of your sermon, but it had one deficiency-it had Dr. Bowrie, physician to Mr. Jay, in some reminiscences of his life, speaks as follows respecting some peculiarities in his preaching: afflicted, the poor, and the wayward, he felt it his duty to look after, with attention and carefulness. He was brief and prayerful in these calls, and talked and laughed but little. Questions having a direct reference to one's spiritual case were put to each member called on, and he accepted of no equivocation in reply. So large, however, was his congregation that he found it very difficult, preaching as he did five times a week-that is, three times on the Sabbath, once Wednesday night, and once in the country adjacent to attend to pastoral calls, even among those who needed such calls. He more than once urged on his leading members, male and female, the absolute necessity of their acting as "Mr. Jay, in his preaching, often made a won- pastors, or callers and exhorters upon their fellowderful impression by a single sentence delivered members. "Is there nothing you can do," said in a powerful manner. One of these I shall men- he once, addressing his brethren and sisters, "but tion as pressing most strongly at this moment on serve tables? Could not females be usefully and my mind, although heard by me many years ago. properly employed? Were they not, in the first He had been preaching on the repentance of Ju- | Churches, officially engaged, not indeed in preachdas, and took occasion in the discourse to attacking, this was expressly forbidden-and inspiration the love of money, as one of the, if not the prin- is only common sense here-but in cases that did cipal, sins of the Church of God; and at the not compromise the duties and decencies of their close of one of the divisions of his subject, he peculiar sphere and character? Paul says to the burst forth in his own peculiar and emphatic Philippians, 'Help those women that labored manner, with the following awful sentence: 'Av- with me in the Gospel.' To Timothy he speaks arice, avarice is the monsoon, the devil's trade- of a 'widow well reported of for good works, if wind, from the Church into hell.' Another at she have brought up children, if she have lodged this time presses itself forcibly on my memory; strangers, if she have washed the saints' feet, if and although, perhaps, by the very fastidious, it she have relieved the afflicted, if she have dilimay be said not well fitted for the pulpit, yet at gently followed every good.' 'I commend unto the time of delivery it made a wonderful impres- you,' says he to the Romans, Phebe our sister, sion, and now is so clear before me that I must who is a servant of the Church, which is at Cengive it. Mr. Jay was speaking of the glaring in- chrea. For she has been a succorer of many, and consistency of many professors of the Gospel, myself also. Also greet Mary, who bestowed and endeavoring to show how impossible it was much labor on us." to expect the Divine blessing to rest on half-andhalf professors of religion. He rested much on the necessity there was for decision for God, and the clear manifestation before the Church and the world, in the believer's walk and character, so as to leave no doubt who indeed was his Master; and in the midst of a powerful appeal pronounced the following: 'Some of you, my dear brethren, are so inconsistent and undecided, that if at this moment I saw the devil running away with some of you, I could not call out, "Stop thief!" he would but carry off his own property."" As a pastor, he was somewhat peculiar. He announced that, in order to have time to preach, he must not spend all his time in pastoral visiting. The healthy and the wealthy, if they were pious and exemplary, he begged to be excused from calling on, except "semi-occasionally;" but the To remedy somewhat his deficiency in visiting, he appointed a Monday evening meeting, to which he especially invited the busy, the poor, and the aged, and talked to them for an hour or so in a free and familiar manner about their sins, and about the best means to be employed to live happy and to obtain salvation. Of his personal reminiscences, his criticisms on cotemporaries and friends, and of his piety and his triumphant death, we can not speak now, but must beg the reader's indulgence till another month. LIFE is made up, not of great sacrifices or duties, but of little things, in which smiles and kindness and small obligations, given habitually, are what win and preserve the heart and secure comfort. CHRIST AND THE INFIDELS. HE brightness of the brightest name pales T and wants before the which from the person of Christ. The scenes at the tomb of Lazarus, at the gate of Nain, in the happy family at Bethany, in the "upper room," where he instituted the feast that should forever consecrate his memory, and bequeathed to his disciples the legacy of his love; the scene in the garden of Gethsemane, on the summit of Calvary, and at the sepulcher; the sweet remembrance of the patience with which he bore wrong, the gentleness with which he rebuked it, and the love with which he forgave it; the thousand acts of benign condescension by which he well earned for himself, from self-righteous pride and censo. rious hypocrisy, the name of the "friend of publicans and sinners;" these, and a hundred things more, which crowd those concise memorials of love and sorrow with such prodigality of beauty and of pathos, will still continue to charm and attract the soul of humanity, and on these the highest genius, as well as the humblest mediocrity, will love to dwell. These things lisping infancy loves to hear on its mother's knees, and over them age, with its gray locks, bends in devoutest reverence. No; before the infidel can prevent the influence of these compositions, he must get rid of the Gospels themselves, or he must supplant them by fictions yet more wonderful. Yes; before infidels can prevent men from thinking as they have ever done of Christ, they must blot out the gentle words with which, in the presence of austere hypocrisy, the Savior welcomed that timid guilt that could only express its silent love in an agony of tears; they must blot out the words addressed to the dying | penitent, who, softened by the majestic patience of the mighty sufferer, detected at last the