Newspaper Page Text
>ol*lll. Georgian.
■
- ■**" AT BELLTON, GA.,
BY JOHN BL ATS.
Terms—sl.oo per annum; 50 cents for
six months; 25 cents for three months.
Parties away tconi Belltonnrereonested
k ,o send the with Ml< |, amounts «>f
as tMy can spare. ft,.in 25c. to sl.
K —■= —-———- -
CHURCH DIRECTORY.
Baptist Cm R£u—Rev E S V Briant,
Pastor. Preaching every third Saturday
and Sunday. Prayer meeting Friday m’-ht
in every week. Sunday-school at 9 a'no
every Sunday.
Methodist Chi »( H—Rev L P Winter.
Pastor. Preaching every fourth Satnrdav
and Sunday. Prayer meeting every Tlnits
dny n»ght. Sunday-school at 2j p m evorv
Sunday.
I‘ EV ,F & V Briant's Appointments —
r irst Saturday and Sunday in each month
at Oconee, in Jackson countv. Second
Saturday and Siin.thfcat HjrrHion.v, Banks
county. Third Saturday and Sunday in
Bellton Fpurth Sptarday and Sund^Y-ut
Homer, Bank* oAiWity.
J^ Ev L P Winter’s Appointments—
rirst Saturday and Sunday at Pleasant
Grove. Friday flight befoYe first Sunday
at Longview. Second Sunday at Mt. Airy.
Third Saturday and Sunday at Hickory
Flat. Fourth Saturday and Sunday at
Belltun.
FRATERNAL RECOUP
Bellton Lodge No'B4 I () O F meets first
and fourth Wednesday nights in every
month. R F Quillian, N G
J M Fowler, Sec
8 A Oliver. Inside Guardian.
BANKS ( OUNTY TH 11 ECtOilY.
(OrNTY OFFICERS.
T. F. Hill, Ordinary.
B. F, SupDETH. Sherifi.
B. J. Dyar. G4erk Superior Court.
P. A. Waters, Tax Collector.
AV. R. A
W. H. I
RELIGPOUS.?
pRKKBYTKUIAN CIII RCH - - RfV. G. IL
Cnrtledge, Pastor. Preaching every 2nd
at 11 o’clock a. bi.. in each month.
jßlf.thodist Church—Rev. d. T. Curtis.
Pastor. Preaching every first Sunday and
Saturday before, at 11 o’clock a. in., in
each month.
Baptist Church—Rev. E. S. V. HriaiiL.
Pasflor. Piea< hiiig oveiy fourth Sunday
and Satin day beftiro, at J1 o'clock al nil?
in each month.
FRATERNAL RECORD.
Phi Delta Lodge No. 148 A. F. M„ meets
on the first Friday evening in each month
at 7 o’clock. AV. A. Watson, AV. M.
, llynner Ludue .No, 82 J. O, (.). F., jnvi-isa
on the’ second And fourth Wednesday
evenings in each af 7 o’clock.
R. .1. DYAR. N. G.
HALL COUN TY OFI'H ERS.
John L Caines. Sheriff
J B M Winr.ri:n, Ordinary
.1.1 Mai sr.•Clerk Superior Court
M B Newell, Tax Receiver
Ben.i Hawkins. Tax Collector
R C Young, Treasurer
M P Caldwell. Surveyor
Robert Lowery . Coroner
AV A Brown, School Commissioner
TABLE OF
ON THE AIR LINK.
J flan fa 1050 fc- t ;
Sibley 1(MO “
Guodwin’s !(>:•.’» “
Duravillo 1065 “
Norcross .. 1(i72
Duluth ...< lici “
Suwanee.. J... _ 1027 ••
Buford IIJi “
Flower.' Branch 1132 “
Gainesville 122fi “
Lula 1324 “
Bellton 1/41 “
Mount Airy 15X8 “
Toccoa 1032 *‘
NEAR THE AIR LINE.
Dahlonega 2237 feet
Porter Springs .‘JOOti “
<Jarkesvdle 10(10 “
Mountain 3168 “
r Tray 'Mountain 4535 “
Black Mountain 44X1 “
Blood Mountain 4<»70 “
Rabun Bald Mountain 4718 “
Enota or Brasstown Mountain.. .471*0 “
Tallulah Falls 2382 “
OTHER POINTS IN GEOIIGI \.
