GENESEE EVANGELIST.—WhoIe No. 729. Iferttg. LINES .. j-...--; wsoisrsDotf ssrAiuraro niOM iai ohtjmh iron which ibx was tiaar cojthictad. ; And 1 must weep.; theie*r* that gush From out the heftrtj bo hand may stay; The thrilling inemdriiS that Upon my soul, will-have their way. The tendrils of my heartaiebouhd, Oh, churoh 'hejoved 1 . jbloae jtbithee Seems, that it* fiifflie, if unwound, Bleeding, caA clasp no other tree. . What priceless blessings I have proved, . Listening the worda-our pastor taught; All eloquent with truth'and love, ' Ahdfreighted withthe wealth of thought. . Whqn for our babes we fain would crave, '; v OTatmy gpirft’aWWeetbaptUmr i .tilslip* the Wordtof blesstngigave, His hand performed the holy chrism* When weeping o’er our dead, we’ve bowed With hearts all crushed bbneath the blow; His gentle hand, tt)e balm hath poured Into our bitter cup of wo. Heueinber well the heavy rod, And well the pastor’s words so mild; “ God is a covenant-keeping God, The covenant hands are round thy child.” Long may your arms, dear church, bo'thrown Bound this loved pastor of your choice; And long his mild benignant tones ' ‘ Your waiting ears and hearts rejoice. And when are broke the golden bowls, And all the silver cords are riven; May you, a band of ransomed souls, A church'triumphant, 1 meet In heaven. E.B.H. flbttmpon&tnce. INFLUENCE OFMYTHOIOGY AND CHBIS TIANITYON POETRY. BY WILLIAM 0. WINSLOW. : Mythology was to ancient poetry what Christi anity is to modern. Religion, the vital spark of human nature, is an element of genuine poetry. Henoe the mythic religion of yore was to anoient. poetry wh%t, Christianity -.;;£bc/|ny thologjofthwheatheniSuniversaHyackiKiwledged to have originated from made primarily to the Jews. Under its influence, poetry was corrupted, and lost its divine impress, though stil), retaining its fire and sublimity. And it was the fire anfi Bublimity resulting from a$ obscure reve lation, wrought by a disturbed fancy into extrava gant wildness, and conjured into forms-most cap- ; tivating to a sensual taste. It would appear then, that so far as the avowed object of poetry is concerned, which is to please the taste and gratify the imagination, the influence of the heathen Mythology was more propitious than that of the Jewish religion. The lofty con ceptions obtained frotn a divine revelation were in through a distorted medium, he exhibited them in an aspeot gratifying to a natural love of the marvellous; he was at liberty to .alter, multiply and combine in a manner best suited to the pre vailing taste. Thus Mythology helped the poet, and the poet helped Mythology. .Assuming : that the Supreme Being; was an object beyond imagj nation and description, the poet placed him above all human concern, made him too elevated for terrestrial affqirsj ; and oreated a. multitude of sub ordinate gods and goddesses, with numerous attend ants of various forms, who visited the habitations of men, and presided over their destiny. This gave the poet free rein to all the powers of ima gination and description. At his service were gods and demi-gods; he clothed them with forms and passions, half human and half divine; he gave them supreme power over the affairs of men; and they haunted mountains, groves and temples. He peopled the dark woods with imaginaiy beings of beauty and deformity; waters were enchanted, mountain tops and oaves became- the oranles future. All this was a mighty advantage to the poet. Christianity reveals the only living and trne God. Hence it strips the poet of all this machi nety. When he has occasion to refer to a divine agent, he must refer to this same being whose at tributes are clearly revealed, and beyond the work of a free imagination. No attempt at a poetic re presentation of Jehovah, by an uninspired pen, has ever been successful. Even Milton failed in his attempt, as every pure taste feels, when he ventured upon a description of that Being who is transoendently above the reach of even his sub limcst flight. Poetry, to accomplish its purpose, must embellish, eolor, and adorn the subject de scribed beyond itself. The mind is disappointed and disgusted, when imagination describes the Deity in such a manner. Whenever the pen at- L tempts to exhibit God, and the sublime realities I of judgment, heaven and hell, a few bold and I general strokes, leaving the reader’s imagination, I to supply the rest, are in better taste, and are Lmorc powerful in effeofc,than the finished paint- Bing of the poet. ■. Christianity, like philosophy, knows and defines ■ facts as they are. Mythology exaggerates them. ■ The one operates in daylight, when it can adou- I- irately apply its axioms and deflßitions. Ond draw I the limits of human knowledge. The other revels I in obsourities of twilight, amidst glimmerings and [ occasional flashes only. PerfectJight defeats its I purpose, Hence the influence of Christianity On poetry onuses the mind to see clearly, and that of Mythology to see obscurely. Some of the earliest and loftiest. effusions which the world has pro duced, were found among the anoient Jews. Their bards, burning with the fire df saerod enthusiasm, struck their lyres to notes of spiritual and unri valled sublimity. Some of . the books of the Old Testament, rescued from destruction by the pro vidence of God, and transmitted to us, are illus trious specimens of doubtless, numerous, unknown productions of Hebrew poetry nowiost to the world. But when Christianity rose "ih noonday effulgence upon the world—wbentyfftetiSttd wi dows were lost in realities, andthe'sdblitae rdyS teries of redemption, and Messiah's* kingdom wefe disclosed, the language of poetry was converted into that of simple and engaging truth. The