“what is the matter—what have I done?” 
“ Please, dear Miss Margaret, leave us 
for a few minutes. T have seen him this 
way many times before," said Bitaan, lean¬ 
ing his head upon her bosom and gently 
smoothing his forehead. 
Woixlerlngly Margaret walked out of 
the room, but not until she had, seen that 
the whole soul of t he slave was centered in 
the man by her side, and that Brayton, 
too,- 
H ere M ARO A ret had to stop. She did not 
dare go on. Bkayton’s honor she was sure 
of—she loved him for her father's sake and 
respected him for his own—and whatever 
his secret, sin- felt sure there was nothing 
wrong about it. Mr. Bratton had con¬ 
sented to remain with the HeatherrtoNES 
until the Colonel's afl'nlrs were settled, and 
Margaret went to sleep wondering how it 
would ail end. 
DESOLATIONS, 
friend,” replied Alfred. “ Come with me 
down stairs, Hannibal! I shall want 
you," and the two men proceeded on 
their painful errand. 
But why dwell upon the dreadful scene ? 
Mrs. 11E at u E ROTON F. fainted — Margaret 
grew stolid. Not a sigh or moan escaped 
her. She assisted Busan in restoring her 
mother to consciousness, apparently as self- 
possessed as ever. .She seemed literally to 
have no feeling. Mr. Bratton looked at 
her in dismay, ile understood it all. “If 
she could but weep,” he thought: but no; 
tears and M argaret IIkatjif.rstone, what¬ 
ever their relations in the past had been, 
had now nothing in common. “ Died ol 
heart disease," was the verdict of the coro¬ 
ner’s jury. This Margaret listened to 
from the lips of Mr. 1Jhayton, whose heart 
yearned toward the bereaved girl with all 
the yearning of a brother; but this failed 
to rouse her. Night had settled down upon 
the mansion. Mrs. Hkatmehstone. under 
the influence of a strong narcotic, adminis¬ 
tered by her physician, slept peacefully. 
Margaret had expressed no wish to look 
upon her father, and seemed desirous of 
avoiding, as far as possible, all mention of 
his name. 
“ Don’ you tink, my dear tittle Sunshine, 
dat you'd bes’ take hold of old IIanni hal's 
hand and go up stairs Avid he and see how 
buful her pa be looking?” said tin' negro, 
stealing into the sitting room where Mar¬ 
garet *at by the window looking out, un¬ 
mindful of the presence of her lover and 
brother, who bad been vainly endeavoring 
to draw from her tome expression of sorrow 
or resignation. 
“ Tie is dead, Hannibal,” she replied, 
softly. “ I can do him no good,” 
“ How you know dat, brassed chile? Be¬ 
cause de precious Lord done gone take the 
fader to his self, for sum good reason anuder 
(Hannibal not portend to understand dent 
reasons), is it right to tink dat dem he lab 
de best on de earth or in de hebens can be 
no more good to he? Why, bress de chile's 
heart! Hannibal jus >|>ec di- minute dat 
dear old tnassa bestan’ing in dis room smil¬ 
ing at do little girl, and wondering what 
make she Keep away from the body she used 
to bib so well!” 
• Oh. Hannibal!" sighed the girl, lean¬ 
ing toward him, and then, after a moment 's 
silence, ri dug, apparently undecided what 
lodo: "Give me your hand. Hanniral," 
she continued, “we will go to my father.” 
The scene In that room no mortal pen 
could adequately describe. Tears came, 
comfort cache, uud Margaret, her little 
for, after all, t he South is mv country.” 
I foresee," said Maggie,*** that you will 
all go—even the slaves will be scattered. O 
Alfred! why did father die?” and the 
young girl threw herself into her brother’s 
arms, shaken w ith irrepressible sobs. 
Three days after George expressed his 
determination to his mother, he was gone, 
and the house was doubly desolate. As 
IIanniiial said: 
“ Sunshine herself be Sunshine no more. 
But bress de .Loro,” the old negro contin¬ 
ued, “ he only hide he face a while: de light 
of he countenance shine again oil dis troub¬ 
lous household. De clouds not last always; 
dat not in do order of tings. Take a good 
deal ob light to disum pate dis storm. Mis¬ 
sus herself one big black cloud. But de 
Lord all light, and what de use ob doubt¬ 
ing? Borne tings grow- better in de shade. 
