Newspaper Page Text
C*nlr ctl
coi'oum
❖
VOLUME XV.
SANDERSVILLE, GEORGIA, WEDNESDAY, MAY 8, 1861.
NUMBER 19.
J. M G. MEDLOCK,
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR.
jgg- The Central Georgian is published
weekly, at Two Dollars per annum, payable in
advance. Auy person sending FIVE NEW SUB
SORIBERS, accompanied with the Cash, will be
furnished with a copy of the Georgian for one
year FREE OF CHARGE. Remittances by mail
in registered letters at our risk.
The Georgian is the organ of the Planters
Club of Hancock, and will publish the proceedings
of the regular monthly meetings of the Executive
Committee. It will also contain, each month, at
least one original article from the pen of some
mcmbeJLof the Club.
Subscribers wishing the direction of their paper
changed, will notify us from what office it is to be
transferred. .
A D V E ft FISF. tfENTS conspicuously inserted at
^1 00 per square for the first insertion, and 50
cents per square for each subsequent insertion.
Those sent without a specification of the number
of insertions, will be published until ordered out,
and charged accordingly.
Sales of Land and Negroes, by Administrators.
Executors, or Guardians, are required bylaw to be
held on the first Tuesday in the month, be
tween the hours often in the forenoon and three
in the afternoon, at the Court-house in the county
in which tire property is situate. Notices of these
sales must be given in a public gazette forti baa s
previous to the <!av of sale.
Notices for the sale of Personal Property must
be given at least ten days previous todie day of
sale. , „ .
Notice to Debtors and Creditors of an Estate
must be published forta* days.
Notice that application will be made to the Court
of Ordinary for leave to sell Land or Negroes, must
be published weekly for two months.
Citations for Letters of Administration must be
published thirty days—for Dismission from Ad
ministration, monthly six months—for Dismis
sion from Guardianship, forty daa*s.
Rules for Foreclosure of Mortgage must be nub-
lished monthly for four months—for estah'ishing
lost papers, for the full space of threemonths for
compelling titles from Executors or Administrators
whore a bond has been given by the deceased, the
full space of three months.
Publication will always be continued accorling
to these, the legal requirements, unless otherwise
ordered
Miscellaneous.
turn of praise or recommendation?
Had lie ever told her of the satisfac
ULUU lie CVCI tuiu lici IUC 3<ll!SlUU~ A-rv***i . ,
tion he had known, or the comfort tie certainly wish these dreary st rms
had experienced. lie was not able to would never come, to keep one a pris
... . . 1 • • < * .1 1_ .. n .. /\ «-»<->! « Of fr A C/1 n A/A
rtcall the time or the occasion. As he
MA in from no tating a walk, no one ev n to hatro the* , large proporrton
the khuhen, and taking her worth,;,- a game of battledore wtth.nnd my back Son, of inhabi-
ket from the closet, place! it on the aching so with sitting still at the piano. ------ n f K
table, and sitting down, without speak- Nothing to do for exercise but to tants. . o , ’
i™ began to sew. Mr. Lee gllnced march up and down this long hal. Great Britain is alimited nonarehj
almost stealthily at the work in her ‘Well here goes then for a good brisk France is nominally constitutional, but
hands and saw that it was the bosom of march.’ And with this reflection, Miss in reality, an absoJute monarchy Rus-
... ..... Harriet Preston, a tall school-girl of sia and Austria are absolute. 1 russia
fourteen proceeded accordingly to take Spain and Sardinia, are
as vigorous a march as she might, in ‘ .k»™i,.«Af^onnii
a shir ,, which she was stitching neatly.
He knew that it was for him that she
was at work.
‘Praise your wife.’ The words were
before the eyes of his mind, and he
could not look away from them.
But he was not ready for this yet. He
still felt moody and unforgiving. The
expression of his wife’s face he inter
preted to ill-nature, he had no pati
ence. H s eyes fell upon the newspa
per that lay spread out before him, and
he read the sente ce—
‘A kind cheerful word spoken in a
gloomy home, is like the rift in a cloud
that lets the sunshine through.’
Lee struggled with himself a while
longer. His own ill-nature had to he
conquered first—his moody, accusing
spirit had to be subdued. But he was
coining right, and at last got right as
to will. Next catne the question as to
how he should begin. He thought of
many things to say, yet feare>t to say
them lest his wife should meet his ad
vances with cold leb ff. Atla-t, lean
ing towards’her and taking hold of the
bosom upon which she was at
A RIFT IN THE CLOUD.
