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VOL. 12--NO. 35.
Growth, and Development in Christian
Life—Consider the Lilies, how
They Grow.—Matthew VI, 28-
BY \V. Ji. 11. SEAIICY.
This lesson teaches us to trust in God;
to trust him not only for our food and
raiment, but for our growth and devel
opment in the divine life. We are taught
that the fowls of the air do not sow;
neither do they reap, or gather into barns;
and yet our Heavenly Father feeds them.
I have often wondered hew they survived
the great storms of the north, where the
snow covors the ground for weeks; but
they do survive them, and when the snow
has melted away you hear again their
1 chirping in the trees. This lesson tells
us how they survive these storms —God
foods them. We are ofimore value than
the fowls of the air; why can not we
trust him for our food?
Tiie lilies of the field are clad in garm
ents more beautiful than those which
adorned King Solomon. The queen of
the south, when she visited the magnifi
cent palace of this great king, was struck
witli wonder and admiration at the splen
dor and glory with which he was sur
rounded. Yet Christ says, he was not
arrayed like the simple lily of the field.
If God so clothes the grass of thfe field,
will he not clothe you?
But these things concern the llesli; the
lesson teaclift'}, us something higher—
the growth raid development of the soul.
This ijt-vwsjfrifrsTin the growth of the
lily. Consider *lie hly, how it erows.
Let us devote ourselves more particularly
to this thought.
»o..nt Our.SaviprAsays, thoffiiy—-Gfi.
■either doo-’id 'V.ien I first con
sidered this lesson, I made a distinction
between toil and labor. Toil, you know,
s excessive labor—labor to fatigue.
When I looked at the original, however’
I found that the word meant simple labor,
and therefore the lily did not labor or
spin. When I ascertained this truth, I
■nderstood this twenty-seventh »verse,
which says, “Which of you by taking
thought can add one cubit unto his
stature.” This applies not only to the
physical, but to the mental and spiritual
■ran. We must grow and develop with
out thinking about it, and without toil
ing and spinning to secure it. Ido not
mean to say that a Christian shall not
labor, far from it. Labor is the sentence
and mandate of divinity.
God said, “In the sweat of thy face,
thou slialt eat thy bread,” and if.a man
does not labor, neither shall lie eat. If I
■ tie my hand up in a sling, it will wither
away; if I neglect to read and study, my
mind will be dwarfed; if I neglect to
exercise the gifts of my soul, I become a
Man must labor; hut for what purpose?
For his sustenance and preservation.
The lily labors that way; it sends its
roots into the soil and leaves into the
air, and gathers food fromjall its environ
It is a principle in nature that when
we use any of our faculties or members
to the extent of the powers for which
they are given us, God will develop them
that they may be still more useful.
The blacksmith uses his arm to its
fullest power, and God develops and
The scholar uses his mind to its fullest
power, and God develops! it to a broad
and liberal culture.
The Christiaiqshould use the faculties
of his soul to their fullest power, and
God will enlarge and develop them that
he may take in more of God and hu
We use our faculties and members for
sustenance; God develops what we sus
tain, and what we do not sustain must
die. The Christian who does not sustain
his Christianity by work and labor can
but die, for faith without works is dead.
As Mr. Ruskin says, .“Thereis a differ
ence between the works of God and the
works of man.” About the works of
man we always find evidences of his
labor; but about the works of God, we
find only the power of divinity. Let me il
lustrate: Go with mo to the quarry whore
man outs out large blocks of stone, and
I will show you the imprints of his chisel
and hammer. Go with me to where ho
erects the palatial mansion of earth, and
I will show you the debris of stone and
lumber, or, taking a more homely illus
tration, if we find along the highway
where a vehicle has been prized out of
the mire, 1 will show you the timber with
which it was done, and the tracks of the
men who did it, in the road. But net so
with 1 lie works of God: with them you
find no such evidences of efforts. Go with
mo to the Stone Mountain, and 1 will
show you a great stone hurled from the
bosom f f the earth by some great intern
al commotion. You see no evidences of
efforts here, hut the power of divinity.
Go with me to Tallulah Falls, and look
into the grand chasm into which the
houses of this city might he turned if
broken to pieces, and there tqp we find no
evidences of efforts; only tlio power of
divinity, and soj with all of God’s works
from the penciling of the fiower to the
greatest woiks of nature.
In the conversion of the soul, and its
development to the state of righteous
ness, we find no evidence of the efforts
of man, none of his tracks, no imprints
of liis chisel. We only find evidences of
the power of the Great God of nature.
This is.not man’s work, it.is God’s work.
