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trait, and Wordsworth celebrated her fame in a poem. Still, in what has thus far been said about her, she stands on a level only in bravery with her heroic sister of the Shetlands. We have seen her brave deed, just like that of Helen Petrie, in rescuing men from the awful perils of drowning in the sea. Fortunately the historian has told us more about the character of Grace, than he did about that of Helen. One who visited her, he says, spoke of her unaf fected simplicity, her quiet manner, and her genuine goodness. Besides this, it was put on record, that she refused the offer of £20 a night, which may be put down as $100 in our own currency, to sit in a boat at the Adelphi Theatre during a shipwreck scene. At this period her bravery may be said to rise to a higher level. It is true, we do not know why she would not leave her seagirt rock, for the purpose of gaining so tempting a pecuniary reward. We are not able to say whether it was native modesty, or a strong devotion to a sense of duty. Yet, this young girl of such blessed memory remained bravely at her post, and that at a heavy pecuniary sacrifice, for no other apparent reason than the claims of a self-sacrificing humanity. In this respect she rises above the merely physical, and stands squarely in the domain of the moral, and it is just in this one thing that she may be held up as an admirable model for our own day and generation. Whatever she may have been in other respects, it is a matter of fact that she was not given to the folly of sacrificing duty to selfinterest, by either making haste to get rich, or to get the means for fashionable display and a brainless extravagance.

Sad it is to learn that this exemplary young woman, three years after the rescue, began to show symptoms of consumption. A few months later she died, and in the manner in which she died we have another evidence of her excellent character. We are told that she passed away quietly, happily, religiously. Shortly before her death, the Duchess of Northumberland, clothed in humble attire, came to bid her God-speed on her last journey. Soon after this affectionate and womanly leave-taking, the mortal remains of Grace were buried in an obscure grave, but her deeds pub

lished by the world, and admired by all who read the brilliant story of her bravery, are a better monument to her memory than any artistic pile of marble or brass could be. And if any one should regret the want of opportunity to drop a tear of sympathy at her grave, let such an one remember that her blessed memory can be honored in a much more becoming and beneficial way, by striving to imitate the noble graces of her character-simplicity, modesty, and genuine goodness.

Physical endurance and self-helpfulness, it has been suggested, are very important elements in the training of girls. Now we may add that this sort of education can, however, only lead to safe results when it is inspired and guided by moral principles. Women that have pluck and physical energy merely, may indeed display great bravery, and perform heroic deeds; but if they are destitute of the graces of moral heroism, their very pluck may be come an agency of evil. The spirit of the age is such as to draw out the energies of both sexes, and never before had woman such inducements to develop and make use of all the powers she may possess. For this very reason she must run greater risks, and bear greater responsibility. The times demand brave, plucky self-reliance, and need purity, simplicity, and genuine goodness. If the physical development and mental energy of the fair sex, has much to do with the future destiny of the race, the moral temper which enters into female habits will have a vast deal more to do both with the welfare of women, and the universal success of modern cultivation.

We may be allowed to hope, in view of these considerations, that the kind of bravery so nobly displayed by the modest heroine of Longstone Lighthouse will be abundantly developed, though we should be obliged to look for its most vigorous growth, amid the dreary solitudes of desolate islands, or out in the frugal homes of a rural peasantry, rather than in the luxurious dwellings of the cultivated and the rich.

WHEN sorrow is asleep wake it not.



Some two miles east of the quiet and peaceful Moravian village of Nazareth, in Northampton county, Pennsylvania, there stands a massive, ancient-looking stone mill, the only remaining memorial of what was once an important outpost of the Moravian Church in its missionary campaign among the Indians. Despite of its antique look, this mill is a comparatively modern structure. It took the place of an older one in 1840. The first mill stood a few hundred feet further north, and nearer the banks of the lovely Lehighton Creek, that gurgled over its stony bed, as it rapidly flowed southward to meet the Delaware River at Easton.

Erected by a colony of Brethren in 1749, it for nearly a century ground the grain-first only of the Brethren at Bethlehem and Nazareth, and afterwards of all the farmers round about. During the perilous times of the Pontiac War, when Indian marauders were throwing all the country along the Blue Mountains into terror by their cruel murders and fierce devastations by fire and tomahawk, this old mill, with the log farm-houses, barns, and workshops that clustered around it, was temporarily turned into a frontier fortress. A band of soldiers was quartered there for its defence. It was furnished with heavy wooden shutters, while a rude but strong palisade was constructed all around the little settlement. Nightly, during those dread summer days of 1763, the guards, looking forth from the narrow windows on the broken roof, could see the sky to the north and west lit up with the lurid glow of burning hamlets and farmhouses, and knew that there friends and acquaintances of theirs were being rendered homeless, and perhaps butchered and scalped.

Towards autumn their alarm had somewhat abated. Their guards were becoming less vigilant. This was the Indians' opportunity; and had not God watched over His children then, the fate of so many of those neighbors and friends might have been theirs also.

