Vottrg. For the Presbyterian Benner The Room of Sorrow. Step softly; for the mother's heart is fuller grief; Her little one is sick—aye, 'very sick—his large eyes look Sad, as though he was weary of this dark world, And loug'd to be at rest. Dear babe! thy journey Hailiteen brief and toilsome. But thou art going Where storm and blight no more can come. Where thy young life shall bloom in nevitr-faaing Loveliness. , Yes, loud mother, thy bud of promise Shall expand when it is transplanted•to that Better soil, into life and everlasting joy. 0, then, arise, shake off thy sadness ; give back thy flower To the good and gentle Gardener, who will Ever watch and safely keep it ; and 0 may Re, The great, the mighty one, who once became The lowly Babe of Bethlehem, be thy support And consolation. How still the baby lies! Speak low, You may awake it. No ; " he . sleeps the sleep Whieli-knows no waking." What sweet repose 'rests upon The features. This pretty Onihet is all that is left us. The jewel it con tained is gone. Gone where ? u To shine forever and forever In, the Saviour's crown. iSlook gMitts-. SCIENCE IN THEOLOGY. SERMONS Preached in St. Mary's,Oxford, fiefore the University. By Adam Farrar, F.G.S., .F.R.A..S. Pp. 260. Philadelphia : Smith, English 4. Co New -Y ork': Sheldon 4-- co. Boston : Gould t Lincoln. Pittsburgh : William S. Rentoul. 1060. The object of the author is to bring some ergo 'discoveries and methods of physical and moral sciences to bear upon theoretic questions of theology. Consistently with this design, he has.gi; , ett nine sermons on the folleviing sub jects, viz.: Drogressive and Gradual Discovery of the Divine Attributes, Through Scripture and Science; Divine' Providence in General LawS ; Divine' Benevolence in the' Economy of Pain ; Jewish Interpretation of Prophecy ; The Doc trine of the Holy Trinity ; The Atonement; Law. in the Life Spiritual ; The Gifts of the Holy Ghost; and Providence in Political Revo lutions. These disceursee are very able, will abundantly repay perusal, and will, at. the same time, give valuable hints as to the way in which all knowledge may be made subservient 'to the pulpit. Messrs. Smith, English & Company, have brought this volume out in their usual excellent style. ' HISTORY OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH TO THE REFORMATION. From the German of Professor Kurtz. With Emendations , and Ad . ditions. By the Rev. Alfred Eldersheim, Ph. .D., author of "History of the Jewish Na tion." Pp. 526. Price, $1.50. Edinburgh : T.t Clark. Philadelphia : Smith, English f t company. Pittsburgh: William S. Rentoul. 1860. Professor Kurts is already well-known to American theological readers, from his admirable " History of the Old Covenant," a translation of which has been issued by the eminent Edinburgh house, to ihich we are indebted fer the present volume. In this work on the history of the New Testament Church, the plan of, the author is to note the fulfillment of so many Old Testament promises f to trace theological -opining to their sonice, and to follow them along their course; to study -the internal -life , ofrthe ,Church; and to make his readers fainiliar with the outward events that effected the form, progress, and life of the Church. The view taken is comprehensive, the materials are arranged with great care, the style is com pact, and the whole work a complete success. We are pleased.to learn that thie is to be fol lowed by another volume that will continue this hiatory down to our own days. ILLUSTRATIONS OF SCRIPTURE ; SUGGES TED BY ..11.-• T9IIR:THEOUGH THS HOLY LAND. Horatio B. Hackett, AD., Professor of Biblical Literature in Newton Theological In stitute. New and Revised Edition, Pp. 364. Boston :.: Gould 4. Lincoln. New-York: Sheldon df co. Pittsburgh : Robert S. Davis, and Wm. S. Rentoul. 1860. The first edition of this, work was cordially welcomed as a' voluablehelp toward the under standing of sacred Scriptime. In the present edition,, ,great care ;has been taken in the re vision, and conanuently, additional value has been imparted. It is a book full of valuable in-' struotion - for every family where the Bible is read, and for every student of the Word of God. ItITTLEDGE. Pp. 504: New York : Derby 4e Jetekaon. Pittsburgh: Robert S. Davie. 