Orphans’ Friend.
Price, $1 a year.)
OXFORD, N. C., MARCH 23, 1883.
(VOL. VIII. NO. 43
NORTH CAROLINA RIVERS.
M.V. MOORE IN harper’s MAGAZINE.
Carolina! Land of waters ! Here tbe
Strangest rivers are:
Ararat and Alligator, and the fa
mous stream of Tar.*
Broad and i'.ocky here are rivers ;
here are rivers old but New;
Yellow, Black, and silver Gieen, and
Whit,eoak,Bay,and Reddie too;
Here tlie whirling, wild Watauga,
leaping Elk, and crooked Toe, .
TahkeofetaluJ by the Paint i ock.and
the wingless Pigeon’s flow,
Tennessee and swift Hiawassee,gulf-
ward all through mountains go.
Where the Cherokee still lingers is
the nimble Nantahala;
In the landof Junaluskee is the Val-
ley, gurgling gayly ;
In the dismal lake-land is the viny
festoo.ied .^cuppernong;
In the cloud-house and sky-laud
Swannanoaskims along;
In the pine-lands over marl-beds ru
by wine-like Cashle creeps;
In the fern-land from t e B-.lsams
Tuckaseegee grandly leaps;
Here Oconi.luftee laughs, and wee
Cheowee frets and clashes,
And ’mid towering canons Linville’s
silvery spray spurts and splashes;
And here John, with sands ail golden,
’neath the rhododendrons dashes;
From Virginia come Meherrin. Not
toway, the deep and slow,
III the gray and yellow hill-land,
where tobaccos golden grow,
Tumbling, Dan and Mayo, Fisher,
Mitchell, I lit and Fno, go.
Here is Yadkin winding ever like a
serpent ’mid the bills ;
Here Oatawi a, pearly pebbled from
a thousand brawling rills;
Here’s Uwharie with its hurry, here
the lazy Waceamaw;
Here are heard the humming spindles
on tbe busy Deep and Haw ;t
Here in the field and swamp and for
est are the Lumber and Pedee,
And upon her breast Coharie, Colly
and the Mingo wee;
Here the Cape I'eaPs storied waters
grandly go to open sea;
Here Contentnea and Trent, pouring
into Neuse, find Ocracoke ;
Where the herring comes in Spring-
' time are Chowan and broad
Roanoke,
North and Newport, Yeopim, Pungo,
. Pasquotank and Pamlico,
Pentiego, and queer Perquimans—
here the millions come and go—
Dripping,gurgling, gushing,rushing,
tumbling, creeping, so they be,
Carolina’s Matchless rivers from
their fountains to the sea.
*The Indian word is Torpoeo, or Tau-
queoh.
JTlie Indian name of French Broad,
fl'he original name is Saxapahaw.
THE ORPHAN’S EATHER.
rev. C. H. SPURGEON.
“For in thee the fatherless flndeth
mercy.”—^Hosea 14:3.
The Lord God of Israel,
the one only living and true
Grod, has this for a special
mark of His character, that in
Him the fatherless findeth
mercy. “A Father of the tas
therless, and a judge of the
widows, is God in His holy
habitation.” False gods of the.
heathen are usually notable
for their wickedness,falsehood,
lustfulness, and cruelty; but
our God who made the heav
ens, is the Thrice Holy One.
He is the holy God, and He
is also full of love. Indeed
it is not only His name, and
His character, but His very
nature, for “God is love.”
Among the acts which exhibit
His love is this—that He ex-
ecuteth righteousness and
judgment for all tliat are op
pressed, and specially takes
under His wing the defence
less ones, such as the widow
and the fatherless.
This is very notable if you
look into the subject in con
nection with holy Scrip
ture. We see this soon after
the giving of the law. We have
the law in the twentieth chap
ter of Exodus; and in the
twenty-second chapter of the
same book, close upon the
heels of toe law, you hare
God’s word concerning the
tatherless. Listen to Jeho-
vali’s words; they are strong
and forceful; there is a thnns
der about their sound. “Ye
shall not afflict any widow or
fatherless child. If thou af
flict them i;i anywise, and they
cry at all unto Me, I will sures
ly hear their cry; and My
wrath shall wax hot, and I
will kill you with the sword;
and your wives shall be wid
ows, and your children father
less.’’ d hese are the words of
that Jehovah who spoke tbe
ten commands on Sinai. See
how very
NEAR TO THE HEART OF OUR GOD
lies the cause of the widow
and the fatherless.