Men differ in their viows as to when
the state of righteousness is reached.
Some fixing the time at conversion,
others at a sec md blessing or second work
of grace, and still others just before death.
I take it that those who have studied
the growth of the lily well will notice
that this blessing may come at any time
when it pleases God to bestow it. It
must come as God wills it, and in the
time that seemeth best to him.
I heard a brother say once that he felt
as white as snow. Some may have
thought the expression extravagant; but
not so. The brother had simply placed
himself iu proper relations to God and
Atta, d to the state of, righteousness.
.2rqth ,-fcUtul sisters,our
Vc occupy Cliis reTa'tion to God all the
time if jWe can only trust him as the lily
trusts him. If we occupy the proper po
sition wo Will find the pearl of great
price and enter in to enjoy the fullness
of God’s love.
Let us resolve to labor as Christians
should labor, not for the development of
the divine life, but for the sustenance of
the divine life that is now in us, and God
will then devolop us to the realization of
our fullest hope for righteousness and
holiness of life.
Some Successful Farmers-
Cullooen, Ga., November IS). —J. W.
Blasingame, who lives two miles from
town, made over thirty-five bales of cot
ton. weighing 500 pounds each, on thirty
live acres of land. His corn averaged 27
bushels per acre.
Mr. Otis Sullivan made eight bales of
cotton from four acres, and his corn av
eraged twenty bushels per rcre.
Mr. W. G. Jones has sold thirty-five
bales of cotton and gathered 800 bushels
of corn from a two-horse farm, and thinks
he can do better next year.
Mr. W. R. Davis has a tenant who has
made five bales on three acres and aid
not manure at ail.
Silk Culture in the South.
What promises to demonstrate that
silk culture can be profitably followed in
the south is the attempt now making at
Lowery vale, Ala,, by what is termed the
S. R. &R. M. Lowery Industrial, Acad
emy, Silk Culture Industry & Manufac
turing Ce., to show that the silk worm
can be made a potent factor in the pros
perity of the future. The Lowerys are
colored people who, for the past ten
years, have devoted much attention to
the management of the silk worm. They
are located at Lowery vale, near Birming
ham, Ala. They invito the aid of forty
industrious colored families to settle on
one-eighth acre lots at Loweryvale and
engage in silk culture, the community to
work upon the co-operative plan. Those
wishing full information on the Lowery
vale experiment should procure a copy
of the circular issued by its promoters.
A large edition has been issued, and
friends of the colored people might be
induced to purchase it entire.
Working over butter is in a farm dairy
ail “art” that should, be lost as quickly
as possible.—Farm Journal.
Pot the heifer, says an exchange. Yes,
and keep up the potting until tho;“heifei”
is too old to milk.
Do not think of politics or your neigh
bors while milking the cow.—Western
TIIE OFFICIAL?. ‘ GAN OF THE GEORGIA STATE ALLIANCE.
ATLANTA, GEORGIA, FRIDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 29, 1880.
“When l seed that tjne marriage at the
Exposition I couldn’t h ' p from thinking
of the difference in tlio'ijtistoms of this
day and the old times,” said Plulfkett,
as he knocked the asd"s out of his pipe
and laid it on the shelf.
“As soon as er young couple get. mar
ried these days,” continued the old man,
“they think nothing v I do but they
must skin all erround tSie country on the
cars and take wh it they call a tour.”
“Yes,” ventured Brown, “and they’d
better take the money that tipiy spend
this way and lay it up,-or the day is
more’n apt to come w!i* the;- will wish
they had it.”
“That’s the truth,” spoke up Plunk
ett’s old ’oman.
“Yes,” said Brown, becoming ani
mated. “money’s migh-y necessity in
married life, and it has a heap to do with
the amount of pet names and hugs and
kisses that a fellow gets.A I notice that
it’s pappa this and papjJt tother when
I’ve just fotched money k>me, and it’s
mother this and mother ®jther when my
money’s scarce iu my ngpkets.”
“A family of girls iißp you’ve raised
need er heap of moneybuy ribbons
aud sicli like,” remarked Mis. Plunkett,
“and my old man thinks* he has a hard
time, but I tell him he don’t know noth
ing erbout bother.”
