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- - - ... jjflMpfr: : ' lewis M^IBT, Prpprietor.} %u j|g5 jamil; jttoisgaptr: jot l|t f rcimfiro flfriMpfeal, Social, ^grfnrteral agb jtotttnM gntmdg if tfrjfa#. - {tomi8?*|8.6o a YEAB, rs AflTASCE. -SSI 16. W 1 US * YOBKVILLE, 8. C., TH^jjSjpAY, STPTTSMIgEIt IP, 187Q. " STO-ST " "'- -iaM* ' - - ? - : ; -"" ' ' -: " - "":"^i -' - - - TT-jt- 11ti;: Ll__* mmmamamemem 11 i ill ' r PiwJibe Daillagtoa 8oaUNsr*er. * imsiiMUfiiem \ . v2-^J3LL ~ I!" 'BY XI88 K. B. CHBESBOBOUUH. >'J$ *? # j & "Do you wish to kill me, Mr. Sinclair? Take your hand from my throat, please." ; 1 Be relaxed his grasp, and she sank with a J smothered sob on- the coach, while she pat her delicate fingtn around her throat, as if to 1 ease the pain of the iron hand that had just 1 left It She grasped nervously the diamond necklace that encircled her throat She } shuddered, for she remembered that it was for 1 such baubles she had sold herself. - } Her husband stood sternly watering her; bow she quailed before the fierce black eye : that seemed devouring her with its angry 'had," she said passionately. * "T? ^ " t- j-j. JJ.it _.r?t L. .. ... i "l naa oeiier oe ue&u; uwm win uo ohotw to me tft&n life?life with all this bitterness, 1 this woe." } "Why did you deceive me ?" he asked stern- 1 ly. "You know my nature; you knew the depths of my love; did you not know that I ' would sooner see you dead at my feet than know you h|d deceived me?" t She made no reply. She knew that she a had deceived the man she had married ; for long before she had ever seen him she had 1 loved, with all the passionate ardor of her nature, one who was now unto her as dead. "You do not answer my question, madam; why have you thus deceived me ? Why did a you marry me when you knew you loved an- b other V' And again the fierce eyes glared angrily on her. ? She said, ohoking down the sobs that were b ready to smother her?"I married you for the * reason that many a woman marries, for a j< support." * v "Thank you, madam; I appreciate the tl compliment in being chosen to clothe, house r< and food vnu. It delightful to have E wife g -rr,-, , j w oa these terms," and the dark eyes of Boswell tl Sinclair glowed with anger. p "Well, madam, I hope that yon have been ^ supported to your satisfaction," continued the a ironical voice, "I believe that yon have had ^ all that any reasonable woman could wish; * you have had plenty to wear, and plenty to 11 eat You were poor when I married you; I ? think you lad but two gowns, you now have * twenty-two, doubtless, and your neck is en- ^ circled by diamonds." e The miserable wife put up her hands and ^ unclasped the diamond necklace, and gently K laid it on her husband's lap. w "That is right, madam; before you go P1 hence, you must strip yourself of your finery a" and your jewels.'' ^She looked up aL him with a wild, startled 84 ?y?'--? ? "You will not drive me from you, Roewell f & "Drite you, certainly not; I shall simply ^ request you to find other quarters." "A woman cannot easily make a home, n Roewell" & "But she can mar one easily," he replied w Of bitterly. WI have no one but you, Roswell," was the m pathetic answer. ' "You have not.me, or rather, you will not 90 have me long; for I have heard this night * that which has set my whole being on fire, 111 and to-morrow we part forever." ** He aroee and hastily paced the room, Then ? seating himself, he said: "Regina, I am not a man of words, but of actions. I am not a meek angel; there are ? some things I never forgive, and the man or P* the woman who deceives me once never has a u chance to do so again. I bury them?bury them in a grave so deep that, so far as I am concerned, they never rise again. I cast them w so far from my sight and my affections so w completely, that, even in memory, they live a no more. I have buried two men and one ai woman in this way ; and you have dug your ^ own grave, and now I am ready to throw you into its depths. To-morrow you leave my hi house forever?forever." si "O, Roewell, have you no pity in your ei nature?" fe "Pity! Was there any pity in your tones Si ? ?t. t vi Wlliguii, wucu x ucoiu jiuu sajr, ivuucn, j. niu always true; you forgot, but I remembered.' w Did I not hear you exact a promise that Ro- tx bert Arlington should keep inviolate the se- 1? cret of his early love for you, for you said ^ your husband was somewhat peculiar, a tl little jealous, and he would not be pleased to m hear that his wife was once the betrothed of hi Robert Arlington. Ah! how you started " when you saw my eyes at the window that I* looked into the balcony, and knew that I was in possession of your carefully guarded secret. 81 I have heard it said that women are natural _ liars, and, by heavens, when I think of the S black falsehood by which you got a husband, R I think the saying must be true." hi Regina grew deadly pale as her husband pi hurled these bitter words at her. Humilia- v< ted and insulted by them, she yet could only b listen in silence. s> "Well, madam, what have you to say ?" d She dashed aside the tears that were blind- p ing her, and said: "I did love Robert Arling- ti ton, but it was before I ever saw you. He e< proved untrue to me and married another, si We never met again until last night" c "I^ad you told me this four years ago, h when I asked you to marry me, you would h not haye been my wife.-. Da you remember that I asked you if you had ever lqved any tl other, when you said yoq loved me ?" ! a "Yes." * ? uTXTYk*r wAti nnf foil mo flio fmfli 9" I f( 'I uj U^U JVU AIVV Wi4 y**v> Vi MV&+ f I T" "It is so hard, Roswell, for a woman to 1 d confess 0iat ghe has ever loved and been de-! tl ceived." I j? "In other words, it is very hard for a wo- h man to tell the truth," he said bitterly." b "Had you no other reason, Regina ?" v "Yes.,r | o "What?" jh "I was an orphan and poor; I knew the i g paths by which women gain a livelihood are I a beset with thorns that wound them at every ! u step. I had not the courage to tread that1 o thqrpy Way i I did as many a woman does, fi married for a support I knew that I did i y not love you, and if I had only have had the noble courage, the self-confidence, that some k women have, I would have gone forth and a taken my stand beside the working sisterhood, j s I di&jKjMrcoiifc Bqf^air Sincto, mazriSgroa I brought you youth and feacfraJfeflk^atytwrfeet forbid. Even tlwOf^ Td¬ loveyou, I was attends to fsar vra&ts, sad you have ever foun<T&e docile and sympathizing." -?