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BY HORNADY & ELLS.
VOL. 11l
@lu' glWMif flU(l
DEVOTED TO LITERATURE AND RELIGION,
Is published every Saturday, at Atlanta, Georgia, at the
subscription price of throe dollars per year.
HORN ADA & ELLS,
Editors and Proprietors.
H. C. Hornady] [.James N. E11&-
I'oace with
Mav Lope no present pleasure mar,
Much less my patience here prevent,
But be from me forever far
The brute’s beatitude, content!
While Heav’n, unweary, waits to bless,
How foolish is the man and vain,
Whose low ambition looks to less
Than that which none shall e’er attain !
These Scriptures have my heart enlarged:
“Be holy,” and the wondrous word :
“ With folly God his angels charged,
And none is holy but the Lord; ”
And, that interpreting by this,
I learn, with absolute desire,
To scorn the lap of every bliss
Which does not nurse me for a higher.
Yet, having seen the frantic moU
Of base life link’d with thoughts that tower,
And felt how humbling the recoil
Of hearts aspiring past their power,
I, knowing that the realm of God
Is nigh me, even in the heart,
Will take no eagle flights abroad,
Lest peace, a startled dove, depart.
4
Esther Thorne.
I>Y M. E.
TABTIIER THORNE knew little of the
Jj gayety and freedom of ch id hood.—-
She was the only daughter of a family of
five children, but, instead of being on that
account more petted than she Otherwise
would have been, it only seemed to make
her more the slave of her bustling mother,
and noisy, tyrannical brothers. Had there
been two girls, their united wills would
have made a stand to resist the encroach
ments made on t heir rights by their selfish
and unthinking relatives; but poor Esther
toiled and suffered alone. Her father was
a stern man, who seldom noticed his chil
dren except to command them; and altho’
Esther loved him tenderly, yet her fear of
him caused her almost to shrink from his
presence. Her mother was a busy house
wife, entirely occupied with providing for
the temporal wants of her family. This
world satisfied her, and after she had ac
complished what she called a good day s
work, she knew no unsatisfied want, such as
a mind unfed hr ugs its possessor. The
only talent slie valued was the talent for
labor; and she mourned unceasingly over
Esther’s strong taste for reading, as*she
was convinced it would only render her
worthless if persevered in. W hat could
such a woman know of the quiet yet intel
lectual Esther, whose love for reading seem
ed ever unsatisfied ? Mrs Thorne, altho'
.she ha I great pride in her boisterous sons,
and a certain maternal feeling for Esther,
yot never seemed to think she needed rest
or play, and was constantly hurrying her
from one task to another, from morning till
night.
With an active, eager, and naturally firm
mind, forced into such uncongenial ways,
serious evils followed to Esther’s disposi
tion. So strong had been the hand of pa
rental authority over her, that her native
traits of character had never shown them
selves. She had a will strong even to stub
bornness ; it. had never yet been roused to
activity, but 4 it caused her by degrees to
neglect, her tasks, if not closely watched, and
steal away to indulge herself in her favor
ite occupation. The ehidings of her moth
er. too, at her persistence in whar she called
Esther’s idle ways, came at last to be sul
lenly taken as a matter of course.
As Esther had few lawks of her own, she
h >crowed, and read indiscriminately every
thing that could be found in her circle of
acquaintance; and among these there were,
unfortunately, many romances of the old
• and us ! Voter was too young L< see
the absurdity of many of these tales of tie
lion, she drank them all in as truth. She
began by admiring the heroines, but ended
by making herself one, and by the aid of
j’uney placing herself in their positions.
Her natural reserve and lack of intimate
friends of her own age strengthened this
tendency ** much, that she soon acquired
the habit of living in a world of her own
that she created in her own thoughts. In
this world no otseever chided her, and there
was no labor; all was made up of just such
ove and kindness as her heart yearned for.
ATLANTA, GEORGIA, OCTOBER 4, 1862.
Gradually her thoughts took one form.—
She Was some day to meet, and that in no
ordinary manner, the hero of her dreams,
who was to know her as she fancied she
knew herself, and who would at once re
move her from her uncongenial home to
one of bis own, where in the sunshine of
his affections her chilled heart would ex
pand, and life henceforth would be one long
day of happiness. Then she was to have
leisure to cultivate her taste for study, and
when the temptations to wrong-doing were
removed, she was to be so good !
This hero, Esther ever thought of as one
far exceeding in beauty and excellence any
person she had ever seen; and she never
once thought of the improbability of such
a person, if he even existed, fancying such
a shy, homely person as her-elf. It made
such an agreeable variety in her toilsome
way of life to build these air castles while
doing the dally work she so much detested,
that Either never paused to question wheth
er it were a profitable kind of employment
jr not.
