VOL. III.
OXFOED, N. C., WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 29, 1877.
NOT LOST.
The look of sympathy the gentle word.
Spoken so low that only angels heard;
The secret act of pare self-sacnliee
Unseen by mortal men, but marked
by angels’ eyes—
These are not lost.
The sacred music of a tender strain,
Wrung from a poet’s heart by grief and
pain,
And chanted timidly, with doubt and
fear,
to busy crowds, who scarcely pause
to hear—
These are not lost.
The silent tears that fall at dead of
night
Over soiled robes that once were pure
and white;
(The pftiycrs that rise like incense from
the soul
Longing for Christ to make it clean
and whole—
These are not lost.
The hai)py dreams that gladdened all
our youth,
AYhen dreams had less of self and more
of truth;
The childhood’s faith, so tranquil and
so sweet.
Which sat like Mary at the Master’s
teet—
These are not lost.
The kindly plan devised for others’
good,
So seldom guessed, so little understood;
The quiet, steadfast love that strove to
win
Some wanderer from the ways of sin—
These are not lost.
TTot lost, O Lord! for, in the city bright.
Our eyes shall see the past by clearer
light,
And things long hidden &om our gaze
below
Thou wilt reveal, and we shall surely
know
These are ndt lost.
1)0 NOT FACE TJJE JLlOilT
WHEN AT WOHK.
TIEUE ffiOSSAE COUKAOE.
Some time ago, in one of our
great sliips of war, there tvas a
solitary sailor who was not asham
ed to ow'n himself a follower ol
Christ. For a long time he was
alone ; no other sailor joined him
llis place of prayer was amid the
noise and din of the sailors. One
evening he perceived a shadow
by the side of tlie gun. Another
Jack Tar was creeping along, and
said, “May I cornel” Oh, the
joy of the young sailor to have a
comrade with him. They met
for many nights behind the gun,
reading apd praying. They be
came the butt of the men in two
or three of tiie messes, but still
they continued bearing and for
bearing. It came to the ears of
the commander—who was a Ro
man Catholic—but I mention this
to his honor.
The moment he heard that two
of his sailors were meeting for
reading and prayer behind one of
the guns, he sent for one of them,
and instantly ordered a portion of
the lower deck to be curtained
off, and gave orders that no one
should molest them.
For some nights they were the
only occupants, hut by and by
the curtain was opened, and a
blue jacket said, “May I come
in V’ He was welcomed. Anoth
er came, and another, and the
last account I heard from the
ship was this, that every night
thirty-two were meeting lor
prayer, and thirty of them are
believed to be converted charac
ters. And there, by “standing
fire,” bj' standing firm, true to
what was his duty, God has bles
sed that solitary sailor, and made
liim a spiritual father to at least
thirty men on hoard the ship.—
Church Union.
Statistics kept by oculists em
ployed in infirmaries for eye dis
ease have shown that the habit of
some persons in facing a window
from whicli the light falls directly
in the eyes as well as on tlie
work, injure their et’es in the
end. The best way is to work
with a side light, or, if the work
needs strong illumination, so that
it is necessary to have the work
ing table before the window, the
lower portion of the latter should
be covered with a screen, so as to
have a top light alone, which
does not shine in the eyes when
the head is slightly bent over and
downward toward the work.
In the schools in Germany this
matter has already been attended
to and the rule adopted to have
all the seats and tables so ar
ranged that the pupils never face
the windows, but only have the
side lights from the left; and as
a light simultaneously thrown
from two sides gives an’ interfer
ence of shadows, it has been
strictly forbidden to build school
rooms with windows on both
sides, such illumination having
also proved injurious to the eyes
of the pupils.
We may add to this the advice
not to place the lamp in front of
you when at work in the evening,
but a little on one side; and
never to neglect the use of a
shade, so as to prevent the strong
light shining in the eyes. I’liis
is especially to be considered at
the present time, when kerosene
lamps, with their intensely himi-
nious flames, become move and
more common.'—Medical Journal.
PRESENT STATE OF THE
«AR»EN OF EDEN.
