W- II. UHEA, EDITOR AM) PliOPUIETOli.__“Let the People Rule.”_ $2 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE.
VOL- 1._ DES ARC, ARKANSAS! FRIDAY, MARCH'S,Tsil. NUMBERS
Jhc (£oii$titiitumat Pinion.
PRINTED EVERY WEEK, AT
r> c s Arc, Arkansas,
EDITED AND PUBLISHED BY
WESTON II. RIIEA.
; office on corner of Buena TKU and Lyon Streets, over
John Jackson A I'O*
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rates of ADVERTISING.
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Advertisements displayed by large type,
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Personal communications charged double the
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Announcing candidates for State and District
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1 'bitrTTMTT—C—TI
OFI'ICIAIi I>nsi:< TORY.
OFFICERS OF PRAIRIE COUNTY.
—
COUNTY AND PROBATE JUDGE,
.James I ^. Hunt,
CLERK,
W I L L I A M G O O D It U M.
SHERIFF,
WILLIAM A. PLUNKETT.
T II E A SURER,
WYLIE LANKFORD.
CORONER,
LEVIN II A lilt I SON.
r SURVEYOR,
E. A. HOWELL.
COMMON SCHOOL COMMISSIONER,
W. 1*. P UK ST ON.
, INTERN VI. IMPROVEMENT COMMITTER,
B E X J A M i N F A W C E T .
Jt'ST ICES or THE PEACE.
Pra-r'r—3. F. Coulter. F. I. beard. !>. Y Smiili.
James (ilovi r
*■<! > tie—0. M. Connor. W. K. i
ho giii. Win Donnell. S. Coz-ii'i V» C. IT
i . . Kul i
il ■ •—'! P. Vaughan. T. 11. Kent. L. C
Ilrialjevi. O p black
'r-—S. C. l’.i. :U . I). Dougl-I Sr\
i W iv McCoabs.
]]< air ai—T. ’1 Gray..) i ticker
ll.rh Wands—T. F. i rieu. W. It. l.i.iiitiy.
tj.t-tr l.ah—Gil in u barber, Janus T. .Morris.
La Grew—T. Al. belcher. Thomas llarville.
C O X S T A I! EES.
Prairie—Q. T. Webster; Center—J. 1). Steele:
Car i.nr—!l. 11. Frecling; Hamilton—F. Jarvis;
i Hoot!—W A. Harper; White Hirer—C" T.
Oldham; Hick Woods—W. A. Barker; Wattensaic—
John Gales.
Censtables of Clear Lake and La Grew Town
ships failed to fill their bonds.
K T 1 : A M I? < > A T S.
1.KAV1.S MEMPHIS LVl.bV SATFKDAY.
.llcmphlg, White and kittle Red
River Packet,
A. dmir ex 1 ?
ELIAS THOMASSON, - - - - Master.
millS FINE FREIGHT AND PASSENGER
I steamer, having been thoroughly repaired,
will run regu'arly between Memphis and the vari
ous points on White river throughout the season,
arriving at Des Arc on Mondays on her up trip,
au i down on Tuesdays. For freight or passage,
applf on board. ' feb!l2, ’01-tf
Regular Xevv Orleans, W hile and
kittle Red Riser Packet,
widc-Wheel Kfcamer
rr f a „ ..... .. m ' *
I _£k. T _£k. T*& %
II S. EATON,.Master.
111118 FINE FREIGHT AND PASSENGER
. packet having been furdiishcd with cotton
guards, and otherwise repaired, will rnn between
New Orleans and the various points on White
fiver, during the season, as a semi-monthly
packet. nov 23-tf
LEAVES MEMPHIS EVERT TLESDAV.
Memphis and White River Packet,
<«OLI>EX STATE,
HICKS KING, - ... . Master.
J. B. Russell, - - Clerk.
rP:tIS SPLENDID PASSENGER STEAMER
A will make regular tripst'rom Memphis to Des
Arc, Augusta and Jacksonport, on White river,
lor freight or passage, apply on hoard.
AT COST ANI) CARRIAGE.
I AM OFFERING MV ENTIRE STOCK OF
1- Dry Goods at Cost and ten percent. Every
body is invited to call and sec for themselves.
Hy goods are inferior to none in this market,find
my ohject in selling off at cost and carriage is to
♦liable me to replenish with a stock which will be
bought exclusively with cash.
1 novS-tf. LEVIN HARRISON
MONEY I MONET!! MONEY!!!
A LL TnoSE INDEBTED EITHER TO THE
~A firtn of Washer. Vaughan & Co., or R. C.
tcCarley &. Co., for 18G»>, will please come for
and pay up, as wc are compelled to have
money to pay our debts.
Jan2->. 01 -,f._R. c. McCARLEY A Co,
TOISSOI.l TION NOTICE!
HE PARTNERSHIP HERETOFORE EXIST
tng between Drs. Sanders k Neel, is this day
^solved by mutual consent. fob 22-2w
_r !:o I’KMSIOX.vt, CAUDW.