Thus passed year after year of Esther’s
life until she attained the age of fifteen,
when a ehimge took place in her circum
stances. Her mother suddenly died, and
a sister of Mr. T. came to preside over the
household; who, being a woman of intelli
gence, at once understood enough of Es
ther’s mind to sympathize with her, and it
was through her influence that Mr. Thorne
was induced to send her away to school.—
Here her zeal and perseverance were such,
that she soon stood among the best pupils,
and she found herself quite unexpectedly
the object of both admiration and envy;
and if some egotism mingled with the nat
ural pride she felt at her progress, what
wonder w r as it 1
But the neglects of hei early ) ears, that
Esther had so keenly (id!, had left too deep
an impression on her sensitive nature to be
easily erased ; and Esther, though very
much liked, still had no intimate friend, and
remained plain and unattractive. Knowing
herself to be gifted in mind, she gradually
came to despise the little arts of dress that
would have rendered her plainness less con
spicuous. Her lack of knowledge of the
world also caused her to think herself bet
ter than those, who had fewer gifts of the
mind. Her hab tof living in dreamland
had become lived. She was satisfied that
no common husband could make her hap
py ; and as years passed on after her return
home, and she saw one after another of her
young acquaintances marry and seem con
tented and happy, Esther smiled with con
tempt at their commonplace ideas of life.
But at last Esther loved, and, as many
another woman has done before, she invest
ed the object of her choice with all the
qualities her ideal lover possessed. What
she wished to see in him, with the self
deception of inexperienced love, she saw. —
To uninterested observers, John Fielding
was merely a sensible, good man, but by
in) means brilliant, and who despised ro
mance or rather sentiment with all his
heart, lie was quite elated at bis success
in winning the fastidious Miss Thorne; and
if he differed from her frankly-expressed
thoughts of what married life should be, he
did not think it necessary to tell her so;
and so Esther married, firmly believing
that she could now rest in the love her
strong heart desired.
But, alas for Est her, she had fixed her
hopes on an unstable foundation. Her
complete isolation in her earty years from
those of her own age had not taught her
how nearly alike are the feelings of every
w oman’s heart. She thought herself alone
in her longing for a more perfect union of
sentiment than is usually found in married
life, nor did she know how many a woman
j must see t he gilded visions of girlhood fade
| away, and stern reality fillup the picture. |
| Her observation of the world, after she
; reached the years of womanhood, bad failed
to correct her falsely conceived ideas of
life, and consequently, after a few months,
when Esther began to find that her husband
was merely an ordinary mortal, and prized
her as much for her housekeeping qualities
as for her gifts of mind—that he loved his
own will better than he did hers, and did
not anticipate what would give her pleas
ure, as he did iu the days of ks wooing,
her heart sunk back in dark disappoint
ment, and she almost forgot the worth of
his real man} qualities, and ceased to prize l
“his banner over” us is “love.”
as she should, his genuine affection, because
his actions did not shadow it forth as her
exacting disposition required. When she
found that she had not known him wholly
from the first, she charged him with the
deception she had practised-on herself. •
Had Mr. Fielding died after Esther had
learned to love him, and before4ier4deas
had been rudely swept sway, she would
have mourned for him faithfully ail her
life; but she could not see him as he really
was, and adapt herself to the change. To
those who do not know how much a wo
man’s life is of the affections, this story
will have no meaning, for outwardly Es_
ther had every thing to make her happy
a home of comfort and taste, and a has
band who supplied her wants cheerfully, as
far as he knew them, but who had not the
gift to understand a woman as morbidly
sensitive as Esther.
If he had known all the circumstances
which had conspired to form and strength
en her habits of thought, he might have
reasoned herjnto a healthier tone of mind ;
but he looked at things at. an entirely dif
ferent stand-point" from Esther’s. llis bu
siness cares engrossed his mind, and, happy
himself, he could not see why Esther was
not so too; he did not trouble himself
about the matter at ali, but went his way
indifferent to what he called Esther’s fan
cies, while she returned to her old habits of
reserve, thinking herself the most misera
b!e of women.
Although she had now plenty of books
and leisure to pursue her favorite studies,
she vvas too sick at heart to take pleasure
in them. If Esther’s trouble was fanciful,
it was at least founded upon the natural
feeling of every woman’s heart to be loved
and cherished.
Thus passed away several years, spent
by Esther in sullenly struggling with her
discontent, and not even could the children
that came to her chase away the dark cloud
from her mind.
But all truly noble minds have a self
righting power which will sooner or later
develope; and Esther was too good and
true to remain ever# prey to evil thoughts.
