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[For the Banner of the South.] Wrecked. BY MOINA. The winds are sounding a death-knell Out on the sea to-night, The sky is dark, and many a bark That sailed froai harbors bright; Like many a ship before, Shall enter port no more, And a wreck shall drift to some lonely shore, Before to-morrow’s light. The clouds are hanging a death-pall Over the sea to-night, The stars are veiled—and the hearts that sailed Away from harbors bright, Shall sob their last for their far-offhome, And, pulseless, lie ’neath the cold, white foam, Before the morning’s light. The waves are weaving a death-shroud, Out on the sea to-night; And many a prayer is whispered there By lips with terrors white; But swiftly, 'mid the gloom, The wild waves ply their loom; God help the souls that will meet their doom Before the dawn of light. * * * * * * * The winds are singing a Joy-song. Out on the Sea to-day; The storm is hushed, and the waves are flushed With the gold of the Morning’s ray; And the sleepers sleep, but beyond the deep The eyes, that watch for the ships, shall weep For the hearts they bore away. Avgusta, June 26. THE HALLS OF TARA. BY RICHARD FAULKNER. There is deep pathos, in the deep lines of Thomas Moore, as lie sings, in words that burn like diamond sparks, of the Halls of Tara. To its sweetness and sadness, every Irish heart must respond ; at least, every one to which tradition has sent down this solemn charge to “remem ber the glories of Brian the Brave” For it was in those very halls that the good old king, Brian Borohme, of Muns ter, received the homage of his bitterest enemy, Malacbi, King' of Meath. Within sight of Tara’s loftiest hill, two fierce and passionate men had fought for su preme power. Both were brave, both ambitious ; but Brian’s genius and talent enlisted ardent supporters, and the con test ended in victory to him. Under his peaceful, and gentle sway, Ireland prospered as it never had pros pered before. Peace and plenty were in the land. The convents, that had been nearly destroyed by the half-save North ern men, as well as the strong-holds of the country, were acquired during his reign ; and Ireland had her palmiest days in that period of the tenth century. For nearly a quarter of a century, the country was quiet beneath that gentle sway ; but then there was thrown into it, the root of bitterness. Two Kings—the King of Dublin, and the King of Leins ter—-joined together in making an incur sion into the Kingdorit of Meath, for predatory purposes. This unlooked for outrage woke up the lion heart of Brian. His son, Donough Borohme, who inherit ed his father’s brave qualities, was dispatched at once to Leinster, at the head of a large force, and there seemed no doubt that the enemy would be speedily quelled. Indisputably, it would have resulted thus, had it not been for the traitorous conduct of some of the good old King’s own followers. Sick at heart, yet still as brave and unflinching as ever, he rode through the ranks, bearing aloft the sa cred Cross, exhorting the remnant of his soldiers to strike home for the faith. Os all the Miltsian chiefs, none presents a more powerful and striking picture to the imagination, than this grav-haired old man, calling upon his childrento fight for the religion of the Saints. That still state ly form, the unwithered hand clasping the Crucifix, fixed the eyes of the little hand, and Brian almost believed that they could win the victory even now. He never flagged for an instant, until the flight shadows began to close around. Then, spent and exhausted, some of his old warriors assisted him to his tent, aud he left the result to his young and va liant soldiers, headed by his son. It was indeed a victory ; but scaerciy had the welcome shouts from Brian’s own troops announced the fact, than his privacy was invaded by a struggling party, whose leader had sworn to avenge his defeat upon the good old King. For this purpose, they pursued their wa y to his tent, where they found him npoa his knees at prayer. The first note of conquest had drawn away his compan ions, and the King was left alone. Alone, hot