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SATURDAY NIGHT.
fleeing the little hate all In a row,
Beady ror church en the morrow, yon know;
Washing wee face* and little black flste,
Getting them ready and fit to be kissed;
Patting them Into clean garments and white—
That is what mothers are doing to-night
Spying out holes in the ,itUe worn ho§ ®'
Laying by shoes that are worn at the toea.
Looking o’er garments so faded and thin—
Who but a mother knows where to begin t
Changing a button to make it look right—
That is what mothers are doing tonight
Calling the little ones all round her chair.
Hearing them lisp forth their evening prayer;
Teaching them stories as Joseph of old,
Who loved to gather the lambs ef his fold;
Watching, they listen with weary delight—
That is what mothers are doing to-night.
Creeping so softly to take a last peep,
After the little ones are all asleep;
Anxious to know if the children are warm—
Tacking the blankets round each little form;
Kissing each little face, rosy and bright—
This is what mothers are doing to-night.
Kneeling down gently beside the white bed,
Lowly and meekly she bows down her head,
Praying as only a mother can pray:
»• God, guide and keep them from going astray 1”
BRASS VS. BRAINS.
The Career of J. Byron Smythe, of
Goobertown.
BY MARY K. BRYAN.
I believe I closed my last week’s * quota ’ of
this veracious story by the unfortunate asser
tion, that the ladies did the greater part of the
love making. I have since been roundly taken
to task for this, by more than one pair of cherry
lips, and made to feel my exceeding culpabil
ity, by being told that, ‘ even if it was so—
which it wasn’t, of course—I had no business
telling it.’ This was certainly so; I could only
plead guilty. But having said it, as Morris
sings of his tree,
I’ll stand by it now.”
Ladies, then, do really do more than half the
very great deal of love-making that is done; and
they do it unconsciously two-thirds of the time.
I grant you, they never come bluff to the point
and say, ‘Mr. Toodles, yon have won my young
affections, Sir; will you take me for better or
for worse?’ Their naturally refined tastes forbid
such blunt proceedings; but they can convey
the interesting information to Mr. Toodles quite
as intelligibly, and in a manner peculiar to
themselves. The very blue-veined lids of their
dangerous eyes can say more by the droopiDg
and raising of their silken lashes, than a lover
of the masculine gender could express in a set
speech, it had cost a dozen sleepless nights to
concoct. Even a fan in the hands of a woman
becomes eloquent, and its every wave and move
ment is intelligible—when it is spread before
the face to hide the blushes which are very
often not there, or when it is nervously nibbled
by the white teeth, or coquettishly tossed, or
nsed for playfully tapping a coat sleeve, or for
beckoning to a favored and bashful admirer.
All this feminine art-illery, and more beside,
did the guileless Minnie briDg to bear upon the
heart of the young attorney at law. She mo
nopolized him completely; for, since Miss Rosa-
mond had installed herself and boxes in the
family carryall, drawn by the spectral Rosa-
nante, and turned to be a female Quixote, she
had the field to herself. There was Lizzie to be
sure, but Harry Vale was too intellectual in his
tastes to wish a kitchen maid for a companion,
and who would look at common delf, while such
exquisite porcelain was offered to him ? True,
Harry some times held skeins of silk lor Liz
zie, and darted to pick up her spools or her
handkerchief, whenever they were dropped;
but Harry was a polite young gentleman, and
besides, though he did seem unaccountably
fond of going where Lizzie was, when Miss
Minnie was tenderly anxious for a tele a tele
CD the sofa, or in the jessamine arbor, yet
he rarely spoke to the former, and never ‘ un
bosomed’ himself to her as he did to her sister
—the sweet ‘ song bird.’
Thus Miss Minnie argued as she stood before
the mirror manufacturing the little corkscrews,
she was wont to shake at her admireis in such
a girlish manner; but she forgot that the most
dangerous courtships are carried on by the deli
cate medium of the eye, and that an innocent
young maiden artlessly knitting a lamp mat on
one side of the room, and a no less harmless
young gentleman discussing social ethics with
an old philosopher upon the opposite side of
the same apartment, may telegraph to each
other that they are mutually enamored, swear
eternal constancy and very nearly plan an
elopement, without that ‘unruly member,’
against which Solomon warned us, having any
thing to do with the matter.