T J JOBE
Attorney at Law,
DES ARC, ARKANSAS,
\ITILL PRACTICE IN PRAIRIE AND THE
. " adjoining counties, l'articluar attention
given to Collections.
ltJEfEESNCKS.—T. J. & c. rowell, Knoxville,
Tenn.; Thos II. Callaway, President ol' Ocoee
Dank. Cleveland, Tenn.; Moore Marsh, Chatta
nooga, Tenn.; Hon.Jo.hn II. Lumpkin, Rome.Ga.;
Mon. William Daugherty, Columbus, Ga.; lion.
lnmP1 t.' M.c?onBell> R'nggold, Ga.; William II.
Georgia ,esldcnt Northwestern Dank, Ringgold,
- g ._ nov 3.
T. B. KENT,
Attorney at Law,
DES ARC, ARKANSAS,
WILL PRACTICE IN THE COURTS OF
Prairie, White, Monroe, Arkansas, St.
Francis, Jackson and Independence counties. All
business intrusted to his care shall meet with
prompt attention. Office on Lyon street. no23-tf.
1 >!•- J. .1. LANE,
Iteslcloiit Pliysielan,
DES ARC, ARKANSAS,
FTIENDERS HIS SERVICES TO TI1E CITIZENS
1 of Des Arc and adjacent country. From
his experience, he hopes to share at least a por
tion of the patronage of the public. Office on
Buena \ ista street, at Balsly’s Drug Store, jy-y
E. T. SWEYER,
Dent i?<t,
DES ARC, ARKANSAS.
VVHLL CONTINUE TIIE BUSINESS IN ALL
v V its branches, including continuous Gum
Work. Office on Buena Vista street, up stairs,
Jackson’s new building. liov ]<i tf.
RUSS EVANS,
REAL ESTATE & GENERAL LAND AGENT.
DES ARC, ARKANSAS.
| pROMPT ATTENTION WILL BE GIVEN TO
1. all business entrusted to him in his
line. iiav 3
J. T. PARHAM,
Ai’cliiteet niitl liuilder,
DLS ARC, ARKANSAS.
SOLICITS CONTRACTS FOR BUILDINGS OF
1 ' rv. .y style. He is also prepared to furnish
Desi os. Estimates and Drawings of all the nmd
< a n'- i.-rs of architecture: build, superintend
; ! u ;»h working plans for building at mu' 1 >• -
p. • * *i b> - l.-ft at the “Citizen Ofli -e.
ii ' i re j ■■ t• chi :on nov t y
■*, DR. H. ARMISTEAD,
V\t)>n .an. and iccoueUenr.
i
Tiro tT>r- i?*'*vc»o
n v .0 PERMANENTLY LOCATED AT
IM S ARC, offers his professional services
to the citizens of the town and adjacent country.
Office on Lyon street, nov 3.
SIDNEY Y. WATSON E. S. HAMMOND.
witsos &. u t.iinoxi),
.
Atto l* n o y ii t I j*i an: ,
OFFICE: TELEGRAPH BUILDING, NORTH
_ Side Court Square,
jay IK-tf. MEMPHIS. TENN.
T. J. WOODSON,
Attorney at I.aiv,
DES ARC, ARKANSAS,
NATILL PRACTICE IN THE FIFTH JUDICIAL
\ \ Circuit, and the counties of White, Jack
son and Monroe. All business intrusted to his
care will'be promptly attended to. nov 3
c. A. JUDSON,
Carpenter and Joiner,
DES ARC, ARKANSAS,
Dealer in sash, doors, mantles.
Window and Dior Frames, etc. Shop corner
Erwin and Park Streets. N. B.—Coffins made to
order, on short notice. nov 3-y
A. W. MCNEILL,
Attorney n. t a w ,
DES ARC, ARKANSAS,
I PRACTICES IN THE COURTS OF PRAIRIE
an>l adjacent counties. Office, corner Erwin
! and Lyon streets. II<|T 5
J>ES ARC
FEMALE ACADEMY,
I
MISS SAME A. DAVIS, Principal.
I
, r. , , i » *, *
rpms INSTITUTION WILL DC OPENED ON
JL Monday next, the 20th inst.. for the rtccp
I Hon of pupils.
.
TERMS OF TUITION, FER SESSION or TWENTY-ONE
WEEKS.
; Orthography. Reading and Writing, - - SlO 00
English Grammar, Arithmetic, Geography, 12 no
Algebra and the higher English branches, lo 00
French and the higher Mathematics, - - 20 00
Students will be ciiarged front the time of enter
ing school until the close of the term, except in
cases of protracted sickness.
References.—Rev. J. Douglass. A. M., Presi
dent of Franklin College. Holly Springs, Miss.;
Hon. J. J. Steger. North Mt. Pleasant. Miss.; Col.
M. D. Shelby, Carson’s Landing. Miss.; J. E.
Gatewood, Esq., T. J. Woodson, Des Arc.; J. M.
Coyle, Hickory Plain. Arkansas. nov 23-2m
COERCION OR NOT COERCION !
This is to inform all those who are
owing me, either by note or account, to come
forward by the 28th of February nut and pay
up.or they will have to pay the same to an officer.
