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VOL. ©.
the GEORGIA CtTIZEN
jrVbtol trery Friday morning at #3.50 per annum in
, „u,„irnts at the regular chant* will be Owe Dollar
“W*rl word* or U far the irat Inrt*
r riv Cmt, for each roSreqnf-nt Insertion. All ad
, l St, rd specified uto time, will he puhl'uted until
A liberal dUoount allowed
1 Ohiiiiarv >olle o/ow tSuntt, will be di-rged at the
*•*
!k l rate*, when inserted.
r >.r, iii.ii ■ mil —•*’ -***• *1 — m Drurf*ta,
y • -ners. Merchant*. and other*, who may wish to make
..InofUnj and *roea. bv ExecutoeA Admlnlrtra
, S .! Ouaniiana, are required by law to beadeeitlaed in a
1 !>’■ raaKte. forty dave previous to the day of sale.
f ‘ m ud be held on the flret Tuesday in the mor.th.
„ tb* hour* of ten In the forenoon ar;<| three In the af
t’ -a jot, at the Court bona* la the county in which the prop
* bale* of Persona I Property mart be advertised in Uke
C V*rtr< - (o tvi ror* and Creditor* of an Estate mart be
r wiretbS'ap>'iftlon will be made to the Ordinary for
to eU Land and Nxjfroes, must be published weekly for
‘Viialiorui for Letter* of Administration, thirty day*; for
p,frem A ‘.ministration, monthly, ss month*; for
Dunn* r, from Ouanlianshlp. weekly, forty day*
till If* for FoneMac of Mori ***■*, montnir. f.nr
r ‘nrtT f resubliabina lnrt paper*, for the full space of three
- or compel liny titles from executor* or administrator*
snerea'bonl has been given by the deceased,the full space of
i>ruf oMional and Busin*** Cards will be Inserted un
<tr this head, at the folio win* rate*, ell:
Fir Fire lines, per annum, $ 8 00
do Seven Hue*, do .8 00
do Tec lines, do 10 00
advertisement of this class will be admitted, unless paid
for “r. fclvai.ee, nor for a leas term than twelve months. Ad
vertisement* of over ten lines will be charred pro rata. Ad
vertisements not paid for ia advance will be charged at the
regular rate*.
nuu I mess m
Samuel H. Washington,
ATTORNEY AT 1.1 \V,
Macon, On.
W n.L Practice In all the Counties of the MACON CIR
CUIT. and in the Counties of Washington, Wilkinson and
UvflHs
Office next to Concert Hall, over Payne’s Drug Store.
LANIER & ANDERSON,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
Macon, G-a.,
TIRACTICE in the counties of the Macon Circuit, and in
J the ‘’ unties of Sumter. Monr.n! and Jones; also in the
federal Court* at Savannah. .
LAXTER A ANDERSON have also recently become the
Agents of the following In otrance Companies :
THE AUGUSTA INSURANCE AND RANKIXO COM
PANY of which W. M. D'AntUnac is President, and C. E.
** A ‘l the^ALA ft MA FIRE AND MARINE nFTTR
AXCECOMPANY, Montgomery, of which T. H. Watte is
1 resident, and A. Williams la Secretary.
Fire risks and risks on slaves taken at usual rates.
aPr 33—tt
L. N. WHITTLE,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
MACON, GA.
OPRICE next to Concert Hail, over Payne’s Dm* Store.
anlO—ly
LOCHRANE & LAMAR,
Attorneys a/t Law,
MACON, Or A.
Office by the Mechanic*! Bank.
OFFICE IIOU’KS ttom 8 to it A. M., S tofl P. M. and also
fmm 7 to 10 F. M.
Will practice in all the Conntlesof the Macon Circuit anddn
the Countlesof Jones, Monroe and Columbia, and in the Su
preme Court.
0. A. LOCHRANE. JOHN LAMAR.
SPEER & HUNTER,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
Alooon, Gra.,
Office on Triangalar Block, Coracr of Cherry
Street and Cotton Arenne.
YITE have associated as partners In the practice es law in
ST the counties ol the Macon and adjoining Circuits, and
tlsewhere tn the State by special e ntrort—also, will attend
te Federal Courts at Savannah and Marietta. HpEER>
fcbl*-ly SAMUEL HUNTER.
J. R. GRIFFIN. I C. M. DUNSON
GRIFFIN & DUNSQN,
Attorneys at Law,
MA CON, GrA.
neferencos :
Gtr J E. Brown. Milledgeville; Hon. Washington Poe,
K* a, (is ; Hon. Wm.L. Yancey. Montgomery. Au.; Hon
T. R. R. Cobb, Athens, Ga.; Hon. C. J. McDonald, Mariet
ta oa.
OFFH k!—Over istrohecLer A Ca‘ Draw Store.
LEONARD TANARUS, DOYAL,
Attorney at Law,
G-riffln, Gn..
Office on Hill Street, between Woodruff’s Carriage Re
pository and Beuham's Furniture Store.
Oct, it—lv Reference. L. T. DOTAL.
JAMES T. ELLIOTT,
Attorney & Counsellor at Law,
CA MDEN, A RKA NS AS,
Will attend to all Business entrusted to him in South Ar
tans
dec. It, 1388—ly
THE LIVER
INVIGORATOR!
PREPARED BY DR. SANFORD,
COMPOUNDED ENTIRELY FROM GUMS,
ofthe best Purgative and Liver Medicine*now before
tiie public, that acts as a Cathartic, easier, mi’.der. and
■ore effectual than any other medicine known. It is not on
<T(.V hartic, but a liver remedy, acting first on the Liver
to eject its morbid matter, then on the Stomach and bowels to
tarn-off that natter thus accomplishing two purposes effec
tnntv. without any nr the painful feelings experienced in the
neratiows of most c aiiartica. It strengthens the system at
tie same Umetb-.t it purges it; and when taken dai.y In mod
erate doses, wiil strengthen and build It up with unusual rap-
Kity.
