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RAIL-ROAD GUIDE.
MullnvMlrrn Railroad.
WM. HOLT, Pres. | VIRGIL POWERS, Sup
Leaves Macon 8 A Jf; arrives at Eu
faala fi 30, P M ; Leaves Eufauia 7 20, AM;
Arrives at Macon 4 60, P M.
ALBANY BRANCH.
Leaves Smithville 1 46, P M ; Arrives at
Albany 8 11, P M ; Leaves Albany 9 86, A M;
Arrives at Smithville 11, A M.
Macon A Western Railroad.
A. J. WHITE, President.
E. B. WALKER, Superintendent.
DAY PASSENGER TRAIN.
Leaves Macon . • > 780A. M.
Arrives at Atlanta . . . 167 P. M
Leaves Atlanta • • * 6 sis A. VI.
Arrives at Macon . * . . 180 P. M.
NIGHT TRAIN.
Lsavts Macon . • • 845 P. M.
Arrives at Atlanta . • . 450A. M.
Leaves Atlanta . . • BluP. M
Arrives at Macon . . • 126A. M.
Western & Atlantic Railroad.
CAMPBELL WALLACE, Sup’t.
I)AY PASSENGER TRAIN.
I,»ave Atlanta . • '• 845 A. SI.
Leave Dalton .... 2.80 f- M.
Arrive at Chattanooga . . 5.25 P.M.
Leave Chattanooga . . 3.20 A. M.
Arrive at Atlanta . . . 12.06 P. M.
MOHT TRAIN.
I.iave Atlanta . . « 7 On P M.
Arrive at Chattanooga . . 4.10 AM.
Leave Chattanooga . . 430 M
Arrive at Dalton . . . 750 P. M
Arrive at Atlanta . . • 1-41 A. M.
§ttsm*gg &m\s.
DR. W. H. HOBNETT
WILL, at all limes, take great pleasure
in wailing on all who desire his
services, and are wlllirg to pay for the
same. No other practice ia solicited.
Dawson, Ga., January Slab, 1868—ly
DR. R. A. WAKNOCK.
OFFERS his Professional services to the
citizens of Cbickaeawhatchee and its
vicinity. From ample experience in both
•i»il and Military practice, he is prepared to
treat successfully, cases in every department
•( hia profession. janl6’Cßif
c 7 b 7 WOOTEN,
ATTORNEY AT LAW,
Bateson., Ga.
jan 16 1868 ly
O. i. OBRLKY. WILD C. CLSVKLXKD
GURLEY & CLEVELAND,
ATTORNEYS AT LAW,
JtHirord, Balter County , Ga.
J. I?. ALLEN,
WATCI AND
REPAIRER JEWELER.
Dawson, Da.,
18 prepared to do any work in his line in
the very best style. feb‘2B ts
J. «. 8. SMITH,
GUIST SMITH and
Wcf ITS O.V, • Georgia.
Repairs all kinds of Guns, Pistols, Sewing
Maiiines, etc., etc. 8 ly.
HARNESS I REPAIR SHOP
•AT PRIMES' STABLES,
Dawson, ... Georgia,
_ furnish the publie with Carriag-
Trimming, lUitihph Mounting, Ac. All
Work promptly done for the coli.
p0v22’673m HARRIS DEKNARD.
Shipments To Liverpool!
FREE OFCIIARUE
HAVING always first class vessels on the
berth for Liverpool, we will receive
and forward cotton at tfie lowest current
r»tes free of commission, charging on'y >h.
fk U j ex P eDt * es attending the removal from
c depot to the press. We are prepared
o advance, when required, three fourths ol
tne value and guaranteed proceeds.
Wm. M. TUNNO A CO ,
Savaunah, Ga,
Fresh Garueu Seed
®OR SAL K A. T
i erryman & Meriwether’s Drug Store
THE DAWSON JOURNAL.
Vol. 111.
POKTItV
UffE STEP HURL.
What though before tne it is daik,
Too dark for me to see ?
I ask but light, for one step more;
’Tis quite euongh for me.
