Belmont Chronicle

We have before us two copies of the "Belmont Journal," a paper published in this town "lang syne." One of them is dated "Saturday, 24th April, 1819," the other "Saturday, 8th January, 1820."

Old newspapers are curiosities—and these are not an exception. Only think that these papers have lain in some out of the way corner while nine-tenths of the present inhabitants of the village have been born and grown up. Thirty six years ago! Heigho! Time makes wonderful changes—as well on people as on newspapers.

Here we have on each page four columns—numerous advertisements, too, seem to have cheered the editor's sight. Here we are informed that "Christopher & Jacob Hoover have entered into copartnership in the Blacksmithing business."

Although nearly forty years have passed since then these two partners still live—hale and hearty men. Not so many others whose names appear in the paper—they may now be found carved upon tombs in village grave yards, their bodies slumbering in the dust.

We are informed that the "Academy of New Athens is furnished with a good teacher. Boarding for students can be obtained at $1 12 per week." Alas! for the good old times when boarding was so cheap—and newspapers so dear!—($2.50 per annum.)

Ezra Ellis, then Clerk, advertises that the Acts of the legislature are at his office for distribution.

The Editor inserts the following significant notice—

LINEN SUGAR

Will be taken for accounts at this office.

In the name of wonder what is "Linen Sugar."

DI WELLS

BOOT & SHOE MAKER.

Respectfully informs the public that he has commenced business in the shop one door west of Mr. Inskeep's, and directly opposite Mr. Grove's Tavern.

For many long years did he continue to invest his skill for the good of men's soles—but the great Master of the Universe at last stamped "well done" upon his works, and took him up higher.

Aaron Mercer, from near Georgetown, advertises "A birth for a Weaver," referring to property to rent. Aaron, no doubt, intended to say berth, but the printer would not let him—and here are we, years after, smiling at the ridiculous error.

Salathiel Dille & George Taylor, of Wheeling, give notice that they have formed a copartnership under the firm name of Dille & Taylor. Their warehouse is situated near Major Sprigg's Tavern. They have for sale the following articles: "Castings, Bar iron, Pig & Bar lead, Shot, Tobacco, Powder, Oysters by the keg, Glass, Whiskey, Apple Brandy, Gin, Cordial & Flour." The earnest seeker after the interesting establishment kept by Messrs. Taylor & Dille will find it in Wheeling, according to the above directions—"near Major Sprigg's tavern."

But "Major Sprigg's tavern," and Taylor & Dille's warehouse are both among the things that were—and nineteen-twentieths of the present inhabitants of Wheeling never heard of Messrs. Taylor & Dille's warehouse, or "Maj. Sprigg's tavern."

Observe what a beautiful variety of articles Messrs. Taylor & Dille have on sale. Quite ahead of the capacity of any Wheeling store of the present day, however grand its pretensions.

Israel Brown offers the liberal reward of one cent for the apprehension of Silas Black, a runaway apprentice to the shoe making. Silas at the time of his departure was 19 years old. As Silas is now, if living, a stout boy of 47 years, he can return to town without fear of Israel, who does not live here at present—but, no doubt—tired of tinkering other men's soles, he is now "where the weary are at rest."

John Scatterday gives notice that he has removed his office from the 'Rising Sun,' tavern, to the brick building opposite Caldwell's & Pickering's stores. Well do we remember Squire B. In field the scales of justice in this town for above a quarter of a century, and his highest reward was the praise of "well done" as his name was mentioned with that noble plaudit—"an honest man." Full of years, honored of men, and fearing God, he went down to the grave.

Andrew White gives notice that if persons indebted to him do not settle in one week, their accounts will be left with the proper officer for collection. No doubt all Andrew White's credits were at last settled, affording him sufficient funds to "pay the debt of nature."

Quite an imposing advertisement of "Mr. & Mrs. Eckstein's Seminary for the education of Young ladies" in Wheeling, occupies a column and more of the Journal. "Mr. & Mrs. Eckstein's Seminary for the Education of Young Ladies," we believe has been discontinued for a few years past—25 or more—and is succeeded by the "Wheeling Female Seminary"—which, although its advertisements do not say "for the education of Young Ladies"—is nevertheless engaged in that exceedingly laudable occupation. It is, by the way, one of the best Seminaries in the West—Mrs. Thompson's, we mean, not "Mr. & Mrs. Eckstein's."

cure all the "ills that human flesh is heir to."

No doubt he has, ere this realized that "Death will seize the Doctor too."

A short paragraph informs us that a bill for the construction of a canal to connect the Ohio River and Lake Erie, has been reported in the Ohio Legislature. The canal has been constructed these many years, and even pronounced old fogyish, by this age of steam.

A most admirable type of old fogyism, art thou, Oh Journal! While the world has been flying by on the wings of vapor, propelled by lightning, you have tenaciously clung to 'first principles,' and let the world go by. Quite a contempt for this age, thou hast shown, oh, Journal, by not even noticing its progress from your quiet retreat.

Since you came into the world mighty changes, such as you never dreamed of have taken place—steamboats (then there were but 10 on the western waters,) dot every river, and railways compass every county. The telegraph with nerves of iron, and lightning for a nervous fluid flashes its thoughts from the centre to the circumference of the entire globe. Paine's Water Light arose flourished (?)-died. Ericsson built his ship and it has paddled away into the depths of the ocean. The Missouri compromise line, against which you so solemnly protested has been set aside, and, the bloodhounds of Slavery have been unkenneled in the virgin soil once solemnly devoted to Freedom. England and France, in your day at sword's points now meet lovingly at Dover, and kiss each other: together they fight, and bleed, and die in the Crimea, and together they are buried.

Adieu, old fogy, for the present, we may again call you from your hiding place, and give you an airing in our columns. Thus much for holiday.