monarch under the vail of sorrow, and cast an imploring glance to be "remembered by him when he came into his kingdom;" they must blot out the scene in which the demoniacs sat listening at his feet, and "in their right mind;" they must blot out the remembrance of the tears which he shed at the grave of Lazarus-not surely for him whom he was about to raise, but in pure sympathy with the sorrows of humanity-for the myriads of desolate mourners, who could not, with Mary, fly to him, and say, "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my mother, brother, sister, had not died!" they must blot out the record of those miracles which charm us, not only as the proof of his mission, and guarantees of the truth of his doctrine, but as they illustrate the benevo lence of his character, and are types of the spiritual cures his Gospel can yet perform; they must blot out the scenes of the sepulcher, where never seen before, but shall henceforth be seen to the end of time-the tomb itself irradiated with angelic forms, and bright with the presence of him "who brought life and immortality to light;" they must blot out the scene where deep and grateful love wept so passionately, and found him | unbidden at her side, type of ten thousand times ten thousand, who have "sought the grave to weep there," and found joy and consolation in him "whom, though unseen, they loved;" they must blot out the discourses in which he took leave of his disciples, the majestic accents of which have filled so many departing souls with patience and triumph; they must blot out the yet sublimer words in which he declares himself "the resurrection and the life"-words which have led so many millions more to breathe out their spirits with childlike trust, and to believe, as the gate of death closed behind them, that they would see him who is invested with the "keys of the invisible world," "who opens and no man shuts, and shuts and no man opens," letting in through the portal which leads to immortality the radiance of the skies; they must blot out, they must destroy these, and a thousand other such things, before they can prevent him having the pre-eminence who loved, because he loved us, to call himself the "Son of Man," though angels call him the "Son of God." It is in vain to tell men it is an illusion. If it be an illusion, every variety of experiment proves it to be inveterate, and it will not be dissipated by a million of Strausses and Newmans. Probatum est. At His feet, guilty humanity, of diverse races and nations, for eighteen hundred years, has come to pour forth, in faith and love, its sorrows, and finds there "the peace which the world can neither give nor take away." Myriads of aching heads and weary hearts have found and will find repose there, and have invested him with veneration, love, and gratitude, which will never, never be paid to any other name than his.—Henry Rogers. As he that makes a bridge of his own shadow can not but fall in the water, so neither can he escape the pit of hell that lays his own presumption in the place of God's promises. The world twines itself about the soul, as a serpent doth about an eagle, to hinder its flight upward, and sting it to death. THE TWO EDENS. BY M. LOUISA CHITWOOD. I AM dreaming, dreaming of Eden, And over the brows of the tempted Fastened the fangs of sin; When the flowers that grew in the garden O, fair and beautiful Eden! O, perfect and sinless love! When light, like a prism of glory, Circled the world from above! And a sweet, rejoicing anthem Was sung by the earth to the sun, As swift through the realms of azure She swept in her glory on; When afar in the quiet valleys, 'Neath the bloom of a thornless rose, The lion and lamb together Lay down in a sweet repose; When the fawn and the spotted leopard, And the beasts that lived in the jungles, I am dreaming, dreaming of Eden- The quiet land of the skies- No serpent can enter in; And o'er the Eternal City Hangeth no cloud of sin; Where the loved, upon whose bosoms O, fairest and beautiful Eden Of endless, eternal rest! Of all the sweet dreams that e'er thrill me, When the heart within is pulsating With a thought and hope of the Eden LIFE. BY ELLA ENFIELD. 'Tis but a weary scene, This toilsome life A restless, troubled dream- Then hope begins to dawn, Soon clouds of sorrow come O'er childhood's sky, Obscure life's rising sun, And dim the eye. Corroding cares come on, With added years, Pressing the spirit down With anxious fears. As darksome night beclouds The sunny morn, So grief and sorrow shroud Here short-lived pleasures dwell, The "cypress" wreath adorns The beauteous flow'rs, arrayed Into the romb! How soon they droop and fade 'Tis constant never: Like fading light it flies, Soon gone forever. Earth's treasures are but toys, But there's a world above, Where life-immortal life Forever reigns, And beauty robes with green, arranged that all the mental faculties may be developed and duly balanced. In cases of eccentricity this is necessary to guard against monstrosity, and in other cases it is very well. But ordinarily we need have no painful concern in this matter. To prepare men for the various pursuits of life their minds are constituted differently; and the school should not be a bed of Procrustes. If we can form, in each case, a habit of vigorous mental action, we can safely trust to social intercourse and the daily scenes of the world's state to regulate and moderate it. We are too much disposed to regard the faculties of the mind as separate and independent, like oxygen and hydrogen in the compound blow-pipe; whereas, they are but the different modes in which the mind acts, and are only treated separately, in scientific works, for the sake of convenience. In most cases, the soul, in performing one operation performs others also. How can we have an act of judgment, for example, without attention, ab ening one power, then, we may strengthen all; let us, therefore, hail with delight any evidence of genius in the pupil in whatever form it may appear. There was a time when the friends of education, in their care for the mind, lost sight of the body, forgetful that, however superior the spirit may be to its earthly instruments, its outward manifestations are through the bodily organs. It is as though the engineer, impressed with the