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VOLUME 2.1
THE CHATTOOGA ADVERTISER
PCTM-tSfIED A i SrVMT.RVU.I.E, OA., I
EVERY FRIDAY MORNING.
ratWs (7Tsrbs<_ottpflak. ■
. —A—: o:
One (’.my o*e \ »r :::::::: #2 (X)
One ("itpy Six M nthi ::::::: SI 00
No Subscription will be take a for a less
time than six w.» r.U*.
OUR A I) UL’t fISTNIf RATES.
S*Cu ■.! mbi hs ! C months 112 moil’s
1 Sijuare 1 # 4;00 i * 7joo j $ HI j (hi
i wiuares I $ C j (A)) ,$lO jOO 115 j w
3 tamarej 1 $ 8 00 SI 1 ! <H» is2o :00
I Column j sl2 jOO S2O 100 s3oj 00
* etimmi j s2o iOO 1 S3O 100 *6O 00
j column ; S4O 100 j $76 ; 00 j 100 jOO
H A 11 RO A OS.
Western & Atlantic R. R.
Chansre of SohcMlnlo.
On stui after this date the Passenger
traou wifi mn on the
Western and Atlantic Rail Road
ax fouows:
NIGHT PASSENGER TRAIN TO
NEW YORK AND THE WEST.
Outward-
Leave Atlanta. 8:35 V. M.
Arrive at (’hattenoog, 3:40 A. M.
DAY PASSENGER TRAIN TO
THE SOUTH AND WEST.
Outward.
Leave Atlanta, 8:30 a. m
Arrive at t.'h'Utanooen. 3:3(1 p. it
LIGHTNING EXPRESS TO NEW YORK.
Outward.
Leaves Atlanta. 4:05 p m.
Aarrives at Dalton, 0:23 P. M.
NIGHT PASSENGER TRAIN FROM NEW-YORK
TO THF. WEST.
Inward
leaves (’hnttanoc ;a, 5:20 P. w
Arrive at Atlanta, 1.30 A. M.
DAY PASSENGER TRAIN FROM NEW YORK
TO Tins V EST.
. Inward-
LeaveOhattanoo a. 4*;30 A. M.
Arrive at Atlanta, 3:50 I*. si.
accommodation train.
[nw.trj
ls*»frw Dali n. ~ 1 ■(»! a m.
Arrives at .(thus** 0:50 A. M.
!•:. b. walker,
Master Trawsporiatmii.
~&<fickest and Best Route
’in THE
NORTH, i:\STi\V Ks r
Vin f ,<)i li^ville.
THREE D- If Ex»v,,« Trains rnnninif
thrmi.h (r un NadiviPo L»uisvilh . tnak
imr ci« e connect'«n.; will: Trains and Dkg
far th* NORTH. EAST AND WEST.
No ( of C 'nrs
FltO.Ti MM DVI!,Li;T»
St. Lviii*. Ci/i nnnati . lutitnijgytKilix,
Chicago, Cleveland. Pitta
b u rjf, Philadelphia
ano A'ctr ) /.rk.
ONLY ONE (Ml AM IK TO
BUJtWORE W ISMTO\' & BOSTOX
OStieker time by this route, and better
.aooomiimdationx. than by any other. Se
cure speed and r unfort when traveling, by
askim; for Tickei -t
By the Wav of Louisville, Ky.
Thrpipjk Tick t* and Baggage Check*
aiav he procured at the office of the Nash
ville and Cha'ta' coca Railroad a* (’hatta
noogn. and at ali Ticket Offices throughout
*lie South. ALBERT FINK.
W. H. KING, Geii'l. Sup t.
Gen 1. Passen er Ag't. Juneß.
Saint Louis, Memphis,
NASHVILLE &. CHATTANOOGA
RIILEOtD WML
CENTRAL SHORT ROUTE!’
—o
Without Chang- of Cars to Nashville, Me
Kcnzie. Fu! n City. Hi Lilian. Co
lumbn.s. t [nmi-oldt. Browas
ville. and Memphis.
