Newspaper Page Text
Volume LIU
MILLEDGEVILLE, GEORGIA, TUESDAY, APRIL 16, 1872.
Number. 14.
THE
^outhcvu §UmiU*.
BY
R/A. HAEBISON, & OEMS.
Terms, $2.00 Per Annum in Advance
vCitn Qiccctorn.
CITY GOVERNMENT.
Mayor—Samuel Walker.
Hoard ol AlJeruten—F B Mapp, E Trice,
T A Caraker, Jacob Caraker, J H McComb,
Henry Temple.
Clerk and Treasurer—Peter Fair.
Marshal—I 15 Fair. Policeman—T Tuttle.
Deputy Marshal and Street Overseer—Peter
Ferrell.
Sexton—F Bceland.
City Surveyor—0 T Bayne.
City Auctioneer—S J Kidd.
Fin ine© Committee—T A Caraker, Temples.
Mapp.
Street Committee—J Caraker, Trice, Me-
('on'.!)
Laud Committee—MeComb, J Caraker,
Trice. .
Cemetery Committee—Tempies, Mapp, T A
Caraker.
Hoard meets 1st and 3d Wednesday nights
in each month.
COUNTY OFFICERS,
judge M R Bell, Ordinary, office in Masonic
llall." .
PL Fair, Clerk Sup’r Court, office in Ma*
sonic Hall.
OhaJiah Arnold, Sheriff, office in the Mason
ic Hall.
0 P Bonner, Deputy Sheriff, lives in the
country.
Josias Marshall, Rec’r Tax Returns—at
Post Office.
L N Callaway, Tax Collector, office at his
H Temples, County Treasury,office at his
store.
Isaac Cushing, Coroner, re£ on Wilksonst,
John Gentry, Constable, res on Wayne st,
lcar the Factory.
MASONIC
Benevolent Lodge, No. 3, F A M, meets
lirst and second Saturday nights of each month
at Masonic Hall- J C SHEA, W. M.
G D Case, secretary.
Temple Chapter meets the second and
fourth Saturday nights in each month.
S G WHITE, H # P„
G D Case, secretary.
MillodgeviFe Lodge of Perfection, A A S R
meets every Monday night.
SAMUEL G WHITE, S* P* G # U,
Geo D Case,Exc Grand £ec’y %
I. O. G. T.
Milledgevillc Lodge, No 115, meets in the
Seti,ate Chamber at the State House on every
Friday evening at 7 o’clock,
C P Crawford, W C T
E P Lane, secretary.
Cold Water Templars meet at the State
House. every Saturday afternoon at 3 o’clock.
CIS! RCI1 DIRECTORY.
BAPTIST CHURCH.
Service 1 st and 3d Sundays in each month,
at 11 o'clock a m and7 p m.
Sabbath .-cliool at 9.1 o’clock am. S N
Boughten.supt. Rev D E Butler, Pastor.
METHODIST CHURCH
Hours of service on Sunday: 11 o’ clock, a
m, and 7 p m.
Sunday school 3 o’clock p m—W E Frank-
land, superintendent.
Prayer meeting every Wednesday at 7
p in. * Rev A J Jarrell, Pastor.
PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
Services every Sabbath (except the second
in each month) at 11 am and 7 pm.
Sabbath school at 9 1-2 a m T T Windsor
superintendent.
Prayer meeting every Friday at 4 o’clock
p m.
Rev C W Lane, Pastor.
The Episcopal Church has no Pastor at
present,.
THE GREAT BLOOD P UR IFIER
Possessing powerful invigorating
PROPERTIES&A PLEASANT DRINK
These Bitters nro positivelyinvaluabla m
ALLSK1 TOSEASES& ERUPTIONS
They purify the Bystem, and will curt \
Remittent and Intermittent Fever*,
NERVOU-9'tHSEASES.LIVER COMPLAIN 1
Notice.
T HE undersigned respectfully informs the
citizens that they are prepared to furnish
Timber, any amount and size, at their Lum
ber Yard in Milledgeville, at low rates. Call
on our Agent, Mr. C. B. Mundy. for terms and
prices
decl9-tf
N. & A. C ARM ANNE Y.
NATURE’S
inn imuffli
and arc a preventive of Chilli and Fever,
Ail yield to their powerful efficacy. i
Are an antidote to change of Water and Diet. 4
to the wasted frame, and correct all . 4
Will save days of suffering to the sick, and 1
'CURES NEVER MELL PEOPLE
The grand Panacea for all the ills of life.