Savannah 32 feet
Augusta 147 ‘
Fort Gaines 103 “
Columbus 200 “
Milledgeville ‘.Nd “
Macon .'<32 “
Ainenicus 3<>o “
Marietta 1132 “
Dalton 773 “
Griftin 1’75 “
Newnan 9X5 “
LaGrange 778 “
West Point ■ 020 “
Brunswick 16 “
N e li o <1 ii I o
ATLANTA AND CHARLOTTE AIR LINE
HAILROAD.
NO. I—MAIL TRAIN—EASTWAIOI.
Leave Atlanta.. 3.30 p m i
Arrive at Bellton G. 27 p in
NO. 2- MAIL TRAIN —WESTWARD.
l eave Charlotte 12.10 a in '
Arrive at Bellton 8.45 a m ,
NO. 3—DAY PASSENGER—
Leave. Atlanta 4.00 a m
Arrive at Bellton 6.50 a ‘U
NO. 4—DAY PASSENGER —WESTWARD.
Leave Charlotte 10.42 a in
Arrive at Bellton 7.37 p in
—. NO. S—LOCAL FREIGHT—EASTWARD.
Leave Atlanta „ 7.05 a m
Arrive at Bellton 12.30 p m
NO. 6—LOCAL FREIGHT —WESTW ARD.
Leave Central 6.50 p ni
Arrive at Builton 12.36 a in
G. J. Fobeacke, General Manager.
AV. J. Houston,
General Passenger and Ticket Agent.
. NORTHEASTERN RAILROAD.
1 DAILY, EXCEPT SUNDAYS.
JTave Athens 6 00 a m
Center 6 30 a in
y « Nicholson 6 46am
/ / Harmony Grove 720 a m
I rille 746 a m
ille 8 05 a m
la 8.30 a m
ille 10 17 a m
rille 10 39 a m
tmy Grove 11 08 a m
Ison 7 11 33 a m
lhens .12.15 p tn
I wait one hour at Lula for
leuger trains on the Air-Line
en by bo doing a connection
J. M. Edwards. Supt
The North Georgian.
Volume 2.
“THE ROCK OF AGES.”
I Frank Leslie’s Sunday Magazine.]
The southern const of England has
been the birthplace of the grandest
hymns in our language. Within that
belt of land, sacred to Awout poesy.
Charles Wesley caught the inspira
tion of many of his hymns; and
there, we believe, he composed that
delicious love-lay of the heart,
“Jesus, lover of my soul.”
On the shores of Hampshire innsdd
and sang good Tsaae Watts: and in
the same county modest Anne Steele
breathed forth her tender songs of
consolation. In old Kent lived Ed
ward Perronett, who struck that
thrilling note,
“All hail the power of Jesus’ nanml”
Tn beautiful Devonshire the Rev.
Henry F. I.yte chanted his last sweet
melody,
“Abide w tli me; fast, falls the eventide.”
A few miles from him dwelt Charlotte
Elliott. the sister of a clergyman, who
went 'about doing good ; but the grand
est work God ever put into her hands,
was to write
8 “.lust as I am. without one plea.”
Devonshire is' certainly honored
above all the shires of Britain, for on
that poetic soil Augustus Toplady
gave bit th to the most glorious hymn
of modern times—the 'Rock of Ages.’
The ‘Dies Ine’ is the king of medieval
hymns; but of modern songs of Zion,
the ‘Kock of Ages’ wears th’e crown.
It is a curious fact that the. spiritual
birthplace of the heart which fashion
ed this hymn was a barn! Augustus
Toplady was the son of a British
’olticer. After Maj. Toplady’s death,
his widow took the lad Augustus on a
visit to Ireland. While at Codymain,
the boy of sixteen found his way into
a barn, where an earnest but unedu
cated layman was preaching on the
text, “Ye, who sometimes were afar
oft’, are made nigh by the Blood of
Christ.” The. homespun preacher
“builded better than he knew,” for
his sermon converted the soul which
gave to the Church of God the ‘Rock
of Ages.’ Probably that obscure Irish
preacher iias overheard ten thousand
echoes of his simple sermon in the
heavenly world.
