Newspaper Page Text
IJoetrj.
RESIGNATION.
Let every murmur on my lip be still, [care ;
teach me, Lord, Thy will to nurse with
’Tie ever best, and can not work my ill,
Though oit it hath a pang fall hard to bear.
Since not for me the path without a thorn,
Where only dewy flowers and sunbeams lie,
I would not iear the blast, by Thee upborne,
But calmly wait the brightening ol the sky.
E’en though my will the rosy path had found,
Ah ! then Thy pilgrim’s fate, Lord, might
have been
An end less death a’ong that t<-eachorou ; ground.
That bides its snares beneath the flo every green
No will beside Thine own, Lord would I crave;
It loves my weal, tboug 1 sweets may be re
pressed ;
And marks that only path acro-e the wave
That safe can lead me to the land of rest.
The dark, mysterious tempest there may blow,
Which often dims the weary pilgrim’s sight;
Yet who would choose Thy teaching to forego.
And lose the meetness for the realms of light ?
As lightnings purge the thickly tainted air,
Leaving no tracs of aught unclean behird,
So may life’s seeming ills the soul leave fair,
Reflecting full the Savioui’s lowly mind.
He who so meekly suffered in our r om, •
Hath taught us how to tread the rugged path;
And for the joys in store beyond the gloom,
Despised me shame and bore the tempest’s
wrath.
“To do Thy will, my GA, I take delight;”
Our hearts must beat responsive to that strain,
And trust, that, in the b ack and stormy night,
Thou wi.t not leave us sinking on the main.
When onco Thy will, O Lord, us homo shall
call,
And heavenly glories o’er cur senses steal,
One glinip e I ween, shall compensate for all
The pains and sorrows that a heart can feel.
Christian treasury.
HI HUM
Jamthi ‘tktbmg.
THE FALSE CHRIST.
A. TALE OF THE SECOND FALL OF JERUSALEM.
CHAPTER VI.
It was their family custom to road a por
tion of the Hebrew Scriptures morning and
evening. To day they had read the 22d
psalm.
“What does that mean, father?” Ach
sah asked. “Did David suffer all that?”
“It is very dark, child ! arid the rabbis,
I believe, think it all figurative.”
“But what do the figures mean ?” said
Achsah “They are so minute.’’
“The wise men differ,” he replied. “The
Scriptures ire a deep well, child, and with
out the golden pitcher of the holy tradi
tions, vulgar hands can draw little from
them.”
“But father, were they not meant for the
people ? I do think God speaks more plain
ly than the rabbis. You taught us once
that we should bind them about our hearts
—that when we go they may lead us, and
when we wake they may talk with us.”
lie had many a maxim which would have
silenced her; but this evening there seemed
a seriousness about the child which melted
the hard crust of those conventionalisms
away, and he only said —
“We will read together, Achsah.”
Through ail the vicissitudes of his life,
and amidst all his sacrifices, Eleazar had
kept one treasure inviolate —aclcurund per
fect manuscript of the Hebrew Scriptures ;
and many a ray of light had they thrown on
his path, and many a hope had they shed
on the burdensome ritual which he conscien
tiously labored to fulfil.
On the next day Achsah came, in the
first pause of her household work, to claim
her father’s promise. Her object now wa<
definite, —to search those sacred books for
every trace of an intimation by which she
might know if this Barcechebah was, indeed
the true consolation of Israel. The object
gave to these readings an intensity ot in
terest which even Eleazar had never felt in
them before. Scattered points of the sun
beam of promise bad, indeed, at times,
pierced through the veil which hid from
him the sun; but, for the most part, his
readings of the law had been gone through
like the ablutions and other ceremonies
prescribed, from a sense of duty rather than
from a hope of blessing.
Now it was different. These were the
very words of the lord, —the title-deeds
and seal of Israel’s inheritance, —and eager
ly did the old man and his daughter watch
for every word which should indicate a cor
respondence between the seal and that
which claimed to be the impression.
