie address ?'
es— Douglas,’ said the naval gentle
man.
‘Douglas?’ repeated the prou^fclver-
Acs. sic; a namesake. I remember,
w'. i Berry told me I should recollect
■ bom I wanted by that coincidence.—
Dundas said 1 ought to support the family
name.’
‘lie might have said family without the
name. There never was but one family
of the Douglas, though that is scattered
now through all the known world, and
every county of England has its.branch.
May I ask to which you belong, Captain
Douglas?’ *
‘My family are of Derby,' was the re
ply of the naval gentleman, who was evi
i ently pleased with the shopkeeper’s ci
‘Ah! they may be found eyepywhere;
| but they arc all—all descended from the
I Scotch. _
*' •?.-.*! . nWiinly, and I’m proud
to bear the illustrious name.'
‘I do not doubt you will add glory and
honor to it. The Douglaaea were erer
brave.'
•Can you give me the invoice of my
purchase ?’ asked the captain, not liking
the fulsome compliment
‘Directly, air,’ said the jeweler, and,
conducting his customer to a private room
behind the shop, he went to give the ne
cessary orders.
Meanwhile the naval Douglas helped
himself to sherry from a decanter on the
tabic, and taking up the newspaper lolled
back on ifhc ottoman comfortably.
‘Would you like them togt> to,-night
asked the silversmith, presenting the bill.
‘I think not; they will he safer here till
we go down to Derby, which will be very
shortly, for London doesn’t agree with
me. In the meantime a friend, who’ is
absent in the north, has placed his estab
lishment at my disposal,’ said the captain,
taking up the bill, and then continuing,
'one tboirsasd two hundred and fifty.—
Discount for ready cash ?’
‘\es, sir,’ said the shopkeeper descend
ant of the Douglas, ‘certainly.’
‘Oblige me with materials for writing.
I must send to my wife ; I never care to
carry notes of value with me,’ said the
naval Douglas, preparing to write with
his left band ; but after several fruitless
attempts, he threw down the pen in dis
gust.
‘Deuced awkward, to lose the right
hand.’
‘You may say that,’ said the silver
smith.
His customer inwardly thanked him for
the kind admission, then said aloud :
'Just write for me. Though my ser
vant is as trusty as any in England, I
think it a shame to throw temptation in
his way.’
‘Just so.’
‘And, by the way, where do you dine
to day ? Come, you are a new-found
relative; say you’ll come with me ; do,
now.'
‘Well, I tjiank you lor your frankness; ;
and, not to be behind-hand in courtesy, I
will.’
‘Done like a Douglas,’ said the captain;
‘and now lor the note.'
The silversmith took up the pen. 'Will
you dictate ?’
Thus he dictated, while the unsuspect
ing ‘wide awake’ Douglas wrote :
‘Deaii Wife— I have found a new rela
tion, who will dine with us to-day. And
1 have made a rather large purchase in
plate. You will find a roll of notes in my
desk ; semi me one thousand pounds by
bearer, who lias the key. Y’ours,
‘D. Dokilas.
And then taking out a bunch of keys
lie selected one, and dispatched the ser
vant, bidding him drive quickly, and lose
no time in returning to him there. The
two Douglases then returned, and talked '
ami drank a bottle of wine very amicably •
together.
‘I see Berry is promoted,’ said the cap
tain, taking up the paper again.
•lie deserves to be,’ was the reply.
’Tint he does! What an audacious
fraud on the bank, that.’
•Terrible 1 1 am sure nobody knows
w hen they may trust a servant’
‘Indeed they don't. Did you ever suf
fer ?’
•I have been very fortunate,’ said the
shopkeeper, with a complacent smile.
•Ah 1 shrewdness is the Scottish char
acteristic, and the English would do well
to copy, rather than sneer at it'
‘I have often said so, and felt grateful ;
for it has saved me more than once from
the Philistines.’
‘Really you cannot depend upon ser
vants even for a trifling errand; how long
(Ircen has gone, to be sure,' said the cap
tain.
‘Why, yes, he is a long time ; but per
haps Mrs. Douglas herself was absent, or
twenty things might detain him.’
