phalia's, juicy tongues, sardines, lobsters, We may live without friends, we may live without But civilized man cannot live without cooks." dispatch;" and hence we find this section the most rebellious and unsubdued of all, for when the Georgia housekeeper remembers her table as it was, and sees it as it is, how can she ever be willing to submit to the new order of things? The sword ought never to have been the arbiter of our cause, but the ladies North and South ought each separately to have given a feast of two days, and invited Congress and the Cabinet to have decided upon the merits of bond and free labor, as manifested in the most essential department of life, cooking, and granted the victory to the one that excelled-nay, even more, if we could get our cause to depend upon the merit of our cooking, we would call our old family servants around us, invested with the skill of several generations, and give Congress such a feast that, like Ahasuerus after dining two days with Queen Esther, they would be willing to divide or halve the kingdom with us. And we'll venture a pearl that Cleopatra was queen over kings more by the excellence of her cuisine, and her knowledge that No writer has excelled the author of “An"the turnpike road to emperors' hearts lies te Bellum" in delineating the negro and his thro' their mouths, or we mistake mankind," peculiarities; and the "Uncle Joes," "Aunt than she was by the pre-eminence of her Bettys," and "old Elzys" are as patent to beauty. Such healthful and appetizing cook-sight as though drawn in "propria persona” ery as graced our social boards was seldom by the pencil of Porte Crayon. The two seen. It was supposed to be the result of races were to each other like substance and the African's aptitude for the culinary art, shadow, but now, severed and disjointed, but free they have already nearly lost their they wander fragmentary, lost and disconformer skill, while the Southern matron finds tented. it impossible to instill that pride and ambition into the hireling which is necessary to this intricate science. The Indian requires only one good meal a day, and can hunt a week on a daily handful of parched corn. The negro, as a freedman, only wants two meals a day, the white laborer only three, while wealth and civilization require five. Good cooking had reached its acme of perfection in middle Georgia, where the skill had been handed down from mother to daughter, both in the house and kitchen, and hence we find this section the birthplace and origin of secession, for who that has once known and enjoyed such cooking would be willing, without a fight, to resign it at the dictation of a Northern majority, whose motto at their own tables is "economy and The author and the artist love to linger over the paintings of the old masters, whose shadowy outlines and mystic depths rather suggest than portray ideal beauty; but the multitude loves best the pictures of the Dusseldorf school, where the water is so sparkling and crystal you feel tempted to drink; the foliage and trees so natural you expect to see them wave in the breeze, and become vocal with the song of birds; and the earth is like that you tread on, while the people and their drapery are like those you daily meet. Thus, while "St. Elmo" and "Beulah" are the choice of the student and the scholar, the mass of our countrymen will make a household word of "Ante Bellum," which calls so vividly to memory "Southern life as it was,” where even the youth, in their chivalry, took the punishment due the lady of their love; *The description of this feast was necessarily and we commend it to the perusal of South abridged as a quotation. ern readers, especially those who delight to see religion and morality inculcated at the same time they are wafted down the pleas ant stream of romance, fanned by cooling breezes, and exhilarated by the fragrance of sweet blossoming flowers. OUR FIRST MEETING. (FOUNDED ON FACT.) BY MRS. S. E. PECK. I stood upon the platform of a railroad station, watching the white smoke as it curled up in dense volumes from the engine that was slowly moving off. Near by were the romantic peaks of Alleghany Mountains, and the smoke, as it lost itself between the hills, presented a beautiful contrast to the dark-green foliage of the pine trees that clothed their rugged sides. Here in this valley my father had spent his boyhood. I had heard him describe these scenes so often that no wonder I paused to gaze upon their beauties. I had finished my education, was a young man of leisure and fortune, and had started out to see something of the world, ere I settled down into a staid farmer. I had an old uncle whom I had never seen living about ten miles from this station. I had failed to notify him of my contemplated visit, so I had to look around to get a conveyance to his house. While at college I had formed the acquaintance of a young man-Ned Hampton-who lived in sight of my uncle's. I had conceived a great friendship for him, and it was partly to visit him and renew our friendship that made me so anxious to pay this visit. I could only see one or two houses, one of them a small store house. Into this I went. What was my surprise to find only a young lady in it? She was standing with her back to me. I had time to notice the elegance of her attire, and felt at a glance that she was a lady of refinement and education. She held a guitar in her hand, and was playing a fashionable waltz. She was so completely absorbed in her performance that she failed to hear my light step as I entered. Now, if