Only < >no ( 'luango
TANARUS» Jackson, Te rn.. Padneah. Ky.. Little
Roek, Cairo, and St. Louis Mo.
MiiRE°THAN
15© Miles Shorter to
Kasnt I,on is
Th an via Memphis or Louisville, and from
8 TO 15 HOURS QUICKER!!
Than via Cos inth or Grand Junction.
ASK Ft )R TICKETS TO
MEMPHIS AND THE SOUTH
WESTVIA CHATTANOOGA
and McKenzie ::
AND TO
fit. Louis and the Northwest via Nashville
and Chjumhus—all Rail: or Nash
ville and Hickman—Rail
and River.
THE LOWEST SPECIAL RATES
10R EMIGRANTS.
WITH MORE ADVAN
TAGES. OFTCKER
7 [ME. AND FEWER
CHANGES OF CARS
*®“THAN ANY OTHER ROUTE."Gi*
Ticket* for Sale at all Principal Ticket
(Offices in the South.
J. W. THOMAS, Gen 7. Supt
W. L. DAN LEY, G. P. & T. Agent
M*rehSß,rf Nashville, Term
Roms Railroad Company
Clisniig-e of Schedule.
DAY PASSENGER TRAIN
Leave Rome 8:10 a m
Arrive at Kingston lt>:3(> ant
Leave Kingston ’ll:4s a m
Arrive at Rome 1:00 pm
NIGHT PASSENGER TRAIN.
Leaves Rome S:4<> p m
Arrive at Kingston 12:40 am
latave Kingston 1:1s am
ATivo at Rome 11:20 m
KsjV. Cojn.eeting with trains on the Wes
j tern A Atlantic Railroad :.t Kingst n. and
i on tile Selum. Rome and Dalton Railroad
! at Rome.
C M. PENNINGTON.
| _ _ Eng. and Sup't.
The Rustic Angler.
BY JULIA JONQUIL.
j It was in the summer of 18—, when
| becoming tired of the turmoil of bnsi
| ess aiid*eity life. I joined a party of
I pleasure-seekers for a trip down the
j Hudson. The pa-ty (which was com
i poued of gentlemen only) were to hunt.
I fish, or amuse themselves at any re
j creation they saw proper.
, The evening of the third day after
| our departure, while the others were
| *ji'ig on the grass discussing the gume
i they had killed, I strolled off alone,
| ami seated myself in a quiet nook on
i the hank of the river where l could
j watch the blue waves ns they rolled
j by, and hear the puff of the boats as
i they glided up and down the stream
i undisturbed. Hearing voices some
distance down the stream, 1 discovered
I two children. The eldest a girl, ap
| parentiy about fourteen years of age,
| was angling, anti the gleeful laugh of
| the other, a hoy ot fottr or five sum
mers, would ring out on the air as his
sister tossed up the silvorv trout from
the depths below. Watching them
for some time unobserved 1 became
j interested in the. strange v, ierd beauty
of the girl. Etom under the broad
j brim ot her straw hat ho g long, elf
l ke locks, reminding me of Unoo's
I‘•Ruth.’’
‘ Round her eye- her tresses f< 11,
and hide were bbtukest n<iiitV i,oiilif "
J- And long la-hex veiled a
A hu h hiid else l«-en aitylii too fieht.’*
’ At hmgtii th,. hoy, venturing too
! a car the edge of the overhanging roek
on which they were ’seated, stumbled
i and fell.
“Sate lily brother! 11. is there no
one to save tnv brother'?” cried the
: girl wringing her hamls and throwing
: them wtldiy in the air.
Throwing off tnv hunting coat, I
! instantly plunged into the stream and
; succeeded in grasping the child just
as he arose to th-- surface the second
; time, and with ail the strength 1 could
i command, made my way toward the
j hank, which I had scarcely reached
: ere my brain reeled and 1 k, ew no
| more. When my senses retured I was
lying on the sand, and a man bending
over too chafing my temples with bran
dy, which he occasionally applied to
uiy lips. I succeeded in swallowing
a small portion, which revived mo.so
as to enable me to raise up.
