1
THE CHRISTIAN SUN.
IN ESSENTIALS, UNITY ;
IN NON-ESSENTIALS, LIBERTY;
IN ALL THINGS, CHARITY.
/
Volume XXXIII.
SUFFOLK, VA., FRIDAY APRIL 28, 1880.
Number 1'
"THE BURIAL_0F MOSES.”
By Nebo’s lonely mountain,
On this side Jordan's wave,
Id a vale in the land of Moab,
lies ajouely grave,
And no man dug that sepulchre,
And no man saw it e’er,
For the “Sous of God” upturned the sod,
And laid the dead man there.
That was the grandest funeral,
That ever passed on earth ;
But no man heard the trampling.
Or saw the train go forth.
Noiselessly as the day-light,
Comes when the night is done,
And the crimson streak on ocean’s cheek
Grows into the great sun.
Noiselessly as the spring-time
Her crown of virtue weaves.
So, without sound of music,
Or voice of them that wept,
Silently dowu from the mountain’s crown
The great possession swept.
Perchance the bald old eagle,
Un gray Beth-pjor’s height,
Out of his rocky eyrv
Cooked on the wondrous sight;
Perchance the lion stalking,
Still sliuuS that hallowed spot;
For beast and bird have seen and heard
That which man knewclh not.
But when the warrior d.eth,
His comrades in the war,
With arms reversed, and muffled drum,
Follow the funeral uir.
They show the banners t ikeu,
They tell his battles won,
Aud ufter hiiu lead his umsterless steed,
While peals the minute gun.
Amid the noblest of the laud,
Men lay the sago to rest,
Aud give the bard an honored place,
With costly marble drtsl—
In the greut minster transept,
Where lights like glory fall,
And the sweet choir sings,and the organ rings, j
Along the emblazoned wall.
ThiB was the bravest warrior
That ever buckled sword ;
This, the most gifted poet,
That ever breathed a word ;
And never earth’s philosopher,
Traced with his golden pen,
On the deathless page, truths half so sage,
As he wrote dowu for men.
And had he aot high honor?
The hill-side for his pall,
To lie iu state while angols wait,
With stars for tapers tall,
And the dark rock-pines like tossing plumes
Over his bier to wave,
And God's own hand, iu that lonely land,
To lay hjui in the grave !
In that deep grave without a name,
Whence his uncoffiued clay
{Shall break again—most wondrous thought—
Before the Judgment-day,
And .stand with glory wrapped around,
On the hills he uever trod,
And speak of the strife that won our life
With the Incarnate Son of God.
0 lonely tomb in Moab’s land !
0 dark Beth-peor’s hill 1
Speak to these curious hearts of ours,
And teach them to be still.
God hath His mysteries of grace,
Ways that we cannot tell;
And hides them deep, like the secret sleep
Of him he loved so well.
|j>eletth>ng.
HERE AND THERE.
—“I have been a member of your
church for thirty years,” said an eld
.erly Christian to his pastor, “aud
when I was laid by with sickness for
a week or two, only one or two came
to visit me. I was shamefully ueg
leeted.” “My friend,” said the pas
tor, “iu all those thirty years how
many sick have yon visited!” “O,”
he replied, ‘-it never struck me iu
that light. I thought only of the re
lation of others to me, and not of my
ielation to them.”—Conference Adro
cate.
—Is it not time our ladies learned
to think it a breach of good taste and
decorum to deck themselves our, as
so many do, in gay clothes and iinery
that attract the gaze of even the most
devout and sober-minded ! Are the
church and Sunday-school littiug
places for long, sweeping trains,
heavy with fringes and trimmiugs,
gold chains aud lockets, velvets aud
thread laces, jaunty hats aud bon
nets! If suoli things must be worn
at all, let it bo on occasions and iu
planes suitable to them, such as draw
ing-rooms, parties aud receptions.—
Christian Register.