It was past the hour of midnight. The stars shone calmly down upon the yet green meadows and fruitful orchard. No sound was heard save the gentle rippling of the creek and ever and anon the melancholy hoot of an owl. Within the settlement all were fast asleep; but without, stealthily creeping on hands and knees through the long meadow-grass and thick bushes along the Lehighton's banks, was a wide-awake band of dusky painted warriors, intent on surprising the Brethren within the stockade, and gaining a score of paleface scalps to grace their own wigwams. Carefully they advanced, creeping nearer and ever nearer. Now they have reached the outer palisade. At a sign from the chief they stop and examine the priming of their muskets, and loosen their tomahawks and scalping-knives in their belts. In another instant they would be ready to apply the match to the old mill and the barn, and, lighted by the angry flames, would rush in upon the sleeping Brethren, and murder them all before they could defend themselves, or think of escaping.

But just at that moment God interposes. The chief stumbles over a root, falls headlong, and, striking a sharp stone, gives vent to a cry of mingled pain and rage. Instantly the watchdogs within set up a fierce barking and haying, the guards spring up, the bell on the turret of the mill rings a wild alarm. Everyone is awake in a moment, and sallies forth with loaded mus. ket and drawn sabre. But at the first alarm the disappointed Indians fled, as noiselessly but far more swiftly than they had come. Search is made for them, but no sign of them discovered. The Brethren return to their houses. thinking that probably it had been but a false alarm; and not till years afterwards did they learn how by God's watchful care their old mill was saved that night from the flames, and all its inmates from a cruel death.

A GOOD HIT.-"I sometimes think," said Mr. Beecher, one Sunday morning, after reading an unusually large number of notices, that I will quit preaching and do nothing on Sunday but read notices."


Louisa, and both are the daughters of Heloise, which is Hele-wise, hidden wisThe interesting and often-quoted state- dom. There is, indeed, another form ment made some time since by Lord of Louisa, or rather Louise, which is Palmerston, respecting the uninter- the feminine of Louis, but this was rupted descent for nearly eight cen- scarcely heard of before the sixteenth turies, from father to son, of a small century. The older Heloise form of estate in his own neighborhood in the the name, Alosisa, Aloisia, or Aloysia, New Forest, relates, as is well known, was adopted into medieval English as to the family of Purkis, the lime-burner, Alesia-a name which our old genealowho picked up the body of William gists always confuse with Alice. Emily Rufus, and carried it in his humble cart and Amelia are not different forms of to Winchester to receive the last sad one name. Emily is from Emylia, the rites. But we can place upon record a name of an Etruscan gens. Amelia case of still longer descent of a small comes from the Gothic amala-heavproperty among persons in no way al-enly. Reginald is not derived from lied to rank and fortune, and who have Regina, and has nothing to do with a never risen above the condition of yeo- Queen. It is from Rein-alt-exalted puman; while, we believe, they have never rity. Alice, Adelais, Adelaide, Alisa, fallen below it. Alix, Adeline, are all forms of one name, the root of which is adel—noble.


At Ambrose's Barn, on the borders of the parish of Thorpe, near Chertsey, till resides a farmer of the name of Wapshot, whose ancestors have lived, without break, upon the same spot, ever since the reign of Alfred the Great, by whom the farm was granted to Reginald Wapshot.

How often do we see persons who wish to be taken for what they are not. The boy apes the man with cane and cigar; the man affects the ways of boyhood. The sailor envies the landsman's lot; the landsman, for pleasure, goes to

There are several families among the English untitled gentry-the county aristocracy who can trace their names sea. The business man who must travel and possessions in a direct male descent from town to town, and from country back to the Saxon times; but below to country, dreams of the day when he that rank we are not aware of a more will be able to "settle down;" the man striking instance of permanence among of sedentary occupation grieves over change than the past history of the the thought that he has to vegetate like Wapshots. a cabbage in one spot, and signs for the time when he may travel. The townbred youth hails with joy the morning in which he can breathe pure air and ramble among green fields; the country lad is all wonder and admiration when he first sees the rows of town gas lamps tapering away in perspective like beads of gold; and he is excited by the blaze


Annabella is not Anna-bella, or Fair Ann, but the feminine of Hannibal, meaning gift (or grace) of Bel. Arabella is not Ara-bella, or beautiful altar, but Orabilia, a praying woman. Maurice has nothing to do with Mauri- of gas which pours from the windows tius, or a Moor, but comes from Amal- on the road. Your fine musician would ric-himmel reich-the kingdom of like to be a great painter, your wit a heaven. Elien is the feminine of Alain, dignified philosopher, your philosopher Alan, or Allan, and has no possible a wit, able to set the table in a roar. connection with Helen, which comes Even an oyster would wish to put forth from a different language, and is older fins and have a fine, flexible tail, and by about a thousand years at least. sail abroad to see the world; while the Amy is not from aimée, but from amie. traveled fish looks with an eye of envy Avice, or Avis, does not exactly mean upon the oyster as one who lives withadvice, but comes from Edwise,-hap-out work-a fish of independent means, py wisdom. Eliza has no connection who has got a fixed position and a good, with Elizabeth. It is the sister of strong bouse of its own.-Exchange.