BY T. S. ARTHUR.
Andrew Lee eamc at evening from
the shop where he had worked all day,
tired and out of spirits—came home to
his wife, who was also tired and out
of spirits.
‘A smiling- wife and a cheerful home
what o paradise it would be !’ said
Andrew to himself, as he turned his
eyes upon the cloudy face of Mrs. Lee
and sat down with knitted brow and a
rnoodv aspect.
Not a word was spoken by either.
Mrs. Lee was getting supper, and she
moved about with a weary step.
‘Come,’ she said at last, with a side
glance at her husband,
There was invitation in the word
only none, in the voice of Mrs. Lee.
Andrew arose and went to the table,
ne was tempted to speak an angry
word, but controlled himself, and kept
silence. He could find no fault with
the' chop, nor the sweet home-made-
bread, nor the fragrant tea. Tney
would have cheered his inward man,
if there had only been a gleam of sun
shine on the face of his wife. He no
ticed that she did not eat.
‘Are you not well, Mary?’ The
words were on his lips, but he (lid not
utter them, for the face of his wife
looked so repellar.t that he feared an
irritating reply. And so, in moody
silence the twain sat together, until
Andrew had finished his supper. As
lie pushed bis chair back, his wife
arose, and commenced clearing off the
table.
‘This is purgatory,’ said Lee to him
self, as he commenced walking the floor
of their little breakfast room, with his
hands thrust desperately away down
into his trousers pockets, and his-chin
almost touching his breast.
After removing all the dishes and
taking them into the kitchen, Mrs. Lie
spread a green cover on the table, and
placing a fresh trimmed lamp thereon,
went out and shut the door after her,
leaving her husband alone with un
pleasant feelings. He took a iong,
beep breath as she did so, paused in his
walk, stood for some moments, and
then drawing a paper fioin his pocket,
sat down by the table, opened the
sheet, and commenced reading. Singu
larly enough the words upon which his
eyes rested were, ‘praise your wife.’
They rather tended to increase the
disturbances of mind from which he
was sufterii g.
•I should like to find some occasion
for praising mine.’ How quickly his
thoughts expressed that ill-natured
sentiment. But his eyes were on the
page before him, and he read on. ^
‘Praise your wife, man; for pity s
sake, give her a little encouragement;
it won’t hurt you.’
Andrew Lee raised his eyes from
the paper and muttered, ‘Oh, yes.
That’s ail very well. Praise is cheap
enough. But, praise her for what?
For being sullen, and making your
home the most disagreeable piaee in
the world ?’ His eyes fell again to the
paper.
‘She has made your home comforta
ble, your hearth bright and shining,
your food agreeable; For pity’s sake tell
her you thank her, if nothing more.
She don’t expect it; it will make her
eyes open wider than they have for ten
years; but it will do her good lor all
that, and you, too.
It seemed to Andrew as if this sen
tence ..as written just for the occasion.
It was the complete answer to his
question, ‘Praise her for what?’ and he
felt it also as a rebuke. He read no
further, for thought came so busy, and
in a new direction. Memory was con
vincing him of injustice towards his
-wife. She had always made his home
as comfortable for him as hands conid
i-:. he offered the light re
litien ,
work, he said, in a voice carefully mod
ulated with kindness—
‘You are doing that work vi ry beau
tifully, Mary?’
Mrs. Lee” made no reply. But her
husband did not fail to observe that she
lost., almost instantly, that rigid erec
tion in which she had been sitting, nor
that the motion of her needle had
ceased.
‘My shirts are better made, and
whiter than those of any other man in
our shop,’ said Lee, encouraged to
go on.
‘•Yre they?’ Mrs. Lee’s voice was
low, and had in it a slight hus'kiness.
She had not turned her face, but her
husband saw that she leaned a little
towards him. Ilis hand was among
the clouds, and a few feeble rays were
already struggling through the rilt it
had made.
‘Yes, Mary,’ he answered softly,
‘and I’ve heard it said more than
once, what a good wife Andrew Lee
must have.’
Mrs. L e turned her face towards her
husband. There was light in it., and
liizht in her eve. But there was some
thin^ in the expression of the counte
nance that a little puzzled him.