Each little humble step I take,
The gloom clears from the next;
So, though ’tU very dark beyoud,
I never am perplexed.
And if sometimes the mist, h mgs close,
So close I tear to stray,
Patient I wait a little while,
Atid soon it clears away.
1 would not see my further path,
For mercy vails it so;
J/y present s'ep-s might harder be
Did 1 the future know.
It may be that my path is rough,
Thorny, and bard, aud steep ;
And, knowing this, iny strength might fail
Through fear and tenor deep.
It may be that it winds along
A smooth and fl j wery way ;
But, seeing this, I might despise
The journey of to-day.
Perhapsmy j*th is very short,
My journey ie nearly done,
And I might tremble at the thought
Os ending It so soon.
Or, if I saw a weary length
Oi road that I must wend,
Fainting, I’d think, “My feeble powers
Will fail me ere the end.”
And so I do not wish to see
My journey or its length ;
Assured that, through my Father’s love,
Each Step will bring its strength.
Thus step by step I onward go,
Not looking far before ;
Trusting that I shall alw vs have
Light, for ju-t “one slop more.”
M ISCKI.LA N KUtJ.s.
THE liCIIATIBLi; BOOTS.
A POLICE hERO, ANT’S STORY.
‘And this is our museum.’ remark
ed the good mi Hired | olice sergeant
in charge ; ant] so saying, ho selected
a key from the hunch and unlocked
a do rthut ranged with the ceU-d.sus
and looked like one of them. The in
terior disclosed showed the cupboard
to he of console aide capacity Af
tixed to the wails wee shelves ami
l looks on and.about which were be
stowed about as irrsrei fine us a lo of
goods as one can wci) imagine
‘This i> w here wo keep ou waifs and
strays ’ said the sergewm ; we have a
c ear out ■ very month, and judging
from our stock, I should thing the day
can t be far off.’
Articles ot wearing apparel chiefly
were the wail's aud stray- in question
I hero was women’s shawls and man
ties, in many cases torn and ruined in
ibo brawl that possibly eo-t tlie popri
etress ber liberty, and with the mud
baked hard and dry on them; there
were bonnets and bats with fa Is and
feathers attached, and parasols more
or less sound an I fashionable ; there
was an elaborately worked petticoat
once white, which the sergeant in
formed me one o! his men had strange
ly enough discovered it suspended
across the rail of a slree lamp post
Os male a tire the collection was scarce
ly as large and various, and was in
deed, mainly confined to hats and
coats and traveling shavv s. Hube
sides these, there was an extensive as
sortinent of baskets, ana carpet and
leather bags, walking sticks and u:n
brelias, bewdt s just such bundles as a
thief might drop in ttie beat of he
chase, glaa en ugh to escape o umch
easy terms.
Hut what chi fly attracted my at
tention whs a pair of clumsy boo e, ut
ter y worn out, with hee s aslant and
with holes Iretted in their upper
part, blue as bilberries with mildew,
against which the russet ru«t of the
battered nail heads showed to advan
;age.
‘These articles look as though they
had lain here considerably longer 'ban
three mon.hs,’ 1 remaikod to the ser
geant
“Aye, indeed, it must be nearer tis
teen months than three when they w re
last thrown in here,’ he replied, tak
ing up one of the ankle jacks by its
tongue and regarding it with evident
interest.
‘Why were they not turned out at
the last clearing ?’
The sergeant smiled. ‘They are tin
common boots—privileged boots sir,’
said he. ‘I very much ques ion if the
price of the handsomest pair tha ever
were made would buy these old jacks
cut of the hands of the man who sets
such store by th- m ’
‘I should like to be informed in w hat
respect they are valuable,’ 1 remark
ed.
•Take them in your hands sir and
see if you can tiiid them out for your
self.’
Hut I could make nothing of them
except hat they were worn out rob
b ah, fit ouly to be 'brown on a dung
bil.
