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"(til fl. ?BjBeBMgjgaaBBSBBM ifi o ti o it (i a (T? S ff y H' Mirw A FAMILY NEWSPAPER?!Independent of Parly Politics or Religious Sects.?Devoted to News, Literature, Morality, Agriculture, the Arts, &c. %> ZBZ- ' B. SIEGFRIED, Eiiitor a.vi> Proprietor. S. SIEGFRIED, Juii., Assistant Editor. HORGANTOWN, (Va.) SATURDAY, OCTOBER 1, 1853. {Volume V.?Whole No. 21G. tnr. movow.AMA miruor ih puri.isiikd evkrv SATURDAY MORNING, AT THE roT.r.owrNrt term* $1 50 a Year Cash in Advance; 52 ooaftp.u six monthshaveexpired; 3*j 50 if never paid, without coersion. TERMS 0V advertising t For i square, 3 week*, ? ? $1.00 each additional insertion, ? 0.2.? For one ^narc, 3 monthi, ? 3-?0 no. G months, ? ? 6.co do. 1 ye:tr, ? ? 10.00 i for one column, minion type, 1 year, 30.00 i for Announcing Candidate*, each nunc, 2.00 l"ZT .vo paper will be discontinued until *11 ! jtrrnirv'eo .trn paid up, except at the option ufl tho PuMinIier. No subscription taken for a shorter period ! Ian sit month*. j For t!n Monongalia Mirror. | ass Acrostic: trmrrs^ ma Tirs album or mijj i. k. c. My mine would fondly wakti lor tbse, | In note* os*thrilling melody, Soma bnng of deep enchanting power Should cheer and fill the pacing hour. Say, Mias, with all thy winning way#, Unequalled charm# which poeti praise, my will those charm# their bliss impart, And cheer a sad and lonely heart! Nay, why should late those thot's represa! i My wish is all I dare express; Could wishes for a friend avail, On earth thy bliss should never fail. Of heaven 'mid scene# elyaian bright, My wish would wing its upward flight; Bo heaven thy home when life has flown, Sweet resting place ofloved ones gone. W. \V. t>. West Monongalia, Sept. 2s, 1S53. }'cr the Monongalia Mirror. ADVICE TO YOUTH. urrikcrojr, Monongalia county, Va.) September 15, 1 hi?j. 5 Mr. Editor?Permit me, through the medi um of your valuable paper, to communicate a fow thoughts, more particularly applicable to my young friend#. Beware of close intimacy with thoas whose tongues are calumnious toward almost every one except their present company, to which they are ever smooth and fair; for he that cal umniates and ridiculca the absent friend shows hi* company what they have to expect from him after he leaves them. Navcr laugh at the ignorance or mistakes of j others. Every person i# liable to mistakes in epeaking, writing or reading; therefore a# you do not wish to be laughed at yourself do not laugh at the failings of others. Vou would not hesitate in saving that it i# wrong to ridicule the bodily infirmities of persons. Is it not un becoming then to laugh at the errors of their education. Certainly it is. If you have had greater advantages in life than others, you ought to be grateful to God who gave you tal ent# and health, and to your parent# who aid ed you in the exercise'of them, in the attain ment of an education, lie not proud and haughty because your educntion ia superior to that of others. Remember that you were once as ignorant as they, and would most probably have remained so had you been placed in the earn* situation and surrounded by the same circumstances. Whenever you are applied to for informa tion on any subject which you understand, im part it without pride or ostentation, for a great display of pride and ostentation is a sure indi cation of a weak mind. 11. G. D. DUTCHY AHEAD. An old, plain-looking and plain-spoken Patch farmer, from tlio vicinity of the fielder burgh, in pursuit of dinner, the other day, dropped in at the Kxcelaior Dining Saloon, in Nassau street. Taking a veat alongside of a dandylissimo sort of a fellow?all perfume, mouatochios and shirt-collar?our honest Myn heer ordered up his dinner. " What will it he, sir t" asks white apron. "You got goot corncd-besf, bey ??? cays Dutchy. ? 