The New York Herald Newspaper, April 26, 1874, Page 10

1G NEW YORK HERALD BROADWAY AND ANE STREET. JAMES GORDON BENNETT, PROPRIETOR. All business or news letters and telegraphic despatches must be addressed New York Hunawp. Letters and packages should be properly sealed. Rejected communications will not be re- turned. LONDON OFFICE OF THE NEW YORK HERALD—NO. 46 FLEET STREET. Eubscriptions and Advertisements will be received and forwarded on the same terms as in New York. SEMENTS TO-NORROW. LYCEUM THEATRE, Fourteenth street, near Sixth avenue.—LA MARJO- Laine, at8 P.M; closes at 11 P.M. ‘place.—Strakosch SP. M.; cioses ini, Del “Puente, allan Opera Company—LOu E: gt FM. Bilson, Cary, Campan! M, EAST LYNNE, at POM; ch 2 4:30 P.M, , pT Slosee at Ww) PF. M* Sophie Miles, Gussie ‘de Forrest. nrane THEATRE, Se Broadway and Twe ‘ond street. —I ¥ Ne ANCE, at 8 P.M. ; clo: P.M. Charles Fechter. NIA THEATRE, near Irving place.—DER FECHTER at 8 P. M,; closesat ll P.M. Fanny DALY’S FIFTH AVENUE THEATRE, Twenty-eighth street and Broadway.—MONSIEUR ALPHONDS, at 8 P.M.; closes at 10:30 P.M. Miss Ada Byes Miss Fanuy Davenport, Bijou Heron, Mr. Fisher, xv. Clark. THEATRE COMIQUE, No. M4 Broadway.—\ARIKTY ENTSRTAINMENT, at 8 P.M, ; closes at 10:30 P. M. WALLACK’S THEATRE, Broadway and Thirteenth street.—THt) VETERAN, at 8 oy M. ; closes at ll P. M. Mr, Lester Wallack, Miss Jeffreys wis, MRS. CONWAY'S BROUKLYN THEATRE, Higehingvon, sircet. wear Fulton, street, Brooktyn.— THE WILLOW COPSE, at 8 P. M.; closes at Il P. M. Br. ©. W. Couldock. peste pete RTMPIC THEATER, Ht roadway. between Houston an ecker streets. — VAUDEVILLE and NOVELTY ENTERTAINMENT, at 7:45 P.M. ; closes at 10:45 P. M. GRAND OPERA HOUSE, Fighth avenue and Twenty-third street.—DON ALD McKAY, at8P. M.; closes at IP. M. Oliver Doud Byron. Broad poate) Washington" slace.—HUMPTY way, opposi oe DURPHY ar EUME ac, at8E M; closes ath Me te Fox. Sixth wee |e. Premenice street —THE ix! avenue, corner of renty-thil —" HUNCHBACK, at 8 P. M.; cloves at 10:45 P.M Mass el BOWERY THEATRE, Bowery.—MACBETH, at § P. M.; closes atll P.M. a ree O. way.—VA E: ~ 7:6 P. M. ; closes at 10:30 P.M. et Broad between Prince and Hour sti v, way, between Prince and Houston —VARI- Ery ENTERTAINMENT. ats P. M.; closes e100 en NEW PARK THEATRE, BROOKLYN. BLUE BEARD, at$P.M. Lydia Thompson Troupe. TONY PASTOR'S OPERA HOUS! No. 201 Bowery.—VARIETY ENTE ze: closes ‘at 5:30 P. M. iso at 8 P.M ; closes at li ‘Twenty-third ene ae iy ay eyEGR IN. -third street near = mue.—3 N. STRELSY, &c., at 8 P. M.; closes ati YM. pa, ROBINSON HALL, Sixteenth street.—ART KNTERTAINMENT, at 8 P. M. Broad f Thirty fit street. —LONDO ir way, corner ot irty-firel reet. — iN Terk at LP! Me; closes ato P.M Lon} etd? M. QUINTUPLE SHEET. New York, Sunday, April 26, 1874. & are that the weather to-day will be clearing. A New Casrz.—We rejoice toannounce the laying of a new cable between England and the United States. Every new cable strand across the ocean is another artery of life, ac- livity and friendship between the two countries. Axp Acam!—And now we hear from Bos- ton of a law case arising out of a druggist piving aconite as a remedy by mistake. From the effect of the dose the putient nearly died. The jury, we are glad to hear, gave the plain- tiff a verdict and fifteen thousand dollars damages. Axxansas.—The difficulty in Arkansas is in p simmering condition. One side has been making propositions to the other without any result, as it is evident neither of the contest- ants trusts the other. There seems no means to a settlement, as the general government | contents itself with compelling peace. So long Bs peace is preserved, we need care little | what results. The foul chimney will burn out in time, and the sooner it burns the better. A Pecormae Case.—A merchant was exam- ined before the Committee on Ways and Means yesterday, who testified to the payment of a thousand dollars to Judge Davis, when District Attorney. The circumstances under which the payment was made do not appear ; but although the tendency of the report is to sssail Judge Davis we are qnite sure there will be a full and prompt explanation from | the Judge. Tae Pourrican Srrvatioy.—As will be seen from our narrative this morning on the local | Political situation, we are rapidly coming upon the seething period which precedes a , local canvass. This yearly scramble for loaves and fishés is not a very elevating performance, but it is full’ of interest as a phase of Amer- ican character’ Even those of our readers who care nothing whatever for the results of the campaign will fim amusement in listen- Ang to the busy notes of preparation. Conoress Yesrenpay.—The House had a weet — LADY OF LYONS, at 8 | 1 | RTAINMENT, at 2:30 | Same at7P. M.; closes | NEW YORK HERALD, SUNDAY, APRIL 26, 1874.