* Roswell Sinclair, the^mau who never $rgave, tamed palid at this recital, and his efea flashed indignantly. He was <a*proud mmi and it went through his heart like a sh&pi sword, this candid confession of the womfcn he loved. He sat speechless; there was angfr, resentment, mortification, in his glanoe, hit no pity, no tenderness, no forgiveness. % Regina Sinclair locked. an instant at the hard, resentful face before her, then she arose, ind threw her arms around her husband!*; oeek and said: '* / <;Roswelh do forgive 086." ^ gt He shook her off and said bitterly: j j "There are female Judas's as well as Male, who even now, as they did of yore, k that!*iiWnr you to remain in my house?these old anwstpal halls?that I wifl shower diamonds iwmyou, and, give you velvets to w?ar,anf u return you will give me toleranoe. -But no, [ will tell you no, the same house can hold h> longer the deceiver and the deceived." "Ynn inrn me into the streets. Roswell; I i lave no home but this." "No, no, madam, I am not such a brute as hat; only take your presence from my house, ind I will pay for your lodgement elsewhere." "Forgive me, and let me stay," pleaded legina Sinclair. . , "I never forgive !"*was the stern reply. "Never forgive!" and Regina shuddered. God have mercy on those who never forgive," ,nd turning from her husband, she threw terself on the couch and wept bitterly. The next morning when Roswell Sinclair ought his wife's room, Bhe was gone. She iad taken nothing with her; her rich dresses ?ere all folded up in the large chest; her ;wels were in the ebony and silver casket /here she had kept them ; her desk stood on he rosewood table, and even her work-box emained on the bureau. He sat down and lanced around at the deserted apartment, !iat spoke so eloquently of its departed occuant A cold chill seemed to come over im; he shuddered as he grasped nervously t the arms of the chairs. He looked up at le picture in its glowing colore, which his ife had loved so well?Hagar going forth ito the wilderness. How prophetic it seemi; out into the wilderness, the great black ilderness of the world, had gone Regina. te tried to think that he had acted right, ren while conscience whispered that he had one wrong. He solaced himself with the lea that he had been deceived?grossly ronged?and that he had meted out a fitting uuishraent to the deceiver, and he was ranged. "Vengeance is mine^^nd J[ will repay," iith the Lord; and th? Human hand that rasp of Divinity will find that its blade cuts 3th ways?him at whom it is aimed, and he ho aims it Forgiveness, like charity, cares a double blessing: - he is blessed who forhres, and he is blessed who is forgiven. It as years before the revengeful, haughty ririt of Roswell Sinclair felt this. In the teanwhile, he wrapped himself in the mane of cold reserve, and lived in miserable riitude in his proud ancestral halls. When one memory of the woman he had banished itruded itself upon him, he strove to beat ack the unwelcome visitor by, "she basely sceived me," for he had not yet learned to rgive. Tbus in bitterness of heart, lived Roswell 1 inclair in his gloomy house, asking no symathy and receiving none. A shadow rested pon his home and upon his heart?a great , arkness that could be felt. Dark clouds, too, lowered over his country, , hich at length, assumed the lurid glare of ar. Glad for Anything to break the gloomy ( lonotony of Jig life, Roswell Sinclair was nong the firaNn the field, and among the j rst wounded and taken prisoner. feix years nad elapsed since the night he , id parted iflth Regina. His dark hair was , Ivered with grey, and lines of sorrow were lgraven on his face. As he lay tossing in vered sleep, on his little cot in the hospital, ster Angela, the nurse, was arrested by the < sion. She had not seen him before, as she as at a distant post when the prisoners had jen brought in the night before. She gazed ng and anxiously at the flushed sleeper; . lough sadly changed, she remembered well lat proud, handsome face. What bitter Emories rushed over her as she gazed at ira; one more look, then she turned instinct- ; ely away. But her sympathy soon over;>wered all harsher feelings, and returning, le took her seat on her low chair beside the ifferer. Then the whole past rushed to her mind, f.e remembered how, in her early girlhood, lobert^rlington had won her love. She ad promised to marry him, and after waiting atiently three years, he proved false to his ows, and married another. It was a terrible low?a blow that seemed to crush out all the veetness from her life. Then her parents ied, and she found herself a penniless orhan. Then it was that she met, for the first me, Roswell Sinclair. Her beauty attract3 him, he proposed, and though she almost brank from his fierce love-making, she acepted him, and, in a few months she found erself his wife. He carried her to his proud orae; he surrounded her with almost Orienil splendor; he loved her, but it was with bat jealous, exacting loye that makes a woman lmost as miserable as positive indifference, le was passionate, jealous, exacting and un-j irgiving, and she pined even amid the splen- i ors that surrounded her. She had guarded j be secret of her early love well from the ! ialous gaze of her husband, but, in an uu-; lcky momepfc, he discovered all. She had j een driven from his presence out into the ast, wearyN^wrld, and she carried with her ! nly the bitter memory of his many years of | arshness and cruelty. The large, hot tears j athered slowly in the eyes of Sister Angela, i s she reviewed the bitter past, and ga?ed j pon the sleeping form of the man she had nee called husband. Yet no resentment | illed her heart; she was ready?she even earned to say?"I forgive." The night wore on, and Sister Angela :ept her watch beside the wounded man. An , ,ngel?a pitying angel?watched him as he ' lept, but he knew it not. The long rows of! cots looked ghastly beneath, tfife faint rays of mt?