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i&Bfcai MmmimiMh mmaam ^ecor3ei 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