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VOLUME XI. LENOIR, N. C, WEDNESDAY, JUNE 16. 1886, NUMBER 38. STATESVILLE. NEW YORK. WALLACE BROS, Geneial Merchandise -AND PRODUCE DEALERS, 'AND- - Headquarters for Med icinal Crude, Roots, Herbs, Berries, Barks, Seeds, Flowers, Gums & Mosses, STATES VILLE, N. C. -lot- WALLACE BROS., General Produce Dealers -AND- Commission Merchants, 304 Greenwich St.," RRDViirs, IffPil lUl THE DEST TOIIIC ar w uiwmf a an uniaiunK reuwsu jTnte wtps:te Women, and all who lead edentary UTe. It doei inot injure the teeth, cause bedcber produce constipation cArr 4 It enrich e npurifle the bl rtimtOate the appetite, aid the aasimiUtion of food ,n lievei HWburo nd Belchiu. and strength eng the muscles and nerre. , k f For Intermittent Feyers. Uuwdtude, LacX r Energy, &c it baa no equal. - . ' . The genuine baa abore trad e mark nd crowed reclines on wrapper. Take no other. afeMirbr aaowi cmmicai. ro, buitiwW . CLINTON A. CILIiEY, Attomov-At-Ia7, ma K i i imi m m m &i ;cKeiDie ionics, quicajj . i t'nrea DrwpaJau Idletl. Weakii iaiiMfiiZj ii7-i-4a.fktlliu4 Fever, THE FARMER'S LIFE. BY CAPT. J. W. T. The farmer leads no E Z life, The C D sows will rot, And when a' E V rests from strife, His bones all A K lot. InP J has to struggle hard lo E K living out, If I 0 frosts do not retard His crops, there'll B A drought. The hired L P has to pay Are awful A Z too: " They C K rest when he's away, Nor any work will do. Both N. Z cannot make to meet, And then for A D takes Some boarders, who so R T eat And E no money makes. Of little U C finds this life, Sick in old A G lies, The debts he 0 Z leaves to his wife, And then in P C dies. ," k LITERARY ADDRESS. By Judge C. LCilley, of Lenoir, before the Literary Society of Catawba Col lege, Newton, May 20 1886. After receiving and answering your very kind invitation to appear before you to day, and as I began to think upon what subject to speak to you, ami in what way to treat it, eo that what should be said might be both useful to you, and possible for me to utter, it became, and was very plain to me that I had assumed, a task for which I was peculiarly un fitted. The habits of a lifetime were against me. A lawyers twenty years training in talking to juries, careless of the effect of his argument upon the bystanders, and indeed, often knowing that his words fall upon the ears of a crowded audience hos tile to his cause, has the same effect on him that the cutting of a single facet upon a diamond would have upon the gem. The solitary spot would sparkle, no doubt, but the rough unpolished surface of the rest of the jewel would leave it a very different thing from the full orbed brilliant it ought to be, to blaze be fore an assembly like this. 1 remembered it had never fallen t my lot to prepare or deliver what is commonly known as a literary ad dress, and reflected how absurd it would be ferj me, used only to one manner of public speaking, to try to arm and deck myself with the splen did panoply of an orator. I should rather, it seemed, do as David did, put away Saul's armor, because he had not proved it, and trust only to the weapons 6f my calling. And so, casting about how I might treat you as a jury, and be somewhat at ease in your presence, that marvelous trick of the mind, "association of ideas" they call it, brought to me Longfellow's famous poem, "A Psalm of Life, or hat the heart of the Young man said to the Psalmist." And, lo I there be fore me was the material for a trial. The parties, plaintiff and defendant, the one assorting the other deny ingthe tf-ath of a certain issue, are known iand read of all men. The Royal Poett of Israel, who, in his thirty ninth Psalm, as he was mus i g, and the fire burned, spake with his tongue and sang of a man at his best estate,' 4s altogether vanity, as walking in a? vain show, and disqui eting himself in vain ; and the gen tle poet of America, dear to onr households and hearths, who denies what David said and answers . 