THE SUN. IN ESSENTIALS, UNITY ; LIBERTY; IN ALL THINGS, CHARITY. SUFFOLK, VA., FEIUAY MAECH 19, 1880. - - >? —:————---—— TSTumber 12. BRING MY HARP. Years hate come and passed away Golden locks have turned to gray, Golden ringlets once so fair Time has changed to silrery hair. Yes, I’m near the river-side; Soon I’ll launch upon the tide, While my boat with noiseless oar Safe will reach the other shore. CHoaus. Bring my harp to me again ; Let me play one gentle strain. Let me hear its chords once more, Ere 1 pass to yon bright shore. Oh, these chords, with magic power, Take me back to childhood’s hour, To the cot beside the sea Where I knelt at mother’s knee. But that mother, she is gone, Calm she sleeps beneath the storm, While 1 wander here below, Waiting for a brighter home. Chorus. V Soon I'll be among the blest, Where the weary are at rest. Soon I’ll tread the golden shore Singing praise forever more. Now the boat U ou the stream, I can see the waters gleam ; Soon I'll be where angels roam; Dear old harp, I’m going home. Choiics. Now the trials of life are past, I'm safe at home at last. Now my Journey is complete, 1 am singing music sweet. Uh, these angels, how they sing Praises to their heavenly King. And I catch the sweetest song ; Dear old harp, I’ve reached my home. Chorus. My dear old harp 1 need no more ; 1 am sale on the golden shore : I am sieging music sweet, As I tread the golden street. —Selected. ♦ HERE AND THERE. —According to Mr. Spurgeon’s Pastor’s College statistics to the close of 1879, it appears that since the foundation of the institution some 472 ministers have been educated in the college, and 132 churches formed, while through its instrumentality 36, 123 persons have been baptized. Tbe students in the college towards the close of the year numbered 110, whilst the ereuing classes were attended by some 200 studeuts. The weekly amount required for maintenance is $000, a large portion of which is con tributed by the congregation of the Metropolitan Tabernacle. —Hume used to go tocburch some times in Scotlaud. Collins insisted ou his servants going to church “that they might not rob or murder him.” Voltaire “built a church to God” al Ferney. Mr. Huxley wants tbe Bi ble introduced into boarding-schools. Piof. Tyndall is iudiguaut with beiug charged with hostility to religion; and Mr. Herbert Spencer leaves am ple space for tbe “unknown aud the unknowable.” The heart, like nature, “abhors a vacuumit craves for something beyond a negation; and as loug as tho unknown is treated as “unknown,” the cfaviug is hard to —Keligion may be said to com meuce wbeu a soul ceases to keep back auy secret from God. To live always bare to the soul’s core iu His sight is the condition of healthful re ligion. To speak out in His ear what cannot be spoken in another's those communicable things which each man’s own spirit knows, and which can be told even to God only in such inarticulate groaus as need a divine interpreter, this is that manner of praying which is'a necessity in the religious life, and which can only be reached iu secret. The reason for this necessity runs down iuto that mysterious personality which makes every being, at the last resort, a soli tude, impervious to his fellow, accessi ble ouly to his God. Largely iudeeil it is with sin, the peculiar coucious ness of which each man takes to be an unparalleled aud incommunicable experience of his own ; with sin, and with the secret struggle be has to make agaiust it, that the solitary con fessions aud petitions of a Christiau must for the present be occupied.— Yet this necessity lor solitary prayer is so far from restiug on the evil state of inau that it Is rather found to in crease as men make progress toward perfection ; while the memorable ex ample ot our Lord himself, throwing back light upon His words, demon strates how lndispensible, even to a perfect Son of God, was such retire ment from human t^ght into the soli tary presence of his Father. ANOTHER CHAIR. Years ago there stood in one of the squares of the town of Valencien nes a fine old Gothic tower. As it was remarkably lofty, the watchman could see from its upper windows over a great extent of country, and ring the alaim bell when Are occur red in the town. In process of time it was said the tower itself gave certain signs of de cay, and that ere long it would fall. It leaned to one side; and it was feared it would fall on a row of houses which lay near. For some days passers-by had seen small portions of stone or cement detaching them selves from the tower. The inhabi tants of the neighboring houses were officially informed of their danger, and received notice to quit their premises. Great was their alarm, and they gathered what they could of their goods and removed to safe* quarters. Oue old woman could not be indu ced to leave any of her furniture or clothing behiud her. The tower seemed to lean more and more. Large