Hitherto Eleazar had received the dictum
of the rabbis of the famous school of Tibe
rias as the revelation of God. “Was not
the Rabbi Akiba, the head of the school,
a secood Moses, the thousandth part of
whose wonderful sayings the world could
not contain ?” But the childlike simplici
ty of his Achsah found a response in the
honest and guileless heart of the old man,
embittered by his vain endeavors not to
perceive the selfishness and hollowness
which characterised most of his fellow
workers in the cause to him so sacred ; and
the two read on together, —the child with a
happy confidence that G-od must have given
directions to find, and not to perplex,—the
old man with loss hope, because of his deep
er sense of the guilt around and within
him.
Those were happy noons, when the mid
day meal was over, and Shelomith watched
in the heat over Benoni’s mid-day sleep,
and the father and the daughter took the
the precious rolls to the shade of the tere
binth tree, by the well Not that they saw
much light; now and then there seemed to
be a gleam—a vision of a glorious One to
■come —of sins to be buried and forgotten,
and days of mourning to be ended for ever,
and a reign of righteousness and
peace. But quickly the shadow fell again
over the bright picture and judgment and
suffering seemed mixed up so inextricably
with the glory and the blessing, that Ach
sah’s hope grew fainter as they proceeded;
nevertheless they could not abandon the
study.
“It seems/’ said the child, one day, “as
if we were always going to find something,
and as if the door were always on the point
of opening ”
One morning as her eyes followed his
hand along the page she said—
“ See bow God loved our people ! ‘He
found him in the desert land—in the waste
howling wilderness. He led him about;
He instructed him; He kept him as the
ajTpleofHis eye. As an eagle stirreth up
her nest —fluttereth over her youDg —spread-
eth abroad her wings—taketh them—bear
eth them on her wings—so the Lord alone
did lead him.’ Oh, father,it is like my
mother and Benoni. He must lead us; He
cannot forsake us.’’
Eleazar repeated, as if to himself—
“But Zion said, the Lord hath forsaken
me, and my Lord hath forgotten me. Can
a woman forget her sucking child, that she
should not. have compassion on the son of
hex' womb ? Yea, they may forget, yet will
I not forget thee. Behold I hare graven
thee on the palms of my hands !”
. And that intense patriotism which God
himself bound up with the religion of the
Jew, and.to which exile had given the tend
erness of a passion, fed by the sacrifices
and labors of a lifetime, gave the fulness of
youth to the old man’s voice. Then as he
looked up and saw the glow’ of inspiration
which lighted up the dark eyes and fine
features of his child, he exclatned—“lf
thou hadst only lived in the days of Israel’s
glory !” She smiled. “Are they not yet
to begin ?” But her smile had caught
something of the melancholy of his.
Another time she would say —“Oh, listen,
this must be Him!” and the words came
from her lips like a song. “ ‘He shall
judge the poor of the people; He shall save
the childi’en of the needy ; and shall break
in pieces the oppressor. Yea, all kings
shall fall down before Him; all nations
shall serve Him. For He shall deliver the
needy when he crieth : the poor also, and
him that hath no helper.’’ ’
“Yes, he replied, “this must be God’s
King, ruling with resistless power, but not
lor Himself!”
And again her eye lighted on a mark
that could not be mistaken. “ ‘Behold my
servant, whom I uphold; mine elect in
whom my soul delighteth. I have put my
spirit upon him ; he shall bring forth judg
ment to the Gentiles.’ What does that
mean, father ? Is the King of Israel to be
the King of the world; and are all to share
the blessings ?’’
“It was certainly so promised to Abra
ham,” he replied.
- “But see,” she continued, “can this be
the same?—‘He shall not cry, nor lift up,
nor cause his voice to be heard in the street.
A bruised l'ced shall he not break, and the
smoking flax shall he not quench.’ So
great, and jet so gentle ! Can this be the
same? Such a King; and j’et one, of whom
the poorest and feeblest would not be
afraid !”
“It seems the same/’ be said.
And again another day, she said—“ Did
■you not say the origin of Barcochebah is in
volved in obscurity ?”
“Yes,” lie said, repeating a current opin
ion; “when Christ cometh, no man knuweth
whence He cometh.”
“Yet, look here,” she said—“ ‘Thou
Bethlehem Ephratah, out of thee shall He
come forth unto me that is to rule lliy
people Israel.’ Was not that said after
David’s time?’’