Meanwhile, our hero (J. Byron is onr hero,
dear reader,) had designs of his own upon his
young relative. That youthful disciple of
Blackstone having, in an unguarded moment,
when overcome by the importunities of the ten
der Minnie, perpetrated some stanzas for that
young lady’s album, (besides confessing to hav
ing once w ritten an account of a Fourth of July
celebration for the ‘ Weekly Hop o’ my Thumb’)
having, we say, thus exhibited a ‘ literary turn
of mind,’ to borrow Patty’s pet expression, he
was immediately besieged by his distinguished
cousin, the editor, who determined to add him
to the illustrious brood, hovered under the
sheltering wings of the ‘Angel.’ I really think
it was such a beautiful trait in the character of
that wonderful man, (J. Byron Smythe,) that
he evinced so much solicitude about drawing
out the talents of his own family and kindred.
To he sure, there w’ere some uncharitable indi
viduals, who insinuated that it proceeded from
more selfish motives—from the same motives,
in fact, that induced my amiable friend, Mrs.
Tightpurse, to exclaim the other day, ‘Good
ness me ! to tbiiik of that horrid Miss Terry’s
ehaiging six dollars to make my new tjrosgrain.
She shouldn't have it, if it never got made.
I’ll tell you what I can do. A penny saved is a
penny gained, you know; I'll just send for
cousin Lucy to make it. Poor thing ! she’ll be
glad enough to have my company, and I’ll get
her a little present some time—any little trifle;
she won’t think of charging me, of course.
Kinfolks are convenient— sometimes.'
Far be it from me fo impugn any such motive
to the philanthropic Mr. Smythe, whose sole ob
ject, as stated in his editorial salutatory, was to
benefit Goobertown and the world generally,
through the mediumship of the Household
Angel.
However this may he, Mr, Smythe was cer
tainly very r persistent in his solicitations, that
Harry should make his debut in the pages of his
journal, and since the fair Rosamond had ex
changed the eagle for the dove, and laid aside—
for a season, at least—her ‘brilliant pen,’ he had
been urging Harry to write a novellette, that
should succeed ‘Wrong and Retribution,’ which
had jnst wound up in a highly tragical manner,
indeed. It was in vain that Harry protested
that he had no romance in his composition, and
would as soon think of writing a Sancrit bible,
as of hatching the plot of a story. J. Byron
silenced him by an emphatic ‘fudge !’ and Min
nie murmured tenderly, some thing about the
diffidence of genius, while Patty Peony so over
whelmed him with scriptural texts about hiding
talents in napkins and putting lights under
bushels, that he began seriously to believe that
he would be committing an unpardonable sin,in
not sending forth his 'burning' thoughts upon
the wing of this most admirable of Angels. So
at last, the triad were victorious, and Harry
promised, in a short time, to have in readiness
the opening ohapters of the novellette.
‘If I may draw my characters and principle
incidents from real life,’ he added, and Lizzie,
who had beeD the most demure of silent listen
ers, looking on—with only an amused smile
occasionallyplaying around her rose-bud mouth,
— Lizzie, at this, glanced up from under her
brown eye lashes with a look of arch inquiry,
which was answered by one that unaccountably
deepened the roses on her round cheek.
Tue condition was granted, and at its next
issue, the Angel trumpeted abroad that a ‘new
attractive feature might be expected.’ J. Byron
announced the fact in his editorial under the
head of ‘Brilliant romance coming—our readers
will soon have the felicity of devouring a new
and thrilling romance, from the pen of a well-
known and popular author,’ etc. eto.
Goobertown was in a high state of excitement
and expectancy, and nothing was talked of but
the forthcoming romance.
‘Make it as thrilling as possible,’ was the ad
vice of the condescending Byron to his protege.
‘Pile on the agony; mount your highest stilts;
none of your moral T. S. Arthury milk and
water. Throw in plenty of spice; give us
blood and gun powder—love and jealousy—re
venge and the furies general!}’. That always
brings down the house. The plot, you see, is
the principal thing.’
