Newspapers / Franklin Observer (Franklin, N.C.) / June 22, 1860, edition 1 / Page 1
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sswrsdteik ta Religion-z Ttimpesräiicez Edncanom JAPANIan . ' · IT- - « . --·-"z K s f v - s ’ ! ,«. Zu F. 8ILEli,.i:Kdltors !c©EJJIE ITOftSE? HE®, Wl MOTiEJ ' - ’ _;___a_- ' • : 3.9 Terms: { $1 50 PER Strictly in ANNUM Advance. i VOLUME I. (FRANKLIN, NORTH CAROLINA, FRIDAY,, JUNJ E 22, 1860. NUMBER 48. * (franklin #b8tmr. PUBLISHED KVERY FRIDAY MORNING, IN THE TOWN OF FRANKLIN, MAC<£X COUNTY, NO. CA. a. f)Mce in the PtdAie Bvildiny Sojith of Court Ilouce. ^ Jn|Pi”l<^T‘''Ti ii ijffmfrtii ' 91 6® Per Annum—-Payment required invariably la advance. Kates of Advertising. t)ne 8quare of twelve lines or less, Scv enty-flvc 1 Cents for the first insertion, anil 25 Cents fur each - subsequent insertion. Lady Byron's Answer to Lord Byron's “Farewell.” Itt the whole range of English literature there is not, in our opinion,,a production, eith er in prose or Terse, that combines within it self more expression of feeling, more real, un spoken, earnest sentiment, than Lady Byron’s reply to her faithless rjiusband. Byron’s “Farewell" was an ironical bidding adieu to a heart he : wantonly crushed. But Lady B. has, in defending herself front his irony, “turn ed the tables” on him most completely. Her reply is scathing, and must have “cut” Byron “to the quick.” We call special attention to the proud and noble defiance expressed in the \ last verse. The poent has doubtless been read by all our readers—but it will repay another perusal.—Memphis 1’nq. Yes! farewell—farewell forevet! Thou thyself hast fixed our doom, Bade Hope’s fairest blossoms wither, Nerer again for me to b'loom. Unforgiving thou hast called me-— Didst thou ever say forgive? For the wretch whose wiles beguiled thee. Thou alone didst seem to live. Short the space which time has given To emnplcte thy loveV decay; By unhallowed passions driven, Soon that heart was taught to stray. Lived for me that feeling tender Which thy verse so well can show, From my arms why didst thou wander? My endearments why forego? Oh! too late thy breast was bared, j Oh! too soon to me ’twas shown, That thy love l once but shared, And already it is flown. ; Wrapt in dreams for joy abiding, On thy breast my head hath lain, In thy love and truth confiding, t Bliss I ne’er can knbw again. The dark hour did first discover In thy soul the hideous stain— Would those eyes had closed forever, Ne’er to weep tLy crimes again. But the impious wish, 0, heaven! , From the record blotted be; Yes, I yet would live, O, Byron, For the babe I’ve borne for thee! In those lovely features (let me All my weakness here confess, Whilst the struggling tears permit me,) , All the father’s I can trace— He whose image never leaves me, He whose image still I prize, Who this bitterest feeling gives me, Still to lore where I despise. With regret and sorrow rather, When our child's first accents flow, I will teach her to say Father, But his guilt she ne'er shall know. Whilst to-morrow and to-morrow Wakes me from a widowed bed; On another’s arms, no sorrow Wilt thou feel, no tear wilt shed. Idie world’s Approval sought not, When I tore myself from thee; Of its praise or blame I thought not— What’s its praise or blame to me? Ho so prized—so loved—adored, From my heart his image drove, On my head contempt has pouredj And preferred a wanton’s love. Thou art proud; but mark me, Byron, I’ve a heart proud as thine own; Soft to love but hard as iron When contempt is o’er it thrown; But, farewell!—I’ll not upbraid thee, Never, never wish thee ill; Wretched though thy crimes have made me, If thou canst, be happy still. tihrowthof Memphis:—In ten years, from 1850 to 1860, the city of Memphis has increased in population from 5,280 to 35,000. '-- »■«---L— A Heavy Load of Debt.—The Pe tersburg (Va.) Intelligencer says that the debt of Virginia amounts to $48,000, 000, with no prospect of diminution. M,. ■ • ' | ' ■ ! ' . I _ -""1 " - - ?fa For the Franklin Observer. Preachers of the Holston Conference .THE. BEAD. Messrs J2d#6fa(4aL hgcTit in my mind for sometime, towrTFe a series of short articles, for the Observer, with the view of giving its. readers an account of the preachers! of Hol ston Conference. I cannot think of any thing, about which to write, that would , be more likely to afford interest to the readers, and en hance the prosperity of your mountain paper more, than the one I have selected. ' A sense of incompetcncy to “do any thing like justice to the subject which I have chosen, has, up to this trine, kept my pen still. The venture is now made, under a due spnse of all that is promised, by implication, ip the an nouncement of the subject; and your readers are besought for their clemency. [ My recollection of the preachers of the Holston Conference goes back spine forty years; and I can now call up—vividly call up— quite a number of round-breasted coats, broad brimmed hats, white-flowing locks, &c., which were the property, and I add, adornment of holy and highly-gifted men of God, wpo, years since, were gathered to th‘’r fathers, and, since then, have rested with their; Savior.