BY HORNADY & ELLS.
®ls lauim aafl ISpthst,
DEVOTED TO RELIGION AND LITERATURE,
Is published every Saturday, at Atlanta, Georgia, at the
subscription price of three dollars per year.
HORNADY & ELLS,
Editors and Proprietors.
H. C. Hornady.] [James N. Ells.
Bteam Press of Franklin Printing House—J. J. Toon A Cos.
IN THE DISTANCE
BT MSS. R. B. IDIOM.
The sky, that wraps so lovingly
Her azure mantle, soft and fair,
About the rough and sullen rocks,
VVhloh lift their foreheads stern and bare,
Turns, when you gain the toilsome height,
To chilling draughts of common air.
A rainbow spanned the weeping sky
Right royally, one summer day;
Childlike, I sought the slender pine,
Within whose tassel:d boughs it lay:
When, 10l Sts arching gorgeousness
Sprang ilgh'ly o’er the far off bay!
This morning, when my eager eye*
Peered through the frosted window-par.*-,
Lo! fairy hands had strewn withpearle
The shrul sand grasses of the pialn;
I grasped the glittering gems, to find
Them only drops of frozen rain !
Ah, ever thus these mirage charms
Obscure the good to-day may bear ;
And men still vainly try to grasp
What, in the distance, looks so fair:
Like children catching in their play,
Gay baubles, bursting into air!
Shattered by the First Storm.
A STORY FOR YOUNG MEN.
AT the ripe age of'twenty one, handsome
Harry Melville decided to go into bu
siness on his own account.
“Wait until you arc twenty-five,” said!
Harry’s prudent father.
“ And lose four years! ” returned Harry, I
almost with indignation. “It is folly.”
“And gain ten,” said old Mr. Melville, j
“ The earlier a young man goes into busi- j
ness, the oftener he has got to fail before|
he grows wise t-nough and strong enough,
for success. My advice is to wait until ;
you are thirty. There will be ten chances j
in your favor then to one in your favor
But Harry considered his father old fo
gyisli and behind the times, and so let his
prudent counsel go for naught. He had
been three years in a jobbing house on
Market street, and considered himself fully
posted up in business matters, and quite
equal to the common run of merchants. —
Indeed, to hear Harry talk on matters of;
trade was quite edifying; and an uninitiated
listener would hardly fail to give him cred
it for considerably more than was his due.
Harry Melville had ten thousand dollars j
left to him by an uncle. At twenty one, j
the property came into his hands. It was I
in the shape of State stocks, and readily
convertible into money. Upon this sum
he commenced business, in company with a
young friend about his own age and about
Teu thousand dollars in cash was some
thing of a basis for credit; and, although j
our young merchants expended twenty five;
hundred dollars in fitting up their store,;
they found no difficulty iu stocking it with
more than all the goods they needed.
The times were propitious. Credit was
cheap. Everybody bought and everybody |
sold, with scarcely the formality of inquiry;
as to the basis upon which confidence rest
ed. Iu less than two years, Melville &j
Morris were doing business at the fast rate
of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars
per annum, and making fabulous profits.—!
To marry, and set up flashy, domestic es j
tablishments, came as a natural result.—;
Both the young partners committed thisi
additional folly . To marry would have been
well enough, if modest Prudence had
smiled her quiet blessing on the rites. But,
as it was, silly Pride and weak Ambition
Old Mr. Melville shook his head, looked
grave, and remonstrated in private with his
son; but Harry grew impatient at the old
gentleman’s narrow-thoughted interference,
and finally requested him to cease the repe
tition of language that was only felt as an
annoyance, Of course, the father was hurt, |
and did not go near his son again for some
weeks. Asa peace-offering, Harry bought ;
anew house, for which he paid down three
thousand dollars in cash, and gave his notes 1
for the balance, four thousand. With the
title deeds in his pocket, he called at the;
modest paternal residence, Mr. Melville
received his son kindly, vet not with the
old cordiality, for one or two sentences, ut~ j
tered during their last interview, stung him I
severely, and the pain had not vet subsided.
“ W hat are those 1 ” asked the elder Mr. ]
Melville, as Harry laid upou a table, before!
his father, the title papers of the new house,
liead them,” was the smiling answer.