for the presence of a boy, scarcely more than a little child, who had clung to him as to a father. Even then, the slight arms were about his neck as he prayed, and his prayers were echoed by as sweet a voice as ever came from hu man lips. Alas! what availed that child ish clasp beiore the terrors of the savage intruders! Mounded and bleeding, Bri nn fell beneath the furious stabs that pierced that noble heart, in vain the terrified boy shrieked for aid. In vain his slight hand clasped the handle of Bri an’s ponderous sword, as if to draw it upon his murderers. One fell purpose filled their revengeful breasts, and they neither saw nor heard the puny stripling, who dared to screen their victim from their rage. The body fell to the ground with a dull thud, that struck terror to the child’s bosom. His protector, his second father, was no more—the lion heart had broken! At this moment of extreme pain, and grief to the boy, Donough Borohme, the conquerer, rushed into the tent. With a wail that might almost have wakened the dead, lie knelt beside the bleeding body of his father, and his K ing. He saw notiiing, felt nothing, but that a murder er’s hand had stricken down the noble old warrior, until the boy crept round and laid His cold and trembling hand upon his shoulder. “Ivar, my darling! are you here, too? What terrible fate led you to this scene ? And how did you escape that savage horde ?” “I was praying beside him when they came, and they were too mad with rage to notice me.” “0 my child! what an escape you have had. I must take you away before they return.” And sounding a silver bugle that hung at his belt, his brave soldiers soon tilled the tent. “Look!” he exclaimed, “look here, brave souls! and see the price of our vic tory,” They knelt down, and each one touched the bloody vestments of the dead, and swore eternal hate to the murderers. One lingered long, and gazed sadly on the calm, white face. “They broke the noblest heart that ever beat, my comrades!” he said, as he arose from his knees. Solemn obsequies indeed, were those of King Brian. Not a soldier in the army that did not drop a tear over the glorious dead; not a heart that did not sorrow most of all, that they could see his face no more. The flower of Erin’s chivalry lay there withered. The purest and grandest heart of all the Milesian chiefs was lying low, its pulses stilled forever. But dearly as Donough Borohme had loved the father and his King, bitterly as he wailed for his terrible death, there was a balm for his griefs, a consolation for all his sorrows, in the pure, unworldy love of the little page, who had witnessed the dreadful scene of King Brian’s death. He bore him to his beautiful home without any* suspicion on the part of the soldiers who accompanied him, that the boy was other than he seemed. Once safe within the walls, the page was never again seen ; but a gentle little lady, who might easily have passed as his sister, with the same Moorish tint in lip and cheek, sat at Donough’s board, nestled close beside him. “Men called her angel, but lie called her wife.” Dearer by far, because she bad seen the brave old warrior die; had prayed all night in his father’s lonely tent; she was the only woman lie ever loved. The secret of her birth, and the place where they found her secreted, was only known to the good old King Brian, and his son. For many years the child had dwelt in the castle, arrayed in the dress of a page, lest by wearing the clothes of her sex, she might be spirited away by the people wild bad held her in bondage, and who might recognize her. When Brian and Donough went to battle, she begged, with many tears, to accomapny them ; and the King at last consented to her going, provided she would promise never to de sert his camp, where lie would leave a faithful servant in charge of her. Here, then, the girl passed the lonely days in tears, and prayers for those she loved. Here, on bended knees, she suppli cated the God of battles, all through that dreary night, guarded by the soldier who was never to leave her alone for a mo ment, and who well fulfilled the trust. And here Brian found her, when he re