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Moabites and Edomites (2 Sam. viii. 2, this out, thought he would charge his 14). Out of Jacob shall come, etc. An- stingy neighbor for the smell of his other reference to the royal race of Is- eels. So, making out his bill, he prerael, but absolutely fulfilled only in sented it to Kisaburo, who seemed to be Christ, whose enemies shall be made His much pleased. He called to his wife footstool. (Heb. x. 13). to bring his iron-bound money box, Balaam himself subsequently became which was done. Emptying out the an enemy and fell a victim to the power shining mass of kobans (oval gold of Israel. He was slain because he had pieces, worth five or six dollars), ichi-bu counseled the Midianitish women to and ni-bu (square silver pieces, worth a seduce the Israelites to commit idolatry, quarter and a half dollar respectively), as the only way of effecting their de- he jingled the coins at a great rate, and struction (Num. xxi. 16). In conse- then, touching the eel-man's bill with quence of this counsel a destructive his fan, bowed low, and said, with a plague had broken out in Israel (Num. xxvi. 1). Thus Balaam became in fact the destroyer of the people, which is what his name signifies. The idea of injuring people by seducing them to sin is what you not going to pay me?" is meant by the doctrine of Balaam (Rev. ii. 14); and this is the only way in which the wicked can ever seriously hurt the righteous. Balaam could effect nothing by cursing Israel, but he could bring evil upon them by leading them to commit sin. Our worst enemies are those who would corrupt our religion and morals.

"What!" cried the eel-frier, "are

"Why, yes, I have paid you. You have charged me for the smell of your eels, and I have paid you with the sound of my money."-Prof. Griffis "Japanese Fairy World."

Smells and Jingles.


Yedo people are very fond of broiled eels. A rich merchant, named Kisaburo, who was very miserly with his money, once moved his quarters next door to the sbop of one Kichibei, who caught and cooked eels for a living During the night Mr. Kichibei caught his stock in trade, and in the day-time served them, smoking hot, to his customers. Cut into pieces three or four inches long, they were laid to sizzle on a grid-iron over red hot charcoal, which was kept in a glow by constant fanning. Kisaburo, wishing to save money, and having a strong imagination, daily took his sest at meal time close to his neighbor's door. Eating his boiled rice, and snuffing in the odors of the broiled eels. as they were wafted in, he enjoyed with his nose what he would not pay for to put in his mouth. In this way, as he flattered himself, he saved much money, and his strong box grew daily heavier. Kichibei, the eel-broiler, on finding


"All right, neighbor Kichibei, we are square now."

AT NIGHT.-Here is one of Thackeray's pleasant touches: "It is night now; and here is home. Gathered under the quiet roof, elders and children lie alike at rest. In the midst of a great pace and calm the stars look out from the heavens. The silence is peopled with the past; sorrowful remorses for sins and short-comings, memories of passionate joys and griefs rise out of their graves, both now alike calm and sad. Eyes, as I shut mine, look at me that have long ceased to shine. The town and the landscape sleep under the starlight, wreathed in the autumn mists. Twinkling among the houses, a light keeps watch here and there, in what may be a sick chamber or two. The clock tolls sweetly in the silent air. Here is night and rest. An awful sense of thanks makes the heart swell, and the head bow, and I pass to my room through the sleeping house, and feel as though a hushed blessing were upon it."

THE greater your wants, the greater God's goodness in supplying them; the greater your enemies, the greater the display of God's power in subduing them; and the greater your unworthiness, the greater his grace in saving you.

The Guardian.



A Parting Greeting.

In January, 1867, I accepted the editorship of the Guardian. At the same time I began the publication of the Reformirte Hausfreund, a bi-weekly German paper, in the interest of the Pennsylvania German membership of the Reformed Church. I also assumed the editorship of the latter, for which 1 then, as now, felt poorly qualified. A sheer sense of duty impelled me to undertake it. There was a pressing demand for the publication, and no one else seemed willing to undertake it. Thus it happened, contrary to any pre vious expectations, at the earnest solicitation of a number of our best ministers, among whom was Dr. Harbaugh, that I became the publisher and editor of a German periodical, and till the present have continued to be such. Besides editing an English monthly and a German bi-weekly, I then was the pastor of the large First Church of Reading, and in December, 1872, became pastor of my present flock. This, too, has grown to become a large congregation. In looking back over the way along which the Lord our God has led me these fifteen years, my heart and my eyes fill up. To have charge of three such interests is no light matter. I have served in weakness but in sincerity. I pray God to forgive my failings, and beg my friends to forgive the imperfections of my services.

NO. 12.

then. My health is vigorous, God be praised. Still advancing years admonish me to lighten my burdens, and as it is easier to find an editor for the Guardian than for the Hausfreund, I withdraw from the former.