^i 1 11 aw
Tie StaatoiXX”^
ktt ;;s s ‘-4 m "
DIS3A3TIn Young or Old,
■ Single, these Bitters are 1
r equalled and have often been
means of saving life.
TRY.ONE BOTTLE.
MILLER, BISSELL &, BURRUM, Whole
•ale Agents, and Wholesale Grocers and Com
mission Merchants, 177 Broad Street, AU
GUSTA, GA.
Cotton Food.
A FERTILIZER specially for COTTON.
AY Send for circular before purchasing.
Buy it. Try it, and you will never regret
it. ‘ A. F. SKINNRR,
Agent Milledgeville.
F. W. Sims, General Agents,
janl G-3m r Savannah, G«.
Free from the Poisonous and
Health-destroying Drugs us
ed in other* Hair Prepara
tions.
No SUGAR OF LEAD—No
LITHARGE-No NITRATE
OF SILVER, and is entirely
Transparent and clear as crystal, it will not
•oil the finest fabric—perfectly SAFE, CLEAN
and EFFICIEN T—desiderainms LONG
80UGHT FOR AN D FOUND AT LAST!
It restores aud prevents the Hair from be
coming Gray, imparts a soft, glossy appear
ance, removes Da. druff, is cool and refreshing
to the head, checks the Hair from falling off,
and restores it to a great extent when prema
turely lost, prevents Headaches, cutes all hu
mors, cutaneous erupt ions, and unnatural Heat.
AS A DRESSING FOR THE HAIR IT IS
THE BEST -ARTICLE IW THE MARKET.
DR. G. SMITH, Patentee, Groton Junction,
Mass., Prepared only by PROCTOR BROTH
ERS, Gloucester, Mass. The Genuine is put
up in a pauncl bottle, made expreseiy for it
with the name of the article blown in the glass.
Ask your Druggist for Nature’s Hair restora
live, and take uo other.
For sale in Milledgeville "by L. W. HUNT
&.CO.
In Sparta, by A. II. BIRDSONG &. CO.
p July 2 ly- u Feb28 ’71 3y.
GUANO!
P URE PERUVIAN, OF DIRECT IMPOR
TATION, at GOVERNMENT PRICES
2.240 POUNDS to the Ton. Send for pam
phlets to R.G. LAY,
Ageut for Consignees in IT. S.
feb23 2m r Savannah, Ga.
From the Standard and Express.
INCIDENTS OF THE WAS.
From an Unpublished Manuscript.
BY A LADY OF BARTOW COUNTY, GA.
One cool morning in October,
1864, 1 was sitting by the fire read
ing, when 1 heard horse feet rapidly
approaching. I ran quickly to the
door, and here they came riding in
like a hurricane—a troop of Yankees
—all over the yard, snatching up
things-here and there wherever they
could find them. I had some bed
clothes out sunning. They carried
them all ofT, and quick as they hail
come they were off again. 1 vainly
hoped that it was all over, and that
no more would come, but soon after
dinner they began to pass, and such
devastation and destruction it was
heart sickening to see. They had
killed all of our hogs in the Spring
but a few sows and pigs—these had,
by our kindly care and good man
agement, grown astonishingly, and
we had hoped to have some pork for
the approaching winter; but, alas
for our hopes ! they were destined
to disappointment. This time they
must all go. They had left me but
six hens, but I had raised from them
a nice brood of young fowls. YYe
had gathered in fodder and oats and
all the corn they had left, and had
made several barrels of sorghnm,
and had Saved all the wheat we
could, and for fear they should burn
Barrett and Milner’s mill, had had
our flour barreled up and slowed
away. T felt now an inward deter
mination not to sit passively by and
see everything destroyed as they had
done in the Spring, but to make ev
ery effort in my power to preserve
what I could. So as soon as they
began to pass I went out to see if 1
could intercept Gen. Kilpatrick, and
obtain a guard while his command
was passing.
I made inquiry after inquiry as a
squad would pass, until I almost
despaired, when suddenly Charlie
came running out to tell me that the
house was full ol Yankees, that had
come up the back way. I bad ta
ken the precaution to fasten up the
house on the back side, and thought
I would watch on the front; hut I
was completely frustrated. I found
they had broken in the back doors
and windows and were destroying
everything as fast as they could.
