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7! -I 1 LIU J PUBLISHED IN THE INTEREST OF METHODISM IN THE STATE OF NOKTII CAROLINA "Vol. IT. ."RAX-li: TGH, 1ST. C, JULY 1, 1868. TT -L JL '3 r. 3 A Pleasant Word. A little wnnl sometimes has power, If it is ucil uriiilit. To make the skit s that tlarklv lower Barn with a yohlcn liht. The heart o'eihitnlene.l with distress la its own dismal eell, A word will ronse to jiyousness, And gloom and fear dispel. It lifts the poor from dust, and brings Sweet sunshine to liw lim-.w And snreads JTonc's hriirht. evuItiiiL' , ' ' I W here peace might never come. V pleasant word, if nothing else, i Make elad the heart where sorrow dwells i And bid the Iyin:r live. Drop pleasant words, where e re you go. in cot, or crowded mart. And light and peace and love will glow I In many a wretched heart. mr uhc S nip It , A Pure 3Iotivc Signifies Giving. . 1T . . , ; orass, and leaf, and flower: and when And JestH sat over aaamst the treasury,!0 ' ' ' and beheld how the people east money into J the sun comes up, behold, all the the treasury: and many that were rich cast in i ,.i u t,j. i! Irh. vt there c.Mne a certain imnr widow ami .-he threw in two mites, which make a far- i i uEfatoVhK ! that tbU p. or woman hath cast more in than j SrlKhftiu VtSS j .he ofh.'i-want dhl east in all that she had, even I all her lh ing. j mere was goourv sur .luout tue icm- le that day, and a lively scene spread itself out to any who had leisure enough to look. The contributions to the treasury were going on. Citizens j 11 i -i oi an sons were commr ana ?oinr. lueh men and persons oi honor were ! meeting and greeting, ana if human : nature was the same then that it been since, it could lnu-dly be but that . . . . 1 - - , ostentation, and vain-glory, and mutu-. utiMIVfll A.S nTIf' llTTiOl 111 l!K fiblll- I I : I, mg gout, men oiuu wu: xivus h ; noble contribution, worthy of the man." As another came forward ami i UepositeU 1118 rrinceiy gitt, they saul: , -Ho loves tnc city; he is a patriot. ; As another drew Lear, perhaps .saying, . i 'lou cannot expect a poor man to do i , ., , , , .. ,T ; mucn, ana at me same time naiming out an unexpectedly large donation, thev broke forth with exclamation of , , , , , , ', And as the cheerful work i praise. went on, men with cheap flatteries -.Ti-iiibl nlcnsp p;wli nfTiov Whon inoii of moderate means gave, no one loolc. ed. It was all very well, but nothing to praise. But there was one comical scene that doubtless brought a grave smile to manv a dignified face. Among all these shining rtbes there came -iii . t ! shambling up a poor wrinkled old j , , -, T ereature a woman and a widow. In I her hand she held two bits of copper money, so small that the wind might .almost blow them away like dust. The two together made a farthing. She se emed to have no idea of the fig ure she cut, but hobbled along right behind one of the noblest men of Jeru salem. The dignity of his princely gesture in putting in the golden tal ents required some foil, and found it in the earnestness with which this poor creature reached out her brown and skinny hand to put in two mites ! Down went the talents into the treasury-vase with a splendid dash, and all the metal in that treasury rev erberated with the crash. Clunk went the two mites, with a sound so thin and faint that not a single person heard it. Yes, there was One who saw and one who heard it. Over op Xositc the treasury sat, in quiet obser ration, One from whose parted brow the brown hair fell down upon the shoulders, and whose white and calm face none could look upon with indif ference. He saw and heard, and He was the only one. But if only He saw all Jerusalem might look away. He Uad been thinking of what He saw. He knew what was in men, and needed not that any should tell Him. Not a thing had He seen worthy of remark. The equivocations of the stingy, the arrogance of the proud, the ostenta tion of the vain, the perfunctory alac rity of some, and the indifference of others what were these but the com mon events of daily life the muddy flow of human nature in its accustom ed channel? But this poor woman fastened His gaze. He did not see her wrinkled aimmeries were rue. xmswasaKinaj hear rather han the scanty ! to give but the heart. So slender are ! unfortunate. Go to the poor lace-ma nf reIiion wmcii men kneAV how to 1 i i i i t ti,.,. .,,,c. 4ii-- no i - - - .... m-j.w... .. .j . y0ll uu u uuaiiiuss jnociier ui i means ny wmcn ine neart expressea Liit-xi acth, tix.tL io Ba cer v,i10 worc.s iu a eelhir, because the practice; a patriotism which was easily !it l, that he should have taken sides ! thou-h there was no use of their giv- , -w, nvc. face, nor her skinny hand, nor tin; pitiful mife clasped within it. Ho saw I her heart; and that was very rich. ! She was so poor that her religion was j all that was left to her in the world. Something' she nmst love, something she mnst do, for that. She was not shut out of the familv