“I’ll tell you,” said Brown, “children'
are mighty sweet, but t)*:re’s adinggone
sight of drawback to a wMoj# regi
ment of them like I’ve got. Time's a
heap of human nature iu them as soon as
they get big ernougli to run and meet
you when they see you comii?* I’ve
patched mine, j
StßMiyk ypftToir ciySWvtar fb’
they come with beaming faces breaking
their necks to be the first to give me a
hug and kiss, but the very next minit it
will be, ‘pappa give me a niokel,’ aud
when they find I hain’t got none the
under lip will kiader drop down on their
chin and they’ll as good as say‘you d—n
old fool, you d—nold fool,’ and off they’ll
put to swing on their mammy’s skirts,
and the old man don’t get much notice
any more that night.”
Plunkett had sat quietly by and list
ened to Brown and his wife, but without
taking notice to their remarks, he re
“It used to be different in a great many
ways to what it is now, when youngsters
got married. Thar warn’t no taking of
these hero tours, and there warn’t no go
ing to the meeting house to make a show
of finery, but the big pot was hung to the
pot rack in the kitchen of the bride’s
father, and there was cooking of cakes
and pies and sich like for a week before
the weddin,’ and then the whole settle
ment gathered without any writ invite
and eat, drank and made merry.
“There wasn’t no rushing to the rail
road and taking a train and going off
among strangers to spend the first days
of married life, but there was frolic and
fun and joking and teasing that
made it amount to something when we
did have a weddin.”
“If ybu were to try to carry out some
of the customary doings of the widdin’s
of them days you’d have a pistol drawed
on you in er minit, and mor’n apt some
body would get shot.”
“You’re right” ventured Brown.
“For instance,” said Plunkett,‘.without
giving Brown as much as a look, “beds
didn’t have slats like they do now. Beds
were corded them days, and I’ve knowed
the settlement youngsters to cut the
cords of the bridal bed in sich away
that the young married couple would hit
the floor co-pumb the first time any of
’em turned over to lay on the other side
if they warn’t mighty careful how they
turned, and I’ve knowed ’em to gather
up all the sheep bells and cow bells in
the settlement and slip into the room'
and tie ’em erbout the bed of the young
married couple, and if a follow wiggled
his big toe some of the bells would tap,
but it was all right.
“Pranks of this kind were common
them times, and the girls and the old and
young enjoyed and aided in the sport
and nobodyhsver thought of getting mad,
but it mado a couple lay mighty stil all
“There was another custom that was
universal in them times,and thero was but
one way to escape and that was to promise
to buy the peach brandy for the boys the
first time you met at the crossroads.
“This was the putting of the bride and
groom to bed the night of tlio manage.
The young girls would take the bride and
fix her snugly in bed and then they
would leave her to lay anil listen to the
heats of her own heart till the young men
would begin to sen tile with tlio groom to
take him in. This was a trying time, hot
I never knowed it to hurt the bride nor
groom,and l never knowed a fuss to grow
out of it. One of these since-the-war
youngsters would have a pistol out in .
minit and the gals of theso times would
call it ‘terrible,’ but the gals of them
days wus jest as pure as they are now,
and they thought nothin’ of it—it's all in
“i got out of this puttin’to bed busi
ness,” said Plunkett, as ho cut his eye
at his old woman and the smiles played
among the wrinkles on his face. “I
agreed to buy two gallons of peach braudy
the next day, and they let me off.”
“But I had my trials that first night,”
continued tiie old man, as ho winked at
his wife. “The young wiromen had put
the bride to bed and went out of the
room, and pretty soon I went iu to where
she was. She was mighty skittish, aud
as frisky as a kildee. I have always
thuoghtt.hat myold ’oman, when Jshe was
ayoung gal, could move around and
bounce about pearter than any other fe
male I ever seed.”
“But that’s neither here nor there,”
continued the old man after a pause.
“I was iu the room with the bride, aud
it was foolish to think erbout* settin’ up
all night, so I got ready and tiptoed up
to the bed and there she Jay, snug down
in the feathers, aud if she was breathing
1 couldn’t see it, and my heart went to
. heatin’ the same as or horse , with the
'-lock er JioVwT sounded
like sledge WaKfffifclS —|-
quiet was everything. Mary lay thar and
there was not a muscle that moved, hut
pretty soon I heard her swallow like. I
know she’d been holdin’ her breath and
she stood it as long as she could, but
when i heard her swallow I kinder clear
ed up my throat and ’lowed:
“Thar warn’t no answer, but L heard
her swallow ergin, and then I said in a
whisper like, as I leaned kinder over the
“Thar wasn’t no answer still, but I
heard her swallow, and then I leaned
over as far as I could, with my legs press
ing ergin the railin’ of the bed,aud stand
ing kinder on my tiptoes, and then I
“ ‘Mary’—just then my feet slipped back
and I stumbled, the old bed screaked and
Mary give one of her quick flounces and
hit the fioor covip.