Just at my room door I met one
of them with a large kuife, which he el was jj[ g#
had brought from the kitchen, in his
hand. I stepped up to him hastily,
and wrenched it from his hand. In
his astonishment he loosed his grasp,
I suppose, before be hardly knew
what he was doing.
“JJow,” laid I, “I will fight every
one of you if you do not get out, and
that quickly, and away as fast as
you can.” I fell completely exas
perated, and determined to drive
them out, regardless of consequen
ces. Going into the oiher room I
found a right young boy, almost,
kneeling over a large trunk that it
had been their pleasure to prv into
in their raids, and which contained
nothing but my children’s nicest
clothing, none of which they had
worn for months. There they were
all scattered around him, and in one
hand he held a number of volumes
of Abbott’s Histories that my bus-
band had given Jimmy as a reward
of merit at school, several years ago.
1 drew back my Unite and gave him
a heavy blow on his left arm, and
ordered him to get up and leave.—
Qu ick as lightning lie sprang up, and
pointing his gun directly at me swore
be would shoot me. I defied him
to do it, and tolil him, “so every
rogue out to be served.” He soon
quieted down, and they all began to
leave.
Just then I looked and saw a ne
gro riding by with my last pair of
turkeys, one hanging on each side of
his saddle. I was almost furious.—
They had only left me one hen in
the Spring, and she was setting at
the time was the reason why they
did not get her. My sister had only
given me a mate for it, ami there
they went. I went out and made
an effort with my knife. I failed.—
The blow only fell on his horse.—
Just then a soldier, looking as onii>
nary as any of the others, and riding
a small black horse, came up and
asked me what I was doing with that
knife.
Said 1, “I am defending my prop
erty, sir f nobody else will do it lor
me, or give me any assistance.”—
The next squad that passed or came
tip I enquired again for Gen. Kd-
pattick.
“Why,” said one of them, “he
has just passed. He was riding a
small black horse, and 1 saw him
talking with you just as I came up.”
Tims vanished all my hope of hav
ing a guard for he had already
passed out of sight. So 1 must siiil
endure more. Upon my expressing
my regret at missing him, one of the
men said to me, “Oh, you need not
grieve about it. Kilpatrick would
not have given you a guard. He is
just as mean as any of his men. He
winks at their meanness and encour
ages them in it.”
I found that they had stripped my
beds almost entirely. I hardly
thought they had left me covering
enough for my little ones during the
winter months that were fast ap
preaching. A neighbor came in just
as we thought they were all gone.—
While we were talking, an officer
returned with several men. He or
dered some of them to procure for
age and the others to kill some hogs.
Unfortunately for us, it was just
about the time that Ben fed them in
the evening and they had all come
up, and there they were shooting and
killing. I tried to remonstrate with
them. I said to the officer :
You have taken nearly every
thing we have ; your army destroyed
all they thought we had in the spring,
and now please let our hogs alone,
forifyou lake them we will be ob
liged to suffer.”
“Well,” said he, “you ought not
to have encouraged the war spirit.—
Where is your husband, Madam ?”
“Ir. the rebel army, sir,” I replied.
“Well,” said he, “you must lake
the consequences. By the way,
madam,” said he, “you had better
go in whije these men are shooting
at the hogs ; you might gel shot.”
I turned indignantly towards him
and said, “if I should, sir, I am at
home, which is more than you or
your men are; but which you had
better be,” and turned off. As I
came in, my neighbor said to me,
“Here is a gourd I found just now.”
Only said I, “Where I put it.”—
Then I told him how, after I had
struck the Yankee with the knife, a j
soldier stepped up to me and said,
“It is a shame, madam, for a set of j
men'to serve a woman as they are
serving you.” Said I, “Well, sir,
whose bucket is that you have on
your arm ?”
“I bought it back here from a la
dy, ma’ain,” he replied.
“I hardly think so, sir,” I replied ;
“let me see.”
I drew it from him, and on the top
of it was a towel with my name on
it.
“Whose towel is this?” I asked.
“Why,” said he “1 did not know
that was in there.”
“But,” said I, “here is my gourd ;
how came this in here !’
