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instinct print TRIBUTES TO MILLARD SEALS. Outpouring of Deepest Sympathy. Hind Letters from Friends and Strangers in Every Portion of the Country, from Vermont and Iowa to Texas and FIorida--A Thousand Thanks from Our Crushed and Bleeding Hearts. Thanks to the Great Arbiter of all human affairs ! Humanity is not yet extinct in the human heart. The great mass can yet be touched by another's woes, and “ weep with those who weep.” Never perhaps in any age have more touchingly beautiful, and sweetly consoling letters been penned than have poured in upon us from countless sources in our crushing bereavement, from Vermont, Iowa, Tennessee, Virginia, the Carolinas, Texas, Ala bama and from every direction, since our last issue they have come with sweet and beautiful words of sympathy and consolation, and we thus publicly acknowledge them because it is utterly impossible for us to do so by private letter. And we beg each and every one to accept our most grateful and heartfelt thanks. We would like exceedingly to publish some of the letters but cannot make the selections. A TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF MILLARD SEALS. BV THE SECOND BAPTIST SABBATH SCHOOL, ATLANTA, GA. On the bright morning of June 2d, one week and one day ago, just as the sun was sending his rays on the dewy morning, awaking the world to light and life, the subject of this tribute was sud denly, unexpectedly called to yield his sweet, young life, under circumstances too well known and too heart-rending to need or bear rehearsal. Yet sudden and untimely as seemed to be his death, the cheering thought arises that though his death was tragic, his life, his rising manhood, his bright, beautiful, genial character, shedding its benignant rays over the moral and social world, was not altogether unlike the bright luminary that wit nessed his end. Of his character, we will let others speak here after, adding our testimony. But before doing so, let us briefly review the events of the past week. And oh, how they crowd on us ! How forcibly do they remind us how fleeting, how uncertain, how transitory are all the things of earth ! How soon we may pass away ! How, in one week—yea, in one day—we may die, be buried, words of sym pathy and sorrow pronounced over us, and then be forgotten, except in the memory of our virtues and good deeds ! During the past week how rapid, liow startling, how impressive the events which have transpired ! One week ago last Thursday j morning, Millard Seals left his fond parents in all the buoyancy of his young life, to seek a day’s needed«recreation by the seashore; on Friday morning, without a moment’s warning, he was hurled into eternity ! Saturday morning his life- j less form was returned to his stricken parents, j For a few brief hours of that day his body was i laid in a room of his father’s house, where hun- j irLda of sympathising frionds gather^, to look on it and offer their tribute of flowers and tears. On the evening of the same day, while clouds obscured the sun, his body was borne to’the upper room of this church, where words of sympathy, of praise j and o: consolation were truly and fitly spoken by our minister to weeping relatives and friends; then away to the silent city of the dead moved the mourning procession. And here, without incur ring the imput ition of superstition, we may paus j to mention an incident which may be treasured as a beautiful omen of good. One who stood by th# open grave says, “just as the coffin was being low ered into the earth, a ray of dazzling brightness burst through the dark pall of the clouds that had covered the sky, and gleamed goldenly across the coffin lid. To all present it seemed symbolic of the sweet spirit’s happy immortality. It seemed to be a token of the bright iufluence of his life, which will still shine from his grave with purifying lus tre.” But to return to the events of the past most eventful week: Well do we all remember the me morial meeting of our Sabbath-school on last Sab bath afternoon, the day after the burial of Mil lard Seals, and long will we remember the touch ing tributes to his memory by those, old and young, to whom he was so dear, so closely bound by the ties of church and school-fellowship. That meet ing was an event in our school long to be remem bered and never forgotten. The lessons of wis dom taught by his spotless life and illustrated by his bright example, cannot pass away like the idle story of an hour, but must leave lasting, endless impressions on our minds which will bear fruit in eternity. Equally memorable in the events of the week is the large meeting on last Weduesday night, when our best citizens paid their eloquent and heartfelt tribute to the moral and intellectual worth of our lamented brother. Never will those who were present on that occasien forget the melting strains of Millard's favorite song, “ Thesweei by-and-by,” as it floated up like angel-whispers from hearts filled