Newspaper Page Text
UNIVERSITY OF GEORGIA LIBRARY
VOLUME II.
NUMBER 7
PUBLISHED WEEKLY,
BY JOHN H. CHRISTY,
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
Terms of Subscription.
TWO DOLLARS per annum, if paid htrictly in aj
itaca: otherwise,THREE DOLLARS will be chirped
\t7j~ In order that the price ul the papei inay not be in
tbs wayofa large circulation, Clubs will be supplied
st the lui'.owing low rates.
iJ^SIX^OPIESfor - - -
M these low rates, the Cash must accompany the order.
AT COST FOR CASH!
WING to a change in our business, we of
fer our stock of
Rates of Advertising.
Transient advertisements will be inserted at One
Dollar per.square for the first, and Fifty Cents per square
for each subsequent insertion.
Legal and yearly advertisements at the usual rates
Candidates will be charged $5 for announcements,
and obituary noticesexeeeuingsix lines in length will
be charged as advertisements.
When the numher of insertions is not markedon and
edvertisement, it will be published till forbid, and
charged accordingly.
^usintas null ^rnfossinnnl tola
JOHN hT (ThiTiSTY^
PLAIN AND FANCY
Book and Job Printer,
“ Franklin Job Office,” Athens, Ga.
•*, All work entrusted to his care faithfully, correctly
and punctually executed, at prices cowespond-
janl8 ing with the hard ness W the times. tf
C. 1J
LOMBARD
DENTIST,
ATHWS, GEORGIA.
Rooms over the Store of Wilson tc Veal. Jan3
PITNER & ENGLAND. *
Wholesale & Retail Dealersi u
Groceries, Dry Goods,
HARE H ARE, SHOES AND BOOTS,
April 6 Athexs, Ga.
MOORE & CARLTON,
DEAI.EGS IX
SILK, FANCY AND STAPLE GOOJ)S,
HA RD WARE AND CROCKER Y.
April No. 3, Granite Row. Athens, Ga.
LUCAS & BILLUPS,
WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALERS IN
DRY GOODS,
GROCERIES, HARDWARE, Ac. Ac
No. 2, Broaii Street. Athens.
0
Dry Goods, Shoes, Hard
ware, Hats, Caps and
Crockeryware,
and tnnuy other desirable goods, at cost, for
cash. Persons wishing bargains will do well to
CALL SOON.
B»“A9 there will be a change iu our busi
ness, we desire all persons indebted to us, ei
ther by note or open account, to call soon
and yettle. Respectfully whim,
.in-, i W. F. «L J."U.TintNER.
ftlisrellmnj.
FASHIONABLE
Ready-made Clothing.
LILLY LEIGH—A BEAUTIFUL
STORY.
BY MARION IIARLANE *
►“Oh 1 many a hopeless love, like this,may be,
For love will live, that never looks to win
Gems rashly lost in Passion’s stormy sea.
Not to be lifted forth when once cast in !”
Mrs. Noetox,
“ Letters, sir!”
The merchant withdrew his eyes from
his ledger, as they were laid upon the
desk. There was n large package—
some stamped with foreign postmarks—
some bulky with “ monev enclosed”—
inscribed in every variety of business
handwriting; and from among the broad
yellow and brown envelopes, peeped
out one much smaller, of pure white,
and directed in a lady’s delicate charac
ters. He took it up.
“It seems familiar, yet I cannot say
that 1 know the hand—what name ?”
He turned the sheet—'* Lilly Leigh!”
As if the waves of time had reversed
their motion, came rolling in upon him
a spring tide of memories; panoramas
of youth’s own coloring; mountains
BAYNON & RICH
A RE now receiving and offering for sale a
large and beautiful assortment of ready
made clothing,for men and buys, ofthe latest
fashion, and of the most approved style of
goods, suitable for the fatl and winter trade. _ _
Among them will be found a fine supply of I green to their very tops; forests full of
gentlemen's coats, pants and vests, very tine,
und of the most fashionable style, made to
order, and of the best work, fully equal to
customer work.
--..ALSO.*..
A general assortment of Furnishing goods,
such as hats,caps, shirts and drawers, under
shirts of various qualities, stocks, cravats,
handkerchiefs and ties, collars, gloves, half
hose and umbrellas. Also, Trunks, valises,
and carpel bags.