He stammered out something as I
drew it, but still persisted the buck-
The next day I asked
one of the servants about the buck
et. She said it was hers, aud the
Yankee had gone with it before she
missed it.
Just then a soldier came rushing
in tlie back way with a small tub in
h s h nil. Said he, “Ttke th 8 f ready passed through left tne euiire-
!y unfilled for the task. 1 had f.iled
in every effort, the day before, to
take care of, or to preserve atmhihg
from them, so 1 determined to keep
my room and let them do their worst,
which certainly could not he more
than what they had air ady dour.
1 ordered the servants to leave my
room and the whole house in contu
sion, aud not to arrai.gt? anything at
all, and had breakfast brought into
my room.
Just as the servant came in with
a plate of nice hot rolls, a Yankee
made his way in with her, an I look
ing wistfully at them said “he want
ed some bread.” 1bknew I could
have no more cooked that day, and
indeed 1 was surprised to see the
cook had served this up so nicely,
so I told him that “I had none to
give him, that that was cooked fir
my little children, and l would not
deprive them of it so long as I could
help it.” He turned off quietly and
left, greatly to my surprise.
I now noticed that no more of them
came in, although I could hear them
passing continually. After break
fast Charlie came in and said all of
our milk cows had cotne back home.
They had not guarded them suffi
ciently, and the faithful creatures
had broken away from them, and
now were at home, and Mary, the
milkwoman, was milking them.
I felt so thankful lor this, for it
seemed that a kind Providence was
watching over us still. 1 knew it we
could but retain our milk cows we
would not suffer. We had sent off
several milk cows to lower Georgia,
with our other stock and servants,
hut then an army rolled between,
and it might be months, or years ev
en, before we could, if ever, get them
igain. We had only kept the oldest
and gentlest ones, aud now they had
fully proved their fidelity. About
nine o’clock my neighbor came in to
see how we had been getting along.
“You have not been out all this
morning, have you ?” asked he.
1 told him, “no, I had concluded
to remain in my room all day, hoping
madam, and go up stairs and gel
me a feed of corn for my horse.”
I really do not think I ever fell so
indignant in my life. ] drew back
scornfully, giving h ; m a withering
look. ‘Indeed, sir. T said I, do the
women feed horses in your country ?’
I never saw any one so badly cut
down. He soon recovered himself,
and said, “My father has negroes
aud 1 have been used to them feed
ing my horse when at home.’
‘Well then,’ said 1, ‘you ought to
have staid there, for your father’s
niggers to have kept on feeding it
hut I doubt very much whether you
ever saw one before you came south
or not.” Ben was standing near
and as he walked off he said, “The
impudent dogs ! I love io hear y*oh
take them down.’
/Vs one rode off with a patch-woik
quilt, I turned to another good look
ing, youthful soldier and said, ‘Please
ride on after, and over-take that
man, and bring me back my quilt.’
He rode off hurriedly', and, greatly
j to my surprise returned soon with
it. The servants then began to come
in one by one, and tell me what they
had taken and carried oft. My lea
set of china that was a bridal gift
from a friend years ago, and that
heretofore had escaped them, served
for Kilpatrick’s table, and was car
ried off with them. And our milk cows
were all driven off’ before I knew
anything of it. Several times be
fore tliev had allenfpted to drive
them off; but they would get away
from them. Once before when they
camped near us, they had killed up
the young calves ; and now I feared
the cows were really gone, and I
knew my sick baby would suffer.—
They all left about dark, and I fell
relieved that they had gone, and
hoped to spend a quiet night, hut
which I did not.
H.ive hope though clouJs euviron now,
Aiul gladness hides her face with seoru.
Put thou the shadow from thy brow,
No night but hath its morn.
Night came on, and we had had
supper, and my little ones “their
evening prayers had said,” and were
now sleeping sweetly in their “little
beds,” all bu’. my sick baby. I had
two of the servant women to come
in, and lea ring lest the Yankees might
return, knowing that they werecamp-
ing not far oft', we had carefully fas
tened all of the doors and windows,
and were sitting around the fire w ith
only a dim light; when suddenly
we heard a noise, then the raiding
of rails, and I knew they had re
turned and were throwiivg up a pick
et fort. Oh ! how I dreaded it! for
now I knew that they would remain |
for many days, or it might be weeks,
near us, and I would be exposed t •
their taunts and insults.
