Newspaper Page Text
NUMBER 28
VOLUME XLII.
■
B. M. ORME & SON.
editors axd proprietors
STEPHEN F. MILLER,
ASSOCIATE EDITOR.
•rp Tho Recorder is published weekly, at the
; 0 , v ”,:-ire of Two Dollaks per annum, when paid
i jrnnct—if not in advance, Two Dollars akju
j. ^tv Cext:—and it not within the year, Three
; ii.i.aks per annum. No subscriptions received for
; P .s tiiau six months—to be paid always in advance,
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Subscribers wishing the direction ot their paper
i. will notitv u.s from tvliat office it is to he
t r inferred.
Advertisements conspicuously inserted at $100
juarc for the tirst insertion, and 50 cents per
I -:.-.: c for each subsequent insertion. Those sent
without a specification of the number of insertions,
viiJ be published until ordered out, and charged ac
cordingly.
Sales of Land and Negroes, by Administrators, Ex-
irnrs. or Guardians, are required by law to be held
a Lie first i uesday in the inoutb, between the hours
oft ‘ii in the forenoon, and three in the afternoon, at
t!i'' Court house, in the county in which the proper
ty!* situate. Xotices ot these sales must be given
in a public gazette FORTY days previous to the day
Notices for the sale of personal property must be
f.' ui at least tf.x days previous to the day of sale.
Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an Estate must
;.j published forty days.
\ • ■ that application will be made to the Court
' nary for leave to sell Land or Xegroes, must
published for TWO MONTHS.
Citations tor Letters of Administration must be
published thirii/ days—for Dismission from Admin-
'-tmtbm. Monthly sir. months—for Dismission from
(ir.inliansbip, forty days.
Rules tor I oreclosure of Mortgage must be puh-
-d monthly Jar four mouths—for establishing lost
. pers, for the full space of three months—for compel-
_ :isles trom Executors and Administrators, where
u bond has been given by the deceased, the full
-iiucr of three months.
Publications will always be continued according
to these, the legal requirements, unless otherwise
ordered.
All business in the line of Printing, will meet
with prompt attention at the Recorder Office.
MILLEDGEVILLE, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, JULY 9, 1861.
}
Proposed Contribution for wants of soldiers—
Proportionate share of each County.
Comptroller General’s Office,
Milledgeville, May 22,1831.
His Excellency Joseph E. Brotcn.
t n Sl V~ In C0 * n Pl‘ ancf ‘ with your request con
tained m an address to the People of Georgia, uu
uer date of the 17th inst. I herewith furnish vou an
approximate statement of the “amount which would
be the just proportion of each county, should each
determine to coutribme its part of the one million
dollars proposed [by your Excellency] to he rais
ed, to be used by the State in equipping and
and providing tor the wants of the Georgia troops”
now or that may hereafter be in the service of the
country, during the present war.
This statement is made upon the basis of the nett
amount ot tax paid into the State Treasury from
the several counties, for the year 1800. It is only
an approximate apportionment, however. The
rule in this office in reiation to prompt payments
COL'RT CALENDAR FOR 1SG1.
REVISED BY THE SOUTHERN RECORDER.
SUPERIOR COURTS.
JANUARY.
Ci Monday, Cuatham
a. Monday, Ri.-liraond
Lumpkin
*Floy d
FEBRUARY.
,> Monday,Clark
•;J Monday, Campbell
Dawson
3d Monday, Forsyth
tPolk
Glascock
Meriwether
Walton
i ;. Monday, Baldwin
J ackson
Mom oe
Paulding
Taliaferro
Walker
MARCH.
1st Thursday,Pierce
JULY
1st Monday, Floyd*
A ill Mo.iday. Lumpkin*
AUGUST.
2,1 Monday, Campbell
Clark
Dawson
3d Monday, Forsyth
JPulk
Glascock
Meriwether
W a I ton
14 th Moud ay .Baldwin
J ackson
Monroe
Paulding
Taliaferro
Walker
[Thursday after,Pierce
SEPTEMBER.
ay, Appling
Cltauooga
Cuaitooga
Cherokee
Clierokee
Columbia
Coweta
Coweta
Columbia
Crawford
Crawford
Madison
Gwinnett
Marion
Madison
Morgan
M arion
2d Monday,Butts
Morgan
Cass
y. Butts
Coffee
Cass
Elbert
Coffee
F ayette
Elbeit
Greene
Faveite
Gwinnett
Greene
Pickens
Pickens
Washington
Washington
Webster
Webster
2d Monday-, Cobb
Monday,
iday aft’r,Montg<
inday, Cobh
Calhoun
Hall
Hart
Heard
Macon
Newton
Putnam
Talbot
Tattnall
Ware
after,Bulloch
v Calhoun
"i Hall
Hart
Heard
Macon
Newton
Putnam
Talbot
W are
Bulloch,
4th Monday, Clinch
||Chatahoorhee
Emanuel
Monday, Clinch
Lee
(jChattahoochee
Twiggs
Emanuel
White
Lee
Wilkes
Twiggs
Monday af- ~)
White
the 4th > Echols
Wilkes
M.onday J
t:.i Mon- ^
OCTOBER.
dav 5 ^® n 6^ ara
1st Jc 2d Mon.Carroll
APRIL.