^^? , .sleepers, and. a.balf-smothered; groan,. %nt ;aorae sQfferer as he *jw?ly triedtoeourt sleep. Occasionally, someaoldiec dreaming of home, Wbuki cry out the loved name lof sister or of wife, and laugh happily in his isleep. Once only did Roewell Sinclair wake , during that long night. He asked for water,' Sister Angela handed it to and drank : eagerly, theDy thapoldBg "her, he -went to sleep. ^ oott 'tomt For weeks Sister Angela hoverdd htxmt-the bed of the nek prisoner. sigh of jieoognltion, and she iandedtlkt her black ^braar'had- qaite concealedirtfOdeatity. fie was now'-gettiug well, and wts sorinto be ex* ! ^Wnawl. ^hiw he will ffo. thtfutht Sister Angela/itedwe shall neyerme&ftgain. > ^^p|^^night, the last ni^hfc^Ms stay, m his hawtf he said:" ? "Regina!" 'v ' 1 That oue familiar word swept all'the'hitter past away, and Sister Angela burst into tears of gratitude and joy. "My darling, my darling, am I forgiven ?" said Roswell Sinclair, in low, broken tones, as the hand he held in his grasped him tighter. Sister Angela could only weep and grasp more tightly the hand and sob, "Yes, yes, forgiven." "Even as I forgive, 0, ray wife, my precious wife, how blessed a thing is forgiveness!" And the next day the prisoner went his way. Sister Angela, too, was missing, and when the war was ended, Roswell Sinclair and Sister Angela were found in the old ancestral house together, but the name she then went by was Regina?queen. Divine spirit of forgiveness, if thy white wings could only enfold all of earth's children, what ceaseless melodies would make musical the world. LEE--A SOUTHERN REPRESENTATIVE. At New Orleans, during the celebration of Gen. Lee's funeral rites, Rev. B. M. Palmer, ' D. D., was called on to deliver an address in ' memory of the great deceased. His remarks 1 were almost impromptu, for he was notified < that he was to speak only a few hours before 1 the public meeting. But, notwithstanding ] this short notice, we doubt if any living man * could, or did, utter a nobler or more fitting < tribute to him whom we all delighted to honor ] while living, and whose . memory we now re- I vere as that of the noblest man "who ever 1 lived in the tide of times." Whatever else < we may be robbed of, th? South cannot be de- 1 frauded of the fame of Robert E. Lee, His 1 glory is ours, and no human hand can'snatch ^ B j^nuia. - Th; Jjfoliparjwi imi?tB J tnis idea Jfork after contrasting or rather com- 1 paring Lee foth Washington, he said: i T J. "D_u . P T ?o tko (ma (vna nf 1 X ituccpi XVUUCI t XU. xjvjc ao iuc u uv vj jjv vi the American mai^uid Southern gentleman. 1 A brilliant English writer has well remarked, fi with a touch of philosophy, that when a nation is rushing to destruction, the whole force 8 of that nation will shoot up in one grand character, like the aloe which blooms at the end of a hundred years, then shoots up in one 9ingle sprout of glory and then expires; and wherever civilization has worked revolutions it is possible to place the finger on individual men who are the exponents of the nation's character, after which others, though less noble, perhaps, have nevertheless been fashioned. That gentleness and courtesy, that perfect moderation, that self-command which enabled him to be self-possessed amid the most trying circumstances in his career, clothed him with the stainless attribute of a gentleman; and a character such as that of the purest woman was united in him with that massive strength, endurance and power, which gave to the people whom he led such momentum in the long struggle through which they passed. Born from the general level of Americans, the blood of noble ancestry flowed in his veins, and he was the type of the race from which he sprung. But thus democratic in his birth, such was the gentleness and simple majesty of his character that his only peer in social life, perhaps, can be fouud in the courts, and among those who have been educated amidst the refinements of courts. In that regard there was j something beautiful and appropriate in the j idea that he should become in later life the educator of the young; and, sir, it is a cause j of mourning before Heaven that he was not j ^ spared thirty years to educate a generation for ! the time that is to come for this widowed | South; for, as in the days of the red banner ^ of battle, the South sent her sons to fight un-: der his banner, those sons have been sent again to sit at his feet, when he was a disciple of the Muses and a teacher of philosophy. * Oh ! that with his imperial influence, his more r than regal character, his majestic form, and j all his intellectual and moral attributes, he i ? might fit those that should come in the crisis : of the future, modeled after himself, to take ^ the trusts fallen from his shoulders and bear ^ them to generations unborn. But, sir, General Lee, I accept as the rep-1 resentative of the people, and the temper j with which this whole South entered into the gigantic, heinous and disastrous struggle; closed, but closed as to us in grief. Sir, they ^ wrong us, whomsoever they be that; speak, who j say tliat the South was ever impatient to rup- i ^ ture the bonds of the American Union. The ^ history of 1776, which, sir, is no more, yet, a j i written history than is that of the revolution j. 1001 i.~n_ ti.:. Cn,,?U.n/t ,if U1 JlOUI, Lens US UIUI 1L WUS 1.1113 Ijuuuimuu v>? ours that wrought the revolution of 1776. We ^ are inheritors of all the glory of that immor- < tal struggle; it was purchased with our blood : 1 or the blood of our fathers, which yet flows in j I these veins, and which we desire to transmit 1 pure to the sons that are born of our loins, j 1 All the tradition of the past sixty years was j ' a portion of our inheritance, and it never was ; easy for any great heart or reflecting mind j i even to seem to part with that inheritance ; i and enter upon the perilous undertaking of i establishing a new nation. <1 Mr. President, it was my privilege once to ': be present and listen to a speech by one of the j i noblest sons of South Carolina, whose name 1 < glitters among the galaxy of her great names,, for South Carolina was Virginia's sister, and South Carolina stood by Virginia in the old struggle as Virginia stood by South Carolina I in the new. That ed," said he, "through'the Tower of Ix>pdonfthat great depository- where is gatheredJl that to English hearts is precious^ahd ^wr the guide, in the pride of his English .IkH pointed to the spoils 6f war, gathered thriMjj oenturies, raising myself on tip-toe, I ' axid said - 'You cannot point to one sijSL trophy from my people or my oountry, though 'England had'been engaged in two disastroii it- 1 Sir, this was the Southern heart, thafiofe^ > every inch of American Boil, and every pdW < of tfc'ftt canvas, which, as the emblemofdra authority, floated from Spire ^nd; mast h#l?, and embarked in the revolution with pfcrience of Mm whose prafee on hur'jj^ to-nigw. r Like tU English N?toen, lie hJ^od F the word duty?"fctwvery man do hisduty^- , was his only ensign or nidtto. Tearing h^a- jj self 'away from all the associations of ealy ( life, and abandoning the service in which he ) had gained such honor, he made up his mfod; , to embark in the cause, and with moderation , and firmness expressed his willingness to ljve ( for his native State> and do all and any'duty assigned him, - I accept him in his noble team-. . ing equally as the representative of the Soap, . in his retirement. It cannot escape any spencer, the dignity of that retirement, when W- , neath that apple tree at Appomattox he eur- i rendered his Bword to the general on the Ap- , posite side; then withdrawing from pubnc observation, withholding himself from all cm- j ceivable complications, he devoted himself W p the one great work which he undertook tomscharge. : ? ' / , So, sir, this land of ours obeyed; quiet, j submissive, resigned, yet without resigning , those immortal principles which are the con- | victions of a lifetime, and which lie buried in the recesses of the human heart Sir, all over this land of ours there are men' ^ like Lee?not as great, not as symmetrical in ( the development of character, or as grandin , the proportions which they have reached, but who, like him, are sleeping upon memories that are holy as death, and who, amidst til 1 reproaches, appeal to the future and to the j tribunal of history, when ahe shall render her final judgment of that struggle, aud the~|Q9? * pie who embarked in that struggle. We.we ?rene, resigned, obedient, sleeping upon sol- ! xnn memories; but as said by the poetpreacher in the Good Book: "He sleepeth, ' jut the heart waketh"?waketh as it looks 1 'orth from the watoh tower into the future,! ^ >nly praying now to. the Almighty God that L ;hose who have conquered may at least have Xhe grace to preserve our constitution intact r ind, sir, if it were my privilege to speak to F ltterwith profound emphasis thatJnopeo^r iver traversed the moral ideas which undeKj ie the character of the constitution and laws, j hat did not in the end perish in disaster, ( ihame and dishonor. t I was sitting in my study this afternoon ? itriving to strike some parallel between the. iret "Washington and the second, and I asked f ny own heart the question: "Sitting upon the ^ uin of all your hopes, would you not accept ^ he fame and the glory and the career of Rob- j >rt E. Lee just as soon as the fame and the jlory and the career of the immortal man , vho was his predecessor ?" Sir, there is a pa- ^ hos in fallen fortune, which stirs the sensibil- t ties and touches the very fountain of human ^ eeling; and I am not sure but that at this noment Napoleon, as the strange guest of the g Prussian King, is not grander than.when he j tscended the throne of France. ^ There is a grandeur in misfortune when lorn of a noble heart?a heart that has itrength to endure without bending or break- g ng. Perhaps I slide naturally into this com- ^ jarison, for it is my province to teach that our j learts are made to taste both sweetness and . lUDian woe, and through human woe <fek' ieart becomes purified?and what is true in he individual case is oftentimes intensely true >f a nation collectively. Sir, men that once followed this great chiefain through the war are here to-night, that hey may bend and kneel to the grave of him vhose voice they obeyed amidst the storm of j >attle; the young widow, who but as yester- j lay leaned upon the arm of her soldier hus)and, and now clasps wildly to her breast the rouiig child that never beheld its father's face, ( Iraws hither, that she may shed her young j vidow's tears over this grave to-night; and ;he aged matron who years ago gathered the daits around her shrunken form, and drew ^ he hood over her eyes, remembering her son j ,vho fell at Gettysburg or Fredericksburg, iow to-night joins us, and renews her dirge >ver him who was that son's chieftain and ^ juide, commander and friend ; and the whole ^ rntion has arisen in i|inrif mil ty nf frinf| lering tribute of its love for him. W Sir, there is a unity in the grapes as they jrow in clusters upon the vine; hold a branch ^ n the haud and you speak of it as one ; but . here is another unity of the grapes when hrown into the wine press, and bruised under j he feet of th^se who trample upon them alnost profanely, and their rich forms mingle | md their ripe, red blood flows together in a ( jommunion of wine: and such is the union . 1 uid communion of the hearts that have been iused together by this misfortune, and we come i litre in a true feeling of honest grief and af- i j liction, to render tribute of praise to him j iipou whose face we shall never look again, until that immortal day when we shall behold it transfigured before the throne of God. The Last Pbayer.?Dr. Backus, presi- j lent of Hamilton College, was upon his death- i lied, His physician called upon him, and afLji ter approaching his bedside and examining"! bis symptoms with interest and solemnity, left the room without Bpeaking, but, as he i opened the door to go out was observed to-/j whisper something to the servant in attendance. "What did the physician say to you ?" : said Dr. Backus. "He said, sir, that you i cannot live to exceed half ankbour," "Is it 30 ?" said the great and good man. "Then ' take me out of my bed and place me upon my knees ; let me spend that time in calling on God for the salvation of the world j" His i request was complied with, and his last breath was spent in praying for the salvation of his fellow men. He died upon his knees, and ' "entered Heaven with prayer." Troth the Atlanta Plmtatfon. , SJKAIJj OUR WOMEN DO I i There is no difficulty in finding work for the 