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THE LEDGER: GAFFNEY, S. C., OBTORER 8,^1896 ! IS UNIQUE SE11M0N. REV. DR. TALMAGE PREACHES ON DIVINE CHIROGRAPHY. Cliaractor In IlaiulivrltJug—A Lfttor From Home—Nauu-H Waltten In tlio IJook o! Etrrnal Lift 1 —Ink A^inlo From the Cal vary Sarrlfloo. Washington, Oct. 4.—Wo send out this, ono of tho most unique sermons Dr. Tnlmago ever preached. It is as novel as wide sweeping and practical. His subject is “Divine Chirograpliy,’’ the text being Luke x, 20, “ Rejoice because your names are written in heaven. ’ ’ Chirogranhy, or the art of handwrit ing, like tho science of acoustics, is in very unsatisfactory state. While con structing a church, and told by some architects that tho voice would not bo heard in a building shaped like that proposed, I came in much anxiety to this city and consulted with Professor Joseph Henry of the Smithsonian insti tution about tho law of acoustics. Ho said: “Go ahead and build your church in tho shape proposed, and I think it will be all right I have studied tho laws of sound perhaps more than any man of my time, and I have come so far as this: Two auditoriums may seem to be exactly alike and in one the acoustics may be good and in the other bad.” In tho same unsatisfactory stage is chirograpliy, although many declare they have reduced it to a science. There are those who say they can read charac ter by handwriting. It is said that the way ono writes the letter “1” decides hie egotism or modesty, and the way one writes the letter “O” decides the height and depth of his emotions. It is declared a cramped hand means a cramped nature, and an easy, flowing hand a facile and liberal spirit. But if there bo anything in this science, there must bo some rules not yet announced, for some of the boldest and most ag gressive men have a delicate and small penmanship, while some of tho most timid sign their names with the height and width and scope of tho name of John Hancock on tho immortal docu ment. Some of tho cleanest in person and thought present their blotted and spattered page, and some of the rough est put before us an immaculate chirog- raphy. Not our character, but the copy plate set before us in our schoolboy day decides the general stylo of our hand writing. fc*o also there is a fashion in penmanship, and for ono decade the let ters are exaggerated and in the next minified, now erect and now aslant, now heavy and now fine. An autograph album is always a surprise, and you find tlu> penmanship contradicts tho character of the writers. But while tho chirograpliy of tho earth is uncertain, our blessed Lord in our text presents tno chirograpliy celestial. When ad dressing the 70 disciples standing before pi, ho said, “Rejoice because your vs arc written in heaven.” Tho Book of Life. Of course tho Bible, for tho most part, when speaking of the heavenly world, speaks figuratively while talk ing about book, and about trumpets, and about wings, and about gates, and about golden pavements, and about orchards with 12 crops of fruit—one crop each month—and about tho white horses of heaven's cavalry. But wo do well to follow out these inspired meta phors and reap from them courage and sublime expectation and consolation and victory. Wo are told that in the heaven ly library there is a book of life. Per haps there are many volumes in it. When wo say a book, wo mean all writ ten by tho author on that subject. I cannot tell how large those heavenly volumes are, nor the splendor of their binding, nor tho numb ~ of their pages, nor whether they are pictorializcd with some exciting scenes of this world. I only know that tho words have not been impressed by typo, but written out by some hand, and that all those who, like tho 70 disciples to whom tho text was spoken, repent and trust tho Lord for tneir eternal salvation surely have their names written in heaven. It may not bo the same name that wo carried on earth. Wo may, through tho iucon- siderateness of parents, have a name that is uncouth, or that was afterward dishonored by one after whom wo were called. I do not know that tho 70 en trances of the names of tho 70 disciples eprespond with tho record in the genea- i logical table. It may not be the numo Iby which wo were called on earth, but [it will bo tho name by which heaven fill know us, and we will have it an- lonnced b us as wo pass in, and wo rill know it ro certainly that wo will not have to be called twico by it, as in the Bible times tho Lord called some people twico byname: “Saul, Haull” “Samuel, Samuel!” “Martha, Martha!” When you come up and look for your name in the mighty tomes of eternity and yon are so happy as to find it there, you will notice