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A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c. Vol. XII. WEDNESDAY MORNING, FEBRUARY 9, 1876. No. 6. THE HERALD IS PUBLISHED EVERY WEDNESDAY MOrMNING, At Newberry, S. C. BY THOSt F, GRENEKERt Editor and Proprietor. Terms, $2.5o per einnurn, Invariably in Advance. 3.7 The paper is stopped at the expiration of t ime for which it is paid. 02 The >4 mark denotes expiration of sub rcription. TO-DAY. BY JON BOYLE O'1$REILLY. Only from day to day, The life of a wise man runs. What matter if seasons far away Have gloom or have doable snns? We climb the unreal path, And stray.frorn the roadway here, We swim the rivers of wratb, And tunnel the hills of fear. Our feet on the torrents brink, Our eyes on the clouds afar; We fear the thing-, we think, -Instead of the things that are. Like a tide our work should rise, Each later wave the best. "To-day is a king in disguise," To-day is the special test. Like a sawyer's work is Life; The present makes the flaw; * And the only field for a strife Is the inch before the saw. Farmebrill'stMe Pleaure T1%I -Aft I - 1 VO she at once addressed him did n< so much surprise as shame t1i farmer. "It was not well of. thee, Frien Brill, to deny with harsh words tb request of a eild. Thy trees ar laden with fruit and the groun is covered with thy unused abut dance. Thee might have giventh child one little apple." The woman stood with he calm, ac3usincg eyes fixed on th farmer'sface; they seemed to pen< trate his soul and to read his ver; thoughts. "No, it was not well of the< Friend Brill," she repeated. "I hate begging," answered th farmer, rallying himself. "That was no common beggin and thee knows it," replied tb stranger. "The child's father should hav had fruit on his own trees. Bu he was too idle to plant them an now his children go begging o his neighbors." "That is not his children's fauli If the poor little ones are hungr: for apples and thee has more thai thee can use why shall thee not b< a better father in regard for then than he who is of their own flesi and blood ? Would thee not givi thy own children apples ?" "Mly own children ! That ij another thing. I have taken cari f my own children." "The earth is the Lord's and thi Fullness thereof, and we are al His children," auswered the litth woman. "He gives in charge t ome His broad grain fields an< rruitful orchards that they n& ill barns and storehouses, and la3 up food for the hungry and see< for the sower, .so that His peopl lie not for lack of bread. Doe. hee think that thy trees bea Cruit and thy fields give their har veste for thee alone ? If thei does, thee has not understood th< ways of God with men." The farmer did not reply. H was dumb in the presence of th' stranger; dumb because of sudder onvictions and a new Ii g h breaking into his soul that blindet and bewildered him. "Thee has thought and carei nly for thyself and for thy owi ntil no w," said his visitor, "bul there. is a truer and a better lif< before thee. Thee must grov broader and more generous. The< rust become a giver instead o. nly a receiver of good things. Thee must learn the meaning o: tat wise saving: 'To give is t< ive.' Will thee not go wit! me ?" And the little woman turnet from the porch, Farmer Brill ris ing and following her. "Thee must bring a basket o apples with thee," said the womiau pausing at the gate. The farmer filled a great baske and took it on his arm. "It is so kind of you, sir !" sai< the weary looking woman i: whose poor little home he se down the basket. And her grate ful looks an d tones sent to hi heart a feeling of warmth an: pleasure, purer and deeper than h had known for a long; long time "Thee understands, now," sai his companion, as they left th ottage, "what a true, sweet lif thee may live if thee will. Go has given thee of. his earthla bounties more than a hundred fol beyond thy needs, and leisure t care for thy neighbors, and healt in thy declining years. And ye thee is not happy. Why ? The is still trying to live for thyse] alone." The words of tbe speaker die on Farmer Brill's ears; and at tb same instant another voice rouse him to another presence. It wa that of his wife. "How sound asleep you were Andrew ! I don't like to have yo sleep so heavily in the daytime it isn't good." The farmer started up with bewildered air.. - "Why, Andrew ! What a ii you ? What have you been dream ing about?" "O)h! It was a dream ! Yes, see. - .Dreams are strange things. A nd the farmer settled himse back in his arm chair and droppe nis chin upon his bosom, not t it awake now, but to ponder on e what he had heard from the lips of the monitor, who had come d to him in a vision. e As his wife went back into the e house Farmer Brill heard the d sound of a horse's feet in the road, i- and