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THREE DOLLARS FEE ANNUM. VOL. XXXIII. NO. 27. ConirMims. Our Similar Schools. Tlio present period of Sunday-school his tory in this country, may be justly styled, the era of Sunday-school revival. Within a few years past, there has been a wonderful awakening all through the land, on the Sunday-school question. Conventions have been called, institutes have been organized, celebrations and festivals havo been held, addresses have beon delivered, articles have been written, until very many of the people have not only beon appealed to, bnt aroused —old schools have beeu re organized and re-juvenatcd, and new schools havo been formed, along the “highways,” and in tho “byways.” Nor is there np to this timo, any diminution of interest, or decrease of effort. All classes, all ages, and denomina tions througliont the land vie with each other in the glori ons race for Sunday-school precedence. So momentous did the subject appear to our last General Conference, that, that body of wise and faithful ministers and laymen liestowed no small amount of thonght, and labor, and as wo Itelieve not a little prayer, on this single item, and final ly inaugurated anew state of things which we heartily pray may give a tremendous im petus to the interest. All this is good, very good, and wo are justified in looking for an increase of power and inflncnco in the ma chinery of this glorious enterprise of the Church. Permit mo, just here, to propound a ques tion, for the serious consideration of all Hunday-school votaries every whero. Is the Sunday-school realty as profitable as see think it is ? With all onr increased facilities, and brightening prospects, is tho Hunday-school doiug tho work it is designed to do, and to the extent we think ? The object of tho Bunday-sohool is to bring tho children nnder the influence of the gospel, and to bring them into tho Church. Now w r e ask is the Hunday-school doing this ? Is it not mani fest that in many places the children are be ginning to look on the Sunday-school as something ontirely separate from the church, and in its organization, and maintenance, designed for their recreation, rather than as a part of the chnrcb, and instituted, and kept up os a means of bringing them into union therewith? Soe how many of our Hunday-school children make it a regular practice, especially, in the towns and cities, to return homo just so soon as tho exercises of the Hunday-school close. Instead of re maining at tho chnrcli, to engago in the worship of God with their parents, and the church, which wo profess to bo fitting them for in tho Hunday-school, they go homo to spend tho remainder of tho day in plays and games, utterly oblivious of the fact that it is the Sabbath day, or, that they are the children of the chnrcli. Is not this the practice of a majority of tho Hunday-school scholars in tho towns and cities, where the Hunday-schools are held in the morning ? How many sermons do sorno of our most puuctual and faithful .Hunday-school chil dren hear through the year? In truth, it. is alarming to notice liow few of tho Sun * day-school children attend the preaching of the word; Yet they are Sunday-school scholars —members of that institution which we so proudly assert, is about to revolu tionize society, and yield qnite a harvest of faithful souls to the Church. Tho Sunday school ought to bring the children under the influence of the gospel, and influence them to be religious. If it does not do this, does it do any good whatever ? Pv. W. D. The Late Key. E. U. (iage. When the heart is oppressed by a sudden bereavement, and we look around in vain, (or one on whom we fondly leaned for help and comfort, in onr time of anguish, there is some danger of over estimating the treasure which lias been removed from ns, or of saying more than prudence would war rant. But we can scarcely- do so, in speak ing of the loss which this community- has sustained in the death of our late esteemed pastor, Rev. £. G. Gage. Instant in and out of season also, in the Church, the Snnday-school, and the place at large, daring the short time in which he went in and ont among us, ho endeared himself to all hearts, and when it became known that God in his Providence had re moved him from his earthly to his Heavenly home, all denominational feeling appeared to be absorbed in the keen senso of the common loss whioh had befallen the com munity; for in doing his Master’s will, he knew no sect, but served readily and cheer fully every one who asked for, or who need ed his ministrations. How glorious Ito be taken right out of the earthly field where he was labouriug so diligently, up to the Celestial country, Jerusalem the Golden, where he reaps the reword of his faithfulness. For him, there can be no regrets, bnt for the desolate family, the bereaved churob, what shall comfort them ? To the God of all grace we commend them, praying Him to sustain them by His grace, and comfort them as He only can com fort, and may this sad stroke be sanctified to them and to the Church at large. ** * GranUeviUe, S. C., June 20, 1870. From the Baltimore Episcopal Methodist. Letter from Dr. Bledsoe. Dr. Poisaii —Dear Sir: Several things have, of late, appeared in varions periodicals in relation to The Southern Review and my self, which have given, rise to no little mis apprehension on the part of many persons, and which, it seems to me, should be ex plained and corrected. The best way to correct the misapprehensions to, and which tin set me at every turn, is, per haps, to give a narrative of all the facts and circumstances pot of a partial and imperfect view of which they have arisen. I have now conducted, as is well known to a few persons, The Southern Review for three years and a half, in the. ojty of Balti more. The editorial department of the Review, which alone belongs to an editor in anything like favorable circumstances, has not only been a labor of love to me, bnt one of intense delight. Bat the business de partment, with which no editor should be troubled, and for which I have no taste, has boeiLthe source of immense annoyance and discomfort to me. The supervision of ar ticßiWfe-they pass tipqpgh the press; the correction of proofs wfUi eyes already over tasked with the labor of reading and Writing; the demands made upon my time by the dishonesty, or negligence, or the-fail are, and disappearance, of agents; these, and many other things too tedious to mention, have rendered the business department of the Review an intolerable burden to mo. I re joice in the literary department; I absolutely abhor the business department. This has seemed too much for a brain already suffi ciently taxed with literary, scientific, and editorial labors. The conviction has, indeed, for some time, been forcing itself on my mind, that I must eitheagetrid of the busi nees department of the Review, with all its vexations and troubles, or else abandon the enterprise itself, as too much for me. But to abandon the Southern Review would be like the pang of death to me. Itis the child of my affections. I have made so many sac rifices for it; I have bestowed so many tears, and anxieties, and labors upon it; that I havo often said fio myselT, in the midst of my greatest troubles, “No! it shall not be abandoned! Como what will, the Southern Smew shall lie sustained!” But, after all, these “brave words” were only those of a poor weak creature; and only showed how great was the pressure of tho necessity on the one side. Hence I have felt, in my weakness, that the resolntion could hardly be carried out, w hile the business department of the Review continued to press on the other side, and grind me as between two mill-stones. How, then, to get relief from this nether mill-stone, from this hard and grinding ne cessity of the business department of the enterprise? The world lias, in fact, known little or nothing about its existence. Oth erwise, perhaps, the friends of the Booth, or at least some of them, would have afforded the desired relief by placing