‘Do you think so?’ she asked, quite
soberly. . _ *
‘What a question!' ejaculated An
drew
to
was sitting. ‘What a question, Mary!
he repeated, as he stood before her.
‘Do vou?’ It was all she said.
‘Yes", dai ling,’ was his warmly spo
ken answer, and he stooped down and
kissed her
‘How strange that you should ask
me such questions.’
•If vou would only tell me so now
and then Andrew, it would me good.’
And Mrs. Lee arose, and leaning her
face against the manly breast of her
husband, stood and wept.
What a strong light broke in upon
the inind of Andrew Lee. He had
never given to his faithful wife even
the small reward of praise for all the.
loving interest she had manifested dai
ly, until doubt of his love had entered
her soul, and made the light around
her thick darkness. No wonder that
her face grew clouded, nor that what
he considered moodiness and i l-u&ture
took possession of her spirit.
‘You are good and true, Mary. My
own dear wife. I am proud of you—I
love—and my first desire is for your
happiness. Oh, if I could always set
your face in sunshine, my home would
be the dearest place on the earth.’
‘How precious to me are your words
of love and praise, Andrew, said Mrs.
Lee, smiling up through her tears into
Ins face. With them in my ears, my
lioart oan nput*r iit> in Qlitirlnw.*
How easy had been the work for
Andrew Lee. He had swept h s hand
across the cloudy horizon of his home,
and now the bright sunshine was
streaming down and flooding thuthome
with joy and beauty.
Harriet's Task*
‘Dear me, if it wasn’t wrong, I should
oner in the house. No going to school
doors.
In the midst of her rapid walk the
drawing room door opened and a maid
servant with a broom in her hand
looked out. ‘Oh, it’s you, is it, Miss
Harriet,’ she exclaimed, wonderingly ;
‘I couldn’t think who in the world it
was marching up and down the hail.’
‘Did you suppose it was a burglar?’
asked Harriet, laughing, ‘I’ve no de
signs against overcoats or hats. I’m
only tired with sitting still.’
‘6h,’ said the girl, looking at her
voung lady almost bitterly; ‘and I’m
tired with hard work. That’s the dif
ference.’
The last words were uttered in an
under tone as she went back into the
room and commenced to sweep; but
Harriet heard them, and they smote
upon her ear with a strange, sudden
meaning. ‘Tired with hard work^.’ It
had never occurred to her that servants
could be ‘tired’ in the performance of
the daily duties which seemed a mere
matter of course; or that it could be
part of her duty ever to lighten theirs.
But now those few low words brought
the thought, ‘I’ve no doubt J .ne is
tired. She has swept all this big house
to-day; and I remember now her old
mother is sick, and Jane stayed with
her last night, and of course was bro
ken of her rest. No wonder she feeis
it hard that I should be wasting time
and strength marching up and down
here for exer.ise, when I might get it
just as well bv giving her a rest. I shall
go right in and finish her work for
her.’
The kind thought no sooner came
into the young girl’s heart than she
proceeded to execute it. She tied a
handkerchief over her smooth braids,
and pinned up her nice morning dress,
then she went in the drawing room
and said, taking hold of the broom,
‘Give it to me, Ja .e; I’ve a fancy for
taking a sweeping lesson myself this
morning, and you go out in the hall
and rest yourself. Here is a volume
of beautitul engravings my father
brought ine last week as a birthday
gif.; take those and look them over;
you’ll be careful of them, and I know
vou love pictftres. I’ve seen you look
at those on the walls with all your soul
in vour eyes.’
The girl stood and stared at her
-vvnaiu qucBuum you n<* lady in amazement; and when
ew Leb starting up and going around Harriet took hold of the broom, she
the side of the table where Ins wife stammere d out, ‘On no no Miss Harriet
■ ~ 1 lban k; ye for the kindness, but you
musn’t. Ye’ll get all mussed and warm;
please don’t Miss Harriet.’
But Harriet put her resolutely away
and b gan to ply the broom as vigor
How the World is Governed*
There are about one hundred separ
ately organized governments in the
world at the present time. Nearly one
half are monarchies in Europe; and of
these a large proportion are petty prin
Prussia,
_ i mi ted, with
two chambers of deputies. There are
only four republics in Europe—Swit
zerland, San Marino, Montenegro and
Andora. The three latter contain an
aggregate population of not over 120,
000 people. Switzerland, secure in her
mountain fastnesses, is now, by com
mon consent, left unmolested.