— Of a number of these I propose to; speak in my series, taking them as nearly inf their pr der as I can. Perhaps, I ought to saj', in entering upon my work, that I do net intend to confine my self to the traveling ministry of the Confer ence. I honor the locality too highly, to a’ low me to do so. SAMUEIi' WAT J ON. Samuel Watson was a ,local preacher, but he was only such in name, for he traveled very extensively, over the hill country of;East Ten ncssee, holding two days’ meetings, and attend- j ingquarterly and campmeetings. Both preach ! ers and people, according to my recollection, were more active, and could get farther from home on errands of mercy, in the dajfs of which I now speak, than they seem disposed to be or do now-a-days. A proacher, in thosp days, was such in fact, not inertly in name. In calliug up things of my earliest recollec tion, there comes up among them a man about sixty years of age;, some five feet eight inches bight; hair of a black color, interspersed with frosted locks, and rather thin on the forehead; frame well-proportioned, heavy set, ja little in clined to corpulency; a large chest; a luscious eye; broad face and forehead; a somewhat pro truded, wide mouth; features rather coarse, but evincing thought fulness .and intelligence. I see him ascend the pulpit, in the church where I first beard preaching. He'.bows be fore his Maker. In deep earnestness he pleads with the preacher's only sufficient Aid. Now he reads his Bible lesson,—aye, he reads it like every minister should do,—iin a manner that makes his audience feel that God speaks in his word of truth. The hymn isigiven out. The audience sing—not one in ten lor twenty. What music! No marvel, that Methodists were called singers in those days. The pray er is offered; and such a prayer it is;—-Heaven seems to bend, and lift up the .audience from its rnin. The text is announced, j All is done in a manner that impresses the whole1 congre gation with the belief that no ordinary man is about to preach. The passage selected is, “We are right well able to go up and possess the goodly land;” or, “They that Sow in tears, shall reap in joy;” or, “He that goeth forth, and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing bringing his sheaves with him;” or one moire awful.— “The great day of his wrath is cofnef and who shall be able to stand?” He sets out on the proper key*; but every word is heard distinct ly. He rises, as he proceeds; his;soul enters with his strong intellect into the subject.— There are no smoothly rounded periods; no aim is made to force Bhetoric to do what none but God can perform; ingrammatkisms are not wholly Wanting, but they are few, and such as are hardly noticed in the midst of his soul stirring sentences, which “move, and live, and liave their being” in the Holy Ghost. His voice is trumpet-like,—not sweet and smooth; but, still, there is eloquence—the eloquence of truth and heaven-inspired pathos,4~it is such eloquence as accompanies the successive peals of thunder, as the lightning leaps from cloud to cloud, and the “Storm King's” voice is heard, warning all.who are exposed to seek for shelter. On either of the ; first texts, named above, he encourages God’s people, and especially His ministers. The land of promise is spread out before you. It is gra phically described, with its flowing1 streams of milk and honey. The road thither is plainly shown, as marked out in the Chart of Chris Y 1 v tianity. 'fjfie enemies between the traveler to Canaan and the opening gates of Zion are not kept hidden, nor are they represented as being few and feeble,—far otherwise they are por trayed as giants. But, just as the faint-heart ed are getting ready to retreat, the God.of bat tles is sfeo^TD^:t^|lking in the greatn^s of Ills strength';* the blazing pillar of fire is seen amidst the darkness; or the guiding cloudy throwing its shadowy wing over Israel’s hosts: the command is given, in God’s name, to move forward, and enter the promised land; and, ever and anon,one is seen tostep into the posses sion of his reward. Or the scediuan is seen, it may be, sowing his seed under many discouragements, while tears, like rain-drops, water the precious de posit. Soon the waving harvest is shown, as it bends to the sickle; and the man who went out in the mourner’s garb is seen “re turning,” “bearing his sheaves with him.” If the last text named be the subject, the day of judgment is brought right before the audience. We not only see the final close of time, but also a living universe, in conster nation assembled, and, as the preacher culls out the sinners—unable to stand,—you fear none will pass the ordeal. Sinners shriek^ saints even look sad, till ho, at the close, throws the promises, as food, to the faithful.