, Tbs LITER Is one ofthe • ! principal regulators of the
bnttan body; and when it eg performs Its functions well,
irers of the system are 3 fully developed. Thestom
si . ‘-t almost entirely depen- * ‘dent on the healthy action
c ‘ eLlrer f.,r the proper A jperfoimuneeofltsfunctions:
•’■mite stomach isatfiuilt w the bowels are at fault, and
tae Whole system suffers In C — loon sentience of one organ—
Ce Li V KK—having ceased Ito do Its duty. Forthedis-
J**f that organ.one ofl , the proprietors has made it
-is tody, in a practice of more than twenty yean, to
JM some remedy where- I with tocounteractthe many
I'tage-.cntito which It U M liable.
T"prove that this remedy ■* Its at last found, any person
“•tool with LIVER gat COMPLAINT, in any ..fits
t nas, has but to try abot- UW tie, and conviction 1* certain.
These Gums remove all morbid or tad matter from
r fS'dtm, supplying In IE their place a healthy flow of
rtbs stom- ,ach, causing food to <Ege*t
PURIFYING THE m iBLOOD, giving to D e and
sexth to the whole machln- ery, removing the cause of
;■*— efteting a rad- icalcure.
ATTACKS are cured, AND, WHAT IS
PREVENTED by the occasional use of the
IJVER IXVIOORATOK. Z
dose after rating is -suffldent to relieve the stom
*7~ “'l prevent the tood F* from rising and souring.
MA ft E°* *** taken be fore retiring, prevents NIOHT
one dote taken at *■* night, loosena the bowels
•?£* “and cure* COS- ‘TIVKNESS.
51^' taken after each aw meal wUI cure DYSPEP
dose oftwo tea- spoonfuls will always ra-
Pie taken fur fe M male obstructions removes
, 3!!** “fp l * disease, saand
Ik/d' ne^°lße JJ ly relieve!CHOLlC, while
IP * \i‘ **?**•* i* a sure cure for CHOIr
_ venUtlve of CHOLERA.
l -*r’' : "Y one bo-tie Is ‘f’ needed to throw out ofthe
, - cins after a long slckneee.
fc 4 T7'-e bottle taken for JAUNDICE remove* all
iir.f** !>runn turalcoi to r from the skin.
r!nfv u ' J * uien a short i time before eating gives vtg-
food digest well.
Ultra i,. o *'*® repeated 22 cures CHRONIC DIAR-
BoiSflL tal * worst forma. “ while SUMMER and
n—“J* complaints yield to almost to the first dose.
1-1 ; r twr > d.es cures ** attacks caused bv WORMS
s j Unonr r er. safer, or ap-eecier remedy
ties cures j ‘L'ROPST, by exciticf the
P'rssni, In re commending this medicine
mST*"¥ ll * fr VE VKBANDAOUE.CHILL
b ‘ tK ; "-aIITEVERbj of a HILLIOUS TYPE.-
Im curtalLty. __ and thousands are willing to
10 ;t * “ondeifui vfr ! * tuea.
*onv*n lu U fa, I'r* 1 * S,tl “* ttM ‘ ir annlroou * ■*•*
,n mouth with the luttgora
- llow b '** together.
LIVER INVIGORATOR
MEDICAL DISCOVERT. and is dally
hm?too great to bt.leve. It cures as if by
’t* onenTJi . ** *** hewefif. and seldom more
pia.t> >t 1 required lo cure any kind of LIV ER Com
-Huntu,!. m .ir’. wc fM Javvdict or DyKp.pna to a common
kit, ac **-“ t which are the result of* DISEASED LIV
p RICE OSE DOLLAR PER BOTTLE.
SAN FORD k CO_ I roprietora,
_ MS Broadway, New York.
vv lioloaalo Agents:
Uu-i'uSew Yurt ; T. w Ibyott k S<.n*. Philadel
lahi D iElftl*. o *- Boston : M. H. Hay ACo - Portland;
Ftr.r.ew,-w f Cindnaati; Gaylord k Hammord, Cleveland
Cfcege H i L * T '\C>dcago ■ o. J. Wood k Cos.. St. Louis;
A^ret^ K k i 7 *Tv F ltukwj * fa 1 . 8. Hance. Baltimore.—
b T ah Druggist*. tJoid Wholesale and Retail by
KVi*., UIUB, HUNT k CO.
■* Macon, Ga.
DOCTOR
J. Dickson Smith,
Practicing Physician,
Macon, Ga.,
IV ILL attend promptly to all Professional call* mstle on
* v him by day or Bight, either at his < slice or lertdenc*.
OKFICK—Over Menard A Burghatd’s Jewelry Sure, on
Chnw Mrret.
Kfc.SiOE.VE—At Mr. J. B. P. *ss\ jan. 21—ts
DR. A. PIERCE,
HOMCEOPATH
Office In
Medicine Cases, and Books on Do nestle Practice for sale.
Macon, July 8.1888. ly
M. R. FREEMAN, M. D.~
HAVING returned to Macon, t fft-rs his Professional eervl
ces to its citizens, and the surrounding country, and is
prepared to treat their various disease* with innocent ve e
table remedies, and hopes that iu consideration of the tact
that he gives no poise, n, draws no 1 lood, and never destroys
the constitutions of his patients he will be liberally patronized
by the afflict -d.
tW~ Particular sttentlon will be given to Plantation, and
Other conn try practice.
ISC Office at the Drug Store of Dr. M. S. Thomson, to
whom he refers. jan. 7—ly
DR. €. J. ROOSEVELT,
IIOSKKPATIIIC PHYSICIAN,
Office and Residence, Corner
W alnut and 3rd Streets, Macon, Ga.
jan.!!—ly
MEDICAL NOTICE.
XDr. J. 3Li. Large,
ANNOUNCES tothe public that he has fitted up Rooms,
that are airy and convenient, to accommodate Surgical
and Chronic Oases of all kinds—white and black—(the cure
of RUPTURE and relief of CANCER not excluded )
Blacks, laboring under chronic affections, will be bought.