1st Monday Dooly
-tk 2J Mon. Carroll
Early
• n Monday, Dooly
F niton
Early
Gilmer
Fulton
Gordon
Gordon
Taylor
Pike
Warren
Rabun
Wilkinson
Taylor
Pike
Warren
Wednesday after.Rabun
Wilkinson
2d Monday, Fannin
•. Monday, Habersham
Habersham
Hancock
Hancock
Harris
Harris
Lauretta
Lau reus
Miller
Miller
Scriven
Scriven
Sumter
Smnter
Tiesd ay after. McIntosh
3d Monday, Franklin
Monday, Franklin
Glynn
Glynn
Haralson
Haralson
Henry
Henry
Jefferson
Jefferson |
J ones
J ones
Murray
Liberty
Oglethorpe
Murray
Pulaski
Oglethorpe
Stewart
Pulaski
Union
Stewart
W orth
) Worth
Thursday } Montgomery
after, $ *Bryan
after )
* Monday,Wayne
4th Monday,Banks
Banks
Wayne
Decatur
Decatu r
DeKalb
DeKalb
Houston
Houston
Jasper
Jasper
Lincoln
Lincoln
Schley
Schley
WhiiHeld
Tattnall
Wilcox
Towns
iiay after,Telfair
Whitfield
Camden
Wilcox
i,lr sday after,Irwin 1
Friday after Telfair
a ndav “ Berrien
Camden
Charlton
Thursday after, Irwin
Mond a
MAY.
hi Monday, Clayton
Gilmer
Randolph
Upson
Burke
Catoosa
Chatham
F annin
Mitchell
Muscogee
J -'Lnday. Bibb
Quitman
Spalding
Troup
Union
, Baker
‘Monday, Dade
Terrell
, Towns
QRMonday, Colquitt
JUNE.
Monday, Dougherty
Lowndes
., Milton
'■ Monday, Brooks
{Clay
... Johnson
. • h'nday, Thomas
1 Monday, Richmond
’Ma
Monday after Charlton
NOVEMBER.
1st Monday, Berrien
Clayton
^ Effingham
Milton
Randolph
Upson
2d Monday,Burke
Catoosa
Mitchell
Muscogee
3d Monday, Bibb
Quitman
Spalding
Troup
Baker
4lh Monday, Dade
Terrell
Thursday after. McIntosh
Monday after. Colquitt
do do Liberty
Mon after Liberty. Bryan
DECEMBER.
1st Monday, Dougherty
Lowjides
2d Monday, Brooks
"Clay
Johnson
j Id Monday, Thomas
hold throe weeks, if necessary, at each
’ * jus change not to take effect till after the next
" u ‘ i4T term of the Court.
■'V Courts in Clay county, which, under the
. V V 1 ." ’ would sit between now and the times as
fc( i ' ''.v this act, must stand over till the times fix-
1 j” above.
^ County of Chattahoochee, by act of this
(h, ' 01 ?' * s to be added to, and become a part of the
In I a 10<K ‘hee Judicial District, after 1st January,
^anks for sale at this Office.
have their insolvent lists at this office as the law
requires, they have to pay into the State Treasury
the whole amount ol the.tax of their counties, after
deducting tin' Receivers and Collectors conunis
sions. This enables the Collectors to take their own
time to obtain their insolvent lists without detri
ment to the State; and the same arc allowed, if
correct and in due form, and the money refunded
for them whenever presented at this office. A
large number of Collectors make their settlements
in this w ay. Many have already sent forward their
insolvent lists, and have had the amounts of their
over-payments refunded to them, while the Gener
al lax of I860 is still indebted to a respectable
number ot counties for their insolvent lists. Until
these come in, there is no arriving at the precise
amount to be apportioned to each county ; but hav
ing made allow ances for the same, I think the fol
lowing apportionment would not be changed mate
rially, were all these over-payments refunded:
Appling,
Baker,
Baldwin,
Banks,
Berrien,
Bibb,
Brooks,
Bryan,
Bulloch,
Burke,
Butts,
Calhoun,
Camden,
Campbell,
Carroll,
Cass,
Catoosa,
Charlton,
Chatham,
Cliattahooche,
Chattooga,
Cherokee,
Clark,
Clay,
Clayton,
Clinch,
Cobb,
Coffee,
Columbia,
Colquitt,
Coweta,
Crawford.
Dade,
Dawson,
Decatur,
Dekalb,
Doffiy,
Dougherty,
Early,
Echols,
Effingham,
Elbert,
Emanuel,
Fannin,
Fayette,
Floyd.
Forsyth,
Franklin,
Fulton,
Gilmer,
Glasscock,
Glynn,
Greeue,
Gordon,
Gwinnett,
Habersham,
Hall,
Hancock,
Haralson,
Harris,
Hart,
Heard,
Henry,
Houston,
Irwin,
Jackson,
$1,779
7,490
8,7(52
2,304
1,876
22,449
7,505
3,063
4,095
19,261
6,257
* 4.728
4,957
5,909
5,8,1:9
14,615
3,515
1,080
42,351
5,020
5,333
4,817
13,523
4 522
3,090
1,789
10,318
1,501
13,267
529
14,625
8,201
1,467
1,160
11,763
5,613
8,820
11 625
7,678
722
3,641
11,588
3,449
1,328
4,(557
15,641
3,086
3,088
13,503
1.463
1,540
4,607
14,288
6,525
7,059
2,352
4,830
13,798
1,070
15,512
3,359
5.760
9,633
19,914
897
6,660
Jasper,
Jefferson,
Johnson,
Jones,
Laurens,
Lee,
Liberty,
Lincoln,
Lowndes,
Lumpkin,
Macon,
Madison,
Marion,
McIntosh,
Meriwether,
Miller,
Milton,
Mitchell,
Monroe.
