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PUBLISHED 81-WEEKLY. VOLUME 11. fjwtttj. For the Georgia Collegian. To Lucy, When soft the moon is shining Down from the summer sky, And Southern pines are sighing From zephyrs moving by; Like chimes of music pealing O'er waters of the sea ; Then o’er my heart come stealing Sweet memories of thee. No joys like those resemble Spent in my College days, When o’er my heart did tremble Love’s softest dawning rays. ’Twas then thy spirit guiding, Taught mine to live and be ; And now come o’er me gliding Sweet memories of thee. I know no joy excelling, E’en when I’m full of glee; And thoughts are fondly dwelling On ’morrows bright and free; Than on the past while gazing As on a dark, wide sea, Te hear the wave-notes raising Sweet memories of thee. Fragrance from roses faded, Still lingers ’round their tomb; And joys with thee once tasted— To die is not their doom. And thus ’round me will hover In sadness or in glee; Till life’s full course is over, Sweet memories of thee. Sept. 27, 1870. Hubert. For the Geongia Collegian. RESIGNATION. BY MARION. CHAP. I. In the most populous portion of County, Geo., stands a small, ivy-clad cottage, whose humble, yet tasteful surroundings win admiration from every passing eye. Winding up the avenue of slender poplars, and entering the rustic gate, the beauty around draws the heart “rom nature up to nature’s God This garden is a little Eden of love and beauty; ’tis here the sweetest violets open their soft, blue eyes; here the purest lilies roar their state ly heads; and hero the finest flower ets of Spring whisper a promise of the bright days which are coming.— Cross the vine-wreathed threshold— the same attractive taste presides in the cottage ; the spotless, bar-e floors; the cool muslin curtains; the simple furniture; all tell the story of a con tented spirit, even in “ poverty’s vale.” Orderly arrangement, scru pulous neatness, and the small, but well selected library, teach that reli gion, refinement and intelligence dwell in that humble home. This is only a woman’s little kingdom, but at the bidding of the gentle queen, her handmaidens, love, beauty and CLIMBING THE HEIGHTS. ATHENS, GEORGIA, OCT. 15,1870. order, have made a homo which a king might envy. We have been thus particular in describing the dwelling of Mrs. Moore, that the reader may obtain, in advance, some knowledge of that lady’s character ; and also to give an index—as good as he can be found in the anpearanco of a home—of her motherly care of everything. With such knowledge of the mother, we can certainly form some idea of what the child will be; for from early in fluences, man imbibes the traits of character which he evinces in after life. At noon Mrs. Moore is sitting by a small table sewing. Her face wears a ead expression ; yet you are im pressed that with this sadness there is mingled a Christian resignation.— She occasionally raises her eye3 to* ward her little daughter, who is pro paring dinner. When the meal is announced ready, the mother lays aside her work to meet her two sons, just entering the open hall. She smiles with delight; and when we know more of the boys, we cannot wonder at the mother’s pride soon in the fond look. Walter and Eobert, are their names. How low and sweet are the tones of the mother as she utters the names of her sons ! Their happy faces indicate at once, health, hope and affection. Since early dawn, they have been laboring in the farm ; yet they do not seem fatigued, as they are now seated at the table, and, by their cheerful conversation, give relish to the simple meal. Often, as Mrs. Moore gazed fondly on the noble features of Walter, her eyes would involuntarily fill with tears. His pure, unruffled brow his dark eyes, so full of tenderness, and his whole face, so near the image of another, would remind her of the “ long ago.” ’Twas a little more than twenty years, since Mr. Moore made his first passionate avowals of love, and he was just nineteen—Wal ter’s age now—when she gave him her “ hand with her heart.” Her husband was now sleeping in the cold embrace of the grave, and his impress on her child would cause her to re-, vert to those happy days of yore. The father of Mrs. Moore, was a man of humble means; but she, being the only child, possessed advantages superior to daughters of many weal thier farmers. Her education was thorough, and her mind was early moulded to receive the principles of religion. She grew up loving and being loved. So Mr. Moore fully re alized his expectations; nor did he ever regret taking to his heart and home, the gentle Amie Lee. Their married life was indeed happy. The gentleness of the wife well accorded