Price according to their condition.
Parlies wishing to consult me, can Jo so by letter, with the
ease fuliy described, and 1 can determine the case prior to
■ending the patient, and save expo:.-- ■ ot sending and return
ing—as circumstances render some eae-s incurable. I have
had considerable Hospital experience, which gives advantage
in the care and relief of Chronic cases. Office and Residence
comer of South Broad and Abercom streets. Savannah, Ga.
luly 9—ts
Dr. Samuel Tarver,
CiONTINUES the practice of Medicine, h'nreery and
/ Obstetrics at Parkers’ Station. \o. lljj on tt e Central
Rail Rrwd. Jefferson County,Ga. His Post Office address
> pier’s Turn Out Jefferson Countv. p:irtirular attention paid
to the treatment ofC’bronic Diseases. Persons living at a dis
tanre. b* ritinra statement of their eases can have prescrip
tions and Medicine sent to them by Mail. Charges moderate,
nov. 13,1868.—1y*
DH. H. A. METTAUER,
HA\ ING spent a portion of three successive years in
this city, during which time he has limited his
practice almost exclusively to Surgery, now respectfully
offers bit services to the citixens of Macon and surround
ing country, in all the branches of his profession. Office
on the South East Corner of 3d and Cherry streets, over
Mr. Asher Ayres’ new Grocery Store.
Sep‘i7—tf
J. C. I'DWAHDS,
Real Estate Broker,
111 ILL give rroirj f snd personal attention to Buying
if and selling Lands ar.d dt> pr.p*rry, hiamlning 1 Hies,
An ertmiiiirg the value of Real Estate, Renting Property,
and all bus neas t ertaining to a general Peal Etta’.? Am-ncy.
Ornrt in 2d story up stain, in Dr. Strchecker's building,
dec. 10—ts
Exchange on
NEW YORK FOR SALE AT THE
MANUFACTURER’S BANK.
mar 29—ts
PATTEN & MILLER,
(Late PATTEN, H! Tin'S Ase.)
Commission Merchants,
SIYAWAH, GEORGIA.
O. PATTEN. A. J. MILLER.
July 11S58. —ly
JONATHAN COLLINS,
Late Patten, Collins &i Cos.
Will continue the
Commission Business
AT the Fireproof Building occupied bv tbcm in Macon,
in connection with hi* son, W. A. COLLINS, and re
spectfully solicits the busineiw of the Patrons of the late firm,
and of Planters generally, pledging thel- undivided attention
to all husineiwconfidedTto their care. Advances m.ule on Cot
ton and other produce In store, and orders carefully fi led.
* J. COLLINS A SON,
Macon, July Ist. 1883 —IT
JAtim'dlmui.
C'liriNf Rc*toriii3 llio Ruler’*
Daughter to I.ifo.
BY MISS CAROLINE MAY.
The prophets of the old-time dispensation
Restored the dead by means of earnest
prayer;
But Christ, who brought to earth salvation,
Spake her a word, and life was instant
there.
Wherefore, full many a strong and sad peti
tion
Was urged on him by throngs who gath
ered near,
To tell their own case to the great’Physician,
Or plead for those than their own life more
dear.
Amidst the crowd Jarius, the ruler, hast
ened,
And seeing Christ, fell down before his
feet;
Humbly he fell, by sorrow deeply chastened,
Yet bold through faith the Saviour to en
treat.
“At death's dark door my little daughter
lietb,
Oh thou, whose touch alone can healing
give,
I prav thee come, for even now she dieth :
Lay hut thy hands on her, and she shall
’ live.”
YVhile yet he spake there came one from the
citv:
“ Thy daughter’s dead—thy prayer is now
too late! ” .
But Jesus heard, and turning, said, with pjty,
“ Be not afraid—only believe, and wait.
He went and hushed the tumult unavailing:
“ YVhv make ye this ado,” he said, “and
weep !
Refrain thine eyes from tears, tliy voice from
wailing:
The maiden is not dead, hut fallen asleep.
Then all the God in majesty appearing,
He put out those who scorned what he had
said, .
And led the parents, trembling, hoping, fear-
Into the room where lay the sleeping dead.
And gently by the hand he took the maiden,
Her rigid, form felt his reviving touch ,
And at his word, with life and strength full
laden,
“ Dams -1. arise! ” she sprang from off her
couch.
I He who could bid the spirit-world obey him,
Called hack her soul from joys but just
begun;
And Death, who knew that Christ alone
could slay him,
Fled from the victim he had t carcelv won.
Christ was the Life, and he the Resurrection:
The keys of heaven and hetl were in his
band,
Pain lost it* power, disease its di re infection,
And Death gave up the dead at his com
mand.
MACOW. GA. HOU3.3Ft.C3BC 4,1839.
For the Georgia Citizen.
UNCLE BEN HEARS THAI
BERG.
BY BILLY FIELDS.
I was greatly ainuied, not long since,
hearing Uncle Ben describe his visit to
the performance of Thalberg. Uncle
Ben was seated beneath a large China
tree, and around him were gathered the
growing chivalry of Jones. Someone
asked Uncle Ben if he heard Thalberg
whilst, he w as in Macon, he having been
down in that city on the night of the
great pianist’s performance.
“ Certingly I hearn Tolbug ; certingly
I hearn him,” said our old hero, as he
reached around the tree lor a flask that
was in reach.
“ llow did you like the performance?”
asked someone;
“ Wall, boys, durn yer little inquisi
tive skins!” said he; “jess w r ait and I’ll
tell yer all about it.” So saying, he
took a deep draught from the aforesaid
flask. “ Yer see,” continued he, “ I and
Johnny were down in Macon day before
yesterday, and arter supper was con
cluded, Johnny comes up to me, and sez
he—
“ ‘ Uncle Ben !*
“ ‘ Whal ?’ sez I.
“ ‘ Less Licker.’