Montgomery,
Morgan,
Murray,
Muscogee,
Xewton,
Oglethorpe,
Paulding,
Pickens,
Pierce,
Pike,
Polk,
Pulaski,
Putnam,
Quitman,
Kabun,
Randolph,
Richmond.
Sehely,
Scriven,
Spalding,
Stewart,
Sumter,
I albot,
Taliaferro,
Tattnall,
Taylor.
Terrell,
Telfair,
Thomas,
Towns,
Troup,
Twiggs,
Union,
Upson.
Walker,
Walton,
Ware,
Warren,
Washington,
Wayne,
Webster.
White,
Whitfield,
Wilcox,
Wilkes,
Wilkinson,
Worth,
11,924
10,778
1,835
10,237
5,658
9,510
6,949
6,310
4,663
1,81J
9,841
3,524
7,0(59
4 916
15,909
1,955
2.043
3.454
19,115
2,023
12,046
3,759
21,364
13,397
12,417
2,123
1,404
845
9,306
5,547
7,849
13,496
4.734
948
9,594
33,495
4,623
7.069
9,416
15,190
14,705
15,500
4,382
2,747
5.070
5,859
1,755
14,027
836
21,413
9,411
1,214
9,818
6,001
9,080
1,357
10,290
13,806
1,177
5.043
1,214
6,494
1,105
13,324
8,531
1.779
$ 1,000,000
Very respectfully. Your ob’t. serv’t.,
PETERSOX THWEATT.
Comptroller General.
(CIRCULAR.)
EXECUTIVE DEPARTMEXT, )
Adjutant General’s Office, [•
Milledgeville, Ga., May 18,1861. )
As the Confederate Government does not. at
present, furnish clothing in hind, to the Volunteers
called into its service, but a commutation therefor
in money, every Volunteer ought, when mustered
in, for his own comfort and health, to be sufficient
ly provided with articles of uniform and dress to
meet his immediate wants, and for the probable
necessities of at least three months.
It is therefore recommended that each Volunteer
will, as far as practicable, present himself at the ren
dezvous, where he is to he transferred into the ser
vice of the Confederacy, provided with the follow
ing articles of uniform and dress, viz:
1 Coat, or Jacket, (as may be the uniform.)
2 pr. Trousers.
1 Forage or Fatigue Cap.
2 Flannel Shirts.
2 pr’s. Draw ers.
3 pr’s Socks, Woolen or Cotton, Woolen best.
2 pr’s Bootees, Ankle or Jefferson, or Brogans
with full broad soles, and low flat broad heels.
2 Colored pocket Handkerchiefs.
1 light Black Neck Tie.
1 Comb.
1 strong Pocket Kui fe.
J small Tin Cup.
1 Iron Spoon.
1 Knife, 1 Fork.
It would be well, also, if each man took with
him a flannel band, of from 8 to 10 inches wide,
provided with strings to he worn over the abdo
men, (next the skin,) for the prevention of camp
diarrhoea or dysentery when exposed to damps, or
on the first indication of a change of habit.
lied for ilaunel shirts is to be avoided, as it pre
sents an excellent mark for the enemy. Gray or
blur are the better colors.
High or narrow heels to the boots or shoes should
not be worn, as they are injurious to the feet.—
Bootees are far preferable to boots of any kind in
summer.
Such articles as are not worn or carried about
the person to be neatly packed in, or to be attach
ed to the knapsack or valise.
To facilitate arrangements for securing a regu
lar supply of clothing from home, it is recommend
ed to Companies to consider the advantage ofturn-
ingover to the Captain, or other responsible agent,
their commutation, as paid, to be applied in such
manner as may have been determined upon.
It is essential to the health of the soldier, wheth
er in barracks or in camp, that he he clean in per
son, regular inhabits, and physically exercised.—
The two first can be attained by dividing each
Company into four or more squads or messes, and
assigning to each a subaltern, or non-commission
ed officer, to supervise the persons, habits, and di
et of the men. who by a word of friendly counsel
when retptired may correct neglect in cither, llie
third, or physical exercise, rests with the Captain
or Commander of the Company, who, for his dis
cipline and efficiency, should in some manner or
other employ his men actively every day.
By order of the Commander-in-Chief:
HENRY C. WAYNE.
Adj. &. Ins. General.
Shoes! Shoes!!
8,000 PAIR.
W E WOULD call the attention of Planters
and others to our STOCK OF SHOES.
SCOTT & CARAKER.
Milledgeville, June 18, 1861 25 4t
Voder the Vieieta.
Her hands are cold, her face is white ;
No more her pulses come and go;
Her eyes are shut to life and light;
Fold the white vesture, snow on snow.
And lay her where the violets blow.
But not beneath a graven stone,
To plead for tears with alien ejKs;
A slender cross of wood alone
Shall say, that here a maiden lies
In peace beneath the peaceful skies.
And gray old trees, with hugest limbs.
Shall wheel their circling shadows round,
To make the scorching sunlight dim,
That drinks the greenness from the ground-
And drop their dead leaves on her monnd.
When o’er their boughs the squirrels run,
And through their leaves the robins call,
And, ripening in the autumn sun,
The acorns and the chestnuts fall;
Doubt not that she will heed them all.
For her the morning choir shall sing
Its matins from the branches high,
And every minstrel voice of spring,
That trills beneath an April sky,
Shall greet her with its earliest cry.
When turning round their dial-track,
Eastward the lengthening shadows pass,
Her little mourner, clad in black—
The crickets—sliding through the grass,
Shall pipe for her an evening mass.
At last the rootlets of the trees
Shall find the prison where she lies,
And bear the buried dust they seize
In leaves and blossoms to the skies—
So may the soul that warmed it rise !