the business of the Review in such hands, and on such a basis, that tho editor, and other writers for its pages, might receive at least half pay for their labors. I have often thought of inukiug the state of the case known, with an appeal for such moderate relief; but although I have found it easy to think of such an appeal, I have found ibbnpossible to make it. In making tho above remarks, I wish to be distinctly understood. Money is not my object. lam willing to work for the Bouth; nay, I am willing to be the slavo of the South, bnt lam not willing to bo worked to death in sncli servitude, without some thing liko a reasonable compensation for my labor. lam not willing to bear all the burdens of the Southern Review, which is carried on not for my own benefit, but for tho great cause of truth, and justice and mercy. Will not 9ome friend or friends of the South, then, come to its assistance, and hold up my poor, feeble Lands, in a contest with tho mignty? I havo had tho offer of such assistance from tho far West. Long have I looked, and longed, and prayed, for sncli assistance; and, at last, it has seemed to appear in the great West. But it has ap peared, and lieen offered, on the condition, that I would remove the 'Southern Review to ono of her greatest and most beautiful cities; and I have entertained serious thoughts in favor of its acceptance. The chief obstacle in the way has hitherto been my disinclina tion to make another removal at my time of life, and, above all, my extreme reluctance to quit the city of Baltimore; which, to my mind, is tho most delightful place of aliode on the face of the globe. In ordor to avoid tho necessity of sncli a reipoval, I determined to try, in the first place, what could be done for the Review in Baltimore. With this desigu, I made known my views to a friend whom I have known intimately and valued highly for more than twenty years; and that friond was yonrsclf. I stated to yon that if I could only get the whole bittiness department of the Review taken off my hands, and heart, and brain, I would devote my timo and energy to its edi torial department for a small salary. (By “a small salary,” I meant not more than half the amount I lmd lieen offered in New York for loss.than linlf the labor as an editor.) Hnch, as yon aro aware, is tho proposition I mado to you; with which you wero much pleased. _ Especially in view of the reasons I as signed in favor of the proposition. In as signing these reasons, I then said, “.that I had, for some time, contemplated introduc ing a thological element into the Southern Review; and that this additional element will, I am sure, be agreeable to the Metho dist denomination. My Theodicy was pub lished by “tho Methodist Book Concern” in Now York; and has been read by all yofir Bishops and Clergy with entire approba tion; and that will be tho programme of the theology of tlie Review.. The ney element, theja, however varied or diversified in its ap plication to the books and topics of the day, will always be in accordance with my Theodicy and the sentiments of the Methodists. Thoy have already done far more for tho Review than any other body of Christians, a fact of which I am deeply sensible and for which I am profoundly grateful; and this additional feature will make it still more acceptable to them.” I promised, before wo separated, to re duce this statement to writifcg, and place it in your hands. Not having the. time to do so, before your departure for the General Conference at Memphis, I sent my written statement to you in a letter directed to that placo, to mnko such use of ns you might deem proper. lam profoundly grateful for the manner in which that letter was received by the Bishops, and other members of the General Conference; and also for tho high opinions they were pleased to express in favor of the letter, as well as in favor of my Theodicy and tho Southern Review. It is only of a piece with the generosity, which they have always shown to me, and to tho productions of my pen; ami I have no words in which to express my gratitude to them, for their uniform kindness and great gener osity of sentiment. I regret that I did not have an opportuni ty to converse with you in relation to the action of the General Conference, before their resolutions in regard to tho Southern Review were pul dished. 1 regret this, be cause it would have beon more agreeable to my feelings to talk the matter over in pri vate, and come to an understanding as to the resolutions, without the necessity of coming before the public on the subject. ' The resolutions do not accept my propo sition, or grant the relief I so much desired, that is, they do not take the business de partment of the Review off my hands. In making the proposition, I was satisfied, that with so many agencies for spreading the cir culation of tho Review, it would have been profitable to tho Methodist denomination. As I learn from yon my friends in the Gen eral Conference believed tho same thing, and wishod mo to have all tho emoluments of th a Review, while they promised to do all in their power to push it into a wider circu lation. While lam truly grateful for their kind attentions, I cannot forget, that I prayed for relief, and not for money; or that the business department of the Review still hangs over my head. By tho first resolution, ono of the terms proposed to me is, that all party, politics shall be left out of the Southern Review. I do not exactly know what this resolution means. I was not aware, indeed, that there ever had been, in the proper sense of the word, any party politics in the Review. No one, I suppose," has ever suspectod me of being a radical; and as to the old ante bellum parties—the Whigs and Democrats— I do not belong to cither; and os long as I do live, I hope to belong to the living, and not to the dead. In the course of a long life, I have studied political philosophy a good deal, in all the great masters from Aris totle down to, Montesquieu, and my own views are very decided; especially in regard to the political justice of the great struggle between the North and the Sontb. If, by party politics, is meant the sectional poli tics of the country, I admit the Review is alive with them; and I cannot consent to remain silent, while I see, as IMi eve I do, the cause of innocence, and justice, and troth, trampled under foot by the mighty and tiie unscrupulous, who still pnrsue their vanquished foes with a mean and unmanly vengeance. The asperity of feeling occa sioned by the war has, it is true, been great ly softened down, in my mind, by the mel lowing influence of time, and by the kind ness shown me by many of our late enemies; bnt my prinmples are the same, as unchang ed and as unchangeable as the son. Ido not suppose, for a moment, that the authors of the resolution in question, either expect ed or wished that I should change” any of my opinions in regard to the merits of the late war; but if they did not mean that I should, at least,, henceforth remain silent in regard to them, I cannot soe any occasion for the resolution itself. And .yet I can hardly believe that this was their meaning, so utterly inconsistent does it seem with their well-known sentiments and practice. Isuspect, indeed, that the object and de sign of the resolution, is as yet, hnknown to me. At all events, I cannot consent to aeoept any terms, or to come under any ob ligation, whioh may even seem, in the eyas of the world, inconsistent with a free, full, and perfect utteranee'nf soul in regard to the late war. I had no desire to speak, sneh a self-imposed or voluntary ob ligation, would be irksome to me, not to say intolerable; at least while the batteries of the North are continually belching forth their flames against the South. If, how ever, it he the will of the Methodist Epis copal Church, South, that all questions of sectional Controversy should be dropped, I am prepared to co-operate most heartily with them in such desire, provided the Methodist Episcopal Church, North, will do the same. If they will agree to