"Thanks, a thousand thanks,” ex
claimed the girl, soon as she saw that
consciousness had returned. "My
name," she continued, with charming
I frankness, “is Minnie Hay. Come,
| you must go with me to rny father’s
i cottage, so he can see the face of tnv
j brother’s deliverer.”
I would have dissented, but finding
I on rising 1 was too weak to go alone,
I agreed to accompany her. Hie boy
: who had in a measure revived, wax
i placed on a litter, borne by two of the
party of laborers who had corne up,
| while I, leaning on the arm of Min
nie and one of the men, followed at
leisure.
Farmer Ilav was sit ing on the pi
azxa enjoying his pipe, entirely tin
| conscious of what had happened.—
When lie learned what had occurred
• tears filled his eyes, and lie grasped
jmy hand warmly and asked me to
| share his hospitalities with true coun-
I try ardor.
Supper came on in a short time,
Mrs. Hay presiding with the dignity
and grace of a refined hostess, I en
joyed the light rolls, home-made pre
serves, tender chickens, and curds of
i cream, not more than the genuine wel
| come which seemed to rest with all.
For several days I remained at the
; farm-house, sometimes fishing with
; Minnie, who 1 found to he. an intelii
gent girl, and sometimes reading to
j her father. But I finally rejoined my
I eompapioris, arid after rambling up j
; and down fee river for a week re- !
: turned to the city with them, to,find j
j my comfortable fortune swept away,
j I had entered largely in the specula
j tions of the day, and through the
: machinations of an enemy my schemes
had failed, arid I was left almost pen
i niless.
: M hat should I do? I was not long
| in deciding, for a party of emigrants
! were on the point of leaving for Cali-
I fornia. I joined them, and soon found
myself in that land of “golden prom-
SUMMERVILLE, GEORGIA. FRIDAY'. JUNE 28, 1872.
I ise.” I did not meet with tire sue
i cess I had anticipated at first, but fi
! nally Providence smiled on my efforts
! and at the close of the sixth year I
! again held the reins of fortune in my
hands.
It was on my return to my native
city that 1 lignin called at farmer
Hay's cottage. Minnie, whose face
| had haunted me even in the wilds of
! California, was absent at boarding
, school; but l Was informed would he
j at Lome the ensuing autumn, so with
a somewhat lighter hear; 1 took my
leave.
Accordingly, when the woo is put
on their autumn robes, i again sailed
down the Hudson.
"I wonder where I will find her?”
I asked myself, as we neared the shore.
Perhaps, 1 thought, she will be at her
favorite seat on the rock. Yes, there
she was, arrayed in the same crimson
dress and broad brimmed hat she had
worn when I first saw her, while her
fishing line and well filled bask n told
what her occupation was. »
She arose and advanced to meet me
and I fancied I should have known
that light step among a thousand. I
found her little changed, except she
was taller and more womanly.
That evening when the round har
vest moon was sailing serenely up
ward. we strolled down to the spot
where we first met.
“I have come to take you home with
me, Minnie,” said 1, taking her hand.
“To tajte me home with you?” she
repeated.rin surprise.
“Yes,” I replied, "I have prepared
my home for the reception of a bride,
none other than my little Minnie.—
Shall it. he so, thirling?”
Site raised her eyes to mine and I
read her answer from them ere the
long lushes again swept the crimson
cheek.
We were r a cried on a bright af
tunm eve not long afterward. Msji
| eie makes an exemplary wife, and 1
have neve' 1 had cause to repent my
! choice. • Twiet! a rear we visit the
1 cottage, waere 1 learned to love tip)
| RieejCyVAglei-.
Cousin Kfiry Dillard.
V"
B! 1! tail.l'i.V C. JONHS.
[Cousin : ally Dillard is a story
I that must not die. and as it lias been
| some se ee the public have hern
I called upon to laugh over its oxa'ihAnic
i ridiculousness, we will give it a start
! again: j
8c NE—A ce-urt'of justice in South
j Carolina.
i A beardless disciple of Themis rises
; and vims nildres.-.es (lie court: "May
!it pleusc von. - worship and you gen
| demon of the jury, since it lias been
Imy fortune (good or had I will not
| say,) to exercise myself in legal dis
; qnisitioo, it lias never befallen me to
!he obliged to prosecute so dircfully
| marked an assault. A more wilful,
! violent and dangerous battery, and fi.