The governments of Asia are all ab
solute despotisms. Thibet has the name
of being a hierarchy, but differs in no
practical sense from a despotism.
In Africa, the Barbary States, and
all the various negro tribes, of what
ever name, are ruled despotically, ex
cept Liberia, which is Republican, and
mav be an opening wedge of civiliza
tion on that continent. This experi
ment, though, like.that of the Island of
Havti will yet assist in demonstrating
the” incapacity of the negro race for
self-government.
The great islands in the Southern
and Pacific Oceans are mostly indepen
dent and despotic—such is Japan, with
a populotion of twenty millions, and
Madagascar, containing about five mil
lions. The Sandwich and Society Is
lands are limited monarchies, and the
other islands in the Southern and Pa
cific Oceans belong mostly to the dif
ferent European powers, and are ruled
according to their respective forms of
government.
On the American continent, there is
but one monarchical government—that
of Brazil—which is, however, liberally
constitutional. In the three great geo
graphical divisions of America, there
are now nineteen separate republics.
Discouragements-
There is no business a man may en
gage in exempt from discouragements
of the most cr ing kind. They meet
us at every turn; and too often the
weak and timid, not knowing th it it is
the universal lot of all, and one of the
principle battles cf life we have to
fight, instead of facing them manfully
and taking them cooly as unavoidable,
give up in despair, or fly from one oc
eu pat ion to another, and roatn the
world over, without ever accomplish
ing anything, or making themselves
ha'ppv and contented. When we first
‘cut our cable and launch into the
world, we fondly dream each wind and
star our friends.’ Yes, we are most
sure to think that all things will work
together tor our furtherance, and we
will glide smoothly over the sea of life,
with scarcely any trouble or labor on
our part. But soon discouragements
present their brazen front occasioned
by difficulties and disappointments,
and we make a thousand shifts to get
and b gan to piv me oroom as vigor round them, and think our case is pe
ously if not as skillfully as Jane could culiar, till experience, the only convin
i if i • i ..oiii#* (!in° r teaches, shows us that it i» u^elt'Sa
have done herself; and the girl reluc- , without ex-
tant, yet touched and grateful, went and that it is the lot of all without ex
out at her bidding, and sat down on ce P^° n
the staircase to enjoy the rare luxury
of a half-hour’s rest and companionship
with the pictures, which appealed so
deliciously to the love of the beautiful
hidden awav in her untaught soul. - - . ,, • A
Harriet was well satisfied to have them bravely or give up and be ruined
earned by hard labor a look of such Progress will be the inevitable result
beam in <* pleasu re as the housemaid of. perseverance; and though we can
ueam 0 I .- , wui .r intermit our war.are. we will
We then for the first time find that
to be true which life’s older soldiers
have told us a thousand times, that it
is an unceasing warfare. There is but
one alternative left us—either to face
A facetious gentleman, traveling in
the country, on arriving at a roadside
inn in the evening, was met by the
ostler, whom he thus addressed: ‘Bov,
extricate that quadruped from the ve
hiel •, stabulate him, devote him an
adequate supply 7 of nutritious aliment,
and when the Aurora of morn shall
again illumine the oriental horizon I
will reward you with a pecuniary com^
pensation for your amiable, hospitality.
The bov, not understanding a word,
ran into the house, saying, ‘Master,
here’s a Frenchman wants to see you.
‘An’ Cuff, will ve be afther tipping
us a little bit of a song this mni nm .
exclaimed a son of the Emeralti is e to
a broth r of the sable race, a co-laborer
in the division and subdivison of wood.
‘Gollv inassa, I’ can t sing.
‘Can’t sing? An’ what’s yer leg
stuck in the middle of your-fut for, like
a bird’s, if ye can’t sing.
The best evidences of merit is a cor
dial recognition of it wnenever and
wherever it may be found.
gave her when she came out, leaving
tiie room in beautiful order. ‘The ex
ercise has done me as much good as
ttie rest has you, Jane,’ she said, cheer
ily; ‘and hereafter, on sweeping days,
remember the parlor is to be my de
partment.’
‘U uo, Miss Hareiet, indeed. Only
to-day; your mamma will bethinking,
Fin sure it ain’t a hard place with her.'
‘No, but the easiest place is bard
enough for one that has to work all
day ail her life. It will be good for
me to help you, and mamma will be
ciad; she wants me to learn to be a
no use-keeper. And you can look at
my p ciures, Jane, whenever you have
lime. 1 Know yuu will lie oaicful with
them.’