‘O, yes, certainly; but I think I’ll walk
out to meet him, while you finish busi
ness, ready to accompany me. So au re
voir. He can’t be far away now,’ said the
naval gentleman, while tiie silversmith
bowed him out, and then returning, he
added, in the hearing of the shopkeeper,
‘You might get those goods packed; I may
send for them to-night.'
They w ill be ready, sir,’ was the reply;
and the feeble captain limped slowly down
the street, where he was [presently joined
by an inferior officer of his ship, with
whom he held nn earnest conversation,
that resulted in their calling a cab and
driving rapidly to an obscure street
Mr. Douglas bad finished his business,
had given the final orders for the night,
and ‘freshened himself up,' to use his
own phrase, ready to dine; and, it being
past his usual hour, be was impatient for
the stranger’s return ; but another hour
fiew by without his re-appearance, and,
thinking it possible he might have been
detaineu by unexpected circumstances, be
determined to go home, and, as he rode
along, it was a comforting assurance that
he had left tho goods at the shop. This
was a source of great satisfaction to him,
hut he now suddenly recollected that he
had not forbidden their being taken away,
and that his foreman heard the purcha
ser's final order, should ho return: it would
make assurance doubly sure, and yet he
could not doubt the honesty of his cus
tomer, or the correctness of his own esti
mate of that gentleman’s character, and
while he mused on these things he was
drawing near to home, where he deter
mined to go, have a hearty dinner, and re
turn to the shop.
It must be all right, he said, and yet he
was far from easy about the matter. It
was not late, the city dines so early, and
he might get back and find his newly
found i dative waiting for him at the shop.
This rather re assured him.aud he ascen
ded the stairs into the dining-room and
his wife’s presence, tolerably good humor
ed and well contented with the day’s busi
ness.
But it so happened/ for particular rea
sons, Mrs. Douglas wanted to dine oarly
that day, and here was he an hour later
than usual, and she consequently out of
temper. They ate in silence ; but, as the
dinner drew to a close, Mrs, Douglas
thawed a little.
‘How came you to buy to-day ?’ she
asked.
‘To what?’
‘To purchase a thousand pounds worth
of plate.’
‘Good God, wifo!' he shrieked, rather
than said, and, like a madman, the ‘wide
aw ake,’ the ‘shrewd’ Douglas raved about
the room—the light had burst upon him
in a moment, and had overwhelmed l.im
His wife sat and looked aghast, wholly
unable to guess the meaning of bis singu
lar behavior.
‘You gave it him V
’Yes, the thousand pounds—there is
your note, and here the key of your desk,’
said his wife, rising.
‘It isn’t mine,’ cried he, putting out a
bunch to compare them. ‘Alas! they are
alike though. I am ruined forever I'
U was a long time before he was suffi
ciently calm to explain; and ere he had
half done so, the last words of the depart
ing cooken in the foreman’s bear
ing, recurred to him, and he rushed fran
tically out of the bouse back to the shop;
but it was too late.
But few minutes elapsed between his
leaving the shop and the removal of the
hamper in a carriage with the one-armed
sea captain, who had doubtless watched
his departure. All efforts to trace the
nautical Douglas proved fruitless. Nov
could any clue be attained to his myste
rious possession of the key, or know ledge
that the notes which were only in the
desk one day, and would have been in the
bank the next, were in the keeping of Mrs.
Douglas. ,
Thus in one day was the man, who
vaunted his shrewdness, ‘done’ out of one
thousand pounds and an equivalent in
plate. When he next hears it said that a
roan must rise early to get the best of
him, we doubt if be will reply as before,
that ‘he must not go to bed at all, and
then it could not be done.’ Neither will
he claim so close a relationship to a chance
customer bearing the illustrious name of
Douglas.
Let’s Take a Drink.— ‘‘Letfs go and
take a drink, boys," said a well dressed
young man as the cars stopped at a sta
tion. And so the boys did, re entered the
cars with their language and persons
marked by the bar-room color.
Take a drink ! The young men were
well dressed fools. They have taken a
step which will bring a fearful retribution.
