The following text may have been generated by Optical Character Recognition, with varying degrees of accuracy. Reader beware!

JO ' r i ' * - . y ^V ' * r •* , * ' . U : ^„ ' ' r*T..v ~n h'** : ;:V : "•'^.'••:i*l hfh^"t,',"y^ ."•:*' "v jf, ( •• * > r, <« ¥|- Y ; / * • - - •* - Si®® ^ --•* 7» -' V-: : ~-*sMi -•<*- ~g; * * t - life ' COMMERCIAL MORA At a recent banquet given in Chicago tomembersof. the Comiberctal Club, of Batten, who mm on* visit to the former city, the Rev. Edward Sullivan was cfllea on to respond to the follow­ ing toast: " Commercial morality as important to on# material welfare as Christian morality is to our spiritual." In Responding, Mr. Sullivan spoke as follows: That Such a toast has been proposed *t all is a fact which reflects high hon- or on such a body of men as I am con­ fronted with to-night, and augurs well ior the commercial future of the coun­ try at large. It declares turn, this great feathering of representative merchants, rom boui East and West, are not ashamed to proclaim to the world that commerce has a moral no less than a social, or financial, or political, or in­ ternational aspect, and that only in proportion as a lofty standard of mor­ ality is maintained in mercantile inter- cotirsft, ean trade be said to rest on a sound and enduring basis. Would, sir, that this were a creed universally ac­ cepted! Unhappily it is not. Men are not altogether agreed as to the relation between commerce and morality, or the possibility of combining them in a per­ fect harmony. Sheridan, doubtless, thought himself an eminently moral man; but when his tailor dunned him to pay ait least the interest of his bill, he replied that it was not his principle to pay the interest, and not for his in­ terest to pay the principal; and not a few, probably, could be found in our "own day who would condone the dis­ honesty for the sake of the witticism Hmt. conveyed it. Not a few young men, standing with the foot timidly set on the first round of the ladder which so many before me have climbed both successfully and hon­ orably, have said to me that for busi­ ness men it was impossible to keep such s luxury as a conscience, alleging sub­ stantially of commercial life what was pnee said wittily, but of course falsely, Of the legal profession, that in it it was " hard to get on, harder to get honor, but hardest to get honest." And for soine natures, doubtless, it is hard. Strange if, within the vast range of mercantile life, many are not found too weak to resist the overwhelming power of temptation--when presenting itself Under the guise of rapidly-increasing gain. Witness the recent revelations that have taken the public so complete­ ly by surprise. But what does this prove? The utter rottenness of com­ mercial morality? Assuredly not, but only the fact that, in business as in law, as in medicine, as in every other de­ partment of life, human activities are inseparably bound up with the question of morality, and in the discharge of oven the commonest duties can find -scope for the cultivation, or, if men will, for the violation of all the virtues that go to make up the noblest type of manhood. And here 1 have only two remarks to make. In the first place, it is doubtless humiliating, pot merely * to cominertial njen, but to human na­ ture generally, to read these successive revelations of rascality in business cir­ cles, to hear of bankers, brokers, merchants and others occupying prom­ inent positions in social and commer­ cial life, betraying their trusts, embez­ zling funds committed to their keeping, robbing even the widow and the orphan •--in some cases witn absolute impun­ ity; indeed, lately, outrages of this kind have followed one another so thick and fast that we begin to wonder, •"Who next?11 and to ask, "Whom can we trust?" But let us not forget that <there is also to be found in commercial •circles a far greater proportion of .stainless honor, of unimpeached and unimpeachable integrity, of large- hearted, open-handed benevolence, that We do not near of; and that it is only Justice to set them over against the oc­ casional outbreaks of corruption that ^disfigure its record. It is not just to «estimate a fruit-bearing tree only by •the excrescences on its trunk. Yet - this is the principle on which an undis- , ^••oyiminating public too often acts. Let -One poor unfortunate be drawn into the maelstrom of commercial dishon- •! osty, and the press will proclaim it, tiruiDpet-touguea, and the lightning will flash it to the earth's