with love, tender memories and fond antici pations of meeting oa the “ other shore,” which seemed almost in view. We will always remember the tremulous voice of the stricken father, as, moved by this sweet song, so often heard from the lips of his son, he arose and spoke of this boy as his friend, his counsellor, his preacher, his life, his all of earthly hope, and asked that all present would remember him in their petitions, praying that this terrible affliction might be sanctified to his good. Surely’ we who profess to be Christians will not forget this request. But meetings in honor of Millard Seals have not been confined to our own church and congregation. During the past week the First M. E. Church Sunday-school, moved by a broad Christian sym pathy, has, in a series of resolutions, united with us in expressing its high appreciation of him as a Christian and a Sunday-school w* rker. Similar tributes to his memory have been paid by his former college associates of Mercer University, and by the Polymnian Society, of which he was a mem ber, but those somewhat formal meetings are not so remarkable as the wonderful and spontaneous offerings which have been made from all parts of the country. It is no exaggeration to say that dur ing the week since his burial a whole volume of tribntes to the memory of Millard Seals has been received by his parents. This book of love and sweet remembrance, this spontaneous tribute to genius and piety, is made up not only of contribu tions from relatives and personal friends, but even from those who knew him not in person, and had only heard afar off his name as a youth of extra ordinary mental powers and moral worth. Fitly does Poetry bring her offering from the gifted pen of one who knew him well, and who sadly, sweetly sings, as woman alone can sing, of the crushed hearts that loved him, of his death in life’s sweet June, and of the “ typic ray” which fell athwart .his coffin lid, emblem of a blissfu' immortality. 7Then comes another poetic tribute from one, who though a minister of high repute, does not consider it beneath the dignity of the office or the man to tune his lay to the praise of the “noble boy” whose form is the commom heritage of all Chris tians. And then by hand and express from all parts of the country, came rare sweet flowers in such pro- I fusion that they literally covered his bier and grave, as with a “ fragrant snow drift,” most sweet and fit emblem of the many virtues which cluster ed around the character of the fair youth over whom they were strewn. And now can we, as a Sabbath school add any thing to the wreath of honors which has been heaped on the new-made grave of our companion and brother? During the short week which has passed since his burial there have poured in in profusion rich, rare, we might say unparallel’.ed in the case of one so young. And yet, as those bound to him by the tender ties of Christian broth erhood and Sabbath school association, we would offer our affectionate he rt-felt tribnte to his mem- ! ory. In these relations we knew him as no others did. We knew him as the sincere, devout, hum ble, consistent Christian. We have seen him bow before the mercy seat in public prayer, and with a child-like unaffected simplicity, and yet with a natural unstudied eloquence pour forth his peti tions to that God whom he always addressed as “ Dear Father.” Never can we forget those melt ing tones, those earnest prayers offered up in our behalf. We cun also speak of hi-', as a Sabbath school schollar. His teacher says of him : “ Millard had been a member of my class about 15 months, and during those months his seat was seldom vacant. When present he was always respectful and atten tive to his teacher, quick to answer all questions, and to describe and unfold the leading truths in every lesson. Gentle and affectionate to his class mates, he drew all our hearts to him as to a mag net, and we loved him in our hearts.” What higher, what more beautiful picture of a good Sabbath school scholar could be drawn ? Again, some had the good fortune to know him as an intimate associate. Of all the numerous i testimonies to the worth of Millard Seals, the fol- : lowing from one of his bosom friends is the most j striking and conclusive : Says this friend to whom j lie unbosomed himself: “ As one of Millards most i intimate friends 1 can truly say that he was one of j the purest boys that ever lived. He was good, ] upright, honest, and truthful. Never in his life j was he even heard to swear or utter an oath, or to ! use slang words. When he went to the house of j God, he always went with a prayerful heart; when j praising God with song, he always tried to do his j share with his dear sweet voice. During prayer he always bowed his head humbly, and lifted up J his voice in silent prayer. Never in his life was ‘ he known to quarrel with any one; but he always ! had a word of cheer and comfort for all he met. j He won the love of all by his kind, gentle ways. | He was continually