44 Yes." 44 You got sour-krout, too, hey f" 44 Oh yea." 44 Yell, gif me soma both!" OtT starts white apron on a keen jump, and prlaeutly returns with the desired fodder.? The iiwr-krout was smoking hot, and sent forth iti< peculiar flavor, evidently satistacto ry to Mynheer's.nasal organ, and t' ice versa to that of our dandy friend, who, after the dish had beer, deposited on the table, and Mynheer was about commencing mi uttack on it, exclaimed: (i i?a?s;t\r, tuny fwiend?a-areyou gwoing to e at that stuff f" Mynheer turned slowly around, and looking at his interrogator with evident astonishment, says he, Hat it 7 Vy, of courso I eats it J" 41 Well," says the dandy, 44la?would as lief devour a plate of guano I" 44 Ah, veil," replied Mynheer, pitching into the soiirltrunt with an evident relish,44 d.it de pend* allogeddtr on how von rat brought up!" Dandy looked kinder caved in, and we left with the opinion that Dutchy was one ahead.? N. Y. Dutchman, TRUTH. V.'o should make it a principle to extend the hand of friendship to every man who dischar ges faithfully his duties, and maintains good order?who manifests a deep interest in the welfare of general society?whose deportment is upright, nnd whose mind is intelligent? without stopping to ascertain whether he swings a hammer or draws a tluead. There is nothing so distant from all natural cltim as the reluctant, tho backward sympathy, the forced smile, tho checked conversation, the hesitating compliance, tho well-off are opt to manifest to those a little lower down} with whom, in com pnriiou of intellect, the* oat wf;,?cu?aily s'.t.t INCIDENT OF BRANDYIVIXE. The foljowing interesting document was recently found among thn papors of Major John Shaefmyer, adecensed patriot of the. Revolution. It is a discount". de livered on the eve of thn battle of Aran* dywine. by lie*'. Joab Troutn, to a larjre. j portion of thn American soldiers. in the. presence of General Washington, General j Wayne and other officers of the army: EtcvoSutionnry Sermon. | "They that take the aword shall perish by the sword." Soldiers and Countrymbk:?We hare mot this evening, perhaps for the last tim**. Wi? have shared the toil of march, the peril of the. fight, and the dis may of the retreat, alike ; we have en dured thn cold and hunger, the contumely of the eternal foe, and thn cotirage of the foreign oppressor. Wn have sat, night after night, beside the ramp-fire; wn have together, heard the roll of the reveille which called us to duty, or thn heat of the tattoo, which nave the signal for thn hardy sleep of the soldier, with the earth I for his bed, and the knapsack for his pil- j low. | And now, soldier*, and brethren, we have met in this peaceful vall??v on the eve of battle, while the sun light is dving . away beyond yonder heights the sunlight j that to-morrow morn will dimmer on Fccnes of blood. We have met. amid the whitening tents of our encampment: in j the time of terror and eloom have gath- j ered together,?God grant that it may not be the last time. It is a solemn moment. Brethren, does , not the solemn voice of nature seem to j echo the sympathies of the hour? The | flag of our country droops heavily from yonder staff?the breeze has died away j along the green plain of Chadd's Ford? ; the plain that spreads before us. glitter- j ing in sunlight: the heights of Brandy*; wine, arise gloomy and grand beyond thn waters of yonder stream ; all naturn holds ; a pause of solemn silence, on the eve of ( uproar, and bloodshed, and strife of to- j morrow. "They that take Ike sVord shall perish br the ! ?word." And have they not taken thn sword ? I Let the desolate plain, the blood-sod-f de.n valley, the burnt farm-house blacken- \ ing in the sun, the sacked village, and the j ravaged town, answer; let the whitened : bones of the butchered farmer, strewn j along the fields of his homestead, answer; j let the starving mother, with the babe clinging to the withered breast that can I ofiord m> sustenance, let her answer with the death rattle mingling with the mur-! inuring tones that marked the last strug- | gle of her life; let the mother and babe j answer. It was but a day past, and our land slept in the quiet of peace. War was not j here. Fraud, and woe, and want dwelt; not among us. From the eternal s?li 1 tude of the green wocuU arose the blue smoke of the settler's cabin, and golden j fields of corn looked from amid the waste j of the wilderness, and the glad music of human voices awoke the silence of the j forest. Now, God of mercy behold the change. Under the shadow of a pretext, under the j sanctity of the name of God, invoking the Redeemer to their aid, do'these foreign hirelincs slay our people ! They wronu our towns?they darken our plain*, and , now they encompass our post# on the lonely plain of ChaddV Ford. Brethren, think me not unworthy of j belief when 1 tell jou that the doom of, the British is very near. Think me not | vain when I tell you that b-yoml the j cloud that now enshrouds us. I see gtith-j ering thick and fas:, the darker cloud and ! thicker storm of Divine retribution! They muy conquer us to-morrow.?j Might and