that the penmanship is Christ’s, and that the letters were writ ten with a trembling hand—not trem bling with old age, for ho had only passed three decades when ho expired. It was soon after the thirtieth anniver sary of his birthday. Look over all the business accounts you kept or tho letters you wrote at 20 years of age, and if you were ordinarily strong and well then there was no tremor in tho chirograpliy. Why the tremor in the hand that wrote your name in heaven? Oh, it was a compression of more troubles than ever smote any one else, and all of them troubles assumed for others. Christ was prematurely old. Ho had been exposed to all the weathers of Palestine. Ho had slept out of doors—now in tho night dew, and now in the tempest. Ho hud boon soaked in the surf of Lake Galileo. Pil lows for others, but ho bud not v hero to lay his head. Hungry, ho could not even get a fig on which to breakfast—or have you missed the pathos of that ►erse, “In the morning, us ho returned tho oity, he hungered, and when a fig tree in the way he ONM to found nothing thereon?” Oh, ho was a hungry Christ, And nothing makes the hand tremble worse than hunger, for it pulls upon tho stomach, and the stomach pulls upon the brain, and the brain pulls up- a the nerves, and tho agitated nerves make the hand quake. On the top of all thi; (xasjierationcame abuse. What m>!u r n an ever wanted to ! be called a drunk; .'>* But C ki'ist was j called ono. What n pc cter of the Lord’s i day wants to be calh da 1*. ! bath breaker? But he was called one. What man care ful of tho company he kcep.i wants to bo called tho associate of profligates? But ho was so called. What loyal man wants to he charged with treason? But ho was charged with it. What man of devout speech wants to he called a blas phemer? But hr was co termed What man of self respect wants to be struck in the month? But that is where they struck him. Or to be the victim of the vilest expectoration? But under that ho stooped. Oh, he was a worn out Christ! That is the reason ho died so soon upon the cross. Many victims of crucifixion lived daj T after day upon the cross, but Christ was in tho courtroom at 12 o’clock of noon, and he had expired at 2 o’clock in the afternoon of the same day. Subtracting from the three hours between 12 and 8 o’clock the time taken to travel from the courtroom to the place cf execution and tho time that must have been taken in getting ready for the tragedy, there could not have been much more than two hours left. Why did Christ live only two hours upon the cross, when others had lived 18 hours? Ah, he was worn out before he got there! And you wonder, oh, child of God, that, looking into tho volumes of heaven for your name, you find it was written with a trembling penmanship—trembling witJi every letter of your name, if it bo yemr earthly name, or trembling with every letter of your heavenly name, if that be different and more euphonious. That will not bo tho first time you saw tho mark of a quivering pen, for did you not, oh, man, years ago see your name so written on the back of a letter, and you opened it, saying, “Why, here is a letter from mother,” or “Here is a let ter from father,” and after you opened it you found all the words because of old ago were traced irregularly and un certain, so that you could hardly read it at all? But after much study you made it out—a letter from homo tell ing you how much they missed you, and how much they prayed for you, and how much they wanted to see you, and if it might not bo on earth that so it might bo in tho world where there are no part ings. Yes, your name is written in heaven, if written at all, with trem bling chirograpliy. feonio Autographs. Again, in examination of your mure in the heavenly archives, if you find it there at all, yon will find it written with a bold hand. You have seen many a signature that because of sickness or old age had a tremor in it, yet it was as bold as the man who wrote it. Many an order written on tho battlefield and amid the thunder of tho cannonade has had evidence of excitement in every word and every letter, and in tho speed with which it was folded and handed to tho officer as ho put his foot in tho swift stirrups, and yet that commander, notwithstanding his trembling hand, gives a boldness of order that shows it self in every word written. You do not need to be told that a trembling hand does not always mean a cowardly hand. It was with a very trembling hand Charles Carroll of Carrollton signed his name to tho Declaration of American Independence, but no signer had more courage. And when some ono said, “There are many Charles Carrolls, and it will not be known which ono it is,” he resumed