The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1857-12-10
"A CANDID DEACON,

Deacon M. was an honest old codger, kind,
obhging neighbor, and good church. going
Christian, believing in the Presbyterian creed
to the fullest extent; but &lacksday this Pillar
OF the church was at times little "shaky -
in fact, the Deacon would occasionally get ex.
ceedngly mellow" and almost every Sum
day at dinner he would indulge in his favorite
cider brandy to such an extent that it was with
some difficulty he reached his pew, which was
IN the broad aisle, near the pulpit, and between
the Minister'S and village 'squire's. One Sun
day morning, the Parson told his flock that he
should preach sermon to them in the after.
noon, touching many glazing sins that be had
grleVed to see 80 conspicuous among them ::
and that he hoped that they would listen atten.
lively, and not finch if he should happen to be
severe. The afternoon came, and the house was
full; everybody turned out to hear their neigb
bors "dressed down" by the minister, who, after
well opening his sermon, commenced upon the
transgressors in loud voice, with the cues.
ton, "Where is the drunkard?" A solemn
pause succeeded this inquiry when up rose
Deacon NJ, with face radiant from copious
draughts of his favorte drink at his noontide
meal, and steadying himself as well as he could
by The pew-rail, looked up at the Parson, and
replied, In piping and tremulous voice,
Here L am" Of course, a CONSERVATION
amongst the congregation was the result of the
honest Deacon's response; however, the Parson
went on with his remarks as he had written
them, commenting severely upon the drunkard,
and winding up by warning him to forsake at
once such evil habits, if he would seek salvation
and flee the coming wrath. The Deacon then
made a bow, and seated himself again. "And
now" out spoke the preacher man in his loudest
tones, Where is the hypocrite?" pause
but no one responded. Eyes were turned upon
this and that man but the most glances seemed
directed to the squires pew, and indeed the
Parson seemed to squint hard in that direction.
The Deacon saw where the shaft was levelled,
or where it should be aimed, and rising once
more, leaned over his pewrail, to the squire,
whom he tapped On the shoulder, and thus ad
dressed: "Come, squire, why don't you get
up; | did, when he called on me."-Boston
Post.
The vanity of riches is seldom illustrated 80
strikingly as in the case of the great English
millionaire, Morrison, who died recently, worth
S2O,O0O,OOO. 1t seems to be one of the condi-
tions of the accumulation Of enormous wealth
in single generation, that the posseesor shall
FIRST disquaify himself for enjoying it, and in
some cases even of appreciating the fact that
he holds it. Mr.. Morrison accumulated this
almost fabulous amount himself, and IN the
regular course of his business, without any ex-
traordinary turn of fortune; yet the following
extract from letter in the Boston Post shows
how little benefit he permitted himself to re-
ceive from ell his wealth. What satire it is
upon the exclusive devotion of all the faculties
to the mere accumulation of property
Mr.. Morrison retired from active business
several years since, without Withdrawing his
capital from the mercantile honse and the man.
aging his vast funds himself, up to the time Of
his death, with all the sagacity of earlier days.
He has for the past three years been possessed
with the idea that he should come to want.
More than two years ago he commenced doing
day labor upon a farm held by one of his ten
ants, for which he received twelve shillings
week; and this he continued up to the time of
his illness. For the last eighteen months he
has been regular applicant for relief to the
parish, assembling twice week with the town
paupers at the door of the Union and receiv-