—Sharp—sharp ought the line to
be drawn between the world and the
Church, The early Christians saw
the necessity of this; and the very
moment any church undertakes to
toy with the pomps and vanities ot
this wanked world—be it in billiard
rooms, ball-rooms, theaters, or iu any
of Si/bbatariun compromises, or by
tryii^f to popularise religion—as if it
was it drug to be taken iu some kiud
of treacle—then that ohurnh will get
ber/white robes besmirched, and it
will cease to be a godly church, and
become a worldly chnrcli, where re
ljiiou will he cultivated iu its ‘'mild
eft form”—amoug the roses—Cen
tral Presbyterian.
FAITH BETTER THAN FUNDS.
“Lord, iucrease our IVtir.li! ” ^is a
proper prayer for the disciples of Je
sus. But where is a warrant for the
prayer, “Lord, increase our funds!”
Vet, the latter prayer is a great deal
more common than the former. Is it
a wise piayerf Is it a safe ore ?
It was in a Bible class. The lesson
for the day was “The Rich Man aud
Lazarus.” Its discussion was after
this sort, between the teacher and
his scholars : Was the rich man lost
because he was rich ! No. Was La
zarus saved because he was poor !-*
No. Is there any siu in the fact of be
ing rich ! No. Is there any merit
in the factof being poor ! No. Ought
we ever to pray for poverty ! No.—
Ought we ever to pray for riches !—
The auswer to that question did not
come so promptly. After a little, one
said, “Well, that depends—” “Why
didn’t the other ‘depend!’ You were
all quick to say we onghn’t to pray
for poverty, why are you less conli
dent of the unwisdom of praying for
richest’ “But we might gloiify God
by riches,” said oue. How do yon
know that you couldn’t gloiify God
by poverty f Well, but we might do
good with motley. How * By giving
it to the needy, and by aiding good
causes. Do you know of any needy
persons? Do you know of any good
causes which ought to receivc.aid f—
Yes, indeed. Why, then, don’t you
«sk the jjOtd to send the money di
rectly to them f Why should you
want to lie the ‘middle man’ iu the
transaction ! Is that the way to led
and to pray ! Are you to count the
Lurd dependent on your good offices
lor the supply of his needy childieu,
or for the aiding of causes lie loves!
Do you now use every dollar he gives
yon as a trust to be .uncounted for to
him ? Would you give away every
added dollar Of your income, if your
receipts were largely increased ? or
would y ou use the greater share for
yourself, aud hut a small portion in
charities! Is not a prayer for riches
always a selish prayer, in whatever
phrase it may bo shaped ! It you
want to do good with the powers and
the funds already in your possession,
do it. If you want fo have others
helped beyond your ability to aid
them, pray that the help may come
to them. Do not condition your
prayer for them on a per cent age to
yourself, of all that God sends for
their relief. Your need is evidently
a need of more faith, not of more
funds.” Is there not a lesson in this
truth lor those outside of that Bible
class 1
lliches are at the best a temptation,
a hindrance, an entanglement, in the
Christian life. The love of them is
a root of every evil. The care of them
is an added responsibility, and an in
crease of labor. There is uo such
dauger iu faith. It is not that they
who have riches are shut out from
hope of salvation ; but.it is that thov
who “trust iu riches” sh"1,’, hardly
“outer into the kingdom of God.”—
Christians who lind themselves pos
sessed of wealth can pray for added
grace iu their added need. They'can
hope to be sustained under their
pressing burden, and to be delivered
out of their peculiar temptations.—
By faith they can so use the “mam
mon of unrighteousness” that it shall
become a treasure iu heaven” when
they have done with the things of
earth. But their position is never an
enviable one. Their lot is always one
not to he desired. And ns a rule this
is manifest to the world. Dean Swift
said, “We can see what God thinks
ol wealth by observing to whom be
gives it.” There are those who have
both funds ntul faith iu abundance ;
but they are not a common sight. In
any case their faith is more to be de
sired than their funds its practical
value is far grcuter, and so is its com
fort
He who thinks that riches are to
be desired,to be prayed for, is in dan
ger ef trusting iu riches. His peril is
greater than that of the man who al
ready has wealth. “They that will be
rich”—they that would be rich ; they
that want to bo rich ; they that pray
to be rich—“fall into temptation aud
a suaio, aud into many foolish and
hurtful lusts, which drawn men in de
struction aud perdition.” Who would
deliberately pray for riches, or eveu
long for riches, in the face of such a
warning of dauger as that t The
mistake of the Christian who longs
for riches is iu thinking that money
has some power in itself; or that, at
all events, it can be surely depended
upon as an agency for good. Of what
use is a bag of gold tied to a man’s
feet when be is swimming for bis life?
