Volume XXXIII SUFFOLK, VA„ FRIDAY OCTOBER 15, 1880. .1STumber 4-1 WHEN? If l were «»ld that I mu»t die to-morrow, That the next sun Which sinks should hear uie past ull fear and sor row For any ona. All the fifth! fought, and all the short journey through, What would 1 do? 1 do not think that I would sbriuk or falter, But just go on Doing my work, uor change, nor seek to alter Aught that is gone ; But rise and move, and smile, and pray For one more day. And lying down at night for a'last sleeping, Say in that ear Which hearkens ever, “Lord, within thy keeping How should 1 fear? And when to-morrow brings 1 bee nearer still, Do Thou Thy will." I might not sleep for awe, but peaceful, tender, My soul would lie All night long; and when the morning splendor Flashed o’er the sky, I think that 1 could smile, could calmly say, “Welcome riia day." But if a wondrous hand from the blue yonder Held out a scroll, Upon which my lile was writ, and I with won der Beheld unroll To a long century’s en«l its mystic clue, What should 1 do? Mwhat Bti JJVhat could I do, 0, blessed Guide and Master, _ Other than this— ItUlto go on as now, not slower, faster, Nor fear to miss The road, althougu so very long it be, While led by Thee? Step by step, feeling Thee close behind me, Although unseen ; Through thorns, through flowers, whether the tempest hide Thee, Or heaven’s serene, Assured Thy faithfulness canuot betray— Thy love decay. I may not know, my God; no hand revealeth Thy counsels wise, Along the path no deepening shadow stealeth, No voice replies To all my questioning thought, the time to tell, And it is well. Let me keep on, abiding and unfearing * That will always, Through a long century’s ripening fruition, Or a short day’s. Thou can’st not come too soon, and-1 can wait If thou come late. election^. THE FULNESS OF CHRIST. „ In a memorable passage, “the dis ciple whom Jesus loved” intimates that be and the three disciples were assured their Master was the Only begotten of the Father by his fulness. That marvellous plemtude of being human iudeed, but divine too, of which they “all received,and grace for grace,” was the crowning proof of his proper quality. Aud wheu his earth ly life was over, when they no longer knew him after the old familiar fash ion, this luluess was still more maui fest. The veil of flesh was rent, and Pentecost cleared their minds of tbe last- remains of doubt and misappre hensiou. They could declare, “Tbe Life was manifested, aud we have seen it, and bear wituess, and show unto you that Eterual Life which was with the Father and was manifested unto us.” Another of the apostles, one who had not shared with the rest the priv ileges of intimacy with the Lord dur iug his earthly life, testifies that “in Him dwellotb all the fulness of the Godhead bodily.” Paul, not less than John or Peter, received out of Christ’s fulness, “aud grace for grace”—grave upon grace; grace instead of grace; grace according to his varyiug needs aud answerable to ins prayers. Hence he could assure others,as tor instance, he assured the Phiiippiau church, “My God shall supply all your need according to his tiches in glory by Christ Jesns.” Hence, too, he was persuaded that iu Christ “are hid all tbe treasures of wisdom and know! edge,” unsearchable riches available through faith for tbe replenishing of all the souls of men with life aud lore The fnlues8 of Christ is Paul’s contin ual boast. We sometimes dream that it would be easier for us to live the Christian life if Christ were now upon the earth Without arguing this point, it is be yond dispute that personal influence is not dependent upon cotemporaue ousness or intimacy of association. A poet grandly puts this, when be tells us of “the dead but sceptred sov. ereigns who rule us from their urns ’> Augustine in his Coufessions, Luther iu his Commentary on Galatians, the nameless author of the Iuvitation of Christ, and Dr. Arnold in his Letters are each more potent in their person’ ality now than they were among con temporaries and friends. Death and time have augmented their persona! force and refined it also And as it is thus with the servants, so it is with the Master. It is not necessary to our participation of Christ’s fulness that we should see him with our bod ilv eyes. He certainly intimated this wbeu he said, ‘-Blessed are Ibej who have notseeu audyet have believed.’ The faithful reception of the testimo ny of “apostles of the Lord and) Sav iour” brings the sense of his fplness from -ence G..d an aud 'jst, into our souls, and draws out the believing heart such rev aud love as his drst disciples Wmly iy iu their best moments readied As he hiled them with a sense ot which Hooded their souls like ocean-tide, so be will ail ours; we, too, tnough we see him not, believing, shall rejoice with joy uu speakabie aud full of glory.” Our common experience affords some faint illustrations of the fulness of Christ with which the disciples were so deeply impressed. Now aud then we meet with a man who seems to-be endowed with qualities and pow ers siifiiciunt Urn several ordinary mor tals. We say'of such an one, “He is more thau two or three ot us.” We are amazed at the largeuess aud quantity of his being. Dr. Chalmers was always on the laok-out, as a the ological professor, for studeuts wkoui he called, iu broad Scotch, “Men ot icecht’’—men of large personality,rith er thau mere clever, brilliant fellows. He sought eagerly for indications ol this quantity or fulness of being, deeiniug it the characteristic of real greatuess. Christ’s fulness was not simply fuluess of mind. Probably the tisbertneu of Galilee, could not have appreciated merely mental greatness. Nor was it the fulness of superhuman power. That they did see in him, 'but it only excited wonder and awe But wbat they could appreciate, as plain, straight minded men, familiar with the hard realities of common life, was just that which they felt in his company. ..At was his moral na ture that they found so great and so lull. Perhaps they hardly have ex pressed tbeir feelings, but they knew he was altogether different from theii most notable scribes. What empty creatures, compared with Him, were they who sat in the seats of authority to Church and State ! What a large Inart he had, and how miserably nar row and contracted beside him were the very best people of the religious world 1 The common people hearo him gladly—why T Because, behind the words which spoke authoritative ly to tbeir hearts, there was a mingled sweetness and light which told of tieaveu opened and of divine love pouring itself forth in his person up on the world. It was the fulness of grace and truth, seen and felt iu his teaching, his deeds, his life. “To as many as received him to them gave lie power to become the sous of God,” aud they said as Peter did, “Lord, to whom shall we go; thou hast the words ol eternal life: and we believe and are sure that thou art that Christ the Sou of the living God.” This fu'ness of Christ is more evi deut to us thau it could have been “in the nays of his flesh.” Calvary auil Olivet have set iu a clearer light.— AH the ages of Christian history have aagmeuted the force of his personali ty. More aud more evident does it .become that “by Him all things con sist.” They who know him as “the living bread which came dowu from heaven” can never hunger, for their souls are iu vital union with the ful ness of the life of God.—Religious Herald. A Gentle Rebuke.—A lady rid ing iu a car on the .New York Cen tral Railroad was disturbed iu her reading by the conversation of two geutlemeu occupying the seat just be tore her. Oue of them seemed to be a student of some college on his way home for a vacatiou. He used much profane language, greatly to the auuoyauce of the la dy. She thought she would rebuke him and, on begging pardon for inter rupting them, asked the young stu dent if be bad studied the languages. ••Yes, madam, 1 have mastered the languages quite well.” •‘Do you read and speak Hebrew 1” ••Quite fluently.” ‘•Will you be so kind as to do me a small favor 1” “With great pleasure. I am at your service.” •‘Will you be so kiDd as to do your swearing in Hebrew t” We tray well suppose the lady was not unnoyed auy more by the ungen tlemauly language of this would-be gentleman. Subscribe for the Sun. DAILY BREAD IN^ HARD TIMES. “It’s dreadful to lire this way I I do wonder why God doesn’t answer your prayer and send you some work, fa ther.” “Are yon hungry, mother! I’m sure I thought we had a very good breakfast. And what a nice pleas ant bouse this Is that we lire in !” “But we’ve uothing for diuuer!” “But it isn’t dinner time.” “Well, I must confess I’d like to know what we are to hare just a lit tle while before dinner time.” “God has said our bread and water shall be sure, but he has not promis ed that we shall know beforehand where it’s coming from.” “I’atbei,” said little Maggie, "do you s’pose God knows what time we have diuuer !” “Yes, dear, I suppose he knows ex aetly that. I’\e done my best to get work, and I'll go out now and look around, and you go to school, and dm’t be the least Inite afraid, Mag gie. There’ll be some dinner.” “But we’re out of soap and starch and saleratus,” said the mother. “As for saleratus, you couldn’t use it if you had it, unless you had some flour. I’m sure I had soap when 1 washed my bauds this moruiug.” “Yes, a little bit. But it’s not enough to do the washing.” “But the washing won’t come till next Monday. As fot the starch, it isn’t one of the neecessaries of life.” “If I had some potatoes I could make some,” said Mrs. Wilson, mus ingly. “Well, I’m going out now to try and fiud some work. You just cast your burden on the Lord, mother, and go about your housework just as il you knew what was coiuiug