She began to see at last,that the world wa-'
better as it was than it w ould be if every
person could live for his or her own selfish
happiness. She began to have a solid re
spect for her husband, that he could make
himself an honorable name among men, in
stead of being satisfied with living on the
smiles of the woman he loved, as she had
once wished. She began to feel that she
had a work to do herself, and, if her early
neglect and its consequences had unfitted
her to fill her station properly, that she
must now make herself competent for it.—
By degrees the labor required of her iu su
perintendirig her household, which she had I
from the first performed because slie de
spised slackness, assumed a dignity in her
eyes.
Esther felt anew spirit animate her,
she resolved valiantly to throw off the mor
bid state of mind w hieh had so long op
pressed her; to strangle any heartaches
she might feel for lack of being appreciated,
and to find in doing her duty her highest
pleasure. The struggle it had cost her to
reach this point had been very severe, hut
when she han reached it she felt that-he
had gained a victory.
Esther had just begun to find what great
aids self-knowledge and self reliance are to
tranquility, w hen another change came, but
not to her. Tier husband, who had always
been a prosperous business man, met with
several heavy losses, some of them partieu
larly aggravating, being the result of mis
placed confidence in professed friends
No man, however firm he may be, no
matter how much he may profess to the
contrary, is above the want of $\ mpalhy at
times, —and how natural and manlike it
was in Mr. Fielding to turn to Esther for
comfort in his troubles, confident of her
being ready to give it, as if he had not
turned a deaf car to her whenever he had
chosen.
And Esther, true wife that she was, did
not fail him, but soothed him to the best of
her ability ; and, as he had the utmost con
fidence in her discretion, it was a great re
lief to nis feeling- to rehearse to her his
sources of irritation. But there was one
thing about Esther, that he now began to
perceive for the first time, that quite dis
concerted him. Although she studied his
wishes in every respect as usual, and sym
pathised with him whenever he opened his
heart to her, yet she seemed to take his
confidence and friendliness as coolly as if
it were no longer necessary to her enjoy
ment. Now that it was gone, he missed
and yearned for the old passionate warmth
with which she used to gieet him. The
thought of her becoming indifferent to him
he had once deemed impossible ; but now,
as he watched her day by day and saw that
her calm manner was real, not assumed out
of resentment, his heart felt many a pang
keener than it had ever known before.—
In truth, Esther had lavished her affection
on him with such prodigality that the foun
tain of her heart was dry, and though her
mind was active as ever, feeling seemed
dead. If ever it should revive again de
pended on whether her husband should
take the right means or not.
Happily for them both, Mr. Fielding was
a man of warm heart as well as good sense,
whose knowledge of women vvas an unde
veloped sense, as yet. 11 is misunder
standing of Esther had not been so much a
wilful disregard of her feelings as an ignor
ance of the workings of a sensitive heart.—
Now that he was tried, he found himself as
weak as he had once thought her. But he
did not stop to mourn over what he feared
| to be the loss of her love; earnestly yet
tenderly he strove to win it back. He no
longer thought it a stain on his manhood to
manifest his feelings by little kindly acts,
and he found to his astonishment that wo
men prize, these small attentions more than
they do important benefits. With all his
care and tenderness, it took him a long
time to win Esther from her indifference,
but when he did, he prized her love as his
most precious treasure.
ft was true and generous affection*' that,
grew out of the wreck of their former sel
fish regard for each other. Gradually they
grew to be more alike in their tastes; Mr.
Fielding lost some of his worldliness, and
came to lake pleasure in Esther’s intellect
ual pursuits, and Esther learned, not only
to love more w isely, but to set a proper
value on the homely virtue of industry, \
Now, in the enjoyment of the first sub" I
stantial happiness she has ever known, Es j
ther looks back on the past w ith a thought-1
ful eye, and strives so to understand and i
educate her own daughters that they may ,
avoid her mistakes.
What are you Looking For f — A man
w\as angry with his wife, either because she
talked too much, or for some reason or
other? and resolved not to speak to her
for a long-—long time. He kept his reso
lution for a few days very strict!} . O.ie
evening he is lying in bed, and wishes to
sleep ; he draws his nightcap over his ears,
and his wife may say what she will—he
hears nothing of it. The w ife then takes a
candle, and carries it to every nook and
corner of the room ; she removes stools and
chairs and tables, and looks carefully be find
them. The husband sits up in bed, and
gazes inquiringly at her movements; he
thinks that the din must have an end at
last. But he is mistaken. His wife keeps
on looking and searching. The husband
loses patience and cries, “ What are you
looking for?” “For your tongue,” she
answers; “and now' that 1 have found it,
tell me why you are angry.” Hereupon
they became gi>od friends again.
