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JOHN H. SEALS. Editor Proprietor.
Win. B. SEA EX. Proprietor and for. Editor.
MRS. 1IAKY E. BKV1\.(*J Associate Editor
ATLANTA. GEORGIA, MARCH 22, 1879.
Inherited Breams.—Prof. Shaler, of Cambridge,
has an interesting and suggestive article on Sleep
and Dreams in the last numberof the International
Review. He advances the following original theory
to account for those dreams which we can refer to
no past experience of our own:
Looking upon the qualities of the mind, as in
certain sense as much the result of inheritance as
the parts of the body; I have been driven to specu
late as to whether the hereditaments of the mind
are necessarily limited to vague potentialities and
impulses, or may not include concrete facts of
memory. Knowing so much to be inherited, it
does not seem unreasonable to venture the hypoth
esis, tentatively at least, that, since part of ou
dreams may arise from the shadowy inheritance
which come across the bridge of organic succession
from our ancestors, some acts of our fathers survive
in indistinct shadows within ourselves, and.com
biniug with our own experience,make those strange
compounds which we dud in our dreams. We well
know that mental habits, scarcely separable from
distinct m< m trie , are Inherited; for instance,
the case described bv Mr. Darwin, who tells us that
a gentleman acquired in his youth a curious habit
of expre -log pic: . ure by lifting his opened hands
to the sides of the head and swinging them rapidly
to and fro; this habit he rigorously suppressed
in his mature years, and had ceased to indulge it
it when a child was born to him; but this child re
sorted to the same curious habit of expicssin:
pleasure. I will not claim that the recurrence o
this habit rests upon any distinct act of memory,
but a law of transmission which could pass this
peculiar impulse from parent to child would do
nothing more inconceivable in causing a condition
of parts which should give birth to an idea. There
seems to me about the same difficulty in the trans-
misslou by inheritance of instincts that there
would be iu tlie transmission of ideas or memories
Ihe inherited instinct must depend upon a growth
ofacertain mental machinery in a certain shape,
and we cau not conceive a physical record of mem
ory to rest upon any other than such physical
foundation. It would extend the task ot inherit
ance in no essential way to suppose that it gave us
obscure memories, as well as sharply defined in
stincts.
1 offer this suggestion concerning the inheritance
of memories not as a mere vague speculation, but
because a careful analysis of my own experience
has compelled me to the hypothesis. I am con
vinced that there is so much in our dreams that has
no reference to our own experience or previous
thought, that some such explanation seems most
necessary. It is to be hoped that all those who are
interested in this question will avail themselves of
every opportunity to ascertain any cases where
dreams are hereditary in families, or where the
dreams of one generation are connected with the
acts of an ancestor. *
The Antiquity of Man.—Prof. Dawkins and
the Rev. Mr. Wells recently sent a paper to the Brit
ish Geological society concerning the traces of man
reported to have been discovered in Robin Hood’s
cave. They confirm the views of some eminent ge
ologists—among them Sir William Guise and the
Rev. Mr. Symonds—as to the same traces said to
have been discovered four or five years ago in the
Dowaid cave, near Alawinouth, and particularly so
as regards one of them known as King Arthur's
Hall. It is stated that in these caves, between the
relative layers of debris, between three ,stalagmitie
floors, which had been blown up, and resting also
upon the fourth, were found remains (in excellent
preservation) of the mammotn (in various stages Of
developement) the long-haired rhinocerous, the
reindeer, the Irish elk, bison, beaver, hyena, the
great cave lion, and the cave bear. It Is contended
that man was associated With these cave animals,
and that the proof ot this fact is abundant in the
chipped flints and pebbles, the work of his hand,
found among the remains of the monetersjust men
tioned, and which were found lying side by side
with them, sealed up by the same stalagmitic floor.
