AND YE SHALL KNOW
WILMINGTON, N. 0,
Vol. JL
ft—.. ■<iiirninmmnmMm
Entered at the Port office at Wilmington, N. C., as sec
ond-class mall matter.] _
TEE POOR MAN'S SHEAF.
BY BBBN X. EKXFOBD!
He saw the wheat-fields waiting
All golden in the snn,
And strong and stalwart reapers
- Went by him, one by one,
“Oh, could I reap in harvest f”
His heart made Utter cry;
“I can do nothing i nothing!
So ■
. ^ At eve a fainting traveller
Sank down beside the door;
, - A cop of crystal water
To quench his thirst he bore,
r And when, refreshed and strengthened,
The traveller went his way,
Upon the poor man’s threshold
A golden wheat-sheaf lay.
When came the Lord of harvest,
He cried; “Oh 1 Master kind,
One,Sheaf I have to offer,
But that I did not bind.
I gave a cup of water
To oae athirst, and he < J
Left at my door, in going, • ,
This sheaf I offer thee.”
Then said the Master softly,
“Well pleased with this am I:
One of my angels left it
With thee, as he passed by.
Thou mayst not join the reapers
Upon the harvest plain,
But he who helps a brother
Binds sheaves of richest grain.”
-S. 8, Timet.
DEBT.
•,» • ■ • —— -
On this subject Mr. Spurpeon says:
Living beyond their incomes is the
ruin of many of my neighbors; they can
hardly afford to keep a rabbit, and mast needs
drive a pony and chaise. I am afraid extrav
gance is the common disease of the times,
and many professing Christians have caught
it to their shame and sorrow. Good cotton
or stuff gowns are not good enough nowa
days; girls must have silks andnatirifl. and
then there’s aTMH at fBe dressmaker’s as long
as a winter’s night, and quite as dismal. Show
and style and smartness ran away with a
man’s means, keep the family poor, and the
father's nose on the grindstone. Frogs try to
look as big as balls, and burst themselves. A
pound a week apes five hundred a year, and
comes to the country court. Men burn the
candle at both ends, and then say that they
are very unfortunate—why don’t they pnt the
saddle on the right horse, and say they are
extravagant ? Economy is half the battle in
life ; it is not so bard to earn money as to
spend it well. Hundreds would have never
known want if they had not first known
waste. If all poor men’s wives knew how to
cook, how far a little might go l Oar minister
says the French and the Germans bert ns all
hollow in nice cheap cookery ; I wish they
would send missionaries over to convert our
gossiping women into good managers ; this is
a French fashion which would be a great deal
more useful than those fine pictures in Mrs.
Frippery’s window, with ladies rigged out in
anew Btyle every month. Dear me! some
people are much too fine now-a-days to eat
what their fathers were thankful to see on
the table, end so they please their palates
with costly feeding, come to the work-house
and expect everybody to pity them. They
tarn up their noses at bread and batter, and
came to eat raw turnips stolen ontof fields.
They who live like fighting-cocks at other
men’s hosts will get their combs ont, or per
haps get roasted for it one of these days. If
yon have a great store of peas, you may put
the more in the soup; but everybody should
fare according to his earnings. He is both a
fool and a knave who has a shilling coming
in, and on the strength of it spends a pound
which does not belong to him. Gut your
coa,t according to your eloth is sound advice ;
but cutting other people's cloth by running
into debt is as like thieving as fourpence is
like a goat. If I meant to be a rogue I would
deal in marine stores, or be a pettifogging
lawyer, or a priest, or open a loan office, or
go out picking pockets, but I wonld scorn the
dirty art of getting into debt without a pros
pect of being able to pay.
Debtors can hardly help being liars, for
they promise to pay when they know they
cannot, and when they have made pp a lot of
false excuses they premise again, and so they
lie as fast as a horse can trot: .
You have debts, and make de*t» rtill,
If you’ve not lied lie, yon.
