Rising Sun Times, Volume 1, Number 8, Rising Sun, Ohio County, 4 January 1834 — Page 1

ttmie mnsnM(B STUM

O To "praise where praise is due," and blame where blame, In spite of fashion, pride or other name.

THE RISING SUN Printed and published erery Saturday By Isaac Stevens. & Co. TERM . Two Dor.i.vHS per annum, f paid in advance, Two Dollars am Pittv Ci-Nrs if paid in six months, or f hrki: Doi.l i:s at lite nd of t!ie y ear. A failure (o notify a discontinuance it the end of the lime subscribed for will he considered a new engagement. (F" Arrearages must he paid previous (o discontinuance. Advertisements not exceeding one square, one dollar for tliree weeks, each subsequent insertion twenty-five cents, larger one in proportion. Letters addressed to the editor, must be post-paid to receive attention. SELECTED TALES. The following is an extract from a recently published volume of ruial tales, entitled ''Scenes in our Parish, by a country parson's daughter." The heroine, Alice Grey, is a sailor's wife, and in the scene below represented as awaiting the return of her husband from his second, and as he had promised, his last voyage; a promise, il will be seen, which was too certainly fulfilled: 44 Alice," said her mother-in-law the next morning, " I hear the. ship is at Gravesend." 'The ship at (i ravesend," said Alice, "and no letter: Hut," she added. ' I meant to take the baby to show them at the office, and then I shall hear for myself." Weak as her spirits had been before, at that moment, she sajs she has no misgiving. A letter might come to her that day -.or the next, or, better than all, her husband himself was on the road her kind husband, win had pramised never to leave her again. She had just received the half of his wages, and the thought that they might never be due him again, wa not likely once to occur to her. The next morning she dressed herself and her beautiful infant in their best. It was a bright summer day; so t-he selected from tier wardrobe the light cotton gown which her husband h id chosen, and which had been her best when she married. She crossed

her gay orange silk handkerchief over ier white one, and tied on her new ipron. You might have looked far, before you had seen a gayer or a pret tier party than Alice Grey and her children. " I wish I could take Lizzy all the a," thought she, as having dressed ier little dark-eyed girl she left under i neighbor's care to wait her return; 'yet I need not wish it, tor Tom can't ie there vet, it is no use to think he vill; and if he were, I inut show him lis hoy first." So she set out for the office, a walk f about three miles from her house, elling every one w ho enquired of her, lat J om siie supposed was at Gravesnd, and that she did not expect him own for two or three days; and yet, oor tiling, having dressed herself exiy in the clothes which she knew he ked best, and admit ing her baby all le way, with the feelings of how his ilher would admire him, it was not mil Alice reached the door of the ofce that her spirits failed her, and her earl 6iink for a moment; but recoverig herself, she went in. The kind old idy who was used to receive heron ich occasions look her infant from her, lade her sit dow n, and gave her a glass f w ine. 44 She'll need something to rengltien tier, thought she, as sh oked at her compassionately. Alice uld not ask for a letter. " What a :ry sickly time we have had," said e old lady after a pause. " Have e in t am: asiteu mice, ineairis esh and pure on our hills, and Alice 1 not recollect any one who had been . "Why, slid another female in e room, 44 have you not heard that t captain lias been ill, and has lost vo of ihe men?" 44 1 felt the word. iid poor Alice, 44 from the crown of iy head to the sole of mv feet. It i iy husband!" said she, and without taking one etfort to support herself, 'ic fell down in a fainting lit. It was Mlh a kind intention, I dare say, that vheu they brought her to herself again he women deceived her into the belief hat her husband was only very ill, not lead, but it was not right, and there ore never wise to deceive. It is not a Protestant doctrine to do evil that good nay come; and in Ibis case as 1 be "ivc in all other the evil being done