“ Wall, we went down in that little
cellar under the Lanier House, and tuk
a drink ; and arter we lickered, Johnny
sez—
“ ‘ Uncle B^n!’
“Sez I, ‘What?’
“ 1 Less go and hear Tolbug!’ sez he.
“Sez I, ‘Well,’ and we started off;
but I thought we would have to set a
long timej so, sez I—
“ ‘Johnny!’
“‘What?’ sez he.
“ ‘ Less go back and licker agin,’ sez I.
“Johnny agreed, for you know John
ny aint the boy to be mealy-mouthed
about a drink. Now thur’s Billy Fields
wont drink a drop, or leastways says he
don’t, when ha writes ’bout us boys’
frolics; but durn of I don’t know more
about that boy than most of people, and
I’m gwine to write some too before long;
and durn his long eared skin! I'll pay
him back for blabbin’ out ’bout that lit
tle frolic with old Betsy—”
“Stop, Uncle Ben!” said I; “You
forget you were telling us about Thal
berg.”
“ He hadn’t got no further than him
and Stubbs’ lickerin’, and that’s ’bout as
fur as they generally wants to git,” said
a disciple of the piney woods.
“ Wall,” said Uncle Ben, “arter I and
Johnny had tuk our drinks, we started
off agin, but before wc got to the Hall,
wc saw a sign of the * Bar,’ and sez I—
“ * Johnny !’
“‘What?’ sez he.
“ ‘ Less go in here and licker.’
“‘Well,’ sez Johnny, ‘ less taste all
round.’
“ Wall, we tuk our drinks and started
for the music-place, where Johnny turns
round, and sez ho—
“ ‘ Uncle Ben!’
“‘What?’ sezL
“ Sez Johnny, ‘ The man that haint got
no music in his soul is fit for treats,
strait-jackets and spiles.’ With that 1
know’d it was a gone case with Johnny.
“Wall, arter we got down thar we
got a seat; ar.d who should 1 see but
Charley Leake settin’ right by me. The
lights seemed to dance ’bout mightely,
but I thought it war all owin’ to the
gas—”
“Probable,” said Piney Woods.
“ 1 looked around, and by Josernichis
adeck! es I didn’t see enough pretty
women to make a man happy for six or
seven lives and two or three hereafters
I seed one pretty leetle cretur jess afore
me sorter bow like, so up I jumps and
makes a perlite bow.
“ ‘ Set down, Uncle Ben !’ sez Char
ley. ‘ What in the world is yer doin’?
Didn’t yer see it?’ sez I.
“‘No,’ sez he. ‘Set down; ye’re
drunk, and will disgrace yerself.’
“ I was jest about to choke Charley
for his imperdence, w hen they commenced
er ’plaudin’ sorter like they do at a po
litical speakin, when up pops a nice look
in’ feller and sets down at a pianner, and
then he commenced, sorter slow at fust,
but he soon got faster, and bimeby he
got terrible fast; and Jerusalem and the
prophets and Jeremiah ! the house seem
ed like it war rollin’ over, the light.-
danced all about, the crowd seemed to
commence er whirlin .
“Sez 1, ‘Johnny!’
“‘What?’ stzhe.
“ ‘ Less leave; this music’s er makin’
me sick,’ sez I.
“ ‘ Well,’ sez Johnny, ‘ somethin’s th.
matter with me too, but I don’t know
whether it ar the music or lickerin’ so
much.’ •
“ ‘ Stop, I’ll go wittl >' ou t’ Char *
ley, as he tuk 1 and Johnny by the arm
as we walked out.
“ ‘ Warn’t that splendid ?’ stz Charley.
“‘Stop!’ sez Johnny, as he grabbed
hold of a lamp-post; ‘ the ’fluence aint
left me yet.’
“ ‘ And it ’fects me powerfully,’ sez I,
as I bergin to feel the sensation coinin’
back agin. I made a grab at Johnny’s
iamp-poet, but it seemed as if the durn
thing jumped back, and kerflummux
down 1 come ’ginst the ground.
“ ‘ Ye’re both drunken fools!’ said
Charley.
“ But I know’d better. I is old
enough to know when lam drunk. Ar
ter a while I and Johnny got up and got
hold of Charley’s arm, and started for
the hotel; but ever once and aw hile the
’fluence of that music would come back,
and then Johnny and me would git sick,
and Charley lie would cuss. Arter a
while we got in the bed, but the sensa
tion of that music kep coinin’ back, and
then the old bed would turn round and
bob up and down. It was a mighty bad
kind of feelin’. I think 1 and Johnny
must have got some of that music in our
souls that night, certain. Charley says
till yet we were both drunk, and that he
never felt any of the ’fluence. But John
ny says it’s because-he haint got none of
the love for the fine arts like me and
him. That’s so, 1 reckon.”
To-day and To-morrow.
BY GERALD MASSEY.
High hopes, that burned like stars sublime,
Go down the heavens of Freedom ;
And true hearts perish in the time
We bitterliest need them !
But never sit we down, and say
There’s nothing left but sorrow ;
We walk the wilderness to-day,
The promised land to-morrow.
Our birds of song are silent now.
There are no flowers blooming!
Yet life beats in the frozen bough,
And Freedom's spring is coming !
And Freedom's tide comes up alway,
Though we may stand in sorrow;
And our good barque aground to-day,
Shall float again to-morrow.
Through all the long, dark nights of years,
The people's cry aseendetli,
And earth, is wet with blood and tears ;
But our meek sufferance endetli!
The few shall not forever sway
The many moil in sorrow ;
The powers of Earth are stwng to-day,
But Heaven shall rule to-morrow.
Though hearts brood o’er the past, our eyes
With smiling features glisten !
For, lo! our day bursts up the skies ;
Lean out your souls and listen !
The world rolls Freedom’s radiant way
And ripens with her sorrow;
Keep heart! who hear the cross to-day,
Shall wear the crown to-morrow.
•
Oh ! Youth ! flame earnest, still aspire,
With energies immortal!