Now, if owing lea4» to lying, yon shall say
not a most evil thing ? Of coarse,
exceptions, and I do not want to
. !sl .. «aV
1Y
down by sickness or heavy losses; bat take
the rale as a rale, and yon will find debt to
he a great dismal swamp, a huge mud-hole,
a dirty ditch ; happy is the man who gets
oat of it after once tumbling in, but happiest
of all is he who has been by God’s goodness
kept ont of the mire altogether. If you onco
ask the devil to dinner it will be bard to get
him ont of the house again. When a ben has
laid one egg, she is very likely to lay another;
when a man is once in debt, be is likely to
get into it again ; better ke«p clear of it front
He Who gets in for a penny will
soon be in for a pound, and when a man is
over shoes he is very liable to be over boots.
Never, owe a farthing and yon will never.owe
a guinea.
My motto is, pay as yon go, and keep from
small scores. Short reckonings are soon
cleared. Pay what yon owe, and what you’re
worth you’ll know. Let the dock tick, bat
no “ tick” for m|. Better go to bed without
yoar sapper than get np in debt. Sins and
debt are always more than we think them to
be. Little by little a man gets over his head
and ears. It is the petty expenses that empty
the parse. Money is round, and rolls away
easily. Tom Thriftless buys what be does
not want because it is a great bargain, and so
is soon brought to sell what he does want, and
finds it a very little bargain ; he cannot say
“No” to his friend who wants him to be se
curity; he who gives grand dinners, makes
many holidays, keeps a fat table, lets his wife
dress fine, never looks after his servants, and
by-and-by he is quite surprised to find the
quarter-days oome round so very fast, and
that his creditors, bark so load. He has
sowed his money in the field of tbonghtlefis
ness, and now he wonders that be has to reap
! the harvest of poverty. Still he hopes something
to turn np to help him ont of difficulty, and’
to muddles himself into more trouble, forged
ting that hope and expectations are fool’s in
come. Being hard up he goes to market with
empty pockets, and buys at whatever prices
tradesmen like to charge him, and so he pays
them donblfe^i^tig^^jM^^^injal,
trying little tricks and mean dodges, for it is
hard for an empty sack to stand upright.
This is snrejmt to answer, for schemes are
like spiders’webs, which never catch anything
better than fliesfF and fte soon swept away.
As well attempt to mend your shoes with
brown paper, or stop a broken window With a
sheet of ice, as to try to patch up a falling
business with manronvring and scheming.
When the schemer is found out, he is like a
dog in church, whom everybody kicks at, and
iike a barrel of powder, which nobody wants
for a neighbor. .knn'.)
They say poverty is a sixth seme, and it had
heed be, for many debtors seem to have lost
the other five, or were born without comtnon
sense, for they appear to fancy that yon not
only make debts, bnt pay them by borrowing.
A man pays Peter with what he has borrowed
of Paul, and thinks he is getting ont of his
difficulties, when he is patting one foot into
the mnd to poll his other foot out. It is hard
to shave an egg or pnll hairs ont of a ball
pate, bnt they are both easier than, paying!
debts ont of an empty pocket. Sampson was;
a strong man, bnt he could not pay debts
withont money, and he is a fool yho thinks
be can do it by scheming. As to borrowing
money of loan societies, it’s like a drowning
man catching at xazors ; Jews and Gentiles,
when they lend money, generally plnck the
geese as long as they have any feathers T A
man must cot down his outgoings and sale
save his incomings if he wants to clear him
self ; yon can’t spend your penny and pay
debts with it too.. Stint the kitchen if the
purse is out. Don’t believe in any Way of
wiping ont debts except by paying hard cash
Promises makes debts, and debts makes prom
ises, but promises never pays debts; promis
ing is one thing, and performing is quite an
other. A good man’s word should be as bind
ing as an oatb, and he should never promise
to pay unless he has clear prospect of doing so
in due time; those who stave off payment by
false promises deserve no mercy. It is all very
well to say, “ I’m very sorry,” but
, i-- ' j1 i
A hundred years of n
Pay not a farthing of
THE PBOMPT GLEBE.
1
A young man was commencing life ini a
clerk. One day his employer said to him: d
“ now to-morrow that cargo of ej>tton tnnst
be got ont and weighed, and we must have a
regular account of it.”