thrown into bad company, but ! as soon as he found such to be the case he with drew. He never went into a bar room or billiard j saloon in his life; nor in any place that could bring j reproach on the name he bore. He was not only j a dutiful loving son to his father and mother, but j a companion, adviser, and everything their hearts ! could wish. He was devoted to his mother, always j speaking of her in the tenderest and most respect- ! ful terms. He often excused himself from going WHISPERS FROM COOSA'S WAVES. BY ST. CTR. On this bright day in flower-budding May, In meditative mood by the Coosa I stay, Listening to the music its ripples are giving, For on its bright waters a memory is living In whispers of spirits from shadowy land, In weird-like melody from a shadowy hand— MingliDg with the battle shout Of the Spaniard in ruthless ravage, And of France, in orgies and rout, And the war-cry of the savage. ’Twas but a phantom; 'twas fame that led. Centuries have passed and time has aped. ’Twas on this spot the Spaniard bold For years did valiantly make his hold, Seeking diligently for mines of gold; A slave to fame, his spirit was sold In striving to find youth’s living spring In the limpid Coosa's shade, And fairy birds with airy wing, With feather vest of pearl inlaid. The sons of France, with glad’ng eyes, Then sought this land of sunny skies With ships; and men in armor bright, With manly crest and towering height, Eager for gold, for fame, for fight, DariDg and bold, be it wrong or right, Reared a bastion on Coosa’s deep side, Christened with proud Toubisi's name; The red man, wronged, was then defied To gild for France the phantom fame. ’Tis the vale of dreams and visions red, Where virgins wept and warriors bled; The red man’s name is now erased— Flying Westward, by white men chased, Their former glory cannot be traced In the gentle home, by the river graced. Then lovely groups of living gold, With dreamy eyes and beauteous face, Fashioned by Him of immortal mould, With music's voice and woodland grace. Filled its banks in glittering throngs, In joyous dance and wildwood songs. The stream was dotted with the light canoe, Laden with lovers wild bnt true; The shyest game came boldly to view, Fearing no danger —their lords they knew. The stalwart form of the forest king And lovely wildwood maid No more will dance, no more will sing: They sleep quietly in the spreading shade. Weird and grand was the flowery wild. Home of the savage, sublime nature’s child; Myriads of birds, with plumage gay, Green trees festooned with mosses gray; Disease took wings and stole away, Reasons fled unknown—'twas always May. The spoiler came with savage hand, And slew with reeking blade— Bedewed with blood his happy land, To sink forever in the Eternal Shade! balsams, firs, cedars, tamaras. The soft breeze that blows in through the window is so laden with spicy odors that, closing one’s eyes, it seemed like “ Home in the South.” Never fear the name swamp; no malaria, no damps here. When other places are all afloat, the Lake Supe rior and Mississippi Railroad is “ over sky-high and stone dry. Fortunes have been made here, and “there’s millions” in these forests—Fide the palatial residences and bank accounts of Messrs. Taylor, McKee & Co., lumber merchants of Minnesota. No rest, no quiet here. Day and night the black monsters that move these mills never rest, and thousands and thousands of feet of lumber are sawed and sent out to build the houses of these busy Minnesotians. Twenty minutes for dinner at Hinchly, and plenty of good cheer refresh us for the last and most interesting portion of our trip. Leaving at North Pacific Junction all bound for the Black Hills, we cross the St. Louis river. Para dise opens to you here. Don’t expect us to de scribe the Dalles of St. Croix to you now. If pen and ink can tell you, you shall know. But not to-day, when the murmur of the water, and the glorious scenery is still so fresh in our minds, that it seems like sacrilege to speak of it as belonging to earth. Five bridges cross the St. Louis, none less than a hundred and twenty feet high. The descant of the river is one hun dred feet per mile; and for beauty of scenery, but one river ever equaled it, and that river flowed through the garden of Eden. LETTER FROM ST. LOUIS. Eloquent Speeches--New Theatrical Star, Dear Sonny South: St. Louis, Mo., June 5th. LETTER FROM ST. PAUL. Beautiful Scenes—Heavy Forests—-Fine Fish ing, etc. Last week was one of bright sunshine and Ito places by saying that he preferred to go home ! pure pleasure; for, thanks to the kindness of and be with mother. 