It was not long before 1 heard voi
ces directly under my window, and
a subdued voice begged to he let in.
I motioned to the servants to be per
fectly quiet. They begged and
pleaded and threatened, but all in
vain, no one stirred or answered.
After finding that we did not or
would not hear them, they retired
as noiselessly as they had come,
greatly to our relief.
Pretty soon afterwards others
catne to the door and ordered it
opened. I did not say anything for
a long while, hut finally unable long
er to resist their importunities, I
asked them what they wanted. They
replied, “Meat and bread, and they
would have it.” I knew by their
manner that they were afraid to
commit an outbreak, so I let them
curse and threaten until they were
tired down; then they left of their
own accord, as I said no more to
them.
1 scarcely closed my eyes in sleep
all through that long, dreary night.
My baby had been sick all through
the long summer months, and many
a lime I had expected him to die and
have no one to bury him but serv
ants. I never saw the Yankees
daunted, or seem to have any spark
of humanity, but once. One day 1
was sitting by the little bed watch
ing Harry, who was just five years
old. He lay tossing in delirium with
a burning fever, and on rny lap lay
my baby, more dead than alive. I
heatd a noise in the hack yard, and
I knew the Yankees were coming
up through the back way.
1 heard Ben’s voice in expostula
tion. “1 tell you to keep out of
there; her children are dying now,
and you have no business in there.”
On they came. I sal perfectly still,
not caring for them then. There were
three of them. They stalked right
up io me before they hailed, and
then stopped, motionless with sur
prise. They gazed first at me, then
at the sick children ; neither one of
spoke. They turned abruptly,
ti.at “l diil not care a straw tor lliei
buggy, that it was n*»t theirs to give.”
“Oh, yes,” said one of them, “they
had bought ami brought it from Ten
nessee, and that if l would only send
some one along with them, they
would semi tne a gm>d, geutlc mul«
in the bargain.” I did not semi
though, and surt enough, in alioul
two weeks, the owner of the buggy,
not living more than fitteen miles
distant, came for it.
One of them came in to borrow an
oven. I asked him if he yvould be
sure to return it. “Oh. yes ma’am,”
-mid 1 e, “l will l>e suie to bring it
btek as soon -is I get through my
cooking.” I sect him to the cook for
it. She followed him out w.lh it,
very unwilling that lie should t ike it
off'. “I know th in,” said she, “th y
have been in ami cartied off neuly
eVerv thing. Ho came to me fir.-t,
and 1 would not lei him have it, and
now you have loatnd it to him, and
I never will see it again.”
I told her in* had promised me
faithfully he would bring it back.
“You will see,” she said; but sure
enough he did not bring it back.
The evening before, I looked out
and saw them leading off “old Crock
et,” our faithful A I buggy horse. As
many as six limes befote, they had
started off'with him, and as ma iy
ix tin**s 1 had been at my post,
us
and left the house without a word
They were awed once.
Morning came at last, and with it
Lhe trials and troubles that awaited
us- I had determined the evening
before to go to Kilpatrick^ head
quarters, and intercede tor our milk
cows, hut the excitement 1 had al
by this means not to sec any more
Yankees.”
“Well,” said he,“l have just been
to the picket fort, and had a conver
sation with the officer, and he ha
noticed that you have not been out
to-day, and he requested me to come
in and say to you, that he has sta
tioned a guard in your yar I, and
that as long as he is here on duty
you shall be protected, and to fear
nothing.”
I was amused,” continued he,
“while I was conversing with him.
A soldier came up from their head
quarters, and said to him that Ger..
Kilpatrick had sent him over for
some milk cows ; that all th**y had
taken the evening before had broken
away from them, and they had none,
and they knew not where to find
any.”
He said
the officer cursed him.
and told him with an oath to go back
to Gen. Kilpatrick and tell him he
could not get any here, and turning
to him, said he, “I went, sir, into the
army to fight it out, and no* to steal
it out, as these men are doing, and
as long as I rernaiu in this place,
they shall not drive off a cow nor do
any more stealing; that as for forage
and such things, I cannot prevent
their taking that, but that otherwise
they shall have nothing.”
I regretted that I never learned
his name; he was a Kentuckian- His
kindness came when it was most
needed, and it was the most gratu
itous piece of kindness I ever re
ceived from a Yankee soldier. He
shielded me for a time from the
taunts and insults of a low-bred set
of men, and I shall always feel
grateful to him for it.