Harriet ran lightly up stairs, happy
in me consciousness of having given
pleasure, and with a new seed of g- od-
tvill sprung up in her heart that day.
Jane took up the broom, and went
her way with the bitter feeling giv
ing place to a new estimate of human
kinduess. . , , .,
Thus, in our simplest household
paths, there is room for us all to ‘bear
one another's burdens, and so fulfill
tue law of Christ.’
An auctioneer was selling a lot of
lioht land for agricultural purposes.
‘Gentlemen,’ said lie, ‘this is the most
'delightful land. It’s the easiest land
to cultivate in the.country; it s so light
so very liabt. Mr. Barker, here,
will corroborate my statement: he
owns the next patch, and will now tell
you how easily it is worked. ‘Yes,
Gentlemen,’said Mr. Parker, ‘it is very
easy to work it, but it’s a sight easier
to gather the crops.’
A schoolmaster asked one of his pu
pils “Can you decline a kiss!” Drop
ping a perplexed courtesy, she modest
ly replied; “Yes, sir; but I dim Hike
to!”
never intermit our war.are, we will
reach the goal of success in our under
taking.
How well it would be if all, when
setting out in life, could be taught and
made to believe these stubborn facts 1
for then they would .be armed against
them, and not ‘think strange as though
some strange thing had happened unto
them’ when they came to pass. But
the sanguine hopes and ardent aspira-
ti ns of the young are too strong to be
taught or governed by anything else
buiTstirn, glaring experience, and il
does us good to see them being taught
by this great teacher, confirming the
advice and warnings of okler pupils in
hor oobool.
A DISCQVEKY.—One cold night in
February, a traveler entered a loghouse
of a Georgia planter, in an unsettled
part of the State. A pine-knot wood
fire blazed on the hearth, but the apart
ment was, nevertheless, exceedingly
uncomfortable, from the fact that all
the doors and windows stood wide
open, admitting the full current of cold
air upon one side of those within while
the other was fairly .roasting. ‘Well
stranger,’ said the planter,* ‘I don t
know how it is; I keep these great fires
a going all day as you see, but, some
how or other, the room ain’t the thing
no how ’ ‘Shall I teach you how to
make them comfortable?’ asked the
traveler. ‘Why, I reckon, I wish you
would.’ The stranger rose and closed
the doors and windows. ‘Well, I de
clare,’—after wailing several moments,
and arranging his shoulders with the
air of one who suddenly feels better,
‘well I declare that is more comforta
ble, any how. I tell you what, old
woman,’ he added, turning to his wife,
‘you must recollect that 1’
Visit the Bible to learn wisdom#-
the throne of grace to obtain strength
—the sick, the dyidg and the poor, to
If vou have a large family of cure discontent—Cavalry to augment
thinlr r*f aat..! lnvft—and hull, heaven, and judgment.
Jin* married ! one family is enough. ! to crush a worldly spirit
Playing for Keeps-
‘See, mother, what a lot of garbles
I’ve got I’ said John. ‘I want you to
make me a great big bag to put them
in.’
‘Why, where did you get so many,
my son?’ asked his mother.
‘I won them from Pete Jon^s. See,
I got his glass law, too. I loaned him
one of mine to play with while he put
that in the ring. Isn’t it pretty ?’.
‘How much did you pay him for
them ?’ •
‘Pay him 1 Nothing. He and I play
ed for ‘keeps,’ and I was the best play
er, and won all his.’
‘How much did they cost Peter, do
3*ou suppose ?’
‘If he bought them, they must have
cost him about a dollar.’
‘And you got them for nothing?’
‘] played ‘upon the square,’ and
Pete Slid I got them all fair.’
‘So now you have got a dollar’s
worth of marbles, for which you never
paid one cent?’ said his mother, slowly
and with emphasis.
John, who was an honest boy, looked
at her as if he did not fully comprehend
the extent of her meaning.
‘Mr. Lowly,’ continued his mother,
‘is a gambler, and he wins other peo
ple’s money in the same way. He
plays ‘upon the square,’ he says.’
As the truth flashed upon John that
he was a gambler, he burst into tears,
and asked his mother what he must
do. After showing him how little
evils expanded into greater, and how
persons were tempted to cheat and de
fraud when there was a prospect to
make anything by it, she told him to
return all Peter’s marbles, and then to
go and ask God to forgive him.
