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REGRET. BY AMELIA V. PURDY. Remorse is the mental cancer and not less, Is thy pain, oh Regret! In August's noon—December's midnight hours, Thy fiery sting is set, And bitter memories or sweet, shall make The heart thro' life to ache. Tho’ the Jubilates may keep the higher notes, The low are a Threnody; The undercurrent runs in waves of sound, Sad as a winter sea; And fair things are less fair because of this, And a fainter flush is on the rose 1 wis. What Is life worth thus marred ? and still Tho’ many us would forget. The dear, dear dead beneath the lilies pale, On whom our souls were set, Who would forget the joys of earth although. Not e'en one crocus, peeped above life s snow . If sweet the memory and anchored fast, To the piers of the Never More; If the fair Argosies that proud hearts built, Lie, wrecked upon the shore, Who would forget, tho’ thought allied up h^ 1 O'er the flowers that died, and the hopes of the summer years ? Mad all Her Days. Bj MRS. AMELIA T. PURDY. CHAPTER II. He is satisfied that his estimate of the glitter ing banker is correct, while compelled to ac knowledge that Horton is a humanitarian in its noblest sense, for the humblest and poorest man is courteously received, ana he is foremost in the ranks of the charitable, and above and superior to the petty instinct that causes man to freeze to the fellow creature who labors. They talk awhile and separate, and Camber, on the other side of the street, watches Horton, stopping now to lift up a little ragamuffin who has slipped on the ice, walking a square out of his way now, to show a woman, whose bonnet looks like it was intoxicated, the street she can not find, and says, with a curl of the lip : ‘It is so easy to fool this old world of ours, and pleas ant words yield ten thousand per cent, profit. That bow to the old cobbler, that pat on the head of the candy-man’s latest item, that assist ance to that fac simile of 'Mrs Gummidege’ will win their hearts and they^l bring him what he is working for—their deposits. He has not the eyes of an honest man—they are non-committal, as are always the eyes of the financial genius. Why one of the coolest bears in Wall street has no more expression in his eyes than a fish. It is only your child-natures that are going around proclaiming every emo tion through the eyes, but while Croesus is king, who is going to notice that his eyes deal in the dead languages, Sancrit or Coptic that none may read. The mouth that on the poor man is the sign of idiocy is on Astor or Vander bilt a large mouth, a capacious mouth, indica tive of wisdom. Adversity is the aqua fortis that tells how much of the gold is gold, so, mod ami, while your ‘guineas ring’ the people will worship, bat look out for the hail storm of stones when the dark days set in.’ Salome hears nothing but praise of the great banker whom society adores. She sees him and is struck by the masterful brows and power of the fine face, and each evening she peeps through the blinds to see him going home in his unos tentatious buggy. She watches him one day, while he assists a poor corner huckster to re cover his stock that a bad school boy had scat tered, and sees how he gives her a handful of nickles to compensate for some candy ruined in the ooze of the gutter, Laughing gaily at his novel employment, as some ladies drove by, and looking so handsome, so like the gentle men of long-gong by ages, and of a chivalry of which not a vtbtige remains, that the .impres sionable guileless girl was won on the spot. A week later she is at a costume ball, dressed as a grand dame of the old regime. Her dress is gold brocade, powdered with tiny white lilies, the train several yards in length. Her laces are priceless. Point, creamy with time, and the powdered hair is rolled back from the temples, and girt about with pearls the size of marbles—heirlooms, as were also the laces and brocade. She seems to have stepped down from a picture, and no lady of Versailles, ere Maria Antoinette went to her death, could have been prouder and fairer than this girl in her shimmering gold brocade. Cumber is a corsair by right of his slender grace and Spanish beauty. His dazzling black eyes are full of misery, and just now his fabu lous wealth, his intellect and all things on earth are as valueless to him as the snow that whirls through the quiet streets, or the colder stars that twinkle above. His heart aches fiercely as Salome goes by with Mr. Horton, who to-night personates Sir Philip Sidney, and he sees that she is enthralled, fascinated, the girl whom he