1 men. Tb v farm, oar tnineB, the workshops, i the professions, are all before them from which i to ohooee,. Oar women for the most part, are 1 all eager to assist in restoring our lost for- 1 tones. This was. to be expeqted from them. J While we are proud of the gallantry ofgpur 1 men daring our late struggle, we are still Ihore 1 proud of the heroism of our women, both as 1 ta the feet anfonanner of displaying it It i was not the pbrensied rage of a female mob, 1 snob as those which often disgraced Fans during the first revolution. It was- hot the-fa- ] natical courage of ChariyUW Corday. It was not the briHiant, dreamy eloquence of Mad- ] amp Roland. The patriotism of our women i and to cHeer"bybrave words and to inspire to t wewere left penniless, c this hemic disposifioiibfoar womegnw^wipfl 1 its exhibition,'by cheerfully encountering the deprivations oftmr common lot. Tt was then C no disgrace to be poor, but rather a disgrace A> to be rich. And now the same temper of our ti noble Confederate women during the existence u of our Confederacy, shows itself by their ea- f3 ger desire to aid their husbands and fathers c in the sore struggle of life. But how can a they accomplish this noble purpose ? Ad Au- to ring the war, so now, they and we desire that $ the direction of their efforts shall continue'td * be purely feminine. We want no "strong- ? minded women," no female lecturers, no fe- d male voters, no female office-holders. We tl have no wish to see our wives and daughters n unBex themselves. We wish our women to a remain as God made them, gentle, earnest, f modest, loving, at once the light of the dwelling, the solace in misfortune, the incentive in r indolence, the restraint in temptation, the d strength in weakness and the unfailing inspi- f< ration of hope. il There are pursuits in which our women can C angage which are in perfect harmony with d these feminine attributes. Why have we so few Southern female writers ? It is not from e want of mind, or a deficiency in fluency and t alegance of expression, nor is it from want of 1 mental cultivation. There are women now in h Georgia who could make themselves illustri- a jus, if they would give their energies to com- a po8itidB.--Tfee field is araple-^we p lent on the North for text books in our schools: b Why this dependence ? The cruel incidents b our late war?incidents heroic, romanti& ft and tragic, are yet to be portrayed: |? well qualified for this work as our own women who were witnesses of the struggle ? Never was there a wider field in Poetry, Romance, Memorial, History, Education, than now of- 0 Fers at the South. Who among our gifted e 11 . j 6 ,.q tl rauntry-women wiU enter and, ocpupy it ^ . And make us lose the good d That we might often win, .. By fearing to attempt," P [t is needless to speak of the instruction of is shildren. It is a subject of congratulation d .hat Southern children are now taught by g Southern women. p The two departments of authorship and in- tx (traction require a high degree of mental cul- & Aire. There are thousands of moderately ed- p icated women whose attainments do not qual- ii fy them either to write or to teach, but who si mn well fill useful and responsible positions. Why are there so many young men of respect ti oKla A^u/iafinn onrl Ka^IIu afimnrflli Tionrillnr* <fl MUJlv ^uuvawiuu MUU ovivu^vu uwitunug ? ;he yard stick ? It would be more honorable tf jo leave these feminine occupations to those to ir vhom they belong. In other countries clerk- w ihips in a large class of stores are monopolized w >y females. Are our young men less men ei han those of other lauds ? It is an inversion re >f the order of nature to see a stout, healthy p r'oung mau behind a counter selling tape and w icissors to a delicate lady customer. He does d< lot respect his manhood, or he would be fol- re owing or directing the plough, or striking st vith the hammer, or would be engaged in p; feme other manly pursuit Our merchants b ihould take this matter in hand and give oc- w nipation to youug females of merit, worth h md qualification. o] There are many other departments of busi- h less in our towns and cities which are now en- tl grossed by men,which could be well conducted 01 >y women, as telegraphing, type-setting, Ac. lc But it is not the purpose of this article to is Iwell upon these, but rather upon those which "! ire within the reach of the farmers' wives and d laughters. It is within their power to add E nuch not only to the comforts but to the in- tl jorae of the family. b A common error exists in households where e< ihere are mothers and daughters who are anxous to be useful It. is this: Their energies Cl ire too much diffused and mixed up. Each w should have her specialty,;and devote herself w -o that, and as far as practicable, to that tj te,,, V . d yTne dairyps one of the most obvious pur- 8j suits of the country, for the female members j, )f the family. It is exceedingly profitable if ^ veil managed, and exceedingly unprofitable 0 f badly managed. Its success depends much ]{ nore upon the mistress than the master of the C[ household. It is the business of the master to 8j provide good cows and sufficient food for them, and to see that it is fed to them. After u that his responsibility measurably ceases. The ^ mistress must see that the cowsare well milked. e A. good ifcilker is as necessary as a good cow. j, tf the mistress cannot milk she should learn p how. Not that it may be necessary for her to a continue the practice, but that she may know D when she is imposed upon by her milker. We 8j seldom are able to direct others well in any j work which we cannot perform ourselves, A good cow house, with floor, gutter and stancheons, relieves the supervision of milking of p most of its unpleasantness. Where milk can u be sold at six cents per quart the profit is v large. Butter is always saleable at fair prices. 