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>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.