....ALSO
nooks and purling rills, and untracea-
ble labyrinths ; orchards blushing with
peach blossoms; wide reaching mea
dows of odorous clover; and a white
village etnbosomec in trees passed before
him, moving to music unheard of late,
except in dreams—music of glancing
feet and flute-like laughter, and the
heart’s utterance of affection. '* Lilly
Leigh !” In those days, the pretty alii-
STAPLE DRY GOODS.
repeat it again and again, while she was
yet a stranger; and alter his ear had be
come accustomed to the sound, be lov
ed to conjure up, by its repetition, the
cd Canton flannel, 3 4,7-8,4-4. Shirtings of v i s j on Q f th 0 s e arch or earnest eyes, that
various qualtiies, Irish linen for diapers •
Among which will he found black alpacca,
plaid and checked ginghams, plaid and check
ed muslins, calicoes and shirtings, 5-4, 10-4,
11-4, of a very fine quality. Red, blue and
white flannels, all wool. Brown and bleach
WILLIAM G. DELONY,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Office over the store til IVni M. Morton Sc Son
Will attend promptly to all busiuesseutrust-
cd to his care. Athens, April 6
P. C. LANGSTON,
Attorney nt Law,
C.1RNES V1LLE, GA.
Refeuexcks.—C. Peeples.Esq. )
W. L. Mitchell, Esq. \ Athcus
Col. B.F.IIardemau, Lexington,
Samuel Freeman, Esq. Newnan,
(labrid Sash, B»q. lisnitlrriHe
Col. H. Uolsey, Ainericus.
1\ A. SUMMEY & BROTHER,
Wholesale and Retail Dealers in
Staple Goods, Hardware, Crockery,
AND ALL KINDS OF GROCERIES,
Corner of Wall and Broad streets, Athens.
* WILLIAM N. AVIIITE,
WHOLESALE AXP RETAIL
BOOKSELLER AND STATIONER,
AndNcwnpapcr andj\lagaiine Agent.
DEALER IX
MUSIC and MUSICAL INSTRUMENl'S
LAMPS, KINE CUTLERY, FANCY GOODS, AC.
No. 2, College Avenue, Newton House, Athens, Ga
sign of •• While’s University Bookstore.”
Orders promptly filled at Augusta rates.
tTbisiiop & SON,
Wholesale and Retail Grocers,
April 6 No. 1, Broad street, Athens.
JAMES M. ROYAL,
HARNESS-M AKER,
H AS removed his shop to Mitchell’s old
Tavern, one door east of Grady & Nich-
olsou’s—where he keeps always on hand a
general assortment of articles inhisline, aud
is always ready to fillordersinthe best style.
Jan 26 tf
LOOK HERE!
T HE undersigned have on hand a general
assortment of
STAPLE DRY GOODS,
GROCERIES AND HARDWARE.
which they will sell low for cash or barter
Cull and examine.
April 13 P. A. SUMMEY & BRO.
$150 to $200 per Month!!
I WILL send instructions by which auy
person can make from $150 to $200 per
month, without traveling or peddling, and
with the smallest amount of capital. This is
no receipt of any kind whatever. I will for
ward the above instructions and all the arts
and receipts of value, as advertised in the
different papers of the United States, free of
postage, to nny person sending me the small
•um of one dollar, post paid.
E. S. SHIPLEY, Kingston,
Df( V Ross Count/, Ohio.
black, white, mixed and made hoes for ladies,
and Misses; also a fine lot of ladies plaid
long shawls, very fine, all wool, and many
other articles not mentioned.
All of the above goods mill be sold as cheap
as they can lie bought in Georgia, and we re
spectfully solicit a liberal portion of public
patronage, and would invite all our friend
and former patrons to give us a call and ex
amine our goods and prices, we shall not fear
the result. Be sure to call at the New Cloth
ing Store,on Broad street, Athens, Ga.
Oct. 12.