-QUINTUPLE SHEET. The Ideal Sabbath—Wershipping in Spirit and Worshipping im Spite. The average church-goer who wishes to be candid will scarcely dispute the fact that the demands too frequently made of him on the Sabbath threaten to convert that beneficent institution into a bore; and this we say mak- ing full allowance for the amiability of the kind of person of whom we are speaking. He is willing to go through a moderate number of religious forms, to attend church once on Sunday, and even to endure perhaps some slight curtailment of that elaborate dinner which appeals to his palate during the week. Further concessions it is difficult to wring from him. His piety is not of that ascetic kind which prefers the dinner of herbs to the stalled ox, even when graced with that affec- tional accompaniment which Solomon praises. He has not yet a sufficient eye to the beauty of holiness, and we detect the old Adam latent within him as we detect the tiger in the cat. Had he lived in the Middle Ages he would have believed more in indulgences than in penance, and considered the right to sin, which he had bought and paid for, a sufficient atonement for fature faults. With him good intentions are all in all, softening the harsh accents of original sin, and acting like a moral cedilla placed beneath the consonant of crime. He is as fond of comfort as a boy is of bird- nesting or a coquette of conquest, and gazes upon the chiaroscuro of human character as an amateur looks ata landscape by Claude, and not as a moral student vitally interested in the lesson to be gleaned. With this disposition the Sabbath duties sometimes laid upon him by zealous rela- tives come rather hard. He is willing to listen with a good grace to one commonplace sermon ; but they insist that he shall swallow ; two. They thrust upon him devotions which David assumed out of choice, and morning and evening and at noon expect to find him at the altar. They plume themselves on their fidehty to him, and in evidence of their faith- | fulness he may be said to be covered with the wounds of his friends. The harmless epi- | cureanism of his nature rebels against a mar- | tyrdom like this, and, shaking off a sense of the actual Sunday, constructs for itself an ideal Sabbath, the Sabbath of the future. Let us inquire what this Sabbath is. Fancy presents it to us as bright as a new desire and as fresh as the wings of the morn- ing. The shadows are as sacred as theshadow of death when it falls on green pastures and still waters, and its atmosphere as sweet as the sleep of the laboring man and as quiet as the | grace which is given to the lowly. And the panorama which a more practical view dis- cerns is almost equally pleasant in its way. Unfolding it slowly, men of religious genius are seen in pulpits where Dr. Platitude and Bishop Palaver are expounding now, and the demonstrations of science come to the rescue of reason and the correction of faith. Sunday grows into a day in which men do not love church less for loving nature and innocent en- joyment more. It becomes the Great Sympa- thetic to the rest of the week, controlling the | secular arteries and temperature. Humanity has learned to worship in spirit, and has given up worshipping in spite. Mr. Lucre, as he drops a liberal donation into the box, no longer questions the solidity of the investment when reminded that ‘he that giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord,” and Mrs. Mammon has ceased to regard the sacred edifice as a convenient place for the study of millinery. All that is mean and low and piti- | ful has been weeded from public worship, and the influence of secret prayer fills the sanc- tuary with its pure and powerful magnetism. The innate spitefulness of human nature is rooted ont, and there stream instead the sweet flowings of mutual charity. Love reigns, strong as an ocean, tender as a tear. Humanity has ceased to be afraid of traditions and ignorant authority. The corner stone of progress, having long been hewn, mankind now prepare to foliate the capital. Such is the picture presented of the ideal Sabbath—a Sabbath when the number of times a man goes to church is not taken as the gauge of his piety, and when Religion forms one of a trio, with Rest and Recreation for her companions. It will be objected that this is a fancy sketch, none of the tints in which are borrowed, as We claimed, from practicality; but we insist that it is a sketch of what must one day be- | come actual if the present premises of some | of our most original and gifted religious and | scientific geniuses prove correct. It is sad to believe that a golden age has never existed | save in a poet's fancy; it were sadder to be- lieve that in no other fashion a golden age ever can exist. Is the actual Sabbath so very pleasant that | we