! nally a more diabolical breach of the
peace, has seldom happened in a civ
ilized country, and I dare sat it sel
dom has heeii your duty to pass upon
one so shocking to benevolent feel
! iog.x. as this which took place over at
; Captain Rice s ii this county; hut
you will hear from the witnesses.”
The witao sew being sworn, two or
I three wore examined and deposed:—
I One'said that he heard the noise bus
i did not see the fight; another that he
I saw ’h" row, hut did not. know who
! struck first, and another that lie was
very drunk and couldn't say much
about the skritnmage.
Lawyer Chops —I anj. sorry^gentle
mon to leave occupied yciur Lima with
I the stupidity of the witnesses examiir
i ed. It arises gentlemen, altogether
from a niisapiirehensi in on my part.
Had I known as I do, that I hud a
| witness who was acquainted with all
j the circumstances ot the case, and
' who was aide to rm.be himself clearly
understood to the court and jury, I
should not have trespassed so long on
your patience., Corne forward Mr.
Harris and he sworn.
So forward conies the witness, a fat,
chiiffy old man. a "leetle” corned, and
took his oath with an air.
Chops—llarrjs, we wish you to tell
about the riot that happened the other
day at Captain Rice’s, and as a good
deal of time has already been wasted
in circumlocution, we wish you to be
compenduon.s, at the same time as ex
plicit as possi'd/;.
Harris-zVdzaklv. (giving the lawyer
a knowing wink, at the same time \
clearing throat,) Captain Rice,
he gin a treat, and cousin Sally Dill
ard she comm over to our lemse and
axed me if my wife she uioutn’t go?)
I told cousin Sally Dillard my wife
was poorly, being as how she had a j
touch of rheumatics in the hip, and \
the big swamp was up in the road, j
there having been a great deal of i
rain lately, hut howsoever, as it was j
she, cousin Sally Dillaid, my wife i
she mout go. Well cousin Sally Dil- 1
lard then axed me if Mose moutn't go?
I told Cousin Sally Dillard that ho •
was the foreman of the crap, and the
cra]i was smartly in the grass, hut
j howsoever, as it was she, cousin Sally
Dillard, Mose he mout go.
Chops—ln the name of common
i sense, Mr. Harris, what do you mean
! hv tins rigmarole?
Witness—Captain Rice, he gin a
treat, and cousin Sully Dill aril, she
came over to my house and asked me
if my wife she moutn’t go? and I told
i cousin Sally Dillard—
Chops—Stop, sir, if you please;
we don't want to hear about- your Sally
; Diiiartl or your wife, tell us about the
| fight at Rice’s.
Witness—Weil, I will sir, if you
| will let me.
Chops—Well, sir, go on.
Witness—Well, sir. Captain Rice,
lie gin a treat and cousin Sally Dii
: lard, she came over to my house and
asked me if my wife she moutn’t go.
Chops—Here it is again. Witness
please to stop.
Witness—W ell, sir, what do you
want?
Chops—W r e want to know about
fight, and you must not proceed
in this impertinent story. Do you
know anything about the matter be
fore tlie court ?
W itness—To he sure I do.
Cliops-Well, go on then, and tell
it, and nothing else.
W itness-W ell, Captatrt- gin
a treat,- v
Cliops-This is intolerable. May it
please the court, I move that the wit
ness lie committed for a contempt.
He seems to lie trifiins with the court.
t niirt- H itness, you are before the
court ot justice, and unless you behave
yanrsi.'ll in a more becoming manner
you wjiJ he sent to jail; so begin and
teji j,! e wlfat you know about the fight
at Rtyre's.
