Indiana American, Volume 10, Number 14, Brookville, Franklin County, 1 April 1842 — Page 4

A TALE.

TALE OF THE EARLY CHRISTIANS FROM A LADY'S SKETCH OP CORFU.

In the reign of Marcus Aurelius Antonius,

there lived in Rome a good old Senator who

had two daughters. Veronica and Berenice were noted, less for their beauty and gentleness than for the extraordinary resemblance they bore to each other and for their mutual affection. These girls were twins their mother had died during their infancy, and it was found, after her death, that a mother's eye only

had been able to distinguish the children. Had their father, Flavius Torquatos, bestowed much of his time and attention to them, he might have acquired the same power of discrimina

tion- but the noDie patrician s nours were aivi

remember his patrician prejudice. . Surely this step" ' ' "Go dear sister," answered Berenice, mildly,

yet firmly, "for the love that you bear me, do

me this errand. I would not any other eye should mark the weakness I fear to betray at parting with one whom my father has com- ! manded me to love. Tell thy father I am un

well and it is true my bead and heart ache go dearest." And Veronica, unconvinced, yet

. "My sister," she faintly murmured, as he ! moved away; but Flavius answered, "You will never see her again; you would infect her with

your superstition. I cannot be left childless in my old age." And the old man went, and as the last sound of his departing step died away,

Berenice thought her worst trial over, and she

BRONCHITIS! BRONCHITIS!

Beware of that dread destroyer &3-THE BRONCHITIS-Jrf

WHICH spares neither the Young, the Good, or the Beautiful, but is annually hurrv-

withdrew her thoughts from the world, andjftig thousands upon thousands to a premature

sought to prepare her soul for death.

Late in the following day the people of Rome

persuaded by the tears of her sister, which in assembled in the amphitheatre, to witness the

truth were flowing fast, left her alone

Berenice resumed her reading, but not for

j many minutes; she arose and shut tne volume,

"Wot thus, not thus, witn aiviaea auenuuu, u Willi WftnrljarilUT thniiwht. mav I Dresume to

unuv O " J I read this holy record." She placed it within a ' small golden casket, locked it carefully, and then walked forth into a balcony, on whieh the

aa lottrwn ihp senate Vinnf and tlio ennrt: -windows of the aDartment onened- The moon

and when he came home at night wearied, he ' had just risen, and shed soft "light on the magwas well enough pleased to play with those nlficent building of the eternal city; the cool, two sweet little girls, without further troubling thin air swept over the brow of the maiden, himself concerning them. And vet he was a': and calmed her agitated thoughts; she had a bit-

kind father; he entreated his widowei sister to ter trial before her, for she was about to inflict was tne surprise of all present, when they be-

a ueep wouna on me neari 01 one w uum uc loved with all the innocent fervor of a girl's first affection, and she trembled as she pictured to herself his surprise and sorrow. Then Berenice looked up at the quiet of the evening sky, and thought of the time when earth's interests would be over for her; and could she

martyrdom of the christians. Horrible deaths

they died. Some were torn to pieces by wild

beasts; others were burned by a slow firejsome were crucified, and they counted such death

an unmerited honor. Berenice was reserved to the last, and because she was of Roman and patrician blood she was to suffer the milder punishment of decollation. The sign was given, and when it was proclaimed by the herald that the Christian maiden was coming forth, there was so deep a silence among that vast multitude, that even the advancing steps of the

girl and her conductors were heard. But what

take up her abode with him, that she might

take care of the children, he allotted for their use a magnificent suit of rooms, he purchased for them a numerous train of elaves. Veronica and Berenice had scarcely a wish ungrati-fied.

As they increased in years, the remarkable J similarity of their persons remained undiminished, but their characters became essentially different. Berenice was pensive, gentle, it might be somewhat melancholy studious, and fond of retirement. Veronica was volatile, giddy, of quick and warm affections yet did these points of difference not lesson their fond

affection

thus look, and thus think, and thus hesitate?

Ah; no! When she heard the step of Lucius drawing nigh, she plucked a single flower from a creeping plant, that overshaded the balcony, and keeping it in her hand as a token to recall

her better resolutions, she advanced to meet

him.