“I bounced over and picked her up,and
from that minit to this she has never
been skittisli of me,and we look hack now
through all the years and think what
fools we were.” ' Saiige.
Fruit Culture in our Cotton Climate
American farmers raise more than half
of the cotton consumed in Europe, be
cause nature gives tiie American inesti
mable advantages that will lust as long
as grass grows and water runs. Apples
grow in the highlands above the city of
New York for consumption in Europe,
giving the farmers who own the orchards
an income of about fifty thousand dollars
a year. His fruit is sent to European
cities in his own vessel.
Forty years ago the writer tried to im
press on the readers of tiie Southern Cul
tivator tlio fact that delicious pig meat
may be produced in the southern states
on figs and clover for less than half the
cost of imported bacon of an inferior
quality. Where the climate and soil suit,
figs, grapes, apples and peachos may be
grown by the acre, at a small cost, for
home consumption and .exportation. It
pays to preserve fruit in sugar for the
market. These small industries are hav
ing a rapid growth. Cold storage should
receive more notice. Tiie covering that
keeps ice from melting is not expensive,
and a farmer may find a fortune iu a cold
storage of fruits.
L. B. Pierce says in the Now York
Tribune that the loak is buying cows in
stead of raising them. A very success
ful, all-the-year milkman says this is the
rock on which many dairymen wreck a
goodly portion of their profits.
HE WILL OFFER. ' |
Tlio legislature having provided for the
election oi commissioner of agriculture
by the people, a reporter asked Judge
Henderson if he would bo iu the race to
“Well,” he replied, “I have taken no
occassion to make any public announce
ment to that effect, hilt 1 suppose there
is no use avoiding the answer to the
qnestio !. 1 will be in the race, and Ido
not mind saying that l have assurance of
support from many of the strongest in
fluences throughout tiie state. I have
now been commissioner of agriculture
for ne-arly ten years, and during that time
1 have done my best for the good of tiie
departm..lit and the benefit of the agri
cultural interests of the state. If there
have been any short comings it lias not
been because I have not. made an honest
and faithful effort tc make the depart
ment efficient iu every detail. lint,
I am willing to let tlio record of the
department speak for itself. It has
accomplished wonders in the agricultural
development of the state, and its capacity
for good has been increasing with unu
sual vigor during the past few years.
Why, when I took charge of the depart
ment, almost a decade ago, it was incon
stant hot water with tlio legislature con
cerning its very existence and the ques
tion of abolishing it came up year after
year, and for a time it was hard to toll
whether or not it could live; but the work
of the department soon demonstrated the
fact that it was a public necessity. The
question of abolishment died, and now it
iias the support, not only of tho agricul
turists of tiie state, but of all those who
are acquainted with tho good that it is
accomplishing. lam not v.dn enough tv ' j
claim those results as having been »e- i
JlP*<P]Aljf/d by mys' ls, butt J. do refer i
with just priffe To'erro
my administration the department has
been lifted to a level which ranks it
among the most complete in the south
“Havo you taken any steps as yet to
push your candidacy?”
“No, I have not, and will not, except
in such way as may be necessary to let
my friends know that I am in the race. I
do not anticipate any trouble in securing
the endorsement of the people, for I
think they will not withhold approval of
“Have you heard of any opposition?”
“No, I have not; I have not heard of
the entrance of any candidate into the
field, though I have heard the names of
several suggested. Some of these have
come to me and told me positively that
they would not be in the race but would
support me. I do not know whether
there will he any opposition or not, but,
be this as it may, Lam satisfied that I
shall receive the endorsement of the peo
ple in the nominating convention. I
think now that the method of selecting
the commissioner has been changed that
lam entitled to tiie nomination, for to
retire now would appear as if 1 were un
willing to submit the record of my work
to the people. This lam glad to do and
iu my candidacy I submit that record to
the inspection of the people.”
Bells of Bethlehem.
St. Louis Post-Dispatcli.
There is a market inside tho Jaffa gate
and I can see it just under mo as 1 write.
Great piles of oranges and lemons lie
upon the tlag sidewalk, and there are
scores of women with baskets of vegeta
bles upon them. Many of these are from
Bethlehem, and the Bethlehem girls aro
the prettiest you see in Jerusalem. They
havo straight, well-rounded forms, which
they clothe in a long linen dressjof white,
beautifully embroidered iu silk so that a
single gown requires many months of
work. This dress is much like an Ameri
can woman’s night gown without the
frills and laces. It falls from the neck to
tho feet and is open at the front of tho
neck in a narrow slit as far down as a
modest dccollette fashionable dress.