( W itness —Will, gentlemen, Cap
ilaiii -Rice litTgiu a treat, and cousin
. Sail v*'P;lku-tt. ,
Ctnirf—(after debating). Mr. Attor
! ney, the court is qf an opinion that,
wr may siMfee time'Ay boring the-a it
Lm ; s go on in his awn way. Proceed
Mr. Harris, with your story, hut stick
:.J.O the p lint.
j I Fitness—Yes, gentlemen. TFell,
( iptain Riee, "fie gin a treat, and
I cousin t’aliv Dilliik/1 entile nve to our
! 'muse and axed me ii tnv wife she
moutn't go. 1 told cousin Sally Dil
lard that my wife she was poorly", he
u.g as h w she had the rheumatics in
.ter hip. alie lug ,swamp was up'?
.'k.W'i.Tvi r, as it was she, cousin Sully
I hllaiV' my wife she liiopt go. ii ell,
j cousin Sally Dillard then axed me if
j Mose lie moutn't go. I told cousin
Sally Dill trd ax how Mose was the
; (oreiiiu.ii of the crap and the crap was
smartly in the grass, hut howsoever,
a- it was she, cousin Sally Dillard.
Mose mout go. So they goes on to
gether. Mose, my wife and cousin
ally Dillard, and they comes to the
big swamp, and it was up as 1 was
telling you; but being as how there
was a log across the big sw amp, cousin
> illy Dillard and Mose. like genteel
folks, they walked the log, but my
wile, like a darned fool, hoisted her
Coats arid waded through.
Chops—'Heaven and earth, this is
too bid ; hut go on.
II itness— I Veil, that s all j know
about the fight.
IL>n Jnhn H. James.
The ( utlibert Appeal has a corros
: pondent in Stewart county who warm
ly advocates the election of Hon. John
it. James as Governor by the people
• of < ieorgia:
“His large experience, fine adtnin
-1 i Dative powers and unexcoTied finan
cial sagacity would exercise a constant
and beneficial effect upon the financial
l capacities of the State; while his un
questioned integrity of character and
hiu nt honesty endears him to the masses
(•four citizen. The writer in the Ap
p ti, touching on the fact tlia Mr. J.
is not a politician, says: “On that very
ground we ItaG rather trust him,’ and
concludes: ‘Where h" is personally
known, his great popularity rests on
the extraordinary energy, by which
lie lias raised hint- if from penury and
obscurity to opulence, and the no less
extraordinary good sense and meekness
"f character, wfiich have preserved him
from being made a swellhead and a
fool by his money; and the noble liber
al tv, by which his magnificent income
is mub" to flow forth in so many re
freshing streams of charity, to the poor
and to the orphans, to the cause of
edur ttii-n and of the public welfare.
Wo speak the voice of the p, oj«!e of
Georgia, when we say. to euch a man,
he Mi honor done. ”
A Gloomy Piqtuujs. —Large crops
of cotton are planted in the Pee Dee
section, arid a large amount of fertilizers
used. Turpentine business is' increa- :
sed very .much and the depots cannot
hold the corn and hay and bueori that
have to be shipped into the country.
Fences arc rotting down, and fields
are wasting into hedges and gullies,
while you meet wagon after wagon I
loaded with northern hay to feed Ken
: tuckv nml’s. An'] everybody is afraid
1 that everybody will get broke at tor-,
: pentine Sueh a system of industry j
!is too spasmodic and uncertain. It I
i does not establish a healthy business. 1
j It does not secure the laborer his hire
I nor the employer his profit. Another
j remarkable feature in the domestic and
j financial system of this country is the
increase in merchandising. He ven
i Hire to say that there are now in Rieh
| inond, Robeson and Moore counties
: ten stores for every one that was there
iin 1860. The same remark will ap
i plv to a great part of the Southern
j States. .Nearly all the money now
! earned by laborers is spent in stores.
—Fayetteville Eagle.
“The good die first, and they whose
hearts are dry as summer dust burn
to the socket,” said Wordsworth, and
the recent death of Mr. Alexander
Merrilees, better known as “Silly
Kelly," in Edinburg, seems to give
countenance to the poet’s assertion.