:It was not for this I sent for you hither,"

They had completed their sixteen years, she said in reply to his passionate expression of . 1 . 1 i . a . i a "l i tl Y -a1j4ia

when among the presents brought by their

father, oa his return from a visit to the east, was a young female slave of extraordinary intelligence and merit. She soon became the favorite of Berenice, and the noble young Roman would frequently recline for hours on her couch, while the slave beside her occupied at her embroidery, would tell her tales of her own

family and native land. She wept when she spoke of her peacful home and aged parents, and Berenice felt as though she loved the girl

the more for her fond regret. She asked for

what cause her liberty had been forfeited, for she knew that Alice had not been born a slave;

but on this point she could gain no satisfaction

Berenice would not pursue the painful subject,

but her sister's curiosty was not so easily sup

pressed. She questioned her father, and the

reply of Flavius made both his daughters start

with horror.

' It was for a crime," he said, "for a crime of

blacker nature than you can conceive; for s crime that merited death: but I pitied her youth

Nay," he continued, '-be not alarmed, she can

not, will not injure you; she is gentle and

skillful in the healing art for this reason I have

her about you. And you are Romans and

noble Berenice you will not descend to undue

familiarity with a slave."

BercrTce remambererl this injunction she

meant to obey it; but shortly after this conver

sation she was attacked by a painful illness and

during the tedious hours of sleepless nights.

she could not refrain from desiring Alice to tell her stories, and sing her songs, as she had been wont to do. Often and often, as she

watched the quick, soft step of her attendant, and compared her unwearied assiduity and gentle activity with the indolence and carelessness of her other slaves, she wondered what could be the crime of which so meek and unoffending a creature had been guilty. One night she felt worse than usual, and had persuaded her sister to retire for a while; she lay perfectly still meditating on the past and on the future, that fearful future, of which she knew so little, and which she much dreaded. Alice

kneeling by her couch, and believing her mis

tress to be asleep, she prayed in a soft voice to

the God of the Christians for her recovery. Berenice listened in still attention; she heard

to her surprise, the meditation of a being im

plored, of whose very existence she was igno

rant. She saw Ahce arise at last, an expres

sion of resignation and hope in her meekly raised eyes, which she never had witnessed in

the votaries of Jove. She called the trembling girl to her side, and bade her quickly explain

her sacred faith. Alice she knew the danger

she would incur for both and some remains of

the fear of man yet lingered about her heart.

But she conquered the unworthy feeling, and

drawing from the folds of her robe a roll of

parchment, she read aloud to her attentive au-

ditress the record of the most surprising events

in the history of mankind.

Many months had passed awa One evening the sisters were together in their own apartment. Veronica stood before a mirror, her

vest of satin, her flower-wreathed robe, her

zone of brilliants, told that she was preparing for a festival. At the farther end of the room Berenice was seated. She was arrayed in a plain white dress and her long hair fell unbraided, in its own luxuriance, about her throat and shoulders. "With one hand she folded a snow white dove, and ever and anon her dark hair fell over the gentle bird, and it nestled lovingly within it; the other tested on a parchment

which appeared to engross the maiden's deep

est attention. 'Come, now, Berenice," said her sister, play

fully fixing thewreath of roses, prepared for herself, on her sister's brow, "lay aside for once

your melancholy book, and send your dove to his rest, and come down with me to the banquet." Berenice looked up and answered gently: "Not so, Veronica not to-night. It is the anniversary of poor Alice's death, and did she not die for love of me, watching and waiting when all others slept? Her image has been with me through the day; I cannot join the ban

quet with my heart full of sad memories.

Leave me sister," and Berenice took off and re turned the wreath. "Yet listen one word more. Thou know

est who will be there this evening. My father will frown, and Lucius Emilius will sigh when

I go in alone. Lucius departs to-morrow for

the battle; ana shall he go without one benison

lrom his affianced?"

