Newspapers / The Orphans’ Friend (Oxford, … / Oct. 11, 1876, edition 1 / Page 2
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THB] ORPHANS’ PKIENU. W>,>liiL‘sday, »ct»l>er tl, IS76. SIGXS OS' XIIE XISIES. We rarely take ap an exchange but we thank Heaven for the lib erty of the press. Sure it is our penitentiaries and prisons, would be pojjulated u'ith hordes of the craft were we cramped under a monarchical government. All might not be so fortunate, as a firm in a well-known and warm I'ebel region who “ confessed ” to having three editors—one local, one political, and one to go in jai! to answer the demands of justice. ’Tis a convenience beyond question, and though not alto- gether as pleasant as some other vocations in life we know of, j'et there are always obliging dispositions in the world, and doubtless the applications would exceed the demand. Freedom of speech, as well as freedom in action, is a necessity of our existence, and it is no mar vel that during an exciting can- vass long buried bitternesses should be resurrected. A political campaign is the crucible in which a candidate’s character is tried, and after the fitful fever is over, if anything is left, if he is not quite picked to jtieces, he must be a better man for having passed the ordeal. True it is he will know all that is bad of himself to be known, and to set about a reformation is the next step to such knowledge. Know tht'self is a wise maxim of an old sage. And s) -.ve hope that this great excitement all over our State will not be pi-oductive only of ill. The weak points on both sides have been assailed most mercilessly, and may we not hope tliat each, seeing their errors, will set about correcting them. A reaction must take place, each elevation has its corresponding depiession, the fall will be equal to the height gained. This Centennial year will be one long to be remembered in our borders. The cry of hard times has echoed all over our land, but from the North comes tidings that the crisis is reached—is over, and that a better day is coming; but we hesitate to take up the retrain, for can it be so witii us. Think of the drained millions of South ern money heeped into centennial coffers, tiiough fai' be it from us to censure since to exhibit human ])rogress in Art and Industry has been the end and aim of the World’s Great Fair. The indi vidual perhaps needed the in struction he there ga ined, and much wo hope will be done to promote the progress of human happiness, comfort, and intelligence, but tak ing a collective view of the matter we shudder at the consequences. Let us then trace tlie depression which will necessarily follow these two causes to its true source. We must endeavor to combat the in ertia that will follow in the wake of excitement, nor suffer ourselves in the demands and efforts for a better Government, to foi'get our alle g'iance to the cause of Philan thropy. IIOIV TO DO IT. Perhaps you think our original genius, Edward Everett Hale, has exhausted this theme in his deser vedly po})ular work; but some times the question comes to us less favored mortals with no loss force t lan to him; but without his happy f i '-ultv for worming out of difficnl t ;.s. Wo secretly begrudge the old itoiiiaii, his oracle, and murmur at a civilization that has abolished the convetiience ; lor then did we ciT tlie flattering unction would still be ours, that “ we were not to hlnrae,” it was not our fault, and Oh ! how refreshing it is to saddle onr faults on some one else, amour jtropre is supreme and nothing proves it more con clusive than this. “ I would not do it,” “ I don’t approve it,” are phrases that often pass judgment on the conduct of a fellow sinner. Perhaps you would not, but is it not barely possible that what you would do, judged by the absolute standard of rights miglit, prove equi distant from the mark I Put yourself in his place and you might long to be out of it. Sometimes our course lies through a narrower cliannel than is bound ed by the Pillars of Hercules,— a position must be taken, to fall back is impossible, stand still we can’t, march forward we must, then hark! to the hue and cry that salutes us if we find ourselves stranded on either extreme, (and who will say that the mean is easily found 1) tliere we may tarrv unless a merciful Pi evidence helps us off as a just recompense of re ward, they sii}', and for what! A groping after the trutli ? And Christian charitj', wliere is it! Verily it is a rarity. Oh ! for tlie day when we will cease to sit in judgment on the sliort comings of others; when the beam in our own eyes will obscure the mote in our brothers, but that will herald in the Millennium. DO YOU EVEK TllIYK OF IT? How we are molding some one's character, shaping some one’s course fur life. All! me, that hasty word with its impatient tone, the indifferent manner when, perhaps, onr sympathy was but too much needed, lias left its im pression on the plastic cla\ for time, yes, and eternity too. Who shall say but that some poor ship wreck might have gained the har bor with flying sails had we but bid it God speed ! Are wo not too willing to measure our own progress by tlie stationary state of tliose we have left behind ! Some class-mate perhaps, started even witli us in the race, but life’s dis