spike then guns, or turn- them away from the South, we should hail the event as the anspicous dawn of a bettor era for “tho land we love.” The second resolution stipulates, that the Southern Review shall advocate the doctrines of tho Methodist Episcopal Church, South. This condition was, in fact, virtually the basis of my preposition to the General Con ference. For nearly thirty years, the doc trines of tho Methodist Episcopal Clmrch havo appeared to mo much nearer tho truth, than those of any other denomination un der the sun; an advantage which it pos sesses, perhaps, because it was organized two centuries later than the others. During these centnries, tho Christian world had outgrown many of its most serions errors, and John Wcsloy profited by its advanced and improved condition. Hence, tho very Articles of tlio Church of England, and of the Protestant Episcopal Church of this country, which are no longer tenable, and which most of its very ministers have long sinoe ceased to believe, are not to be found in the creed of his followers. That creed is, in my opinion, a revised and corrected edition of tho “XXXIX. Articles.” Indeed, after long and careful study, I had rejected from my own. mind the XVIL Article, and oortain parts of the IX. Article, before I knew that they formed no portion of the creed of tho Methodists. Greatly did I re joice, then, and do still rejoice, that there is so large a body of Christian men in the world as the Episcopal Methodists, with whom I can, and do, so nearly agree in re gard to the doctrines of the Christian reli gion. Otherwise I could not possibly advo cate them; for I can advocate nothing, ab solutely nothing, unless it appears to me to bo the truth. Tho fourth resolntion, (the third requires no further allusion,) stipulates so acceptance by Dr. Bledsoe of an Editorial Committee, to bo appointed by tho College of Bishops, and to be associated with him in conducting tho Theological Department." I should most assuredly have rejected this proposition, if I had not known who were tho persons to servo on the Committee. Bat tho gentlemen appointed aro Bishop Doggett, Prof. F. H. Smith, of the University of Vir ginia, and the Rev. A. W. Wilson. No gen tlemen could be named, who would be more perfectly agreeable to tho Editor of the Southern Review. For more than twenty years, I have known Bishop Doggett as a high-toned gentleman, and nn accomplished scholar, and as a most agreeable companion. I should be proud to bo associated with him in any relation of life. As for Professor Hmith, so many years one of my colleagues in the University of Virginia, I havo long known him as a man of genius, as an able, as a profound mathematician, and a fine classical scholar. In every department of physical science, ho is, indeed, the most boautiful and instructive lecturer 1 have over listened to, ns well as in social life one of the most genial and delightful compan ions I havo ever known. I havo not tho honor of a personal acquaintance with Dr. Wilson; but, from all accounts, he wonld be equal to either of the former gentlemen as a member of such a Committee. I do then most cheerfully and cordially accept the co operation of tho Committee composed of such gentlemen; for although tho theological department of tlio Review, as well as every other, should, perhaps, bo nnder tlio super vision and control of ono mind, yet it is bet tor, it seems to mo, that it should be nnder tho supervision and control of several snoh minds acting as one... I have «.*> »prux\Ueu sion, indeed, of tho least disturbance to the unity or efficiency of the department in qnostion, from the co-operation of such a Committee. My only fear is, on tlie con trary, that its inemtiers will have too little to do with the management of this new,and most important, department of the-iSou/Aei-a Review, leaving its labors and responsibili ties to rest too exclusively upon myself. It was my earnestly expressed desire, as yon will remember, that my intention to make an addition to the programme of the Review, should not be made public, till the fact could be published, and fully explained by myself; because I knew that false infer ences would bo drawn from imperfect in formation. I was not mistaken. Weak and malignant persons have seen a hundred things behind the scenes, which havo never had tho least existence in reality, and have indulged in a hundred assertions and dark insinuations, which have never had the shadow of a foundation in truth; and hence tho disagreeable necessity of this long lette r. It was ho part of my intention, as you were perfectly aware, to make any change iu tho features of the Southern Review before the beginning of 1871. Any change, or rather any addition, before that time would have been-a fraud oh tho present subscribers to tho Review, -whose rights and feelings are entitled to my most profound consideration. In the October number or tho Review, I will stato, and fully oxplaiu, tho precise nature - of the change, or rather the addition, to be made therein, in order that ovety subscriber may act with his eyes open. This, as you' well know, was my intention from the first, and without the least reference to the sup port of the Review by tho Members of your denomination, and it is my intention now. I only beg my personal friends, and the friends of the Southern Revieto, to wait and see what I intend to do, before they make np their minds or pronounce their judgments. Allow me to say, in Conclusion, that I re gret tlie publication of the resolutions of the General Conference. If I had known that you intended to publish them, I should have protested against the step as bringing a mat ter before the public winch, at present, does not concern it, and which might as it seems to mo, have been far better settled by pri vate consultation. But while I regret this, not one particle of ill-will, or hard feelings has been engendered in my mind by any part of the transactions. Though I have failed to obtain tho relief sought for, and so earnestly desired, I shall nevertheless adhere to my original determination to introduce a theological element into tho Southern Review. I 'am precisely where I was before I applied for relief, in thought, in feeling and iu will, as well as in gratitude to my numerous friends of the Methodist Church. Very respectfully, yonr friend and hrotlier, Baltimore, June 17. A. T. From the Sunday Magazine. Tlie Woman of Canaan. As the record of tho devotion of a mother to her daughter—a devotion quickening in her a faith so rare and lovely as to delight the very heart of Jesns with its bumble in tensity—this is one of the mast beautiful of all the stories of healing. The woman was a Greek, and had not bad the training of the Jew for a belief, in the Messiah. Her misconceptions concerning tbs healer of whom she had heard mast have been full of fancies derived from the legends of her race. But she had yet been trained to believe, for her mighty love of her own child was the best power for the development of the child-like in herself. No woman can understand the possible depths of her own affection for her daughter. Ijsay daughter not child, liecause, although -love is the same everywhere, it is nowhere the same. No two loves of individuals in the same correlation are the same. Much more the love of a woman for her daughter differs from the love of a father for his son— differs as the woman differs from the man. There is in it a peculiar tenderness from a sense of the same womanly consciousness in both of undefended and self accountable modesty—a modesty, in this case, how ter ribly tortured in the mother by the wild be havior, of the daughter under the impulses of the unclean spirit! Suroly if ever there was a misery to (hive the woman to the Healer in an agony of rightful claim and prostrate entreaty, it was the misery of amother whose daughter was tints possessed. The divine nature of her motherhood, of her woman hood, drew her back to its source to find kelp for one who shared in the same, bnt in whom its waters were