ob jects of the Christian revelation are few, simple, , sublime, and clearly revealed. Those Of the hea then Mythology are numerous, complex, and ob scurely seen. The heathen poet could always gratify the passion of love and vanity, and at the same time enlist the marvellous knd mystic. Me ascribed every phenomenon in ! nature to- the ’ im mediate agency of one of his gods. : •' But the Christian religion has swept this ma chinery away. Poetry and religion how go hand in hand. ‘ While the heathen, religion is now a myth, the Christian poet, to obviate the difficulty to'which he'is thus subjected, resorts to Mytho logy, where he oanfeast the imagination, and de light the fancy. Chaucer, Dry den, Shakßpeare; Milton-and-Pope, owe much of their poetic.'charac ter to the heathen-Mythology. Cowper.is an ex ample of exquisite taste; and delicate sentiment, with little of the fine frenzy or poetie fire; and the same is .also true of White. . Byron I oraked .toge ther materials from ievery system and religion, and blended-them with the fruits of his wild imagina tion. ■■■; .■ . - The Ghriatiah ireligion has poured light upon the .mind, enlarged the boundaries of knowledge, Und)likeiphiloSQphy,:enoroaehed'npon,the;limits of pbriafy. But poetiy .is not dehtinediito mltii matelyfailfrom: the earth, or find : mo-reception with the refined philosopher and the Christian. There is-aohord hi #he human soul which will al ways vibrate to its touch; and philosophy will sometimes pause, .and suspend the active energies ofithemind/and the pursuitsiof; life, when that chord trembles In unison with the hidden wires of the human heart. ' 1 k . . Hamilton College, April ,10th, 1860. LETTER FROM SYRTA. .. Mr. Geo. W. Hears, Corresponding Secretary of the S, S. Missionary Society, of the Tfestern Church, has received two letters from Mr. and Mrs. Benton, missionaries of the A. B. 0. F. M., at Bhamdun, Mt. Lebanon, which he has kindly placed at our disposal. We make the following extracts from Mr. Benton’s letter. That of Mrs. B. shall appear in our next: Dear Brother in Christ:— Your fraternal letter, and words of sympathy, and encouragement, we appreciate most highly, and most Separated from our native land, and from alinost all intercourse with our beloved associates, yp>ur letters to us are as islands in the ocean, .oases.in the great desert of life, social fountains of , mutual pleasure and friendship, in the renewing strength of which we can advance invigorated and prepared for missionary duty. . .. . . ..*i, . . < The past year, 1859, has witnessed some progress •of .qur mission iu Syria. But as a mission we are still : at work upon the great foundations of the enterprise, engaged in the translation of the Bible from the original Greek., to the Arabic language'; in the preparation ,and publication of books, the establishment and supervision oftbe primary schools, and the two Seminaries for training native helpers and pastors. Iu connexion with this station, previous to Augustlst, twelve sohools .had been opened during thejjast year; and fifteen other schools, supported by funds collected in Scotland, being located in our. neighborhood,.were offered to omr supervision. of the Druses, were gathered into these schools, and taught in the first rudiments of knowledge, and pf the Christian religion. The appearance of hostilities between the Christians and Druzeß in the month of August, suspended most of these schools for a time. Some have more recently been. resumed. Their .tendency is. to prevent or remove the causes of animosity and war, and in troduce knowledge and peace, and good will among these wild mountaineers. It was an argument with the Brazes lastsummer not to fight, because if they,did, the.inissionaries wouldstqp the schools for the educatiep. of their cfiildran. Audi a™ of opinion, that if no schools had been opened, there might have .been much more bloodshed and war. It is a new thing which we now hear, that among the Brazes, pne is sayipg' tp anptl»er * You are. a Christian—you are, a. Protestant. Yesterday a friend informed me, that as this remark was addressed hi him, he replied, If I am a Christian, »ive thanks to God j but you must b,e, changed before you can become one. Several of this Class—eemh Christians at least,- —have asked for Christian or dinances during,the,past year. In the Zahleh ease and our expulsion thence in May last, we have found a more satisfactory result than we dared at first to anticipate. By reasop of the very unsettled stete of. Syria, and the consequent injuries unredressed, which several Americans had suffered, and the communication of these facts to Washington, our Ambassador at Constantinople was advised from the department of state, to visit Syria, and ascertain the facts, and if possible, adjust and terminate all these difficulties. Accordingly he came, accompanied with his family, his lady, two daughters, spn ; and brother, and was greatly prospered in every. ease, at Beirut, Damas cus, Zahleh, Jaffa, &c. In his visit to Zahleh, a deputation, designated for this purpose, sought the pardon and oblivion of their unworthy act in our expulsion. The Ambassador replied, that much as his feelings might dictate the granting of their request, as the Representative of the United States Government, he could know nothing of pardon, but must demand full satisfaction. Their request however, aoknowledging their outrage, and often repeating their assurances, that ho such violence and outrage of our rights and treaties should evir be committed hereafter, allowed me, as ; chief prosecutor in the case to Suggest, if it might please . his excellency, that the farther prosecution of the case might be abandoned. And this suggestion