uttermost cx- tocmities, and all the more gladly if he should happen to be the Trustee of a ••cliurch or the Superintendent of a Sunday-School; but let the ninety-and- ®ine hold on the even tenor of their way, keeping their hands clean and their life stainless, and scattering their ^benefactions with unstinted generosity, • and the world knows nothing of it-- newspaper and telegraph are alike Aleut. One example of this occurs to me, Mr. Chairman, which has come .under my observation, and which de­ serves to be rescued from oblivion. It hits a peculiar interest for us this even­ ing, inasmuch as it stands associated with the name of a member of the Commercial Club of Boston, who, greatly to our regret, and to his, doubt- , less, if he knows of our gathering, is separated from us to-night by more than a thousand leagues of .space * Something over six years ago, when the fire-fiend was raging in our midst, aaid the crash of our toppling homes and places of worship, and marts of trade was still ringing in our ears, and tiie atmosphere was thick and black With the smoke and dust and ashes of that all-devouring conflagration, the ; merchant to whom I allude hurried to * ' ' this city, and, with the lovelight of sym­ pathy glistening in his eye, said to his friends here with whom he had busi­ ness relations: "Keep a brave heart; ijo^tbe afraid. Don't contract your . business operations even by a hair's breadth. Buy and sell as before. Your * oblteatiojis to us are heavy, but don' mind. Pay others what you owe them '*•.« now. Pay us only when you can." Mr. ^Chairman, words like these, uttered at - -**6uch a crisis, are not soon forgotten-- they are imperishable. "y second and concluding word is, * ' . Tchat for all commercial coruption jSdishonesty there is but one . ( * .efficient remedy, and that is the ( .lifting up of the moral law |,f ?.i$nto the chief place of authority and the making it in every doubtful J t . case the supreme arbiter of right, from decisions there shall be no ap- yji- |>eal. Let this be the standard by J^hicli busniess men and their transac- J tions shall bejesti mated, and the problem of the morals of commerce wlllbe suc­ cessfully solved, tn my judgment, it is the only standard that men calling themselves honorable men can consent to accept. Let its sanctions, too, be considered obligatory in every rank of life, from the merchant prince to the proprietor of the pea-nut stand, from the occupant of the Presidential chair to the shoe-black at the street corner. Men nowadays are estimated more by their bank account than by their purity of character; more by their wealth than their moral worth. This is all wrong, wrong every way. Suoh standards of value must demoralize society. As I regard the matter, the peddler who owns only ten dollars in the world, and carries all his merchan­ dise in the pack on his shoulders, is more worthy of honor than the "suc­ cessful" merchant who occupies a marble-front and sips his wine at the risk of other people. But I must for­ bear; I have been advocating the doing of simple right in commercial life, ana yet have been myself doing a great wrong in encroaching on the time that belongs to other speakers; so only one word more: A business man once said to a clergyman who consulted him as to the best way of warming up his con­ gregation, " I*ut a stove in your pul­ pit. And the advice, rightly under­ stood, was good. Will you, as busi­ ness men, accept a little bit of advice in return from a clergyman? It is this: If you would give practical effect to the sentiment " the morals of com­ merce," bind up the Decalogue with your ledger ana daybook, and turn to it frequently for purposes of reference. Then commerce will indeed become honorable--the Church will pronounce her benediction within your marts of trade as gladly as within her own sanctuaries, and pray with. deepest fervor and sincerity. " Heaven speed the sail so gallantly unfnrled, . To furnish and accommodate a world; To give the pole the produce of the sun. Ana knit the unsocial climates into^me." An Indian Legend. ' The following story, selected from an Eastern teacher, may be applicable in all climes and by all people : " There was once a beautiful damsel upon whom one of the good genii- wished to bestow a blessing. He led her to the edge of a large field of corn, where he said to her: " 'Daughter, in the fields before us the ears of corn, in the hands Of those who pluck them in faith, shall have tal- ismanic virtues, and the virtue