looking up saw one of his e neighbors a little way off. It was now five years since he had denied r some trifling favor to this man, e and there had been coldness be - tween them ever since. At sight 7 of him the farmer had an uncom fortable feeling, and dropped his , eyes, intending not to see him. But this only made him feel the e more uncomfortable. So, with a self-compelling effort, he rose from Y his seat and, walking out through a the gate that opened upon the road, met his neighbor, saying in a as cordial a tone as he could intro t duce into his voice: "Good morn I ing, Mr. Holden." f "Good morning, Mr. Brill," re turned the neighbor, a little Eur . prised at his unusual friendliness. r He drew up his horse, and lean i ing down took the farmer's offered haud. "How is Mrs. Holden ?" "Well, thank you! And how is Mrs. Brill ?" "Hearty for one of her years." i "And your own health ?" a "Can't complain. A little stiff with rheumatism sometimes, but i I suppose I ought to be thankful 1 that my limbs are not all twisted out of sb'ape like poor John Gard ner's. By the way, how is Gard I ner?" "Very badly off," replied the neighbor, with pity in his voice I "Has not been able to do a day's work these two months." "Is that so ? Poor fellow 1" Farmer Brill dropped his eye to - the ground and stood~ thinking. 3 And then the words he had heard in his dream began repeating themselves in his thoughts: j "He gives to some his broad ajgrain fields and fruitful orchards, that they may fill barns and store b ouises and lay up food for the Ihungry and seed for the sower, that His people die not for lack Iof bread. God has given thee of His earthly bounties more than -a hundred-fold beyond thy o wn Sneed, and leisure to care for thy rneighbors, and health in thy de clining years. And yet thee is not happy, for thee is still trying - to live for thyself alone." F "How does he live ?" asked the > farmer, raising his eyes from the ground, and looking up into his neighbor's face. I "His family would have suffer .ed in many ways and his chil dren gone often hungry to bed if F some of us had not looked after "I had no idea it was so bad," t said the farmer. "Hungry chil dren ! I can't stand that. I must I go and see him." "I wish you would. It's a real t case of charity." . "I'll go right off," said the far s mer turning away and going back I into the house. a "I wonder what's come over .the old man ?" So the neighbor I mused as he rode away. "Hope a he is not going to die. I always s thought he had a tender place I somewhere in his heart if one ronly knew where to find it. He I was a right generous sort of a fel o low when a young man but he was a thrifty, and thrift seemed to har t den him." e Half an hour afterwards Farmer f Brill drove off in his light wagon. There was a marvelous change in Sthe expression of his fine old face. e His eyes had a new lustre in them, Sand the kindlier' temper of his s blood was softening and warming all the hard lines that had compres >sed themselves about his mouth and cut down rigidly between his -brows, giving them a nobler and deeper human sentiment. In his Swagon was abag of flour, a bush el of potatoes, a side of bacon and s twenty pounds of salt pork, be - sides corn meal and apples. When Farmer Brill returned [ his heart was so light that it gave 'a new buoyancy to his body, and f instead of moping about or sitting I balf-stupidJly in his arm chair he a went bustling in and out in a a cheery way. and talked to his wife about this neighbor and that with a kindly interest altogether new. "It is more blessed to give some times, than receive," said Mrs. Brill to her husband. as be told ber, with a new quality of pleas ure in his voice, about his visit to Mr. Gardner and his family. "It may be always," he answer ed, to her surprise. "It must be," he added, after a hesitating pause, "if our Savior's words are true, for he puts in no qualifying 'sometimes.' -The old man sat very still, with a sober, inlooking expression on his face. "He knew best, Andrew; but very few of us live as if we thought He did." The farmer's sleep was not so sound that night as usual; thought was too busy. Not that he was troubled, for the pleasure that came with ministering to his stricken neighbor had gone too. deep and filled his heart too large ly to leave room for trouble. He was thinking out of himself-a rare experience for. Farmer Brill; thinking of some of his neighbors, and how he might serve them at lIttl'e cost to bis hoarded substance. It was too early in the new state upon which be had reaily enter ed to count much costagainst him self. The farmer rose on the next morning feeling like a new man. The rest and comfort of mind which had come as the reward of kindness to John Gardner still remained. Good-will to others is