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GEORGETOWN A WEEKLY NEWSPAPER —PUBLISHED ON EVERY THURSDAY MORNING. J. WI\G OLIVER, Editor mid Proprietor. Office, Main St., opposite Masonic Hall. TKRMH IMVA.RIAUI.V IN ADVANCE. For one year .$5 00 For six months *. 3 00 For three months 2 00 Rates of Advertising. For first in.-eition of 1 sqnare, or 10 lines. ,J 3 00 For ea< h s ibsequent insertion 1 50 Liberal deda lions for quarterly advertisements. BUSINESS CARDS. ,4 DAMS & CO., Express Agents, Gold Dust J\. Shippers and Bankers, Georgetown. [See advertisement. 1-tf BROTHERTON, THOMAS W., Counsellor & Att rney at Law. Office at the old stand o.i n slieet, opposite Williams & De Turk Livery Stable. All kinds of papers accurately d.awu on noderate terms,and all business prompt ly attended to. Ge.rget wn, Oct. 19,1954. 1-tf GEORGE, w. A., Attorney and Couasellor at Law. Georgetown, California, will attend promptly to all .msiness entrusted to his care in the District and County Courts, and also before Justices of the Peace in Georget wn and adjoin ing townships. Office on the west side of Main street, opposite the Georgetown Hotel, up stairs. Oct. 19,1654. 1-tf RAY, DR. F. G., Main street, Georgetown.— Office opposite Adams & Co. Oct. 26, 1954. 2-tf READ & CO., Bankers, corner J. and Third i streets, Sacramento. JNO. A. HEAD, ' THO. Y. READ. Oct. 26, 1654. 2-tf Iy ICHARDSON, A. M., M. D., Physician and V Druggi.-.t. Oflfue on west side of Maiden E. -.e, between Placer and Kenyon Streets. Georgetown, Oct. 19, 1854. * 1-tf EOGERS. S. L., Attorney and Coun-ellor at . Law. All business intrusted to my care will be attended to with promptness, and in the most legal and j dicions manner. Charges will be moderate. Georget .wn, Get. 19,1854. 1-tf SOCTHWORTH, E. C., Attorney and Conn _ ellor at Law. Office, corner of Placer street and Maiden Lane. Ge rgetown. Nov. 2, 1954. 3-tf TERRELL. JOSEPH C., Attorney and Coun sellor at Law, will promptly attend to all business entrusted to his care, in the different courts. Office, up stairs, near Lewis's Bowling Saloon. Georgetown, Oct. 19,1954. 1-tf TURNER, j., M. D., Physician and Surgeon, offers Ids professional services to the citizens oi Georgetown and vicinity. Fr -m his long ex- Eeriem.e in the di-eases incident to this climate, e feels confident of pleasing those who may fa vor him with their patronage. Office in Drag Store, next door to Adams & Co., Main street. Georgetown. 1-tf "TJ'ANDECAR, E. H., J. P—Office at the store V of Vandecar & Blackwell, Johntuwn, Cal i: >rnia. 6-tf XTrSLLS, FARGO & CO., Express Agents, TT 6 ‘ld D'.i.'t Shippers, and Bankers, George t >wn. [See advertisement.] 2-tf "XTTILLTAMS, A. P., Justice of the Peace.— T V Office at the Temi erance Hall on the west °ide >f Main 't’-cet, Georgetown, California. Oct. 19, 1954. 1-t A •of T —Georgetown Division, No. 42. ' ' Sons of Temperance, meets every Toes day evening, at 7 o'clock, in their Hail on M dn street, Genrget wn. All brethron in good standing are invited to at tend. W. A. GEORGE, W. P. James A. Sonoer, R.S. V t? i< w v »»It»—At the Union Church, Ge rget ,wn. Regular appointments of.l. Sharp, of M. E. Church, 10| A. M. and 7 P. M., every Sah at’i. Occasional supplies hy other Minis ters. Prayer meetings, Thursdays 7P. M. Sab bath S hool ■)] A. M. M'NEES’ ENVELOPES. V LARGE LOT, of Miners’ Self-Healing En velopes. Just publi hed by W. T. GIBBS, and for sale Wholesale or Retail. 3-tf J. F. SMITH, SURGEON DENTIST, Tenders his professional services to the citizens of Garden Valley and vicinity. *S“AII work warranted. Oct. 19, 1954. 1-tf J, toil' T, 'T. Reed. CONNESS & REED Corner M.iin and El Dorado Sts., Georgetown, dealers in HARDWARE, CROCKERY, * » PROVISIONS, and all articles suitable to the wants of a mining community. Keep con tantly on hand a general assortment, to which we invite the attention of purchasers. Oct. 19.1851. Ptf F. GRAHAM 8c CO., MAIN STREET. GEORGETOWN, XT THOLES ALE and Retail Dealers in Grocer ▼ V ies, Provisions. Hardware, Boots, Shoes, and Clothing. Also, Wines, Liquors-and Cigars, SW Highest orice paid for Gold Dust. Oct. 19, 1854. 1-tf CABINET FURNITURE. FURNITURE of every description made to order, with a neatness, durabil ty and dispatch, surpassed hy none, a few doors below Masonic Hall, Main St. Oct. 19, 1R54. PATTEN. 9 1-3 m Spanish Language. V'( ONTO >T. SF.RR tWO. PROFESSOR and Interpreter of the Spanish, French and English, offers his servi. e~ to the citizens of this town. Classes will take place at his residence. Nevada Hotel, and private lessons at home. W Terms moderate. Oct. 19. 