bits of stone, under the pressure, fell down the side. Some one said that the old woman still remained in her house. Soon afterwards she was seen at her door. The crowd called to her to come away. She would not but still continued to bring out old chairs, food and clothing. A gener ous young man rushed to her rescue, bringing her forcibly away, with whatever of her goods he could grasp with his arms. Shouts of applause greeted him on bis return l'rou' his perilous expedition. Every moment the final crash was expected, when suddenly, while all eyes were fixed on the tower, the old woman made a rush at her house. ‘T will have another chair,” she said, and rushed inside her house. At the some moment, the tower, with’au awful crash, fell, and crushed almost to powder the row of houses and all they contained. The old woman was never seen again. We call her a fool, and, doubtless she was; but was this woman upon whom the tower of Valenciennes fell, more foolish than hundreds of others who lay claim to wisdom and intelli gence! The world itself passeth away and the lost thereof. Like a leaning tower it is tottering to its overthrow, and it needs but the jar of the coming earthquake to lay its glory in the dust; and yet men cling to this world, to its honors, its pleas ures, its treasures, and its joys, and hesitate to break from its eucbauting wiles. But this is ouly for a little while, the day of desolation will come already the great God has given warning to men and has told them ol the frailty of all things earthly, of the brevity of life, the fleetness of time, and the certaiuty of approach iug doom ; but yet they refuse to heed the warning, and dread not the approaching calamity. At last the hour will come, when with flame and fire, with scatterings and tempest and hailstones, the enemies of the I.ord shall be beaten down, “in the day of the great slaughter, when the towers fall.” Isa. xxx. 25, 30. But beyond that hour of convulsion and calamity, theie shall dawn a day of peace for those who have heeded the warning given, and have fled for refuge from the coming crash, when “the light of the moon shall be as the light of the suu, and the light of the sun shall be sevenfold, as the light of seven days, in the day that the Lord bindeth up the breach cf his people, and bealeth the stroke of their wound.” OUR OWN. BY )|ARY R. BALDWIN. There are heads of families who, time and again, have read, “He that provideth not for his own is worse than an infidel,” and have boldly faced what they supposed was the only truth they taught—the provi ding for physical wants. I believe there are men by the score who would scorn to neglect the provision, even in the smallest detail who, nevertheless, are starving the soul of a wife or child. “I have been thinking,” said a sweet-voiced woman, as one spring morning she sat upon the porch, looking out with wistful eye upon the glad surprises of tho opening season, “I have been thiukiug how sweet it would be to have one of the old sur prises of my girlhood. I believe 1 have a weakness for them—at least my husband used to say, in our early married life, that when he gave me a surprise in the shape of some little pleasure trip, the effect was quite electrifying, it brightened me up so.” “Why, then, does he not try it uow !” “Well, yon know, as we get on in life we are absorbed in its cares, and do not see the wauts of those who are nearest ns, even.” That very afternoon I went to see a friend who was an invalid. She was afflicted with one of those obstidato nervous diseases so hard to cure, so little understood by those who have not suffered from them. “I have had a horrible day,” she said, ‘ if I could make you under stand, but I can not, I fear, just now I suffer. “The shutting of a door, the sound of a footstep, the murmur of voices, have caused me almost au agony. My sisters do not understand it; they never did ! and tor years I have felt within myself that I was slowly but surely drifting to this. “There have been times when I would have giveu worlds for just a few words of sympathy for my condi tion, but I had to do without them. When little events that the others did not seem to mind have sent me unnerved to my bed, I have been asked sarcastically: “Do you think you were born more sensitive than the rest of os t why can not you rise above these tilings as we do! I never tell my troubles now’, and they kindly leave me to myselt. 1 hey are not to blame, you see,” she said in apology ; “we are not alike, that is all, perhaps I am daring to hope this new treat meat will make me nerve strong, like the rest.” “The new treatment may help her;” 1 said, as I slow ly walked home, “but who shall take away the scar ol thoughtless, unsympathetic words!” Will that husband ever open his ey es wide enough to see his wife la ding before his eyes ! and will ho re deem the time, and bring back the light of her girlhood through a few of the' old time surprises ! Will the sisters, through a gentle touch, a tender look or a sympathetic word, take one thoru from the mem ories that may torture them when perhaps, the revelation may come all too late, that they have shown cruel ty even at their own fireside ! How careful we are to observe the courtesies of life with our neighbor, our friend, while we wound those who have the first demands upon us only because they are of our own household.