sorely troubled and grievously defiled. She came crying to him. About him stood PUBLISHED BY J. W. BURKE & CO., FOR THE M. E. CHURCH, SOUTH. MACON, GA., FRIDAY, JULY 8, 1870. his disciples proud of being Jews. For their Rakes this chosen Gentile must be pained a little further, must bear with her Saviour her part of suffering for the redemption even of his chosen apostles. They counted them selves the children, and such as she the dogs. Ho must show them the divine nature dwell ing in her. For the sake of this revelation lie mnst try her sorely, bnt not for long. “Havo mercy on me,” she cried, “O Lord, thou son of David; my daughter is grievously vexed with a devil.” But not a word of reply came from the lips of the healer. His disciples must speak first. They must supplicate for their Gen tile sister. ' Ho would arouse jn them the disapproval of their own exclusiveness, by putting it on for a moment that they might see it apart from themselves. Their hearts were moved fpr the woman. “ Send her away,” they said, meaning, “ Give her what she wants; bnt to move the heart of love to grant the prayer, they—poor intercessors —added a selfish reason to justify the deed of goodness, either that they wonld avoid being supposed to acknowledge her claim on a level with that of a Jewess, and would make of it what both Puritans and priests would call ‘ ‘ an nneovenanted mercy, ” or that they they actually thought it would help to overcome tlio scruples of the Master. Possibly it was both. “ She crieth after ns.” they said, meaning, “ She is troublesome.” They would have him give as the ungener ous and tho unjust givo to tho importunate. But no healing could be granted on such a ground—not even to the prayer of an apostle. The woman herself must givo a better. ~ “I am not sent,” ho said “bnt unto the lost sheep of tho house of Israel.” They understood tho words falsely. We know that ho did not come for tho Gentiles, and ho was training them to sco what they were so slow to understand, that he had other sheep which were not of this fold. He had need to begin with them thus early. Most of tlio troubles of his latest,. perhaps greatest apostle, eame from the indignation of Jewish Christians that ho preached the good news to tho Gentiles as if it had been originally meant for them. They wonld havo had them enter into its privileges by tho gates of Judaism. Wliat they did at length understand by these words is expressed hi the additional word of our Lord given Ixy St. Mark: “Let the children first bo filled.” Bnt even this they could not understand until afterwards. They could not see that it was for the sake of tho Gentiles as muck as the Jews, as Jesus camo to tlio Jews first. For whatever glo rious. exceptions tkero wero amongst the Gentiles, surpassing oven similar amongst the Jews, and whatever tho widespread re fusal of the Jewish nation, he could not have been received amongst the Gentiles as among the Jews. In Judea alone could the leaven work; tlicro alone could tho mustard seed take fitting root. Once rooted and up, it would become a great tree, and tho birds of the world would nestle in its branches. It was not that God loved the Jews more than the Gentiles that ho chose them first, bnt that he must begin somewhere; why, God himself knows, and perhaps has given ns glimmerings. Upheld by her God-given love, not yet would the womorf-tum away. Even sncli hard words as these could not repnlso he*. She camo now and fell at his feet, - It is as the Master would havo it: she presses only tho nearer, sho insists only the more; for the dovil has a hold of her daughter. “ Lord, heljj me,” is lierciy; for the tron blo of her daughter is her own. The “Help me,” is far moro profound and patliotic than the inost vivid blazon of tlio daughter’s suf ferings. But he answered and said, — “It is not meet to take the children's bj»«l, ami to east it to dogs.” Terrible words! more dreadful far than any lie ever spoke Resides! Surely now she npT mean in .them to speakto lAtodcon eerning the relation of a Jew and a Gentile; for not only do tlio future of his church and “he teachings of his Spirit Contradict it, bnt if ho did mean what ho said, then he acted .as was unmeet,for he did east a child’s bread to a dog. No. He spoke as a Jew felt,that the elect Jews about him might begin to understand that in him is neither Jew nor Gentile, but all ore brethren.. And ho has gained his point. Tho spirit in the woman has been divinely goaded into utterance, mid out come the glorions words of her love and faith, casting aside even in sult itself as it had never been—all for the sake of a daughter. Now, indeed, it ia as ho would have it. ‘ ‘ Yes, Lord; yet the - dogs under the table e*t of tlie children’s erftmbs. ” ■as it; . *• e dogs eat of the leir master’s table. ” a its readiness, its But it was notrthe -newer that pleased s cheap, It is the ran precious as rare, m when it shall'bo tho universe, but fruits of « world redeemed- -precious now as coming from the lips of a human mother pleading for her daughter- O woman, great is thy faith; be it unto thee even a»thou wilt.” tNvks Bt. Marie gives it, for tire cannot iiflbrd to lose a varying word, • “For this saying, go thy way; the devil is gone ont of thy daughter.” The loving mother has conquered the tor men tin# deviL She lias called in the mighty aid of the original love. 'Through the chan nel of licr love it fiows, new-creating, “and her daughter was made whole from that hour.” Where, O. disciples, are your children and your dogs now?. Is not the wall of parti tion henceforth destroyed? No, yon too have to be made whole of ti worse ‘devil, that of a personal and national pride, before you understand. But the day of the Lord is coming for you, notwithstanding ye are so incapablo of knowing the signs and signals of its approach that, although its banners are spread across the flaming sky, it must come upon you as a thief in the night. For tho woman, wo may well leave her to the embraces pf her daughter. They are enough for her now. But endless more wH follow, for God is exhaustless in giving where the human receiviug holds out. (sod be praised that there are such embraces in the world! that ‘there are mothers who are tho salvation of their children! *Ftir more precious than any show of the intel lect, even in regard of the intellect itself. The quickness of her answer was the scintillation of her intellect under the glow of her affection. Love is the quickening nurse of the whole nature. Faith in God will do more fortlie intcllectat length Uian all the training of the schools. It will make the best that can be made of the whole man. Talleyrand’s Death-Bed. For nearly half a century, this veteran diplomatist acted a prominent part in the affairs of Europe. As the prime-minister or ambassador of the Directory, the Consulate, the_ Empire and the monarchy of Louis Philippe, he negotiated the important trea ties which determined the boundaries of empires add the fate of kingdoms, and formed plans which made Napoleon an emperor, and the emperor an exile. Such a man’s view of an eventful life of fonr-score years furnishes instructive lessons to tnen who are wasting the energies of being on political ambition or worldly aggrandisement. Just before bis death a paper was found on his table on which be had written, by the light of the lamp, such lines as these; “ Behold, eighty-three years.passed away! ‘ What cares! What agitation! What anxie ties! What ill-will! What sad complica tions! And all withont results, except great fatigue of mind and body, and.a profound sentiment of discouragement with regard to the future, and disgust with regard to the past!” Contrast with the exclamation of “ Paul the Aged, ” as he was abontdosing his earthly career: “ I havo fought a good fight;-1 have kept the faith; and henceforth there is laid np for mo a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me at that day.” ' A death-bed is the triumphant-chariot of the useful Christian, however hnmble; it is the executioner’s cart of the