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LOVICKPIERCE.
He Has Fallenjn his Armor.
Th e Death of the Venerable Dr. Lovick Pierce
His Family, His Early Life and His Long-
Continued Labors — How His Last
Moments were Passed.
[Daily Constitution.]
The news of the demise of Dr. Loviek Pierce, at
Sparta yesterday morning, was received in this
city with very general expressions of sorrow and
regret. It has been known for many months
that the venerable preacher was in his last illness
and that any day might bring the tidings of his
passage from this to the other life.. For this rea
son the announcement was not a surprise to those
who knew the circumstances, they were rather sur
prised that the feeble frame had so long withstood
the wasting illness, and that the sublime spirit had
been permitted to linger so long amid the scenes of
its earlv endeavors and grand achievements. Dr.
Pierce has been confined to his house and his bed
since last December. He died yesterday morning,
as far as we are informed, peacefully and in thor
ough preparation for the translation of his spirit. He
was in the ninety-fifth year of his age, and of Ins
ministry in the Methodist church the seventy-tiftn.
HIS EARLY CAREER.
Of the early career of Dr. Pierce we have at hand
only very meagre details. We learn that he has
prepared notes of his entire life and ministry, but
that they have not been given the public, b rom
the data at hand we find that he was born of hum-
ble parentage in Halifax county, North Carolina,
in the month of March, 1785. His parents shortly
after moved into the Barnwell district, in South
Carolina, where he was brought up to manhood.
He had a brother, Reddick Pierce, who was some
two years his senior. They had few advantages in
youth, and came to manhood with but a limited
English education. Both were men of individual
ity: but the characteristics of tlieir genius have been
happily discriminated and stated by a recent au
thor, who says that “Reddick Pierce would have
been a master workman in granite, while Lovick
Pierce would have proven his greatness in marble
They were both destined for greatness 111 their af
ter life, but it was to the efforts and achievements
of the younger that the world was to become in
debted in an untold measure.
ADMITTED TO THE MINISTRY.
Both brothers were early converted to God,
and entered the society of Methodists. They telt
the inspiration to liecoine preachers of the *V ord
and sought admission to the ministry. It was at
the conference held in Charleston, January 1, lsuo,
that they were admitted on trial, Redrick being
then 32 years old and Lovick not quite 20 years of
age The conference was presided over by the be
loved Bishop Ashbury, who gave words of cheer
and God-sjieeil to Isith. Redrick, we believe, was
sent to Columbia and Lovick to a circuit on the
Great Pedee in South Carolina. They labored
quietly and j et successfully, the elder brother
making a famous reputation as an exhorter.
Lovick's preaching was of a more lasting stamp,
he appealing to the mind through other media than
the emotions.
One year later, in 1800, the Georgia circuit was
enlarged and Lovick Pierce was sent with Joseph
Tarpley, on the Apalachee circuit, comprising the
large counties then of Greene, Clarke and jackson.
His lal Kirs were marked and his ministrations effect
ive and he was noted of his elders.
The years later, in 1808, lie was called to take
charge of the Oconee district and enjoyed the dis
tinction of being the youngest presiding elder in
American Methodism. In this capacity he was
called ujKHi for the exercise of his lest powers.
The countrj r was then upon the borders of the In
dian territory and it was a great lal Kir to hold even
the foothold gained, much greater and often impos
sible to make new establishments of altars of the
Most High. Lovick Pierce lient all his energies to
the work and accomplished great results. The
powerful and pious old Christian, Hope Hull, took
him into his affections and aided him vastlj' in the
prosecution of his arduous labors. The work grew
and proqiered and the nuinliers and influence of the
church grew wonderfully under his care.
It is impossible nr-rfui.9.^.sOT.D.i,ER liel review all
the changes and incidents of the early career of Dr.
Pierce, but we single out the leading events that
are a part of the data in our possession.
In 1812 he was stationed at Milledgeville, and the
war between America and Great Britain was press
ing. A draft was ordered and he was among those
drawn to serve. At that time ministers were not
exempted from militia duty, and he joined his
company. He was appointed its chaplain', however,
and remained with it Mil Savannah during Mie tune
it was statii med there/
He was afterwards located in various stations or
circuits and constantly grew in force and influence
in the church. It was in 1812, at the conference of
that year, that he brought up for admission to the
ministry Janies Osgood Andrews, who afterwards
lieeame one of the most distinguished bishops of the
church. In fact, in the record of his long career,
we read of his aid and encouragement freely given
in his early days to many of those who have be
come most distinguished in the ministry of the
Methodist church, south.
