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) 8 Emm 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