Who of the boys that read this article
are in the habit of playing ‘for keeps?’
Determine that you will never do the
like again, and may God help you to
keep this resolve 1
In Love With Calico-
As the ‘last b st gift’ are discussing
the dress question in the Rural, we
think the remarks of one of the ‘sterner
sex’ a young man in Oswego county,
who has been inspired by calico—are
worthy of more than a passing notice.
Read them and ponder:
‘Calico dresses are grand institutions.
Delaines, silks, and even satins are
good enough in their place—in the
parlor or band-box, and all such; but
after all the old ‘stand by,’the substan
tial, is the shilling calico. Care must
be taken not to soil the s Ik, nothing
must come in contact with the n ee
dress that will rumple and stain it; out
the calico, that’s made for work, and
as the ‘highfalutins’ say, ‘nobly does it
fulfil its mission.’ Silk rarely finds its
way iuto the realities of life; that is, in
to the kitchen at home, or iuto the hut
of the suffering abroad.
But calico. O! what rich meals we
wet by it; how it cheers the suffering
as with its bright colors and cheerful
presence it stands with soft hand min
istering to our distresses.
Calico seems to be always more wil*
linw and ready to give to want than
silk. It is a curious fact of our nature,
that the nicer our dress the harder our
heart is, as if when dressed in silk we
changed our natures and rose above
base wordly things. What! our silk
dress to be seen near enough to that
poor woman to give her assistance, or
drabbling into a dirty hui|? No, never!
Calico might do it; silk, it’s just im
possible.
But when, in addition to all, Calico
comes in, rosy with the exercise of
kitchen dut.es which it knows how to
do so well, and loves to do so dearly,
and sits down at the piano, or melode-
on, and makes the liquid melody flow
sweetly forth; aye, even blending its
own sweet voice with th.: music of the
instrument, then we appreciate Calico.’
An Elegant Woman-
Therc is a person whose harmonious
voice gives to her conversation a charm
found equally in her manners. She
knows how to speak and how to keep
silence, how delicately to engage her
self with you, and use only proper sub
jects of conversation. Her words are
happily chosen; her langurge is pure,
her raillery caresses, and her criticism
does not wound. Far from contradic
ting with the ignorant assurance of a
fool, she seems to seek in your compa-
nv, good sense or truth. Sue indulges
in dissertation as little as she does in
dispute; stops when she pleases. Of an
equable temper, her air is affable and
^ay. Her politeness has nothing forced
iu it, her welcome is never servile; she
reduces respect to nothing more than a
delicate shade; she never tires you, and
leaves you satisfied with lerand your
self. Attracted to her sphere by an in
explicable power, you fin! her wit and
grace impressed upon the things with
which she surrounds herself; every
thing there pleases the sight,while ilnr;
you seem to breathe tne fresh air of
the country. In iutima’cy this person
seduces you by a tone of fresh simplic
ity. She is frank, without offending
any one’s self-love.
She accepts men as God has made
them, pardoning their faults and ridic
ulous qualities; comprehending all ages
and vexing herself about nothing, since
she has tact enough to foresee every
thing. She obliges rather than con
soles, she is tender and gay, there
fore you will love her irresistibly.
You will take her for a type aud vow
to worship her.
“I say friend, give us a chaw to
bacco.’ “Well, stranger, I’m just oaten
terbacer, but I've got some nv the best
rossum that ever you chawed.”
Ministering Angels-
The beautiful have gone with their
bloom from the gaze of human eyes.
Soft eyes that made it spring-time in
our hearts are seen no more. We have
loved the light of many a smile than
has faded from us now; and i i our
hearts have lingered sweet voices that
now are hushed in thesilence.of death.
Seats are left vacant in our earthly
homes, which hone again can fill. Kin
dred and friends, loved one-, have
passed away one by one; our hearts are
left desolate; we are lonely without
them. They have passed with their
love to ‘that land, from whose bourne
no traveler returns.’ Shall we never
see them again? Memory turns with
lingering regret to recall those smiles
and the loved tones of those dear fa
miliar voices. In fancy they are often
by our side, but their home is on a
brighter shore. They visit us in our
dreams, floating over our memory like
shadows over moonlit waters. When
the heart is weary with anguish, and
the soul is bowed with grief do they
not come and whisper thoughts of
comfort and hope? Yes, sweet mem
ory brings them to us, and the love we
bore them lifts the heart from earthly
aspirations and we long to join tnem in
that better land. They ho.er round
us, the ethereal, dear departed ones—
the loving and the loved, they watch
with eyes that slumber not. W hen
gentle dreams are wandering to the
angel land, in whispers'"wake the hym
ning strains of that bright and happy
choir, revealing many a tale of hope,
and bliss, and tenderness, and love.