cipline lias proven too severe, the lines have fallen to him in hard places, and he has ceased to strag gle on and fallen out of the ranks. Did we then lend a helping hand or were we but too much engross ed with self, or worse, self-con gratulatory on our supeiiorityl A seeming failure is often a suc cess, and God knows best liow to judge the weary and heavy laden. Happy we, if the awful sentence, “ Ye did it not to these,” salutes us not when we stand before the Great White Throne to give an account of the deeds done in the bod}'. FOST OUPOKTUWITIFS. TO WHOM? Those “ calm mild days ” that Bryant so beautifully sings of, have come; but we fail to enjoy the,present in the outlook to the future. The time lias been when we loved this season, it lent an additional charm to the favorite passages in our favorite authors, and cast its halo over all our du ties and pleasures. It is not so now. Around ns now are bare foot, thinly-clad orphan children, making mute appeals for a wanner garb, and we must say them, “Nay,” for want of the means to provide. Step by step the winter cold and bleak is com ing up to meet them, and whom have they to look to for protec tion again,st its storms! One of the saddest chapters of the Christian’s biography is the un written chapter of his lost oppor tunities ; privileges and lielp.s and inspirations and comforts he might liave enjoyed, and through some delinquency failed of. lie fails, inhislateandjliuiTied rising, to read a inoniiiig portion of GoJ’s Word, some faitiiiul vvariiiiig-, some com forting promise, some helpful triifli, he might have carried tvitli him through the day. Through the same eagerness to get to his worldly tasks, he ,_inisses a visit to the closet of prat-er, and his Saviour’s benediction of peace and joy in the Holy Ghost. He misses, through the day, by timidity or pre-occui)atioii, occa sions for witnesses for Christ, and of the reacting strength and com fort. He misses the prayer-meet- ing through weariness, or the call of a friend, or tlie charm of some fascinating book, or the attraction of some bill of fare in earthly entertainments ; and so does not enter with his brethren under the portal over which is written, “there am I in the midst of yon.” So he mis oj the Sabbath of insti'uction and all its quickenir.g influence ; so he misses of the feast, the Master of which testifies, “My flesh is meat indeed.” Oh, these lost opportunities; charged against us on tiie remem bering books, weakening all onr spiritual forces, and robbing ns of treasures inestimable for our spiritual life ! Watch and pray against such -losses ! Be avari cious o! these sacred and priceless privileges. Let no reproach stand against your name of such woeful delinquency !—The Pacific. CUKIoX’S fTcI'S about WOKDS. Marsh tells us that the number of Englisli words not vet obsolete, but tound in good authors, or in approved usage by correct speak ers, including the nomenclature of Science and the arts, does not probably fall short of one hun dred thousand. A large portion of tliese words, however, do not enter into the living speech, the common language of daily and hourly tlioughh Some celebrated Englisli American orators Lave been able, upon occasions, to summon at their command one- half of this vast array of words, althought they habitually content themselves with a much less im posing display of verbal force. Few writers or speakers use as many as ten thousand words; ordinary persons of fair intelli gence donotgo above three or four thousand. If a scholar were to be required to name, without ex amination, the authors whose English vocabulary was the largest, he would probably speci fy the all-embracing Shakespeare and the all-knowing Milton ; and yet, in all the works of the great dramatist there occur not more than fifteen thousand words, in the poems of Milton not above eight thousand. The Old Testa ment uses but 5,642 words. The whole number of Egyptian hiero glyphic symbols does not exceed eight hundred, and the entire Italian operatic vocabulary is said to be scarcely more exten sive.—Ed. Beporter. Mr. Moody said, in preaching on “Christ as a deliverer,” I re" member preaching on this subject and walking away, I said to a Scotchman, “I didn’t finish the subject.” “Ah,, man !, yon didn’t expect to-finish, did ye ! It”ll take all eternity to finish telling what Christ has done for man.” the SEtHET OF SUUUESS. No man now standing onan em inence of influence and power, and doing a great work, lias ar rived at his position by going up in an elevator. He took the .stair way step by step. He dimed the rocks, often witli bleeding hands. Ho prepared himself tor the work ho is now doing. He never ac complished an inch of his eleva tion by standing at the foot of the stairway with his month open and longing. There is no “roval road” to anything good—not even to wealth. It goes as it- comes' There is no element of perma nence in it. The man wlio reaches his money in an elevator does not know how to enjoy it; so it is not wealth to him. To get a high position without dim ing to it; to win wealth without earning it, to do fine work with out the discipline necessary to its performance, to be famous, or ornamental, without preliminarv cost, seems to be the universal desire of the young. The