Years hence a thousand woes will blossom
in the footprints now made in young life.
A false light gilds the deadly miasma
which dogs their footsteps. They see not
the smoking altar towards which they are
tending. A host of shadowy phantoms
of vice and crime are hitting on before.
Red handed murder laughs at their folly,
and death is in waiting at the fresh open
ed grave. There are tears to shed by
those who at this hour dream not at the
sorrow these false steps shall biing upon
them.
Take a drink ! All the uncounted host
of drunkards, whose graves in every land
mark the pathway of intemperance, took
a drink. They took drinks and died. The
drunkards of to day are taking drinks.
Three out of four of the murderers of the
past year took a drink. Their steps were
towards the (.ram shop, and then from the
scatfold, out upon the fearful waste which
lies beyond. The palsied wretches who
totter in our streets, all took a drink.—
Families are beggared by single drinks.
Ilell is peopled by them.
We involuntarily shudder when we see
young men crowding the deeply beaten
path to the dram shop. They are all con
fident of their own strength. With the
glass in hand where coils the deadly ad
der, they ha, ha, about the fools who di ink
themselves to death I They boldly leap
into the tide where stronger arms have
failed to beat back the sullen flow. They
dance and shout in the midst of the grin
ning and ghastly dead, and riot upon the
reeking fumes of the grave’s foul breath.
They boast of tbeir strength ! And yet
they are but the reed in the storm. They
wither like grass under the sirocco breath
of the plague they nourish. A brief time
and they are friendless, homeless and de
graded. Another day, and the story of
their lives is told by a rude, stoneless
grave in Potter's Field.
Don't take a drink! Shun the Dead
Sea fruits, which bloom on the shore
where millions have died. The bubbles
which float upon the beaker’s brim, hide
the adder’s fang. The history of ages
points sadly to the maddened hosts w ho
have offered themselves, soul and body,
to the demon of the cup. The bondage
of the iron galls but the limbs. That of
the dram fetters the soul.
The Cotton Manufacture of Russia
has a development of which few people
in this country have any idea. Every
Russian peasant, male and female, wears
cotton clothes. The men wear printed
shirts and trowsers, and the women arc
dressed from head to foot in printed cot
ton also. When it is remembered that
Russia contains something like 33,000,-
000 of serfs,besides other classes amount
ing to 20,000,000, all using this article
more or less, one can estimate the demand
for cotton goods. This is supplied chiefly
by native labor, in mills containing ma
chinery made in Oldham and Manchester,
and superintended by Englishmen Irora
the same neighboring towns. There may
be five or six millions of spindles nt work,
spinning this cotton, together with the
weaving and printing of the same, which
forms indeed a large item, perhaps the
largest among the manufactui ing pro
cesses of Russia, and employs a capital
of one hundred and fifty millions of dol
lars. The largest mills are in the neigh
borhood of St. Petersburg, one of these
having some hundred and twenty thous
and spindles, and a few others having
sixty or seventy thousand ; but the great
bulk of the trade is in Moscow district;
and scattered about the land in that di
rection. The number of spindles there
may not be so great in any individual
mill as in some of the large St. Peters
burg establishments, but the mills are
more numerous, some of them nearly as
large, and all of them are of respectable
dimensions.
A provincial cotemporary says there
are hundreds of people who become re
ligious when danger is near, and adds:
“ We know of a man who fell from a
bridge across a certain river, and just as
he found he must go, and no help for it,
he hawled nut at the fop of hjg voice:
‘ Lord have tqerpy on me—and be quick
too 1' "
Evert door may be Bhut bnt death's
door.
Tuet are not reformers who simply ab
hor evil.
+ Prwmiiri Ji>urnkl.
Central aai' Imparlani Coualilrra
ti»u«.