The Lord gave the law a
second time in the book of
Deuteronomy. If you tirrn to
the tenth chapter of that book,
at the seventeenth verse, you
will find such a statute as
this: “For the Lord your God
is God of gods, and Lord of
lords, a great God, a mighty,
and a terrible, which regard •
eth not persons, nor taketh
reward; He doth executerthe
judgment of thefatherlesi^and
widow, and Ibveth the -fetran-
ger, in giving him food and
raiment.’’ Those are two
strong and striking proofs of
the fact that the cause of the
fatherless lies„ near to the
heart of God.
LAWS WERE MADE ON THEIR
BEHALF,
and among the rest was the
institution of tithes, .
Now, if you will turn to
Scripture, you will find that
the tithe cf all the produce of
the land was to be given to
the Levite and to the stranger,
and to the widow and the fa
therless; and whenever tithe
comes to be properly distribu
ted, if there be any divine
right in it at all, it will most
certainly be given to the wid
ow and the fatherless.: We
should agree to its being given
in part to the Levite when he
turns up, but as we do not
know who the Levite is at
present, we may keep his por
tion in abeyance till he ap
pears. But the widow and
the fatherless are still here
among us, and the poor shall
never ceaseout of the laud; and
the institution of the tithe
was as much for them as it
was for the tribe of Levi, let
have their share.
The tribe of Levi had cer**
tain rights, because, while the,
other tribes had each one a
portion, that tribe had no in
heritance, and therefore took
out its share in having a part
of the tithe, and certain cities
to dwell in. Read Deuterono^
my 14: 29: “And the Levite,”
(because he hath no part ndr
inheritance with thee), “and
the fatherless, and the widow,
which are withifi thy gates,
shall come, and shall eet and
be satisfied; that the. Lord thy
God inay bless thee in all tbe
work of thine hand which
thou doest.” I see clearly the
right of the widow and the fa
therless, and I pray that the
day may come when they
will get their share of what is
undoubtedly theirs, if
anybody's at all.
Anotlier ordinance was
made about the widow and the
fatherless- -that when the peo
ple gathered in the harvest, if
they omitted
A SHEAF OF CORN,
they were never to go back
for it but were to leave it for
the widow and the fatherless.
•When thou cuttest down th;y
harvest in thy field, thou shalt
not go again to fetch it; it shah
be for the stranger, for tbefa^
tfierloss, and for the widow;
that the Lord thy God may
bless thee in all the work of
thine hands."’’ In gathering in
the corn the field was raked,
but all that fell was left to tbe
widow and the fatherless. It
was expressly commanded
that when they gathered
grapes they were never to
gather a second time, but
were to leave the bunches to
be ripened for the widow and
the fatherless.” “When thou
beatest thine olive-trees, thou
slittlt not go over the boughs
again; it shall be for tbe stran
ger, for tbe fatherless, and for
the widow.”
No body was forgotten in
the divine rule when Jehovah
was King in Isreal; but espe
cial mention was continually
being made of hese two class
es—the widow and the father
less, and the poor strangers
that happened to be within
Israel’s gates. “Thou shalt be
kind to the stranger,” said the
Lord, “because thou wast a
stranger in the land of Egypt,
and’thou knowest the heart of
a stranger.’^ I call your special
attention to this, and beg you
to look through Scripture, and
see how again and again
God calls upon His people to
take care of the widow and
fatherless. ' Job, that upriglit.
ma 1 whom God accepted,dis
claimed for hpmself the charge
that he had ever forgotten the
widow and the fatherless; and
you know how under theNew
Testatnent, it is written,
“Pure religion and undefiled
before God and the Father is
this. To visit the fatherless
and wido_ws in their affliction,
and to keep himself unspotted
from the world.”
It is established, then, that
God, even the God of Israel,
is one in whom the father ess
findeth mercy; let us take care
of them too. “Be ye imitators
of God as dear children,” and
select as thh objects of your
charity those whom God spe^
cially cares for.
THE MORTGATE.
We worked througli spring and winter,
’thro’ summer and through fall,
But the moitgate worked the hardest
aud the steadiest of us all.
It worked on nights and Sundays ; it
worked each lioliday;
It settled down among us, and it never
went away.
Whatever we kept from it seemed al
most as bad as theft;
It watched us every minute, and it ruled
us right and left.
The rust and blight were with us some
times and sometimes were not;
The dark-browed, scowling mortgage
was forever on the spot. '
The weevil and the cut-worm, they
wcnfas well as came,
The mortgage staj'cd forever, eating
heartily all the same.