should long to perpetuate it? Nothing is further from our desire than to make light of | any feeling which has love to God and man as its basis. We take off our hat to any character | whose foundation stone is the first and great | commandment, and whose rooftree is the | second, ‘Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thy- | self.” What we deplore is that these characters | are not more frequently one’s next-door neigh- bors, though probably one would find reasons for not speaking to them if they were. They are as impossible as the ten righteous for whom Abraham prayed. And even the few good men who are found are outshone by their own aspirations. Instead of being apples of gold in pictures of silver, they are apples of silver in pictures of gold. They do little to make the actual Sabbath what it might be. | It is not much to tell the poor that they | may hear the Gospel preached without money and without price, unless you tell them, too, that it may be heard without a fashion- able bonnet and new clothes to listen to it in. In the ideal Sabbath we are to have churches | | where the word of salvation can reach the poor as cheap as sunshine and the air; where merry session yesterday. Mr. Nesmith made | ministers shall blash to dress a silken senti- ® humorous speech at the expense of the At- ment in satin speech, and where Fashion shall torney General, and we are promised areport | be ashamed to go mincing to her pew while from Mr. Durham on the extravagance ot the Department of Justice. This led to a debate qbetween Mr. Durham and Mr. Garfield of a | Yvory small and trifling character, and 8 further debate between Mr. Fernando Wood, Mr. Wheeler, Mr. Hoar and others, Mr. Nesmith verging to the edge of blasphemy | in his effort to make a witty point. We agree with Mr. Williams, of Wisconsin, that the whole objection to the Attorney General's carriage is a small business. Mr, Phelps made a speech more serious than some of the comic efforts with which he convulses the House at times. Pending the discussion the House adjourned. rags and wretchedness are at the temple's | gate. Possibly some such thought as this may <have occurred to him who has strolled along Firth avenue of a Sabbath noon and watched the troops of well-dressed worshippers. You see plenty of the tailor and the dressmaker, but what has become of the spiritual man? Is there any great-heartedness among all that small talk? The sm.shine is so crowded with the shadows cast by iashion that there is scarcely room for the shadow of the cross. Where will you find the spirixtality of wor- ship? With the turned-down leaf ov,the hymn book reposing in its rack? failings as well as the rich; and indulge too largely in unwise delights. But stolen waters are not always sweet, and bread eaten in secret is sometimes as hard as Pharaoh’sheart. The prodigal of low degree grows disgusted with his Sunday carousal, and discovers that the cheap wine he drank, like the hand that warned Belshazzar, has no body to it. But have we not reason to hope that this feature of the actual Sabbath will disappear in time, and that a better-ordered, more evenly-balanced being will take its place? Will not the idea of a better life gradually steal into the heart of the rowdy and the loafer and spur his potential good into development? The ideal Sabbath can never grow actual before some such evolution has taken place. And in order to help this result we need less effemi- nacy in our religious youth. To insure ster- ling and solid results piety in young men must be virile. They must not merely weep over lost Jerusalems, but ply the scourge of small cords when occasion serves, The man of God must be a man of muscle if he would convince the ruffian of the error of his ways. We do not cherish the expectation that the ideal Sabbath will quickly be realized; but to believe that it is on its way, and that we can all help its progress a little, serves to beguile and ease the present. We shall be none the worse or weaker now for looking forward to a time when humanity's eyes shall be full of gladness because its heart is full of hymns, Mr. Delmonico’s Soup Kitchens. The card we print this morning from Mr. L. Delmonico will have a double interest. In the first place we learn how thoroughly and conscientiously an important work of charity committed to his care has been managed, and in the second place we have also the most gratifying fact that the necessity for the work is over. We are now entering upon a season of more than usual prosperity. The hardness of the winter is broken, and spring, which is said to bring life, sunshine and desire, will, we aresure, bring opportunities for honorable industry and enable our poor to have their share in the enjoyment of the manifold com- forts of life. One thing seems to be