Money I must have to pay my debts. A word to
the wise is sufficient.
janlSLtl'J JNO. A. FRITH.
IS I' t-i I :v J-7 f-i CAUDK.
J. M. GOGGIN. D. C. TRADER. B. W. L. HOLT.
GOGGIN, TRADER & 1I0LT,’
Cjtton and Tobacco Factors,
GIVOCEUS,
FORWARDING AND COMMISSION MERCHANTS,
No. 1G Trout Row, MEMPHIS, TENN.
rEEKLY ACCESSIONS RECEIVED through
out the season to their already large and
desirable stock of Tobacco, Ragging. Rope. Su
gar, Coffee, Molasses, Bacon, Salt. Whisky, Flour,
and Plantation Supplies generally. Will Store
Cotton, Leaf Tobacco and other Produce in bur
commodious Warehouse on Union Street, in sight
of their business house, No. Di Front Row. We
Store anti Sell Cotton at 75c per bale. no 30-3m
excelsior htove wours:
GILES F FILLEY,
manufacturer of
Charter Oak, Plymoth Rock, & Valley For^re
Cooking Stoves!
Also, every variety of
PiKLOR, HOY & C'AYYOY STOVES,
E>o and 157 Main Street,
dec 7-tf ST. LOUIS, MISSOURI,
HOFFHEIMER BROTHERS,
IMPORTERS AND DEALERS IN
Brandies, Gins, Wines, Cigars, Ac.,
ALSO,
DISTILLERS & MANUFACTURERS OF
Domestic Wines a n <1 I.lqnoi's,
32 & 31 Second St., betw. Main & Sycamore,
not 23 if. CINCINNATI, 0.
a.G. m'caki.ev, sam’i. r.. dkows, tiios. m'cari.ev.
McCAULEY, BROWN, & (0.,
( Succttaors to II. C. Hr Carl<y ,j- Co.,)
DKS ARC; ARKANSAS.
DEALERS IN STAPLE. \\b FANCY DRY
tuxi.D. I. ■ a -i y M ■. 1 • (’In:,, ng. Hats, Caps.
Ponts mi.I S .oes, Hat iw.i - * . tlery, S.iJdh-s
Trunk,-- an t Valises. l'orwatdin : ,n i C<-n
rn >n Merchants.
I F. L. DTI LX, - - - F. KLEIN.
LEPTEIN dc KLEI!i\
*>EA LE11S IN
( LOCKS, WATCHES and JEWELRY,
Hik na Vista Street,
DKS ARC, ARKANSAS.
Having on ii \nd a nkw and selected
. stock of Clocks, Watches and Jewelry, we
respectfully solicit a continuance of the kind pat
ronage of t ho people of Dos Arc and surrounding
country. We arc also prepared to do all kinds of
Watch, Clock and Jewelry work with care and
despatch. All work warranted. dce7-tf
GARVIN, B£LL & Co7,~
IMPORTERS A WHOLESALE HEALERS IN
FOREIGN & DOMESTIC DRY-GOODS.
AND
>f smnfii<*t urers-i of Clotliing.
Nos. 412 and 441 Main Street, north side,
nor lfi-Gm. LOUISVILLE. KY.
E. O. NORTON, - - - - V. A. DRAGEE.
IK O. XORTOX &, CO.,
Forwarding AC'*0111 mission Merchants
and dealers in
FLOUR, GRAIN and PRODUCE,
>,<». 30 Trout Itow,
dec 14-2m MEMPHIS, TEXX.
r. m. nouiNso.N, ------ g. j. drancii.
ROBINSON <fc BRANCH,
(Successors to G. W. Vadcn,)
WHOLESALE AND RETAIL DEALERS IN
Cj» rooeries andProcluce,
RECEIVING, FORWARDING A COMMISSION MERCHANTS,
nov3. DES ARC. ARKANSAS.
M LAUEX..S. N. JACKSON.
M L AREN & JACKSON,
Successors to G. & J. McLaren & Co.,
DES ARC, ARKANSAS.
Dealers in staple and fancy dry
Goods, Ready-Made Clothing, Hats and
Cups, Bonnets, Roots and Shoes, Hardware and
Cuttlery. Rooks, Stationery, ete. Also. Receiving,
Forwarding afid Commission Merchants, nov 3.
A. STEW A UJ", W.U. STEWART, II. STEWART,
STEWART & BROS,
Receiving, Forwarding
AM) COMMISSION MERC1I A NTS,
nov 8 DES ARC, ARKANS \S.
COST Oil HKL4IU!
ON. OR ABOUT THE 15TII OF DECEMBER
last, the following notes, due about the 1st
ol December, 1800, payable to A. & S. J. Gwynn:
One note on T. .1. Jobe, for $01,95; one on T. J.
Woodson for $t3,45: one on J. C. Rutler for
$31,65; one on II. L. Tant for $16,25; one on
W. E. Robinson for $7,49; one on II. Bestwick
for $3,60.
All persons arc hereby notified not to trade for
said notes, as they will be established on my affi
davit. R. W. NEWBY.