How much money would buy water for
a fumishiug man in a lonely desert?
Can you name the price iu dollars
and cents of the word of sympathy
aud cheer for which a heavy heart is
aching and breaking? Faith can
give help in all such emergencies.—
Money cannot. Gocl can be heard
from the ocean, from the desert, and
from the bed-chamber. lie is able '
ami ready to snjiply every lack of his ,
children, vvheu a<l the wealth of the j
world would be unavailing for their j
rescue and support. If it is for your
own welfare and happiness that you
desire wealth, you may be sure that
God is to be depended on as the
bankers are not; that faith is to be
preferred above funds as a means of
unfailing good to you. If it is for
others that you want the benefits of
wealth, your faith in their behalf
might surely to be woi tli more than
their share of your annual income
would be in case you had large rich
cs,
III tiie support of the great mis
sionary societies, and tiie other Chris
tian beneficences of the day, the!
prayers of the faith-filled are worth
more than the funis of the purse
filled. It would certainly be better
for you to secure through your living |
faith twenty donations of a hundred j
dollars each in aid of a worthy char-!
ity, than for you to give a .thousand i
dollars to that charily if you had the '
money to give. The exeic se of.
your faitli would bring no risk with
it. The possession of the cash w ould.
Therefore if is that t he prayer, “Lord,
increase our faith !” is safer and bet
ter than “Lord, increase out funds!’
Those who are really bent on doing
good to the needy find that U d
opens the way tor the supply o! those
wants which press most heavily on
their hearts for relief, Christians in
moderate circumstances tint only
give most themselves, but. tb.:n faith
secures must giving from others Ik
tiie number of ticb Christinas were
largely increased in our churches
there would doubtless be less done
for the poor, imd less given t« benev
olent causes, through those churches;
for the increased dependence on the
funds would be felt in the diminish
ing of faith and the lessening ol faith
filled workers.
\\ Uy, “Uncle Johnny Vassar” un
questionably secured, directly and in
directly, through his simple faith, a
l.niger aggregate of contributions to
the cause of Christ than came, or
than can come, from the funds accu
mulated by A, T, Stewart or William
IL Astor. If George Muller had cho
sen funded wealth, rather than a
daily supply of faith, for the support
; of his orphan houses, thousands of
! children would have lacked the care
they have had through his unfailing
trust in God; for no mail ever gave
for such a work as large a sum as he
lias been privileged to wisely direct
by faith. Yung Wing, as a poor
Chinese lad, had faith i-i large (liens-!
are. Through that faith he piev»‘
ed on the Chinese govern- ent t()
"i-opriate funds the ‘ mi!Iion ‘for
e '..stian project dearest to his
heart. His faith was better than
funds; It secured them iu abun
dance wlien they were needed—as
God whom be trusted recognized the
need._ ______' _
Bo it may be with you iu your
sphere. Whatever you need for your
ow n true welfare God is ready to give
to you—according to your ' faith.
Whatever he sees to be needed for
bis cause, and for objects of your
sympathy and compassion, lie is
ready, at your call, to send to them
according—as in the other ease—to
your faith. Your lack is rather of
faith than funds; let your prayers
be ia recognition of this fact.—<S. S.
Timut.
GOD’S CHRONOMETER.
Captain R. ami seveu sailors were
all that were saved from the wreck.
For eight days they were starving
on a raft. It was very cold. They
were without food or water, or outer
clothiug. On the eighth day a dis
tant ship was sighted. Att.ompts
were made to hoist an oar, with Cap
tain R’s coat on it for a signal. There
were many failures, for the men were
hut skeletons now, and strengthless.
