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“ I do think the Bible leads to what
pov call the extravagant side. Ihe rest
< *' the chapter, following the verse I have
.noted gives little encouragement to much
forethought, either in food or raiment,
end in another place sa\s . Ho that
hath two coats let bin impart to him that
h:*tii rone.” This rule leaves very little
to pack away in a cedar closet. In my
•■-pinion, God’s providence is far from en
couraging extensive accumulation, either
<•{' money or possessions, especially among
Christians. Fire and flood, drouth, mil
dew and moth stand ready to rebuke that
spirit of covetousness which the Lord
abhorreth.”
“ Surely, Aunt Julia, you wouldn’t
have mo give way the new furs you gave
me yourself last Winter ?”
““No, my child ; but let us examine for
a moment this moth eaten pile. Here
are three coats of your husband’s, which
he could never possibly wear again. ’
“ Those arc for fishing, Aunt.”
“ llow often docs he fish?”
“ Once in four or five years, said
Anna, looking* slightly discoinfitted.
“Well, here is a bag of outgrown,
shrunken socks and stockings, and these
old dresses of Ada’s, and the overcoats of
t lie boys, that I heard you say were unfit
for wear, even in the playground ; and
besides, I think you remarked that the
whole difficulty originated in an old carpet,
which had been harboring moths many
years, when it might have been out of
harm s way upon some poor widow s
floor.”
“ Well, Aunt, I believe you are half
right ”
“ Try my rule, Anna; not after your
property is ruined, but when you find
you can spare it—even at the risk of
sending* some of your treasure to Heaven
before you have obtained all you could
from its use. Many an old garret have
[ known to bo infested with moths, ruin
ing hundreds of dollars worth ot valuable
articles, when the whole evil might be
traced to an old coat, or carpet, selfishly
or carelessly withheld from the poor.
We are God’s stewards, and our luxuries
are not given us to feed a ‘covetousness
which is idolatrybut arc talents which
may be increased ten times before the
great day of final account. When the
people ask me how to prevent months, I
always long to say, ‘ Lay up your trea
sures in heaven ; because I have found
from experience it is a sure and conve-
nicnt way.’ ”
“ Well, Aunt, I own I never thought
much about it before as a matter of Christian
duty. I will try, before another year, to
confine my care to the articles 1 need,
and shall hope for better success.”
Irish Wit.—Sir Walter Scott, on one
occasion, having: no smaller coin, flung a
shilling to the lad who was holding his
horse. “There, Pat, that’s too much;
you'll owe me sixpence out of it !” “ May
your honor live till I pay you ! ” instantly
exc’aiim and the delighted recipient.—Chas.
Mathews, father of the present distinguish
ed comedian, used to tell a story of his land
ing in Ireland, and being immediately
accosted by a porter : “ Sure it’s glad
we are to see you among us, Mr. Mathews.
It’s myself'll be proud to carry your
honor’s luggage. ” —“ Why, what can you
know about me V —“ Ocb, haven’t we all
heard of your honor, and an honor your
coming is to ould Ireland, Mr. Mathews.”
Immensely gratified to find that his repu
tation was so widely spread, Mathews
g ive the porter double his fee. “ And
now. my friend, ” said he, on arriving at
the hotel, “ tell me truly where you hap
pened to hear of me before?” — a Faith,
your honor,” said the man, pocketing his
well-earned gratuity with a grin, “ I’ll not
desave you. I read your honor’s name on
your portmanteau.*’
An English chemist has discovered a
transparent cement (which he calls coagu
line i, bv which glass, rope, leather, wood,
stone, ivory, bone, or minerals, can be
pieced or joined, and so tenacious is it that
when thus used it will resist a strain of
224 pounds or more. Heat and cold, fire,
and water, are successfully resisted by it.
In piercing glass or crystal with it, its
transparency renders the junction imper
ceptible, and its adhesiveness makes the
Ire ken glass or crystal as good as new.
A little boy had lived for some time
with a penurious old uncle, who took great
care that the child’s health should not be
injured by over-feeding. The uncle was
cue day walking out (the child at his side),
when a friend accosted him, accompanied
by a greyhound. . While the elders were
talking, the little fellow, never having
s on ad :of so slim and slight a texture,
clasped H e creature round the neck, with
the oned cry, “Oh, doggie,’ and
did ye h ve wi’ your uncle, too, that ve are
so thin V
. #
John (?. Breckinridge is said to be in
Hew York incog. — Hangor Whig.