hf jrofl nVM i nm". Wr. expect

day, and then we shall hear how he i : but let some one else come," they said, sooth ingly, 44 you are too weak." She was weak indeed; and as she sat listlessly gazing at her baby her fatherless baby so the sad whisper in her sinking heart told her, you would have thought it impossible that she could have reached home that evening. But there is no knowing what the weak human frame can bear, till the hour of need comes, in which God's strength is made perfect in weakness. The next morning her mother offered to go to the office and make inquiry instead of her "What! and I wait here! O! I could not I could not!" said Alice, passionately; and the next she went to hear the vague and deceitful comfort with which her injudicious friends suphed her. Ah, poor Alice! she had vainly decked her infant's worked cap with the shining rosette of white satin, saying to herself, 44 This will be for the christening when his father comes. It would have made vour heart ache, to see the look of deep unmurmuring despair with which, on the Saturday after she heard the dreadful news, she sat quietly unpicking the ribbon, and supplying its place with one of black love. 1 he next day the mourning par ty appeared at church in the afternoon, and after service, Alice, her mother-in-law, and her brothers, carried the infant to the font the fair child whose father might never glory in him. They called him by his father's name, but he ir.av never hear the voice of a father's blessing. Well! the blessing of a mightier Father rest on the sailor's orphan child. Affairs have not prospered with Alice Grey how should they! since she became a widow. She has missed her husband's pleasant company, his readv assistance, and his kind words; but she has missed his wages also; and as her blooming children have grown up, the has denied herself many a meal that they might not be stinted, and has sat up at work late, on many a night, "rather," as she says, 44 than Tom's children should not look something as they would have looked if he were there to see them. There are very few who know how hard she has strug gled. 44 Some have pitied my trouble, and some that I thought 1 might have looked to, never took much notice." 1 thought there was something expres sive in the phrase. There are too niuny in this selhsti world ol whom the least reproachful thing that can he said, is, that they do not ; take much notice" of the grief that is consuming the very lite ol a fellow creature. i nere was one person, however, who did lake notice of poor Alice Grey's trouble. There was a voune man whose business had called him on board Tom's shipr within a day cr two after it came into port. It happened that whilst looking round a chest caught his eye, on which were rudely cut, (he words "Thomas and Alice Grey." Leonard looked again, for Tom Grey had been a fovorite schoolmate of his. 44 Ah!" said an old man who stood by, "poor Tom's cutting! he was a favorite with every body!" And he went on to tell how one fair day, when the ship was at her moorings abroad, lorn and a shipmate of his got leave to go on shore. "They went with light hearts," said Leonard, when he repeated the story to Alice; 44 but he that told me, said they were never the same men after they came back. It was burning wea ther, and it may be they over-heated themselves or perhaps they made too free with the plentiful fruit that grew there; we can't tell they came back to the ship, but they never looked up more. ii was a sad taie lor poor Alice to hear, but he who repeated it to her, pitied her from the bottom of his heart, as he spoke of the hopeless yearning with which the dying men pined for their native hills, and for the kind voices of home, as they loitered about the deck, shivering in the torrid sunshine. Alice wept as she heard how it had heen tier nusoanu s last amuse ment to cut his own name and herTs and the little girl's in different parts of the ship. "But, concluded Leonard, "that was soon over; they grew worse and worse, and one died one hotfr and the other the next, and their shipmates sewed them up in their hammocks, and buried them in the waters just when the ship had sailed three days." 4Ah," cried Alice, "that's the worst ol it Would to God I had spoken with him

a letter to-morrow or next . i a

hut for five minutes. Would to God

had followed him to his grave, where his father is buried in our church-vard !'