1 tf TURNING LATHE. —The undersigned begs leave to inform the citizens of Grorgetown that he is prepared to do all kinds of Turning in the best manner and at the shortest notice. M. A. WOODSIDE. Gooiyrtxjwii. Oct 19,180*. GEORGETOWN, EL DORADO COUNTY, CAL., DECEMBER 7, 1854. Mameluke Hill. Nov. 20. Mr. Editor:—ln the following I think I have faithfully interpreted the* feelings of many heavy hearts in this neighborhood. If printed it will be sure to be received by a goodly number as “coming home to their business and bosoms/’ L. Written for the Georgetown News. Song of the Despairing. Ah! treacherous 1 ve, whose ’wildering ray With fitful gleam illumed my way, To mock my hopes in vain. Why should thy rosy-tinted dyes With witching pictures charm my eyes To leave all dark again? Too soon the enchanting visions fled, And hopes their rainbow promise led, No spell can e’er restore; But still their images return, And ardent thoughts my bosom bum. That fired my breast before! The warm desire so oft confessed, The melting love so oft expressed, In fancy live again; And memory struggles to retrace The scenes no time can e’er efface, And thus beguile my pain. Ah! could the dear delusion last, ’Twere bliss to live upon the past. Why does the cherished plant repay The culturer’s care with quick decay, While weeds perennial are? Why does the star at eve most bright, The soone t leave the darkling night, And naught endure that’s fair? Alas, poor earth! thy circling race With frailty taints thy varying face, And change infects the whole; As aimless currents of the air. The drifting clouds at random bear. So flows our fates’ control. Then why my destiny upbraid, My op’ning hopes so soon decayed, Or long my loss deplore? I'll join the ever shifting throng, On eddying dftrent borne along, And strive to grieve no more. But ah! my grief will ne'er remove, Though all things else unstable prove. L. The Power of the Pence. A TRUE MANCHESTER STORY. The Rev. J. B. Owen, M. A., of Bilston, I in the course of a lecture delivered in the Liverpool (’oncert Hall, in connection with ■ the Church of England Institution, upon Popular Insurance,” related an anecdote j strikingly illustrative of the power which | lies in the hand of the working-men to pro mote their own social comfort and indepen- ! dence. if they would only exert it. A Man i Chester calico-printer was, on his wedding ; I day. persuaded by his wife to allow her two | i half-pints of ale a day as her share. He I rather winced under the bargain; for .though j a drinker himself, he would have preferred | a perfectly sober wife. They both worked ! hard, and he, poor man, was seldom out of the public-house as soon as the factory | closed. The wife and husband saw little of | each other except at breakfast; but, as she kept things tidy about her, and made her stinted and even selfish allowance for house keeping meet the demands upon her, he nev er complained. She had her daily pint, and he perhaps had his two or three quarts; and neither interfered with the other, except at odd times when she succeeded, by dint of one little gentle artifice or another, to win him home an hour or two earlier at night, and now and then to spend an entire eve ning in his own house. But these w ere rare occasions. They hud been married a year; and, on the morning of their wedding anni versary. the husband looked askance at her neat and comely person with some shade of remorse, as he observed— “ Mary, we'n had no holiday sin’ we were wed; and, only that I haven’t a penny i’ th’ world, we’d take a jaunt to th’ village to see theemother.” “VVouidst like to go," John?” asked she, softly, between a smile and a tear, to hear him speak kindly as in old times. “Ifthee’d like to go, John, I’ll stand treat.” “Thou stand treat!” said he, with half a sneer; “has got a fortune, wench?” “Nay,” said she, “but Pn gotten the pint o’ ale.” “Gotten what?” said he. “The pint o' ale!” was the reply. John still did not understand her till the faithful creature reached down a stocking from under a loose brick up the chimney, and, counting out her daily pint of ale in the .shape of three hundred and sixty-five three pences, (i.e., £4 Us. 3d.,) put it into his hand, exclaiming— “ Thee shall have the holyday, John.” John was ashamed, astonished,conscience smitten, charmed. He wouldn’t touch it. “Hasn’t thee had thy share? Then I’ll ha’ no more,” said he. They kept their wedding-day with the old dame, and the wife’s little capital was the nucleus of a series of investments that ulti mately swelled into shop, factory, ware house. country-seat,a carriage; and tor aught Mr. Owen knew, John was mayorpf his na tive borough at last. Philosophy for Mechanics. —A cor respondent of the London Builder says that houses should be painted in the autumn.