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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.