very clearly demonstrated, and it is that indi- gence in New York, except in a few cases, is not a custom but a misfortune, There are no more industrious people in the world than a large part of those who were compelled to ac- cept the aid of Mr. Delmonico and of other almoners during the past winter. The people of New York are under many obligations to Mr. Delmonico for the manner in which he has performed the work assigned to him. His success shows, too, that when any task of magnitude is to be done those who control large interests are best fitted to do it. Mr. Delmonico, as our readers well know, is in charge of the largest business of his kind in America, and perhaps in the world, and to have undertaken the novel and perplexing work of organizing and managing a system of soup houses all over New York was really an annoyance and an interference with his ordi- nary business. But he regarded it as a duty, charity demanded by the sudden appearance of unusual and widespread suffering. We can bear witness that he took as much pains to serve the thousands of poor who came to him for aid as he would have taken to provide fes- tivities for all of his patrons on Fifth avenue and Murray Hill. We entirely concur with Mr. Delmonico in what he says about the police. They are the natural custodians and monitors of any charity of this kind. We trust we may not again have the same reason for administering a charity as existed during the past winter. But we certainly think that the whole subject should receive careful examination, and that some plan should be matured so that, in the event of a recurring season of suffering and want, all the charitable agencies of New York may unite on a common basis of action. “Im Press.” We discussed at some length the other day the too self-evident proposition that some of our publishers are disposed to be only repub- lishers. That article was based on what was then the latest official announcements to the trade of books ‘‘in press’’ and ostensibly to be published by the houses making them. Since that time other announcements have followed, of which that of a Boston house is the most remarkable. This list includes sev- enteen titles—‘‘Webs of Love,” ‘Disin- terred,” ‘‘The Thorntons of Thornbury,” “A Rose in June,” ‘Shakespeare Commentaries,”’ “Old Acquaintance,’’ ‘‘Swiss Allemands,” ‘In- gram Place,”’ ‘Claude Meadowleigh,” ‘Victor and Vanquished,” “Young Mr. Nightingale,”’ “Conquered at Last,” ‘Sweet, Not Lasting,” “Shingleborough Society,” ‘Johnny Lud- low,” ‘‘Patricia Kemball’’ and ‘Gentianella.”’ It will be noted that this programme contains nothing of a startling character, no one book of peculiar brilliancy and originality. Neither New England nor New York is waiting with breathless impatience for any of the works thus announced. In themselves they have no interest, and we should not refer to them at all but for the principle which underlies their announcement. Having already discussed the tendency of our publighers to be content with being merely republishers, a tendency of which these announcements are the best in- dex, we desire to call attention to anothor | phase of the question, even more painful than the mere disposition to reissue Eng- lish books. This phase is well illus trated by tbe list of books we have quoted. Out of the seventeen books thus | announced, it is possible that two or three may prove acceptable to the critics, or, what is better still, to the multitude of readers who wait with avidity for a new novel with even a little freshness in it. Asa matter of course it is not intended that books which prove unsuc- cessful in England are to be reissued here; but those which prove successful there will be immediately republished in this country— | English, perhaps, in everything except the imprint. Thus not only is done a double wrong, a wrong to American writers and another wrong to American workmen, print- ers, binders and paper makers, but a system . is established for the promotion of appropri- ation in foreign copyright. Long lists of books are announced as ‘‘in press,” when there is no intention to republish any of them unless a chance that popularity in England should make the republication a paying in- vestment in this country. Then, all other poachers having bees wartted off, the game will belong to the fortunate huntmzan who first scented it. But there are curiosities of than our own “in press’? method of wholesale appropriation. A recent instance is that of Dr. Holland’s ‘Arthur Bonnicastle,” which was republished by a London house, who soon afterwards discovered that the book was made copyright by means of several chapters published in that country before their appear- ance in the United States. The self-constituted publishers immediately withdrew the copy- righted chapters, and, having