'Tell me not in mournful numbers, - Life is but an empty dream. For the goal is dead that slum ben. And things are not what they seem. - Life is real: -Life ia earnest; And the grave is not its goal; 'Dart thoa art, to dust returnest. Wan not spoken of the son!." There was the issue. Do we tread this ball bloodless, hopeless ghosts life a dream, a vain show and after !t silence ? Or is life real, earnest, worth the living, and do we walk up right as men, a heart within, and God overhead ? , , And where could a jury be found, better selected, better fitted to try the issue than the members of your society ? Lovers of learning m right of your name and your train ing, and in the first flush and bloom of youth, the sanction of what oath, however awful, can more strictly bind you to render a verdict or true word, in this dispute, than do your faith and your hopes, your manhood and your education ? Be 'our future what it may I shall never argue, you will never confront a more tremendous issue. Upon its decision, upon the next words that may fall from your lips, and the next deliberate action you may do, de ' pends something more solemn ana weighty than the juries of our courts of justice have ever had given them in charge. They decide .questions about money, character, life even. But on the verdict that you - may register hangs what is rarer and more exquisite than gold, dearer San honor-better and more endu ring than poor human Hie. You have entrusted to you an im mortal part, call it what .you will, whose future is to be settled, not by anv judgment or will other than U St3a to 4encient or the mod ern song. ' Remember then gentlemen, your free lineage, and of what blood "you come, think of those whose love and care have placed you here, and the duty you owe to them, the dear ones at home, who, so long as they shall live, will watch your course with a devotion as pure, and a hope as nn .wavering as that of the star gazers of old, who night after night from their towers by the rivers of Babylon followed the path of the Pleiades and the: stately march of Orion through the skies until the splendor of the constellations faded in the glory of dawn. And eo, keeping these things well in mind, give yourselves heart and soul to the derision of fhe question. And first what can be urged in behalf of the Psalmist ? In a word, this: That if we may judge of the beliefs of the nations of the elder world by their literature, there was. until near the beginning of the Christian Era, no people among whom the doctrine that David taught ,was not almost universally accept ed. It was not a part of their cre.d for they had no creed, it was not discussed, for it had no opposer. It lay at the bottom of each man's heartjiindisturbed, unexamined, im parting its sombrtrtinge to his whole being, the bans of his philosophy, a bar to his speculation. Most men of that time never thought of such things at all; to those who did think life began and ended in sleep; and, while it lasted, was a dream. Among the Jews, even, the only race having communion with, and a knowle'dge of the, true God, the thc rory was accepted, and it was endor sed by almost every writer in their sacred canon. Poet and historian, prophet priest and king, all lent their voices to swell the chorus of David's psalm, and taking his words as a refrain, they sang them to the mournful mu sic of his despairing harp for near a thousand years. Beginning with the wise women of Tekoah, whose utterance in behalf of Absalom was accented by his royal father, we find it rehearsed as a part of the wisdom of the Jews, that ''We are as water spilt on the ground, that cannot be gathered up again." The author of the drama of Job, as to whose iden tity and date the best authorities are at variance, harps often on this theme. It is almost the burden of his poem, "As the cloud is consum ed, and vanisheth away, so he that goeth down to the grave shall come up no more. 'Man dieth, and wasteth away, yea, man givetlf up the ghost, and where is he i Man lieth down and riseth not; till the Heaven be no more, they shall not awake, nor be raised out of their sleep." "My life is a wind." "Our days upon earth are a shadow' go whence I shall not return, even to the land of darkness and to the shadow of death." "My days are vanity." "If a man die, shall he live again ?" As might be expected, such say ings are plentiful in the Psalms. Life is there spoken of as "A wind, that passeth away, and c-Ometh not again." . "The children of men are as a sleep." "Man is like to van ity, altogether lighter than vanity." "Wherefore hast thou made all men in vain ?" asks he. In death there is no remembrance of thee. Shall the dust praise thee ? Shall the dead arise and praise thee ?" And, most noticeable of all. "Free among the dead' Were these words a prophecy, or a prayer ? In all . his life David had never been free. In vouth, subject first to his father and his haughty brethren, then to the stern prophet who annointed him, and to the fierce king whose