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f fltfrj. OVER THE WAY. GoTie in her chi!d-like purity Out from the golden day; Fading away in the light so sweet, 'Where the silver stars and the sunbeams meet, Over the silent way. Over the bosom tenderly The pearl-white hands are pressed ; The lashes lieoji her cheeks so thin— Where the softest blush of the rose hath been— Shutting the blue of her eyes within, The pure lids closed to rest. Over the sweet brow lovingly Twineth her sunny hair ; She was so fragile that Love sent down, From his heavenly gems, thatsof,, brightcrown, To shade her brow with its waves so brown, Light as the dimpling air. Gone to sleep with the tender smile Froze on her silent lips By the farewell kiss of her dewy breath, Cold in the clasp of the angel Death, Like the last fair bud of a faded wreath, ■Whose bloom the white frost nips. in your downy bed Over the swinging bough— Do you miss her voice from your glad duet, When the dew in the heart of the rose is set, Till its velvet lips with the essence wet, In orient crimson glow ? Rosebud—under your shady leaf Hid from the sunny day— Do you miss the glance of the eye so bright, Whose blue was heaven to your timid sight? sis beaming now in a world of light, Over the starry way. Hearts—where the darling’s head hath lain, Held by love’s shining ray — Do you know that the touch ot her gentle hand Doth brighten the harp in the unknown land ? Oh, she wats for us with the angel band t Over the starry way ! Jfamilg THE FALSE CHRIST. A TALE OF THE SECOND FALL OF J^USALEM. CHAPTER V. IBr Lucia had awaked to the love of God pa, world that had not laid aside the outer forms of its enmity against Him ; necessarily the change was, in her own little circle, a very you,” said Martia to her husband, “against that Corinthian.” “You understood your sex better than 1 did my love, undoubtedly. But now what can we do? Lucia is so frank and earnest we can never conceal this plague-spot in our house.’’ * . ~ “I would banish every Christian in the empire amongst the remotest barbarians.” ‘‘But that being only a pious wish, what can we do in the mean time ? We cannot banish Lucia.” Martia looked as if the thought were sac rilG^c. “You are against that, I suppose. Then shall we all follow her example? I hate divisions in a family, especially religious differences.” “The arena and the cross are no comedies, Nicias.” “We Greeks never thought so, my friend; but your imperial populace seems to enjoy them. , ii . nj) “Are you. incapable of a serious thought. “There is the misfortune, Martia; we can never understand each other. lam perfectly serious. I mean quite honestly, that were the emperor more favorable and the populace less insane, there is no religion I should prefer to the Christian; with one or two exceptions, it seeems to be most sensi ble • a few peculiarities, of course, there are _L a few provincialisms ; but once intro duced among the higher classes, lam per suaded these eccentricities would soon be come quite mild and respectable. You would banish the Christians—l would make Senators and praetorians of them, and be come one myself.” “But now, Nicias?” “Now it is quite a different case Ido not think it at all' discreet and sensible to run such unpleasant risks as you have men tioned ; and am much perplexed that Lu cia does not take the same view. If I had my way, without any unkind intentions, I would make Irene safe in the Mamertme prison, and leave Lucia to her own good sense, —strictly prohibiting, of course, any outward demoustratious.” “Now you talk like a wise man. Coun- 1 sel Cyril.” “I have done so; but Cyril is beyond my control. He says Lucia’s faith has ta ken such root in her heart, that it is be yond our reach —that we might break her heart, but not uproot her religion.’’ “I know it, I believe it. It must be magic, this terrible power. Shall we try counter incantations ? I know an old wo- “And I know many, my love; but I de. cline any such mediation with the immor “Misfortune has fallen upon our house,” said Martia bitterly. “May it recoil on the head of the adder which has stung our dar lj nfT 1 The Fates must advance, let us meet them and perish.” And pressing her hands a moment on her heart, she rose and went calmly about her daily duties, no better hope than ,this in all her heavens, no heart to which fihe could pour out her sorrows. The mother looked up and around in her agonizing apprehensions; and her eye met nothing but Nature, with its infantine glad ness and inhuman desolations, its calm ro tations, its fietce convulsions, its whirlwinds and ite flowers. Before her troubled gaze the dancing hours and the seasons poured forth their garlands and their sunshine ;—- yet surely not for her, for her sorrow cast not a shade on the rosy, joyous, unfading forms. On her anxious ear came the groans of shipwrecked men, and the shrieks of travellers buried' in the sand-wastes, aqd the wailing of sacked .cities. “What heart in heaven could her feeble cries touch ?” Nature rejoiced, men struggled and per ished, the good suffered, the wicked tri umphed. the Olympians feasted, and over all lay the shadow of a gigantic, shapeless Des tiny, crushing generation after generation. The chariot of Destiny had no charioteer, the horses had no rider, the ship was pilot less ; —the machine of the universe was, af ter all, mightier than its Maker; and the ultimate appeal of gods and men lay to a brute, pitiless, irresistible force. Wiser and stronger hearts than Martia’s had dis covered the bitter secret before; and with the thought that not a barrier remained be tween her only child and the death of a criminal, she set about her daily occupations. What wonder that her very tenderness made her stern —that her tears, frozen in that icy air, were pent back, and formed ice around her heart! Indolence would have made Nicias per secute, and tenderness Martia. In thinking of the sufferings of the early Christians, we have to remember that the persecutors were not all Neros. Order, national unity, do mestic attachments, patriotism, the noblest and the tenderest feelings of our nature, must often have been arrayed against them —so many of the worst crimes are perpe trated blindfold. What need, then, of watchfulness against the first film which passion and prejudice weave over the mind ! Meantime, therefore, Lucia was permit ted to receive instruction among the cate chumens, preparatory to baptism, and by this means she became acquainted with many of the Christians in the city. At first her reception was cordial, as of a noble child given to the household of faith ; but occasionally she heard discussions, and re ceived advice which perplexed her. Some philosophising interpretations brought oc casional trouble to the good bishop; but for the most part, the differences in that Christ ian synagogue had another source. Once/ an Ebionjje arose among them, and denied ’ the of the incarnation—de claring that the appearing of thfe Christ was /v#ien the voice from heaven psoclaimed and Ahe Spirit descended on 'Him al His bap- PBm. But the few who followed him s<jon separated themselves, and ultimately joined the false Messiah. But the tendencies which such develop ments proved existed in various forms amongst them : —Mysticism, pronouncing many things common and unclean which God had sanctified; Pharisaism, making of God’s special gifts barriers between man and man, instead of channels of blessings. One matron wondered at Lucia’s ornaments and graceful Grecian dress ; another gave her exhortations about the orthodox way of preparing her food ; a third thought her deficient in zeal for the conversion of her husband ; and altogether they instilled so many small scruples into her mind, that the freshness of her Christian life was in danger of being checked in its infancy,—until she obtained .possession of a copy of the Epistle to the Romans and occupied herself in copy ing it. There was one person in the church of whom she had no fear—the earnest old man, with a grave serenity of countenance, who was at the head of it. They seemed to understand each other; he perplexed her with few rules, and she felt confident as a child in coming to him with all her per plexities One morning she came to him with a face so joyous, that he asked her what glad tidings she had received. “Only the old gospel, father,” she said. “I shall not need to trouble you with any more perplexities ; I have found two rules which will fit everything.” “What golden rules are they, my daugh ter ?” “St. Paul says,” she replied, “that we are to put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and that love is the fulfilling of the law.” “And how will you fit these to every thing ?” he asked. “Every day,” she said, looking up to him with her child-like gaze, “1 will ask God to clothe my soul with Him, and I am sure ev erything wron" will fall off in that presence; and everytime lam in perplexity, I will ask Him to fill my soul with love ; and, fa ther, shall I not be sure to see ?” “ ‘lf thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light,’” said the bishop; but he seemed to be exhorting himself as much as Lucia. One evening, as Cyril was deep in the study of some old Greek manuscripts, Lucia came up to him, and with a face radiant with the pleasure she meant to give, and the good she hoped to do, presented him with a great roll, containing the epistles of St. Paul, and the Gospel of St. John. “Will you read them for my sake, Cyril ?” He looked affectionately at her, and care lessly at the manuscript. “1 have read it already, wife.” Her face was shadowed. “But you will read it again, and think if it is not the very truth.” He promised, in the tone of concession to a petted child, but he read the volume. Lucia watched discreetly a long time before she ventured on an inquiry on the subject, always hoping that he would commence. But he said nothing. “Have you read the book ?” she asked, at length. “I have.’’ “And you are convinced ?” * “I think Paul of Tarsus was a man of wonderful genius and noble character,” “But the doctrine ?” “I think it the most perfect philosophy which can be veiled in a historical form.’’ Lucia looked sorely perplexed; she had hunted through Jerusalem to find the vol ume, and sold all her jewels to buy it. She had prayed night and day that the blessed SOUTHERN CHRISTIAN ADVOCATE. truths might reach his heart, and this was the result—he called it a good kind of philosophy. “Oh, Cyril,” she said, with much vexa tion, “it is no philosophy, it is the truth.” He smiled, she was so illogical. “Lut if it is good, Cyril, why not receive it?” “To believe a religion the best possible for the common people is one thing—to call clowns, mechanics, and slaves my brothers and sisters, is another,” he said proudly. “Leave controversy to the rabbis and soph ists, wife,’’ he continued, “it is too hard for your delicate fingers.” “Cyril, I am no child,” she said in rather an injured tone. “Certainly not, you are the best little wife man ever had; the only fault I find in your religion is, that it will not let people alone. What you began to believe yester day, you cannot rest if all the world do not believe to-day.” She smiled through her tears, and said to herself—“lt is true; I will have patience.” Then sitting down beside him with her child playing at her feet, she watched him in silence. At first, bitter thoughts were in her mind, she had hoped so much. Then, as she gazed on his thoughtful face, bent in absorbing study, she mused— “ How could I think I could lead him— he so wise, I such a child ! Yes, 0 God ! a child indeed; but oh ! make him as one of these little ones, that he may learn of Thee;’» and taking her child in her arms, she felt that she also was cared for, and carried as a lamb in His bosom. Cjjilknr. THE UNSEEN WITNESS. There is a little machine, made something like a clock, which can be fastened on a car riage, and in some way connected with the motion of the wheels. It is so arranged that »it marks off correctly the number of miles that the carriage runs. A stable-keeper •once had one upon a carriage that he kept for letting, and by this means he could tell just how many miles any one went who hired it of him. N once hired it to go to a town some ten miles distant. Instead of simply going and returning, as they promised to do, they rode to another town some five miles farther, thus making the distance they passed over, going and coming, some thirty miles. When they returned, the owner of the establishment, without being noticed by the young men, glanced upon the face of the measuring instrument, and discovered how many miles they had traveled. “Where have you been ?” he then asked them. “Where we said we were going,” was the answer. “Have you not been farther than that ?” “0, no,” they answered. “How many miles have you been in all ?” “Twenty.” He touched the spring, the cover opened, and there, on the face of the instrument, the thirty miles were found recorded. The young men were astonished at this unerring testimony of an unseen witness that they had carried with them all the way.^, Thus has God placed a recording witness in our hearts. Wherever we go, we carry it with us. He keeps it wound up and in or der. Without our thinking of it, it re cords all our acts, all our words, and all our thoughts. We sometimes seek to deceive our friends, but the truth is recorded in our hearts. By and by God will touch the spring, and all that is written there will then be seen.— Many things that we do we should not, if we knew the eye of another person were looking upon us. We always the carry wit ness with us. A little boy was urged by an older person to do an act that was wrong. He was told that no one would know of it. “Yes, some body will,” said the little fellow, “myself will know it.” We cannot dismiss the witness. God has fastened it to our minds. It is our con science, and whatever our lips may deny, it will always tell the truth. It we should at tempt, in the great day when God judges the world, to deny our actions, there upon our hearts they will appear, written down, when we do . not know it, by the unseen witness that God has made to accompany us every step in our life. Think daily, little readers, of that instru ment which we carry 'with us, out of sight, on which is written everything we do and say. Think how you will feel when God opens it, that its records may be seen by all the world. - ——- Lizzie Idler and Jennie Sprightly. A lazy girl was Lizzie Idler. She would lie in bed every morning, after being called several times, until her mother would go to her room and almost force her out of bed. Breakfast was always ready before she could be got down stairs to the breakfast room; — and when she did make her appearance, her hair was not combed, nor her clothes put on tidy. And we fear she often forgot, in her hurry not to miss her breakfast, to say her prayers. She was always hurried; soon as breakfast and worship were over, she had to hurry