loves as he never loved before, and the hem of whose garment he does not feel that he is worthy to touch. Camber is strictly honorable in bis deal ings with men, truthful because a stranger to fear—truth is as much a matter of temperament as the color of the eyes; and the brave are gen erally true. A mrn may do a brave act, under the impulse of excitement, who is not conscious ly brave, and the difierence between spasmodic heroism and every-day heroism is the difference between the shadow and the substance. He is strictly temperate, generous and kind of heart, with an old-fashioned reverence for religion, that causes him to recoil from the profane and the vulgar, and yet his reputation as a libertine is notorious, which fault, or) crime, to call things by their true names, the virtuous in society, overlooked and beauteous half blown lily buds, giris whose souls were, in the first sweet flush of youth, tried with the utmost delicacy to call back the smiles to that face of the man who turned from them, one by one, courteously and coldly, to communo with his bitter thoughts : ‘ He has taken her in, as he has duped the men around him,’ he muttered, glaring down upon them as they moved before him in the minuet of by-gone generations, ‘and when she finds it out, it will kill her, If she had but given me her hand, I would have spared no pains to reach her altitude. She could have exalted me. He will keep up his domino till the curtain falls, fearing her, or dare her and trust to her strong love to hold her, and if he does the last, he will find that honor is more to her than life and she will leave him. Horton ! I do not envy you either way; first think of being a mounted and armed sentinel always on guard, and afraid of exposure, to be weighing every expression and masking every glance to never know the blessedness of free dom, and to keep up the deception for years and years. I would not change places with you even to win her.' . . A lady taps him on the arm and says indicat ing, Horton and Salome. . T *1 think that will be a match—out of fiction, I do not know two such perfect characters, they really ought to have lived in the days of the Round Table.’ , •Yes,’ Camber smiles sardonically, 1 tninK he would have made a splendid Sir Lancelot, and if in a little while she could come down the stream with her bright hair all unbound, as did ‘Elaine’ and anchor at his feet—dead, it would be all the better for her.’ •It hurts you that bad,’ the lady replies, bhe is Mrs. Holmes, a gay frivolous woman and has known Camber from boyhood—they are the same age and have been inseparable friends since in fancy, and she is indignant. ‘Wha$ is the reason you havn’t better s ense than to want a woman you can’t get?’ .then sympathetically: ‘The idea of you being set aside for any man—the girl is an out and out idiot. She hasn’t the capacity to know dia mond dust when she sees it; I said Horton was a perfect character, but so far as I am concerned I consider dead perfection an intolerable nuis ance. I wouldn't live in the house with one unless I was compelled to. That girl would be happier with you, if you are a sinner and you 11 see it, I declare, Lon, you look like you were going to set for a picture--your face is as long as your cane ! Let me introduce you to Grace Wilmot She is new and fresh and a beauty. Reckless and daring, and just the sort of a girl to chase away the blues, Cam.’ He shakes his head. ‘I couldn’t appreciate dash and frivolity to night. Do you see that girl over yonder in dark merino ? I think she could administer to a mind diseased, do you know her ?’ Mrs. Holmes laughs: ‘She is a poor relation of Mrs. Deane s. She has a small milliner shop in a back street. I know her as we know people of that class. I buy the children’s hats there.’ Camber’s keen eyes glance over the belles and beauties and fix themselves on the poor relation. She has a powerful face and widely opened, lus trous, beautiful iron-grey eyes. Faultless straight black brows and long black lashes. The fore head is heavy with thought. The mouth is stern, complexion like a tube rose. Her hair is swept back from her massive forehead and coil ed in a huge knot low on her neck. She has the hazel hair of the poets that is two-thirds gold and it waves like crepe or the waters of the sea. The cose is Roman. The tout ensem ble proud, strong and stern. She is medium height and very slender, would not weigh over ninety pounds, and her hands and feet are daintily small. She is not beautiful, there is a strength and masculinity about intellectual wo men, that render the softness and delicacy in- seperable to beauty, impossible. ‘If she was a man, with that head and faoe, she would make her mark in the world, and as a woman she nuust also be great. There’s a big brain behind that jutting brow. In the good time coming when you all get your rights, wo men with her style of face will be our Presidents and Chief Justices, and we men will vote for them too, I know I would.’ ‘Mrs. Holmes demurs: ‘She’s awfully strong-minded;she’ll make you so thoroughly out of conceit with yourself in five minutes that you’ll be ready to crawl into a mouse hole. I’ll introduce you, but afterwards I’ll take my exit. She has a horror of butter flies and I have a horror of bright women.’ She takes him over; as they cross the room he says: ‘A little quinine after so many sugar plums will be refreshing.’ ‘Oh, you’ll get quinine,’ laughs Mrs. Holmes, ‘and to ad nauseam I’d think.’ ‘Miss Deane, allow me to turn over to your tender mercies, Mr. Leonidas.Camber, literati, diletanti, ex-physician and philosopher of the Diogenes school, who is tired of sugar plums, surfeited with praise and craves quinine, let me beg of you to give him a heroio dose, if you real ly think he needs a tonic.’ The keen eyes meet his own laughingly as Mrs. Holmes floats away. She shows no trepi dation or embarrassment and her heart flutters not at all, though she knows that the. catch of the city is beside her,milliner as.sh'S -is. How her face lights from eyes to lips, each feature instinct with life, as she remarks: ‘I have very little time to give you, but you are welcome to that. I am general supervisor of the supper and only looked in to see the dancers.’ ‘You are a stranger,’ he replies, ‘even in a city as large as this, if I had ever met you,. I would remember it.’ ‘You wonld not l,e lik°ly to meet me* «x ?ept on the street.’ She smiles at his implied com pliment. ‘I keep a milliner store on Western Row near Elizabeth. When the “rainy days” came I essayed teaching, but for certain reasons abandoned it and took up that which the world holds less respectable, but which is more remu nerative. I understand Mrs. Holmes’ nonsense about quinine. There are men and women to whom a heroic dose of adversity would be a God-send. I trust it is not so with you.’ ‘I thin kit is,’ he replies with s ring emphasis. ‘I know your life is heroic, and being heroic it will be contagious. Tell me more about your self and then I will make you my physician and let you prescribe.’ ‘There is little to tell,’ she returns. ‘I am the eldest of four children, my father is dead, my mother is blind and I have a sister, Pearl by name, aged fourteen, who has never walked, an other sister, Daisy, aged twelve and a brother, St. Albert, whom we call Bertie, aged three. I don’t call my life heroic; I simply do my duty. Men support such families everywhere and no one gives it a thought, why shouldn’t I—I am strong and capable.’ He thrills with very shame as she concludes and honestly gives her a description of his idle, frivolous, aimless, sinful life. She listens in tently then says: ‘I don’t understand sentimental, effortless as pirations. Why don’t you resolve to be good and to do good, and go ahead and do it. Tho change of heart takes place the instant man sickens of sin, and resolves to amend his life. If my hand persisted in obeying the dictates of a thievish instinct, I would go to the yard and chop it off with the ax. Resolve right now to be a just steward of the great wealth God has given you, and seek opportunities to do good. Many people wait for distress to come to them to be relieved, and so lose the greatest pleasure the human heart can experience. Mr. Camber, if you crawled to-day, walk erect to-morrow, try to feel that you are exceedingly precious to God and that some day you will become an inhabi tant of the city where He reigns, and grieve him no longer by working evil.’ I suppose you think it will be easy’ he observ ed ‘What does a young girl know of the tempta tions that allure men ?’ ‘The stronger the foe the (greater the victory,’ she answers. ‘ No, I think it will be a harder battle than Waterloo. It will require eternal vigilance, and you must never sleep on duty or the pickets of the enemy will capture you.' ‘ Hard ! My dear sir, the every day battles of life surpass in grandeur, the glories of Waterloo, Austerlitz or Wagram. When I found that my life of ease and luxury was over, I wanted to die; I felt perfectly unnerved. To make labor a success I had to go to work to revolutionize my self and change habit and thought. It was a weary work and I made slow progress, but I succeeded, I trampled false pride under foot and learned to distinguish betweefi luxuries and necessaries and learned to be thankful that I have health and strength to work, I think the hardest t«sk ever attempted is to reconstruct self. Long ago, I thought there could be noth ing harder than German and Latin, but I have since learned that it is harder to take the best in you and out of this to construct a new being.’ This girl was a revelation to him, she did not look eighteen, but a great soul looked down from the big eyes—a soul that would never falter or fail, but take on new strength in time of need. ‘I am needed now,’ she said rising to her feet ‘And onr yonng ladies are even now holding an indignation meeting because I have monopoliz ed yon so long. From their expression they think you are crazy. Mr. Camber I will bid yon good night’ He detains her with an emphatic ‘wait,’ and is at a loss to express himself as he desires. ‘You have interested me very much,’ he says, after a moments thought, ‘may 1 beg that our acquaintance may continue ? In a thousand ways you can help and benefit me. I have friends who laugh at me when I am thoughtful and joke when I am troubled. Every man needs the friendship of a God fearing great-heart ed woman. Let me be a brother to you, there can be no danger to you; women of your culture do not wear their hearts in their bands, so there could be no falling in love on either side, I am the victim of unrequited affection even now, and in sore need of a consoler. I have no sisters or brothers and if you will let me be your friend it will make me a better man.’ Her eyes falter and droop, aroused lights in their deaths. ‘I accept your friendship; it has at least the merit of originality and if lean bene fit you I shall be proud to do so. To be the Savior of any soul is a grand distinction. Good night.’ ‘She smiles and vanishes through a side door and he goes over to his sworn ally. ‘Is she interesting ?‘ Mrs Holmes asks. ‘Very,* he replies ‘shehas the downright earn estness and energy of Martin Luther. ‘ ‘Homely,’ says Mrs Holmes sententiously. •Homely !’ with stroDg indignation, ‘How can anyone be homely who has splendid eyes and a complexion like untrodden snow and wonderful hair full of imprisoned sunbeams?’ ‘Mrs. Browning said the nose was the sun of the face and the rest of the features were its sat- elites. Every feature in her face is beautiful but her nose; I detest a Roman nose on a wo man’s face, it makes her so masculine; Miss Dean has a man’s face, you ait bound to ac knowledge that.’ ‘Mrs. Browning wrote nonsense like other great folks,’ he retorted, ‘and many of her po ems are splendid, just because she wrote them. Nose indeed ! Complexion and brows and eyes make a woman beautiful or the reverse. Till the intellect is located in the nose that feature will never rank the eyes and forehead. Think of Michael Angelo, whose nose was terrible, and of Socrates who had scarcely any at all. iEsop too.’ ‘Well, nose or no nose, she has low ideas. Her aunt offered her a luxurious home and wanted to adopt her. The aunt said her plan was to put the cripple and the other two in the Orphan Asylum and put Mrs. Deane in the Blind Asylum. She felt that Yale would make a grand match if she had proper advantages. She is highly accomplished, speaks several lan guages, sings divinely and is a proficient in music. Yale refused her kindness, keeps her family together and works like a slave. She is only eighteen and ought to have more worldly wisdom. Why, if she had accepted her aunt’s offer, in a year, perhaps, she could take all her folks out of the Asylum and give them a luxuri ous home. She calls that old, dingy shop a home and I suppose she’ll marry some illiterate mechanic, unless the old Southern prejudice to mechanics clings to her; that may save Her. Her lather was called a millionaire and after his death it was discovered that he was insolvent. She was educated in Paris. I don’t belive in self-crucifixion; Sir Boyle Roibe was wise when he said, ‘Wny should we do so much for posteri ty, what has posterity done for us?’ and I say the most thankless business anyone can embark in is starving for people who never do anything for us. My motto is, look out for number one, always; why, just look at her, she was plump when she came here and her form was beautiful. She is actually skinny now; don’t fall in love with her, she’ll blow away some windy day.’ ‘Have you eDjoyed yourself this evening?’ he asks, desiring to change the subject. . ‘No’ disconlentedly, ‘Mjss Gordon’s dress eclipses mine, and I didn’t know such pearls were ever found outside of royal palaces, and those flounces are pld Point.’ ‘Awful dir jy lace’ sayt-Oi.niVf'tV- Vhatmakfic you women all like dirty laces/' When I marry I will not let my wife wear it. I 'see collars now and then on women that look like ii^y had been pick ed up out of the gutter—whav fools women are i’ Mrs. Holmes coughs. ‘I Dover knew a wo man to wear dirty lace, but we all have a weak ness for laces grown yellow with time. Good night! Don’t giieve too much for ma belle and don’t say Miss Gordon’s flounces are dirty where she can hear you; they cost thousands of dollars. ’ She goes away with her husband who is half drunk, and slaps him soundly when the carriage turns homeward, for he has been particularly trying to-night aDd her temper is none of the best. Generally he receives his punishment good naturedly, but to-night he did not want to go home and so he swears at her in a helpless, childish way, while she scolds furiously, and yet, dress being her god she is not miserable, and while the beauty of her clear-cut face lasts she will have all the admiration she needs, and with admiration and dress and money she will not grieve for the solid joys of life; till beauty dies, —the clear-cut face becomes a sharp-cut face, sunken of temples and mouth and cheeks, and pointed of chin. Th6n as an aged virago she will be the terror of old and young, shun ned by the neighbors and tolerated bv the rela tives who for very shame’s sake can nothhrow her off. In every town you can put your finger on a wemen like this. In 6very town there are wo men, who, as old women will bo utterly abom inable because they will not cultivate the heart- grace necessary to make them lovely and lovable when age rob3 them of beauty. In the time surely coming to all who live, when if they have not a pleasant disposition and pleasant speech, they have nothing in God’s world to recom mend thorn and are simply a nuisance on the earth. The evening of the next day Mr. Camber walks into the little milliner shop. Val6 re ceives him cordially and takes him into her back room, and introduces him first to her mother—a tall, slender, exceedingly beautiful woman of fifty, with a profusion of silver curls, whose brilliant brown eyes look so natural that it is difficult for him to believe tho soul of the eyes had departed; theD to a child more like a seraph than a mortal child. Sh«» is of lilli- putian propotions and is dressed in white. Her eyes are large, dreamy and dark as indigo. Her features are flawless and her hair fails about her in a glorious shower of curls, the gold that infants and angels wear, and that no grown wo man has ever worn. Fashioning ribbon into bows sits a girl of twelve, a brnnette and royal ly beautiful. She will be as (imperious as an empress some day, and she has the masterful face of the elder sister and her directness and intellect. Mrs. Dean engages in conversation and he is charmed; the little girls take part in the conversation and evince deep cultnre. \ale now and then puts in her bright head from the store to say some thing pertinent and witty. She seems to have quite a run of custom. Little folks for crotchet needles and tatting shuttles and skeins of worsted so that she cannot leave the counter, but on the whole it is a bright visit and exhilerating as mountainair. ‘A wonderful family,’ he muses, as he turns his steps homeward. ‘I am glad I have made their acquaintance; they are refined enough for the court of St. James, and even the children are great readers. A specimen, I suppose of the ‘uncultured brute,’ his lips curled, ‘and I do not know a family in this city to compare to them in any respect—poor as they are. ’ He goes again, and Mrs. Deane is out visit ing at a neighbor’s, and there is no one to en tertain him but the little cripple Pearl. Vale is busy in the store with some customers, and so he sits down and lifts the little girl on his lap and pillows the innooent head on his breast, feeling a deep, delicious sense of purity as the golden curls streamed over his arm, and the wee faoe, sweet as a flower and white as a pearl, is lifted smilingly to his. She tells him of their old fairy home, near New Orleans, of the orange groves, and the mimic lakras, and of the yearly trip to Europe, and of mama’s diamonds, and the gay reunions in the St. Charles hotel, and the parlor theatricals, and the wild, gaj life in the wildest and gayest city in the nation— the Paris of the Republio. Then of the failure and of her fathers suicide, and her mother’s blindness through trouble, and stops, for Vale 1 enters to don hat and shawl, after