shall be in proportion to the size and beauty of the ear gathered. Thou shalt pass through the field once, and pluck one ear. It must be taken as thou goest forward, and thou shalt not stop in thy path, nor shalt thou retrace a single step in quest of thine object. Select an ear full and fair, and according to its size and beauty shall be its value to thee as a talisman.1 " The maiden thanked the good ge- ni, and then set forward upon her quest. As she advanced she saw many ears of corn, large, ripe and beautiful, such as calm judgment might have told her would possess virtue enough, but in her eagerness to grasp the very best she left these fair ones behind, hoping that she might find one still fairer. At length, as the day was closing, she reached a part of the field where the stalks were shorter and thinner, and the ears very small and shriveled. She now regretted the grand ears she had left behind and disdained to pick from the poor show around her, for here she found not an ear which bore perfect grain. She went on, but, alas! only to find the stalks more and more feeble and blighted, until in the end, as the day was closing and the night coming on, she found herself at the end of the field without having picked an ear of any kind. "No need that the geni should re­ buke her for her folly. She saw it clearly when too late, as how many in all climes and all ages, in the evening of life, call sadly and regretfully to mind the thousand golden opportunities forever lost because they were not plucked in their season!" A Xnnnrl Cave-ftweller. "A oOrrbspowdewt, Mr. C. W. Bibb* of Danville, Mo., sends us an account of a Montgomery-County hermit, who has lived tweAty-four j*ears in a cave alone while digging for gold. The re­ cluse is Mat. Geo. Boffhian, the milita­ ry title probably being a pleasant fic­ tion of his neighbors* Well, in 1853, the story goes, Boffman started for California with a yoke of oxen and a wagon, and he proposed to make his march across the continent all alone. While camping near Boone1 s Lick his oxen strayed off and he could not find them. Then he was indeed alone and helpless to travel with his wagon and goods. While searching for his 11 car­ riage cattle", he founa a cave. His brain was full of golden ideas, wad his mind became jaundiced by dreams of hidden treasures. He began to think that Boone's Lick would be as good a place to dig as any other spot on the round world, and the cave he had found was a good enough cabin for a miner. So he digged and digged, with a pickaxe and a "shovel, and has been digging incessantlv for gold at Boone's Lick ever since 1&53. He has made several huge holes in the ground, one of them thirty feet deep through al­ most solid rock, and still he digs for the shining metal. He says that he is expecting a French army to come and guard him while he is taking out his nuggets, when he strikes the color. Even in his long isolation from the world he has somehow got the idea that Americans steal. Somebody must have told him how this part of the world has been going on in the last fif­ teen or twenty years. The Major does not object to seeing the neighbors when they come to his cave, and he talks rationally upon all subjects but gold. He is also said to be a man of education and uses good language flu­ ently. He has three guns and shoots game, upon which he partially sub­ sists. The neighbors also bring him clothing and provisions stealthily. He would accept no charities of this kind directly, and his friends put needful tilings in his way. They have also tried to coax him out of his cave, in vain. His dress is very peculiar. His shoes are pieces of board with a leather strap tacked on to fit his foot, and the rest of his costume is of this primitive description. He is six feet tall and very thin, and lately his health has failed. Being sixty-five years old it is not likely he can stand many more hard winters in his cave, and may not last this winter through. His dwelling has no furniture except one stool, on which he seats himself when visitors come, and asks them to find chairs. His general reception-day is Sunday, and he likes to see the young people, who make excursions to his cave. The Major refuses to tell any more of his history than is given above, and is sus- Eicious of close questioners. Some ave cast upon him the imputation of counterfeiting,but there is no foundation for it. He is simply a cave-dweller from choice.--Missouri Republican. The Public Execution#?* WJA-S .