To many a heaven of desire,
Our yearning opes a portal!
And though age wearies hv the way,
And hearts break in the'furrow,
We’ll sow the golden grain to-day,—
And harvest comes to-morrow.
Build up heroic lives, and all
Be like a shcathen sabre,
Ready to flash out at God's call,
Oh chivalry of labor!
Triumph and’ toil are twins ; and aye,
Joy suns the cloud of sorrow;
And ’tis the martyrdom to-day,
Brings victory to-morrow.
From the London Journal.
A KISS.
“ Humid seal <sf soft affection,
Tend’rest pledge of future bliss,
Dearest tie of young connection,
Love’s first snow-drop—virgin kiss!’’
When Wesley was once reproached
for the application of some popular tune
to a sacred hymn, he replied, that surely
they would not have him leave all the
good music to the evil one ! In the spirit
of this great man it might be yecom
mended that, if there be a giddy vagrant
abroad, corrupted in his time by evil
communication, with some touch of vir
tue in his nature, and once the friend
and companion of all the gentle deities
that strewed the path of matrimony with
flowers, it should be attempted to recall
him to the circle of his ancient friends.
We know not but that, by the force of
example and timely admonitions, the
conversation of that gay prodigal—the
Kiss—may be compassed; and if his im
mediate recantation be a blessing not to
be expected, at least we are not pre
cluded from venturing to put him upon
reflection, and awaken him to a useful
sense of his danger, by briefly calling to
his mind the leading events of his past
career.
Kissing was an act of religion in au
cient Rome. The nearest friend of a dy
ing person performed the right of re
ceiving his soul by a kiss, supposing that
it escaped through his lips at the mo
ment of expiration. Spencer, in his
“ Pastoral Elegy on the death of Sir
Philip Sidney,” mentions it as a circum
stance which renders the loss of his
illustrious friend more to be lamented,
hat—
“ None was nigh his eyelids up to close,
And kiss his lips.”
A little after he introduces the lady,
“ the dearest love” of the deceased, weep
ing over him:
“ She with sweet kisses sucked the wasting
breath
Out of his lips, like lilies pale and soft.
The sacredness of the kiss was invio
able amongst the Romans for a long
time. At length it was degraded into a
current form of salutation. Pliny as
cribes the introduction of the custom to
the degeneracy of the Roman ladies,
who, in violation of the hereditary deli
caoy of the females of Rome, descended
to the indulgence of wine. Kissing was
resorted to by those gentle “go.;d easy”
husbands, (who knew better than to risk
the tuinblirg of the house about their
heads,) as the most effectual and courte
ous process to ascertain the quantity of
their wives’ stolen libations; and Cato,
the Elder, recommends the plan to the
serious attention of all careful heads of
families. The kiss was, in process of
time, diffused generally as a form of sal
utation in Rome, where men testified
their regard and the warmth of their
welcome for each other, chit fly by the
number of their kisses.
It was allowed sometimes, in the case
of an inferior to one above him, to kiss
the right hand—a custom which is re
markably recognized to this day amongst
the Spaniards to their betters. Among
the early Christians, the kiss of peace
was a sacred ceremony, observed upon
their most solemn occasions. It was
called signaculum orationis— the seal ol
prayer, and was a symbol of that mutu
al forgiveness and reconciliation which
the Church required, as an essential con
dition, before any one was admitted to
the sacraments. The Roman civilians
at length took the kiss under their pro
tection. Their code defined, with exqui
site accuracy, the naiure, limits, inci
dents, etc., of the Right of Kissing, al
though we do not find that this sort of
property holds a place among the incor
porated hereditaments of our own laws.
The kiss had all the virtue of a bond,
granted as a seal to the ceremony of be
trothing ; and if (he husband elect broke
the engagement, repenting of what he
had done, lie surrendered a moiety of the
presents received in the ceremony of
betrothing, in consequence of the vio
lence done to the modesty of the lady by
a kiss.
In much later times the kiss was es
teemed to be a ceremony of particular
obligation, as could be shown in a thou
sand instances. The gentle Julia in the
“Two Gentlemen of Verona,” after ex
changing a ring with her lover, completes
the contract with a kiss—
“And seal the bargain with a holy kiss.’’
The same lady seems to entertain a high
estimation of the efficacy of a kiss; for in
the throes of hpr remorse, a little before,
for having torn into fragments the love
letter of Proteus, she hits upon the fol
lowing expedient:—
“I’ll kiss each separate paper for amends.”
Not satisfied, however, with this act of
compunction, and opining that a kiss is
the “ govereignest thing on earth for an
inward bruise,” she thus apostrophizes
her absent lover:
“ My bosom, as a bed,
Shall lodge thee till thy wound be thorough
ly lical’d,
And thus I search it with, a sovereign kiss.”
N >r ought we to be surprised, at the
veneration which has been universally
allowed to the ceremony of kissing, when
we remember the important functions
which devolve upon the lips in the econ
omy of the humtn face. Jt is true they
have not been thought worthy of a place
in coats of armor, like the eyes, or rais
ed to a level with the nose and ears,
which have, ere now, been the objects of
much costly decoration : but they form
that privileged feature which represent,
in their turn, the three most ennobling
gifts of nature —prophecy, poetry, and
eloquence. The w< rds “ his Ups were
touched with lire,” familiarly expressed
the power of prophecy.
It would be a useless piece of indus
try to collect the thousand elaborate and
ingenious things which poets, old and
young, ancient and modern, have wrought
into the description of a kiss. The choice
of all the sweet-scented flowers, and the
most approved juices, whether for their
gratefulness to tne taste or the smell,
have been from time to time defrauded
of their exquisite proportion in favor of
some particular class of kisses, to which
the following one, we suppose, belongs:
“’Tis everv aromatic breeze
Wafted from Afric’s spicy trees,
’Tis honey from the fragrant hive,
W hich chemist bees with care derive
From all the newly-opened flowers.”
