Price, $1 a year.)
OXFORD, N. C., SEPTEMBER 7,1883.
(VOL. IX, NO
NO TIME EOE HATINO.
BY. A. J. DUGANNE.
Begone with feud ! away with strif !
Our huniaa hearts unmating;
Let us be friends againl This life
Is all too short for hating !
So dull the day, so dim tl'.e way,
So rough the road we’re faring—
Far better weal with fai'hful fdend.
Than stalk alone uncaring !
The barren fig. the withered vine.
Are types of selfish liviiig:
But souls that give, like thine and
mine,
Renew their lie by giving.
While cypress waves' o’er early
graves.
On all the way we’re going.
Far better plant where seed is scant,
Than tread on fruit that’s growingl
Away with scorn! Since die we must.
A.nd rest on one low pillow;
There are no rivals in the dust—
No foes beneath the willow,
So dry the bowers, so few the flow-
Our earthly way discloses,
Far betl er stoop,w here daises droop,
Than tramp o’er'broken roses 1
Oh what are all the joys we hold,
Coifipared to joys above us !
And what are rank, and power, and
gold,
Compared to 1 eaits that love us?
So fleet our years, so full of tears.
So closely dcatii is waiting—
God gives us space for Lwing grace
• But leaves no time for hating.
THE YELLOWSTONE PARE-
Tiie visit of the Presidential
party to the Yellowstone Park
having called special atten
tion to it just at this time, the
following account of some of
its marvels, taken from the
London Times^ will be read
with special interest:
In attempting to describe
the extraordinary wonders ot
the Yellowstone district it is
almost as difficult to know
where to begin as
where to leave off. It is an
immense upland district, no
portion of which lies less
than 6,000 feet above the sea.
It contains snowy peaks, in-
numerable rivers, streams and
cascades, va t water^ialls,
countless lakes and mountain
tarn, with volcanic phenomena
of incredible variety, and
strangeness. Its natural
forms surpass the wildest ef
forts of the imagination in
their grotesqueness, and the
coloring of its rocks and cliffs,
of its waters, streams, and
pools, is represented by ob
servers as baffling all descrip
tion and almost defying cred
ibility. The centre of the
park is occupied by the Yel
lowstone Lake, about thirty
miles long by twenty wide,
broken into deep bays like
the thumb and fingers of an
outstretched hand,of unknown
depth in many parts, butshab
lowing towards its shores,
which are dotted here and
there with the cones of hot
springs filled with boiling wa^
ter. The lake abounds with
trout from one to two feet in
cal worms with which most of
them are found to be infested.
The lake stands at an eleva
tion of over 7,700 feet above
the sea, and is therefore, with
one or two possible excep
tions, the highest considerable
sheet of water to be found in
the world. It is drained by
the Yellowstone River, which
passes through several gigan
tic “canons,*’ as they are call
ed, and makes several tremen
dous leaps—one over 250
feet—before it quits the re
gion of the park.
The word “canon’’ is appa
rently somewhat vaguely used
to signify either a narrow
gorge excavated by the action
of extinct glaciers or a mere
rift between almost perpen
dicular walls wrought by the
erosive action of the river it
self. Both species are to be
found on the Yellowstone,but
there seems no doubt that
what is known as the Grand
Canon is a true canon of the
latter kind. It is over twenty
miles long, and in some places
1,300 feet deep, its sides be
ing almost perpendicular. In
many cases these sides are
occupied with still active gey
sers, the mineral deposits from
which emblazon the rocks
with the most vivid and varied
coloring. In other parts of
the canon the rocks are splin
tered and riven into fantastic
towers and pillars, while the
tributary streams form innu“
merable cascades of infinite
variety and beauty.
So far it may be said we
have ascribed to the Yellow-
stone Park nothing more than
the ordinary features of
mountain scenery, construc
ted on a scale proportionate
to the vast extent of the Amer
ican Continent and the titanic
architecture of the Rocky
Mountains. Crag, rock, and
cliff; lake, river, stream, and
cascade, are things insepara
ble from the structure of
mountain district, and their
vaster proportioas do not nec
essarily render them more
beautiful than similar phe
nomena on a smaller scale.
