i
VOLU.^rK IL
Tii'To’f^ o^ily Olio (»ii wljoso (.U*;\r arm
\\'e s:ifi‘!y lay our tlimiirlits to rest;
'J’lii'i'e’s only Oi!C wln) kr.uws itm di'ptli
Of serrow it) each strijki-u hreast.
Tla're’a only klnc wlio ]\iio\vs tlirtnitli
Amid this u'm id's lUccit ami ii(s;
Thfic's only oik‘ who \'icws eacii ease'
Witii njiseltish, caiidiJ (‘yes !
'rin re’s only One who marks tlu; wish,
Xm- crLK'lly, severely hlamea ;
There’s jnly One too lull oi' love
To piir aside the weakest dainis.
There's only One, wIhmi ufme are hy,
'To wipe away the fallinir tear;
'J'here's »nly One to lieai tlie wound,
And slay the ^Yeak one’s timid fear.
Tlierc’s tmly Ommvho imderstands
And entiTs iiUtt all wi* feel ;
'^herl^ only (due tvlio views eacdi spiiniri
And each j)er[iU‘xing wheel in wheel.
Tlien-’s only One 'who will ahide
When lovc-d ones in ihf!grav(‘ are cedd ;
There’s only (>ue wlto’ll (jo u ith me
When this long painful journey’s toid.
0 hles.^ed Jesus ! Friend of friends!
Cuine hide ns’nt'atli thy shehei-iuii: arm ;
('pnio down amid this wicked world.
And k>.-ep us from its guilt and liarm.
€AV11.
There are few Sunday Scliool
children who do not understand
what is meant b\' the w’oid caves.
Thev know they are hollow places
■under the ground, and imagine
inaiiv wonderful things concern
ing them ; especially do the}'
delight in the aiiticijtation of ex
ploring one of these .subterraneous
caverns. This romantic interest
in the unknown, in the stra.nge
and mvsterious, is not im|)iiinted
ill our uatiire.s merely to give us
pleasure, but to couipei us to
stuilv and seare.h out tlie liidden
things not oiilv in ami iiuder the
earlii, but iu heaveuiy places.
There arc i'ew who have not
heard of the Uavo of Auuiliiui,
where the voutiifii! David hid
froir. his eiieuiV, ami ot th-e mn’t
‘■on the other side of the ‘Little
lieruiou,’” inhabited by the Witch
ot h.mlor; tdstt ot the C.hivo ot
Machpelali—the double cave—
where the .h'ricud ot God’’ bur
ied his wife, Sarah.
Main- children lake unceasing
deligiit !■' reading of the magiiiti
cent caverns, bhizing with g'ohi
ami imvels, so frequeutl}’ lueii-
tioiied iu .the “Arabian Nights
Mutertainmeuts.” I'liere is a wou-
(Icrtui charm 'hanging al'out the
ctive of the Forty Thievos ami
the magic words “Open sesame.’
Tile Gave of Maniuioii i.s one
more marvelou.s .still, w here thi,--
iiiouey-god tried to entice the eit-
kuiglit, Guvon, to bow down ami
worship him. He led him through
room after room in his cavern,
each exceediipo' the others in
quantities of gold, and also in the
dreadful scenes that met tliem ; t
every turn. The doors opened of
their own accord, the roof, and
floor, and walls were all ot gold ;
but every evil passion dwelt there
in horrid" form, and but a “narrow
stride” divided it from a ])lace
deeper, darker, and yet more
dreadful. The gentle knight
could not be tempted to accept
Mammon’s “ olfered grace,” but
boldly answered,
“ Auother blis.s Tofere miue oyos I place—
j^noilier happines.'', another end ;
Ail that I need I have : what needeth ino
To covet more ibaii I have cause to use !”
I do not wisli to describe any
ot these more jiarticularlv now—
not even the celebrated Alammoth
Cave, in .Kentucky, which the
children would call a sure-enough
cave—but there is one about
waich I would like to .tell every
OXF(3RD. N. C., WEDNESDAY, DECEMISEK 20^ 187G."