‘Th n I w'ill exp'ain to you in wT at
e-setico of their value . ones s sir
They were • nee the pro, erty of u mur
derer !’
if a murderer V
‘Of a man w Uo was lumped at
oriheumrde «*f bii- grandfather-’ con
Willed the sergeant, slop) ing to ft mV
er the iujot that in my horror i L?,h
dropped. ‘You r« collect the «hm> nr I
(lure say. About as cruel u tuuidcr as
ever was di n«, I thinK, that was. > 1
through drink ’
•But why are -hey iho more valu
able for the reason you assign ?’ I ask
ed.
DAWSON, GA., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY «7, 1808.
•If you will come and sit by the fire
I’ll ’ell you how they came to he ac
counted worth preserving,’ he oblig
ingiy lemarked
‘As, perhaps yon may reoollect,’ he
began, ‘the poor wretch I allude to
was appointed in this precinct, and the
way in which he cafne lo leave his
boots here was simply this From the
time of his eoinmi ting tho crime till
he made his way to the city, he got no
re-', but tramped on and on, Hay and
night, more miles than I should like to
say speaking from memory. He
trumped till his lcet were blistered
and swollen, and when he came into
tne office—ihis office—one night be
tween 11 and 12 o’clock, saying to
me:
‘ls this a place where a murderer
may give himself up for punishment ?’
He was barefoot, and carried his boots
—these boots—slung by their thongs
at the end of hie stick with his litt-e
bundle.
‘But that isn’t about him that I
have anything to say. All I need say
is that his lcet being too bad to admit
of his being able to get his heavy old
boots on them an easier pair were got
for him, and I believe he was hanged
in them. Anyhow, his old ones were
left here, and thrown into that cup
board .
‘Well, there they lay for over two
months And now I must tell you
that two years ago the most trouble
some customer this not over polished
and genteel neighborhood furnished us
was a drunken horseshoer—a middle
aged man, a big broad-chested fellow,
who could drink a quaitof whiskey
When he chose to work, there was not
one of his cralt mere c ever and dex
terous, so that any time in three days
he o uld earn as much as a p odd mg
man in a week. The consequence was
that he never worked more tnan three
days, and gave up the rest of hi- time
to drinking and bragging ol his abili
ty
‘You would never have guessed ti at
he earned good wages, judging fjvm
his appearance. No hlng bu rags
covers > i,jin an ri he Lad never a pair
of decent shoos to his teet, so hut
when he went to work, ihey were glad
ri> keep him a the hack of the shop
for -huine’s sake. Saturday was bis
grand day, and almost certain ns the
night came, he would be biough # hero
drunk and incapable of anything but
ha io jtig and swearing, to lodge His
wile, ,'unday alter Sunday—a decent
little woman enough— used to bring
him a bit ol dinner, and we used to
lot them si together while he ate in
his cell, tliinkii g that i- might make
him feel his degradation, and tend to
ins mending
‘Blit it was all of no use; there seem
ed m> more rhnnoe ol mending him
t 1 an there is of minting a rotten apple
sound. 8o he grew worse and
worse.
One Monday morning, in the depth
of winter, just as .hey were turning
him out, (we never took him before
the magistrates if we could avoid i ) t
noticed tiiut he was without the tatter
ed old shoes he gene ally wore ; so I
bethought me of 'he old boots lying
idle in the cupboard, and, cnlliug him.
go. them out
“see if you can squeeze your feet
into these If you don’t sell them lo
gin, 'hey may carry you along for a
month or so.”
“No fear, cuss the gin, 1 ’ he replied
as he squatted down on it stool lo pull
ibe bo ts on
‘1 tsll you whtit it is Bill Herd,” I
says o him ; “if you don’t alter your
couiae, these boots will lust quite long
enough to carry you to a mad
house; or worse sti 1, perhaps to
the place where 'hey left their last own
er.”
‘•To the gallows. Tii v are Tom.
Patten’s old hoots You know the man
1 al ude to.’’
•J|v dear sir, it was a sight to see
him tlien I assure you. He started up
with a yell, and held out the foot with
the boo> on it as though something
in it was stinging him and causing him
Irightlul pa n, while his staring eyes
w ere so bloodshot, and his limbs trem
bled as though shakeu by palsy Then
he got the boot oft, and then standing
with his naked feet on ihe cold stones,
he seemed changed from a drunken
brute to a sober mao.