It is no unfavorable step towards the
acquisition of better habits in future,
that the kiss has been emancipated from
the iron dominion of the law. Ihe gal
lant, gay creation of l 1 ranee has done
this for the world; but as it will be the
case in revolutions of all kind"-’, the ad
vantage of the change has been hurt by
some abuses. r lhe ingenious Montaigne,
indeed, deeply deplores the diffusion of
the spirit of kissing in France, because
he thinks the prevalence of that custom
takes away from the grace and favor of
a kiss, and complains of the hard fate to
which ladies are exposed, in being oblig
ed to lend their lips to every one with
the appearance of a gentleman.
“ As fur our part,” he adds, “ wc are
no gainers by it, for taking the sex in
general, for three pretty girls we must
kiss fifty ugly ones, and to a squeamish
stomach, like mine, a bad kiss will not
compensate for a good one.” The last
instance in which the kiss formed the
subject of serious regulation belongs to
a barbarous people. The Empress Cath
erine, of Russia, instituted assemblies of
men and women to promote the cultiva
tion of polite manners. Among the
rules for maintaining the decency of
those assemblies, she directed that “no
gentleman should force a kiss from, or
strike a woman in the assembly, under
pain of exclusion.”
———
asleep.
An hour before she spoke of things
Th.it me nory to the dying brings,
And kissed me all the while;
Then, after some sweit parting words,
She se med among her llower* and bird),
Until the fell asleep.
’Twas summer ti eu, ‘tis autumn now.
The ert i son leaves fail tff the bough.
And strew the gravel swtep.
I wander down the garden walk,
Ar.d muse on all the happy talk
We had beneath the limes:
And, resting on th£ garden seat.
Her eld Newfoundland at my feet,
I think of other times.
Os golden eves whin she and I
Sat watching here the flashing sky,
The sunset and the sea ;
Or heaid the chlldtca iu the lanes.
Following home the harvest wanes,
And-shouting In their ghe.
But when the daylight dies away,
And ships grow dusky ia the bay,
These recollections cease;
And in the stillness ot the night.
Bright thoughts that end iu dreams as bright,
Communicate thtir peace.
I wake and see the morning star.
And bear the breakers on ihe bar,
T he voices on the sh re;
And then, with tears T long to be
Across a dim, unc.-rtain sea.
With her f. reve mote.
What a Pretty Kittle Hand.
I am not a bashful man, generally speak
ing; I am fully as confident and forward as
most of my sex. I dress well, dance well,
sing tolerable. I don’t tread on ladies dresses
when I make my bow ; and I have a trick of
coloring to the roots of my hair when I am
spoken to. Yet, there was one period of my
lile, when all my merits seemed to my own
eyes magnificent, and I felt very modest,
not to say bashful. It was when I was in
love. Then, I sometimes and and not know
where to put my hands and feet Did I
mention that in the said hands and feet con
sists my greatest beauty? They are both
small. Three years ago I fell in love. I
did not walk into it quietly, weighing my
idol’s perfects. I fell in, head and ears, two
seconds after the introduction.
“Mr. Haynes, Miss Arnold,” says a mutu
al friend, sind lo ! I was desperately in love.
She was a little fair figure, with long brown
curls floating over a snowy neck and shoul
ders, and tailing down on the waist of an
enchanting sky-blue dress. Her large, dark
blue eyes were lull of saucy light, yet, oh!
how tender and loving they could look.
(This I found out late 1 .) ,
Os all the provoking, tantalizing little cc
quetts that ever t*-ased the heart out ot a
poor man, Susy Arnold was the most be
witching. I would pass an evening with
her, and go home, certain, that one more in
terview would make me the happiest of men ;
but the next time I met her, a cool nod, and
indifferent glance threw down all my castles.
She was very cautious. Not a word did she
drop to make me believe that she loved;
and yet her hand would linger in mine, her
colonise if I looked my feeling, and her eyes
droop, to be raised again in an instant, full
of laughing defiance. She declared her in
tention to be an old maid emphatically, and
in the next sentence declared ‘I never did
love, but if I should take a fancy to any body,
I should love him like—like a hou-e a fire.—
Though,’ she would say carelessly, ‘I never
saw any body yet worth setting my thoughts
upon.’
I tried a thousand ways to make her be
tray some interest in myself. Propose out
right I could not. She had a way when ev
er I tried it, of looking in my face with an
air of grave attention, of profound interest,
that was equivalent in its effect to knocking
me down, it took all the breath out of me.
One evening, while there, I was seized
with a violent headache. I told her I was
subject to such attacks, and the gipsy put
ting on a grave face, gave me a lecture on
the subject of health, winding up with.—
‘The best thing you can do is to get a
wife to take care of you, and to keep you
from over stu ly. I advise you to do it, if
you can get anybody to have you.’
‘lndeed,’ I sa'id, rather piqued, ‘there are
only too many. I refrain from a selection
for fear of breaking others’ heart*. How
fond all the ladies are of me !’ 1 added
conceited y : ‘though I can’t see that I am
particularly fascinating.
‘Neither can I,’ said Susy, with an air of
perfect simplicity.
‘Can’t yon ?’ I said, ‘I honed—hoped ,’
Oh! tha* dreadful attentive face of hers.
‘Thatis Miss Susy, T thought, perhaps—oh!
my head ! aud I buried my head in the cush
ion.
‘Does it ache very badly ?’ she asked ten
derly, and she put her cool little hand in a
mong my curls. I felt the thrill her fingers
gave m =5, all the way to the toes of my boots.
My head being really very painful, I was o
bliged to leave ; but, a’., the way home the
soft, cool touch, of those little fingers linger
ed upon my brow.
Soon after this it became necessary for me
to leave the city on business. An offer of a
lucrative partnership in the South in the of
fice of a lawyer friend of mine, made me de
cide to extend my trip, and see how the
‘land laid.’ One thing war certain, I could
not leave home for months, perhaps years,
without some answer from Susy. Dressed
in my most faultless costume, and full of
hope, I went to Mr. Arnold’s. Susy was in
the parlor, at the piano, alone. She nodded
gayly, as I caine in, but continued her song.