And Harry looked knowing and nodded as
sent.
Two weeks after his promise, he came to ‘Jes
samine Bower’ with a roll of manuscripts, wbicu
the childlike Minnie abstracted from his pocket,
and playfully seating him in the centre of the
room, gathered the literary coterie in a ciicle
around him to listen to the reading of the ‘bril
liant romance.’ A formidable array they pre
sented. J. Byron, in his dressing gown, with
his boots elevated above his head and resting on
the mantlepiece; his sharp little chin bristled
up at an angle of forty-five degrees with the
horizon, and every feature of his small physiog
nomy saying, as plainly as words could do,
‘‘I am Sir Oracle, and when I ope
ify month let no dog bark.”
There was Minnie the matchless, seated near
est the author of the thrilling Ilomance.fanning
him gently with a pink affair about the size of a
robin’s wing, and looking upon him with all the
tenderness she could throw into her skim milk
eyes. Then there was Patty in slip-shod slip
pers and dirty cap, and last, hut by no means
least, Miss Rosamond herself, who, having quar
reled with the Foreign Correspondent and given
him ‘a piece of her mind,’ had returned with
an increased vinegarness of expression, with all
the little sugar in her Dature changed, as she
phrased it, into ‘the gall of bitterness,' and
with very savage proclivities towards all the
pantalooned part of creation generally, and the
Foreign Correspondent in particular. Miss Ros
amond, with her gray eyes looking vindictive
ly over her green spectacles at the interesting
tableau of the embryo author and his enamored
Dulcina (Lord Byron and Mary Chaworth re
hearsed,) certainly did not look as though she
would prove a very lenient critic. Lizzie, hem
ming a bandanna handkerchief for her papa,and
the elder Smythe himself modestly wedged into
the most obscure corner of the sofa, were mere- I
ly outsiders, and did not belong to the critical j
circle. Indeed, the latter, on the intimation
that literary business was to be discnssed, was
on the point of sneaking meekly out as usual,
but Harry begging him to remain, he sat down,
blushing like a miss over her first beau, and
while his promising nephew unfolded the all-
important MSS, and with a prepatory hem and
a tender glance of encouragement, (accompanied
by an incn.'.sed ngitat’on of fhe pink fail,) from
Miss Minnie, began the reading of that start
ling Romance, which the ‘Angel’had announced
with so much empressemenL
‘WHAT WILL BE THE END OF IT ?
A Story Replete with Consequences
The eyes of Mr, Smythe, Jr,, sparkled with
satisfaction.
‘A capital title !’ he exclaimed, ‘and will be
very popular, since Bulwer’s ‘What will he do
with it?’made such titles once the fashion. Then
the addition, ‘A story replete with consequen
ces,’ will be quite taking.’
Harry bowed and proceeded:
‘WHAT WILL BE THE END OF IT?’
A Story Replete with Consequences, and taken from
Real Life.
Here Miss Rosamond, who was brimful of
‘gall,’could restrain herself no longer.
‘That will never do,’ she said, oracularly.
‘People won’t read any thing taken from real
life. The more impossibilities you give them,
the more easily they swallow it, and the better
they like it. It is all fudge about ‘portraits ot
real life’ beiDg the most popular with readers.
They want a jumble of things that never did
and never will happen. Look at Mrs. South-
worth, for instance. She—’
Miss Rosamond turned to vent her amiability
by giving a kick to her crop-eared Tabby, who
was clawing her dress, and J. Byron broke the
thread of her eloquence:
‘My good sister,’ he said, ‘rein in your hobby
for the present, and let our cousin proceed.’
So Mr. Harry went back, and ‘began at the
L?ginning’ again. Truly, this ‘story replete
with consequences, ’ hade fair to be another
‘Sally Dillard,'if the young author was inter
rupted and went back many more times.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
The Stimulants and Food ot Great Men.
BT HABKT BTILIJ.
DANCING.
The following communication is from one of
Georgia’s most popular and widely-known young
ladies. We have in hand an article from our re
ligious editor,, which takes the other side of the
question. She says :
There is much ado about nothing of late. By
nothing, I mean nothing wrong—namely, dancing.