MARRIAGE AND LOCATION.
It was in the j T ear 1812, as near as we can gather,
that he was married in Greensboro to a Miss Foster,
a member of a distinguished fainilj- in the state.
She was one of the noblest women, and held to him
in truth the position of a helpmeet. She was cele
brated for her gentle qualities and piety. From
1814 to 1823 he was located, as it was called, and
retired from the itinerant ministry. He lived at
Greensboro, where he studied and practiced medi
cine. He made no lessa mark for the time being in
that profession than he did in the ministry. In 1823
Dr. Pierce returne I to the traveling ministry and
returned to Augusta, where lie had once been in
less favorable daj-s. It is related of him when he
first went to Augusta he was dressed in plain home
spun clothes, with rabbit-skin trimmings, and the
young men of that place, who were then of a rol
licking and dissipated class, made much sport of the
new preacher. He preached in such plain and ter
rible terms of such iniquities as were fashionable in
those (lajs as to make him the object of their ire
and he was a target for their jeers. As he would
pass the streets they would gather upon the corners
and salute him with rounds of “Methodist groans.”
The preacher in homespun finallj- triumphed and
left behind him an impression and influence that
was felt for years following.
HIS GREAT INFLUENCE
in the church is one of its traditions in Georgia. He
has held eyery office in the ministry except bishop.
He gave to the church, however, a bishop in the
jierson of his son, George F. Pierce, who is to-day
one of its most powerful leaders. George F. Pierce
was admitted to the ministry at the first Georgia
Conference in Macon, January 5, 1831. His career
is of more recent date and is a part of contemporary
Methodist historj'.
Dr. Pierce has been a delegate to every general
conference of the Methodist Church, South, and in.
1848 was the fraternal messenger sent to the North
ern General Conference, but was refused admission
and recognition. I11 1874 he was one of the three
sent in response to those who came to the Southern
General Conference at Louisville. He was unable
to go to the Conference North, but wrote a memor
able letter upon the fraternal relations of the
churches.
THE DEATH OF HIS WIFE
occurred in 1850, while Dr. Pierce was attending
the general conference in St Louis. He did not
learn of it until he reached Kingston, on the State
Road, when the news was broken to him and his
son by Rev. J. E. Evans, of this city, who was one
of his warmest and most beloved brother ministers
and friends. She died in Columbus, where Dr.
Pierce then was stationed. We learn that the re
mains of the venerable preacher will go to Colum
bus to-day to be laid away in mother earth beside
the ashes of that beloved wife.
HIS LAST SERMON
was preached at Marietta, during the North Geor
gia Conference, on the first Sunday in December
last. It was a raw and blustery day and ■ affected
him in health. His sermon was one of great power,
but it exhausted him. He complained afterwards
n mte home was prostrated in Macon. He
lay in beu there critically ill for six weeks, and was
then moved to Sparta to the home of the bishop,
Frank, while the name by which he was known to
the world was Arthur. There was deep mystery
here somewhere, and I was determined to bring it
to light.
The proprietor of the Evening Star, like most of
his class, was one who was false alike to his friends
and his enemies. While in league with the worst
class of criminals, he plaj-ed into the hands of the
police, when occasion required: and vice versa. I,
therefore, had little dfficulty in inducing him to con
ceal myself, with two other officers, in the room to
which lie would show young Arnold and his com-
^After we had waited thus concealed about half
an hour, the two entered the room, and Arn Id,
locking the door, put the key in his pocket, while
his companion seated himself at the table.
“What the devil do you mean by addressing me
in the street in the waj-j-ou did this afternoon/”
Arnold asked, in an angry voice, and advancing to
where the other sat as he spoke.
“What do I mean/” the other echoed, tauntingly.
“I mean this, Frank Wilding ”
Hush! Not even here!” Arnold said, hastily.
Without heeding the interruption, the other went niont, the beautiful country-seat of
AT THE FAIR.