It is claimed as evident that man went occasionally
for shelter into the older dens used by hyenas as a
larder, wherein they kept their prey they had
dragged thither, and had there left his handiwork
as evidence of those visits. No bones resembling
those of the human frame have been found in these
dens, else it might be inferred that the hyenas occa
sionally feasted npon the tender and juicy car
cass ot some
“Youth in life's green spring, or he who goes
In the full strength of years, matron or maid,
Or the sweet babe, or the gray-headed man,”
of that remote period which runs back so far into
the dim vista of the long train of ages that have gli
ded away, that even the ken of man cannot fix its
date. These caves are now some three hundred feet
above the level of the river Wye, but resting upon
the lowest stalagmitic floor, mingled with the re
mains of extinct animals and the chipped imple
ments of the old stone-men, were fou d river sil t
and sand, and river boulders of the same character
as those to be found in the bed of the river Wye to
day. It is asserted that these caves, moreover, bore
evident traces of the glacial period. At the meeting
of the British Geological Society at which the paper
of Prof. Dawkins and the Reverend Mr. Wells was
read, the Rev. Mr. Symonds concluded an address
by saying:
“We know absolutely nothing as yet of the lapse
of time which separates us from the cave periods,
when the old men and animals (here Mr. Symonds
meant pre-historic) whose haunts we have visited
to-day, lived and died. The ‘everlasting hills’ have
mouldered and shed vast masses of debris; the cli
mate has changed: cities rise where flowed the salt
seawater; land has become sea, and brooks run
where rivers ran before; rivers have shrunk in their
Neither if a clear case could be made out for the
belief that a certain bone, apparently belonging to a
man, must have Iain under a thick deposit for 20,000
or 50,ij00 years, would that fact suffice, of itself, to
destroy the credibility of Moses' narrative. All men
now admit that there were many creatures, many
huge creatures, now extinct, living on this globe in
the period, preceding “the human period.” Of what
importance, therefore, would it be, if. besides these,
we disovered thaj there was also a creal ure, some of
whose boues resembled human bones? Truly, of
wonderously small moment The real importance
of the book ofGneesis lies in this, that it tells us when
it was that “God created man in nis own image,
and breahed into his nostrils the breath of life, and
man became a living soul." Gorillas and chimpan
zees we have now, and of very small importance is
it wheiherthere were gorillas or chimpanzees 50,000
years ago or not.
Th* great question is. when does man’s history
commence? And having found a bone tomewnere.
which lie takes to be a human bone, the next thing
that the geo'ogist is called upon to do, is, to discov
er wliat that (supposed; creature was like, and
what he was able to do. Where are his works,or
any remains of them? Castles, at d temples, and
palaces are not so perishable as human bones. Did
this creature (Whose very existence is not. yet estab
lished, live in dweUings ol any kind? Has the last
fragment of such a thing been discovered? This
question lies at the outset of the controversy. For
if we are talking merely of a creature who dwelt in
the woods, then it is a baboon, and not a man. of
whom we are speaking; and whether there were
baboons 50,ijOO years ago is, after all, a matter of very
little moment.
The discussions of the last few years have resulted
in a much better understanding of the subject of
man’s antiquity. Only a comparatively short peri
od has elapsed since Sir Charles Lyell estimated
that man's age was about 800,000; Lubbock avoided
figures, but expressed his views in such adjectives
as “vast,” “immense,” etc.; Vivian insisted that
man was living one million years ago; while other
antiquarians contented themselves with estima
ting man's age at from 200,000 to 300,000years. These
were the estimates of a Dumber of years ago Later
discoveries have caused these learned men to lower
their figures considerably’. In the later editions of
bis works, Lyell has dropped from 800,000 to 200,0t0
years as the date of the appearance ol the first man.
A collapse from 1,000,000 years, which was insisted
upon with confidence in the British Association in
i87i as the age of man upon the earth, 20,000 years in
1873, shows that the developments of iater years
iiave caused scientists to revise their estimates and
to p'ace man’s antiquity at a much briefer period
than they did a quarter of a century ago. Much of
the light that has been thrown up >n thii “vexed
juestion” is due to the common sense and industry
of Americans. For instance, Mr. Lyell estimated
that the delta of New Orleans had been 100,000 years
in attaining its pres nt formation, and both Lyell
and Lubbock approved the estimate of 57,0o0 y T ears
for Dr. Fowler's Red Indian, who was buried IS fee
deep in the mud of >he delta; but United States en
gineers, after careful investigations, find that the
whole delta to the depth of forty feet, is the product
of t,410 years, thus upsetting the great antiquity cf
that Indian. A Chicago paper claims for Professor
Andrews of that city’, great credit for the light he
has thrown upon the subject of man’s antiquity.
Lyell’s conjecture was founded upon tliesuppositiou
that man came shortly alter the glacial age. Ac-
ordiug to the Chicago paper. Prof. Andrews’ mas
terly’ examination of the probable date of the gla
cial age ou Lake Michigan, which date he gives at
from 5,000 to 7,000 years, has opened the eyes of
scholars to the wild character of European guesses
upon the age of ice, and his exposure of the oft-re
peated blunders about the cone of Tiniere, secutes
him the gratitude of all seekers after truth. This
cone is at the mouth of the River Tiniere, which
flows into Lake Omera, Switzerland, and is formed
by’the debris annually brougnt down by t etor.e t.