Now, I will preface this by stating that lam not
much of a dancer, because my wind is short; but
I do take exception at the tirade lately made
against this—to me—most innocent of all amuse
ments. “To the pure all things are pure,” and
there was never anything, even in the Sacred Vol
ume, truer than this. Is there anything in this
world that cannot be distorted for evil ? To the
young, it is the luxury of motion, like the colt
turned out to pasture, who must get rid of animal
spirits and exuberance by physical exercise. To
attempt to put evil ideas into the minds of these
young ones is, I think, as injudicious as any im
moral literature would be, for it simply amounts to
this : that they are brought to look upon what to
them was a healthful, enjoyable motion, as a sin
ful, immoral pastime. Lancing is mentioned in
the Sacred Book many times, but never reproached.
Therefore, why should the modern saints have
taken up the cause ? It is spoken of as a sign of
rejoicing, but nothing more. To those evilly dis
posed, it really makes little difference, for the
evil would surely make itself known in some other
way ; to the pure, it has never been a temptation,
I am willing to assert positively.
Augusta, Ga. Terpsichore.
The French minister of war declares that the
Marseillaise shall not be snng in the army. Let
him make the songs of a country, and a fig lor
their laws.
Some singula facts oonoerning the different
stimnlants nsed by men, eminent for the pos
session of one quality or another, are given by
Dr. Paris, an English author of note, in his
“Pharmacologia.” According to this writer,
Hobbes drank cold water when he was desirous
of making a strong intellectual effort. For a
similar purpose, Newton smoked, Bonaparte
took snuff; Pope, strong coffee, and Byron gin-
and-water; and Wedderburn, the first Lord
Ashburton, always placed a blister upon his
chest when he had to make a great speech.
Among men of acknowledged genius and in
tellect, snuff-taking has been very common; it is
possible that it may have been employed by
them as a counter-irritant to an over-worked
brain. Both Pope and Swift indulged in it—
Swift's favorite mixture being made of pounded
tobacco, and ground Spanish snuff. Addison,
Bolingbroke and Congreve were also among its
devotees, and Gibbons was an excessive snuff-
taker. It is stated upon another authority, that
before the beginning, and while delivering a
speech, M. Thiers drank Burgundy as openly as
Pitt used to drink port. A sip was taken fiom
the red tumbler, then a sip from the white; then,
in due historic order, the black-edged handker
chief was mad-c to do its work. Finally, when
all these little tricks of manner had been gone
through with, aiomewhat feeble but clear voice
would speak out with rapid utterance and beau
tiful articulation. Soon this voice would
strengthen, until at times a sentence would ring
through the assembly. The gestures would
grow more animated, and shoot forth like stones
from a catapult, while the cheers and approving
laughter would stop the orator now and then,
enabling him to take breath, a new sip of wine,
and a fresh rub of the handkerchief. “We know
how to increase the amount of blood in our
brains,” says Dr. W. 'A. Hammond, formerly
Surgeon General of the United States army,
“and thus add to the number and brilliancy of
our thoughts. A glass of wine by its action on
the heart, causes it to beat with more force and
frequency, and appears to specially act upon
the cerebral circulation. Eugene Sue never
wrote without a bottle of champagne by his
side, from which he imbibed a great part of his
genius. Others take opium for the same pur
pose; and others again resort to still more dan
gerous means. One of the most effectual and
safest is a cup of strong coffee. Sydney Smith ;
said, ‘if you want to improve your understand- '
ing, drink coffee;’ and Sir James Mackintosh
used to declare that he believed the difference
between one man j^'id another was produced by
the quantity of coffee they drank. Many per
sons have noticed the influence of position on
the activity of thought. Pope used to lie awake
at Dight thinking, and when a particularly
brilliant thought occurred, would ring for pen,
ink, and paper, in order that he might record it
ere it was lost.’’git is related of Thomas Ritchie
that, while editing the Richmond Enquirer, he
did the same thing, with the exception that he
kept writing material and matches in his room,
and would strike a light and jot down his gath
ered thoughts without disturbing the house
hold, and that he would do it the coldest night
that occurred, as well as in pleasant'weather.