"No," replied her sister, speaking low, and faltering, "you, Veronica, will tell him that I

wau to see rum here before his departure " T . - . .

regret and love, "you are a Roman soldier,

Lucius, and I know it was neither your destiny,

nor your wish to be ever at a lady's side. Believe me, I have learned to look on this parting

as on a thing inevitable," but ever as she spoke

her voice faltered. "

Lucius leaned forward to console her, to

whisper of re-union: "Your father has promis

ed, dearest," he said, "that this campaign once over, the Marcomanni once defeated, I shall be

rewarded, at my return, with the hand of Be

renice."

"It may be so," she answered sadly, "if you

still wish it."

"If I still wish it! Berenice of what are you

dreaming?"

"I am not dreaming, Lucius Lmilius; I am

speaking the words of sober reality. on think

of me, as of the beloved daughter of r lavius Torquatos the co-heiress of his wealth and

honors, of one whose hand will confer distinc

tion. If, on your return from Germany, you

shouid find me disponed of all these advantages.

an alien from my father's house, it may be from

his heart, scorned and forgotten by my friends.

despised by mankind "

"You would still." renlied Lucius, "be to me

i the same Berenice, whom in her hour of pros

peritv I had vowed to love and cherish. But

what can be the meaning of your terrible words?

Why do you torture yourself and me by such

utterly vain imaginings.

Berenice withdrew from the encircling arm

that supported hen she leaned against the slight

column of the verandah; her voice was softer than the softest whisper, yet every word fell

with terrible clearness on the ear of her lover "Lucius Emilius I am a christian!"

Lucius went forth that night from the cham

ber of his betrothed an altered man for the chill of disappointment had fallen on his proudest and fondest hopes. He had tried with all

his persausive powers to induce the gin to forsake her new opinions he had tried in vain; so now nought remained for him to do, but to

fulfill the engagements to which his honor was

concerned, and then to return to love her still and to protect her, if necessary, with his

life. He bore with him two precious gifts to

console him in absence, as far as any thing could console him the golden casket and the carrier dove.

Berenice was again alone not, as hereto

fore, in the solitude of her own luxurious apart

ment not surrounded a6 she was wont to be,

with her books, and music, and flowers; she was alone in the solitude of a gloomy prison

chamber. A small apertuie near the ceiling, guarded by iron bars, admitted just light enough

to show the dismal emptiness of the place no tapestried hangings to hide the cold damp walls,

no warm carpets to cover the stone floor. It contained only a low couch, and on that the

maiden was seated, sometimes raising her clas

ped hands in the deep earnestness of prayer, sometimes covering her red and swolen eyes, to hide it might be from herself, the tears she

could not restrain. Presently a low knock was heard at the door, and her father entered. Be

renice shuddered and said, "Not this oh, let me be spared this worst grief! Yet, no the

sacrifice must be complete; give me only strength to bear it P Then she advanced, and

led Flavius Torquatos to her couch, and meekly kneeling before him, prayed him yet once

more to lay his hand upon her, and to bless

her.

The old man answered, "It is not for this I

come, unhappy girl. I come to tell yon that

all my entreaties have been in vain ; the orders of the emperor must not be disobeyed, and his orders were, that all of your fanatical sect should be exterminated. Were Marcus here

the tears and prayers of his old faithful servant

might avail; but he is beyond the Danube. Tomorrow, a general execution! Oh, Berenice! my child, my child! must I live to see vour

blood flow forth by the hand of the common

executioner?"

"I came not as yesterday," he continued, af

ter a long pause, "with tears and entreaties to

move you. Yesterday, I knelt to implore you

to save your father's heart from breaking and

in vain! To-day, I come with harsher purpose

You asked me but now to take you in my arms

and bless you, as I did when you were a child.

Berenice, if you persist in bringing eternal dishonor on yonr line Berenice, listen! may the

curse ot your rather"

The girl pressed his arm heavily she tried

to speak, but her tr-ted lips were white as

marble, and refused t e r a sound.

The old man looked a,x nfer, and the curse on his lips -was staved. He looked on her nl

held, not one, but two young maidens, both

dressed alike in white raiment, both coming

forth with the same quiet step and placid demeanor; and one, it might be the most tranquil, advanced a step towards the seat where he who governed the city, dnring the absence of

Marcus Antonius, set, and thus addressed him:

"It is I, most noble prefect, who am Berenice

the Christian. This girl, my sister, for love of

me, would fain take my name and punishment

on herself; but credit her not it is I who am

condemned."