to get ready for school, ftliere she very often arrived after it had been opened. Her lessons were not well prepared; for the hours she should have devoted to study were spent in idling about, or wasted in the plea sant morning hours by lying in bed. But Jennie Sprightly, though a very little girl, was up with the lark, and after thank ing God for his watchful care over her du ring the night, and asking his guidance du ring the day, and washing her face and combing her hair, was out in Hie fresh air of heaven, bringing the roses to her cheeks, as bright as those she gathered in the gar den, and health in every pulsation. She saw the glorious suu rise beyond the distant hill-tops, and heard the sweet songs of the robin and blackbird as they chanted their morning lay. Out in the garden she gath ered a bouquet of flowers to carry to her kind mother, who* made so many nice things for her little girl. She thus showed that she had a heart to appreciate all her moth er’s kindness to her. She never sat down to a hurried breakfast, and was never late at the school-room. Her lessons were always well prepared, and she had plenty of time to play. This was because she never idled away the best hours of the morning in bed, or of the day in foolish acts and conversa tion. We love those Jennie Sprightlies; for they are always cheerful and happy, and no frowns or looks of discontent mar their pleasant faces. They are ever obedient to their parents, and hasten to do as they are bidden without a murmur, and cheerfully. They bring sunshine wherever they come, and are welcomed by all. Is this the case with you, dear reader ? Are you a little Jennie Sprightly? GOING HOME. Suffjr little children to come unto me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of Heaven ” They are going—only going— Jesus called them long ago ; All the wintry time they’re passing Softly as the falling snow. When the violets in the spring time Catch the azure of the sky, They are carried out to slumber Sweetly where the violets lie. They are going—only going— When with summer earth is dressed, In their cold hands holding roses, Folded to each silent breast; When the autumn hangs red .banners Out above the harvest sheaves, They are going—ever going— Thick and fast like falling leaves. All along the mighty ages, All adown the solemn time, They have taken up their homeward March to that eerener clime, Where the watching, waiting angels Lead them from the shadow dim, To the brightness of His presence, Who has called them unto Him. They are going—only going— Out of pain and into bliss— Out of sad and sinful weakness Into perfect holiness. Snowy brows—no care shall shade them; Bright eyes—tears shall never dim ; Rosy lips—no t me shall fade them; Jems called them unto Him Little hearts forever stainless— Little hands as pure as they— Little feet by angels guided Never a forbidden way. They are going—ever going— Leaving many a lonely spot; But ’tis Jesus who has called them— Suffer, and forbid them not. Tiie Blind Girl’s Gift. —A blind girl came to her pastor, and gave him twen ty-seven francs for missions. Twenty-seven francs is five dollars and forty cents. The minister was surprised to see so large a sum. “You are poor and blind, my girl,” he said; “you surely cannot spare so much for missions.” “Yes,” said the girl, “I am blind, but not so poor, perhaps, as you may think. I can spare this money better than those who can see.” “How is that ?” asked the minister. “I am a basket maker,” answered the girl, “but, as I am blind, I make my baskets just as easy in the dark as with a light, while the other girls have to spend more than that money for light. Having no such expenses, I bring this money for the poor heathen and missionaries.” Velvet Tongues.—When I was a boy, I and a number of my playmates had ram bled through the woods and fields till, quite forgetful of the fading light, we found our selves far from home. Indeed we had lost our way. It did so happen we were nearer home than we thought; but how to get to it was tle question. By the edge of the field we saw a man coming along, and ran to ask him to tell us. Whether he was in trouble or not I do not know, but he gave us some very surly answer. Just then there came along another man, a near neighbor, and with a merry smile on his face. “Jim,” said he, “a man’s tongue is like a cat’s; it is either a piece of velvet or a piece of sand paper, just as he likes ti use it and to make it; and I declare you always seem to use your tongue for sand-paper. Try the vel vet, man, try the velvet principle.” —Blind Amos. Make a Beginning.