They tell of sunny realms, ne’er view
ed by mortal eye—of forms arrayed in
fadeless beauty—and lofty anthems to
their great Creator's praise are sounded
forth in sweet seraphic numbers. And
this bright vision of the blest dissolves
the tumult of life’s jarring scenes; they
fade in air, and then we glory in the
thought that we are heirs of immortal
ity. And why is it that we regard with
such deep reverence and love, those
bright, celestial beings of another
sphere? Ah, it is because they take
an interest in our welfare, and joy over
our success in the great battle of life.
They are not selfisn in their happiness,
but fain would have us share it with
them.—King wood Chronicle.
Having One’s Own Way-
As we came on a Brooklyn ferry
boat, the other day, says an exchange,
a gentleman, one of the fast men, evi
dently, drove on board at a rapid rate,
and nearly ran over a man, whoseized
the horse by the bridle, and brought
him to a standstill.
‘What do you mean,’ said the indi
vidual driving, ‘by catching hold of
my horse ?’
‘What do you mean, by driving
over people in this kiud of way?’ was
replied.
‘Let go my horse, I tell you 1’
‘I’ll see you* i ung first.’
Thejnan leaped out of his buggy,
and coming rapidly upon the other,
whip in hand, cried out:
‘Let go that horse.’
‘I say I won’t, till I get ready.’
‘Well then,’ said the driver, throw
ing his whip into the wagon, ‘just hold
him, will you ?’ and he walked into
the cabin.
That was a quiet and quite as cute a
way to settle a dispuie, as that adopted
bv Nooks when he met Stooks in a
tight place, and ne.ther could turn out
without some danger of overturning
their respective carts.
•If you don’t turn out,’ said Nooks,
‘I’ll serve you just as I did a tnan I met
half a mile back here, iu just such a
place as this.’
Stooks was impressed by the decis
ion Nooks displayed, and promptly
complied with the request; but, just as
he was getting by lie inquired :
‘How about that man you met—how
did you serve him?’
•Well, you see,’ said Nooks, ‘when
I found he wouldn’t turn out for me,
why I just turned out for him.
Weak Christians.—A writer in
the Missouri Baptist groups five classes
under this title:
1. There are some brethren so phy
sically weak, that they cannot raise
their hands as high up as their p ckets
and sc me not quite so weak but that
they do that, who are not able to lift
them out again.
2. There are some brethren so weak
from the labors of business, that tliev
have no strength to walk to church oil
the Sabbath, and some not quite so
weak, who can get there only once a
day.
3. There are some so weak after the
toils of the day, they are not able io
walk to prayer meeting; and then
again, others who can get theie who
are too weak to pray.
4. There are some brethren so weak
as to be unable to rise early to have
family worship before business hours;
then there are others, who do rise ear
ly, but are too weak to reach down the
Family Bible.
5. There are some brethren weak io
talents, but they are not quite so weak
wtien a po.itical meeting is on hand.
—. ♦ •— 1
While Lincoln wrs in the Senate a
day or so before the inaugurat on,
Wilson, of Mass., came to WigfaH’.-
desk and asked him to go over and be
introduced to Lincoln. ‘What do you
charge?’ says Wigfall. ‘Nothing,’
sa\s Wilson, ‘I never yet went to see
a beast without paying at least a quar
ter, and I nevtr intend to,’ said Wig-
fall. Wilsyp departed.