Feb. 23d, 1861._ mh l-3t
E XCELLENT PLOWS.
WE HAVE JUST RECEIVED A LARGE
quantity of the best Cast Plows, which w>
offer cheap. nov 3. • J. JACKSON & CO.
- POETICAL.
[From the Knickerbocker Magazine.
ARRAYING THE DEAD.
Touch Lqr with gentle fingers, friends :
’Tis hard to know ber sleeping breathless there—
0! would we did not need to ask your care—
But sudden griefs all power to act suspends.
Of all our little honseliold band
She was the fairest—our sweet blushing Rose,
Just blossoming to womanhood: life’s woes
Had set uo thorns to mar the petals bland.
Compose her limbs to that sweet grace
And modest dignity that v is her own.
While they are supple; new u.at she is gone,
Of her late suffering conceal the trace.
Nay, close her eyes more firmly, so
The silken fringes of the lid may shade
The sightless pupils. Ye will not upbraid
This fond, exacting pride, born ol such woe!
Wc could look on her till our eyes
Were blind with gazing, and we should not tire;
This sudden grief has set our hearts on fire;
Like Jeptkuh, our sweet girl wc sacrifice.
Ilcr features arc relaxing—see!
The lips are wreathing with the olden smile,
That spake her innocent of thought of guile ;
O! darling! it is hard to part with thee!
Ay, robe her in the snowy dress—
She wore it when the summer buds were blown—
The bright, fair summer and our Rose were Down:
Like thee, October, fallen leaves we press.
Our pure white Lilly, waxen cold !
Can it be wrong to grieve about you so?
Here, take this ribbon like the virgin snow,
And her wan hands o'er her still breast enfold.
So ye have done, kind friends? Depart
And leave us lo the sanctity of grief:
Alone with our sweet dead and Crod, relief
Must come in some blest form to each torn heart.
May such dire woe ne’er visit you:
Thanks that no careless stranger hand arrayed
Tliec, love. O! God! our cup is bitter made!
Dear friends, ye have done what ye could, adieu!
-——*9*
SVXD. 1 J'. — Bv Herbert.
O day most calm most bright !
The fruit of this, the next world s bud;
The endorsement of supreme delight,
\\ lai by a lriend, and with his blood;
The couch of time; cure's bairn and bay;—
The week were dark but for thy light;
Tiiy torch doth show the way.
The other days and thou
Make up one man ; whose face thou art
Knocking at heaven with thy brow;
The working days are the back part;
The burden of me week lies there,
Making me whole to stoop and bow,
’till ibv release appear.
Min had straight forward gone
To endless death. I5ut thou dost pull
And turn us round, 10 lojk on one,
IVUoui, it we were not very dull,
\\ e could not choose but took oil still ;
Since llicrp is no JiiaCe so nioite
Tiiere vvii.cli be doth not till.
Sundays the pillars arc
On wlnco heaven's arched pillars lies:
The oilier days tilt i.p tne spare
And hollow room w.m vauines.
Tiiey are the fruiUitl beds and borders
lu Cio>t s rich garden; that is bare
Whieli p.,ns ilieir ranks and orders.
A FRENCH \V ILL STORY.
is -lie dead, then ?”
•• \ e.'. madame.” replie ! a little gentleman
" " ^Vi.TT f vid1'1'1 ^ s^iJlt bieeches.
Is to he opened here immediately by her
solicitor.”
“ Shull we inherit anything?’'
“ it must be supposed so; we have claims.”
*■ \\ ho is this miserably dressed jtevsonage
who intrudes herself here ?”
“ O, she,” replied the little man, sneoring
ly, ‘•she won’t have much in the will; she is
sister to the deceased.”
*• What! that Anne, wadded in 1812,
a man of nothing—an n ut
*• Precisely so.”
“ She must have no small amount of inipti-.
dence’ to present herself here, before a re
spectable family.”
*• I lie more so, as sister Egric, of noble
birth, had never forgiven her for that mesal
liance.;’
Anne moved tit this time across the room
in which the family of the deceased were as
sembled. 8lie was pale; her eyes were filled
with tears, and her face was furrowed by caic
with precocious wrinkles.
“ What do you come here for?” said Mad
ame do V i lie boys, with great haughtiness,
who a moment before had been interrogating
the little man who inherited with her.
“ Madamo,” the poor lady replied, with hu
mility, *■ 1 do not come here to claim a part
of what does not belong to me; I came solely
to see M. Dubois, my sister’s solicitor, to in
quire if she spofc of me at her last hour.”
“ W hat! Do you think people busy them
selves about you ?” arrogantly observed Mad
ame do Villebqys the disgrace of a great
house—you, who married a man of nothing—
a soldier of Bonaparte.”
*• Madame, my husband, although a child
of the people, was a brave soldier, and, what
is better, an honest man,” observed Auric.
At this moment a venerable personage, the
uuiarj uuutiis, mane nas appearance.
‘“Lease,” lie said, “• to reproach Anne with
a union which her sister has forgiven her.