wrong may prevail, and wo! may be driven from the field; but the 1 hour of God-'* own vengeance will come ! j Aye, if in the vast solitudes of eternal space, there throbs the being of an awful God, quick to avenge and sure to punish guilt, then will the man called George Brunswick, called King, feel in his brain and heart the vengeance of the eternal Je* hovah ! A blight will light upon his life ?a withered brain and an uccursed intel lect : a blight will be upon hi* children and his people. Great God, how dread the punishment. A crowded populace, peopling the dense towns where the man of money thrives, while the laborer starves; want striding among the people in all forms of terror; ail ignorant and God-ilef)ing priesthood chuckling over the miseries of millions; a proud and merciless nobility adding wrong to wrong, and heaping in hult upon robbery and fraud ; royalty cor rupt to the very heart, and aristocracy rotten to the coru; crime and want linked hand in hand, and tempting men to deeds of woe and death?these are part of the doom and retribution that shall come up on the KnylUli throne and thu English pMpW. . ! Soldiers?I look around upon your fa miliar faces with a slrangn interest! To morrow morning we go forth to buttln?. , for need I tell you that tour unworthj minister will march with you invoking God's aid in the fiijht?we will march to j the battle ! Need I exhort you to fiaht the good fi^'lit, to fiaht for your home steads, for your wives and children ? I My friends. I might urgn you to fight j br the (piling memories nf British wrong i ?-Walton?1 mi&ht tell you of your fath* 1 er butchered in the silence of the night on j the plains of Trenton ; I might picture his pray haiis dabbled in b!oo?1 j I might j wring his death shriek in y ur ears. Shel mire?I miirht tell you of a butrhered) mother, and a sister outraged, the lonely farm house, the n-cht assault, the roof in /lames, the shouts of the troopers as they dispatched their victims, thn cries for merry, and th?* pleadings of innocence for pity. I might pai t the?e all again, in thn vivid colors of the terrible reality, if1 I thought courage needed such wild ex eifement. But you are Mmng in the might of the Lord. You will nweh forth to battle on the morrow with light hearts and de termined spirit, though the solemn duty? the duty of avenging the dead?may rest heavy on your souls. And in the hour of battle when oil a round is darkness, lit by the lurid cannon Clare and the piercing mttslcet flash, when the wounded strew the ground, and the dead litter your path, then remember, sol diers. that God is with you. The eternal Got! fights for you ; he rides nn the battle cloud: he. sweeps onwards, with the march of the hurricane charge. God, the awful and infinite, fights for you and you will triumph. You have taken the sword, but not in the spirit of wrong or ravage. You hare taken the sword for your homes, for your wives, for your little ones. Fou have ta ken the sword for Truth. Justice and Richt, and to you the promise is?Be of good cheer, for your foe? have taken the sword in defiance of all that men hold dpar, in blasphemy of God?they shall perish by the sword. And now brethren and soldiers,*I bid you all farewell. Many of us will fall in the battle to-morrow. God rest the souls of the fallen. Manv of us may live to tell the story of the fiaht to morrow, and in the memory of all will ever rest and linger the quiet scene of this autumnal eve. Solemn twilight advances over the val ley ; the woods on the opposite heights fling their long shadows over the green of the meadow ; around us are the tents of the continental host, the oppressed bustle of the camp, the hurried tramp of the soldiers to and fro amid the tents, the stillness arid awe that marks the ev? of battle. When we meet again, may the shadows of twilight be flung over the peaceful land. God in hearen grant it! Let us Never Give a Kick for a Hit.?I learned ? good lesson when I was a lit tle girl, says a lady. One frosty morn ins; I was looking out of my window into my lather's barn yard, where stood many cows, oxen and horses waiting to drink. The cattle all stood very still and meek, till one of the cows, in trying to turn round happened to hit her next neighbor ; whereupon the neighbor kicked and hit another. In five minutes the whole herd were kicking each other with fury. My mother laughed, and said, "See what comes ol kicking when you are hit.'' Just so I have seen one cross word set a whole family by the ears some frosty morning. Afterwards il my brother or my net I were a little irritable, she would say, children, remember how the light in the bain yard began. "Never return a kick for a hit, and you will save yourselves a ureal deal ol trouble."