By a mathematical error, which, when explained,
is obvious to everybody’, Mr. Moslet made the cone
10,000 or more years old, and gave the date of some
stone implements found about halfway up the o.’: e,
as more than 6,000 years. Prof. Andrews demon
strates that the implements are not 3,000 years old,
and that the cone began to form some 4,500 years
ago.
The ultimate conclusions of science will, of course
be true, and will harmonize with the statements
made in Genesis, but it seems to be a law of its pro
gress to advance through error.
accomplishments, in their leisure moments.
Another iruitful cause of unhappy marriage was
the way parents were taken in by their false judg
ments of those who wait on their daughters. By
the fashionable style of the young man who has a
nice moustache, nobby dress, carries a cane, sings
so nicely and dances well; without any* principles,
little in his brain, and nothing in his pocket.
This style of a young man is a perfect ideal of what
a match should be for their daughters with many
a mother, and especially with the young iadies
themselves; while an honest son of toil, or an indus
trious young man, who does not trouble hirr self
about the fashionable cut of his dress, or manners,
which go to make up the model young man of the
day, so he looks and dresses in a respectable
and becoming mauner.Awith good souud principles;
and who would not faint if he should happen to
meet with the rocks of adversity in the future of
his married life, but who would bravely face the
danger, and safely carrv her and his offspring
whom he promised to protect, and cherish, at the
altar of God, and not forsake them, as many do
now-a-days, if they should happen to meet with
trouble. This young man would make a good and
taithful husband, and yet the young ladies turn up
their nose at his style and manners. He said he
had no pity for them, if they all died old maids.
He also gave words of advice to the young men.
He told them they should not be so selfish, as to
lead a bachelor's life. They might all get mar
ried if they were to stop their dissipated habits,
smoke less cigars, and stop going to theatres and
balls of a night, as the amount spent on these
would keep a mairied couple comfortably, and
above all, to let all whom it may concern, of their
engagements and of the time they are to be mar
ried, know of it, and not as it is at present, marry
ing in secret, without their parents’ knowledge
He said it was hard to expect that God eouid bless
sucli marrriages; after they were consummated,
when they ha\e not His blessing before, by a good
confession and communion, aud the blessing of
their parents.”
Funny in the Wrong Place.—When the At- - of dowery to become t ie PP ’ .’
lanta Amateur Society, aspiringiy grappled with hundred and seven cin ‘ n °^. ^ from one to flftv
“Ingomar" last Summer, an amusing bit of farce dertake to show him su . . O trol) |,. ( j ntiadru-
dropped into the midst of a scene meant t o be thril- , thousand francs may *- 1 l>u t ’ 'invited to
lir.gly tragic. Partheuia's mother had just beam the pled by a turn o. the hand. He has-b.c. i.ivited to
sudden and dreadful news that her husband had pierce two isthmuses, to build three bridges, found
been captured by the bloody mountain robbers. The
Tlie Unmarried Matron of To-day. No
moie “disagreeable old maids.”—It no longer
A Woman Farmer.—A Mrs. Minor, of Bridge-
water, Vermont, owns three farms, two of which
have been purchased from the profits of the first
one, and which she carries on precisely as her hus
band did in his lifetime, when he was the head
and she assisted him in the work. She has two or
three hired men, but she takes entire charge of the
work, buj’ing and selling cattle, marketing pro
duce, driving cattle to market a-d directing oper
ations generally, She also does her share of the
heavy work, frequently plowing all day in spring,
riding a mowing machine in summer, pitching on
hay, and even occasionally shearing sheep with the
hands. All this she does as well a-, a man, and to
accomplish it she wears a "bloomer” costume, con
sisting usually’ of a loose jacket reaching just above
the knees, a pair of nantaloons of the same material
and a pair of men's boots. Her summer working
suits are usually made of calico, and she wears a
costume of this pattern every whet e—“to mill and
to meeting.” When very young shemarrioi, and
her husband died, leaving her three daughters.
She then adopted the “bloomer” costume, and be
came a practicing “cold water doctor:” In her
practice she met Mr. Minor, a French larm hand,
who could neither read nor write,and married him.
His employer sold them a farm on trust, which
they worked and paid for, and Irom which they
made enough to purchase two adjoining farms.