— Such was Samuel Watson. He sleeps in East Tennessee. Peace to his dust. TRAVELER. lhe Marriage of the First Bern. The hell.founded. Adieus were has tily exchanged and loving kisses imprin ted on rosy lips, and still fonder parting words trembled on other tongues, which must not, could not he spoken, and she was left, the bride of an hour, to be hur ried—whither? The gay party of attendants were driv en through the crowded streets, tho la dies escorted to their homes by their gallant cavaliers, and they in tum con ducted to their respective place of busi ness, each wondering, and perhaps wish ing that the next to be united bv Hy men’s silken tie may be himself and the fair being who so lately leaned blushing ly on his supporting arm. Happy they who in the act ot plighting behold only the reflection of their own joys, and hear only the echo of their golden marriage bells! Turn we now from the careless specta tor who, in offering his congratulations, forgets the parties, and returns to his home and accustomed duties, to contem plate another home from which the light has departed, in the marriage of the first born. How desolate uow appears the old homestead as the family returns from the nuptials to wander through the halls and chambers where her footfall once re-, sounded! and how silent as contrasted witlr the hurry of preparation which pre ceded the bridal! Then there were smiles and tender words, and swift feet, and ready hands, .to do the bidding of the bride elect. How each vies with the other in those delicate attentions, inten sified by the thought that soon the ser vices it is his privilege to render, will no longer be required at his hands ! that she who lias grown up in their midst, will soon leave them, to gladden the heart of another ! Now, what has been but an anticipation, has become a reali ty, and the silence which seals the lips, and the sadness which sits on the faces, and lowers still more heavily in the chambers of (he soul, testifies to the men auu me nvw. The marriage of the first born! How the mother’s heart swells with emotion, as she realizes, as only a mother can, the recently assumed responsibilities of her chihl. She knows what it is to go from the paternal protection to the sheltering wings of another, and can we wonder she .has misgivings as to her darling's future? that fears lest the clouds of adversity should obscure, should mingle with her hopes, that the sunshine of prosperity may ever illume her pathway through life? she feels the import of the words “in sickness and in health,” and has been taught by experience how much the bitter and the sweet- commingle in the life portion. Can we censure her that he: eyes are surcharged with tears and her heart burned with sorrow? The father returns to his noonday meal and misses the kindly voice which was woDt to greet him. At the table, the vacant seat speaks eloquently in praise of the absent, and the manly heart can scarce repress a sigh as he remembers that his home is her’s no more. How oft do the words, “till death do us part,” floated carelessly on the sister’s ears in season of festivity and rejoicing, awakening no emotion in their bosoms. Nowit brings a strain of reflection which unseals tbe fountain of pent up feelings so long t ortft4fpa88ionft t e sobs. reeaU^tlie hc*uis ot chili lov&iSsprppBnicmbtn, l smile, and lightens the burden of The other by a cheering word. They realize, as they could not before, “the wealth and worth' of that love she has pledged, and the stability of that truth she lias plight ed to the husband of her youth, “till death do us part,” and with the solemn words, a prayer is wafted heavenward, that when the hour of separation does come, apd the toils of life are ended, they may be accounted worthy to enter upon “tie rest that remains,’ and lie re united, “W^crc marriage vows are i ever spoken,” to part no more, no more forever! There's an unwonted tenderness in the ton^s of the little brothers ns they speak ol their “sister,” Their cadences are soft and low, as if it were a profana tion to litter that lelovrd name in a scarce audible voice. They miss her caresses and sisterly offices as they return home from school or from their Btreet sports, and their mirth is chastened by the thoight that they hear no more her words otWelcome. Yes, !ih spite of all cur effort's, the shadow! will creep around our hearts and the darkness will gather over our borne, although we-know our' loved one is basking'in the radiapee of an affection purer and holier lhan parents, “sisters or brothers can bestow. Nature has doned her mo$t gorgeous robes in honor of the bridal, but over the enchanted circle of heme breeds “the spirit of heaviness.”— The sun is pouring his beams over the earth, but they linger not on the dar kened threshold. The voice of music is eloquent without", l>ut jours are tuneless, and there is no heart response to the echoes that they awake. Oh! there is a sadness in the marriage cf the first born. But there is joy also in the marriage of the first borr. Imagination portrays anothej house in which she is the presi ding genius—another chamber to be lighted by the sunshine of her presence —another manly heart to be encour aged and strengthened for the battle of life by her loving sympathy. And oh ! is there not joy unspeakable in this, that all through the vicissitudes of life, a warm, noble heart has pledged to her protection the ajgb of ljis luve? Keeping the Teeth Clean— Microsco pical examinations, says the Scientific American, have been made of the mat ter deposited on the teeth and gum's of more than forty individuals from all classes of society, in every variety of bodily con dition, and in nearly every instance ani mal and vegelable parasites have been found. In fact, the only persons whose mouths were found to be completely free of them, cleansed their teeth tour times daily, using soap. One or two of these individuals also passed a thread between the teeth to cleanse them more effectu ally. In all cases the number of para sites was greater in proportion to the neglect of cleanliness. The effect of the application of various agents was also noticed. Tobaccojuice and smoke did not injure their vitality in the least.