GENESEE EVANGELIST.*.-Whole No. 723.; THE SHEPHERD’S CARE. , DBA* Bno. Me An's:— i'. ! It Is partly due to your Salutatory that I have just •written the following rhymes. I know not .that they hstte any merit; yet, I know that tf they.he4„heen m our Hymn Book, they would hare been sung more than once, in public worship, during the few years.of .rty ministry. It seems to me that the ministry is meageriy set forth in our book. I preach on education for the ministry, full onoe a year. I celebrate the anniversary of my installation as often as it returns. Ordinations and installations are not uncommon services whence; the ministry is a topic which claims some variety. The last of the four hymns in the Prayer Book ought to be In our Psalmist. Should yon sea fit to publish, the lines I have written, they may possibly prompt some one to write a good hymn on some aspect of the general-sub* ject’i and I think that any one of nine tenths of the vo lumes in my library, is not worth one.really good hymn; such, for Instance, as, My faith looks up : to thee,l would rather he the author of this hymn) than the autbor of any one volume that any one of the three great Doctors Alexander has written. Your neighbors “Stand up, Stand up for Jesus, 1 ’ is another meritorious hymn—we stng it almost every: week in some of our meetings. Fraternally, r . The pastor’s Ufa is peaceful, , v , f HU charge, the shepherd’s teres He feeds his, flock with wisdom, He lifts the voice of prayer. He leads Ip venlant pastures, And by the silver rills, That murmur sweetly flowing From everlasting hills: How beautiful on mountains, The herald’s feet appear, Proclaiming the glad tidings— Salvation, peace are here. So beautiful the pastor’s, In sandals well bedight, Beyond the bloom of roses, Or sheen of lilies white. The gospel’s preparation, And readiness for peaces - - In these he journeys heavenward, His fool steps never cease, Till aU hU charge afe folded:; Within the Saviour’s breast, Or he with all his fathers, Is gathered to his rest. Till on the mount of glory, Amid the holy throng, He praties God, his Saviour, In one eternal song. f§Otsi!«!Speraiting,against the acquirement} on thei^ of coUversatiOhal ability; and one of very considerable potency,-we take to he the unfortunate disposition and practice with young women to devotS most of their spare time to works of fiction. - .p > It will surprise him who for a moment reflects how large an amount of thisftsubstance or shadow, rather, may be taken : into kjie mind without any perceptible increase in its growth. The literature of fietion yields, unquestionably) a large amount of excitement of a certain ki&d. Like some other stimulants, however, it leaves-its victims in a state of mental vacuity. If it happens at times to par take less of the sensation -|ype, we shall find it still wanting in all those quhlities best calculated either to enlarge, to invigorate, or to enrich the mind, fiction is essentially, unsuggestive, and instead of stimulating the-thinking or the reason ing faculties, actually disposes to -somnolency and languor. . • - \ • - . - In the “ Book Table ” of One of our public jour nals, we find the following imparks on a new work of the class!to"whieh we ®ieT[Sci3enW of the story are fitted to each other with much skill of - literary joinery; and inasmuch as the au thor is a merciful man, and has • readers also who ought to be merciful, and can make his characters turn out as he pleases, we have always the com fortable assurance from the start, on taking up one of his’books; that ■ all the persons-to whom we are introduced will come Out right, and that what ever the complications and catastrophes may be or may threaten, the curtain will- descend at the ; last page on at’least a dozen most blissful weddings with spinster aunts and ■ bachSlor uncles; all rich and good-natured, and overflowing equally with love, friendship, and felicity ; so it is in the book before us, and if the people who are therein de scribed did not live together comfortably after he left them, it was not because our excellent author had not done them the very amplest justice, in making them all both good and lueky before th§y passed from his hands!’’ , This certainly hits the-promi neut features ofa vast pumb irof thebo'okswhich so engross the leisure,-dufori inately, of the young women of the present day. "at is plain that books of this character are betjp.calculated to satisfy, than to stimulate the mind: The reader finds in their perusal everything finished to his hand. All is performed by the au thor, and that so thoroughly, that the reader has only to keep his eyes cipen; it will be just as well if his mind goes fast asleep. There may be, and doubtless are exceptions, but as far as we have observed, we have generally found those minds the most insipid and hollow which have i mbibed the most of this food; James Boggs. Fiction even if it does r.ot contaminate, in otter words, if it be what is called; moral fiction, brings little indeed, we think, either to warm the heart or elevate the sentiments. That class of fiction termed the best by some— we mean that which is based on the actual persons, or events of historic record—yields but meagre re turns for'his 'perusal, who seeks to enrich his memory with topics the purposes of conversation. For real know ledge, he will find that the license usually taken with facts, and the' false lights which it throws' over characters and scenes, but lead to bewilder and dazzle the blind; , and this to such a degree as to make it scarcely doubtful if it be not a serious misfortune, that the actual facts, e vents, and per sonages of history should ever have been pressed into the service of fiction. It has been wittily and truly said, that no watches so thoroughly deceive us as those which are sometimes right. Gould anything be more ap plicable than this, to what are ; usually denomi nated “historical novels'?” Truth to all, but prominently to the young, is of the most .vital importance; and the real and practical in all periods of life, and for all purposes; are of vastly higher value than the romantic and the visionary. Besides, the practice in early life, of reading for the mere amusement of the fancy,' inevitably leads to the ultimate avoidance of read ing whatever fails to who enter on life accustomed to naughtshgt trifling and shadowy themes, will with those of real solidity and-impoirtance, when these,' as they must, present themselves in their turn. Works of fiction, it might be supposed, would furnish conversation, if not with others, at least with those who are themselves accustomed to their perusal, but strange to say fiction dpes not even per forui this office well!, The leading hits, the salient points of; a ; few, or of a jmniber ..df quaint; or striking characters, startling adventures, or wild Rifel', 'iIARCH 22, 1860. Respectfully submitted, t. CONVERSATION AND READING. scenes, by repetition, Soon ‘pall on - the minds of those to whom, from previous perusal, they are already familiar; and we can scarcely conceive,of a more dreary punishment than that of two con firmed npvel readers, condemned exclusively to each other's society for any length of time, with no other mental aliment than the re-hash which their memories might be able to reproduce from this unsubstantial source. The readers of fiction, as a general thing, sur render themselves entirely to its dramatis personae and the scenes described, while the author of the illusion with all his creative power, holds nothing like so important a place in their estimation as punch bears, in relation to • his puppets, in the minds of 'his auditory, or the cook, who furnishes savoiy viandt, in the mind of the epicure. Nothing can come of, nothing; and how should % of -conversation, which is in itself an elegant as well as a useful art, he the result of a mental training like this? We have known a certain species of conversa tion to grow out of a constant feasting on facetious fiction, if that can be called conversation, which is, com posed a]mosfcsolelyof light and laughable anecdotes, ion mots and puns. We have oceasion ally met persons addicted to a habit of this kind, w ?!9> ev S r . straining after something farcical: or ftnny,.seemed; to imagine, .that ceaseless,cachinar fWP P BS . tk B :9nd and aim-of alksocial/jntercourse; and that to be able to maintain perpetual hilarity, wherever thcy.appeared, was to shine. But in any circle, anecdotes introduced,neither for, embellish ment nor illustration, jbut as the staple of talk, by no . means, make a .bearab.le entertainment, much less conversation, except for the shortest possible period of time, or for the most frivolous of all vapid people. ~.. .It-were a most valuable service to the young, Mr. Editor,, for some. : one of sage, experience in theyplume of,-life an.dj in -books, to present some wisp counsel on. the. pelgction of works suitable to develop and energize the mind, andto enrich the memory with thoughts, ideas, and- themes adapted tp'occasional and varied conversation. The, sub ject seems, to us well worthy a volume; but- if some one or more, sir, of your own able editorial staff cpnld be induced to devote the time requisite to a series of short articles in - your columns, on helps ,to ,conversation, -they-could- not fail of awakening interest, or.of being alike welcome and useful. . ; , There are, some, it, is ; true, oil whom - the best precepts pud the.sagest advice are as .treasures cast upon quicksands,;al,wiays.lopt,; - ,Bu|, there are others, amo.ng-yqur youth .of-generous,impulses, and with