“It was,” he replied, and became involved
in reverie.
“Then, father/’ she 6aid emphatically,
“He must he to come ! And, again, “she
said pointing further on, “ ‘My servant
shall deal prudently :he shall be exalted
and extolled, and be very high.’ But then,”
she continued, “who can this be—‘Despis
ed and rejected, wounded, bruised? All
we like sheep have gone astray. And the
Lord hath laid on Him the iniquity ot us
all. He was cut off out of the land of the
living’ He dies, father, that cannot be
the Messiah? Yet see —‘Thou shalt make
his s xul an offering for sin.’ Were nut the
sin-offerings slain, father?”
“They were,” he replied.
“And sec/’ she resumed, with a tremb
ling voice, “here is victory !—‘He shall see
of the travail of His soul, anjl shall be sat
isfied. By His knowledge shall my right
eous servant justify many; for He shall bear
their iniquities.’ A despised, rejected,
Messiah—a sin-offering —the righteous ser
vant of God—dying, yet triumphing!—fa
ther ! father 1” she exclaimed, “who can this
be ?”
Eleazar made no reply. She looked up
and caught his eye. Her face flushed
crimson in a moment, and her lips parted
for another question ; but the awe-stricken
expression of his face silenced her. And
that day they separated without another
word. On the morrow Eleazar was sum
moned to the camp, ou business of the high
est importance, and for the time they read
no more together.
One morning, during Eleazar’s absence,
Lucia had wandered with Irene and her
child, guarded by two or three slaves, to the
old well on the hill, wishing to see the Jew
ish maiden again.
The well was closed, and no one sate on
it. But in the vine terraces below, she re
cognised Acbsah’s form, toiling with her
mother in the sun. She drew near, and
asked for a drink of goat’s milk. Shelomith
paused in her work ; and Achsah recognis
ing Lucia, said a few words to'her mother,
SOUTHERN CHRISTIAN ADVOCATE.
who courteously invited the stranger into
her house. Lucia caressed Sbelomith’s
child, and Shelomith took little lanthe on
her kuee, and a mutual understanding was
begun. Achsah withdrew to gather some
grapes.
“More changes have happened to me,’’
said Lucia to Shelomith, “than you can see.
I have learned to know and love your Mes
siah.’’
Shelomith turned pale —“Are you look
ing for the deliverance of our nation ?”
“I believe your Messiah has come,” she
said.
“Bar-cochebah—the star of Jacob ?”
“Jesus, the Son of God.”
“The Nazarene!’ exclaimed Shelomith
looking round and breathing deep. “It is
well my husband and Azor are not here.”
Lucia rose, and her face glowing with
feeling—“No longer the Nazarene,” she
said; “your Saviour, and our Saviour—the
Son of the Virgin, the Son of God. He
has borne our sins and now He has risen, He
is enthroned in heaven. He has had pity
from His glory on mj T babe and on me.’’
Then speaking softly, and gently taking
Shelomith’s hand—“ Surely you do not re
ject Him /’ she said. “He belongs doubly
to you. He was of your nation : He wept
for you, and your children, even when they
were leading Him to be crucified.”
Shelomith looked down and her face be
came very pale.
As they left the cottage, and were de
scending from terrace to terrace into the
valley, a soft hand was laid on Lucia’s
shoulder, and the Jewish mother whispered
in her ear—“ Have care of yourself and
your child; there are dangers and death
under your feet! Fly this land, for they
say it is no longer yours. Remember these
words, for, God forgive me, I cannot forget
yours.” And laying her finger on her lips,
Shelomith disappeared among the olives.
“What does it mean, Irene ?”
• “There shall be false Christs and false
prophets: wars, and rumors of wars: the
abomination of desolation standing where it
ought not; and then cometh the sign of
the Son of Man. The starry cross shall
flash from one end of heaven to the other,
heralding him.’’
“Do you think it is near?’’ asked Lucia,
shuddering as she thought of her husband
and her parentß.
“I know not,” was the reply. “It is al
ways drawing near; and we are told always
to watch.”
That evening, as the two families sate
together, Lucia related the warning she
received.