NEWCL0THING!
rpllE undersigned are uow receiving and
X opeuing their
Spring Stock o£ Clotking,
at their old staud, oposite the Pusl-Oifice on
college avenue, Athens, Georgia, where they
will be glad to see all of their friends and
customers, aud any one who wants to buy
I^GOOD AND CHEAP^FI
m 'us .si •■•a ■■ to '■ "an
Their stock has been selected from the best
manufacturers in New York, and being
bought near the close of the season, they
were bought from eight to twelve per cent,
cheaper than those bought earlier in the
season. We therefore confidently believe
that we will sell you goods a little cheaper
than you can buy the same article at any
other store in the place. Our stoclf consists
of all kinds of
MEN’S WEAR,
Such os Black and Fancy colored Frock
and business Coats;
Black and fancy colored Cassimere Pants,
and all kinds of black thin Coats and Pants;
Also brown Buff and White Linen Coats
and Pants;
Also a general variety of Vests of all the
differentkinds; and a good assortment of
BOYS’ CLOTHING.
Also men’s Shirts antidrawers, undershirts,
silk and gauze;
Shirt collars, and collar boxes, Stocks,
Cravats, and Handkerchiefs, Cotton and
Linen;
Half-hose; Linen,Silk and Kid Gloves, of
all kinds; also Portmonies, uid silk Purses,
and Hair, Hnt and Coat Brushes, and pocket
and coarse Combs; also a good assortment
of Gingham and black and colored Silk, and
Umbrellas and Carpet Bags, and Trunks.
We have constantly on hand the very best
chewing Tobacco and fine Cigars, a good as
sortment. We invite all buyers of the above
articles to call and see us and let us show
you our goods. WILSON A VEAL.
May 4
Coack-Making and Repairing.
JAMES bTbURPEE,
A T the old stand recently occupied by R. S.
Scheveuell, offers for sale a lot of superi
or articles of his own manufacture, ut redu
ced prices—consisting ot
Carriages, Buggies, &c.
Orders for any thing in his line thankfully
received and promptly executed.
^©“Repairing done at short notice and on
reasonable terms.
DISSOLUTION:
will be continued by J. II. Christy—by whom the debts
of the late concern will be paid, and who alone is au
thorized to collect the demands due to it.
JOHN H. CHRISTY,
Athens, Jsn II 1855. WILLIAM KELSEA.
NOTICE.
T HE subscribers arc prepared to fill orders
for all kinds of
Spokes for Carriages and Wagons,
Also, nt the same establishment we manufac
ture all kinds of
BOBBINS,
commonly used in our cotton factories. All
done as good und cheap as can he had from
tho North. Address,
P. A. SUMMEY & BUO. Athens, G*.
who will ntteud to all orders, und the ship-
ping of the same. March, 1854.
F RESH Gandies and Maple Sugar, receiv
ed this day and for sale by
Apl 10.
1>. N. JUD30N.
Pay up! Pay up!
T HE undersigned most earnestly requests all persons
indebted to the late Anns of CHairrv.KsuEi tc
Busks, and ChbistySc Kkub*—as also those owing
him individually—to Pay up at oner: Many of
these claims have been outstanding a long time, and iu
mustabsolutely be settled without delay.
He trusts that a sense of right and justice will lead
every one indebted to settle np immediately If, how
ever. it shall turn out that be is mistaken in this, he will
be forced, however reluctantly, to“ try what virtue
8
here is iu’
Janie
J. U. CHRISTY.
TAKE NOTICE.
A CCOUNTS for the last quarter are now
due, and payment thereof required. My
terms are cash, or three months.
Ap5 WM. N. WHITE.
C A Bags of new crop Rio Coffee, for sale,
UU low, by T. Bishop Son.
March 22.
P RESERVES—Ginger and Chow-chow
Preserves, and all sorts of PICKLES,for
sale by P. A SUMMEY & BRO.
to a mere acquaintance said so little
to a friend, so much ; or the fascination
of the smile that circled her mouth like
a golden ripple upon the waters, Joy
ous spite though she was, there were
now and then flashes of poetic gems and
glimpses of thought, mines that betray-
ed the secrets of the inner world. They
were kindred minds—therefore, friends
But why this letter ? He read. The
first line banished the color from his
cheek ; concern turned fast to surprise
1o deep, dcon gi'ud-—to remorse—auA
more than one large tear blurred the
pages ere it was concluded.