“I’d rather walk my bones bare
than wear’em. I’m bad enough, the
Lord knows —no better that: a bru e ;
but I ain’t bad as yet to wear a mur
derer’s boots. I hanky for the les
son, however. My feet shall have a
scrubbing to-day if they never did be
fore.’ ’
‘Well, the story seemed to amuse
us awhile, and the de esteit boots
were stung buck into the cupboard
again
v\ e had no doubt that the •’les
son’’ he had received would wash
out in the first quart of hecr he drank,
alld tna , as ij-ual, we should have to
I'oviiie him lodgings nil 8a UldaV
mght When we found that he did
Uot trouble us, we Set it down m our
mind- that hewn- l. — that be had
drank l.imsell dowu to a bed of sick
ness at last.
*l wo thiee weeks passed, and then,
one day when 1 was silling here alone,
Hill Hold made lis appearance For
the moment l didi. I observe that lie
was accompanied.
‘Hete again !' said I, reaching up
lor the ixaige Iks k , ami then 1 uo
lice. thut-IM* was n. I .hi y aa.iic, hut
llial • e was perfectly so or alld IIIU. Il
belter dreeeeU lliuii 1 hud ever seen
him
•‘W hut uo you warn ?‘who brought
you here? 1 tiskud him.
“Nobody sir,’ n-ivpitd. 1h .v
eu t becll orubn - tiaVe- t touched so
much us a glass ol gm since you saw
me. It is ber aiiss T fear that lam
jus' on the brink of breaking out again
Ilia 1 have ventured here to ask of
you a lavor.’’
• Wlmt is it ?”
“1 want you to ;» ve me or sell me
the boos that toe onged to—to—
nevermind who--you know sir,” be
asked me.
“What! Patten’s b ills ? Surely
you duu" mean those ?”
•'No others, sir It isn't because
that 1 haVen.t got a puir”—and as he
spoke he held up one of a very good
pair—“but becuute I leel like fading
out of my fright, and want another
dose to ho and me quiet.”
“Yon may have them and wel
come, Bi I,’’ .-aid I, and I couldn’t, for
bear laughing at the recollection;
"you stripped ’em off pretty quick
the last time you had them on ; how
ever you shall have them, il you fancy
them.”
“Then you’re wrong sir,” he re
plied, with an earnestness that was
Btartlmg. ‘-It’s no fancy. It is because
I hate’em that i want ’em; and what
is more, I want ’em to wear ’em
Nothing weaker than them horrid
thing- is strong enough to hold me
back from the drinK. Gopd resolu
tions won t do it—all that my wife
can beg and pray is not equal to it.—
I've kept it off for three weeks now;
but you don’t know- what I’ve suffered.
It is worse than hungering for bread,
is thirsting for gin, when once you’ve
made it your food. It haunts me.
It peeps out at me in brimming mean
ures and in tempting wide mouth
ed glasses from the dark corners of
the shop. I sweat of it the h>trder-I
work, and its tickling down my face
drives ms mad, almost. I go to bed
at nights only to dream about it For
the Lord s sake, let me have the boo s;
I sha 1 never be aide to make a strong
stand against temptation until I have
tb< m ou *’
‘Of course you would bare had no
hesitation in giving httn what he de
sired, after such an appeal ? I remark
ecf.
‘Ol course; I got them out for him
at once.
-There they are, my lad,” said I.
•‘lf they only do.half un much good
us you imagine they would be cheap
at a hundred do lars ”
‘So he to ik thun, thanked me hear
tily, and away he went No one knew
his strange fancy but mvsolf, and I
resolved o say nothing about it. ‘‘lf
lam not mistaken,” l thought to my
self, “the who e ne ghbortn od will hear
ol it soon enough for after he was
gone it occurred to me, and caused
me no little tin atsiness that, unhinged
as tile man’s mind evidently was his
wearing of th detestable boots w ould
provide the fini Ling stroke, and pres
ently we should hear of drunken Bill
Herd being an inmate of a lunulio asy
lum
‘But lam glad to tell you that I
was mistaken—altogether mistaken
His hunger for drink aus so violent,
and the dread of its cffectsPso tortur
ing, Unit the remedy tie chose against
it proved not a Hit <>o strong. FteliDg
uneasy about him, t kept my eye on
him. aud saw that he ucl; to tiis> pur
pose inunlutly.