One child was born to them, a daughter. Her own
children became very .fond of Minor, and taught
him to read and write. Before his death, which oc
curred two years ago, he became a good mu of
business, and he and his wife were highly esteemed.
All her daughters are well educated and good mu
sicians, and two of them well marrbd. She is a
woman of good education and judgment, and Is
consulted by farmers on matters of business as well
as called on for neighborly kindness in cases of
sickness. She is now about forty-two years old
and is worth about $125,000, but works as hard as
ever.
Marrying Now-a-days—the Drawback.* to
it.—The Baltimorean condenses a part of the ser
mon on marriage by Father Didier of St. Vincent’s
church, Baltimore. It seems that every spring, the
time when
“The young man’s fancies
Lightly turn to thoughts of love”
happens in this intelligent age that the uugathered
rose in the garden of home, is made utterly miser
able by the old fashioned,overhanging terror which
a solitary blooming and fading brought in past
times to the uuwedded sisterhood. She is able to
watch serenely the lessening chances of marriage
which daily* and yearly dwindle away. It is true
that serenity’ may not be happiness, but it is its
next best t ing.
Indeed, a* oue looks over the marital market, it
is impossible not to feel more respect for single
women as a class, than for those who have married
to consolidate families and fortunes, or because
wedlock is the open gate to social independence, or
simply because they feared to be clas-ed among the
most inaitraeti ve of their sex as the years lessened
their bloom. Perhaps it is because of this meutaj
tranquility that the elderly girl of to-day is so
muclTnioreJcharmiug than the old maid of the last
century, or even of the last generation; whatever
may be the cause of her present wiusomeuess, the
consequences are that her oppoitunities of marry
ing after she is thirty are increased tenfold beyond
what they were among women of the same a
twenty years ago. If any oue doubts this state
ment, even a hasty glance over the marital records
where the ages of brides are inscribed will prove its
truth beyond argument.
There is not at this moment in America a more
charming class of women than the e.derly un-
vvedded, those single and independent matrons who
possess the requisite taste and leisure to become in
tellectual. Their sympathies are not narrowed
focussed, and absorbed, and they can afford to be
b oad and generous in their friendships; their lives
are passed beyond the touch of those infinitesimal
aud wtinkling cates which though sweetest and
must important of all to the married woman her
self, really narrow while they intensify, concen
trate, and deepen her sympathies and interests,
Important and never-ending anxieties are insepa
rable from domestic life, and the carrying of this
precious, though wearing and wearying burden,
is the price which she gladly pays for tue attain
ment ol woman's highest, and, as was said before,
her happiest attainments.
Tne unmarried lady who is from thirty-five to an
advanced age, aud who delights both young and
old by her sweetly matured mind, her considerate
soul, and her unobtrusive tenderness to all in whom
she is interested, can by no possibility ever become
pasxee, because the fresh, physical charms of her
youth are transformed into the beautiful, spiritual,
and intellectual tascinations of her maturity, bhe
wear- the alluremeuts of aperpetual youth. About
her there is always an atmosphere of everlasting
springtime.
When the term old maid was one of unreasonable
and ctuel contempt, its very sound withered the
social charms of the woman to whom it was ap
plied. The conclusion of .he unthinking was that
she had always been sour, even in her youth, and
thut for this aloue she had beep unasked in mar
riage, while if her hidden hisiory had been read
aright, or even been read at all, the conclusion
would have been different. Doubtless she had be
come fretful and disagreeable because her motives
had been misjudged while she had really been
striving earnestly to be faithful to her beautiful
and womanly ideals, and had attempted to retain
her own self-respect under circumstances that had
been sadly adverse to a perfected marriage.
Because her purposes had been misjudged, and
her truth and her heroism had fallen into contempt,
she had become embittered and unlovable, poor
soul, and henceforth she was dishonored and deso
late- To-day in the upper circles of American soci
ety, the single woman and the married woman of
equal maturity, receive “share and share alike,”
as the modern testator expresses it, in 11 the social
tributes and dignities of the times. Indeed in mat
ters of public importance, where a woman’s subtle
perceptions and her intuitive judgments are prefer
able to man's slower and harsher conclusions, the
unwed woman's mind is often considered of superior
quality to that of the more absorbed wife and
mother, and very properly.