turned, a conqueror, alas! for a brief moment, in which the dark eyes had hard ly time to recover their look of sunny gladness, ere she saw him ruthlessly mur dered before her agonized gaze. Donough’s friends hoped that the sov ereignty would be tendered to him, as his father’s successor; but had he wished it, there were too many whom Malachi had won over to his side; and almost be fore Brian's ashes were cold, his rival re-ascended the throneof death; while Do nough retired to his castle among the hills of Munster, with his beautiful bride. Brian bad named the little fondling lyar, after one of the three famous sea kings ; and she would not now relinquish the name so endeared to her by remem brance. They were married on the very night of their return, and, from this time, she ceased to fear the persecution of the iocs of her childhood. Absorbed in the low ot her husband, life became to her as one long summer day. Simple as a cot- ■MBiiB m mi wmm. tage girl, she could be as queenly as any of the consorts of neighboring Kings, when stateliness demanded it of her. She was worthy of her high estate—worthy to be the mother of Kings, but fate decreed otherwise. Malac-hi, King of Meath, was a brave man ; but a King, more powerful than himself, conquered him at last—the King of Terrors. He died in 1022 ; and Do nough should have succeeded him to the Kingdom. But his right was once more opposed. This time, Donough’s heart was interested in the conquest, and he fought like a lion for his right. He was Brian Borohme’s heir—“ Brian terrible in battle, wise in counsel,” a man who had stood, head and shoulders above every Irish King that had been born for cen turies. It was the bitterness of death to him—this defeat—for defeat came. He grew" morbid—almost insane under the blow. Sad and depressed, be walked the solitary rooms of the castle, unheed ing that Ivar sat alone in her chamber, aw’aiting the advent of his child. She heard the sound of his footsteps tramping the stone floors, and shuddered to find that even her tenderness had no balm for his wounded spirit. Midnight came, but the unquiet soul kept the body restless, and still the foot steps sounded beneath her. In that dark hour, her child’s brief life came and went; and its beautiful mother never saw the light of morning upon the earth. Fully awakened by his double loss, the unhappy King resigned himself to despair. He hung wildly over the beautiful remains of the mother and child, perfectly distract ed with grief and anguish. For days, lie kept them from burial, and would not be persuaded that they could not be restored to life. At length, when decay touched the sweet faces with its effacing finger, he resisted no longer. The next day after the mournful burial he resigned his kingdom, and went out an exile from the home of his fathers, to wander awav in foreign lands. The heaths of Ireland felt his springing footsteps no more. Life was hateful to one who had given up wife, child, and kingdom, in a single day. Wandering thus, he chanced to seat himself one day, near the gate of a convent. The cool, gray walls seemed to woo the sufferer reposing in their shad ow. Next to death, the convent seemed to hold a place of rest for the weary; and he rang the convent bell, and was ad mitted. Lonely and silent—never speak ing to the brothers, and holding slight communion with the head of the monas tery, he lived years in the performance of his duties as one of the order, yet so mechanically that one would have said there was no heart in that thin body—no central fires in that dumb soul. It was a day in summer; so bright, so beautiful, with the blue? sky bending so loving above, and the emerald grass lying so quietly beneath, that earth seemed as lovely as Heaven. A quiet graveyard it was, where the sunshine kissed the grass, and the shadow of tall trees lay over an open grave. Presently there came down the pathway from the convent, a long pro cession of monks, bearing a bier. Suddenly, from the little chapel, there arose upon the summer air a chant so sweet, yet so heart-breaking in its sweet ness, that the very birds hushed their mid-summer carols to