Then arose a dispute between the sisters

sisterly love lending one the eloquence which the other derived from truth. Many of their friends, even of their relatives, in the amphi

theatre, were called on to come down and decide between them: but one spoke for each

one. Veronica, in her agonizing fears had lost fa saje ov

ine ngm ana joyous expression oi ner counte

nance; and Berenice's meek and holy hopes had chased the deep melancholy from her

face and mein.

One or two brutal voices arose and said

"They both call themselves Christians let them both die the death!" but one of the maid

ens answered, "Think not, most noble prefect,

if you thus decree, that you will be guiltless of my sister's blood. She is not a Christian at heart would to God she were ! then would I

no longer oppose her sharing my early death. Veronica, acknowledge the truth and let me suffer alone." But Veronica, if she it was, per

sisted in her first declaration, and none could tell how this dispute would terminate, when a new incident attracted the attention of the multitude, and silenced every doubt.

A speck was seen in the air it came lower

and nearer. It was a milk-white dove. The

bird fluttered around one, and then drew near

the other; no carressing hand was out to receive him, but his instinct was not to be deceived; he settled on the shoulder of her who had answered the harsh voice from the crowd, and

sought to nestle as he was want in her long hair. Many were present who knew the pet belonged to Berenice, so the people were satisfied with the deci sion, and the weeping Veronica, still protesting against her own identity, was torn from the arms of her sister. Then the prefect who had been much moved at this

singular scene, turned to Berenice as she stood alone in the arena, and said, "it is not yet too late young maiden, to preserve thy life. Have pity on thy youth and loveliness, and on the

gray hairs of thy aged father. What harm is it to swear by the fortune of Ca?sar, and to sac

rifice and safe?" But she answered more firmly than ever, "I am a Christian and I cannot sacrifice to your false gods. You condemn me to death, but I fear not to die in defence of the truth." She advanced unbidden to the block.

and knelt by it: yet ere she had joined her

hands in prayer,she bent once more fondly over

her messenger bird, as if to bid farewell to the last object that told her earthly ties. There was a small scroll of parchment under its wing: Berenice felt it, and thinking it might perhaps tell the only tidings she cared now to hear, she rose again, and holding it forth,she prayed permission to read it. The prefect did not refuse and Berenice reads first in silence, and then aloud, "The Emperor Marcus is dead, and Commodus is already proclaimed Caesar." A loud shout rent the air. It was well known thot Commodus, in his heart, favored the dispised

sect, and in spite of their prejudices, the beauty and heroism of Berenice had moved the hearts of her countrymen in her favor. A general outcry for her release was heard, but this the prefect dared not grant, Berenice was re

manded to prison until the pleasure of Corn-

modus should be known respecting Christians. It was not very long, ere, wearied with the hardships of the camp, he returned to his capi

tal and his first order was that all Christians should be released, and restored to their priv

ileges of Roman citizens. In this train came the young Lucius; he had found leisure, amid

all the excitement of glory, and the hardships of his campaign to study the precious gift of his betrothed at first for love of her, and afterwards from a wish to know the truth. So

when their nuptials, delayed awhile by the death of Flavius Torquatos, was solemnized Berenice had the happiness of knowing that the

husband of her choice shared the snre faith and pure hope of her own spirit They remained

not long in Rome: the follies and cruelties of

Commodus rendered it distasteful to them; and

although Lucius stood high in his favor, as he

was very capricious they knew not how long it

might remain in their own power to depart or

abide in safety. They therefore bade adieu, without a sigh, to the pomp and luxuries of the capital, and embarked for a little island for the

northwest of Europe without the range of civilization, where they knew they should enjoy safety and freedom. Berenice was perfectly happy: she gave not one regret to the magnificence she abandoned, for Lucius was with her; and as she stepped into the boat, a trembling carressing girl clung to her, and a soft voice whispered in her ear, "My sister! whither thou goest I will go: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God."

ofrave under the mistaken name of Consumption. The usual symptoms of this disease arc.