This worthy gentleman had reached
the advanced age of oighly-two years,
had been convicted at the police
courts for drunkenness and petty of
fences no less than 860 times, and
had spent forty years in prison. lie
might have exclaimed with Gotthold
when death got hold of him, “When
1 die it is.ijot J who die, but my sin
and misery. ’ but where was the dif
ference except to the payers rate?
Why the Farming Population Dimin
ishes.
Dr. Holland writes in the June
iiunmbr of Scribner s Monthly :
There is some reason for the gen
eral disposition of American men and
women to shun agricultural pursuits
which the observers and philosophers
have been slow to find. Wo see young
men pushing everywhere into trade,
into the learned professions, into in
significant clerkships, into salaried
• positions of every sort that, will take
j them into town ami support and hold
I them tjiero. U e find it to
i drive poor people IVom' the cities with
j the threat and starvation or to- e,#nx
| thgm with tlkv promise of better pay
j and cheaper fare. There they* stay,
i and starve, and sicken, and sink.—-
Yunrig women resort to the simps and
j the factories vatin-r than take service
I in farmer's houses, where they nrere-
I reived as members of .the family; and
when they marry, they seek an alii'
; mice, alien practicable, with meehan
| its and tradesmen who live in villain-,'
and large trtwus. The daughters of
tli<’ l'amier Il v the farm at. the first op
portunity., The towns grow larger
■ all the time, and, in New Ragland at
i least., t.iio farms are beennring wider
and longer, the farming population is
diminished in numbers, and, in some
localities, degraded in quality and
character, li all comes to this, that
isolated life has very little significance
to a social being. The social life of
the village and the city lias intense
; fascination to the lonely dwellers on
> the farm, or to a great multitude of
them. Especially is this the case with
the young. The youth of both sexes
who have seen nothing of the world
have an overwhelming desire to meet
and to he among the multitude. They
feel their life to be narrow in its op
portunities and its rewards but the
pulsations of tho great social heart
that comes to them in rushing trains
and passing steamers, and daily news
j papers, damp with the news of a hun
j dred brows, thrill them with longings
| f(*r the places where the rhythmic
throb is felt and heard. They are not
!to he blamed for this. It is tli ■ most
| natural thing in the world. If' all of
life were labor—if the great'object of
j life were the scraping together of a,
| few dollars more or less—why; isola
j tion without diversion would be ecori
j omy and profit; hut so long as theob- j
,;oct of life, and the host and purest!
and happiest that can come of it, all j
needless isolation is ad ime against, j
the soul, in that it is a surrender and
sacrifice of noble opportunities.”
We make the following extracts
‘ from a letter written to that popular
I journal, the Atlanta Sun, by its Waco
; Texts correspondent:
Waco, Texas, June9th, 1872.
Dear Atlanta Sun : Allow me,
through the columns of your most
welcome paper, to give your n adi rs
a few items from this section, which is
truly the garden spot of the South.
I have traveled very extensively North,
South, East and West, yetdri till my
travels 1 have never found a healthier
or a mop productive country. 1 have ‘
been extensively through Texas, and
speak from personal knowledge. In
regard to health, there is no country
more blessed. A pure, dry atmos
phere and cool breeze prevail at all
times, which will give relief, arid some- I
times a speedy cure in lung diseases, j
I found hut one asthmatic, and only
three persons with consumption in five i
counties, all of whom said they were J
improving rapidly. Wo have very I
little chills and fever.
I recommend to all persons who 1
wish to come to this State, the follow,
ing counties: McLemar, Bell Bosqne-
Coryell and Ilill. For health, water, j
timber, and rich fanning lands, these ;
counties are unsurpassed in the Uni-!
ted States. The average yield of
wheat this year is 28 bushels per acre,
and Commands $2 60 per bushel; and
a better prospect of a heavy yield of
cotton and corn was never seen. Corn
stands about eight feet high with two
ears set on every stalk. Cotton is a
hout three feet high and has com
menced blooming. In regard to fruits
I never saw afl ier crop. We are
I having plenty of ripe apples and of
i the best quality; also, peaches and
small fruits. The grape crop equals
j that of California. Upon one grape
i vine, two years old, of the Concord
I variety, I counted 65 fine bunches,
| grown by Col. J. T. Flint, of Waco.
| The city of Waco is the county
| scat of McLenar county, with its pop
■ illation of eight thousand, and can
j boast of as many advantages and
| pleasures as almost any city of the
I South. fPe have three fine hotels,
| seven churches, two colleges, male and
I female, ice manufactories, cotton man
ufactories, and the finest suspension
; wagon bridge in the United States,
| built across the Brazos river, a span
■of 47.'» feet, at a cost of $195,000.