ardent -desires iforiJmprovement, op; whom a few well-digested hints- of this nature would by no means.be thrown away. M. For the American Presbyterian. ' THE TIME IS SHOET.” of |3 in one of our Saßbathischb'drclassesinthis'city, answered the questions of his teacher so readily, was so well acquainted with Bible history, that it was evi dent his parents were doing their duty; towards him in the important matter of home religions instruction. ... .. ...... - ,He liyed;near i me,.,and as-his-father was a. qpiet reserved map,belongingto, the chnreh,. put not known- as. prominent at all*. I felt -that jt was both possible andagood thing, to be faithful in tliq more retired duties of life, .as -well as to be forward, and to “let your light shine’’ more luminously., A few.evenings since, -that father went, across the street to see a sick neighbor, one who had-kept his room for four long years. He prayed wifch the sick man, and deft him. One week after that evening the sick man-bad died And was buried, and a darkand desolate place too was the home of the faithful, praying Christian father that night. The wife was there, bowed with grief, the children all mourning, and kind friends were there, treading noiselessly through the house. They had come to assist in convey ing to the cars'all that was mortal of him, who, one week before, went in full health and vigor across the street to pray with his sick neighbor. A sorrowful party accompanied that stricken family to a town in the interior to bury that beloved husband and father. He had come home from his business feeling ill, the next evening after his visit to the sick neighbour, and in less than five- short days his spirit went to heaven, having left earth within a few hours of the departure of his neighbor across the way. ' When he found he was dying, his pastor was sent for, to whom he gave the blessed evidence that all was peace. Is not this a solemn call to you,'dear parents, to be faithfnl in the instruction of your children at all times, never waiting until they grow older, until their minds are better suited ko receive in struction ; for like the quiet, faithful parent men tioned above, one short week from to-day may find yon befog carried to the' house appointed for all the living? Have yon a sick neighbor? Don’t wait until he grows worse, to be sent for, but go at once, and perforin yonr duty as a Christian to him —a faithful prayer and conver sation with him may be blessed to the saving of his soul, and you and'he may have the blessed privilege of entering heaven together. In a single word, it may be too late. Yon may be no more of earth. “Brethren the time is short, be ye steadfast, unmoyahle, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye-know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord.” ■.V G. W. M. KEYS OF THE HEARTS. There is a key to every man’s heart—though some have conibination locks, and it requires both skill and patience to open them. Yet in every man’s heart—as in that tiny mechanism of. Swiss invention—there sleeps a little bird of song, which, can you but learn to wind it aright, will start up at your call and imitate the notes of love that you have been taught of God. It is worth years.of toil to teach that bird the song of heavenly love. “All the little mean work of our nature,” says Mrs. Stowe, applying to the heart a figure from housekeeping, “all the little mean work of our nature is generally done, in a small, dark closet, just a little back” of the subject in which we pro fess to be interested. We do not suffer our mean ness to come to the light even of our own, con sciousness—if wo can help that. But when we find ourselves parrying off some appeal for -kind ness, giving way to some prejudice against others, inventing excuses for disregarding them—however plausible all this may seem to us —it is a most unhappy frame off mind—this'is not love at work -—but. some lurking selfishness, in the dark closet, is pulling: the wires, confounding moral distinc tions,-and perverting all good and generous affec tions;: : THE ITALIAN QUESTION. ~y Every item of news from Europe seems to indi cate that this question, just now the most absorb ing in the, political ,circles of the Continent, ap proaches ,a crisis. What the- solution of it will be, no human foresight. seems to be able to divine. It may be in favor of “liberty,” and open the way for,the spread of thb truths of the Christian religion, and the enfranchisement of the human mind;, and it may also be the opposite, and rivet the. fetters of despotism more firmly than ever oyer, the Italian people. - . The active elements of the solution seem to be the following: the London Morning Post of Feb. 3, says that “a virtual alliance has been effected between England and France, for the settlement of Italian