Cough, Soreness of the Lungs or Throat,Hoar-

seness, Difficulty of Breathing, Asthma, Hectic fever, a Spitting up of Phlegm or Matter and sometimes Blood. It is an inflammation of the fine skin which lines the inside of the small

wind tubes or air vessels running through every part of the lungs. The great and effectual remedy for this alarming and wide-spreading

disease is the Rev. I. Covert's Balm of Life. This new and invaluable Medicine is universally pronounced, by the multitudes who have used it and tested its healing virtues, to be the most wonderful and admirable remedy in the

world lor the cure of Bronchitis, coughs, so-i vere colds, croup, asthma, whooping cough and all diseases of the Lungs and Windpipe, which, neglected, soon lead to real consumption. The Balm of Life stands entirely aloof from the various Quack Nostrums of the day, having

invariably won the confidence of Physicians, Clergymen, and the intelligent of all classes, wherever it has been introduced. Philanthropists, and all who truly sympathise with human suffering, every where hail its appearance with

heart-felt joy; and look upon the Balm of Life as one of those great and uncommon blessings

which a kind Providence occasionally bestow s

on man, but which, like angel's visits, are few

and far between.

JtfC'rculars, containing numerous testimonials of the highest respectability, can be had,

gratuitous, of all our Agents.

The Balm qfLfte One Dollar per bottle,) is

Brookville, Feb. 10, 1842.

WOODS. 7-6mo.

NEW STORE. DANES AND DVRTON MAVE just received from Philaidelpbia Pittsburgh, and Cincinnati, a large as sortment of Dry Goods, Groceries, QueensWare, Hard Ware, and Cutlery, c. $c. And have opened their store in the room im mediately north of the Brookville Hotel. Tbeii

goods are all entire.v new, well selected, and

having been purchased since the fall in prices, they can be sold npon terms more suitable to the

times. Thev have a fine assortment of clolbes.cassi

meres, and satinetts, of fashionable colors and

qualities carefully selected in the Philadelphia

market.

Their stock of Queens ware and Hardware

id verv larfre. and having been purchased for

cash, they can supply their friends on very fa vnrahle terms.

Their Belectionsof silks, moueelin delaines

Uvna. calicoes. &c. &c.,are such as they think

will attract the attention and please the taste

of the Ladies.

ALSO A large assortment of Boots, Shoes

Hats. Cotton yarn, Nails, Ac.

They solicit an examination of their goods

and prices, and then wish the public to consult

their own interest. Brookville, April 22, 1841. 17-ly

SALT & IRON.

TT & S. TYNER. have on hand, and for

lllaV salt, at the Cincinnati prices, adding ca

nal freight, 1,500 barrels salt, 40,000 lbs. Iron assorted, 75 kegs nails, 6,000 lbs Cotton Yarn

Also.a verv extensive assortment or uki

GOODS. Groceries, Hard-Ware, Cuttlery

Queens-ware, Tin-ware Ac Hollow-ware. Fur, silk and palm leaf Hats; Bonnets and palm leaf Hoods; Sole and Upper Leather, 4 c. 4 c. They receive and forward goods and produce at five cents on the hundred pounds, and also pay cash for wheat. Brookville, Joly 7, 1841.

Fresh Groceries. SHilDS. new crop N. O. sugar. 30 bbls " N. O. molasses. 2ft hm Rio coffee.

u st received from New Orleans, and for

sale, low for CASH by BANES & BURTON Brookvillo, Jwn. 13, 1842. 3-

Refincd Salt. BBld. of refined Kanawha Salt j st re ccived and for sale, by

R. & S. TYNER. Brookville, Oct. 19, 1841.

30

Berenice" mv ?Tv aeP-" kissed her ere he went, for he had tenderly lov Berenice . my nsusr bethink of your father I ed her mother.

BACON HAMS, sale by July 7. 1841.

Shoulders and sides for

R. & S. TYNER.

JOHN D. HOWL AND, Attorneyand Counsellor at Lav Brookville, Indiana. March 1st, 1842.