1 have known him to give up , friend J. W., one of the pleasantest and most places of amusement and go to prayer meeting, ' courteous ot route agents, we enjoyed a trip which is something very unusual for a boy of his i over the Lake Superior and Mississippi Rail age The last time I saw him was at churcn prais- j road. It was a panorama of beautiiul scenery inu- God. And the night before he was killed he the time we left St. Paul till we reached was up to a late hour singing religious and Sab-I ^lath the “Zemth city of unsaltod seas. A bath school songs, with his friend collected around P ,e “"rSg* lk f him. Fifteen minutes before his! death he stepped f^hme brought us to the depot, built at the ^■tho car to gather some wild flowers, and was too . t , of V: mV1Ue ’ °T T* I 6 _ gult runt.mg up through onfe ot the prinf'jpal streets ol\ St. Paul, but now' graded and filled up till it ii as even as yonder parlor floor. 1 The out of the car to gathe asking how the prayer-meetings (in Atlanta) were I progressing. And this friend gives this additional testimony to his character, which is worthy of all commendation and imitation. He tells us that I Millard Seals never used tobacco in any form, and I that he even refrained from drinking tea and cof- | fee, those common stimulants which cannot be road runs up the ravine for a hundred yards or so, crossing Trout Brook, and then skirts along the prairie till it reaches the first station at White Bear Lake, a famous place of summer resort for the good people of St. Paul and Mis taken, especially by the young, without injury to ; s i s sippi. It is to them what Thunderbolt and the system. | White Bluff are to our friends in Georgia. Here And now what more need we say ? What more | y 0 u can take your choice between three very can we say that would be more impressive than the j tine hotels; and connected with these are bath- example of him whose memory aud virtues are eu- j ing houses and boats, both sail and row. There shrined in our hearts? But, let this memory be | is also a nice little steamer, The Swallow, just something more than a mere sentiment. Let it be j the thing for picnics and fishing excursions, a living, active principle which will cause all to | What between good fare, fishing, dancing, bath- strive to follow the bright example which has been i ing, boating, and fun of every kind, one goes given us in the pure and spotless Christian life of j with eagerness and leaves with sadness, the Millard Seals. j g a ' ner 01 many pounds of flesh, and perhaps— And finally, we request that this tribute to his | a . ver ’, . .... „ ,, , , memory be entered on our records, and that a copy ! Alter leaving \\ bite Bear (there is a beautiful he sent to his parents, with our warmest sympathy Indlan le S end connected with it which I will r - - - j -tell yon some day), the next place is Forest ! Lake, not so large as White Bear, but a splendid i place for hunting and fishing. Numbers of ! Southerners come up for that purpose during | the summers, and live in quite Arcadian style; not to save expenses, because hoard is very rea sonable, considering all you get and enjoy, but because it is certainly the perfection of summer life out West. No bugs, no snakes, or creeping things, what is there to break in upon your en joyment of “ Tent life in the far West?” If you get tired, and feel as if you would like to prove yourself to he a civilized creature once more, you need go but a few miles to Wyoming, and rest your weary body under the shelter of one of the very best hotels in Minnesota—Tum bler’s Hotel, noted for hospitality and good fare from “down South” to “over East” and “far Trinity Sunday School, June 11, 1870. ! West.” Should you ever come West, Sunny 1/r. Jno. T. McGuire, Supt. Second Baptist Sunday \ South, don't fail to go there, for the benefit KNIGHTS OF HONOR. ITS ENDS AND AIMS. This order originated in Louisville, Ky., nearly three years ago. The first Lodge num bered seventeen men. There are now ten thou sand members in the order. The order has been carefully and judiciously managed, and the members are mostly men of the highest stand ing in Masonry, Odd Fellowship and other organizations. It is an incorporated institution, combining all the best features of the older secret organiza tions, with new elements of usefulness and strength that cannot fail to render it at once at tractive, popular and prominent. It tolerates nothing sectarian, sectional or po litical. It gives moral and intellectual culture and material aid to its members. It pays two thousand dollars to the family or legal representative of each deceased member. This is done by the accumulation of advance assessments upon all members of the order, which are made whenever the amount in the general Widow and Orphans’ Fund is reduced below two thousand dollars. This plan is founded upon fixed business principles, and furnishes a species of life insurance that is at once cheaper, more secure and easier carried than that offered by any other plan. This fund is held sacred, and no portion of it is expended j in any other way than in payment of death ben efits. The Knights of Honor is no rival to other older secret associations, but strives to emulate the virtues and good qualities of them all. Neither does it enter the field as an opponent of life associatians. It simply takes up the argu