affairs, ’’ not by treaty, but “from the fofee of' circumstances, and that it already begins t 6 produce its consequences—that it is determined that no intervention shall take place in Italy, and that the people shall be left to their own devices-. The French troops are to be withdrawn from northern -Italy and from Rome at a convenient opportunity.” Now, if this resolution can-be ad hered to, it is evident tliat the question would soon work, out its own solution. The curse of Italy has been the presence of foreign or mercenary troopsj keeping the people in subjection to their rulers. Left to j herself, she would before this time have been free and united; and will now soon inevitably and surely be free and united, if the resolution of France and England can be main tained. But there, are elements of opposition to contend with, the effect of which cannot be foreseen or cal culated. The Pope has come to a full stop, and apparently made up his mind to die by it, or to remain as he is—in possession of his "temporal power—like the fat woman and the police-officers, when she sat down, and said, “Well, if you want anything of me, or want me to go anywhere, you must move me.” lie does not mean to give up any of his provinces; indeed, lie is "in danger of becoming very conscientious, and saying, “They belong to the Church and not to me, and I cannot consent to give them up; it is impossible.” In this state of mind on the part off the old man, no, solution of the Italian question is feasible, but a violent one: It will be necessary to forqe him, or he will do nothing in the premises. .The Em peror’s advice he will not take. Rut force applied in such a case is a dangerous experiment.. It may be fatal in many ways. Arch bishop Hughes says there is; “a key which, if the Pope only touches it with one of his little fingers; would convulse kingdoms and provinces;”: and, from therstate of things in France, it would seem as if the Pope will not fail to touchthiekey, if it becomes necessary to his interests Wdo so. Louis Napoleon is a shrewd man, but. he may find the elements of strength brought against Mm more formidable than he supposes. Let us see what they are. There; are eighty bishops and arch bishops—several of the latter being cardinals, and boldingseatsas members of the “Senate;” there are forty; thousand priests, or cures, and assistant cures, who have charge of parish churches and “chapels-of-ease;” there are forty seminaries of learnipg, of various grades,, in which there is a large numbet'of .students, directfy under the con trol of the priests and bishops; besides, there is an increased and increasing number of monks and nuns in the religious houses; in a word, Catholi cism at this moment is in a better situation to make a struggle for any of its favorite aims, more formidable and successful, than at any time since the conclusion of the first Napoleon’s days. It has spread; its roots, strengthened itself, and flou rished to a wonderful extent. It knows its power, and evidently rejoices in it. It- is even confident and menacing, maintaining a bold front and a de • termined .position ; and this has never been more clearly manifested than during the last few weeks. The danger of the Pope’s losing the Romagna seems to have been the occasion of all its threaten ing demonstrations, and is earnest. Every possi ble engine of disturbance seems to have been put in motion, for the purpose of making a formidable opposition. Addresses to the Pope have Been pre pared and: Signed by hundreds of thousands of* men and women of all classes. These addresses have, been published apd widely circulated, with, the purpose of encouraging those who sympathize in the movement. Their servility is extreme and surprising, even for the Ultramontane clergy of France; in fact, to any one who cherishes personal self-respeot, the sentiments they' express are. re volting. We give a few sentences from, one of them: “Your rights do not come from man; you did not acquire them by violence or iniquity. , You are the most legitimate and kindest sovereign on tlie earth. What your people suffer ought not to be imputed to you, but to themselves, and those who seduce them. For ourselves, your Fre ich children, we believe that your authority cannot be defined, except by yourself; and we accord to you all the rights which you give yourself. Who more than -you will. love justice, respect the people’s rights, and cherish the poor ? Your independence is the salvation of human liberty. If the Pope was ho longer king'the cross would be torn from every crown, and nothing could save the world, which Would soon return to the worship of idols. O Father! 0 King! 0 most holy and immortal victim I On oiir knees, full of faith, full of love, we beseech your benediction, which strengthens our souls.” - • ■ In addition to this, many pastoral addresses and pamphlets, evidently from clerical pens, have been published and circulated through the whole em pire, calculated to inflame the passions of the fa- Datic, and encourage resistance. Sympathy is sought, too, and has been expressed in Ireland,' and even in the United States—with how much effrontery and bad logic, we have shown on a former occasion. Now, this seems clearly to indicate a disposition, on the part of the French Catholics, not to sur render the temporal power of the Holy Father without an effort to preserve it, if possible. Whe ther the Emperor will be so kind as to concede to John Hughes the “tea years’’ be demands for the friends of the Pope to make provision for him, before he leaves him to the tender mercies of his own people—the people to whom he has been such a kind and excellent father, according to his ear nest adulators among the French clergy—we pre tend not to determine. He seems, however, to accept, not unwillingly, the conditions of therfight. He has silenced the Ultramontane paper,' L’ Uni verse in Paris; and, though we have been told it will be transferred to Brussels and continued, it will be easy to keep it out of France in any quan tities- Single copies may be smuggled in in spite of the police, but-they will. necessarily be single ones, and hence effect but little, in comparison with what it might have done, but for his inter dict. He has, besides this, more than intimated to the Pope his intention of defending him only in the city of Home, or of withdrawing his troops entirely. It is even stated that* Gmta Wecbhia is being fortified, with the express view of there sta tioning the troops whieh'have so long occupied tbecity of Rome, and enabled the Pope to live in the Vatican; so that they may be ready to operate anywhere, as required in the progress of the dis pute. In the meantime, an outbreak has beeu threat ened iu the city of Rome itself; and it has become necessary-to patrol the streets at midnight, in oydey to prevent mischief—clearly indicating that Pope’s subjects differ, iu. opinion with -the; French prelates, on the subject of Ms government YOL IV.—NO. 30.—-Whole No. 195. and the paternal protection which he gives to the poor. _ Surely, there are enough of them, in all conscience; under his eye, to exeite his compassion and call out the kind feelings of his excellent heart. And their cries are importunate, likewise, enough to move him to action, if he be so kind and benevolent. In Naples, the tyranny is becoming every day more. grinding and intolerable, causing the op pressed to pray almost for a return of the days of the infamous Bomba.' How long they will he able to tolerate it, and not strike, even when the iron is forced into their very bones, no one can predict; but if the North and South unite in one vigorous effort for liberty and union, the poor old feeble Pope will be able, with all his.friends, to make but little resistance. He is trying, in the meantime, to stir them up by allocutions and encyclical letters to do something—what, he probably does not himself clearly perceive—only he means to wait, and if he cannot uphold, his temporal power, be buried under its ruins. It -is also said that Savoy is to be annexed to France; if so, then the word will go forth to the provinces of northern Italy, “Annex to Sardinia.” And if it is to be left to the people to say who shall rule them, Victor Emanuel will soon find his sway extending over the whole of the beautiful peninsula. Our Arch. John says, “There was a king of Rome who did not reign;” but he is not sure, nor are we, that there: will not soon be one who will do it, even to the Eternal City itself. Things, certainly, at, this moment, favor such an idea. ; ' There seems to be a determination, on the part of a certain class of thinkers'and writers, to paganize our language. They have thought it good for themselves to renounce, or stand aloof from, Christianity. But they dislike to be called infidels. We do not wonder at their dislike. The word has not a pleasant sound. It is a name which associates the wearer thereof with persons whose memory, has no very sweet savor with a large part of the community. But we cannot consent to the transnbstantiation of a word, so as to give us. an entirely new mean ing with the same vocalization. The word infidel is an old word in onr lan guage. It is found in the English Bible, and there expresses the sense in which it has ever since been current- —an unbeliever in the Chris tianreligion. “Be ye not unequally yoked to gether with unbelievers: for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hath light with darkness ? and what concord hath Christ with Belial? or what part hath he that believeth with an. infidel?” 