Anne loved a generous, brave, and good man
who had no other crime to reproach himself
with than poverty and the obscurity of his
name.- Nevertheless, had he lived, it his
family had known him as 1 know him—I. his
old friend—Anne would now he happy and
respected.”
“• ilut why is this woman here?” Said the
notary, gravely j “• 1 myself requested her to
be here.
JM. Dubois then proceeded to open the will.
“ 1, ncing sound in mind and heart, Egric
de Leuitremeg, retired as a boarder in the
Convent of the Sisters of the Sacred llc.ut
of Jesus, dictate the tollow.ng w.shes as the
expression of my formal des.re and principal
clause of my testament:
*• Af er my decease, there will be found
two hundred thousand francs in money at my
notary s, bes.de jewelry, clothes and furniture,
as also a chateau worth two hundred thousand
francs.
u In the convent, where T have been resid
ing, vv.ll be louud my book, Ilcures de. hi
1 urge, a holy volume, which remains iis it
was when i took it with me at the time of
emigration. 1 desire that these three objects
be uivuled into three lots.
“ The first lot, the two hundred thousand
dollars in money.
“'lhe second lot, the chateau, furniture
and jewels.
* t he third and last lot, my book, Ilcurcs
de la Merge.
“ I have pardoned my sister Anne the grief
she has caused us, and i would have comfort
ed her sorrows, if 1 had known sooner of her
return to Franco. 1 compromise her in iny
will.
“ Madame & Villcb^ys, my much beloved
cousin shall have the lket choice.
“ 31. Vatry, uiy brother-in-law, sh ill have
second choice.
“ Anne will take the remaining lot.
“ Ah, ah,” said Vatry, “ sister Egrie was a
very good one; that is rather clever on her
part.”
“ Anne will then only have the prayer
hook.” exclaimed Madame de VUleboys,
laughing aloud.
The notary interrupted her jocularity.
“ .Madame,” said he, “which of these lots
do you choose ?”
“ The two hundred thousand francs in
money.”
“ Have you quite made up your mind ?”
“ Perfectly so.”
“ The man of the law, addressing himself
to the good feelings of the lady, said :
“ Madame, you are rich ; and Anne has
nothing. Could you not leave her this and
take the hook of prayers, which the eccentri
city of the deceased has placed 011 a par with
the other lot ?”
“ You must be joking, M. Dubois,” ex
claimed Madame de Villeboys; “you must
really be dull not to see the intention of sis
ter Egrie in all this. Our honored cousin
foresaw full well that her book of prayers
would fall to the lot of Anne, who had the
last choice.”
“ And what do you conclude from that?”
inquired the notary.
••1 conclude that she intended to intimate
to her sister that repentance and prayer were
the only help that she had to expect in this
world.”
As she finished these words, Madame do
V. made a definite selection of the ready
money for her share. 31. Vatry. as may be
easily imagined, se'octed the chateau, furni
ture, and jewels, as his lot.
“ .Monsieur V atry,” said 31. Dubois to that
gentleman, “ even suppose it had been the in
tention of the deceased to punish her sister,
it would be nobfe on your part, millionaire as
you are, to give at least a portion of your
share to Anne, who is in want of it.”
“ Thanks for your kind advice, dear sir,”
replied Vatry, “ the mansion is situated on
the very coniines of. my woods, and suits ad
mirably all tlie more so that it is readly fur
nished. As to the jewels of sister Egrie,
they are reminiscences which one ought never
to part with.”
v- Since it is so,” said the notary, “ my poor
.Madame Anne, here is the prayer book which
remains to you.”
Anne, attended by her son, a handsome
i *.iii i. i. .. . l i
till Ulliv; V * V-a, lUUiv omivi -J
prayer book, and making her son kiss it after
her, she said :
Hector, kiss this book, which belonged
to your poor aunt, who is dead, hut who would
have loved you well, had she known you.
When you have learned to read, you will pray
to heaven togiiake you wise and good as your
father was, and happier than your unfortu
nate mother.”
The eyes of those who wore present were
fille I with tears, notwithstanding their efforts
to preserve an appearance of indifference.
The child embraced the old book with boy
ish fervor, and opening it afterward—
“Oh, mama,” he said, “what pretty
pictures !”
“ Indeed 1” said the mother, happy in the
gladness of her boy.
“ \'n. Tlip onod Yiro-in in n tel dress
holding the infant Jesus in her arms. But
why, mamma, has silk paper been put upon
the pictures ?”
“So that they might not be injured, my
dear. ’
“ But, mamma, why arc there ten silk pa
pers to each engraving ?”
The mother looked, and uttering a sudden
shriek, she tell into the arms of 31. Bubois.
the notary, who, addressing those paesent,
i said :
*• Leave her alone, it won't be much ; peo
ple don't die of these shocks. As for you,
little one,” addressing Hector. “ give me that
prayer book ; you will tear the engraving.
'I he inheritors withdrew ; making various
conjectures as to the cause of Anne’s sudden
illness, and the interest the notary took in
her. A month afterward they met Anne and
her son exceedingly well, yet not extrava
gantly dressed, taking an airing in a barouche.