He was a young man of energy. This was
the first iime he bad keen entrusted to snper
intend the execution of this work; he made
inti otto night, tyoke to the men
■ 3 s’ i \in nisi ' h
about their carts and horses, and resolved to
begin very early in the morning* half-past
four o'clock. So they set to work and the
thing was done ; and about ten or eleven
o'clock his master came in, and seeing him
sitting itr the counting-house, looked very
black, supposing that his commands had not
been executed. , V ‘ 4
** I thought,” said the master, jp you were
requested to get out that ^owgofcthis morn
ing t°
'] "It & all done,” said thtfyoppgman, "and
here Is thb account of it”J,:'t?Tl^
He never looked behind bfcn from that mo
ment—never 1 His Oharacter was fixed, confi
dence was established. He Was found to be
the than to do the thing with promptness.
He very soon came to be one that could pot,
be spared ; he was as necessary to the firm
as any one of the partners. He was a relig
ions map, and at his death was able to leave
his children am ample fortune.
WE OF STANLEY'S.AB VENTURES.
’While Stanley, the Afriean explorer, was
working his way down the great river whose
onion with the sea he was first to disoover, he
had* thirty-two adventures with the hostile
natives, in some of whieh he lost a number of
meh. One of these adventures is thus des
cribed by a correspondent of the Boston
Journal: • ' u . /• ■
.“The inhabitants had assembled on the
bank, seeing this. curious boat filled with
strangers approaching, and Stanley’s men said
they thought the cries, which were almost
deafening, of a friendly nature. But,Stanley
thought not. To him the cries Beamed war
like. However, visions of figgs,. chickens,
fresh milk, and- perhaps goat’s flesh, for his
exhausted men flashed before his eyes, and he
gave the signal to put into the cove. No
sooner had the boat reached the shore than it
wps ,hauled fifty yards up on the shore by a
hundred hands, and before Stanley and his
astonished men could realize Where they were
they found themselves in tbe^episs of a circle
ufsaveftos, shah af iwb'lui WW atT^
row at the unlnoky rights. There were sev
eral hundred of these people, called the Bum
brrch, after the name of their island on the
shores, and Stanley says that he expected to
be instantly massaored* His gun and those
of his men lay in the bottom of the boat, and
to stoop to pick them up would have brought
shower of arrows and instant death. So he
endeavored to reason with the savages, and
showed them some cloths and beads, which
they accepted.: They crowded around the
boat, however, and one man took hold of
Stanley’s hair and gave it a violent wrench,
thinking it was a cap and would come off,
disclosing wool. This was hard to bear, and
meanwhile one of Stanley’s men received a
stunning blow from a spear-handle. Then
the explorer made another little speech, ask
ing for food and to be allowed to continue
his journey, promising more cloth and beads.
The savages then made several ferocious de
fhohstrations, rushing down Upon him, gnash
ing their teeth and shaking their spears in his
very face, but they did not kill him and final
ly retired to consult. This mortal agony of
suspense lasted froth nine in the morning
until three in the afternoon, during which
time Stanley, did not get out of his boat, nor
did be take his eye off the islanders. At last,
seeing no chance of anything but death, be
gave the signal to his men to be ready at a
certain cry to drag the boat into the water.
Presently the islanders began to return, and
something told Stanley not to wait. So he
shouted the word- ai ooa%maod, trad the boat
flew down the slope into the Water, his men
diving all around it like so many muskrats,
in tbeireagernees to escape the javelins and
arrows which they knew would come. Stanley
picked up his elephant gnn and, as an island
er bounding on the beach was preparing to
fire an arrow after the boat, he shot him, and
the immense bullet, passing through the sav
age’s body, killed another behind him.
Meantime it was discovered that the oars were
lost, and Stanley’s men were paddPng with
their hands as fast as they could to get out of
arrow range, when they were horrified to
see thirty-six Barrages pot ofi from Bumbrieh
in three large canoes. The men,in Stanley’s
boat were anxious to fire at. once, but he or
dered'them to allow the canoes to approach,
and Succeeded- in'iinkiug two of them by fir
ing into their sides at the water line. In two
minutes two dozen savages were struggling in
the trater and beating away for the shore with
vigorous strokes; the third eanoe nenonnoed
pursuit, and Stands and hit men found them
selves safe, but still half dead from hpugei
when they joined the main body of thee;tpe
dition.”’;vi- su j
HOW TO FILL A OHURCE.
The evening service on Sunday in a certain
congregation was poorly attended. People
thought they ooald not oome out twice a Snn
day to ohnroh.