TTrtACON HAMS. Sides aad 8hoalders. for

u-v sale? BANS3 BURTON. Brookville, Nov. 25.

WHITE WATER VALLEY CANAL, STOCK NOTICE.

"PSJOTICE is hereby given that on Monday

the 4th day of April next, Books will be

opened, and kept open ten days, for receiving

subscriptions of Capital Stock of "THE

WHITE WATER VALLEY CANAL COM

PANY," under the provisions of the Charter,

at the following places in the State of Indiana,

to-wit: j NewCastle, Knightstown, Cambridge, Cen-, treville, Milton, Connersville, Rushville, Laurel, Brookville, and Lawreneeburgh. Stock may be taken to be paid for in Real Estate, in Labor to be done on the Canal, and in money, the last to be paid in ten equal annual instalments. At each point, together with a Stock ! Book, may be seen the charter and the general ! Rules as to the taking and payment of Stock;

all of which will be shown by the Commissioners appointed at each place to superintend the receipts of Subscriptions; who will give any

explanations needed. All desirous of making

safe and profitable investments, will do well to

look to this matter in season. JAMES CONWELL, Pres'L of the Company. H. Goodlander, Secretary. Connersville, Ind., Feb. 16, 1842.

SOLE and upper leather for sals by R. 4c 8. TYNFR. Brookville, Feb. 17. 1841.

KIotTat's Life Piiu and Phcenix

iters. nilHESE medicines are indebted for their -U- name to their manfest and insensible action in purifying the springs and channels of life & enduing them with renewed tone and vir0r' & to the undoubted fact that at a very early Viod in their history ihey bad rescued sufferers from tne very verge of an untimelvirravcfto, .i!.w.

deceptive nostrums iftheday.prescribed by pl.vsicians,had utterly failed .in which cases they also permanently secured that uniform enjoyment of health, without which life itself j9 but partial blessing. o great indeed had their effi-

v.vj iuiui; iiroveo, iuat it was scarcely less than miraculous to those who were unacquamted with the beautifully philosophical principles upon which they were compounded, and upon which they consequently act. THE PHOENIX BITTERS are so called because ihcy posse? 9 the power of restoring the expiring embers of health, to a glowing vigor throughout the constitution, as the Phoenix ia a.til lA Ka .AuIarajI 1 ' r .1 t f

usiuicu iu me iroui me abues lit na

own dissoulution. The Phoenix Bitters arc entirely vegetable, composed of roots found only

in certain parts of the western country, which will infallibly cure Fevers asd Agies of ill

inds; will never fail to eradicate entirely all

the effects of Mercury, infinitely sooner than the most powerful preparations of Sarsaparilla. and will immediately cure the determination of blood to the head; never fail in the sirknrs

ncident to young females; and will be found

a certain remedy in all cases of nervous dcbil-

ty and weakness of the most impaired constintions. As a remedy for Chronic and Inflarnatory Rheumatism, the efficacy of the Pbcenix Bitters will be demonstrated by the use of a single bottle.

The proprietor rejoices in the opportunity af

forded by the universal diffusion of the press.

for placing Vegetable Life Medicines within

the knowledge and reach of every individual in the community. Unlike the host of pernicious quackeries, which boast of vegetable ingredients,

the Liie fills are purely and solely vegetable.

and contain neither Mercury. Antimony, Arsnic, nor any other mineral, in any form whatever. Their are entirely composed of extracts

from rare and powerful plants, the virtues

fo which, though long known to sever I Indian tribes, andrecentlr to some eminent pharmaceutical chemists, sre altogether unknown to the ignorant pretenders tomedical te'ence; and

were never before administered in so happily

efficacious a combination.