Toplady was ordained to the minis
try in 1762, and began to preach on
the banks of the Otter. llis career
was a short one, for lie died at the
age of thirty-eight. He worked hard.
.James Hamilton says of him, that,
“like a race, horse, all nerve and lire,
his life was on tiptoe, and his delight
was to get over the ground.” He
composed in hot haste. Certainly
some of his sharp controversial pa
pers were thrown oft' as from a fur
nace, for they scorched terribly.
Even when he wrote his magnificent
masterpiece, the ‘Rock of Ages,’ he
could not resist the temptation to
give a thrust at those who he insisted
were believers in ‘Perfectionism.’ So
he entitled his hymn, when he printed
it, “a living and dying prayer of the
holiest believer in the world.” This is
as much as if he had said: “The most
sanctified soul in the world must come
down on his knees, and confess, ‘Noth
ing in my hands I bring,’ and, ‘ Vile I
to this fountain fly.’ ”
Glorious child of song ! he has gone
where the strife of tongues has ceased
and controversies are for ever hushed.
Perhaps he and Wesley have sung
each other’s hymns in glory, and
been puzzled to find out how it was
they ever seemed to disagree.
Toplady’s hymn is as universally
popular as the sunshine or the vernal
flowers. It has been translated into
almost every tongue. Dr. Pomeroy
went into a church in Constantinople,
where a company of Armenians were
singing a hymn which so moved them
that the tears were trickling down
their cheeks. He inquired what they
were singing. A man present trans
lated the wordc, and lo! they were
the dear old lines of ‘Rock of Ages !’
When Prince Albert was dying, we
are. told, his lips feebly murmured
the sweet words of Toplady’s hymn.
And so it came about that the dyiug
Prince laid hold of those prCcious
thoughts which had their original
root in the rude discourse of an ob
scure layman in an Irish barn I
We do not dare to attempt any
critical analysis of Top lady’s wonder
ful hymn. Just as soon would we
pull a rose to pieces to find out where
the delicious odor was lurking. The
TRUTH, JUSTICE, LIBERTY.
BELLTON. BANKS COUNTY, GA., SEPTEMBER 4, 1871).
hymn itself is absolute perfection. Os
all its lines, we think the two finest
are these :
“Nothing: in my hand 1 brinu,
Simply to Thy cross I cling.”
: No words can express more beauti-
I fully the entire empty-handedness
I with which a poor, weak, sinful soul
loonies to grasp the Divine Redeeiher
i llß ds only hope. The essence of the
i Gospel is in this matchless couplet,
lit Ims wrought itself into ten thou
sand prayers for pardon; it has been
' the condensed ‘confession of faith’ for
| ten thousand penitents.
Two slight changes have been made
I in Toplady’s hymn. The word -tracts’
' has been superseded by ‘worlds’ in the
last verse. In the same Terse the
author also wrote :
“M hen my rue-striiii/s break in death.”
Perhaps he had learned the medical
fact that, at the moment of dissolu
tion. a delicate tendon near the eye
sometimes break, and causes a flow
<>f tears. But the allusion was more
anatomical than poetic, and the word
“heart-strings” is substituted in our
common version.
This glorious hymn yet waits for a
tune worthy of it. The. one in ordin
ary use is by'no means of t|je highest
order. Some master of music ought
to compose an ‘air’ which shall de
scribe the majestic onward and up
ward movement of Ihe thought to its
sublime climax. The whole hymn is
a fervent ontcrij of a broken heTift to
Jesus. It begins in the plaintive con
, session :
“Not tlie labor of my Immls
Can fultill Thy law’s command.”
I Then the suppliant owns that he is
j naked, empty-handed, and helpless
■ and vile, and calls out imploringly :
. “ jhg, or Idie!"
I'hen his bursting heart begins to
I yearn and stretch onward.. It reaches
| on to the dread hour when the heart-
I strings are snapping at the touch of
death. Il sweeps out into eternity—it
j soars toYhc jrrdgmT’m seat. It beholds
I the great white throne ! And, casting
j itself down before that throne, it
pours forth its last piercing but
triumphant cry:
“Rock of Ages, cleft for mo,
Lei nt hi'le rmjsetj' hi Thee”’
TRUE ELOQUENCE.