Paddy—(Just landed in America)—Shure thims nothin’ like so big hins as we have at home, in the
Child country.
Fair Man.—Hens, sir! Why, those are American sparrows.
his son, where he has since remained. He has per
formed no other ministerial act _ except to baptize
some children at the house wherein he was oonfined.
Bishop Pierce left home on Thursday last and
passed through Atlanta on Friday;, en route to Ar
kansas to hold conference. He said his father was
failing and had said to him:
“George, j-ou will never see me alive again. I
am dying, but it may take me a week to get
The”bishop felt impressed with the truth of the
remark, but hoped the end was not so near. The
bishop himself is in very bad health.
Thus has passes 1 away from earth this great man.
great in all the sublime attributes that make human
character lovable and distinguished. The Christian
hearts of the country will preserve his memory and
their lips pray for
“Peace to his ashes.”
MARY AND THAT LAMB.
How a Lawyer Tells it.
Detroit Free Press.
Few poems have been more generally admired or
paraphrased in the various tongues of earth than
that commencing with the lines;
Mary had a little lamb,
Its fleece was white as snow;
And everywhere that Mary went,
This lamb was sure to go.
Well, the story is now current, at the National
Capital, that the distinguished Secretary of State,
when recently in a jocular crowd of hisfriends, was
desired to condense into prose these immortal verses. ^ ^
Urgently solicited, Mr. Evarts yielded, and wrote his mother’s murderer being brought to justice, that
as follows: , heerasped the informant’s hand and promised him
Mary, a female judged to l>e of the race of mail, ••/(Additional five thousand if the news proved true,
whose family name is unknown, whether of native eclined hearing any particulars, however, ex
or foreign birth, of lofty or lowly lineage, nnr^y - w the presence of the captain of police and the
A DESPERATE GAME.
(Concluded from first page.)
No answer was returned, however, and the police
authorities being communicated with, it was found
he had started for the East about two weeks pre
viously, having signified his intention, before his
departure, of making the journey leisurely, and
stopping over for a day or two at several towns on
the route.
The next daj', however, a telegram was received
from the young man himself, It was dated Chicago,
and said he had heard of the tragedy, and would
leave at once. Two days later he arrived.
He was a not unhandsome young fellow of about
twenty-five or six. He lwre not the slightest re
semblance to his dead mother, as far as feature or
expression went; but although there was no one who
had known him before his departure for the "West
to recognize him personally, he gave sufficient cir
cumstantial proof that he realty was her son, and
took possession of the property, as a matter of
course.
His mother’s tragic death seemed to have made a
great impression upon him, and filled his mind with
remorse for his undutiful conduct towards her. As
the only atonement now in his power, he determined
her murderer should not escape, and, besides em
ploying the most expert detectives in the force, he
offered a reward of ten thousand dollars for the as
sassin’s capture.
The large reward stimulated the police to their
utmost exertions, but time passed, and not the
slightest clue could be found towards the solution
of the dark mystery. At length, however, a Jew
called upon the young man and claimed the reward.
The young man was so elated at the prospect of
prejudice, and having only in view the sac re.
at the same tune 1 icing' utterly regardless
"_ lt i t , ,r . c !?? ure ? of the world, we are infoiW
ne wh J
by one who, it has been stated, at one time wh
living 111 that part of the Uni lr " of Vmerty
known as Massachusetts. ’ 1 —ra vbi-broker, He said, and a few days
Mev-ntiy h. .., v nvo,vef in difficulties With the author ^ ^ of dissipated appearance, had
ities of her Majesty Queen V letoria, Queen of Great called at j lis ()t g ce with the ^roodi as a pledge for
» Indies whose dnnmins ..... , . . .. *.
the young man taken out and a woman’s
ted in place of it.