I not him as though by -accident
die next day, as Le was rent riling
from work, and tie .(inched his cap
cheerfully, at tne same time glancing
down at his feet, which were encased
in the boots. I .-aw hm a many day
after that, thn ngh six months, till one 1
Monday morning, a healthy and
respectable gentleman, he made his >
appearance bero with a parcel in his
bund.
"I thought that I should find you
alone, sir,’’ suid fie. "I hoped so
I’ve brought back the boots. I can do
without Yni at met, 1 do b. pe and be
lieve.”
And then he went on to tell me of
the struggles he had en ured. and in
which, aided by the b ots ho had con
trived o come oft victorious.
•On.e,’ said lie—‘that was three
weeks uLer you were so kind as to lei
me have ’em—l had worn them every
day, and 'felt so btrong in my mind
that 1 thought I v ould give my feet a
holiday , so I brushed my other boots
and put them on, and went off to
work. But somehow I couldn’t settle
down to my tools As I stooped to
tne shoeing, the boo's that 1 had so
nearly slipped in seemed to mock me,
and say,‘You’ll be at it again efore
nightfall’ Aud sol believe that I
should, had i not, as it were, taken
the devil ihut was tempting me neck
and crop, and bundle him out. ‘How
strong ure you 7 Are you no strong
enough to walk to the corner, and g-t
just one drink, and out again 7 What
sor of a man are you, it you are not
strong enough for that? How do
you kn< w that you ure not cured until
you are tested V’
•co Ife t fie old ’im coming over
me. I didn't stop a minute then but
luving my too s aside I ran home
every step, aud got into my ugly, make
sure boots agalu Hu that s a long
time ago, and 1 think 1 urn a 1 right
again '
‘Don t make too sure, Bill,’ I remark
ed.
I don’t mean to. sir, else l should
have i unit my make-sure*, or thrown
’em away ; as it is, . bring ’em back
tor you to mind for me 'f you will
tie so kind—at tne same time hoping
and pruiing ttiat I may never want
’em ’
•And 1 don't sup(«>se that he ever
will,’ s.id the sergeant in conclusion,
‘I r it’s over a year ago since he pull
ed them oft uud now he is a rising
man, w .tb a shop of hi* own.’
Out wt'Sf, instead of asking a mail
■•Wfui will j. o drink ?” they now »«y,
‘•Nominate your poison.”
From the Macon Telegraph.
The Politienl future of the
Negro.
This is the queetio irxata of modern
! times. Opinions upon it are at diverse
'as they are upon tho true and orthodox
| path to eternal bliss. Southern men,
1 who know the negro bo-t, are quite as
divided as the omniscient saints nf the
1 North, who claim to kunw everything
! and peer into tho futuie by tospira ion
i Tnis imaginary light from oo high is,
perhaps the least reliably of all impres
sions upon the mind of man, and yet
the entire fabrio of Northern political
philosophy if built upon it, with self
interest as a cement. They have great
hopes of the ntgro. They sec in him
the elements of equally with the white
race aud germs of political greatnesg.—
Their legislation is based upon these
convictions ; though, while they are
willing to ascribe to him tho attributes
of the Caucasian race, they ignore, in
their blindness or willful folly, the fact
that the white man’s motives must fol
low the white man’s intellectual digni
ty. They have made the mistake of
magnifying the negro, and at the same
time acting on the hypothesis that he
is an imbecile aid gullible creature, ig
norant of his own interests and easily
deluded into the service of others re
gardless of himself. This is Yankee in
consistency, and they will find it out
before they are through with the busi
ness.
