VOL. Ill
OXFORD, N. C., WEDNESDAY, JULY 18, 1877.
NO. 29.
OUK BICIIES.
We are so rich—my lieart ainl I—
Ife scarce ean count, tlio’we often try,
Tlie various iiicoiues grand and fair,
In w’lueli weliold perpetual share.
Our happy fortune is begun
Bach niorn, when conics the gracious
sun,
Scattering such golden largess round.
Earth seems at once enchanted ground.
Then all the splendors of the night
Are ours, by long-established right j
I'roin silver luooii and staT-gcnimed
For year.s on years, my heart and I
Have had a revenue of joy.
That nought could lessen or destroy.
Then, too, we have the world of flow
ers ;
The songs of birds in woodland bow
ers;
Thesuiniucr winds that, soft and low,
Breathe secrets we delight to know;
And sunset clouds, and waving trees,
And mist-crowned hills and azure
seas—
These inaiiy treasures, grand and lair,
Tills beauty smiling everywhere;
This varied ivealth of earth and sky
AVe freely claim—niy heart and 1.
Then wo have riches greater still,
That all our days witli gladness fill—
Accents that cheer and smiles that'
bless.
And glances full of tenderness,
And gentle words from lips lye love.
And troops of friends whose fair deeds
prove
That (rod-like natures still have birth
Here, on this sin-encompassed earth.
Ami w'O have memories—oh, how dear!
That grow more precious year by
year—
Memories of loved ones passed away.
Whose tender teachings with us stay
And give us daily strength to bear
The ills and bunlens all must share.
As misers hoard and hide their gold,
So ive in secret count and fold
The.se sacred treasures softly by
For our sole use—-my heart and I.
Yet though so rich—my heart and I—
11 e’re poor in w'ords to testify
Our thanks to that boiiignant Power
IVliO grants ns such a glorious dower.
Ail, yes! all words are poor and wmak
Onr grateful, reverent love to spea,i;
But as tlie lowliest flower that blooms
Gives what it has—its soft perfumes-
To tiie lone wild before it dies, ^
Tliongh none benear to brink its sighs;
And, as the smalle-st woodland bird
Is by a holy im])ulse stirred
To send its song of rapture round,
Tliongh never mortal hear the sound,
go fl-e—my heart and I—as they
The laws of being still obey;
And though our effort niay^ be vain
Though none may heed our humble
strain, , .
We yet must sing, and, singing, try
To spcik oui' gladness ere we die.
—Home Journal
riBMNESS OF PEUPOSE.
It is astonisliing what an indi
vidual, borne onward by a deter
mined and resolute will, can _ ac
complish. He bends other minds
to bis purposes, weaker natures
yield to his; he carries them as
it were by storm. He will
believe in tlie impossible. “ I
possible,’’saidNapoleon the Grefit,
“ is a word only to be found in
the dictionary of fools.” It is not
intellect that makes a man great,
so much as earnest purpose. The
men in all times who have deeply
impressed their cliaracter upon
their age have not been so much
men of high intellectual powers,
as men of indomitable will and of
unceasing industry. Of such na
tures were MartiniLuther, Ignatius
Loyola, John Knox, Mahomet,
Cromwell, Kapoleon, and John
Wesley.
Look at Napoleon the Great,
—how he pressed all men-—soL
diers and philosophers alike
into his service. His will was
almost omnipotent. He bore
down before him the armies of all
Europe. The world lay at his
feet. Once it was said to him
the Alps stood in the way of his
troops. “ There shall be no Alps,”
said he ; and forthwith the grand
military road was made, and the
access to Italy was rendered easy'
in all time coming.
The right direction of the en
ergies of a man is of the greatest
importance, and the time to se
cure this is in youth. Lamennais
writing to a young friend of his,
said, “ You are not at the age at
which a decision must be come
to; a little later, and you will
have to bear the yoke of the des
tiny which such decisions involves
—when you may have to groan
within tlie tomb which you your
self have dug, without any power
of rolling away the stone. That
which the easiest becomes a habit in
us, is the will. Learn, then, to
will once, to will strongly and
decisively ; thus fix your floating
life, and’leave it no longer to be
drifted hither and thither, like a
withered leal, by every wind that
blows.”
It is told of Warren Hastings,
that when a boy, he once sat
uminating on the field of Dray-
lesford and vowed in his young
heart that those lost parental
acres should yet be his. His
strong will helped him to realize
his early vow; all through Ins
career in India it accompanied
him, and was never forgotten;
and after long years had passed
away, the grey-haired statesman
forgot not the determination -of
his youth, and he did see the
lands of Draylesford become his
own. A nobler resolution was
that of Clarkson, the leader in the
Abolition of the Slave Trade,
who, once on his juurney from
Cambridge to London, sat down
on a spot by the wayside, which
is A’et pointed out, and there
formed the determination of de
voting his life to the abolition of
the slave trade. And his firm
purpose once fixed, he never lost
sight of it, but spoke, and wrote,
and labored incessantly, until he
finally succeeded in achieving his
grand work.