the pen and wrote Charles Carroll of Carrollton. Trembling hand no sign of timidity! The daring and de fiance seen in the way your name is written in heaven an: a challenge to all earth and hell to como on if they can to defeat your ransomed soul. The way your name is written there is as much as to say: “I have redeemed him. I died for him. I am going to crown and enthrone him. Nothing shall ever happen down in that world where ho now lives to defeat my determination to keep him, to shelter him, to save him. By my Almighty grace lam going to fetch him here. Ho may slip and slide, but he has got to como here. By my omnipotent sword, by the combined strength of all heaven’s principalities and powers and dominions, by the 20,- 000 chariots’ of the Lord Almighty, I am going to see him through." Bold handwriting! It is the boldest thing ever written to write my name there and your name there. He knows our weaknesses and bad propensities better than we know them ourselves. He knows all tho Apollyouio hosts that are sworn to down ns if they can. Ho knows all the temptations that will as sail us between now and tho moment of our lust pulsation of the heart, and yet ho dares to write our name them Bold ness! Nothing at Saragossa or Chalons or Marathon or Thermopyhn to equal it Nothing in the sack of gun powder which ono English soldier carried under tho blazing artillery of the Mohamme dans and blew up the gate of Delhi. Can you not see tho boldness in the penman ship that has already written our names there? Apostle Peter, what do you think of it? And ho answers, “Kept by tho power of God through faith unto com plete salvation.” Oh, blissed Christ, what dost thou mean by it? And ho an swers: “They shall never perish. Neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand. ” “Your names are written in heaven.” Eternal Voliunc*. Again, if, according to the prom<sn of tho text, you arc permitted to look into the volumes of eternity and shall see your name there, you will find it written iu lines, in words, in letters unmistakable. Koine pi nplc have como to consider indistinct and almost un readable penmanship a mark of genius, and so tin y affect it. Becutiso every paragraph that Thomas (Jhulmera and Dean Htanb-y and Lord Byron mid Ru fus Choate and other potent men wrote was a puzzle, imitators make their pen manship a puzzle. Alexandre Dumas says that plain penmanship is tho brevet of incapacity. Then there are soniii who, through too much demand upon their energies and through lack of time, lose tho capacity of making tho pen in telligible, and much of the writing oi this world is indecipherable. Wo have sei i) piles of inexplicable chirograpliy, and we ourselves have helped augment tho magnitude. We have not been sure of the name signed, or tho sentiment expressed, or whether tho reply was af firmative or negative. Through indis tinct penmanship last wills and testa ments have been defeated, widows and orphans robbed of their inheritance, railroad trains brought into collision through tho dim words cf a telegram put into the hand of a conductor, and regiments iu this wise, mistaking their instructions, have been sacrificed in battle. I asked Bishop Oowio, in Auckland, New Zealand, the bishop having been in many of tho wars, what Tennyson, in his immortal poem, “Tho Charge of the Light Brigade,” meant by tho words, “Some ono had blundered,” and tho bishop said that tho awful carnage at Balaklava was the result of an indis tinctly written and wrongly read mili tary order. “Someone had blundered.” But your name, oncu written in tho Lamb’s book of life, will be so unmis takable that all heaven can read it at tho first glance. It will not be taken for tho name of some other, so that in regard to it there shall come to be dis putation. Not one of the millions and billions and quadrillions of tho finally saved will doubt that it means you and only you. Oh, the glorious, the raptur ous certitudo of that entrance on tho heavenly roll. Not saved in a promiscu ous way. Not put into a glorified ir.ob. No, no! Though you came up the worst siuner that was ever saved, and some body who knew you in this world at ono time as absolutely abandoned and disso lute should say, “I never heard of your conversion, and I do not believe you have a right to bo here,” you could just laugh a laugh of triumph, and turning over the leaves containing the names of tho redeemed, say: “Read it for your self. That is my name, written out in full, and do yon not recognize tho hand writing? No young scribe of heaven en tered that. No anonymous writer put it there. Do you not see the tremor in the lines? Do you not also see the boldness of the letters? Is it not as