1< Cheese would pay better than either. As y good cheese can be made in Georgia as in New I p York. Why, then, should we not get the prof-! y it on it? A neighborhood could send on for j a a skilled cheese makei^ make it a joint ex-j e pense, instruction to be given in rotation, i a Our quick-witted women would soon be be- s yond the necessity of instruction. n What prevents the profitable rearing of the o silk worm and the sale of cocoons ? There is I nothing unfavorable to the silk worm in our t climate which cannot be overcome with care, v The rearing of silk worms and the raanufac- c ture of silk at home, was undertaken some 1 ' ' rfp fears ago in Georgia. But our former social 1 system was not favorable to undertakings ol t this kind, and the pursuit was abandoned al- I nost entirely. Some domestic silk-was exhib* j ited at the lart JTair at Cartersville. It could 1 iie resumed now under circumstances much setter calculated to insure success* . The man* ifacture of silk at the North has already reached the suin of $10,000,000 annually in ,e iralue. The subject is well worthy the atten- 8 ion of ladies in the country who desire to ' nake an income for themselves or their fami- a ies. 1 It is now settled beyond doubt, that the tea 8 slant will thrive in\a&y part of the State. v rhe experiments which have been made have e irodueed excellent tea from plants raised in *? Georgia. The manipulation is not difficult' F [t is within the power of & delicate female. |> dr. Jones* of the SeidKer* (hdiivator, at Atfi:heaply made. Ample inetructionarsi^^! obtained. A few hundred plants wnnMPde- ? suecaasful, the pwfili' canbot be (n itherwise thantasg* KnibtaoesaAgfrtfte^ osb would be small. Parabta wodA>' 6e wise to encourage? a diapo- * ition in their daughters to help thennelvw c< Kovery proper manner. Southern plarta- a ion life is a very different thing from what it 11 eed to be.. Money among the wealthy canot now always secure female servants in.the out try. This difficulty will probably last for H . generation. When these servants are ob- 00 sined, it is often more vexatious to overlook * hem than it is laborious to do the work oon* 18 elf. Our daughters should be taught taodaat m elf-reliance and familiarity with all domartie ^ uties. If they exhibit a turn for any onoof n he pursuits which have been suggested, the oi ecessary appliances should be furnished lib- te rally to them. Thus will they be prepared w Dr the emergencies of the future. ' d When the fair readers of the Plantation ? ead the question, "What shall onr women ^ o ?" which heads this article, and the impter- a act thoughts which have been suggests by ai t, will tbey ask themselves another question ? * Jan it be said of each of them, "She hath one what she could."^ 1 ' Woman's mission; dways elevated, is now ^ xalted beyond any former period in'our his- * ary. We are re-organizing our social system. *' 'here is danger that the perpetual strain of ?hnr will nrndnm anrdidness and coarseness m r . rp mong the men. It remains for the gentler jx, while they avail themselves of every op- 01 ortnnity of feminine industry, to remind us u' 7 their example that earnest, wearisome la- ? or, is qtifte consistent with the courtesies, ? menities, tad higher pursuits of our exist a6e.~ lC; 'Wl HOWARD. 01 CHOtED DfcAtfl. v ^ All that ffetatwdriok pMeesorerthetop fa f the open windpipe, without a particle ever fa ntering it, although that opening is" hi ban a dime, because the vejj_ gfort of swal- w, *?<ng'i4a>n< oi<5 riife ^ oor, which fits so closely, that not evienfa1 a article of air can pass; but the instant what hi i swallowed has passed over the trap-door ic ownward, it opens up with a spring, and we to o on breathing as if nothing had ever hap- in ened; but if we attempt to swallow anything H >0 large, this trap-door being at the narrow- hi it part of the passage, is kept closed, not a hi article ot air can enter the lungs, ana we die tu i a moment of suffocation, as in drowning or ai nothering. pi If you chew a piece of dried beef for some 81 sra, there will be a white remnant left which th rare is no inclination to swallowif it be m iken and picked apart, it will appear to be ec lade of little strings, tough and strong; these rii ere attached to the more flesh-like parts, cc bich were chewed and swallowed. If, in si< iting, a man has a sharp knife, and cuts his h? leat wholly in two, he may put two or three ic ieces in his mouth, and chew and swallow vt ithout danger; but if the knife is dull and a oes not divide the piece wholly, two pieces pi tay be tied together with one of these little th rings, and while you have swallowed one m art nearest the swallow, the other part may th e near the teeth, and both held by the string, of hich, holding the two parts together, and anging across the trap-door, prevents its th pening, and death follows, ib an instant; 01 ence the practical value of sharp knives at ai le dinner table. A long hair in a mouthful d f food may so entangle it in the act of swal- ot )wing, as to cause a choking to death ; this ci i what is meant by being strangled by a hair, w String beans" may occasion a choking to cc eath in the same way, if not carefully strung, ol [ence, all food should be cut fine; should be fi< loroughly divided with a sharp knife; should it) e taken into the mouth in small pieces, chew- er i thoroughly and swallowed deliberately. 0 vr l j i cc?a ??:j iuusi> iwwcnj iJnvo euuctou wuoiuotauic minvenience from something "going the wrong aythis.is occasioned by a single drop of ater, or atom of solid food, a crumb or other ** ling slipping into the wind pipe, and falling ^ own to the lungs, causing an instantaneous, M piteful, angry, dry cough; it is because na- w ire was alarmed by an unnatural and un- m 'elcome visitor, and takes this, her only means f ejecting the intruder. If the particle is irge or heavy, the surgeon must be called to ut open the wind pipe and remove the subtance, 10 A person cannot laugh or speak a word, niess the top of the wind pipe is uncovered ; 18 ut if a laugh is provoked, or a word attempt* 86 d to be spoken while in the act of swallow- aI ig, and just before the particle has fully ^ assed over the trap-door, it is raised a little, ^ drop or crumb ' j into it, and hence the 48 lischief. Hence in eating, do not attempt to ** nftiilt until the "swallnw" is clear.?HaWs I ournal of Health. 