The council talked the matter over. Their
talk resulted in a pledge to each other that
they would never absent themselves willingly
Irom thestfrening service, and that they would
urge every one they saw to plan for a second
attendance.
pafeffltTtalkednt"o ver. “TheylSuti®
that their children were not in the habit of
spending the evening religiously or profita
bly, and they, determined to set them an ex
ample of an earnest devotion to spiritual con
cerns. They began going twice a day the
Sunday after.
The young men talked it over. They con
cluded that it was their duty to attend both
services, and to bring at least one young man
apiece with them.
The young ladies talked it over. They
thought that if they could go to a concert or
party at night it could not do them any harm
to be at church after sunset. They decided
that they would all go regularly, and take
each a young woman with them.
The minister did not know what to make
of it. He began to flatter himself that he
was a latent Spurgeon. The attendance was
increasing every week. Strangers, seeing the
direction of the crowd, followed. It became
the most popular church in the city.
0R08S BEARING.
“If any man will come after me, let him
deny himself, and Jtake up hie crose, and fol
low me.”
“I want to be a true Christian. I have given
my heart to the Savior, but I do not expe
rience the joy and peace which I believe it is
possible for me to have.”
Such a one lingered at the close of a meet
I have known many persons who could say,
I -was among the “Christian workers,” and
as I approached her I asked God’s help and
guidance. I will briefly record our conversa
tion. In reply to my questions, she said,
“I gave my heart to the Savior a few months
ago. I want to be a faithful disciple, but I
feel sad and downcast sometimes, because I
know so little of Christian joy.”
I said, “do you like to tell others that you
have found Jesus ?”
“That is what I have felt I ought to do
sometimes; but I confess that I have remained
silent.”
“Is your husband a Christian ?”
“He was once a professed Christian, but
he seems to have lost all interest in re
ligion ?” %
r“Does he know of the change in your
heart?”
“Yes he knows something of it. I told
him of my purpose to live a Christian life
when I first started.”
•‘DoeB he seem inclined to join with you in
your morning or evening devotion ?”
“I do not think he would, but I have not
asked him. I have not the courage to read
my Bible and kneel in his presence. I go
away by myself every night to pray;”
“Have you ever felt called to bow in bis
presence, even though you pray silently ?” j
“Sometimes I have, but I cannot tall you
how hard it would be.”
“Do all your family know that you aire a
Christian ?”
”ITo71 fear not. I have been almost on
the point of telling them bu tTcould not make
the confession, for they are not Christians.”
Words of mine seemed weak. Only God
conld help such a one, and; we knelt in
prayer. , ,
She followed me in an earnest prefer—the!
first, I believe, that any hnman ear had beard!
from her lips—in which she sought divine
strength and asked to know his will*
She promised to take some,decided step be
fore she closed her eyes in sleep that night—
to speak to her husband and other members
of the household of Jesus and his lore.
We met as strangers and we parted, not
knowing that we should ever meet again. A
few weeks later I met her, and she said with
a smiling face, “I want to tell you that I had
strength given to me to tell my husband of
my hope in Christ and of my anxiety for his
soul’s safety, and I knelt in prayer before him.