True for Once —A traveller announces
as a fact (and though be w a ‘traveller’
we believe him), that he once in his life
beheld people “minding their own busi
ness!” This remarkable occurrence hap
pened at sea, the passengers being “too
sick” to attend to each other’s concerns.
- ♦ "
How to bk vn Early Kiser. —Jump
out of bed-the moment you hear the knock
at the door. The man who hesitates when
called is lost. The mind should he made
up in a minute, for early rising is one of
those subjects that admit of no turning over.
—r 'MV-- -# '•
* Fitness of T minus.’— -Mr. P.’s little
daughter cam* 1 running to her aunt one day,
saving, “Aunt Kate, little Mattie has
swallowed a button! ” Seeing her terror,
her aunt calmly replied, “ Well, what
good will that do her?” Said the child
very seriously, “Not any good, a- I see,
unless she swallows a button-hole ! "
TERMS —Three tCollars a-year.
Epigram on Prayer.
Prayer highest soars when she most prostrate
lies,
And when she supplicates slie storms theskk s.
Thus to gain heaven may seem an easy task,
For what can be more easy than to ask ?
Yet oft we do by sad experience find,
That, clogged with-earth, *-ine prayers aie
left behind.
And some like chart' blown off by every wind.
To kueel is easy, to pronounce not hard,
Then why are some petitioners dehan’d ?
Hear what an ancient oracle declared :
Some sing their prayers, and some their prayers.
say,
He’s' an Elias, who his prayers can pray.
remember, when next you repair
To church or closet, this memoir of prayer.
[Written for ihe Banner .and Baptist]
Ancient Gems, K e-set to suit Mod
ern Fashions.
ii.
“Drunkenness is the work *t the devil.
“A drunkard is a dead living man; a volun
tary demon; a ruin without excuse; and the
common disgrace of mankind.
“ A drunkard is disagreeable to his friends,
laughed at by his enemies, despised by his
slaves, joyless to his wife, odious to all, and
more disgusting than the very beasts.”
[Chrysostom, vol. ii: 8, 9, 590.
The nature of drunkenness and the habit
of the drunkard have not changed. With
the knowledge of both, it is not surprising
that lloly Writ declares that no “drunk
ard shall inherit the kingdom of God.”—
But. ft is a fact w'ell calculated to bring
shame upon the friends of free institutions,
that drunkenness has been so prevalent in
America as to cause it to be said that the
people of the old United States were “ a
nation of drunkards.” Mortifying and
melancholy is the fact that in the disrupt ion
of the Union a full share of the guilt and
disgrace of drunkenness attaches both to
D , .
j federate States.
It has been reported that a distinguished
general of our army has s-akl, “ If the Con
federate States are overthrown the epitaph
should be, Died of whiskey." In the or
ganization of the army, volunteers have
elected drunken captains, majors and col
jonels; and the government has appointed
land promoted drunken generals, knowing
! them to be drunken. Drunken surgeons,
quartermasters and commissaries have been
appointed; and drunken congressmen and
governors have been elected by the people.
And yet life, liberty, and all that is dear
to men is entrusted to these officers!—
And now proposals are published by the
Confederate authorities for twenty-five
thousand barrels of whiskey to be delivered
in the state of Georgia for the use of the
army. What use thfc army has for a mil
lion of gallons of w hiskey, 1 do not know.
But, judging of the future by w hat we have
heard in the past, there is reason to fear
that much of th£ whiskey which is manu
factured ostensibly for the use of the sick
soldier will be misused to satisfy the appe
tite of drunken officials. Will the govern
ment take care that officers shall not get
drunk on what is obtained for the welfare
of the soldiers? Hope might be entertain
ed if Congress had not tabled Gov. Smith’s
resolution to cashier officers who should
get drunk. As matters stand there is
much more ground for apprehension than
hope.
It is said that Lee, Beauregard, Bragg,
Jackson and Hill are as brilliant examples
of sobriety as of valor and military skill.
Let the commanders of inferior grade em
ulate the virtue of their great leaders, and
we may have an army of sober as well as
brave soldiers. And these soldiers, if
their lives are spared, will be the citizens
who are to give character to the nation
whose independence their courage shall
achieve.
Me robs University, Se|>t., Is6.\ N. M. C.
- • *4
Beaitifcl Inscription. —A little girl,
about five years old, died some time since,
of malignant scarlet fever. After the dis
ease had taken complete possession of her,
so that it was difficult to determine wheth
er* she recognised those who were about
her, her mother asked her if she knew r who
wa> taking care of her? The dying child
looked up with a smile, the expressiveness
of which can not be described, and said,
“ God hikes cure of me."
This expression was transferred to, the
slab that marks the resting-place of the lit
tle sleeper; and no words could more sim
ply express the sublime idea of immortality.
NO. 46.