I went out after a while, and found
a soldier standing at the back door
with a musket on his shoulder. I
drew back involuutaiily. He saw it,
and hastily said: “I am only a guard,
madam; the captain has ordered
tne to keep the men away. Do not
be alarmed or uneasy, you will not
he troubled any more by them while
I am here to protect you, and I will
keep them all straight.” So they
did not trouble anything in the house
and yard that day. If they wanted
anything they would come and ask
politely for it.
We had a little one-horse wagon
fixed up before they had ever come
in, thinking to have something to
haul our wood and do our milling in.
The first day they ever passed
through, they maliciously ( hopped
one wheel to pieces. We had man
aged to find an old buggy wheel that
fitted it, and l felt secure of having
some way to get wood for the win
ter. But Charlie came in to tell me
they were fixing up now to carry it
off, and again 1 summoned courage
to go out and prevent them. I told
them they could not have it, but they
said it was just the idea, that they
needed it very much, and that if I
would let them take it they would
leave in its place a good, strong bug
gy, that I could have. I told them
and saved him. I started out to I fie
gale, and Ben im»t me. Siys h*\
“Let them have him this time; only
this morning 1 found he had the
"landers, and he will be sure to die;
0 . .....
and if we ke^p him he will give it
to ‘Cripple,’ and we will lose him
too.” C»ockel and Cripple had serv
ed us faithfully all the summer; had
finished up the work on the farm ;
and now, (hough “my heart strings
round him clung.” yet I let him go
this lime. Thev were exp cling,
momentarily, a fight with the scouts.
They could see them half a mile up
the road, continually crossing or
standing in it. My little boys would
run in, and out to the picket fort,
and once or twice the captain sent
me word that I had belter keep them
in, as they knew not what moment
• hey ini-ftit have a skirmish. That
evening a relief was sent; another
officer was placed in command. I
could soon see a great change. The
men began to prowl around, and
things began to assume a threaten
ing aspect. 1 sent over and asked
for a guard. The messenger return
ed, unfortunately, with the answer,
“that all the men were on duly, and
there was no one to stand guard.”
This was imprudently delivered in
the hearing of some of the men, and
it went from one to another that
there was no guard, and they soon
began to tear up things. A young
soldier, seeing how things were,
came to me, and told me he feared
1 would have some trouble if I did
not have a guard. 1 told him the
message I had received. He said
all the men he knew were on duty,
but himself, and that he would go
and see the officer about it. After
awhile he returned, and told me he
would stand guard for me, which he
did faithful y, as long as they re
mained.
We had a great deal ol green to
bacco, which had just been cut down,
and was not yet cured. They had 1
destroyed all the dry, and they now
began on the green, and they all had
sore mouths from it, and were con
tinually running in and out for some
thing to cure their mouths.
On Sunday they all began to leave,
and though only here two days, it
seenjed like so many months.
On Saturday a squad of them went
up into Polk couuly, and burned the
residence of Capt. Malt. Ware, after
first robbing and then plundering it
of what they wanted and could take
away.
The Gold of Ohpir.
Despite the remonstianee of the
proprieties, the Divine declaration is
inevitable, that the last shall be first.
Ever and anon the great good comes
out of Nazareth : in the Valley ol
Shadows upspringeth the Light.
This inquisitive age even now sel
dom halls at such queer riddles as
Samson’s; but ‘reckons’or‘guesses’
that honey may be found in a lion’s
mouth.
In the Cycle of Centuries, Africa
is re appearing, in proof of what has
been will he; heralded with her
classic music of Mttnnon, guarded
by herSphynx, and commemorated
in her Pyramids. The awful ruins
of Carnac and the wonders of the
remott regions of the Nile, have for
\ears attracted and deeply impress
ed the most celebrated travelers.
The hieroglyphics of Egypt are now
bein® deciphered to read as the sub
limes! records of history. A clergy
man of New York recently resigned
a long pastorate to engross himself
in these distant and solitary researehl
cs, whose popularity was so grea-
that his parish voted him a parting
present of about $150,000. To a
sordid world such ‘saqrificea’ are m»-
tco un a dt* ; hut ‘fie dint humbled)
niuiaelf shall be exalted.’
