family ®iwli. INTER STELLAS. The bells of heavenly harmonies Bing ever in the self-same keys; Bat we, confused by care and fret, Have heard no strains of greeting yet. The angels^sjbg, as when of old That story of good will was told ; But .pierce the boundless blue, For us vrhosesoags are faint and fejv. The starry eyes of spheres sublime Peer through the distances of time; But unto us, so weak of sight. They glitter in an unknown night. We only know and only feel The sympathies our souls reveal; But angels sing within us, when We bear good will and peace to men. And days shall come, not distant long, When sighing shall he changed to song, When the great heaven our rest shall be, And sight shall conquer mystery. . '■ Samoul W. DuVfimd. TRUTH THE BRIGHTEST GEM. The clock struck five, the joyful hour for sister Emma’s return from school. “There she is,” cried little George, who was weary with long watching at the win dow. “Do let me run to the brook, dear mother, and meet her.” The permission was given, and away he ran to throw his arms around his kind sister Emma. ■■ in :;;. ;• “ But what is the matter, sister ?” inquired the little boy, as he held up his lips for the kiss. “ Oh,*not much,” was the answer—for just then Emma’s heart was too full to per mit her to say “ much.” They soon reached the parlor, hut Emma’s sorrowful loots did not escape her mother’s notice* She did not, however, ask any (questions, for Emma always felt that her mother was, the best friend in the world, and was accustomed to go to her with all her perplexities. At tea, Emma was silent, and little Georgci was much puzzled to find his sister so indif ferent to his stories about his kitten, ar>d Eosa, the little dog; nor did she smile ai usual, when she heard that he had been “ an industrious boy at his lessons.” No, Emm* could not smile : her heart was heavy; and yet, perhaps, some of my readers will won der, at it when they hear how very small a thing could so much disturb the happy girL Emma had that day sinned against hercon science. She was usually in the habit o. listening, to , the amice of this friend in her bosom, and obeying it,’and so her days pas sed happily. There was in her face the sunshine of the soul, so that one felt happy in looking af her. The time appeared very long before went to l>ed; at last all was still, and Emma found her mother 1 alone in the parlor, ready, as she always, was, to hear her troubles, and pour into her spirit the balm of consolation. “ Dear mother, I have sinned against my conseience to-day, and I have been so mise rable.” Poor Emma, could say no more. “Tell me Emma,” said her mother calmly, “ what has been the difficulty.” “ Why, mother, it was only a sum I had to do in division. , When «I was .trying to prove it, I could not possibly make it com pare with the answer, and so I put down the right figures, and carried them to mv teacher. She looked at it a moment, and then said, ‘ Emma, did you add up this sum ?’ ‘Yes,’ I replied], “How then does it appear that every figure is wrong?’ I told her'the trqth then, but she looked at me with a good deal of compassion, and told me she ‘ had supposed I was a girl of integrity,' but I had now tried to deceive her, and had dis pleased God!’. Oh, mother, I was never so unhappy in ; my life; what shall Ido ? Ido not know how I could do such a thing ; I have grieved the Sayiour, and Miss Carlton thinks I am a doceitful girl.” “I am grieved for you, my child; for* in this instance you have stepped from God’s path of truth—that pleasant path, which had, to you, Emma, been a path of peace. But Ido not think you a deceitful girl. A ( shddenand ; pqs®ful presented, ‘ and in a moment, you sweryed into the dark andforbid<j^n^y f whose, brier! hhte i ‘ amhaay 'wounded you.” *■ Oh, mother-,*how 1 true it sis, that the way of transgressors is hard! I have been unable to study or play, or do anything but think of my wicked heart.” “Emma, there is a balm for your wounded spirit. If you feel that you have sinned against God, and arereally penitent—which always implies a W as sistance, to do so no more, to be a child of truth, to delight in it just as he does—then he atfd Jqye yM Ss ou know the way to the Saviour, Emma.” Such bitterness of soul Emma never ex- perienced again. She was forgiven by her Saviour, by her teacher, and her affectionate mother. Truth had long sparkled like a beajilafulidiamond on her fair brow; and al though its lustre was obscure for a moment, • shield and breastplate by which she was en abled to vrSrddff'the attack’s of temptation. The sorrowful day was, never forgotten. The way of sin waB so dark and fearful, leading down to the chambers of death, that Emma Messed ,God h ( er ,b|ick . so quickly "into the sweet truth.