It is stated of the engineer Brindley that he used
to retire to bed for a day or tw’O, when he was
reflecting upon a great or scientific subject. Sir
Walter Scott said that the half hour passed in
bed, after waking in the morning, was the part
of the day during which he conceived his best
thoughts. Tissot states that a gentleman, re
markable for hip_^i*a\facy in calculation, for a
wager, laid dow al bed and wrought by mere
strength of mem A, a question in geometrical
progression, wtA Another person iij, another
apartment of the b .Yding performed the same
operation with pen and ink and paper. When
both had finished, the one who had worked
mentally, repeated his product, which amounted
to sixteen figures. The other then stated his,
when the former insisted that the latter was
wrong, and desired him to read over his dif
ferent products. On this being done, he pointed
out the place where the first mistake lay, which
had run through the whole. He paid very
dearly, however, for gaining his wager, as for a
considerable time he had a swimming in his
head, pains in his eyes, and severe headaches
npon attempting any mathematical labor. A
literary gentleman once stated to a writer for
Appleton's Journal, that whenever he was at a
loss for ideas, he would lie down upon a lounge,
and always with good results.
‘Great men are groat eaters,’ would probably
be the first exclamation of one who was given to
over-hasty generalization and there are many
examples to support such a theory. For instance
it ts stated by Motley, in his ‘Rise of the Dutch
Republic,’ that Charles V. was an enormous eat
er. He is said to have breakfasted at five on a
fowl seethed in milk and dressed with sugar and
spices. After this he went to sleep again. He
dined at twelve, partaking always of twenty
dishes. He supped twice, the first soon after
vespers, and the second time at midnight or one
o’clock, which meal was perhaps the most solid
of the four. After each meal he ate a great quantity
of pastry and sweetmeats, and he irrigated every
repast by vast quantities of wine and beer. His
stomach, originally a most powerful one, suc
cumbed after forty years of such labor, and he
died at an age (about fifty-eight) when states
men are considered in their prime—when they
are capable of their greatest intellectual efforts.
The love of pastry seems to have been heredita
ry in the house of Hapsburg. Mr. Motley states
that Philip 11. ‘looked habitually on the ground
when he conversed, was very chary of speech,
embarrassed, and even suffering in manner.
This was attributed! partly to. . . habitual
pains in the stomach, occasioned by his inor
dinate fondness for pastry.’ He was whimsical
withal, and on occasion ordered an auto-
da-fe after a meal of gooseberry tart, which did
not agree with him. What a subject for au his
torical painter!
Frederick the Great was also a big eater. Al
though he could dine on a cracker and a cup of
chocolate when a battle was impending or in
progress, and could live as abstemiously as any
of his soldiers during a campaign, he loved good
eating and drinking, in which he indulged in
ordinately when not 'in the field,’ and to this
over indulgence is attributed his death at an
earlier period than it should have occurred in
course of nature. ‘The king,’ wrote Mirabean,
who was in Berlin at the time, ‘eats every day of
ten or twelve dishes at dinner, each very highly
seasoned, besides at breakfast and supper, bread
and butter, covered with salted tongue and pep
per.’ A short time before a gentleman dined
with Frederick, when an eel-pie was brought to
the table, which he declared was so hot ‘that it
looked as if it had bean baked in hell!’ The
ting was immoderately fond of these eel-pies,
peppered to excess. But about six weeks before
Fredeiick’s death, we have the record of a break
fast such as a sick man has rarely eaten. ‘On
the fourth of July’ 1787, wrote Mirabean, ‘when
the Doctor 'the celebrated Zimmerman, from
Hanover) saw the king in the afternoon, all had
again changed for the worse. He bad applied
himself to public business from 3:30 in the
morning till 7. He then ate for his breakfast a
plate ot sweets composed of sugar, white of eggs,
and sour cream; then strawberries, cherries, and
cold meat.’ What a breakfast for a sick man !’