rarely satisfied with a single ser vice. It was so in this case. The family of his sick and helpless neighbor had other needs than that of food. He had seen the half-clad children and the wife's worn and scanty clothing, and the picture remained with him. "Can't you send Mrs. Gardner an old dress or two ?" said Mr. Brill to his wife as they sat at the breakfast table. "She needs them badly. If you'll make up a bundle of things for her and the clildren i'll hitch up and take them over. -You'll kno w what they want." Mrs. Brill was not the woman to say "No" to a suggestion like this. She soon had a bundle of clothing ready for her husband, and off he went again on his errand of mercy with a glee and warmth in his bosom that sent a feeling of de light along every nerve. How cordial were all the greetings he gave to passing neighbors! He forgot old grudges and coldnesses, and drew up his horse more than once to have a chat with the indi viduals whom he had passed the day before with only an indifferent nod. He sat for over an hour with John Gardner, talking about old times-both had grown up in the neighborhood-and learne<d many things he might b-ave learn ed before that interested him deep ly about the life of the poor man, and that aroused his sympathies. "Don't get down-hearted," were the parting words at the close of his visit. "We'll see that you are taken care of until the doctor drives out your old malady." The grateful looks and tones in which the man expressed his thbankfulness lived with the farmer as pleasant memories long after ward. "Thomas," said Mr. Brill to his hired man, on returning home, "take a bushel-basket out into the orchard and fill it with the largest and soundest apples that have fall en from the trees." "Yes, sir, and what shall I do with them." "Bring them here and I'll tell you."~ "Here they are, sir," said the hired man, ten minutes after ward. "Very weli. Now carry them down to Widow Sloan, and give her my compliments, and say to her that if she wishes to pare and dry a lot for winter she can have as many as she wants." Thomas opened his eyes a little wider than usual, and with a "Thank'ee sir," as if he were the one who had received a favor, swung the basket to his shoulder and went off with a springy step, in marked contrast with his ordi nar stow havy movement. The unexpected promptness and cheerfulness with which his hired man seconded this thoughtful kindness toward the widow was I another element of satisfaction. Thomas was apt to be a little cross at-times, and especially when call ed upon for some unusual service; and Mr. Brill had looked for a cloudy face and a sullen manner when he gave his order. He gaz ed after the man as he went hur rying away, wondering at his changed demeanor. He was still sitting in the porch when Thomas returned. "Well, Thomas, and what did Mrs. Sloan say ?" "Oh, sir, I can't tell you how surprised and happy she was; and she told me to thank you a thous and times." "Will she pare and dry them for wintex ?" "Indeed and she will, sir, she 1 aat right down and went to work while I was there, and says she'll i have'em all out on the shed drying I to-morrow morning. It was real I kind and thoughtful in you, sir. It's such a pity to have things go i to waste, when so many would . be glad to get them." Master and man were busier than usual in the'summer and au tumn days that followed, not alone in gathering and storing of their abundance, but in gathering and dispensing as well. Nothing was permitted, as in other years, to go to waste. The bushels and bushels of apples whiel- bad once rotted un der the trees; the over-supply of turnips and other root crops which had lain unused in cellar or store house were all distributed to the I poor ;Vand there was p Ie n t y throagh the winter in many an humble home where in former seasons pinching need had been felt. There was a heartiness about him never seen before. His old grudging against some of his neigh bors died out. Hie wouldstop men in the road for a pleasant chat whom for years he had passed with a tant nod. The farmer had founu a new pleasure, the joy of which was pervading his whole being and its sunshine warming and softening the cold, hard exterior of his life and making it attractive and beautiful. And he never lost the glow of this pleasure in all the years that were added to his life ; and when at last his work was done and he lay in that deep sleep which has no waking in time, there were hundreds to bless his name and to look their last look on his peaceful face with eyes that ran over with tears. BOSTON BROWN BREAD.