Sunday School scholar. It. is the
largest, darkest, and most dismal
cave in the whole world. There
is some light, but it is the light of
smoking, evanescent torches, or
ot piltul, glimmering fires. ’J’here
are no open ways through which
ii man may walk uprightlv ; there
is no firm, solid ground upon
which ho may tread, feeling that
his pathwav is secure. There are
no glittering gems of Truth ; no
crystallizations of Ileauty ; no
sweet, trickling streams nor spark
ling cascades of Purity ; no broad
arche.s nor strong columns of
Knowledge; no wonderful ar
cades, no far-i'eaching aisles of
Fancy ; and, alas ! no deej), deal-
rivers ot Tlioiight. And yet this
cave is full of human beings ! It
is Plato’s Gave of Ignorance. Tiiat
wise, good man said, manv hun
dred yeais ago, that men without
education are like beings confined
in such all underground dwelling
as this. From childhood and up
ward they have been confined
there, with chains iqton their
necks and legs, sti thev have the
power of looking- forward onlv.
They hear nothing but the eclioes
ot tiieir own inharmonious voices,
and see nothing but the shadows
that fall from the tire on the op
posite side of the cave, d’hese
shadows—distorted images as they
iirn, now' Inigliteiiing now fading
with the chanoiiig, flickering light
of the lire—are the onlv exliibi-
tions of life they have; and here
the} must stay just so long as
the}- will to do so. “There is a
powojr abiding in the soul’’ bv.
wiiicli overv person can lift him-
sell' tij) out ot tills ca\'e, and
“ Kiio-iv tln self” is the “ Op'en
.S'.'s.aim.' ” wi'itteit over tlie temple
.iloni- of each hum in heart, so that
“ he t.iiit run,‘til mav read it.”
Edncatinn is, literallv, the pro-
ce.'is of leading the mind out of
such a ca\-ei'ii as this into tlie
warm sunlight of Knowledge, and
the clear, breezy atmospliei-e ol
Trntii.
How ni'anv Bmiday School
cl'.ildreii will .strive against sliding-
down into the Gave of ignorance ?
—Sdeded.
A wa.y-a'jjE,-^-i.iv.
VGlieu }-on have found a man
von have not tar to go to find a
gentlenian. Yon cannot make a
eohl ring- out ot orass. You can
not change a Gape May cr}-stal
to a diamond. You cannot make
a gentleman tilt you first find a
man,
A gentleman is just a gentlc-
mait—no more, no less—a dia
mond polished that rvas first a
diamond in the rough. A gentle
man is gentle. A gentleman is
modest. A gentleman is courte
ous. A gentleman is slow to take
offence, as being one who never
gives it. A gentleman is slow to
surmise evil, as being one wlio
never thinks it. A gentleman
subjects bis appetite. A gentle
man refines his taste. A gentle
man subdues his feelings. Agon
tleman controls bis speech. A
gentleman deems every other
better than himseif
Sir Philip Sidney was iievor so
much of a gentleman—mirror
tbougb be was ol English knight
hood—as when upon the field ol
Zntphen, as ho lay in his own
blood, he waived tiie draught of
cool spring water which was to
quench his thirst, iu favor ol a dy
ing’ soldier.
St. Pan! describes a gentleman
when ho exhorts the Phillippian
Gliristians : “Whatsoever thinj.s
are true, whatsoever things are
honest, whatsoevertliings are just,
w'hatsoever things are pure, what
soever things are lovely, whatso
ever things are of good report; if
there be any virtue, and if there
be any praise, think on tliese
things.” And Dt- Isaac Harlow,
in his admirable sermon on the
callings of a gentleman, pointed
ly says: ‘Tie should labor and
study to be a leader unto virtue,
and a notable jn-omoter thereof;
direetiiig and exciting men there
to by Ills exemplary conversa
tion ; encouraging them bv lii.s
countenance and autlioritv ; re
warding the goodness of meaner
people by his bounty and favor ;
lie Sijiould be such a gentleman as
Noah, who preached I'ighteous-
ness by his woids and works be
fore a profane world.” He who
can look up to his God with the
most belie\ing confidence is sure
to look most geiitlv on hisfcllow-
me;i ; while he who shudders to
lift his eves to heaven often casts
the haughtiest glances on the
things ot earth.
i^ivc thiit tlie r;uliei!ce of tliy life may be
A li.itlii to wauik'rors on lifc'sijtonn-swept sea--
A lii^ht .hat ev(‘r f-l.iaeth tlirongb the ilark,.