worldly unbe liever, however exalted. Mala Talk el an Indian. ! For several weeks the press of Washing ton city havo been giving statements of tho the acts and words, of a delega tion of Indians now on a mission of peace to the United States Government. Red Cloud, the Head Chief of the Sioux na tions, is the chief of the delegation. The last talk was on the 10th inst., when Red Cloud presented a list of the grievances of his people.. Other chiefs also recited cases of oppressions of tjie Government, and the impositions and frauds of its agents. Red Cloud, Red Dog, Spotted Tail, Con quering Bear, Bravo Bear, etc., are among the euphoneous and expressive names of these Indian bravos. They talk “with open i louth,” using “great plainness of speech. ” a imong the characteristic speeches of the 1 1st talk, that of Bravo Bear has a signifi cance of simplicity and truthfulness that spows ho has found the weak side of Auieri qan character. It “points a moral;” and i Jay serve to “adorn a tale." ; Brave Bear then came forward and sat 4°wn to speak, saying: I am 75 years of ago. I am old. When the flreat Father creatod us, the white and the red men were all brethren, and we lived so; bnt now a e are not. We are melting away; and the whites Who are increasing so fust and are great, aro trying to crash us and leave us no hope. The Great Spirit is looking upon them, and may hereafter make them give an account of tlioir misdeeds, k'he Great Spirit told me when a chief, if yon get strong and become rich, you cannot take your riches with you when you die. He must have told a different thing to tho white man, who is so grasp ing, and who piles up money. He mnst have told them when you die you can tako all into the next world. Bo it an Indian that speaks ; yet ho speaks ‘ ‘the words of truth and soberness. ’ ’ Civili zed age, and Christian wisdom could not speak 1 Hitter, or moro wisely. “One event buppefleth alike to nil,” to the savago and the saint. All go down into dust; and each leaves all of life’s gains behind him. Death is reckless of the distinctions and discrimi nations of wealth. The savago to his hunt ing grounds in tho spirit-world : tho saint to his soul’s home in tlio heavenly land; the sinner to his fancied rest in the next world, carries no portion of his worldly wealth with him. “Naked he came into this world: and naked lie must go out of it.” Observation, reflection, conscience— the voices of the (•rent Spirit—teach tho painted savage and the educated sinner, the same lesson that the Word of Truth preaches “to them that believe.” Whether in pretence or in ear nestness there is a terrible and cutting sar casm in the Indian’s words. Truth’and common sense aro in what “the Great Spirit” told Bravo Bear. “Ho mnst have told a different thing to tlio white man, who isrso grasping, nnd who piles np money. Ho mnst have told them when you die yon can tako all into tho next world. So it seems to tho Indian, judging from “the white man’s” inordinate grasping after wealth. Money is tho white man’s god; bis chief good, the one thing needfnl. Even Christian men embrace the infatuation, “bile up money” and crave riches as a fam ishing jnau craves food. jDevoutly as ho raay read the Bible, ho has no relish for and does not regard its denunciations of tho “love of money.” His gold will never rust: his riches will never bo moth-eaten.” Mercy will find cxonscs for him; and justice make exceptions in his favor. What, though widows weep and orphans hunger: what though ministers suffer and churches lan- Eh, and both labor in vain, and find no t in playing, and no help in tho solemn lay service; vfhat, if the heathen perish a**'of knowledge, and all tho ways of San mourn, her hands hang down, and her ees 1)0 feeblo; Wliat bf all these things to tile religious' Mammonist ? His eye does not see : his heart does not pity : his hands do hot give. If Ms fait ißu us voice, of mani festation in Ws conduct, ‘“the Great Spirit has told liinrwben ho dies ho shall carry all h* riehoa toto the-mexti-worldi’’ Ho will so much there that liar must be very carful in hoarding it here! IDs believes living in tlie next world to be very expensive, and to meet its doinands he may need a pile of money ! He certainly docs not believe wliat God has told him concerning tho curse of covetousness and the'erimo of selfishness. In works ho denies the Great Spirit that, in the Bible, snoaketh from heaven ! His creed is brief, clear, emphatic : “I believe iu money 1 I labor to make money ; live to save money : gold, silver, greenbacks : soul! these ate thy gods ; in them is all thy salva tion, all thy delight! Blessed is tho man whose pockets are full of them !” “Thou fool, this uight thy soul shall be required of thee : then whose shall those things be, which thou hast provided ?” RiciShond Christian Advocate. IjgjambliHg in Churcla Fairs. “Shore is no manner of question that tho prayuco of taking chances for any costly article is simply and purely illegal. That is enough to condemn it, even if otherwise innaocnt. Bnt this gambling is made illegal because of the beat reasons, viz : that it is immoral. It is often argued that people who have small sums to give prefer to give it in that way, because they exjiect to receive nothing iu return. This is a specious argu ment. They pay for a dollar or a half-dol lar’s worth of gambling excitement, tho worst thing they could purchase, and they expect to get what they pay for. Now gam bliug is like no other vice in its influence. It is like arsenic eating, in that it maybe indulged in up to a certain point without apparent harm, and suddenly at once be comes irresisistible and fatal. Men may bo moderate gamblers, bnt they never can tell when they will cease to be. Once let a man win largely or lose more than ho can afford and he is in a vortex. Now we know that these fair lotteries, rallies, and the like, have this consequence. They kindle the desire for gambling. A young man wins once or twice a costly article and begins to have a superstition about his ‘luck.’ That will tempt him to other ventures in other places. And it makes the young feel that there is no harm in such things. “We say advisedly that there is no safety in tampering in the slightest degree with such hazards. Our people are but too in dined to this evil, and far too much of busi ness is carried on upon gambling principles already. Again there is an inherent wrong in the very essence of the thing. It i* get ting an article, no matter what, which one desires, for far less than its worth. No one is the better and hardly-any man but is the for this. It is demoralizing."—Church man..' ' There is no possible answer to this reason ing. Yet thousands of Christian women and some ministers of the Gospel will pur sue the vice without scrnple. It is one of the strange inconsistencies of human nature, inexplicable and lamentable. Pulpit Prodigies. There is much good sense in the following remarks by Theodore Oayler: Now let me say plainly that for one I grow more dis trustful every day of these pulpit prodigies, anil of Ibo spirit that lnsts after them. No man can lie a “power” in the pulpit unless he possesses a good brain, a godly heart, a deep knowledge of the Biblo and the human heart, and a glowing love of souls. And the very qualities which a minister of Christ will be most likely to aim at will be simplicity of speech, and spiritual unction from the Holy One, and a rigid conformity in his every utterance to the inspired word of God. He will endeavor to speak not in the words which man’s Wisdom teacheth. When ho is called to enconntier what Brother Balkley calls a “ rationalistic and philosophic” audi tor, he will be likely to rely on the tremen ' dous enginery of the truth of God as it is Vevealeil in the inspired Word. Instead of meeting the intellectual skeptic as a skeptic, he will meet him as a guilty, perishing sin ner; lie Will .present to him his own heart, his own need of a Saviour, and the perfect adaptation of the Divino Saviour to meet his soul’s necessities. Nothing suits a ca villing skeptic lietter than to entice an am bassador of Christ off into the slippery regions of human metaphysics; on that ground the rationalist is at home. A minis ter of Christ is only at home when his feet are planted firmly on the Bock of Ages, and ho is wielding vigorously the sword of the Spirit which isihe Word of God. Shut -thy Door.