We have no claims to the gift of
prophecy, but, born and raised in the
the S iutb, with every opportunity of
studying and learning the negro charac
ter, there i- ODe thing of which our ex
perience has given us the most thor
ough oouvictiou : it is, that whatever
may b<*nppcarance», under the influence
of trauscient causes, tha negro never
will be the permanent and reliable ally
of the Northern people, and the servant
of their interests. He may be made
tributary to them for a seasoD, under
the delusions put upon him by the un
principled and designing, but, sooner or
later, be will see his own interests, and
no human power will be able to divert
him from their pursuit. He has no
for cast to link into the fu’ure—no
bump ol “easuality” to reason out ef
fects tr ui causes, especially where the
latter are remote and obscure—but be
understands the present aud its bearing
upon his welfare and happiness, quite
as well as the superior race. And ho
will act on the present, bring what ap
pliances you will to bear upon him
This is shown by his course for the last
three years under the operation of im-
mediate emancipation. He has known
nothing but freedom and the people
who gave it to,him. This oue idea has
taken postetsiou of hiseutire brain, and
be uas not even allowed hiiuself to rea
son upon the motives that prompted his
sup; Oscd bsuefac'ors, or Ihe eventud
i.ff. et i f bis present coudiliou upon his
i welfare and happiness. But this thing
cannot last always. The stern realities
I of life, the cares of subsistence, the real
j solid, practical interests of himself, aud
'finally, is a great and passing idea
| that must one day take possession of his
1 mind and control his actions. To sup
-1 pose otherwise, would be to set him
dowu as less than bumau, which would
he a great mistake, dt firient as he is.—
The North may as well, therefore, give
up all idea of permanently controling
the Boutbern negro for its own aggran
dizement. It is opposed to reason and
to all experience. They are building
up hopes at an immense cost that must
soon fail and topple to the ground. The
negro is a Southern man as well as his
former master, and there is not one ma>
terial point in which their interests con
flict. The law must affect both alike,
either to build up or destroy. Whatev
er embarrasses capital at the South is
obliged to be felt injuriously by the la
bor which it employs; and the converse
of the proposition is evually true; what
ever protects and prospers capital brings
o rofort at and happiness to labor. When
ever the planter or mechsoio is borne
down by taxes aud other unjust exac
tion, the laborer in Lis employment is
bUg. rt to sufl-r bis share of ibe tioub
k.. There is no negro so stupid that
hi- cunuot comprehend ibis simple truth
aud when compn bended, he is obliged
io see ihut the interest of the Southern
whites and of himself are closely bound
up, aud must sink or swim together.
And this great practical truth should
have its influence upon the Southern
negro iu his aspirations for political
power. What need has be, in bis ig
norance, for such a weapon in bis hand 7
What good can he accomplish that the
white man is uot already constrained
by he mot potent influence tbit can
r. gu.ate the couduct of mec—self-inter
est—also to pursue aud gam it possible.
In protecting bis own interests, he nec
essarily protects the interests of the ne
gro, and be can make go wai upon the
No.
lattcr without destroying himself This
is evident. The negro, therefore, being
free, and nobody desiring to r’-enslavc
him, bis highest policy consists in quiet,
industrious labor and efforts at mental
afid moral elevation, leaving the great
question of government to the while
mao, with the firm assurance that all
legislation that harms him must also
harm the class that enacts it. The ne
gro has this unfailing guarantee, and he
should rely upon it. Asa raoe, God
in His wisdom has made him the infe
rior of the white, and be should bow to
the decree of •Jtnnipotonoe, resting as
sured that £8 he advances in usefulness
aud intelliger.ee, be will naturally be el
evated to the digoity appropriate to his
condition and deserts.
Then let the oolored people cease this
struggle after political power and im
poitance. It is an insane ambition which
if gratified, can only result in barm to
every class of society. Northern emis
saries have told them, with interested
motives, that it is neorasary for their
protection in person and property. This
is false. Iu all the Southern States, as
regards their rights of both person and
P 9; erty, they havo been placed by
Southern men on an equal footing with
themselves, and soeiety is bound to see
those rights respeoted. Let the uspira
tions of the negro stop here, for beyond
it all is strife and contention, in which
he has nothing to gain, and in the end
must lose what is now secured to him.