—Remember, in all things, that if you do not begin you will never come to an end. The first weed pull ed up in the garden, the first seed in the ground, the first shilling put in the saving’s bank, the first mile traveled ou a journey, are all important things; then make a be ginning, and thereby a hope, a promise, a pledge, an assurance that you are in earnest with what you have undertaken. How many a poor, idle, erring, hesitating outcast is now creeping and crawling through the world, who might have held up his head and pros pered, ifj instead of putting off his resolu tions of industry and amendment, he had only made a beginning ! Minutes of Georgia Conference THE MINUTES OF LAST GEOR jsria Conference are now ready for distribution— will be sent to preachers—at the rate of sls per hundred—and for single copies, 20 cents. They will be sent by mail to any point where the mails are open —postage pre-paid, at the rate of 2 cents per copy- Only a limited number have been printed, ana those who wish them would do well to order them sodln. Address J. W. BURKE t CO. January 5,1800. —6w. ©bilaarj. Mas. Frances Bonner died in Baldwin r I' on January 1866, in the 76th year of her age. J Her illness was brief, suffering for a few days only, from pneumonia ; but sixty years of de votion and fervent piety, found her ready and willing to be offered up. Truly she had fought a good fight, and when informed that her earthly pilgrimage was about to close, she replied, that she knew in whom she had trusted, sent messages to her absent children and rel atives to meet her in the heavenly land. Her faith rose as her time for departure drew near, and she exclaimed as the world was receding, “I shall soon have a part in that building— that house not made with hands.” No children ever had a more devoted mother, no people a kind er neighbor. She loved the house of God and its ordinances, and never was absent from her place in church unless providentially prevent ed. The most striking trait in her Christian character was an implicit confidence and trii&t : ./ ful reliance in the promises of God. She had that charity that hopeth all things, belleveth all things. No object of want ever appealed to her in vain. Selfishness found fio place in her heart, as all can testify who knew her in life. We hope to meet you dear, good mother “Where no farewell tear is shed.” R. W. S BURKE & CO’S FARMER’S ALMANAC FOR 1866 THE UNDERSIGNED HAVE JUST Published THE FARMER’S ALMANAC, fer 1866 Price *3 per gross For 10 gross or more, $2.50 per gross. Dealers ordering 25 gross or more, can have their imprint and advertisement inserted without ex tra charge. . , Send in your orders at once to J. W. BURKE k CO., Second Street, next to Baptist Church,- Macon, Ga. Steam Engines for Sale. Two excellent Steam Engines—one of Four Ilorse and one of Six Horse Power. They wiil be sold very low for cash. Apply to Dec. 23—ts. J. W. BURKE Sc Co s SERIES. School Books! School Books!! JUST RECEIVED AND FOR SALE, wholesale and retail: NATIONAL PRIMER; “ FIRST READER; “ SECOND READER; “ TIIIR READER; “ FOURTH READER; “ FIFTH READER; Monteith’s FIRST LESSON IN GEOGRAPHY « “ INTROUCTORY to GEOGRAPHY; “ MANUAL OF GEOGRAPHY; Clarks FIRST LESSON IN ENGLISH GRAM MAR; Clark’s PRACTICAL GRAMMAR; Monteith’s HISTORY OF UNITED STATES; and many other good Books. janl6 j, W. BURKE & CO. NEW music. Wearing of the Grey, - - 85 cents t lam dying, Egypt, dying, - 30 cents! Those Dark Eyes, 30 cents. Take Me Home, 30 cents. My Southern Sunny Home, - 35 cents. Music sent by mail, free of postage, upon receipt of the marked price. F Send for our complete Catalogue. t , ... A. E. BLACKMAR, Jan. s— 6t ( New Orleans, La. THE # SOUTHERN CHRISTIAN ADVOCATE! ise © . This old and well estab lished religious family weekly, in entering upoa its TWENTY-NINTH VOLUME, has taken anew form to adapt itself more fully to the wants and interests of the present times. It is issued AS AS EIGHT PAGE QUARTO, Devoted, partly, as heretofore, to Religion and the Church; and partly to Literature, Science, Art, the News, the Markets, Advertisements, etc., etc, etc. In this form, it is proposed to make it equal to any Family Newspaper in the country—being all that a family that takes but one Newspaper can need; and also worthy of a place with other Newspapers, where several are taken. Besides, it is offered as the CHEAPEST PAPER THE SOUTH. The price being only THREE DOLLARS A YEAR, IX ADVAXCK. It may justly \’claim to be THE POOR MAM’S PAPER. And as such It hopes that a generous public will give it a liberdt patronage. It is only by such a patronage, that it can be sustained at this price. Any person sending in subscribers to the amount of S3O 00, will be entitled to a copy, free for one year* Address E. H. MYERS. D. D. Editor, Or J. W. BURKE, k CO, Publishers, Macon, Ga. RATES OF ADVERTISING. V For a square of twelve lines or less, One insertion SI.OO Two insertions, j 75 Three insertions, " 260 Four insertions, ’ 3 35 Five insertions, j 40Q Two montns 6 00 Three months, (13 weeks) 9 00 At the same rates for any number of squares and for any length of time. ’ Professional Cards of six lines $lO for six months Advertisements inserted at intervals to be charged as new advertisements. * Advertisements ordered to be published on any par ticular page, to be charged as new, each insertion. 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