Nicias treated it lightly. “The Jews
are never deficient in confidence/’ he said.
“When their Temple was burning they
looked for their King in the flames !”
“But there is no boasting among them
now/’ said Cyril. “There has beeu a si
lence and a sullenness about them in the
city, for weeks past, which I have not liked.
I think the cru'st ufider our feet is thin, and
beneath is a sea of fire !”
“Our Emperor against the King of Israel
any day for me,” replied Nicias. “The
Roman army is within a day’s inarch.”
“But they are not here,” said Cyril.
“Nor are the Insurgents.”
“The Insurgents are everywhere,’’ was
the reply.
A slave brought a letter to Nicias. As
lie read it, his countenance changed sud
denly.
“By all the gods !” he exclaimed, “you
are right. The rebels have risen at once, at,
a hundred points. Forty fortresses have
fallen into their hands. The main body
with this new prophet at their head, is
marching on Jerusalem ! We must pre
pare for departure to-morrow; and he with
the imperial army the following: day. 5 ’
“Why not to-morrow ?’’ asked Cyril. “At
least let Lucia and the child leave to-mor
row ; we can follow.’’
“Why not to-night?’’ interposed Lucia.
“There is no such immediate danger,” he
answered, tenderly. “Cannot you trust
yourself to my care?’’
And returning to their home, they slept
in security, and awoke in peace.
tt'jjilknr.
THE CHERRIES.
Sabina, the daughter of rich parents, had
a nice little room fbr herself; but it had a
very untidy appearance inside. She never
cleaned it up, and ail the good advice of her
mother, that she should keep it in better or
der, was in vain.
One afternoon she had just finished dress
ing herself, and was about to go out, when
the daughter of their neighbor brought her
a basket full of fioe black cherries. As ta
bles and window-sill were already covered
with clothes and other things, Sabina set the
basket meanwhile on a chair, which was
covered over with blue silk stuff, and then
went out with her mother to walk to a neigh
boring village.
Late in the evening, when it was already
dark, she came back to her room very tired,
and immediately hastened to a seat. But
scarcely had she seated herself when she
jumped quickly up again, and uttered a
loud scream of terror. For she had seated
herself exactly in the middle of the basket,
which was piled up full of cherries. .
At her screams her mother immediately
hastened to her with a light. But what a
sight she saw ! The cherries were all crush
ed; the juice flowed on all sides over the
chair, and Sabina’s new white silk dress
was so entirely spoilt, that it was never fit
to be used again.
But besides this her mother gave her a
severe scolding, and said: “ You see now 1
how necessary it is to keep things in order,
and to give to each thing its proper place.
You are now punished for your disobedience
and your untidy habits; in future, remem
ber the saying:—
“ ‘ Neglect on Order to attend—
Disgrace and loss will be thy end.
What Young People Should Know.
The best inheritance which parents can
give their children is the ability to help and
take care of themselves. This is better than
a hundred thousand dollars apiece. In any
trouble or difficulty, they have two excellent
servants, in the shape of two hands. Those
who can do nothing, and have to be waited
upon, are helpless and easily disheartened
in the misfortunes of life. Those who are
active and £iardj r meet troubles with a cheer
ful face, and easily surmount them. Let
young people, therefore, learn to do as many
things as possible. Every boy should know
how, sooner or later—
1. To dress himself, black bis own boots,
cut his brother’s hair, wind a watch, sew on
a button, make a bed, and keep clothes in
order.
2. To harness a horse, grease a wagon,
and harness a team.
‘3. To carve and wait on table.
4 To milk the cows, shear the sheep,
and dress a veal or mutton.
5. To reckon money and keep accounts
correctly, and accoi’ding to good book-keep
ing rules.
0. To write a neat and appropriate, briefly
expressed business letter, in a good hand,
fold and superscribe it properly, and write
contracts.
7. To plow, sow grain and grass, drive a
mowing machine, build a neat stack, and
pitch hay.
8. To put up a package, build a fire, mend
broken tools, whitewash a wall, and regulate
a clock.