was permitted to prevail. Was it not better in a missionary point of view to forgive ten thousand people, than to convict and punish half a dozen rioters and disturbers of the peace, and win the way for the gospel there 7 " I am happy Iso learn that you have taken up the "history of the Syrian “mission from the beginning in your preparation for the Monthly Concert. - It is more than 40 years since our first mis sionaries left Boston, and upwards of TO persons have been connected with the mission, sent out from the United States; about-one-third of whom have entered, as wo trust, into the heavenly rest. Rev. J. Wortabet, M. D., who has been located at Hasbeiya for several years, has taken his release ‘from the service of the mission. He is nowin 'England in the employment of the Turkish mis sions Aid Society. Of this society of British Christians contributing for the service in support of the missions conducted by American mission aries, you are' doubtless informed. How pleasant is this’exhibititfn of the unity of those who sustain foreign missionaries; and of the English and Ame rican nations! In good old England and in this anoient Phenieia; -u|>on Mount Lebanon and in your beautifhl city of brotherly love, our work, our hopes, our objects and aspirations, are one, that we PffijADELPHIAi THCKSfAT MAI 3, 1860, may witness ther manifestation and: Coming of the kingdom of God.- . It will delight the friends of missions throughout the world, to learn .that the Lord has greatly pros pered the word and means of instruction and grace upop Mount Lebanon during the past few years. The evidences of this prosperity now appear in the new members from different places, admitted to the Evangelical churches, and. in the increased num ber of candidates still seeking for admission; in the more regular attendance and deeper interest and solemnity of our Sabbath audiences, and of the women’s Bible class; in the multiplication- of our primary -and. Sabbath schools, and a more. ear-, nest demand for the preaching of the gospel through these most. highly approved instrument talities; and in the visible approximation of those in different communities WtejjKaveicoDtipued ffflr ano ther, and in so entire alienation from God. . . The indications of Divine -Providence appear in a remarkable manner to coincide with these pros perous events to>.encourage our faith and hope in God for the promised evangelization of Syria. Why is a royal carriage road, at the estimated ex pense of three millions of francs, just now made te pass as a new ray of ; light over this sacred moun tain ? Why|s; Zahleh now opened by the joint action,of the Ottoman and the -United States’ go vernments to American missionaries for the first time? The expulsion, of myself and family, in May last, from;that capital p£ the mountain, must and willj-turnsout for the- furtherance of the gos pel. God overrules the wrath of man and the violence of war, as well as employs the love of his people for the advancement of pur great Redeem er’s kingdom upon, the earth. He employs the most insignificant and. contemptible means for the accomplishment-of his eternal purpose,- It is a privilege to suffer in behalf of Christ, and our sufferings may be our most impressive proclama tion of the truth andgraeeofGod. . . . In conclusion, dear brother, I would anew ex press my thanks for your; salutations {and sympa thies,^and fraternal 'correspondence. The Lord from heaven prosper, and bless, all the .teachers and members of your Sabbath school enterprise. How much I would love to address them, and speak of this.ancient land, of the Bible; and ,!! I ever come tq the United States, I shall Want to come right to Philadelphia, and to see you all. Remember us .to all those classes; in cluding the infant class; which have so generously contributed, even to the..humblest child, who,has learned to make any sacrifice or self-denial for Christ. The question is not how much we must, but how much we may be allowed to give and do for Him who gave himself for us. Ever yours, in Christian love, > -■ Wm. A. Benton. ■ Bhamdun, Mount Lebanon, 14th February, 1860., THERESURRECTIONBODY . The ensuing extract is taken from that very interesting and, remarkable book, entitled “ The Stars and the Angels,” which has just been re _ published in this country by Messrs. W- S. & A. Martien, of Philadelphia. , The Spiritual Body. “All flesh is not the same flesh; but there is one kind of flesh of men, another flesh of beasts, another of fishes, and another.' of -birds. ;; “There is a natural body, qnd there te a.spirit ual body. “ HoWbeit, that was not first which is spiritual, 'bht that whieh is natural; and afterward that whieh is spiritual.” 1 Cor. xv. 39, 44, 46. - I Such is the information given us by an inspired .write? regarding,the relations of the natural and the spiritual body. The whole passage (l Cor. xv.) is worthy of a most careful examination; we have extracted three verses, whieh--more distinctly bear a scientific value. - From them we are warranted in inferring, first, that the human body has two distinct modifications —the natural and the spiritual states—both of them normal, and yet so different, that our know ledge of the one gives us littlehelptifi uuderstand ing:the qualities and functions of the other. We .may also infer,, from the 46th verse, that there is an order of development in the two states. ’ The first, which is the natural (or soul) state, is capa ble of having the second; or spiritual state; fieve loped from if; -the second,-or spiritual state, has also this peculiarity, that while it is incapable of originating either,itself or the natural state,,it te capable of being developed as a more advanced and