there was any one passion of my soul that, "like Aaron's rod, swallowed up all the rest," it was my passion for music. I stood entranced. I had never before listened to such ecstatic strains. Her whole soul was absorbed in her performance. I saw a violin lying near me on the counter. Instinctively I reached forth my hand and took it up. I held it close to my ear, and lightly passed my fingers over the strings. It was in pertect tune. Without a word of apology, I commenced playing the accompanyment to the air she was playing. She instantly turned around, and I beheld one of the most beautiful girls that it had ever been my fate to meet with. She possessed black curly hair, clear brunette complexion, and eyes small, but, oh! how expressive. A bewitching smile wreathed itself around her pouting lips. As she heard the first notes of the violin she gave me one scrutinizing glance. Mercy! I never had any one to read and understand my character so thoroughly in one moment in my life. She seemed to be satisfied that I was a gentleman and her equal. She had not missed a note while this was going on. Satisfied as to myself, she tossed her pretty ringlets, and then swept her hand gracefully over the strings, and played on as though there was nothing singular in our performance. As soon as she finished the waltz she dashed off the "Dutch Polka." I played a low accompanyment. Each of us felt that we were evenly matched. As for myself, I had been told too often of my talent for music not to be conscious of its pos session; but I had never until now met with a lady whose skill in performance could rival mine. After she finished playing the "Dutch Polka," I was ungallant enough not to wait for her to lead off, but instantly began playing "The Mocking-bird,” with variations. I wanted to test her ability to the utmost. Again she tossed her pretty ringlets back, and with a flourish she commenced playing the accompaniment. My soul was intoxicated. I almost forgot our being strangers, and felt like applauding her for her faultless touch. Up to this time we had not spoken a word, though our eyes, in the meantime, had revealed volumes. I now heard a gentleman enter the door. My back was to him. Above the din of our music I heard him say: "Well, sis, have you not become tired waiting for my return? That fellow detained me in business longer than I expected he would. Where's brother, that he's not in the store? He knows his clerk is absent to-day, and he ought to come out of the back room and quit his eternal book-keeping for once." In spite of the pettish tone of the voice | and our loud music, I had recognized my college friend's voice. I turned and gazed full in his face. As I did so, he gave one glad shout and rushed to me, and almost clasped me in his arms. I threw down the violin, and pressed his extended hand. After Ned and myself had conversed awhile he said: have been more guarded in my expressions." I laughingly said: “We have met, and quite unexpectedly, and our meeting has been quite a romantic one. Don't you think so, Ned?" Ned answered: "Look here, my dear fellow!-I will be candid with you-when I entered here a few moments ago and found a stranger, as I supposed, playing duets with my sister, I felt like taking a cowhide to him." I playfully said to Miss Celia: "What if I had been a stranger, and he had attempted it-('twould have been a dangerous experiment, though, for I'm the most powerful of the two)-would you have felt sorry for the wandering musician, and would you have felt like taking his part?" Miss Celia failed to answer me, and turning to Ned, said: "Brother, it is time we were going home." Ned said to me: "Come, Walter, you've got to go home with us." I answered: "I came in here for the purpose of hiring a conveyance to take me to my uncle's; but from the looks of the place I don't think I'll be apt to find any." Ned laughed and said: "If it were possible you shouldn't avail yourself of it. I shan't give up the dearest friend I have on earth to an old uncle who is a stranger to you So jump up here in my rockaway. I'll soon land you safely at my father's, who will be rejoiced to meet with one whom he's heard me speak of so often." I could not resist his pleadings. Soon we "How in thunder came you and sister Celia were rolling over the smooth dirt road that to be playing together? Who introduced led to his father's home. Miss Celia and you to each other? I suppose you must have myself became thoroughly acquainted durhad an introduction, or else you would noting that memorable drive. When we arrivhave been playing together so amicably as ed there it was nearly dark. Supper was you were when I came in." waiting. Although desperately in love by this time, I did ample justice to the rich viands set before us. After supper we found ourselves in the parlor. I soon noticed a rich, elaborately carved piano sitting near us, which was heavily laden with sheets of new music. I saw Ned's old college violin placed near, and bantered Miss Celia for another duet. She cheerfully consented. I said: "If this is the young lady with whom I used to correspond "-(ah! I well remember those little billet-doux, so sweetly scented, that used to come hid away in the folds of her brother's letters)—“I do not think any formal introduction is necessary." Here I noticed Miss Celia blush. In the I midst of her confusion, she said: "I admit that we did carry on our little flirtation by letter too far. I assure you, sir, if I had known at that time that you and I would ever have met in the future, I