Fifteen years of editorial care and labor for a publication like this, endear it to one's heart. Though personally unknown to many of its readers, one acquires the habit of thinking of them as friends, closely allied to him with tender ties of mutual affection, to whom you owe solemn duties of head and heart, and who have a kindly sympathy for you. I gratefully call to mind the many words of kindly appreciation from readers and periodical exchanges, accorded the Guardian during my editorial labors. I thankfully think of the patient and perplexed printers, to whom my erasures and interlinings must often have given a world of trouble; and of the obliging printing firm of Grant, Faires & Rodgers. During these fifteen years I have not visited their office once, but communicated solely by correspondence. This firm printed the Guardian more than fifty miles away from its editor, with such accuracy, despatch, and uniform courtesy, that my heart prompts me to make this public acknowledgment. My kind wishes shall attend the dear Guardian in the future. May it long continue to bless and cheer the young. Although no longer an editorial contributor, I hope, as time and occasion may permit, now and then to furnish something for its pages. It affords me pleasure to report that it now has a larger subscription list than at any previous period of

Through all these years the Guardian gave me much pleasure. I wove into its texture my heart's warmest sympathies, my mind's purest thoughts. And often in writing for it have I felt the touches of the warm throbbings and its history. In 1875 a Sunday-school fresh glow of the young, in whose be- Lesson department was added to it, half I labored. I love the young now to which its increased circulation is no less than fifteen years ago. I am largely owing. as much in sympathy with them now as

I part, editorially, from the Guardian

with feelings of sadness, not unlike those
of a personal bereavement; as though one
very near to my heart were about to be
taken out of my sight. Yet this feeling
is materially mollified by the assurance
that my successor in office is one of its
faithful and long-tried friends. I take
great pleasure in introducing to the
readers and patrons of this magazine, Dr.
J. H. Dubbs, who is not unknown to its
readers. His busy and able pen has
often enriched its pages. His appoint-
ment by the Board of Publication is a
guarantee that the Guardian, as from
its first number, published thirty-two
years ago, shall continue to breathe the
spirit of Life, Light, and Love. I feel
convinced that he is in hearty sympathy
with his work and with the people whom
he is to serve, and bespeak for him the
same kindly support which has been so
generously accorded to me. May God
abundantly bless the readers and pa-
trons of the Guardian, and him too, into
whose hands I hereby place its editorial

A Notice To Our Exchanges.

We hereby notify all the exchanges of the Guardian, to change the address of the magazine from Reading to Lancaster, Pa., after January 1, 1882.

The Sapling and the Oak.


that strong men wept, and women wailed in uncontrollable sympathy.

With the heroic courage born of her puritanic faith and lineage Eliza Garfield then and there consecrated all her powers to the assumption of those responsibilities a dying husband bequeathed to her in firm faith of her abilities. And what a golden picture for the world's example is held up to us in her methodic combination of labor and intellect; what a panorama of moral influence emanates from that humble cottage in the Cuyahoga wilderness! That Christian mother makes the hearthstone of home a resounding sphere of the uses and heroisms of life.

When the cattle had been housed, the wood stored and the frugal meal partaken of, that mother, though cut off from all communication with intellectual communities of the day, and wearied by incessant toil, indefatigably labored to introduce her children within the arena of books and soul knowledge. "In the morning she sowed her seed; and in the evening withheld not her hand."

"I have planted four saplings in these woods and I must leave them to your care." -Dying words of Garfield's father to his mother.


For daily bread her children toiled with willing hands, guiding the plow, swinging the axe and scythe, hoeing corn and gathering the potato and the nuts for winter use; while James, our hero, with mechanical skill guides the chisel and the gimlet, and puts the hinges on many a door+for, says a late writer, "There was not a lazy bone in his body, and he possessed all the boyish enthusiasm that often makes the whole world seem attainable."

Until they were full-fledged readers themselves, every night that loyal mother overhauls her scanty library, and reads with her own lips to the little audi

On the Western plains of a but part-ence of four, some incident in the "Life ly cleared wilderness, amidst pioneer of Napoleon," "Life of Marion," or scenes, the mass of the settlers had that source of endless comfort-the gathered by the open grave of a com- Bible. rade. The suddenly bereaved widow and four children stood weeping over the remains of a late strong, athletic husband and father. The subdued grief of the mourners was broken by the youngest of the band-a mere babe in the arms of his maternal uncle, mustering all his infantile strength in wild calls for "Papa, papa! Wake up!" So pathetic was the action of the child,

Through much heroic endurance and many self-denials the Orange homestead can hold its own, under that noble woman's guidance until the pliant "saplings" have their twigs bent and the tough young oaks spread their firm branches in the breeze of heaven! Childhood is past, and the energetic youth feels his blood bounding for enlarged fields for an expansive intellect.

The broad sweep of the open sea wins his alluring fancy, and tempts him away from the maternal nest; but like the immortal Washington, he had a mother whose tears and prayers won his responsive obedience, For her sake he defers his "life on the ocean wave!" and lo! Providence leads him into a friendship in the person of a man of intellectual powers, who turns his ambition towards a higher plane. In the ladder of intellectual development he contentedly takes the lower round, and self-help, and self-culture fill up the gaps of long vacations in the halls of learning.

As he makes his steady but sure way upward in intellectual eminence-does he ever think of the first impulse to such high aims, that came upon him. when saved as by a miracle from a watery grave in the Cleveland canal? No human help was near, but a rope which he himself had tried in vain to fasten, providentially caught in a crevice, enabling him to draw himself up out of the watery abyss.