which she 1 takes the market basket and goes to market, and the child continues the story. (TO BE CONTINUED.) CLARKSVILLE, GEORGIA. An Old Resort of Southern No bility. As Clarksville is attracting a large number of visitors regaining the popularity which it form erly eDjoyed and will always deserve, we feel that a brief sketch of its history will not be un interesting. Unlike the towns that have sprung up on or adjacent to the Air Line Railroad, and which have developed a wealth and prosperity rival ing Western enterprise and advancement, Clarksville is a very old town and fifty years ago, though sixty miles had to be traversed by private conveyance to reach there, it entertain ed greater crowds than at any period since the war. The old village is pretty mnch the same to day as then; in fact, we believe the same mate rial composes it, and we remember hearing one of its ancient admirers remark, that on return ing to it after an absence of twenty years it seem ed perfectly familiar even to its ancient piazzas. But the chief of Clarksville’s former glories, the wealthy and elegant society, who attracted by thegloriou climate and scenery of the place, established their summer homes in its vicinity, have in great 'measure disappeared, and the places that knew them so long will know them no more, until wealth such as they lavished then, return to bless Southern firesides. While the Indian tribes were still scattered through the forests abounding with game and valleys yielding bountiful harvests, a number of Montagues and Capulets from the Southern portions of this State and Carolina were attract ed by the scenery and fertility of the coimty, and speedily appropriating extensive meadows and woodlands, they induced their friends to do likewise, and so Clarksville represented one of the most elegant and fastidious circles of so ciety in the United States. Hon. Richard W. Habersham, U. S. Senator from South Carolina, may be regarded as the pioneer of this Southern Switzerland, and in honor of him the county was named. Among other names which are still retained there over the ruins ot their former homes, are Alstons? and Mathews, of Charleston,’the Waldbergs, Clinches, Warings, Johnsons, Kollocks, Owens’ Bei?rins, Laws, Mungeans and"McAllisters, of Savannah, while Augusta was represented in her two wealthy and prominent citizens, Robert Campbell and William Smith. Ten miles above Clarksville is the celebrated Nacoochee Valley, and here Maj. Edward Wil liams established his permanent and hospitable home. It is one of the greatest pleasures of memory to trace old landmarks, and we are glad to learn that Maj. Williams’ children, one of whom is the distinguished George W. Wil liams, of Charleston, are still in possession of nearly the entire valley. Those mentioned and other families found in the superior climate and soif of the plaJo u fine field to ile. o s <p the. * iJoss o'f scen ery and architecture; and art blending with na ture, lent all the charms that culture could sug gest or wealth obtain. The ladies availed themselves of the bracing climate and rich vegetation to attain their ideals of flowers and lawns, and these soon became en deared to them by the work of their own hands. But the white and cypress pine, the mountain laurel and lily, the wild ivies, azalias and ferns which fiourisn there in natural beauty, surpass ed all exotics, and were brought from their wild retreats to adorn the spacious grounds. Then there was competition among the fair sex as to who should soonest regain the full round weight and blooming complexion whieh recent dissipation as city belles had deprived them of. Long walks and regular hours and habits soon dismissed all traces of languor and fatigue, and a Clarksville equestrienne could readily be distinguished by the grace and ease of her horsemanship. Tne gentlemen to dis pel the idea of perfect indolence, devoted sev eral hoars of each day to the management of their farms, and a strong though friendly con test sprang up, as to whose fields should dis play the richest harvests and whose farms could exhibit the finest specimens of horses and cat tle. Visitors were always impressed with the vari ety and adaption of the soil to any production, and the ingenious designs which some exercis ed in the arrangement. The bold refreshing springs which abound here, ggirgled their wa ters into marble or granite basins and were walled over with artistib style and beauty. Such avocations, along with their journals and correspondence, occupied these lords of creation during the morning unless called away for the day on 