t is a natural feeling, yet let poor Alice take comfort. There is a peaceable grave where God's blessing rests, and ic sleeps as well in the tossing ocean is if he were lying where the sun shines under the old chesnut tree. THE LITTLE BOY AND HIS HA'PENNY. I was standing one day in a retired part of Westminster Abbey looking at the monuments, when I saw a little boy come in, of about ten or eleven years old. He was one of the sweetest and rettiest children 1 ever beheld. His fine countenance was bright with expectation, and l.fted up with smiles of anticipated enjoyment. There was something so engaging in his appear ance, that I continued to tollow mm with my eyes, as he went about sur veying the different objects that presented themselves to his view. After having looked about for some time, a slight shade of melancholy pass ed over his brow, like a cloud t'.imning the mild lustre of a beautiful spring morning. 1 he expectation, the curioeily, the anticipated enjoyment had fled. They had gradually jielded to that subdued and chastened feeling, wluch the hoJ stillness of the place and the mournful memorials of departed souls, conspire to produce in every generous bosom. In the hurry of his entrance he had not thought of taking off his hat; but it seemed -is if it now occurred to him that there was an impropriety in wear ing :.t in such a place, and he took u off with so reverend a herring, that I umoat fancied the word.-i of the ratriirch. 44 How dreadful is this place. I'his is none other than, ihe house of God; and this is the gate of heaven," were pac-sing through his uund. He moved as if fearful of breaking the so lemn silence that reigned within the sacred walls. There was one monu ment which he appeared to regard with peculiar interest. It was erected to the memory of William W race, of South Carolina ; representing in bass relief, the melancholy shipwreck of that gentleman, and his little son floating ashore, on a raft, hastily constructed by ills faithful servant. He next contemplated that of the unfortunate Andre, apparently with much sympa thy: but I was surprised to see him be come suddenly agilated, stamp his foot on the ground, and turn away with in dignatioru I knew not, at the moment the right he had to be indignant at the outrage committed by some (jolh, in striking off the arm of the figure of General Washington. But soon the little ruffled visage became calm again, and settled into its wonted loveliness; and as he passed slowly from object to object, his features assumed more and more sedateness, until at length they exhibited a perfect picture of pensive contemplation. Ihe sad lesson of mor tality told from every tomb, had touch ed his tender heart. He hscame af fected. He turned to go away; and was retiring with slow and measured steps, when his eye caught the charity box that stood in the middle of the area, lie stopped, ihere was evi Y t (til dently something at work within him. ihere was a moral association going on. There were the tombs; and there was the charity box. He regarded them alternately, he looked and mourned the dead. He looked and felt compassion for the living, and while two pearly drops forced their way beneath his beautiful eye lashes, the smile of an Angel played upon his lips. His little hand instinctively insinuated itself into his pocket and he drew forth a ha pen ny. " It is all I have," said he. He cast a scrutinizing glance to see whe ther he was observed stepped up to the mute solicitor for the poor, and dropped into it his pure offering of be nevolence. I he humble c om fell to the bottom of the empty box, with a sound that reverberated through the lofty vault, and the receding ochoes as they grew fainter and fainter, seemed like the sweet accents of the blessed whispering peace. In a transport of delight, I exclaimed, "here is a deed worthy of Westminster Abbey," and ran from my concealment, and clasped the little philanthropist in my arms 44 And why were you ashamed?" said I. 44 1 was afraid they would laugh at me," said he. 44 Laugh at thee! O world ! world ! how often has thy sense Ie6s laugh put modest virtue out of countenance!" I slipped a half crown

into his hand, and told him to rcmmi

. i i i had met in the Abbey. "1 will take it," said lie,4 if you v i 1 1 let me put it in the charily box too." "Thou shall anetify the gift," 1 replied; so hand in land we walked to the charily box. My own reflections, the utter seclusion oi the busy world, the still repose of the silent tenants of the grave, the dim twilight of the uncivil! pile, where ton sured monks once chaimtcu thesolcnn hymn and bore their glimmering tapers together with the superadded tenderness inspired by the pine sacrifice of a itlle innocent heart, that 1 had just witnessed, all combined to press upon me with softening influence, that I was upon the point of giving vent to emotions of the deepest feeling. As it was felt rnv heart uplifted I looked up a tear of pious joy glistened in his eye as he dropped in the piece, h fell upon the ha pennv, the silver sound united with the bras and ascended to Heaven in holy euphony. We walked together to the door of the Abbey, and as we stood in the treet nbut to separate, I asked iiim us name, lie told it he was an amencan; he had hcen sent lo h.n gland for education. We parted, and I never saw him more. Whenever my spirits are depressed, or my temper becomes ruffled by the collisions of life, I call up the icmcmbrance yf this little boy and his ha penny, and it never fails to soothe my distempered feelings, and to restore to me my good will to mankind. Charleston Courier. From tfu: Genes ier Farmer. XTRACT EKOM AN ADDRESS Delivered at the. Annual .Merlin of the IVheniland Agricultural Society, Oct. H 1833i N. Gooixei.i.. In speaking of external injuries of L'ui!s, 1 would particularly call the.attention of farmers to those usually denominated Blights, MUdcus, and Rusts. Although here spoken of in connection with disease, these 1 consider as mere noxious weeds growing upon the surace of other plants, drawing their nourishment from those which support them. Ihe roots of such plants penetrate the pores of tha plants on which they grow, and not only draw their own nourishment from them, but obstruct the natural circulation of the juices of the plant. Whether we look upon these as external injuries,or diseases of plants on them, it is certain that they often increase to that extent as to blast the fondest hopes of the husbandman. Vulgar prejudice has long enrolled the increase of these parasitic plants, as particular signals of God's displeasure towards sinful man, and prayers were formerly substituted for person al exertions, to effect their removal. Thorns and thistles were looked upon much in the same light, but now their increase is considered as one of the operations of nature, and we find that by perseverance the good husbandman is so far able to overcome them that the punishment is light. Ihe inimitable poet, Cowper, seem ed to have entertained the opinion that mildew was a special punishment re served in store for those who led an atheist life; for in speaking on that sub ject he said, wiven God proclaimed his hot displeasure against them, 44 He called for famine, and ihe meagre fiend blew mildew from- between his shrivel ed lips and tainted the golden ear" but we do not find the injury confined to any particular class of people, and are led to believe that all are subject alike to the same annoyance. I he Druids entertained prejudices equally ridiculous concerning the mis tletoe, a parasitic plant growing upon trees, and such was their reverence for it, that they would allow it to grow upon their choicest trees until it destroyed them, rather than remove it. With plants as with animals neither will succeed well while supporting up A 1 f It II on ine suriace innumerable smaiiei plants or animals that draw their nour ishment from ihe body which supports them, Hants- which grew apon the surface of others are denominated parasitic, and demand more attention from the farmers than they are receiving at this time. Considering these thing as noxious weeds, everv possible means to their destruction, should be resort ed to. One of the most injurious of this class of plants to the cause of agriculture in this section, is the nusr, which often makes its appearance upon wheat. C .1. I i" . 1