At, last success was achieved, but the
signal brought no help. The ship
faded out of sight, and left despair
behind her By-and-by another ship
appeared, and passes so near that
the castaways made ready to welcome
the boat. But this ship also drove
on, and left them staring iuto each
other’s ashen faces. Late in the day
still another ship came up out of the
distance, but the men noted with a
pang that her course was oue which
would not bring her nearer. Their
tougues were swollen, parehed aud
cracked with eight days’ thirst. Here
was their last chance gliding relent
lessly trom them : they would not be
alive when the next sun rose.
For a day or two past the men had
lost their voices, but now Captain
R. whispered, “Let us pray.” All
knelt at the base of the oar that was '
waving the signal-coat aljft, and
bowed their heads. The sea was
tossing; the son rested, a red, ray
light disk,on the sea-line iu the west.
The men raised their heads; they
would have roared a hallelujah if!
they had had a voice ; the ship’s sails
lay wrinkled and flapping against^
her masts; she was going about !j
The red disk sauk under the sea,
and darkness blotted out the ship.
By-aml by there came the sound of
oars moving in a boat’s row-locks.
Nearer it came, and eveu within
thirty steps, but nothing visible.
Then a deep voice, “Hol lo!” The
castaways could not auswer; their
swollen tongues refused voice. The
boat skirted round and round the
raft, started away—returned, rested !
the oars, close at baud, listening.
The deep voice agaiu sounded;
•‘Hoi lo! Where are you shipmatesV’•
Captain R. whispered to his meu,
saying; “Whisper your best, boys!;
now— ail at once !” So they sent out
an eightfold whisper in hoarse con
cert ; ‘ Here 1” ‘There was life in it
if it succeeded, death if it failed.
Alter ihat supreme moment. Captain
It. was conscious of uothing until he
canto to himself oo board tbe saving j
-hip. There he learned thut there
was one little moment of time in
which the raft could he visible from
the ship, and only one. If that one
Hi tie tketiug moment had passed un
fruitful, those meu’s doom would
have heeu sealed. When the suu
reached the water’s edga that day >
the captain of the ship was sitting on !
deck leading a hook. The book fell;!
lie stooped to pick it up, aud bap
iw-ucu to glance at the sun. In that;
instant t hut far-off raft appeared for
a second against the red disk, its
needle like oar and diminutive sig
nal cut sharp and black against the
blight surface, aud the uext instant
was i hi nst away into the dusk again.
But that ship, that captain, aud
that whispered prayer had their
work appointed for them, and could
not fail of the performance. The
chronometer of God uever errs!:
While we are praying He bears.
MOODY ON_MARRIAGES.
Christ’s first miracle was perform ;
ed at a wedding. The first thing that j
will take place in the next dispeusa- j
tion will be the marriage of the;
Lamb. I want to say a lew woids
about matrimony. The moment that
I mention that subject there is a
general titter. People talk about
death as the most solernu thing i» ’j(e
1 believe that the most »'’ieinn 's'tep
that a man ever wa, matrimony,
t hot careIinmper 0( hells on earth
uay because people have not been
led together by God; because their
marriage was not made in heaven,
and God never intended them to live
together. They are living miserable
wretched lives in consequence. 1
don’t know any subject we ought to
pray more over, aud it is farthest
from our prayers. We pray for
everything else, but we do not pray
for a blcssiug on our marriage. Look
at our wretchedness to day on ac
count of it. I want to say right
here, and 1 don’t want to give any
uncertain sound, may God have
mercy on those meu who are put
away their wives for nothing. There
is a God of equity sitting in the
heavens who will jadge them by and
by. Don’t let those men think they
are going ito escape jadgmeut. This
thing oi divorce is alarming, and yet
Ivy many it is considered a triflle.
ilen get married to day and are di
vorced to morrow. “What God has
joined together let no man put asun
der.” The idea that a mau should,
without provocation, put away his
wife is terrible, aud yet it is being
done. 1 thiuk we are liviug in a
pretty dark day. 1 thiuk there is a
blight in many a home to-day on this
account. And let me say another
thing—that I believe in Paul’s decla
ration, that no unconverted person
should marry a converted person
What right has a man to give him
self away to a Godless, Christless
woman ; or what right has a reli
gions woman to ally herself for life
with mi irreligious mau f When you
speak to people about this, they
laugh at you and say it is uoue of
your business—that the church has
nothing to do with it. There is just
as imperative a law in regard to it as
the com maud meat. “Thou shalt uot
steal.” Look at the misery which
comes of such alliauccs. If you are
going to marry, my lrieuds, be sure
that you have Christ and his disci
ples there. Do uot do anything you
can uot ask the Lord to bless you iu.