-.ii'iA&L'yi fight With a Wolf. BrawEEN three and four o'clock Sun­ day morning, Mrs. M. E. Gratz, who lives at the corner of Scott and Chene streets, and is a widow woman, heard a great noise among the fifteen or twenty fowls in the coop at the back end of her yard. Thinking that chicken thieves were paying her a visit she awakened her son Henry, a lad about twelve years old, and told him to creep out silently to the chicken house and see if he could recognize the thieves, while she would follow at a safe distance with an ax, ready to assist him should they see him and attempt violence. Henry put on his clothes, and, follow­ ed by his mother, had crawled to within about ten feet of a small barn next to the poultry-house, when the door of the barn suddenly opened and out sprang what they at first thought was a large dog. As the animal sprang toward the boy he gave a loud bark, the harsh, sharp tones of which proclaimed to the mother that they had no dog to deal with. The boy attempted to spring aside, and was partially successful, till the animal, with glaring eyes and jaws wide open, gained temporary hold with his sharp teeth and claws upon the boy's right shoulder and hip. What might have followed it is diffi­ cult to say, had not Mrs. Gratz come to the rescue of her son. With all the strength at her command she struck the animal across the back with the face of the ax, then dropping her wea­ pon sprang in bare-handed for a grap- pie with the intruder. For several seconds a lively tussle was had, during which Mrs. Gratz and her son were severely scratched and had their cloth­ ing badly torn, when the animal broke away from them and disappeared across the commons, and in the darkness, to­ ward the Detroit & Milwaukee Junction. From tracks found In the snow Sunday forenoon it is concluded that the ani­ mal was a strong wolf, but whether a wild one or not is not known.-- Detroit Free Press. --An estray paragraph observes: "Nothing in this world but a mule's leg springs up spontaneously, and every man must build his own road to auo- When women who have loved and cared for their children to the last de­ gree have at last lost them, they fre­ quently think that if their children had been allowed to run at large, unwashed, unkempt, unfed, all but undressed, in the wet and in the sun, they would have been left alive; and they look with envy at the Washerwoman's sturdy babies rolling in the gutter as they go by, while their own dear ones, on whom they spent such cares, are laid away in silence. Their complaint and their envy, however, betray simply an ignorance that is widespread concerning the very great mortality among the children of the poor in cities. With these poor it it is only the sturdy and the hardy that do not die in infancy; those are exam­ ples of the survival of the fittest. When they, in turn, have children of their own, those children inherit a great deal of their parents1 hardiness, and live through nearly everything but murder. But murder comes to tnem; and the community allows the murder­ er to stalk boldly unchallenged at broad mid-day, while he decim^tos the ranks of those that cannot afford houses by themselves, with light and apace, pure air, pure water and dry floors. Of all the children rolling in the gut­ ters only a mere fraction endure the rough treatment and live. In damp dwellings, pervaded by the foui smell of countless sinks and deposits of filth, with fever already, doubtless, in m than one of the many rooms of tenement, with little to eat, with cleanliness, with unhealthy beds, insufficient warmth in winter, with rible heats in summer, what an amo of strength does it not need in orde: meet such ills and conquer them! mother who nurses these childre their babyhood is half-starved hers As soon as they are old enough to left, and sometimes before, she obliged to let them look out for th selves while she is away at her d drudgery, from which she returns them heated and tired out, and all fit; a little older, and they are out-doors in her absence, lighting with the great Shanghai for an apple core or with the neighboring bull-dog for a bone, or in-doors setting lire to their cloth­ ing; and woe betide them, at all times, if they fall sick, for then the whole grand army of noxious things marches into the breach, and it is found almost impossible for very sick children of these quarters to recover, if left in the place where they fell, as any physician will tell you who has had the pain of seeing these chil­ dren mowed down. What