It was, ‘l’ve something sweet to tell you.’
“At those words, ‘I love you 1 I adore
yon!’ she gave me such a glance. I was
ready to prostrate myself, but sweeping back
the curls laughing defiance, she warbled,
‘But I’m talking in my sleep.’
‘Then,’ I cried, ‘you love me when you
sleep? Alay I think so?’
‘Ob! yes, if you choose; for ‘Rory O'More
B *ys that dreams go by contraries, you know ’
I ?at down beside her. ‘Ah 1 I said, sigh
ing. ‘Rory s idol dreamed she hated him.’
”y e s,’ said Susy, ‘that wa3 the difft-rence
between his and yours.
We chatted away for a time. At last 1
began.
‘ Miss Susy, I came up this eveniug to tell
you that I—l .’
How she was listening! A bright thought
struck me ; I would tell her of my journey,
and in the emotion she was certain to betray,
it would be easy to declare my love.
‘Miss Susy,’ I said ‘I am going South to
morrow.’
She swept her hands across the keys of the
piano into a stormy polka. I tried to se her
face, but her curls fell over it. I was pre
pared to catch her, if she fainted, or comfort
her, if she wept. I listened for the sobs I
fancied her music was intended to conceal;
but throwing back the curls with a sudden
toss, she struck the last chord of the polka,
and paid gaily,
‘Going away 1’
‘Yes, for some months.’ .
‘Dear me, how distressing! Just stop at
Levy’s as you go home, and order me some
extra pocket handkerchiefs for this melan
choly occasion, will you ?’
‘You do not seem to require them,’ I said,
rather piqued. ‘I shall stay some months.’
‘Well, write to pa, won’t you I And if
you get married, or die, or anything, let us
know.’
‘I have an offer to be a partner in a law
office in Kentucky,’ I said, determined to
try her, and if I accept it, as I have Boma
thoughts of doing, I shall never return.’
Her face did not change. The old saucy
look was there, as I spoke; but I noticed
that one little hand eloped convulsively over
her watch chain, and that the other fell upon
the keys, making for the first time a discord.
‘Going away forever ?’ she said, with a
sad tone that made my heart throb.
“Miss Susy, I hope you, at least, would
miss me, and sorrow at my absence.’
She opened her eyes with an expression
of amazemeut,
‘l?’
‘Yes it might change all my plans, if my
absence would grieve you.’
‘Change all your plans ?’
•Yes, I hope—though ’
Oh 1 that earnest, grave face. Ary cheeks
burned, my hands and feet seemed to swell,
and 1 felt cold chills all over me 1 I could
not go on. I broke down for the third time.
There was an awkward silence. I glanced
at Susy. Her eyes were rt ating on my hand,
which lay on the arm of the sofa. The con
trast between the black horse hair and the
flesh seemed to strike her.
‘What a pretty little hand?’ sh^said.
A brilliant idea passed through my brain.
‘You may have it, if jou will!’ I said off
ering it.
Sne took it between her own, and she
with the fiDgers said—
‘Alay I?’
‘Yes, if--if you will give me this one, and
I raised her beautiful hand to my lips.
She looked into my face. What she read
there I cannot say, but if ever eyes tried to
talk, mine did then. Her color rose, thfe
w hitc lids fell over the glorious eyes; and the
tiny hand strugg'ed to free itself. Was I
so 1 enough to release it?
What I paid I know not, but I dare say
my wife can tell you. Five minutes later,
my arms encircled the brown dress, the
brown curls fell upon my breast, and my
lips were in contact with—another pair.
Susy and I were married.
The Mystery of Progress.
Learn the mystery of progression duly ;
> Do not call each glorious change decay;
But we know we only hold our treasures
truly,
When it seems as if they passed away.
Nor dare to blame God’s gifts for incom
pleteness ;
In that want their beauty lies ; they roll
Towards some infinite depth of love aud
sweetness,
Bearing onward man’s reluctant sdul.
Presentiment Realized.
It will be recollected that the steamship
Ariel , while ou a recent passage from Havre
aad Southampton to this port, was struck by
a heavy sea which swept her deck, and in
stantly killed her commander, Capt. Ludlow.
It is stated by the officer who succeeded the
latter in command, (Capt. Brown,) that Capt.
Ludlow, before he left Havre, had a vivid
presentiment of his sad tate, and remarked
that if his wife were with him he would re
main at that port until the next voyage. —
The same fears were expressed by him on
leaving Southampton.
This is one of the examples of prophetic
forebodings which are frequent among non-
Spiritualists, and of which the history of al
peoples, nations and ages furnish us an
abundance of examples. What but an in
telligent influence from an interior, invisible,
yet real world can adequately account for
facts thus firmly established by evidence
outside of the phenomena peculiar to modern
Spiritualism, t utof which,nevertheless, mod
ern Spiritualism furnishes us so many bril
liant examples ?— Spiritual Telegraph.
Premonition. —At South Troy, N.Y.
on Sunday, a lad sixteen years of age,
died of croup, having suffered terribly
for several days. Two days before his
death, he called hit father to his bedside,
and told him that he was not going to
live, for he had a beautiful dream when
he was a-leep that told him so. lie
dreamed that he stood upon the earth ;
he saw God in Heaven looking sweetly
down upon him; that he let down a
golden chain, which fell upon the ground
at his feet; and that as he stooped to
look at it, God told him to take hold of
the chain and he would draw him up to
Heaven, and give him a crown of gold.
Sunday the little spirit was set free, and
the promise was fulfilled !
Presentiment. — An hour before the
North Carolina took fire, Mrs. Clayton,
one of the passengers, became suddenly
impressed with the belief that some im
pending calamity was at hand, and forth
with arose, dressed herself and prepared
for it. It is a sir gular fact, that some
persons are thus forewarned of danger;
and also with regard to other matters—
the result, good or bad, of a certain
course of conduct or the performance of
some duty. There are persons who have
these forebodings of the unknown events
of the future, and they often have good
causes to regret a failure to yield to the
real and strong, though mysterious in
fluence.—Norfolk Argus.