With a half curious manner, Mr. Mel
villa opened a broad parchment sheet. His
eves glanced hurtled!) over the contents;
but his face, instead of brightening, grew
clouded. “Explain this, Harry," he said,
looking up at his sou>
“ Does it not explain itself, father ? ”
“ You are scarcely two years in business,
my son; and now* you propose to take
from that business two thirds of your orig
inal capital, and put it into a house for me.”
“But we have made over fifty thousand
dollars, and are actually coining money in
“ Profits on paper, at best,” answered
the incorrigible old man. “But, my word
for it, if the footing up is so large, there is
a mistake in the figures somewhere. The
thing I regard as simply impossible. You
are dashing ahead at too desperate a speed,
my son, as 1 have before declared; and
just so sure as any disastrous change in the
business world takes place, will you be
hurled to swift destruction.”
In anger, Harry parted with his father
on that day. On the next, his bank offer
ings were all thrown out. He called in
surprise, upon the cashier, to ask the rea
son. There was a stringency in the mar
ket, an unusual demand for money ; depos
itors were drawing out heavily, and the
bank was restricting its loans. This was
the comfort he received. He tried to bor
row from accommodating neighbors; but
everybody had been cut down or cut off at
bank, and so everybody was “short.” A
pulse of fear throbbed suddenly in the heart
of Harry Melville. He took down sundry
bank notices from a rack, and ascertained
the amount w hich must be paid before three
o’clock. The sum reached the uncomforta
ble aggregate of fifteen thousand dollars;
while the bank balance was below three
thousand. So there were twelve thousand
ATLANTA, GEORGIA, NOVEMBER 29, 1862.
’Mr. Melville shook his head to make his
“no” still more emphatic.
“ I have always looked forward to this
time with a pleasure that words can hardly
express,” said Harry, leaning towards his
father, and speaking with a sudden warmth
of manner. “These papers are simply the
title deeds of a house, which is yours.—
Take them, as some small return for all
that I owe you, A son’s debt to a good
father can never be wholly cancelled.”
Mr. Melville was touched by this act,
and softened by the manner of his son.—
For almost a minute he sat with his gaze
upon the floor. Then, looking up, he said,
in a low voice that trembled with suppress
ed feeling : “ My dear boy, it pains me deep
ly to refuse what, in the generous impulse
of your heart, is now so freely offered.—
But this house is not yours to give, and,
therefore, honor and right compel me to
decline its acceptance.”
“ Not mine to give? Father! what do
you mean ? ”
‘ It belongs to your creditors, Harry.”
“My creditors! Am 1, then, only a
bankrupt in your eyes? Father, this is
too much ! ”
Young Melville considered himself great
as a financier. His self-confidence over
leaped all possibilities and impossibilities.
But the time of trial and proof had come
now. Credit and confidence are sensitive
things. When banks restrict, private lend
ers take the alarm ; and the price of money
goes un to ruinous figures. So our young
merchant found it. Melville’s financiering
operations on that day were things for after
remembrance. He has, probably, not for
gotten them up to this time. At three
o'clock his notes were all lifted, but at a
sacrifice fearful to contemplate.
After a glance at his bill-book for the
next, day, Melvife started for his luxurious
home, to meet his dainty, fashionable wife,
in a state of mind bordering on to despair,
for the next day’s payments were over
twelve thousand dollars. He had seen and
heard enough, during the day’s financial ex
periments, to satisfy him that not one-half
of that sum oould be raised ; and so a vague
terror took the place of conceited self con
fidence; and the frightened young mer
chant, who had come in and gone out with
such an elastic tread and proud bearing,
entered bis home with ail his feathers
drcoping. So quietly had he coine in that
his waiting wife failed to hear the opening
door and familiar step in the passage.—
Wondering at her husband’s long stay be
yond the usual hour, she came down stairs,
under the influence of a restless feeling.—
Entering the parlor, she started in sudden
surprise and alarm, for there, reclining upon
a lounge, was her handsome young hus
band, his pale face the image of weak de
spair. “ Oh, Harry, you are ill! ” she ex
claimed, flying across the room and drop
ping down upon the floor in front of the
“ I am in trouble,” was his choking re
“Oh, what has happened, Hurry ?”