Prince de Ligne, countryman
and contemporary of Maria There
sa, wrote an essay “ On tlie Lo
cation of the Earthly Paradise,”
and, after some reflections on the
hygienic influence of different
climates, calls attention to the
fact that “ paradise traditions, in
locating the garden of Eden, dif
fer only in regard to longitude,
but not to latitude. The latitude
keeps always near the snow
boundary, a line just south of the
regions where snow may fall, but
will not stay on the ground. It
passes through Thibet, Cashmere,
Northern Persia, and Asia Minor,
and reaches the meridian of Eu
rope near the centre of the Medi
terranean.” The nations that
“celebrated life as a festival”
have lived along this line, and we
may doubt if in the most favored
regions of-the New World human
industry, with all the aid.s of
modern science, will ever reunite
the opportunities of happiness
which Nature once lavished on
lands that now entail only misery
on their cultivators. All over
Spain and Portugal, Southern It
aly, Greece, Turkey, Asia Minor,
Persia, and Western Afghanistan,
and throughout Northern Africa,
from Morocco to the valley of the
Nile, the aridity of the soil makes
the struggle for existence so hard
that to the vast majority of the
inhabitants life from a blessing
has been converted into a oiirso.
Sonthoi’ii Si)ain, from (libraltar
to tlie head ivaters of the Tagus,
maintains now only- about one-
tenth of its former population,
Greece about one-twentieth. As
late as A. 1). 670, a good while
after the rise of the Mohammedan
power, the country now known
as Tripoli, and distinct from the
Sahara only through the eleva
tion of its mountains, was the seat
of eighty-five Christian bishops,
and had a population of 6,000,000,
of which number three-quarters
of one per cent, are now left!
The climate which, according to
authentic description, must once
have resembled that of our South
ern Alleghanies, is now so nearly
intolerable that even the inhu
manity of an African despot for
bears to exact open-air labor from
9 a. m. to 5 p. m. Steamboats
that pass near the Tripolitan coast
in summer, on their way from
Genoa to Cairo, have to keep up
a continual shower of artificial
rain to save their deck-hands from
being overcome by the furnace
air that breathes from the barren
hills of the opposite coast. The
rivers of some of these countries
have shrunk to the size of their
former tributaries, and from Gi
braltar to Samarcand the annual
rainfall has become a chronic
complaint.
,And all this change is due to
the insane destruction of forests.
The great Caucasian sylvania that
once adorned the birth-land of
the white race from the Western
Pyrenees to the foot hills of the
Himalayas has disappeared; of
the forest area of Italy and Spain,
in the day-s of the elder Pliny,
about two acres in a hundred are
left; in Greece, hardly one. But
even the nakedness of the most
sterile tracts of Southern Europe
is exceeded by the utter desola
tion of tlie Ottoman’s provinces.
-^Central Frotestant.
A SUNNY TEMFEK.
OUIWIN OF “ilE HASAN AX TO
«KINU.’*
BEAUTIFIIE SOCIAE CUSTOMS.
Quite recently I visited a Ger
man widow living in a delightful
country- seat, with a little son of
eight and a daughter of five. As
we sat down to the well-spread
table, the little boy, folding his
hands and closing his ey-es, thank
ed our Father in heaven for the
food before us, and asked Him to
bless it. Then the little girl, in
childish accents, repeated, “Lord
Jesus be our guest. Come, and
this table bless, and do us good.”
The little ones were taught by
tlieir mother to think whom they
were addressing.
At several places where we
visited in Scotland, the youngest
child at the table asked the bless
ing, and the memory of those
sweet, low, reverential, childish
voices haunts us yet, as the echo
of some rich carol.
In some families there prevails
the beautiful custom of joining in
the Lord’s prayer at breakfast;
and in one that we visited oft last
summer, this was sometimes omit
ted, and in its place the 23rd
Psalm recited. For a Sunday
morning, after a week of plenty
and joy-, what can be more suit
able.
In other families the silent bles
sing is the custom; and very-
touching it is, too, for it seems
to make us realize tliat God is in
deed near, when we can give Him
thanks, though our lips move not.
—J'rcshijtcriun Juumal.
You gain nothing by fretting;
you only waste your strength by
it. Choose vour work, plan as
skilfully as you can, put y-our
whole heart into what you are
about to do, and leave the rest to
a kind Providence that overlooks
not a single one of ns. Ho y'ou
know how many years of your
life and happiness are mortyayed
bv this habit of worry-ing I And
after all, what does it accomplish I
How does it help you I How
much strength does it bring to
you in your labors and exertions I
None, none whatever. A ruffled
temper all the time throws to the
surface the “mire and dirt” of
the nature; it does not combine
the best elements, and help them
to work together to the best ad
vantage, but only the worst, and
gives them alone all the chance.
A beautiful, sunny temper is no
sign of weakness, as many sup
pose, but of strengtli and harmo
ny of character. It shows that
there is a power seated at tlie
centre of the being, that knows
howto administer the government.
