may be broken on the rocks, or damaged by the wave that sweeps clear across the hurricane deck; or that the gold gamblers may, that very hour, be plotting some monetary revolution, or the burglars be prying open his safe, or his debtors fleeing the town, or his landlord raising the rent, or the fires kindling on the block that contains all his estate. Easy! is it?  God help the merchants!  It is hard to have the palms of the hand blistered with out-door work; but a more dreadful process when, through mercantile anxieties, the brain is consumed!

In the next place we notice mercantile lies, those before the counter and behind the counter.  I will not attempt to specify the different forms of commercial falsehood.  There are merchants who excuse themselves for deviation from truthfulness because of what they call commercial custom.  In other words, the multiplication and universality of a sin turns it into a virtue.  There have been large fortunes gathered where there was not one drop of unrequited toil in the wine; not one spark of bad temper flashing from the bronze bracket; not one drop of needle-woman’s heart-blood in the crimson plush; while there are other great establishments in which there is not one door-knob, not one brick, not one trinket, not one thread of lace, but has upon it the mark of dishonor.  What wonder if, some day, a hand of toil that had been wrung, and worn out, and blistered until the skin came off, should be placed against the elegant wall-paper, leaving its mark of blood,—­four fingers and a thumb; or that, some day, walking the halls, there should be a voice accosting the occupant, saying, Six cents for making a shirt; and, flying the room, another voice should say, Twelve cents for an army blanket; and the man should try to sleep at night, but ever and anon be aroused, until, getting up on one elbow, he should shriek out, Who’s there?

There are thousands of fortunes made in commercial spheres that are throughout righteous.  God will let his favor rest upon every scroll, every pictured wall, every traceried window; and the joy that flashes from the lights, and showers from the music, and dances in the children’s quick feet, pattering through the hall, will utter the congratulation of men and the approval of God.

A merchant can, to the last item, be thoroughly honest.  There is never any need of falsehood.  Yet how many will, day by day, hour by hour, utter what they know to be wrong.  You say that you are selling at less than cost.  If so, then it is right to say it.  But did that thing cost you less than what you ask for it?  If not, then you have lied.  You say that article cost you twenty-five dollars.  Did it?  If so, then all right.  If it did not, then you have lied.  Suppose you are a purchaser.  You are “beating down” the goods.  You say that that article, for which five dollars is charged, is not worth more than four.  Is it worth no more than four dollars?  Then all