2 Cor. vi. 14—16. The same word ( apistos ) is rendered “unbeliever” in the first, and “in fidel” in the last clause. It'would not’be diffi cult to. sho w .that this has been the generally accepted signification of the word. There are two ways in which the established use of the term has been struck at. The Latin infidelis means “unfaithful.” Some writers have undertaken to turn the English substantive into an adjective, with the Latin sense. When a man of some' notoriety as a professional phi lanthropist was called an infidel, his friends voci ferated, “Infidel to what? In what lawful re lation has he been unfaithful ?” Perhaps they did not know that they were talking nonsense, but it requires some charity to think so. v A usual policy is to treaMhe imputa tion of infidelity as implying atheism, and to answer it by proof that the person so described is a theist. But everybody knows Tom Paine as an infidel, and Voltaire as another, though neither of them was an atheist: Or, the appel lation is assumed to charge declared irreligion —hostility to religion—and is met with proofs of a reverential disposition; kind temper, and decorous speech; as if a man could not reject Christianity, and still- have praiseworthy traits of character.: Mr. Bayard Taylor recently eulogized Baron Humboldt’s religious'character. He admitted that,the great’man was not. a Christian in his faith and worship, but maintained that his na tural piety was pare and pdwerfnl enough to dispense with the help of the gospel. What Mr. Taylor’s religious opinions are, we do not know, nor; are. we concerned to inquire. Per haps he thinks the Christian religion necessary, or, at least, highly advantageous, to ordinary mortals. But he evidently thinks that some men are quite as well off without it as with it. He insists, .however, that he was “defending Humboldt from the charge of infidelity,” by “stating Ms belief that a deep religious feeling formed the basis of: his character.” But Mr. Taylor, in Ms travels about the world, and in his converse with literature, must have found Out long ago that a a kind of religions sentiment may exist without a Christian belief. Every human being has religions instincts. Shelley not only rejected, but reviled the gospll. But he has been called a “natural devotee.” Was Humboldt anything more? “He that is not with-me,” said Jesus, “is against me.” There is no exception; even for a Humboldt. If he did not believe in the truth and authority of the Ghristiah religion, he was an infidel. It is saidjsometimes that the term is one of reproach.* It may be so, but whose fault is that? The term merely states a fact. If the opinion of the comm unity concerning infidels as a class is not flattering to them, the opinion has been formed with no want of opportunity to estimate correctly the valne of their services to ■society. Those who think fit to cast in their lot with them, -must be content to bear the re proach, until they can wipe it out by demon strating, if they can, that the world is better off without than with the gospel.— Examiner. The Rev. Dr. Tyng is discussing topics per taining to Sunday-schools in familiar letters to the Independent. The doctor’s last letter gives the following, timely hints concerning family culture: “ Many families have I seen who were fixed in the sentiment, that the Sanday-scbool was not needful for their children, and that even greater benefits would be lost by sending them thither. The simple result has been, that these children, though in some eases belonging to Christian pa rents, and I believe conscientiously instructed at home, have grown up free from any influence of mine, or of the ministry, or of desire therefor, and, as a rule, voluntary strangers in maturity to the blessings of a day and a church which they had never been accustomed to love in their youth. I have mourned over this error in occasional de terminations with exceeding sorrow —longing to see every child and youth in the Church in actual, constant connection with blessings which I have been perfectly convinced could elsewhere never bo supplied. I would entreat Christian parents to feel and to consider rightly upon this subject; and while in their prayers and efforts at home and in secret, they seek for the highest spiritual welfare of their children, to perceive and acknowledge how blessed add valuable is that helpful agency which the good providence of God has prepared for their aid and success .in the Sunday-school.”* WHAT IS AN INFIDEL? FAMILY CULTURE. DAILY DUTIES. Sum up at night what thou hast done by day; And in the morning what tboii hast to do. Dress and undress thy soul. Watch the decay And growth of it. If with thy watch, that too Be down, then wind up both.. Since we shall be. Most surely judged, make'thy accounts agree. Herbert. Christian Intelligencer.