the effect of their surroundings is may be iudged from the following instance: " About the year 1767 it was ascertained that not more than one in tvventy-four of the poor children received into the work­ houses in London lived to be a year old; so that out of 2,800, the average num­ ber annually admitted, 2,690 died. This alarming mortality induced the Parlia­ ment to pass an act obliging the parish officers to send their infant poor to be nursed in the country at a proper dis­ tance from town. After this measure was adopted, only 450 out of the whole number died annually, and the greater part of those deaths happened during the three weeks that the children were kept In the work-houses." Human na ture --at any rate, its physical portion' --has not changed during the century sufficiently to weaken the force of suoh statement, and no broader commentary can ever be made on the way in which overy country wastes its bone and sinew in permitting such & state of things to continue, and in not making the purification of its by-ways and al­ leys a matter of public economy. Of course more than air is needed--water, time in which to use it, and food--but clean air would go a great way toward obviating every evil, and would doubt­ less vastly decrease the bill of mortal­ ity. Air that is unvitiated is positively essential to the health of children in dwellings and out-doors; it is by its means that the blood is oxygenated, purified of ill elements, and kept bound­ ing along the veins; and it is through the medium of bad air that a fearful throng of diseases are admitted to the tender system. And meanwhile, however it may be with the poor, there is many a mother among those by no means poor who thinks her own dead darling wanted for nothing, when, if she but knew the truth, it wanted the air of heaven, and the air with which she so carefully surrounded and shut it in, the air of ner foul cellar and un- purified sinks, was its murderer.--flar- per>8 Bazar. Bidding His Pile for a Saddlfe ̂ < in an up-town sales-stable there was a sale of horse-furniture by auction, a few days ago. Among the loungers around the place was a middle-aged man, bearded and bronzed, and, in gen­ eral appearance, much like Camancho George. He made no bids, and seemed to have been attracted merely by curi­ osity. There being some talk about the remarkable low price at which a handsome saddle ana bridle had been knocked down, the stranger turned to a reporter for the Sun, who was stand­ ing beside him, and remarked; "Thet ain't no price for that yer out­ fit; but I once seen a bullier one go for a mighty sight less." ' """"4 f 1 " How was that?" * M "Wal, stranger, it's summat of a story, but if you care to hear it, I don't mind tellin' it. You see, one time, back about ^O, me and my pard lied bin pros­ pecting round the Peak, and hed hed some luck. WeM struck a lead here 7nd thar, 'nd staked a few claims, 'nd thought we'd like to come back to the States, jest for the trip. We went down to Denver--HwasnH much to look at, but 'twas a mighty lively nlace them times, you bet--and picked up a little outfit, *nd laid our plans to joinm mule train bound East. We hed everything ready, but my pard he didn't hev no saddle 1n1 bridle sech as he cared to bring East, so we went brousin1 round to see what we could pick up. We struck an auction ranch, 'nd tnar we found jest what he wanted. 'Twas a Mexican outfit, jest the bulliest kind; hair bridle twisted with gold thread, 'nd a right smart of gold 'bout the head-stall. The saddle was stamped leather, and there was big tapadajos on the stirrups. I reckon the whole outfit was worth nigh onto a hundred dollars. My pard he struck the auction sharp then 'nd thar for that outfit, but the feller couldn't come to no terms,'nd sed thet if we'd come round next morn- m' we could hev a chance to bid onto it. Religious feritwas to be sold, sure. "Next morning we was around on time, 'nd thar was some of a crowd collected to see the auction. We heard p'r'aps half a dozen of ^m talking of that Mexican outfit, ?nd my para he lowed 'twas goin to be run up to con­ sider1 ble of a figger; but he'd sot his heart onto it, 'nd was willin1 to stake down a pretty hefty pile of dust to get it. Jest afore the auction was ready a big, ornery-looking cuss walked up, kinder slow like, as if he hednH no partickler interest in what was goin1 on,'nd sez: 'Gents, yer see thet ar saddle ^d bridle--thet gold-mounted Mexican outfit? Wal, I want thet outfit, 'nd I'm goin' to go my pile onto it, 'nd I'm goiir to hev it too. But I don't want to be in no ways onreason- able, 'nd I'll tell yer why I want thet outfit. Yer see Tve got a pard thet I freeze to, and he's sickly ?nd feeble, 'nd hain't bin panning out much dust lately. Wal, him 'nd ine kim down from the gulcli a spell ago, to try 'nd see ef some doctor feller wouldn't fix him up a bit, 'nd we put up at a hash ranch, whar it takes an almighty pile of dust to see the blind. 