loye was as cruel as his jealousy, later, and when acknowledged monarch, under the influence of counselors, priests, prophets, and the terrible sons of Zerniah, breaking out at times, and having his royal will, but as often repentant or humbled, by the rebuke of someone of his guides or advisers, it seemed to him as if he should never enjoy that perfect liberty he had dreamed of when a shepherd lad, and fancied he had attained to vhen crowned and robed as king. And so, stung by disap pointment, and impatient of res traint, he seizes his harp, his only , confidant and consoler, and to the triumphant swelling of its bolder notes, or the passionate wailing of its minor chords, utters, it may be a hope, it may be a prediction,, that, bye, and bye when the wicked cease from troubling, the weary are at rest and he at last, be "Free among the dead." Following the maximsof his father, the wisest of men and the greatest of kings wrote, as we all know, "Vanity of vanities, all is van ity," and adds, "The living know that they shall die, tho dead know not anything." Another monarch, in his hymn of thanksgiving for his miraculous de livery from death, as given by Isai ah, says "The grave cannot praise thee, deaths cannot celebrate thee, they that go down into the pit can not hope for thy truth' '.'All flesh is grass' also asserts the same proph et, while Jeremiah laments that 'uat fathers have sinned; and - are not, and we have borne their iniquities arguing that as the parents are free among the dead, they can no longer be punished for sin.' ; - So marked, indeed, is the absence of mention of a f uture state in the Old Testament, especially in its earlier books, that William Warbur ton, bishop of Gloucester, England, one hundred and fifty jears ago pub lished a book, then hailed and since regarded as a prodigy of learning, entitled, "The Divine Legation of Moses," in which he lays down these propositions : i 1st, That to inculcate the doc trine of a f uture state of rewards and punishments is necesasry to the well being of civil society. , 2nd, That all mankind have con curred in believing and in teaching this doctrine was of such use. 3rd, That the doct.ine of a future state of rewards and punishments is not to be found in, nor did make part of, the Mosaic Dispensation. From these clear and simple pro positions he goes on to his " conclu sions : "That, therefore the law of Moses is of divine original, and pro ceeds to prove it by the following syllogism : I 1. Whatsoever religion and society have no future state for their sup port, must be supported by an ex traordinary providence. I 2. The Jewish religion and society had no future state for their sup port. T 3. Therefore they were supported by an extraordinary providence. I No one has confuted, and it may be said, with deference to better di alecticians than myself, no one is likely to confute tne great Bishop's 3rd proposition. His whole argument then, thatthe Mosaic dispensation and laws were of divine origin is based upon an impregnable fact that in the Jewish scripture was to be found no trace of the doctrine of future rewards and pHnishrncntsnd that, so far as we are concerned in this disenssjon,' David was warranted by every au thority in teaching that life is but an empty dream." . I Hut says some earnest believer, what will you and your Bishop do with ihau famous words iu Job, "I know that my Redeemer liveth, &c" Warburton devotes a chapter tothem. He ascribes the authorship of the book to ;Ezra the scribe, and applies the quotation to the expected deliv ery from captivity. Others, notably a learned divine of our own day, in terpret these words as the strongcry of a deep yearning hope not the ex pression of a belief, and certainly to give them any more pointed meaning would be to put them apart from, if not in opposition to the whole tenor of contemporaneous utterances. And now if 3tou are not weary of the Bible, let us consider the con duct of another jury, convened and met to discuss this same question, near two thousand :years ago. Such a tribunal shall never again but once .be seen in tire. -history of earth or heaven. There were Philip and Bartholo. mew, the sons of Zebedee. Peter, Iscariot and the rest, uinl there, d re siding overinforming, instructing them, was the ! Master of life nd law. They had heard, and were fa miliar with, the proposition He laid down. In answer to Job's despair-' ing question, "If a man die shall he live again ?" in rebuke of his great ancestor's querulous