of man utterly; for sh, too, could serve the temple, ! a man should give; that he should be and help its treasury. Wi at if it was j generous in act: it is necessary, be j but a little to the cashier that counted fore it can be well-pleasing1 to God, lit it was a great deal to her that I fTiiVC it Shc counted the gift as her heart weighed it, and not as the scales ;t Two mites ! Thev were not each of them as much as a drop of dew What if in the still night one should hear one fairy drop communing with its fellows, and saying: " What are we ! compared with this great ocean, or these rolling rivers, or even with the ' great round drops of rain that yester-! est and material effects. It shorld ' digging in the sewer and Biddy serub- day fell siuging through the air?" j take its rise deep in the soul, and bear j bing in the suds do not strike us as ! Yet, each sweet, invisible drop of dew out from thence something of the j being eminently suggestive of digni i holds on its way, and lights upon the treasure, of the dignity, and of the no- j ty. iJiuuiai .uui an wiau .wno r on it is refreshed and beautiful ! It is not much, but it fell out of the great, pure cool boorn of the skv. And her mitcwas small, but her he"art sent it. " nd he called unto him his disci- y j gav mitQ that ths r witow cast more Ju tian aU they cust into 1 j the treasury." Was not this like Him? That He ; sWJ have beeu s0 sensitive to any genuine trait anion' the noor. was ex-! nctly like clirist Xliat he sHmd . hav0 lil(ifcea out isc to one not uSed ; I to receiving it; that he should have i !iULh the vtil cf ontv,-ara A. W i nniP)a ftn(1 11nbilit.v of ' , ... . , with duty, villi sincerity, under the ft - trl, ... ost(.n. . . . a 1Jh . priJctllftt o was like him. . . 1 ; ,., c....:. ! in ijiijuiuitiiuii urn iiiv .uMuut uiu-.o , . , . , . of his remarks is the commendation of : the poor widow. They had given of ! their abundance. She had riven her i whole living. They gave, and nothing I . , . . . " .... i was lacking at home. Their table was still covered with ihe banquet; their pvine flowed ; their white linen and i j w?re stlil 8llfe- , at ! fu'c' n !f t: "I ! hatl Sven licr tUul-v bl'caiL ot Uf tu 1 ' she hart P41"1; nl tf1 mC? an"tllC1 mite could she buy food for her him- j ger, tmd gain strength to bear her i & e'f, , . , life-load. She put in her ease, her i . ,x , .. ' , rest, her bread, her time, and her j curso the fruit of sin. It is an abnor heart, They put in what they did j mal conaiti011 for a human being, made not miss their gold and their vanity, j in the intellectnal and moral likeness neither of which would suffer any j nt r,wl TTIv Sorirfnv iUin1vtftjw..h- diminution. It is the divinity of this judgment that will strike every one a judgment easy to be made now, but not so easv to be made then. For our Savior, in these few words, dissected the acts of ; men; and their charities and generosi ties showed liovz there were two meas- urmgs. And the one that was the most common and the least impor tant was the measure of a charitv ac cording to what it was worth in time and space according to its physical power, its arithmetical or geometric proportions. Not without value are these; but they are not the oniy valu able elements. "When men are deal ing in matters of patriotism and of re ligion, these are not the chief points of measurement in judging of their ac tions. On the other hand, they are to be measured from the bow that sent them, from the motive which inspired them. Men measure their virtues and their virtuous actions by the easiest standards. They measure them by those agreements among themselves upon which men consent to praise. They do not select the noblest mo tives of conduct. Indeed, many of men's actions in the right direction are eo-erced from them. They seldom think that a generous deed sho-ild be done from the most generous reason. They seldom feel that when a good thing is to be done, it should be cloth ed with all beauty. God loves beauty everywhere, but nowhere so much as among men. And He who clothed the rocks, and made them beautiful, and die soil, and made it -eati"i?nl. J and the lioavcn with endless changes of beautv, has also commanded thut men should not only do things that are right, but should do things that are beautiful. The Lord loves a cheer ful giver, and the Lord abhors a grudging gift. It is not enough that j that it should be a right deed, per- ; formed from a right motive, and with ! an amplitude of feeling-. Many and j many a 00tl act has crppt and crawl- i cd out of men, as if it were an insect; but men's good actions ought to fly out of them as eagles in the morning j out of their nests, with wings spread : all abroad, sun-painted. It is not ! enough that a man should do a thing j that is right outwardly, and in its low- bil it v, which can "nine only from the j Come look at this person in a cheer- x affections. Best is that act which j lc.s- and ehairless garret, sitting on an ! .nm no fnN fvrMorl --i'fh thn (rm.lnmiilvavm.lim- in i tl.in fm-n nMftt , v.wo w.v ..... I ties and generosities of noble and 1 princely heart, and which also has j sucli proportions that it sounds among j men with weighty footsteps and with i a hand of power. These combined mate perfect deeds. But how seldom are they joined ! How almost always they separated ! Men that can j produce material effects perform their actions too much irom vanity ana pride; and though the act is large and . .... ample in time, the moral power of it is small. And, on the other hand, those that have generous natures, and full; throbbing hearts, and that can give with princely feeling, are under cir- emnstances such that they have little n . 