(ling ihau at nne)f identified the brooch as
mother's, and tile ..low proceeded to relate
. ms possession.
ll“ said, and a f
Britain and Empress of the Indies, whose domains
extend over a large share of the habitable globe,
thereby endangering the peace which should so
happily exist lietween nations of the same blood
and language, had an infant sheep, of which
there are many millions, of various stocks and
qualities, now in our country, constantly adding
wealth and prosperity to our republic and enabling
us to lie entirely independent of all other nations for
our supply of wool, now ample for the use of fac
tories already liusity employed, and for those who
ere long will lie constructed in all parts of our land,
working both bj- water and steam power, and
in whatever direction this said Mary traveled, this
animal, whose fleece was snow white, even as the
lofty mountain regions in the silent solitudes of
eternal white, as the ethereal vapors which oft float
overall autumnal sky, “darkly, deeply, beautifully
blue,” or as the lacteal fluid, covered with masses of
delicate froth, found in the buckets of the rosy
dairymaid, whether meandering through the mead
ows in midsummer, gathering the luscious straw
berry, strolling in the woodland paths, in search of
wild bowers, visiting the church with her uncles,
cousins and aunts, to listen to the inspired words
which came from the lips of the minister of the sanc-
tuary, or when retiring to her blissful couch, to seek
rest and enjoy sweet repose after the cares and la
bors of the day; in fact, “everywhere that Mary
went" this youthful sheep, influenced, doubtless, by
that affection which is oft so conspicuously mani
fested by the lower animals in their association
with human lieings, was ever observed to accom-
panjr her.
It is stated that, when the pause in the sentence
came, the Secretary, who had read it without any
inspiration, resumed his stolid diplomatic counte
nance, and all mirthfulness had departed from the
faces of that once happy company.
The Kind of Springs They Have in Florida.
Tallahassee Sun.
From my hotel window I can look out almost any
clear day and see a dim column of smoke in the far
southwest. I have asked the cause of it and have
been told that it was the vapor from a boiling
spring, which has never been found owing to the
impenetrable nature of the swamp in which it is
situated. My informant sajs it frequently de
ceived blockade runners during the war. The run
ners would suppose it a signal from shore and run
into certain capture. I suggested one day that per
haps there might be some illicit whiskey distillation
going on in that swamp. The possibility, and even
probability, was admitted. “Then none of j-ou, I
presume,” I asked, “saw that column of smoke be
fore or during the war/” None had seen it until the
tax on whisky was levied, for, they said, they had
never had their attention called to it until of late
years.
I accosted a grej -haired negro on the subject of
the smoky column: “Well, sar,” says he, “if you
was down in de neighborhood of whar dat smoke
is, and you should leave a jug alongside de road
with a quarter tied to the handle, j-ou’d be mighty
ap’ to find dat jug filled with whisky next day,”
“Where would the quarter be, uncle/”
“Dat would be gone, sar.”
“And could I .-pend a quarter that way every
da>'.”
“As many as you like. If you tie a half dollar
dej-’ll gib j-ou good measure, sure.”
“Do they do much business in that line!” Iasked.
“1 don’t know nuffin about dat, sah. I only
knows dat you get as much whiskj r in de jug as de
money tied to the handle will pay for.”
I don’t want the readers of this to discredit the
existence in Florida of great springs, natural
bri iges, or sunken lands making room for lakes, for
these are natural phenomena and can be seen and
verified.
tlie loan of fifty dollars. Recognizing the’ brooch at
once from tile description given him by the detec
tives who had looked over his Isioks. lie loaned the
money: but when the young man left the office put
on his hat and followed .him until he traced him
home. Making inquiries he hail also learned that
the man was a decorative painter but of very dissi
pated habits, and had been on a protracted spree
for more than a month past.
Learning the number of the house was 48 Blank
street, the captain at once sent two detectives to
arrest the painter, and in less than an hour they
brought him in.
He was so intoxicated as to lie unable to answer
any questions, and lie was placed in a cell to get
sober and undergo an examination the following
morning.
When the morning came, and was told the
reason of his arrest, he affected the utmost surprise
and earnestly protested his innocence. Where he
had been on the night of the murder he was unable
to say, as he had been drunk for two or three days:
but he accounted for the possession of the brooch bj'
saying it had been given him by a woman of the
toirii he had met a night or so previously, and who
hail fallen in love with him.
This was but a lame storj- at liest, and made more
so by the fact that he was quite unable to tell the
whereabouts of the woman who had given it to him,
while his description of her appearance was very
confused and vague. Moreover, upon searching his
room, two kej-s, fitting both toe street door and the
door of the murdered woman’s bedroom were found,
as well as a murderous looking life-preserver, still
stained with blood, and with which the surgeons
testified the deathblow had been struck.