1860. The characters of this story are develOped With remarkable skill, and the narratives and descriptions are of a superior order to what is generally met with in works of this class,. at the present day. Such freshness and vigor cannot fail to secure permanent popularity. EL FIIREIDIS. By the Author of the " Limy ligliter," and "Mabel Vaughan." Pp. 379. Price $l.OO. Boston: Ticknor .Fielde. New York :* Shddon 4. Co. Pittsburgh: Robert S. Davis. 1860. The previous success of. this author Is certain • to give p opularity to anything She may write. Of the "Lamplighter " alone, no less than one hundred thousand copies were sold. On the ?men t volume great pains have been bestowed, and the story, it is believed, will be found in no respect inferior to its predecessors. The scenery, imagery, and characters, are mainly oriental. MARY BUNYAN. THE DREA XC8. 9 3 Brawn 14upwrna. A Tale of Religious Persecution. Pp: 488. By" Sallie Rochester Ford,. Author of "Grace Truman." New York : Sheldon 4- ao. 'Boston: Gould 4- .Lincoln. Pittsburgh : Robert S. Davis. 1880. • Everything connected with the history •of the immortal Bunyan, is. full , of interest to vast mul titudes. Ho had a blind daughter, around whom his affections 'fondly clustered.; and she wds worthy the'love of such a father. This daughter is the heroine of this volume, that details so ,graphically the character of Bunyan, the perse cutions to which he was , subjected, the good he effected, and the spirit of . ,the times in which he :ST. PAUL'S TO ST. 'SOPHIA; OR, SKETCII IR6B nr Eimer& By Richard CY. ArCormick, Author of'•" The Camp ' Before Sevastopol," " The ItalianliYar of 1869," &c. Pp.. 364. New York: Sheldon 4. Co. Boston : Gould 4. /Lincoln. .Pittsburgh : Robert S. Davis. 1860. l'This is a series of. *etchings of remarkable 1 - places encountered' between the leaden dome of St. Paul's, London, and the golden minarets, of St. Sophia, Constantinople. They are distin ..guished by familiarity of style, and, much minuteness of detail; so that they are at once , entertaining and instructive. But few books of .travel, descriptive of the route pursued by our Author, will so well repay perusal as this volume, -which must be a favorite with those who would become norsinted with the subjects of which it itreat:s, but: who are denied the privilege of a per sonal Tieitr 'FORTY YEARS' FAMILIAR LETTERS OF JAMES W.ALEXANDER, D. D. Constitu ting, with the Notes, a Memoir of his Life. Edited by the Surviving Correspondent, .Tohn Hall, D.D. In two volumes. Pp. Price $1.60 per volume. New York: Charles Scribner. Pittsburgh : Robert S. Davie and Wen. S. .Reiatoui. 1860. • We are not certain that a biography of Dr. J. W.: Alexander, prepared in the usual manner, will not be called for. But for our own part, we consider hie Memoir, 1113 contained in these ~two volumes, derived from letters written without the least thought of publication, during a period of forty ygars,„auperior to any bipgraphy of'their ECM author that can be written by the hand of man. Here we see him as the stripling of fifteen, as the student in College, the tutor, the, theologi cal student, the pastor of a church in the moun tains of Virginia, pastor of a church in Trenton, Professor in the College of New Jersey, pastor in New York, Professor in the Theological Seminary, and again pastor in New York. We see him as the devoted friend, the loving husband and father, the man of letters, the theologian, the faithful pastor, and the humble, praying, striving Chritian. Such a work is a precious gift to the Church, that will interest and instruct every intelligent reader and every pious heart. DICKENS' SHORT STORIES. Containing thir ty-one Stories never before Published in this Country. By Charles Dickens. Pp. 298. 