— Wood-work painted in October, he says, looks better at the end of four years, than, if painted in June, it would at the end of two, A dandy lately appeared in lowa with legs so thin that the authorities had him ar rested because he had no visible means of support, Mental Independence. To those naturally inclined to impatience and despondency, this sentiment is most en couraging. 11 a poor, despised worm can create so momentous a change, what ought not man. the most noble of Deity's greatest works—to accomplish without a murmur or a despondent thought. Too often, alas, mortals are but living dead men. moving without life, and living to all purposes in the arms of death. How few there are who really live; live the true, mental life, their own leaders, thinkers, act ors. Nor is this inaction of soul confined to any class, or sect, or profession of men, as such, but through all the ramifications of society we find its victims. In the family group are those who lead the remainder of the household in all the avocations. In the country villages we see Esq. A. or Dr. B. whose words go very far towards setting up an aristocracy of public opinion. Such men, whenever found, are apt in time to become overbearing in their habits, and act out their feelings of superi ority so as to make themselves odious in the sight of those who arc really true men. In the Church, and even in what ought to be the sacred desk, men are found who nev er had a dozen thcug/iis in all their life, but follow in the path marked out by the foun ders of their respective sects, without exer cising any considerable amount of indepen dent thought, from the beginning to the close of their earthly labors. They teach the same doctrine of servile obedience to thousands of thoughtless listeners, who be lieve as the priest commands, with a seal upon their judgment, and a standing veto upon the reason God gave—a talent to be improved. This is slavery and makes true the words: “Where laws are kings and men called free, Still a predestined slave is he, In one eternal cobweb bound, And fenced with statutes round and round, That thralls his actions, curbs his will, And makes them but a bondman still; An instrument in others’ hands, To come and go at their commands; . To do but what to do he’s made, A traitor by himself betrayed: He creeps along from morn till night, And never cares to walk upright.” In the world of politics, too. “the blind lead the blind.” The name of Jefferson ( r Jackson, of Adams or Clay, is forced into almost every political platform of the pres ent day—with as much confidence as though it was an axiom in politics that there could be no such thing as progress. Jefferson lived and acted the part of an independent man, amid circumstances far different from those that surround tiie independent states men of the last half of the nieneteenth cen tury. “Progress” is the banner of civilization, and the day-star of nations, and he wl o would transmit his name to posterity in the catalogue with Jefferson, Adams and Jack son, must do for his day what those immor tals did for theirs. They based no honor upon the fame of their fathers, but nobly did the work their country and age assigned. Iso if we, or any of us, would aspire to a fame like theirs, we must not allow ourselves to suppose it can be done by re-doing their work. Such a course is but a libel on humanity, a bur lesque on the age in which we live. The Statesman of to-day must stand upon the issues of to-day, if he hopes to benefit posterity by his public deeds. Virtue must be his guiding star, and his repose only up on the immutable pillar of Justice, Equality, Fraternity. The Jefferson of 1854 must surpass the JeS'erson of the Revolution, if he hopes to stand equal with that distin guished American, in the ages that are to follow. Principle must teach uncompromising in dependence. Compromises should never be made wjtb error or any principle of wrong; and yet, sacred compacts ought not to be broken, nor radical changes made in well established forms of government, unless de manded by those who are to be