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®lj£ Atlanta ganntr anb Haytiat.
THE COLUMN.
Where Is God?
In the sun, the moon, the sky;
On the mountains wild and high;
In the thunder, in the rain,
In the grove, the wood, the plain;
In the little birds that sing:
God is seen in everything.
Carrie’s Faith in her Father.
Carrie’s father and uncle had gone one
afternoon, with the horses and carriage, to
a part of the farm a mile or more distant
from home. Before it was time for them
to return, the horses came home alone.—
Alarmed lest some accident had befallen
them, Carrie’s mother asked her if she
would be willing to go all that long distance
alone, and tell them of the horses’ return
It was then nearly dark, but she had of
ten rode there with her father, and knew
that he would return with her —so she was
not afraid to go; but when she Reached the
place, her father and nncle were nowhere
to be found. Little Carrie waited and
looked awhile, then climbed into the wagon
and seated herself quietly till they should
come. It was a long time for a little girl
of seven years to wait in a strange place,
in the dark, too; and you may imagine the
relief and joy she felt when at last she
heard her father’s voice calling “ Carrie ! ”
“I am here, father; I am in the wagon,”
she cried.
“ Were you not afraid, my daughter, to
stay here alone so long?”
“Not much,” she replied ; “and I knew
you would come back here; and I thought
if I tried to find you, perhaps I should get
lost.”
“ But,” said her father, “we have been
home another way to look for the horses,
and how did you know that I should come
back for you ? ”
“ 0, I knew you-would,” she answered.
“ And were you not very lonesome here
in the dark 1 ”
“ I was a little, but I thought mother
wished me to come; and I could not get
back alone, it was so dark; so I thought
God would take care of me till you came,
and I said over my little hymns and pray
ers, and then you came ”
Precious child! Her confidence in her
father was not misplaced. He had never
deceived or neglected her. She knew he
would come.
Dear children, you have a kind heavenly
Father. He does more for you than any
earthly parent. He loads you with favors.
He preserves you in your going out and
coming in. He blesses you with home and
friends. Will you not trust Him as fully
as Carrie did her earthly parent? He has
given you directions, which, if followed,
will keep you safely in all dangers and tri
als of life, and bring you at last to His glo
rious home. Will you not obey His com
mands, and wait His blessing with the same
child-like confidence and trust?
[Sunday-School Advocate.
The Boy at the Dyke.
A little boy in Holland was returning
one night from a village to which he had
been sent by his father on an errand, when
he noticed the water trickling through a
narrow opening in the dyke. He stopped
and thought what the consequences would
be if the hole was not closed. He knew,
for he had often heard his father tell, the
sad disasters which happened from such
small beginnings; how, in a few hours, the
opening would become larger, and let in
the mighty mass of waters pressing on the
dyke, until, the whole defence being washed
away, the rolling, dashing, angry waters
would sweep on to the next village, de
stroying life and property, and everything
in its way. Should he run home and alarm
the villagers, it would be dark before they
could arrive, and the hole might even then
be so large as to defy all attempts to close
it. Prompted by these thoughts, he seated
himself on the banks of the canal, stopped
the opening with his hands, and patiently
awaittfd the approach of some villager. But
no one came. Hour after hour rolled slow
ly by, yet there sat the heroic boy, in cold
and darkness, shivering, wet, and tired, but
stoutly pressing his hand against the dan
gerous breach. All night he stayed at his
post. At last the morning broke. A cler
gyman, walking up the canal, heard a groan,
and looked around to see whete it came
from. “ Why are you there, my child ? ”
he asked, seeing the boy and surprised at
his strange position. “I am keeping back
the water, sir, and saving the village from
being drowned,” answered the child, with
lips so benumbed with cold that he could
scarcely speak. The astonished minister
relieved the boy. The dyke was closed,
and the danger which threatened hundreds
of lives was prevented.
[ Bond of Brotherhood.
“ The word of Christ strips sin of its
cloak, that it may appear sin." John xv: 22
Tmm m&MMMm, am® ba^txb's.
THE MUTES' COLUMN.
Woman.