Every girl should know how :
1. To sew and knit.
2. To mend clothes neatly.
3. To make beds.
4. To dress her own hair.
5. To wash the dishes and sweep the
carpets.
6. To make good bread and perform all
plain cooking.
7. To keep her room, drawers and closets
in order.
S. To work a sewing machine.
9. To make good butter and cheese.
10. To make a dress and children’s cloth
ing.
11. To keep accounts and calculate inter
est.
12. To write, fold and superscribe letters
properly.
13. To nurse the sick effectually, and not
faint at the sight of blood.
14. To be ready to render efficient aid
and comfort to those in trouble, and in an
unostentatious way.
15. To receive and entertain visitors in
the absence or sickness of her mother.
A j-oung lady who can do all these things
well, and who is always ready to render aid
to the afflicted and mitigate the perplexities
ot those around her, will bring more com
fort to others and happiness to herself, and
be more esteemed, than if she knew how to
dance, simper, sing and play on the piano.
The mountain ard the squirrel
Had a quarrel;
A nd the farmer called the latter “ Little Frig. ”
Bun replied,
“ You are doubtless very big ;
But all str’s of things and weather,
Must.be taken in together,
To make up a year
And a sphere.
And I think it no disgrace
To occupy mv place.
If I’m nut so largo as you,
You are not so small as 1,
And nut half so spry.
Ihl not deny you mike
Avery pretty squ rrel track ;
Talents and ff r ; ail is well and wisely put;
If I can n t carry forests on my back,
Neither can you crack a nut. ”
Never Fret.— ‘Children, 1 have a capi
tal rule to give you about frettingand grum
bling—a very short rule, which it is worth
your while to recollect, if you want to culti
vate contentment. Never fret about tvhat
you can't help , because, if you can help it,
do so. When you are tempted to grumble
about anything, ask yourself, “ Can I help
this?” and ifj’ou can’t, don’t fret; but. if
you can, do so, and see how much better you
will feel.
Obiiuitni.
Rebecca L. Zant died in peace on the 20th
Dec., 1865, near Byromville, Dooly Cos., Gn., af
ter an illness of fifty-two days, in the 55th yeai
of her age.
Sister Z. joined the M. E. Church South, in
her twentieth year, and lived an acceptable
member until she entered the Church above.
During most of her sickness she was delirious*
but at one time she seemed to be much better.
Then her husband questioned her in reference
to her religious state, and her reply was, “I
have never, when able, failed to read a portion
of God’s Word every day, and to pray in se.
cret three times a day; and though I have
sometimes been troubled by doubts and fears,
I feel the love of God in my heart." On one oc
casion during her long and severe illness, her
husband remarked to a friend in her heating—,
“It seems that I am almost forsaken by God
and man!” She immediately replied, “No, no !
He has not foisaken you!” In death her serene
countenance betokened her triumph over the
“last enemy,” aad the happiness of her immor
tal soul in Heaven. W. S. Turner.
—'
Miss. Mary E. Zant was converted and joined
the M. E. Church, South, at Ebenezer Camp
ground, in Murray Cos., Ga., at the age of 13,
and was a consistent member to the day of her
death, Dec. sth, 1865. Her age was 20 years, 2
months and 24 days.
“Sister, friend, by Jesus freed,
Death, to thee, to us, is gain;
Thou art enter’d into joy,
Let the unbelievers mourn
We in songs our lives employ,
Till we all to God return.”
W. S. Turner.
Mrs. Ann Kennon died, suddenly, at the res
idence of her son-in-law, Col. Robt. H. Moore,
of Floyd Springs, Ga., on the 29th November
last, in the 75th year of her age.
In 1831 she professed religion and joined the
Methodist Church at Watkinsville, Ga. For
thirty-four years she was a consistent member
of the church, and an exemplar of the religion
of Christ—her religious life, unlike the glaring
meteor which gathers its own splendor as it flies
and expires in a blaze of glory, but like the gen
tle flow of a beautiful river, never chafing over
rocks, or leaping over precipices, but gliding
gracefully and quietly on, giving fertility to the
soil and luxuriance to the foliage in its course.