ments that render the value of life insurance a stubborn fact, and reiterates them with new em phasis in their application to our special pur poses. The membership is composed of men between the ages of twenty-one and fifty-five, embracing men of all avoeations, who are honorable and honest, and seek the welfare of their fellows. The funds are secured by good and sufficient bonds. The bqnd of the Supreme Treasurer is $50,000, that of the Supreme Reporter, $1(1,oOO. Georgia Lodge, No. 127, was organized ija At lanta on the 13>th of July, 1875, and now has 50 members. There has been but one death in Georgia. Mr. Miller, editor at Toccoa, Ga., joined the order on the ’27th of February and died, we believe, in April. He was a widower, and left a little daughter, Miss Hattie Miller, who has received $2,000 from the Supreme Treasurer. The order commends itself to all good and true men. Capt. W. B. Kendrick, of Atlanta, Ga., is the Grand Reporter for the Grand Lodge of Georgia, and will take pleasure in giving information concerning the order. He is a good and true man, and takes a deep interest in any and all movements which commend themselves to his judgment as being calculated to benefit his fellow-men. and our earnest prayer that God may sanctify this sad affliction to their spiritual and eternal good. Jno. Stainback Wilson, j E. Andrews, J-Committee. William Spalding. J The preceding testimonial of dear Millard Seals, was read before the Second Baptist Sunday school, and uanimously adopted Sunday morning, June 11th, 1876. ' Truly, John T. McGuire, Sup’t. Chas. B. Gaskill, Secretary. A BEAUTIFUL LETTER Prom Trinity M. E. Sabbath School to the Second Baptist Sabbath School. of your—stomach. From Wyoming to Rush City past North Branch, you pass through the finest farming country in Minnesota. Everything shows the thrift, energy and go-ahead ways of the Minne sota farmers. Good houses, large barns, sub stantial fencing, and fine stock, prove that farm- words snoken at the recent State Convention at ers out here d ° not believe in bein 8 Penny wise words, spoken at the recent ^tate Convention at and nd Liberal outlay, as a general Decatur are stil ringing in our ears. In his life thin £ bri in a generoas retur n; and forty we beheld one ot the truest types of noble young acre * well c D ultivute d“ will bring a better income, manhood. In his death, as a company in the and j n f be end be a pleasanter heritage to leave great Sunday School army, we have lost a brave Qur children School: Dear Brother—We have felt, with you. a pang of grief at the sad and sudden death of our gifted brother, Millard Seals. As a sister in Christ, TrLnity Sunday School desires to offer, through you, to the Second Baptist Sunday School her sympathy in this great sorrow. His eloquent and valiant comrade, and you a noble and pious son. We think of his death with sorrow; yet, while we mourn, let us continue to cherish a oliild-hke confidence in our Heavenly Father’s will. Our Marahs as well as our Elims are appointed by llim. A gracious pillar-cloud is before us. Let us fol At North Branch, you will find two things to interest yon—tne Hay Depot of Minnesota, and the Minnesota Marble Quarry, both owned and errried on by Charles Guerney, a Southerner and Louisianian. At Rush City, you leave behind you the farm ing lands and oak openings that have interested us so far, and strike the heavy timber lands that low Him through sunshine and storm. He may keep the timber cutters so busy in the winter lead us darkly—sometimes sorrowfully but always season. A short delay gave us time to pay a wisely. We need our trials. “ Some days” not hasty visit to the editorial sanctum of H. P only “ are, but must be dark and dreary.” Let us remember that there are no bitter mean ingless drops in the cup of our grief. “The Lord loveth whom he chasteneth.” Though the floods of sorrow wear deep chan nels in our hearts, let net their banks be sterile by the flow of the bitter waters. But rather let them be redolent with sweet flowers green soft verdure, which else had no springing. Rubie, the talenthd editor and proprietor of the Chicago Post of Rush City, and the Xews of Pine City. Unfortunately, it was his busy time, for the interest of both papers rests upon his editorial shoulders, and the “ devil ” was so con stantly at his elbows that we were forced to con tent ourselves with a promise to take—well, a ; cup of lea, at some future time. Pine City, one of the largest towns on this route, contains—a la little boy saying his geog- Praying that our Heavenly Father may sanctify hy less0 ns-four thousand inhabitants and a this affliction which now seems so grievous to the fa £ Q J rv for making barre l staves. The chief ®°i°- ^ 1S P eo P e in ^^ anta ’ an ^ l ^ at hand objects of interest are the heavy forests of maple, which has been laid heavily upon the hearts of ironwool L 0 ak, and hickory. ' Here begins the father and mother may apply the “ oil of joy for forests of Minnesota. For