-NOt far out in the suburbs of Boston is an ancient burying place, wherein are head stones that afford food for the antiquarian mind, which are zealously guarded by a faith ful sexton. Recently this custodi an missed one of the earliest dated of the mortuary memorials, and he put all his wits to work to discover its whereabouts, for some time withoutsuccess. One Sunday morning he went to his baker's for the customary Sunday breakfast of brown bread and beans. In serving the repast, his eyes fell upon something unusual on the under face of the loaf--"Here lies ye"-in reverse order, which, af ter some study, he succeeded in deciphering. No breakfast passed the sexton's lips until the cause of this strange impress was solved. He hastened to the baker's for a solution. The bake house adjoin ed the cemetery. The floor of the baker's oven had given 'out, and the break had been covered with the ancient gravestone, which, happily for the sexton's peace of mind, was uninjured by the heat to which it had been subjected. Our Dan remarked to his wife one evening, as he left home for the office: "I'll be back by ten o'clock if I don't meet with any serious pull-back." ''I t won't be well for you to meet any pull. backs, Daniel, serious or smiling, if I know of it," said his better half, in tones whi,ch indicated that she meant it. [From the Lutheran Visitor.] WORLDLY PLEASURE. NUMBER I. kMUbEMENTS, WEALTH, FASHIONS, ETC. The advocates of worldly pleas ire have often quoted, to encour tge th.-mselves in their opinions tnd practices, these well known ines of Dr. Watts: "Religion never was designed To make our pleasures less." This shows how error and harm .an be started and sustained by is )lated quotations. To rescue the good Dr. Watts rom so unfair an interpretation of is meaning, I present the unalter ,d hymn from which these violat )d lines have been torn; and consid )r it unnecessary to make-any com nents, except what is indicated by ,he italics, with which I empha ize some words and lines. In an ,dition of Dr. Watts' "Hymns Lnd Spiritual Songs," publ shed in 818 now lying before me-this iymn is entitled "Heavenly joy >n earth," and contains ten stan ,as: 'Come we that love the Lord, And let our joys be known; Foin in a song with sweet accord, And thus surround the throne. 'The sorrows of the mind Be banishedfrom the place, leligion never was designed To make our pleasures less. 'Let those refuse to sing That never knew our God, 3utfav'rites of the heavenly king May speak their joys abroad. 'The God that rules on high, And thunders when he please, [bat rides upon ihe s6rmysky, And manages the seas: 'This awful God is ours, Our Father and our love, le shall send down his heavenly pow ers. To carry us above. 'There shall we see his face And never, never sin ; here,from the rivers of his grace, .Drink endless pleasures in. 'Yes,-and before we rise To that immortal state the thoughts of such amazing bliss Should constant joys create. 'The men of grace have found' Glory begun below, ~elestial fruits, on earthly ground, From faith and hope made grow. 'The hill of Sion yields A thousand sacred sweets, Before we reach the heavenly felds Or walk the golden streets. 'Then let our songs abound, And every tear,be'dry, We're marching through Immanuel's ground To fairer world's on high." Addressing myself only to those who believe the Bible-the whole Bible-to be- divinely true, and, as avowed followers of Jesus Christ, rcept it as.the rule for Christian behavior, I assert that the Chris Gian Religion ai as certainly design ad to make our worldly pleasures ess, and, furthermore, by progres sive correction to utterly destroy them. 1 have never seen any pas sage of Scripture granting per. mission to participate in them: ay. with very lit'.,e search, I have fund within the Sacred Book pro. bibitions and denunciations against such participation, sufficient to fill a volume of ordinary size. We bave only to turn over the leaves >f the Bible somewhat slowly to Fnd abundantly such passages as he following. Beginning with ob: "They take the timbrel and the Larp, and rejoice at the sound of he organ. They spend their days an wealth and in a moment go own to the grave. Therefore they ay unto God, Depart from us ; for we desire not ~the knowledge of hy ways."-chap. xxi. 12-14. Passing over the Psalms, for :he present we find in Proverbs: "There is a way ia hich seemeth 'ight unto a man,but the end there >f are the ways of death. Even ae laughter of the heart is sorrow Eul: and the end of that mirth is eaviness."-chap. xiv. 12, 13. "He that loveth pleasure shall be a poor man;: he that loveth wine and oil shall not be rich."