some ninety introductory pages written to their order, published the whole as Dr. Holland’s novel. Nothing could better illustrate the evil effects of the whole system of disregarding author's tights. While we condemn such a flagrant violation of fair dealing as is exhibited in this transaction we cannot regard the announce- ment system in this country as less pernicious in its effects upon literature on both sides of the Atlantic. Are We as Bad as We Seem? In a recent poem, written by James Russell Lowell on the death of Agassiz, we have a few lines which are commanding more than ordi- nary attention: — I scanned the festering news we half despise, Yet scramble for no less, And read of public scandal, private fraud, Crime flaunting scot tree while the mob applaud, Ofice made vile to bribe unworthiness And all the unwholesome meas, The Land of Broken Promise serves of late ‘fo teach tae Old Worid how to wait. Mr. Lowell has been abroad for some time and naturally takes what might be called an expatriated view of affairs, Life abroad is not without its attractions to the average Ameri- can mind, especially after it has recovered from its yearning for green corn and oysters and becomes reconciled to a breakfast without hot bread. It has been said that among the advantages of living abroad is that the Ameri- can sees in America a country a great deul larger and a great deal smaller than it ap- peared when at home. In other words, it does not show the ripeness, the culture and the op- portunities of the older countries, while, on the other hand, it does show the possibilities of a future such as no other nation in the | world possesses. What, however, is sure to arrest the attention of the American abroad is what Mr. Lowell calls the ‘festering news.” The traveller, as he pauses for a day near Chamounix or Kil- larney to read the file of New York news- papers and tie up the threads that have snapped between himself and home, is apt to be startled with the “revelations” and ‘‘ex- posures” and “investigations” that cram the party journals. Names he has been taught to revere are sullied. Honorable and gifted men who have served the country well are dragged in the mire. Tho chief magistrates of his country, his State and his town are vilified in words that would be repulsive toa drab. Take the current of reading and com- ment and illustration that ran through the last campaign for the Presidency. The American found that the President of his country, the first citizen and first soldier of the day, and the representative ot his nation’s dignity, was a boor, a sot, the stable companion of jockeys, whose highest amusement was to toy with bulldogs. He found, also, that the statesmen who surrounded the President and sustained him in council and administration were men of grovelling tastes and corrupt, that some had been bought with the Spanish gold, while others were known to be in the habit of robbing the Treasury to pay their current expenses. -On the other hand, he learned that an honored and illustrious citizen, who had lived sixty years of a blameless life and who had won the affections of his country- men by his services in the cause of humanity and his purity of character, was, after all, the friend of assassins, the secret supporter of se- cession, the partner of Tweed in his robberies and the responsible cause of the crimes of Andersonville. The result such a reading would make upon the mind of the wayfaring American is precisely what it made upon the minds of the American people. They elected the calumniated Grant by an over- whelming majority and they honored the slan- dered Greeley with the highest honors ever paid to an illustrious man, We have too much of what might be called “festering news’’ in our journals. But we think Mr. Lowell makes a grave error when he speaks of “crime flaunting scot free while the mob applaud,” and of “‘office made vile to bribe unworthiness.’’ In our country we speak of things which are not discussed in Europe. We indulge a frankness of comment and cen- sure which surprise our friends abroad and cre- ate wrong impressions. We exercise a rigid supervision over our public servants. Subjects are discussed with us which are never men- tioned in the European press, The Prince of Wales (if we may make the illustration without offence) might lead a life like his ancestors George IV. and Charles IL, and there is not a journal in England that would ever allude to him except in the terms befitting gracious majesty. But no American President could lead such a life and remain in office six months. One of the most gifted and honored judges now on the English Bench is known to have led a personal life that would never be tolerated in one of our judges. Look at the process of analysis and scrutiny through which a candidate