Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

4 O F" .;. T H EEY. A. J. RYAN, Editor- AUGUSTA, GA., MAY 30,1868. THE DANGER OF THE REPUBLIC. The great danger of the Republic is its corruption. When men lose all re spect for honor and justice —when women lose all respect, for modesty and virtue — then, indeed, is the Republic in danger. In walls are cracked and tottering, its foundations are weak and shaking. Re inoralization, terrible and appalling, has followed the war, and society, in some parts of the country, at least, is shaken to its very centre. What must be the inevitable result ! The Republic must fall, and anarchy brood, vulture like’ above its unhappy ruins. What is the remedy ? Vice must be dethroned ; vir tue must resume its sway ; we must give God his place. In fine, we must go back to the early days of the country, when a Washington and a Carroll, bright exam plars that they were, shed their happy in tiuence around them, and gave honor and character to their native land. We must go back to the practises of those early days, when virtue and justice were honored and practised; when the corruptions of politics, and the corrup tions of fashion, and the corruptions of society generally, held no sway over the land, no place m the affections of the peo ple. We must go back to those days when the American flag was the emblem of a glorious land, a virtuous people, and an honest Government— not, as it is now, the ensign of tyranny, oppression and corruption. Then indeed, was this “Tlie land of the free and the home of the brave—” the home of the patriot, the statesman, and the sage, and well might its people be proud of the glorious title of “Ameri citizen.” But, unhappily, the evil days have come, the saddest of our history ; and corruption rules in the high places, while Tyranny crushes the life-blood out one portion of our unhappy country. Is this the destiny of that mighty Na tion, whose meteor flag once so proudly waved in every quarter of the habitable globe, but now droops dishonored and contemned, wherever Freedom and love for Right hold sway? Forbid it, Heaven! and grant that an awakening sense of patriotism and justice will bring back the happy days of yore, and make the Repub lic, what it once was, the pride and the boast of its people ! Without virtue, without honesty, without justice, Republicanism cannot exist. FLOWERS. Well may the poet sing the beauties of Nature, the artist paint her glories, and the sculptor snatch from the cold marble her fairest outlines. There is, indeed, so much to admire, so much to praise, so much to be thankful for in this world of ours. Its grand scenery, its towering mountains, its mighty cataracts, its pic turesque vales—its sweet scented and beautiful flowers. And yet we make it, by our own folly, a vale of tears. Yes, “Man’s inhumanity to man makes count ies millions mourn;” and the very beau ties and glories which surround us are made to minister to our evil passions, to our misery. In every age and every land love ior flowers exists. In eastern lands they ialk iu flowers ; they tell their loves and sorrows in flowers, and in each bud and blossom blooms a mystic language. So too, in our land, and in our day, they have their mute, but sweet significances. They decorate' the nail o: joy and enliven the scene oi revelry; they grace the fair form of the sweet young bride ; They ornament the peaceful little cottage: they soothe the captive’s cell ; tiny speak the language or’ affection; they g>ve pleasure to the eye ; they soften the heart ; they strew the bier, the tomb, the grave, and lie, so sweetly, so gently there, emblems of love, esteem and honor, for the dear ones sleeping in ifce dust. The modest Violet, the constant Sun-flower, the Queenly Rose, and all their lovely at tendants are the companions and the friends as it were of “God’s last best gilt to man.” They are her solace and her pleasure ; and where she, is flowers grow up and brighten, by their presence, happy homes. Let us cultivate the flowers. Let us in ike our homes boautiiul. Lot us make tli* m cheerful. As Mary Ilowitt so sweetly says : “Orod might have bade the earth bring forth Enough for great and small, The oak tree and the cedar tree, Without a flower at all. He might have made enough, enough For every want of ours, For luxury, medicine, and toil, And yet have made no flowers. Our outward life requires them not— Then wherefore have they birth. To minitser delight to man. To beautify the earth; To comfort man, to whisper hope. Where’er his faith is dim; For whoso caretli for the flowers, Will much more care for Him !" MAKE HOME ATTRACTIVE. “Home is the sphere of harmony and peace, The spot where angels find a resting place When, bearing blessings, they descend to earth.” There are few words in the English language more beautifully significant than the word “Home.” It is the poet’s theme and the painter’s subject. “Home, sweet Home,” is, or ought to be, the syn onym of a happy abode. Around it ought to cling affection’s sweetest memo ries, and Hope’s