The New Year is dawning upon tr»,.
and with it, new duties, and—thank God
• —new hopes. The past is gone and will
return do more. But its lessons live still,
and its ancient traditions. In the ne
glect of our traditional institutions—in
the attempt of sciolists to substitute he
terogeneous devices for the time-honored
customs of representative and responsible
government, we have been drifted away
from the admini trntive conditions of a
free people. The material prosperity of
the country, offering temptin' prizes to
the low intrigues of the lobby, managed
by men of whom t:r **’— 1
type, has accelerated and precipitated the
ruin that has overtaken us. The masses
have found in legitimate industry facili
ties for amassing wealth. In the absence
of any fixed social conditions, the coun
try being so young, wealth, mere wealth,
has seemed to measure the degree of so
cial consideration. It has, at least,
mimed to olfi r one accepted method of
attaining that destination, that is the vul
gar ambition. While the masses have
thus been occupied, the political adminis
tration has, witli rare exceptions, been
abandoned to knaves and fools. This is
not philippic, it is recitative, in its sim
plest form.
Are our democratic republican institu
tions, then, a failure? So far from it,
that it remains most certain that, for us,
they are the only institutions neutral,
and therefore the only ones possible.
We wish we could arrest upon this the
attention of a large class of gentlemen,
who, no doubt, think themselves wiser
and more far seeing than we, because
they have made money, while wt have
been otherwise employed. The break
down in the Government of the United
States has happened, not on account of
the democratic republican character of
our institutions, but despite of that char
acter.
Imagine, now, that the popular mind
of the United Slates, impatient of past
ills, and forming an imaginary idea of
what a monarchy' is, should seek such a
political transformation. The ideal the
ory is that one of the most cultivated and
nlde would be accepted as prince or em
peror; just so the ideal of the repblican
form is that the people will always ad
vance their best men to highest places,
irrespective of birth or adventitious ad
vantages. Everywhere, the ideal is one
tiling, the practical experiment some
thing vastly dillereiit. Those who sigh
for a strong government, fora monarchy,
must be prepared to take it as it may
happen—some baboon, accidentally in
the highest place, with a fox for his
prime minister—low animal instincts,
and low animal cunning. Such a re
gime must rely on brute force to sustain
it. Its satraps—military governors and
groveling contractors —will find means
to advance themselves in wealth at the
expense of the moneyed fools who have
hoped, by sucii a government, to perpet
uate their money influence. Their pre
tentious airs, which they mistake for ar
istocratic, will go for nothing, and they
will he plundered pitilessly by the rude
instruments of uncultivated and unscru
pulous power. Is this not certain?
Look at the Yankee brood who have
amassed wealth in this “ Massachusetts
war." Look at the beastly Butlers, Ac.,
Sec., Ac.—the military satraps—and at
the slioddy-Morgans from New England,
domiciled in New York, who have heaped
up fortunes, wliil ■ the widows and or
phans of tile soldiers who have fought
their battles are shivering in garrets, and
begging food on the streets.
Not in monarchic or aristocratic ex
periments, alien to our traditionary cus
toms, is our remedy to he found. It
must be in a return, nmi in a wise and
prudent restoration and perfecting of the
traditionary institutions that we have in
herited, that formed our prosperous
States, that belong to us. ami are natural
to us. Here, and in this, it must be.
Sought elsewhere, it will be sought in
vain.
In the infancy of the American States,
on achieving severally their indepen
dence, a Federal system was necessary,
to secure internal peace and develope
inent, and to guard against foreign en
roachment. To accomplish what, as
American States, we should accomplish,
some federative system is still required,
a general and common American policy.
In the various parts of the country, dif
ferent habits and sentiments existed from
the first. With the progress of time the
divergencies became more marked. A
broad and generous stateinansliip would
have understood and provided for this.
We could have done it, had it not been
Tor the narrow spirit, the persecuting
fanaticism, and the thirst for dominion,
in that New England Puritanism that
hanged Quakers, burned witches; and
banished Baptists. The children of the
Puritans have the virus in the blood.
They are the “ peculiar people.” They
insist on "dwelling alone"—would to
God they might be accomodated, on their
own bleak hills, and that their progeny
could be sent back to them to increase
their happiness! These Puritans have
no ideas of real liberty. They cannot
conceive of rights opposed to their own
notions. The earth belongs, by title, to
the saints, and they are the soints. Our
public schools arc filled with the primers
and hooks they peddle among us. Our
youth are infected with their narrow and
capricious notions, which they insist and
very probably believe, are the highest re
sults of Christian civilization! Imperi
ously, rigorously, wo must get lid of
these pernicious dogmas—dogmas that
are commended to the people as certain
and plain, because they are shallow.
