ANECDOTES AND SELECTIONS.

MORAL DRY ROT.-Multitudes of men dally with little sins while keeping a good reputation, and the world wonders at the crash with which they fall when some great temptation suddenly ruins them. How many more might fall who are spared the one overpowering temptation!-In some harbours it is found that after a time the largest timbers are bored by a little insect, who has pierced the stout oak as by a thread of fire, so that it breaks under its own weight, and crumbles into dust. So there are men who seem made of the strongest stuff, strong enough to bear any weight put upon them, but who in time get completely riddled through with sins, and fall at last by the sheer force of moral gravitation. It is sad to see a ship destroyed by madripores. How much sadder to see a man chewed up with petty vanities and vices until he crumbles as from dry rot. Many a man would valiantly resist a great temptation, and plant his foot upon a visible wickedness, who heeds not the little peccadilloes and invisible shapes of evil which steal upon him unawares, and completely honey-comb his heart before he is aware of their fatal gnawing.

THE BEGGAR AND HIS DOG.-A beggar who was in the habit of sitting on one of the London bridges, accompanied by a dog with a placard inscribed "Blind" attached to his neck, was fortunate enough to awaken the charitable sympathies of a gentleman, who, every morning when he passed the mendicant, dropped a penny into his hat. One day the usual donation was omitted, and the supposed blind man ran after his benefactor as fast as his crutches would permit, and boldly asked why the usual penny had not been forthcoming. 'Why, I thought you were blind!" exclaimed the man of charity, amazed. "No, sir, it is not I," replied the beggar; "it is the dog."

LEIGHTON'S SAYING.—There are but ten precepts in the law of God, says Leighton, and two of them are bestowed on the tongue-one in the first table and the other in the second-as showing it is ready, if not bridled, to fly out against both God and man.

The Fireside.

HELPING CHILDREN TO LIE.

THAT lying is bound up in the hearts of children it would not become me to deny. But certainly it is often untied. Indeed there are few children who will not tell lies-the testimony of their parents to the contrary notwithstanding. But of two facts I am reasonably sure. First, that children's falsehoods are often as much the parent's fault as their own; and secondly, that children do not lie as much as grown up people do, and seem to do so only from want of skill and practice. Lies are instruments of attack or defence, and so may be classed as offen

THE FIRESIDE.

sive or defensive. Children's lies are almost always defensive, and for the most part are employed in defending themselves against parents, nurses, elder brothers and sisters, and schoolmasters. Being weak and helpless, concealment is in their case, as in the animal kingdom, almost the only means of defence. Children's lies are in multitudes of instances mere attempts to hide themselves from sharp censure or sharper whipping. Take a case from life. Master Henry is sent to mill one day in winter, but with strict injunctions not to stop and skate. But the pond is so inviting, the boys are so merry, they so persuasively coax him, that it is not in his social little heart to refuse. Of course he skates longer than he intended. On reaching home he is questioned :

"Why have you been so long, Harry ?"

"O, the grist was not ground, and I had to wait."

"Did you go on the pond?"

"No, sir, I didn't."

Here is a pretty tangle of lies! The old gentleman runs his hand into the bag, and finds the meal stone cold. He rides over to the mill to inquire about matters, and finds that the grist was ground the day before; he rides home and calls up the urchin, who knows that a grist now is to be ground that will be hot enough. Here is disobedience first; then a lie; and next, upon cross-questioning, a second lie, explanatory and defensory of the first. Of course punishment was earned and deserved. But the boy did not lie because he liked to, or because he was indifferent to the truth. He was suborned by fear. He shrank from punishment, and tried to hide behind a lie. The refuge proved treacherous, as it ought to have done.

But, now, is there no lesson to parents in this thing? Shall they hastily place their children between such unequal motives as conscience and fear? The lower instincts in children are relatively far stronger than moral sentiment. Conscience is weak and unpractised, while fear is powerful, and, at times, literally irresistible. The fear of pain, the fear of shame, the fear of ridicule, drive children into falsehood. Those who govern them might at least remember how it was in their own cases, and so manage as to help conscience against fear, rather than by threats and sternness make the temptation irresistible.