more perfect inode of existence? These state ments which wehstye quoted, bear very much the character of scientific propositions. Haying ascertained that, the spiritual body has a normal character, so that its functions are not to be regarded as miraculous, we turn to other parts of Scripture to ascertain what those functions are. The resurrection body of Christ te the only human body, in.its,spiritual state,}-> ’- i: 11. “ Which : also said, TJejljm n »9.f GjtUlee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven ? This same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven,'Shall so come in like manner, as ye Save .seen him goiintq heaven.” '.'Acts,i.:. ;. . ivr;. /■. That the resurrection bodies of the saints will be possessed of this power,is proved, not only by the general promise of their'likeness to Christ, but by direct statement: ='■ )- 1 -- : • > : “Then-We. which are: alivesand remain, shalhbe caught up together withf/hcm in _ clouds, to meet the. Lord in the air.” 1 Thess. iv. 17. We are hot to suppose, however,'that this faculty of the spiritual body implies the’ absence of gravi tation; 'for without gravitation we-should not be able to walk, stand, or sifc-r’alkpf which both Christ and , the angels were able to. do- How this faculty will be possessed, we of knowing. It isone. peculiar. |o the -kwHlMto'JbaaTraad’iiafia: of its nature, we. need, not attempt to speculate on the: subject .further. tha& to'knpWrtbat the fact is certain. That the angels are possessed of this faculty is proved by the very circumstance of their visiting 'the earth and returning from! it. The : angel that appeared to Manoah and his Wife, ascended in the Jjame of the.altar nearly in the same manner as our Lord ascended from the Mount of Olives (Judges xiii. 20;) aud Gabriel being commanded to fly swiftly, arrived'at the time of the everiing saerifice, : on the-day set apart by Danief. for-humiliation and ■prayer. (Daniel ix. 21.) 1 . ■ - -r * : 3. The spiritual body has (lie power of passing through solid substances, anJ'appearing or disap pearing at pleasure. 1 The three angels that appeared to Abraham in ‘Mamre; did not approach gradually frhm a distance, .as two of them did that samej evening to Lot, but suddenly stood by him as he sat, in the tent door, at mid-day. .. j , The angel that hppeared io GidOon, w 0 first seen Sitting under an oak; which was in ■ Ophrah (Judges vi. 11;) but after the interview he sud denly went out of his sight., / verse 21. > The angel Gabriel appealed, to Zacharias ashe was offering incense in His coming and his departure must have been concealed. ‘ ' Theaugelthatrescued Peter from prison must have passed through.the walls hr gates of the prison in .ord,er-'to reaph .him. . : Aetsjxii, ,7. The spiritual body of -Christ was possessed • of the same power. : A careful examination of the history will show that thebodj of : Christ came out from' the sepulchre before th£ angel rolled away the stone. The. angel descended from heaven, and rolled away the ,stone, to show, that he was risen, not to release him from .captivity, " , At Emmaus, after discovering himself to them in the breaking of bread, it is said that he vanished out of their sight. " (Luke Xxivißl.) ‘‘ The same ■day, at evening- also, being. J]i e Arst day of the week, when the doors were shut where the diseiples were assembled for (ear of the jews,, came Jesus, and stood in the midst, and satth unto them, Peace be unto you.”- (John xx. 19.) “ And after eight days, again his disciples vVeiU within, -and Thomas ■with them. Then came Jesus* the,doors being shut, and stood in ,the midst, and said, Peace be .unto you.” Verse 26. ' 1 . , Taking into consideration the manner in which these incidents' are related,'sqd the circumstances with the®Vwe that these actions of- our Lord’s spiritual body, were, strictly speaking, - miraculous; .they w§re natural, and characteristic, of the body whidh he now possessed. True miracles are never wrought, except for the purpose of proving something not previously re wealed; and when the .miracle has. been wrought, the proof is so complete that no dodbt can remain in any candid mind. If these .extraordinary powers now exhibited in Christ’s' spiritual 'body were miraculous, they could prove'nothing that was not ’known 'before. The. only thing to he proved at this time was the-reality, the power, and the glory of the resurrection body. But so far from these wonders being calculated to prove the reality of His resurrection, they .produced, the very opposite impression; for the disciples imagined that they saw a spirit, and not : a-material body. It was even necessary for him to draw their attention to the grosser qualities of matter—“ Handle me and see,” said he; “ for a spirit hath not fiesh and bones, as ye see me have.” This shows where their doubts really lay, and if any miracle had been needed to convince them, it would not ‘be such .iniraclesias: coming: through walls, and appearing and’ disap pearing from their sight- ,Eb would, 'no. doubt, desire that his disciples shou|d_,have sensible evi dence of the superior power find glory of the re surrection body, which’they. themselves were to possess, and -no-idea wonld : have>been. conveyed by Paul s language, when, he said- that our bodies are to be fashioned like unto His glorious body, if the only natural acts of that body were nothing differ ent from those of the bodies which they already possessed—eating, speaking, walking, and being handled. If our bodies, which are sown in weak ness are to be raised in power, what illustration would Christ’s resurrec%n body give of that power, if their actions were not according to its ordinary and natural capabilities ? 