distinctness and power of steam, should be unconcerned with the machinery by which it is applied. Now, however, it is understood that the teacher should possess a competent knowledge of anatomy, physiology, and hygiene, in order that he may give judicious directions in the construction and furniture of his school-room; in regulating its supplies of heat, light, and atmos-straction, memory, association, etc.? In strengthphere; in adjusting the tasks and punishments of his pupils, and in superintending their diet and exercises; that he should not only be able to give such directions, but also satisfactory reasons for them; to illustrate, in a familiar manner, the general laws of digestion, circulation, respiration, etc., and to show their practical application. For want of such qualifications in the teachers of other days, many are weak and sickly among us, and many regard education through a cloud of gloomy and painful associations. Once it was supposed that education consisted in so many quarters of grammar, and so many of geography, and so on. Now it is generally admitted, that while we teach the child arithmetic, grammar, geography, civil history, and the general principles of philosophy and natural history, we are to bear in mind that these, after all, are but means, not the end; that the great object of the educator is to teach the child to think. Let the pupil form the habit of patient, clear, consecutive thought, and you may let him go. Next to the education of the mind comes the development and training of the taste, and the sensibilities, both natural and moral. All are agreed up to this last point. When we come to moral nature there is a class that cries, "Hold, you may teach the temporal but not the spiritual; all moral and religious instruction must be excluded from the common school." Of this plan I remark that it is neither feasible nor allowable; and to the illustration of this proposition, I will devote the remainder of this paper. That the scheme is not practicable is evident, first, from the very nature of education, which consists in leading out the mind, encouraging inquiry, nourishing free, bold, independent thought. Will you draw lines around an awakened, emancipated, aspiring spirit, and say, hitherto shalt thou come and no further? More especially, can Thinking, not know-you restrain it from those great subjects which ing, makes the great distinction between the mind have been the themes of ages, which have abof the philosopher and that of the fool; the abil-sorbed the minds of Moses, and Socrates, and ity to reason is the measure of mental excellence, the instrument of high achievement. 'Tis this that scales heaven, and fathoms hell, and compasses space; that outstrips the lightning, and speaks like the voice of God; that defies volcaLoes and storms; and laughs at warrants and executions in its burning path. 'Tis this, despite all conquerors, to which God has given the dominion of the world, as by a covenant of salt. It is a trite observation that studies should be so Paul, and Plato, and which have controlled the march of human events? As well attempt to hold the lightning as it leaps from heaven to earth, or from earth to heaven. From every figure on his black board, from every crown, or cross, or flag upon his outline map, the boy, that is a boy, may push his inquiring way downward to conscience, or upward to God. Vain to cry, halt, when he has pushed you to the line of things, moral and religious. 3. does this mean? "Blame not me; I expand and Second, from the connection between the different powers of the soul, intellectual, sensitive, moral, and voluntary. This is so intimate that you can not train one class of faculties without training others. The celebrated Dr. Hunter, who was noted alike for the solidity of his judgment and the facetiousness of his expressions, once remarked-glancing at certain theorists-"Gentle men, physiologists will have it that the stomach is a mill, others that it is a fermenting vat, others again that it is a stew-pan; but in my view of the matter, it is neither a mill, nor a fermenting vat, nor a stew-pan, but a stomach, gentlemen, a stom-have, but they are very unsuitable; and, moreover, ach." So of the human mind-it is neither a reasoning, nor a feeling, nor a conscientious apparatus, but a mind, gentlemen, a human mind. Suppose we adopt the phrenological hypothesis, and ascribe to each of its powers a separate organ; still, it must be conceded, they are intimately connected, so that you could not influence one without affecting others. They must be more closely connected than the different organs of the body, yet you can not seriously affect one bodily organ without affecting more or less every other. There is a great sympathetic nerve which binds them all together, and teaches each to weep with them that weep, and rejoice with them that rejoice in the same system. An injury upon the surface of an extremity may carry dismay to the vitals. Moreover, the different organs of the body depend upon each other. Suppose you determine that you will watch exclusively over the brain; soon may you look for cerebral disorder. Well, you interrogate the troubled organ. Why, dear Brain, are you so perverse? how is it, after all the care that I have bestowed upon you, and the exclusive affection I feel for you, that you are radiating such a half-elaborated, pernicious, nervous influence over the whole body, distressing every nerve and confusing every organ? "Well," ," the poor brain replies, "I am not to blame; I am not unmindful of my functions, nor insensible to your goodness; but the heart has been pumping up lately such a corrupted stream of blood that, with all my extra exertions, I am not able to manufacture out of it any thing better than the vicious, maddened stuff that I send out through the nerves." Well, go now to the heart. Heart, what is the reason that you have sent such an impure current to the brain of late? "It is no fault of mine," replies the heart; "I pump up as good a blood as I receive; I wish it were better, I am sure; for it is painful to work in such a fluid, and if some change is not made soon I shall get sick. Ask the lungs why they send such a poor article to me." Well, Lungs, what with the water in this neighborhood there is often |