It nailed up every window, stood guard
at every door,
And happiness and sunshine made their
lioino with us no more.
Till with failing crops and sickness we
got stalled upon the grade,
And there came a dark day oil us when
the interest wasn’t paid.
And there came a sharp foreclosure,aad
I kind o’ lost my hold,
And grew weary and discouraged, and
the farm ivas cheaply sold,
The children left and scattered, when
they hardly yet were grown;
My wife she pined an’ perished, an’ I
found myself alone.
’What she died of was a “mystery,” an’
the doctors neyer knew,
But I knew she died of mortgage—Just
as well as I wanted to.
If to trace a hidden sorrowwere within
the doctor’s art,
TheyUl ha’ found a mortgage lying on
that woman's broken heart.
Worm or beetle, drought or tempest, on
a farmer’s laud may fall.
But for lirst-elass ruination, trhst a
mortgage ’gaiust them all.
— WiU M. Carlton.
Smith Washington, an aged
colored African,whitewa8hed tl e
fence of an Austin banker for a
dollar -and a quarter, which the
banker paid him in Mexican qua-
ters at par. Several days rolled
away into eternity before Smith
Washington had any occasion to
put bne of these Mexican quarters
into circulation, but when he
attempted to do so, he was shock
ed at the twenty per cent, dis-
count. His feelings were hurt,
too. He lifted up his voice and
said; “Jess ter think ob a banker,
in whom I had ebery confidence
in de world, beating me out ob a
quater ob a dollar. I ’lowed he
was an honest man. I haden^t
orter tuck de job in the fust
place,aud then he added more
cheerfully; “But ef I hadn’t tuck
de job to whitewash the fencO;
[ never would hab found out
whar de chickens roosted, and as
I sold four dollars wufl'ob chick
ens next morning, de bank hain’t
cotch up wid me yet.’'—Texas
Siftings.
, DAVIDSON COLLEGE.
Davidson was named for
Gen. Wm. L. Davidson who
was killed in tbe engagement
between the Americans and
British,on the 1st of February,
1781, at Cowan’s ford, on the
Catawba river. This ford is
about seven miles west of
where tiie college now stands.
The men who so heroically
resisted tlie British invasion,
were, almost to a man, farm**
ers. Even the mechanics and
citizens among them, were aL
so as a general thing, farmers
and landowners The sons of
these men founded Davidson
College as a manual labor in
stitution. The manual labor
feature made the enterprise
very popular. Three hours a
day were to be devoted to la>*
bor. After about five years
trial, this system was abolish
ed.
On recently asking an old
citizen who lived at the coK
lege, the reason why this step
was decided upon, he ans^ver-
ed “0, the boys would not
work!’ Another person said
‘This system has always fail
ed—you can no more unite
manual labor and study than
you can oil and water!’
But my whole heart revolts
from this statement. In our
country the farming class are
so numerous that they may
be said to form the State.
When Louis the XIV exclaim
ed; in his arrogant pride, ‘I
am the State,’ he was uttering
a false sentiment, and plan ■
ting th''; seeds of the bloody
French revolution.
But for American farmers
toinscrilie upon their banners,
‘We art! the State!’ would be
only enunciating a simple,
eelDevident Ruth.. Not only
on account of their over«pow>
ering uumbors do they con
stitute the State, but accor
only truly independent class.
They produce the textiles to
feed the factories, the food to
feed the world. It is scarcely
half a century since the far
mers’ wives and daughters sat
at their picturesque little spin
ning wheels, and produced
the flax, cotton aud woolen
thread wliicli clothed their
families.
Extremes meet.—Queen
Victoria and her daughter the
Princess Beatrice ply llie nee«
dies to knit warm coverings
for the infirm soldiers in the
hospital. Fashionable ladies
knit warm, heavy, beautiful
‘Afghans’ which surpass the
most beautiful productions of
the mills. They also knit caps
and coats and sacks and skirts
and wear them with pride,
proving that the instincts of
the ‘spinster’ cannot be crush
ed out of their natures. The
word ‘wife’ conies from weav
er; and in old English law
books,the unmarried woman is
always designated a ‘spinster,’
showing that even in the mat- i
ter of clothing, the farming
class could be still, if they
chose, independent of all the
world; and not, only rival, but
surpass the productions of the
manufacturers. But no living
man can be independent of
the farmer.