U. S Orant is said to be in Washing
ton hi cognac. — Hang or Democrat. \
The following Poem appeared in many journals
during the war; but we think it well worth repro
ducing. No one doubts that Randall stands very near
the head of the line of our Southern Poets. The pity
is that he does not sing oftener :
The Cobra Ca.pella.
BY JAMES 11. RANDALL.
"The Cobra, though exceedingly venomous, has an aspect
of gentleness and docility." —Encyclopedia.
Beautiful—yes! for her basilisk eyes,
Gleam out when the features are luscious and
mellow,
Beautiful—yes! but adown the disguise
I detect just a tinge of the Cobra C'apella,
And I think mother Eve looked exactly like this,
When she played such a prank on uxorious Adam;
I’ve a chronic dislike to a serpentine kiss,
And never cat apples in any style, Madam.
Beautiful—yes! as she paddles her fan
'Mid the broidered lagoons of her robe of white
muslin;
And the tight little boot taps a quick rataplan,
In a way most piratical, not to say puzzling.
She prates to Tom Noddy, the handsome young goose,
Os Don Trombonnetti, divine on the flute;
And then, with a smile that's as arch as—the deuce,
Quotes pert panegyrics on somebody’s foot!
4 .
She’ll sing you a hymn or tell you a fib,
(Just one of those cynical, feathery trifles),
And then, with a smirk that I think rather glib,
Sigh after some monster that left with the Itiflcs.
She vows I’m a miracle walking with men—
(Ugh! I swallow it all with a groan and a cough),
For I know that most women are comical, when
Their night caps are on and the visitors off!
Aye, rattle ahead and prattle away,
But, in sepulcherod thought, I brood over another;
We parted, alas! about nine months to-day;
And wc never must meet again—somehow or other.
They tell me, poor bird, it is painful to see
How you’ve changed, since we rode in the hot Sum
mer weather —
And oh, if I felt you were pining for ine,
I’d hew me a path that would bring us together.
In your solitude, still, do you sing the old songs!
O, the “Long weary day!” shall it cease for us
never?
But herein the ruck of the sumptuous throngs,
Your name in my lone hear t is sacred forever!
All me! lam chill, for ’tis fearful to sit
By the Cobra, when languished with tenderer mat
ters—
Ah ! I see that my secret is guessed—every bit—
For she’s nibbling her lip, and the lan is—in tatters.
Beautiful—yes! but I shall not succumb,
Though wifeless from Beersheba to Dan;
Heigho! if my heart were but under her thumb,
She’d crumple it, too, like the innocent fan!
*®*
[From the London Daily Telegraph.]
ROBERT E, LEE.
At Lexington, in the state of Virginia,
there is a college which bears the name
of the most illustrious citizen ever born
in the “Old Dominion,” fertile as that
pleasant land has been in heroes; nor
could George Washington himself have
wished that the college erected in his
honor should have for President a wor
thier chief than the one who quietly
entered upon his duties just a fortnight
ago. The new President is still in the
prime of manhood, though already his
hair and beard are gray ; be has been
long accustomed to command ; he is fa
miliar with hardships as with fame—has
slept for months amid the woods of Vir
ginia, and has crossed the Rappahannock
northward at the head of a victorious
army ; he has been proved alike by good
and evil fortune, and whether, when
threatening the Federal capital, or when
surrendering his sword to a Federal Cap
tain, he has ever borne himself as be
seemed a man noble alike by ancestry
and by nature. The descendant of “Light
Horse Harry” has doffed the gray uni
form for the garb of a peaceful professor;
nor can wc own that this change is a
degradation, even tor Robert Lee.
There is a difference in the mode of
action, but no alteration in the object,
which is simply to render the best service
lie can to his native State. To that sin
gle aim he has never once been unfaith
ful ; and he will still pursue it, we may
rest assured, with the old high enthusiasm,
tempered by a cautious brain. Through
out the war nothing was more remarkable
than Lee’s personal influence—the manner
in which he impressed every one who
approached him. That men with Jack
son’s purity and earnestness, or with the
debonnairc and graceful valor of Stewart,
should appreciate the illustrious qualities
of their leaders, was only natural; but
even the humblest soldiers in the rank
felt, though they might not have been
able to express the moral power which Lee
exerted. The war was, in ail conscience,
sanguinary enough ; but there would
have been a very carnival of carnage, a
devilish outbreak of all men’s fiercest
passions, had the Southern leader been of
different temper. Gallantly as the Con
federates fought, we must never forget
that their armies wove often composed of
somewhat questionable raw material ;
that the volunteers, with all the instinct
of bravery which seldom deserts a domi
nant class, had likewise many ot the vices
which are invariably engendered by the
mots® ©i ass s®sas.
possession of arbitrary and lawless power.