If any, born of kindlier blood,
Should ask, What maiden lies below ?
Say only this : A tender bud,
That tried to blossom in the snow,
Lies withered where the violets blow.
;P¥f0CflKAItfOtl8f<
Confederate
T REASURY - NOTES and .BONDS taken at
PAR for Furniture or Notes and Accounts
due WOOD & CO > Macon, Ga.
Macon, June 18, J861 25 26t
Randolph of Roanoke.
BY JAMES K. PAULDING.
Among the descendants of Pocahontas,
the most remarkable are John Randolph
and Polling Robertson, each exhibiting in
complexion and physiognomy indubitable
traces of common stock. The eyes of
both are perfectly Indian—black, shining,
and occasionally fierce. Indeed, I have
never met with a man having a cross of the
aboriginal, that did not show it like a
blood-horse. The marks seem indelible,
both in body and mind.
In my visit to Washington, four win
ters ago, it was my fortune to lodge in
the same hotel with Mr. Randolph, and to
to be favored with his acquaintance 1 might
almost say his friendship, which notwith
standing his alleged wayward disposition
is, I am told, generally steadfast and sin
cere. He is certainly the most extraor
dinary personage I have known, and, on
the whole, the greatest orator I have
heard. There is wit in everything he
says, and eloquence at the very end of his
long fingers. lie is the last man in the
world into whose hands I should wish to
fall in a debate, for he cuts with a two-
edged sword, aud makes warlike his Indi
an ancestors, sparing neither sex nor age.
Yet his kindness is irresistable, and when
he wishes to evince it, the tones of his
voice and the expression of his eye, go
equally to the heart.
His style of oratory in Congress is em
phatically his own. He is, indeed, orig
inal and unique in everything. His lan
guage is simple, though polished ; brief,
though rich, and as direct as the arrow
from the Indian bow. He often flies, ap
parently from his subject, but, how
ever lie may seem to drift without rudder
or compass, never fails to return with a
bound, illustrating it with flashes of liv
ing light. Though eccentric in the or
dinary intercourse of life, there will be
found more of what is called plain com
mon-sense in his speeches than in those of
any other member of Congress. His illus
trations are almost always drawn from the
most familiar sources, and no man is so hap
py in allusions to fables, proverbs, and in
cidents of the day. He never declaims,
or sacrifices streugth, clearness, and sim
plicity to the more popular charms of
redundant metaphor and full-rounded pe
riods. He is abrupt, sententious, and la-
laconic. Nothing, indeed, is more easy of
comprehension than the expressed ideas of
the great orator of Old Virginia. Though
exceedingly irritable in debate, he is nev
er loud or boisterous, but utters biting sar
casms in a manner the most provokingly
cool, and a vocie that suggests the music
of the spheres. Such is the admirable
clearness and perfection of his enunciation,
that his lowest tones circulate like echoes
through the halls of Congress. In short,
in all the requisites of a great orator, he
has no superior, and, in the greatest of all,
the power of attracting, charming, riveting
the attention of an audience, no equal iu
this country.
Mr. Randolph has shared the fortune of
most political leaders, in having his con
duct misrepresented, his foibles—which,
heaven knows, are sufficiently formidable
—exaggerated, and his peculiarities cari
catured, without remorse. The fault is,
in a great measure, his own. He spares
no adversary, aud has no right to expect
quarter from others. In this respect his
fate may serve as a beacon, indicating the
necessity of toleration in politics as well
as religion. That he is capricious, and
careless of wounding those for whom he
has no particular regard, no one will deny.
That he is impatient in argument, and in
tolerant of opposition, is equally certain,
anil the whole world knows, that he is lit
tle solicitous to disguise his contempt or
dislike. But much of this peevishness
may find its origin an excuse in his phys
ical sufferings. Almost frbm boyhood lie
has not known the blessing of health,
nor enjoyed even its anticipation. His
constitution is irretrievably broken and
though lie may live many years, they will
in all probability, be years of anxiety and
suffering, imbittered not only by the ab
sence of hope, but by the ridicule, in
stead of the sympathy, of tlie world,
which is ever too apt to suppose that
a man cannot be sick without dying.
Men lingering under the slow decay of a
constitutional infirmity, and perishing not
by inches, but tho hundredth part of an
iuch, seetn to me the most pitiable of the
human race. The world, and even their
nearest friends, come at last to believe
their malady imaginary, complaint*- with
out cause. They grow tired of bearing a
man always proclaiming himself a victim
to disease, yet at the same time appearing
to take his share in the business, as well
as the enjoyments of society, and living
on like the rest of his fellowworm&—
“They jest at scars that never felt a
wound,'’ and the very circumstances that
should excite additional commiseration,
too often gives occasion to cold neglect or
flippant ridicule.
In this painful and trying condition was
Mr. Randolph when I saw him, and it is
but fair to urge that some apology at least
for his indifference to the feelings of others,
might be found in the liarrassing nature
of his own. I know of no situation more
aptly calculated to make a man a misan-
trope; and those who are foremost and
loudest in their condemnation, would do
well to look into their own hearts, put
themselves in his place, and then ask
whether it does not naturally lead to,
though it may not justify, occasional pe
tulance, if not habitual ill temper. I here
speak of him as the world generally does.