?London Child's Com' jtanion. CP* Why is a watch-dog larger at night than ho is in the morning ?? Becauso he is let out at night, and ta ken \n iu the morning. Tho bell in the west tower of the great cathedral in Montreal, weighs ??1,800 lbs., and the tongue S40 lbs., tho whole costing t?l,000. One hundred atnl forty-two Rail road trains leuve Boston duily?the same number also returning. The yellow fever is spreading a long the Mississippi river. It is grad ually abating at Now Orleans. Sinco Spring, 5ISO gallons of li-| cjuor have been seized nud destroyed in Bungor, .\J?. POET 11Y. LI TTT. V. AT FIRS T, dvt mighty at last. BY CUARI.ES MACKAT. A traveller through a'dusty road Struwul acorns on the len, And one took root and sprouted up And grow into a tree Love sought its shade at evening tune, To breathe its early vow*; And ag" wan pleased in lieat of noon To bask bencutli it" bou^lw. The dormonse loved its dandling twigs, The bird" sweet music bore? It stood a glory in it." place, A blessing evermore! A lit lo spring had lost its way Among the grass and Tern; A piling straiiiroi scoojMid a well, Where wearied men might turn; IIo wulled it in and hung with caro A ladle at the brink, lie tin.ugh' not of the deed he did Hut judged that toil might drink, lie passed again, and 1"! the well Hv summers never dried, Had cooled a thousand parching tongue? /t iid H.ived a lile besiide! A dreamer dropped a random thought, 'Twos old and yet was new, A simple fancy of the brain, Hut strong in being true; It shone upon a genial mind, And lo! its li?ht became A lump of life, a beacon ray, A monitory dame, 'J'hc thought was small, its issue great; A watch-fire on the hill, It shed its radiance far ndown, And clivers the valley still! A nameless man amid the crowd That thronged the daily mart, Let full a word of Hope and Love, Unstudied from the heart. A whisper on the tumult thrown, A transitory breath, It raised a brother from the dust, It saved a soul from death. 0 germ! 0 fount 1 0 word of love! 0 thought at random enst t Yc were but little at the first, Hut mighty at the last! From the Berk* and Schuylkill Journal. Farewell to Tliee, Old Homestead. Furowcll t? thcc, old homestead, (?icen lindens, vines and tlowcrs, Where passed my sunny childhood, And all life's rosy hours; No longer can we claim thee, Thou art no more our own. Nor can we longer name thcc, As our beloved home. No longer may we nrstlc, Like doves around thy wall; For soon the steamer's whistle Will scream along our halls; How can wc bear to sec it, Without a tearful eye, The homo we held so sacred, Destroyed so ruthlessly. Ye heartless ones who've done this, Have ye m> homes, no tics, That thus ye lightly trample What we so highly prizt; ? There's waste enough around you, You might have made your own, And spared this spot of beauty, And not destroyed our home. My mother's spirit weepcth, Tears fall from yon sweet skies, And starts the llower that slcepoth, ltclore the glad sunrise; A sacrilegc it seemeth To every shrub and tree, And sad the moonlight irlenncth Where danccd it jo) fully. In thought sreure from danger, We lived to change around; Now soon the careless stranger Will lightly tread this ground. Those vines and loaded trellis, And fruits of kinds most rare, Soon other hands will pluck them, Nor fear their trainer's care. Farewell to thee, old homestead, A last farewell to thee; And mv departed parents, Who lived and died in thee, Each heart string round thcc clingeth, As memory turns to yore; And sad the song she singeth? This is thy homo no more. Pincgrovc, Schuylkill co. Hadassah. From Arthur's Home Gazelle. TIIE KUFfCOOF. BY MELTS' C. CAGE. Whisper it sol'ily, When nobody's near, Let not vjiHse accent* Fall h.nrsh on her car. She is a blossom. Too tender and frail For the keen blast? The pitiless gaic. Whisper it pnntlyt 'Twill cost the'e no pain | Gentle words rarely Arc spoken in vain; Threats and reproaches Tlio Btiibliorn may mov?? Noble the coiK|nost Allied by lovn. Whisper it kindly, 'Twill pay thee to know, Penitent tear-droin Down her cheeks flow. Has she from virtue Wandered astray T Guide her leet gently, H-jugh it the way. She has no parent, None of her kin, Lead her Irom