"I bequeath to my executor (or executors) the sum of ---- dollars, in trust, to pay the same in ---- days after my decease to the person who, when the same is payable, shall act as Treasurer of the 'American Missionary Association,' of New York City, to be applied, under the direction of the Executive Committee of the Association, to its charitable uses and purposes." The Will should be attested by three witnesses.
The Rooms of the American Missionary Association are now in the Bible House, New York City. Correspondents will please address us accordingly.
Visitors will find our Rooms on the sixth floor of the Bible House, corner Ninth Street and Fourth Avenue; entrance by elevator on Ninth Street.
Not long since Rev. R.S. Storrs, D.D., preached a sermon in his own pulpit, presenting the claims of the American Missionary Association for the annual collection in its behalf from the Church of the Pilgrims, Brooklyn, N.Y. This sermon appeared in print in one of the daily papers, and attracted the attention of a benevolent gentleman deeply interested in the Christian education of the colored people, who was so impressed with the great value of the address, that he has furnished the Association with the means to print a large edition for general circulation. This we have done, and we presume that already, many of our readers have had the opportunity of reading this eminently wise and timely utterance on one of America's greatest problems. Should any one desire an extra copy, we will gladly furnish it on application.
Although the discourse has had large circulation, we cannot resist the temptation to extract a few of its forcible utterances on some very important points.
Permanent popular liberties have their only sure foundation in sound moral conditions practically universal. We must secure these among those to whom we have given the ballot, and who are to be henceforth citizens with ourselves. Otherwise, we are building our splendid political house on the edges of the pestilential swamp from which fatal miasmatic odors are rising all the time. Yes, we are building our house on piles driven into the thick ooze and mud of the pestilential swamp itself. We are building our cities, which we think are so splendid, and which are so in fact, as men built Herculaneum and Pompeii, on a shore which ever and anon trembled with earthquake, over which was hung the black flag of Vesuvius, and down upon which rolled, in time, the lava floods that burned and buried them.