Children are very delicate instruments. Their minds are undeveloped, ungoverned, and acutely sensitive. Men play upon them as if they were tough as drums, and, like drums, they were made for beating. They are to be helped more than blamed. One in sympathy with their little souls will lead them along safely amid the temptations to falsehood, where a rude and impetuous nature will plunge them headlong into wrong. The one element of real manhood, above all others, is truth. A child should not be left to learn how to be true, how to resist temptations, how to give judgment in favour of right and virtue. Here is the very place where help is needed-patience, sympathy, counsel, encouragement. Instead of these, the one motive, too often, is the whip!-Beecher.

THE PENNY POST BOX.-FACTS, HINTS, GEMS, AND POETRY.

The Penny Post Box.

CHRIST EVERYWHERE.

CHRIST at the counting-desk, as you meet that trembling debtor whom you are about to deliver over to the dogs of the law, to say to you, Forgive seventy times seven."

6.

Christ at the pen, to indite that article to turn that brilliant sentiment to His glory.

Christ at the fireside, to give example to childhood of the walk and conversation that befits you.

Christ at the polls, to tell you to love your country, to accord to your neighbour the love you would that he should have for you.

Christ in the pulpit, instead of self, the sophistry of your own sermon, or the seductions of your own rhetoric.

Christ in the pew, to practice what you hear, and take all to yourself. Christ on Monday morning, giving light and love to your countenance, and causing your face to shine in gladness.

Christ at the bedside, to point the sufferer to Him who suffered for all. Christ at the mast-head, to bear His life and teachings, when out of sight of men, and unto all climes and nations.

Christ in the dungeon, to justify, to solace and save from crime, and restore to citizenship again.

Christ with the lost one as she struggles with the demon of poverty and the wiles of her seducer.

Christ with the statesman, to bid him, in the fear of God, do all things, knowing all government is from Him.

Christ at the cradle, to bend the pliant twig and give it purpose and beauty forever.

Christ everywhere. No matter where.

Facts, Hints, Gems, and Poetry.

Facts.

MOUNT ETNA.

tion of Etna just before the Trojan war, which drove out the Greek colonists. Thucydides tells us that in the THIS volcano rises in solitary mag-stream ravaged the environs of Catania, spring of 425 B.C. (before Christ) a lava nificence to the height of nearly eleven thousand feet above the shores of Sicily.

The circular base of the cone is nearly ninety miles in circumference. The mountain was once much higher that it is at the present time. Diodorus Siculus mentions an erup

on the sea-coast, and says that this was the third eruption since the island had been colonized by the Greeks.

In 1444 the principal cone was more than three hundred feet above the dome-shaped part of the mountain; but in 1537 this cone fell in, and was seen no more.

FACTS, HINTS, GEMS, AND POETRY.

SOME years ago, two boys, while playing upon a cliff near the sea, found a young sea-bird which a dog was worrying. It would have been killed but for them. They drove away the dog, and carried the bird, nearly as large as a goose, safely home. There it was shut up in a coop, like the hens and chickens, fed and kindly cared for. It soon became quite tame, and showed great love for its little masters. And thus weeks and months rolled on. In the fall of the year the bird became very tame; the coop was now and then opened, and the prisoner allowed to go to the coast, near which the boys lived. But it came home at night, took its supper, and crept to its nest. So the cold winter passed away and spring came. One night the bird was missed. It did not come home. The next day and the next went by, and still the coop was empty. The fact was, the boys' bird had been coaxed away—I cannot really say into bad company. But it had joined a flock on its way north, and flown with the rest. Presently the boys began to see the difficulty, and, as a matter of course, they had to have a good cry about it. They had learned to love their bird, and to part with it, for them, was a severe trial.

One cold, autumn day, as the boys were playing in their yard, they saw a flock of sea-birds coming towards them. Nearer and nearer they came, until at last, to their great surprise, the whole flock settled upon the ground close at hand, and the largest waddled along towards them, quacking most curiously as she came. It was the bird which had flown away in the spring, now come back with her young ones for the winter! You may imagine, if you can, the delight of the boys, and of their parents, at this instance of affection. Words cannot describe it. You may make up your mind that the flock was not turned adrift, though for a long time the young ones were very wild, and did not take as kindly to the boys as the mother did. They did not know them so well.