But so far as I saw him, and this was at
all hours, he was full of benignity. His
treatment of his servants, and especially
of his own slaves, was that of the most in
dulgent master, and lie always called his
personal attendant “Johnny,” which di
minutive, to my mind, strongly indicated
an habitual good-will toward them. It is
thus we designate our familiar friend, and
the children of our love. To me, from
whoso admiration or applause he could
anticipate neither honor or advantage, his
behavior was uniformly kind, almost affec
tionate, and it will be long before I forget
his melancholy, yet conciliatory smile, the
music of his voice, or the^magic of his gen
tle manners.
We passed our evenings together for
some weeks, or rather I may say the bet
ter part of our nights for he loved to sit np
late, because, as he was wont to say, the
grave not the bed, was his place of rest.—
On these occasions there was a charm in
his conversation I never found in that of
any other person. Old Virginia was the
goddess of his idolatry, and of her he de
lighted to talk. The glories and triumphs
of Patrick Henry’s eloquence, aud the an
cient hospitality of the patricians on James
River, was among his favorite topics, of
which he never tired, and with which
he never tired me. In short, the im
pression on my mind, never to be eradi
cated, is, that his heart was naturally lib
eral, opeu, and gracious, and that his oc
casional ebulitious of splenetic impatience
are the spontaneous, perhaps irrepresssible,
efforts of a debilitated frame, to releive it
moment from the impression of its own
ceaseless worrying.
Mr. Randolph is, beyond comparison,
the most striking person I have ever seen.
He is made up of contradictions. Though
his person is exceedingly tall, thin, and
ill-proportioned, lie is the most graceful
man iu the world when he pleases; and
with an almost feminine voice, his whis
pers are heard across a room. When seat
ed on the opposite side of the hall of Con
gress, he looks like a boy of fifteen ; but
when he rises to speak, he seems to stretch
and expand his figure almost into sublimi
ty, from the contrast between his height
when sitting and stauding. In the former,
his shoulders are raised, liis head depress
ed, his body sunk almost into invisibility ;
in the latter he is seen, liis figure dilated,
iu the attitude of inspiration, his head rais
ed, his long white fingers pointing, and
his dark Indian eye flashing at the object
of his overwhelming sarcasm.
I regret to add, that this extraordinary
man will in all probability, survive hut a
few years. A premature decay seems
gradually creeping, almost imperceptibly,
over all his vital powers, and an irresisti
ble, unseen influence, that baffles human
skill and human means, appears to be drag
ging him like an inexorible creditor to the
grave. At the age of thirty-one or two,
with wealth in possession, fame as liis
handmaid, and glory and power in bright
perspective, he is a mere wreck of humani
ty ; with light glossy hair parted over his
forehead, and tied with a black ribbon be
hind ; teeth white as ivory, eyes instinct
with intellect, and a countenance seamed
with innumerable wrinkles. At the dis
tance of a hundred yards, he may be mis
taken for an overgrown, premature boy;
approach him and at every step his appear
ance changes, and he becomes gradually
metamorphosed into a decript old man.
You will then sec a face such as you nev
er have seen, never will see again ; if he
likes you a smile such as you never beheld
light up another visage ; and when that
passes away, a countenance weaving an|ex-
pression of anxiety and suffering, that will
make your heart ache if it never ached be
fore.
Such is John Randolph, the descendant
of Pocahontas, as he appeared to me. He
may be self-willed and erratic. His oppo
nents sometimes insinuate that he is insane,
becanse he secs what they cannot see, and
sjeaks in the spirit of inspiration of things
to come. He looks into the clear mirror
offuturity, with an eye that never winks
and they think he is staring at some phan
tom of liis own creation. He talks of
things past their comprehension, and they
pronounce him mad.
Domestic Ideality.
Ideality is a beautiful word, and it
stands fora beautiful tiling. Every body
lias interest in it, and, therefore, every
body should preserve it from false associ
ations. Some persons have no conception
of its meaning. It is a fiction of tho dic
tionary, and, as such, dismissed from their
understandings. Others consider it as the
opposite of reality. They, too, arc in er
ror. For ideality is the very soul of leal-
ity. It is reality over aud above its low
limitations by the senses—reality expan
ded and perfected. Every object around
us is more or less beneath itself, debased
by its connections, impaired by its circum
stances. It has an idea, shut up in its
bosom, better than its form, aspect mani
festation ; and ideality professes to seize
this original idea aud bring it forth, so
that we may see and love the essential
spirit of the thing itself.
Is there an idol of home and domestic
life / Y'ankee like we may answer the
question by asking another. Has God a
purpose of gentle tender love iu home and
its offices I If so, then that purpose, de
fined to the mind and embraced by the
heart, is the ideal of home. Let us see
bow this thought inay be elaborated.
You see a bird's nest. Admire as you
may the mechanical skill and' mauifold
uses of the simple but perfect contrivance,
it is something more to your eye than a lit
tle receptacle for eggs and ft nursery for
young birds. It goqs beyond this fact in
its impression. You transfer a sentiment
—a thought with a feeling—to it. Mater
nal love, watchfulness aud care, mnsic and
animated life, are indenttfied with its
peaceful shelter tinder the drooping foil-
age. But suppose you take a heme where
kindred hearts are dwelling in serene and
growing companionship—a human home
with its fireside, table, and alter—there is
something more about it than the outside
senses report or the recipient intellect is
content to know. The simplest form of
consciousness is impelled to superadd oth
er ideas to^it. Thoughts as solid as any
fact, and feelings thoroughly instinctive
and therefore unquestioned, spring up in its
presence. Bare walls smile ; the firesides
has another warmth than its fire, and the
table is spread with a sweeter repast than
the body enjoys. Certainly the imagina
tion finds exercise here; andperliaps its
earliest sense of something beyond the or
dinary routine of mecbanicle life—of a
bliss hidden far below the surface of oar
being—of a spirit that replenishes the soul
out of its vast fullness, springs up at the
bidding of this genial sentiment.