Great, indeed, is the task assigned to wo
man ! Who can elevate its dignity ? Not
to make laws, not to lead armies, not to
govern empires; but to form those by
whom laws are made, armies led, and em
pires governed ; f> guard against the slight
est taint of bodily infirmity, the frail, yet
spotless creature, whose moral, no less than
physical being, must be derived from her;
to inspire those principles, to inculcate
those doctrines, to animate those sentiments
which generations yet unborn, and nations
yet uncivilized, will learn to bless; to sof
ten firmness into mercy, and chasten honor
into refinement ; to exalt generosity into
virtue; by a soothing care to allay the an
guish of the body, and the far worse an
guish of the mind; by her tenderness to
disarm passion ; by her purity to triumph
over sense; to cheer the scholar sinking
under his toil; to console the statesman for
the ingratitude of a mistaken people; to
be compensation for friends that are perfid
ious —for happiness that has passed away.
such is her vocation. The couch of the
tortured sufferer, the prison of the deserted
friend, the cross of the rejected Saviour—
these are theatres on which her greatest tri
umphs have been achieved. Such is her
destiny: to visit the forsaken, to tend to
the neglected when monarchs abandon,
when counsellors betray, when justice pros
ecutes, when brethren and disciples flee, to
remain unshaken and unchanged, and to ex
hibit in this lower world a type of that
love, pure, constant and ineffable, which in
another we are taught to believe the test of
virtue.
Be Careful how you Treat Chil
dren.
Sister and 1 have been sitting to-night,
talking over our childhood days. How
many a word, and act, and even look we
remember, which the speakers or actors
deemed we wmuld forget with the passing
hour! How we have been away in secret,
and wept over slightly uttered words, or
have carried their effects upon our whole
after years ! Children are quick to feel—
quick to comprehend; much quicker than
their elders usually deem. I remember
now of the punishment a teacher inflicted
upon me when quite a child. How unkind
and unjust I thought her then, how void of
the better feelings which I possessed. Be
fore that I had loved her dearly ; but l could
never so love her again. The punishment
came because l would not tell what had
made me laugh outright during study hours.
I would not tell, because it would have
thrown the blame upon another. Child as
l was, 1 well remember how my heart
swelled within me to think I could bear
and suffer for another; and even my teacher’s
insisting upon the wrong could not make
me act it. She is dead now, and can never
know how long or how vividly I remem
bered her unjust punishment.
One can never be too watchful over him
self in his dealings with children. Their
perceptions are usually very quick, their
hearts truthful and sincere. If they were
ever and thus steadily dealt with by others,
more would grow up truthful and honest
men and women. And oh, how much we
need such persons among us! It seems to
me children are taught deception from their
very eradles. No wonder they become
such adepts in it in after years.
Few parents have the patience to always
do rightly and deal honestly with their
children. And if parents have it not, how
can they expect their servants will ? They
work for hire; and many of them have no
interest in their labors, save for the time
being. Yet many mothers give np their
children almost entirely to such care. They
are young, and gay, and fashionable, per
haps, and cannot devote their precious time
to the nursery. Society has claims upon
them which must be answered. They
strive to procure good servants, it may be,
and then they have done their duty.
Oh, mothers, is this all your duty? —
When God gave those precious souls to
your keeping, was there no “still small
voice” to your heart, saying he would
again claim them at your hands? Do not
their eloquent pleadings, which every moth
er understands, woo you to a sense of the
sweet, yet heavy responsibility resting up
on you l
Can you turn coldly away, and day after
day, night after night, and week after week,
leave them at pleasure’s or fashion’s fitful
call ? Could you do this and yet hope for
happiness here or hereafter? Ah, no, it
can not be I Nature's voice cannot be so
silenced. It will speak out within the
heart, if not to the world at large. I envy
not the mother who is a devotee at Fash
ion’s shrine. Rather give me laborious
hours and weary vigils by the loved ones
at home; so that, at last, l may “ give up
mine own with usury,” feeling a certainty
that I have done what I could.”
*. J. H.
THE SOLDIERS’ COLUMN.
General Washington in Camp.
Some thirty years ago the New Yorkers
were preparing to celebrate the 4th of Ju
ly, and by a voluntary courtesy one of his
descendants sent the General’s tent that he
had used during the Revolutionary war, to
New York, to assist in the celebration. The
General’s body servant brought it, and bore
a letter to the New York Committee, ask
ing that some attention should be paid to
him, which was done. He was a quadroon,
but a fine, dignified and noble looking old
man.
The tent was pitched in the Park, where
the writer of this saw it. Shortly after
wards he went up the Hudson river on a
steamboat, and this servant was on board,
and told him some of the habits of Gen.
Washington during the war. He had a fix
ed hour for rising in the morning, and go
ing to that part of his tent where his break
fast was to be prepared for him, he would
enter this place and take a chair, and seat
himself by the breakfast table in his.morn
ing-gown, and, with the Holy Bible before
him, read until breakfast time; and when
his man would say to him, “ General, your
breakfast is ready.” the General would
draw out of the book a silk ribbon that was
bound with the book, and place it between
the last pages which he had been reading.