We as parents ought to be very care
ful in whose society our children go.
We ought to pray very much wheu
they select a companion for life that
God may help them—that the match
may be made in heaven, so that their 1
lives may be pleasant aud profitable.
jesign in the institution of the
SABBATH.
a iew thoughts only will suffice to
*et forth our view of the design of
jut Creator iu the institution of the
Habbath.
Head Genesis ii. 2, 3 ; Exodus xx.
U; xxxi. 17.
from these passages I conclude
that, by the setting apart and sancti
fying of the seventh day, it Was de
signed to keep in memory and per
petuate the great fact stated by Mo
ses of the six days' work of creation ;
indeed, the oue great fact that God
did create the heavens and the earth;
to make known to all men, in all time
to come, the cause of the origin oi
the earth and the heavens; that this
cause was none other than the infel
ligent foice we call God. The crea
ture was not left to speculate as to
its origin. It was intended that the
knowledge of its origin should be
perpetuated by the regular recurring
seventh day, and the observance of it
as a day of rest. So that it stands as
a monument, pointing the miud of
man backwards to the exact period
(>l time when God the Creator fin
ished his work and rested from his
labors.
And, iu sanctifying the seventh
day as a day of rest, it' may hare
been adapted to our nature. Perio
dicity seems to be a law of all nature.
Thete is growth and decay, rise and
tall, ascension and decline, a zenith
and a nadir, in all the courses of na
ture, and it may be trpe, and I in
clitie to think it is, that one day in
seven devoted to rest is piomotive of
onr \well-beiug, both physical and
moral.
Bu^ that was uol, in my opinion,
the first and chiet design of the Sab
batic institution. And if it be adap
ted to our nature, it only shows,'as
all God’s ordinances do show, that
they wisely subserve many purposes.
But could man, reasoning a priori,
ever have arrived at the conclusion
that abstinence from labor ou the
seventh day was necessary for his
well being 1 1 think not. The insti
tution is clearly divine in its origin,
and the design could Lave been none
other than to establish a monumeu
tal evidence of the truth of the Mo
saic account of the work of creation.
— IK. P. Bond in Jieligiovt Herald.
SAVE ME NEXT.
A beautiful iucideut 1* told of a little
child upon a lute'y wrecked steamer.
The boat* were taking the passeu
away as fast as they could, eve
ry oue crowding forward, intent on
his owu salvation. One after an
other was passed down, while the
neglected child stood waiting her
Turn. The vessel rocked to and fro,
ou the eve of going to the bot
tom. Seeing no chance of escape,
the little oue stretched out her hands,
and cried, “Save me xext.” It is a
cry that ought to go up from mil
lions of hearts. The bark of life will
go down some day, and if we are not
saved in Christ, we must be eternal
ly lost. It is a cry that those of us
who are saved might hear on every
hand. It comps from that miserable
trembling, half-palsied debauchee,
who must have—will have rum. He
curses his fate and drinks again,
even while he cries out iu agony
agaiust the chain that binds him as
with fetters of brass, “Save me next.”
Strong arms must be held out to
such. None but God may savo the
rum-crazed wretch. Vi e may do
much to bring him to that Father
who turns no oue away. The cry
comes again from that gaudily-dres
sed woman whose words are possibly
louder than her dress. She may not
ask to be saved; she may not want
to be saved; but she ueeds to be.
N’oue but herself and God knows how
much. The call is to some Christian
woman to lead her to him who will
say, “Thy sins are forgiven thee.”