It is she who, as the unmarried matron, possesses
an accumulated tenderness and an intellectual
strength that fits her to be a guide to the misled,
an unfailing friend to Ue penitent magdalen, the
wisest alms distributor where discretion must need
be combined most discreetly with compassion, and
stage directions are that she should faint and fall in
to the arms of her friend Theana. But the youug
lady personating Parthenia's mother was seized
with stage-fright and there she stood stock still*
turning from red to white under her rouge, while
the prompter, or rather the numerous self-appoint
ed prompters behind the scenes, shouted, “.swoon,
swoon;” “Faint and fall over,’; even more hopeless
ly confusing her and paralyzing the wits of Theana*
and the Greek (Hibernean) peasants, who, however
struck in shakingly with their parts. “Help—help*
she swoons; assist me to carry her in,” said poor lit
tle Theana, looking at the immovable mother of
Parthenia. “The woman swoons,” ssid the Greeks,
dropping into a rich brogue, while the woman in
question, stalked majestically off the stage, and Mr.
Kates, the stage manager, heavy viilian and proinp.
ter in one, tore his wig behind the wings, the gallery
yelled and the dress circle giggled. We were re
minded of the episode by a similar mishap to dra
matic amateurs, playing in Toledo.
The play was full of heavy villains, the leading la
dy’was the innocent maiden upon whom they* had
designs, and the trouble was all brought about by
her having to read her part. Forinstance. one vil
lain enters and seizes the leading lady*. The latter
looks at her manuscript and reads: “Unhand me vil
lain, (business.”) Now “business” means that a
struggle should ensue, but the leading lady in her
agitation renders it thus: “Unhand me, viilian!
Business.” The viilian stands back abashed at this
unexpected turn, and the prompter goes crazy and
yells, ‘ Take hold of her! Oh! will you take hold of
her!” The viilian rushes'up to seize the woman
who looks at her manuscript and shrieks, “Sooner
than submit to your embrace I will take this knife.”
Then she pauses and looks around for the knife.
The prompter by this time is turning handsprings
all-over the floor, kicking the wings to peices, tear
ing his hair and shouting, “Oh! Godfrey’s cordial i
why don't you take the kuife?—the knife, blank it,
the knife? It is in his belt.” The kuife is finally
seized, the villain ob igingly turning around so the
woman can conveniently get it. The prompter
calms down until a scene is produced where a vil
lain, with a big pistol in his hand, is at the door of
a chamber to see that the heroine does not escape.
It is bis business to go tosleep and the lady’s busi
ness to escape by him just before the other viliians
ush in and exclaim, “Aha! here she is!” But she
has lost her place, and, as the c U-throats rush in
and make their exclamation, there she is sure
enough. Then the prompter becomes a driveling id
iot. His load is more than he can bear, and his
mind gives way beneath it. He asks to be buried
retired spot and sinks to the floor, while the
stage manager throws his hands over his head, and
waves them wildly in the air, dances a hornpipe be
hind the scenes and yells at the top of his voice at
the leading lady, “Get off of the stage; thunder and
lightning! get off the stage!” The woman is on her
dignity by this t'me, and strides calmly by the vil
lain with the bigpistol, who looksat her with open-
mouthed wonder, and allows her to pass him. T hen
the other two viliians look at her and exclaim,“By
heavens! she has escaped us!” and the house gets up
and remarks to a man ihatsit'stoo thrilling for
any use, and it may be “blessed” if it isn’t the big
gest “go” the town has hai for years. *
seventeen asylums, and save nine hundred and six
ty persons from suicide. Poor Aubriot could never
make sure ofamealin peace. Until ilia advent the
Baroness Burdett-Contts, of charitable fame, may
be considered to have had the widest experience in
I this kind of the mingled folly* and knavery known
, , the world. Aubriot, however, might soon sur
pass her but for one thing: he is going away—to
where the wicked cease from troubling, namely a
country home unknown to the readers ot the daily
papers. His good luck has chased him out of Parts.
lie lias left off working for his living, and he now
thinks of taking a urn at fa'icy gardening by the
way of til'ing up his time. Gardening is the reflec
tive man's occupation, aud while Aubriot Is plant-
in** his potatoes be will be considering what he
shall do with his plum—at present in a bunk and
veilding him what he accounts a princely income
in interest. Then, in due time, he will come back
to Paris, take a business, double liis fortune, retire
at fifty—he is now about ten years younger than
that—and live happily ever alter in the trench
bourijeois wny by passing his mornings at the cafe,
his evenings at the play, aud his alteruoo; s in Ush-
ing for sticklebats on the banks of the Seine. *
the good father preaches his annual sermon on mar-
beds, and the reindeer aud musk-ox have retreated \ riage. This time his views were more practical | it j S s t )e who possesses the strongest influence in
to the distant north since the last hyena dragged than poetic. The Baltimorean reports him as say- j G ur greatest, most practical, and most beautifnl
into the Howard caves his last morsel, or the last I lag ‘'that the reason there were so few marriages . charities.