—Church and Home. A SCENE ON AN OHIO RIVER STEAMER. BY REV. M. D. GAGE. It is nearly twenty years since the following incident occurred. The oc casion was one of deepest interest, showing the contrast between two widely different types of human char acter. On the same steamer were gathered a number of Christiau min isters, on their way to the May anni versaries of their denomination, at Cincinnati, and an equal number ol professional gamblers. As the boat glided onward through the ever-shifting scenes of the beau tiful Ohio on a lovely morning, the sky began to assume the aspect which indicates a coming storm. The clouds rapidly gathered, and a violent wind arose, which swept furiously up the river, lashing the water into fury, and causing great loss of life and pro perty, especially on the' uuinerous fiat-boats aud coal-barges descending the stream. Many steamboats were placed in great peril, among them that of which I have spoken. One of the clergymen on board de scribes the scene which eusued as the most impressive he had ever witnes sed. As the storm broke in its fier cest violence upon them, threatening all on board with iustautand inevita ble death, the group of ministers stood erect on deck, their cheeks pale with the effect of conscious peril, calmly trusting iu him who stilled the ragiug Sea of Geunesaretl^ and confidently committing their loved cues, whom they expected to see no more on earth, to the hands of a cov euant-keepiug God, while the whole company of terrified gamblers, who had rushed from their places at the gaming-table on the sudden approach of danger, fell upon their knees iu prayer for mercy, iu agonizing tones of voice pleading for deliverance from peril or tor pardon of their sins. No pen can describe the scene, and im agination alone can draw the picture of those hardeued wretches thus sud den'ly brought face to fa*e with death, as contrasted with that otVliristian men calmly awaiting their fate. The struggling steamer creaked and groaning at ever joint as the storm grappled with its siuewy form( au on seeming on the point of yield ing the unequal coutest, and then summoning all its power of resistance tojrepel the assaults of wind and wave. At last the crisis came and went, leaving the imperiled passengers and crew to experience that peculiar sense lopni unugci id who ban it. Batin' safety thire auifestation of ■h marked the the steamer’s of deliverance from which none can nrn not personally rea the moment of asst was a most signal the characteristics two groups of meu^ deck. No sooner was than the terrified gi their knees, their le suddenly changed t« with one conseut th« mutual apologies fq in the hour of per moment, those Chi who had stood up death, fell upou t: ir knees, aud poured forth their gi feful thanks to God for his preseof^ mercy. As the gamblers rallied from their ter ror aud resumed their course ofsiu, the voice of song brake forth from a chorus of voices attuned to thepiaise of God, aud there was a striking em bodiment iu real life ol the ultimate state of the righteous aud the wicked as foretold in the closing scene of the he danger past biers rose from 'ofdeath being ear of man, and began to make I their weakness At the same f‘ian ministers, ■avely to meet apocalyptic vision, Kev. 22:11,14,15 : “tie that*is unjust, let him be unjust mill; and he which is filthy, let him he filthy still: and he that is right eous, let him be righteous still: and he that is holy, let him be holy stiff Blessed are they that do his com mandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, aud may enter iu though the gates iuto the city. For without are dogs, aud sorcerers, and whoremougers, and muiderers, aud whosoever loveth and maketh a lie.' SUCCESS IN PREACHING. The waut of success in preaching is not the eriterian to encourage or discourage the minister. The pres ent age is oue of restless activity ; we travel by steam, we write by tel egraph, we talk by telephone. We desire to carry the same speed iuto our religions life, aud because we cauuot succeed with the same activ ity, we become restless and are ready to say all our religious efforts are fail ures. To check this impatience about success iu religious matters, we should remember that God did uot create the world in one day, that it takes now the*same time for tbe earth to produce its fruits that it did before the flood. The husbandman must still wait for the precious fruit of the earth, aud must have