listen. Nearer and nearer “charging the deep cedars with all mournful chords,” until the long troop of mourners stopped beside the still grave. The bier was lowered, and the face of the dead gleamed up white, yet with a Heavenly serenity, that told of in effable grace. A solemn burial service succeeded, and then arose a strain so grand, so joyful, so expressive of a sub lime hope, and triumph beyond that low grave, that it seemed almost to be the departing spirit upon its power ana might. When all was over, and the procession wound through the over-shadowed path way, on its way back, one who stood near asked the grave-digger whom he was in terring there? “He was brother Adrian—God rest his soul!” said the old monk, devoutly T cross ing himself. “Didyou know his name in the world? ” “What matters,” rejoined the monk. “I only know that there he lies.” “But I know. He was a King—almost a demigod. He was the brave son of the Irish king, the good Brian Borohme Father and son—both murdered. Truly may you say, “God rest that tempest tossed, world-tried soul.” Another spadeful of earth, and the face of Donough Borohme was hidden from the light of day ; but we know that in the Heavenly kingdom, its likeness is shining in the Archangel’s face, with a light that shall not grow dim through all cternity r . A kiss has been defined as a flower that blossoms all the year round, and whose sweetness depends upon its gratui tous giving. IMEAB.B.Z2QD. At the residence of the bride’s father, in this Citron Thursday, June 25th, 1868. by the Rev. Mr. Patillo, F. R. Gilbert, Esq., of Stamford, New York, aud Miss Josephine V. Crockeii, daughter of Joim L. and Eliza" betli Crocker, of Augusta, Ga. No Cards. New York papers please copy. At the Catholic Church, in this City, on Sunday, June 28th, 1868, by the Rev. J. F. Kirby, Daniel C. Murphy, and Miss Kate R. Vaugiian, all of this city. No Cards. OBITUARY. One by one the good and the true men pass away, but the memories of their virtues remain. On the 4th of June, at the advanced age of 82, in the City of Au gusta, MR. BENJAMIN PICQUET passed from this to a better life. A native of Rennes, France, he came to this country during the French Revolution, at the close of the last century. From Charleston, where he landed, he removed to Washington, Wilkes co., and there resided until 1800, when he removed to this city, where, up to the day of his death, with a a few inter vals of absence, he resided. He was once here a dis tingViished merchant, and ever enjoyed a high and well deserved reputation. His was an integrity rare and above reproach. Quiet in manners, full of charity—a pure and devoted Christian, he won the respect of all, the love of many—the hatred of none. An angelic in fant, JOSEPH, sou of Mr. and Mrs. H. W. Carr, and dearly beloved by the aged man, preceded him, by only a few days, to the brighter world; and another angelic child, CECILIA, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. A. D. Picquet, followed him not many days after. Crowned with the virtues of his 82 years—strengthen ed by the Sacraments of his Mother Church—perfectly resigued, with the light of a Catholic’s hope on his face, he quietly passed away, leaving an affectionate wife, two devoted daughters, two sons, and a brother, and many dear friends to weep aud to mourn his passing away, to imitate his virtues, and to treasure his memory. May he rest in peace. AID VER TISEM ENTS. Gio-PKomL^ Advertisements forwarded to all Newspapers. No advance charged on Publishers’ prices. All leading Newspapers kept on file. Information as to Cost of Advertising furnished. All Orders receive careful attention. Inquiries by Mail answered promptly. Complete Printed Lists of Newspapers for sale. Special Lists prepared for Customers. Advertisements Written and Notices secured. Orders from Easiness Men especially solicited. jyi-iy NEW SPRING- DRY GOODS. James A. ©ray <k Cos., 228 BROAD STREET, AUGUSTA, GEO., Bog to inform the public that they are now receiving THE LARGEST SPRING STOCK OF STaPJOE FANCY DRY CiOOXJS Which have been received at this Establishment for the past twenty years. These Goods