12mo. Philadelphia: r B. Peterson 4- Pros. Pittsburgh: W. A. Gildenfenney. These stories had never previously been pub lished in this country. They are in Dickens' style of ease and naturalness. They are attrac tive. When you begin one, you wish to finish it; and, before you My down the book, you de sire to know what the, next is about ; and thus you are led onward. or ;'L Young ladies ant House-work. A, gentleman, remarkable for his strodg good sense, married a very accomplished and fashionable young lady, attracted more by her beauty and accomplishments than by. anything else. In this it must be own ed that his strong: , good sense did not seem very,apparent. His wife howevet, proved to be a very excellent companion, and was deeply attached to him, 'though she still loved company, and spent more time abroad than be exactly approved But as his in come was good, and his house furnished with a good supply of domestics,, he was not aware of any .abridgments of comfort on this account, and he therefore made no ob jection to it,._ One day, ,eome few months after his marriage; our friend, on coming home to dinner, saw no appearance of his usual meal, but found his wife , in great trouble instead. " What's the matter ?" he asked. " Nancy went off at ten oclock this morning," replied his wife, " and, the cham bermaid knows no more about cooking a dinner than the man in the moon.. "Couldn't she have done it under your di rection ?" inquired her husband, very cool ly. "Under my direction ? I should like to see a dinner cooked under my direction." "Why so?" asked the husband, in surprise; "you certainly do not mean that you cannot cook a dinner." "I certainly do, then," replied his wife ; how should I know any thing about cooking ?" The husband was silent,, but his . look of astonishment per plexed and worried his 'wife. " You look very much surprised," she said, after a moment or two had elapsed. " And so I am," he answered; "as much surprised as I should be at finding the captain of one of my ships unacquainted with navigation. Don't know how to cook, and the mis tress of a family ! Jane, if there is a cooking school anywhere in the city, go to it, and complete your education, for it is deficient in a very important particular." The Red Binding. When I was a little girl, I attended Sabbath School in which it was the custom to reward good lessons by a little blue ticket bearing a verse of Scripture. Five blue tickets entitled the scholar to a red one, and a certain number of red ones might be exchanged for a book. Once when the time for'grving out the rewards had arrived, my teacher brought to our class a pile of new volumes, bidding us to choose'for our selves. My fancy, as I remember, was at tracted by a gaily bound book, with gilt edges, and profusely illustrated. I resolved to take that book, and looked most disdain= fully on a plainer one, habited in sober black, which was pressed upon my notice. Reaching my home, I sat down in a favorite Corner, to make the acquaintance of my prize. Little friend, imagine my chagrin when I discovered that my treasure was suited only to the most infantile 'com prehension, and had no charms for me ! had been cheated by a fanciful binding, and for days and weeks the sight .of the little book was a mortifying souvenir of my weak ness. Older children than I have been imposed upon by bright outsides. -Many :a rOsy , ap ple is rotten at the core. Many a bright, cherry bides a. little worm. The tiger is a very beautiful animal, with a glossy fur, most elegantly striped and mottled; but he is cruel and blood-thirsty, and often springs from the deep jungles upon an innocent victim. The most poisonous plants have deep-green leaves and waxen berries. §o some of the worst men and women whO have ever lived, have been famed for their beauty and grace. Cleopatra, who in an cient times was famed for her attractive appearance, perpetrated the most shocking crimes, and finally killed herself. Little kittjee. There was once a little Hindu girl named Majee y she went to a missionary's school, but she would not eat with her school fel lows because she belonged to a higher caste than they did. As all: livedat the school, her mother brought her food every day, and Majee sat under a tree to eat it. At the end of two years she told her mother she wished , to turn from idols and serve the liv ing Godi her mother was much troubledat hearing this, and begged her child not to bring disgrace on the family by becoming a Christian. But. Majee was anxious to save her soul. She cared no longer for her caste, for •she knew that all she had-been taught about it was deceit and folly. Therefore, one day she sat down and ate with her school-fellows. When her mother heard of Majee'S conduct, she ran to 'the school in a rage, and seizing her little daughter by the hair of her head, began to beat her severely: Then she hastened to the priests to ask them whether the child had lost her caste forever ; the priest re plied, "Has the child got her neiv'teetli ?" "No," said the mother. "Then we can cleanse.her, and when her new teeth come she will be as pure as ever; but yon must pay a great deal of money for the cleansing." Were they, not cunning priests ? and cove tous priests, too ? The money was paid, and Majee was brought home against her will; dreadful sufferings awaited the poor child; the clealt r aing: was a cruel business; the priest burnt, the child's tongue ;.