Curious Coincidence —if Nothing
More. —Among the providential escapes
from the North Carolina, recently des
troyed by fire, was that of Dr. McCabe,
of the Ascension Church, Baltimore, who
bad made all his arrangements to return
NO. 49.
home in the ill-fated vessel, but by an
accident only, took the Georgia. The
reverend gentleman on Sunday night,
offered up in church a prayer of thanks
giving for the escape, aud told the con
gregation that while asleep in the saloon
of the Georgia, he alarmed his fellow*
passengers by crying loudly in his sleep
“fire, tire, fire!” which caused considera
ble excitement for a while, but beinff
nothing but a dream, the fears of th
passengers were soon quieted.
Action.
Action is life!—’tii the still water faileth!
Inaction ever deapaireth—bewaileth I
Keep the watch wound, for the dark rust
aasailetb.
| Flowers droop and die in the stillness of
noon!
Action is glory !—the flying cloud light
ens !
Only the waving wing changes and bright
ens!
Inaction only the dark future frightens!
Play the sweet keys wouldst thou keep thejp
in tune.
Proqrkss of tbx Baptist Feud.—
A serious split has occurred in the Bap
tist Church at Jackson, Tenn. It origi-
I nated from the fact that the minister,
Rev. Aaron Jones, several weeks ago,
invited Rev. J. R. Graves to take a seat
in his pulpit This gave offence to thf
I anti-Graves members, and they seem to
| have expressed their opinion quite freely.
The minister remonstrated with them,
but finding them intractable, a meeting
of the church was called for the purposo
of investigation. A resolution was adop
ted by the Graves party declaring that
they would no longer fellowship with
the anties, whereupon the latter seized
the key of the church and took possession
of the building. They nailed up the
church and removed the bell. A law
suit between the parties will be the re
sult, as both parties proclaim to be thf
church, and the building will not be used
until the suit is decided. The member#
seem to be about evenly divided. The
excitement was intense, and extended to
the citizens who had no connection with
the church. We glean the above facta
from a lengthy, rambling account of the
affiir, wlrch we find in the Brownsville
Home Journal.
Excellent Darkey-Talk. —The fol
lowing is about as good as anything of
the kind caa be:
“So you had a bad susanside at your
house last nite, Sam,” said a colored
gemman, on meeting his colored crony,
a waiter at a hotel.
“ Oh, yes, Lemuel, dat we had—it al
most scart me into takiu’ a drink. He
was jis from Calilorny, wid heaps o*
noospapers. He cum ober de Jerecipe
lus by de Niggerauge rout, and put up
at our house prebious to his ’rival. I
tort de man was out ob his hed, kase he
gub me a shillin’ as soon as he laid eyes
on me—from dat minit I stuck by him
fur fear some interested pusson might
git hold ob him. De next mornin’, af
de chambermaid was agwine up
wid a scuttle ob coal for her breakfass,
she smelt lodlum, passin’ de man’s do’;
soon as she smelt dat, she smelt a rat.
She knocked to de man’s do’, but no an
swer Den she broke de do’ down, an’
dar laid de man wid he boots on, and in
he trout was a stickin’ in a bottle ob lod
lum. She hollered ; and we all kotched
hold ob de bottle to pull it out, but it
wan’t no use. We had to send for de
sturgeon. De sturgeon cum, and made
a decision here in de neck, nigh de bo.
rax, which reached as fur ss de equilib
rum reached into de sarafugii9, and put
tin’ a cortven in de decision, gub it a
poke wid a dispatchlus, when out flew
de bottle, and all was safe.”
“ What was safe,SSadem —de man ?”
“ No, de bottle—de man was dead
afore de sturgeon cum, but he had to do
sumfin to earn a feeler.”
‘•Was dere anything found in de pock
e.s, Sam ?”
“ How you s’pose 1 know I Do you
tink I’d put my hand in to feel I W bat
do you mean to insinewate?”
“ Oh, nuffin—only I never seed you
hab sich good close on afore, dat’s all!”
Somnambulic Eccentricity.
A short time since a wealthy lady, who
has an only son, called on Professor Pancoast.
The latter it should be remembered, rarely
visits patients, but receives them in the office.
On this occasion, however, Professor P. com
plied with this request, and was ushered in
to the presence of Mrs. Smith. After the
usual compliments, Mrs. S. opened the fol
lowing conversation:
“I wish to consult you, doctor, concerning
my son—George, you know.”
“ Oh, yes, madame,” said the Professor,
“ but he is surely not sick? ”
“ Why, fir, there are no acute symptoms,
but for about a month past he lias been af
flicted with somnambulism, and we fear that
unless the tendency is corrected, the most
serious consequences may arise.”
“ You say that he has walked in his sleep
for a month past ?”
“ Yes, sir.”
“ And never diJ previous to that ? ’
“No, sir.”
The doctor mused. “Os what does your
fatmly consist, madame ?'* he irquired.
“ Myself and my son, the two kitchen ser- ~
vants, aud Celeste, the chambermaid, who
only came last month.”
J ust at this moment the last named per
son entered. She was a plump, rosy-ltped
French girl who waited upon Mrs. Smitl.
When she had left the room, Mrs. Smith
remarked:
“ That’s my new chambermaid, doctor; in
teresting girl is she not?
“ Yes, madame, particularly so. I think
you siid she had been with you about a
month did you not ? ”
“ Yes, sir.”
“ Then, madame,” said the doctor, rising
and taking his hat, “tlowme to My that
any apprehensions of your son’s health
would .be superfluous. As long as that
young woman’s room is accessible to George
I fancy his somnambulic habits will continue.
And, madame, under these circumstances, I
really don't wonder at it.”
We rather imagine that that rather took
the old lady.