We have, however, by no
means exhausted the wonders
of the National Park. No brief
description could even
pretend to do so. We can on^
ly select one or two of the
most remarkable points of in
terest, and among them we
will mention the so-called
“Gol lin Labyrinth’^ in the
Hindoo district lying east of
the park, first explored by
Mr. Norris, and described by
him in his report for 1880
Travellers in the Alps will
recollect the singular pillars
of indurated mud, each cap
ped by a huge atone, to be
seen near the village of
Useigne, in the Wald' Anni-
viers, near Sion. A still more
remarkable collection of simi
lar pillars is to be found in
length, and many visitors i
said to have succeeded
catching a fish in the lake and
cooking it in one of the hot
springs without detaching it
from the hook—a feat which
presupposes a stoutness ^ of
tackle unknown to English
auglers, unless the
tion- be sought in the weakens
in the ravine of the Finster-
bach near Botzon, and is de
scribed by Sir Charles Lyell
his ‘Principles of Geology.’
Such pillars are formed by
the action of rain water eats
ing away the easily soluble
soil, while the boulder on the
top serves as a protection to
the pillar which supports it.
The “Goblin Labyrinth’’ is a
similar but still more remark
able collection of long, slen-
and spires, from fifty to two
or three hundred feet in
height. The sharp-cornered
fragments ot rocks of nearly
every size, form, formation,
and shade of coloriugjare at
tached by a peculiar volcanic
cement, sidewise and endwise
upon the tops and sides of the
pillars, and apparently un
supported, upon each other,
so that they represent every
form, garb, and posture of gi
gantic human beings, as well
as of birds, beasts, and rep
tiles “In fact,” says Mr.
Norris, “nearly every form,
animate or inanimate, real or
chimerical, ever actually seen
or conjured by the imagina
tion, may here be observed;”
and the figures given by him
fully justify his description.
But the unique and unris
valled feature of the Yellow
stone Park still remains to be
described. The whole dis
trict is a very Tophet of
strange volcanic agencies. It
is without exception the most
remarkable region of geysers
and hot springs in the world,
its only possible rival being
that of Waikato, in New
Zealand. Besides the cold,
pure Wi ter springs which are
abundant throughout the dis
trict, Mr. Norris enumerates
the following distinct varie
ties; cold medicinal springs;
warm mineral, often poison
ous, springs; warm medicinal
springs; foaming or laundry
springs; terrace building
springs; and pulsating or
spouting geysers. The latter
are literally innumerable, and
found in every variety and
in every stage of develop
ment and decay, incipient and
distinctive, active and quies
cent, mud'geysersand “paint-
pots,” where the mineral de
posits dye the contents ot
their natural receptacle with
every conceivable variety of
color, and geysers of the ordi
nary intermittent type, which
constantly send forth a col
umn of water and steam to
the height of 250 and some
times 300 feet. Even these
are not so remarkable, per«
haps, as the terrace-building
streams, which are formed by
the issue of wpter heated by
volcanic action through tor
tuous passages in cretaceous
limestone. The water bes
comes charged with dissolv
ing portions of the rook, and
on reaching the surface it is
discharged in pulsating throbs,
each of which deposits a thin,
corrugated lamina of the cal
careous substance held in so
lution. This>Iow but cease
less process has resulted in
building up beautiful scallop-
boarded bathing pools along
many thousands of feet of
terraced slopes which occupy
the mouutain^side. Traces of
iron held in solution tint
these formations with their
own peculiar coloring in ver
tical banding, and the whole
effect is described as beyond
conception beautiful. The
Mammoth Hot Springs, on
the banks of the Gardiner
River, are the most remarka
ble active springs of this kind
to be found in the Yellow ^
stone Park,but there are many
others on a smaller scale, and
even the Mammoth Springs
themselves are insignificant
compared with those now eX’
tant. time have covered the
Terrace Mountain and enor
mous ranges of cliff along the
Yellowstone with the crum
bling remains of similar pools
on the most gigantic scale.