The servant would then bring his boots,
which he would immediately draw on,
throw off his morning gown, and put on
his military coat, and mount his horse,
which was ready at the door. Then he
would commence the labors of the day.—
This is a true account of the camp life of
Gen. Washington during the Revolution.
Untimely Furloughs.
What would be thought of a soldier
who, in the heat of an engagement, should
hasten to his superior officer and ask a fur
lough—ask to get away from the danger
ous, blood-besprinkled struggle of his coun
try ! Scarcely would the voice of censure
lift itself against his officer, should he shoot
down the dastard on the spot.
And what shall we say of those Chris
tians who, in the midst of the daily en
gagements of the Spiritual Army, are al
ways seeking a furlough—always praying
to be excused from present effort, always
refusing to war to-day ! Do they not see
the hosts of Satan embattled against the
church ? Do they not witness the painful
(and, for want of their help, doubtful) con
flict waged by tJwHr brethren { Do not the
groans of the wounded rise to their ears,,
and souls lie slaughtered before their eyes I
Where shall we find language to express
their guiltiness, or tears to bemoan their
folly ? May God awaken them to see that
every day is a battle between the right and
the wrong—that all inactivity is the asking
of a furlough, is the going away without it,
is desertion in the midst of battle.
The Source of Victory. 4
When Joshua fought with Atnalek, it
was *iot only the well-timed onset, the
quivering arrow and the flashing sword that
won the victory. It was the uplifted hand
of Moses on the brow of Horeb, the pre
vailing prayer of intercession, that gained
that laurel to the newly liberated people
in their first encounter, and inscribed upon
the altar of memorial, “ Jehovah-nisi —the
Lord my banner.” And when our armies
are called to this deadly struggle for our
life, while we use skill and courage, we
must fall before the throne, praying the
Lord of Hosts to defend the right. And
when final victory is given us of God, let a
great altar be reared, and “Jehovah-nisi” be
inscribed as the record of a nation’s fervent
gratitude, and the pledge of a people’s liv
ing piety.
The Solemn Moment.
Oh ! how solemn w ill be that hour when
we must struggle with that enemy, Death !
The death-rattle is in our throat —we try to
speak ; the death glaze is on the eye; Death
has put his fingers on these windows of the
body, and shut out the bght forever ; the
hands well nigh refuse-to lift themselves,
and there we are, close on the borders of
the grave! Ah ! that when the
spirit sees its destiny ; that moment of all
moments the most solemn, when the soul
looks through the bars of its cage upon the
world to come! No, 1 can not tell
how the spirit feels, if it be an ungodly
spirit, when it sees a fiery throne of judg
ment, and hears the thunders of Almighty
wrath, while there is but a moment between
it and hell. I can not picture to you what
must be the fright which men will feel,
when they realize what they often heard of!
Christ, the Captain of our salvation, re
quires the soldiers of the cross to keep upon
constant guard ; but He does not put them
into the hands of their own vigilance alone.
Through many a night of danger, when the
eyes are heavy, because, though the spirit
be willing, the flesh is weak, he watehesfor
us—watches in our place —lest Satan should
surprise the soul and slay it.
HOUSE KEEPERS’ COLUMN-
Directions for Keeping Sweet Pota
toes through the Winter.
BY SAMUEL JOHNSON, OP DESOTO, MISS.
\_Cut out and save this, and try iti\
A good method of keeping them is to dig
them, without cutting the potatoes, as soon
as the leaves are bitten by frost, and the
same day they are dug put them in a hill,
which should be elevated six inches at the
bottom above the surrounding earth, and
also place under the hill a floor of boards
and a heavy coat of cornstalks on them,
and then the potatoes on the cornstalks. —
As many as one hundred and fifty bushels
may be put in a hill with safety. Form
the hill as near a circle as convenient, and
also have it tall in proportion to its base.
Then cover it well with cornstalks, next a
course of boards which are dry, and then
with a light coat of dirt, commencing with
the dirt at the bottom of the hill and going
half way to the top of it. The hill should
then be sheltered, and well-drained, eigh
teen inches deep all around it. Ten days
from the time the hill is put up, cover it
all over with dirt four or five inches deep,
and if the winter be a cold one cover still
deeper. I have kept potatoes sound every
year for about eighteen years on the above
method, and think it a good one for gener
al use.