choicest anticipations But, alas 1 how few really happy Homes there are in this little world of ours. llow few there are who strive to make Home the most desirable place in the world 1 A Home on earth is, or ought to be, the symbol of that happy Home in the great Hereafter, where the Heavenly Father gives perfect and eternal happiness to those faithful children who dwell with him there. It ought to be, too, like the Oasis in the Desert—the green spot to which the weary traveller over Life’s burning sands can look back with affectionate re gret, or forward to with Joyous hope. Yes, we should all make Home happy, beauti ful desirable— “ Nor need we power or splendor— Wide Trail, or lordly dome, The good the true, the tender— These form the wealth of home.” But, alas! how we err in this regard ! How very many of those who, forsaking the path of religion and truth, hill by the wayside, owe their misfortune and misery to the neglect of parents to make Home the most beautiful, the most desirable of places! Here there are sour looks and cross words; there a child sent into the streets, or anywhere, to keep it from dis turbing its fond parents. Here there is no pleasant company, no music, no good books ; there there are no toys, no at tractions to make Home loveable. Here there is no religion, no morality ; there there is opprobrious and improper lan guage. In short, there is nothing to make Home attractive and desirable ; and so the poor children go into the streets and the by-ways, in search of recreation and pleasure, and are lost to God and to their country. They turn their backs upon the bleak homes, and upou all that is good, and go forth into the world im moral people and bad citizens. Oh, then, what a responsibity rests upon parents and guardians! What a duty is incumbent upon them to make home happy! Give your children good and beautiful books to read, give them toys and tools to play with, give them little parlor entertainments of magic lanterns or steroscopic views, give them music, en courage a taste for it in them, adorn your walls with chaste and elegant pictures, plant beautiful flowers around your dwell ings, and, above all, be kind and gentle to all “ihe loved ones at home.” If cares and troubles annoy you, keep your sadness for your private chamber. Hide your grief away from your fami lies. Be free and kindly familiar with ©i sifliS your children. Converse with them on subjects that will interest and instruct them. Be forbearing with them, and, while rigid in requiring them to do right, be patient with them when they err, and chide them in the spirit of love and kindness rather than in the spirit of anger and revea : And thus you will make home attractive, you will make it pleasant, you will make it happy. The atmosphere of love and religion which you have engendered there will wrap itself around the little ones, and keep them from error and cease to long for the company of the vicious, or sigh fur forbidden ; ‘ensures ; and when they go forth into the world to light, ihe great Battle of L ie, they will be clothed with the impenetrable armor j which their happy home has thrown j around them, while its sweet attractions will shine about them like a beacon light on a rock-bound coast, warning; them of the dangers which surround! them, and lighting them on to that happiest of Homes, where all is Love,! Goodness, and Bliss. And so yon will) be able to say, as Mrs. Hale sweetly’ sings : “My son, thou wilt dream the world is fair, And thy spirit will sigh to roam, And thou must go; but never when there Forget the light of home.” [Special Correspondence of tho Banner of the South.] I MEMORIAL DAY. MEMORIAL DAY IN CHARLESTON. The lOth of May is the day set apart by j the Ladies’ Memorial Association of this! city, to decorate tho graves of the Con" federate Dead, but the 10th falling on Sunday this year, the ceremony was per formed on the 9th, at Magnolia Ceme tery, where repose six hundred “martyrs to a fallen cause.” Long before the ap pointed time, thousands were seen wend ing their way to the Cemetery—most of them bearing wreaths and crosses. The day was lovely, with just sufficient clouds to temper the rays of the sun. Heaven seemed to smile on this most touching ceremony. The foliage of the trees whose waving branches shield the last resting place of our honored dead from the rude winds, presented a most brilliant appearance ; and the sweet caroling of the feathered songsters was in unison with the solemnity of the scene. There were but few present who uid not mourn some relative who fell “on the Held of battle gory.” One mother rapid ly approaching the verge of eternity, wept for her brave boy, who, at the break ing out of the war, bid adieu to home and all its endearing associations, to join the army in Virginia. Reminiscences of “things that were” rise up in her troubled brain; she remembers the day of his departure, and the reluctance with which she let him go —the cause alone consoling her. We hear a great deal of Spartan courage; it was commendable, but not more