When public bodies are to be ad
dressed on momentous occasions,
■ when great interests are at stake, and
I strong passions excited, nothing is
i valuable, in speech, farther than it is
connected with high intellectual and
moral endowments. (Clearness, force
and earnestness, are the qualities
which produce conviction. True elo
quence, indeed, does not consist in
speech. It cannot be . brought from
far. Labor and learning may toil for
il, but they will toil in vain. Words
and phrases may be marshalled in
every way, but they cannot compass
it. It must exist in the man, in the
subject, and in the occasion. Affect
ed passion, intense expression, the
} pomp of declamation, all may aspire
| after it—they cannot reach it. It
(comes, if it come at all, like the out
breaking of a fountain from the earth,
or the bursting forth of volcanic tires,
with spontaneous, original, native
force,. The graces taught in the
schools, the costly ornaments, and
studied contrivances of speech, shock
and disgust men, when their own
lives, and thelate of their wives, their
children, and their country, hang on
the decision of the hour. Then, words
have lost their power, rhetoric is vain,
and all elaborate oratory contempti
ble. Even genius itself then feels re
buked and subdued, as in the presence
of higher qualities. Then, patriotism
is eloquent; then, self-devotion is elo
quent. The clear conception’, out- 1
running the deductions of logic, the j
high purpose, the firm resolve, the I
dauntless spirit, speaking on the
tongue, beaming from the eye, in
forming every feature, and urging the
whole man onward, right onward to
his object—this, this is eloquence; or
rather it is something greater and
higher than all eloquence,—it is ac
tion, noble, sublime, godlike action.—
Webster.
Neither the roar of a factory nor
the distraction of business are so in
compatible with prayer as, in nine
cases out of ten, you will find the sick
or dying bed to be.
Trust him little who praises all;
him less who censures all, and least
him who is coldly indifierent to all.
THE FAMILY.
It's in the family life that a man’s
piety gels tested. ’ Let the husband
be cross and surly, giving a slap here
and .a cuff there, and see how out of
sorts everything gets. The wife
grows cold and unamiable, too. Both
are tuned on one key. They vibrate
in ufiison. giving tone for tone, rising
in lin niony or discord together. The
.children grow up as saucy and savage
;as bears. The father becomes cal
lous, peevish, hard—a kind of two
legged brute with clothes on. The'
wife bristles up in self-defense. They
<leve|o]> an unnatural growth and
sharpness of teeth, and the house is
haunted by ugliness and domostic
brawls.
Is that what God meant the family
to be, He who made it a place for
Love, to build her nest in, and where
kinduess and sweet courtesy might
come to their finest manifestations’?
1 The divine can be realized. There is
; sunshino enough in the world to warm
| all, Why not let men come out of
their eaves to enjoy it’? Some men
make it a point to treat every other
family well but their own—
haver miles for all but their kindred.
Strargc, jiiiiable picture of human
weakness, when those we love best
(are, treated worst; when courtesy is
shown to all save our friends. If one
I mus.t? be rude to any, let it be some
! one he does not love—not to wife,
sister, brother or parent.
Lgt one of our loved ones he taken
away, and memory recalls a thousand
sayings to regret. Death quickens
reeollectiou painfully. The grave
cannot hide the white, faces of those
who sleep. The collin and the green
mound are cruel magnates. They
draw us farther than we would go—
they fiirce us to remember. A man
never «iees so far into human life as
when.he looks over a wife or mother’s
. His eyes get wondrous clear
then, and he sees as never before
wjiat it is to love and be loved—what
it is to injure, the feelings of the loved.
A GRACIOUS THOUGHT.
The man who meets and loves the
woman of twenty-five is truly fortu
nate, and she is equally fortunate in
I meeting and loving him, says a wri
ter in a feminine journal. At that
age she seldom deceives herself and
is seldom deceived. She may not
have, she is not likely to have then
her first sentimental experience; but
such experience at such an age is
more than sentimental, and rarely
ever fleeting. She looks back at the
youths she imagined she was enamor
ed of between sixteen or eighteen, or
even twenty-two, and they are worse
than indifferent or repellent to her—
they are ridiculous to herself. She
cannot but think what she has
escaped; she cannot but be grateful
to her destiny that her sympathies
and affections have been reserved for
a worthy object and a higher end. At
twenty-five if ever a woman knows
and estimates herself, she is less lia
ble to emotional or mental mistakes,
she is far surer of the future, because
she feels that her fate is, to a certain
extent, within her own hands. Not
only is she lovelier and more lovable
and broader and stronger than she
has been, but her wedded happiness
and powers of endurance are in a
manner guaranteed.