As regards a conflict between the
Southern negro and his former master,
or, as some have termed it,‘war of races’
we have no fears arising from any re
latione subsisting between the two class
es. Their interests are the same, and,
as a general rule, mutual regard and
good will would subsist them forever un
less distu bed by wjeked and interested
interlopers from abroad, who, liko tbs
serpent in Eden, would insinuate them
solves into a peaceful home to destiny
its tranquility and embitter its inmates-
Such people are the enemies of both ra
ces, and, as a friend to both, we pray to
God they may be delivered from the
evil. Reconstruction laws. Conventions
oomposed or negroes, foreign adventur
ers, and hopeless hunters after office,
Loyal Leaguers and other kindred asso
ciations at the South, are tho legitimate
fruits of this infernal conspiracy againct
the peace of our people, both white and
black, and, if successful, can only re
sult in untold calamity to both, to say
nothing of patriotism, it is the highest
du'y of every Chrisiian man to sethis
face as Biot against the foulest treason
rhat man or devils ever devi-ed against
both races and the petce and weliare
of soeiety.
We cannot more appropriately com
plete what we have to say on this sub
ject than by introducing the following
pointed and u 'auswtrable remarks,
which we extract from an article in a re
cent number cf the National Intelligen
cer :
We may sa'ely assume, as a general
proposition, the truth of which is illus
(rated by ell history that masses of men
have always been and will always bo
governed by their interests. We have
no ground to believe that the negroes
will furnish an exception to this gener
al rule. They are men of inferior
stamp and their political action will bo
oontroled by what they consider to be
their interests.
Now let us enquire what are the in
terests of the negroes in these great
matters, whioh arc of such vital impor
tance to the North 7
Is there a single negro in all these
Southern States who owes one dollar’s
worth of the national debt f I think
we may safely answer, “ Mot one 1”
Again, is there a single negro in all
the Southern States who has an interest
in the value of odb dollar in any faoto
ry 7 The answer again must be in the
negative.
Can rational men, then, so far deceive
themselves as believe that when the ne
gro is invested with political power be
will forget hie own interests, and vote
to sustain these great interests of the
North which are dircotly opposed to bis
own ? Will be tax himself to pay tri
bute to the bond holders of the North?
Will he consent to pay high price* on
every fabric which he buys for his fam
ily, to fatten the manufacturers of a
section to which be does not belong? -
Well ho consent to pay to Senator
Sprague three, four er five cents a yard
on every yard of ootton or calico that
he buys for bis family, to s»ell the over
grown fortune of that gent'emaD, and
the like ?
Will he submit to a high tariff on
iroo, which embraces probably fifty per
cent of the cost of his stove, his axe aed
bis hoe, in order that men like Thade
u» Stevena may laugh and grow fat ?
We repeat, are Republicans credu
lous enough to believe these things?
Every interest ol the negro is against
payirg the national debt, even io
green backs much less in gold. A sim
ilar motive will prompt every defendant
of Ham to oppose, might and main, (ha
protective policy.
Negro enfranchisement, therefore,
means repudiation and f*eb trade,
si far as negro votes will go to secure
them.
It is true, the Northern politicians
may secure the negro vote for one or
two elections. But after that the negro
will begin to look out for himself, and
there will be plenty aspirants for negro
vo'es—demagogues if you obooee to call
them—who will explaiu to the negrosa
how dreadfully oppressed they are by
taxes to pay interest on Northern bonds
and by tariffs to proteot Sorthern man.
ufactures. Sambo will see it, or think
he sees it, elcarly, and vote to emanci
pate himself from these burthens. His
own course garb and his wife's gown most
net be taxed.
A Word lo moth<;ni.