The ideality of home is seen in the fact
that no true hearted man ever yet found
poet, novelist, philosopher, divine, who
could exactly, fully, satisfactorily embody
its charm. The songs have no apt sylla
bles, the intellect no complete images to
set it forth in its native aspeet. Who ev
er saw his own fireside in print ? Who
ever beheld his wife and children in litera
ture ? Who ever met with his own soul,
as that soul throbs and glows at its hearth
and altar, in fine, essays in brilliant ro
mances ? Men of cold temperament, men
of social misfortunes may, perchance, ac
cept these pictures of the imagination, and
rest contentedly in them as the elysinm of
life. Bnt not so those to whom Heaven
has opened the mystery of love. The
great heart of home is always their own
private heart, above and beyond utterance,
awaiting no revealer, no seer, no bard.
Thanks for this gracious prerogative !—
The intellect retains its royal dignity
here, and the soul is entitled to enjoy this
jubilee. YVc are proud of nothing on this
earth except this one thing, viz : language
cannot take all our thoughts and make
them over by quick title-deeds to this ava
ricious world. The whole race of poets
stand outside of us in this untouched and
uuapproacbed heritage of personal glory.
Home, wife, children, are ours—in sen
timent, in perfected consciousness, in rap
ture, in exclusive and seclnsive meaning,
ours, such as no genius .may hope to speak
iu words.
But liow shall we realize this domestic
ideality ? The relations of husband and
wife, parents and children, brothers and
sisters, were certainly not meant to be free
from the intrusion of disturbing causes.—
They are human relations, and, as such,
subject to the laws and circumstances of
human life. But the truth of ideality still
holds good ; there is room enough in them,
with all their earthly liabilities and infirm
ities—room enough for a great soul to ani
mate them. If a man or a woman has no
other ideas of these ties and their offices
than just such are suggested by observing
their outward action; if they see nothing
beyond the machinery of household duty
and toil, then all ideality is banished from
their conceptions. But look deeper ; see
what heart throbs iu those busy hands and
active feet; see what a joy beams around
the fireside ; see what a charm there is in
homely service ; see how mind and manner
are continually working upward toward
something above the mere forms and usa
ges of conventional proprity, and replen
ishing their freshness and vigor out of the
deep resonices that imagination holds for
affection ; see this life of love never con
tented with words or deeds, but still seek
ing a stronger and more perfect expression,
and you have the silent mighty influence
of this domestic ideality. It is idle to sup
pose that many persons enjoy the serene
presence of this ideality with them in their
daily being. Great love is almost as rare as
great genius. But it is possible iu a far
higher degree than we generally believe.
Sentiment is not designed to dwell by
itself, to commune with flowers and rain
bows, to waste away in poetic raptures, to
float in the clouds as on a bed of sloth. It
is the twin-sister of all strong, earnest, pro
found feeling; and it is God’s purposes,
by means of elevated sentiment and im
passioned feeling, to lift up our earthly re
lations above the dust and drudgery of a
dull existence, and qualify them in this
way to prepare us for a still higher com
panionship in the world above.
Then comes the ministry of sorrow to
our homes aud hearts, and then the an
guish beyond tears, aud then the solitary
pathos of life as wifo and children fall in
to the grave. How the soul, in these des
olate hours, how the soul of everything
has escaped ! Not even our prayers and
praises are the same. Sublime words,
grand images, pathetic passages, seem sud
denly and strangely to have lost all their
meaning. The heart knows not its own
throb, and the pulse in our forehead moves
to an alien measure. But better moments
come, and then how stroug grief makes
the soul! Not untinged with selfishness,
and yet purged of all its grossness, is the
thought that no more remains to be suffer
ed—the cup of life drained to its dregs of
the wormwood aud the gall. Thus, by
the same means, comes au end to joy and
an end to sorrow ; and the spirit, asceud-
ing from their experience to God, finds the
long concealed import of earthly love it
the hopes and aspirations of its immortal
nature.
“ Lay np for yourselves treasures in
Heaven.”
The advantage of making this rale the
aim of one’s life is very strikingly enforced
in the following dialogue from the works
of Bishop Hall:
“ There was a certain nobleman,” says
the Bishop, “ who kept a jester, to whom
lie one day gave a staff, with the charge
to keep it until he should meet with one
who was a greater fool than himself. Not
many years after the nobleman fell sick
even unto death. The fool came to see
him. His sick lord said to him, * I most
shortly leave you.’
“ And whither art thou going ?” said the
fool.
“ Into another world,’ was the reply.
“ And when wilt thou come again ?—
Within a month V
“ No.’
“ Within a year V
“ No.’
“ When then?’
“ Never.'
“Never !’ said the fool; ‘and what pro
vision for thy entertainment hast tbon
made there ?’ .
None at all.’
“ No !’ said the fool: * none at all !’-—
‘ Here, take my staff, for, with all my folly,
I am not guilty of roeh folly as this.”
Tbe Descendants of Eminent British Worthies.
Glancing, the other day, over the lives
of our most distinguished English celebri
ties, we were struk with the suddenness
with which the race of such men has come
to an end. The subject is one which
worthy of more careful inquiry than it has
yet met with, although the circumstances
has before been adverted to. Let us, how
ever, in the meantime, merely touch this
curious subject, in the hope that it may
lead others a little further into a most in
teresting course of inquiry.