plain as yon der throne, as plain as yonder gate? Is not tho name unmistakable and tho handwriting unmistakable? The cruci fied Lord wrote it there the day I re pented and turned. Hear it! Hear it! My name is written there! There!” riAtnly Written. I have sometimes been tempted to think that there will bo so many of us iu heaven that wo will bo lost in the crowd. No. Each ono of us will bo as distinctly picked out and recognized an was Abel when he entered from earth, the very first sinner saved, and at tho head of that long procession of sinners saved iu all the centuries. My dear hearers, if wo once get there I do not want it left uncertain as to whether wo are to stay there. After you and I get fairly settled there in our heavenly homo wo do not want our title proved defective. Wo do not want to be ejected from the heavenly premises. Wo do not want some one to say: “This is not your room in the house of many man sions, and you have on an attire that you ought not to have taken from tho heavenly wardrobe, and that is not really your name on tho books. If you had more carefully examined tho writ ing in tho register at tho gate, you would have found that tho name was not yours at all, but mine. Now, move out, while I move in.” Oh, what wretchedness after once worshiping in heavenly temples to bo compelled to turn your back on tho music, and after having joined the society of the blessed to bo forced to quit it forever, and after having clasped our long lost kindred in heavenly embrace to have another sepa ration! What an agony would there bo iu such a goodby to heaven! Glory bo to God on high that our names will bo so plainly written in those volumes that neither saint nor cherub nor seraph nor archangel shall doubt it for ono moment for 500 eternities, if there wire room for so many. Tho oldest inhabitant of heaven can read it, and tho child that left its mother’s lap hifct night for heaven can read it. You will not just look at your name and close the book, but you will stand and soliloquize and say: “Is it not wonderful that my name is there at all? How much it cost my Lord to get it there! Unworthy am I to have it in tho same book with tho sous and daughters of martyrdom mid with tho choice spirits of all time. But there it is, and so plain the word and so plain all tho letters 1” And you will turn forward and back ward tho leaves and see other names there, perhaps your father’s name, and your mother's name, and your brother’s name, and your sister’s numo, and your wife’s name, and apostolic names, and say: “I am not surprised that those names are hero recorded. They were better than I ever was. But astonish ment overwhelming, that my numo is in this book!” And turning back to tho page on which is inscribed your name, you will stand and look at it until, see ing that others are waiting to examine the records with reference to their own iiniues, you step buck into the ranks of the redeemed, with them to talk over Uaj wonderment. Ilidcllbljr Written. Again, if you are so happy as to find your name in the volumes of eteruity, you will find it written indelibly. Go up to the state department in this na tional capital and see tho old treaties signed by the rulers of foreign nations just before or just after the beginning of this century, and you will find that some of the documents are so faded out that yoa can read only hero and there a word. From the paper yellow with age, or the parehmeut unrolled before you, time has effar'd line after line. You have to guess at tho name and f perhaps guess wrongly. Old Time i» represented as carrying a scythe, with which he cu’s down the generations, but he carries also chemicals with which he cats out whole paragraphs from important documents. We talk about indelible ink, but there is no stieh thing as indelible ink. It is only a question of time, the complete oblitera tion of all earthly signatures and en grossments. But your name put in tho heavenly record, all the niilleniunis a? heaven cannot dim it. After you have been so long in glm-y that, did you not possess imperishable memory, you would have forgotten the day of your entrance, your name on that page will glow us vividly as on tho instant it was traced there by tho finger of the Great Atoncr. There will bo new generations coming into heaven, and a thousand years from now, from this or from other planet, souls may enter the many mnnsiom-d residence, au<j* though your name were once plainly (Tn the books, suppose it should fade out? How could you prove to tho newcomers that it had ever been written there at all? Indelible! Incapa ble of being canceled! Eternity as help less as time in any attempt at erasure! What a re-enforcing, uplifting thought! Other records in heaven may give out and will give out. There are records i there iu which the recording angel writes down our tins, but it is a book full of blots, so that much of the writ ing there cannot bo road or even guessed at. Tho recording angel did tho writ ing, but our Saviour put in the blots, for did he not promise, “I will blot out their transgressions!” Ami if some one in heaven should remember some of our earthly iniquities and ask God about them the Lord would say: “Oh, I foi’- got them! I completely forgot those sins, fur I premised, ‘Their sins and their iniquities will I remember no more.’ ” In the fires that burn up our world all tho safety deposits, and all : the title deeds, and all the halls of rec ord, and all the libraries will disappear, 1 worse that when the 200,000 volumes 1 and tho 700,000 manuscripts of the Alexandrian library went down under the tor-ch of Omar, and not a loaf or : word will escape tho flame in that last conflagration, which I think will bo witnessed by other planets, whose in habitants will exclaim: “Look! There is a world on fire.” But there will bo only one conflagration in heaven, and that will not destroy, but irradiate. I mean the conflagration of splendors that blaze on tho towers and dome's, and temples and thrones, and rubied and diamonded walls in the light of tho sun that never sets. Indelible! Mor« Light. There is not on earth an autograph letter or signature of Christ. The only time ho wrote out a word on earth, though ho know so well how to write, ho wrote with reference to having it soon shuffled out by human foot, tho time that ho stooped down and with his finger wrote on t He ground the hypocrisy of the Pharisees. But when he writes your name in tho heavenly archives, as I believe he has cr hope ho may, it is to stay there from ago to age, from cycle to cycle, from eon to eon. And so for all you Christian people I do what John G. Whittier, the dying poet, said ho wanted done in his home. Lovely man he wasl I sat with him in a haymow a whole summer afternoon and heard him tell tho story of his life. Ho had for many years hec u troubled with insomnia and was a very poor sleeper, and he aL ways had the window curtain cf his room up so as to seo tho first intimation of sunrise. When ho was breutkiug bis last, iu the morning hour, in bis homo in the Massachusetts village, tho nurse thought that the light of rising sun was too strong for him and so pulled tho window curtain down. Tho last thing the great (Quaker poet did was to wave his hand to have tho curtain up. Ho Wanted to depart in tho full gush of tho morning. Ami I thought it might bo helpful and inspiring to all Christian souls to bavo more light about the fu ture, and so I pull up tho curtain in the glorious sunriso of my text and say, “Rejoice that your names arc written in heaven. ” Bring on your doxologics! Wave your palms! fcfliout your victories! Pull up all the curtains of bright expec tations! Yea, hoist tho window itself, and let the perfume of tho “morning glories” of the king’s garden come in and the music of harps all a-tremblo with symphonies, and tho sound of tho surf of seas dashing to tho foot of tho throne cf God and the Lamb. In Itcil Ink. But thero is only one word on all this subject of divine chirugrapby in heaven that confuses me, and that is tno small adverb which St. John adds when he quotes tho text in Revolution and speaks of some “whoso names ore not written in the book of life of tho Lamb slain.” Oh, that awful adverb “not!” By full submission to Christ tho Lord have tho way all cleared between you and tho sublime registration cf your name this moment. Why not look up and see that they aro ail ready to put your name among the blissful immortals? There is the mighty volume. It is wide open. Thero is the pen. It is from the wing of tho “angel of the now covenant. ” There is the ink. It is red ink from Calvareau sacrifice. And thero is tho divine Scribe —tho glorious Lord who wrote your fa ther’s name there, and your mother's numo there, and your child's name there, and who is ready to write your numo thero. Will you consent that ho do it? Before I say “Amen” to this service ask him to do it. 1 wait a mo an at for the tremendous action of your will, for it is only an action of your will. Here some ono says, "Lord Jesus, with pen plucked from angelic wing and dipped in the red ink of Golgotha, write them either that which is now my earthly name or that which shall bo my heavenly name.” I pause a second longer, that all may consent. Tho pen of the divine Heribe is in tho fingers ami is lifted ami is lowered, and it touches the shining page, and the word is traced iu trembling and bold ami nu- mistukublc letters. He bus put it down iu the right place. 