miles and miles [For Tlie Sunny South.] GIRLS. BY ANXABELLE BARKER WHITE. Girls are the most innocent, trusting creatures that walk God’s beautiful footstool. Mark! I do not mean or say younej ladies, but girls—sweet faced, fresh-hearted girls — for we have them even in this, the nineteeth century, and it is to be confidently hoped we shall have them in the twentieth, notwithstanding the giant strides that are now being made by progressive parents to erase such sweet, natural flowers from their hot-beds. We may prate as we will of the solid joys, the calm happiness and pleasant duties of womanhood, but what woman is there who does not sometimes look longingly back to that green spot in her life, careless, happy girlhood ? Ay, there’s the charm ! She is without cares, with out stern duties to goad her on as if she were Mr. Pickwick’s cab-horse. “ He always falls down when he’s took out of his cab,” said the driver, “but when he’s in it, we bears him up werry tight, and takes him in werry short, so’s he can’t werry well fall down, and we’ve got a pair of precious large wheels on; so ven he does move, they run after him, and he must move on—he can’t help it.” This is the life of many a woman. But a girl, if she have ambition before her to beckon on with gleaming finger, she studies to become a woman in the broadest, fullest meaning of that significant word. To such the road of learning is pleasant, no goad being required to urge her along. If she be a dreamer, she stops by the wayside, culling the sweetest flowers there, and waking up some day to the knowledge that her crown—womanhood—has come to her with a shock. She is totally unprepared for it, and it takes years for her to get accustomed to it; per haps she never fully realizes that she is a woman. Ah, girls ! if you could only lift the vail you would not be so eager to have the chaplet of wifehood placed on your unfitted brows. Wait a few years for your prince to come to you— don’t seek him out, then cry Eureka ! enshrine him in your heart, and sometime waken to the painful fact that your prince is a spurious one; in truth, an idol of the impure clay. But I did not start out to give advice, for every one knows it’s perfectly useless. Each girl has her rose-colored dreams of the future, and I would not for the world she should be without them. Each girl nods confidently to herself and says, “my life will be worth living.” So when these glowing dream-visions turn to dead- gray ashes, when her trust in human nature be comes less perfect, when the knowledge comes to her that life's rose-garden has it thorns, may she not be tempted to exclaim and believe that all is vanitas vanitatum ? their mourning, we are Y’ours in Christ, A. G. Candler, C. W. Crankshaw, Wm. A. Haygood, Committee Trinity Sunday School. you pass through forests where the snow is never melted from winter to winter, and for dead silence and sombre gloom, equal the pine barrens of the South. It is a relief when we strike the cedar swamps. Then it is like a “ Breath from Araby the blest," The Shah of Persia has in his palace a ter restrial globe said to be of solid gold. It is surrounded by circles of the same metal, and adorned with all sorts of gems. All the coun tries are indicated by incrustations of diamonds and precious stones of various colors. “By the flow of an inland river. Whence the fleet# of iron have fled. Where the blades of green grass quiver. Asleep are the rauks of the dead. Last Tuesday, May 30th, was DECORATION DAY, i and "tlowers.for the fallen” were brought, and the ! throng, the great, busy, sacredly aud tenderly re membering throng, “laureled the graves of the dead.” On that morning a great number of peo ple repaired to the National Cemetery, at Jetter- son Barracks, now St. Louis Arsenal. There were the usual ceremonies aud appropriate me morial speeches were made by ex-Gov. Fletcher, Mr. E. D. Kargan, Col. Price, and Col. Robert Crawford. Col. Crawford is an Alabamian, and served in the Confederate army. We give the tenderly and pathetically beautiful couclusiou to his speech, which was applauded: Of the Confederate, as of the Federal dead, let us say, "On fame’s eternal camping ground Their silent tents are spreau. Ami glory in her solemn round. Guards tne bivouac of thedead.” Just thirteen years ago the ominous word was ; whispered along the contending armies that Stonewall Jackson was fatally wounded. When dying, at first that great soldier’s mind recurred to the scenes of battle, aud in delirium utt'ered these historic words; "Order A. P. Hill to pre pare for action; pass the infantry to the front rapidly.” Presently a smile of ineffable sweet ness spread itself over his pale face, and he said quietly, aud with an expression as of relief, "Let us cross over the river and rest under the shade of the trees. ’ The river which he was passing was the one that divided the blood-red held of battle from the silent shaded field of death. To day let Coulederates and Federals continue to cross