86 w God Bless You.?Who has not felt the hj ower of these words? Who does not treaa- p< re up those hallowed moments of the irre* tl ocable past, when from the lips of some ai aved one fell upon your ears a "God bless b< ou," that found an echo in the truest and fo urest feelings of the heart ? A God bless It ou ! and that will go with us through life, tr nd bring peace and comfort when all things ai lse are shrouded in gloom, and no joy seems tl waiting the heart so long acquainted with ti orrow. Dying lips in feeble accents have p lurmured "God bless you." It greets the ear 01 f infancy, and reclaims the wayward youth. c< t has been heard at the bridal and said at gi he tomb. Loved voices breathed in our ears ic irhen we parted, and the sound still lingers to ai heer our saddened hearts. Oh ! may we tl tear it through life, and when we stand on the h jfink of those waters ->)riiich;I^Jpetween ime and eternity, may the laj&wWb that >roak apoirour listening earsb^Spfer0q^| bless ou whicn comes from tht^Q||^^^^)ne8 eft befc&it - THE Various extravagances break oat st differot epooks. Cheops and; bis friends wasted laves in boijding pyramids; the Romans fasted wild beasts, peaeoeks, nightingales; i a later period, knights and nobles were rated in the xtuad*;; and a lamentable mount of ability and scientific research' itas rated on alchemy and astrqlogy. The preent age is partieolaely remarkable for its waster f gunpowder. A French o^jef/with no sixences to spare, poor Mow, was once asked y some boys to contribute to a squib-fund they ^ere rawing agaiort the^pfffi of Ko^iMber. ^ ingth and breAftb df (he land volunteers tp perfcettiiflly employed not only in blazing way at targets, which stirs emulation and is msequently arausibg, but in burning blank , irtridges, which I should judge to be a most wipidpaatime! But gunpowder expenditure lies at the door rthat most insanely wasteful of human foles, war. Just walk through one of Bellona's luseums: look at that .beautifulsteel gun; hat an exquisitely finished work of art! It i a breech-loader, open at both ends to let us ? the delicate rifling. Does it not seem a lousand pities to soil it with use ? But it i ust be loaded with one. of those neat bags , f powder, which you might take for a ladies ( >ilfet pincushion without its lace cover, and ould certainly be a sort of bonbon for such a j elicate throat?that and one of those bijoux ' fshells, which it really seems a Bin to fireaway. ookat this longitudinal section ofoneofthem, ad just consider the amount of ingenuity nd labor expended on their manufacture, his delicate apparatus is to explode,the shell irectly it touches any object; this is the ursting charge; these layers of polished steel Dminoes which line the interior will become etached and carry death through a considerale space upon the explosion, if any one could ive the heart to explode what ought to renin under a glass case in a drawing room, hen the cost of these pretty toys; the bard tab, as well as the time and trouble spent pon them. A man can live in comfort who ; urns per week what every shell fired by some , 'these guns cost And they fire them as , st as they can: and the majority are wasted j it and out, for they hit no one; and when j ley do?well that is another consideration. , JW'hat a fu?s is made about the new bom- , vain his , 7 Latin master, Greek master, mathematal master, French master, German master, store his mind; and of the constant traing and practice he voluntarily goes through* 'e shows signs of considerable ability, and s relatives go wild with delight, esteeming m a prodigy. Then come anxious consultajns upon the choice of a profession ; and the my is finally selected. His commission is irehased, and a new training is commenced, owly, day by day, he becomes initiated in ie mysteries of drill, and the more difficult atters of regimental discipline and interior onomy. At. last he is dismissed from the ding school. Even then his education is not ?mpleted, for he wishes to rise in his profes3D, and gets tpnl to the staff college. Here i masters the higher branches of mathematr s, reads law, and becomes a proficient in a iriety of arts and sciences. Having passed terrible examination, this highly finished eceof human machinery, which it has taken lirty years, thousands of pounds, and an imense amount of labor to perfect, is sent into >e field and mown down like a thistle by one ' those shells which is not wasted. But man is mortal, and death will blot out e cultivated mind and athletic frame, sooner ' later, under any circumstances. True; ' id it is also true that time will destroy the loicest work of art But we do not set up ir Turners for targets. A delicate piece of ima is certain to be broken eventually; but hat would you say of a boy who made a ickshy of it? Perhaps war may become an jsolete folly befo^c this world rushes into the sry embrace of the sun; but will its inhabints ever cease to waste their time, their talits, their opportunities, their affections ?? nee a Week. POISON AS A REGULAR DIET. It is a common assertion that "the human :J_ i l* i. it: w J xiy can accustom mrai to auyuuug, auu j ioUgh this is an exaggeration, the capacity < ' |jhe physical system to sustain conditions r< hich, it would seem, should destroy it, is a 1 est wonderful fact Opium-eaters common* i ' reach a capacity for assimilating or neualizing the deadly properties of the drug, most inconceivable, when we consider that i uy small proportions of it will destroy life 1 i those not so habituated. Arsenic and bel- i donna are much more commonly used than ] generally supposed; used chiefly by the fair t x, to improve their personal appearance and i iparent health. As to the use of arsenic, < tere abound in some districts of lower Aus- \ ia and Styria, and especially in the moon* f inous regions bordering on Hungary, num- i irs of persons who make a constant practice < ' eating as much arsenic per diem as would 1 rve to kill off a large population of such as 3 ere not regularly educated to the "arsenic < ibit," This habit obtains chiefly among the i &sants of these localities, and is followedfor te purpose of encouraging a healthy appear ice of theskin; arsenic being,as has already , sen shown, a remarkable preservative ef the j rm and color of the tissues, even after death. , is also eaten in those mountainous counies to improve respiration in climbing lofty id nearly inaccessible heights. A morsel of lis poison, dissolved in the mouth, produces ie most surprising results, and enables the , jdestrian to bear