The Killing of Col. Robert Alston—Mem
ber of Georgia Legislature, Noted Journal
ist and Politician.—Never, since its sack by the
Northern army, has Atlanta been thrown into such
commotion as on Tue-day last, by the killing of
Col. Robert Alston. Ona day full of the soft influ
ences oflife, renewing Spring with the first Spring
shower blurring the landscape, tlie report came
like the crash of a thunderbolt, “Cot. Alston has
been shot;” “‘Bob' Alston is dying.”
It flashed over the city with lightning rapidity
and the streets were soon filled with pale, excited
men, hurrying to the scene of the catastrophe—the
office of Col. Renfroe on Forsyth street, where the
victim of an encounter, unsought upon hispart, was
dying with a bullet through his temples, and his as
sailant, bleeding from painful but not dangerous
wounds, looking at him from a sofa where he lay.
It seemed incredible that Robert Alston could be
dying; he who was the embodiment of life aud en
ergy who seemed almost capable of defying ageand
death with tl>at strong will, that elastic, dauntless,
debonair spiritthat had rebounded from misfortune,
bent circum stances and trampledohstacles through
a life of »torm and struggle, that seemed at last to
have reached a point where the years stretched before
him with a promise of peace, work and usefulness,
that should recompense for the misfortunes, as well
as atone for the impulsive errors of the past.
Faults he had no doubt, as all strongly individ
ual characters have, but he must have possessed
not only great personal magnetism but the ster
ling qualities of truth loyaltv and honor to have
drawn to him so many devoted triends and to
have taken such strong hold of the popular heart.
He was brave by inheritance, but with the fire of
his nature tempered by kindly humanity; he was
generous to afault, with a strain of the old chival-
ric knightliness, that the hard struggle for bread is
fast crushing out in the land. In the midst of his
family, at his lovely country home near Atlanta,
the k-. en politician, the fearless journalist, th c jest-
iDg, careless man of society became the Under
playful father and husband, whose love for his wife
retained the romantic freshness of courtship days
aDd was the last feeling to assert itself in his shat
tered brain; since his only words after he was shot
are reported to have been: “I am dying; let me see
my wife.”
He seemed to have had a haunting dread of a
death by violence—the fate that had followed his
family with strange persistence and had often barn
predicted for him. His friend gnd former partner
jn the Herald—Mr. Grady, tells that more than once
he heard Col. Alston utter the wish that he might
die peacefully in his bed; not by the bullet and
“with his boots on” as had his father, his two uncles
and other members of his noted family. Had he
died in the way he wished,his face could not have
worn a more noble serenity than it bore as he lay
in his coffin, with that bullet wound through his
temples. A fine proud, handsome face, with the
true Alston look upon the brow and mouth ! As he
lay there, he resembled his grandfather—grand old
Robert Alston of Carolina and Florida—more than
he had done in life. The encounter that had cut
Tliat Bloody Tragedy.-Concealed Weap
ons.—Tlie annals of crime furnish no instance of a
more wanton and unprovoked murder than the
killing of Col. Bob Alston by Mr. Ed. Cox in this
city on the 11th inst. From all the evidence noth
ing can be made of it but willful and deliberate
murder, and the coroner's jury have so declared in
a solemn verdi. t. Because Alston would notresei d
a trade which he had mode as agent tor Gen. Gor
don, and trade with ano her man as Cox desired him
to do, he is hunted down and shot to death in the
Treasurer's office whither he had gone to escape
his blood-thirsty pursuer. The moral sense of this
community lias never been so outragt*1 aud the in
dignation is deep anti universal. From the daily
Constitution we extract the to-.owing excellent ed
itorial ou tne subject of carrying concealed weap
ons:
If the feelings of tins community yesterday when
it realized the desperate aud bloody scene ofthe
day’s tragedy could have been photographed and
printed upon this page this morning this people
would rise in their indignation and ornament the
lamp-posts of the city with ijte bodies of men found
wearing concealed dea '.-.y weapons. To the fateful
practice is chargeable the awful result of this latest
cateof deadly combat. It is high time that the ut
most rigors of the law should be inforced against
those who violate its provisions.