affected by the change. All history demonstrates that in Repub lican Governments it is dangerous for the agents or representatives of the people to pronounce finally upon any question of na tional interest, without first listening to the instructions of those whose wishes they are supposed to represent. If, then, a represen tative cannot execute the wish of his con stituents. and at the same time act in accor dance with his own convictions of right, it iscleariy his duty to surrender his office to one that they may select, and who w ill act in accordance with their wishes, and in har mony with his own judgment. Such ought to be the willing course of every American representative; and when the office is made to ask the individual, instead of the individ ual the office, such will become the necessa ry practice. Repudiating the Press.—The Roman Catholic Council in New York, has come to the conclusion that the connection be tween the church and its self-constituted or acles, should be publicly severed; and that if any organ was to be recognized, it should be placed in charge of competent theolo gists, and confined within the strict limits of theology. Therefore the Freeman’s Jour nal, the Celt, the Boston Pilot, the Irish American, and Brownson's Review, will, under this decision, be secularized or entire ly suppressed. [State Journal. Gifts.—Rings and other jewels are not gifts, but apologies for gifts. The only gift is a portion of thyself. Thou must bleed for me. Therefore the poet brings his poem; the shepherd, his lamb; the farmer his corn; the miner, a gem; the sailor, coral and shells; the painter, Ins picture; the girl, a handker chief of her own jJ-’mersou. The World Owes Me a, Living’.” “The world owes me u living, and IT have it.” says some blackleg, he finishes a luxurious repast; “here, landlord, another bottle of prime Madeira!” Half a dozen empty-beaded fops, who sit gazing on him by stealth in silent admira tion. hail the sentiment, with rapturous ap plause: —‘That’s it; the world owes us a liv ing. and we’ll have it! Landlord, more wine here! we won’t go home till morning! Let’s go it while we are young. Who cares for expense?” The consequence of this is, the pilfering of money drawers, the ignominious loss of employment, genteel Irtafcrism, <Src., <Src.. un til one enterprising gentleman, in eager pur suit of the “good living the world owes him” puts the wrong man’s name to his check, or in some way gels a ticket for the marble palace at Sing Sing, where the State pro vides a “living” for those it considers deser ving, but not such an one as consorts with their own estimate of their exalted merits. The great error in this case is the origi nal maxim. It is false and detestable. The world owes you a living! How owes? Have you earned it by good service? If you have, whether on the anvil, or in the pulpit, or as a teacher, you have required a just liveli hood. But if you have earned nothing, or. worse still, done little or no good, the world owes you nothing. You may be worth mil lions, and able to enjoy every imaginable luxury without care or effort, but if you have done nothing to increase the sum of human comforts, instead of the world owing you anything, as fools have babbled, you are morally a bankrupt and a beggar. Mankind are just awakening to a con sciousness of duty resting on every man to be active and useful in every day and sphere. All are called to dig, or hew, or plow, or plane—but every man has a sphere of use fulness allotted to him by Providence, and is unfaithful to his trust*if he deserts it for idle pomp or needless luxury. One maybe fitted by nature and inclina tion for an artisan, another for a sailor, but no one ever born is fitted for an idler and a drone. Those who become so are the vic tims of perverse circumstances and a deplo rably false education. But has not the rich man the right to en joy his wealth? Most certainly. We would be the last to deprive him of it. He has a natural and legal right to-possess it and en joy it in any manner not injurious to others; but he has no moral right to be useless, be cause he has superior means of being useful. Let him surround himself with all the true comforts and luxuries of life; let the master pieces of art smile upon him in his galleries and the mighty minds of all ages speak to him from his library. Let plenty deck his board, and the faces of those he loves gather joyously around. Lot him possess in abun dance the means of satisfying every pure