Over this they have sleeveless cloaks of
dark red stripes and their hoods are cov
ered with long shawls of linen beautifully
embroidered. Just above her forehead
each girl carries her cowery in tlio shape
of a wreath-like stripof silver coins which
stand on end fastened to a string, and
crown the forehead with money. Somo
of the girls have several rows of these
coins and some have crowns of gold. Not
a few have coins of silver and ghld the
SINGLE COPY 5C
size of our S2O gold pieces hung 'to
strings about their necks, and none of
the women hide their pretty faces, as do
those Mohammedan girls near by, who,
in shapeless wli’te gowns with flowery
white and red veils covering tiie whole of
their faces, look like girls playing ghosts
in white sheets. Beside these are Rus
sian gills in the peasant costumes of
modern Europe and Jewish maidens in
gowns and flowered shawls. There are
Greek priests, with high, black caps, and
monks of all kinds, such as you see under
tiie black cowls of Europe. The Syrian,
tlio Turk, the Bedouin, tiie African, tlio
Arminian and the Greek, are ail in that
crowd below me, and among them all is
the form of the übiquitous American
traveler, who, in pith helmet hat and'
green sun umbrella, has conquered tho
East as well as tlio West.
A PRETTY FAIR SHOT.
He killed the noble Umlj akiwis
With the skin he made him mittens
Made them with the fur side inside,
Made them with the skin side outside,
* He, to p;et the warm side inside,
Tut the inside skin side outs’de.
He, to get the cold side outside.
Put the warm indde fur inside,
That’s whyiJhe put the fur side iuside.
Why he put the skin side outside.
Why he turned them inside outside.
—lmitation of Hiawatha.
A Kansas Quail Hunt-
Seven years ago a friend called on me
ono bright, frosty December morning.
He had his dog and gun witli him. He
wanted to hunt a distant field where
quails were plentiful. I told him that my
ground was the best in the country, and
I declined to go seven miles ‘to shoot
over strange ground.’ We decided to
hunt a low lying creek ootforo, on which
phim bushes grew, and which was ohw
j ( lcl. cornfield;,. My friend had urgei
. fpjsy birds. *
“Sam,” 1 saia, “wSieu. lb. £ Jirui ;ire
killed we will stop shooting.”
“Forty grandmothers,” he remarked.
“I mean it,” I said. “We will get
them before we get through this plum
patch,” which was about a quarter of a
mile long, and which lined both banks
of the creek. I crossed the creek, called
my eager dog back, pulled her ear, and
said, “Go ahead, and go slow.” She
worked steadily at a slow trot. Suddenly
she turned and stood with twisted head
and uplifted foot and horizontal tail,
gazing into a dense clump of bushes. 1
whistled warningly to my friend, aud
then flushed the birds, and missed with
both barrels. The covey was exceedingly
large. The birds flew into an open space
of an acre, where the grass was about a
foot high, aud there scattered widely.
About the same time my friend’s doS, a
headstrong, stupid pointer, flushed a
covey, and they crossed the creek and
settled in the grass,scattering widely also.
I beckoned him. lie crossed tho creek,
and wished to advance at once to tlio
“Sam,” I said,” you need forty birds.
I don’t liko to say anything against your
dog. He is tiie best prairie chicken dog
I ever saw, but he’s a lunkhead on quails.
Let Queen beat this grass lor us and we
will get tho forty birds.”
My friend was indignant. But I coaxed
him into tying his dog to a plum bush.
We walked slowly to tiie grass. There
I took Queen’s soft ear in my hand,
pinched it slightly, and said: “Be care
ful; go slow,” aud I cuffed her gently.
Tiie intelligent dog began to boat the
ground. My frieml shot to tlio right and
Ito tho left. What a hunt that was!
The dog worked slowly aud beautifully.
The birds lay to her well. Her face
glowed with pleasure. The shooting was
sufficiently brisk to keep tho guns warm.
Tho lunkhead pointor howled his. disap
proval. We shot tho grass patch over in
twenty-live minutes. Each marked down
his dead birds as well as he could, and
kept account of the number. The last
bird up aud killed, I turned to my friend,
and with an inquiring lift of my eyo
“I have twenty-seven do mi,” he re
“Aud i have twenty-three,” I said.
The two dogs, ouvious of each other,
worked as nailers are alleged to work,
and brought in bird after bird until forty
three quails were in our bags. The other
seven wore probably winged, aud escaped
by long and fast running. I never had
but one more onjoyablo hunt than that,
—Frank Wilkeson in New York Sun.