1 11 . mg anymmg, or aoing uuj tg. God. then, iudces by the heart, and " sees in physical things that which is gooct in t.nem, ana iu- u ant uu- vond to see what it is that the heart' mvns. as well as what it is that the! From Every Month. The Dignity of L.aior. (From Dr. Deems' plan for the X. T. working woman's protective union.) the beginning we may as well Oisabnsc our minds of any errors into we hG fillleii or be led int J in regar(i to the dignity of labor ! There 11n Ko-idtv in 1 ibor in is no uignii m 1.1001 m ,.u Tf o taxing ion. xt is a . in the sense of degradation, a i " " 1 I es that. And all the instincts of men teach that. Every effort of every toil- er is to put himself iu such a condi tion as to render toil unnecessary. Men woikhard that they maj' the soon- Cr cease to work hard. The very men who write books and deliver lectures ! on the "dignity of labor," striving to ' glorifv inglorious moiling in the dirt, to ' o o and the deep degradation of unloved and uneasy work, go through the drudgery of labor that they may ob- j tres and crowns, but never a human tain ihat which will procure some j being for the dignity of labor. Ev beatuit'ul paradise on the Hudson or ! erybody wants dignity, but nobody elsewhere, where they need no longer wlii- up their bodies and minds, like dray horses, to pull the loads of life, j The burden-bearers bow themselves and sing the songs of toil that they may forget their troubles; and to pre serve their self-respect they cherish all the words you speak to them about ''the dignity of labor." But the very phrase has a sardonic grin and a tone of bitter sarcasm. Dignity, indeed ! There are operations of the intellect and exertions of the body which may be iu accord with dignity; but they are such only as give pleasure while per formed, and leave no pain, no head ache, no heart-ache, no Hmb-ache be hind, and arc such as one returns to with as much alacrity as one leaves. The work of God is such. He never wearies Himself. When we sjeak of God "resting from His work," we can only mean that His work ceased So when Adam and Eve were m Pa- j radisc, and went to bed when they ; wished, und rose when they chose, and tended and trimmed the vines and bushes of their garden, making- no fa tiguing exertion, never weary, taking just such exercise as made repose sweet; trimming no midnight lamp; void of anxiet- as to the morrow's breakfast; untroubled as to the condi tion of some distant part of their plan tation; without knowledge of alarm clock?, factory bells, bank hours, busi ness engagements, work to be done, work to be undone, work to be taken home, and all the other discomforts of modern toil and modern civilization, the anxieties that make premature wrinkles and the wrenching1 work which pumps copious sweat from men j and women then there was dignity in work, for it was the unwearying work of a gentleman and the unfatigu ing work of a lady, "the grand old j gardener and his wife." But Patrick i vu.rlJ v.T , frock '-in unwomanly rays, With fingers weary and worn. With eyelids heavy and red. Plying her need le.and thread In poverty, hunger and dirt." j Go stand under her shattered roof and on ner naueu noor, in iue ami secern j ber light or Avhen the weather is warn and bright, and speak to her who has "No blessed leisure for love or hope, Hut only time for grief A little weeping would ease her breast: l!iit in lh'ir briny bed Her tears must .-top, for every drop Hinders needle and thread." ! TcU hor of the tlirnity cf labor the j f v ' oe ' o 1 A IVlf J-Vll Hill JVwil ij 4.0 i v. ,..t1. ..o.. I 0 make iuto marvelous beautv are so cx- ,- i 1, ' i, j wrought iu ft (1;imp place, and while uei.iuiiL;i iiiie luciu -'- cj iiiiisu , shf; wifch her rlieumatisms ail(1 , , .... ..... ,... .: ,.,.. , mat nignt in which no woman can work, tell her of the "dignity" of la bor! Go to the poor writer, racking her brain for plot and incident, for sentiment and rhyme, for what will make a "sensation," will sell to the ed itor or publisher, an unloved work, not the spontaneous outgush of hear ty poetry, but bitter waters labor ious ly pumped up from the almost dry wells of her brain and her heart, tor a pittance which merely brings enough to keep soul and body together meet her on the