We must return to the system of a
Confederation, or Fedoracy of States.
New Knglandisin must he exterminated
from our policy, if, to do it, we must
thrust out New England itself. Onr ex
isting Federal Union has broken down,
because on Administration ruled by New
England has thrust itself into place! The
Federal functions, as devised by the fore
fathers, and as prescribed and limited by
the Federal Constitution, are in abey
ance—to say the least. Federal action is
in a state of syncope, as the physicians
term it. It is paralyzed—totally inac
tive. Some imbeciles consulting what
Puritanism cads “ the spirit of the
Lord;" are playing fantastic tricks before
high heaven—in the abused name of the
Federal Government—but they are not
administering that benificent government
which our fathers handed down to us to
he preserved as a sacred trust.
VFhat, !M-rr, stre vc to. do! The act
ing powers of the Ebderal Government
have ceased to inspire confidence. Of
the three co-equal functions into which
that government was distributed, the one
most entitled to our reverence—the Ju
diciary—has been insulted, stifled, out
raged, by the Executive. The other,
fractional, and incomplete, functions of
government—the Executive and Legisla
tive—by openly ami shamefully violat
ing the Constitution by which alone they
exist, have annihilated their own title to
authority.
Iz ik: . not chaos, then * Is it not the
declaration of anarchy ? p " S'om it
The essential principle o! our American
political lifo is, and has always been,
State Sovereignty. In this, now is our
refuge. It is the State that has the legit
imate authority over person and properly,
the Common Law jurisdiction in regard
to all interests on account of which gov
erenment is essential to human society.
Most people in this country are aware of
this, though New England intrigue did
manage in a grave conjecture, to maneu
ver into the Presidential office an indi
vidual who, after he was elected, avowed
that he had never learned the ditference
between a Slate and a county.
The Union is, for the moment, para
lyzed, but the States remains to us. To
these, as lovers of order, we must cling.
We must sustain and strengthen the sov
ereignties of the States. When the
Union was formed, it was formed by the
States that freely accepted and ratified it.
All the States of the old Confederation
did accept the Constitution of the Union
—some «ith less, others with longer hes
itation. States can do again what they
have done before. Adversity has its
uses and will hare its lessons. All wis
dom has not died with our grandfathers.
Liberty, peace, and prosperity, aro what
we should seek. These we must secure
first by securing ami reasserting the in
dependence of our several States, and
then by a wise aud mutually forgiving
policy, by uniting again the great broth
erhood of Independent American States.
This is our duty. This is our hope!
• •- *
Each is his Siuieke. —Sir Humphrey
Davy changed the whole face of chemis
try, hut lie was not cut out for Prime
Minister. Thu reason why Benjamin
Franklin not only tamed the lightning,
but tamed politicians, and even inonarchs,
is that he had a great fund of good sense,
a rare commodity in these times. We
have heard and read much of Egypt,
Greece, Asia Minor, and the Holy Land.
Chateaubriand, Madden, Eustace, Lamar
tine and others, have written attractively,
hut the first aud last of these were travel
ing romancers, coloring all things with
their poetical fancies. The temples, tombs
and obelisks of Egypt for centuries mock
ed the traveling public with their myste
rious characters. The rocks of Sinai, too,
exhibited a strange language, wbicli none'
could decipher. Hero there were ruined
halls and palaces in the East—there were
subterranean works of art, curious and
instructive, into the depths of which none
had penetrated. Centuries had rolled
over them ; hoary Time had concentrat
ed them. Pages of history were written
in the earth, hut none could read them.
At length the man was found. Layard was
tlie man. He was to disentomb palaces
and temples from the sepulchre of ages.