It is greatly to be regretted that the early history of the old German families of Pennsylvania has not been more generally preserved. There is hardly a subject that could furnish more pleasing reading to the present generation. The pioneers were generally poor, but they were not illiterate. Their honesty was proverbial, and their unremitting toil, which enabled them to subdue the wilderness, was positively heroic. Would it not be delightful to read a minute account of the history of some of the numerous families which, by walking in the ways of their worthy fathers, have attained to influence and competence, without sacrificing that which is far better?

The late I. D. Rupp, who did so much for our local history, fully appreciated the importance of gathering and preserving early family traditions. He used to say: "We need a history of firesides." Many years ago he permitted us to examine, and to take extracts from a manuscript which he had prepared on this subject, but which has remained unpublished. We now wish we had taken notes more freely, as we do not know what has become of the original. The following references to early families of Lancaster county may serve as a specimen of the work:

The Stauffer family, of Pequea township, came from Schaffhausen, in Switzerland. They were ingenious clockmakers. At the time of their arrival the family consisted of father, mother, and five sons, two of whom were married. Their dress must have appeared very curious. The women wore darkblue skirts, with red borders, red stockings, shoes bound with blue, yellow aprons, which formed a part of the boddice, and large blue kerchiefs. The

men were dressed in small-clothes, blue stockings, jackets with yellow lappets, red vest, and blue neck-kerchief. They brought a wagon with them from Switzerland, on which they loaded their luggage in Philadelphia, and the father and his sons drew it to Lancaster. This occurred early in the last century.

The early settlers suffered many privations. Jacob Kreider, in 1728, lived in a tent with his family, two miles south of Lancaster, but in autumn he succeeded in completing a log hut. In 1720, Eberhard Riehm ventured among the Indians, and lived for some time under an oak in the vicinity of what is now Reamstown. In 1728, John Dieffenderffer also encamped for some time under an oak tree near the place where he afterwards founded the village once known as "Säu' Schwamm," but now called New Holland.


The following lines-if, indeed, they are long enough to be called lines-appear to have been made with a machine that chopped very fine, but the stuff is not bad. We find them in a corner of an old New England paper.

"Art thou Laborer?



Art thou


Go it Strong!"


Do you want to know the secret of success? It is very short. Let us whisper it into your ear: Always do


your best!" That is the whole secret, but it indicates the only way to eminence. Whatever may be your employment you cannot afford to send out inferior work. No matter how much labor it may cost, it always pays to do the thing right; a single bad job may ruin your reputation for years. Try to increase your knowledge so that every piece of work may be better than the last. Whether you swing the hammer or wield the pen, if you never vary from this rule you will be successful.

Do you want to know the secret of happiness? It is shorter still, but it is even harder to remember: "Make others happy!" If you feel grumpy, don't growl. See whether you cannot say a kind word or do a kind deed. The effort alone will lift you out of your depressed condition, and the responsive affection, which it will cer tainly call forth, cannot fail to secure you a high degree of happiness. Try it!


John Philip De Haas, of Lebanon, Penna., was in 1777 appointed a Brigadier-General in the army of the Revolution. He did good service, but was often disabled by the gout, from which he was a great sufferer. Very little is known of his early history, but he is said to have been a native of Holland. During the French and Indian war he acquired distinction as an Indian fighter, and at the beginning of the Revolution he held the office of Justice of the Peace. He finally removed to Philadelphia, where he died in 1786.

So little is known concerning this eminent man that it might be well to collect any traditions that may still linger at his old home in Lebanon. It should, however, be remembered that he had a son who bore precisely the same name, and care must be taken not to confound the son with the father.

General De Haas wrote very little, and his pen was much more fluent in German than in English. Recently we have, however, come into possession of a short autograph letter, addressed by him to Judge Yeates, of Lancaster. The letter has no historical value, but

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The late Gen. Samuel P. Heintzelman, of the United States army, was a native of Manheim, Lancaster county. The house in which he was born-a fine old mansion-is now occupied by Dr. C. J. Snavely. A few years before his death the General paid a visit to his birth-place. There was no one there who recognized him, but the aged hero examined with interest every object that reminded him of his childhood. He visited the old orchard, and rejoiced to recognize some veteran trees which had borne luscious fruit more than half a century before. When he entered the house and saw the spot where he was born and where his mother died, the man who had often stood unmoved on the battle-field felt his heart thrill with emotion, and turned aside to hide his tears. Surely, in all the world, there is no place which can call up such tender recollections, as the spot where we were born.


We have received as many as we need of the back numbers of THE GUARDIAN, which we requested our friends to send us. The donors will please accept our sincere thanks.

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