way from office to office in rusty garments and darned gaiters, and tell her of the "dignity" of labor! They will tell you that they seem r aturally to prefer the dignity of the lady wlu wears the laces of the one and reads the books of the other. They will tell you that it seems so strange to them that if there be "dig nity" in labor there never has been found yet a solitary man or woman, since the day Adam and Eve went fleeing from swords of cherubim, down to this blessed date, who has sought the dignity of labor. Millions have struggled for the dignity of place, of ' power, of learning, of wealth, of lion or, of social josition, of thrones, scep- wants the labor. It is a notion, a sham, a pretense, a lie ! There is no dignity in tin undesired, an unloved or forced, a painful, a wearing toil. He or she that endures it may be white or black, may have suffrage or bv .vuhout ballot, but he or she is a slave, and do ing the work of a slave, whether the master be known or unknown. But there may be a very great wor thiness and a very noble dignity in the man or woman who is toiling in poverty, weakness, wretchedness, in mine or smithy, or shop, or cheerless cellar or attic. There is a dependence upon others worse than the worst la bor. There may be an alternative more degrading than the most degra ding toil. There is no labor so undig nified as a cowardly shirking of one's responsibilities. There is no employ ment so mean as not to be chosen be fore an inane giving up to die of mere inefficiency. The strong swimmer in his agony has more dignity than the floating corpse. Immunity from pain ful exertion of limb or brain may be der of yirtue and onor of peace of conscience and of self-respect. The price is too great for the purchase. Frequently it happens in the chances and changes of this mortal life that a man comes into such position that the very existence of those to whom he is bound by every human tie depends up on his giving his whole life to a drnd- j gery, incomplete, unwholesome, mc- ! some, and contrary to all his natural i instincts and cultivated tastes. To prefer all lowness of position and all loads of labor before the suffering of those we love, that is really dignity; but the dignitv is in the man, not in this dirty work. It is the break of day. Painfully do the first ravs of the winter sun break through the soiled and cobwebbed window panes of a gar ret on the outskirts of the city. A poor, thin girl rises from her poor bed, on which all the clothes of herself and her little brother have been piled to keep them endurably the cold night. It was midnight when she retired; he had been in bed several hours; she had worked on by the dim light flung from a fluttering candle, wasting away at the top of a bottle. Through those soli tary hours her heart had gone back to her childhood, to the birth of that lit- tie brother when she was ten years old, to her father's struggle against the stream, to his death to her mother's widowhood and speedy decline and departure, to the hour when she stood in all the world with no relative but that little brother; to the resolve she made to be father and mother and sis ter to that boy until he Avould be able to take his place among men. Her needle sewed all those memories with her seams, and when the midnight hour struck she dropped her work from chilled lingers and lay down be side her little brother, her head burn ing, her feet so cold she dare not touch him lest he cry. And now when the j who called himself a Primitive Mcth morning came, after her uneasy sleep, ! odist, or a "Weslcyau, or a Churchman, she rises stiffly on her aching limbs, and counts a few coals ont of that a bushel of which has cost her the mak ing of a coat. And by this little fire she must work through all the day and take no time to rest. A coat must be made for the fire; two shirts must be made for the rent; and then, if she has strength to make any thing more, that may go for food, and if the three meals of her brother and herself cost fifty cents, she must make s'x flannel shirts, or nine heavyr overalls for men. At night she must cross the ferry and thread the streets, and carry her work home and bring back another bundle, draggling through snow and slush in poor, thin raiment. Is there an' dignity in that labor ? None whatever. Is there any dignity in that voung woman's character? Much every way. She prefers toil to crime. She has a dignity unknown to the bedizzened courtesan who spreads her painted charms to every lounger on the steps of St. Nicholas and Fifth Avenue Hotels, brazingly gazing at every passing woman. And, my fair and virtuous sisters, dear ladies of my congregation, yes roses of the fashionable avenues, ye ! lilies of the broad streets, so like the ' flowers in that ye toil not, neither do j 3e spin, and yet in your array surpass- ing ev en Solomon when he was play- j ing dandv-husband to a thousand wives ' let me tell even you that that working ! girl, in all her toil and