'Bout a week ago we got cleaned out, pretty nigh down to hard pan, 'nd the boss of the pard's saddle w big ugly-lookin' chap, 'nd he hed a couple of big navys and a bowie slung onto him. He kinder looked as ef he meant what he said. When thet Mexican outfit was {rat up, 'nd he bid $5, the fellers sorter ooked at each other, but, you bet, they didn't raise him. The auction sharp he hung on fer awhile, but he couldn't fet no other offers, ?nd so he jest nocked it down to the stranger with the navys and bowie. He hed to shake his dust-bag some 'nd clean out the chinks to make the riffle; but his pile jest turned the scales, ^ld he walked off with that outfit. Afore he went, he said as how he was much obleeged to the boys, 'nd hoped he'd hev a chance to do as much for them some time."-- N. Y. Sun. --Kingston, N. Y., has a professional juror who, when the jury retires for consultation, says to his fellow-mem- bers: "Gentlemen, I have agreed so and so, and when vou come to the same conclusion, wake me up." He then lies down, and when the jury agrees with him he is ready to report, but not before. --The song of the mortgaged church: " Sound the loud Kimball.' THE QLOBY TO BE REVEALED. (Rom. viii: 18.) AH! little I'll reck when the Journey is o'er. Of the burdens and griefs I so dreaded and bore; They'll all be forgot MI eater toe door. With that light on my face, and that song in my How unah my regard for part troubles and fean. While my harp wakes the music I've longed for for years! With my. Lord full in sight, and myself without stain. How blissful the notes, how triumphant the strain t As mv tongue sounds His praises again and againf But now I am wenry, my heart is cast down ~ So present the cross, ana so fm off the crown: My spirit lien fainting, my gladness has flown. Yet" faith" falters onward, and " hope" dues not move; ' Embedded for ever in infinite lofe, Hope anchors me fast to my Surety abovfe, Then why should I tremble when tossed on the wave ? The fiercest of storms cannot give me a grave. While Jesus is present to comfort and save. Though muring the ocean, the skies are serene; Though clouds darkly gather, the «mn shines between: And bright o'er the billows " the City is seen! Oh! weakest of cowards! Whs ever a saint So feeble as 1 am>, so quick of complaint, 80 easily downcast, so ready to faint? My hope is in Ood! Then, my heart be aiifcet: The wavea swell in wrath; but each glittering crest Is bright with the glory encircling His breast. He reigns! And & loves me! No longer I'll moan, Bememb'ring the music and light round the Throne- So soon to be mine when the journey is done! --E. W. S, in The OhrMian. flkmday-School Lessons. , F1KST QUAUTEH. 1878. Jan. 27.--Jeho^aphat h Prosperity Chron. 17:1-10. Feb. 8.-- Jehosapliat Reproved. .2 Chron. 19: 1-9. Feb. 10.--Jehosaphat Hejped of God 2 Chrmi.20:14- 22. Feb. 17.--Joash, Repairing the Temple .. --2 Ohron.24: 4-13. Feb. 24.--Uniah's Pride Pun­ ished 2 Cliron.26:16 -23. Mch. 8.--Ahaz' Persist'nt Wick­ edness 2 Chron .28:19-27. Mch. 10--Hez'kiah's Good Reign. 2 Chron .29: 1--11. Mch. 17,-Hezekiah and the Assyrians. 2Chron.32: 9-21. Mch. 24. -Manasseh Brought to Repentance. 2 Chron .S3: 9-16. Mch.81.--Review of the Lessons for the Qnaiter. Power of Habit. Rev. N. L. Brakeman, of Frankfort, Ind., is delivering a course of lectures to the young people of his congrega­ tion on "Tne harmony between Bible truth and human experience." One lecture (on the harmony of these two great teachers as to the formation, growth and power of habit) closes in these words: Of what we have said on this subject, this is the sum: Little acts, carelessly done at first, are repeated until they run into cus­ tom; custom forms habit; habits crys­ tallize into character, and character makes immortal destiny. So that hab­ its may yet bind the soul in chains of eternal fate. A flake of snow is a light and little thing, but flakes make the avalanche which shakes the mountains in its fall, overwhelms the city, and floods the valley. That spark from the electric