must pass before he passes the Senate. There isno such process abroad, and if Mr. Disraeli were to resolve to appoint a man resembling Attorney General Williams to the Court of Queen's Bench there is no power and no public opinion that could prevent him. We had, we admit, the scandalous Tweed domination; but we put Tweed in jail. Tweed ‘was no more than Walpole and the Pelhams, who died honored noblemen of England. We should be sorry also to think that Amer- ica, with all its faults, is ‘‘the Land of Broken Promise.” We must remember that nothing 80 weakens the public morals as a continuous and exhausting war. History shows that war is always followed, as it were, by @ moral pestilence, by speculation, rise in values and false ideas of wealth and prosperity. All of this we have gone through and much more remains. We believe in the future. We have men in office who are not ideal statesmen, perhaps, and we have our own smusement in denouncing them. But are we so much worse than the fathers? Remember that Hamilton wrote a pamphlet to vindicate himself from the charge of peculation by admitting that he had dis- honored his own home and tho home of an- other. Remember, too, the scandals which even Thomas Moore did not hesitate to write about Jefferson. We may be told of Schuyler Colfax as a monument of dishonor and shame; Doubtless the voor have their Sabbath | copyright in England even more remarkable | put then, think of Aaron Burr! We aro not | peculiarly a “Gift of Love'’—His Son Jesus an ideal perfect people, not what we should be—but we have abundant faith in the pres- ent, and hope that after all we are not so bed a8 we seem, Preaching and Practising. There are about three hundred and fifty churches in New York, with sittings for nearly or quite three hundred thousand people. This is a very creditable exhibit so far as architecture is concerned. It shows con- clusively enough that there is sufficient moral energy concentrated in the churches to regu- late public opinion on all matters of social importance, if it is earnestly and properly used. But the Church is asleep most of the time, and the world is wide awake all the time. The churches make believe in religion and the world really believes in business. The consequence is that the business force of the community is to the moral force as ten to one. If the men of wealth and social position, who regularly attend divine worship and nod their sleepy amens to every dull point of the ser- mon, would wake up and go to work they would be backed by the people who sit in the side pews or hide in the gallery, and by their combined efforts two-thirds of the iniquity of this city could be abolished before the summer solstice. The criticism which the confessed man of the world makes on the church-goers is at once just and sharp. They are perfectly will- ing to sit in the shade, under the elm trees in the vineyard, but if there is any hard work to be done the Lord must hire some one else. Indeed, they keep so very shady about their religion that it is not easy to find out if they have any. They pray from their pews on Sun- day and prey on their neighbors all the rest of the week. There is about as much human nature in the Church as there is out of it. People are very willing to listen and very un- willing to act. It is one thing to shout “Glory, hallelujah !’’ and quite another thing to manufacture the raw material in one’s business. It is easier to make a long prayer than an honest bargain. Here is a matter which we have looked at from the standpoint of social economy many times and never yet found any satisfactory solution. No one doubts that three hundred thousand church-going people can com- mand votes enough and political influence enough to shape this city according to their own will, and yet they not only fail to do it, but seem to be actually afraid to undertake it. They groan about evil and they pray for power to subdue it, and then, instead of keeping on the watch for the answer, they regard it asa foregone conclusion that they will get it, | and anon fall to fighting among themselves about the number of gallons of water it takes to baptize a man properly, or about the right of a woman to preach in their pulpits. We once saw a big boy who had been sent into the pasture to drive the cows home, There were at least a dozen cattle, any one of which might have been cut up into three or four big boys. They were entirely ignorant of their power, however, which fact was the basis of the boy’s courage, and its only basis. He picked up a huge stick, yelled with all his might and rushed at them as though he were about to annihilate every one of them. They demurely fell into line and marched with solemn faces, as though they belonged to an oppressed race, towards the barnyard. If those cows had