long pa tieuco for it until he receives the early and the latter rain. Wo must still coutiuuc to sow the precious seed, to water it and depend on God for the increase. It is not the learn ing of Paul, or the eloquence of Apol los that secures the end ; these are the instrumentalities ordained of God but the increase is of God. The duty of the minister is to preach the Word in season and out of seasou, to rebuke, exhort with all long sufferiug and leave the result with God, aud we have His promise that His word shall not return unto him void, but that it shall acoorn plish His will aud prosper iu the thing whereunto he sends it. The world will not be converted in a day, it will take time to do this, the Gos pel must be preached among all ua tious for a witness to the truth that Christ is the only true and living way to the Father, that there is no other name under heaven given amongst meu whereby we must be saved; and in mauy instances this gospel will be hid to those in whom the God of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ should shine unto them. The good seed sown was only pro ductive in the proportion of one, in the good grouud, to three. Noah was a preacher of righteousness, and labored for one huudred and twenty years while the ark was preparing, still there is no evidence that a single man believed his message and tied from the impending danger. Moses complained against Israel that they wero a stiff necked and rebellious race. Elijah was discouraged and supposed that he only was left of the true worshipers of Jehovah. Isaiah cries, “Who hath believed our re port, and to whom is the arm of the Lord revealed.” Christ was in his public ministry for three years, and the number of the disciples on the morning of the day of Fentecost was one hundred and twenty. Paul was greatly discouraged at Coriuth, but the Lord spake to him in a vision by uiglit, “Re not afraid, but speak and hold not thy peace, for 1 have much people m this city.” When minis ters become low spirited aud dis couraged ou account of apparent failures, they should reflect ou these examples and facts as they are recor ded in the Scriptures. God has a peo ple in the world; He has ordaiued that by the foolishness of preaching He »ave mem that believe. When we let fear of failure drive ne from our post to seek some other place may not God in His providence say to ns, as He said to Elijah, “What doest thou here, Elijah Christian Observer. A MURMURING MOTHER. I was tired of washing dishes; I was tired of druger3-. It had always been so, and I was dissatisfied. I never sat down a moment to read, that Jamie didn’t want a cake, or a piece of paper to scribble on, or a bit of soap to make bubbles. “I’d rather be in prison,” I said one day, “than have my life teased out so,” as Jamie knocked my elbow, when I was wri ting to- a li i«»d, lint a morning came when I had one less plate to wash, one chair the less to set away by the wall in the di uingrooin; when Jamie’s little crib was put away into the garret, and it has never come down since. I had been unusually fretful and disconten ted with him that damp May morn ing that lie took the croup. Gloomy weather gave hie the headache, and I had less patience than at any other time. By and by he was singing in another room’, “1 want to be.au angel and presently rang out that metallic croup cough. I never heard that hymn since, that it does uot cut me to the heart; for the croup cough rings out with it. lie grew worse towards night, aud when uiy husband came borne he went for the doctor. At first he seemed to help him, but it merged into inflammation croup, and was soon over. i‘I ought to have been called in sooner,” said the doctor. I have a servant to wash the dish es now ; aud when a visitor comes I cau sit down and entertain her without having to work all the time. There is no little boy to worry me to open bis jackknife, there are no sha vings. The magazines are not soiled with looking at the pictures, but stand prim and neat on the reading table, just as l leave them. “Your carpet never looks dirty,” say weary worn mothers to me. “Oh, no,” I mutter to thyself, “there are no muddy little boots to dirty it now.” __ But my lace is as weary as theirs’ weary of sitting in my lonesome par lor at twilight, weary with watching or the little arms that used to twine around my neck, for the little curls that brushed against my cheeks, for the young laugh that rang out with rniue, as we watched the blazing coal (ire or made rabbits with the shad ows ou the wall, waitiug merrily to gether for papa to come home. I have the wealth and ease I longed for, hut at what price ? Reader—young mother, you may be—bad you heard this mother tell her story you would have felt dis posed with the writer to say, “I will be more patient with my little ones 1 will murmur less."