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MlIiliEDQEVrLLE, Ga., APBIL 10, 1883.
ALEXANDER Jj. STEPHENS.
Sage, Patriot, Statesman and
Philanthropist.
_ “1 pray tliee, the n,
» rite me as one that loved liis fellow-men.”
On the evening oT the third of March,
Dr. II. II. Steiner," of Augusta, then in At
lanta, wrote to me as follows:
“Our friend. Governor Stephens, Is ex
tremely ill. I have never been so anxious
about him before. * * * *
If he can be made to sleep well to-night,
he may be better in the morning. I am
deeply anxious about him.”
The morning artor these lines were writ
ten, and before I had received them, as I
was on my way to the Baptist church
house in the beautiful city of Americus, I
hoard fall from the lips of a little boy the
words—“Governor Stephens is dead.”—
Speedy and anxious inquiry only too sure
ly proved their truth. Sleep; restful,
balmy, life-renewing sleep, which lies with
the vile in loathsome beds, and giveslits
repose to the wet sea-boy in the storm’s
rude hours, did not como to the statesman
who was dying for the want of it, and
when that night had passed away ho had
“another morn than ours.”
Five weeks have come and gone since
then, and many more must he numbered
with the eternal past before the words,
"Mr. Stephens Is dead,” can lose the
strangehess of their sound to ears that
have so long boon used to listening witli
reverent attention to his voice, or cease to
dim tho eyes that have so long been duel
ed by the sunshine of his presence.
A month and more has passed since that
sad day, and though I have stood beside
tho coffin’d clay, and looked upon the life
less form, and seen it prison’d in the tomb,
'mid the solemn hush of tho mighty,
mourning multitude, “yet cannot I by
force be led to think upon the wormy bed,
and him togethernor realize that his elo
quent tonguo Is forever mute in the colu
grave. Cheek to cheek through life he hail
lain close by the ‘pallid angel, Fain,”
long, long had his poor frame been stretch
ed upon the rack of this tough world, but
in death there was no pain-rack seen, no
sign of the life-long liand-to-hand combat
with suffering and disease, but a repose,
instead—an ineffable, wondrous calm, like
that which comes to the tired child charm
ed to sleep by gentlest lullaby in its moth
er’s arms. Often had I seen that face in
sleep in life, but never in life had I seen
the perfectly sereno expression, the “rap
ture of repose” that rested on it in the
sleep of death. There was a “halo hover
ing round decay” that almost for
‘‘one treacherous hour
Made me doubt tWPtyrant’s power;
So fair, so calm, so softly seal’d.
The first, last look by death reveal’d.”
Oh! how I wished, as I gazed upon them,
that the sbroudod eyes could open and
meet my own with the soul-lit glance of
old once more; that tho fragile lingers
could thrill me with their touch again, and
tho tongue 6penk the old familiar words of
welcome. They were words lie ever loved
to speak. I have a mental photograph al
bum in which he wrote down answers to a
series of questions Intended to bring out a
correct mental portraiture. One of the
questions is—“What are the sweetest
words in the world?” His answer is—“The
words of greeting to a friend.” How the
loving heart of the mail is shown by this
simple answer. No mortal accents sweet
er to his ear than tho greeting from the
friend he loved! And with what delight
ful ease he entertained all friendly comers.
Who that ever met him in the social circle,
either at his own beloved Liberty Hall, or
In his hospitable rooms in Washington,
does not remember the frankness that
spread ease and animation around it,
the eye that spoke affability to all, that
chased timidity from every bosom, and
told every one in the company to be confi
dent and happy?
Before dwelling more particularly upon
that social and private life, so attractive
to ail who came within reach of its iriilu-
ence, I desire to make soma aliuslon to the
remarkable characteristics which made his
public life so deserving of the study and
admiration of mankind. l)r. II. V. M. Mil
ler, in a speech which showed more of the
genuine orator than any other I have heard
since Howell Cobb’s Bush Arbor Speech,
truly said that Mr. Stephens’s most emi
nent characteristic was “his majestic wis
dom.” I have seen a greater scholar, I
have seen a man of higher and wider lite
rary culturo and a more polished writer,
and have heard a moro eloquent orator,
but I have never known as wise a man as
Mr. Stephens. It is one thing to bo well-
informed; it is another to be wise. Many
there be who have read many books and
hived up innumerable facts in capacious
memories, but who have not wisdom.—
Many there be of extraordinary talent and
exceeding brilliancy of powers, hut who
have yet not wisdom—the wisdom which
Solomon prayed for when lie 6aid, “Give
mo a wise and understanding heart.”
Somebody lias said that for this sort of
wisdom two things are required: earnest
ness and love. The earnestness which
jocks on life practically, which ponders
upon it, trying to understand its mystery,
not in order to talk about it like an orator,
nor to theorize about it like a philosopher,
but in order to know liow to live and how
to die; and tho love which opens the heart,
and makes it generous, and reveals secrets
deeper than prudence or political economy
teaches; the love which, long ago, found
utterance in the words “It is more blessed
to give than to receive.”
If Alexander H. Stephens did not pos
sess that earnestness, and that love, then
they never found abiding place in heart of
man. They did dwell in his heart, else lie
had never risen so far above his fellows in
the subordination of passion and preju
dice to calm, dear reason. Therein was
the great difference between him and most
other men. Their religious, political and
personal prejudices sway them, while he,
regarding prejudice as tho most formida
ble obstacle to the advancement of truth,
of which he was a most sincere adorer,
sternly exorcised its baneful presence
from his mind, and walked ever in the
way where reason led. Truth was the
pole-star of his life; to its ascertainment
were all the efforts of his reason directed,
its light be followed with unfaltering tread,
at its pure shrine he worshipped witli a de
votion as ardent and unswerving as Ghe-
ber’s to the sun. His reason—Ids wisdom
—taught him that truth should never yield
to error, that principle should never bo
sacrificed, even momentarily, to policy;
and he had the courage which enabled him
to face and defy danger and defeat of any
sort in maintaining what he believed to be
true and right. “I believe to-day,” said
Dr. Miller, “after a iife-long acquaintance
with him, that he was the bravest man I
ever looked in the face.”
A few days ago 1 met Mr. W. F. Herring,
a well-known Georgian, now living in New
York. He told me that, when a boy in At
lanta, he witnessed the attack rnado on
Mr. Stephens by a desperate man of giant
frame. He saw the strong man’s knife
raised above the throat of his weak and
prostrate victim, and heard the hoarse im
precation with which ho said, “Retract, or
I’ll cut!” Looking his foe in the face, the
blood streaming from the wounds he had
already received and the gleaming blade
about to descend in a last, fatal blow, the
almost dying, but dauntless man answered,
“Never! Cut!” Mr. Herring says that, to
his dying day, ho can never forget that ex-
nibition of the most utter fearlessness
which he thinks human nature can possi
bly exhibit.
