VOL. HI.
OXFORD, N. C., WEDNESDAY, MARCH 14, 1877.
NO. 11.
VAW ECKKKLEA’S COA'l’KACX.
On tlie eiglitli day of October,
1682, John Van Eckkelen and
tlie Consistory of Flatbnsli, Long
Island, entered into the following
remarkable contract:
Art. 1. Tlie school sliall begin again
at 8 o’clock, and go out at 11; shall
begin again at 1 o’clock and end at 4.
The bell shall be rung before the school
coininences.
Art. 2. When school begins, one of
the children .shall read the morning
prayer a.s it stands in the catechism,
and close with the jirayer before din
ner; and in the afternoon, the same.
The evening school shall begin with
the Lord’s Trayer, and close by .sing
ing a p.salm.
Art. 3. lie shall instruct the chil
dren in the common prayers; and the
(piestions and answmrs of the catechi.sm,
on Wednesdays and Saturdays, to en
able them to say them better on Sun
day in the church.
Art. 4. lie shall be required to keep
his school nine months in succession,
from September to June, one year
with another; and shall always be
2)re.sent himself.
Art. 5. He shall be chorister of the
church, keep the church clean, ring
the bell three times before the people
assemble, and reail a chapter of the
liible in the church between the second
and third ringing of the bell; after
the third ringing, he shall read the
ton commandments, and the twelve
articles of our faith, and then set the
2)salm. In the afternoon, after the
third ringing of the bell, he shall read
a short chapter, or one of the jisalins
of David, as the congregation are as
sembling; afterwards he shall again
sing a iisalm or hymn.
Art. (i. When the minister shall
jireach at lirooklyn or Utrecht, he
shall be bound to road twice before
the congregation, from the book used
for the puiqiose. He shall hear the
children recite the questions and an-
sw'ers out of the catechism on Sunday,
and instruct them therein.
Art. 7. He shall provide a basin of
water for the administration of Holy
Baptism, and furnish the minister
with the name of the child to be bap
tized, for which he shall receive tivelve
stivers in wainjium for every baptism,
from the p.arents or sponsors. He shall
furnish bread and wine for the com
munion, at the charge of the church.
He shall also serve as messenger for
the con.sistory.
Art. 8. He shall give the funeral
invitations, dig the grave, and toll the
bell; and for which he shall receive,
for jiersons of fifteen years of age and
upwards, twmlve guilders; and for
persons under fifteen, eight guil.lers;
and if he shall cross the river to Kew
York, he shall have four guilders more.
The school money.—1st. He .shall
receive, for a speller or reader, three
guilders a quarter; and for a writer,
four guilders, for the day school. In
the evening, four guilders for a sjieller
or reader, and five guilders for a writer,
jier quarter.
2d. The residue of his salary shall
be four hundred guilders in wheat, (of
wanquim value,) deliverable at Brook
lyn Uerry, with the dwelling, i)a.stur-
age, and meadow aiipertaining to the
school.
Done and agreed upon in consistory,
under the insiiection of the honorable
constable and overseers, this 8th day
ot October, 1682. Signed by Casper
Van Zuren and the consistory.
I agree to the above articles, and
jiromisc to observe them.
Johannes Van Eckkelen.
A DASilSIl EAADSCAPE.
We were at Nybork, on the
sliores ot the Great Belt. Instead
of going on board the vessel
wliich crossed the strait, we took
our places in one of the large cars
of the country, drawn by three
horses abreast, which started
with us at full trot along the coast
road.
Tills was the first time we had
seen a real northern landscape.
The green-tinted sea was gently
rippling on the sandy shore ;
extensive and unvarying plains
were stretched before us, sur
rounded by w'oods of beech and
birch. Here and there, cultivated
fields relieved tlie pale verdure of
the meadows or the dark trenches
of the bogs. From time to time
were to be seen a park, vvitli its
lawns and well-kept flower-beds,
and an elegant house half hidden
behind a grove of trees; them
farms and agricultural buildings
surrounded by fields of thin and
short-stalked corn ; an orchard of
fruit-trees; and heads of cattle
returning from the pasture. We
passed, on the sea-shore, a live
ly fishing village full of small
houses, with roofs nearly flat;
the bricks as well as the wood
work were painted with gaudy
colors, the windows glittered in
the sun, and on the ridge of each
roof was a carving rudely rep
resenting the prow of a vessel.
Through the open hall doors you
could see neat and clean rooms.