In the face of such proof as this 110 one could for
a moment believe iiis protestations of innocence,
and he was committed to jail to await his trial.
When it came off, which was about two weeks,
he had no further evidence to offer in his defence,
although lie still continued to assert his innocence.
No one believed it, however, and his guilt was look
ed upon as a foregone conclusion.
As the jury retired, more as a matter of form
than anything else, I chanced to look to where
young Arnold was sitting, and was struck by the
expression of his face. Anxious to learn the fate of
the murderer of his mother, any one in his position
would naturally have been; but the look of his face,
pallid to the very lips, was not the look of one who
desired retribution for a crime. It was the look of
1 gambler, sternly striving to repri ss all traces of
agitation, but who has set life and fortune on the
throw of a die or the turn of a card.
Returning in a few moments, the jury brought in
a verdict of guilty, and the judge rose to pronounce
sentence. Again glancing at Arnold, I saw a look
of triumph on bis face. The card had won.
With no definite theory formed in my mind, but
with mj' suspicions aroused, I determined to
watch the young man. There was evidently some
hidden cause for this strange emotion.
As he passed out of the court-room, a man of
rather shabbj' appearance came up to him and held
out his hand.
“Well, Frank, old man,” he said, “you hardly ex
pected to see me, ilid you/”
Young Arnold started back with an expression of
angrj- surprise.
“You have made a mistake, mj- friend,” he said.
“I do not know you,”
He looked the other in the face, and blushed past
him as he spoke. As he did so, however, I over
heard him say rapidty:
“The Evening Star. At eight to-night.”
The Evening Star was a place well known to me
in my professional capacity as the rendezvous of
thieves, assassins, and ruffians of every description.
What could this young man, the possessor of nearly
on, his voice growing more threatening as he pro
ceeded:
“I mean that you are not goiug to shake me so
easily' as you think. I mean to make use of what I
know—that your name is not Arthur Arnold but
Frank Wilding—that your mother is not dead, but
alive in Texas—that you murdered both the real
Arthur Arnold and his mother, that you might
personate the heir to the world and enjoy the prop
erty—that ”
a fierce oath came crashing from between Ar
nold’s teeth.
“And what dc you suppose I mean to do/” he
asked, in a voice trembling with rage.
“Well,” the other answered, coolly, “I suppose
you mean to do just what I wish, and divvy up
square with me.”
He still spoke in the same taunting tone; but
hardly had the words left his lips than Arnold’s
hand suddenly left his breast, and the next moment
his revolver was leveled not twelve inches from the
Other’s heart.
“There you are wrong,” he cried. “I have you
now? Yes, I did do all you say, if it is any satisfac
tion for you to know it. 'I have been playing a
desperate game, and won it. Do you think I am
going to let you call the turn on me now/ Not
much! D n you die!”
There was murder in his face and in his voice,
and I knew now was our time to act. Before his
finger could press the trigger, the revolver was
dashed from his hand anil his arms pinioned be
hind him.
For an instant he struggled fiercely, and then a
cry of impotent rage burst from liis lips as hand
cuffs were fastened on his wrists.
"Damnation!” he gasped; “I have lost, after
all!”
After this single outburst, he relapsed into the
most sullen silence, and even at his trial refused to
open his lips. He bail lost the desperate game he
had played with such skill to nearly a successful
end, and he seemed utterly indifferent as to his fate.
There is no need to go over the evidence against
him. He iiad murdered the real heir in order to
jiersonate him: and, having done so, traveled to
New York, anil, chance favoring him, had procured
impressions of the kejrs, by which he had been en
abled to perjietrate his second crime. He had re
turned the following day to Chicago, and from
there sent the telegram, and, taking possession of
his blood-bought wealth, sought still further to
evade suspicion by fixing the guilt upon the painter
whose dissipated habits made the task a compara
tively easy one. All his fiendish ingenuity, howev
er, had availed him nothing. His crime had found
him out, in the end, and brought him to the gallows.
Chatty Letters About New Books.
THE BEST AND NEWEST THINGS.
BY MRS. F. A. REYNOLDS.