drudgery, has ; more dignity m the eyes or true men and of God than you with all the line , point of your manners and all the Yere de Yere repose of your caste. She prefers to bend her body rather than j her soul, ami to crusn ner nesn raiuer ; than sacrifice her spirit, j Spurgeon' Views of Commuu- ion. No name is to-day more illustrious in tho Baptist denomination than that ; of Charles H. Spurgeon His brilliant talent, extraordinary eloquence, fervent zeal, devoted piety and wonderful success, have won for him a world wide reputation. His sermons have been published, in this country, both in books and newspapers, by hundreds of thousands. His is the largest Bap tist church, we believe, in tho world. The views of such a Baptist, therefore, on the subject of cotnmuniou, arc of peculiar interest. It is well known that he is an advocate of open com munion, and that such is the practice of his church. His views on this sub ject have been omitted from his ser mons we will not say with how little honcstv by the close communion j American Baptist publishers; but they arc found freely oppressed in the English editions. Iu a sermon, for instance, on the text, "These bo they who separate themselves" (Judo 19), we find a very strong expression in favor of open communion. This, in the American edition, is one of the mutilated ser mons; but the English edition besides other i"ungent sentences, contains tho following forcible and eloquent plea for unity at the the Lord's table: "There is not a Christian . beneath tho scope of God's heaven from whom I am separated. At the Lord's table, I always invite all Christians to coino and sit down and commune with us. If any man were to tell me that I am separate from the Episcopalian, the Presbyterian, or the Methodist, I would tell him he did not know me, for I love them with a pure heart fervently, and I am not separate from them. This bears rather hard on our strict communion Baptists. I should not like to say anything hard against them, fur they arc about tho best peoplo in the world; but they really do separato ; themselves from the body of Christ's ! people. They separato themselves ! from tho great universal Chtuxh. ! The' say they will not comma ae with it; and if any one comes to their tablo who has not been baptized they turn him it way. The pulse of Christ is com munion; and woe to the Church that seeks to cure the ills of Christ's Church by stoxpiug its pulse ! "I think it is a sin to refuse to com -mune with any one who is a member of the Church of our Lord Jesus Christ. I should think myself grossly in fault, if tit the foot of these stairs I should meet a truly converted child of G od, or ah Independent, and I should say, 'No, sir, you do not agree with me on certain points. I believe you are a child of God, but I will have nothing i to do with you.' I should then think tho text would bear very hard on nc: 'These be they who separate them selves, sensual, having not the Spir it.' " "We do not know, in all the range of Baptist literature, a more terse and admirable plea for open communion. It turns the tables completely upon tho close communionists. It makes close communion the six tho sin of bigotry and schism ! "We scarcely won der that such bold utterances should have been hushed by strict commun ion publishers. Too deadly thrust docs Spurgcon make at tho idol of sectarianism to please in this the High Church Baptists. So they resort to the cowardly practice of striking from his sermons all such passages. Tho above quotation was scut to us by an English Baptist clergyman. We doubt if any "regular" Baptist news paper would have the courage to pub lish it; and so we in turn send it to yon, dear Cnritcn Union, bravo ever in defence both of unity and liber ty Covonpii. Sands of Gold. Never wish a thing done, but do it. If you can say nothing good of any one, say nothing at all. ; T fr;edshin as in love, wo are of- . i,om;. :n Hum in our knowledge. Men arc generally like wagons; they ul m.0jigi0USiiy when there is no- tujn jn them. The body is the shell of the soul, tho dress is the husk of the body; out tnc nusis oiien lens wnai me ker nel is. No man should complain of being poor, or of hard times, who can afford to use rum or tobacco. Tho true wealth of a community lies in the integrity of its citizens, and its chief honor arises, not from the pos sion of great riches, but the posses sion of true men. There is one single fact which one : man opposes to all tho , wit and argu ment of infidelity, viz: That no man ever on his deathbed repented of be ing a christian. iBST'A call is issued for a convention of negroe representatives of tho Bor der States in Baltimore, on tho 4th of August for the purpose of the organiza tion of the negros of that State to agi tato the question of eqnol rights. i
North Carolina Christian Advocate (Greensboro, N.C.)
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July 1, 1868, edition 1
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