“ They have told me that I must die;
it may he to day—it may be for weeks
but that my time upon earth is very,
very shqft They broke it to me care
fully, lest dread of death should hasten
his approach. They did not know that
to me he has long been in sight; not ns
he appears generally to the young—a
speck upon the horizon, terrorless in
his remoteness and uncertainty; but,
sleeping or waking, for three^years, he
has never left my side. I have notacourt-
cd his presence; ot that sin I am guilt
less, although sorely tempted. I did
not bare my bosom to the stroke, but I
do not recoil from his iron clutch, i
lament over my wasted life and misdi
rected energies, yet I do not pray to live.
Heaven is opening above me—earth
crumbling under my feet ; strange that
my half-relased soul clings to its earthly
loves! It will, not let them go. I would
not be forgotten—1 cannot bear to think
that my memory will decay with iny
body. I would have it kept fresh as the
sods that will close over my form—not
watered with tears, but with the dews
of peaceful remembrance, and brigh
tened by hope’s sunlight. To one, my
spirit turns with irrepressible longings
—I. would once more look upon your
face!
Doyou remember one summer after
noon that we spent together in the beach-
wood ?—The spot is before me now—
the interlacing boughs, the shaded pool,
dark, unless one stood directly above it,
and then, far into its depths might be
seen shining pebbles and snow-white
sands; the fringe tree bowing to kiss
its image on the glassy surface; the moss
grown bench of stone 1 Have you for
gotten these? The only sound save
ripple of the stream, was your voice as
you read a mournful story of temptation,
of persecution for truth’s sake—“The
Forest Sanctuary.” I leaned against
the sacred stem of the old beech. Tears
now and then stole down my cheeks,
but I was happy ; I dreamed as I had no
right to dream—that this, our sanctua
ry, was ours alone. I thought how wel
come would suffering and exile he, with
love to console and guide. Passing
lovely was the woven tissue, aud like the
beaded gossamer at morning, a single
touch destroyed it forever. You put
by the book aud spoke. Still I listened
unawakened. You told of trials that
had visited even your young heart, and
fancy sprang forward to the anticipation
of the precious privilege of comforting
that heart, in every distress, the future
had instore. Then came the history of
a sister—your twin sister—‘young, lov
ing and beloved'—who had faded with
the spring flowers, and was laid to rest
amid the summer’s bloom—above whose
head the magnolia’s petals were not
more stainless tliau her soul, nor more
fragiant than her opening heart. I wept
because your voice grew unsteady and
one else had penetrated, since Emily
died—would 1 take her place? Asa
sister you loved me—I must return a
brother’s love.’ I could have shrieked
as the words tore through my brain, but
l sat, shocked, and’paralyzed. Black
ness curtained me on every side ; I saw
no more the sun nor the distant bright
fields, or the glossy loilage above—all of
light and beauty was gone 1 My eyes
were drawn to the pool—so still and
deep—and I thought of the Dead Sea
that had swallowed up my dreamland.
Its salt waves dashed up to my lips ; but
when I beat them back ! a wild longing
crept over me; and sand asJ pebbles
were the only bright things Vft; ope
could sleep so sweetly witfi lhit waters
fora winding sheet; sleep! and never
awake to misery 1 Once I had nearly
made the plunge, but nature trembled
upou the brink, and you arose, with a
jesting inquiry as to the water-spirits I
seemed to seek. A jest! Back—back
returned my strength and pride—the
child had passed in that one moment in
to the woman ! “ Lilly !” you said, ’you
do not scorn my proposal V ’No ;’ I
answered distinctly ; ‘I am proud of it.’
‘You will call me ‘Horace’—not ‘Mr.
Merely,’ now, Lilly ?’ And 1 smiled as
I repeated ‘Horace, brother!’
“The rest ofourparty returned from
their woodland ramble, and night only
checked the revel that followed—and I
led the dance and song. Man may
mourn for love unrequited, aud find
commiseration ; woman must bury hers
in seciet, and plant gaudy flowers and
burn flaming torches about its tomb.