The fishing-nets were spread on
the shore to dry ; the boats were
drawn up ; the women and chil
dren looked at us with curious
eves; and the men raised their
woolen caps to salute us. They
are robust and vigorous aod.
quiet and good natureh'."'Vhese
excellent people, who enjoy such
a calm and orderly existence, who
live honestly on the ])roduce of
their fishing, and practice all the
virtues of dome.stio life, are nev
ertheless decended from the bold
pirates whose terrible exploits
were the terror of the seas; who
in the ninth century, sailed up
the Seine as far as Paris, and in
the twelfth, seized upon the Crown
of England. These men, whose
honesty and royalty reminded us
of the "Golden Age, seem to have
no idea that their ancestors were
such audacious corsairs.
We have now left the coast,
the road turns inland; wo tra
verse a forest, with solitude all
around us. An old woman pass
es bending under an enormous
bundle ot grass mixed with flow
ers, on which a small lean cow
feeds as she walks behind her.
On the doorstep of the cottage
are three children eating with a
good appetite some coarse black
bread. Nothing is heard among
the large trees but the foot-steps
of the horses, and the harsh and
hoarse shouts of the driver ; we
ourselves are silent. All is quiet,
tranquil; a sweet melancholy and
an indefinable feeyng of sadness
pervade both man and nature.
The light is softened as if it pass
ed through a screen of gauze ; the
effects of light and shade are
toned down ; there is nothing to
arrest the eye, nothing to attract
or detain it. The silence is deep
and profound; no cries are to be
heard, no song, only a slight
twittering of birds hidden in the
foliage, the lowing of an ox, or
the noise of a cart, whose wheels
grate on their axel. Then, all at
once, the prospect widens, our
team starts off more rapidly, the
conductor cracks his whip loudly,
and, just as the sun is about to
disappear beneath the horizen,
we see a group of habitations reg
ularly arranged. The roofs are
red, the last rays of the setting
sun glitter on walls ot varnished
pinewoods, a bell rings to an
nounce our arrival, the carriage
passes through the large gateway,
turns into the courtyard, and stops
before a house, under the vei’an-
dah of which our hosts are wait-
itg to welcome us.—-An Architect’s
Notes and Sketches.
SIIALLOWAESS SUCCESSFEE.
Sheridan, when urged to speak
on a certain occasion, replied;
\^ou know I am an ignoramus,
but I’ll do my best.” He once
studied arithmetic three weeks,
hoping to be appointed Chancel
lor of the Exchequer, confirming
the remark of Oxenstiern, “How
little knowledge is required to
govern the world.”
It is said that Sheridan kept in
a commonplace book repartees
and jests, to supply his lack of
solid information. An English
lord having closed an argument
with a Greek quotation, Sheridan
impudently followed with the
assertion that if Lord liclgrave
had given the whole passage, it
would have ajiplied the other
way. He then spouted out, with
great elocutionary display, a sen
tence that had the sound of Greek
in it, upon which the other, ad
mitted that he was wrong, and
complimented Sheridan on his
more accurate recollection. Fox,
also, who knew Greek, as he
thought, said at the close of the
session, “Sheridan, how came 3'ou
to be so read}^ ? It is as j’ou say,
though I was not aware of it be
fore you quoted it.”
On the other hand, Burke, with
all his massive learning, was such
a bore that he was nick-named
“dinner bell.” His frigid delive
ry and harsh voice scattered those
whom Sheridan drew. In Rich
ard II. the Dutchess of York up
braids the insincerity of her hus
band thus:
EDUCATION IN FUANCE
“Look upon his face ,
His eyes do drop no tears ; his prayers are
jest ;
His words come from his mouth, ours from
our breast,
Pie prays hut faintly and would be denied;
We pray heart and soul.”
So Betterton told the Bishop,
“You deliver truth as it were a
fiction: we deliver fiction like
truth.” Sheridan’s sham Greek
and Gen. Jackson’s “hog-latin,”
in one of his Western stump
speeches, won greater success
than all the dignified dulne
and critical coldness of the great
est scholar of the age.
Let eveiw speaker avoid mere
shallowness and pretence, but
also avoid, at the same time, the
extreme of learned length and
prompous pedantry. Beauty and
strength need not be dissevered,
and brilliancv need not be the
badge of shallowness alone.^—•
Frof. E. F. Timing.
A French correspondent
writes:—“Eveiw thinker in our
country is amazed at the prod
igious efforts made b}' the bishops
to train up a new generation in
the hatred of our modern society.
There are not fewer than 60,000
nuns busy in the training of
girls. The schools and colleges
of the Jdsuits are lull. Now that
they take hold of the whole
hierarclnq they oblige the moth
ers b}^ the confessional to send
their sons to their institutions.