error, Keep her Irom sin. Docs she lean on tlieo J Cheruh the trust;? God to the merciful Ever is just. IP" Kissing is all the liishion in Parugay.? The liulion lire very pretty and amiable also, for when limy hold up their Aicoa for a salute, they always take out their quids of tobacco, wd d^prtsi'?1* ?n the rim of your hit. TUB DVISG The wife over whom your love '? lulling. Niit beauty fiidine; Unit, now thai your heart js wrapt up in lieu boms;, would In? finiliin^. . Slic sees with quick eye your dawn I wig apprehension, mill she tries hard , to mnk? III;it slop ill'liar's clasti--. I Your trials ami your |?V(,S ti>irRitit-r i have centered yum- allections. "Vliey I nrc ,M,t ,lllU' u* when Vnli were a lime jimiii, wiilii spread iu,i| s,||?.,.(j j?| _ ; I licy have caught limn domestic at | tiiehments 11 liner tune mid touch ? They cannot shoot our temliil* I barren world soil. ami suck up ilienee j strenglheiiiiig nutriment They liavc ; grown miller the turrini; glass oflliu jhnme riHif, lliuy will imt now heurex (insure. j ^ mi ilu nnt now luiik men in the |face as >1 a lieiiit luuid was linking Jyuu?as if uciiniiuuiiiiy of fueling lay between. 1 here is a heart hum) that a I is.-i ins all others; There is a commu nity that monopolizes your feeling. | When die lieari I iy wide open, befure j it had grown upon and closed around particular objects,?it coul.l lasie strength and cheer from a hundred connections that now seem colder than ice. And now those particular objects alas for you!?are failing. j What anxiety pursues ynu! How you struggle to fancy there is no dan ger! How it unites now on your ear? the toil and the turmoil of the city.? It was music when you were elabo rating Comforts for the cherished oli Jecis when you had such sweet es cape when evening drew near. How it maddens you to see the world careless while you aro steeped in care. I hey hustle you iu the street ?they smile at you across the table; they bow carelessly over the way; they du not know what canker is at your heart, rite undertaker comes willi ]iis bill for the dead boy's funeral. Me knows your grief, lie is respectful. You bless hitn in your soul. Von wish the lau?h mg street goers were all undertakers. Tour cyiiJi.lbuvs the pt|vf;?;a,| ^ lie leaves your home; is ITo wise, ynff ask yourself; is he prudent? is ho the best? Did iie ever fail; ls he never forgetful/ You aro early home?mid af'er ""oil- l our step is nut light; it is heavy, tenible. They have sent C,r von; her eyes ball closed, her breathing long and in terru pled. ?She lu?nrs you; her eyes nro open; you put your hoiiil in hers; youi's trorchle?-Iter's does not. HCr Jij)S move; if is your uurne. "He strong," she says, "God will help you," Shu presses harder your hand? "Allien!" A long breath?another; you are alone atjaiii. Xu tears now, poor man yon cannot find them. Again home early. There is n smell of varnish in your house. A colliu is there; they have clothed lilt* body in decent giave chillies ami the underta ker is screwing down the lid slipping round on tiptoe. Does he fear to a wakeu ln*r7 He asks you n single question about ilie inscription upon the plates, rub bing it with his coat cuft'. Vein look him straight in the eye; yon motion to the door, you date not speak. Me takes up his hat and glides out stealthily like a cat. The man has dono his work well for all that. It is a nice coffin?a very nice coffin! Pass your band over it? how smooth! Some sprigs of mignionette nro ly ing carelessly in a litile gilt saucer.? She loves mignionette?. It is a good staunch tahlo your cof fin rests on, it is your table; you are a housekeeper?a man of family. Ay,'ftf family?krep down out-cry, orihe nurse will be in. Look at the pinched features; it is all that is left of her. And where is your heart now? No, don't thrust your hands, nor min gle your lips, nor grate your teeth together. If you could only weep. Another day. The coffin is gone out. The stupid mourners have wept ?what idle tears. She, with your cherished heart has gone. Will you have pleasant evenings at your home now? Go into the parlor that your prim housekeeper has made comfortable with clean hunrth and blazing sticks. Sit down in your chair; there is an other cushioned one over ngaiust yours?empty. You press your fin gers ort your eyeballs, as if you would press out something that hurt the brain; hot you cannot. Your bead leans upon your baud, your eyes rest upon the flashing blaze. Ashes always come after blaze. . ^ Go into your room where she wtis sick?softly; lest llio prim housekeep er cones aftei. They Iinvo put now dimity on her choir; th?