Lately, astonishing and alluring
developments have been made in
o itlieru Africa; including, says
the New York Herald, ‘Ruins, Mon
uments, and Archtelogical Wonders
of Salomon’s time’—none other than
the famous Land of Opbir, which
furnished the gorgeous and astound
ing wealth and ornamentation ot the
Tt tuple at Jerusalem. The an
nouncement of vast gold and dia
mond fields strikes the chords for a
full chorus of the missionary hj’mn,
as to where
“Attic's sunny fountains
Roil down their golden sands.”
Excitement heightens as the mon
ey-brooding English extend their
Capt* Colonies over the Orange Riv-
»r amt T rails van L republics—from
quartz to alluvial gold fields, from
diamond beds to the Ophir mines of
King Solomon.
In the fourteenth century the Por
tuguese (whose land must yet take
its illustrious appearance by the
wheel of fortune) had opulent do
minions in Sotaln, the centre of pres
ent attraction. Their substance long
since became as a shadow ; but they
left rehearsed the tbnner Arab tra
ditions of still more remote Pliceni-
cian gio y in this clime.
Not until Prussia came to the
front in discovery as in military
prowess, were the slorie- veiified of
its grand ruins and singular wealth.
The Berlin Society sent Carl Maueh
to report on its resources aud prime-
mal structures. This is the first
step in the march of its archaeologi
cal investigation.
The location is in latitude 20deg.
14 min. South, and longitude 31 deg.
48 min. East, agieeing fully with
Don Santos, the Portuguese writer.
At Zimbaya the ruins are magnifi
cent, ami are held sacred by the na
tives, who all believe that whiles
once lived in this region, and stow
utensils ot civilization. They culti
vate rice and corn and possess ex
pensive herds.
Is this the land of Ophir ?—where
Solomon, the wisest, three thousand
years ago, obtained the gorgeous
fillings of his most renowned Tem
ple.' The Biblical time of a three
years’ voyage corroborates; also
that Phoenician ships were used,
whose Southern cruises are indis
putable. The Arabs, succeeding the
decline of Phoenicia, are known to
have continued throughout the Mid
dle Ages, a trade from the Persian
Gulf as far south as Sofala. The
Portugese four hundred years ago,
according to Carl Manch, found
there vast gold mines “worked from
time immemorial, and near them
ruins of structures which, according
to native traditions, were built by
Queen Saba. Lopez, the historian,
records that the natives pride them
selves on possessing hooks of great
antiquity, which testified to the
Ophir cruises of Solomon.”
Was not this the Queen of Sheba,
whose distinguished visit to Solos
rnon is recorded in Biblical lore?
The ruins themselves surely can
speak no deceptive story.. These
aie unmistakably Phoenician. Dr.
Petermann, of Gotha, says, that “the
fact of all of them, without excep
tion, being of hewn granite, put to
gether without mortar, testifies to a
high antiquity ; aud the drawings of
the ornatnenls sent in by Mauch,
prove that they do not originate from
the Portuguese nor from the Arabs,
but very likely from Phoenicians,
the Solomonic Ophir cruisers.”
The nature of the case substan
tiates other reasons for this impor
tant conclusion. Since the mind of
man runneth not to the contrary,
Africa has had the reputation of be
ing auriferous. \ T oyages from Sol
omon’s ports on the Red Sea, aloog
the eastern coast of Africa, were
within the means of the navigation
ot that age, in which Phoenicia ex
celled ; following the coast was the
most likely mode, and hence about
Sofala was the propable destination.
The gold and jewels of the Jewish
Temple were of the finest, and the
blazing diamonds of Cape Colony
throw all others in the shade; its
“much fine gold” could only equal
that of Ophir, while all admit that
the ivory of Africa beats all but the
Jews.—Sun.
An exchange, describing a fash
ionable parly, speaks of a gallant
who whispered to a lady and “took
her apart.* If is not a very difficult
feat to lake a lady apart these times,
but then there is very little left of her
afterwards.
A Missouri editor has his own way
of saying things. He acknowledges
that his paper for this week is prin
cipally * a local and advertising
sheet; but look out for next week’s.
It will fie one of the gayest, sharpest
and fiercest papers that ever went
forth from an American news rag
gery.’
One way of giving a man a chance
of rising in the world—-knock him
down.