so than the heroism of this brave boy, who returned “on his shield” from the luckless field of Gettysburg. An aged and feeble father knelt at the grave of his only son, refreshing the thirst ing earth with his tears. This youth joined the Army of the West, and followed its varying fortunes until severely wounded in the sanguinary struggle which swept from the galaxy of that army such stars as Cleburne, Adams, Stahl, Gist, and Granbury, and which struck the key note to the dirge of our reverses. After a prayer, and the singing of a hymn composed for the occasion, the Ladies’ Memorial Association (to whose patriotic zeal we owe the handsome ap pearance of the lot, they having had it enclosed with a beautiful hedge of ever greens, and each grave marked with a small marble head-stone, with the name of the deceased, his company and regiment, inscribed thereon,) commenced the task of decorating the graves, by placing upon each one of them a wreath and cross Among the tenants of this habitation of the dead are a number from Georgia, whose heroic achievements gave additional eclat to the siege of Charleston, and as sisted in making Secessionville, Battery Wagner, and Sumter, what they are— monuments of Carelina’s valor. There are many soldiers buried out side of what is known as the “Confederate lot”—such gallant spirits as Captain Boag, Shubrick, Hayne, Alfred Pinckney, Patrick Ifalleran, Samuel Wigg, Edwin Du Bose, Captain John Mitchell, and many others. Their graves were well cared for— relatives and friends decorated them. There were none to lay a floral offering on Captain Mitchell's grave, but the fairest of Carolina’s daughters strewed wreaths of roses and immortelles, over the last resting place of this noble son of a noble sire, whose chivalric courage and heroic death stamped him as one of the noblest heroes of ihe “Lost Cause.” His memory is as verdant in the hears of our people, as are the green hills and valleys of his native land. Among the dead in St. Lawrence (Catholic) Cemetery, arc two who deserve more than passing notice. Capt. William 11. Ryan fell at the head of his company (Irish Volunteers,) in a counterattack on the enemy at Battery Wagner. “He charged unto the front, and foremost fiflht iniT fell ” Ask any member of the 1L In O * Regiment, S. C. \ , who Captain Ryan was ? you will be. told that he was one of the bravest of the brave. Young, gifted, handsome, he displayed the most sublime courage, and, like his worthy Brother, D. J. Ryan, killed at Gettysburg, the same week, offered up his life as a holocaust on the altar of his country. Lawrence .Burns, died from disease contracted while j with his regiment (“sth S. C. A ~) around j Petersburg, The commencement of hos tilities found him a mere youth, but, when his State required the services of her sons, he rallied to her rescue. Lis youth and delicate frame sank under the ardor of his patriotism. He remembered the reply of the Spartan mother to her son, when lie complained of his sword being too short: “ Add a step to it.” Unflinching resolution imparted strength, and in camp, on the tiresome march, in the cheerless bivouac, and in battle, he was a most exemplary soldier. The fortitude and valor he displayed was grand, but the weary marches and bloody engagements, during the memorable campaign of 1864, so greatly impaired Lis constitution (always feeble,) that lie was sent home. I remember having met him just after his return, and shall never forget his anxiety to rejoin his regiment, though you could trace death in every lineament of his face, lie ended life’s pilgrimage ere it had hardly commenced. His parents and friends had the melancholy satisfac tion of seeing him v ield up his young spirit. His last earthly gaze rested on the lace of his affectionate father, his fond mother and loving sister. On leaving the Cemetery, 1 met a mother who did not have the consolation of decorating the grave of her “ beautiful and brave” boy ; though none in this vast legion of honor is more entitled to a wreath of immortelles than Sergt. John Menude, of the 27th S. C. Y., who died in one of the dreary chambers of a prison hospital, from the effects of wounds re ceived in Virginia. Father Ryan’s touch ing lines beautifully describe this gallant boy: “ Young as the youngest that donned the grey; True ub the truest that wore it; Brave as the bravest that marched away , (Hot tears on the cheek of his mother lay.) Triumphant waved our flag one day, He fell in the front before it.” Survivor. IN JACKSON, TENX. A lady friend writes to us from Jackson, Tenn., under date of May 13th, and says : Dear Sir: I read, with pleasure, an extract from your excellent paper, cen suring the fathers, brothers, and sons, of the South for their lately acquired piety, and total forgetfulness of the fact that thousands of our martyred braves fell on Sunday. Your remarks did not apply to us. The citizens of our little city turned out en masse on the 26th inst, and decorated the graves of our dear dead who were known to us, and of the strangers who were