'What a glorious < prospect does this present of • the fnture state of the blessed! The whole universe ..of crea.tion is thrown open to us, and we are made capable of knowing and enjoying: it in the service and communion,of, our Father, i^,Crealor,; ; . THE ACADEMY OF HATUEAL SCIENCES The following interesting and truthful descrip tion of this Institution, is, from the pen of a mem ber of the Bible Class' connected with the ‘Firsf; Church of Manayunk, under the crire of Ttev.’ A.!.' Culver. If grew out of a visit of the class to the Academy which took place on Easter Monday. Besides cothniittee-rooms, library and other et cetera/ the building contains two oblong, lofty, spa cious and well lighted: halls, one above the .other, and surrounded with three tiers of galleries each, along which you pass to. inspect the almost num berless treasures of the place. The upper hall is devoted chiefly to orriitho logy;. the lower to zoology; ibut the. floors of. both: together with theinneti sides of .the.galleries, are ®v®!W e di:hy iatapdg containing .Jpoggapdfl- rippn thousands of niineralogical, geological,,and coh chologicai speCini'ens, besides a tolerable arid ex ceedingly interesting sprinkling of entomological and ichthyological 'curiosities. - > ; , ; : To the; general observer,..the; chief attraction is the ornithological department. Incredible, as ,it ipay appear, this section contains’ no fewer than thirty thousand birds I—the largest and most va luable collection, it is believed, 1 iff the whole world. And . no, wonder:; for ‘every exploring ■ expedition sent out, from these shores seems to furnish its quota to the already magnificent collection. , Iff febt, during the visit in question, the writer of-this saw Several specimens; but newly recbived, awaiting the process of stuffing, arid the usual identifieationjsud arrangement "aftertheirkind.” Qf course, in one necessarily brief and rapid examination, the spectator is Jikely fo.be rather bewildered thri.ii Satisfied. To write 11 30,000” is exceedingly easy; and the unit-rind four Ci phers present no very .formidable obstacle to'the general-reader; [bnt, invest “these dry bones "of numerical notation with all tbe known varieties of. form, and function, and pinmage, have an aggregate that is qybrwhetoing. ' i All that youAriffe 1 seeri—rill that you ever— arid‘many that ,you; we^er-i-f-expected. to see, are .there. . From the eagle .and ostrich,.to the hum ming-bird and wren;. the sanguinary vulture; the huge condor of Sooth America; the owls of unspeakable solemnity rind unconquerable spite; stilted' troops of the spindle-shanked - variety; whole: battalions: of ; twittering v and flattering .nonrentities, that flash, ,and ‘gleam, and glitter with the peerless radiance and beauty of some far-off realm of fadeless loveliness and light “Beyond the sunset, and the baths • ' i Of all .the western stars and brighter than all, and more beautiful than -all, of unimagined elegance of form and deli cacy. of ti.nt, is the bird of Paradise, with his sainfly mantle of soft, silken, silvery floss, .floa.t ing downward on either side. ‘ And in the 'midst of these, And as'a foil to these, you stumble occasionrilly ori some uncouth, dun, ragged little rascal, the tolerated “Topsy” of the brilliant assemblage, a mere splash of un gainly limbs and rumpled feathers, quite true to nature, but apparently fixed up anyhow, arid of no particular account to any body. " - With such attractions around you,-only the strident, with a personal “craze ” in that diree eleveri thousand species of shellf, with the mi nerals, rocks,,' beetles, star-fish, polypi, «&c., al ready alluded to as occupying the several tables ranged along the galleries, and across the floor of the upper hall. . : - : ’ ; • Pew things in *the lower hall arrest the at tention more strongly than the polar bear, shot, it appears, by some of Dr. Kane’s party. He is a lump of a fellow,'seven-feet in longitude, if be is an : ineh, and bulky iri proportion; and weighed, at thedame of his eapture, only sixtebn hundred pounds. He would seem a tolerable match for his forty-second cousin, the .Bengal tiger, whose skeleton is seen on the opposite side of the room. " " • ' '’ - ; The skeleton department is peculiarly rich, and affords rare facilities to the amateur in Com parative Anatomy. Here, deservedly promi nent, is the fossil skeleton of the Irish elk. Never talk again of antlers after that! On the skull' of that "huge pre-Adamite,” tile Masto don, it is hardly possible to look without some thing of awe. Not spot the. Egyptian.mummies, round the c.orner, to your left. They are siinply disgust ing; and this deponent would give one hearty and unanimous vote to have them incontinently bundled off to somewhere Underground, v In the gallery, immediately above the cases of . skeletons, the enthusiastic phrenologist will find himself “in clover.” It is a literal Golgo tha, with 'human skulls in any quantity, and of every type. '! The collections of fishes, reptiles, and the hut-' terflyhrojod, are amopg the largest in the world. The Jitter are not ..shown, to. visitors, but are kept for study and away from the light-expo sure to which would soon bleach them sufficiently to render them valueless; Of-the* former, the nucleus was a private collection, presented somewhere about 1824,’ by Lucien Bonaparte. As compared with others, the Mammals are in the minority; but even this department is ra pidly filling up. . The monkey family fully compensates in hi deousness what iti may be lacking -in numbers. His high mightiness, Don Chimpanzee, is grin ning; at yon .with the same horrible leer, that greeted your first incursion into the domain of hatnral history. Otherwise