Southern Women.—The misfort
unes of war, culminating in the loss
of servants, has devolved on the
daughters in Southern families much
of the hard tvork formerly done by
slaves, and they have become more
i practical women than they could ever
I have been if reared with a servant at
their command, ready at all times to
Ido their bidding. In all that pertains
to the art of housekeeping, from the
kitchen to the garret, the girls of to
day are better educated than their
mothers were. They have learned to
work for themselves, and for the fam
ilies of ’which they are members.
Cultivated in mind and muscle and
morals, beautiful in form and feature,
modest in speech and apparel, the
Southern girls are the peers of any
the world can produce.
That which could break a proud
man’s heart will not break a humble
man’s sleep.
Never find fault until it is perfectly
certain a fault has been committed.
AS YOUNG AS YOUR DAUGHTER.
“Tell you what, Tanerly,” said the
floor manager one day,‘“you must
! throw a little more tact into j’our
trades if you want to get on. I have
noticed that you try to flatter the
ladies, but you don’t lay it on thick
enough. Whenever yoti see a lady
come in with her grown daughter you
must be sure to mistake the old lady
for the daughter, and tell her that she
looks quite, as young as her daughter,
that never fails to get ’em. Here,
conies Mrs. Bolink with her daughter
Maria, and I know they will want to
look at silks.”
But the floor manager was a little
short-sighted, and had made a slight
mistake as regarded one of the per
sons. 4
M’lum Mi s. Bolink, cheery and chip
per, though hardly as young as she
once was, sailed up to the silk coun
ter, she was not accompanied by Tier
daughter, but bv Miss Helianthus, a
spinster of uncertain age and decided
ly faded appearance. The deluded
laperly opened his batteries at once :
“Mrs. Bolink. I believe, though I
must really confess that 1 can hardly
distinguish you from your daughter.
A ou are looking almost, if not quite,
as t11 1; at your side.”
“Sir !” exclaimed the indignant Bo
link.
“Sir I” echoed the exasperated Heli
anthus.
“Don’t say that it, isn’t so, my dear
Miss Bolink,” continued the unfortu
nate Taporlv, turning to the faded
flower and failing to notice the storm
that, was gathering on the, two female
faces. “You know that your mother
doesn’t look a day older than you do,
and I must beg you lo tell me which
of you is Mrs. Bolink and which is
Miss Bolink.”
“Do you suppose that I came here
lobe insulted’?” exclaimed the Heli
anthus; “do you presume, you onion
eating idiot, to compare me, a young
lady, to a wrinkled hag of a, mari i <1
woman who is old enough to be m\
grandmother ’?”
“Do you mean, vou red headed igno
ramus.” exclaimed the Boblink, “to
say that I look no younger than that
and withered old maid, who is
lit t,y if aha is a. dayA You ought .tn. be
arrested, you vile creature, and I will
complain to the proprietor at once.”
Taperly is looking for a situation.
► ♦
Life.—Live for something! Yes,
and for something worthy of life and
its capabilities and opportunities for
noble deeds and achievements. Every
man and every woman has his or her
assignment in the duties and responsi
bilities of daily life. We are in the
world to make the world better; to
lift it up to higher levels of enjoy
ment and progress, to make its hearts
and homes brighter and happier by
devoting to our fellowmen our best
thoughts, activities and influences. It
is the motto of every true heart and i
the genius of every noble life that
“no man liveth to himself”—lives
simply for his own selfish good. It I
is a law of our intellectual and moral
being that we contribute to the com
fort and enjoyment of others. Noth
ing worthy of the name of happiness
is possible in the experience of those
who live only for themselves, all ob
livious of the welfare of their fellows.
IS IT TRUE?
Is it true that a remedy has been
compounded which will do away with
the mineral and drastic purgatives of
the past centuries, and which, while
entirely efficient, will leave the system
in its former healthy condition? Yes,
the remedy is Tabier’s Portaline, or
Vegetable, Liver Powder, a cure for
all the disorders arising from a torpid
liver, and as innocent as spring water.