so unfortunate as to fall in our midst. Also, on the 10th of this month, we as sembled at the Cemetery, and after an eloquent and appropriate address by Rev. Egbert Osborne, we decorated with May’s fairest flowers, a cenotaph erected to the memory of the Dead of our county.” [From the Pf-t< raburg Express-;.] MEMORIAL DAY IN PETERSBURG The following was crowded out of ~m . last issue, owing to the pressure on on r columns: Mr. Editor At your request f f ur . nisli you with some additional items for your columns, not so much for cu ■ own people,'who had the opportunity tu wit ness the touching scene ot the 10 rh, when the graves ot seven hundred d< ad wf*rc* fragrant with the incense of fl iwers, heaped upon them by loving friends, but for distant friends I writ- The.* floral tribute was generous, was Lviff. and although many of <ur ov-» bmp., contributed, some of thorn lav<*(>jy ( < were it m-t invidious 1 worth! nauii* them,) yet tli* * greater parr esp- cial:v the rare flowers, was the wff ! ->•mb s contribution of distant friends. T » Mrs. Gem Matt. Ransom, Miss Persons. Mrs. Moody, of Halifax, the ladles of ! ; rnt ville, through Mrs. Hilliard, of Danville, through Mrs. Holland, Mrs. Bracken Wilson, and Mrs. Col mm! Chain bless, of Greenville, and our friends in Enfield, N. 0.. in the name of many be reaved Southern hearts, would re I urn our most grateful thanks. V e must ask Jor giveness of our dear co-laborers tor quoting from Utters responding to our own. One says : “It is with inexpressi ble pleasure, 1 respond to your appeal in behalf of our fallen b roes. As the wife of a soldier, 1 can surely appreciate the feelin<rs with which a sorrowing wkLw would cover the grave ot her loved one with the sweet flowers of Spring, and I have only to look at my boys to under stand the sweet consolation it must be to the bereaved mother or sister, to deck -he young heroes’ graves with ail that is bright and beautiful. And this is all we can do to immortalize their memory. ' Another writes : “Do not think from the limited supply of flowers that we send, that love for cur dead is on the wane with us ; such is not the ease, and Was the supply at all commensurate will; our affection, not one of the hallowed mounds, where sleep our 1 raves, shuiiM be left undecorated. * * *” Though small the offering, the- 1. arts that offer it, are warm and true, cli -ri !;- ingthe memory of each fallen Confederate with fondest affection, and ready and willing to do all in their power to aid in such labors of love. The following touch ing address will speak for itself : “To the ladies of the Memorial Asso ciation of the City of Petersburg, this humble offering is contributed by four ladies, two gentlemen, and two children, of Enfield, N. C. Had the notice of the acceptability or need of flowers reach and ns sooner, this contribution would have been much larger. The profound sym pathy of our hearts is with you in your sacred celebration. The leaves and fiov/em which you strew, like all earthly thing-, will fader but in our hearts, as in your;-, the memory of our precious dead will ever be sweet and fadeless.'' This accompanied a large ba>ket of th choicest flowers, most tastily arranged into bouquets. We ask for the names of our kind friends. A servant woman walked four miles to bring us a basket of How : - the contribution of a lady from Philadel phia, now residing in Chesterfield, w.i , this note : “Mrs. M, whose gallant m ph • were stationed around Petersburg, and fell in defence of their country, pr< -ants this floral contribution to the ladies of the Memorial Association of Petersburg. A sorrowing mother of Charles, n. who had visited us in the vain search ior the grave of her son, thus writes : “On last Saturday, the 9th, the graves of our Confederate dead, buried in Mag nolia Cemetery, were decorated. It brought to mind the distant, lonely, and unknown grave of my darling child. My heart is too full for utterance.” A week previous the grave of an “i o known,” had been selected ben< ath ae shade of two cedars, turfed and adopted for his, with the resolve, that the -d should be kept green upon ir, and the best flowers of spring should memorialize that mother's tender, sacred love. Will our dear friends, who have tliu.- aided us, accept this as an ackimwledg ! merit of their hearty sympathy and co operation ? Would that we had leisure to return special thanks. For the so filing ot the graves, and the neat ujq > araine ot the grounds, we are, as usuai, dak ■- ! ed to our indefatigable friend, Mr. V. -■ ward Spottswood, aided by Mr. Jas Lee: to both of the Express Compauk s, ffr multiplied favors; to Mo. J. T. Morris for transportation and a had.: to oui ever kind railroad officials; to ourciu editors and printers; and lust, ik u_ • nut least, to our gifted citizen, Mr Gen I H. Venable, for his touching and i nano | ful poem; to one, to all, who in any v. ; | aided our holy cause, we, as the • ouum j tee of Bethel Cemetery, return our hear I felt thanks. Mrs. J M. Wy< h: Mrs. G. Harris, ! Mrs. F. Battk.