But it was not alone the sort of bravery
witnessed by Mr. Herring that Dr. Miller
meant. It was the courage I have just
spoken of, which gave him the will and
moral strength to say and do what he be
lieved to be rii/ht, regardless of what might
be the personal or political consequences
to himself. His whole life was an illustra
tion of this rare courage, but I will recall
one instance of It which dwells particular
ly in my memory because I witnessed it,
and because it occurred at a time when, in
doing what be did, lie had to breast the
waves of partisan and sectional fury at
their highest,
Jt was during the congressional session
of ’7i-’S, when the country was convulsed
with fflo * Louisiana troublos, and'every
other question had given way to the most
niomeutous onoof the hour—“What should
bo done in regard to Louisiana?” Rival
bodies were claiming authority over
tier citizens, business was paralyzed,
bloodshed and utter distraction were im-
'minent, and a congressional committee
was 6ent thereto devise, iT possible, some
plan that would restore tranquility to the
much disordered commonwealth and re
vive her perishing commerce. It resulted
in the submission to Congress of what wns
known as the Wheeler compromise, so call
ed for the Hon. Wm. R. Wheeler, who was
its author, and a Republican. While the
Democratic members of tho committee
agreed upon no plan that promised so
prompt and safe a solution of the troubles,
they yet opposed Mr. Wheeler’s plan. They
seemed to choose, rather, that the ques
tion should remain unsettled. So when
the compromise was submitted to Con
gress they iabored against its adoption. A
vote was ordered, and as tho roll-call pro
gressed, and neared its end, it was seen
that the result might turn upon one vote.
This possibility grew into a stronger and
stronger probability, until, as the name of
Stephens was approached, it was almost a
certainty. There he sal, with his intense
eye upon everything that passed, the pic
turesque and rare one man, unapproacha
ble by ail others in the unity of his char
acter, and in the thousand-fold anxieties
which centred upon him. ’Finally, the
clerk called—“Stephens”, when “aye’’,
quick as thought, came clear and ringing
from t he roller-chair, and Alexander II.
Stephens’s vote had saved the qaeasure.
Members turned wilh surprise in their
seats, the galleries wero astonished, and
even tho reporters wore startled anti look
ed as if they thought he had voted “aye”
mistakenly. ’Twas a sight they were not
accustomed to—thatjof a man daring to vote
at variance with his party associates, and
especially a Southern man, at such a fe
vered time as that. Of course a bitter out
cry was at once raised over the vote by
the ultra partisan papers and politicians,
but not many months had elapsed before
itwaa seen and generally admitted that
tho compromise was the wisest and most
beneficent plan that could have been
adopted for the settlement of the danger
ous problem with which the country was
then confronted in Louisiana. Had it not
been adopted old chaos would have come
again to that fair land, and thefe is no
telling what havoc might have been
wrouglifbefore order could have been re
stored. 1 have always thought that vote
was one of the bravest acts of Mr. Ste
phens’s public life, as well as one of the
wisest. In it ho exhibited that combina
tion of wisdom and courage without which
there can bo made no complete title to the
name of statesman. It is within my
knowledge that more than one Southern
Democratic member thought, as he did,
that tho adoption of the Wheeler Compro
mise was the best thing that could be done
at the time, under the existing circum
stances, hut they did not have the courage
to face tho storm which they knew their
votes for it would bring about their heads.
So they cither voted against it, or “dodg
ed.”
Tho country is still familiar witli Mr.
Stephens's course on the famous l’otter
Resolutions;—how he again differed from
his party associates—was again assailed
by blind partisan rancor and reckless and
malicious misrepresentation—and how
the wisdom of his oourse was again speed
ily and completely vindicated. Verily, Dr.
Miller spoke truth when he said that this
man, like Samuel of old, “had understand
ing of tin; limes, to know what Israel
ought to do.” Look back over his whole
long career and name, I pray’ you, if you
can, the thing that lie advised tho people
to do which the future did not prove it had
been best for them to have done; or the
thing thut lie warned them not to do, the
consequences of which, when done, did
not prove the wisdom of liis warning.
He was democratic, not in the modern
sense of the term, as never bolting a cau
cus nomination nor differing from a caucus
policy, but on principle, as founded in a
strict, in contradistinction to a latitudina-
rian construction of the constitution, and
as expressed in his own cieiininition of
what should be the great object of govern
ment, namely, to secure the greatest good
to every member of society that can possi
bly be accomplished without injury to any.
The principles embodied in the American
Const it ution lie regarded as a saci ed deposi
tory—a vestal lire, which Providence lias
committed to tho American people for tho
general benefit of mankind; and lie felt
that it is the world’s last hope, and that if
it bo oneo extinguished there can not be
found the Promethean heat that can ils
light relume. Ho devoted his life to the
study of this wonderful American system,
a study which, said tho lamented Hill, “to
*him who loves Liberty’, is more enchant
ing than romance, more bewitching than
love, and more elevating than any other
science.” So strong was his love for his
native land that, when, at the downfall of
the Confederacy’, he was advised to seek re
fuge in foreign dimes from the captivity
and probable death that awaited him here,
he answered—“No, I would rather dio in
this country than live in any other. I
will remain, and accept whatever fate is in
store for me.”
The gifted Mrs. Mary E. Bryan, in an
admirable article in the Sunny South, told
in apt and graceful phrase of that strong
fibre of sympathy witli the yeomanry’ of
the land which was born with him, and was
nurtured by’the associations of his earlier
years, and remained with him through fife,
that gave him his hold upon the hearts of
the people. Never had I been so struck
with tho rural element in his nature, with
the “blending of t he yeoman and the pa
trician, the patriarch and the statesman,”
as I was during the canvass he made in
1873,—the last canvass he ever made of his
old district. It was a beautiful revelation
to me—that travel with him through the
counties of his district, and witnessing the
intercourse between him and the country
people. It showed that the title of “the
great commoner” was not misbestowed
upon him, and that, if constituents never
had more faithful representative, so never
had representative more devoted constit
uents.
When a man has been returned to Con
gress uninterruptedly’ for a long series of
years, he comes to be regarded as, to a
great extent, tho true portraiture and per
sonification of the people who send him
there. What an honor to the people of the
Eighth Georgia district—what a lustre it
shed upon them, to have sucii a man as
Alexander H. Stephens regarded as a type
of themselves! When, oil! when will they—
when will Georgia—America-have another
like him? His wisdom, his experience, his
unsullied integrity. Ids ardent patriotism,
his cool and deliberate judgment, his con
ciliatory’ temper, his firm adherence to
principle—when and where shall we find a
substitute for them? When the public
counsels shall become distracted, wilh the
wormwood and the gall of personal ani
mosities adding tenfold bitterness to the
conflict of rival interests and discordant
opinions, how shall we have to deplore tho
bereavement or Ids presence, tho very-
light of whose countenance, the very sound
of whose voice, might recall men, like a ta
lisman, from tho tempest of hostile pas
sions to tho calm composure of harmony
and peace.
But ol his public fife others can tell, oth
ers have told with far more ability and fa
miliarity’ than is possible with me. That
he accomplished what he did, with all the
odds against him, makes him one or the
marvels of history. “Ho is the most re
markable man I ever knew,” I onco heard
Ilerschel V. Johnson say of him. Was it
not ono like him in the mind of the poet
when lie wrote of that
divinely gifted man.
Whose lire in low estate began,
\\ ho breaks his birth's invidious bar
And breasts the blows of circumstance,
And grapples with his evil star;
Who makes by force his merit known
And lives to clutch the golden keys,
To mould a mighty slate's decrees.
Ami shape the whisper of the throne?