—Selected. NO SECRETS. The momenta girl has a secret from her mother, or has received a letter she dare not let her mother read, or has a friend of wbern her mother does uot know, she is in dan ger. A secret is uot a good thing for a girl to have. The fewer secrets that lie in the beartsof women at any age, the better. It is almost a test of her purity. She who has noue of her own is best aud happiest. In girlhood, hide nothing from your mother; do nothing that, if dis covered by your father, would make you blush. When you are married never, never, never conceal anything from your husband. Never allow yourself to writo a letter that he may uot know all about, or receive one that you are not quite willing he should' read. Have no mysteries whatever. Tell those about you where you go and what you do. Those who have the right to know, I mean, ol course. A tittle secretiveness Inis set many a scaudal atloat; and much as is said about women ivlio tell too much they are better oft'than women who tell too little. A man may be reti ceut, and lie uuder no suspicion ; not so a woman. The girl who frankly says to her mother; “I have been here. 1 met and so. Such and such remarks were made, or this or that was done,” wilj be certain of receiving; good ad vice aud sympathy. If all was right no fault will be fouud. It' the mother knows out of her greater experience that something was improper or un suitable, she will, if she is a good mother, kindly advise agaiust its repetition. Some mothers wheu they discover that their girls are hiding things from them, rebuke or scold. Inno cent faults are always pardoned by a kind pareut. You may not know, girls, just what is right—just what is wrong yet. Yon can’t be blamed for making little mistakes, but you will never do any thing very wrong if from the first you have no secrets from your moth er.—Preit, Journal. rm. Jnrm and PRACTICAL HINTS. To whiten ivory—boil in lime wa ter. To clean ziuc—rub on fresh lard with cloth and wipe dry. Never put a pudding that is to be steamed in auythiug else than a dry mould. Paint splashed upon a window glass can be easily removed by a strong se lution of soda. Old potatoes may lie freshened up by pluugiug them into cold water be fore cookiug them. loaves will be full of holes. To give stoves a good polish—rub them with a piece of brussels carpet after blackening them. A mixture of oil and ink is good to clean kid boots with ; the first softens and the latter blaekeus them. Two ounces of permanganate of po tassa thrown into a eistern'Xiji ren der the foulest water sweet and pure. New linen, may be embioideied more easily by rubbing it over with tine white soap; it prevents the thread lrom cracking. , A flannel cloth dipped into warm soap suds, then into whining, and ap plied t > paint, will instantly remove all grease. BUCKWHEAT FOR BEES. A good deal has been said for and against, as regards bnckwheat being! a good honey plant, and whether it paid to litter np a farm with the in eradicable stuff, for the sake of breed ing a few bees. Recent experiments by prominent and extensive apiarists in this and neighboring States, satis fy us without doubt that buckwheat is valuable as a houey plant. It was found in these experimental beds that the silver hull variety has more flowers on the plants, and yields more to the acre. The honey is dark, bnt is preferred to all other kinds by some people. It blooms from four to six weeks alter sowing. It will do fairly well on any soil, but thrives best on rich soil. It should be sown broadcast, three pecks to the acre. It Is usually sown here late in July, but for bees it had better be sown early iu June, then it will bloom “the middle of July,” when bloom is usually absent, aud will, we think, yield just as well; though we judge simply from observing small plauts. The cultivation before sow ing should be deep aud thorough. It is safe in estimating that each acre of bnckwheat sown within 1J miles of any apiary is worth $100.—Minnesota Farmer. ERRORS IN THE MANAGEMENT OE POUL TRY. Because the largest aud finest spe cimens of young fowls are the most desirable to kill off aud the small and inferior ones aud the old hens are saved to lay eggsTand raise chick ens. The repetition of this plau from year to year is the most effectual one on earth to degenerate the flock un profitable for eggs, the old hens be coming worthless and diseased, and the young ones will be dwarfed and feeble. It seldom pays to keep hens the third year. With age, they become great eaters, fatten, stop laying, get diseased and die. They may not eu tirely stop laying, but are not profi table layers. To improve the flock pursue the op posite course from the one first men tioned. Select for the market all the old fowls and the inferior specimens of young ones. Especially avoid the great error of in-and-in breeding. Change the cockrels every year either by purchasing or exchanging ! with a neighbor. Iu doing so never select an interior specimen. Pure bread fowls being more potent are the most desirable.