complaint that life was but a dream, He who led them had promised that after His death He would lise and live again, and had assured them that He was the life. To prove this promise and assurance to be true they depended on no testimony of frail human wit nesses, they had heard no tale of facts at second hand. They were themselves chosen to be both wit nesses and triers of the cause, as our ancient juries were in the days of Alfred the truth-teller. They had co judge from what they had seen with their eyes J and handled with their fingers. They had seen what power he showed of being able to fulfil his word ; they had known the whole course and order of great na ture, stop, move backward, and be gin again at his command. The sap in the veins of the ungrateful fig tree had been sent back to the secret cells of the dust, so that it was with ered to the roots, an exercise of such, awful power over the imperial Haws;; of gravitation and attraction that, extended a hair breadth further, it might have reduced the forests of the world to blasted trunks, or un-: tied, the chain which binds us to the sun. The incurable poison of leprosy j had been turned into a vehicle of gracious health and cleansing ; the j scanty meal of their little group had ; grown in His wonder-working hands; into meat for the thousands ; the shifting watew of Galilee became : under pis feet as firm as the marble : courts of the temple ; the orphan of j Nain had been restored to the wid- j owed and childless mother; the daughter of Jairus had left her death bed for other refreshment than the tomb, and the sheeted fig ure of Lazarus had stalked forth from his sepulchre, dumbly beseech ing to.be loosed. V In the teeth of all this, , and of more, how did this jury find ? So imbued were they with the prevalent belief of their I race, so tinctnred with saducecism, that after the bu rial of our Lord they lost both faith and hope, betook themselves to their , several callings; abandoned their mission and could not even see their risen Master, until He, by a miracle almost as great as his own resurrec tion, burst the bonds by which they and their nation were fettered, and let their first free' glance acknowl edge the advent of a new and love lier creed. . . j Leaving sacred literature, we may search the libraries of the past in vain for any conviction that, life was anything but a breath, a spiritus, and then never the breath of a liv ing God. Not to multiply instances, the thought of the elder world has been -regarded as 'fitly summed up by the great Poet of all . time, but wha nowhere sings of life beyond the earth, he who, like those Gods of the Greek mythology, sat on his heights, pensive and alone, and watched far h-rneath him the hundred-hand play of bis genius. -In the Tempest Shakespeare says: 'Onr revels now are ended. These our act oto, As I foretold j ou weieall spirits and And are melted into vr. Into thin air, . And like the baseless; fabric of this vlnioii, Te cloud capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temple, the great vlobe itself. Yea, all which it inherit shall dissolve. And like this insubstantial pageant faded. Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on. and oar little life. Is rounded with a sleep " But throwing aside whst men have said, let us see what they have done to show ; their belief- in the Dream Theory. Follow the life of any average man, of any average nation, for they are curiously iden tical, as reported in ancient history and see if you cannot find, nay- re mark if you are not forced to notice evidence of the abounding fruits of this belief. We are at once struck with tho fact not to be searched out but obtruded npolj us, that fierce adventure, strife, desperate battle, was almost the only business of men and races. History is a mere regis ter of crime and war. Close on cre ation followed the murder by the altar. Between Jew and Canaanite was perpetual feud. In every fenced city of Syria's! plain, and on every crest of her embattled. hills the ex iled descendants of Abraham kept alive the memory of the wrongs done their fathers. Wherever the banner of the Tribes advanced towards the promised land the were met with the armed hatred of their kinsmen Ishmael still flew at the throat of Isaac and Red Esau still rained ar rows upon the- buckler of Jacob the Supplanter The wars of Greece with Asia, from Troy to Arbela, the war waged by Rome with the world until its subjugation, these makeup the annals of the past. And