Dear Sunny South:
It is a lovely moonlight night—really tempting
to others besides fond lovers, but my time is so
fully occupied, that if I talk to j'ou at all. it must
lie in the evening, after baby is asleep, and house
hold duties laid aside until morning.
We have begun “cribbing corn!” One man is here
husking, and another comes next week. Of course
that means business for me. for 1 must be up early
in the morning, to get the breakfast over, and
buskers at work by sunrise. I used to hate to get
up early; now I don’t have time to think about it,
and if 1 do have a moment’s leisure I feel glad to
step to the door to enjoy the fresh morning air. and
watch the Eastern sky flush and.glow, first a faint
. Mm. deep of imsi m. us t ty 1 royal “King of Day,”
slowlv appears with blessings Tor our half of this
“mundane sphere.”
Housework and Romance do not seem congenial!
Even a bit of poetic feeling hardly harmonizes with
the scenes and odors of kitchen life! Still I insist on
my own thoughts and fancies, and congratulate
myself that if they tempt me to forget my duties
enough to let the meat burn, the smoke cannot in
jure the pictures they paint!
These thoughts remind me of a treasure for us
housekeepers, entitled, "All Around the House: or.
How to Make Homes Happy.” It is a series of
housewifery articles from the pen of Mrs. Henry
ard Beecher. Most of them had appeared in the
“Christian Union,'” and the demand for them,
made a book almost necessary. They are, indeed,
helpful talks for young housekeepers, especially!
There are hints for eyery part of domestic life, and
short essaj's. full of thought, which, read in spare
moments, elevate the minil above the petty vexa
tions of the next piece of uncongenial work. In
these articles we are taught how to cook, howto
wash, iron, clean, sew, anil keep the whole house
hold in complete order. In fact, her directions are
so minute, and she insists on such perfect neatness
and order, that we are tempted to believe she is
more theoretical than practical. However one in
teresting chapter in this choice book contains an
account of her first housekeeping, when the great
American preacher was a poor minister out "West,
anil himself and wife were obliged, not onty to do
all their own work, but had very little to do with.
' "Mrs. Beecher’s account of their privations and
shifts would lie quite ludicrous, were it not pathet
ic and suggestive.
While we agree with Mrs. Beecher that neatness
and order are not onty desirable, but absolutely
necessary to good house-keeping, and that these
qualities facilitate labor, still we think she does not
leave inargiii enough for the circumstances that
may interfere with such absolute system.
I suppose she thinks natural laziness will prevent
the majority from lieing too particular, but there
are some women who are slaves to sjrstem, instead
of making system a handy servant. While I do
not agree with all of Mrs. Beecher’s sentiments in
full, 1 do heartily recommend her hookas a very
Our Nashviie Letter.
Mrs. Cheatham-McKendrX church—City Li
brary -Dressmakers Mi9P 0 ||y and Old
Maids Genera'
Dear Sunny South:
Some poet's idea of heaven was u sr) f a a good
novel, and a glass of iced lemonad* ( j ur ’ s more
comprehensive, and would inelud amon g other
necessities for happiness, a pony ph a >nan dan an
imal entirety obedient to woman’s ci nian d. Be
hind our spirited bay we feel like Phty^ when,
in a moment of ambitius frenzy he tot pj s fatal
ride in the chariot of the sun. Hence, \pieasant
weather; we often assert our indepen(Vg jjy a
walk in the fresh air. j
The poet owes some of his sweetest aspijtms to
the air and sunshine of earty morn, w hi4 :as a
twofold |Kiwer, stimulating the mind while •, fivig-
orates the imdy. In a limited space we coy no t
’ 1 BjI-
lea 1 :-
tell you all the pleasant sights that
haul, where the beauty and chivalry of TenI
have so often assembled, greatly delighted us. Vs.
Cheatham, whose personal charms have suntyj
little from the ravages of time, is the mother oty_
congressman Acklin from Louisiana, and as one|
queens of society enjoys a national reputauft
At the princely entertainment given by her
s ago to Me " * ’ *~ “
the queens of society enjoys 1
’ r entertainmen. „ ~j -
years ago to Madame Le Vert, the gifted authored
from Mobile, an enthusiastic admirer said of ne ,
Mrs. Acklin is as lieautiftil as Cleopatra. Her wj
is the jiearl that enriched this banquet, but where
her Mark Anthony?”