than grotesque, a monkey couldn't be,- if he would; but there are scamps in this collection, that seem hprhdestined to the gallows. . You leave them wjllingly to admire their feline lurry neighbors, that fairly tempt you to pass your ungloved palm along their shiny coats. • . . ' It may not be generally known that the Aca demy, which is located in Broad Street, is open to visitors on Tuesdaya and Fridays,.from one o’clock till subset, and . that the admission is by 'ticket, procured gratis (pom any of the mem bers. The Secretary, Dr. Fisher, is an obliging and intelligent guide, who proved, in. a brief address tq the class, his .ability.to ■ supply all needful information,;and to vindicate the inti mate and. durable connection existing between Natural Science and Evangelical Religion. MINISTERIAL POPULARITY. There are two kinds of this popularity. One is founded rather upon ability in the pulpit, in thdngreat congregation; the other upon pastoral faithfu|ness out of it, from house to house. Per haps we should say there is a third kind, or rather a balanced union of the two, but such exact union may be too scarce to deserve attention. One or the other a.litUe predominates in the case of al most every preacher. Now, the point aimed at by this brief article, is the respectful submission to the ministerial reader’s good sense, of the fact that, of the two kinds alluded to, the least im posing, the apt-to-be-undervalued kind, “from house to house,” is the preferable; and that..in the preacher’s aim to be balanced, the care had better be to secure to the humbler side any devia tion from equipoise. A preacher’s position for pulpit eloquence is accorded more by the hearers’ heads than hearts; but that for pastoral intimacy and faithfulness while visiting from house to house, is granted rather by their hearts. Heart attractions are of much the more worth—they are more ef fectively manageable; and, in connexion with pe culiarpoints of human nature, learned'from visit ing the . people, as they cannot be learned from bool?s, they facilitate a rapid rising in spiritual power, if notin fruitless popularity among “itch ing ears/' . ; There is a manifest course for the safety of a preacher’s 'own*soul, as well as for the souls of his hearers. Visiting walks are; safer’ and more use ful ;than pulpit climbings, notwithstanding any of Satan’s illusive suggestions to worldly ambition. Let us take heed. Christian'Advocate and Journal. OUTLIVING QBE USEFULNESS. : A recent number of the New York Observer has-.an excellent article on this subject, and one well calculated to dispel the gloom.which some times in .sickness, weariness or old age, depresses the heart of the . Christian,’and makes him cry, “0 Lord! why are thy chariot wheels so lona in coming?” v : b . in .fgct, the true, humble, devoted Christian ,ilever ou|li ves his usefulness. Is he a.minister of the gbspfel ? ' He may be with disease ; he may be laid aside from the active’ servich of the sanctuary. Decrepitude, old age, second child hood even may be bis lot; but amid. all these, he raay.be useful:: .“Ifhey also serve who only stand and wait.” God is often served as fully by the patience, faith and childlike trust of his people in him at such’times, as by more active and, to human appearance, effective labors. That patience and trust more fully illustrate the faith of the and often lead sinners to Christ who have resisted the most earnest and impassioned appeals. Is it a private Christian who fears to outlive his usefulness? Such a one has usually in health labored for his Master’s cause with zeal and ener gy; 'bnt .now he is laid aside?--protracted sick ness, paralysis, or old age, have prevented his com pleting the plans he had projected, or continuing the work in wbieh his heart was so much interested. ■Has he then outlived his usefulness? By no moans.; . The long years of feeble health which ?P°?P ac 'tat Amos Lawrence for active business, were the happiest and most useful of his life; the year of agony which Dr. Nathaniel Kendrick en dured Ore his Master called him to the sanctuary above; was not only marked by more signal dis plays iof the Divine love in his soul thau lie bad ever’before experienced, but bis patience and trust in God were’ the’ means of leading many to Christ. The last years of many an eminent saint, when ■H;the strong, men bowed themselves," and ithe grinders ceased because they Were feW'—when even the mind, once so vigorous and capable of such wondrous effovts, bad lost its vigor in the craziness of its tabernacle, have yet been full of ■usefulness. Though the logical powers have gone; itheapersuasiveteloquence ceased, the comprehen sive grasp of the intellect failed, yet the love which vivified and glorified all, remains—and love is not ouly stronger than disease, weakness and death, but it is stronger than death itself. The Apostle John never so fully displayed his Christian cha racter, never so effectually won souls to the Master, as when, w.ith all the infirmities of a hundred years upon him, borne in the arms of his affection ate disciples to the assembly of the saints, he could only stretch forth his withered'hands and say, “Little children, love one another,” MOURNING DRESS,, The practice of putting on sombre garments, as'an‘exhibition of grief'fqr the death of friends, Tha£‘those who attract notice by their singularity. Twenty-five or thirty years ago; an attempt was made by some excellent clergymen and other leaders of public opinion to subvert this custom, and with some success. But the change did not last long, and the practice of putting on mourning is now as ge neral as ever before. But there are really very serious objections to it. ; It is often a