I have known the potato kept well in a
cellar under a brick house. The house
was twenty feet square, the wall twenty
inches thick, and went into the ground two
feet—the floor twu-and-a-half feet above
the level of the ground, one-half of it next
to a fire-place was tongued and grooved,
the other half was made of plank as it
came from the mill —the room over the
cellar was used regularly the year round as
a cook house, had two doors and two win
dows to the room above the cellar—the
wall which surrounded the cellar had a few
small air holes in it, which were left open
until the potatoes went through a sweat,
and were then closed.
I have heard from reliable authority that
the sweet potato has been preserved in a
high state of perfection the year round, in
the town of Covington, Tenn., by placing
them in a cellar under a brick honse, and
filling, as they are heaped, with pulverized
charcoal, and also covering them with it
sufficiently deep to prevent either cold or
heat from damaging them. lam fully con
vinced that the sweet potato may be kept
well quite cheap, and kept in such a way
j|J undergo a small amount of freezing
b*|s| and yet not be damaged by
it; if so, our army and navy should have
the benefit of them this fall and winter
without fail.
The method of preserving them, as last
alluded to, is this: take the potatoes, pile
them, when dug, in a hill in any ordinary
house, cover them a few inches deep with
crab-grass, then let them remain in that
condition about ten days, at which time
commence and bake them in a good brick
oven, having its heat just enough to blister
the potatoes, but not so hot as to scorch
them, laying only one layer deep of pota
toes on the bottom of the oven. Each ov
en-full should remain in the oven from the
time they are put in until it is cold. After
baking them, box them in shallow slatted
boxes, and they are ready for transporta
tion.
Potatoes raised and saved as first direct
ed cost about twenty cents a bushel; yield
an average of one hundred and fifty bush
els per acre The cost of seed, cultivating,
digging and putting up, about eighteen dol.
lars per acre; there are raised annually, in
the State of Mississippi, perhaps three mil
lions of bushels, and in i orth Mississippi, I
think I may safely state, fully half of what
are raised annually rot from imperfect
keeping; and as they are worth in every
family fifty cents a bushel, the State loses,
annually, by not preserving them well, over
a million of dollars, yet might, if they be
kept with certainty by baking, be made an
article of commerce in so preparing them.
The Best Lemon Pie.
Take two lemons, five eggs, two spoons
ful of melted butter, eight spoonsful white |
sugar. Squeeze the juice of all the lem-j
ons, and grate or chop finely the rind of:
one. Stir together the yolks of three eggs,
and white of one, with the sugar, butter,
juice, and rind ; beat well; then add one
coffee cup of good sweet cream (some use
half cream and half milk). Beat all for a
minute or two. Have ready a plate lined!
with pastry, into which pour the mixture,!
which will be sufficient for two pies of the;
ordinary size. Bake till the pastry is done; i
meanwhile beat the remaining whites of
eggs to a stiff froth, and stir in four spoons-1
ful of white sugar; take the pies from the;
oven and spread over equal parts upon:
each, and return them quickly to the oven,|
and bake a delicate brown. Take care that;
the oven be not too hot, or they will brown
too quickly, before the egg is set sufficient
ly, which will cause the pie to fall when ta
ken from the oven. This is a beautiful
i looking pie, and in our opinion, and that of
(■others, the best lemon pie made.
RAILROAD GUIDE.
Georgia Railroad & Banking Cos
Augusta to Atlanta .... 171 Miles P are -A)
GEORGE YONGE, Superintendent.
Morning Passenger Train.
(SUNDAYS EXCEPTED.)
Leave Atlanta daily at ” “• r;
Arrive at Augusta at
Leave Augusta daily at ®
Arrive at Atlanta at •• • o P- M
Night Passenger Train.
Leave Atlanta daily at 7 15 P. M
Arrive at Augastaat 5 30 A. M
Leave Augusta at 4 00 P. M
Arrive at Atlanta at 2 05 A. M
This road ruus in connection with the trains or
the South Carolina and the Savannah and Augusta
Railroads, at Augusta.
Macon and Western Railroad.
CHANGE of schedule.
Macon to Atlanta 104 Miles.... Fare f4 50.
ALFRED L. TYLER, Superintendent.
Leave Maeon at 10 00 a. m
Arrive at Atlanta at , 4 00 p. m
Leave Atlanta at '. 11 00 a. m
Arrive at Maeon 4 55 p. m
This train connects with Central, South-western
and Muscogee railroads at Macon.
Western & Atlantic (State) Railroad* -
Atlanta to Chattanooga, 138 Miles —Fare,...ss.
JOHN S. ROWLAND, Superintendent.
PASSENGER TRAIN.