— Mother's Magazine. THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN THURSDAY, MAY 21, 1868. WHY CHRIST CAME AS A BABE. “There is one thing,” said Wynnie, after a pause, “that I have often thought about —why it was necessary for Jesus to come as a babe; be could not do anything for so long.” “ First, I would answer, Wynnie, that if you would tell me why it is necessary for all of us to come as babes, it would be less necessary for me to tell yon why he came so ; whatever was human must be his. But I must say next, Are you sure that he could not do anything for so long ? Does a baby do nothing? Ask mamma there. Is it for nothing that the mother lifts up such heart fuls of thanks to God for the baby tin her knee ?. Is it nothing that the baby opens such fountains of love in almost all the hearts around it ? Ah 1 yon do not think how much every baby has to do with the saving of the world—the saving of it from selfishness, and folly and greed. “And for Jesus,,was he not going ,to es tablish the reign of lovti in the earth ? How could he do better than begin from baby hood ? He had to lay hold of the heart of the world. How could he do better than begin with his mother’s —the best one in it ?' Through his mother’s love first, he grew into the world. It was first by the door of all holy relations of the family that he en tered the human world, laying hold of mother, fatfigr, all his friends: by the door for he took of his father's ; then, wheAJbo was thirty years of agfe/ by the door qF teaching; by kind deeds,wand snf ferirfgs, and through all bvobedienceuntothe death. i^Rmmusiifo&hliikftitlfe’bf thirty years wherein he got ready for the chief work to folio W.Tou must not thin'kthat while he was thus preparing for his public ministrations, -he-was not,all the time saving the world even by that which he was in the midst of it,, ever laying hold of it more and more. These were things not so easy to tell. And you must'remember that our records are .very scanty. It is a small bio graphy we have of a man who became—to say Manofithe world— the Son of Man. No doubt it Is enough, or God would' have told us more j but surely we are hot to suppose that there was noth ing significant, nothing of'saving power in that which we are hot told. Charlie, wouldn’t you haye liked to see the little baby Jesus ?” “ Tea, that I would. I would have given him, my white rabbit with pink eyeh.”' “That is what the great painter Titian must have thought Charlie; for he has painted Him playing with such a pretty one as yours,” I would have carried him about all day,” said Dora, “ As little Henry Parsons does his baby brother.” “Hid he have any brother or sister to caffy Turn About, papa ?” asked Harry. i “Noj my boy 7 *»r he was the . eldest; But,'yon may be, pretty sure he carried about his brothers .and sisters that came after him.” “ Wouldn’t he take 'care of, them just!” said Charlie. . “ I wish I had been one of them,” said Constance. “ You are one of them, my Connie. Now he is so great and so strong that he can carry father and'-'mother and a JI of us in his bosbm.” '' ■ Then we sung a child’s hymn in praise of the God of little children, and then the lit* tie ones’went fo. bed. —The Seaboard Parish in Die SvfflLaij'Mdgazine. [Theidea here presented by Mr.'Macdonald •is tfotas new as it is true. • Irenaeus—who studied ;Jat tho feet of Polycarp, the pupil of the,,Apostle Christ: “He came to redeem all by Himself; all who through. Him are regenerated unto God; infants,'llttlC children, boys, young men and old/ Hence fid 5 passed' through every age* and to the infants,, he became an infapt, sanctifying therinfants; among the litMe children, ho became a little child sanctify ing those who belong to this ago, and at the same time becoming an example of filial goodness and obedience to them': among, wmJie became,a,youth, being *- mu de* anexample 't o yotffti, and sane tifying- themiintb the Lord.”] 5 ' KEY. ALBERT BARITES'. [The meagre reports of public rumor, so unsatisfy ing to those deeply interested in this great and ..good man, have elicted the following facts from his own pen. y-Trwrr « !