heavj burden upon the bereaved. Mourning garments are.more expensive than others, and when the head of the family is cut off, it is a severe tax upon the diminished resources of the household to.add to the expenses of sick ness, and burial an entire outfit of . black for the family. With those to .whom the expense is not an important consideration, the confusion and in congruity of turning the house of death into a milliner’s shop, and.breaking up the hours which should be 1 sacred to solace and grief by talk of .dress, is exceedingly unpleasant to the bereaved. Besides, what is the significance of a mourning dress? It is’’worn to express grief; but is it ne cessary to parade our grief before the world ? And is grief the only feeling of- the Christian’ over the .grave of,the departed? Yet we put nothing upon our, garments, to signify Christian faith, hope and consolation.. ..It is only a dreary waste : of black, expressive of unmixed, hopeless, inconsolable sor row: 5 ’ ’For this reason, if would seem that if we are to wear any peculiar costume to signify that we have be'en. bereaved,'unmitigated black is most in appropriate, and fails entirely to express the emo tions with which the Christian contemplates the death of a friend. Custom requires of a man only the wearing of a “weed” of crape about the hat —why should mot .some similar emblem of sorrow answer every purpose in the dress of woman ? A .band.of crape, perhaps, scraps the bonnet—a cloud of black laee resting upon and half covering the more cheerful .colors bf the trimming ? “ Deep mourning,” as it is’called,. does hot express the Christian view of death. It is, in fact, too dismal and hopeless for any form that has ever been taken ..by, the religious element. It is of evil tendency by continually reminding the mourner of his sor row, and iiever suggesting hope or consolation. Why then -should it'be worn ? The > heart does uotneed .to aggravate its grief, by continual me mentoes of it, and the truly bereaved never desire to make an ostentatious display of their sorrow; on what account then ban the wearing of mourning be justified? PASTORAL VISITING. John-Wesley said: “By repeated experiments, ■we learn that, though a mad preach like an angel, he will peither collect nor preserve a society which is coilected, without visiting them from house to house.” ■ A writer in an exchange says; “ One hundred' years' of Methodistic labors, sufferings, .and successes, have;greatly addedtothe strength •of the reniark.’’ . And yet the well-nigh unanimous testimony of accredited writers’on the subject is, that the pulpit is the chief source of the preacher’s usefulness. ■For weakness or indolence there, running about "from house to house is a poor substitute. The old est settled minister in this city, a man who for half a century has stood with ever growing influence and power at the head of an important charge, has confided his social intercourse with his flock almost wholly to occasions -of* sickness or bereavement. -We by no means undervalue pastoral visitation.; but it is idle to attempt to make its place superior, or even equal to that of pulpit labor. To do that, would be to oppose the experience, not of one hun dred, but df fifteen times one hundred years. * JOHN ADAMS. “The elder Adams was the son of a worthy cobbler.” : ■' • It was,, owing to the very fact of his humble parentage that the elder Adams became what he was. 1 have never seen the following story in print,but if legitimately d&cended to me by oral tradition, having been told my great grandfather by “ the pious Deacon Adams, of the town of Braintree,” himself: . The Deacon, during a temporary absence, had set John to cutting out the . “uppers” for some shoes; hilt—like the Chinaman, who, in making a 'pair df J breedheslTom 'a ;^attera“fuf dished by some prudent captain, had faithfully copied the patches VOL. IY.- -NO. 30.—Whole No. 201. Christian Intelligencer. which his wife had put in the seat of the old ones, John had embellished every “upper” he had cut, with the three-cornered hole by which the patterns had hung cm .their accustomed nail, “I saw,” the Deacon,„“l couldn’t make a shoemaker, of him, so X fput Jitm to Ic&TYivng jpTOLTiscript. Knowing the scriptures. While it is certain, and should always be kept prominently before the mind, that mere knowledge does not make a man religious, we fear that-many, running into the other extreme, underrate the importance of knowledge.. There is much said in many of the periodicals of the day that would almost justify the conclusion attributed to the Ro manists, that “Ignoranee is the mother of devo tion.” Some continually decry doctrinal discus sions as unfit for any but the schoolmen-. . Our religion consists, in two things, .believing and doing, Butbpwcan a man believe if he doea not know? How can he receive that testimony which he has never heard? Can a man trust in a Saviour that has never been preached to him ? Can a man have peace of conscience through the blood of Christ wlien he, has never heard of the crucifixion ? Can he soar heavenward on the wings of hope if he has never heard of the New Je rusalem ? Plainly no mab who is ignorant of the great truths of our religion can be. strong in faith, giving glory to God. ; “He that .cometh to God must .believe that he is, and that he is a re warder of them that diligently seek him.” Equally important is knowledge of the Scrip tures, if wu wish to live as a good disciple. How can we perform duties of which we are ignorant? Will a man keep the Sabbath who has never heard of the commandments ? How can he ob serve a sacrament if he knows nothing of its ap pointment? Away then with the thought that an ignoramus in biblical matters