the same conditions existed in private as in public. No man valued life but as a means of enjoyment. At the first breath of disaster, the first touch of pain, he fled away from'J life to escape its ills, and iu the forefront of battle - he gave, or in seclusion he took, what had been to him a burden, . that he might lie down and be at rest, free among the Dead. Can there be but one cause to which to attribute this? Had men believed! our life not to "be rounded with a sleep they would not have left for our condemnation such ghastly memorials of cowardice under the masquerade of courage. Assuming then, that it is true, that up to the reign of Tiberius Caesar, David's position was admitted to be correct, let us see what has happen ed since to justjfy the Modern Sin ger in his bold challenge and denial of the Psalmist. You will anticipate me, and point at once to the story of the New Tes tament, to the history of Christen dom, to the faith alike of Catholic, Protestant and Mohammedan, as evidence full and satisfactory of the truth of his words. There can be no doubt that the belief he voices so beautifully has! long been . accepted by the majority of the men of mod ern times. So far as mere formal belief goes, no argument is needed to induce you to agree with him, and if that were all that I aim at, I ought never to have begun this dis cussion, or having begun, should lamely stop here. It is admitted, every thinking man says, that Life is real, that a future follows, await ing -us.' Why tease us then with evidence when we are ready to give up the point ? But do we give it up ? Do we ! fully believe as we ought to do, with even a moderate measure of that faith, which were it absolute, could work,aye, has work ed many a miracle. Believing our. existence to be what it is, God-given, eternal, its present and future, both true and real, not dreams, do twe obey the! Jaws f our being ? If not then is our faith vain, and our life vain, a dream within! a ' dream, whereof jthe waking will ibe doubly bitter. " f, J . .. . What is the law of our! being"? To illustrate, a few months! ago Em peror William of Germany, with Prince Bismark and Count Von Moltke, visited Krupps iron works at Essen, in Prussia. Presently they came to where the steam hammer called Max was at work, dealing quick fifty-ton blows on a huge steel ingot, blazing from the furnace, and rudely beating it into the fashion of a. shaf t . for an ocean steamer, the heaviest forging ever attempted. The shaf t withdrawn, the party drew near and questioned the hammerman as to the capacity of his portentous engine. Respectfully asking the Emperor for his watch, he placed the costly jewelled affair on the an vil and touched a lever. - Down came the vast mass,; with resistless rush another, touch, and; the skillful craftsman, with difficulty slipping a thin card between the arrested ham mer and the, toy, restored it; unbro ken to its owner. . Reading this not long ago,, I mused over the striking instances there collected of obedi ence to law. The dainty watch, with its. tiny wheels and microscopic fittings, kept accurate note of time for its master, because the -will , of its maker, that it should keep the hours, had been impressed: upon ev ery rack and pinion, every cog and spring of its substance, and the. al most sentient metal worked ever his will. The monstrous hammer smote with the force of an avalanche, or touched with the lingering lightness of a kiss, because the builder had willed antj made it o to do, and the blind dumb Titan ever worked his majestic will. Bismark, the man of iron, Von Molke, the man of blood, relentless to build 6r destroy, made empires or pulled them down, -because their master, he who had cho sen and placed them where they stood, had made them so to do, and these men, forces more silent and exact than the time-piece, more dreadful than the hammer, worked ever their imperial master's will. And he, the Kaiser, mightiest of all, son of that father whose king dom had been divided, of that mo ther whose heart had been broken by the first Napoleon, who had late ly shattered the sceptre and laid under tribute the I treasury of his hereditary foe, what was he other than the rest, the doer of his Mak er's will ? j The law of our being then is to do our Maker's willj Made in his image, our duty is to be like him, in such of his qualities as we may reverently copy. Do you remember the famous an agram on Christ's interview with Pilate ? In the vnlgate, or Latin version, Pilate's