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The South of this generation is a new South, but new just as the sturdy sapling is new that springs from the same soil and the same root when the parent tree has been felled by the woodman's axe. The old and the new, and yet the same.

The nation that takes up arms against the flag of the Union will find that Southern men, cheered on by Southern women, will join the charge with their Northern brothers, and vie with them in such deeds of heroism as the world has never seen before. But loyalty to that flag does not require treason in act or speech to the memory of "our storm-cradled nation that fell." Brave men of the North will have a contempt for such subserviency.

Now, my friends, with such ruins and memories behind us, and with rich, glowing hopes before us, why should we not love this good old State of Georgia?

I love her for her thriving plains and her desolate, scarred old hills; for her crystal fountains and her gently flowing rivers. I love her for her golden sunlight and for the balmy air we breathe, and for the zephyrs that play around us. I love her for the noble hearts and brilliant intellects of her sons, and for the fairer forms and purer thoughts of her daughters. I love her for the glorious. memories of the past, her triumphs and defeats, for the rights she has maintained and the wrongs she has endured. I love her for the sacred dust she holds of dear ones gone before. Yes, I love her most of all for that mighty host of heroes who sacrificed their lives in defense of her honor and, who, clasped to her dear old bosom, now sleep beneath the sod."-William H. Fleming.

[Extract from an address delivered in Atlanta on Georgia Day at the International Cotton Exposition of 1895.]

THE BIBLE.

The Bible, after prolonged research, has been admitted to be divine, by the consent of the master-minds of every age. Though the oldest book in the world, it is still ever new its leaves never wither and its beauty never fades. In the palmiest days of persecution, when the spirit of despotism was abroad and the leaves of truth were mutilated by the fraud of the imposter, even then it might be said, as was said of the ruler's daugher, "It is not dead but sleepeth."

It is the sin of nations and the curse of the church that we have never properly appreciated the Bible as we ought. It is the book of books for the priest and for the people, for the old and for the young. It should be the tenant of the academy as well as of the nursery, and should be incorporated in our course of education from the mother's knee to graduation in the highest universities of the land. Everything is destined to fail unless the Bible be the fulcrum on which these laws revolve. Can such a book be read without an influence commensurate with its importance? As well might the flowers sleep when the spring winds its mellow horn to call them from their bed; as well might the mist linger upon the bosom of the lake when the sun beckons it to leave its dewy home. The Bible plants our feet amid that angel group which stood with eager wing expectant when the spirit of God first hovered over the abyss of chaos and wraps us in praise for the new-born world when the morning stars sang together for joy. The Bible builds for us the world when we are not; stretches our conceptions of the infinite be

yond the last orbit of astronomy; pacifies the moral discord of earth; reorganizes the dust of the sepulcher and tells man that heaven is his home and eternity his lifetime.

What, sir, was the reformation but a resurrection of the Bible? Cloistered in superstition, its moral rays had been intercepted and the intellect of man, stricken at a blow from its pride of place, was shut within the dark walls of moral despair and slept the sleep of death beneath its wizard spell. Opinion fled from the chambers of the heart and left the mind to darkness and to change. But Luther evoked the Bible and its precepts from its prisonhouse and the word of God breathed the warm breath of life upon the valley of vision and upon the sleeping Lethean sea. Intellect burst from the trance of ages, dashed aside the portals of her dark dungeon, felt the warm sunlight relax her stiffened limbs, forged her fetters into swords and fought her way to freedom and to fame.

The Bible, sir, is the guide of the erring and the reclaimer of the wandering; it heals the sick, consoles the dying and purifies the living. Let the master give it to the pupil, the professor to his class, the father to his son, the mother to her daughter; place it in every home in the land; then shall the love of God cover the earth and the light of salvation overlay the land as the sunbeams of morning lie upon the mountains."-Bishop George F. Pierce.

[Extract from an address delivered before the American Bible Society in New York in 1844.]

CHRISTIAN EDUCATION.

With education divorced from Christian morals we hold no fellowship. No! Let the Bible be to our colleges what the Shekinah was to the temple of the olden time, at once the symbol of the presence and the worship of God. Science herself is blind to the true interests of men until her eyes are opened by the waters of Siloam's pool. Multiply your academies, erect your colleges, organize your faculties, gather your pupils together, deliver your lectures, seek all the advantages of apparatus, and cabinets and libraries, but exclude the Scriptures and you turn loose upon society minds full armed for mischief. The rod, which in Aaron's hand would have budded and blossomed, you convert into a serpent, which will wellnigh devour all the virtues of the land; but let the warm and living spirit of Christianity, as here, thank God, it does, breathe magic balm upon the youthful minds that crowd your halls of learning, then shall hope beam over them in the light of hallowed prophecy and the revolution of Time's wheel shall evolve the destiny of each in the brightness of knowledge and virtue. Let politicians make penal enactments and seek to bind depravity with human laws as did the Philistines the man of Gaza with feeble cords, but be it our labor to plant society in the shadows of the eternal throne, draw over it the shield of omnipotence and protect it with the thunder that issues from the thick darkness in which Jehovah dwells. Talk ye of Pierian springs and Castilian founts and Arcadian groves; give me the Testament of Jesus, the inspiration of the spirit, the baptism of the Holy Ghost. Let others seek

the accomplishment of classic lore, wander amid the ruins of antiquity, learn the lessons of wisdom from the gray chronicles of departed times, sit rapt in poetic mood as the evening looks down upon the lone and mighty wild, over whose bosom, wide and waste, lie scattered the moldering wrecks of cities that have crumbled into tombs; be it ours, my countrymen, to lead our children amid the gardens of God and point them to the glories of the great hereafter. Let the dying enemy of God bequeath his millions to rear a marble monument within whose capacious dimensions the fearful experiment is to be made of rearing men without religion, but on this institution rest forever the dews of Zion and the smile of God.—Bishop George F. Pierce.

ADIEU TO WESLEYAN.

Time will soon be done. The day scarcely says at morning's rosy dawn, "I come," ere the sound, "I am gone," sinks and dies in evening's quiet hush. The present will soon be the past. The bounding blood, struck by the chill of death, will creep in funeral motion to the heart, whose feeble pulsations can send it forth no more. Life's gay attire must be surrendered for the grave's pale shroud, and the freedom of earth for confinement in the coffin and the tomb. Take heed to your ways, your hearts and your hopes. So live that when this earthly tabernacle lies in darkened ruin and the soul shall send its power forth, it shall receive a welcome from its God and a mansion in its Father's house. My task is well nigh over. It remains

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