I11 her third marriage which occurred a few yetffs
subsequent is found the answer to his question. »*
have lieen out to the country on a visit, and me ge*
nial influence of the season gave a joyous elasticity
to the spirit, and awoke a host of dear memories,
that like a troop of golden-winged orioles, nestlea
in the heart. Returning we found McKendriM
Church in ashes, silently preaching a homily on tne
be\
nt\ I
S
pomp and glory of the world. The dread element
of fire, the servant of some base incendiary, diu
its work well, but McKendree church will rise
from the ruins, grander, and more than ever a
lovety architectural ornament of Nashville.
One of our flourishing institutions is the City
Library, under the management of the Young
Men’s Christian Association. The idler who mere
ly seeks to beguile a dragging hour, may there
find current history in the shajie of leading pa
pers and periodicals, while for those who would
drink deeper of the Pierian springs, the City Li
brary affords scientific works and philosophic dis
sertation by the most eminent scholars and ad
vanced thinkers. We are looking forward with
pleasant anticipations to the promised volume that
will bring us nearer the hearth and home of that (
great delineator of character, Charles DWkei •*•■>•
His letters will be a rich treat to thus© who hate
enjoyed the pathos and humor, sparkling on tlie
bright pages of David Couperfield, Pickwick pa
pers, and Old Curiosity Shop. .
Tlie dramatic and musical feasts of the winter
will give emploj-ment to onmiverous reporters,
and to another worthy class whom Hood has im
mortalized.
Nashville literally swarms with dress makers.
Some of them are colored women, who receive a
large patronage and are greatly recommended for
their neatness, taste, and reasonable prices. Par
don a reminiscence of our recent yisit to the
country. Considering that hey had always looked
upon the dark side of the picture the eyes that gave
me kindly welcome that golden afternoon, now
embalmed in memory, were very bright indeed, tor
they shone with the light of love, and an ever readv
sympathv which made their owner a trusted friend
and counsellor, and the smile that accompanied her
unspoken wt >rds sank into the heart like a golden
flood of sunshine. ,,
“Come right in, and take a seat and set down,
said Miss Pollie in her homely phraseology and gen
tle voice. “I have jest been a runnin’ after a con
trary hen that will kerry her brood down where
the minks and varmints ketches ’em. Contrary-
like she was late a settin’ and hatching and like
some folks I know, she haint got a particle of moth
er sense. Fur all the perfection she is to ’em thej-
heil as well beorfuns."
I11 response to my inquiry as to their number,
“Fourteen," she replied, “an'I ’lowed to send poor
Widow Harper the finest of the lot if the pesky ole
hen would keep clear of them varmints and raise
’em.”
There, deep in the heart of the country lived our
ideal old maid. who. having escaped the Scylla of
matrimony had struck on the Charj'bdis of moth
ering all tiie chickens and the turkeys who were
motherless through the neglect of their own jjuvtty
ers, or otherwise. Living there v.fih tin 1 •< nnpS»r i
ionsliip but tiiat of tlie bright skies, whispering
breezes, golden sun-light and merry birds, her lif e
blossomed with kimllv deeds and gentle words.—
Who could give a cold, chuslirh hospitality to tire
influences of country life which carry a benedic
tion t?> the simplest soul that opens its doors to re
ceive them:
We forgot to mention Benny the factotum of her
house, who, when we first knew him. was just ;all
enough to reach the altitude of her large, old-fash
ioned fire-place, a little blue-eyed orphan, whim
she had rescued from the buffeting waves of the
wide world, to give him the warmest place in'her
heart and home.
Not many gulden summers past we visited Mi-s
Pollie. ami to get a delicious drink of cool water,
as well as to enjoy tlie ambrosial breath of the even
ing. together walked down to the spring. The car
pet of wild flowers beneath our feet sparkled as if
Cynthia, and all her royal daughters had shaken
thebrigliest gems from their radiant crowns. On>‘
leaf of Miss Pollies life-book which she guarded
with the most jealous care, we had often wished to
read, but that lovely night, with its canopy of stars
overhanging a varied scene, made a suggestive
picture which carried her back to other days, awa
king fragrant memories of a tropieal-hued land,
the Long Ago, with its bright morning-glories of
youthful love anil faith. Perhaps the moon-light
was the magic influence that drew from the "pal
impsest of tier memory, the golden romance of her
youth.