wheel is a little thing; but it is electric­ ity that leaps in the lightning's bolt, from the storm-cloud, shatters the giant oak of the forest, and makes the earth tremble to the pulsations of its power. That fantastic spray of frost upon the window-pane is a small thing, but it is frost that makes the great ice­ bergs, floating in the Northern seas, ana grinding to atoms the strongest ships caught between their ponderous bodies. Sands form the globe; drops fill the vast ocean's bed; and stars form the innumerable shining hosts that crowd infinite space. Learn well the lesson which flakes, and sparks, and sands, and drops, and stars would teach. Take care of the littles, and fuard well the beginnings of thoughts, esires and deeds. A little, careless habit may end in a wasted fortune, a blighted name, a wrecked soul, a ruined life and a wretched immortality. Every habit is the representative of al­ most infinite power for weal or woe; for time and for eternity. • Thus have we tracea the power of habit, and seen hi it a law of sin, and the soul; of character of life; of time and eternity. So does sin enslave the soul. So helpless is man when bound by the cords of iniquity. And so do in­ ternal consciousness, personal expe rienee, and human history harmonize and demonstrate the truth of Bible teaching on the subject. I close with these lines of the poet: " Habit, at first, is butasilken thread. Fine sis the light-winged gossamem that sway In the warm sunbeam of a summer's day; A .shallow streamlet rippling o'er its bed; A tiny sapling e'er its roots are spread; A yet unnanlenwl thorn upon the spray; A lion's whelp that hath not scented piey, A little smiling child obedient led. Beware!--- That thread may bind thee as a chain; ' That streamlet, gather to a fatal sea;. That sapling, spread into a gnarled tiM; That thorn, grown hard, may wound and give thee pain; That whelp, his murderous fangs reveal; That child, a giant grown, may craw thee 'neath his heeL" Ho Armor for the Back. Let me advise vou to wear no armor for your back when you have deter­ mined to follow the track of truth. Re­ ceive upon your breastplate of right­ eousness the sword-cuts of your adver­ saries: the stern metal shall turn the edges of your foeman's weapon. Let the right be your lord paramount, and for the rest be free ana your own mas­ ter still. Follow the truth for her own sake; follow her in evil report; let not manv waters quench your love to her. Yield to no established rules if they in­ volve a lie. Do not evil that good should come of it. " Consequences!" --this is the devil's argument. Leave consequences to God, but do right. If friends fail thee, do the right. If foe- men surround thee, do the right. Be genuine, real, sincere, true, upright, god-like. The world's maxim is: Trim your sails and yield to circumstances But if you would do any good in your generation, you must be made of stern­ er stuff, and help make vour times rather than be made by them. You must not yield to customs, but, like the anvil, endure all blows, until the ham­ mers break themselves. When misrep­ resented, use no crooked means to clear yourself. Clouds do not last long. If in the course of duty you are tried by the distrust of friends, gird up your loins and say in your heart: I was not driven to virtue by the encouragement of friends, nor will I be repelled from it by their coldness. Finally, be just and fear not; " corruption wins not more than honesty;" truth lives fundi reigns when falsehood dies and rots. Spurgeon A Good Example. ' A FEW wfeeks since, it was proposed to the Sabbath-School connected with the Broadway Tabernacle Church in this city, that they should make their Christmas merry by the bestowment of gifts upon others, rather than by re­ ceiving gifts. The proposal was hearti­ ly approved both by teachers and pupils; and the classes, near fifty in number, soon selected the recipients for their favors. These were mostly families--worthy, but in want. Some were poor widows with little children; and others were individuals, aged or infirm, and dependent. The time was then improved in preparing the gifts, so that they should best meet the ne­ cessities of those for whom they were intended. Un t'rlday evening laai a meeting of rare and delightful interest was held at the Tabernacle. The teachers and pupils of the school and their friends came together to learn the results of their new method of Christmas merry­ making. After singing, prayer, the recitation of portions