J his led them to make inquiries, and they
ascertained that Madame Anne had recently
purehasded a hotel for one hundred and
eighty thousand francs, and that she was giv
ing a first-rate education to her son. '1 he
news came l.ke a thunderbolt upon her.
Madame dc Villeboys and 31. Vatry hastened
to call upon the notary for explanations. The
good Dubois was working at his desk.
“ Perhaps we arc disturbing you,” said the
arrogant old lady.”
“ .No matter, 1 was just in the act of set
tling a purchase in the State funds for 3Iad
ame Anne.”
“ What!” exclaimed Vatry ; “ after pur
chasing house and equipage has she still
money to invest ?”
•• l ndoubtedly so.”
“ But where did the money come from ?”
“ Where, did you not see *
(i AIM .
V» 111 II .
“When she shrieked out at seeking what
I the prayer hook contained which she inher
ited. ’
•• We observed nothing.”
“ Oh, 1 thought you saw it,” said the sar
castic notary. 1 he prayer book contained
i sixty engravings, and each engraving was
covered by ten nutes of a thousand francs each.”
“Good heavens!” exclaimed Yatry, thun
derstruck.
“ if 1 had only known it,” shouted Mad
ame dc V illeboys.
“ You had the choice,” added the notary,
li and l myself urged you to take the prayer
; book, but you refused.”
“ Put who could have expected to find a
fortune in a breviary.
'i be two baffled egotists withdrew, their
hearts swollen with passionate envy.
Madame Anne is still in Paris. If you
pass by the llue Lafitte, on a summer even
ing you will see a charming picture on the
first floor, illuminated by the pale reflection
of wax lights.
A lady who has joined the two fair hands
of her son. a fair child of six years of age. in
prayer before an old book of Heures dt la
Vi* rye. and for which a cross in gold has been
made.
“ Pray for me. child,” said the mother.
“ And for who else?” inquired the child.
“ For your father, your dear father, who
perished without knowing you, without be
ing able to love you.”'
“ Must I pray to the saint, my patron ?”
“ Yes, my little friend ; but i do not for
got a saint who watches us from heaven, and
who smiles upon us from above the clouds.”
“ What is the name of that saint, mamma
dear ?”
The mother, then watering the child's
head with her tears, answered :
“ Her name ia—sister Egrie."
THE HOURS.
BV F. K. ZOLLICOFFEIt.
Neither substance quite nor shadow,
Courting lonely moor and meadow,
Masking round the bubbling spring,
Hiding on the whirlwind’s wing.
How systematically beautiful is the order
of the hours! With what harmony they
move on in the bright tenor of their way; and
what a moral do they teach to the reflecting
and meditative mind! They are the symbols
of human happiness. They are the vignette
and the emblem of life, fairly pointing out to
the intelligent eye those purer models of*earth
ly excellence which are too beautiful to last.
Like the transient bubbles of a boundless
ocean which for a moment reflects on its sur
face the fair imagery of Heaven, they burst
in the plent'tudc of the mimic beauty, and
depart, forgotten, and for ever returuless.
With all their terrible responsibility—with i
all their weight of human happiness and of
human wo—with all the anxieties, impulses,
conquests, and overthrows of desultory life—
with the hope, the phrenzy, the ambition and
despair, that move and agitate a boundless
creation, they depart from us and are gone
forever—they move off into the oblivious
ocean of the past, and not a wreck nor a
shadow remains of that influence which for a
period filled Heaven, and held the destiny of
the universe.
They arc t,hc book of nature, in whoso har
monious foldings and enamelled pages we read
the existence of an Omnipotent Author. Who
has not felt the divinity of the hours, warm
and fresh upon his soul, when life was young
and innocence abroad in his spirit? Who
has not been made glad with their enlivening
influence when fortune frowned, and adversity
with her scorpion sting plied tire sore and de
sponding soul? Who has not, in prosperity,
i gazed on the morning hour, and admired the
1 hand that modelled it ? There is not a mouu
i incut of nature in which the beauty of crca
| tiun is more apparent, or the existence of an
overruling Divinity made more manifest, than
in the wonderful order and perpetual harmony
of the hours. '1 heir regular departure and
return—their voiceless modulations through
the varie 1 egress of day—the inperccptible
changes from the sombre to the beautiful,
from the shadow of darkness to the unmoiled
effulgence of light—and their happy and intui
tive influences over the impulses of the heart,
point clearly to the origin of that matchless
desitrn. that beautiful system which has no
! parallel, with the limpid freshness of the
| rising morn, they blend the rich ray of meri
j dian splendor, and in the lap of sable night
1 repose they the lovely twilight. The colours
! of the rainbow are not more varied, more fleet
| ing, or more beautiful than they; and yet
i they are the counterpart of human feeling.
! llow peculiarly adapted to the diversity of the
mind, and hap] iiy apportioned to the different
j pursuits and diversions of man ! As varied
I as fhe tinselling forest, are the hues of human
i impulse and of human feeling; but there is
; not a mould of mortal mind, from an Addison
j to a Voltaire, from a Byron to a Guy, which
has not found its kindred hour. There is an
hour of fellowship for the high-born soul—
and for the most grovelling spirit that prowls
the earth, there is a period of hallucination.