England can furnish a parallel for the German
in one of her kings who died of eating too ma
ny lampreys, while King John is said to have
died of a surfeit of peaches and new ale, a mix
ture that might well result in the ‘taking off
of almost any man. A writer for Belgravia, a
London magazine, says: ‘William III, the savi
or of onr liberties, both ate and drank more
than was good for him. He loved to sit many
hours at a table; indeed dinner was his chief
recreation. Nothing must interfere with his
enjoyment; the princess Annie might look wist
fully at the dish of yonng peas, but she looked
in vain, for the king ate them all, and never
even offered her a spoonful. She revenged her
self by calling the deliverer ‘Caliban.’ Among
other sovereigns, we find the great Napoleon a
voracious eater. Some one has attributed the
loss of the battle of Leipsic to the effects of a
shonlder of mutton stuffed with onions, with
which the Emperor literally gorged himself so
as to become incapable of a clear mind and vigo
rous action. He ate very fast The state ban
quets at the Tuilleries lasted about thirty-five
minutes. On the other hand, he was no lover
of wine. In that melancholy voyage to St. Hel-
lena, he offended the English officers by rising
from the table before the drinkiDg had fairly
begun. “The general,” one of those prigs had
the brutality to say in his hearing, ‘has evident
ly not studied manners in the school of Lord
Chesterfield.’ Their idea of politeness—cer
tainly Lord Chesterfield’s —was to drink on till
yon dropped under the table
Peter, the Great, was a noted glutton. When
he visited England in 1698, the immense quan
tity of meat which he devoured and the pints of
brandy which he swallowed, were, according to
Macaulay, popular topics of conversation among
the people. But he had his peer in the Roman
Emperor Maximin (A.D. 235—238,) who could,
in one day, eat forty pounds of meat and drink
six gallons of wine, unless the historians lie.
The Roman Emperor Helliogabulas was also a
notable glutton, and withal a dainty fellow, for
he is said to have loved to sup on the tongues
of peacocks and nightingales. He appears to
have been something of a humorist, and would
occasionally give a zest to the pleasures of the
table by assembling companies of guests who
were all fat or all lean, or all tall or all short, or
all bald or all gouty.
Cato said of the drst Cresar, that “of all those
who had helped to overthrow the republic,
Caesar was the only sober man.” It is not the
less true, however, that he loved the pleasures
of the table; that he was fond of “good living,”
and that he was an affable and genial host. As
a guest, he probably gave the finest example of
high breeding that has ever been known. He
was dining out on one occasion, when, accord
ing to Suetonius, some rancid oil was served
with the salad. Every one else made a wry
face, but Cwsar appeared not to perceive the
mistake, and asked for another supply
Correspondents will all have attention
very soon. We have been too much
pressed with business to respond to en
quiries.
THE CONDUCTOR S COLUMN.
The Experiences of an Old Conductor.
Stranger than Fiction.
The mail train on the Western and Atlantic
railroad consisting of mail car, express car, bag
gage, and five coaches drawn by the ‘Virginia,’
with Joe Reward as engineer, was on its upward
trip on the 5th of December, 1863, at eleven
o’clock at night, heavily freighted with passen
gers and convalescents returning to the front —
then Missionary Ridge.
It was one of those horribly dark and drizzling
nights. The mists freezing as they fell on the
ground, crystalized the entire snrfaoe of tho
earth, while the larger trees were tottering with
aD overburden of icioles.
Thus we descended Etowah grade at the rate
of forty miles per hour, slacking speed however
as we approached the bridge. When Reward
struck the south end of the bridge, he discover
ed a man crouched between the tracks only a few
feet before him, but an effort to stop was useless.
The train had cleared the bridge before an en
tire stop was effected, when my engineer inform
ed me that he had most probably knocked a
man off the bridge.
I backed the train to the south side, and with
my crew went down the embankment to the
water’s edge, which is seventy-three feet below,
and there found, lying just in the edge of the
river, a man whom we supposed to be dead.
We secure! a strong blanket and laid the man
gled mass into it, and with one man at each cor
ner of the blanket and one on either side, with
one before pulling and one in the rear pushing,
by means of inserting our disengaged hands
in the frozen earth, we succeeded in climbing
the embankment, which is quite as straight as a
Mansard roof.
