Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

• r ' r ' } ' * VOL. 12--NO. 35. RELIGIOUS THOUGHT. 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 pigmy. 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 ments. 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 strengthens it. 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 manity. 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. Mjnufacturer’s Record. 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 Rural. •. TIIE OFFICIAL?. ‘ GAN OF THE GEORGIA STATE ALLIANCE. ATLANTA, GEORGIA, FRIDAY MORNING, NOVEMBER 29, 1880. PLUNKETT’S STOPt^ “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 rumed : “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 night. “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 the fashion. “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: “ ‘Mary?’ “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 bed: “’Mary?’ “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 ’lowed: “ ‘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 southern Cultivator. 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 succeed himself. “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 ern states.” “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 my record.” “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 sport. “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 browssaid: “Well?” “I have twenty-seven do mi,” he re plied. “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.