-chap. xxi. 17. Ecclesiastes is rich in warnings, which come to us through inspi ration supported by experience: "I said in my heart, Go to now, I will prove thee with mirth, therefore enjoy pleasure: and be hold, this also is vanity. I said of laughter, It is mad: and of mirth, What doeth it? I sought in my heart to give myself unto wine, yet acquainting mine heart with wisdom; and to lay hold on folly, till I might see what was that good for the sons of men, which they should do under the heaven all the days of their life. I made me great works, I builded me houses; I planted me vineyards; I made me gardens and orchards, and I planted trees in them of all kind of fruits: I made me pools of water, to water therewith the wood'that bringeth forth trees: I got me servants and maidens, and had servants born in my house; also I had great possession of great and small cattle above all that were in Jerusalem before me; I gathered me also silver and gold, and the peculiar treasure of kings and the provinces: I gat me men singers and women.singers, and the delights of the sons of men, as musical instruments, and that of all sorts. So I was great, and increased more than all that were before rme in Jerusalem; also my wisdom remained with me. And whatsoever mine eyes desired I kept not from them, I withheld nt mine heart from any joy; for my heart rejoiced in all my la bor; and this was my portion of all my labor. Then I looked upon all the works that my hands had wrought, and all the labor that I had labored to do; and behold, all was vanity and vexation of spirit, and there was no profit iidiTrte sun. "-chap. ii. 1-11. "It is better to go to the house of mourning t h a n to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart. Sorrow is bett.et than laughter: for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made bet ter. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth."-chap. vii. 2-4. "Rejoice, 0 young man, in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes; but know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee to judgment."-chap. xi. 9. Not to make my list of extracts too long, (for knowing how little atten tion is paid to reforences, I make full quotations of most of my authoirties,) I pass over the many familiar and awful denunciations contained in the prophets against indulgence in worldly delight. I only request those concerned -those who take pleasure in "changeable suits of apparel," ac cording to the continually shifting fashion-plates of the present day -to read the latter part of the 3rd chapter of Isaiah, beginning with the 16th verse ; and to remember, that whatever God looked upon as sin once, He looks upon it now, and will forever look upon it as sin, and punish it. The curse that overwhelmed the daughters of Zi on in the faded past, wi-ll, without repentance and reformation, sure ly overtake t.hem in the fresh fu ture, on account of the same infat uations that still harden them into defiance, and cause them to say in their hearts: "Let him make speed, and has ten his work, that we may see it; and let the counsel of the Holy Onoof Israel draw nigh and come, that we may know it."-saiah v. 19. The first passage in St. Mat thew that arrests the attention, bearing upon my subject, is a re markable one. It establishes the uncompromising separation of the world and its fascinations, from the "walk and conversation" that must follow the public confession of Christ. It- swings the sword between the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, on the one side; and the world, the flesh, and the Devil, on the other. It is worthy of prolonged meditation: ADVERTISINC RATES, Advertisements inserted at the rawe oft$1 .00 per square-one Inch-for first insertion, and 75c. for each subsequent insertion, Double column advertisements ten per cent on above. Notices of meetings, obitmfi!ies and txibt tel of respect, same rates per square as ordinary advertisements. Special notices in local column 15 cerns Perline, Advertisements not madked with the uum ber of Insertions wiltbe kept In till forbid and charged accordingly. Special contmacts made with large adver t1sers, with lieal deductdom on above rates JOR. ftavr,ive Donle with Neatness and DIsIntch * Terms Cash. "No man can serve two.masters for either he will hate the one and love the other; or else he will hold to the one and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and maam mon."-Xatt. vi. 24. In the 24th chapter of this Evan gelist there is a prophecy, which, considering the "superfluity of naughtiness" that is now bewil dering the world, ought surely to. terrify mankind. But,. -perhaps, there are few who believe in the coming of Christ. The boasting, - sneering cry is heard everywhere, even in the church: "Where is the - promise of his coming? For since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation." Now this is the prophecy made by Je sus Christ himself: "But of -that day and hour knoweth no man; no, not the an gels in heaven, but my Father on ly. But as the days of Noe were, so shall also the coming Of the Son of Man be. For as in the