George Stephenson was a prac
tical worker in another field,-—
that of railway transport. When
he first proposed to carry travel
ers along the iron road at a
greater speed than ten miles an
hour, he was laughed at by many
as a lunatic, and the Quarterly
Review compared his railway
speculation to a ricochet rocket!
But Stephenson had got firm hold
of his idea, and would not give it
up. Spealdng afterwards of the
difficulties he had to encounter
before he could get his idea re
cognized, he said, “ At Liverpool,
I pledged myself to attain a speed
of ten miles an hour. I had no
doubt the engine would go much
faster, but it was better to be
moderate at the beginning. I
had no place myself in the wit
ness-box of a Parliamentary Com
mittee. I could not find words
to satisfy either the Committee or
myself. One inquired if I was a
foreigner, and another hinted I
was mad; but I put up 'with
every rebuff, and went on with
my plans, determined not to be put
down." Every body now knows
that Stephenson was right, and
that the Parliamentary Committee
an4 Quarterly Review were wrong ;
for express trains now travel some
at the rate of fifty miles an hour.
Take anotlier instance, from
the life of Sir Edward Sngden, a
late Lord Chancellor of Ireland,
who in early life was a barber,
and by diligent and steady pur
pose, worked his ' way to the
liig-hest rank as a lawyer. The
secret of his success, in Ins own
words, was as follows : “ I resolv
ed," said he, “ when beginning to
read law, to make everything I
acquired perfectly my own, and
never to go to a second thing
until I had entirely accomplished
the first. Many of my competi
tors read as much in a day as I
read in a week ; but at the end of
twelve m'onths, my knowledge
was as fresh as on the day on
which it was acquired, while theirs
had glided away from tlieir recol
lection.”
The lives of artists and literary
men are full of equally instructive
instances of the victorious power
of purpose and earnest endeavor.
Of similar men in a humbler walk
of life, Jolin Pounds the cobbler,
the founder of Ragged Schools,
—Eaikes the printer, the founder
of Sunday Schools,—and Thomas
Wright the foundryman, the re
claimer of criminals and convicts
to lionesty and virtue,—are illus
trious instances. Courage, ac
tivity, and earnest perseverance,
are indeed the secret of all suc-
No good endeavor, strenu
ously persisted in, will fail; it
must succeed at last. Powers of
even the most mediocre kind, if
energetically emploj'ed, will ef
fect mucli. “ The weakest living
creature,” sa3"s Carlyle, “ by con-
centrtiting his powers on a single
object, can accomplisli something;
tile strongest, bj' dispersing his
on man\’, maj’ fail to accomplisli
anything." Nor does effort, well
directed, tend in any way to ex
haust a man : it rather gives him
increased strength in all direc
tions. Burke said, “ The more
one has to do, the more one is
capable of doing, even beyond
his proper path.—Family Journal.
DO IT WEEE.
A TOECIHIVG W.4K lAtlDEMT.
In one of the liotlj'contested
fights in Virginia, during the war,
a Federal officer fell wounded in
front of the Confederate breast
works. While lying there woun
ded and crying piteously for wa
ter, a Confederate soldier, (James
Moore, of Burke count}’, N. C.,)
declared his intention of supply
ing him with drink. The bullets
were flying thick from both sides,
and Moore’s friends endeavored to
dissuade him from such a liazard-
ous enterprise. Despite remon
strance and danger, however,
Moore leaped the breastwork, can
teen in hand, reached his woun
ded enemy and gave him drink.
The Federal, under a sense of
gratitude for the timelj’ service,
took out his gold watch and of
fered it to his benefactor, hut it
was refused. The officer then
asked the name of the man who
had braved such danger to succor
liim; the name was given, and
Moore returned unhurt to his po
sition behind the embankment.
They saw nothing more of
each other. Moore was subse
quently wounded and lost a limb
in one of the engagements in Vir
ginia, and returned to his home in
Burke county. A few daj’s ago
he received a communication from
a Federal soldier to whom he had
given the “cup of cold water” on
the occasion alluded to, announ
cing that he had settled on him
the sum ot ten thousand dollars,
to be paid in four equal annual
installments of tweutv’-five hun
dred dollars each. Investigation
has established the fact that there
is no mistake or deception in the
matter.—Raleigh News.