next, ant. don’t go and take the burden light up again. That’s the trouble with you. You can’t trust the Lord to take us good care of it as you think you would, an! so you take it up agaiu.aud go rouud groaniug uuder the burden.” “Well, I do wonder he lets such troubles come. Here you’ve been out of work these three months, with ou ly an occasional day’s work, and you’ve beeu a faithful, conscientious Christian ever sinde 1 knew you.” “I’ve been an nufaithful, unprofit able servant, aud that's true, mother, whatever you may think of me,'’ re plied Mr. Wilson, humbly. “God is try iug our faith now. After he’s pro vided for us so loug, what will he thiuk of us if we distrust him now just because want seems to be near, before ever it has touched us f” Mr. Wilson went away to seek work, and spent the forenoon seeking vainly. God sayv that here was a diamond worth polishing. He sub jected his servant’s faith to a straiu, but it bore the test. I will not say that no quest:- nings or painful thoughts disturbed the man as he walked homeward at noon. Four eager, hungry little children, just home from school, to find the table nospread aud no dinner ready tor ;hem ; an aged and infirm parent, from whom he had concealed as far as possible all his difficulties aud per plexities, lest he should feel himsell a burden in bis old age, awakeued to a realization that there was not enough lor him aud them—these were not pleasant pictures to contemplate, and all through the long, weary fore noon Satau bad been boldiug them up to bis view, and it was only by clingiug to tbe Lord,as drowniug men cling to tbe rope tbat is thrown to them, tbat he was kept from utter despondency. “Thou kuowest, O Lord, that I’ve done my best to support my family. My abilities are small, but I’ve done my best. Now, Lord, I’m waiting to see thy salvation. Appear for me 1 Let me not be put to shame. 11 ‘Increase my faith, increase tny hope, (Jr soon my strength w ill fail.’ ” So he prayed iu his own simple fashiou, as be walked along. It was all true as be had said. His abilities were not great. Some f'rivo lous young people at prayer meeting smiled at the phraseology of his prayers. But there were educated men and earnest women who were helped and strengthened by those very prayers. Religion had raised a mau atiove mediocrity to whom Na tine had been niggardly. Without it he would have been a cipher in the community—or worse than a ci pher. He drew near to his own door with something of shrinking and dread. But the children rushed out to meet him wiih joyous shouts. “Come right in, father j quick! We’ve got a spendid dinner all ready. We’ve been waiting for you, and we’re fearfully hungry.” The tired steps quickened, and the Btrongly drawn lines in the weary face softened to a look of cheerfol questioning, such as was oftenest seen there. He came in and stood beside his wife, who was leaning over the stove, dipping soup out of the big dinner-pot with a ladle. “How is this, mother J” said he. “Why, father I Mr. Oiddings has been over front Bristol. He came just after yon went out. And he says a mistake was made in your ac count last August, which he has just found out by accident; he owed you three dollars more, aud he paid it to me. So I—” “1 don’t think it was by accident, though,” said Mr. Wilsou, interrupt ing her. “Well, I thought as we bad noth ing for dittuer I’d better buy some meat and—” “Do you think it was accident that sent us that money to-day, mother I” persisted the thankful man. “No, I dou't thiuk so,” said his wife, humbly. “I thiuk it was Prov ideuce. And I’m thaukful, I’m sure. I,did try to trust; but I’ll try harder next time. You haven’t heard the whole, though. Mr. Giddmgs wants you next Monday for all the week, aud be thinks for all summer.” The grace at table was a long one, fullofthauks and prar of many of the grasses usu ally cultivated. .Nffthing but abso ute neglect or eternal shade will destroy •a white clover set!, and with annual top dressing with barnyard or other coarse litter, and plenty of sunlight, it produces a swatp almost equal to red clover. It is a pity that che rough and broken laud that al most everywhere abounds in the South should remain valueless, when all of it might soon be clothed iu a sward of white clover that would fur nish grazing for all the farm stock, and teed numerous colonies of bees at the same time. We thus briefly call attention to this crop, believing that many farmers wenld derive great benefit from it if no mere than heir lawns and grouuis aroand theiv-< dwellings were sowed down to it. Rural Messenger. THE DRAFT HORS€. So horse is scarcer, or col f a better price than tlis large, coach or carriage horse.' Ev at our auction marts wi r looking, umler-sizeu i lor a mere song, u they possess speed 3 .50 to 3 :30. A < mg from Xasb villa New York paper! timl a pair of sup% iUlt, Uere, but not a