Of the world's great men, Washington
was his model, and it may be said of him
as of that most illustrious American, that
he loved fame, the approval of coming
generations, the good opinion of his fellow-
men of his own time; and he desired to
make his conduct coincide with their wish
es: bqt got fear of censure, nor the pros
pect of applause, couid tempt. him to
swerve from rectitude; anil the praise
which he coveted was the sympathy of
that moral sentiment which exists in every
human heart, and goes forth only to the
welcome of virtue.
There is a character In fiction whose pe
culiar situation and career in the troublous
times in which he was made to take a part
I have often heard Mr. Stephens charac
terize as a striking counterpart of his own
position and course in public life. It Is the
character of “Morton," in “Old Mortali
ty’.”
The public life or a statesman Is imper-
Ishably recorded in the pages of his coun
try’s history, but we often have to regret
tiie imperfection of the records of
That best portion of a good man's life.
His little, nameless, unremember'd acta
Of kindness and of love.
Though Mr. Stephens’s private liie was
more open to the public view than that of
any other man whom I have ever known
Ol of whom I have ever read, yet much ol
its “best portion” could tie known only to
those whom the chances of life threw into
daily and hourly association with him. It
was my lot—and how dearly I esteem it I
have no words to tell—to live In such inti
mate relations with him for years, and 1
hold it a sacred duty, and precious privi
lege as well, tti write my testimony of the
beautiful life that was revealed to me in
those hours when the world’s eye was not
on him.
If there has ever been, since Calvary’s
bloody sweat and agony’, a God-liko life on
earth, it was that which went out in At
lanta on that quiet Sabbath morning, five
weeks agone. He was tho kindest human
being I ever knew. His poor little emacia
ted body was the casket of the biggest
soul that ever went shriven or unshriven
before the judgment bar of God. It might
be said of him, as It was of Jesus, that he
went about doing good. Wherever he saw
the form of affliction he covered It with the
tender web of his pity, and gave it, when
he could, the helping hand and the shel
tering arm. For him, thero was, in the
sorrows and sufferings of earth's millions,
an infinite voice, crying out—“Help! help
now, cr it will soon be too late!” He said
they were the saddest words in the world
to him—tnose little words,—“too late,”
and that he could conceive no Idea of mis
ery profounder than that convey’ed in the
utterance—“Ye knew your duty, and ye
did it not.”
Can I ever forget the thrilling pathos
with which I have heard him read the
speech of Jeanie Deans to tiie Queen, in
behalf of Effie, the “puir sister,” way
ward and sinning, and doomed to an igno
minious death? Even now I can hear him
saying, in infinitely tender tones:
“O, madam, if ever ye kend what it was
to sorrow for and with a sinning and a suf
fering creature, whose mind is sae tossed
tiiat she can be neither ca’d fit to live or
tiie, have some compassion on our misery !
Alas! it is not when we sleep soft and
wake merril.v ourselves, that we think on
other people’s sufferings. Our hearts are
waxed light within us then, and we are for
righting our ain wrangs and fighting our
ain battles. But when the hour of trouble
comes to the mind or to the body—and
wiien the hour of death comes, that comes
to high and low—O, my Leddy. then it
is na what we lure dune for onrourseils,
but what we hae dune for others that wo
think on niaist pleasantly.”
And so, through life, he was doing for
others, and laying up pleasant thoughts
against the hour of death. During the
seventy odd years of bis existence, ho con
tributed more to the sum of human happi
ness than the vast majority of men would
were their lives prolonged to seventy times
seventy. His benevolence was as bound
less as the air, and his clmrity as wide as
the welkin. Like Abou Ben Adliem, his
name could be written in the angel's bc>ok
ns one who loved his fellow men. Anti bis
fellow-men loved him. The dewy eyes
and saddened faces in that vast multitude
thitt gat tiered round his bier in Georgia’s
shrouded capitol, !>ore testimony to the
depth of the hold tie had upon their hearts.
Among the number was one who was ob
served to linger longer and bend lowlier
over the dead than tiie others, and when
he finally turned from a last, long, linger
ing look at the wan, still face and the fold
ed hands, tears were seen trickling down
the bearded cheeks. He had taken the fife
of his fellow-man in combat, and tiie little
hand tliat lay there stilled in death before
him had written the pardon that stripped
from his limbs the shackles that had been
placed upon them to remain while he
should live, and the lips so speechless now
had said to him, “Go, be Tree, and sin no
more.’ 1 And gazing on that cold, dead,
merciful hand, and on those death-sealed
lips, the hronz.id, scarred man wept like a
child.
“I look upon a day as lost,” said the
great Dr. Johnson, “in which I do not
make a new acquaintance.” I believe Mr.
Stephens came to look upon a day as lost
in which he did not do something to adit to
somebody’s happiness. General Jackson
has told us how, when asked about the
room lie was said to keep nt Liberty Hall
for tramps, he answered, “Yes, I feel it
my duty to try to make everybody as
h ippy as I can,” and of his servant’s de
claration that “Mars Alec is kinder to dogs
than most people is to folks.” How thick
upon my memory come thronging inci
dents most touchingly illustrating tho
utter truthfulness of what both master and
servant said! Fago arter page eould be
filled with them. Tho world lias long lov
ed the character of “Uncle Toby,” the
brave old soldier, whose iieart was so ten
der withal that ho would not hurt a fly,
and whose soul was so sinless that, when
the oath he uttered was borne to Heaven’s
chancery, the Accusing Spirit blushed as
he gave it in, and the Recording Angel, a9
ho wrote it down, dropped a tear upon the
word and blotted it out forever. Such a
man, m very truth, was lie of whom I
write. I have heard him intercede for the
life of the poor, buzzing, troublesome In
sect captured In his room of a summer
night. “Don’t kill it, just put It outside,”
he would say, so gently and so earnestly.
He seemed to feel that “the meanest beetle
tiiat we tread upon, in corporal sufferance
finds a pang as great as when a giant
dies,” and he would not inflict that pang
upon any living creature. I have seen his
heart moved by the piteous, appealing look
of a friendless dog that passed him on the
wayside, and or all tho demonstrations of
joy’ with which ho was met on his return
home alter a long absence, none wero live
lier nor eincerer than those made by
“Flack,” the poor! dumb and blind brute
who was nowhere so happy as at his mas
ter’s feet.
Many, many’ deeds of kindness and of
love, many tender associations rise vividly
before me now, for sorrow sharpens mem
ory’, hut they must go unrecorded save on
the hearts whereon they are written in let
ters of unfading love.
Doubtless, it has occurred to some to
ask, “liow could this man, whoso heart
was so full of divine love and tenderness,
seek to take the fife of his fellow-man, by
challenging him to mortal combat?” I had
often asked myself the question after I
came to know him, and once, when talking
with him of tho differences which led to
the hostile correspondence with that ojh-
er distinguished Georgian, I expressed to
him my self-questioning, jn view of the
fatal consequences that might have fol
lowed. lie replied, “I didn’t intend to kill
him.” and then I knew that within that
gentle bosom there had never entered the
dreadful motion of a murderous thought.
The latter days of the two men who had
been so estranged in earlier life were mark
ed by a cordiality of intercourse that ad
mitted ho question of the complete obliter
ation of whatever unpleasantness of feel
ing iiad existed in the past. Scarce a
twelvemonth ago I saw them together
in most friendly, even tender, social com
munion. It was the last time I saw one
or them, for ho was then “almost home.”