A MODEE SENTENCE.
How many persons there are
who wish the\^ could do a thing
well, but who are unwilling to
give the time and strength to fit
themselves for the work in ques
tion. Young teachers wish they
could interest and profit a class
as well as some highly successful
teacher of their acquaintance;
yet they are not ready to stud}’
as hard on their lessons week by
week as that skilled teacher does ;
nor will they pay as much atten
tion as he gives to wise methods
of teaching. Another young per
son wishes he could wu'ite attrac
tively for the papers ; but he will
not wait until he has trained
himself for this sphere as, without
exception, the best newspaper
writers have. He who thinks
that a man can preach well, or
write well, or sing well, or play
well on a musical instrument, or,
in fact, do anything well without
hard work in learning how to do
that thing, is greatly mistaken.
It is never easy to do a tiling un
til a man realizes that it is hard
to do it.—N. S. Times.
Three saloon-keepers in Chi
cago were found guilty of selling
liquor to minors. The address of
the justice when they were sen
tenced, as reported in the Chicago
Tribune, is original and eminently
wholesome. The evils of the li
quor traffic, and what a license
involves, are rarely set out in a
clearer light than in the following
address by Judge Reading:
“ By tlie law you may sell to
men and women, if they will buy.
You have given your bond, and
paid your license to sell to them,
and no one has a right to molest
you in your legal business. No
matter what the consequences
may be, no matter what poverty
and destitution are produced by
your selling according to law,
you have paid your money for
this privilege, and you are licens
ed to pursue your calling. No
matter what families are distracted
and rendered miserable ; no mat
ter what children starve or mourn
over the degradation of a parent,
your business is legalized and no
one may interfere with you in it.
No matter what mother may ag
onize over the loss of a son, or a
sister blush at the shame of a
brother, you have a right to dis
regard them all and pursue your
legal calling—you are licensed.
You may fit up your lawful place
of business in the most enticing
and captivating form ; you may
furnish it with the most costly
and elegant equipments for your
lawful trade ; you may fill it wiih
the allurements of amusements;
you may use all your arts to in
duce visitors: A’ou may skillfully
arrange and expose to view your
choicest wines and most captivat
ing bevei-ages; you may then
induce a raging appetite for strong
drink, and then you may supply
that appetite to tlie full, because
it is lawful; you have paid for it
—you have a license. You may
allow boys almost children to
frequent your saloon ; they may
witness the apparent satisfaction
with which their seniors quaff the
sparkling glass; you may be
schooling and training them for
the period of twenty-one, when
they too, can participate, for all
this is lawful. You may hold the
cup to their lips, but you must
not let them drink—that is un
lawful. But while you have all
these privileges, that of selling to
children is denied you. Here
parents have the right to say,
“ Leave my son to me until the
law gives you a riglit to destroy
him. Do not anticipate that ter
rible moment wlien I can assert
for him no further rights of pro
tection. That will be soon enough
for me, foi his mother, for his
sister, for his friends and for the
community to take his road to
death. Give him to us in his
childhood at least. Let us have
a few years of his youth, in which
we can enjoy his innocence, to
repay us in some small degree for
the care and love we have lav
ished upon him.” This is some
thing you who now stand prison
ers at the bar have not paid for
—this is not embraced in your
license. For this offense the
court sentences you for ten days
imprisonment in tlie county jail,
and that you pay a fine of seven
ty-five dollars and costs, and that
you stand committed until the
fine and costs of this prosecution
are paid.”
•—Those brethren who are
sound in mind and taught in the
word are often not so eager to
speak in public, as that class who
imagine from dreams or otherwise
they have a call; whereas it is
not manifest to the church that
they have a gift. When there is
a true gift and proper qualifica
tions for the ministry there is a
balance or check accompanying,
which subdues the feelings of its
possessor so much that he trem
bles at the responsibility, and
would wish to be relieved of the
duty. It is not hard to hold such
back. But if one has a carnal
desire to preach he is pretty sure
to make a disturbance if he is not
allowed to do so.—Zion's Land
mark.
—Prayer is a liaven to a ship
wrecked marinei-, an anchor to
them tliat are sinking in the
waves, a staff to the limbs that
totter, a mine of jewels to the
poor, a security to the rich, a
healer of disease, and a guardian,
of health. Pi-ayer at once secures
the continuance of our blessings,
and dissipates the cloud of our
calamities.—Chrysostom.
The table of life is abundantly
supplied. If wo don’t eat so fast,
it will taste the better; if wo don’t
eat too much, we sliall be better
nourished; if we don’t snatcli,
there will be enougli for all.—G.
G. Ames.
— - -J