The most buoyant disposition—and yet the
most melancholy—are equally companioned ;
j .....1 PYelaivn. as we reflect iw
the peculiar and wonderful harmony which
characterizes their respective tendencies, that
there is a Divinity above which shapes the
j soul, and moulds its elysium to the halcyon
j hour !
llow grateful to tha young and ardent spirit
, is the hour of dawn—the fresh, cool dawn of
a summer morningl The early swallow, high
1 twittering on his airy spire, feels the heavenly
. influence, and wheels headlong down the
abyss; then breasting the healthy current,
I again speeds upward in a thousand fickle
I turns, till, resting on Ids ehoseu height, he
melodiously warbles his paean to the morning
j air. The humble hare now frisks out to sip
j the limpid dew. Tis Heaven’s benison—and
enough for him; lie drinks and is refreshed.
And fain would he now await the rising orb
of the east, and gambol in his mellow ray;—
hut why does he fly ?—hark ! the pleasures he
meditates arc denied him. The wild blast of
the hunter's horn breaks over the hills, and
. the redoubling cry of the opening pack brings
a fearful warning to his little bosom. It is
j the signal of death ! Oh, can it be that man
I many so barbarously pervert the use of this
j happy hour,—that he may turn from the holy
I embrace of moral purity, and seek to bathe
j h s hands in the life-blood of a harmless crea
| ture? Ah! this is the price of innocence,
and this is a history of its fate.
But let us turn from this melancholy fancy
to the full appreciation of the morning hour.
Let us picture to ourselves the little village
green or rural lawn ovcrwhich we ran in child
| ish innocence, and proudly planted the first
footprint on the hillock green. It is now the
orison hour—and a thousand souls are min
gled in prayer. The sun is just bursting
away from the blue mountains, and as his
radiance shoots broad and lomr over the wide
expanse of farm and forest, a thousand shape
less shadows start, and perform their lowly
revolution about the acknowledged lord of
day. The birds are singing in the adjoining
grove—the peasant adds his rural strain, and,
with the sweet symphony of nature's soug, is
now commingled the low hut lovely chime of
the distant village hell. How refreshing—
how delightful is the morning hour! With
what an enrapturing consonance of sound and
sight, of woodland song and woodland scenery,
does it regale the soul! It is the hour of joy
—the paragon of nature’s beauty—tbe em
blem of youth! It is a subject fora poet's
fancy, happy may he be. who can weave into
the meshes of his song the spirit of the mant
ling morn.
We are dazzled with the splendor of noon.
We behold the sun glorying in the zenith of
his power, the sole monarch of a cloudless
heaven, and oer conceptions are filled with the
bright and bcautiiul. It is the lmur of adora
tive feeling. The mind delights to associate
it with a more effulgent light, and wc readily
behold in it a symbol of the glory of God.
It is a beautiful hour—calm and unruffled as
a martyr's mind, and bright as the hope
that animates his bosom. Unfanned by a
breeze, unrefreshed by a shower, nature sleeps.
Silent are the meadows and silent are the
mountains—there is not a sound in this “same
ness of splendor,” save the solitary tinkle of
•the distant boll, or the ceaseless hum of the
little honey-bee, as he bestows a gentle kiss
on the nectared petal of each adjoining flower.
The lazy voluptuary now lolls upon his gilded
sofa, and the mountain shepherd as happily
reclines him on the green sward beside his
panting charge; the sturdy ploughman,
parched with thirst, retires to the sequestered
brook, where, falling upon his breast, he quaffs
full freely of tbe refreshing current; while
the idle school-boy, proud of his hour of free
dom, flies to the far-off rivulet, and sinks deep
in its ambling bosom. This is the hour of
fainting nature,—vegetation shrinks, and
the spirit of the little flowers is gone ere
it is half-blown. Then how grateful tho
zephyr, how welcome thejintorvening cloud,
which for a moment hovers over the the droop
ing hold and pours in its fleet but refreshing
sympathy, as if Heaven itself had wept tho
splendid ruin.
The hour of sunset, how beautiful! It U
as the last hope of the dark and erring spirit,
stricken out at the hour of death. The mind
is stung by the association, hut the imagina
tion is held captive by the beauty of truth,
and we fondly linger on the sweet yet pensive
idea. How often, when the west has gathered
in its golden fragments, and earth put on her
emerald green, have I gazed on this panto
mime of nature with the idolatry of a fervid
imagination! How often, with full and rap
turous feeling have I contemplated the ethe
real imagery impressed on a western horizon,
till the glowing picture faded from my view,
and I was forced to know it as a mockery! I
have seen it as an herculean battlement reared
by furies and flaming with the heat of internal
warfare. I have gazed on its crimsoned va*
pors, piled broad and high, and based on a
band of western mountains, and pictured to
myself the gigantic towers of a golden bastion
built by nature’s architect and planted on tho
rock of age3. 1 have fancied it a “ giant em
erald set in sapphire,” or as a sardine stone in
the wreath of a vestal, and, with the caprice
of imagination, have held it up as the distant
illumiuation of a sea of glory, or as the bright
abode of a world of cherubim. But, false as
my fancy, it hath faded away, and nature is
putting on her soberest attire.