-this Was one of their ornelties. When little Majee was suffered to go back to the school, she was so ill she could not rise from her bed. The poor deceived mother came to see her; "I am going to 'Jesus," Said the young Martyr. The mother began to weep—POh, Majee, we will not let you die." " But am glad," the little suffer rePlied, "because I shall go to Jesus; if you r mother, would. love him, and give up your idols, we should meet again in heaven:" An hour 'after wards Majee went to heaven, byt whether her mother gave up her idols is not known. —Children's Magazine. 4 ,1 Child's . Prayer. A gentleman who had a large property, was led into evil courses. He drank 'hard and gambled much. Soon his property began to waste away; and at last it was all gone. One night he came to his unfurnished home. He entered his empty hall, sick at heart; and passino• s on to his wife's chut ter, there saw her sitting sobbing and broken-hearted, and his little child by her. side. Sullen. and wretched, he seated him self, without saying a word PRESBYTERIAN BANNER.---SATURD AY, JUNE 16, 1860. Presently the mother said, " Come my child, it is time for you to go to bed.' And the little one, as was her usual way, came up to her mother's side, and knelt down on her knees to say her evening prayers. When she had finished, she looked up to her weeping mother, and said, " Dear rna, may I say one more prayer ?" " Oh, yes my sweet pet," said the mother. So she put her tiny hands once more to gether, and prayed, " 0 God, spare; oh do spare my dear father ?" That little prayer, so simple and earnest, was wafted to heaven, and heard there. It went also to the father's heart. He melted, and wept. He rushed to his wife and child, fell on his knees, and confessed his bad life, and resolved in God's strength to become,a better man. God helped him;, he left; off his bad ways; and once more he had.a home, wife and child, all happy. Children see what a little child's prayer can do ! Do you pray , continually and ear nestly for your parents, and your brothers and sisters 7 The Mother Moulds the Mau. That' it is the moTher who moulds the man, is a sentiment .beautifully illustrated by the following recorded observation of a 'shrewd writer. "When I lived' among the Choctaw In dians, I held a 'consultation ;with' 'one of their 'chiefs, respecting the siteeesSive sta ges of their, progress in the arts of civilized life; and, among many other things, he informed me that at their start - they made a great mistake—they only sent boys to school. These boys came home intelligent men but they married uneducated and un civilized wives; and the uniform result was, the children were all like - their moth ers. The father soon lost all his interest both in wife and children. 'And _pew,' said he if we would, educate but one class of.our children, we should choose the girls,; for when they become mothers they educate their sops:"'This is the point,' and it is true. No nation can become fully enlight ened when mothers are not in aped devree qualified to discharge the duties of the home-work - of education. -• Morning Thoughts for a Little Child. Night is over; light is streaming; Through my window pane !tis come, And the sun's bright rays are beaming On my own dear, happy home. God has watched me'through the night; ~"prod it is who sends us light. Night is over; some poor, children Have been homeless, sleepless, ill,; God has let me rest so sweetly In my chamber, warm and still. Lord, I thank thee for thy love; - Raise my morning thoughts above sight is over; ilea e venly Father, I would bend my knees and pray Help.my weakneSs, guide me safely, Watch and keep me all the day. Take away my