On being saved, tradition has it, he tried six hundred times to throw the rope so that it would catch in the crevice as it did when it saved him. His efforts were vain. Said he, "Against such odds Providence alone could have saved my life; Providence therefore thinks it worth saving, and if that's so, I won't throw it away on a canal-boat. I'll go home and get an education,"

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Many of his little band of heroes at Middle Creek had exchanged the College-pen for the sword-proud to be under the leadership of one who stood high in their Alma Mater.

Yet his most magnetic power was in his oratory; as his infant cry swayed the impulsive and sympathetic hearts by his father's grave, so the voice of his manhood in the crisis of the Nation impelled to involuntary obedience fifty thousand of his fellow citizens. In that historic hour, when the emancipator of four million of America's Freedmen, and the successful chieftain through a long and bloody civil war, was stricken down by the cowardly assassin, and the whole North rose in convulsive and righteous wrath, there gathered at the Exchange in New York a mass-meeting of fifty thousand men, whose blood boiled for vengeance for the murder of Lincoln. When in their heated imagination they had conjured up the editor of The World as instigator of their woee, with a gallows-tree on their shoulders and vengeance in their hearts, the frenzied crowd fled towards their intended victim. Above the angry tumult and hoarse roar of wrath, a strong right hand was lifted heavenwards-a voice clear and steady, loud and distinct, spoke out, "Fellow-Citizens! Clouds and darkness are round about Him; His pavilion is dark waters and thick clouds of the skies. Justice and judgment are the habitation of His throne; mercy and truth shall go before His face. Fellow-citizens, God reigns, and the Government at Washington still lives!" He ceased, but the


mad caldron of boiling passion and murderous hate was stilled-the tumultuous multitude renounced dire vengeance for peaceful submission to an overruling Providence. But had Garfield not spoken the streets of New York would have reeked in blood.

The "sapling" had become the strong oak whose spreading branches dispensed strength and healing to the multitude. Again the Senate Chamber of his country enlisted his service, and through good and ill report he kept on the even tenor of his way as God gave him to see the right. But Providence had yet a higher goal for him! The Republic of America needed a chief to guide the ark of liberty through the shoals and quicksands of its opening second century Garfield became that Chief.

Like a true Republican he believed "the voice of the people the voice of God." Again, he leaves the loves and comforts of a sunlit home, and the peace of rural life for the mad rivalry and persecution in the political arena. Strong in the strength of calm endurance he fills the Chieftain's seat, bearing upon his breast the rude shock of political hate that corrupt men fling like a gauntlet into his face. Stronger grow the bonds of confidence in the The newly-elected Chief Magistrate. whole country and other lands wake to the magnitude of his ability and worth.

But alas! at that moment, in the hey day of his fame, like the immortal Lincoln, the murderous bullet is aimed at his heart, and James A. Garfield, twentieth President of the United States, has received his death-blow-the axe had been laid at the root of the mighty oak whose giant trunk held at anchor the Ship of State.

Statesman or victor in the field

Where hostile armies stood;
He did the noblest power yield-
The power of doing good.

Lyman Beecher,


green old age-this makes a southern winter of declining years, in which the sunlight warms, though the heats are gone-such are ever welcome to the young.



Lyman Beecher was impetuous, positive, and at times impatient of restraint. He governed his house by rigid rules, his wife by a judicious and wise love. Her husband says: "I scarcely ever saw her agitated to tears. Once, soon after we had moved into our new house (at East Hampton) the two pigs did something that vexed me; I got angry and thrashed them. She came to the door and interposed. The fire hadn't got out. I said quickly, 'Go along in!" She started, but hadn't more than time to turn before I was at her side, and threw my arms around her neck and kissed her, and told her I was sorry. Then she wept.' "I do not think I shall be with you long," she said one day to her husband. Six weeks later her saying proved true. Eight little children wept around her death bed, as their father gave her back to God. Then came a season of great emptiness and gloom, for the chief light of the parsonage had gone out. The husband felt the terror of "a child suddenly shut out alone in the dark.” The He had always regarded her intellectually and morally his superior. smaller children little realized their loss. Henry Ward, with his golden curls and little black frock, frolicked, like a kitten in the sun, in ignorant joy. Many were the curious questions the little ones asked about their departed mother. They were told that she had been laid in the ground; that she had One morning Henry gone to heaven. was found digging with great zeal. in the earth under his sister Catherine's window. What are you doing? he was asked. Why, I'm going to heaven to find ma," said he, thinking that the way mother went was through the earth in which she had been laid.


I know not indeed a more beautiful spectacle in the world than an old man, who has gone with honor through all its storms and contests, and who retains to the last the freshness of feel ing that adorned his youth. This is the true

In due time a second mother was brought into the parsonage in the person of Miss Harriet Porter, a cousin of the first one. Mrs. Stowe says:

"I was about six years old, and slept in the nursery with two younger brothers. We knew that father had gone somewhere on a journey, We and therefore the sound of a bustle or disturb ance in the house more easily awoke us.

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