‘Spect Hannibal one ob dose plants, lie's 
had shade most ob de time, anyhow. Dis 
old nigger not mind de darkness so much 
for hcself, but when de skv all full ob do 
thunder and de ligbtnin, and he see de ohil- 
len. widcut anybody to help, it take all he 
faith.” Margaret interrupted this mono¬ 
logue by suddenly going into the cabin 
where Hannibal sat bent over the tire. 
“ What's that about faith ? dear Hanni¬ 
bal.” 
"Hannibal was saying dat much faith 
needed to keep de. bnurt up in deso times: 
and dat it 'quired more when de missus an’ 
de ohillcns in trouble dan when Hannibal 
heself hab de clouds,” 
“ That's because you are so unselfish, dear 
Hannibal.” 
"Not so much dat as because Hannibal 
lean on de breast ob de dear Massa Jests, 
and get what, he need for heself. Hanni¬ 
bal hab nothing in dis world, neber 'spect 
nothing, so it be quite natural dat he go 
straight to he dear friend in de hebben. 
H annibal don't say dat de joy in dis world 
need to keep de heart from de Saviour, 
but he say it mos’ gen ally do. Dis poor ole 
slave hab no fear for any ob de peoples in 
dis house, if dey once find den* way to de 
Loan's breast. It be so much better dan 
all else, dev miss nothing any more.” 
" Why, Hannibal, we should miss our 
dear friends when they leave us, no matter 
how near we get to ,T f.suk." 
"Dey not lobe you, dat’s de good ting 
about, it. I)e loving Saviour he keep all. 
your friends, and if you in he arms dere’s 
you all do re together. Don’t you see chile?” 
"Yes, 1 see, Hannibal. If we could get 
there and stay there. How do you keep so 
near to Christ, Hannibal?” 
"Spects as I done toll you little missus, 
I got nothing else. Hannibal’ bliged logo 
to de dear Lord years ago, and when he 
once got inside dose dear arms, he neber 
want to lebe.—[To be continued. 
'* Comk, behold the. works of the Lord, what deso¬ 
lation?. He hath made Sn the earth."—Ps. xlvi.,8. 
The great Goo treadeth on the earth 
And workelh desolations; 
A hush is on the human heart, 
A hush is on the nations ; 
And through the peoples’ quietude. 
And through the hearts’ appalling. 
There cornea a voice of majesty 
Upon the terror falling ; 
“ Be still, for I am GOD.” 
A vast empire Is in the dust. 
Two nations’ hearts lie bleeding. 
And pallid hands, in anguish raised, 
Teli of the human needing. 
The power that claimed a throne in Heaven 
Is hurled hi earth and broken ; 
“ I’ll be exulted in the earth ” 
Th’ eternal Word hath spoken— 
“ Be still, for I am GOD.” 
Dread famine sits on Persia’s shore 
And glut* on human vitals, 
And pestilence attends his steps; 
Thus agony's requitals : 
The tempest wakes the hurricane; 
War famine ; famine fever; 
But still the voice from Heaven comes 
To every meek believer, 
“ Bo still, for 1 am God.” 
The breath of death grown thick and hot. 
Earth’s glory he Is claiming; 
The proud Queen City of the West 
Beneath his glnnee is flaming, 
And flash, and crash, and flying brands 
Mark falling tower and steeple. 
Until she sltteth desolate 
That was so full of people. 
Bo still, there is a God. 
The air grows hotter, denser still; 
Westward the curse is rushing, 
And forest trees, and homes, and hopes, 
Neath sheets of flame are crushing. 
The wild horse neighs, tosses his head. 
Rushes into the burning. 
Desolate lives and anguished souls 
Are to the Smiter turning. 
Be still, for He is God. 
Chicago lies a blackened mass; 
The regal West sits weeping, 
Virginia’s grasses lowly creep 
Where hero hearts are sleeping. 
So desolation’s ear rolls on, 
While human hearts lie under, 
And bleeding, mangled, agonized, 
Give answer to Gnu’s thunder : 
“ Be still, for I am GOD." 
Fay Voy. 
VI. Entering the Army. 
It was an ill time for dreaming dreams or 
for brooding either joy or sorrow. What¬ 
ever hopes might have been cherished as to 
the peaceful endingof the secession threat; 
whatever certainty might have been enter¬ 
tained (hat the other States would frown 
upon the hasty action of South Carolina, 
t here was no longer much room for doubt as 
to the result. During January, Florida, 
Alabama, Georgia and Louisiana passed se¬ 
cession ordinances. The surrender of Fort 
Ho inter was demanded by Gov. Pickens. 