and just desire of his nature, and become wiser, nobler, larger in soul than the less fortunate neighbor. But let him never for get, and if he is properly trained be never can. that it is his solemn duty to be useful to his fellow creatures, especially to the de pressed and suffering—to labor for their benefit, and-suffer, if need be, for their ele vation. '1 he servile idolatry with which ignorance and vulgarity have looked to power and wealth, the hosannahs which the trampled millions have sung before the cars of con querors and other scourges of the earth— are fading, flitting, forever. In the twilight which succeeds this gross darkness, there comes a season of moral anarchy, when men having lost faith in the juggles' which once blinded and bound them, resolve to believe nothing—to decry and prostrate all that ri ses above its lowest level. An Acoustic Telegraph. An item, clipped from an eastern paper, has been slipping the round of our State press to the effect that a young Frenchman named Charles Bourseul, now at Paris, en tertains the idea that persons may talk by telegraph, from experiments made by him in the electrical transmission of the voice.— It was unnecessary to travel beyond the confines of our own State to obtain matter for a notice of such an enterprise. A young man—an American—resident in this city, has succeeded in transmitting the tones of the voice a distance of about one mile by means of instruments, so perfectly, that the enunciation is distinctly heard and the speaker identified thereby. By the same means the notes of a musical instrument have also been conveyed with such fidelity that the tunc wat readily recognized. His experiments commenced about eighteen months since, and progressed as his means would allow until the fire of July last, when his instrument upon which he had expended great thought, labor and expense, was de stroyed. The inception of the idea was formed by him in an attempt to communi cate by sound with a deaf friend through the medium of the teeth of the latter. Af ter repeated experiments, he succeeded in constructing an instrument by which his ordinary tones were rendered audible to his friend. Immediately he conceived the idea that his discovery could be made available in the transmission of messages to distant points, and commenced his experiments to that end. In order to test the matter more satisfactorily he constructed a line, extend ing it finally nearly a mile in length on a ranch in this vicinity, .and prosecuted his labors as opportunity and circumstances would admit,with the above flattering result. About tw o months since he filed his caveat for the invention, and sent to the East an order for the construction of an instrument more nearly perfect than he can attain here. Whether or uot Uio inveatioo is applicable lo groat distances, cannot beascertaincd . " ccpt on the completion of a more extended line, but judging from what he has effected he is confident of its capacity in that rela tion. 'i he comparative cost of a lin • o acoustic telegraph so constructed would lx about one-third more than that of the elec tro-magnetic telegraph now in vogue—ill instruments would cost about the same As it would not be affected by electricity in the atmosphere, it would be preferable to the present mode of telegraphing in that re spect, it in no other, and probably surpass in availability the invention of the French man. The inventor during the period men tioned, has been in humble circumstances, in ill health a large portion of the time, and in no slight degree a sufferer by lire. Is there no millionaire within hail who car, find liberality enough to foster such an en terprise for the credit of the country? [Sac. Union. As the Vesper star mounted to her glo rious throne ot eflulgence. and announced the advent of ebon right, and stillness and gloom, a poor lone man—a poverty-stricken laborer, who could scarce maintain himse l ai d children by his utmost exert ions.wa'k- d sadly out into a grave-yard, as being const - uaut to his mournful reflections. He look d on the proud mausoleum and on the lowly headstone; and then knelt down on the green turf, beneath the waving leaves of a weed ing cypress, and with clasped hands, and up turned, eyes, he brokenly breathed his com plaining prayer. ,- 0, common Father, who art just aid good, why dost thou allow innocence to we; r the grating chains of oppression, while fraud and injustice sit proudly in the princely chair of luxury and indolence? Who giv eth strength to the arm which makes stub born resistance to thy laws; while the zca: which most venerates them, groans at the feet of tyrants? Why are the*rich left to rejoice in their ease, while the poor moan in their stintedness?” His ungovernable emotions choked his further utterance. He bowed his head upon his hands, and gave way to the grateful re lief of tears —the silent eloquence of woe.