“ l don’t know,” he answered. “I am
bewildered. Something has gone wrong in
business. Oh, Flurry, t have passed thro’
a tearful day ! and there is no strength left
What a change from the bold, business
braggart of the das before! But Harry
Melville was a mere dandy in trade. There
w>s no muscle in the man, no reserved
power, no elastic property. He had grown
as a balloon grows, and, like a balloon, col
lapsed at the first sharp puncture.
V* hat could a mere summer blossom of
a wife do to help a man in such an extrem
ity i Nothing. She could weep, and wring
iher hand*, and sob like a distressed actress.
“his banner over” us is “love.”
But she had no comforting suggestions, no
brave words, no hopeful sentiments to offer.
Did our young merchant, after a period
of cool reflection, take heart again? Did
he go out on the next morning, and nerve him
self for another struggle with the difficul
ties which had so suddenly closed around
him? No! Busy memory,‘•through the
remainder of that day and evening, sup
plied him with data esc ugh to complete his
overthrow as a man of nerve and action.—
His boy ish partner came to see him, and
tried to reinspirit him with brave words.—
He was panic-stricken by the fearful aspect
of things, and gave up without a struggle.
On the next day the notes of the firm
went to protest, An assignment followed ;
and, at the settlement of affairs, the credit
ors received a dividend of twenty cents in
Just twenty-three years of age was Har
ry Melville, when he shrunk back from his
advanced position in the business and social
world, a bankrupt, his name a word of re
proach or contempt on hundreds of lips,
and sought a hiding-place with his helpless
wife in the house of his father, whose pre
dictions had been too speedily fulfilled. —
His bark was shattered by the first storm.
Take the lesson to heart, ye too eager
young men. The story is scarcely an ex
aggeration. Old Mr. Mellville was entirely
right in his counsel to his son. A business
commenced at twenty-one, or even as early
as twenty-five, is almost certain to result
in failure. The first thing a young man,
who hopes to succeed in the world, needs
to learn, is economy in his personal expen
ditures. If, as a clerk, he spends his entire
earnings, and trusts to get in business by
virtue of credit, the chancss of failure are
two to one against him. His habits of
mind will tempt him to almost certain de
Passages in the Life of an
Old Georgia Preacher*.
My way being somewhat hedged in, I
concluded to have a monthly appointment
at a country school-house, which was sur
rounded with anti-Missionaries and Univer
salists, who were of course my opponents.
I had, as sympathizers, only one brother
and two sisters. Yet 1 was‘impressed to
preach there —and so I went. The people
came to hear, out of curiosity. Under my
first sermon the most prominent and popu
lar young lady in the whole region was
deeply impressed. The second visit l made,
she was converted while I was engaged in
prayer. Her mother was a Christian, 'but
her father, an influential man, was a violent
opposer and a most profane, wicked mor
tal. Soon after the conversion of this
young lady, as was my custom, I spent a
day in the neighborhood before preaching,
visiting from house to house, exhorting the
people and praying with them, ft was
thought her father would repulse me; but
I was kindly received—prayed with his
family, and urged the claims of religion
upon him personally. Ilis daughter, with
many others, was soon baptized, a church
constituted, the father converted—who,
subsequently, became an eminently useful
man—and the whole settlement revolution
ized. The church is still in existence, a de
voted and pious band. 1 cannot too highly
recommend to young ministers the practice
of family visitation and prayer. It affords
opportunities for doing good, such as can
not be enjoyed otherwise. 1 regret to be
lieve it has g >ne too much into disuse in
Before the Christian Index was removed
to this State, there were very few Baptists
who took any religious paper, or who were
in the habit of reading either religious tracts
or books. To remedy this deficiency as
much as possible, 1 was diligent in gather
ing up all the papers and tracts that 1 could,
and distributing them in the following man
ner : I would make them up into neat and
small packages, as if they were important
documents, and take along a supply, as I
travelled, in my saddle-hags. These packa
ges were dropped so as to attract the atten
tion of travellers, who were sure to pick
them up and apt to read them. Sometimes
in passing a house, they were left at the
gate or thrown over into the yard, and it
was rare that l passed a grog shop without
leaving temperance tracts or papers, where
they might be found by those who frequent
them. The “ seed thus sown beside all wa
ters” produced fruit after a time. It whs
my custom, on election and court days, to
fill a box with such reading, and having la
belled it, “ Take one,” set it in reach of the
crowd, I have often had the satisfaction to
see fifteen or twenty men standing around
my box, reading. And iu this wav I haw
scattered thousands of tracts and religious
papers, by which means ! have known
drunkards reclaimed, and sinners turned
unto the Lord. If, brethren Editors, any
of your readers shall gather a hint from
this, which will promote their diligence in
the Master’s cause, 1 shall have accomplish
ed my object in giving this part of ray his
tory. Service like this may be performed
by hymen as well as ministers—by Chris
tian uwne* as well as Christian men.