Men pity with a pity more humbling
than contempt; and her own sex, in their
relentless ostracism of one who has
given unsought, that which the most ab
ject idolatry should hardly win, are steel
ed against her. There is, at heart, a
stern satisfaction in contemplating the
due measure of punishment heaped up
on the traitress. I was aware of all this ;
1 may have felt something of it myself
in happier days end I guarded my se
cret as hundreds of others have done;
for suffering has made me wiser and
more tender. 1 have seen the gladness
go out from young eyes, and restless
anguish take its place; have heard, be
tween peals of mirth, the sigh, like the
discord of a broken harp-string; have
watched the sinking of body and mind,
that baffled human skill ; and l know
that an aching heart answered mine,
pang Tor pang. Ohs deride'not this
most sacred of sorrows! Like the foun
tain of Undine, the removal of the stone
that conceals it, brings swift death to
the unhappy Possessor.
“You sought your city home in the
autumn; it was not until mid-winter,that
the slight cold, brought on by exposure
upon some gala night, assumed a type
that awoke the solicitude of my friends
To allay their feaas, I nursed my phy
sical ailment; I bad no hope myself; the
wish to live, that poteut auxiliary to the
physician’s art, was wanting. Nature
could not he restored without it.
“ The rest is soon told I am here
in my chamber, on this balmy afternoon
supported by pillows, instead of roving
in the free nir and glorious sonsliine.or
coursing through the country upon my
Blank Declarations,
O F both forms, (long and short) together
with the process attached—just printed
otKtr°Blaiiks ** Also ’ TariouB J sunk beneath the bru Jen of emotion, and
P^TAnv Blanks not on hand—as, indeed,
j you thanked me for my sympathy.
^almost any kind of job printing—can be fur-1 bad ‘ gone farther into the holiest reces-
! hished on a few hours’ notice.- | ses of your heart,’ you said, ‘than any
noble gray. These attenuated fingers
will never grasp his rein again. I shall
sit no more by the shaded spring !
• ••**•
“ You will not despise me for having
written this; in so doing, 1 am guided
by no blind impulse. Earthly frailties
and prejudices will soon be to me ns
though they had never existed, and the
love, for which I do not blush before
Him in whose presence I hope to dwell
forever, does not shame me. It may
have been weakness at first—it is not
sin now. Something tells me that you
should know it—perchance in the day
of trial it will recur to you, bringing
reassurance and comfort: it may teach
you that there is affection unswayed by
interested motives; that devotion unto
death,’ is no unmeaning phrase. And
when one, fairer and dearer, shall walk
lovingly on with you, cherish her for my
sake! 1 shall not be far away; the
happiness, which in life I would have
sacrified all to promote, can never be
forgotten. She will hold it injjher hands-
may she be worthy of the trust—and
love you as I have done!
“ It is hard to write. ‘ Farewell!’ if
I could see you for but one hour 1 It
may not be—His will be done! We
shall meet again—if not here, here
after! Lilly Leigh.”
She did not bint a reproach, but he
felt like a murderer. He recollected
how unreservedly be had abandoned
himself to the luxury of that long vaca
tion from town and business—how
when he found h<*r society the most
choice recreation the country could offer
he had sought it constantly, not attempt
ing to disguise the pleasure it gave him
he had even assured her that he was
free from all pre-engagement, and smiled
as he marked the deepening rose on her
face, at this uncalled for avowal; he had
left untried no art of pleasing; and she
an artless girl—almost a child, ignorant
of “ flirtations” and “ conquests,” and
dreaming only of love! Every word
pierced him to the soul. The whole
world were valueless in comparison with
this true heart, but the knowledge of its
possession had come too late!
“ Mother, I should like to l'e on the
couch by the window.”
“ But, ray love, the evening air—
“ It cannot hurt me now.” •
The mother turned away her head,
but she offered no further objection, and
the change was made.
The siek girl lay looking out into the
purplish grey twilight of a June evening.
A few stars twinkled through the thin
wreaths of vapor, raised by the heat of
the sun from the teeming earth ; the
breeze had died away at sunset, and the
catalpas, with their broad leaves pen
cilled darkly against the faintly illumi
nated west, looked almost awful in their
perfect repose; but from the ground
went up a hymn, as from a thousand
fairy trumpeters, piping their paeans of
praise and thankfulness. Each blade
of grass had its insect musician, and the
wailing note of the whip-poor-will,
softened by distance, mingled not ur.-
harmoniously in the concert. It was
an hour such as makes the soul in love
with life and this lovely earth, an hour
for thoughts of love and joy and hope.