We put the half-lifeless creature in the bag
gage-car and moved on across the river, but it
was soon evident that be was not dead and show
ed signs of extreme suffering, occasioned in part
from the motion of the train; whereupon I con
cluded to leave him on the north side of the
bridge at a little cottage that stood uear the
track.
Accordingly the train was stopped in front of
i the door. Notwithstanding the lateness of the
Mohammed, though the founder of a sensual j hour thers was a cosy fire burning in the cottage,
religion which promises a sensual paradise, ; and the lady of the house readily agreed to re-
was himself, according to all accounts, an ab- ! ceive the wounded man and give him the best
stemious man. “Disdaining the penance and attention she could, under the circumstances,
merit of a hermit,” says Gibbon, “he observed ! her husband being absent.
without effort or vanity the abstemious diet of
an Arab and a soldier. On solemn occasions
he feasted his companions with rustic and hos
pitable plenty; but in his domestic life many
I promised to send down a physioian from
Cartersville, distant only two miles,
Accidents frequently occur in the experience
of an old conductor, but the circumstances at-
weeks would elapse without a fire being kin- . tending this one made it a most remarkable one
died on the hearth of the prophet. The inter- ! The man who had been knocked off" the bridge
diction of wine was confirmed by bis example; had fallen seventy-three feet to the ground and
his hunger was appeased with a sparing allow- j escaped with only one thigh broken; he was
ance of barley bread; he delighted in the plate ! picked up by friends and carried over the
of milk and honey, but his ordinary food con- j bridge, to a cottage where a kind lady had agreed
sisted of dates and water.”
The International
Sunday School Conven
tion.
It will be gratifying in the highest degree, to
onr Southern workers, to know that this distin- j
guished body will hold its n%xt session in the ci- J
tyof Atlanta. It will convene’April I7th and con- j
tinue three days. At- it will be the largest, and .
in many respects, tho most important religious j
gathering ever held in the South, a few facts j
connected with its history may not be uninter
esting to onr readers.
In 1832, the National Sunday School Conven
tion was organized in the city of New York, by
a conference of 55 workers of the various de
nominations, called together by the American
S. S. Union. It was composed of 222 delegates
from 14 states and territories; a very re
markable attendance, when we consider the
state of the country at that time, and the fact that
there were scarcely 200 miles of railroad then in
operation. Since that time there have been
four national conventions and one international,
held at the following times and places:
1833-59, at Philadelphia; 1868, at Newark, N. J.
1872, at Indianapolis, Ind. 1875 at Baltimore.
At the last named place, the convention was
styled international, in order that Canada might
hereafter be entitled to representatives. On the
title page of the proceedings of the Baltimore
Convention, we read: “First international sixth
national convention.”
The chief objects of this grand association of
Christian workers is, to excite a deeper aDd more
general interest in the Sabbath School cause,
and to secure better organization and man- j
agementin every department of the work. The j
grandest conception of the 19th century is the ;
outgrowth of thiH convention: the international
uniform system of Bible lessons. The plan was j
inaugurated at Indianapolis by the appointment I
of a committee of distinguished gentlemen
to take care of him until I could send a physi
cian to his relief; and while she was adjusting
the coarse but clean white pillow beneath his
head she recognized him as her own husband.
The scene can better be imagined than describ
ed. He recoverod afterwards, proved to be a
faithful Confederate soldier, and now lives in
Northeast Georgia. ' Old Conductor.
FAMILIAR QUOTATIONS.
j Pliny.—“Ha picked something out of every
j thing he read. ”
j Drummond.—“He that will not reason is a
| bigot; he that cannot reason is a fool; and he
that dares not reason is a slave.”
Lavater.— The more honesty a man has, the
less he affects the air of a saint.”
Pope.—‘"The worst of madmen, is a saint
rnn mad.”
Colton.—Men will wrangle for religion; write
for it; fight for it; die for it; anything—but live
for it.
Bacon.—“He that studieth revenge keepeth
his own wounds green.”
Burke.—“An extreme vigor is sure to arm
eY>rything against it.”
Byron.—“Passion raves herself to rest or
flies.”
Do.—Vice digs her own voluptous tomb.”