question is "Quid est Veritas."' The ingenious monk rearranged the letters and gave the marvelously appropriate answer, "Est vir qui adest'i What is truth? said the Roman. The man who is before you, said the anagram. The Governor turned and did not wait for an answer, but it is written, for all the world, and for us as part thereof, to read and ponder. Made in thcimagej of Truth, then, let us be truthful, to the core, and our lives shall be real and earnest, and the poem shall be our history. These things, reality, zeal, earnest ness, follow truth, come forth from truth, are by her, and of her, but she is the Mistress still. But you will say, t have no doubt you thought it half j an hour ago, you are not giving us a literary ad dress, you are preaching us a ser mon, e had one sermon day , be fore yesterday. 1 confess it makes me feel as if I were obtaining goods under false pretense to have you listen tome at all, but I cannot help it. I never could make up an ad dress, or an argument. The speech must make itself and will, -if I have anything to say. - This has grown bit by bit as I thought it out, to what it is ; my heart is full of it, and out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh. You may think there is no need of this warning to be true to the end of yfcur creation. Look about you in every European country, and in our chief cities of America. There you will find, thinly veiled under Greek and Latin names, garments they did not wear two thousand years ago, when their nakedness did not make them ashamed, two kindred errors, (beliefs I cannot call those which be liefs are none) thatj steadily grow in strength aud prominence, that aim, and indeed threaten to take the same control of the mind and the property of mankind that they did in ages now happily (past. In the Nihilists, who believe nothing, who deny everything, who demand of every ruler that he shalfbdicate, of every property holder that he shah give all away, and who propose no thing in exchange for our govern ment or our property1, we have the same fierce and blinded class that formed the mobs of Athens, Rome and Jerusalem, whose, excess and ignorance finally hastened the ruin of those States. j The Agnostics are gentry who deny nothing, but simply say we do not know, who aver that the exist ence and person of a God as well as a future state, are subjects uporr which wo are ignorant, and must be content to remain so. Their most distinguished leader Mr. Herbert Spencer, thus sums lip their tenets. 1. The proper object of religion is a something which can never be "known, orconceived, or understood, to which we cannot apply the terms emotion, will, intelligence, of which we cannot affirm or deny ' that it is either a person, a being, a mind, or indeed anything else " . 2. All we can say of it is that it is an inscrutable existence, or an unknowable cause ; we can neither, know nor conceive what -it is, nor how it came about, nor how it oper ates, it is, notwithstanding the ulti mate cause, the all being, the crea tive power. '-" 3. The' essential business of re ligion, so understood, is to keep alive the consciousness of a mystery that cannot be fathomed. 4. We are not concerned with the question what effect this religion will have as a moral -agent, or whe ther it will make good men and wo men. : Religion has to do with mys tery, not morals. . . . -. - ; . ' What is all this summary but the same dreary answer that some effem inate young noble of Rome; ignorant of Jehovah, incredulous of Jove or. Pluto, would have given had he tru- ly replied to some question as to his faith ? One of those patricians, who with the rest of his class, sat idly in their palaces, while the mob sold the Empire to one purchaser after an other, until the rumor of the vices of . the seven hilled capital reached the border of the frozen sea, and the slumbering sword of the Northmen awoke, and executed the vengeance of God upon city and nation. So between agnostic and nihilistic fell the great powers of the i past. "Let us, the' heirs of all the I ages, wisely profit by the warning of their ruin.