chil dren would begin where their f; - thers left off. What exactlv is tlie secret of success in life 1 It is to do with out fliiidiiiig and with utter faith fulness the duty that stands next to one. AVlien a man has mas tered the duties around him ho is ready ior those of a higher grade, and he naturally takes one step upward. When he has mastered the duties of the new grade, lie goes on diming. There are no surprises to the men who arrive at eminence legitimately. It is as entirely natural that he should be there, as at the foot of the stairs There are heights above liitn, and he remains humble and simple. Preadimeiits are of little avail, perhaps, but when one comes in contact with so many men and women win put yearning for earning, and longing for laboring, lie is tempted to say to them : “Stop looking up and look around you!” Do the work that fii>t comes to your hand, and do it Well. Take no upward step until you oome to it naturally, and have won the power to hold it. The top in this little world is not so very iiigh, and patient dimb- iiig will bring you to it. AtVCESTKY OF THE PEY. S EEI -SA"SS!FICI.A«. The earliest mode of writing was on bricks, tiles, oyster-shells, stones, Ivor}', bark and leaves of trees; and from the latter the term “leaves of a hook” is proba bly derived. Copper and brass plates were very early in use ; and a bill on copper was some years since discovered in India, bearing date one hundred years B. C. Leather was also used, as well as wooden tablets. Then the pa pyrus came into vogue, and about the eighth century the papyrus was superseded by parchment. Paper, however, is of great antiq uity, especially among the Chi nese ; but the first paper mill in England was built in 1586 by a German, at Dartford, in Kent. Nevertheless, it was nearly a cen tury and a half—namely, in 1713 —before Thomas Watkins, a sta tioner, brought paper making to anything like perfection. The first approach to a pen was tlie stylus, a kind of iron bodkin; but the Romans forbade its use on account of its frequent and even fatal use in quarrels, and then it was made of bone. Sub sequently,, reeds,, pointed and split,, like pens of tlie present duy, were' used. This is a true story. Tlie liappv circumstances occurred the other evening. He escorted her to and from church, and upon arrivino' at her home their discussion o'f the sermon and the extreme heat suggested an invitation, readily accepted by Charles, that thev step into the house and partake of a cooling- glass of lemonade. She led him to the diiiing-rooiti and there found naughty brother Ben about to squeeze the last lemon in the house for his own individual benefit! Calling him aside she induced Ben by means of sundry threats and promises to dissect that lemon and make Charlie and herself a glass. A sdlt’-sacnticing thought struck her! “No, Ben,” said she, “put the juice ot the whole lemon into Charlie’s glass and bring me a glass of water. Ho won’t notice It—there is no light in the parlor!” Ben was making- one good strong lemonade, as directed, wlien Charlie quietly slipped out and remarded: “I say Ben ! put the juice of tlie entire lemon in your sister’s glass and bring me some ice water—tliere is no light in the parlor and she won’t notice it!” Ben’s forte is in oheving orders With a merry twinkle in his eye lie drank the lemonade, then carried them each a glass of water, which they drank with much ap parent relish, asking each other, between tlie sips, “if it was sweet enoiigli!” And naughty brother Ben, witli the taste of that lemon ade ill his mouth, stood out in the hall and laiiglied till his sides ached, to hear them assure each other that it was “just right! so palatable and refreshing!” .lie. CHOATE AAD 't’HE AKIBt- 'I'lOU.^ PFOWMOA’. A great many boys mistake their calling, but all such are not fortunate enough to find it out in as good season as this one did. It is said that Rufus Choate, tlie great lawyer, was once in New Ilainpshire making a jilea, when a boy, the son of a farmer, resolved to leave the plough and become a lawyer like Rufus Choate. He acooi-diiiglv went to Boston, called on Mr. Choate, and said to hill, “I heard your plea up in town, and I have a desire to become a la-wver like vou. Will you teach me how !” “ As well as I can,” said the great lawyer. “ Come in and sit down.” Taking down a copy of Blacl- stone, he said, “ Read this until I come back, and I will see how you get on.” I’lie poor boy began. An hour passed. Ills back ached, his head and legs ached. He knew not how to study. Every moiiient became a torture. He wanted air. Another hour passed, and Mr. Choate came and asked, “ How do you get on !” “Get on ! Why, do you have to read such stuff as this !” “Yes.” “How much of it !” “All there is on these shelves, and more,” looking about the great library. “How long will it take !” “Well, it has taken me more than twentyfive years.” “How much do you get !” “My hoard and clothes.” “Is that all !” ■ “Well, that is about all I have gained as yet.” “Then,” said the boy, “I will go back to plougliing. The work is not near so hard, and it pays better.”
The Orphans’ Friend (Oxford, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
Oct. 11, 1876, edition 1
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