He was to disiiijer Nineveh itself, and
make that ancient city stand in midst of
posterity ; Nineveh, that was destroyed
Guo years before Christ, or a century and
a half after Rome was founded. The
superior mind that educed order and
beauty out of these material ruins, ex
hibited its supremacy over the wild and
capricious Arabs, for they were wonder
fully managed and controlled to execute
the plans of I.ayard ; as well those in
power, as the subordinate rank and file
of the children of the desert. The genius
of the traveler, the antiquarian and the
philosopher are combined in him, and he
would seem to have a mind even for par
liamentary influence. We rejoice in all
the talent and genius of tho age, where
soever found. Wars must ultimately
cease, and peaceful pursuits everywhere
engage the attention of men. There are
citizens of tlie world who, like Humboldt
and Lyell, seek, in propagating scientific
knowledge, to make it avnilablo lor ce
menting the friendship of nations.
A Siiisim.astkk Story.— A shinplastcr
story has been localized here'and applied
to a popular dry goods dealer. The story
may have been in print, perhaps, but a
repetition would do no harm. As the
story goes, a farmer purchased a few
cents’ worth of dry goods, from this tra
der, and gave him a bill to make change
from. The latter returned him eighty
five cents in his engraved promises to
pay, gentcely known as checks, but vul
garly as shinplasters. “ What’s them ?"
inquired countryman, inspecting them
with great curiosity. “Oh,” said the
merchant, “ those are a sort of currency
we dry goods dealers have,” and went otf
to attend to another customer. The coun
tryman went otf, not exactly satistied,
hut soon after returned and bought near
ly a dollar’s worth of goods. After re
ceiving the neatly tied up package, and
being told tlie price, he deposited a num
ber of pumpkin-seeds op the counter.
“ What are those !" inquired the aston
ished merchant. “Oh,” replied the
countryman, coolly, “ them’s a sort of
currency we farmers have,” and there
upon left the store. The story lias it
that the dry goods dealer, who appreci
ates good jokes, was so amused he did
not call his unprofitable customer back.
—[Boston Herald.
A tki'e picture of despair is a pig reach
ing through a hole in the fence to get a
cabbage that lies a few inches beyond his
reach.
At a late break up of the tetotallers,
they were described ns retiring from the
temperance festival full of spirits.
A lady once entered a stage coach with
so much powder on her face that she blew
up the driver.
A max in Bristol was such an inveter
ate gambler, that lie not only lost all he
possessed one evening, but lost bis way
home.
If every care drives a nail In our coffin,
every merry laugh draws one out.
KVlHWiB
HI .1 Ml Ij .HJjypWM
The following thrilling ineklewt ef the
unsuccessful cmuge at PrqdmkkgmM,
is from the pen of a lorrevO^jHIjEhe
Missouri Hepubliran :
Parts of Sumner’s grand com charged
three times up the decliyityjfc,#!* rf
the enemy s works, and wmajg jdhm
repulsed with dreadful slaughter, Aipid
the groans of the dying, the shrieks of
the wounded, and the defiant cries ofthe
retreating column, which fell harif rhtrr
ing, “ Hurrah for General
could be heard above the roar of battle,
sometimes from our defented soldi era,
sometimes from the wounded, and often
from the dying soldiers. The fiercest
lighting in the center raged in front Of a
niiia, in
advance of the batteries of tba enemy.
The rebel infantry were sheltered behind
it, while their artillery played over their
heads. Imumliately in its front «mi
line of rifle pits, occupied by a smell force
of the enemy. The order was given to
charge this position, -and our troops ad
vanced upon the slope, when they were
greeted with heavy cannonading. Ap
proaching nearer, they received the fire
of the rebel sharpshooters in the rifle
pits, but undaunted, they continued to
advance, driving the rebels from the rfflo
pits, who disappeared from behind the
stonewall and in.tbe wooda beyond. ..
The advance continued; shot ard shell
with desultory musketry tore through
the ranks, but there was no fatterilig.