Death had already lain its all-eqpquering
hand upon his majestic form, and was hur
rying him with relentless swiftness to tho
grave, whither the other was soon to fol
low him. Let us hope they are together
now in the perpetual peace of Paradise.
Many devout men have I known, but
never one of them all, layman or preacher,
with charity like Mr. Stephens. None
greater lias dwelt in this breathing world
since He left it who condemned not the er
ring Magdalen, and pardoned the peni
tent thief upon the cross. The holiest man
that ever donned the sacerdotal robe might,
have sat at his feet and learned of this
heavenly e ssence. I mean not the charity
of giving pecuniary assistance to the poor
alnj neatly—to Whjich the most of his sub-
stance was devoted—not the charity of the
purse, but the charity of the soul, and
martyrdom of the temper; the charity
which says, “Judge not, that ye be not
judged;” which prays,
“fcet not this weak, unknowing hand,
Presume llij bolts to throw;
'Ana deal damnation round the land.
On him I deem Thy foe.”
The charity which moved him ever, when
his enemies were bitterest and bis detrac
tors loudest and most reckless, to say,
“Father, forgive them, for they know not
what they do.” Tho charity which made
him “gently scan his brother man,” re
membering that “to step aside is human,”
and which finds such eloquent expression
in th* words lie 60 often quoted from the
immortal Burns:
Who made the Iieart. ’tls He alone
Decidedly can try us;
He knows each chord—Its various tone,
Each spring—ils various Mas :
Then at the balance let’s be mute,
We never ran adjust it;
What's done we partly may compute,
But know not what's resisted.
’Twas the glorifying magic of this heav
en-descended virtue, that had made its
home so long within that roller-chair,
which made the great-hearted Jackson
feel that “tho lines over which those
wheels had rolled were holy;—that no
Georgian could cross them with a base
thought in his lioad or a mean, malignant
feeling in his heart, without becoming a
traitor to tho mother-earth which gave
that frail, attenuated frame to the world,”
and now has “hugged it to herself again.”
My pen lingers. Ail conscious as I am
of its utter powerlessness to render fitting
tribute, or fashion words to tell my love
and veneration for the illustrious dead, I
feel that I should not lay it down without
declaring that I cannot tor a moment en
tertain the idea that Mr. Stephens’s death
was caused or hastened by any overtaxing
of his mental or physical powers by the
duties of his office. Justice to his memory
will not permit me to hold any such belief
as that. I had known him, his way of life,
his capacity for mental labor, too long and
too thoroughly for such a thought to have
an instant’s lodgment in my mind. What
was there in the duties attached to the
office of Governor of Georgia to put the
mind of Alexander Stephens to its bent?
W iiat evidence is there of any loosening from
its moorings of that mighty intellect—of
any straying of that marvelous mental
mechanism from its proper and accustom
ed track till arter clays and nights of mor
tal Illness had fallen upon his body, and
his senses had been steeped in stupefying
potions? Is it in the book lie had but re
cently written? Read it and see. Is it
in those political speeches to the people
t>f Georgia, but a few months since, which
attracted tho attention and command
ed the admiration of the most enlight
ened minds throughout the Union? Read
them and say where and who is the man
that can frame such master pieces of logic,
of statesmanship and political lore. Is it in
any act as Chief Executive of the State?
Name it. Is it in any writing penned by
his hand or at his dictation during the
last six months. Froduce it. Is it in tho
speech delivered in the presence of tliat
immense audience in Georgia’s most cul
tured city a fortnight before his death? I
saw him and talked with him the night of
his departure for Savannah, and never saw
him with brighter look nor heard him
speak in cheerier tone than then. No.no;
’twas no strain of mind nor body in the
performance of Executive duties that snap
ped the thread of life. Ho would have
died sooner without any work than from
the work he had to do ns Governor. In
dustry was an attribute of his nature; la
bor an inherent impulsion, and a habit.
Work was the law of liis being. He work
ed to kill pain, and had the outer frame
work noi been touched by t lie paralyzing
hand of death tile glorious engine within
would he still working on unhurt, with
its fainted and ils iron power.t
But the mandate came, bidding It to
cease, and the silver cord was loosed;
broken was the golden bowl;—the long
day’s task was done—the “fitful fever”
over. Sleep had come at last., and a sage, a
patriot, a statesman, and a philanthropist
was gone!
However saddening to thousands of oth
ers was tjie summons that called him
hence, wc know tiiat there were no terrors
in that call for him. Throughout his earth
ly pilgrimage he had kept “a correspond
ence fixed witli Heavon,” and had lived
ever mindful of the solemn hour that wait
ed for him somewhere on life’s uncertain
way.
I think, in all history, there is not an
instance of a litter closing of a nobler life.
He was not made to survive his usefulness
--to lag superfluous on the stage. Often
have I heard him say, when the pule mes
senger was hovering over him, that lie did
not wish to outlive liis capacity to serve
liis fellow-men. Death found Mm with
“the harness on,” at the post of duty to
which liis countrymen had called him,and to
which ho went in thatspiritof consecration
which marked his life, and made him dis
regard tho relaxations and and exemptions
of age. It came to him in a beautiful old
age, finding him blessed with all tliat
should accompany it—“as honor, love,
obedience, troops of friends,” and so ten
derly did it loosen the bonds tliat held
the spirit in its tenement of clay, that lie
knew none of the stern agony of the part
ing hour, but went “like one who had
wrapped| the drapery of Ills couch about
him and Iain down to pleasant dreams.”
Where else could it have come to him so
fitly? Where else would he have sooner
met it than in tiie chief and capital city of
his native State, in the service of the peo
ple ho loved so well, and who so well loved
him? Where hut in the very midst of
tho people to whom all the throbbings of
his heart were given would lie have been
so willing to liavo thoeo throbbings cease?
And, as if absolutely nothing should he
wanting to complete the symmetry of his
glorious life, aud carry its sacred simili
tude as far as mortal nature would permit,
its last official act, done while ho lay upon
his dying bed, was the pardon of a crlml-
inal. Did Dot the gentle, loving Jesus, in
tho very agony of crucifixion, do the same?
Tho eternal silence wraps him now.
Hidden forever from our sight is that
dear, familiar, fragilo form; closed in
death are the eyes whoso glance had magic
in it; never again will our heartstrings bo
thrilled by that clarion voice; but in the
innermost shrines of our hearts Is his
memory embalmed and his image limned
forevermore!
“In the blank silence of the narrow tomb
Tiie clay may rest which wrapped his human
birth;
But. all unconquered by tliat silent doom,
The spirit of his thought shall walk the earth.
In glory and in light.”
T. K. Oglesby.
Miliedgevillo, Ga., April 7th, 1883.
Every farmer who pays any attention
to his poultry should by all means raise a
small patch of sunflowers. The Kansas
City Times says that they will pay well
on any kind of soil, but, of course, as with
all farm crops, reasonably good soil
should be selected, as the result will be
far more proflt&bls. Plough and harrow
as for corn. Lay off in drills three and a
half or four feet apart and sow the seed-
two or three seed every ten or fifteen inch
es—so that when they come up and are
thinned they will not stand over eighteen
Inches apart. The cultivation should be
tho same as for corn—sufficient to keep
down the weeds, and the soil stirred, so
as to cause as rapid growth as possible.