Wai’iiiiij,' f.(j n tretiebeiTtas saud.-s e;tcl’ human
bai'k.
EL5i:PE2AAT8 AT
A oorrespoiuleiit of th.e New
York Observer writes: “I was
surju'i.sed to witnes.s the intolli-
gciice of some of these useful an
imals. d’hey are emplor'cd on
the public works, and their enor
mous strength enable.s them with
apparent ease to draw stones of
great niagiiitiide, and, what is
mori;, to place them where needed.
They are used in the contsruefion
of bridges, and will work in the
water all (lav. d'bey will push a
stone as carefidly a.'i a gang ot
men. ft is interesting- to see these
huge uiiiinals move about until
thev get a secii-re place to stand,
and then exert tiieir amazing
strength in moving a stone just as
tlie mason waves his hand. In
the large timber yards of India
these useful animals are very ex
tensively used. It is only neces-
sarv to watch one for a little
wiiile to be s-itisfied of the won
derful strength as well as sagacity
of these animals. They are ein-
[iloyed in d awing and fiiting the
luige logs used in si ip-buildiiig,
Tliey will draw largo logs over
very rough roads from the forests.
They will take up a log weighing-
two tons on their tusks and hold
it in its j)lace with their proljoscis,
and carry it apparo’.itly with more
ease than fifty coolies would.
IVlien one of these sagacious an
imals has brought you a log from
a jiile, you may send him tor the
next log by merely jioiiiting at
it, and he will toil patiently all
day and make piles of logs, and
as nicely ns a gang of men could
do. They are always very care
ful not to iiijiii'e their tusks, es
pecially not to break them near
their heads. One man, wh.o had
a lai-go lumber and timber yard,
said it took over a vear to teach
his elephant the lumber business;
but, he added, ho never forgot.
Tliese trained elephants will bring
i'l India from five liundred to
three thousand repees each, d.;-
pending- upon the sagacity of the
animals.”
SO.-V« os-' TCSE S'a'AKLS.\« ..\A»
B01t0l.9.\K.
If California lias no mocking
bird, like the South, and.no bob
olink, like.New England, jt nev
ertheless has a starling. The
song of the bobolink is a sort of
eetasy—“pure rapture,” as Ike
Marvel says—the inspiration of
its favorite clime is the Carolinas,
and it .‘lings never so well as when
swaying- blithely on a wind-rock
ed bush. The mocking-bird, too,
sings with a Southern abandon,
shaking from his little tliroat
“floods of delicious music.” But
the starling lias the richest voice.
It sits all the morning in the
modest ])lace it loves—generally
hidden in the Imsh—anrl from the
tulhiess of its own deep and tpiict
joy jiours ioitli the incomparable
sweetness of its orisons. It needs
no spurts and jiimp.s of coqueti-y,
no flitting and swinging on the
busii, and flasliing of gaudy col
ors in the situ, to trill forth its
peerless song. In my opinion the
California starling is the one
perfect singer of our continent.
France li.as never produced a
contralto singer, and Italy can
boast but little more ; but ice
bound Scaiidiiiaviagives us Jeunv
Liiid and Nilsson. ’The flip[)ant
songsti'rs of the sunny South (for
the bobolink is near!}' Southern)
ca*n never compare with the stal
ling, dwelling in the cool and
changeless mountain-valleys ol
Galifoiiiia.—Selected.