love of sin) Let thy Spirit rule within. Lady Morgan and Young Ladies In a tete-a-tete conversation on the sub ject of some - young ladies who, had been suddenly bereft of fortune, Lady Morgan said with an emphatic wave of her dear old green fan : t 4 They do everything that is fashionable imperfectly; their singing, and drawing, and dancing amount to noth ing. They were educated to marry, and had there been. time they might have gone off with—and hereafter from—husbands. They cannot earn their own . salt; they do not even know how to dress themselves: I desire to give every girl, no matter what her rank, a trade—a profession, if the -word pleaSe you better"; cultivate what is neces sary in the position she is born to; culti vate all things in moderation, butane thing to perfection, no matter, what it is, for which she has a talent-41rawing,—music, embroidery, house keeping even, give her a staff'to lay hola of, let her feel TAis will carry her through life without dependence.' .1 was independent at fourteen, and never went in debt." Dr. Mason to His Son. •To his little son, afterwards Rev. Dr. Erskine Mason, when he was studying in Schenectady, the celebrated Dr. John E. Mason thus wrote: " There is a little hint my dear boy, in the close of your letter to your mother, which very sensibly touched my heart, And awakened all, my solicitude for you. You speak of a revival of religion among the children, and of your endeavoringyourself to seek the Lord. Oji, should it be so in deed, that my beloved boy is in earnest about his immortal soul? Should he have gone from home to find Jesus and 'life eter nal How blessed would this be! How should my thankful heart pour forth praise to God for my mercies.! my youngest son, in the days of his early youth, safe for eternity; what happiness like this ? Yes, seek the Lord, my child, and he will be found of you.' You have much to be for given, although you are_so young. Spread it out before God; eonfess it without ex tenuation, and beg of God the free pardon of it for the sake of the Lord Jesus Christ, whose blood cleanseth from all sin. Tao care that you be not satisfied with convic tion of sin. Conviction is not conversion. You must'be born again.'" - Teach the Women to Save. There's the secret! A saving woman at the- head of a family is the yery best savings-bank yet established—one that re ceives deposits daily and hourly, with no costly machinery to manage it. The idea of saving .is a pleasant:, one.; = and.. if ," the women ' would imbibe` it at''' once; they would cultivate and' adhere to -it, and thus, when they were not aware, of, would*be laying the foundation of a competent secu rity in a stormy time, and shelter in a rainy day. Tbe woman ;;who ,Sees, to her own house, has a large field to save in. The best way to make her' comprehend' it, is, for her to keep an account of current expenses. Probably not one wife in ten has an idea how much, are the expenditures of herself and family. Where from one thousand to two thousand dollars are expended annual , , ly, there is a,chance to save something, if the attempt is only made. Let the house wife, take the idea,-act upon, it, and strive over it,, and she will save many dollars— perhaps hundred's, where before she thought it impossible. This is duty—not a prompting of avarice—a moral- obligation 'that rests upon "the woman," as well as the man ; but it is a duty, we are sorry to say, that is cultivated very little, even among those who preach the most, and re gard themselves as examples in most mat ters. " Teach the women to save," is a good enough maxim to be inserted in the next edition of "Poor Richard's Alma nac." "Ton must not play with that Little girl, my: dear," said an injudicious parent. "But, ma, I like her; she is a good little girl, and I am sure she dresses as prettily as ever I do, and she has lots of toys." " I cannot help that, my dear," respond ed the toolish anti-American, "her father is a shoemaker." "But I don't play with her father; I play with her. She ain't a shoemaker!" If Charity, doesn't keel) her eyes °lieu as well as her hands, she is.quite as likely , tg d 6 harm as good.. =Si Pride lieproTed. gliscellantotts. R cipes ELECTION OAKS.