-• r. B. H.] aid of a machine,—the same which Mr. Prescott used, in writing his histories. . , .* Even this I do- at some peril of 'blindness! My general health is perfect, dsperfeet as it could be, at my tithe of life—now in my seventieth year, v I* am able to do as much work as ever, without fatigue. My only difficulty is with my eyes, and there the difficulty iB a serious and alarming one. I am threatened with blindness, and am commanded net’ td’rehdf or r %rite, or preach, or think'. I was very w.011,a1l last r wjntor, did all my ordinary w.orkj and work of my Lectures [Evidences of Christianity) and was using my eyes very moderately and quite comfortably, until August, when sud denly and unexpectedly, alarming symp toms, consisting qf flashes of light appeared; and I thoughtfit necessary, to consult my physicians. I did so, and was commanded to stop at once, on penalty of total blind ness. ' I therefore 'resigned my pastoral office. [Then follow facta of which-the public are already informed. At a much later date, April 21, 1868, he again writes:] pj‘fl a,m nqt, asiypfo qfflicted pwi|h gtotal blindness, ana.it qfili hOpeji|bji| saved from that calamity,,though there are alarming indications, increasing rather than diminishing, that if I live much longer, I shall be; and that I may end my course, as not a few do —as a blind old man. Perhaps it will make the exceeding splendor of heaven, if I am permitted to behold it, more glorious to my view. My son, a* I told you, reads to me, but that leaves many hours heavy and unoccu pied. I have, however, much to interest me in my garden, (Eden’s Bank—his sum mer home.) How that I have not anything to employ myself about, I am endeavoring to put my grounds in a better and more tasteful order than they have been hereto fore. At least a very innocent employment and a means of grace. Why not ? A man ought to be the, better for seeing the works of God all abound him, and by seeing those works developed under the operation of his own hands. Those who have seen ‘Eden’s Bank ’ can Scarcely conceive it possible. No man can make a flower bloom,,but one may be an instrument of causing one to bloom, where otherwise there would be .none, and thus bring out, so to speak, a new manifestation of the-power, the skill and the goodness of God. j 4 , , ' Wnen I received youiv letter I had just returned from a * residence’ in the Domin ion of Canada, where I had gone to secure a copyright of my Notes on,the Psalms, in England. I had ample opportunity to un in regard to temperature, for they all said, that this haa been the coldest winter that had ever been known in Canada. The first volume of this work has been published •in London, and will bo '.issued with all convenient despatch in this country. This tiorffpletes jny wprk xm tjie bible, —a work which has tie’eupred ‘my leisure hours for forty years—which has been to me, an : unfailing source of. eqjoyinent, .and which hasmet with a dOgrCe ; of success' wEichi nejrerj9xpec.t,e,d l or hoped, for, „ f The. merare sul%KsiaveEe%h%ooaifesß.tod gregationalist and Recorder. SATURDAY EVENING. Havqyou ever noticed the bußtle that usually., prevails on Saturday evening? There are clean clothes to be looked out, and aired garments to be mended, others to be put away, and the house must be cleaned and putin order. Calling af a persons house on Saturday afternoon - she said, “Ah ma’am, you see I am busy, cleaning to-day, so as to have all tidy for Sunday.” “ Yes,”l replied, “ if all took the same pains to examine their hearts as they do to clean their houses, how much more would they be. fitted to enjoy the coming rest.” To this she assented with a right, ma’am,” Now I wonder, dear, children, if when you put your playthin'gs all away, you try to put evil thoughts away also ? I do not mean to say that, you may indulge: in. Binful thoughts all the week, and then put them away on. Saturday night as you do your toys, intending to bring them forth on Mon day morningagain—no, no! I want yon to examine your, hearts, and,, if there are .evil or sinful thoughts in them, then pray God to reiriove them; arid prepare yoirto receive SabbatL instructions. A- 8 the house is care fully swept that if may bo