When ripe they should be gathered as
soon as possible, as tho birds are very
fond of them and will rapidly make se
rious inroad? if left standing. We plant
our corn-field beans among our sunflow
ers in preference to among corn. For
chicken feed the mammoth Russian is the
best, as the flowers are very large and
yield a quantity of large, oily seed.
MACKEREL AT OCR BOARDING
HOUSE.
Few people who eat salt mackerel stop
to think of the adventurous life led by the
men engaged in catching the creatures.
These men are subject tmfcard knocks and
every kind cf exposure: The celebrated
fishery’ house of Jas. G. Tarr A Bro., Glou
cester, Mass., say: “We have had on board
our vessels frequent cases of cuts, bruises,
sprains, and summer complaints. Our cap
tains say they wouldn’t go to sea without
Perrv Davis’s Fain Killer.”
or Job Work of all kinds neatly and
promptly executed at this office.
Failing!
That is what a great
many people are doing.
They don’t know just what
is the matter, but they have
a combination of pains and
aches, and each month they
grow worse.
The only sure remedy
yet found is Brown’s Iron-
Bitters, and this by rapid
and thorough assimilation
with the blood purifies and
enriches it, and rich, strong
blood flowing to every part
of the system repairs the
wasted tissues, drives out
disease and gives health and
strength.
This is why Brown’s
Iron Bitters will cure
kidney and liver diseases,
consumption, rheumatism,
neuralgia, dyspepsia, mala
ria, intermittent fevers, &c.
203 S. Paca St., Baltimore.
Nov. 28,1881.
I was a great sufferer from
Dyspepsia, and for several
weeks could eat nothing and
was growing weaker every
day. I tried Brown’s Iron
Bitters, and am happy to say
I now have a good appetite,
and am getting stronger.
Jos. McCawley.
Brown’s Iron Bitters
is not a drink and does not
contain whiskey. It is the
only preparation of Iron
that causes no injurious ef
fects. Get the genuine.
Don’t be imposed on with
imitations, •
April 25, 1382.
4lcw ly.
tfOSHFEifc
*lfTEf? S
What the 'great restorative, TTosfotter’s
Stomach Bitters, will do, must he gathered
from what it has done. It has effected rad
ical cures In thousands of cases of dyspep
sia, bilious disorders, intermittent fever,
nervous affections, general debility, con
stipation, sick headache, mental despon
dency, and the peculiar complaints and
disabilities to Which the feeble are so
subject.
For sale by all Druggists and Dealers _
generally.
Juno 6th. 1882. tint] 47 ly.
A NOTED BUT UNTITLED A’OtUS,
[From the Boston Glob*.'
Meetrs. Editors:—
Tho above is a good Ilkenesn of Mrs. Lydia E. Fink-
ham, of Lynn, Mosc., w h. > al* all other human beings
may bo truthfully called tho “Door Friend of Woman,”
as some of her correspondents lore to call her. She
Is zealously deroted to her work, which is the outcome
of a lifo-study, and Is obliged to keep sir lady
MflNtintf. to h*lp her answer the large correspondence
which daily pours in npozt her, each bearing Us special
burden of suffering, or joy At release from It. Her
Vegetable Compound is a medicine for good and not
eril purposes. I hare personally investigated it and
am satisfied of the truth of this.
On aooount of its proven merits. It is recommended
and prescribed by the best physicians In the country.
One says: “ It works like a charm and saves much
poin. it will cure entirely the worst form of falling
of tho uterus, Leucorrhcea, Irregular and painful
Menstruation, all Ovarian Troubles, Inflammation and
Ulceration, Floodings, all Displacements anti the con
sequent spinal weakness, and la especially adapted to
the Change of Life. 1 *
It permeates every portion of the system, and gives
Mw life and vigor. It removes faintness, flatulency,
destroys all craving tqr stimulants, and relieves weak
ness of the stomach* It cures Bloating, Headaches,
Nervous Prostration, General Debility, Sleeplessness,
Depression and Indigestion. That feeling of bearing
down, causing pain, weight and backache, {s always
permanently cured by its use. It will at all limes, and
under all circumstances, act In harmony with the law
that governs tho female system.
It costs only $1. per bottle or six for $5., and is sold !»y
druggists. Any advice required as to special cascf% and
the names of many who have been restored to perfect
health by the use of the Vegetable Compound, can be
obtained by addressing Mrs. P., with stamp for reply,
at her home in Lynn, Mam
For Kidney Complaint of either sex this compound is
unsurpassed as abundant testimonials show.
“Mm Pink ham’s Liver Pills,” says one writer, “are
the best in the world for the cure of Constipation,
Biliousness and Torpidity of the liver. Her Blood
Purifier works wonders in its special line and bids fair
to equal the Compound in its popularity.
Ail must respect her es an Angel of Mercy whose sole
ambition Is to do good t« others.
Philadelphia, Pa. (?) Mrs. A. M. D.
May 23.1882. 43 ly
— Ho other disease la ao prevalent in tb
r* try as Constipation* and no remedy h
• equalled the celebrated Kidney-Wo
KIDNEY-WORT
FOR THE PERMANENT CURE OF
CONSTIPATION.
in th!. co nil-
haa ever
•quailed the oelebrated Kidney-Wort ae a
cure. Whatever the oauae. however o betlnate
0 the eeee, thia
r will overcome It.
remedy wll
Mae ETft ‘l‘Hm dlatreeaing corn
ed I m tv ■ plaint la very apt to be
complicated with eonattpation. Kidney-Wort _
strengthens the weakened parts and quiehly
cun* nil kinds of Piles even when, physicians
and medicines have before failed.
l .rlf you have either of theso troubles
USE
Druggists Sell
.1J ITS
KIDNEY-WORT
May 23.1382.
45 ly
ACCIDENTS
HAPPEN
EVERY DAY in the Year.
PERRY
DAVIS’S
PAIN
KILLER
IS THE
GREAT
REMEDY
FOR
Burns,
Cuts,
Bruises,
Sprains,
Scratches,
Contusions,
Swellings,
Scalds,
Sores,
Dislocations
Felons,
Boils,
Ac., &<-.
DRUGGISTS KEEP IT
EVERYWHERE.
Decamber 19th, 1882.
cm23 ly.
■Tumn
January^hH ,
I aa cgeriLAftTiruAd
Beautiful Floral Ghromo Caros,
She ft x 8, and an lllnatratad
■ Heolt. to all who lead two
Meatloa tkh paptow
27 ly.
DRUGS AUD BOOKS!
TOILET AND FANCY GOODS,
Combs & Brushes in great variety.
FiaMt laftrted Handkerchief
Colognes, Pomades, Cosmetiques.
Pure Toilet Powders, from 10c to 50c per box. Tooth Brushes, all shapes, sizes.—Pre
serve and beautify your teeth by using those elegant dentifrices, such as Kozodont,
Oriental Tooth Paste. Saponox, Ac.. Toilet and Laundry Soaps, Starch, Blueing.
FANCY BOXED PAPERS AND ENVELOPES!