-- our lbs. flour, two lbs. of butter and two of sugar. Stir the butter and sugar together thoroughly; then niix half of it with the flour, together with a tablespoonful of good home-made yeast, and one quart of warm milk. Beat it and pat, it with both hands, until the ingredients are thoroughly mixed. Then let it stand in a warm place until it is light, say five or six hours. Then add the remainder of the butter and sugar, two lbs. of raisins, and a small quantity of pulverized mac. This may stand over night, and be put in pans for baking early in the morning. It should rise in the , pans, and then bake an Aiourdwa slow,, , oveu. -This•cake requires no eggs, and , is used -by economical housekeepers in Winter, whew eggs are dear. The ; loaves nicely frosted, will be preserved moist for a long time.—Genesee -Farmer. WATERLPROOF CLOTH.—To every quart of raw linseed oil, add half a pint of copal varnish and two ounces otsugar of lead. Mix well together and apply with a brush. Thislnixture Applied to thin sheeting, an swers a good purpose in place of glass, for hot beds, letting in plenty of light, ex 'eluding cold and wet equally as well, and protecting the. young plants from the hot breach of the.old shiner which proVes often times-fatal to them.--Genessee Farmer. POTATOES AND PSASTER,When seed potatoes are Out, it is well to roll them in plaster. We knovr,farmers who think this one of the best:mearis of , preventing the rot. If Smeared with tar-Water, and then dried with. plaler 7 —as seed corn'is usually treated—So much the better. To KEEP OFF INSECTS FROM VINES. It observed that , an English-jourual puts `forth the statement that the ebromon elder bush scattered,amOng cucumber and melon vines, will keep off the bugs which infest them. We , should,like to. know if any of otir readers ever tried it. To .CI4IAN ;PAxbrr.—Smear a piece of flannel in common whiting, mixed to the, consistency of -common paste, in warm wa ter.' Rub the surface to be cleaned quite briskly, - and wash 'off with pure cold water. Grease-spots. will in this way, .be- almost instantly removed, as well as other filth, and the paint will retain its brilliancy and beauty unimpaired. ' CLEA? INGr KETTLES.-$ bit of pearl .ash; as • large as a walnut, dissolved in hot water, will remove grease from iron cooking vessels, and also take out the taste left by oniens, or other hiedy-flavored food. RECIPE FOR -NRURALGIC AFFECTIONS. .::---Equal , parts of sweet oil, spirits of harts horn, turpentine, and camphor. It can be made an anodyne by adding a little landa . num. To, ENTIRELY CLEAR. OUT THE RED-ANT. —Mash your shelves down clean, and while danip, rub fine salt on them, quite thick, ind let it remain on ,for a time, and they, will disappear. To PREVENT MOTHS 114 CARPETS.— Rub or strew around the edge of carpets, and on them, salt and pepper, and moths will not eat them. PitEir.ENT BED 13/MS.—after, clean ing ,the dust off, wash.with strong salt water anything they get on or into. (?) Havana Hotels. In no part of the world does one get so, little comfort for so much,money as on the. Island of Cuba: To wit : an early cup of black, coffee, oftenest very had ; bread not. to. be had without an extra sputtering of • Spanish, and:darkening of the cennte nariee—..7to wit, a :breakfast between ; -nine and ten, invariably consisting of fish, rice, beefsteak, fried plantains, salt cod with to matoes, stewed tripe and onions, indifferent claret;, and.an after, cup of Coffee or green tea—to twit a dinner •at three or, , four,.of which the inventory varieth mot—to wit;' a - plate of soup, roast beef, tough turkeys and ,chickens, tolerable ham, nameless stews, eartalplantains, salad, sweet:potatoes; and i - Or dessert, a spoonful each of West India preserve--invariably the kind you do not like—oranges, bananas and another .cup of Coffee—to wit, tea of the sort already described-to wit, attendance. and non-at tendance of;negro and half-bred waiters, who mostly speak no English, and neither know nor care what you want 77 to wit, a room Whose windows, reaching from .floor to ceiling, inclose 11Q glass, and are.defend ed from the:public by iron rails, and from the outer air, at desire, by clumsy wooden shutters, which are' closed only when ,it rains—to_ wit, ‘ a bed with musqnito net,- ting—to wit, a towel and a pint of water, for all ablution. This is the ,sum