Money-
Money is a queer institution. It
buys provender, satisfies justice, and
heals wounded honor. Everything re
solves itself into cash, from stock job
bing to building churches. Childhood
craves pennies; youth aspires to dimes;
manhood is swayed by the mighty dol
lar. The blacksmith swings the siedge,
the lawyer pleads for his client, and
judge decides the question of life or
death for his salary. Money makes
the man; therefore man must make
money, if lie will be respected by fools;
for the eye of the world looks through
golden spectacles. It buys Brussells
carpets, lace curtains, gilded cornices,
rich furniture, and builds marble man
sions. It drives us to c lurch in splen
did equipages, and pays the rent in the
best pews. It buys silks an I jewelry
for my lady—-it commands the respect
of gaping cow'D, and ensures obsa-.
quious attention. It enables us to be
charitable, to send Bibles to heathens,
to remove domestic indigence. It gilds
the rugged scenes of life and spreads
over the rugged scenes of existence a
velvet carpet soft to our tread; the rude
scenes and turmoils are encased in a
gilt frame. It bids care vanish, soothes
the anguish of the bed of sickness;
stops sliort of nothing save- the grim
destroyer, whose relentless hand spares
none, but levels all mortal distine ioD,
and teaches poor, weak humanity that
it is but dust. Thus wealth pauses on
the brink of eternity; the beggar and
die millionaire rest side by side be
neath the sod, to rise in equality to an
swer the final summons.
The Light of a Cheerful Face-
There is no greater every day virtue
than cheerfulness. This quality in
man among men is like sunshine to
the day, or gentle renewing moisture
to the parched herbs. The light of a
cheerful face diffuses itself, and com
municates the happy spirit that in
spires it. The sourest temper must
sweeten in the atmosphere of continu
ous good humor. As well might fog,
cloud, and vapor, hope to cling to the
sun-illuminated landscape, as the blues
and moros ness to combat jovial speech
and"extiilarating laughter. Be cheer
ful always. There is no path but will
be easier traveled, nolo id but wili lift
sooner in the presenee of a determined
cheerfulness. It may sometimes seem
difficult for the happiest tempered to
keep the countenance of peace and con
tent; but the difficulty will van sh,
when we truly consider that sullen
gloom and passionate oespair do noth-
i ig but multiply thorns and thicken
sorrows. Ill comes to us as providen
tially as good, and is as good if we
rightfully apply its lesso. s; who will
not then cheerfully accept the ill and
blunt its apparent sting?
Cheerfulness ought to be the fruit of
philosophy and Christianity. What is
rained by peevishness, by. perverse
sadness and sullenness ? If we are ill,
let us be cheered by the trust that we
shall soon be in health; if misfortune
befall us, let us be cheered by hopeful
visions of better fortune; if death rob
us ot dear ones, let us be cheered by
the thought that they are only gone
before to the blissful bowers where we
shall all meet to part no more forever.
Cultivate cheerfulness if only for per
sonal profit. It will be your consoler
in solitude, your passport and commen
tator in society. You will be more
sought after, more trusted and esteem
ed for your steady cheerfulness.
Idleness.—An indolent man is a
nuisance to society. 11 wedded he is a
iiuisauce to his family, be he rich or
poor. If rich his idle example will be
followed by his children, aud they
crow up spendthrifts, wholly incapable
of doing anything u eful and in nine
cases out of ten they become poverty
stricken, vicious and a pe?t to society.
If the idle married man is poor he is a
burthen to his family, and his days
o-liJe away without thought of tne
wretchedness that awaits himself, and
all those who should be his depend
ents for food, raiment, and good ex
amples; yet with all this in perspective,
he lacks moral courage to reform his
habits, and become a man to save his
little ones from perishing.
In lolent bachelors are likewise a
nuisance to the well being of society.
Such characters should be shu ined as
one vvoulu shun the evil one; for indo
lence beg its condemnation and pun-
ishinent. Idle men, or those who sup
port themselves in idleness, must be
gamesters, swindlers or robbers, for
idleness will not support a man hon-
estly.
Beware, therefore, one and all, rich
or poor, of engendering this founda
tion of all evil habits; eschew its al
lurements, and forever walk in the
pleasant path of industry, where com
forts and joys will be thy constant
companions.
A militia officer wanted to compli
ment a negro by drinking with him.
‘Well, captain,’ said Cuff, Tse very
dry, so 1 wont be ugly about it. Some
niters are too proud to drink with a
mafishy ossifer, but I think a malishy
ossifer,” when ho is sober, is just as
good as niggif 6 —specially when the
nigga is dry.
The human mind is so fond of strik
in'* contrasts, that when a man is prais-
e<i°ior some extremely high quality,
ih: first thought of many people is to
ascertain what are his lowest ones.
It is a bad sign to see a man with his
hat .off at midnight explaining the the
ory a id principles of true democracy
to a lamp post.