may be a giant in piety. . We perhaps think too little of the importance of mere knowledge, no matter what may be the department. The knowledge of the speculative truth that the world is round has changed the face of the world. The steam engine, with all its influence upoh mankind, is due to the knowledgeof a simple fact in science. The electric telegraph, that spreads human thoughts on wings of light ning across continents and seas is a similar in stance. The truth that all men, as to natural rights, are created equal, is shaking the proud est thrones. So in the religious world, the knowledge of the fact that Christ,died, the just for the unjust, that he might bring us unto God, is changing the hearts of millions, while such principles as that expressed in the Golden Rale, “ Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them,” aTe driving out war and oppression, and eyery cruelty, and changing the wilderness into the garden of the Lord. No man’s piety can rise higher than his know ledge. To know better than we do is possible and common; to do better than we know is impossible. Accordingly, the Scriptures continually urge the importance of knowing the truth. “ With all thy getting get understanding.” “Grow in grace, and in the knowledge bf our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ." “That ve may Be filled with the knowledge of his will in all wisdom and spiritual understanding, that ye; might walk worthy of the Lord, unto all being fruitful in every good work, and increasing in, the knowledge of God.” , Fervent piety often utters the prayer, Open tlioh mine eyes, that I may behold won drous things out of thy law.” ACT QUICKLY. Whether you are a preacher or a church-mem ber, be entreated to act speedily. In the kingdom of graee, each year’s, nay, each month’s or week's crop of effects is seed for the next brief period, and the crop of that, in turn, seed for the next; one counts for a thousand, two for ten thousand. What a multiplied multiplication, is, alas ! overlooked by the procrastinator ;. a multiplication notin regard to simply wheat or dollars, but alas ! alas! precious, ceaseless souls. Surely the professor of religion who trifles.a way. hours, or even minutes, is on the way to give solemn.accountto the Ancient of days. Good soon done is more than doubly done. In less than an hour another branch bf instrumental ity, by another person, may shoot out of the first branch. There will be increasingly multiplied branchings off from person to person till the judg ment moment. We charge each reader, as in the Diyine presence, to find out his or her own prac ticable modes,’not only for some usefulness, but for the furthest possible usefulness, and then to act with uncompromising speed. Now! now! The Judge’s eye is upon us. When the last trumpet sounds, let it not appear that a little lazy.b think ing about the matter” for a week or, a day has just prevented one great last crop of effects from all former ones: • ‘ . ■ A PREACHER’S SELF-QUESTIONING. Am I living to the greatest possible good pur pose upon earth ? Have I enough holy ambition to resolve, as did a certain preacher of the last century, that supposing the economy of grace to admit at no one time, upon earth, more than a sin gle man to be;in all respects just what God would have him, that then I be that very one? Am I right unless aiming as high as possible ? If the groat white throne should just now appear, could my own common sense deem it appropriate for the Judge to smile on me while I was conscious of having knowingly aimed lower than I might? If my own heart does not assure me—if, in my own sight, I do not seem to be just right—am I right in the sight of Him who knoweth all things? When I attain to undoubted safety of my own soul as a steward over ministerial gifts for winning others, wilLnot my mind he cheerfully clear under sudden suggestion of tests whether from a present printed article, or the anticipated judgment-seat? In view of the duty of greatest possible usefulness, What is my safest course just now? Shall I for get the .answer to this last question? THE ANOINTING OF THE SPIRIT. The first and chiefest preparation which should be sought by those who are looking forward to ■the ministry, should he the anointing of the Spirit. Discipline, learning, power of thought and of expression, are noble things to use in Christ’s service, and there is abundant scope for their ex ercise in the work of the ministry; but the graces resulting from the anointing of the Spirit, purity of heart, aspirations for holiness, a spiritual appre hension of the truth, power in prayer, the love of Christ shed abroad in the soul as the governing principle of action—these are still more important. They are essential qualifications of a good minister of Jesus Christ. These are to be sought, labored for, diligently and long. They will no more come spontaneously to a man, than a knowledge of mathematics or of languages will eouie spontaneously to a man, J They must be sought. Now and then a man seeks them as Henry Martyn and Eobert Murray McCheyne sought them,: and what power such men have with God and with men! how the work of the Lord prospers in their hands! If all who enter the ministry would do so, the song of salvation would speedily roll round the earth. Oh for the time when all the ministers of Christ shall be anointed from on high for their work —when they shall be full of the Holy Ghost! Credulity of Infidels —Charles the Second, hearing Vossius, a celebrated free thinker, repeat ing some incredible stones about the Chiuese, said, “ This is'a Very strange’mau. He believes every thing but the Bible!” Christian Instructor. Chr. Advocate and Journal. S. S. Times.