turned on the big boy he would have dropped his club and made tracks for the nearest fence. As it was, he was afraid of them, and they were atraid of him; but he knew their fear and they did not know his. The churches—let us not be irreverent—are like that herd of cows. They grumble all the time at the world which, in the comparison, is only a small boy with a big club, and do not dare to attack it. If they would once lower their horns and show fight there would be such a scattering and such a clambering over fences as we have seldom seen. Let the three hundred and fifty churches recognize their power to control instead of their right to squabble, and make a dead set at one evil after another and we shall soon have such a clean city that half the politicians and ring-masters will go West. Less clatter and more march are what is wanted just now. To-Day’s Pulpit Topics. The topics chosen by the pastors for their meditation to-day are almost wholly of a doc- trinal or practical kind. They relate to God and His attributes and His Word, or to man in his relation to God and to his fellow men. Mr. Hepworth will tell the Church of the Disciples this morning ‘Why I Believe in God and in Christ”—the declaration which & few years ago created sucha sensation in the Church of the Messiah, and which has kept it since in a more or less unsettled state. | He will tell his people some things about “Common Honesty’’ in the evening—a topic which many people in this town and time seem to know or think very little about. It is not every man who can find his sphere in this life or, having found it, can fill it properly and faithfully, but that it is the Christian duty of every man having found his sphere to fulfil it will not be denied. Dr. Samson will expound and enforce this | truth this morning to the First Baptist church of Harlem. ‘The Sin of Eden’’~ | presumed to be disobedience, the first and foremost sin of all men in all ages—will re- ceive consideration from the Doctor this even- ing. Transgression deserves condemnation and obedience commendation. Hence good- ness and severity are attributes of God as well | as of men, and on these attributes the Rev. E. | C. Sweetser will discourse this morning. God has given us many gifts, but one is | Christ, who came o ransom into the world. | The Rev. Mr. Baker will tell the Church of the Messiah, Brooklyn, this evening, some- thing about this gift of God’s love. And the pastor of the Catholic Apostolic church here will demonstrate that the Word of God is a living word--a proposition that probably no one disputes. The’ duty of pra‘se to God for His loving kindness, which is better than life, is not sufficiently enforced from the pulpits nor practised by believers, And yet itis one of the most important and spiritual duties that a Christian can perform. It will there- fore receive consideration this morning by Rev. Dr. Ganse, “The Difficulties of Unbelief”’ are many and great. They are much more numerous and formidable than those that beset or surround falling clouds lowering over us ; but faith lifts the clouds. Dr. Miller will tell his Baptist congregation how those falling clouds may be lifted and the light of the Sun of Righteous- ness shine into souls that are darkened and oppressed by guilt and sin. If we have emotions and sensations in th> fature life at all akin to those that we have here we shall probably have religion there as well as here. But religion in this life or in the after life is and must be devotion to God and to Christ. There is little use, however, in speculating on it or in getting ourselves into spiritual trances to tell things about it, as Mr. L. C. Howe proposes to do to-day. Those things have been better said and written already. Mr. Parry will introduce his Baptist auditors this morning to ‘The River of God,”” where they can slake their spiritual thirst, and probably where also he can roam in imagina- tion O’er the sweet fields on the banks of the river, And sing of salvation for ever and ever, Houses vs. Homes. In great cities like New York it seems to be impossible for people of ordinary means to havea home. The rich can have a palatial residence, the poor can have a garret, but the man of small income and growing family can find no place in which to establish himself comfortably. We have houses thirty feet wide for the millionnaire, and other houses ip the same block fifteen feet wide for the man who is willing to spend all he has rather than not live on the avenue, but ne dwelling place for those who are just beginning life or wip are trying to make both ends meet on the salary of a clerk or the moderate profits of ordinary business. Matters are becoming more complicated every year. The class that gives health and stresgth to city politics are compelled to live a few miles in the