It was eminently due to Robert Lee that
the courtesies and humanities of civilized
warfare were, on the whole, observed.
The jrentle nature of the man never de
generated into weakness; with a high
hand he could restrain excesses, and ad
mirably did he exercise his power. There
arc no purer pages in the history of the
civil war than those which relate to his
invasion of Maryland and Pennsylvania,
at a time when the temper of the Southern
people was sorely tried. Su<di qualities
as lie displayed could not fail, in a long
run, to win the regard of a manly and
affectionate people; and while we fiud
that he was loved like a father by all those
who shared his immediate perils, we have
not yet forgotten that when the victorious
veterans of the North were marching
home through Richmond, they burst into
a splendid shout of enthusiasm, as they
recognized, gravely contemplating them
from a curtained window, the familiar
form and face of Robert Lee.
For tlie Banner of the South.
THE CONFEDERATE BANNER.
Banner of a nation’s love—once of a
nation’s hopes—banner of my country !
What heart does not pulsate, what eye
does not weep at the sight ? Why
proudly wave its folds no more ? Why
shine its stars no longer in the sunlight of
Heaven ? Ah ! why is it tattered and
torn ? its bright stars dimmed by a na
tion’s tears ? 0, why does my country
bow her head and weep because the dust
is on its folds ?
llad she no patriots to strike for it—
no heroic sons to save it ? Did their
hearts fear and their arms grow weak in
her time of need and danger ? Nay; my
country bears a nobler record of her sons.
More heroic deeds, nobler self-sacrifice
and suffering, deeper and more devoted
love to country never graced the pages of
Spartan history!
When the loud cry of wnr first sounded
and that Banner was raised on high, think
how they gathered ’round it in thousands
and greeted it with the wild huzzali.
Remember how they followed it through
long, weary marches, beneath the scorch
ing rays of the Summer sun ; through
the frozen snows of winter; often in tat
tered garments, with shoeless feet, from
the mountains of the Cumberland to the
marshes of the Gulf Coast. See how they
guarded and clung to it, in the Forts,
when often every assistance and, even the
supplies necessary to existence, wore cut
off by their enemies; while they braved
unabating the storm of shells, which every
hour made their numbers less. They
still reared that Banner above their devot
ed heads, and were hopeful as long as
they could sustain it there ; and only
when their meagre supplies were con
sumed, and life could not be lengthened
out in the presence of grim Famine, do
we see them falter, because they could
defend it no longer.
Next, watch them when the battle
notes of strife pealed their harsh tones, to
tell of the approaching conflict and of its
dangers. How they rallied ’round it
with the enthusiastic cheer on their lips ;
the deep, daring love in their hearts ;
and in their minds the calm determina
tion that with victory they would proudly
crown their Banner. On through the
terrible fray they move; braving the
storm of balls and shell amid the cannon’s
smoke and thunder; over the dying that
fall at every step*; up to the blazing can
non’s mouth, into the very jaws of Death.
They see not danger; they heed not
death ; they stop not; pause but a mo
ment to catch the last farewell of some
loved one, who falls at their side ; then
press onward, led by that Banner, up
ward, to seize the glory that hovers around
and above a scene like this, and place it
in proud triumph to shine amid its bright
and beautiful stars, adding new lustre to
its shining folds. When stricken down
for a moment, there was ever the ready,
eager hand to rear it again, even at the
certain sacrifice of life ; till its foes, as
tonished and confused, withdrew. Then
while they surveyed the thousands that
died, and the weakened, bleeding, sur
viving few’ that had dared and done so
much, they, even its enemies, were
struck with astonishment, and in admira
tion, were led to exclaim, “ ’Tis a pity
for such brave men to die.’’ Thus they
followed it, through dangers and horrors
too sad and too terrible for the human
heart to contemplate.
How many battle fields could tell this
same mournful story, and how many
mounds, now evergreen with grass, and
marked by the simple words, “Confederate
soldier,” would testify to its truth !