Yesterday noon two ciUsrns of character, useful
ness and influence, d' V: ' urou a mutter of trade.
They had been life-ion; d i u - they then separa
ted as deadly enemies. They understood each oth
er and a purpose to do harm had found expression.
They concealed upon their persons instruments of
death and three hours after one of t hem was lying
in death throes, the other five feet away bleeding
from serious wounds. In a few hours the former,
whose soul lias so suddenly* gone to meet its God.
wUlbe consigned to the tomb, tlie latter to the
loom aud shame of a prison-cell. These are the
horrors which are thrust upon the community. The
naked recital of the details is a sermon, eloquent
with warniugs and suggestions. The consequences
make op the companion picture. A wife has been
widowed and a family* of children plunged intoor-
phanage. Another wife has been widowed by sepa.
raion—tlie'grim bars of a jail-door, hardly less re
lentless than tlie chain of death, standing between
her and her children and their husband and father.
And the unknown future refuses to them the
knowledge of its secrets.
The lesson of all this is plain. The people must
call a halt to those who make up the actors in such
scenes. This city, this state, the country’ at large,
has suffered enough from the lethargy Jwhich per
mits and the license which invites these horrors.
There are laws which forbid, by adequate penalties,
the carrying of concealed weapons, the instruments
always resorted to in these tragedies, If these wise
and protective laws are to be dead letter acts upon
the statute-books, they should be repealed and bar
barism canonized, its practices commended to the
people. It s tould be understood that a man carries
his life as the forfeit for trifles and that a luckless
word or action is an invitation to fate. Either this
and a daily record of tragedy and bloody corpses, or
a strong, united, unflinching, unresisting enforce-
mentof the law. The citizen must have a guaran
tee that his life is safe. The officers and magis'
trates of the law are sworn by their solemn oaths of
office to enforce the law and give this guarantee its
value and effect. Without this protection the du
ties and responsibilities of citizenship cannot exist*
It is'less than a week since we printed in these col
umns the strong and vivid picture drawn by Judge
Hillyer before a grand jury of a neighboring county,
illustrative of the consequences of the violations of
these laws. That graphic picture was recognized
andits truth pronounced by all who read its lan
guage. Unsupported by the vigorous action of his
associates in office the words of the magistrate mak#
only a picture. Acted upon as the law directs by
honest and fearless officers they are the insurance
against violence and the protective character of the
life of the citizen. The people hav * a right to this
insurance and thi * charter, and those who refuse to
guarantee them should be degraded from their
trusts. *
Our citizens have upped on horrors to repletion.
They must now demand their suppression. The
men who daily walk these streets belted and armed
must be run down and punished, be they of high or
low degree. The druggist who sells a poison is re
quired by law to know its destination and register
the name of the purchaser. The man who sells a
deadly weapon, in public or private trade, should
be placed under like restrictions and penalties. Men
who carry about such weapons should be marked
glacier melted among the mountains of Wales.”
On the contrary, the London Record, reviewing
an article attributing great antiquity to man, in a
school magazine, edited by Dr. Marell, “Her Majes
ty's Inspector of Schools,” has the following:
To all this story about “the antiquity of man” we
reply:—
1. That nothinghas been really pro ed.
2. That if the facts stated had been, or could be
established, they would fall short of Dr. Morell’s
conclusions; for that ....
3. The thing which he desires to establish does
now-a-days was the extrav igant ideas parents had
in regard to the accomplishments and dress of their
daughters, and not teaching the more solid ideas of
housekeeping, which should.be the first requisite
above all others to those intending to marry. No
him off in his prime had not been sought by him
According to the evidence, it had been forced upon
him, and hunted down, but calm and forbearing to
men thereafter. The law should be enforced by
penalties so strong that men will dread to encoun
ter them. In this day of ours a man is rated as poor
indeed who walks without a pistol. The keeper at
the police barracks searches every prisoner brought
to his keeping for deadly < weapons, so universal is
the custom according to his knowledge.
Our laws are not enacted mere!y|to make books
Our courts are not established to be the clearing
houses for law-breakers.