country, while the nine-o’clock-in-the-evening popula- tion consists of the rich, the determined-to- appear rich and that vast cruwd of the un- kempt who are like soft clay in the hands of shrewd and wily office seekers, While we complain of the irregularities of business life, by which mild word we are accustomed to designate some of the worst crimes, we forget that the folk who commit them have had their moral consciousness low- ered to zero by the customs and usages of society. The thousands of clerks who pour into the city every year come from comforta- ble and happy homes. They do not alight as birds of prey, or with any predetermined plan to rob their employers, or to live a fast life. They come with honest intentions and with a laudable ambition. But the moment they reach the city they find themselves cut adrift from every healthful influence. Their only substitute for a home is an uncomfortable hall bedroom in the fifth story of some overfilled boarding house. The Christian Association takes no pains to hunt them up, for it has grown rich enough to become indifferent to that kind of work. The churches af- ford no shelter, for young men are left to cool themselves in the ves- tibule, while the exclusive and fashionable worshippers slam their pew doors with such emphasis that even the most obtuse under- stand that only those who carry gilt-edged prayer books are welcome, and that though the Gospel is preached to the poor it is not preached to the poor of that particular neigh- borhood. ‘hey cannot marry and begin life one small scale, because rents are too high in the first place, and, in the second place, be- cause girls are very carefully taught that though love is very romantic, bullion is very tangible, and that it is better to have money without love than to have love with- out money. They won’t even nod to @ young man who has not lavender kids and a gold-headed cane, If he is the fortunate owner of these necessary pre- requisites to an entrée into good society no one will ask or care how he came by them. It is quite enough that he has them. If he can only manage to drive a tandem team, all houses are thrown open to him, and sly hints are dropped from the painted lips of mamma that Mary Jane would never think of saying no if he should present her with his heart, his hand and his unpaid bills. The most genial companionship he can find—and companionship of some kind he must have—is of that questionable character which augurs ill for his future. He can drop into the well-lighted drinking saloon and find a welcome so long as he has Mr. Spinner’s signature in his vest pocket. The trapdoor of every gambling house swings on its well-oiled hinges, and he can eat cold duck and spend his money to his heart’s content. When this is all gone, and he abstracts a few dollars from the safe of the firm, he is sent to Sing Sing as an ungrateful wretch, and his once possible career is ended in darkness. The clergyman of the immaculate necktie uses him for a Sun- day morning's text, deplores the immorality of the times during forty minutes of fashion- able stupidity, sighs in an asthmatic sort of way and then visits the treasurer to draw his dues. As a matter of political economy and social progress these facts demand attention. New York can’t afford to lay traps, and then punish those who fall into them. Neither can it afford to neglect any means by which the general integrity may be preserved. Men are not made saintly by the ordinary diet or ac- commodations of the boarding house. We want more home life, and in order to make this possible our domestic architecture must undergo a change. A dozen large buildings, in good locations and with reasonable rentals, 80 divided as to afford accommodations for small families, would do more just now for moral reform in New York than the same number of fashionable churches, with fashion- able and high-priced ministers. We have Gospel enough for the present, in printed form, but not enough in the shape of honest and independent living. A little less preaching about reform, and a little more practical application of it, would produce a healthy if not a startling change. Mul- tiply our homes and you multiply the moral energy of society. Give the men of this city a suit of comfortable apartments, with a rental not too exhaustive, and you — not only offer an incentive to matri- mony—which, as a mere matter of political economy, is of vast importance—but, by re- moving a long list of subtle temptations, you add to the moral stability, the business integ- rity and the domestic happiness of the community. A man’s financial credit as well simple faith, as Dr. Murray will show this evening. With unbelief we are liable to have as his character improves when he has a home of his own, and a man's credit suffers if he ia