clean for Sunday, so ao you try, with God’s help, to sweep away |very unkind or ill feeling from ytiur hearts. If you, have quarrelled with any of your young companions, ask them to forgive you;’and pray for a blessing tin the coming Sabbath. A little boy said to me one,Sunday morning; “ I have a.fclean coat, clean collar, all my things are clean.” I then said, “ Have you a clean heart ?” at which .question h t e ' jvas silpßt,;he'didi not know what to answer. Now you cannot give yourselves clean hearts, but you can pray God to wash them ih the blood of Jesus, then they’will' be’clean; Clean coats and clean frocks look very well, but a clean heart yon want more than any of-these. Next Saturday evening, if you are' alive, do not forget to Took at your heart, little boy or girl who “may happen, to read this; and, by constantly; doi,ng so with prayer,, you will find it, will keep you from much sin, besides helping you to enjoy and profit by the Sabb'ath. . ( QUEER FISH. The Tribune’s Alaska correspondent gives an alccount of a fish that is put to queer “I must, not, omit . ( the existence ancLpo cuiiarities of another fish—one not men tioned in"the' ‘ books’—-which is found in groat numbers in the coast .'rivers, from the Hass to. the Stickeen. It appears annually about the first week in-May, and Mr. Ansley, the pilot of the JohtfLl Stephens, says that on sqtne days he has known it difficult to row'«:|fcrtfc across ithe moiith of the Hass Rivet pn account of the dense mass of .these fish in the water.,,, Sometimes an; adverse tide or heavy wind lodges tons qf them up on the shore. ‘ The Indians' know of their arrival by the flight of the birds northward. They seldom continue ovpr fifteen d’ays, and during this time tho native's from Fort all the adjacent- regions haste to ‘the feast of fat things.’ This fish is six to eight inches; long,, in form resembles ,the smelt, has a shining and almost appearance, and of all the-finny tribes lathe most fat: Its fat has'not the! oily/rancid tastq of other fish, but has the sweet taste of fresh lard: The Indians ' store great quantities of it, and if well cared for it re mains sweet for months. When they arc dried, the Indians often turn to a novel and practical account—burn them in the place of candles. They, give a clear, brilliant light,.and are nqt iiable to be blown out by the wind Mr. Manson, the Superintendent at Fort Simpson, says that the tail should be lightad j-jpstqad- of the head-, and; that last fiboutffifteen-minutes. In a; dark night the inen who took.natives for reckon a u}ijl§-qf every five fish burned.” j THE EIGHT WAY TO BEGIN. A little girl once said, “Oh, mother, how very hard it is to do right I I don’t believe I shall ever be able.” “Have you really tried, my dear?” “Oh, yes; I try every day. When I awake, before I get up, I say to myself, * I will be good all the day; I will be gentle and kind; I will obey my parents and teach ers ; 1 will not quarrel; 1 will always tell the truth.’ But theD, mother, I don't know how it is, Ido so often forget. Then, when evening comes, I have to say, ‘ There now 1 what is the use of trying ? I have been in a passion; I have been disobedient;’ and once or twice, mother, you know, I have said what was not true." The dear child seemed very much ashamed while saying this, so her mother looked kindly at her, an,d only said, “ My dear, I do not think you have be gun right.” The little girl looked up won deringly; and her parent went on—“ The first thing is to have a new heart; and have you asked for this?” “Ho, mother, lam afraid not.” “ Then, my; child, do. so at once. Good fruit you know, can only come from a good tree. If your heart is wrong your conduct will be wrong. You cannot make it right yourself, with all your good resolutions; but ask God, for Christ’s sake, to help you. He will give you His Holy Spirit, and you will not find it any longer impossible to do right.” lam glad to say that the child took her mother’s advice. That very day 1 she asked God, earnestly, to change her heart,< and help her to do right. She frayed, she watched, she strove hard against her sins, and? whs able,. by God’s grace, to lead the life of a lovely.young Christian, . • HOW PAPER IB MADE IF ,CHINA. Most of the paper used in China is made from the bark of various trees arid plants, arid from the bamboo. The manufacture of