What were the meditations of her, upon
whom death had set his visible seal—
doomed in the morn of existence to for
sake this world of warmth and beauty,
for the damps and shades of the grave ?
There was no apprehension in the pale,
sweet face; no despondency in her tone
when she at last spoke.
“ I am very happy to-night, mother.”
“ And why, my darling ?"
“Everything is so beautiful, and
within there is such peace ! The veil is
growing thinner and thinner; there are
tones in the air that I never heard in the
evening song before ; my timo is draw
ing near. Perhaps I shall not see
another sunset—those angel voices will
call me away. Mother, oh, mother! say
that you are willing to let me go.”
There was no response in words, only
a choking sob and a passionate straining
of the fragile form to her bosom.
“ It will not be for long. Think of
the rapture of our meeting after a few
days of separation, and the bliss of our
eternal communion ! There will be no
tears, no partings, no wounded spirits
there.”
“ My child! my child 1 pray that
may submit.”
“I have prayed; you will be sup
ported,” said the girl, with a look of
sublime confidence. “ He has given
his promise, ‘ I will not leave you com
fortless’ You will have my blessings
lelt.’ I, of all your flock, have occas
ioned you most anxiety. You do forgive
tnr, dear mother ?'■
“ Why speak of forgiveness, my own
one? You have always been dutiful
and affectionate.” .
“ Still, I have brought hi;ter sorrow
upon you. I review with shame and
contrition my self-indulgence, my reck
lessness of life, my ungrateful rebellion
at my lot. These are things belonging
to the past: you will forget them ; or,
if you remember, believe that it was not
without a struggle that I yielded to feel
ings too strong for me to subdue. It is a
sad story, mother. 1 will not grieve you
further by telling it, you might think
hardly of another for his agency in
producing my unhappiness: and I alone
am to blame.”
The poor mother neither comprehend
ed nor wondered ; grief mastered curi
osity. Her child . was dying—this
thought swallowed up t-very other.
Voices sounded in the adjoining room—
agitated questions and low replies. The
invalid started, unaided from her pillow
“ Father, I thank thee !” k she exclaim
ed, as she sank back.
A sister stole in to announce the arri
val ; a single glance told her that it was
teedless precaution. She simply asked,
“ May he come in ?”
A gesture assented.
“ Horace!”
“ Lilly 1”
For a long time these were the only
words of greeting.
They watched her through all that
night; each felt that it was her last.
There was unutterable sorrow in that
chamber. The hoary-licaded father
stood at the foot of the bed, erect and
dignified still, in figure, but with big
tears making yet deeper the furrows
of his time-worn countenance; the
mother and sisters stifling, as far as
possible, their emotions, hung around her,
jealously watchful of an opportunity to
render the kind offices she would soon
need no more, On none did the terri
ble conviction of her near departure seem
to fall with such crushing weight as
upon the wbilome brilliant worldling.
He bathed the wasted hands with tears,
and covered the burning brow with
kisses. He prayed—if that could be
called prayer, which reproached rather
than supplicated—a frenzied pleading
for life—her life—if purchased by an
age of torment to himself!
In vain 1 in vain! The death-dews
arose thickly to her forehead as fast as
they were wiped away. She was going!
calm and lovely to the last—too weak
at times to speak, but telling, by her
heavenly smile and uplifted eye, of
sable weeper, ceased to agitate the from his existence, her tears bedew his
minds of his business acquaintances and j grave. Can I look down upon her tomb-
the tongues of his female friends. The'without emotion? Man has always
dejection w’ore away by degrees, the justice done to his memory—woman
weeper grew rusty ; was removed and j never. The pages of history lie open to-
not replaced; the billows of worldly ! the one ; but the meek and unobtrusive
passion and interest swelled higher and ! excellencies of the other sleep with her
higher around the once green island of
bis heart, until they engulphed it—not
sparing even her flower-bound grave.
He was a man again 1 with a man’s glo
rious prerogatives, to make a mock at
feelingand affection.and borrow their lan
guage to deceiv e a trusting dupe; to
scout at romance,and battle in liis own
omnipotence with realities; to heap to
gether wealth,and write his name proudly
among the earthly great; all these he
did and gained. And Lilly sleeps in the
obscure churchyard ; the green hillock
that covers her, overrun with violet and
the blue-eyed “ forget-me-not,” although
untended now by him; and at her head
are engraved words-placed there by(his
orders, during the first transports of
sorrow for which he despises himself
now ; words, which, in view of his dust-
dry heart, read like a fulfilled pro
phecy—
“Blessed are the early dead i”
Richmond Va.