/y havo hung now curtain* upon her IihiI. They have removed from flm stand its viols and silver tiel ?ilie perfume will not ollum! thesiek seme now. They have half opened flic window that f ho roorn so I on if closed ma\ have air. Ir will nor lie too cold.? She is nut there.?Reveries of a Bur.h e/or. From the .V, Y. Musical World tf Timts. HOItY N AM) BEKl'HSR. BY KAN NY FERN. WW a wrtrm Sunday ! and what a larg?' church ! I wonder it it will be '?all filled! Empty pews area sorry welcome lo a pastor. Ah ! no fear; i here conies the congregation in troops and families; now the capacious galler ies are filled; every pew is crowded and seats are being pluced in the aisles. The preacher rises. What a young ?David!' Still, the 'stone and sling' will do their execution. Mow simple, h?.w child-like that prayer; and yet how eloquent, how fervent. Surely, the father's mantle hath fallen upon the] son. How eagerly, as he names the! text, the eye of ench is rivetted upon' the preacher, as if to secure his indi vidual portion of the heavenly manna. Let us look around, upon the audi ence. Do you see yonder gray-haired j business man? Six days in the week, lor many years, he has been Mammon's most devoted worshipper. According to time-honored custom, be has slept comfortably in his pew each Sunday, lulled by the soil voice of the Shep herd who 'prophesi^K smooth things.' One pleasant Sabbath, cliancf, (11 would rathersayt an^veiruling Provi dence,) led him here. ' He setto him self ijj Ilia accustomeij Sund^HjMtude, f>iit ? slenjj cornea? not at his blading.? He looks disturbed;. The preacher is dwelling upon thewBtoiitted but Irau dulenl tricks ol liusffljiji men, and ex posiiiji plainly theft turpitude in?lhe sight ofthat God who'holds'evenly the scales ol'juslicei' As,he proceeds, con science whispers to ttfts.aged listener, 'Ihon art the man.' He moves nnnasi to his temples: what ri^lit has that boy preacher to question the integrity of men of such unblemished mercantile standing in the communily as himsell? He is not accustomed to such a spiritu al probing knife. Ilu spiritual physi cian has always'healed the hurt ol his people slightly.1 He don't like such plain talking, and sils Ihe service nut only Irom compulsion. But when h* passes the church porch he does nol leavP Ihe sermon there ns usual. No? f'loes home perplexed and thoughtful. "nscience sides with the preacher ; f-interest lri''s lo slide its voice with the sneering whisper ol 'priest craft.'? Monday comes; and again lis plunges into the maelstrom ol business and tries to tell the permitted lie with his usual nonchalance, to some ignorant custom er. but his tongue (alters and performs its duty but awkwardly j a slight blush is perceptible on his countenance ; and lb* remainder of the week chronicles similar and repeated failures. Again it is Sunday. He is rot b ctiurrh member; lie can stay at home, therefore, without fear ol a canonical committee ol Paul Prys lo investigate the matter; he call look over his debt and cr-dit list if lie likes, without ex communication; he certainly will nol pot himsell again in the way ol that plain-spok?n,stripling priest. The bell p-als out, in musical tones, seemingly this summons; 'Come lip with us, and we will do vnu good.' By an irresisti ble impulse lie finds himself again a listener 'Not that lie heHrv.es what that bovsays;' Oh nobut, some how, lie likes to listen to him, even tho' heallack that impregnable-Pride in' which he has wrapped himself up as in j a garment. Now why is this? Why is this church fi1 led with such wayside listen ers ? Whv, hill that all men?even the most worldly, and unscrupulous? pay involuntary fioniageto earnestness,sin cerity, independence and christian boldness, in the 'man of God!' Why! Because they see that he stands in that sacred desk, not that his lips may be tamed and held ih, with a silver hit and silken bridle; nol because preaching is his 'trade,' and his hearers must receive their.; quid pro quo once a week no, they all sen and leel that his heart is in his work?thai he loves it?that he comes to them fresh from his closet, his facc shining with the light of 'ihe Mount,' as did Moses's. Mr. Beecher is remarkable lor fertil ity ul imagination, for rare felicity of expression, for his keen perception of 'lie complicated and mysterious work ings of the human heart, and for the uncompromising boldness with which he utters his convictions. Hiiearnesl ness ol manner, vehemence of gesture and rapidity ofutterence, are, at times, electrifying; impressing his hearers willi tho idea Ihn'. luigvjge is too fitoor Unci monger a medium lor the rushing ijrie of his thoughts. ' Upon the lavish beauty of earth, ?'