Bacon.—“Reading maketh a full man confer
ence a ready man, and writing an exact man,”
“Histories make man wise; poets, witty; the
mathematics, subtile; natural philosophy deep;
moral, grave; logic and rhetoric, able to con
tend. ”
“I hold every man a debtor to his profes
sion.”
“Herbert.—Dare to be true, nothing can need
a lie. ”
Cowper.—‘ Vanriety is the only spice of lifa’
Emro.—‘A simple word gows important from
the lips of the noted.’
‘It is the service which gives effect to words.
Hesiod.—‘It will not always be summer.’
Wilkes. —‘The very worst use to which you
Hare.-
j masculine, of honor.’
Pope.—‘To err is human, to forgive divine,’
’All looks yellow to the jaundic’d eye.’
•With loads of learned lumber in his head.’
‘ What mighty contests rise from trivial
things.’
‘Look on her face, and you'll forget them
all.’
whose duty it was to select passages of Script-! oa °I )ut a wan, is to hang him. ’
nre from the old and new Testaments which i Hare. ‘ I urity is the leminine, truth the
should be taught in all the schools at the same
time. This committee was composed of five
ministers and five laymen, two from each of the
following denominations: Methodist. Presby
terian, Baptist, Episcopalian, and Congrega
tionalism
The series of Scripture texts selected by this
Committee, and running through a course of,
seven years, are now ased more or less by every • * , every word a reputation dies,
nation on the earth. Next Sabbath, the same j And see through all things with half shut
lessons will be taught in China as America, in j 0 y ea -
Japan as in England, in Australia as in France! j ‘Charms strike the sight, bat merit wins the
The most important matter that will come before I 80a !*
the approaching Convention will be to decide ' ‘No creature smarts so little as a fool.’
the question as to what shall be the next series i
of Scripture lessons. The question of uniformi- j
ty Is settled beyond any shadow ot a cavil, but j
there may be a difference of opinion as to whe- I
ther the old series shall be repeated or a new
one adopted.
The Atlanta Convention will, doubtless, be
the largest ever held, as the North and North
west will send their usual delegation, and the
South aud Southwest (whose connection with
the Convention heretofore has been almost nom
inal) will send much larger delegations than
ever before.
Rev. T. C. Boykin, a member of the Execu
tive Committee who has in charge the Southern
aud South-Western delegations, has very suc
cessfully worked up his field aud is very confi
dent that every Southern state will be repres
ented, and that the nearer states will send their
full quota of delegates.
Arrangements have been made on nearly all
of the roads in the United States to pass dele
gates at reduced rates of fare. Atlanta will bo
doubt maintain her high reputation for hospit
ality. AU who are willing to entertain delegates
sbonld make it known to the Local Committee.
Any information concerning the appointment
of delegates can be obtained from Rev. T. C.
Boykin, Atlanta. Each state is entitled to twice
as many delegates as she has representatives in
Congress.
Virginia haB been presented with a magnifi
cent telescope by McCormick, the wealthy inven
tor. We are glad of it She may now discover
what chances she has to pay her debt
‘The creature's at his dirty work again,'
‘The things we know, are neither rich nor
rare.’
‘It i» °ot poetry, bat prose run mad.’
‘Damn with faint praise, assent with civil
leer.
‘And sit attentive to his own applause.’
•Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel ’*
d^Wit that can oreep, and pride that licks the
‘To rock the cradle of reposing age.’
‘To run a muck, and tilt at all I meet’
‘The feast of reason and the flow of SO nl.’
NEW AbV ERl’lSEM ENTS.
notice
Incompliance with law, notice is hereby given tbs'
all the Stock owned by each of us in the Georgia Bank*
mg and Trnst Company, has been sold and transferred.
M. G. DOBBINS,
JNO. D. CUNNINGH AM
swim aim on iTiiI lives ni co.
Robert Bonner, s.i. Agent,
Office—3,1 Forsyth Street, p. o. Box
Just received this day
3 grow of regular PADS.
2 gross of special PADS
X gross BODY PLASTERS,
tll 1 aro ™ of foot plasters
144-01
At New York price*
144-flm