Light and Heavy Note, Letton Bill, Cap and Legal Cap Paper. All sizes of Blank
Books, Pocket Memorandum Books, Beet Writing and Copying Inks, lens. Copy
Books, Scrap Books,
AUTOGRAPH and PHOTOGRAPH ALBUMS, all prices and kinds.
Writing Desks, Work Boxes, in Plain Walnut or Elegant Rosewood. Pearl and Moroc
co Card Cases.—Ladies’ and Geots’ Purses aud Socket books, a full assortment.
Salats, Oils, Varn.ish.es, Br-usiies, Colors, Etc.
Fmnnmv is the word now. and the meaning is. paint your houses with the best
ed our prices and quality . .
the general public at reasonable considerations m eui rency
Lard Oil and Cheaper Machine Oils.
Any grade you wish, for Cotton Gins, Steam Engines or any kind or Machinery.
SCHOOL BOOKS,
To fit each particular kind of School Teacher. Slates, Book Satchels, Pencils, Crayons,
Invoice Books, Letter Copying Books^Ac.
Choice Green and Black Tea, Spices, Cloves, Nutmegs, etc.
Cayenne and Black Pepper, Bread Powders, Pure Flavoring Extracts, such .vs Lemon,
Vanilla, Rose, Orange, Celery, Ac.
FINE CHEWING k SMOKING TOBACCO, SNUFF, CIGARS, PIPES, &c
The purest Brandy, Whisky, Wine, Ac., for Medical purposes.
«-Glve me a call for anything you may want.—Many goods cannot be displayed for
lack of room—so call for what you wish and see iT goods and prices are not as satisfac
tory as can be had anywhere.
LIME, CEMENT, PLASTER, &c.
I am selling the best Alabama Lime, Cement, Plaster Paris, Ac., in any quantities
from a Peck to a Car Load or more. Will meet the prices of any wholesale house any
where, and respectfully ask Contractors and Builders to “Patronize Home Industry,”
and give me a call.
Mo Ao
Southwest corner of Wayne and Hancock S ieets,.
March 26th, 1833.
4t*rgia Railroad Company.
OFFICE GENERAL MANAGER,
Augusta, Ga., Dec. 10, 188a,
Commencing Sunday, nth, inst., the follow
ing passenger schedule will be operated
Trains run by Atlanta time-7 minutes slower
than Macon;
NOW—EAST (dally).
Leave Macon
Leave Milledgeville ”
-• 7:05 a m
■ •10:37 a nr
Leave Warrenton
Arrive Athens
Arrive Augusta....
NO 17—WEST (dailj).
.. «:55 p in
Leave Atlanta...
Leave Athens
Leave Washington
.. 8:20 a m
.. 9:05 a in
. .11:20 a m
Arrive Milledgeville
Arrive Macon
.. 4:49 p Bl
.. 6:44 p m
NO 16—EAST (daily.)
Leave Sparta
Leave Cainafc
.. 3:;'»3 a Hi
NO 16—WEST (daily.)
Leave Augusta
LeaveCaniafc
Arrive Warrenton
Arrive Sparta
Arrive Milledgeville -
Arrive Macon
.. 1:1s a lit
.. 1:33.a in
.. -2:57 a nt
.. 4:27 a Ul
.. 6:4t> a m
Trains will, if signaled, stop at any schedul
ed nag station.
Close connections at Augnsta for all points
East, and Southeast, aud at Macon for all points
In Southwest Georgia and Florida.
Superb improved Sleepers between Macon snd
Augusta.
Pullman Sleepers Augusta to W asliington.
JNO. \V. GREEN,
General Manager.
E. it. DORSET.
General rassengcr Agent.
...Milledgeville, Ga.
37 Cm.
PMMNg^PmS
a nd will eoinpUt#! v ehinn tie blood In tho onlfro ifftia in thrtamoatha. Afivper»cn who will t»k« ONE PILL
IT PM ONB TO TWELVE WEEn8. m*2b*r*«torad to roand health, if »uch a thing is poimibU. |
KACH NIG
For cuntix I w _
cr sent by mail for is cents in stamps. Send for pamphlet. X. B. JOi
irii
curinc Female Complshris these Pills have noeqnal. Physician* nse them in their practice. Sold everywhere,
'* ' ’ " * ' >HNBON r — ~ -
r & GO.. Boston. T.Tass.
Centra! and *«ntliwe*lern HalIriiads.
Savannah, Ga., Jan. 11, 13s3.
O N and after SUNDAY, Jnn. 14th, 1883.
passenger trains on tho Central and
Southwestern Railroads and branches will
ruu as follows: ’
READ DOWN. READ DOWN.
No. l. From Savannah. No.si.
9.00 a. m. Lv Savannah... .Lu s.tsi p m
4.15 p. m. Ar Augusta ... Ar. 6.10 a m
6.25 p. in. Ar... .Macon Ar. 4.54 a nt
11.20 p. m. Ar.. .Atlanta Ar. 845 a nt
6.05 a. m. Ar Columbus— Ar. 1.40 p m
2.53 a. w. Ar Eufaula Ar. 4.21 p in
4.16 a. in. Ar Albany Ar. 4.05 p m
Ar.. Milledgeville.. Ar. 10.24 a ni
,Ar .. .Eatonton An- 12.10 p ni
No. 16. From August v. No. is.
9.00 a. m. Lv Augusta Lv. 11.00 p ni
3.50 p. m. Ar... .Savannah \r. 7.00 a m
6.25 p. in. Ar Macon Ar
11.20 p. m. Ar.. Atlanta Ar
6.05 a. m. Ar....Columbus Vr
2.53 a. m. Ar Eufaula ^r
4.16 a.m. Ar Albany Ar
10.24 a. m. Ar. .Miliedgevillo.. Ar
12.10 p. ni. Ar Eiitouton Ar
March 27th, 1883.
Business losses
IN MACON, GA.:
CARHART«CURD,
Importers and Dealers In
HARDWARE, IRON & STEEL,
Cutlery, Guns, Carriage Materials, Agri-
eultiiral Implements, Builders’ Hard
ware, Tools of every description.
PAINTS, OILS, GLASS, i'C'v*
Agency and Depot for Fairbanks’ Scales
Iron Front Store,
Cherry kirrfl, itlACOM, CA.
May 2, 1882. 42 ly.
COMMERCIAL
COLLEGE,
MACON, GA.
A First-class
Business School.
Equal to any North or South
SamhI for Circulars, free-
W. McKAY, - Principal.
MetWist Mutual Aid Association.
9
—OFFICE,
Masonic Temple, Louisville, Ky.
Hon. Wm. B. Hoke,
President.
II. B. Grant,
Sec. and Treas.
Hon Rob’t Cochran,
Viod-l'resident
G. W. Ronald,
Medical Director.
DIRECTORS:
Sanford Kietli, Dr. R. Oscar Doyle,
Rob’t. Cochran, John T. Liggett,
Wm. C. Kendrick, Win. B. Hoke,
Chos. B. Seymour.
The Methodist Mutual Aid Association was
charted by the Legislature of Kentucky, March
24th, lsso, and charter amended April, lbR2. It
provides that the Directors shall be church
members, which Is some guarantee that they
are men of Integrity. Its memliers may belong
to the church ur not; the only requirements l>e-
Ing that the applicants are between the ages of
18 and 55, sound in mind and IkmIv and not dis
sipated.