At an early period of lifs I became oon
vineed of the danger of using intoxicating
liquors, and adopted the first temperance
pledge I ever saw. Of course I was pre
pared to become an enthusiastic advocate
of the Temperance Reformation, which be
gan to attract public notice between 1825
and 1830. My ardent and impetuous na
ture sometimes carried me to imprudent
lengths iu the advocacy of this good cause.
'My policy was to ask no quarter, and to
give none. 1 could riot have expected any
thing else than the most violent opposition
from those who were not prepared for the
change. My life was frequently threaten
ed, and I have no doubt was frequently in
peril. Once my person was assaulted, and
on different occasions 1 was subjected to
abuse and insults on the highway. Yet
my faith never failed and the Lord deliv
ered me out of the hands of all my ene
mies. I have been a strong advocate of a
Prohibitory Law, (like the Maine Law,)
but have lived to doubt the wisdom of such
a measure. Indeed, I have now but little
confidence in any reformation, which is not
brought about through the agency of the
church. It seems as if in this matter, as
in others, “ God will not give Ilis glory to
another.” “[f the truth ( His truth) shall
make men free” from drunkeuness, “they
shall be free indeed.” And not till then, I
fear, will they be free.
Starting life with a slender education,
and a constitution predisposed to disease,
my prospects were anything else than flat
tering. I have learned by experience, how
ever, that a man may improve the latter
as well as the former. Preachers, or all
public men, are exposed to temptations to
excessive labor—especially to the use of
the voice after it has become husky and
shattered by continuous effort. Against
this practioe I would warn my young breth
ren. It is absolutely suicidal. I came near
losing my life by such imprudences, in one
tour of preaching, some twenty five years
ago. And I then resolved that I would
never again speak with a cracked voice. I
have adhered strictly to that resolution, the
consequence of which is that my general
health has greatly improved, and especially
my lungs. For years I have preached to
large audiences, almost daily, with compar
ative ease, and have already lived many
years longer than 1 had expected. Warn
ed of my end, not far distant, I would say
something that may be profitable to the
living after I shall have been gathered unto
my fathers. Harrison.
The table talk of some eminent persons,
as Coleridge and Rogers, has been consid
ered worthy of being published, and sent
down to posterity. Nor w'as it false judg
merit, that decided to put these unstudied
thoughts in print. Whoever, reads them
will find that they are, in some respects,
more deeply interesting for their extempo
raneous character. Yet such table-talk as
we read in books is far less important to
fam i lies than that w bieh is not recorded on the
printed page. Around every family board
there is heard conversation each day, that
exerts a silent but moulding influence upon
the parent. Dr. Franklin’s father was so
confident of this that be studied to lead the
conversation at the table to subjects of im
portance. Dr. Franklin said of the prac-!
tice of his father: “At his table he liked;
to have, as often as he could, some sensible !
neighbor or friend to converse with, and
always took care to start some ingenious;
or useful topic for discourse, which might
tend to improve the minds of his children.
By this means he turned our attention to]
what was good, just and prudent, in the
conduct of life; and little or no notice was
ever taken of what related to the victuals'
on the table: whether it was well or ill-:
dressed, in or out of season, of good or bad j
flavor, preferable or inferior to this or that;
thihg of the kind; so that I was brought!
up in such a perfect inattention to these!
matters as to be quite indifferent what kind j
of food was set before me. Indeed, I am I
so unobservant of it, that to this day I can;
scarcely tell, a few hours after dinner, of
what dishes it consisted. This has been a
great convenience to me in travelling,
where my companions have been sometimes;
very unhappy for the want of a suitable
gratification of their more delicate, because,
better instructed, tastes and appetites.”