of Scripture by the classes, and an address Jbj the pastor, Dr. Taylor, brief reports from the teachers were read, giving a state­ ment of the work of each class, some account of the condition of those aided, and of the effect of what had been done, so far as observed, upon the givers and receivers. These reports stirred the hearts of all present. They showed that there had been contributed tons of coal, and barrels of flour, and bushels of pota­ toes, and pieces of beef, and roasted turkeys, and pies, and cakes, and can­ dies, and toys; also quantities of cloth­ ing of all kinds, insuring many a boy and girl, as well as older persons, pro­ tection against the winter's coming cold. Then, beside, there were fur­ nished several abundant and dainty Christmas dinners, all in readiness for the table; then, in addition, sums of money were given, in several instances* to pay rent, or procure medicine, or I meet other pressing necessities. All these, and many other gifts, were either presented on Christmas Day or sent to their destination on the .previous even-l ing. In some cases the gift was accom-| panied by the teacher and class--thel whole being a surprise and acknowl-l edged with tears of gratitude and glad-| ness. | The pecuniary value of all these gifts, | at a moderate estimate, was not less than $500. But who can estimate th« worth of the accompanying kind wore and generous sympathy and earnest prayers? Who can tell the value of the thankfulness of those throbbing hearts,] and of the courage and inspiration press on and upward in life's journey^ awakened in some that were ready faint? And, more than all, who cat calculate the value of the lesson o| benevolence practically and joyfully learned by all the children and youth u that large Sabbath-School? It will be hard for them ever to fox get that word of our Lord, " It is moi lessed to give than to rebeive.' Church Union. Sunday Amusements in Peru. A utter from Lima, Peru, to tl San Francisco Chronicle, describing Sunday entertainment at the Plaza Acho, gives an account of a bull-figt and a bull and bear fight, and coij eludes with the following sketch of fight between a lioness and four bul dogs, and of an incident not noticed the programme: " The cage was now turned, and saw a large full-grown lioness of ferJ cious aspect, while at the same momeij an attendant appeared leading hy a chain fouV small dogs of the bull sj cies. They were immediately led inj the cage, and with fierce growls i] stantly sprang on their foe. It woi seem almost impossible for four sud insignificant animals to be victorious 1 an encounter with an enormous liol but the result showed how juoi.e bn foi-co falls a prey to cunning strategeij The audience were now worked up fever pitch of excitement, and hundre| sprang into the arena to obtain a clc view of the combat. The soldiers we now ordered to clear the arena, a| charged with fixed bayonets on crowd, wounding several in their forts to force them back. This so furiated the mob that knives and pist were drawn, and a fierce encounf took place between the * military the rabble, resulting in the killing I several of the former. The solcuj were first ordered to fire into the hut this proving futile, a volley poured into the mob, killing seve| and wounding others. The crot threatening dire vengeance, retreat leaving the space clear, and -thus ing the spectators, an extra perfoi ance not aown in the bill, and wh| appeared to be heartily enjoyed tnem. " During the excitement caused the collision between the soldiers the mob, the fight between, the lion the dogs had ended in the latter bej victorious, and as we looked tow| the cage we saw the dogs standing their prostrate foe, lapping its blJ and apparently little the worse for | encounter, though subsequently •of them died from their wounds, closed the entertainment, and enormous throng of spectators left! Plaza de Acho well pleased with wj they had witnessed. "Receiving an invitation to si the evening with the family of my 1 friends, I gladly accepted and was si ensconced in their hospitable mans] The conversation naturally rcvertel the scenes we had that day witnef at the Plaza de Acho. The lal stoutly defended their National ami ments, although I pointed out the that such barbarous spectacles die tend to elevate the morals of % pec and instanced the bloody affray I tween the military and the mob; I they were unconvinced, declaring no country in the world afforded ^ exquisite entertainments as their beautiful Poru." ^