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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