But after the battle is over and the
victory won, let us follow to the soldier’s
camp at night, and there we behold a
sight more noble still, as we see the
leaders of this heroic band gather them
selves and their followers together, and
bow in humble, grateful thanksgiving to
God. for the victory they had so dearly
gained In them behold the noblest work
of God, the soldier alike of his country
and the Cross. The name of a Johnston
and a Longstreet, a Jackson and a Lee,
should be written on the pages of history
in characters immortal, that will sniuo
when an Alexander and a Napoleou will
be forgotten.
They were alike faithful, through all
the changing scenes mid misfortunes of
war. As they were proud of it in vic
tory, they loved and deplored it in mis
fortune. When reverses came, they did
not yield, but pressed around it more
closely, and struggled on, amid alternate
hopes and fears. They listened not to
the overtures of its enemies to forsake
and dishonor it, but raised and defended
it so long as their numbers were sufficient
to form a bulwark around it. The fa
mous field of Waterloo tells not more
glorious tales of the immortal imperial
guard than the battle-fields of proud,
old Richmond, with many others, will
furnish to history, if impartial justice
writes it.
When their numbers grew weaker,
in each successive battle, and their ene
mies still rushed upon their stricken
bands, heroism became unavailing, and
human power could not avert the threat
ened destruction; when the famishing
fragments of this glorious army were
broken through, overwhelmed and com
pempelled to go out from Richmond--
that last stronghold of the nation—and
their noble leaders, with the faithtul
Johnson thought best to surrender and
save their country from further devasta
tion ; then they gathered their devoted
heroes together for the last time, and
told them they must bid farewell to the
banner they had loved so well and del end
ed so long. As this chivalrous band
pressed around their leaders and their
banner with sad. despairing hearts; and,
looking upon it, thought how their ene
mies would scorn it with none to defend
it; and again, hew thousands ot their
comrades had died with their last look
turned towards it, and their last prayer
uttered for its safety, we see the soldiers
'•falter there.
They could fight for it, die for it, but
they could not surrender it to their ene
mies.
But as they looked upon it again, as if
to gather strength and hope, and saw
despair Hap her dark wings above it, then
fold them there in ominous silence ; see
how their bosoms swell and their lips
quiver with unutterable anguish. When
called before the foe they had so often
vanquished to take the oath that would
bind them to the banner of oppression;
see how they turned to brush away the
tear they could not suppress. Here for
once we see the strong man weak, the
hero moved to tears. It was glorious
thus to die.
It was glorious thus to die ; it was noble
thus to live ; lasting honor to the heroic
living; eternal glory to the noble dead.
The light of their glorious deeds shall
yet blaze forth through the ignominious
darkness with which their enemies now
obscure them, and lead an astonished and
admiring world to applaud what the now
ignore.
Ilow wo mourn for those who died thus
early, in the zenith of their glory; but
now we know they are the truly blest;
God gathered them to himself, ere their
proud, free hearts were made to bow to
the ignoble fate they could not avert, ere
they knew their blood was to water a land
of slaves. Blamelessly they lived, nobly
they died, and glorious shall be their re
cord iu our hearts. May they sleep un
conscious of our fate. The tramp of
the foeman’s feet, as lie irreverently
marches through 1 lieir humble burying
ground, shall fail to awaken them ; his
rude laugh and heartless jest shall not
rush the life-blood in indignation to their
cheeks; theory of the injured and op
pressed will “ne’er arouse their moulder
ing forms, again to breast the bullet’s
storm.” May they sleep on, sleep peace
fully ; and may their memory be en
shrined forever in the bosom of the land
they died to save.
“On Fame’s eternal camping ground,
Their silent tents are spread,
And glory guards with solemn round,
The bivouac of the dead.”
Though we could not forget them and
all they bore and sacrificed for our coun
try, yet we would not call them back to
earth. Fathers, mothers, sisters, who
lost your loved ones there, and now have
nothing of them but the miniature that
seems to mock you while you look upon
it, or perhaps the “Jacket of Gray” that
came back to you. soiled and marked by
the cruel ball—still the heart’s wild com
plainings, and hush its murmuring with
the assurance that “God doeth all things
well.” Think of him no more as the
wounded soldier, buried afar from the
home of his youth ; away from the friends
that loved him ; with no tears to hallow
his lowly bed, save the tears which Na-
ture weeps at night; with no requiem,
save the night-bird’s plaintive song ;
but think rather their ransomed spirits
are among the brightest and most blessed
in Heaven —for next to the cross are the
martyrs of their country.