Each mother is a historian. She
writes not the history ts empires or of
natiun on paper, but she writes her own
history on the imperishable mind of bar
child That tablet and that history
will remain indelible when time shall
be no more. That history eaeh mother
shall meet again and read with eternal
joy or unu tTable grief in tbs coming
ages of grief in the coming ages of eter
mty. The thought should weigh on the
mind of all mothers, and render them
deeply circumspeet and prayerful and
faithful in the solemn work of training
up their children for heaven and im
mortality.
The mieds of children are very SU'-
oeptible and cavity impressed. A word,
look or frown may engrave an impres
eion on the mind of a child which no
lapse of time can effect or wash ouL—
You walk along the seashore when tho
tide is out and you form characters or
write words in the white smooth sand,
whioh is spread out so clear and beau
tiful at your feet, according as your fan
cy may dictate; but th3 returning lido
shall in a few hours wash out and es
face all that you have written. Not so
the lines and character of truth or er
ror which your conduct imprints on tho
mind of your ehild. lhere ’yon writo
the impressions for the eve lasting good
or evil of your child, which neither the
fliods nor the storm es earth can wash
out, nor death’s cold finger ean erase,
nor the slow reaving ages of eternity
obliterate. How careful, then, should
each mother be in her treatment of her
child. How prayerful and how serious
to write tho eternal truths of God on
his miud—those truths whichsh.il be
his guide and teach her when her voice
shall bo silent, in death, and her lips no
looger move in prayer in his behalf,
iu commending! her dearebild to the
covenant of Ged.
Thu Child and the Berries.
‘ Loi k, papa,’’ ciied a child, “at the
berries I have found.”
As his little girl said it, she showed
her father her basket hall full of thorn.
YVhydid he start ai*d ask. “have
you eaten any of (Lem my child 1”
‘No, papa.”
“Not one?”
'“No, papa, not ore ”
He was*vory pale as though some
great sorrow had touched him ; but bo
murmured, “Thank God!”
“Give them to me,’’ be said ; “every
one.”
“Every one, papa ?”
“Y’es, every one; I must fliDg them
all away.”
‘ Fling away my pretty black berries
that I took so long to find?”
“Yes, dear child, they are poison.”
There were tears iu her eyes ; but she
gave them up ; and he dug a hole tho
garden, fl mg them in, stamped 'them
t» pi-o's, and buried 'hem.
“Why, what are they ?” she asked.
When be answered he said, “They
are the deadly night shade.”
Hast Thou, O Father, ever taken
away the berries that it tool: us so long
to find ? We know Thou didst it in
mercy ; but it waj bard to think so
then.
Give us faith to trust Thee in this, or
anything else Tbou mayest do.
A New GeoGkaphy.— Somo smart
Yankee is getting upanew geography of
which the following is a specimen:
First Class , Stand Up.
Q‘ Where on the map is New .Afri
ca ? A. In North America.
Q Where is the Capitol ? A. Wash
ington. '
Q Where is the United States ? A,
Rubbed out sir
■ Who rubbed it oat sir? A Th*
Fortieth Congress.
Do they allow white men to vote?—
A. Ia somo parts of tbe country.
Q. Have they naturalisation laws 7
A. They have.
To whom do they apply 7 A. Sim
ply to white men,
Q. Who is the strogest man ? A.
Sambo.
Who b the most far seeing man 7
A. Ben Butler.
Q How so ? A. Because he often
saw silver spoons all the way from New
Orleans to Lowell.
Make up your' beds early in th®
morning j sow buttons on your husband's
shirts; do net rake up any grievances ;
proteet tie young and tender brauohea
«f your family ; plant a smile of good
temper in your lace, and carefully root
out all angry feelings, and expect a
good erop of happiness.
How queer that a cook, when she
dresses hcrelf, puts ber finery on ; but
when she dresses a foul, takes its finery
off. She speaks, too, of undressing her
self, but never of unpeeliug the pot*-
tocs or unskinning the eels.
“You had better ask for manners
than for money,” said a finely dressed
1 gentleman to a beggar boy, aho bad
asked f>r alias. ‘T asked for what I
thought you had tbc most of,” was its
' teggm boy’s reply.