'Tin done! The Rrent transaotton's done! I am my Lord x, and tie is mine. And if there bn in all this assembly a hopeless case, so called hooclcss by your self and others, I take the responsibility of saying that there is a plie e in that book where your i.ame wi uld exactly fit in and look bountiful and you can, quicker than I can clap my bauds to gether, have it there. A religious moot ing was thrown open, and all those who could testify of the converting grace of God were asked to speak. Hilenco reigned a moment, and then a man covered with tho marks of dissipation arose and said: “You can see from my looks what I have been, but 1 am now a saved man. When I left home a thou sand miles from here, I had so disgraced my father’s name that he said, ‘As you arc going away 1 have only two things to ask of you—first, that you will never como home again, and, next, yon will change your name. ’ I prom ised. I have not heard my real name for years. I went the whole round of sin until there was no lower depth tc fathom. But I am by the grace of God a changed man. I wrote home asking forgiveness for my ’waywardness, and hero aro two letters, one from father and another from my sister. My mother died of a broken heart. But these two letters ask mo to como home, and, boys, I start tomorrow morning.'’ The fact was that his name was written in heaven, where I pray God all of our names may be written though so un worthy are tho best of us and all of us. If you bavo ever been in the thick woods and heard tho sound of village bells you kuow the sound is hindered and muffled by tho foliage, though somewhat sweet, but as yon como to the edge of the woods tho rounds be come clearer and mere charming, and when you step out from the deep shad ows into the sunlight you hear tho full, round, mellifluous ringing of tho bolls. Oh, yo down in tho thick shad ows of unbelief and who hear only tho faint notes of this gospel bell, come out into the clear sunlight of pardon and peace and hear the full chime of eternal harmonics from all the towers of heaven. Oh, como out of tho woods! Your Boy Won’t Live a Month So Mr. Gilman Brown, of 81 Mill St., South Gardner, Mass., was told by the doctors. 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Sun. 3 IK p 4 13 4 4a ft :to 0 13 7 03 8 20 12 00 3 13 4 10 4 38 i ft 20 i.i 0 2ft 1 7 02 p 7 13 7 41 8 01 3 40 1 30 p 7 ftO a a 3 .V) a a 0 81 a 10 0! a u 10 35 a a 11 OJ a ..,11 22 a 'll 23 a n II M aj 12 80 p a ! 2 48 p • 11 lilOp- a 281 p al 3 47 pi • a 4 23 {,! a 4 47 |>; u ft 13 ]>' a ft 3ft p| ■ a 0 20 j. . p 11 25 i> 4 35 p 5 35p 0 2Kp 7 08p 7 43 p 8 08 p 8 33p 8 37 p 0 00 11 0 40 p' 0 00 a | 0 42 a 0 40 pi 8 00 e 11 25 pi 10 15 n 3 00 a 12 i8in 0 20 nl Southbound. Lv. N. Y..P.K. R. “ Philadelphia. “ Baltimore ** Washington.. Veil. Lv! Richmond Lv Ar Ar Danville Charlotte .. Otastonia .... King's Mt. . Blacksburg . (■taffiieyR Spartanburg. Greenville.... Central Seneca Westminster. Toecoa Mt. Airy Cornelia Lula ttaiuesvllle . Buford Noreross Atiuntu, K. T. Atlanta, C. T. I'st.Ml! U>. 37 No. a.'.'" 1 Dally. Dallv. 4 30 p12 15 0 55 p 3 50 0 20 p 0 22 10 4.3 p 11 15 2 00 a 12 55 p 5 50 0 35 10 40 11 37 12 23 1 15 1 35 a 0 05 a 10 55 .11 30 2 00 a 12 09 12 24 1 O) 1 50 2 05 2 58 2 18 p 3 13 U 31 4 55 3 55 (140 u 12 20 1 10 p 1 85 p 2 01 p 2 20 p 8 15 p! 4 2o p, 5 15 pi 5 47 p| 0 03 pi. 3 80 a 0 50 p 1 7 35 p a 7 40 p a &IH p a 8 35 p 0 07 p I 0 43 p a lo :u p 4 IS 4 lit) 4 57 ft 20 0 25 a A 35 a 0 57 a 7 20 a 7 *3 a 8 27 a 0!I0 a 5 20 a, IHW pi 8 30 a M" nncui. "N" night. “A" a. in. "P" p. m. Nos. 37 and 88—Washington and Southwest ern Vestibule Limited. Through Pullman •1 coper* between New York and New Orl«aus. via Washington. Atlanta and Montgomery,and also Is'twceu New York and Memphis, via Washington, Atlanta and Birmingham. This train also earrins Richmond-Augusta sleeping cars Isdween Danville and Charlotte. Kir«l class thoroughfare coach between Washington and Atlanta. Dining cur* surva all meal* on rout*. Nos. 86 and 80-Uni tod States Fast Mall. Pull man sleeping ear* between New York, Atlanta and New Orleans. Pullman parlor ear* be tween Kiohmoud and Danville. Pullman Sleep ing ears lietwoen Birmingham and Charlotte. No*. 11 and 12—Pullman slocplug cur* belwoon Richmond and Danville. The Air Line Belle train, Nos 17 and 18, will, from June 1st to Oetolier 1st, iHUt, lsi operated Wweon Atlanta and Mt. Atry.Uu., daily ex cept Sunday. W. H UKKKN, J. M. CULP, (ien'l Hupt., Trnftle M g’r., Washington, D. O. Washington, D. O. W. A TURK, B. II. HARDWICK, (ien'l Pam Ag't., Aas'tGeu'l Pass. Ag't^, Washington, D. Q.Atlanta, Gq.