Newspaper Page Text
1852.
vinced that, instead of being the work of
evil spirits, it was only the result of great
ingenuity.
A RAT STORY.
A neighbour entitled to implicit confi
dence, relates a story of the cunning and
intelligence of a rat, more remarkable,
we think than any we have listened to.
lie says, being plagued with rats about
his barn, he made various attempts to se
cure some of them with a trap, but with
out success. The trap used was made of
wire, and was so constructed that on a rat
entering and nibbling at a bat, the trap
would spring aud cage the intruder. The
man, upon frequently finding the bait
gone, concluded he would watch the
trap. Soon half a dozen rats made their
appearance, and among them one that
seemed to have more years than the oth
ers. lie advanced slowly and cautiously
towards the trap, and when the others
would make a move as if intending to
rush to the bait, the old fellow would wag
his tail, and they would fall behind him.
After viewing the trap closely, the old
fellow approached the back part of it, and
getting on it, shook the raised part until
the trap sprung, and then put a paw
through one of the openings between the
wires, and taking the bait off, made his
retreat it. The same thing was repeated
the second time the same afternoon. Our
neighbour determined not to be out gen
eralled by a rat, and set a common trap
in a keg, and covered it with Indian meal.
In due time the old culprit entered the
keg and was secured.
[ Wilkesboerre Advocate.
Lesson for Sunday, December 19.
THE SANCTIFICATION OF THE
CHRISTIAN.
“For by one offering he hath perfected for ever them that
are sanctified. Heb. x. 14.
The cross of Christ is an object of the
greatest wonder, glory and magnificence,
in the world; as we gaze on it, new dis
coveries and increasing beauties burst on
our astonished view. It is the grand
centre of attraction ; and, ere long, all
nations shall be drawn to it. It is the
sun that illumines the firmament of truth.
It is the tree of life in the midst of the
garden of revelation. It is a living foun-.
tain, from whence issue the streams o f
light and joy, peace and pardon, and ali
spiritual blessings. Here is
A glorious eefect. The sanctifica
tion of the Christian.
Its nature. To be sanctified, is to be
set apart and made holy. Believers are
set apart by a holy God, for the accom- ;
plishment of holy purposes, and the en
joyment of holy privileges. They have
a holy nature, holy principles, holy de
sires and pursuits.
Its degree. Paul does not mean to
say, that this perfection of sanctification
is attained on earth ; he is drawing a line
SOUTHERN LITERARY GAZETTE.
of distinction between the two econo
mies, the law and the Gospel; and pro
ving, that while one could not make
perfect, the other could. Read the few 7
verses at the commencemont of the chap
ter. Perfect sanctification, or a complete
renewal of the soul, is effected by the one
offering of Christ, and secured to all be
lievers; hut they are not put in posses
sion of it, till they arrive in that world
where a single spot of impurity can never
appear. Sanctification begins with the
dawn of grace, and is consummated in
the meridian blaze of glory.
Its means. The blood of Christ is the
procuring cause ; but the work is carrried
on by various means instituted for the
pnrpose. The word and ordinances are
designed for this end, and so are afflic
tions : “By these shall the iniquity of
Jacob be purged, and this is all the fruit
to take away his sin.”
Its agency. The Holy Spirit works
effectually in the heart, and applies to
our consciences the blood of the Lamb,
lie works as a Sovereign, where, when,
and how he pleases. The w hole presents
us with a stimulus for the Christian’s
future course, onward to perfection ; seek
to increase in holiness, and grow in grace;
also, a foundation for the sinner’s hope, it
is the offering of Christ; he was “once
offered,” aud there remaineth no more
sacrifice for sin.
[The following poem, by the late W. H. Tim
rod, has appeared more than once in the papers of
this city, but always with some typographical er
rors. We deem it not unworthy of another pub
lication.]
A SOUTHERN SCENE.
The scene which most delighted me in youth
Was ’round me still. A broad and winding lane,
Its natural carpeting, of emerald
Broidered with flowers of a thousand hues—
The wild rose clustering with the jessamine,
In beautiful confusion, quite shut out
The world and its entanglements—above
The loveliest of the southern forest, framed
Meet roof for such a temple, from the oak
Rejoicing in its never fading green,
And huge fantastic limbs, to the slight myrtle,
Studded with brightest blossoms—here and there
A lofty sycamore would raise its head
Most fearful of the woodland, last to trust
To the soft wooings of the smiling spring,
And first to cast its foliage to the ground
Before the breath of winter—but when high
The sun rides in his summer majesty,
Proudly the laggard sycamore puts on
Its garniture of silvery green, and waves
Its crisp leaves to the zephyrs with a sound
Like murmurs of far waters. It was summer,
A Carolinian summer, —when the eye
Shrinks dazzled from the blue of the clear Hea
vens,
Unless, as now, it falls upon the sight
Flickering through waving verdure. Nor did lack
Sweet music to the magic of the scene.
The little crimson-breasted nonpareil
Was there, its tiny feet scarce bending down
The silken tendril that he lighted on,
To pour his love-notes—and in russet coat
Most homely, like true genius bursting forth
In spite of adverse fortune, a full choir
Within himself, the merry mook bird sate
Filling the air with melody—and at times,
In the rapt fervour of his sweetest song,
His quivering form would spring into the sky
In spiral circles, as if he would catch
New powers from kindred warblers in the clouds
(£& liar’s Drpartmtnt.
CHARLESTON: SATURDAY, DECEMBER 18, 1852
VALEDICTORY.
Dear Readers :—At different periods in th<
history of this journal, I have been called upon t
contemplate the probabilities of its discontinuance
and the consequent dissolution of our pleasant le
lationship as Editor and reader. Whether yoi
would have regretted such a result more than 1
should or not, 1 will not ask. Cerfai ijlhe Ga
zette has been very dear to me by reason of th
unremi ting toil, and care, and solicitude, wit.
which I have sustained it during the past fiv.
years. In all that period I have never thought o
leaving it while it continued to exist. It set met
to be a part of myself, and I felt inclined to link
my fortunes with it —whether for good or tor ill—
in perpetuity. We are not, however, the master
of our own destinies, and circumstances which i
could neither resist nor coutrol to my own will
have abruptly broken the chain which bound m<
to the Gazette. I have to-day the painful dut)
to perform of bidding you all farewell. My con
nection of every kind with the Gazette is at ai
end. I shall meet you no more in the pleasani
walks to which our feet have grown familiar. 1
shall no more spread for you the intellectual ta
ble, and bid you to
“the feast of reason and the flow of soul,”
as I have been wont to do, for a period which
though it seems short, is really entitled to be
called a long one.
If you, dear readers, shall so far honour am
reward me for the past as to regret the separatiot
which must now take place, I can ask no more
My ambition and my heart alike will be satisfied.
I have devoted ten years ol my manhood t:
the one great task of building up the literature o
the South. I am neither modest enough, not
blind enough, not to discover some fruits of mj
unremitting labour, while I humbly acknowledgt
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