Leaves Atlanta, nightly, at 7 30, P M
Arrives at Chattanooga at 4.51, A M
Leaves Chattanooga at 5.00, P M
Arrives at Atlanta at 2.80, A M
EXPRESS FREIGHT AND PASSENGER TRAIN.
Leaves Atlanta, daily, at 3.00, A M
Arrives at Chattanooga at 2.50, 1 M
Leaves Chattanooga at 3.15, A M
Arrives at Atlanta at 3 >B, 1 M
ACCOMMODATION PASSENGER TRAIN.
Leaves Atlanta at - 2.00 P. M.
Arrives at Kingston at 7.00 P. M.
Leaves Kingston at - 5.30 A. M.
Arrives at Atlanta at - - - * 10.50 A. M.
This Road connects, each way, with the Rome
Branch Railroad at Kingston, the East Tennessee
and Georgia Railroad at Dalton, and the Nashville
& Chattanooga Railroad at Chattanooga.
Atlanta and West Point Railroad.
Atlanta to West Point 87 Miles Fare $3 50
GEORGE G. HULL, Superintendent.
MORNING PASSENGER TRAIN.
Leaves Atlanta, daily., at 2.45, A M
Arrives at West-Point at 7.35, A M
Leaves West-Point, daily, at 12.40, P M
Arrives at Atlanta at 5.30, A M
EVENING PASSENGER TRAIN.
Leaves Atlanta 6.00, P. M.
Arri ve at West Point - 11.22, A. M.
Leaves West Point ... - 2.00, P. M.
Arrives at Atlanta - - - ®-48, P. M.
This Road connects with the Montgomery' and
West Point Road at West Point.
ADVERTISEMENTS.
School Notice.
Miss ANNIE SMITH, a graduate of a
Southern Female College, has just opened a
School, for girls and small boys, in the base
ment room of the Second Baptist Church in
this city, and respectfully solicits a share of
public patronage.
For testimonials of scholarship she refers to
Prof. U. W. Wise, Pres’t It. D. Mallary, and
to Rev. H. C. Hornady.
Atlanta, June 6, 1862.
MERCER UNIVERSITY,
PEN FIELD, GREENE COUNTY, GEORGIA.
FACULTY.
President—N. M. Crawford, D. D.
Professors—S. P. Sanford, A. M.,
J. E. Willett, A. M.,
Wm. G. Woodfin, A. M.
Thrological Seminary. —Professor N.
M. Crawford, D. D.
DEPARTMENTS.
1. A college course of four years, equal to that
of the best colleges in the country.
2. A theological course, of three years, design
ed for those who are preparing lor the Gospel Min
istry.
3. A scientific course of four years, including,
with some additions, all the studies of the collegi
ate course, except the ancient languages.
4. An academical department, embracing all who
are not prepared to enter college.
COMMENCEMENT AND VACATIONS.
The Commencement is held on the second Wed
needayin July.
There are two vacations, dividing the year into
two terms.
Fall Term begins on the first Wednesday in Sep
tember, and closes on the 13th of December.
Spring Term begins on the fourth Wednesday in
January, and closes on Commencement day.
8. LANDRUM, Secr’v Board Trustees,
July 26,1863. SaWimiah, Ga.
James McPherson & Cos.
HAVE opened next door North of BEACH
& ROOT’S Store on Whitehall Street, a
new and select Stock of
BOOKS and STATIONERY*
Together with an endless variety of fancy arti
cles, such as,
ENGRAVINGS, GOLD PENS AND PEN
CILS. WINDOW SHADE SAND GILT
CORNICES\ PICTURE FRAMES'
WALL PAPER , FIRESCREENS,
RICH CHINA AND PARIAN
VASES, PARIAN FIG
URES, dkc., dec.
Foreign Books imported to order.
Teachers and Merchants supplied at Charles
ton prices, freight only added.
Picture Frames made to order.
Remember the New Book Store of
jas. McPherson & Cos.
Franklin Priming House,
ATLANTA, GA.
Having purchased of Messrs. Wood,
Hanleiter, Rice A Cos. their entire establish
ment, favorably known as the Franklin
Printing House, we would respectfully ask
a continuance of the patronage heretofore so
liberally bestowed on them, and promise to
use every exertion to render entire satis
faction. Our facilities for the printing and
binding of BOOKS, and for general JOB
WORK, it is believed, are equal to any
establishment in the Confederate States.—
A reasonable stock of Printing and Binding
Material now on hand, and will be kept for
the purpose of suppling any demand.
J. J. TOON A CO.
Vol. IV