bamboo paper is carried on extensively in the southern part of the country. In se lecting stock from the bamboo plantations on the mountains, preference is given to the stems which are about to put out branches and leaves. Early in the month of June the caries are' cut into pieces from five to seven feet long, add "placed in a pit which is supplied with water. After’ soaking for several weeks* the canes are beaten with mallets, in order to remove the thick barb and green skin. The remaining filaments, resembling a fine sort of hemp, are treated with lime and water raised to a certain temperature. /After remaining in this bath for aboutra week; the filaments are removed, gashed with cold water, passed through-a ley made of wood ashes, and thep, .placed,in a boiler. This process is repeated until the material begins to grow putrid, when it is transfetredtoamortar, apd pounded into pujp by'meanl of Svatori-power; aiter which the mass is treated to bleaching powder. The pulp thus prepared is made by-hand into sheets of various thicknesses by means of, a silk tissue, within a light, frame, upon which the workman places the .required 'quantify of pulp. When the Water has inn off from the corners of tho frame, he turns the sheetiover on to a,large table,! when it is pressed. Etich sheet is afterward raised and dried separately in a kiln made for that purpose. ' Writing paper is made front the 1 finest part of the bairiboo material. Another kind is inade by mixing rice-straw with the bamboo fiber. A very strong paper used fbr window-blinds and other articles, which in'this couritry are generally constructed of woven substances, is made by , mixing 60 per cent, of the< bark obtained/fromia tree Called tchou with 40. per,cent, of bamboo material 1 . Another) variety of strong paper is obtained -from the hark of itfae.mulberry tree, and-is used in the'breeding and culture of silkworms. The same--: material,' made from thinner pulp, is employed in the manu facture of umbrellas* fans, arid* firescreens. Hark paper which is to be painted -is- first passed through a solution of alum-water, to 'destroy the fine filaments which are com monly found on the-upper side of the sheet as it lies,in the silk tissue frame—the lower side in; .contact with the tissue being much more smooth. For"maDy uses,, when only one color, is required, the 'material is added to the pulp A NOBLE DEED. .The following incident was related to the Coadjutor Bishop of Newfoundland, by one of the survivors of the terrible storm on the -Labrador in October last: ' ’’ ’ “ A poor ]boy, whose name/no one knows, but we may hope, that itis.in the Book of Life, iound three' little children. who, like himself, had been washed ashore from one of the many wrecks, wandering along that dreary coast in the driving sleet. They were crying bitterly, having; been parted from their parents, and not knowing whe tner they were flrownea or saved. The poor lad took thenf -tfl &t 6be|tered spd.t, plucked moss for'-tLemyand madetbespi-a rude but soft bed, and then taking off his own coat to cover them, Bat by them alls the night long, soothing their terror until they fell asleep. In the morning, leaving them still .sleeping, .‘hdlwpnt* in.sparclloff heparents, ‘and to ;Ms; ■mei-them 1 looking' for ’iKej? liad,giy|hrnp‘ffir dead, fle direbted them where tofi’nd tbein, and then went on himself to try. to find some place of shelter and refreshment. But when the parents were returning with their recovered little ones, they found their brave preserver lying quite dead upon the snow, nob far from where they pßrtod'irdmPMm. The long exposure in his exhausted state was too much for his little strength, and h aying saved his iS ,lijjtle ch tp-g§ to them, as they to him—-ke lay-downto die." ' „:.; t All the world has admired the offering of Abraham; what may not come to pass since God has offered His own Son ?— Luther. It is a great mercy of God not to hear men if they offer nnjust prayers.