—Stock F. if II. Weekly. It is a waste of capital to buy ex-1 pensive animals aud undertake to I keep them upon poor pastures or poor hay. To attempt to make up the difference by feeding upon grain will take off all the profit, and the animals will inevitably deteriorate. There is no food that can be profita bly substituted, in the long run, for grass and hay. The loss yearly to the people ot the South by the ravages of the cot ton worm is estimated to be $12,000, 000, which is iucreased twice aud oue hall as much in extremely bad years Renew your subscription to the I SUN. ocLtui tu Htutini. - h Foe Surf, Eyeb —1Take two t-.iblc spooufuls of boney, tablespoonfol sail., tablespoonful tincture of balsam bmls, tablespoon fill gum pine. Make rt paste and put it over tlie eyes A tbin clotb to go on tbe eyes lirsf. Relief for Dyspepsia.—Burn - alum until tbe moisture in it is evap orated ; tben take as much as you can put on a dime, about half an hour before eating. Three or four d«y s will probably answer, but take it until cored. Salve foe Cuts and Burns.— lake three carrots and grate them, place is a vessel and cover with fresh lard : boil thoroughly, strain and add lutirrnn to ftale * paste. This Is a valuable ointment for cuts and burns and wounds of any kind. To Prepare an Ego for an In valid.—Beat au egg until very light add seasoning to the taste, then steam until thoroughly warmed, but not powdered. This will take about two minutes. Au egg prepared in this way will uot distress even very sensitive stomachs. Cork for Scouring—Having * tried several different things—a bit of cloth, part of a potato, &u ,—none of which were quite satisfactory, I think I can now exclaim, Eureka! 1 have found that a large cork (au inch jug cork, costing one cCnt) is very nice, being both stiff' and tlexi ble, and the knives are polished with very little exertion. Baked Meat with Potatoes.— Pare nice potatoes, cutting large ones in two, and place them in a dripping pan. Take a good roasting piece of either beef, mutton, pork, or veal, season well with pepper and salt and put it atop of the potatoes, aild bake in a quick oven. Tbe meat should be fat enough to uurke sufficient drippings to baste with, otherwise butter or good lard should be added. Xo water is needed uutil abput ten minutes before tbe meat is done, when a little should be put in the pan, and the meat should be*dredged with flour. After the meat and pota toes are dished, a nice gravy should he made from the drippings in the pan. iS-'I ---■*+-* .— The sowing of clover seed, I think, is one of the most important and pro titable things that is done on the farm ; for, in my optuiou, clover is our main reliance in keeping up the tilth and fertility of the soil on our large farms. Clover is the only grass that we raise for hay that does uot exhaust but continues to improve the laud as long as it grows. The roots of the clover plant, penetrating very deep into the soil, looseuing and en riching it with its different elemeuts of fertility, it is said by practical far mers, enrich the soil fully as much as the tops of the plant. I think with a proper rotation of crops that with clover alone lapd can be kept as rich as you might desire it; but you must have your land rich enough, in the first place, to produce and grow clo ver, for it is useless and a waste of money and time to sow clover seed on poor land. I think that the best time to sow clover seed in the spring is from the 15th of March to the 1st of April. Seeded earlier than this, I have known it to be killed by slight freez ing of the ground. The young clover plant, before it has four leaves, is ve ry tender, and is easily killed by slight freezing, as I know from my own experience. A few years since, I seeded clover and orchard grass on a piece of rich lowgrouuds, upon which I had just seeded oats. The land was in flue condition to receive the grass seed. It was the 1st of .March, and the weather continued good and mild until the clover and orchard grass came up. I examined it, and never saw a better stand of grass. In a day or two there was a heavy frost and slight freeze, and more than half of the yonug clover was killed out—the orchard grass was not hurt, and I cut several fine crops of hay from the land. After seeding the clover seed one and a half gallous ou low-grounds, and one gallon on highland, I ran a two-horse harrow directly after the hands who are seeding. This secures a much better stand of clover, and is very improviug to the wheat. If the wheat is very thin, aud the ground cloddy, I prefer to run a roller, as the harrow in that case would be apt to cover and pull up too much of the | wheat. I think that thick seeding is | very necessary ou our lowgronnds to keep down the growth of other grai i aud weeds. T. M. Deitbick. Subscribe for the Sun.

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