WE5>I>S.\«« !.>■ IlOS-iSlEO,
On the weduing-dav' tlie bride
and bride-groom are brouglit from
opposite ends of the village to the
spot where the ceremon v is to be
performed. They are made to
sit on two bars of iron, that bless
ings as lasting and healih ,as vig
orous may iittend the pair. A
cigar and a betui leaf, jirepared
with the areca nut, are next pat
into the hands of tiie bride and
bridegroom. One ot the priests
then waves two fowls over the
lieads ol the couple, and, in along
address to the Supreme Being,
calls down blessings upon the
pair, and implores that peace and
hapjiiness may attend the union.
xYfter the heads of the affianced
have been knocked against each
other three or fourtinies, thebride-
groom puts the prepared leaf and
cigar into the mouth of tiie bride,
while she does the same to him,
whom slie thus acknowledges as
her husband
None but the eye of Omns-
cieiice can pas.s a fair and just
jiidg-enient on the issues of life.
Our unfruitfuliK-ss is great, our
sins greater, but God’s mercies
greater than botli.
NIDIBER ,bl.
Ajivk.'e oi;,vTis.—A (jnack doc
tor advertises to this effect ;
‘ Cougli while you can ; foi- afier
yon have taken one bottle of m\
mixture, vou can’t.”
“I take my text dis niornl ig,”
said a colored preacher, “froiti
dat itorlion ob de Scriptures wliar
lie I’ortol Raul jiiiits his pistol to
de F(.esions.”
“Home’s the place for boys,”
said a stern parent to bis son,
who was fond of going out at
»igkfi
“d’hat’s just wliat I fliink when
vou drive me oft' to school every
morning-,” said the son.
“.Pa, is Pennsvlvania the fa
ther of all the otlier States ?”
■‘Gortaiiih’ not, inv child ; wliv'
do yon ask that question I” “Be
cause I see all the newapi pers
call it Pa.”
The aiiproacliing marriage of
the Earl of Rosebery with tin-
only cliild of the late Baron
-Meyer de Rothschild has raised a
slight flutter in the higher circles
of English societv. Among the
Hebrews, especially the rahbis,
wl'.o regard with marked disfavor.
Jlixed marriages between Jew
and gentile are their abomination.
This will be the third marrige
contracted between a female
Ivotliscliild and a member of the
British aristocracy. Sir Anthoii}'
Rothschild’s daughter married a
brother of Lord Ilardwicke, the
Hon. Eliot Yorke, M. P. I'orGam-
bridgeshire. Jt is conceded in
England that tlie Eai-1 of Rose
bery is the liiost rising jteer on
tlie Liberal side in the Hoiuo of
Lords. The late baron was a
g-reat sporting man, and was very
mucli attached to Lord Rosebery,
who is now to take to himself one
of the most amiable, if not the
liaadsomest, of all the Rotlischild
ladies, who, by tlie way, is tlie
richest heiress in tlie world. He
left eight millions of money, and
hi.s daughter, being liis onl}' cliild,
received seven out of the eight
under her father’s will.
A priifessor was expo.stulatiug
with a student for his idlones.s,
when the latter said, “It’s of no
use ; I was cut out for a loafer.”
“Well,” declared the piolessor,
surveying the student critically,
“whoever cut )-ou.out, understood
I his business.”
The bust of Charles Kiiigsle-y
has just been unveiled in the li.i])-
tistery of Westminster Abbe\-.
This is becoming a second, ‘Roots’
Corner,’ the statue of M’onlsworth
and the busts ol Keble atid Mau
rice being already placed there,
and the stained widow tlirough
which tlie light shines on the
brows of .Kingsley and Maurice
has in it the figures of George
Herbert and Gowper. The cerc-
moiiy was very simple. ilr,
Maurice Kingsty drew the cloth
away in the presence of a small
group of the family and some few
intimate friends, and Gallon
Duckwortli, who succeeded. Jlr.
Kingsley in Ids canoiirv, said a
few graceful words as an cloyc,
Ttie bust itself is an extremely
fine work, equal to anv tliing ilr.
AVooluer has done. Jt is fitly
placed hard b}- that of Maurici--,
and the presence of Keble also
Old}- Serves to point the fact that
all theological controversies are
are stilled in the grave, and that
tlie fiery soul tvhich fretted
Cliarles Kingsley’s body, and the
sweet singer who was an acrinio-
iiioiis controversialist are both at
rest, where beyond these voices
there is peace. ,
mmtii
iaittik