— Quesnel. ftal fMttaratf. DEIYING THE COW. BT MARIAN" DOUGLAS. The grass is green on Billy’s grave, The snow is on my brow, But I remember still the night When we two d&ve the cow I The buttercups and tangled weeds, The goldfinch pecking thistle seeds, The small, green snake amid the brake, The white flowers on the bough, And Billy, with his keen, gray eyes,— I seem to see them now 1 O, Billy was my first of friends; Pur hearts were warm and light; The darkest of November rains L Had,-shared With him, seemed bright; And far too brief lor boyish play Had the summer? s longest day. But powerless fell dove’s magic spell,— Its charm was lost that night; It needed but one'word, and we ' Were Both in for a fight! One word I ’twasßilly spoke that word; But, sore at heart, I know , It was another hand than his That dealt the earliest, blow. He ; touched my forehead's longest curl, And said, ‘‘ Ha ! John ! my jpretty girl ?” A jest or not, my blood was hot, My cheek was all aglow; " Take that 1 Take that 1 Say, could a girl, A girl, have struck you so ?” But Billy was as stout as I; , The. scar upon my brow - The memory of his prowess keeps Before me even now I His furious blows fell thick and fast;' But just as I had thought,’at last, ’ That yield I must, a skilful thrust I gave, I know not how, And, a triumphant conqueror, I went on for my cow 1 We never were firm friends again. Before the Spring-time air Again the graveyard flowers made sweet, Poor Billy rested there 1 And I since then have wandered wide, And seen the world on every side, By land and sea, and learned—ah mb!— That warm, true hearts are rare; And he who is best loved on earth Has not one friend to spare 1 The grass is green on Billy's grave* . My brow is white with snow; I never can win back again The love I üßed to know t The past is past; but, though for me Its joys are sweet in memory, ’Tis only pain to call again .The feuds, of long ago, And t worse to feel that in a fight I’dealt the earliest blow! OIJBE FOE THE CATTLE PLAGUE. . Chloride of copper is no,w extensively used in Germany against the cattle plague. The practice is to dissolve 8 grammes ize'd chloride of copper in 2 ( kilqgrammes of aleohpl, ;and, with this solution tp -wet a pad ;of cotton, which is then laid, on a plate and burned in the centre of a stable, the heads of the animals being.turned toward the plate so. as to, breathe the fumes. This operation is performed- morning, and eveningone pad is burned for every three head of cattle. The ■Solution is also administeredinternally, with the addition,of 15 grammes of chloroform for the, above named quantity! A teaspoon ful of this liquid is mixed with each animal’s drink three times a day. HOW TO KEEP UP tOUK HAY OEOP. A farmer who had , been in the habit of selling his hay for many years in succes sion, being asked* how he-kept up, his hay crop without manuring or cultivating his land, replied, “I never the after swath to be cut,” If this, rule was gene rally followed, there would be less said about running out of grass fields, or short crops of hay. Some farmers feed off every green /thing, and compel their cattle to pull up and gnaw off the roots of the grass. Cutting rowen is certain deqth to hay crops. A farmer hadbetter buy hay at forty dollars per. ton than ruin his hay field by close grazing. The general treatment of grass land in this respect is wrong and. expensive, and should be abandoned as a matter of profit and economy; —Wisconsin Farmer. TO CLEAR A HOUSE OF VERMIN. 1,. “Burleigh," of the .Boston Journal, says: “ I tell yon, ladies, a secret that may be worth your knowing-—a new remedy to clean a house of roaches, and vermin has be,en found..,So complete is the remedy that men offer to ,yid the premises of all these pestilential nuisances by contract. The ar ticle.is sold under the name of French green and other^ high sounding,names, and at quite * high price.. But {,he article, in plain Eng liBh„iB cpmmon.gre,eri paint in powder. ~ Six cents’ worth used 1 about any house will ‘Clear the k;itcben,’ and all its surro.undings. These pests invest many houses in this city, an,d wo believe the ladies will thank us ,fpr suggesting so cheap an eradi cqtor.”; The principal of; a school in thn interior of Missouri i having resigned, the following application was made, for the-position: ; “Macon Citt, Jim. 14th, 1868. “ Sir, hearing that the Proffecer of your high School was-about to resign. I there fore Solicit your patronage, and think I can fill the place. If -yon-wish a teacher please give me call l ean teach all branches You require. Please address soon— Kansas City, Mo." The. answer to tLis application is not re corded. .... , V,’,,'\ .—Our Young Folks.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers