the oldest men making the greatest noise; and the younger ones sat nodding and grunting; but gradually the nodders and grunters began to rise one by one, and standing side by side, commenced stamping and grunting, and swinging their heads in the most violent manner, every moment becoming more and more excited, until the perspiration ran down their whole bodies, saturating their calico tunics; many of them foaming at the mouth; still on they went, until absolutely exhausted, they then lay down on the floor, and a solemn, pale-looking priest walked over them as they were prostrate on the ground; and thus, after having lasted two hours, ended a scene of which we were all heartily sick. The worship of the dancing dervish of Egypt, foolish as it seemed, is order and beauty compared with the roaring, stamping furies of the Sublime Porte.

fireman rushing into a burning building at the risk of his own life, battling with the smoke and flame, and trying to rescue a child, or a man, or a woman from being burnt to death. There is bravery in a fisherman leaping into the boat along with his companions, and with a fierce wind blowing in their faces, and the big waves throwing their boat about like a feather, pulling with all their might to reach a sinking ship in order to rescue the poor sailors from a watery grave. There is bravery in a man or a woman, who, when terrible diseases are prevailing and people are dying on all sides, goes from house to house in order to soothe and comfort those who are dying, and if possible, by careful attendance and good nursing, to bring them round to health. There is bravery in exposing ourselves to any danger in order to save others from death or serious injury.

There is bravery in doing a thing we think to be right when other people think we are wrong, and in refusing to do a thing we believe to be wrong when other people think it right. That was a splendid act of bravery on the part of Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah. Perhaps the readers will find out for themselves what these three persons did. That was a noble and brave act on the part of Daniel, who, when he knew all about the danger, went and prayed as usual, with his room window open towards Jerusalem, and when he allowed himself to be cast into the den of lions rather than deny his God. Paul was brave when he endured poverty with the disciples of Christ, rather than wealth with his old associates. Little Samuel was brave, when, although trembling, he told to Eli the message delivered to him by God.

But how can boys and girls be brave? Can they make themselves brave? Some people are naturally timid and fearful, but even such people may become brave if they will try, and at the same time seek God's help.

You can be brave although young, by determining that if you know it you will never do a mean or wrong thing.

a dog or a cat, or in teazing old, or lame, or blind people, if you make a stand against it that will be brave. If some wrong thing is done, and several of your companions agree to tell a falsehood about it, you must show your bravery by refusing to join them, and by telling the exact truth. It was a brave act that little George Washington is said to have done when he had chopped his father's favourite tree with his new hatchet, and when his father enquired who had done it, little George said, "he dare not tell a lie." I fear there are some who would have been afraid to tell the truth. There are many boys and girls that grow up to be liars, because on some occasions they are afraid to speak the truth when others deceive.

It requires bravery to do right when it is not pleasant. It is not pleasant to acknowledge we have done wrong, but even that is sometimes needful, and we had better be brave and do it, than do wrong again by refusing to acknowledge it. There are some people so bold that they will persevere in a bad course when they are convinced it is bad.

It sometimes requires bravery to acknowledge our true position in life. You have read, I dare say, John Ashworth's story about himself and his poor mother. It required some courage to go to school with that pinafore with the big letters on it, made out of a packing sheet. When William Carey, the Indian missionary, had become a great man, someone said in his hearing one day, "Wasn't this Carey a shoemaker ?" "No," replied Carey, "only a cobbler," that is a shoe-mender. Some people when they rise in the world like that are too proud to admit their humble origin, they are cowards, not brave men.

It requires bravery to persevere in a good cause when we have failed once or twice. Some boys and girls if they cannot do a sum right at first, they give it up; a brave boy would say, "It can be done, and I'll try again." Be brave, then. That is, try to get to know what is right, and when you have found it out, stick to it; stick to it though it may keep you poor; stick to it though it may tell against you; remember the words,

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Dare to be a Daniel! dare to stand alone! Dare to have a purpose firm! dare to make it known.

If you do your best, God will help you to be brave. He does not always help people to get rich; but when people try to be brave and good, God will help them.

Here end our "Talks on Character." I hope the seed sown will be fruitful, and that many boys and girls whom I have never seen, will be encouraged in the battle of life by reading and thinking of them. May God bless them to your good!

Robert's Advice to his Sister.

NE sunny Saturday morning, not long ago, Robert Somers sat in his tool shop busily at work. Presently his little

sister Bessie came:

"I've done something dreadful, Bob, though it wasn't my fault either. You won't tell, will you?" she asked, looking up doubtfully.

"No honest, I won't," he replied promptly, interested at the prospect of sharing a secret.

"Well,”—and Bessie drew a long breath-"I went to get a drink of water, and there was one of those thin fancy tumblers, you know, on the table, and I wanted to drink out of it awfully, 'cause mother's so afraid of them she never lets me, and when I was just in the act of putting it back on the table, somebody opened the door, and I never noticed where it went, and it dropped on the floor, and "-Bessie stopped to choke back a sob.

"Went all to smash, did it ?" inquired Bob, sympathetically.

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was only an accident; and I told her I didn't
want the Blessed Virgin to forgive me, and then
she got mad, and said I shouldn't stay in the
kitchen. O, Bob! do you think I'll have to
tell mother? It would only make her feel bad
if she knew one of 'em was broken, an' if I
don't tell her, p'raps she won't never miss it,
an' won't never have to feel bad about it.
sure I don't want to make her feel uneasy."
This was quite a tempting view of the matter,
and Bessie longed to have Bob approve of it.
At last he said:

"Do you want my advice, Bessie ?"
"Yes. What would you do? "

I'm

“Well, if I was in your place, Bess, I'd tell her. You know that's the only honest, square thing to do, really. There are several reasons why it is better to be honest about anything of that kind. One is, perhaps she'll forgive you, like George Washington's father; " and Bob took up his boat again, feeling that the minister himself couldn't have given better advice. As for poor Bessie, she rather resented poor Robert's tone of superiority, and said quickly :

“I don't much believe you would tell after all, Bob. It ain't half as easy as you think." 'P'raps it ain't easy. Who said it was? But I hope I should be honest enough for that," and self-righteous Bob brought down the hammer with all his might on the knife with which he was splitting a piece of wood. Alas for him! It struck on an unseen nail, snapping off the slender point in a trice. He quickly drew out the pointless, blunted blade and gazed at it in dismay, while Bessie, in spite of her trouble, couldn't help laughing a little at the sudden change in his face.

This was anything but soothing to Robert's feelings, and he muttered that he didn't see what business that old nail had there, and other amiable remarks to the same effect.

Robert was about as unreasonable as unfortunate people are apt to be.

"Well, Robert," said Bessie, at length, "we've both done something now. Let's go and confess together."

"Confess," repeated Robert slowly, "why I-I guess I don't believe-that is "-and without finishing his sentence he carefully shut the knife, and going to his father's tool-chest, put it away exactly where he had found it. Bessie's blue eyes opened very wide at the proceeding, and Robert could not meet their look as he explained: "You see, Bess, John's going to leave next week, and if father don't find it out before then, why he'll think John did it, you see it won't hurt John 'cause he won't be here."

As soon as Bessie could say anything for amazement, she began, "But, Bob, I thought you said if you was in my place,”—but Robert rushed off to the garden, not caring to hear his own words repeated just then.

Bessie stood still on the barn floor, looking thoughtfully toward the door where Robert had disappeared. A single streak of sunlight edged its way through a creak, making a perfect glory of her wavy, flaxen hair, so that she formed quite a pretty little picture, as she did nothing but think full ten minutes. At last a light flashed into her eyes, and she went out to find Robert. She came upon him, gloomily pulling up weeds in his garden.

"Bob," she said, "I've just this second thought of that verse I learned for prayers this morning, and I'm going to do it."

"What was it?" asked Robert, without looking up.

"I don't remember exactly, but it's some. thing about 'confesseth his sins, and he shall have mercy; and so I'm going to confess my sins to mother, 'cause 'mercy' means she won't care much."

To this lucid explanation Robert only replied, "Tell her, then," still keeping his eyes on the weeds.

Robert didn't see Bessie again until dinnertime, and then he knew by her lively chatter that the burden was off her mind at last. How he envied her! If he could only have the same

peace of mind. But no, he hadn't the courage to pay the price,-confession; so Robert ate his dinner silently enough, never opening his mouth, except to put his food into it.

As they arose from the table Mrs. Somers said to her husband, "I wish you would fix this window, so that it won't rattle at night."

"O, yes! I will," he answered. "It needs a wedge, doesn't it? Robert, run to the barn and get my new knife, which you'll find in the upper drawer of the tool-chest."

Poor conscious-stricken Robert! He fetched the broken knife, and when questioned, had to tell the whole story. When he had finished, his father said sternly, "Now let us look over what you have done. You have wilfully disobeyed me, and besides that, you have concealed your guilt as long as possible, in the hope of throwing the blame on some one else. You may go to your room, and stay till I give you leave to come down."

All the afternoon Robert spent alone in his room, and when every now and then ringing peals of laughter reached his ears from the room below, where Bessie and Laura Mason were having a good time together, he thought Bessie had forgotten him in his trouble and disgrace. But he was mistaken, for when Laura had gone home, and it began to grow dark, Bessie went to her father's study, and pleaded his cause in the paternal ear. "Poor Bob! He'll get so lonely, I'm afraid he'll throw himself out of the window, or do something dreadful.”

Robert was sitting by the window in his room when Bessie softly opened the door and said, "Are you here, Bob? It's so dark I can't see."

She drew a breath of relief at his dismal "Yes, of course.'

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"O, no, Rob, but you did give some real good advice," said Bessie mischievously. "Don't, Bess," pleaded Bob. "I am so ashamed of myself."

"Well, I won't ever say a word about it," she answered, and she kept her word; but Bob never forgot that Saturday's lesson.

Christmas Party-Christmas
Games.

PHAT a joyful time Christmas is. Well

do we recollect in the days of our boyhood how we used to look forward to the Christmas holidays. It is right for us to be glad at Christmas. We then commemorate our Saviour's advent into this world, and of all events this surely is to us the fullest of blessing. Most families have a little better dinner on Sunday than any other day in the week, and this too is quite right, for Sunday should be the brightest, gladdest day of the seven. But there is no dinner like the Christmas dinner, no fare like Christmas fare. It is very true that some persons at Christmas time become gluttons, and many sin against God, and against themselves, by their excessive drinking, but there is no necessity for this; neither does it prove that it is wrong to have a sort of feast at Christmas. Then besides the good fare, what pleasant parties there are, and what lots of games in the evenings. Besides the good fare and the games, many presents are given at this time. Santa Claus sends good children all sorts of things. When they waken on Christmas morning they find their stocking is filled with presents. Of course there is no Santa Claus, but it makes the surprise a little pleasanter, to pretend that presents come from Santa Claus.

But while we are enjoying ourselves very much, we should not forget those who are too poor to buy a little plum cake. There are