with the devoted attachment of the husband; and the ever opening of heart to heart made them insepara bly one. Nothing occurred.to mar the haps piness of their Eden like homo, until their third child was born. The ten der infant had scarcely opened its eyes ere the Grim Monster snatched it from the mother’s breast. There were no murmuring words, but the hollow eye and the pale -cheek of Mrs. Moore told how deeply she felt the unexpected stroke. Just twelve months more had passed away, when another little daughter came to cheer the mother’s stricken heart. The eyes of the fond father, as he held the little darling in his arms, expressed much joy ; and the brothers grew en<- thusiastic in their expressions of wel come to the sister. Little Nora (that was the name of the babe,) soon be came the pet of the household, win ning, by her sweet disposition, the affection of all. She made the home perfec.’j happy again, and ’twas not until after her tenth birth day, that the severe illness of her father dark ened the future hopes of the family. Mr. Moore was suddenly seized by a malignant fever; and with the most skillful physicians in attendance, and the nursing of the best of wives, he gradually sunk. Day after day the agonized wife watched over him, on ly to see the eyes that never mot hers but with love, close at last in death None but she who has been similarly afflicted, can estimate the heart wringing sorrow of Mrs. Moore at this trying hour—as she wipes away the cold dew of death, which is gath ering on his brow and moistens the icy hand with her tears, sho knows she is soon to be widowed of his earthly affection. For days, sho yielded to despair, and wildly prayed that'she might be laid in the grave with her husband The children felt, as keenly as chil dren can, the death of their father; and Walter, the oldest, in hushing his own murmurs, endeavored to comfort his mother. One day, after she had given vent to the grief of her almost bursting heart, he came to her anh putting his arm affectionately around her neck, kissed away the burning tear, and said, “ Dear mother, you have Nora, Hubert, and myself still to lovo you; don’t yield to such wild grief. What would wo do without your love and care? Nora thinks you too are go ing to die, and is inconsolablo.” TERMS---$2.50 PER ANNUM. NUMBER 5. It seemed that Mrs. Moore, in her unabated mourning for her lost hus band, had forgotten her duty to her children. Walter’s touching appeal, therefore, seemed to arouse her, and she replied sadly, 11 1 have my son, been too sefflsh in the indulgence of my grief, but will now cheer up. You remind me truly that I have much to live for.” Several weeks after the death of Mr. Muore, his friend, Mr. Head, to whose charge he committed his finan cial affairs, came to assume the charge thus imposed upon him. Ass ter a careful examination of Mr. Moore’s papers, he told Mrs. Moore, as gently as he could, that her hus band’s property would be barely suf ficient to pay his debts and buy an humble homo for herself and chil dren. Tears rolled down the cheeks of the kind hearted man as he added, “ I will assist yon all I can ; don’t be troubled while there is such a pro mise as ‘ The righteous shall never be forsaken, ner his seed beg for bread.’ ” Mrs Moore murmured her thanks, and wept bitterly. The future, fraught with unaccustomed toil and privations, came, crowding into her mind such thoughts as these—“ We will bo sorely tried ; my children and myself will have to labor hard for a support ; then, they must bo educa ted, and how, God only knows. Wal ter is now sixteen, and it will soon be beyond my power to instruct him.” As she uttered the last, Mr. Head kindly proffered to assist Walter in prosecuting his studies. Walter and Eobert entered the room at this moment, and seeing their mother's tears, asked what was the matter. Putting her arm around each of her boys, she told them of the loss of property and of her fears for the future. 4 Mother,” said Walter, “ don’t cry any more, wo will work hard ; and then” — The boy’s eyes filled with tears, and ho could, with difficulty utter what he would saj T —“it is hard to leave this dear old homo, associa ted as it is with so many fond mem ories ; but we can he happy in an humbler one. Be cheerful then, dear mother; lean on me; I am strong; and my lovo for you can’t he ex~ pressed. Let mo see your face wear its accustomed smile ; it dees not 100 k like vours, so clouded with sorrow.” The assuring tones of the noble boy caused her sad heart to trust, at and participate in his hopes. She began t,o prepare for the sale of her hus band’s effects. Everything was as-i sociated with the happiness of the