-'' :; "' - V What sharp remedy is needed for the howling nihilist who insults our laws, denies our right to rule our sf Ives, and threatens to burn, steal andslay, and for the luckadaisacal agrrostic who dallies and protests he does not know, and cares naught for morals, and dearly loves a mystery, and so, dawdling, perishes. What touchstone shows in an instant both a-li 11 ninwist ana agnostic as iouowers oi Moloch and Ashtaroth and puts them in their true place, thousands of years behind us, so well as truth? One mild beam of her clear radiance, and the heathen stand confessed.. And now, how shall you best be true? You have failed in taking advantage of your opportunities at this excellent seat of learning, and of the privileges, of your society, if you cannot answer this for your; selves. I Educate, 6r as you will at once.define the word from its ety mology,1 draw out, every sense you have to the utmost of which it is capable. This you may do by read ing, by writing, by tho habit of do bate, by work at any employment or craft,.to:some extent by thought and meditation, but never by per sistent and lazy habits of idle rev erie, bv some miscalled reflection. And remember none of these physi-k cal or mental exercises will put any thing into you. There is nothing new under the sun, "The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be, and that which is done is that which shall be done," saith the preacher. Everything exists .within your body' and brain which went to make up Caesar or Charlemagne, Bacon or Shakespeare, Clay or Webster, j No orator, poet or sophist, can giva you a single thought, r Some tifiw t.r(c nf f nirtr.il v nnt.r.incr words together may attract you for a space, but you will find the thought to be" one whereof the germ has been Known io you since yu oegau ,u study your own hidden treasures. ll make no doubt, but that 'while -!I have been speaking more thau one of you, near the beginning of a phrase or a sentence has been able to out leap my words, and meet my thought, and know it also for his own. - And so, to be true, by which is meant far more than correctness of the speech, you must, like some careful gardener, note each plant springing up in the a il of your be ing ; the oeeds ari there, they have been there since the morning stars sang together. A few handfuls of earth shaken from ihe foldings of a mummy were not long ago watered, and placed in a vessel at a sunn window, and lo ! there in timecam up strange growths, herbs such as the eye of no man then living had ever rested on, having rare odors, and filling the soul with dim sug gestion of the cast. The plants which bore, these seeds thus fruitful dipped their leaves in the lapping waters by the banks of Old Nile, Uie pods which shed them were trodden in iYa Anat . urnrtVtluca Imolrc vi'liilo I . LlUVj ! v. V .a . V. kjkj I. 11 11 , ..III V Israel was yet in bondage to forgot-, ten Kings. Note the plants then, pinch ba;k some, root up others, dig about nurture, educate, many. If s n , , for which you have no taste, grow fair and ; tall,! transplant them to vour neisrhhora' land, who tier:s:j . .r lias laiicu wiiu, uui ueeus iiiein. Exchange gifts, each with the other. Find out which promises the Lus; and then, not neglecting the hn.a bler ones, give generously of time and skill tojthat. Allow nodoii.'ts to grow, out with them, every one,. Some enemy hath sown them. .No good thing can come bv cultiva ing them. You may as well, hope to reap golden grain from the tossing fields of tho unplanted sea, as. to garner vT harvest from doubts. In this way, and in ways like t'lis for these are mere hints, you will readily think of other, modes of uiawiug uuii wiiitb is wiiiiui, strive vu shape, not to create, to develop, not collect, to direct, not to copy, and so your whole life teres atque rotundus will grow to be a stately and polish ed pillar in our great Temple of the World. Earnestness has been li- icucu iru r lie in ciii 111 eijriL, quoth the apostle. Ardehs erexit ad athera virtus, chanted, the Sibyl, and it was a flaming chariot which whirled thefJrWnet to the zenith. We all have the fire kindled within, let it burn truly. That of the Ni hilist burns downward,, destroying all foundations. . That of the Ag nostic smoulders, he can neither see beyond, nor be seen within its' cho king smoke. The true altar ; fire should blaze white and clear, point; ing ever to its source. None of us despise a modest com- nAtflno.fi. wnn rw lW Tint, thorn are better things than money to re ward our earnest life. A man es teemed erood as men so. once waited on his pastor, and . complained - that his religious zeal' had waxed - cold. , , V (Continued on fourth page.) - v Practice in Jl Tlie Courts. -1) o
Lenoir News-Topic (Lenoir, N.C.)
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June 16, 1886, edition 1
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