— Xhe same was true of the chlorine tooth wash, of pulverized bark, of soda, am monia, and various other popular deter gents. The application of soap, howevfer, appears to destroy them instantly. We may hence infer that this is the best and most specific remedy for teeth. In all cases the number of parasites was greater in proportion to the neglect, of cleanli ness. It may be proper toadd that none but the purest white Castile soap should be used. Not at Leisure.—I have read of one that presented Antipator, King of Macedou, with a book that treated of happiness; he refused it, saying, “I ana not at leisure.” Many have the book by them—yea, presented to them by Christ—that treats of everlasting happiness, but they slight the present; “I am not at leisure,’ say they. They have opportunity of hearing the Word opened on week days, as well as Sabbath days, but they are not at lei sure. They have motgis of knowledge for hearing the same Word, put they are not at leisure. They take leisure to their own work, their worldly work—yea; for idle conversa tion ; but they have no leisure for God’s work, —their bouI’s work, eternal work! Reader, have you leisure to be saved? or are you will ing to continue in the bustle of the World, neglect saltation, and bo damned ?—Ralph Ershne. ! j CLEAXIXG THE UPS. No feature in the face of a child i8 lovelier than the lips, with rows of peat* Jy teeth playing hide and seek behind thei vain, say what is coarse and impure, forgetting that this, also, is sin. We knew a dear old lady who many years ago taught a little private school in a New-England town. Her heart was pure, and therefore her words were sweet. She loved the blessed Saviour, and cared most tenderly for the lambs of his fold. She seemed to live iu the little children’s world^rejoicing and suffering with them. She hud always something pleasant to say, and a flower or kiss to give; so that the scholars loved the school house next best to “mother’s room” at home. They never had to be sent to school, But ran oil cheerfully before nine o’clock that they might speak to her before the' little bell rang. She believed what Sol omon said about the “rod of correction;” but, in some way, she got along with out using it very often. Once her heart was deeply wounded by hearing that a little fellow had spoken unclean words when out at play. When forced to pun ish very little ones, she used to take them oh her lap; but as Master Charlie was nine years old, she called him to stand before her. Taking both his hands between her own, and looking into his blue eyes she tsltd, “Have you been using wicked words to-day, mv dear?” “I didn’t siccarwhimpered Char lie, ' 5 “Are you willing to go home, and re peat all you have said in your mother’s presence?” Charlie hung his head and colored deeply, and whispered, “No ma'am, be cause it would grieve her.” . “And have yon forgotten my dear boy that one who is far holier than she, has heard in heaven- the naughty words which came from those little lips to-day? I am afraid there is something unclean in your heart; but, as I cannot reach lhat myself, I will abk Jesus to do. it; I can reach your lips; and as I’m sure they are not fit to give your mother the good night kiss, nor to say your prayers I will cleanse them for you. She then took from her desk a bowl of water, a tiny hit of soap, ar.d a small sponge, and, bidding Charlie open his mouth, she washed it well—teeth, tongue, lips and all! She then wiped them dry with a soft napkin, and bathed his tear stain ed face, on which she pressed the kiss of forgiveness. This simple punishment and the real sorrow of her who inflicted itj made a deeper impression on the minds of -her scholars. . Charlie is now almost a man but never, since that day, has an impure word escaped his lips. At the very thought of such a word, he fancies that he tfisies soap; and that lie hears again the gentle rebuke of his first teacher. Children “Fashionably” Dressed.— The absurd fashion af exposing children of tender yeais to the keen out-door air with but half the necessary protection which their little arms and legs require, is still so prevalent as to require a word of comment. It is true, fond mother, that your chubby three-j’ear old boy is finely modelled as the Cupid of Canova is, but the pleasure yon darivc in know ing that other people admire the grace fur round ness of those limbs will never compensate you for the anguish and watchings which yon will experience when he is attacked with croup or the terrific scarlet fever. Strong ipen find it impossible to spend half their time in the heated houses of civilized society, and then go out of doors with thinly .clad ex tremities without catching allthecrampr that flesh is heir to. No one but a high landed used to the sky for a canopy and the heather for a bed, can go barelegged with impunity in northern {attitudes and changeful Bpring and fall seasons. Yet we daily see little boys and girls dressed in the shortest ofclothes, with bare knees and arms reddened and chapped by the cold. Hundreds of innocents die j’early from this very cause*alone. A Sad Tale.