♦Authoress of “Alone”—a Virginia novel.
unnoticed in the grave. In her hare
shone the genius of the poet, with the
virtue of the saint; the energy of the
man with the tender softness of the
woman.
HEROISM OF A WIFE.
During the late dreadftd tornado
which passed over Mississippi,' tearing
up trees, blowing down houses and kill
ing cattle, an incident occurred near
Paulding, in that Slate, which is worthy
of record :
A young married couple were alone
in the forest, occupants of a new home,
and distant two miles from the nearest
neighbor. They had retired to rest,
and were absorbed in slumber, when
the roar of the hurricane, like a sono
rous wailing through the primeval trees,
and fierce wind struck their house tum
bling the logs around and about them.
The lady, after much effort, succeeded
in extricating herself, but found to her
momentary dismay, that her husband
was entombed in the wreck of their
dwelling, and that it would be impossi
ble for her to relieve him unaided. She
reflected but a moment, when, turning
to her husband, she uttered some cheer
ing words, and announced her determi
nation to go in quest of assistance,
Forth she went, in the midst of the
howling storm, the winds singing a re
quiem over the ruin they had caused
and the stately trees still crashing in
their fall before the omnipotence of the
tempest. But she heeded not the dan
ger; buoyed by a strong affection, she
moved onward, an incarnation of hero-
ismjand self sacrificing love, through the
hurricane’s track, and reached unharm
ed the residence of her neighbor. As
sistance was procured, and her husband
restored to as true a wife as ever hal
lowed with felicities the life of man
An Irish lawyer having lost his client’s
case, which had been tried before three
judges, one of whom was esteemed a
very able lawyer, and the other two but
indifferent ones, some of the other bar
risters indulged iu a good deal of mer
riment on the occasion.
“ Well, now,” said the vanquished
counsellor, “who the devil could help it,
hen there were a hundred judges on
the bench ?"
A hundred,” said a by-standsr,
why, man, there was but three.”
“ By St. Patrick,” replied the defeat
ed lawyer, “ and how do you make out
there’s only three ? There were one
and two cyphers."
A MOTHER’S PRAYER.
A mother had heard ofthe arrival of
her sailor-boy outside the Cape, and was
awaitiug his return with the anxiety a
mother alone can know. With faith
strong in God, she prayed for his safety.
News came that the vessel was lost..
The father, an unconverted man, who
had preserved a sullen silence, now
wept aloud. The mother observed,
He is in the hand of Him who doellt
all things well,” and again the subdued
and softened spirit bowed, commending
her son and her husband, in an audible
voice, to God.
In the morning, the little gate in front
of the dwelling turned on its hinges,the
door opened, and their son, their lost,
loved son, stood before them. The ves
sel had been driven into one of the har
bors on the coast, and was safe. The.
father rushed to meet him. His mother,
hanging on his neck, earnestly exclaim
ed, “ My child, how came you here ?”
* Mother,” said he, as the tears cours
ed down his sun-burnt face, “ I knew
you'd pray me home."
What a spectacle : a wild, reckless
youth, acknowledging the efficacy of
prayer. It seems he was aware of his
perilous situation, and that he labored
with the thought, “My mother prays ;
Christians’ prayers are answered, and
V may be saved.” This reflection, when
almost axhausted with fatigue, and ready
to give up in despair, gave him fresh
strength, and with renewed courage lie
labored till the harbor was gained.
Christian uiothtr, pray for that son
who is likely to be wrecked in the storm
of life, and his prospects blasted forever.
He may be saved.—Am. Messenger,
peace!
At dawn they opened the windows
to give her air; it was the agony ot the
passing breath.
“ Horace, raise me!”
He laid her head against his breast;
her lips moved; he bowed to catch their
sound : “ This is sweet.”