More than thirty years ago she lost her hus
band ; since which event she has lived with her
daughter, Mrs. Col. Moore. Thus unitedly they
lived together, bearing each other’s burdens,
sharing each other’s sorrows and joys, each
one attache, o the other, and both to tho Sa
vioui, until October last, Mrs. Moore crossed
over Jordan to meet her children and friends on
the other side. In the following month, Mrs.
Kennon followed her loved daughter. For four
short weeks they were separated on earth, as if
to make more joyous their reunion,
“On that bright and blissful shore,
Where comes no sorrow, falls no stain;
M here those who meet shall part no more,
And those long parted meet again.”
Henry.
Mrs. W. Giles, wife of Dr Robert Giles, and
sister of the late Mrs. Eliza T. Williams, of
Cokesbury, S. C., died in Anderson District, S.
C., in the 73d year of her age.
She joined the M. E. Church in 1828, after which
she confessed her Saviour in all her walk. Her
children can never forget her unexampled kind
ness and affection, and her truly Christian ex
ample. Her late servants will ever have cauße
to bless her memory. Her trials and afflictions
were very great through most of her life—more
so than often falls to tho lot of mortals. But
she was ever ready to forgive injuries, and to
do good, and to excuse those who had done her
wrong. \ ery few have ever come nearer obey
ing the injunction, “Love your enemies,” than
she did. She lost two sons duringjthelate war,
aud one son-in-law; also, within a few years,
four grown daughters. At the close of life, her
lamp was trimmed and burning. Her mind was
unusually strong and clear to the last. She was
asked by her beloved and only surviving sister,
Mrs. Turpin, a few moments before she died, if
she eould praise the Lord. She replied, “0,
yes! praise Him, praise Him, all Os you praise
Him!” and she repeated these words with her
expiring breath. o. B. R.
BURKE & CO’S
FARMER’S ALMANAC FOR 1866
rpHE UNDERSIGNED FAYE JUST
J Published THE FARMER’S ALMANAC, (Yr 1866
Price *3 per gross For lo gross or more, $2.60 per
gross. Dealers ordering 25 gross or more, can have
‘heir imprint and advertisement inserted without ex
tra charge.
Send in your orders at once to
„ , J. W. BURKE & CO.,
Second Street, next to Baptist Church, Macon, Ga.
NATIONAL SERIES.
School Boob! School Boob!!
JUST RECEIVED AND FOR SALE,
wholesale and retail:
NATIONAL PRIMER;
“ FIRST READER;
“ SECOND READER;
“ TIIIR READER;
“ FOURTH READER;
“ FIFTH READER;
Monteith’s FIRST LESSON IN GEOGRAPHY
“ INTROUCTORY to GEOGRAPhV;
“ ' MANUAL OF GEOGRAPHY;
Clarks FIRST LESSON IN ENGLISH GRAM
MAR;
Clark’s PRACTICAL GRAMMAR ;
Monteith’s HISTORY OF UNITED STATES;
and many other good Books,
janlfi J. W. BURKE & CO.
.MMrctmiimiiiit
By recent improvements, this
Label has been rendered Water-proof, and is
stronger than any other LABEL or TAG in the market.
Dennison’s Tags, for Express Companies’ use.
Dennison’s Tags, for Grocers’ use.
Dennison’s Tags, for Druggists’ use.
Dennison’s Tags, for Milliners’ use.
Dennison’s Tags, for Jewelers' use.
J*. -W~- BURKE Sc CO.
AGENTS FOR *
DENNISON’S PATENT DIRECTION
LABELS and TAGS.
lE7*Merchant’s sizes printed to order.
Photograph Albums.
A fresh supply at
J. W. BURKE k CO’S.
CiOLD PENS.
T W. BURKE & CO., HAVE THE
J' • largest and Finest Stock of GOLD PENS in the
No. 1, Small Pine Ladies’ Pen,
> Nos. 2 and 3, Medium « «
Nos. 4 and 5, Large n <<
Nos. 4 and 5, Small Gent’s «
Nos. 6, Medium t< it
Nos. 7 and 8, Large « u
These are all 14 carats fine and warranted for one year
inere are no Pens made, of superior quality.
Call and see them at
Jam 13—ts. £J. W. BURKE k CO'S.