exposure and fatigue withit difficulty or danger. These pois^eaten >mmence with something less than half a rain, taken fasting, and gradually increase i dose, eating it daily through a long life, nd inly suffering when, by any accident, ley are compelled to dispense with it. One ale and hearty old man, upward of sixty years of age, Had taken ? doses daily for mcoe tta forty yean. Many, however, die from carelessness, in its use ; and ? it ia found that cessation from the practice produces the symptoms of poisoning by arsenic, and health iv only regained by a return to the habit In Vienna, arsenic is commonly given to. horses to make them fat and sleek. Tn (jonstintinople, and in Peru and Bolivia, corrosive,sublimate is eaten for the same pur- pose. It is a very remarkable foot tK?t nearly - - all poisons have been found to be antidotes to other poisons, and also curatfveagante for diseases which present the. same morbid conditions. Thus, in India, arsenic i* one of the ) spirits of ammonia; it's the same as hartshorn, but if sheasks forlhat they'll giver herfartte " ^ fifteen cents % fewdrope in a smwqt^ttle . : not a* big as her thmqb. While, ahe's I'll tell youhow to use iC -For washing paint, put a table-flpoonfbl in a quart of moderately hot water, dipiaa flannel cloth, and with this simply wipe off the wood-work; no scrubbing j will be necessary. For taking greaso^pots from any fabric, use the ammonia nearly pure, then lay white blotting-paper over the spot and iron it lightly. In washing laces, put about twelve drops in a pint of warm-anda. To clean silver, mix two teaspoonfbhMMfsifemonia in a quart of hot soapamk, pufin your sil ver-ware and wash it, usiBganold nail-brOth or tooth-brush for the purpose. For denning hair-brushes, etc., simply shake the blushes up and down in a mixture of one teaspoonful of ammonia to one pint of hot water; .wh^Q they an cleaned* rinse them in cold water and.stand them in the wiodor inn hot piaee to dry. For washing finger-marks from looking glasses or windowi put a few droprofthe ammonia on amoisfttigaBi!mal^quickwork of it If you wish your houseqdante to flour* * . _ . ! a Mb, putt tew drops ,oftbe spina in evwy pirn of water used is watering. A teaspodnftil in a basin of cold water will add mucb to the refreshing effects of a "bath; nothing better than ammonia-w6ter for elemriiijjg the Hair. In every cas6 nns^ oft'JWfc. : ;-[fTT7T J, JjwQTE~tvwpS? fl&lu monia is used as a. ruing in oabe-malun^etCf, but I cannotrecommend it fop1 thst, purpose; and ten drops in a wine-glass of water itf saad to be an excellent remedy for headache and acidity of stomach, but I' dont* believe hr newspaper doctoring, and so will not chdbsse the remedy. Efowever, for a sttre of! ifiur and square, heeded practical household purposes, spirits of ammonia is invaluable, and I'm not bouse," bottled and labelled' ^ I say emphatically, labelled, because it is a sin notfto have U1 things so conspicuously marked : that no mistakes need occur. Let me add tav ty vay of caution, that ammonia dirtctfylty^Ked snot good for the eyes. & has a Way of T melting them that is anything hut agreriible. Hearth and Hme. " ?? v ''} V ''I') '* i "? ' /' A Word to Fathers?We have/read a itory of a little boy, who when he wanted-a lew suit of*clothes, begged hiauotiiSrto ask lis father if he might have it; Thertfother uiocrAsfpii that the W mitrht oak for himself. 'I would," said the boy, "but I don't feel well mough accquainted with him." Thereis* iharp reproof to the father in the reply, of lis son..! Many a father keeps bis children so it a distance from him,'that they neverfbd ;onfidentially acquainted with him. They Fhey feel no familiarity with him!^T|^y ear and respect him, and eyeniov^ him. some, or children cannot help loving some, everybody about them, but they seldom get: weak ;nough to feel intimate with him.. Thby sellom go to him with thehr little wants and trials. They approach him through the mother, rhey tell her everything. They have a highvay to her heart on which they go in and, oat with perfect freedom. In this keeping-off plan, others are to blame. Children shouldnotbe leld off. Let them be as intimate with'the ather as mother. Let their little hearts be Veely opened. It is wicked to freeze op tbe ove-fountains of the little one'shearts. ; Fathers do them an injury by. living with them as itrangers. This drives many a child, from lome for the sympathy hiaheart crswes, and >ften into improper society. It names tabooon t and distrust,Sriiich mawy a child does not jut-grow in his lifetime. O^en jbtfr hearts ind your arms, oh, fathers; be free with your children; ask for their wants and trials J play with them; be fathers to them truly, awhthen - they will not need a mediator between themselves and you. ????- i i -hU Our Mother.?Round the idea of one's nnfliin. tlio mind rtf man Mhim with fnnd ?f. lUVIMIVi WIIV U4AUW V* ?????? V '? *V??? W* fection. It is the first deep thought stamped jpon our infant hearts when yet soft and capable of receiving the most profound impressions, and the after feelings of the world are more or less light in comparison. Even in )ur old age we look back to that feeling as the sweetest we have through life. Our passions and our willfulness may lead \ls far from the object of our filial love; we learn even to pain her heart, to oppose her wishes, to violate her commands; we may become wild, headstrong and angry at her counsels or opposition; but when death' has stilled her monitory voice, and nothing but still memory remains to recapitulate her Virtues and good deeds, affection, like a flower hleatep to the ground by a past storm*,raises bp her head and smiles among her tears. Bound that idea, as we have said, the mind, elings with fond affection; and even when the early period of our loss forces memory to be idlent, fancy tales the place of remembrance, and twines the image of our dead; parent with a garland of graces, and beauties and virtues, which we doubt not she possessed. nTTr,'. . 19" The greatest man is he who troubles himself least about the verdict that may be ^ passed upon bim by contemporaries or peaterity, but who finds in doing good, honest . work, to the best of his ability under existing conditions, "its own exceeding great reward." . * > : .