— But see! he stands erect, and gazes sti angely around, and listens. Again that small voice, with melting music, falls on his car, saying: “Mortal, cease thy complaints! Is sin woven earth thy llnal resting-place, or hut a momentary tabernacle? Look up, and be consoled. There is a crown for th.ee in waiting —a mansion for thee, eternal in the Heavens. The furnaces of hell are now all aglow for the miscreants and all evil doers of earth, whether in tatters or in purple.— Look up, and rejoice; for your reward is ev erlasting—while your afflictions are but as a passing dream.” The voice died sweetly away, like the tones of a rich harp-string, and the man stood transfixed with surprise. Su Idenly starting from his trance, he leaped -or joy, and shout ed in the gladness of his soul. Having re turned home, all things took a new aspect. The garments of indigence seemed fine Un til, and his scant supper was like rich mor sels to his taste. U nhappiness fled away, and henceforth he rejoiced in whatever be fel him, and thanked God for life. [Waverley. Benevolence and Happiness.—A life | of passionate gratification is not to be com- j pared with a life of active benevolence.— God has so constituted our nature, that a man cannot be happy unless he is, or thinks he is, a means of good. Judging from our own experience, we cannot conceive of a picture of more unutterable wretchedness than is furnished by one who knows that he is wholly useless in the. world. Give a man what you please, surround him with all the means of gratification, and yet let the conviction come home to him. clear and irresistible, that there is not a being in God’s universe a whit the better or happier for his existence; let him feel that he is thus a blot upon, because a blank in the universe, and the universe will not fur nish a more unhappy being. Herein lies the solution of that to many inexplicable fact, that the schemes of mere selfishness, however wisely laid, however energetically and successfully prosecuted, never add to the joys but always to the pains of those who originate and are engaged in them. It is not so with a man of oppo site characteristics. -Take frem him what you please, and you do not take from him the elements of his joy, if you leave him the conviction that in any way he is useful. If yon contract the circle or diminish the sphere of his usefulness, you detract from his joy only as you detract from his means of doing good. And. as we 'cannot con ceive of a more wretched being than one who feels himself to be the slave of an un controlled selfishness, so we cannot conceive of a happier being than a man of truly be nevolent heart, whose wishes describe the circle and bound the sphere of his influtnc , and whose means are ample to give those wishes a full expression. Ireland. —A return just issued of the population of Ireland shows that the num ber of inhabitants has fallen off H o millions in the past five years. In the year 1805 the population was over five millions; in 1814, six millions; in 1824, seven millions; in 1837, eight millions; in 1846, eight mill ions three hundred and eighty-six thousand nine hundred and forty; and in 1851, only six millions five hundred and fifty-one thou sand nine hundred and seventy. A submarine telegraph has jnstbeen com pleted from Holyhead to Howto, Hyland. [N. Y. Tribune. The Pier Man’s Murmur. SiiAMYii.— 'l'liis great enemy of Russia is thus spokenof by an European correspond ent of the National Era: “Shamyl is said well to know liow to com mand the respect due to bis dignity, anti without which no person can. in the eastern world, preserve ami increase his authority. Too much condescension is far more danger ous than even cruelty, on the* part of a per sonage of elevated rank. Shamyl. when ap pearing in public, is always surrounded with a splendid body of horsemen. But when any important decision is taken, then he withdraws to some retired place, where he remains several days occupied, as ’it is alleged, in fasting and praying. The com mon people believe that the holy Murschid is then engaged in private consultat ons with the Prophet, or with Allah himself.