Many a Christian trusts Christ to
carry him through the valley of the
shadow of death, who does not rely
upon Him to take him through the
dread to morrow. Ifyeu are Christ’s,
you have no right to worry. He is a
safe pilot. You can trust him iu the
shallow, quiet river, as well as In the
sea beytiod.
Life is short, lived out to its longest
period, and if we would only pause in
its busy rounds and reflect for a mo
ment, perhaps we would have more
charity for one another, exercise more
patience to each other, and check any
uukind words that may arise to oui
lips.
The humble man, though surround
Ml with the scorn and reproach of the
world, still iu peace, for the stability
>f his peace rests not upon the world
»ut upon God.
FOLLOW THE BEST GUIDES.
New beginners in farming ami all
not thoroughly acquainted with the
details of this vocation, could not
adopt a better rule for their guidance
than to single out one or two of the
best and most successful farmers of
their neighborhood, and follow their
practice as nearly as circumstances
would render advisable. A good and
Successful farmer is a light for the
whole neighborhood, and wherever
the conditions are the same, or nearly
so, those lacking experience and
thorough knowledge of details would
do well to follow them pretty closely.
We do not advise a slavish, unvary
ing adherence to any pattern, unless
conditions are exactly similar
throughout, each farmer ought to
and most think a little for himself.
In fact he ought to make baste to
learn all about farming in order that
he himself may become a light to
others; but until be does this, ami
while going throngbt with the pro
cess of learning, there is no better
plan for him to follow than to imitate
closely the practices aud plans of his
more successful and better informed
neighbors. No book or newspaper
tells much about the little details o!
farming, the inodes aud methods ot
daily labor, and unless one has had a
long practical tuition upon tba farm
in every department thereof, theie
will be many things he cannot so
well or readily learn as by observing
the practice of the initiated. Ion
need not make a show or talk of you:
disci pies hip, if yen are sensitive
about beiiig thought iguoraut. Just
observe quietly but talk little. Old
Ben Franklin did, it is true, advise
people never to be ashamed to ask a
question, but we kuow by experience
that be who sets out to ask many
will have the mortification of being
often laughed at. If you are a close
observer aud a good thinker you
need not ask many, but may learn a
great deal in a quiet way if you try.
Follow the best guides, but make
baste to learn that you may not lie
always an imitator.—Rural Messtu
ger.
Cutting Straw.—Straw contains
the phosphates in large proportions,
and animals need phosphates to pro
vide materials for the formation of
bones. But milch cows, particually,
need phosphates, as these are always
present in milk ; every ten gallons of
milk containing half a pound of phos
phates or bone earth. Thus, a cow
giving twenty quarts of milk a day
needs to draw from its fo#d two
pounds of bone earth every week.
Straw also serves the useful purpose
ef distending the stomach, and thus
promotes its healthy action. There
is great saving in the cutting of
straw. The animals do not waste it
by dragging it out of their mangers
and trampling it under their feet.
Time and labor are also saved the
animal in masticating its food. The
cow obtains her supply of food readi
ly, and then lies down to ehew her
cud and digest the food.
The present necessity of American
agriculture, is larger crops at the
same cost, or a less proportionate cost
thau our present small ones. This re
sult can ouly be secured by addition
al fertilizing. The present average of
| our crops is doc more thau oue fourth
I of that which the soil is capable of
i producing, aud this extra three
I fourths may be produced without any
j more labor by the use of fertilizers or
additional manures; but fertilizers
chiefly. ____
There is no feae of a Surplus.
—The world’s markets are at our
feet. The fear that we may ptoduce
more thau can be disposed of, is a
bug-bear aud a phantom. It bns
been conclusively shown, that at a
certain price, we can control all the
European markets, and that this
price, while it pays us fairly, is
too small for a prophet to the Euro
pean farmers, who have to pay large
rents, heavy taxes, employ expensive
labor, and use costly fertilizers.
Facts Fob Farmers.—Wool eon
taius 18 per cent, of nitrogen.
The tassel of corn is the male flow
er ; the silk the female.
Two hundred and nine feet on each
side will make a square acre.
, Leaves have 170 months iu a square
inch under surface.
Five pounds of potash -n a bushel
of ashes.