We may put Shakespear at the head of
the list. His eldest daughter, Susanna,
was married at Stratford, June 6th, 1G07,
to Mr. John Hall. There was only ouc
child by this marriage. Tbe youngest
daughter was married to Thomas Quiuey.
At Shakespear s death, in 1G1G, the family
consisted of liis wife, his daughter, Susan
na, and her husband, Dr. Hall; Judith
and Thomas Quinney, and Elizabeth Hall,
grand daughter. Judith Quinney had
several children, who were all dead in ,39.
The poet’s granddaughter, Elizabeth
Hall, was married in 1G2G, to Thomas Nash,
who died in 1G17, without issue : and sec
ondly, in 1649, to John Barnard, of Aping
ton, county of Northampton, by whom she
had no family, and died in 1670. Tlius,
in fifty-four years, Shakespeare’s descen
dants, both male and female, came to an
end.
Milton, the poet, left female descend
ants only, whose family are believed long
since to have ceased to exist. A poor wo
man, named Clark, some years ago claim
ed to be the last descendant from John
Milton.
The male line of Sir Christopher Wren
was speedily extinguished, and we some
time since stated the belief that the female
line had also ceased ; a correspondent,
however mentioned that, at the time lie
wrote, (a few years ago,) an old lady de
scending from the great architect, was still
living.
Sir Joshua Reynolds, Cowper, the poet,
Pope, Locke, Seldom Thomas Campbell,
Oliver Goldsmith, Wilkie, De,an Swift,
Sir Isaac Newton, Hogarth, Tnrner, the
landscape painter, Sir Humphrey Davy,
Edmund Burke, Pitt—left no descendants.
Robert Stephenson ended the line of his
father George.
Notwithstanding all the anxiety of Sir
Walter Scott to establish a family inheri
tance, his direct race lias perished, and
those of but slight relationship inherit his
land and title.
We believe that with the sons of Robert
Burns, the family of the national poet of
Scotland will expire.
Lord Byron is only represented on the
female side.
It would be easy to prolong this list to
a great extent. We have not omitted to
look at the reasons and circumstances
which may be supposed to argue against
the facts to which we allude ; but we be
lieve that a more careful and extensive re
search would show that, in nine cases out
of ten, the race of those of mighty intel
lect has, with remarkable suddenness,
come to an end.
A Dying Nation.—The New Y’ork Day
Book says : A merchant of this city, whose
opinion is entitled to credit, both from liis
experience and his sagacity, says that it
is useless to deny that a complete financial
wreck of the whole North is inevitable, un
less something is done when Congress
meets to bring about an honorable peace.’ ”
“It is a sad business to walk out in tbe
streets. One can scarcely persuade him
self that lie is not in Bedlam. Such faces ?
Some blazing with fiendish passions, oth
ers, sad, sorrowful and despairing; but
not one pleasant and joyous counte
nance in the whole city. There is some
thing in every man’s face which seems to
say ‘a nation is dying !’ ”
The Interest Great Britain has in the
Confederate States.—English authori
ties have recently estimated the capital
invested by their countrymen, in spanning
and weaving cotton aloue, about $326,250,-
000, and that a further sum of $150,000,-
000 must be added for the processes of
dyeiug, printing, and bleaching. The
floating capital of the importers of the raw
material is estimated at $32,500,000 ; that
of the ship owners at 815,000,000—a total,
independent of all subsidary trades minis
tering indirectly, of $523,750,000. These
are the estimates of Mr. James A. Mann,
in his “Cotton Trade of Great Britain”
published iu London last year. The
Westminster llecieic for April adopts these
figures, and although large, does not think
there is any reason for believing them to
be exaggerated.
An Arkansas Heroine.—The Pocahon
tas (Ark.) Advertiser, of the 31st ult., has
tbe following :
Miss Williams,the daughter of Isaac Wil
liams, living on Black River swamp, about
seven miles from this place, heard the re
port of the approach of troops to this place
on Sunday evening. Her father was not
at home, but she immediately caught a
horse and was soon off in search of him.
She found him at a neighbor’s ami told him
to hurry home and gel bis gun, and come
here and help drive back the enemy. She
then returned home, got down her father’s
rifle, moulded his lend all into bullets, took
the gun, powder and bullets and bid them
under the house, and again got on the
horse and rode to several houses and
spread tho alarm, returning home in time
to give the old man his gun and ammuni
tion. and started him, with a crowd of ten
men whom she had collected, for the scene
of action. All of this she did in less than
two hours.
Self before Country.—It is reported
that an army supply contractor of this
State says, “he will be d—d if he wants
to see or hear of any peace with the cursed
scoundrels for ten years.” A man who
makes $10,000 a month out of tho war-would
have a nice thing, if it could last ten years
—$'120,000 a year, and one million two
hundred thousand in ten years. It is es
timated that over a hundred and fifty thou
sand Republican politicians are directly
•ud indirectly interested iu the war con
tracts. They will fighthard against peace.
N. Y. Day Book, oth.
No woman can be a lady who can wound
or mortify another. No matter how beau
tiful, how refined, how cultivated she may
be, she is in reality coarse, and the innate
vulgarity of her nature manifests itself
heie. Uniformly kind, courteous and po-
lifo treatment ot all persons is one mark
of a true woman.
! Ei-Got. Morehead.