—A. five dollar note came into the possession of a citizen of Wash ington, on Monday, with the following endorsement:—“This is the last of $20, 000 spent in gambling in the fashiona ble bells" of Washington. Yonng men into whose hands this may fall, beware of dissipation, drunker ness, and i gamb ling.” \ ANCIENT RCINS IN THE UNITED STATES. A new stimulus is likefy to be given to American archaeology by a discovery recently made some ninety miles north east of Fort Stanton, a long account of ‘ “ appeared in the;Fdrt cent halls, slopes gradually eas wards the river Pescos, and is very fer tile, crossed by a gurgling stream of the purest water, that cot only sustains ft rich vegetation, but perhaps furnished with this necessary clement the thou sands who onco inhabited this present wilderness. The city was probably built by a warlike race, as it is quadrangular and arranged with skill to afford (lie highest buildings on the outer line being pierced with loop holes, as though calcu lated for the use of weapons. Several of the buildings are of vast size, and built of massive blocks of dark granite rock, which could only have been wrought to their present condition by a vast amount of labor. There are the ruins of three noble edifices, each presenting a front of three hundred feet made of ponderous blocks of stone; and the dilapidated walls; are even now thir ty-five feet high. Tjiere are no parti tions in the apex of the middle (suppos ed) temple, so that room must have been vast; and there are also carvings in bas-relief and fresco work. Appearances justify the conclusion that these silent ruins could once boast of halls as gor geously decorated by the artist,s hand as those of Thebes and Palmyra. The buildings are all loop-holed in each side, much resembling that found iu the old feudal castles of Europe, de signed for Che use of archers. The blocks Qf which these edifices are com posed are cemented together by a spe cies of mortar of a bituminous charac ter, which has such tenacity that vest masses of wall have fallen down with out the block#- beisg detached by the shock. We hope ere long to be favored with full and descriptive particulars, as it is probable that vitits> and examin ations will be made turn ngst such inter esting relics of the unknown past, by some of the United States officers at tached to the nearest fort; A Gay Lothario.—John iVerson, was recently arrested and imprisoned tit the South, for aggravated polygamy; He had thirteen wives. The daughter of the jailor whose hospitality this insatiable polygamist wras enjoying while awaiting trial believed him innocent, pitied him, opened the prison doors, fled With him, and became his fourteenth Wife: After eight days of dtmeBtic bliss the husband disappeared, and left neither trace tfor money bihind. A reward Was offered for his capture; a description of his fas* cinatipg person was circulated; he Was recognized in a village tavern by a man who thought of the reward offered, and set about preparing bis toils for the Vic* tim. ' In order to instil confidence into his breast, he made his acquaintance* invi* ted him to his mansion, and then went (ff to procure legal assistance. When he returned, his home was deserted alike by his intended prey.and his own wife, whom Iverson, had led astray. A wretch ed man suggests that a proper-, though a terribly severe punishment Wotild Ire to compel this polygamist to live With his fifteen wives at once. An Unexampled Railroad Feat.—Mr. Haughlin, foreman of the machine Shops of the Michigan Central Railroad, ac* complished a feat at Michigan city with the trkin carrying delegates to the Chi cago Convention, which is Well deserving of mention.. At Michigah fiity it is ne cessary to change engihes, and in order not to lose time the train was run up* Hr track at fifteen miles an hour, the engine then being uncoupled and run at * a faster speed on to a siding, the switch was replaced in time, and the cars dash ed along up the main lino to the engine waiting to take it to Chicago. Moving at nearly the same speed as the cars, it was coupled to the tra|n, and plunged,1 along with its load. Uncoupling and switching a locomotive, and coupling on another at fifteen miles an hour, is cer tainly a very remarkable engineering ac complishment, “Have you any traveling inkstands?" asked a lady of a young stationer. “No Ma'am, we have them with feet and legs, but they are not old enough to travel yet.” Do good with what thou hast, or it will do thee no good.
Franklin Observer (Franklin, N.C.)
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June 22, 1860, edition 1
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