of your comforts as' to qiiantity; -but as to quality, experience alone can enlighten you. And for this yon,have to pay $3 or $3,50 per, diem, and which is the simplest hotel charge in Havana, and which should, in 'any civilized part of the world, give you a ereditable apartment, clean linen, and all reasonable diet A. Trip to Cuba. Pretty ,1111A:lee Deacon . Janson is a great temperance man, and sets a good, eNunple of total ab stinence,,as far, as he is seen. Not long since he employed a carpenter „ make some alterations in t his parlor, , and tn• repairing the corner .near the fireplace, it was found neceissiry-to -removelhe wainscoting, when lo !, _a.discovery was inade that astonished everybody... A. decanter, .atumbler, and a pitcher •were cozily-reposing there as if they had . stood therefrom ; the ,beginning. The Deacon ,Was suminoitecl, and as he beheld the blushing bottleti Wall) I 4e4arei:Aiat. is curktuts.. mire enough.... It ~ must .have . beim,old Ba l sa left them when . h e went out of this . lowa thirty years WO!! r ••• ' • " Perhaps 'returned the carpen ter, " but Deasiiri; the ice in the piteter must have fristmighty hard to stay time."—lndiana American,. qBessationalism. Oil 1 'The age demands a new word to describe cap cpf,lts:fleadiug, .characteristies. That word cannot be invented, by philological ingenuity. must : be accepted as it flows out.or the life of American society. The Prick it.hasiaken is. none other than sensa tioncilfpn. ii.the'liolite term employed to denote , the art shove. 'al.l other arts, of humbugging ` 11 '; • g the ignorant, the credulons i and,' the excitable. The material' fixim which it shapes its fabrics, is falsehood ; itirdiatiell bra verbose species 'of lying; and the object of its exhibition is the end and being:of aeelfish mammonism—to wit, to make' money out` dupes, supes, and innocents of every kind. This art is lim ited to no one particular, sphere. It is imaginative, literary, financial, church-jab braerish, jobberish, and ministerial-ish. So we have sensation novels, papers, Wall street bulls, churches, and preachers, all belonging to the same fraternity, and all tra ding in the 'gullibility of the people— that is of ignorant, credulous, half-poised people, who think they must believe every thing they 'see in print, and patronize everything that craftiness is able to puff. Sober, experienced, and sensible folks do indeed know that where there is much wind, and blowing and puffing, and noisy self-laudation, there cannot be, much solid worth or enduring substance. But unhap pily, the majority are neither sober nor sensible; and fools be ing plenty, the art.of sensationalism thrives. 'ti I . t . r !AßTikt.-49 3 4vfiFrbt. 4.,t4e.:14 windiness becomes exhausted, and the col lapse of emptiness is inevitable. The art of sensationalisp can never replace the trusty facts of solid experiment, and sup porting truth. And so churches which puff themselves most, and ministers who suffer their sublimequalities to be ventila ted much in swollen paragraphs of startling ,fustian, and papers that exhibit their windy propensities 'in prolonged boastings, are sure to be shunned and despised by those who have ability to reflect, or character to preserve, or public good to, effect and con serve,.—Christian Intelligencer. Three Poetsc in a Puzzle 4Pt led the horse to the stable; when a fresh perplexity arose. removed the har ness 'without ;difficulty', but; atter many 'strenuous attempts, I could not remove the collar. In'despair, I called. for assistance; when aid soon drei- near. Mr. Words worth brought his ingenuity into exercise, but after several unsuccessful efforts, he relinquished the achievement :As a thing al togetherimpracticable. Mr. Coleridge now tried bis hand, but showed, no more groom ing skill .than his predecessors; for, after twisting the poor horse's neck almost to strangulation, and to the great dan:Ter.of his ,eyes, he gave, up the useless task, ' pro nouncing that the horse's head must have grown (gout or drbpsy,) since the collar was put on, for, he, said it was a downright impossibility-for such 'a huge os froatis to pass through so narrow a. collar I , Just at this momenta servant girl came near, and understanding the cause of our consterna tion, " La, master," said she, "