This distinguished gentleman is corn
ing sqnarelv up to the qnestion, and will
be able to exercise an immense influence
over the people of Kentucky. He made
a lengthy speech to a very large crowd
in Lonisville on the night of the 15th,
which we find reported in fnll anil publish
ed in the Courier. He grasps the issues em
braced in the great crisis in which the
country is engaged. He handles Holt,
the Kentucky Secretary, as a lion would
a pet lamb—exposes with much ability the
unconstitutional unsurpatiotis of Lincoln’s
administration, aud concludes as follows ;
My friends, the qnestion is not Union or
disunion. If that was tbe question, all my
heart, every sympathy, every emotion of
my nature, would rise up at once in favor
of the Union. It is not the question. The
question is, in the present state of the case,
are you going to conquer, snbjngatec, and
biingtlieni back by whipping them into this
Union, and make them partners with haugh
ty masters in an unwilling Union. [Voic-
es’ “No, never!”] Let me tell you in
the language of Senator Douglas before
bis lodianopolis speech, “War is disunion,
war is a final and eternal separation ; and
tbe man who is for prosecuting the war,
though he may have Union in his heart,
a disuniouist.” [Applause.J
When I was in Congress declaiming
against the passage of the VVihnot proviso,
said to the abolitionists of tbe North, when
they spoke of disunion and ridiculed the
idea. “How dare you talk that way when
you are doing more than all other men to
bring ns to tbo veiy verge of that dread
ful calamity. You are the real disunion-
ists.” Y es, my friends, they who are for
prosecuting this war are the real disunion-
ists. They arc for making a final and ever
lasting separation between the North and
the South ; and for making a wide gulf be
tween the two sections which can never be
bridged hereafter.
If tlie North is spending more than a
million of dollars a day to carry on this
war, how has it affected ns? All business
and every branch of industry is prostrated.
You have no other trade than with the
South. You make your steam engines here,
and they are carried South. Y~ou do not sell
one of them to the North. The South is
the market for the mules that are raised in
Kentucky, and trom hence all our pork and
breadstuffs go. Are .you for subjugating
your customers, to say nothing of your
brethren, in the South ? When they have
overrun the South—when they have deso
lated the land—bnt not conquered its peo
ple—no, they cau never do that—TcheersJ
—tlieu I suppose, iu the opinion of Mr.
Holt. Mr. Lincoln will be “a greater man
than the Father of liis Country.” [Cheers
and applause. |
I believe it is the true policy of the
country to withdraw all troops from South
ern soil. I would not give one dollar, if I
were in Congress,* to prosecute this war.
[Applause.] I would not give one man to
go into the South to tread down their
rights, and what they conceive to be
their liberty, and to crush out tbe proud
spirit of as nobio a race of people as live
upon the face of tbe earth. [Cheers.] If
I could bring this Union back to what it
was—I do not profess to have more brave
ry than is common to all Kentuckians,
perhaps I have not the average amount of
it, but I would willingly lay down my life
and let my head roll from my shoulders on
this platform, to have Union, as our fath
ers made it, with the fraternal feeling
then existing. [Applause.] That is not
the question, however. The qnestion is
one of coercion or subjugation. The ques
tion is one of subduing the people ot tbe
South—the question is one of trampling
on tbe rights and privileges of freemen, of
overrunning the country, devastating the
land, and bringing on a happy and prospe
rous people all tbe horrors of civil war, and
in the end, to “proclaim liberty to the cap
tive,” in the laugnage of Mr. Seward and
according to tlie theory which he drew
from John Quincy Adam 3, to make a
Black Republic of the South. I do not
want that country conquered and ruined,
aud to be made the subject of a cruel despo
tism. [Applause.) Let us say to the
people of the North, poising ourselves
upon tbe. broad principles of neutrality,
“ you are mistaken ; this war was brougnt
on by Mr. Lincoln himself; it was not pre
cipitated by South Carolina. There is,
at least, a matter of doubt abont it. See if
this matter cannot be settled in a reason
able way. Kentucky stands in tire posi
tion of a mediator now, but if you are de
termined to rain and subjugate the South,
in the language of the platform upon which
I stand, Kentucky ought to unsbeath the
sword and throw away the scabbard.’’
[Continued and enthusiastic applause.]
A Pipe for Lincolnites to Smoke.—
The Concordia Rifles, who arrived here
yesterday are commanded by Capt. Zeb
York, a man able to buy the Washington
administration. Capt. York and Mr. Hoo
ver, of Concordia, raised the company at
their own expense. They pay their men
$15 a month, give $20 a month to the sup
port of each man’s wife in necessitous cir
cumstances, and $5 to each soldier’s child.
If any individual or corpration can beat
this, we want to kuow it.—N. O. Delta.
A man may possess untold riches, and
yet he is no less a depeudeut being—de
pendent in health upon his fellow-man for
aid in protecting his civil rights, his life
and his property—in sickness dependent
for care and skill in warding off the fear
ful assaults of disease— and, in death, de
pendent upon his fellow-man to be borne
to his last resting place. Be generous,
then to thy brother-man, for sooner or la
ter he will be called to render you service
such as gold cannot purchase.
Beautiful IoEA.-In the mountains of Ty
rol it is the custom of the women and chil
dren to come out when it is bedtime and
sing their national song until they hear
their husbands, fathers and brothers an
swer them from the hills on their return
home On the*shores of tbe Adriatic such
a custome prevails. There the wives of
the fishermen come down abont sunset and
sing a melody. After singing the first
stanza, they listen awhile for an answer
ing melody from off tbe water, and contin
ue to sing and listen till the well-known
voice cornea borne on the waters, telling
that die loved one is almost borne. How
sweet to tbe weary fisherman, as the shad
ow* gut*’"?- around him, most be tbe songs
of tbe loved ones at home that sing to
cheer him; * nd how they must strei
end tighten the links that bind tc
those humble dwelleisby the sea !