1 T ot, niethinka, as they rove together
through the brightest Elysian fields of
Paradise, and talk of their sufferings
here, they ever look down with pitying
eyes upon their friends, their comrades,
and their country. Oh! my country!
my country ! we could weep for thee over;
thy fair dominions ruthlessly desolated—
thy name degraded, thy honor torn from
thee. Who could but sigh for thy fading
glory ? who could refrain from shedding
a tear over the funeral rites of thy li.
berty ? Fondly, yet sadly, my heart lin
gers round thee, the dearest, the noblest,
once the fairest and most honored land of
earth. Joy and pride mingle with
thoughts of thy past ; sorrow and humili
ation with thoughts ot thy iuture.'
Oh ! how sadly comes the thought, that
the evil spirit of tyranny shall find a
resting-place amid the fair bowers ol our
“ Sunny South,” and here remain to
blight the fair fame of our noble coun
try. Yet, as the bright Goddess of Lib
erty, at thy approach, takes her flight
from this, the land where she has reigned
supreme, I see her pause in her flight to
gaze upon that Banner, and, touched
with commiseration at our sad condition,
she would tell us to look up and listen
while she whispers of the time when she
will return again and sweep with her fair
wings the dust from off its folds. Thus
hope cheers u3 amid the darkness of the
present hour. Yet, we should not rest
our hopes in chance or circumstance, but
in the providence of God. Though He
has chastened us sorely, let ns be
lieve it is in His mercy, for He chasteneth
those ho loveth. Let us bow in meek
humility while we look with the eye of
faith to the assurance, “He doeth all
tilings well ; let us seek the strength to
say, in all sincerity, “ Thy will be done.”
We know these things did not come
by chance, neither will the end come so,
for
“ There’s a divinity that shapes our end.--,
Rough hew them how we may.”
Oh ! my disconsolate countrymen, say
not that God has forsaken us, or that lie
does not rule our destiny *; or worse, that
in thus permitting our wicked and cruel
enemy to triumph over our weakness, he
is not just. It is ingratitude for his many
and unrivalled blessings to us in the Past,
and spurning his guidance for the Present.
So long as he showered his blessings upon
our lovely land, we were faithful and will
ing to acknowledge Him as the author
and founder of our glorious Republic ; but,
now that the cloud of adversity darkens
our land, wc turn from Him, and say, in
our hearts, that God remembers us no
more.
Oh ! inconsistency of man ; what God
has founded and instituted, will he not
faithfully guard? Yes; lie rules the
storm that is now raging over our coun
try, and if wc would look with the eye and
listen with the ear of faith, we could see
Him walking upon the graves, and hear
His pitying voice as He says to us, “ 13c
not afraid.”
All these things are for some good pur
pose, and God is using them as a means
to bring about some good and great end
in His dispensations. Though our mortal
eyes are so dim that we cannot sec it, and
in the midst of our calamities sometimes
wc almost lose sight of the assurance,
“All things arc for the best,” yet we
know that Jehovah guides and directs us.
If it rested in human power, or human
wisdom, we should despair ; but, so long
as a good, wise, and merciful God rules,
we can shut our eyes to the dark appear
ances, and feel that all is well. Let us
thus trust in Him, do our duty to our
selves and our country, and our beloved
South may again be a “ land of the free
and the home of the brave.”
Yet, it cannot be so now, lor the Pre
sent is dark indeed ; across it there beams
no ray of light. Then, for the present,
we must bid 1 are well to the Banner we
love. Though the tears we cannot sup
press will dim our eyes as we gaze upon
it for the last time, ere we hide it in ob
scurity, from the taunts and insults of its
enemies, yet, now we must lay it sadly
aside,
“ For there’s none left to hold it.
And the cold, dead hands that bon it,
Motionless are iu the and ist.”
I hen, farewell, for a while, our beauti
ful, beloved Banner. Though we fun
thee no more in the breeze, though the
thousands that once greeted thee with the
loud huzzah are scattered and slain ;
though now we must sadly furl time round
thy staff, we will never forget thee- -
“ For still we love thee,
Tlu ugh thy folds are iu the dust.”
3.1 ATTIE CIIAI WiA N ,
Jefferson, Ga.