Southbbn Cow-Peas will pro
dace good green fodder for late use
but cannot De sown until May, or at
ter corn is planted. Those who wisl
to sow them, should look tor seed
as it is not always to be bad.
WASTE OF LANO.
If a farm of ICO acres is divided by
into gelds of ten acres eucb,
t'ere are ti\ miles of fences. If
each fence now is one rod 'fide, no
less than ten acres of tbe laud are oc
cupied by them. This is eqnal to six
and one fourtli percent, of the farm
and the loss of the land is esactly
equal to a charge of six and onefourtli
per cent, on the whole value < f the
farm. But nearly every fenco row in
the country is made a nurse y for
weeds, which stock tbe whole farm,
and make an immense amount of la
bor necessary to keep them from
smothering thecrups. Much damage
always results to Uie crops from these
weeds, and if these expenses are ad
ded to the tirst one, tbe whole will
easily sum up to twenty per eeut. or
a tax of one-tilth ihe value of the
farm. To remedy this we would have
fewer fences, or we wculd clean and
sow down the fence rows to gfloss or
clover, and mow them twice a year.
Ten acres of clover or timothy would at
least supply a farm with seed and a
few tons of hay every year. We
would in short, consider the fence
rows as a valuable part of tbe farm,
and use them as such.—American Ag
riculturist.
HOW PEOPLE GET SICK.
Eating too much and too fast;
swallowing imperfectly masticated
food ; using too much fluid at meals;
drinking poisonous whiskey and oth
er intoxicating drinks; repeatedly
using poison as medicine; keeping
late hours at night, and sleeping Uf
in tbe morniug: wearing clothing
tight; wearing thin shoes; ueg
mg to wash the body sufficient!
keep the pores open ; exchanging
warm clothes worn in a warm r*
during the day for costumes and
liesnro incident to evening part;
compressing the stomach togratif
vain and foolish passion for die
keeping up coustant excitement; fr
ting the mind with borrowed Wwm.*,
ies ; swallowing quack nostrums for
every imaginary ill; taking meals at
irregular intervals, etc.
A
SEED AND SEEDLING
It hardly need be said that, if the
seed is not good, no good crop can be
hoped for. The necessity for selec
ting seed with care has been a maxim
of agriculture for thousands of years.
The oldest hooks tell of it. And yet
the success of persons, who-make a
business of doing this, is now made a
‘•nine days wonder.” Fufortunately
it is forgotten again in nine days,
and we go on sowing the seed just as
it conies lrom the sheaf. It is a good
plan to sow, at least a small strip in
the Held, with the best seed to be
procured, upon ground prepared in '■
the best way, and cut this by itsel
at harvest, and thrash it at once for
seed- But if this pays, why not
grow the whole crop in the same
way ?
Convenient Bean Poles.—Take
three good common laths to every
two hills, two for the beaus and the
one for a brace, set in the
tripod, letting the tops
one inch or mere, and i
nail will hold them together. The
object of letting them lap by a little
is to hold the vines up, for when the
top is reached, of course they lop
over and cannot slip down as they!
would do ou a straight smooth polei
Some of these beans will grow eight!
feet or more in height, but there is’
no necessity for it, and a better crop I
is produced by clipping the ends of
the vine.
Club boot in Cabbages.—
prevent this disease, which is oansr<|
by an insect, throw a tablespoon! d
of fine salt around the- stalk of t .&
cabbage soon after it is planted. This
will make it uncomfortable also for
the cut worm. A more effectual
plau, however, is to give the soil a
heavy broadeastiug with salt that
has been used iu packiug meat. The
blood extracted from the meat will
supply nitrogen to the plant. It is
useless labor to plant cabbages on
auy except rich soil.
To boil potatoes so they will be dry
and mealy—when the skin breaks,
pour off the water and let them i
cooking in their own steam.
To make a mustard plaster that
will draw well, but not blister, mix
with the white of an egg instead of
water or vinegar.
To drive away insects, scatter dry,
powdered borax for all kinds of iu
sects. I have proved this by .vear8
experience.
Renew
St'N.
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