3ome hunting or fishing excur sion. That fearful ordeal, a dinner party, it was a part of their tactics to shun, but some times a flanking invitation would seat them all at a dinner table from which they knew there was no hope of rising for hours, because fash ion proscribed it and tha knowledge quenched their appetite and extinguished their ideas. The male tribe therefore regarded any invi tation for the morning as an encroachment on their freedom; but the afternoon, it was under stood, would be given up to social enjoyment, for then the different households would sally forth to meet at some try sting place, from whence all would proceed together to visit some of the various points of interest with which the country abounds. . The everlasting hills and endless mountain ranges with their deep gorges and cascades, furnish excursionists with varied scenery for seasons, and there were four Meccas at which wo pilgrims of nature could never cease to wor- ship with feelings of awe and reverence. Tal lulah and Toccoa falls, Yonah and Tray moun tains each some ten miles apart, claimed an annual visit and all of that old party who sur vive, recall the days spent there as among the happiest of their lives. One day’s ramblings among those hills and glades would effect a greater friendship between young couples than formal intercourse of a year in the city. And thus Clarksville became a great place for courtships and engagements, and lovers would frequently delay the question that was to de cide their fate, until summer, when the city belle as a country girl had thrown off her for mality, and also that he might avail himself of sublimity and romance to convey the desired impression. Place a young couple in each other’s society for a day, as we were privileged to be, surround them with the soenery and emotions which the country ^affords, added to the fair one’s dependence on her escort’s strength and protection, and if a lover fails in his addresses, we feel safe to assert that either the unfortunate man was predestined for a bachelor, or some other marriage was made for him in heaven. th ® return from our evening drives we would all alight at some common home for the evening, where we would revel in music, theat ricals and dancing in moderation, for we kept early hours and this was a dreadfully particular set of fathers and mothers, and some of these papas used to think that we ought previously to obtain promisBion from them, before asking their daughters to become our wives. Well they were particular and austere, but always charac terized by honor and nobility, and it is a mel ancholy thought that they are all dead now ; all dead. Only two who mingled with that group surviye this writing and they are permanent residents of Clarksville. We allude to the elder Dr. Phillips and Jarvis Van Buren who though their faculties for social enjoyment are weaken ed, still retain that elegance and courtesy of manner which age or disease can never impair and which we pilgrims of a fading generation are so fond of connecting with an age that has past. Nearly all visitors to Clarksville are affected by the soothing drowsy feeling which overpowers them for the first few days, ‘but which does not prevent their enjoying perfect repose through the cool short nights, for their twilight seems only to end in moonbeams, and the sun appreciates Claksville and visits it early. Sitting on the favorite hillside, watching through the soft, hazy atmosphere, the ever changing sunshine and shadows on the moun tains, “How sweet it were hearing theilownward stream. With half shut eyes ever to seeni, Falling asleep in a half dream.” We consider it easy to acconnt for the stagna tion which has retarded advance or progress in Clarksville. The natives are a self satisfied class of people, with little or no desire for improvement, und content to eke out a living from the accommo dating soil, though placing exorbitant prices on their places, if called upon to sell. The wealthy class of people who nsed to as semble there, did not go to save, but to enjoy their money, and so it was generally scattered into the pockets of the rustics, who thus learn ed in a great measure to look for support, on what they received during the summer. Then the farming dpne by these gentlemen was for pleasure and diversion; the rich harvest abund antly supplied theirtables during their sojourn, and their cattle the year round, while on each one’s farm one or more families were quartered who received their living at the hands of these easy, well-to-do landlords as compensation for watching over their