—l. —l feel all that I know and all that I teach will do nothing for my soul if I spend my time, as some people do, in bnsiness or company. My sonl starves to death in the best company, and God is oiten lost in prayers and ordinances. “En ter into thy closet,” said ho, and “ shut thy door.” . Some words in scripture aro very cmphaticaL “ Shut thy door,” means mnch: it means, shut out, not only nonsense but business; not only the company abroad but tho company at home: it means, let thy poor soul have a little rest and refreshment, and God have opportunity to speak to thee in a still small voice, or he will speak to thee in thunder.— Cecil. Christian Union. The following froqi tlio Christian Union is an outliue of a sermon from John xvii. 21—“ That they all may be one ;as thou, Father, ai t in me, and lin thee, that they also may be one in us; that tho world may believo that thou hast sent me.” 1. Christian union does not consist in unity of church organization. Such unity is claimed by tho adherents of the Papacy; but wo do not admit that they exhibit the unity for which Christ prayed. Mere out ward form of union does not make “union of heart.” 2. Nor in moro union of doctrines and mode of administering ordinances. 3. Nor in tho same methods of explain ing oven fundamental truths. Persons who ardently love the same Gospel truths may adopt vory different ways of stating and il lustrating them. i. Christian union must not bo so regard ed as to hinder Christians from thoroughly comparing their viows on those themes on which they differ. That union is not worth anything which will not welcome a frank avowal of difference of opinion. 5. Christian union should not bo so re garded as to restrain ministers of the gospel from discussing whatever themes they please, and freely expressing themselves as they think proper. That view of Christian union would be a curse to tho world that should embarrass tho scope of pulpit themes and freedom of utterances. The union of Christians embraces these principles, namely: 1. Those who are near to Christ aro near to one another. 2. We must reeeivo those whom Christ receives. 3. Persons who love Christ aro therefore members of His Church. Their reception into any local church does not constitute them members in the Church of Christ—the truly Catholic Church. If ono alone, in the silence of midnight, yields his heart to Christ, at that moment he commences his membership in Christ’s Church. 4. The manifestation of Christi an charac ter, by the life, should b e lite test of Cliristian fellowship. 5. We should not attempt to sustain a re pulsive difference between Christian fel lowship and Church fellowship. G. Oneness of spirit in our efforts to ad vance tho cause of Christ, must make known to tho world onr Christian union. Conclusion.—Wo rejoice in the glorious result, “That tho world may believe thou host sent me. ’’ The union which Christians now exhibit makes a powerful appeal to the unconvert ed Wo expect that that blessed union will bo more and more apparent, and increas ingly effective. Two Voting Men’s Colloquy. !‘Cqme, Sam, lot’s gq in and take a little. Old Bob Bummer keeps tho best liquor in town. Come, don’t hang back; let’s go in.” “Jim, I have been thinking this matter over since I sa,w yon last, and I can't do it. To bo plain with you, Jim, I have given my heart to the Lord Jesus, and you will never see me drink again. Besides, I-have been figuring on this matter some, and wßlttrdo “Well, a dollar or two a week, I suppose,” said Jim. < Sain, taking a pencil aud a piece of paper from his pOeket-book, handed them to Jim, and said, “Lot ns look at it fully, and mnko a fair calculation* You deposit— “ Your money—and lose it. “Your time—and lose it. “Your character —and lose it. “Y#ur health of body—and lose it. “Yonr strength of mind—and lose it. “Your manly independence— and lose it. “Your self-respect—and lose it. “Your senso of right and wrong—and lose it. “Your self-control—and lose it. “Yonr home comfort—and lose it. “Yonr wife’s happiness—and lose it. “Your children’s rights—and lose them. “Your country’s honor—and lose it. “Your own so’nl—and lose it.” “Sam, I’ll take the pledge for life on that. Come, let’s go up to tho Young Men’s Christian Association Rooms and sign the pledge together.” Is it not just as true of gambling as of rum, that they destroy every thing before them ? Are they >u>t twin crimes i~Ameri <xm Messenger. *-*r*->s Clii'ysostoin’s Eloquence. The following burst of eloquence .from Chrysostom, when lie was sentenced to ban ishment, is a good specimen of the style of this “silver-tongued preacher;” “Wliat can I fear ? Willit.be death? But you know that Christ is my life, and that I shall gain by death. Will it lie exilo ? Bnt the earth and all its fullness is the Lord’s. Will it be the loss of wealth ? Bnt wo brought noth ing into the world, and can carry nothing out. Thus all the terrors of tho world are eontcniptible-iu my eyes, and I smile at all its good things. Poverty Ido not shrink from, and life I do not desire, save only for the progress of your sonls. But yon know, my friends, tho true cause of my fall. It is that I have not lined my house with rich tapestry. . It is that I have not clothed mo in robes of silk. It is tliat I have not flat tered the effeminacy and sensuality of cer tain men, nor laid gold and silver at their feet. But why need I say more ? Jezebel is raising her persecution, and Elias must fly. Herodias is taking' her pleasure, and John must be bound in chains;'the Egyptian wife tells her lie, and Joseph must lie thrust into prison. And so if they banish me I shall be like Elias; if they throw me into the mire, like Jeremiah; if they plunge mo into the sea, like the prophet Jonah;*if into the pit, like Daniel; if they stone me, it is Stephen that I shall resemble; John the fore runner,: if they cut off my head; Paul, if they beat mo with stripes; Isaiah, if they saw me asunder.” An Insane Man’s Stable. —Frederick May, E|q., of Medford, Mass., a partially insane man, wants to build a SIO,OOO stable for his liorse, and through his counsel, asked per mission to do so of the Probate Court. Tho petition was opposed by the lieirs-at-law and next of kin, as being a prodigal and unjus tifiable expenditure, not called for by tho necessities of the ward. On the other hand, it was argued that the heirs were outside parties to the case, and that the pe titioner had a right to build the stablo if it ministered to his happiness and wnnts. And so the Court held. The way they do it in Newfoundland.— A correspondent of the Provincial Wesleyan, speaking of missionary contributions, says : “Many of our people give a dollar for every child in the. family, and ‘a fresh wrival’ is a sure indication of another dollar being given at tho onsuing missionary meeting. Nay, some of onr people have said that this is the coprse they ever intend to pnrsno. Don’t yon think that it would he well on the part of tho other families of Methodists in British North Amorica, nay in tho whole world, to Go and do likewise. ” M. Lamijnnais is reported to have uttered the following weighty words just before his death; “There is nothing frnitfnl bnt sacri fice. Some will say this is a hard saying; who can hear it? Yet tho fact remains that for eighteen hundred years during which Ghristains have professed to believe in the oross, nothing' really elevated, lveautiful or good, has been done upon the earth except at the cost of suffering and self-abnegation.” - . The promises of God nefcdy fail when the conditions on which thejSfre made to de pend are perseveringly pap&rmed.