BISHOP WILSON’S VIEW OP THE
VALUE OP THE SABBATH.
tioa be sought m the weakens . • -n tinct which in some far dis-ri main difference
ingbf thettoutbytheparasiUi der, tottering pillars, shafts, tmot, wnion
How is a wandering, fallen
and depraved world ta be re
called to God, without-that
day which celebrates the
wotks, and word, and grace
of God—that day which re
cognizes his authority over
mau- -that day which pro
claims man’s intellectual and
accountable nature, his future,
his eternal hopes'? The Sab
bath interposes a space be
tween total irreligion and the
conscience of man; it puts in
the claims of God upon the
human heart. Nor is the
temporal welfare of mankind
less concerned than their spir
itual, in the observation of
the Lord’s day. Man was
created for six days’ work, not
for seven: his faculties cannot
bear an unremitted strain.
Children, and servants, and
the laboring classes of man
kind (by far,.the more numer
ous, and the most liable to be
oppressed), require—what
this institution gives--a day
of repose, ot refreshment, of
religious recollection and
peace. The whole world
rests and is still, that God
may speak—that conscience
may resume her sway—that
the exhausted body and mind
may recruit their powers, and
be fitted for a more vigorous
effort. The utmost produc
tive labor of man is in the
proportion of rest and exer
tion ordained by his merciful
Creator. The best prevention
of diseases, the prolongation
ot human life itself, depends
on the like Hlternation of toil
and repose. The springs of
pleasure are thus augmented
and purified. The satiety,
the sameness, the weariness,
the uniformity of human life
is broken; and a blessed, hal
lowed period for religion is
interposed. The interval be
tween these seasons is neither
so distant as to be ineffectual
to its end. nor 'so near as to
injure the real interests of
our worldly callings; but, like
everything, else in God’s rev
elation, unites the prosperity
of the body and concerns of
man. How great, then, is the
importance of every one’s
falling in with the designs of
this institution! Can any one
estimate adequately the soul,
eternity, heaven and hell,
God, Christ, salvation, pardon
hop*=*, hapi iness, the whole
intellectual, moral, and reliif-
ious welfare of mau as he w'as
formed after his Creators im
age, has fallen from it by sin
and is called to the renova
tion of it by the blessings and
duties of the Christian Sab
bath!
Look at the evils of the
contrary abuse. See man
sunk fr>m his real honors in
to the rank of the brute—see
him lost in appetite, vice,
lust, pride, carelessness, with
nothing to redeem, nothing
to call him back, nothing to
rsstore—the Spirit of God de
parted from him—a repro
bate sense possessing and
j'weighing down his soul. The
heathen and Christian nations
is the recurrence and due
observation of a Sab
bath. The violation of this
day in Christian countries is a'
brand upon the forehead of
nominal religion. See the.
Sabbath-breaker opening his
shop, writing Lis letters, pre
paring his accounts—see him
entering his office—see him
imposing upon his servants,
his clerks, his dependents, the
yoke of unpermitted and un
holy labor. Observe him in
languid carelessness, idling
away the morning hours, and
disgracing, by excess and
worldly company, the even
ing Notice the effect upon
his own mind and habits. He
boasts of his liberty, his free
dom from superstitious fears,
his superiority to ordinary
prejudices. But he is the
slave of covetousness,of pride,
of appetite. The violation of
the Sabbath draws with it the
neglect of all other religious
duties—prayer, family reli
gion, reading of the Scrip
tures. Misery follow* intho
train. In vain he blusters
and protests, and affects inde
pendence: the moral judg
ment of the Almighty overtake
him; the selfish, earthly crea
ture, vegetating rather thun
living, is lost in shifting spec
ulations; diffuses mischief all
around; neglects and corrupts
his children and servants; has
no corrective to his jealous
and irritated temper, no cor
dial to his drooping spirits, no
prospects to enliven the fu
ture, no friend, no Saviour to
relieve him as to the past.