— As soon as Shamyl - makes his appearance again, he convokes his most confidential ad herents and communicates to them his reso aitions, which are received as heavenly rev- J It is said that Shamyl is no hypocrite; buthe »elieves, atreeabie to the Sufi-doc ti.ne, that his own meditations are div ne aspirations, inlusod in him in order to direct aim how in the best way to accomplish his divine mission. W e may, however, not commit any great injustice in looking upon him as somewhat ot a hypocrite, and some what of a fanatic, deceiving others while nimself deceived by self-delusion. But it is. indeed, this which makes him still more for midable as the military chieftain of a half civilized people, the more ready to sacrifice its blood in the most desperate struggles, as it supposes itself being under the lead* r ship of a particular favorite and confidant of Heaven. Shamyl is described as a man of rather low stature, with fair hair and gray eyes, possessing an expressive countenance,beam ing with intelligence and courage, a small mouth, a straight nose, small hands and feet and a firm step. His tranquility of mind and calm appearance remain unchanged, even in the midst of the greatest dangers. Only when he speaks at public meetings to the people, his face seems as if his soul vas a i i;ro. Then, the Circassians say that ‘ ilames issue forth from his eyes and flowers .rom his mouth.” Only a Trifle. — A little word ca’m’y spoken is a tritie, but upon that syllable there may depend the lives of hundreds 'u e interests, the weal, the woe of a while na tion. It may be a curse and it may be a blessing. An acorn is a slight thing, but from it large forests grow, and men repi se beneath the progeny of a seed, which the angry zephyr tossed and whirled in its ed dying tide as a mere plaything. A look given by a stranger is a trifle, but it may lead to a friendship, to a love, to a marriage, and to the production of inti it sts which shall follow and be felt in an elcraitv bovond the. grave. A smile is a mighty commoi thing. It is given and returned* 1 1} as: every day, yet the time has been ’wh • kindly one has shed a glory on a cloud.-d heart, and caused it to bless the lips the, bore it. “A flower given hy one we love Is prized iar more than spiokling gem.'; A smile, a look, a gentle word, 0 1. 1 weighs the costlie-t diadems. Then why should we thee tii :e- call, Which make the sum of life, the all That man doth live for here below, And make him joy or sorrow know.” The March to the Grave.— What a mighty procession has been marching to ward the grave during the p ist year; At the usual estimate since the Ist of January, 1853. more than 31,f-00,000 of the world's population have gone down to the earth again. Place them in a long array, and they will give a moving column of more than thirteen hundred to every mile of the globe’s circumference! Only think of it; ponder and look upon these astounding computa tions! What a spectacle, as they “move on,” tramp, tramp, forward upon this stu pendous march! Life is short and time is fleeting, And our heart- th ugh strong and brave, Still like m tiled drums are beating. Funeral marches to the grave! [Golden Era. Cost of Public Worship.— A Boston paper says that it is estimated that the cur rent expenses of the churches in that <ity will amount to §210.000 a year. 3'he value ot the church estates is about four millions ot dollars. The expenses of the different societies varies from §ISOO to §£soo a year. The cost of public worship iu the churches occupied by the wealthier portion of the cit izens averages about a hundred dollars a .Sunday. The clergyman has a salary of §3,000, the music costs about. §I,OOO, and the other expenses from §I.OOO to §luCo a year. The rent for the pews varies from §8 to §7O a year, according to the r value. The Methodist preachers have the smallest average salaries, and the Unitarians the lar gest. The Connecticut legislature has a bill before it for taxing geese, cats, and bachel ors. During the debate upon the bill, a Mr. Harrison stated he was opposed to it, be cause “there was already a tax laid upon a goose, and any man who had lived to twen ty-five without marrying, could be taxed un der that setciou.” noble stanza is from a poem in the National Era, on the death ot Daniel Web;ter: How well he fell asleep! Like some proud river winding toward tlie sea; Calmly and gradually; silently and deep; Lge jomed eternity. NO. 8.