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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.