have been purchased EXCLUSIVELY FOR CASH from the most eminent Importers of the United States, from the Manufacturers’ Agents direct, and in large quantities from the recent celebrated Auction Sales ordered by Messrs. Beukard & Hutton, one of the very largest Importing Houses in New York Having full access to the very best Houses in the world, and purchasing side by side with the largest Jobbers in the United States, we can confidently and truthfully assure our friends that WE CAN SUPPLY THEIR DEMANDS FOR DRY GOODS, EITHER AT WHOLESALE OR RETAIL, AS CHEAP AS THEY CAN PURCHASE THE SAME IN NEW YORK. Merchants visiting the city, will please make a note of this fact, examine our assortment, and judge for themselves. We would respectfully invite the closest examination of both style® and price. JAMES A. GRAY k CO., apll 228 Broad Street. J. J. BROWNE, GILDER AND PICTURE FRAME MANUFACTURER, 135 Broad Street, Augusta, Ga. Old natures and Looking-Glass Frames Regilt. Oil Paintings Restored, Lined and Varnished. my3o—ly fSPKINU 18(18. THE OLD AND KELLABLE HOUSE OF GRAY & TURLEY, AUGUSTA, CPA.., Is always prepared to offer to the public, at wholesale and retail, a thoroughly complete assortment of STAPLE GOODS, —ALSO — British French and Swiss Dress floods^ CLOTHS, CASSIMERES, CLOAKS, SHAWLS, EMBROIDERIES, LACES, HOSIERY, nOOP SKIRTS, NOTIONS, Ac., kc. mh2l tl O’Dewd & ftXulherin, GROCERS AND COMMISSION MERCHANTS, No. 283 Broad Street, AUGUSTA, GA,, HAVE ON HAND A FULL STOCK OF SUGAR, COFFEE , TEA S, SOAP, STARCH, CANDLES, fe&TOBACCO, LIQUORS, SEGARS, BA CON, LARD, FLOUR, AND EVERY THING Usually kept in a Wholesale and Retail Grocery. PRICES AS LOW AS TIIE LOWEST. Kenny & Gray, ISo. 238 Broad Street, DEAI.LKB IN READY-MADE CLOIIUNG, CLOTHS, CASSIMERES AND VESTINGS, GENTS’ FURNISHING GOODS OF ALL KINDS, And everything usually kept in a First-Class Clothing and Tailoring Establishment. An examination of their splendid stock is cor dially invited. Augusta, March 21, 1868. ts SPECIAL NOTICE. STEEL AMALGAM BELLS. Every School and Plantation should have one. Will sell those now on hand cheap. Those desiring to purchase will do well to call soon. Price, complete, from $7 to £lO. P. MALONE, Augusta Foundry and Machine Works. 1868 ‘ * my3o—tf Augusta Foundry AND MACFI IN K WOR KS. WRIGHT k ALLUM’S IMPROVED COTTON SCREWS, GIN GEAR, SUGAR BOILERS, SUGAR MILLS, [GUDGEONS, ALARM BELLS, AND ALL KINDS OF CASTINGS, DONE AT SHORT NOTICE. HIGHEST PRICE PAID FOR OI.D MACHINERY IRON, BRASS AND COPI ER. PHILIP MALONE. mh2l ts AGENTS WANTED FOR THE fLIFE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS, By FRANK 11. ALFRIEND, of Richmond. This is the only full, authentic and OFFICIAL history of the Life aud Public services of the great Southern leader. Mr. Alfriend lias had the co-opera tion and assistance of the leading Confederate officials in the preparation of this work, as will bo apparent to all on examination. Send for specimen pages and cir culars, with terms. Address NATIONAL PUBLISH ING 00., Atlanta, Ga. my9—G GREENBRIER WHITE SULPHUR SPRINGS, Greenbrier County, West Virginia. The undersigned, Lessees of tins OLD and WF.LL KNOWN WATERING I RACE, Announce that, encouraged by the liberal patronage received last season, they have largely add* and to tin i; accommodations, in comfort and appearance, and are prepared to entertain FIFTEEN HUNDRED GUESTS. TII E BA T 111 N G A C COMMODATIONS ARE IN FINE ORDER. HOT AND WARM SULPHUR BATHS, So eminently efficacious in many cases, are at the command of visitors, at all hours. In addition to other amusements, they have provided anew and elegant BOWLING ALLEY AND BILLIARD ROOM, CONVENIENTLY LOCATED. PROFESSOR ROSENBERG’S CELEBRATED FULL BRASS BAND, Has been engaged for the season A GOOD LIVERY STABLE YTII be kept on the premises. The completion of the Virginia Central Railroad to Covington leaves only twenty miles staging, through a beautiful mountain country over a well graded turn pike. T©nns" $3 per Day and SBQ per fyiorrth. Children under ten years of age, and colored ser vants, half price. White servants according to accom modations. [mylC-lml PEYTON & CO. 3