An attempt to join the hands in prayer;
an unearthly beam from the closing orbs;
the rising sun shot through the case
ment upon a group of mourners! *
Months rolled by. The conjectures
as to Morcley’s clouded countenance and
A SKULL WITH A TONGUE
When Dr. John Donne, the famous
English pott and divine of the reign of
James I., attained possession of his first
living, he took a walk into the church
yard, where the sexton was at the time
digging a grave, and in thlkourse of his
labor threw up a skull. This skull the
doctor took into his hands, and lound
rusty headless nail sticking in the tem
ple of it, which he drew out secretly and
wrapped in the corner of his handker
chief. He then demanded of the grav
digger whether he knew whose skull that
was. He said it was a man’s who kept
a brandy shop—an honest drunken fel
low, who one night having taken two
quarts, was found dead in his bed the
next morning.
“Had he a wife ?”
“Yes.”
“ What character does she hear ?”
“ A very good one : only the neigh
bors reflect on her because she married
the day after her husband was buried.
This was enough for the doctor, who,
under the pretence of visiting his parish
ioners,called on the woman. He asked
several questions, and among others
what sickness her husband died of.—
She giving him the same account he had
received before, he suddenly opened the
handkerchief and cried in an authorita
tive voice—
“ Woman, do you know this nail ?”
She was struck with horror at the un
expected demand, instantly owned the
act, and was brought to trial and exe
cuted. Truly might one say with even
more point than Hamlet, that that skull
had a tongue in it.
The Tomb of a Woman.—For my
self I can pass by the tomb of a man
with somewhat of indifference; but
when I survey the grave of a female, a
sigh involuntarily escapes me. With
the name of woman I associate every
soft, tender, and delicate affection. I
think of her as the young and bashful
virgin, with eyes sparkling, and cheeks
crimsoned with each impassioned feeling
of her heart; as the kind, affectionate
wife, absorbed in the exercises of her
domestic duties; as the chaste and virtu
ous matron, tired of the follies of the
world, and preparing for that grave in
to which she must soon descend. Oh!
Abuse or the Naturalization Pro
cess.—Of all the motives and incentives
(says the N. O. Picayune) that have pro
duced that immence political revolution
which is now sweeping over the coun
try, prostrating old party organizations,
defeating the plans and schemes of party
leaders, exposing and overthrowing old
and corrupt modes of managing nomi
nations and elections, none has been
more potent and effective than a con
viction that the naturalization laws of
the land are systematically and unscru
pulously abused for party purposes.
Thrown upon our sjiores by political
convulsions, or impelled to seek an
asylum here by poverty and the hope of
bettering their condition, myriads ofthe
subjects of European Governments are
constantly swelling the number of our
population To state the yearly amount
of this increase at a half u million would
not be to exaggerate ; ami this mass of
immigration is made up of elements of
the most discordant character. While
a large portion of it is respectable, hon
est and industrious, not only able but
willing to devote itself, peacefully and
assiduously, to the discharge of ail tiie
duties of a good citizen, there is anoth
er very considerable partio-\ which,,
ignorant of our institutions and our laws,,
often of of language, and by the' neces
sity ofthe case, entirely uuembued with,
that native and traditional sentiment
that underlies the national character,
and irresislably promotes the vigor and
permanency of our institutions^ cannot,
reasonably be supposed to lve qualified
to take an immediate part iu the politi
cal affairs of the country.
Besides these two classes of immi
grants, experience has taught us that
there is a third, and this a fearfully in
creasing one ; we mean- that which is
made up of the pauperism and even the:
crime of the old world..
That the great question of deciding
the character of our Municipal, State,
and National Governments should be
left subject to the uninformed, unen
lightened, and in many, very many in
stances, the corrupt action of such a
population as wc have described, must
strike every reflecting mind as an abuse
ofthe most glaring and dangerous char
acter. What wonder that, seeing what
use is constantly made of it by partisans
for party purposes, there should have-
sprung up a determination on the part
there is something in contemplating the _
character of a woman that raises the ; of those whose dearest interests are iiu-
soul far above the vulgar level of society, j perilled by it, to put a stop to- it at tho
She is formed to adorn and humanize earliest possible period ?
mankind, to soothe his cares and strew
his path with flowers. In the hour of If you are ever tempted to purchase
distress she is the rock on which he leans anything on credit, put it ofi’ for three
for support, and when fate calls him days. You need time for reflection.