Their first operation is to loosen from the

coats of the stomach and bowels, the various

mpuritiesand crudites constantly settling a-

round them; and to remove the hardened fsecei which collect in the convolutions of the small intestines. Other medioines only partially cleanse these, and leave such collected ma.cfca

6cbind as to produce habitual costireness, with

all its train of evils, or sudden diarrhoea, who

il imminent dangers. This fact is well known to all regular anatomists whoexamine thehuman

bowels after death.- ana hence ine prejuaice oi these well informed men against the quack

medicines of the age. 1 be second eflect ol tbe Vegetable Life Pills istocleanse the kidneys ani the bladder, and by this means, the liver and the lungs, the healthful action of which entrely depends upon tbe regularity of tbe urinary organs. The Blood, which takes its red color from the agency of tbe liver and the lungs before it passesi nto the heart, being thus purified by them, and nourished by food coming from a clean stomach,courses freely through the veins, renews every part of the system and triumphantly mounts the banner of hea.tu in the blooming cheek. The following are among the distressing variety of human diseases, to which the Vegetable Life Pifls are well known to be infallible: DYSPEPSIA, by thoroughly cleansing the first and second stomachs, and creating a flow of pure healthy bile, instead of the stale and acrid kind; Flatulency, Palpitation of tle Heart, Loss of appetite, Heart-burn an!h e-d-

ache, Restlessness, 111 temper, Anxiety, Languor and Melancholly, which are the general symptoms of Dyspepsia, will vanish, as a nat-

uaal consequence oi its cure, vosuvences, m cleansingthe whole length of the intestines wiia a solvent process, and without violence all vio

lent purges leave the bowels costive wuiuii iwe days. Diarrhoea and Cholera.by remon'nir tbe

sharp acrid fluids by which these complaints

are occasioned, and by promoting tiic iudtic-

tive secretions of the mucous membrane, revers

ofall kinbs, by restoring the blood to a regular circulation through the process of perspiration

n some cases, and the thorough solution oi "

intestinal obstructions in others. The Liie

wt i:-:. u A I 1. nnn-n ia KiirA K lirmnl-

tism permanently in three weeks, ana ooui i half that time, by removing local imflammatinn from the muscles and ligaments of the joints-

Dropsies of all kinds, by freeing and strength

ening tbe kidneys and bladder; they operate mcrt

delightfully on those important organs, hence have ever been found a certain retneF for the wortt cases of Gravel. Also worms bj dislodging from the turnings of the bowels tbe slimy matter to which these creatures adhere. Asthma and Consumption, by relieving the air vessels of the lungs from tbe mucus, w Inch even slight colds will occasion, which if not removed becomes hardened, and produces those dreadfu. diseases. Scurvy, Ulceis,and Inveterate Sores, by the perfect purity which these Life Pillgift to the blood, and all the humors;Scorbutic eruptions and Bad Complexions, by their alterat effect upon the fluids that feed the skin.it morbid state of which occasions all Erupti(t

complaints, sallow, cloudy, and other disafrceable complexions. The use of these PiVsJot l . :ii jt.-a J rare '

very soon uuic, win cuiu uu cmi" Salt Rheum, Ervsipelas, and a striking ' im- . .la, .!.... raii.o -bin. Com

mon colds and Influenza, wilfalways be cured

by one dose, or by two, even in the worst ci

n . . i r . l l - . .i. i tt

flies as a remec j lor ioie moai ai6ircs;"; and obstinate malady, tbe Vegetable Life Fi deserve a distinct and emphatic recomment'i-

tion. It is well known to hundreds in this ciij

that the originator of these invaluable Pills

himself afflicted with this complaint for wards of thirty-five years, and that he tried !n .r.rw vmHv nrMorihed within the

nf the Materia Medica. He however

at length, tried the medicine which he no offers to tbe public, and he was cured in a re?

short time, after bis recovery had Been nounced not only improbable, but absolute.

impossible, by any human means. All that Mr. Moffat rennirea of his patients

to be particular in taking tbe Life Medici1; atiiiflv sa rA w tw ftsw t Ksft A art I Sanaa Itif"'

bv a newspaper notice, or by any thing that vj

himself may say in their favor, that be bofV J gain credit. It ia alone by tbe results of B

trial.

M. UC www v.w awv i aaw ivi iv . w W f RYRRS Mnnnt Pimwl. Tnd.. al Hi

JEREMIAH WOODS, Aeejit. Brookville, Sept. 17, 1P41. -V