There is a way to stop ’his carnival of blood It is
easy now, as ever, for men to become embroiled in
c , omba t ts . bilt it appears easier than ever
for tnem to ^et outoft.be consequences of th^ir
lawlessness Tne way to end their recklessness
to make it hard to escape the penalties earn
theiraet*. Let these penalties be sure and sevirtf
Let those who violate the law because they befieve
it fragile find it strong and unconquerable. Let us
The Reason Why.—A letter from Florida in
the Woman’s Journal begins: “From Boston to
Washington, I saw snow in the air and on the
ground; from Washington to Savannah pine groves curried many citizens to the scene; every honor was
wonder the young men will not marry, when it is 1 and cypress swamps; from Savannan to Jackson- paid the dead, and in the midst ofa mourning con-
expected of them to continue this extravagance in : ville, pines, sear fields, swamps and "scrub palmet- | course, th* earth received all that was left of the
the last, he had merely defended his life as a brave ! have justice to the injured individual an hi *
man. needs must do. i tice to the outraged communit” Let n*i
end this frightful succession of tragedies which dis°
erueeonr name umt '’.mutats-
man, needs must do.
The funeral tookplaceon Wednesday at Decatur,six
miles from this city. A special train from a tlanta
dress, when economy should be the first principle j los;” from Jacksonville to Tocol, liquid amber under
for a married couple to go by, as in the good old j our boat and soft mosaics npon the banks; from
j days gone by. Botany, astronomy, painting and j Tocoi to St. Augustine, pines, live oaks and pal-
not m’reafity^invaiidate the statem eats’madeTu musIc never gave an idea how to sew a button on a mettos. Throughout the entire line from Wa-h-
Genesis. shirt or make a dress; nor did Greek, French and j ington, inactivity and negroes. No labor, either
the observer from
brave,gentle, generous and loyal-hearted Alston.
Nothing deserving the name of proof has yet been ; Latin ever get a man his breakfast. He blamedthe j completed or in process, greets
takes tcTbe ahunSn°bo S ne^ander *a ^deposi^ofpeatf 1 P^ents for this, who let their children do as they ; the car windows. Even the stati
or something else, and lie forthwith gu>-s*esorreck- 1 Please, that they may become accomplished ladies, i doorways hold negroes fantastic, who seem perma-
ons that the said deposit has been oO.WtO years in for- | when they should have them assisting the mother ] nently placed; if there were any windows, doubt-
to^ec?Me”hiun y W8°opiXnYhfsal?de|^*i f twM in her differeDt household duties, that they may less they would be similarly decorated; even the
ofscarcely 5.000 years' antiquity. Mr Prestwich, a receive a knowledge of the same. It was a mistaken “pickaninnies” (how is it spelled ?) do not play, tut
geologist of the highest rank, points out “the uncer- ! idea that musical and other accomplishments make stand in motionless blackness- I think I havedis-
tainty as to which series e_ e belong to; : a i a( jy. They were only half so, as a lady in all her . covered wny the Government coaid trust thenegro,
the freqnent absence ot record as to the level at J . ’ ,, . . . : but not woman, with the ballot. The former does
which the remains were found; and the incom- i accomplishments was one who could superintend , “^."Sgelsein this region; ofcours?. If a plople^
pletenessofthe search, ana judges, on the whole, j her duties of the household, from the garret to the ! pend no energy on any other day of the year than
that the iated;seo\ eric’® on • - 1 u l! }. e ‘ :t cellar, and also entertain her husband by her other j that of election, there must be strong action then,
er.maminalia to a period closer to our own times.” i [
A Lottery Prise Winner Pays the Price of
Being Rich.—Aubriot,the Paris workman, who
lately drew the grand prize in a Paris lottery, has
stations, platforms ai d j found his cup of honey dashed with gall through the
attentions of the tribe of beggars, adventurers
and poverty stricken geniuses who swarm about rich
men, buzzing their importunities in the ear* of
these and leaving a sting ot abuse when repulsed.
According to ‘Richard Whiting”,Aubriot has been
asked to assist in the starting in life of at least six
teen hundred and thirty boys warrented to turn
out well. About a like number of blushing maidens
await nothing but his generous aid In the matter
grace our name and make our civilization a hr
word and reproach. »iiizauon a by -
Description of Front Pajrc ,
-Figure L-Street costume made .,f Uidif
dark mallard blue, with the accessories of sflk’n
the same color, brocaded in a small design with nM
god color. The skirt is walking len-th aoH ..
trimmed with broad double box-niaitunr.i! aad 8
alterating with bands of the slFk The -V
overski t is made of thesente andh«h,J ? hee
° D fVh made of the brocade material*
and the “Directoire!" jacket has ^5. erla 7
cufts of the silk, and J the i emaind e er of FCe serae
dered with a plaited flounce headed by flne’sni'r
©
*
r-
I
INSTINCT print