, .“Here are my pigs jest where father used to keep
Ins, said she, as a grunt of dissatisfaction proceed
ed Horn a pig whose light dreams of chinquepins
and beech nuts had been disturbed. All honor to the
pig. the power on the farm, and in the Irishman's
cabin, "the gintlemin what pars the rint ” \Xe
g , aT r ““^holding to our lips a floral
chalice full of dew, but Miss Pollie evidently did not
respond, for she continued in a melancholy’-nice-
“Child, I have lived a longtime bv myself aiid,
lookmg back on the long lonely road I can't sav its
best. \\ ell do I mind when Hez Harper used to
ride over here to see me when I was a gearl' fr ,m
Ins place three miles up the road, as spruce a look-
in young man as was in these parts, and his crit-
ter was a good piece of boss flesh, too. At first fa-
Handy Vol. Series,” published bj-
the same house.
In these realty handy books we have the best of
literature for leisure hours, in a cheap and conves
nient fonn. One which I hail the good fortune to
get and read, is the Essays of Eliza.” by Charles
Lnmb. These essays are full of quaint humor and
infinite pathos. To my mind he is as versatile in
style as Hood. Some of his fancies are so sweet
anil tender, others playful in tlie extreme. His
views on “Grace before Meals,” are odd enough, his
tone quite satirical, while his expression of a bache
lor’s ideas of children finds an amen in all classes.
^ Another volume in this series is, "The Six Great
German Comjiosers,” comprising six charming bi
ographies of such world renowned men as Nadyn,
Handel, Beethoven, Mozart. Chopin, Welter, Schu-
liert and Schuman, and even Wagner.
Each biography contains an analysis of the char
acter of the subject, and of his immortal music, and
is enlivened with anecdotes. The whole series
form-an interesting history of the develo ment of
music. It is a charming book for any one. but in
valuable to a musician. ’
Mj- fire is burning low, and mj- little clock warns
me of the hour, so I mnst saj- good-night.
Urbana, 111.
Grant, the General’s brother, is, and has been for
months past, little else than a common beggar on
the streets, and is to lie seen daity in frontof the
Ebbit House soliciting "a quarter” from those he
claims to know. Poverty-stricken and nearly shoe
less, lie is an object of pity and of charity, wire
a million of.dollars, want, in a den of tlm kind? J attracts sympathy from a real or supposed weak-
Then, too, his shabbj’ acquaintance had called him ness of mind.
says in presence of a neighborhood gi Jip-Ti a t
critter may stand and whicker for something to e?t
till doomsday but nary grain of ,nv corn wffi he
git, cuz I see Hez haint no notion of courtin P, ’ v '
I jist reckin twas told to Hez for he never \
more, but I keereda little more for him than tyUd
for anybody else, and I believe he keered for ™
too but father choked him off, and he went”y
and bymeby got married, ""n •
don't grow on bushes, and
I've lieen mighty lonesome sometime!", and
ot married V\ ell, you know chances
bushes, and I reckin it’s all right but
ughty lonesome sometime! -
would not advise you to take the same romiif v
can help it.” au 11 >
Old maids have long been the ti . . ,
Tllr;:- ln « ., tediol ? s repetition tos som^hat
dulled the infinite variety of iokes at w K
Happy Benedicts and bloommg matrons snm
celebrate the centennial of th^le steleTeste^rie
heartless laugh, and cruel sneer but mut,’ • , v tJe
tinue to flourish the angels of our fir-si,l«T aKls
God bless them! We send you with thL „ ,
of good words. The best and bri Jihw Vohline
throughout our broad land come to us ilafu ?ai ,T
talions. We accord polite attention to th 1 ' 111 Ult ;
voices pf the press, but to you, dear SUNN^SmtH
whose coluias sparkle with the sketch!/ «
Marj- E. Bryan.fand other pleiTnttriS?
a radiant welcome. r’ r> e
Nashville, Tenn., Nov., 2nd, 1S79. * 5 ' P ' C '
Chestnuts continue
2.25 t‘>
upon more
to $1.25 per busnel.
-Wssj'asj* 1 ."* "««■*