The Sunday journal, the Sun
day festival, the Sunday
amusemeuts, fail to please.
He sinks into lifeless despon
dency, or frets with infuria
ted malice--all hjs noble ce-
pacities perverted, because
his God has been contemned,
and the day of religion abus
ed.
pie will eat twice as much
without satisfying their hun
ger, as those of better phys
ical balance, yet they will
not do more work.
Some wives will save the
price of a ton of coal by re
newing for one of the chil
dren an old dress or suit of
clothes; some others, seeming
to be destitute either of tact,
skill or inclination, must buy
everything new or go without.
Economy is a science wiilch
quite a unmber of men a id
women have mast'^red by
close observation and diligent
practice; others do not seem
to know of its existence. A
few dayj ago a couple of la
dies who had been refitting
their parlors compared
notes. One had spent just
$150 and the other nearly $1,
500, and the cheaper parlor
was the prettier. It takes
longer to learn economy riian
to learn a trade, but when
learned it is the most consol
ing science in existence, no
matter how much or how lit
tle money its devotee may
have.
IS
riGHING A GOOD FIGHT, j
FAUILY EXPENSES.
After religion and politics
there is nothing about which
intelligent people differ so
radically as what they call the
cost of living. A skilled man
in some departments ot bus^
iness will earn several thou
sand a year, spend nothing
on wine, women or horsos,
yet always be in debt. Some
acquaintance of his, with
similar salary and a large
family lives comfortabl}',
sends his boys to college,
drives a good horse and has a
snug little bank account.
There are mechanics earning
two dollars a day who com
fortably feed and clothe a
family of half a dozen people,
while some of their fellow
workmen, married, but with
out children, live meanly,
wear shabby clothes on Sun»
day and are occasionally[ejec
ted from their homes for non
payment of rent. The prin
cipal cause of the difference
may almost always be found
in the family larder, and the
family wardrobe. Somefam
ilies must breakfast either on
beefsteak or _mutton chops;
others will serve just as much
meat au I make it just as pal
atable, at a quarter of the ex
pense of ciioice cuts; be
cause well cooked. Tempe
rament has much influence
between 1 on the larder. Excitable peo-
* A stiiigy Christian was lis
tening to a charity sermon.
He was nearly deaf, and was.
accustomed to sit facing the
congregation, right under the
pulpit, with his ear-trumpet
directed upward towards the
preacher. The sermon mov
ed him considerably. At one
time he said to lums “I’ll
giv ten dollars;” again he
said, “I’ll give fifteen dollars.’*
At the close of the appeal he
was very much moved, and
he thought he would give
fifty dollars. Now the boxes
were passed. As they moved
along his charity began to
ooze out. He eame down
from fifty to twenty, to ten, to
zero. He concluded that he
would not give any. “Yet,”
said he, “this won’t do—T ana
in a bad fix. This covetous
ness will be my ruin.”
The boxes were getting
nearer and nearer. The cri
sis was upon him. What
should he do? The box was
now under his chin-'-all the
congregation were looking.
He had been holding his pock
et-book in his hand during
the above soliloquy, which
was half audible, though iu
his deafness he did not know
that he was heard. In the
agony of the final moment he
took bis pocket-book and laid
it in the box, saying to him
self as he did it, “Now squirm
old natur’!”
Here is trie key to the prob
lem of covetousness. Old na-
tur” must be going under. It
will take great giving to put
stinginess down. A tew ex
periments of putting in the
whole pocket-book may, by
and by, get the heart into the
charity box, and then the ciire
is reached. All honor to the
deaf old gentleman. He did
a magnificent thing for him
self, and gaVe an example
worth imitating,besides point
ing a paragraph for ttio stu
dents of humau nature—Ex.
A Brahmin wrote to a mis
sionary: “We are finning you
out. You are not as good as
your Book. If youT ^ople
■v^ere only as good as your Book,
you would conquer India for
Christ in five years.'’