The whole North was in a ferment. The 
President issued a cull for volunteers, and 
the country began in earnest t o make pre¬ 
parations for war. Now the real heart of 
tlie Nation, both North nod Houth, began to 
how i; - ii 
Men had been speculators, 
slave holders, merchants, manufacturers, 
students, writers, artists, but separate in¬ 
terests were all fused in tin* intense heat 
that the passion of the South had generated, 
and every good citizen was first a patriot- a 
man of affairs afterward. Now wus the time 
for enthusiasm and for sacrifice. Young 
men in college* and workshops heard the 
sudden call "to arms,” and books and work 
were thrown aside. In households all over 
the laud, wives looked at their husbands, 
and mothers at their sons, with strange fore¬ 
bodings, and in an hour a nation of traders 
and artisans and fanners became a nation of 
warriors. What mouths of training would 
not have done for hirelings, a few weeks did 
for these men who fought, as each t bought, 
for a sacred principle, so wonderful is the 
power of the soul in great, crises to use the 
physical according to its will. February 
and March passed rapidly, and April saw 
the surrender of Sumter, and the march of 
Northern troops to the defense of the Capi¬ 
tal. Every week the excit ement grew more 
intense, and the fact could no longer be ig¬ 
nored that war was Inaugurated, never to 
cease until North or South was conquered. 
It was painfully evident to the family that 
GEORGE could not. much longer lie prevent¬ 
ed from joining tile volunteer troops everv 
day* leaving their homes for the prep.a rat (oha 
of battle. Skirmishes were frequent all over 
the St ate, and every new account seemed to 
inspire the boy’s heart with courage and 
determination to act his part in the gigant ic 
drama of his country. All in vain did Mrs. 
HEATHER8TONE plead her lonely and wid¬ 
owed positi on. 
" Wliut of that, mother?” he replied, one 
day, a* with a burst of tears she sunk back 
among her sofa pillows exhausted. ** Father 
knew, weeks before he died, that 1 should 
enlist. Indeed, ( am sure lie desired it. ff 
he could speak to you now, 1 know his first 
words would be ‘Let him go.’ f am ashamed 
to remain home another day. I don't fancy 
the name of coward, mother!—do you? I 
should t hink you would much rather your 
son would be shot than to know he shrank 
from duty when Ids Country needed him.” 
" Oh. George! " sobbed the poor woman. 
“ You have Alfred and Margaret, and 
I have no doubt but I can run home often to 
see you. If I enlist under General Ma- 
gruder, I shan't be so very far away, you 
know," and then starting up with sudden 
determination, continued. “ I am going-any 
way, so there; and T am going very soon, 
too. The quicker the thing is done the 
quicker it will be oier with;” and he left 
the room, to all appearance utterly lcgard- 
less of the moans of his mother. Not so. 
The poor boy’s heart ached as it never 
ached before. But he did not relent. lie 
made his preparations steadily and rapitjlv, 
and with an enthusiasm that nothing couid 
chill. To the joyous, ardent imaginat ion of 
the boy a war was a series of brilliant 
tournaments. There would be opportunity 
for great deeds, for daring, for victory mid 
laurels. The very danger wooed him. for 
there was that within him which longed for 
expression in heroic action. Maiigaret 
saw all, and said nothing. She followed her 
brother with her wistful eyes, her heart full 
of f ore bod i ig and sorrow*. Alfred tried 
hard to comfort his mother, but she w*ould 
not be comforted. George was her pet, 
her idol. She thought it very cruel that he 
should leave her so soon after his father’s 
death, and nobody could make her feel that 
another ray of sunlight would ever enter 
her life. At this time Alfred and Mar¬ 
garet were almost constantly together. 
Mrs. Heathekstone lay on her sofa from 
morning till night, requiring Susan’s con¬ 
stant attention, and seemingly better satis¬ 
fied with her society thau with her chil¬ 
dren’s. Susan would listen by the hour to 
her mistress’ lamentations, and the weak, 
stricken woman seemed only to derive com¬ 
fort from telling her t roubles over and over. 
"Alfred,' said Margaret the day be¬ 
fore George went away, “ shall you go into 
the army?” 