As my brothers came to the house, I told each
of my Savior’s love. After I had done these
things which I loug shrank from doing Jews
seemed dpar to me. Ope day, as j sat alone
I had sweet communion with him, and thb
room seemed filled. ..with light. The ‘cross
• - - 1 rtbaoi'dadT T
bearing? rwealefl; tome
l can say to-day, ‘Jesus is mine, and I am
.» -sJnwtt ■
I Did any of readers ever > bear febe cross
m w^a- find
any ever undertake anv task lor Jesus when
fcwanlepiaK. ,
sook me, and I bore‘:t»rrt»rd«ri bloftfc"
op;nt»%oan.bo4jiiifea(n?^.t.o •
JeeaA8aid/^Iio, ;I'am with you always even
nut ,
nbter Goddard, t» AtMrvct*^
^ i:w7a,f t0’r «*•» - J«<nT.t'
messenger,_,. v ■: ::qo
HUJiJil.M SUIJ9OT *71 Jfca l
INDEPENDENCE QF THE Nm&$l -
How edifies itthat p«Ht$iO; volume *eHM
fjosed by imnilde, man
ind science were b^t lf
3xerted 'more inf
»nd on the social syete1$ ofinf bH)|^|^b^p“
put together ? Whence cefedr |t- |h«t 4Bl»i
book has achieved 8ach maryelIotisch:^g^%«
the opinions of mankind—has banished idol
raised the Btan^rd trf ph^ic^M^ifea
home—^nd oansed 5 tnbi^be by
causing benevolent institutions, open and ex
pansive, to spring upas wff* u %ahdbf feta
cbaptmentP What sortWwbhbk fhfct ■
even the wind and the waves of hnman pas
sion obey itj? What jothor engine ofppcial
improvement pM|$tpd:so long,
none of its virtue r Since it appea
boasted plans of ameliorationTiaVi^
and failed, many codes of jarispt&defefe'havi
arisen and ran their course and expired. B&t
this book ie stiU goiugabqitdoingi
ening society with its holy. princTp
ing the sorrowful With consolation, gw
ening the tempted, encouraging the peni .
calming the troubled spirit, ifad smoothing
the yellow of death, a Can such a book be the
“ - of hu '
vamose at im onoow aomoawrato mo excel*
lency of the power to be of God f—Dt. Mc
Culloch. ' ■
A SERMON IN RHYME.
,'f
iiin
If you have a friend worth lovina, ,
Love him, Yes, and let him know
That yon love him, ere life’s e veiling
Tingehisbrowwithsunsetglow—
Why should good words he’ir be ssidL
Of a friend—till he'is dead? \ >L;a 4 ™
If you hear a song that thrills you,
Sung by any child of song; gvmH icH
Praise it, Do not let the linger o;
Walt deserved praises long, ti ,£a ki * ',j«jh:7
Why should one who ^irUlsyeqr heart. *
Lack the joy you may impart ?
If your work is made more easy t\i % we! A
By a friendly, helping hand, .vir?’, -,t . a c,j
Say so. Speak out bravely, truly,+fi;. • ,, „ q
8
«
ir: '.rote rul a: r.snho \%& .In fc ,^«8 j»$
Scatter thus your seeds of kindness, a f; - .{*
All enriching af you^r. :. f. * frcw
Leave them- Trust the Harvest-giver, .
He will make each seed to grow. ‘ u> ' *' * ‘
So, until the happy end, negro u'^ao
Life Shall never lack a friend.
aft
b iteOB tt!
HUMOROUS CORKER,
oj.-jjgo
BnmB tao
They dress expensively jwho go: V>jth»^r
(r,er for their suits. E > . {,, . r -,
A negro being adred. j»b^t0h§(vas>rAtt4aj
tor, said it was.for borrowingjnon ^
they don’t put people in j 84 for pof
money,” said1 theqtfeillkniiBt. **5^
the darkey, ‘‘but I bid' tolrnobk
See
it to me1”
s*. saia a r onrtn street auseao« to
as he.awakened . her.^pm deapifjim
i<r tuttes ? owmo w
nt 8&3pwi'o
“Wife,!* said a Fourth street ihnabandT to
his wife as he awakened.]
ber, “I '
form ottfPI JVH ,, „ „
“Ob, Jet me sWejfr,” angrily Replied
part, “and don’t be frightened;aftnyowmwn.
shadow.” .b-yhiicn t -z.
“Ish dere eoqie ledder here • fo* mefF in
quired a German atthegeoeral deUpe^Jbwih
dow of the postoffiee the
none-here,” was tte reply.
queer,” he CQntinued, getBheFfiw'J(b®ttF into
the ifiMb*^“my Ips 'sbm^
dree leddere in one day.'imd Hi
IgetnowrI
“Well, Fatiher Erpsffohgss di^yi
the sermon yesterday,?” ask?da
haven’t J| HL,
yoUrs. I%ra«oMmim
peetty weli back by the
I
m sernadhs of
*n*i‘i*#H««hlbt
of me wM thef mpuths>,^ „
ing down alt 'the fie,t of ’««
gets down to me ts pnM^ pObf _ ,r
patty.potonatnfiyA e ei eJsvsIo
kgap&di lo’ %iieammoo Iiavsesoiiur «A ■ .>