The fathers who execrate their
own religion do it reluctantly,
but fashion exerts its mischieve-
ous power. No effort is here
upon spared to win the affection
of the children, who get eveiy
possible pleasure as soon as the
lessons are at an end. That
training associates in their mind
the majesty of the Church with
very pleasant remembrances. A
gentlemen trained at these schools
has his mind perverted. He
hates thought and investigation
he will not even listen to an
argument against his mother
Church. The Jesuits will never
let him alone when he has left
their college. They will give
him a wife selected from among
the devotees. They will secure
offices and promotion as the}’
have peopled our administration
with their kinsmen. Every one
who does not shut his eyes must
see that the danger from that
side is growing and fearful,
riierefore we cannot bless God
enough for the boon of having at
the head of public education a
man like M. Waddington. He
understands fully the solemn
trust laid upon him, and the
whole nation feels alike. He sees
that a general diffusion of light
is the only way to dispel and
to repel darkness. Only, his
scheme for the foundation of
schools in every hamlet of
France wants many years, and
the universal wish outside of
the clerical factions is that he
may remain in office until his
work is achieved. I think that
nothing is more hopeful for
France than this moral alliance
of our nation with a Christian-
minded Protestant.”
THE FHAIETY OF MAN.
What can be more frail and
perishable than man! If we sur
vey the history of mankind, its
generations have come and gone ;
its great empires have arisen,
and flourished, and decayed;
its strength has prevailed for a
season, and has been broken,
and its loveliness has charmed
the earth, and has then vanished
away. The stars that have over
hung the world from the begin
ingr have beheld a changeful and
companions have fallen at his
side: how may familiar faces have
been veiled from his eyes.
Every time that a wellkiiown
port was revisited, some change
i;i the relations of business, some
void in the circle of acquaintances
has reminded him of human mu
tability. He has passed along the
streets, marking the houses whose
erection he had witnessed, and
he lia.= sighed to think that the
builder has left his home and
will return to it no more forever.
He has deposited in the tomb
the body of a friend, and years
after, returning to the sad spot,
has beheld only diy bones and
dust remaining in the sepulchre.
He has parted in the port with
hardy seamen and gallant cap
tains, and has learned, too soon,
that then, all unconsciously, they
had parted forever. He has be
held the ocean engulph the wrecks
of human pride and hope and
affection. And could he address
us, such are the facts which he
would relate for our admonition.
—E. T. Winkler, 1). D.—S. C.
GKOWING OED.
It is the solemn thought con
nected with middle life that life’s
last business is begun in earnest;
and it is then, midway between the
cradle and the grave, that a man
begins to marvel that he let the
days of youth go by so half-en
joyed. It is the pensive autumn
feeling; it is the sensation of half
sadness that we experience when
the longest day of the year is
past, and every day that follows
is shorter, and the light fainter,
and the feebler shadows tell that
nature is hastening with gigantic
footsteps to her winter grave. So
does man look back upon his
youth. When the first gray hairs
become visible, when the unwel
come truth fastens itself noon the
mind that a man is no longer go
ing up hill, but down, and that
the sun is always westering, he
looks back on things behind.
When we were children, we
thought as children. But now
there lies before us manhood,
with its earnest work, and then
old age, and then the grave, and
then home. There is a second
youth for man, better and holier
than his first, if he will look on,
and not look back.—F. W Bob-
ertson.
and melancholy scene; and the
angels who have ministered to
human wants, have attended none
but dying and departed multitudes.
From their unchanged and ele
vated seats, the nations must
have seemed only like grass-plots,
nipped by frosty winters, renew
ing again and again the epheme
ral growth, and again and again
made desolate.
But the life of an aged man
has also been peculiarly full of
such experiences. How many
—There is a story told of two
Scotch lads who knew little of
gunnery and natural history, but
were familiar with King James’s
Bible and with the winged heads
that pass for cherubs in painting
and sculpture. Going out a-gun-
ning together, one of them shot
a bird and tlie other ran to secure
the trophy. Coming near where
it had fallen, he found a white
owl so sprawled in the grass as
to present to his view only a head
with staring eyes and a pair of
wings attached. Instantly he
shouted ill dismay, “ We’re in.
for it, Jock; we’ve shot a cheru
bim !”
The every-day cares and duties
which men call drudgery, are the
weiglits and counterpoises of the clock
of time, giving its pendulum a true vi
bration, and its liands a regular motion,
and wlien they cease to liang iqion the
wheels, the iiendiilum no longer swings,
the liands no longer move, the clock
stands still.