places. And now, while stating that excellent corn whisky can be procured very cheaply in this country, the Clarksville Temperance lodge de serves mention, for it is th'e same old joke. There is a prolonged tooting of horns, the temperance saints rally to be entertained(?) for hours by the jaw bone of some ass, on the glories of sobriety, and then—are first next morning in being fined for a drunken spree. Bacchus is consistent with his votaries, however; while they worship him, his spirits keep'up their spirits. But temp erance must, prevail; the ruling passion proves strong under arrest. While these advocates are being escorted to the calaboose they exhort the at tendant policeman on the folly of a single glass, and drink from an imaginary bottle toasts to total abstinence. We looked with surprise, almost displeasure, at the crowded hotels o'f Gainsville and Toccoa City, and marvelled to hear them spoken of as equal to Clarksville, because in our judgement none of the new places can compare with the old resort, either in climate, water or scenery. When the railroad, now in process of con struction to Clarksville, is completed, and rea dy transportation furnished for the products of the fruitful soil, this section will at once be come the g r *in and market garden,, and wnen direct access is gained to this bracing climate and beautiful scenery, the vicinity will imme diately resume its old sway as .the great Bum mer resort. But it will be long before such another cir cle assembles as the one gathered together by those old-time Southern gentlemen. As we said, they are all dead now; the last few vene rable landmarks, who lingered as travelers by the wayside, are gathered to their fathers and have gone to join the innumerable throng. And their hospitable mansions closed at the close of a season, and left, just as they would have left them for an afternoon’s drive, proved during the war, rich mines of spoil and plun der for marauding bands and dishonest villag ers, who ransacked and then frequently burnt them. Well, we are glad that Clarksville is rising. We would like to see the old place, so dear by association and deserving by its natural charms, once more rivalling famous Northern resorts, and as we sigh over old times, “How sweet it were To lend our hearts and spirits wholly To the influence of mild melancholy; To muse and brood and live again in memory, With those old faces of our infancy Heaped over with a mound of grass.” Let Girls be Gibes.—One of the crying evils of the times is the tendency and disposition of girls to get through girlhood hurriedly and get into womanhood, or rather into young lady hood, without waiting to enjoy the beautiful season of girlhood. Speaking on this point, Bishop Morris says: ‘Wait patiently, my dear children, throngh the whole period of your girlhood. Go not after womanhood; letitcome to you. Keep out of public view. Cultivate retirement and modesty. The cares and re sponsibilities of life will come soon enough. V/hen they come you will meet them, I trust, as true women should. But oh ! be not so un wise as to throw away your girlhood. Rob not yourselves of this beautiful season, which, wise ly spent, will brighten all your future life.’ The Train Robbers Captured. Salt Lake, June 3.—A party of eleven men from Rawlins, Wyoming, captured the train robbers and overhauled them forty-five miles north of St. Mary’s station. There was but lit tle resistance. The only arms in the possession of the robbers were revolvers, while their pur suers were armed with long range rifles. Three shots only were fired. The robbers at first de nied their crime; but, influenced by threats and the application of a rope, one of them con fessed and pilotted the party to where the watches and money were concealed. This one turned States evidence. He says he and one other came from Cheyenne and the others from Kansas, where they had lately committed a bank robbery. Papal Regrets. Rome, June 4.— Pope Leo has sent a dispatch to the emperor of Germany expressing his re gret at the atrocious attempt on the lifie of his imperial majesty. In regard to the socialists, the pope has di rected Cardinal Franchi to dispatch urgent in structions to the Catholic clergy of Germany to use every effort to prevent the spreading of so cialism, His holiness has had a conference on the subject with Cardinal Ledoohowski, arch bishop of Posen, to obtein exact information respecting the socialist party in Germany. No man under the rank of colonel can be eleoted superintendent of a Mississippi Sun- day-sehool, although now and then a judge slips through.