Tht
May 2. 1332.
42 ly
Drs. J. P. & f. R. HOLMES,
DENTISTS!
102 Mnlberry St., - - Macon, Ga.
Juno 20, 1882. 49 ly.
. E. IIROWN.
13 rown's
FILLMORE BROWN,
JJational
HOTEL:
Nearlv Opposite the Passenger Depot,
MACON, GA.
rjTHE National Hotel has been recently
1 renovated, refitted and all of the mod
ern improvement* introduced which are
necessary for a taMm Hotel. The hotel
will be hereaflBMkMMN] as
BROWN’S NATIONAL HOTEL,
under the proprietorship of E. E. Brown,
the oldest hotel proprietor in Macon, or the
State or Georgia, and liis son Fillmore
Brown, who wae reared in the hotel busi
ness. The rates of charges will be accord
ing to the old schedule before the war:
Fifty Cents for a Meal, or for lodging;
or Two Dollars per day. Day boarders
$22.50 per month. Families not taken, ex
cept at transient rates.
E. E. BROWN k SON, Proprietors.
Nov. 29. 1881. 20 3m.
he objects of the Association are: To pro
vide a Beueflcisry Fund which the families of
members are paid not exceeding f3,coo, at death
of the member, or one half of the amount in case
of total disability; which amount eaucot be
reached by process of law or claims of creditors:
so that thiMamiU is sure to receive the beuelit.
It is the cheapest, aud its expenses are less
than any known Life Assurance Association.
The Secretary is the only salaried officer.
To Become a Member.—It will cost you $6 for
admission and $1 semi-annual dues. If appli
cation Is rejected, these amounts will l>c return
ed to yon. You must also pay. examining phy
sician.
The assessment at the lime applicant is ad
mitted continues the same till death, viz:
To every tnemtier sending us an accept aide ap-
pilcation. il will be paid him. Thus a little ex
ertion will enable qnv member to retain his
rights to the Beneficiary Funds without paying
aD.v money.
For further information apply to V. p. C'kaw-
fokd, agent f,,r Baldwin Comity, Ga., cr to !•'. G.
BUOIMK, the general agent, at Louisville, Ky.
Keb. uth. 18X3. 30 iy.
America Ahead!
FOR SALE BY ALL LEADING DEALERS
ASK FOR IT! BUY IT!! TRY ITlC
March G, 1883. 34 3m*‘
T. M. H/O. T. S.
PIANOS aM ORGANS!
BEST MANUFACTURED
LARGEST STOCK!
LOWEST PRICES!
TERMS!
i
ABO Vt A L LCO M PET-1 TORS
Light Running
, No. 4.
From Macon.
No. 52.
7.30 n. m
i. Lv
Macon
Lv.
8.05 a in
7.W a. m. Ar
Savannah.
Ar.
3.50 [> 111
6.10 a. m
. Ar.
— Augusta. .
.Ar.
4.1.J p 111
Ar..
.Milledgeville.
.Ar.
10.24 a m
Ar.
.. .Eatonton...
. Ar.
12.10 p m
No. 1.
From Macon
No. 101.
9.35 a. ra.
Lv..
.. Macon
Lv.
H.oo p in'
4.21 p. m.
Ar..
.. Eufaula
.. Ar.
. 2 53 a m
4.05 p. m.
Ar..
.. .Albany
. Ar.
4.16 a m
No. 3.
Erom Macon.
No. 15.
9.oo a. m.
Lv.
... Macon
l.v.
9.35 [) IU
1.40 p. m.
Ar..
,. .Columbus..
. Ar.
G.u5 a m
No 1.
From Macon.
No. 3.
8.00 a.iu
. Lv.
.... Macon....
Lv.
7.00 p Ol
12.25 p. m
i. Ar.
Atlanta
. Ar.
11.20 p in
i
?rom Macon.
No. 51.
Macon Li
*avc
5.07 a. m.
Atlanta Arr
ive
8.45 a. m.
No. 29.
From Macon
No. 27.
t9.25 p m
Lv.
... Macon... Lv.
11.05 a nr
10.10 p m
Ar.
11.50 a m*
No. 2.
From Atlant.'
L
No. 4.
2.40 p. rn.
Lv..
. .Atlanta....
Lv.
9.30 ;> 111
6.55 p.m.
Ar..
. . Macon
A r.
5.00 a m
2.53 a. ru.
Ar..
. .Eufaula
\ r.
4 21 p ill
4.16 a. m.
Ar..
.. Albany
Ar.
4.05 p ru
6.05 a. m.
Ar..
. Columbus ..
Ar.
i .40 p Ul
Ar..
Milledgeville..
Ar.
10.24 a IU
Ar..
..Eatonton
. A r.
12.10 p 111
0.10 a. in.
Ar..
. Augusta
Ar.
4.15 p 111
7.00 a. in.
Ar..
. Savannah.. .
Ar.
3.5.1 p. Ill
No. 52.
F
rom Atlanta.
5.30 a in Lea vi
a Atlanta. .
8.50 a m i
\i liv
e... - Macon ..
4.21 p. ill. Al
rive Eufaula ..
4.05 p. ill
. Arrive Albany
1 -10 p. !L
i. Arrive Columbus.
10.24 a. m. An
rive Mflledgevil
lie,..
12.10 p. in
. An
ive Eatonton.
4.15 p. in
. An
ive Augusta .
3.50 p 111 i
trriv
e... Savannah
No. 4.
Fkom Colum uui
No. 16.
12.00 noon
i Lv.
. .Columbus
Lv.
8.1)0 p III
5.10 p. m. Ar Macon Vr. 4.05 ii in
11.20p. ni. Ar.... Atlanta. .. Ar. 8.45am
2.53 am Ar... Eufaula Ar. 4.21 p in
4 16 a. ni. Ar... .Albany Ar. 4 05 p m
Ar. .Milledgeville.. .Ar. 10.24 a m
Ar.. EatunUin Ar. 12.10 pm
6.10 a. ni. Ar.. .Augusta Ar. 4.15 p tu
7.00 a. in. Ar Savannah... Ar. 3.50 pm
No. 2. From Eufaula. No. 102.
12.01
P
rn.!
Lv.
Eufaula..
. Lv
12.39 a
ni
4.05
P
, m.
Ar
Albany..
.. A r
4.16 a
ni
6.35
P
, ip.
Ar
.. ..Macon..
. Ar
7.87 ;i
in
(>.05
a.
m.
Ar.
Columbm
Ar
1 40 p
in,
11.20
p.
m.
Ar.
.. .Atlanta..
. Ar
12.25 p
ni
,,M
llleilgcville..
A r
10.24 a
in
..Li
itonton
Ar
12.10 p
m
6.10
a.
m.
Ar.
... .Augusta.
..Ar
4.15 p
m
7.00
a.
in.
Ar.
.Savannah..
A r
3.50 p
in
No. 18.
From Albany. No. loo.
