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TURN WOLD, GA„ NOVEMBER 24, 1862.
The Originals.
In the last issue of The Countryman,
the yankee teacher referred to at the close
of the instalment of The Old Plantation
for that issue, is Wm. H. Seward. In the
instalment for this issue, all will recognize
the Rev. Wm. Arnold as the original of
the pastor of the country church.
The camp-meeting orator finds his origi
nal in Bishop Capers, when a young man.
The picture of his eloquence is not over
wrought. At an early age, he preached
at the old Putnam camp-ground, where Dr.
Johnson lived, and the effect of his elo
quence was almost miraculous.
It is related of Bossuet that on one oc
casion, while preaching, so powerful was
the effect of his oratory, that one fine
flight of eloquenee brought his whole au
dience, involuntarily, to their feet. It is
certainly true, as stated in the poem, that
the eloquence of Bishop Capers struck
many of his hearers to the ground. On
one occasion, while preaching at the Put
nam camp ground, his subject was some of
the passages in Revelation. He was pro-
nouncing the woe pronounced in that book.
Said he, in a voice all but omnipotent, after
rousing his hearers to the highest pitch,
“Woe ! woe ! woe unto the inhabitants of
the earth !” As he denounced sin in suc
cessive brilliant flights, he eaeh time wound
up with “Woe! woe! woe unto the in
habitants of the earth.” As I have said,
the effect was almost miraculous. It. struck
terror into every bosom, and apalled the
stoutest heart. One poor fellow, a tailor,
livingin Eatonton, became a raving maniac,
fled to the woods, and cried in frenzied
madness, “Woe! woe! woe unto the in
habitants of the earth !”
This is a passage in the life of Bishop
Capers which has never had justice done
it. I expected to find it fully developed
in Wightman’s Life of Capers, hut was
disappointed. Living at the spot which
witnessed all the fiery eloquence of the
youthful Capers, and among surviving old
inhabitants who felt the power of that elo
quence, I shall attempt, in some future
number of The Countryman, to make an
extended record of the whole matter.
letter from Mrs. Poke.
Mr. Countryman Josiph anlismade
frens, and I nr got an eppintment. The
uther day as I was a passm along by the x-
ecutiv oflis, a gwine up towards the legisla
tor rooms, f seed Josiph a standin by the
dore of his offie, an he lookt as sorry, an
>vo-begone, an penitenshal as ever you seed.
THE COUNTRYMAN.
I walkt rite on, an made out I didn’t see
him : for you no I rit you that he an I
hadn’t been on speakin tnrms sence Gus
Kinion, an Jinkins an them tore me away
frum him. As I was a passin on, Josiph
sez, “ Good mornin, aunt Sally,” sez he, fa
miliar, like he used to, and then he bust out
a cryin. I was as sorry for the pore chile
as I could be : but 1 didn’t let on like I
was, but drawd myself up with dignity an
sez, “ Good mornin Mr. Brown.” At that
word Mr., Josiph cried wus an wus, for he
x-pekted me to call him Josiph, familiar,
jest like I used to : an I yearnt to do it, too :
but when you hav a diffikilty with anybody,
an they makes offers to make it up, hit
aint best to kum into it too reddily : for ef
you duz, they mite think you was beholden
to 'em. So I korncluded to hold off, jest a
leetle, an I dun it.
I seed sumthinin the news papers tother
day about Mr. McClellan cryin when Mr.
Burnside kum to releeve him of Ins kum-
mand on the Purtomuc, an they sed how
the teers korsed down his classic feechers,
an they rit a powerful -fctwdo about it. Now
ef they had jest a seed the tears korsein
down Josiph’s classic feechers, they wood
never a lit ennything about Mr. McClellan,
hut. wood a sent an artis all the way frum
Nu Yawk, under a flag of trooce, jest to git
a pictur of Josiph’s feechers fur ther illus
trated jurnals. I tell you, they was sub
lime.
Josiph seed I was relentin, and axed me
to walk in ; and so I walked in, and he
started to sliet the core. Sez I, “ Josiph,”
sez I, “ you mustn’t: that is nobody here
but you an me : an hit mout creeS scandil.”
Then the guvner sez, “ Aunt Sally, thar
is no danger of scandil : my name’s Jo*
siph : an I aint no Methodis neither.” An
at this he smiled through his tears, like he
tliort he had roe, in this insinewashun agin
my dernominashun. But, I paid no atten-
sliun to his insinewashun, an made out like
1 didn’t beer it, for I node thar was sum-
times, occashunally, wunst in awhile, sum
trooth in it, an its best sumtimes to ignore
the trooth.
Well I walkt in, as I was a sayin, an
tuck my sect, an woodn’t allow the dore to
he shet entirely , but left open a leetle crack
for me to peep outen, for I’m always gwine
to obsarve the proprieties of life.
When I had got seated, Josiph he sot
down by me, an sez, “ Aunt Sally,” sez he,
“ I’m sorry I got mad with you the other
day. But you ort not to blame me. I’ve
tride so hard to hav an army under my
kommand, so as I cood gain some military
reputashun as well as otherwise, an this
kornscrip biziness nocked my chance so hi,
In this regard, that I coodn’t help gittin
mad, sum, when you declared it kornstitu-
slmnal, an espeshally when I had rit 500
yards, lackin a fue inches, agin it. As I
was a sayin, aunt Sally, l got mad with
you on this akkount, but I am now truly
sorry for it, an axes your pardin. I fine I
kant git along with the affars of the state
without yore kounsel an advice.”
Sayiit this, he boohood rite out, an stall
ed to fling himself rite on my boosom. But
I tole him I reckona he had better knot.
Then I spoke up, and sez, “ Josiph,” sez I,
“ you ortn’t to git mad with yore aunt Sal
ly, no time : for what she duz, she duz it
all for yore good. You must always re
member that you cant git along with the
affars of the state without yore aunt Sally :
an espeshally is this so sence you hav korn
cluded to depose yore kozzin Jeff, an assume
the ranes of the koinfederit as well as the
state guvuinment. Yore aunt Sally’s ad
vice is more necessary to you now than
ever.”
“ But oh ! Lord,” sez Josiph, “ how ken
I bar to lose the chance of winnin military
reputashun, an hav no army under my
kimman V’
At this I seed what was a workin on
Josiph’s mine, an I node he was a cryin
more on akkount of losin his gineral’s eppy-
lets than he was on akkount of axin my
pardon. But I didn’t let on that I seed his
motives : for it is policy, sumtimes, to make
out you don’t see things.—An about this
time a blight idee struck me, an I sez—
Sez I, “ Josiph,” sez 1, “ aint yon sent in
a speslial messij to the legislatin' about cal-
it out the merlishy to defen the koste agin
yankee gun-botes 1”
Sez he “ I is that.”
“ Well,” sez I, ‘‘ ef you hadn’t got mad
with yore aunt Sally, an had konsulted her
on the suhjic afore you went off half-cock
ed, I cood hav dijested a better plan for
you than the one you have got on yore mine.
I no it requires the stummock of an ostrich
to dijest the merlishy, but your aunt Sally
are addequit to the occaslnin.”
At this Josiph britened up mitely, an ax
ed me ef it war too late for my plan to
work. I told him it war not.
Sez I, “ you want an army : you want
to call out the merlishy. Jest trust all that
to me. Git rite stiate up, an rite a com-
mishum, appintiti roe riiajor-gineral.”
The guvnei hizitated a little, an I seed
what wargoin on in his mine. So sez I, “ef
you don’t do jest as I tell yon, I will forsake