The Tap Railroad, from the Texas
Central, will be completed by the Ist
of September, to this city; and many
other advantages might he named had
| 1 the time to write them to vou.
We would be pleased to see your
Chief Editor, Alexander H. Stephens,
out here. We will take pleasure in
showing him this beautiful country,
j and go on a Buffalo Hunt; and now
I to all who may read this communica
i tion, we say come to Texas, and we
will welcome you in our garden.
E. J. W.
Henry Wilson, the nominee of the
Philadelphia Convention for the Vice
Presidency, was horn at Farming
rown. New Hampshire, February 16th,
Ul 81 1. He received only a common
'-eliTiol education. He commenced life
ID Ji shoemaker, was afterwards a
wholesale shoe dealer, and, later, ed
ited the Boston He/nih'iaan. He was
between the. year 1941 and 1852 al
most constantly a member of each
successive Legislature of Massachu
setts. lie succeeded Edward Everett in
tin t nited Stares Senate in 1855, and
has been re-elected to each succeed
ing Congress since that time. His
term iti the present Congress would
j hade expired in March, 1877. Ex.
j \\ nat is Life?-—Life is but. death’s
! vestibule, and our pilgrimage on earth
j is hut a journey to the grave; the
pulse that preserves our being heat
our dead march, and the blood which
circulates our life is floating it onward
to the depths of death. To-day wo
see some of our friends in health; to.
morrow we hear of their decease. We
clasped the hand of the stranger man
hut yesterday and to’day we closed
his eyes. We rode in a chariot of
comfort hut an hour ago, and in a few
more hours the last black chariot must
convey us to the home of all the liv
ing. /Stars die mayhaps; it is said
that conflagrations have been seen
| afar off in the other, and astronomers
j have marked the funerals of other
| worlds, the decay of those worlds that
; wc have r agined set forever in sock
! ets of silver to glisten as the lamp of
| eternity. Blessed be God there is one
I place where death is not life's brother,
I where life reigns alone, and “to live,”
is not the first syllable whice is to he
followed by the next ; “to die.” There
is a land where death knells are never
tolled, where winding-sheets are never
woven, where graves are never dug. I
Blessed land beyond the skies. 'To
reach it, we must die.
Charles Lever.
In the sad preface to “Lord Kil-!
golden,” issued a short time since,
-Charles Lever, with a sincerity which
none who read could doubt, expressed
the hope that, this novel, begun in
pleasure and finisbe I in pain, might
he his last work. The writer is dead
before the reviewers have fairly aria l
lvzed and described this latest pro
duction of the fertile brain of the au
thor of “Harry Lorrequer.”
hat a host of happy memories is j
conjured up by the mention of the j
name 1 V, here is the boy who has not i
been fired by “Charles O’Malley” and i
“Toin Burke,” and in love with the
sweet English maidens and Irish girls
who played havoc with the hearts of
the hold dragoons? It is true that
the realities of campaigning are not
altogether so pleasant as tho rides
through sunny Spain and beauteous
I ranee, where hard fighting wa3 re
lieved by bright eyes, sparkling cham
pagne and pereritiiel merry.making.
But as we look back now upon tiie
times of the Confederacy, with all
their sorrows, they seem the happiest
days of our life; the short rations
and long inarches are forgotten, and
the romance of war revives in every
•NO. 25-
heart.