— Watson. Mlwtellaitj. Printing in the Chinese Language. Ono of the editors of tho IV. Y. Observer is making the tour of the world. Here is a brief sketch from Shanghai, which shows some of the difficulties of book-making in China: One of the first places that I visited on reaching Shanghai, was the Mission Press of the Presbyterian Church of the United States—a wisely founded institution, which has been doing' a great work. It is the most extensive printing establishment in China, and has beon sending its light into Japan as well. The groat work of Dr. Hepburn of Yokolioma—his quarto Japanese Dictionary —was printod at this Press; and during the last year, tho third oditiou, 2, 400 copies, of another Japanese Dictionary, the first two editions of which was printed at Yoddo, lias been printed. It is a typo foundry as well as a printing house, anil, with judicious and liberal management, it may be made an im portant engine for good in time to como as it has beeu in the past. During tho year 1808, 25,000,000 pages .were printed at this Press, and in the present year tho whole of tho New Testament and of Pilgrim’s Progress lias been admirably electrotyped. I have before mo a copy of the Pilgrim’s Progress in Cliinoso, illustrated with engravings drawn and excented here, and also a copy of the “ Peep of Day ” in Chinese, from tne same Press. On entering this oxtensivo printing estab lishment, I was confronted with a sories of amphitheatres, in tho interior of each of which stood a compositor; and I saw at a glance tho immensity of tho work which every one who learns to read or speak or print tho Cliineso language, has to encoun ter. Each one of these amphitheatres was what printers call a ease, containing, not 26 letters as in English printing offices, but more than 6,000 different characters of types, and, with tho combinations that aro made, ■more than 13,000. I do not much wonder that the Chinese adhere to their old method of engraving everything on wpod that they print, for I should bo very loth to attempt to liftntnp many letters or'words out of tho 6,000 boxes that I saw before me. And yet this mode of printing is a great improve ment on the old. Sowing Not in Vain. Henry Ward Beecher has the following on the subject of sowing when there seems no prospect of reaping any profit in return. He says : A mother has, perhaps, the hardest lot of anybody. Her life is one perpetual empty ing of herself of her own convenience in behalf of her little child, that Sir many years can return nothing, and can never make any adequate return; for her care of it. There is no other instance of such spontaneous and thorough emptying of one’s own nature for another that we know of in this life. And yet no mother worthy of the naino ever gave herself thoroughly for lior child who did not feel that, aftqr ali, she reaped what sho had sown. No person was over called to suffer for a principle, and suffered manfully, that he was not himself oonscious that he was a victor. When yonr mono is oast out, and trodden under feet of men; when you are counted as tho offscour ing of tho earth for faitlifukiess to duty, do you not experience a peculiar joy ? Can you not, then understand what tho apostle intent when he said, “My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into divers tempta tions ?” Making Felix Tremble.—Wliat ono groat aim of a-sermon should be, is well illustrat ed by tho following. A student at Prince- ton having preached a sermon -for purposes of criticism, before the members of the Seminary, on PanPs sermon -before Felix, with tho text; ‘.‘Felix trembled,” giving what he supposed to have been 'Haul's dis course, Professor Alexander was hard to say, in a given case, how much wo had preserved to us of an apostolic ser mon. Kometimes only tlie subjeot w-as re corded. At other times, it seemed an epi toino was given. There were eases iu which wo had the introduction and conclusion, and other cases iu which wo had the main discussion. This was a case where the main topics wefe merely suggested. We knew nothing of tho exordium or the peroration, and conld only guess at the argument. He did not believe that anybody could preach the sermon that Paul delivered before Felix. But of one thing lie felt sure, and that was, that the young brother had not preached Paul’s sermon in the oratory that night; for if Paul, on the occasion referred to, had preached tho sermon they hnd just heard, Felix never would have trembled /” > < We need never say, I have no power to bless. Neither has the bruised reed, but, as it lies close by the river-brink, the stream may flow through it to thirsty lips. It could not be a reservoir, but it may lie a channel —of fulness which never fails. Rut let ns remember that we can only bless in being blessed—can give only in measure as we re ceive. Wo know this; do we live out of the knowledge ? Are we thns receiving from Jesus himself, the Fountain of Life? Have wq learned wliat it is to go to him, empty, helpless, nothing—with ohly ono cry of want and longing: “Mine eyes are unto Thee, O God tho Lord?” And, learning this, have we learned yet more—what it is to have his fullness so opened to us, both for ourselves and others, that wo have nothing to do but point to it as we say—self out of sight—“He satinfieth ?” Then wo are blessings, though wo know it not. Nonplussed. —A young lady met iu com pany a young gentleman who evidently had an excellent opinion of himself. During conversation he introduced the subject of matrimony, and expatiated at length upon t e kind of a wife lie expected to marry, that is, if ever he should take the decisive steji. The honored lady must bo wealthy, beautiful, accomplished, amiable, etc., etc. His listener quietly waited until he ended, and then asked coolly, “And pray, sir, what have you to offer in return for all'this?” The young man stammered, reddened a little and walked away. Tub Inactive a Doubting Christain.— We cannot give the philosophy 'of it, "hut this is the fact—Christians who liave nothing to do bnt to sit thinking of themselves, medi tating,sentimentalizing, (or mysticising,) are almost sure to become the prey of dark, black misgivings. John, struggling in tho desert, needs no proof that Jesus is the Christ. John, shut up, becomes morbid and doubt ful immediately. The history of a human soul is marvellous. We are mysteries; bnt here is the mystery of it all—for sadness, for suffering, for misgiving, there is no remedy but stirring- and doing.— Robertson. Rejoice in God. Dry np tlioso tears. Cast away that downcast look. Child of the dust, you are an heir of glory. There is a crown all burnished for you; there is a white robe prepared for you; there is eternal glory for you; angels are to he your servants, and yon are to reign with the King of kings for ever. But while you wait ou earth bo wit nesses for God: attest the glory of your Master; rise in the greatness of his strength; hind sin captive to your chariot-wheels; go onward in your heavenly career. The Faults of Men. —A white garment appears worse with slight soiling than do colored garments when much soiled; so a little fault in a good man attracts more at tention than great offences in had men. St. John takes notice of no other motive to the love of God, than our indispensable obligation to he grateful to so good a friend. “We love him because lie first loved us.”