over the river that divides recrimination, unforgiveuess and hate, to the fair and happy land of sympathizing affection and brotherly love— oblivion of the animosities of the past and united struggles for the glory of our common country in the luture, are tne symbols of an everlasting union, and should be the rallying cry of every American citizen. In doing so we shall have an approving echo from the spirit land, under the shade of the trees from across the river where our Federal aud Confederate kindred in sileut martyred grandeur rest, lu the asnes of all bit ter remembrances let the flowers of kindred es teem and kindred glories eternally bloom, cherish- ishiug as we all do the fond hope that this Union is but in the spring-tide of its career. [Ap plause.] Our city last week witnessed the theatrical debut of a fair, gifted woman of Southern parentage, MRS. W. N. BELDEN. For weeks before the occasion our papers had been filled with sensational items in regard to the debutante; her magnificent "toilets” even had been described in detail, and as a matter of course, the populace in general were in a high state of qui owe. But at last, the eventful evening came, and with the people we rushed to see La Belden in her initiative effort as “JULIET.” How our hearts went out to the fair, young and graceful woman, as she fowed acknowledgment to tne loud and earnest acclaim that greeted her first appearance. tiul would shr prove a grand, sweet type oi'tffe fair Capuiet, that had charmed and beguiled us, through so many theatrical years ? Surely sym metry, grace, and beauty were not wanting in the lithe, willowy physique, and a semi-spirituelle face with the dark, violet eyes, shadowed by the dusky friuge of drooping lids. But, the play goes on, and alas, we cannot hear what the fair Juliet is saying; and now our heart sinks within us and presages a sore defeat, as the pit of the gallery applaud—where the applause should not come in. BBt the balcony scene comes on, and Juliet indeed “is coming out.” Full of witchery are her face and tender tones in this scene; and we think, as we catch the trembling sheen of moonbeams reflected on jeweled hair of “fire-flies tangled in a' silver braid.” From this scene La Belden takes heart and goes bravely on, gaining vigor and strength of action with every movement. The applause comes in at the right places now, and the audience is beginning to realize that she is proving a QUEEN OF TRAGEDY, in truth. And at last, when it was all well over,the mad parting from Romeo, the hideous death, and all Mrs. Belden was called before the curtain and crowned in the synonym of fame and success, a LAUREL WREATH. Right royally and gracefully she wore her honor —as became a true daughter of Melpomene. M. J. W. • — . [For The Sunny South.] LAWYERS. I find the following statement going the rounds of the newspapers: “ The people of the United States pay over $30,000,000 annually to the lawyers to gratify their own love of quarreling and contention.” 1 do not know how much money is spent in liti gation, but a large amount no doubt. But my point is this: there is nothing about which greater popular errors exist than about lawyers, litigation and the good faith of parties to suits in court. A stupid notion prevails that to every suit which comes into court, one of the parties thereto is not only wrong, but morally wrong, and is making an effort to get from the other what he ought not to have, or resist what ought to be given up without objection. This is pure stupidity. In much the larger half of all the civil cases litgated in court, both parties honestly believe they are right. The most honest, conscientous men 1 have ever known, were the severest and most unrelenting litigants. This was founded on the present conviction of right. When two such men differ, they differ as wide as the poles, and litigation with them is a fight for principle as well as for money. Loose, slack, twisted men never litigate much. Men of convictions, men who believe things, self-reliant, earnest men, they who do something in the world, the only class who are much account, are the men who pay the millions referred to in the extract above. I hope to be pardoned for saying here, that I think very little of that amount has been paid to the lawyers in Georgia for the last two or three years. Ignorance has made another idea apparently popular, and that is that lawyers are a slipery, tricky set of men. There is not a man or woman in the United States who has ever had anything to do with the profession, who does not know from experience that this is not true, in no class of men is so much confidence daily reposed as in the law yers. There is no right, money, property, nor character that is not every day, and with absolute confidence entrusted to the lawyers. Somebody will say there are bad lawyers. Y'es, and if you will name any profession, trade or calling in which there are not black sheep, then I will say the lawyers are all bad and only bad. Arnot