ber the strange gentleman wnom ne

am ol opinion mat nun o me iniurv

which is so often experienced from the rapid increaseof rust, may be prevented by a judicious course of cropping. Rust a very minute, regular organized plant of the Cryptogamous Class. It is well known that many of the different varieties of this class of plants are found growing upon decomposing vegetable matter, such as the trunks of trees, when partially rotted, heaps of manure, kc. each variety seeming almost peculiar to certain substances. Thus, mushrooms are said to grow luxurienlly in old horse droppings, while smaller varieties spring up in innumerable quantities about heaps of stable manure which has been subject to a partial fermentation. When such manures are spread on wheat fields in autumn, and mixed with the soil, thev are most sure to propagate the plant called rust, to that extent as often to destroy the wheat crop entirely. I mention this subject in order to call the attention of farmers to it, for the improper application of manure, although it often produces a luxurient growth, yet it is evident that in many instances it does material injury. It may be thought, perhaps, rather a digression from the common track, on such an occasion, lo be thus particular, in matters relating to our wheat crops. My opinion is, that this subject is equal in importance to all others whiclf can be brought before you. It is the success which has placed you, farmer, on that proud eminence which 3011 now occupy. We may talk to 3011 about corn, burly, oats, peas and potatoes, and ask you what crop you have found most profitable? Your answer w ill be wheat. Ask you how you have been enabled to pay for your lands, and supply your families with all the comforts and many of the luxuries of life? Your answer will be by raising wheat. Ask you what crops you can cultivate that will improve the qualify of your soil, and yet afford you an ample compensation for your labor and capital? Your answer will be Wheat; and even ask yon

wnere you live, and-you will reply, in the land of wheat. We are all V01 -vinced that a rotation of crops is necessary in order to produce the greatest possible net profit from the capital and labor employed in agriculture; and that in different parts of our country the difference in soil, climate, markets and all attendant circumstances, must vary that rotation, but with us every crop must be considered secondary when compared with wheat. To keep our lands in the best possible condition for this croj by freeing them from all noxious weeds, and improving them with preparatory crops, should be the constant care of each individual. It has been remarked, with regard to -individuals, that prosperity destroys more than adversity. Although this is somewhat paradoxical, the moral in tended to be drawn from it, when ap plied to nations or inhabitants, has its force. It often happens that the inha bitants of those countries where the necessaries of life arc obtained with least exertions, become poor compared with those which demand constant un remitted exertions. Neither body or mind gain strength by a continued state of inactivity, and hence we see those nations to which nature has been the most bountiful, in suppling them with the necessaries of life, are often apt to relax into a state of inactivity, until Ihey become enfee bled both in body and mind to that degree that they fall an easy prey to those who have grown up in climates more austere, where the demands of nature require of them those exertions which cause superiority both for bodily exercise and intellectual capacity. If there is any one evil that threatens this favorable section of our country, it is the facility with which proper! v is acquired, or rather theeasew ith which all the necessaries and most of the luxuries of life arc obtained. Pardon me for calling this portentous of evil, but these is so close a connection between luxury and ease and idleness and vice, that it is difficult lo speak of the former without being reminded of the latter. In the morning of life let industry and frugality be your motto; these will con duct you to competency and enable you during the meridian of your usefulness locultivate tbesocial virtues which tend to adorn society and render life desirable; then in the evening of your days, with reflections upon a well spent life, may each of you have the satisfaction of sitting under your own vine and fig-tree and none to molest or make vou afraid.