"God only knows, Maggie; at present 
my duty seems to lie here with you and 
mother. I hope, with everybody, that the 
struggle will be short. But* the South may 
TRUTH BRIEFLY EXPRESSED, 
In regard to the True Value of Life, the 
greater portion of mankind arc mistaken. 
They often suppose the true value of life to 
consist In acquiring rirhes, ami in seizing 
the pleasures of the world. The greater 
portion of mankind are by no means deep 
thinkers. They look not ai both sides of 
the question, und consequently they are, to 
a great extent, blinded. A man may be 
wealthy, and at t he same time know* nothing 
about the true value of life. He may be 
successful in accomplishing every worldly 
desire, and after all be a poor, pitiable crea¬ 
ture. And, on the other hand, he may be 
unsuccessful in almost everything that per¬ 
tains to the world, and appreciate the true 
value of life. Those who enlist under the 
banner of Jesus Christ realize the true 
value of life. Those who are grieved because 
they have neglected their duty, realize that 
Honor and fume will eorao to nought, 
When lire -hall have expired; 
And happiness, then, mist he sought, 
For that is all’s required. 
Todd Co., Ky„ 1872. q. d. g. 
EGYPTIAN MAXIMS. 
Do not put on airs. I)o not maltreat an 
inferior; respect the aged, Do not save 
thy life at the expense of another's. Do 
not peivert the heart of thy comrade if it 
is pure. Do not make sport of those wlio 
are dependent upon t hee. Do not maltreat 
a woman whose strength is less than thine 
own; let her find in thee a protector. If 
from an humble condition thou hast be¬ 
come powerful, and the first in the city for 
opulence, let not riches make thee proud, 
for the first author of these good things is 
God. If thou art intelligent bring up thy 
son in the love of God. If he is courageous, 
uclive, and increases thy property, give 
him the better recompense; but if the son 
whom thou hast begotten is a fool, do not 
turn away thy heart from him, for he is 
thy son. 
What a Wife Should Resemble.—T he 
Spaniards have a saying that a wife should 
resemble three things, and yet differ from 
these same things. First. She should be 
like a snail, which always guards its house, 
but she should not carry the house with her 
whenever she goes out. Second. She should 
be like an echo, which speaks only after the 
other is finished, but the should not always 
have the last word. Third. She should be 
like the town clock, which alwavs sounds 
the hours with regularity, but she should 
not sound so loud that the whole town shall 
hear it. 
The popular notions that, at the day of 
judgment, the past life of each shall be ex¬ 
hibited before men and angels, do not seem 
to be either morally valuable, or likely, as 
far as we can judge, to be literally true. In 
that other world those who feel rightly will 
have no wish for, and take no pleasure in, 
the concealment of anything about them¬ 
selves, and would feel nothing but pain at 
the revelation of the sins and weaknesses of 
others. Who, then, at this great audit, will 
be the spectators of whom we are to be 
ashamed? Such epectatorship, unsympa¬ 
thizing, and prepared for a merely human 
and curious interest, for triumph and con¬ 
tempt, belongs to earth, not to heaven.— 
Grote. 
Are You Square with the World?— 
” Farmer " discusses the question, and says: 
" A person in debt is a slave to his credit¬ 
ors. No man is truly happy so loug as debt 
hovers over him.” He commends the Chi¬ 
nese custom of going around the first month 
of each year and settling up squarely with 
all with whom they have had dealings the 
year past. In our judgment, so far as it 
is possible, is is better to end the year with 
no unsettled accounts, and begin the year 
resolved not to have any at its close. 
Trials.— Trials must move us; but how 
is left for us to decide. If we let them 
alone like huge boulders they will keep heap¬ 
ing up. forming a groat barrier between us 
and God. Let ns put them, one by one, as 
they come, beneath our feet, and we will 
find them lifting us higher out of life’s 
stormy billows, into the pure, sunlit at¬ 
mosphere of heaven .—Rose Gcranmm. 
Choice of a Wife. — Dr. Franklin 
recommends a young man. in the choice of 
a wife, to select her from a bunch, giving as 
his reason, that when there are many daugh¬ 
ters they improve each other, and from 
emulation acquire more accomplishments, 
and know more, and do more than a single 
child spoiled by paternal fondness. This is 
a comfort to people with large families, 
The Christiiyi needs a reminder every 
hour ; some defeat, surprise, adversity, 
peril; to be agitated, mortified, beaten out 
of his course, so that all remains of self will 
be sifted out.— Dr. BuafmcU. 