Than Charles Lever, Ireland has
not a more loyal son, loyal to her tra
ditions and history, and loyal to the
purity, the hospitality and the gener
ous liberality of her people. In poli
| tics he was a tory of the old school,
: hut no man has done more to cause
| Ireland to be pitied and admired.—
| The faults of her people seemed vir
tues when described by hismagie hand.
! Others have drawn more minutely the
I characters of the Irish peasantry, but
| no other prose writer has shown the
| Emerald Jsle in so fascinating and
I touching a light. Charles Lever had
: the spirit of a soldier, nnd the flash- ,
! ing. inexhaustible, humor of themo-st
| gifted of his countrymen. It is more
than forty years since the first of his
best-known works was published, and •
they are as fresh and joyous now as
when they took the young and ardent
by storm.
Os late years Charles Lever hag
written several novels of unequal
merit, and, under the signature of
Cornelius O’Dowd, has printed in
Blackwood his intensely Tory com
ments upon men and the times, in
1867, he was removed from the Vice-
Consulate at Spezzia to the same post ,
at Trieste, where he died. For his
tame he had lived too long; vet few j
will hear of the death of the great
Irish novelist, without a nang of re
gret. — Charleston Courier.
St. John's Days.
All should know the homely pro
verb: All work and no play &c. It -
applies to men as well as to boys, and
its truth is no less substantial because
it is clothed in childish words. We
have too many working days, and too
few holidays in our busy years. Ev
ery day taken from the former, and
given to the latter might add a year
to tho score of life, without serious
encroachment upon the lawful claims
of business.
A fixed holiday does not exist so
much in itselt as its anticipation per
meates the days which precede it, and
its brief recollections cast their joy i
beams through many more behind it.
It becomes detached from the dull
lumbering train of the year, like a car
which hears a picnic party to some fa
vorite spot, and stands on a side-track
for their accommodation. The traffic
rolls, and thunders by. arid the coin
trust thus drawn between the pleasure
party, and the rest of the working
world heightens the enjoyment of the
holiday festival. So it is with our
Masonic anniversaries of St. John the
Baptist arid St. John the Evange
list. They are tho especial feast-days
of tho Masonic Fraternity all over the
world. - ,
Without inquiring into their origin
as Masonic festivals, or tracing their
history, and the reasons for their ob
servance, it is enough to know that
these days—representing the longest
and shortest in the year, had special
significance in ancient systems of
Philosophy arid Theology, and have
long been regarded by the Fraternity
of Freemasons as peculiarly, Masonic ■
days Either of them may begin a
Masonic year, and thus become a New
New Year’s Day of our rites. Masons
should not neglect to celebrate such,
an occasion in a becoming manner;
they should not miss the holiday train
which will take them on the common
track of buisness pursuits, and land
them in a region of social enjoyment
Sufficient unto the day is the tradition
thereof ; —it is a Masonic festival; we
have few such episodes, let us value
and cherish those wc have, throw open
our houses for the entertainment of
our friends, and our hearts to a pub
lic expression of those lofty principals
and generous impulses which Free
masonry teaches by its tenets, and sys
tem of secret instruction, signs a"ud
symbols.
The world lias a right, occasionally
to look in upon us to sec whether we
harmonize or disturb the economy of
society, and every Masonic Lodge
ought to so manage its internal affairs
as to be constantly ready for such in
spection. The wry fact that it is
expected periodically to present its
work in open view exercises, in itself, a
healthy check upon the material which
it draws, and gives a harmonious di
rection to the secret labors of the
Brotherhood. If omen have a right
to know where their protectors go so
many nights, to be locked up from
sight, aud to see for themselves tho
kind of company they keep. Saint
Johns Days open the doors and win
dows of our Lodge Rooms and let
the sunshine stream in from the heav
ens, and the sun-shiny spots of earth
beam there in the faces of the loved
ones at home. For the love Masons
bear them, and the Order of Masonry,
let not these bright flocks of sunshine
he excluded either from tha heavens
above or the earth beneath. To se
cure both these blessings let the Fes
tivals of St. John the Baptist and St.
Joljn the Evangelist always ho cele
brated in some manor consistent with
the objects of ih : Oder, a nd tho spir
it of the anniversaries themselves.