?, I md sky, he has evidently gazed with ! ? h?? poet's eye of rapture. He walk* he green earth in no monk's cowl of cassock. The tiniest blade of grasi with its 'drap 'o dew,' ha* thrilled him with strange delight. 'God is love,* i? written /or him in brilliant letters, on the arch of the rainbow. Beneath that 'dark-coat, his heart leaps like ft happv child's to the song of the birds and th* tripping ol'the silver-footed stream, and ?roes up, in the dim old woods, with th? fragrance ol their myriad flowers, in grateful incense ol praise to heaven. God l>e thanked, that tipon all thei* rich and rare natural gifts 'Holiness to the Lord' has been written. Would that the number of such gospel soldier* was 'lesion,'and that they might stand in the fore front of the hottest battle, wielding thus skilfully and unflinching ly the 'Sword of the Spirit.' The Maine Law Constitutional. The Maim' Law Advocate publish*^ es the decision of the United Statu* Court on the Constitutionality of th? prohibitory Liquor Law. The opin ion.of^bthc Judges of the Suprnme CniSKgfthe United States on the HcverR/points in this law may ha ion nil in the 5th volume of Howard'* Kepo^B|f decisions in United States CouraP^age /50-1. ChiSf Justice Taney said: "I&jny State deems th'dfeetail and inter?* traffic in ardent spirts injuri ous*? its citizens, and calculated to produce idleness, vice and debauch ery, I see nothing in the Constitution of the United States to prevent U from regulating and restraining the traffic, or the prohibition of it alto4 gtther if it think proptr Kfery State therefore may regu ts o\yn internal trafiic according ownijndgmeni, and upon fyjf. own viewswf the interest and well-be ing of its own citizens." (5 Howard 537.) Iff exerctS??>fihat great atHTcomprehen sivo police power which lies st the foundation of ^prosperity, prohibit the sale of it?" (5 Howard 51)2.) And in regard to the destruction of properly, lie said: " The acknowledged police power of a State extends often to the de struction of property. A nuisance* may be abated. Everything prejudi cial to the health or morals of a city may be removed Merchandize from a port where a contagious disease pre vails, being liable to communicate disease, may be excluded, and in ex treme cases, it may be thrown into the sea." ORIGIN OF TEXTS. The taking of a text seems to have originated with Ezra, who, accompa nied by several Levites. in a public coiigieuation of men and women, as cended a pulpit, opened the book of the law, and after addressing a prav? i?r to the Deiry to which the peopln Miid 'amen,' read in the law of Ciod distinctly, and gave the sense, and caused them to understand the ready ing. Previous to that time, the patrt iiicits deliveied in public assemblies either prophecies or moral instruction for the edification of the people. It was not until! alter the return of iht* Jews from Babylonish captivity, du ring which peiiod they had almost lost the language in which the Pentateuch was written, that it became necessity to explain as well as to read Scripture to them?a practice adopted by Ezra, and since universally followed. In latter times the hunk of Moses thus road in the synagogue every Sabbath. To this custom our Sav iour conformed and in a Synugogu# at Nazarelh read passages from the Prophet Isaiah ?, then closing the Iboqk returned it to the priest, and prquched from the text. The custom which now prevails all over the Chris tian world, was interrupted in the* dark ages, when the ethics of Aristot le; were read in many churches on Sunday, instead of the Holy Scrip tures. The following resolutions in refer ence to Temperance wero adopted by the Albemarle Association. 1. Resolved, That the traffic in in toxicating drinks, as carried on in Virginia, is a great political, social, and moral evil. 2. Resolved, That prompt and vig orous efforts should be made to sup press this evil. 3. Retained, That in the opinion of this Association, the only certain and permanent remedy for the ovils of ii?J temperance, is the entire suppression of the liquor traffic, except for Sacro mental, Mediriual, and Mechuu&ul jmrptowes.