12.00 noon. Lv... Albany.... Lv. 10.40 p m
4.21 p. m. Ar Eufaula Ar. 2.53 a m
6.35 p. m. Ar... .Macon Ar. 7.37 a m
6.05 a. m. Ar Columbus. .Ar. j.4o p nr
11.20 p.m. Ar Atlanta Ar. 12.25 p m
Ar. .Milledgeville . Ar. 10.24 a ni
Ar Eatonton.... Ar. 12.10 p m
.&.10 a. m. Ar.... Augusta.. Ar. 4.15 pm
7.00 a. m. Ar Savannah. Ar. 3.50 p ni
No. 20. From Eatonton & Milled*;i:vilu
Our Large and Increased Sales, with
numerous Testimonials, verify tho fact
that our PRICES are LOWER THAN any
CITY IN THE SOUTH. Visit or write to
G. 0. ROBINSON & CO.,
Augusta, Ga.,
before purchasing, and SAVE FROM TEN
TO TWENTY PER CENT.
G H [L-EMM.-L.P.Q.S.
Special Reductions!
IN MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS,
GUITARS, VIOLINS,
ACCORDEONS, BANJOS,
TAMBORINES,
Clurionates, Flutes, Harps, Harmonicas,
Fifes, Drums, Cymbals, Cornets, Band In
struments, Picoios, Violincellos, Double
Bass, Orgauinettes, Music Boxes,
NEPLUS ULTRA STRINGS
for Violin, Guitar and Banjo.
Best Made aud everything desired in the
Line of Music.
SHEET MUSIC and MUSIC
BOOKS, largest Discount
from Publisliers’s Prices.
G. 0. ROBINSON & CO,
831 Broad St.,.. Augusta, Ga.
Dec. 4th, 1832. 21 ljr.
^ewHome#
SEWING MACHINE CO-
j0 UNION' SQUARE.NEW YORK
CHICAGO,ILL.*
ORANGE, MASS.
and ATLANTA. GA.—
jk
2.15 p. m. Lv..
.. .Eatonton
3.58 p. ni. Lv. .
..Milledgeville....
6.25 p. ni. Ar..
.. Macon
6.05 a. m. Ar..
. .Columbus
2.53 a. ru. Ar.
. .Eufaula
4.16 a. m. Ar..
. Albany
11.20 p. m. Ar.
. .Atlanta
7.00 a. m. Ar.,.
. Savannah
Nm30.
From Perky. No. 287 -
5.10 a m Lv...
.Perry Lv 2.50 p'm
5.55 a m Ar....
Macon lr 3.35 pm
M. L. BRAKE & BRO.,
20 ly.
Milledgeville, Ga
Jan. 30th, 1883.
WALL PAPER.
Fashionable Designs for
Parlors, flails, Men, 4c.
SAMPLKS AND I’lUCKS MAII.EB FRKK.
H. BARTHOLOMAE & e0„
manufacturers,
128 and 130 West 33d.Street.
NEW YOJtK.
March Cth, 1883. 34 3m.
flRCjnvra,
AUGUSTA, GA.
—:plak» pomi—
Factories, Churches,]
Residences, Opera Haases, &c.|
P.O.Box, 583.
April 17,1882.
401yr
tomen of last year without
Vegetable end Flower Seeda,
Fleets. Fruit Trees, etc. Invaluable to all. espec
ially to Market Gardeners. Send for it!
O.M. FERRY & CO. Detroit Mioh-
23 4m.
December 19th, 1882.
I CURE FITS!
When I not cure I do not mean merely to atop them for
a time and then have them return again, I mean aradU
cal cure. I have made the disease of FITS, EPILEPST
©r FALLING SICKNESS a iifo-ioug study. I warrant my
remedy to cure the worst cases. Because others have
failed Is no reason for not now receiving a cure. ?cnd at
once for a treatise and a Free Bottle of my infalliblo
remedy. Give Bxprest and Post Office. It costs you
aothinjr for a trial, and I will cure yon.
Address Dr. II. O. BOOT, lg» Pearl St., New York,
March 26, 1383. 37 4t
Bradley’s Patent Compost!
A CHEAP, RELIABLE FERTIEIZEB,
in reach of all. Save your stable ma
nure and make your own Guano. It will
produce the same results as the best Super
phosphate, at one-twentietb the cost of the
commercial manure. Farm rights for sale
~ T. BJsTHUNE,
bv B. T. BJSTHUNE, Agt.
Milledgeville. Oa.. Nov. 28th. 18B2. 2D 5m
Nov. 27, 1882.
20 ly.
■THE BEST IS CHEAPEST.'*.
SLTHRESHERSKS
Local Sleeping Cars on nil Night Trains
between Savannah and Augusta, Savan
nah and Atlanta, and Macon and Albany.
Pullman Hotel Sleeping Cars l>etwecn
Chicago and Savannah, via Cincinnati,
without change..
Pullman Palace Sleeping Cars between
Louisville. Ky., and Jacksonville, Fla.,
without change.
connections :
The Milledgeville and Eatonton Irairi
runsdaily (except Monday) between Gor
don and Eatonton, and daily (except Sun
day) between Eatonton and Gordon.
Eufaula train connects at Cutlibert for
Fort Gaines daily, (except Sunday.)
The accommodation train between Afa-
con aud Perry runs daily (except Sunday.)
The Albany and Blakely train runs daily
(except Sunday) between Albany and
Blakely. J
The Albany accommodation train runs
daily (except Monday) from Smithviile to
Albany, and daily (except Sunday) from
Albany to Smithviile.
At Savannah with Savannah, Florida anil
Western Railway; at Augusta with all
lines to North and East; at Atlanta with
Air Line and Kennesaw Routes to all
points North, East and West.
G. A. WHITEHEAD, WM. ROGERS,
Gen. Pass. Agt. Oen.Supt., Savannah..
J.C. Shaw, W. F. Shkllman,
Gen. Trav. Agt. Supt. S. W. R. R. Macon
MILL & FACTORY SUPPLIES
OF ALL KINDS. BELTING, HOSE
and PACKING, OILS. PUMPS ALL •
KINDS, IRON PIPE, FITTINGS,
BRASS GOODS, STEAM GAUGES,
ENGINE GOVERNORS, &c. Send for
PrioeJitt. W. H. DILLINGHAM i CO.
421 Main Street, LOUISVILLE, KY.
Oct. 10.1882. 13 l¥.
Paynes’ AUTOMATIC Engines.
2 to IOO Horse Power,
m
■JsssraasMws
[inr built, not firrc<! uith an an
Lr srnt'frec.
August 8th
ohiL'mI. Will fW&ish a horse
ater than a»jr other «••»-
automatic cut-t.’t. C -.tniu^tac
w. Payot * Sons, Bow CorninjXX. Y.
a m ly..
PARKER’S
HAIR BALSAM
A beneficial dressing
preferred to sirnilar^iV
ides because of its ptrfi-
ty and rich perfume. It
Kestorw to Cray ll*ir
he Youthful Color#
prevents dandruff and
feUifig of the hair,
frftr, qj|l.Hiacox& Co. t N.X,
FLORE ST ON
lent teven
melted to eC eertkme.) Wrltefervan
mm “ ' " “
Amt Iillm
FMtoetoTbo Aultmeii A Taylar Oft,
March 6.1883. 31 5m
H Excel* th* tin-
■ very lasting,
■ TON Cologne. *<]
■ label. 85 uJ 75
tha finest flower extracts
like i L Be sore jroa get
Colon*,ripmtureol Hiacox & Co.,.”
— " -t dnurguuarxf ilmlera
COLOGNE
Dec. Util, 1882.
43 ly