Therefore the education of
the farming class should be of
the best, and hot of the worst.
Their colleges should have
the costliest buildings, the
ablest professors; the largest
libraries,the finestiportrait gal
leries, the rarest museuuus and
collections of specimens elu
cidating natural history. The
farmer being the unit of which
the state is aggregated, ought
to be a scholar and a gentle'*
man; and still he should know
how to follow successfully the
noblest, most natural, and
most necessary of liuman em
ployments, the production of
ufood.and textiles for the pop
lation.—Cor. N. G.Presbyterian.
THE SAFEST WAY TO SILENCE
EVIL TONGUES.
In this country there was a
circuit judge who was always
sure of meeting some cutting or
sneering remarks from a self-con
ceited lawyer when he came to
certain town in the rounds.
This was repeated one day at
dinner, when a gentleman present
said, “Judge, why don’t you
squelchthatfellow?’' Thejudge,
dropping his knife and fork, and
placing his chin upon his hands,
and his elbows on the table, re
marked, “Up in our town a wid
ow" woman has a dog that, when
ever the moon shines, goes out
upon the stebs and barks and
barks ail night.” Stopping short,
he quietly resu;ued eating. Af
ter waiting some time, it was
asked, “Well, judge, what of the
dog and the moon?” “Oh,” he
said, “the moon kept on shining.”
True it is that the world some
times is slow to recognize real
worth, often conferring her lau
rels on those who least deservo
them. But one’s influence roils
on through time; blessing, it may
be, generations yet unborn. John
Bunyan was despised, persecuted
and imprisoned years ago; but
For nearly a dozen years
Verplanck Colvin Jias been
surveying the mountains of ~
Nortliorn New York. On tlie
summit of each inomitiiiii he
places a square of tin, so that
when the sun Is shining these
dazzling sigua'.s can bo seen
forty miles. Slowly and care
fully his party pushed up the
rugged sides of Mt. Marcy
till they came within fifteen
minutes of tlie siumnit. Tl is
distance was accomplished
witli mucli difficulty, but res**
olute in spirit tlu'v toiled on
till they reached the top, over
five thousand feet above the
world beneath. Colvin looked
away toward the northwest,
and in dim outline could be
seen the sliadowy forni.s of
the granite hills of New Hamp
shire, one liundred and fifty
miles away; he saw the placid
Hudson at its source gently
flowing to the great salt sea;
hero and there some limpid
lake sparkled like a diamond
oo the bosom of the earth;
the scene was grand. But
what must have been most
satisfactory to the engineer,
were the little glimmering
lights from a huiidred peaks,
which .spoke loudly of h.s
daring and skill. Standing
on 'is lofty eminence, he
thought of the hardships lie
bad undergone, and tficii, en
tranced by the grandeur of
the panorama spread out be
fore him lie exclaimed, ‘•’I'/iis
amply repays all my exer
tions,”
There are hundreds of men
moving on in the quiet valley
of mediocrity who lucjc the
push and energy to climb the
mountains, with which they
are encompassed. On te.uir
rugged sides are written, emi
nence, in'luence, and power.
Though the way bo toilsome,
yet by a resolute heart each
difficulty will be overcome,
little by Utile, aud tbe very
obstacles will become stop
ping-stones upon which to
rise higher. And when, at last,
the summit of ambition is
reached and one gazes on the
shining signals of success
which have marked Ins pro
gress, he can say, with Colvin,
“The end gained has ampl}-
repaid all my exertions ”
A lady appLod to a certain
philanthropist on behalf of uii
orphan child. When he had
bidden her draw on him for any
amount, she said, “As soon as the
child is old enough, I will teach
him to thank you.” “Stoji,"’
said the good man, “you are
mistaken. We do not thank the
clouds for rain. Teach the child
to look higher, aud to than.c Him
for both the clouds and the rain."
If temptations w ;re not urgent
enough to reejuire strong resolu
tion aud real self-denial to over
come them, what would they
amount to as tests of priueiple.
Character is nof acquired with
out testing aud labor. Let us
not complain that temptations
beset, but rather pray that when
they come we may be prepared
to meettitem as Christians.
onLutc Liavj to-dsCy we reverence the work
difig to Du Quesual, they are of his lonely hoars revere his
the only producing class, toe [name. '
I'he faithful, earnest perform
ance of duty, be it ever so humble
brings a rich re.vai'd, and
tbe inner conciousness of work
well done will be fur more sat
isfactory than fame or gold-