It is worth while, then, to examine this,
subject of table talk as an element of early |
culture at the fireside. Whether parents
allow their children to talk at the table or!
not, it is equally important that the con- j
vernation to which they listen be instruc-:
tive and elevating. They sit at the liable!
not far from an hour each day, which is!
three hundred and sixty-five hours a year,
or thirty days of twelve hours each. One
month every year spent at the table! And
much of this time conversation is carried
on and young ears open to every word !
Is it strange that there is a moulding influ
ence in this way of exchanging thought*?
Four weeks of schooling twelve hours each;
day, or eight weeks of six hours each day,:
is opportunity to make considerable ad-‘
v&ncement. \et parent* are talking more
thoughts into their children, in a given.
time, than a teacher cau. We ask, is it;
strange that character should be moulded
at the table ?
TERMS —Three Dollars a-year.
The Christian's Balance Sheet.
“ For I reckon that the sufferings of the
present time are not worthy to be com
pared y|ith the glory which shall be reveal
ed in us.”—Romans viii: 18.
. How frequently we dwell on present tri
als and sufferings, rather than on “ the glo
ry which shall be revealed in us;” w r e
think more of the “ light affliction which is
but for a moment,” than of the “ eternal
weight of glory,” which is in reserve for
us. Paul was a man who knew how to work
experimentally on suffering and trial; per
haps no one ever endured so great a varie
ty of suffering as he did, and no mortal ev
er had such manifestations of the Divine
glory. I never think on the above text but
1 imagine a sort of spiritual balance-sheet
laid before the tried and afflicted Christians,
drawn up by one who is fully competent,
under Divine influence, to give such a de
tail of losses and gains, and of riches in
actual reversion, as will not fail to cheer
him amidst the trials and vicissitudes of
which he is the subject, if he will but calm
ly, prayerfully, and in faith consider this
statement, relying on the faithfulness of that
God who influenced the apostle to draw it
up for the consolation of the children of
God. Let us now take a glance at the bal
ance-sheet, in the hope that we also may
arrive at the same conclusion as did the
“the sufferings of the present time.”
In labors more abundant.
In stripes above measure.
In prisons more frequent.
In deaths oft.
Forty times received I forty stripes, save
Thrice was 1 beaten with rods.
Once was I stoned.
Thrice I have suffered shipwreck.
A night and day I have been in the deep.
In journeys often.
In perils of robbers.
In perils by my own countrymen.
In perils by the heathen.
In perils in the city.
In perils in the wilderness.
In perils in the sea.
In perils among false brethren.
In weariness and painfulness.
In watchfulness often.
In hunger and thirst.
In fastings often.
In cold and nakedness.
Besides those things which are without,
that which cometh upon me daily, the care
of all the churches.
Total, “ Light afflictions, but
for a moment.”
“ THE GI.OKY TO BE REVEALED IN PS.”
For we know that if our earthly house of
this tabernacle were dissolved, we have
a building of God ; an house not made
with hands, eternal in the heavens.
Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither
hath it entered Into the heart of man, the
things that God hath prepared for them
that love Him.
That He might make known the riches of
His glory on the vessels of mercy which
He hath prepared unto glory.
Henceforth, there is laid up for me a crown
of which the Lord, the
righteous Judge, shall give me at that
day; and not to me only, but unto all
them also that love His appearing.
When Christ, who is our life, shail appear,
then shall wo also appear wth Hirh in
And so shall be ever with the Lord.
Total “An eternal weight
The Apostle Paul having carefully ex
amined the foregoing account, deliberately
makes the following declaration: “I am
persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor
angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor
things present, nor things to come, nor
height, nor depth, nor any other creature,
shall be able to separate us from the love
of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
[ The Christian Helper .
In Season. —My preparations for the
Sabbath have been habitually, almost al
ways, and uniformly made in season, never,
to my recollection, except in two instances,
deferred to the last day of the w eek ; nor
do I know any better way of gaining time,
labor, knowledge am] health than such an
arrangement. \l)r. Spring.
If you have unreservedly given yourself
to Christ, you have no reason to doubt
that Christ gave Himself for you.
Defer not thy charities till death, for cer
tainly, if a man weigh it rightly,, he that
doeth so is rather liberal of another man’s
than his own.
Nothing betrays so much weakness of
understanding, as not to perceive the mise
ry of man without God. Nothing is a su
rer token of extreme baseness of spirit,
than not to wish for'the reality of eternal