— A Contrite Heart. The slender returns of gratitude we make are many times a formal ceremony; a preface to usher in petitions for what we want, rather than thankfulness for wliat we have received. —SeougaL The Nebraska Conference resolved that “no map is fit for any official position in our Church who refuses to subscribe for, and diligently read, onr Church-papers.” Without the Spirit Si Peter trembled at the voice of a maid-servant; with the Spirit he withstood kings and princes. — S. t Jerome. E. H. MYERS, D. D., EDITOR WHOLE NUMBER 1808. A Pneumatic Tube Four Hundred Miles Longi Tho following extract from a letter received by one of our friends, describes the opera tion of a pneumatic tube between Glasgow and London. Probably few of our readers are aware of tho existence of tho process by which messages and packages aro almost in stantaneously transmitted between those two cities. I had occasion to send a telegram to London the other day, and in a few minutes received a reply which led mo to suppose that a serions error had been committed by m 7 agents, involving many thousand pounds. I immediately went to tho telegraph office and asked to see my message. The clerk said, “ We can’t show it to yon, as wo havo sent it to London.” “Bnt,” I replied, “you must havo my original paper here; I wish to see that.” lie again said “ No, we have not got it, it is in tho post office at London. ” “Wliat do you mean?” I asked. “ Pray let me see tho paper I left hero half hour ago." “ Well,” said he, “if yon must see it, wo will get it back in a few minute, bnt it is now in London.” Ho rang a bell, and in five minutes or so, produced my message rolled tip in pasteboard. It seems that for some months there lias existed a pneumatic telegraph betwixt Glas gow and London and betwixt London and tho other principal cities of tho Kingdom, whioh consists of an iron tube, into which the messages are thrown and sent to their destination. I inquired if I might seo a message sent. “On yes, come round hero.” Ho slipped a number of messages into tho pasteboard scroll, popped it into the tubo and made a signal. I put my car to tho tubo and heard a alight rumbling noise for seventeen seconds, when a liell ring beside me, indicating that the scroll had arrived at tho general postoffice, four hundred miles off! It almost took my breath away to thihk of it. If I could only go to Boston witli the same relative speed, you might oount On my passing an evening every week at No. 124, Beacon street, and returning homo to sleep. Who knows but that wo may lie conveyed m this marvollons manner before many years. Perhaps you are aware tljat there has been a large tube between the general postoffice in London and the station in Eustace square in operation for a number of years. Tho mail bags for the North are all sent by this conveyance, so that the postoffico receives letters up to a sow minutes before the train loaves, three miles off. The transit takes loss than two seconds. Snrely this is an age of wonders.— Transcript. The Heart and its Diseases. Wo attach far too little importance to this organ nnd its functions. It performs its great office so quietly and so uninterrupted ly that wo even forget its existence. From a period anterior to birth until death, during sleeping as well os waking hours, ceaselessly and noiselessly, with steady and measured rhythm, it circulates the vital fluid through every tissue of the body. Seventy-five times it pulsates in a minute, or 108,000 times in a day, without exhaustion or apparent need of repose. The heart is a hollow, muscular organ, weighing but ten ounces, and is suspended in tno cavity of tho chest by delicate liga ments. And yet it performs, quietly and noiselessly, and with but the slightest jar, an incredible amount of labor. In twenty four hours it is estimated that the heart ac complishes more than tlirco times as much work as a common laborer in ten hours. “Three old women sitting by tlie fire,” says a recent' scientific writer, “alternately spin ning and sleeping, do more work by the con stant beating of their hearts .than can bo done in a day by the youngest and strongest laborer.” He adds : “No labor that we can nnldertake is regarded as‘more severe than that of the muscles employed daring a boat rate.; and yet this labor. Beware as it only .three-fourtlis of that exerted day and night, during ltfe; by eaeh ©f onr hearts.” If the entire force of the heart were expend ed in lifting its own weight vertically, it would bo raised 19,754 feet in one hour. Compare this with the exertions of an active pedestrian, who can raise his own weight but 1,000 feet per hour, and we find that the hourt exerts about twenty times os much force; or with the best locomotive, which can raise itself 2,700 feet in an hour, which is out one-eighth part of the energy or the human hoart. To a reflective mind, it can not boa mas ter of surprise that this delicately construc ted organ, laboring so vigorously without a moment’s rest, night or day, should frequent ly, and often suddenly, give over its labor, and cease to act. On tho contrary,'it is rather a matter of astonistttaent tfcaf the heart should maintain integrity,, year after year, amid all tlip M-effiSs of exgi>;cmefit through which tho individual pas; os for threescore years And ten. In soTOrei t sick neps, when other organs fail,' tholiearf pfilr mieothe even tenor of its way, oont inning its pulsatious to file last moment of life. Like a strong warrior in a citadel, if yields only when every resoittoe hasboenexhaustod. A Funny Bird. A recent traveler in Australia thus de solilies the performances of a tame cocka too, known by its pet-name of “the Doctor:’, bit pretended to have a violent toothache, and nursed its beak in its claw, rocking it self backward and forward as if in the great est agony, and, in answer to Ml tlio reme dies which were proposed, croaking out, ‘Oil, it ain’t a bit of good !’ and, finally, sidling np to tho edgo of its perch, and saying, in a hoarse bnt confidential whisper: ‘Give us a drop of whiskey, do.' ” “it would also pretend to sew, holding a little piece of cloth underneath tho claw which rested oil thoporeh and going through this motions with tho other, getting into dif ficulties with its thread, and finally setting up a loud song in praise of sewing-ma cliiues, just as if it were an advertisement. “The ‘Doctor’s’ best performance is when he imitates a hawk. He reserves this fine piece of acting until his. mistress is feeding nek poultry; then, when all the hens and chickens, turkeys and pigeons, are in tho quiet enjoyment of their breakfast or sup ped, the peculiar rfhrill cry of a hawk is heard overhead, and the ‘Doctor’ is seen circling in tho air, uttering a scream occa sionally. The fowls never find ©ut that it is a hoax, bnt run to shelter, cackling in the greatest alarm—hens clucking loudly for their chicks, turkeys orouohing under tlio bushes, the taking refuge iu their house. As soon as tho ground is quite dear, cocky changes his wud note for peals of laughter from a high tree, and, finally alighting on the top of a hencoop filled with trembling chickens, remarks, in a suffocated voioe, ‘You’ll bo tlio death of me!’ ”—Ap pleton’s Journal. Paley’s Love Trials. —The Eclectic quotes some “new cariosities of literature,” from Punch. One is about Paley. “Ho was constantly'in love, and as often, with an ex cess of fastidiousness, discovering some im perfection which deterred him from propos ing marriage. One lady sneezed three times in three minutes; another looked too stout on horseback; a third horrified him by par taking twice of liver and bacon ; a fourth could not tell what caviare was; and a fifth, who really thought she had hooked the archdeacon, lost him by his coming in un expectedly from one of his fishing excur sions, anil finding her sacking a large-sizfid orange. ” Learning will ncenmnlate wonderfully if you add a little every day. Do not wait for a long period of leisure. Pick up the hook and gain one new idea if no more. Save that one and odd another as soon as yon can. Says the old Scotch adage: “ Many a littloouakes a mickle.” (l French Bishop in a sermon recently ad ministered a pliillippic to crinoline wearers. “Let women beware,” said he, “while put ting on their profuse and expansivo attire, how narrow are tho gates of Paradise. ” Prayer is of natnre; thankfulness of grace. Want foroeth open every month to crave; religion opens a few to render thanks in re turn. Worship God in “ the beauty of holiness, ” and let thy soul delight itself in Jesus. Dnnk long and deep from the Fountain of Love, and satisfy the thirst of thy soul. Feed richly upon the heavenly manna, till thou hunger no more. Let thy joy he full, for so is the will of thy Master.