Give it a trial; it will do what it prom
sies. Price 50 cents a bottle. For sale
by Dr. 11. 8. Bradley, Gainesville, Ga.
A young man on becoming affianced
was desirous of presenting his intended
with a ring appropriately inscribed;!
but being at a loss what to have en-1
graved upon it, he asked his father’s
advice. “Well,” said the old gentle
man, put on ‘when this you see, re
member me.’ ” The young lady was
surprised, on receipt of the ring a few
days after, to read this inscription’
‘when this you see, remember father.
•
We desire to see a man who was
ever bitten by a Ilea when he had a
good opportunity to scratch. A flea
invariably attacks a man when he is
in the presence of ladies, or when he
is so situated that he can do nothing
but twist about and cuss easy.
Some crusty, rusty, musty, fusty,
dusty, gusty curmudgeon of a man
gave the following toast at a celebra
tion : “Our fire engines—may they be
like our old maids, ever ready but
never wanted.”
Be just, but trust not every one.
Greorg’ian,
PUBLISHED EVERY THURSDAY,
AT BELLTON, GA.
RATES OF SUBSCRIPTION.
One year (52 numbers) $1.00; six months
(26 numbers) 50 cents; three months (13
numbers) 25 cents.
Office in the Smith building, east of the
depot.
Number 39.
THOUGHTFUL THOUGHTS.
Blame not before you examine the
truth. ■ >
Whatever good you do, ascribe it to
the gods.
The first of all virtues is innocence,
the next, modesty.
Children speak in the field what
they hear in.the hall. •
No man was ever truly great with
out divine inspiration.
All good thoughts, words and ac
tions are from the celestial world.
Idleness is emptiness—the tree in
which sap is stagnant remains fruit
less.
Wi irity under divine impulse may
relieve suffering; charity under divine
wisdom will prevent it.
God be thanked for books. They
are the voices of the distant and the
dead, and they make us heirs of the
spiritual life of past ages.
Wise men are instructed by reason;
men of less understanding by experi
ence ; the most ignorant by necessity,
and beasts by nature.
Great errors are often connected
with elevated sentiments,but in order
to understand this we must ourselves
possess greatness of soul.
Statesmen and enthusiasts, who by
(heir speeches incite men to noble
deeds, are divinely inspired, and pos
sessed by the Divinity.
If you have improved your under
standing and studied virtue, you have
only done your duty, and thus there
seems little reason for vanity.
Those who outlive their incomes by
splendor in dress or equippage are well
said to resemble a town on fire—which
shines by that which destroys it.
The single effort by which wc slap
short in the down-hill path to perdi
tion is, itself, a greater exertion of
virtue than a hundred acts of justice.
There is no widow so widowed in
her circumstances as she who has a
drunken husband; no orphan so desti
tute its he who has a drunken father.
A man should be virtuous for his
own sake, though nobody were to
know it; as he would be clean for his
own sake, though nobody were to see
him.
Good spirits are often taken for good
nature; yet nothing differs more in
sensibility, being generally the source
of the former, and sensibility of the
latter.
How learn to know yourself? Not
by contemplation, but by action.—
Strive to do your duty and you will
soon discover what stuff you are
made of.
There are many who say more than
the truth on some occasions and bal
ance the account with their consci
ences by saying less than the truth
on others.
Anxiety is the poison of life, the
parent, of many sins and miseries.
Why then allow it, when we know
that all the future is guided by a
Father’s hand?
I
There are treasures laid up in the
heart—treasures of charity, piety and
temperance. These treasures a man
takes with him beyond death, when
he leaves this world.
The effect of water poured on the
root of a tree is seen aloft in the
branches and fruit; so in the next
( world are seen the effects of good
■ deeds performed here.
A book is a soul disengaged from
matter, a fountain that flows forever.
Some of poisonous tendency, are kept
on the shelf as the anatomist pre
serves monsters in glasses; but they
ought to be as accurately labelled.
Prayer that craves any particular
commodity, anything less than all
good, is vicious. Prayer, as a means
to effect a private end, is meanness
and theft. As soon as a man is al
once with God, he will not beg.
Love, like light, must always be
traveling. A man must spend it,
give it away. He may be a miser of
his wealth; tie bis talent in a napkin,
and hug himself up in his reputation,
but he is always generous in his love.