The gaps were closed up, and the long
line of bayonets approached within enef
hundred yards of the wall. The prospect
of its being captured looked pronlalng
and once taken it would afford oar UtM|Nr
protection in turn, and give good pool-'
tions for our field batteries. As yet.lfcer
enemy’s infantry had not shown these
selves. Occasionally a refugee'frogs the
rifle pits would arise and Sire and fbpn
scamper off to the rear; bat THI.kjitjf
musketry told that the enemy w«f« n*>
hind it in force. Within fifty yards Wu
reached. The pace increased to a rash,
and the line braced itself for the last en
counter. Suddenly a brigade of grey
coals arose from behind the wall; a long
line of bright rifles flashed in the sunlight,
then came a deafening roar. The ad
vancing columns received the leaden hail,
fell like grass before the scythe, wavered,
reeled, turned and lied, ’jfwo thousand
live hundred dead and dying were left
under the guns of the enemy, and fire
hundred fell before the shelter of a ra
vine was gained. The wall was aboat
six hundred yards in length, and every
foot of it cost us two men. It was the
battle of New Orleans repeated.
Ixtbllecti;At, Fokeiiandedness.—It is
an important element in all success in fife
to acquire the habit of being beforehand
with whatever you undertake. I can,
perhaps, best illustrate what I mean by
an example taken from another branch of
the subject. There are two friends, gen
- tlemen of large means, whose estates and
whose annual incomes are aboat sqaoA—-
One of theae is always short of mow;
buys everything on credit, and as tW
longest credit he can command, often
when traveling has to borrow money td
take him home, and really has to man kt
many turns and shifts to get akgig as if
ho were poor. All because he lives tweife’
months on the wrong side of his tacotttSj
The other inan, whose annual incoma find
expenses arc about the same as theme Of
his. neighbor, never has an open account;
buys everything for cash, always has
plenty of money in his pocket, and plenty
more in bank, and is apparently wkboat
a care in tho world, so far as money is
concerned. All simply because he Inus
just twelve months on the right side of
his income. The two men have nnusi
resources. In the course of their lives
they spend about equal amounts. Yet
the one is always poor and harrassed; the
other is always rich and at bis esse.
The picture has its counterpart in the*
history of many professional men. Some
men in their intellectual disbursements
are always beforehanded and at their ease,
while others of equal resources live ha
bituully from hand to mouth. You wilt
sec an editor scratching and scrambling
for copy at the very latest moment, and
living, it is to be feared, in great dread of
the office devil. You wilt see the profnSf
or quaking over his uncompleted experi
ments, or his half-finished manuscript;
anxiously dreading the summons to 1*6-
ture. 1 ou will see the clergyman locking
himself up on Saturday, to push
under high pressure,the sermon thatimtsC
be delivered qn the morrow.
These all, and others like these; simply
in consequence ot a bad habit of mental
action, pass through life in a perpetual
state of discomfort and professional pov
erty. Brain work so dong, is generally
badly done, and is done at a ruinooo
waste of the life-force.
The Glances or tus Girls. — 2f
there in the glance of a young girt f No
thing and everything— a mysterious abyss
—half opened and then suddenly etoeed.
There is a timo when every yoong girt
looks thus. The first glance of a mi
which does not know itself, is like a dawn 1
in the sky. it is the awakening of Sbofift
thing radiant and unknown. Nothing SOU
express the dangerous charm of this un
locked for gleam which suddenly irthm
adorable mysteries, and which is made op
of all the innocence of the present and tne
passion of the future. It is a kind of- ir
resolute lovingness whichJs revealed by
chance, and which is waiting. Itisaanara
which innocence unconsciously spreads,
and in which she catches hearts without
knowing it, and without intending it It
is a maiden glancing like a woman. It is
rare that deep reverie is not born ri this
glance whoruver it may fall. AU that is
pure, all that is vestal, is concentrated Is
the celestial and mortal glance, whisk Is
more than the most studied ogling si Iks
coquette, has the magic poweref sodMfc
ly forcing into bloom, in tho depth* Of tks
heart, this sweet flower of MU
of perfume and poisons, which Is oBsd
love. . ( '*
Fashionable society geoerafllr hashed
two faults : first, in being baUMr-fcakisi|
and secondly, hollow-hesrtsd, <
Modesty is generally the ootmfigigR fif
virtue, innocence, and real sbiilntfti,. -j $
To what race of gluts 4» tajmSb
long t The tigbt-uns (Titans).