would We spent several hours in such exquisite enjoyment as is seldom experienced by mortals here below. Ned declared that he could not get a word out of me about old college "Now, my boy, that's just the thing. It suits me. You shall be my heir; you and your bride shall come here and live. My house is too large for an old bachelor to look after." Since those old days Celia and myself have played many a duet together, and strange to say, we have never become tired of playing them. I sometimes think the secret of the cause is, that she is such a good and true wife that I am more a lover than I was the first night of my acquaintance with her. THE SPIRIT OF THE OUACHITA. BY J. H. B. Roameth my heart On the banks of a river, The Ouachita riyer, The heart-haunting vision of yore; For it was there that she left me, When of hope she bereft me, And there still forever, In a fruitless endeavor, With an endless endeavor, Wasteth my heart evermore. Wierdly together, Of the sorrowful, soul-blighting doom, Of that stream near the shore, As the damp winds caressed me, In the lovely, the dismal night gloom. The winds did sigh As they swept me by, And the tear-drops glistened And wept at her scornful reply. Of clouds 'twixt his and her eye. The river, bewailing My fate, and availing Itself of the darkness, swept by- In unison with my heart's cry With the grief that disarmed me, Left me with the night and my woe; The stars shine kindly, For they know I loved blindly They pity my sorrowful soul, As there, all alone, My fate I bemoan In a sad monotone, As forever I ceaselessly stroll; So darkly opprest me, Alone with the night and my dreams. Our Tripod. THE PROGRESS OF RECONSTRUCTION. It is no part of the business of this Mag-sition is not only one of extreme financial azine to meddle with the mere politics of embarrassment, but that it is likewise painthe country-we leave that field to the ex- fully humiliating to the just pride of its inclusive exploration and occupancy of our habitants. But we confess our inability to editorial confreres of the weekly and daily see how these desirable results are to be sepress. There are certain questions, howev- cured without a material modification of the er, of such transcendent interest that we Republican policy. cannot altogether overlook them without exposing ourselves to the charge of a culpable indifferency to the common welfare. Of this class is the subject suggested by the caption of this article. To our mind it is an axiomatic truth that no reconstruction can be permanent or beneficial that is not clearly based on principles of justice. In the present disheartened and impoverished condition of the South she It is not, however, in the spirit of parti- may submit to terms that are flagrantly unzanship that we address ourselves to its dis-just, but it is morally certain, as before inticussion, but rather, we trust, in the spirit of mated, that disaffection, like a deadly poisan enlightened and catholic patriotism It argues a sad want of statesmanship in the Halls of Congress that for three weary and eventful years our law-givers have labored at the problem of reconstruction, and yet have failed to reach a solution satisfactory to the masses of their constituency, or perhaps even to themselves. In the meantime the wounds of the body politic, which ought to have healed by first intention, have been so chafed and inflamed by political quackery that they have become well nigh incurable. True it is that Congress has enacted a series of laws, and under their operation several of the disfranchised States have been lately admitted to a quasi representation. But suppose this Congressional plan established, will it restore material prosperity to the nation? Will it inaugurate an era of good feeling-or does it plant, instead, roots of bitterness and seeds of revolution, that shall, after the lapse of a few years, spring up to trouble the quietness of the people, and perchance to shake the very pillars of the Government? We should be glad to know that the policy of the dominant party now sought to be enforced-by means and appliances of a very questionable sort-would indeed insure abiding peace and prosperity to the South. For it is not to be disguised that its present po on, will rankle in the Southern heart, and that this disaffection may ultimately ripen into open and armed hostility. Let no party in this country hug the delusive hope that eight millions of Southrons, chiefly of Anglo-Saxon descent, can be permanently ruled by a bureauocracy, although backed by a standing army. Such an experiment can only end in a disgraceful failure, after plunging the Government into irretrievable bankruptcy. There is another feature of the Congres sional plan which is quite sure to defeat its final success. We refer to the doctrine of the political and social equality of the races. This doctrine is, in itself, so alien to the spirit of the American people, and so subversive of the settled policy of the nation that it will not be cordially received any where outside the limits of New England. Indeed, if the scheme of negro equality were practicable, it would prove an unspeakable calamity to Christian civilization. It would convert the fairest portion of the continent into a howling wilderness-the abode of a semi-barbarous race, who contributed nothing to the stock of national wealth, and who, whether in peace or war, would be an incubus and a vexation to the country. But the scheme is utterly impracticable. The white race, in spite of legislative restrictions and |