Lord Clarendon w-rote of anger,
that it is the most impotent pas-
ion that occupies the mind of
man ; it effects nothing it goes
about, and hurts the man who is
possessed by it more than any
against whom it is directed. He
knew the human heart. The
worst of anger is, if you give the
reins to it for once, it is still moor
difficult for you to keep them
y-ourself the next time. But a
clieerful temper is like the genial
sun, in whose warm rays all men
like to bask. The possessor of
such a disposition may not, per-
hkps, make as many- stare and
tremble at his barbed phrases of
satire or scorn, but he will cer
tainly make more devoted and
loving friends, and, what is more,
be sure to keep them.
SMAEE THINOS TEST MEN.
In tilings small lie the crucibles ami
the toiielistoiies. Any hypocrite will
come to the Sabbath worship, but it is
not every liyiiocrite that will atteml
prayer-nieetiiigs, or read the Bible in
secret, or speak privately of the things
of God to the saints. You shall find
the same thing trae in other things.
A man who is no Christian very likely
will not tell you a down-right lie by
saying white is black, but he will not
hesitate to declare that whitey-brown
is white; he will go that length. How,
tlie Christian will not go half way to a
falsehood; nay, he scorns to go an
inch on that road. He will no more
che.at yon out of twopence farthing
tlian lie would out of two thousand
pounds. He will not rob you of an ell.
Even a I’harasee will ask Clirist to bis
house to sit at meat with him--he is
willing to entertain a great religious
leader at his table; but it is not every
one who \rill stoop down and unloosen
his shoes; for that every I’harasee
who made the feast never brought him
water to wasli his feet, nor gave him
the kiss of welcome, He proved the
insincerity of his hospitality by forget
ting the little things. I will be bound
to say Martha and Mary never forgot
to unloose his shoe-latches, and that
Lazurus never failed to see that His
feet were washed. Look, then, I pray
you, as Christians, to the service of
Christ in tlie obscure tilings, in the
things that are not recognized by men,
in the matters that ha\'e no honor at
tached to them, for by this shall your
love be
We owe more of our common,
sayings and pithy proverbs to Hi’.
Franklin tliaii many- of us think
or know. We say of one who
flatters or serves us for the sake
of some secret, selfish gain or
favor, “ He lias an ax to grind.”
In the Hoctor’s ‘ Memoirs ’ is the
following story (much after the
manner of the ‘whistle’ story),
which explains the origin of the
phrase:
Franklin says: “When I was
a little boy, I remember, one cold
winter morning, I was accosted
by a smiling man, tvith an ax on
his shoulder.
“ My little boy,” said he, “ has
your father a gfind stone I”
“ Yes, sir,” said I.
“You are a fine little fellow,”
said he. “ Will you let me grind
an ax on it 1”
Pleased with the compliment of
‘ a fine little fellow,’ “ 0 yes, sir,”
I answered; “ it is down in the
shop.”
“ And will you, my man,” said
he, patting me on the head, “ get
me a little hot water I”
How could I refuse? I ran,
and soon brought a kettle full.
How old are you ? and what*3
your name ?” continued he, with
out waiting for a reply; “I’m
sure you’re one of the finest lads
that ever I have seen. Will you
turn a few minutes for me ?”
Tickled with the flattery, like
a fool I went to work, and bitter
ly did I rule the day. It was a
new ax, and I toiled and tugged
till I was almost tired to death.
The school bell rang, and 1 could
not get aWay. My hands were
blistered, and it was not half
ground. At length, however, the
ax was sharpened, and the man
turned to me, saying:
“Now, you little rascal, you’ve
played the truant; liow, scud
away to school, or you’ll get it.”
Alas! thought I, it Was hard
enough to turn a grindstone this
cold day, but now to be called
rascal was too much. It sunk
deep in my mind, and often have
I thought of it since.
When I see a merchant over-
polite to his customers, begging
them to take a little brandy and
throwing liis goods on the coun
ter, thinks I, “ That man has aa
ax to grind.”
When I see a man flattering
the people, making great profes
sions of liberty, and prating loud
ly about economy, who is in pri
vate a tyrant, methinks, “ Look
out, good people, that fellow
would see you turning a grind
stone.”
Beware of people who pay
compliments when there is no
particular occasion for so doing.
They have an ax to grind and it
is not yoms.—Christian Advocate.
—Seost thou a man wise in his
own conceit I there is more hope
of a fool than of ffim.
Brougham, speaking of the sal
ary attached to the rumored ap
pointment of a new judgeship,
said it w-as all moonshine. Lynd-
hurst, in his dry and waggish
vva’V, remarked:’“It may be so;
but I bave a strong notion that,
moonshine though it bo, you
would like to see the first quarter
of it.”