■Tis the tranquil hour of evening twilight.
How still is earth—how serene tho aspect of
Heaven! How transccndently lovely to the med
itative mind, are all objects at this hour! The
pensive spirit sinks into a haven of rest; the
high-born but neglected soul now pillows itself
on a bosom of conscious innocence, and tho
stern and ratioual mind calmly surveys the
puisant and happy operations of nature’s laws.
With what facility does the mind now collate
and amalgamate the happiness of the past!
with what fondness do we now turn to the re
collection of better days and fairer prospects !
and how often and with what fldelity does
memory recall the shadows of departed friend
ship. that never will—never can bless us more!
The tomb, that cheerless habitation of the
dead, has received our friend; the little ones
that loved us in our vouth, the fond ones that
smiled on us in health and smoothed our fe
vered brow in illness, those guardian ones who
.1 . ..1.1 __... 1.1 _ __ .. J
n uu utu ua »nil a o can uhv*
caressed us as a noble Boy—the tender, solicit
ous father—the dear, devoted mother—all are
gone; and as the gnarled and withered oak
on the mountain's brow, all friendless and
companionless, we weather the storm alone.
llow beautiful is the departure of the twi
light hour! Like the hope that makes lovely
the death-bed of a Christian, as darkness im
pales the realms of earth, Heaven's light is
serene above, and soothes the perturbations of
the soul. The orb of day has sunk to rest,
the crimson sky has faded, night’s sable in
fluence rushes boldly up from her holes and
crannies, and all is apparently lost, when, be
hold ! the prospect brightens, the scenery of
Heaven is changed. It is Nature at her even
ing toilet. The dim and hazy curtains of the
past is rolled away, and tire bespangled livery
of night now decks the hour. How I love,
at such an hour, to move along the dusky
shore of the silver lake, till I reach the sum
mit of some unfrequented rock, and there,
alone, in the plentitude of melancholy feeling,
gaze abroad over its translucent bosom. How
beautiful to behold the anomaly of Heaven
above, reflecting so accurately a firmament be
low, that one would almost fancy himself sus
pended in mid-air. in the centre of a system
of interminable worlds! How lovely, then,
to see the little sail skimming into port, or to
mark the course of the light canoe splitting
the clear surface with a noiseless facility, and
disappearing as the shadow of a vision. I
have listened to the night-bird’s evening carol,
blended with the distant plash of the sturdy
oar. and thought it harmony. I have listened
to the zephyr and the boatman’s whistle, and
they were mu-ic to my ear; but I shall never
forget the hour when I first caught the
sound of the patriot's song over the waters.
The night was calm and till was still, when it
rose from the bosom of the bay. I looked
about me, and beheld I was alone, with
A boundless-Heaven, a beauteous sea,
A crescent moon, a little boat.
And the spirit of the song. ^
Three boatmen plied their oars, while three
mote stood erect, and my country’s ditty, with
the breathings of the flute, gave wings to the
light sea vessel. T hey reached their little
haven—the sound of the concert ceased—aud,
as an echo from a distant battlement, the
brazen.voice of midnight rose lonly on the
gale.
- —» m — —-—■
THE POPE'S AD VICE TO A PROTESTANT.
When Fredrika Bremer was in Rome, not
long ago, she visited the Pope and conversed
with him. As she left, Pius IX—she tells
us in her recent book—gave her this advice :
I will tell you something. Pray, pray for
light from the Lord, for grace to acknowledge
the truth; because this is the only means o(
attaing to it. Controversy will do no good.
In controversy make a parade of their knowl
edge, of their acuteness, and after all every
one continues to hold his own views. Prayer
alone gives light and strength for the acquire
ment of truth and grace. Pray everyday;
every night before you go to rest, and i hope
that grace and light may be given to you.
For God wishes that we should humble our
selves, and he gives his grace to the humble.
And now, God bless and keep you, for time
and eternity.” This pure priestly and fath
erly admonition was so beautifully and fer
vently expressed that it went to my heart, and
humbly, and with all my heart, l pressed the
hand paternally extended'toward me. That
it was the hand of the Pope did not embarrass
me in the slightest degree; for he was to mo
really at this moment the representative of
the Teacher who in life and doctrine preached
I humility, not before men but before God, and
I taught mankind to pray to Him. Tho Pope’s
i words were entirely true and evangetical. I
thanked him from my entire heart, and de
| parted more satisfied with him that myself.
I I had stood before him in my Protestant pride;
! hn had listened with patience, replied with
i Papal arrogance, but as a true Gospel teacher.
I parted from him with more humilty of spirit
than I had come.
-m • —
The Savannah Republican strongly urges
an extension of the terms of office-holders „
under the new Confederacy. It recommends
that the President bo elected for eight or ten
years, with a provision for his final retirement
on a pension at the expiration of his torn/; A
truly republican idea.