tan 
Written for Moore’s Rural Mew- Yorker. 
BY THE HIV.EE.* 
BY A- A. FISHER, 
Close by the “ River” I'm standing, 
Its waters are laving my feet, 
Yonder the “ Boatman 11 is coming, 
Right gladly his coming I'll greet 
Long have l waited *• bis coming,” 
To carry me over the Tide, 
For sore are my feet, and weary, 
Seeking “rest " on the other side. 
What if he is ‘‘ the Pale BoatmaD,” 
And jiis breath be " icy " and ' ■ cold,” 
And dark and grim be the shadow, 
That around my spirit he’ll fold? 
I know be comes at the bidding — 
He is only doing the will, 
Or One who now I her whiep'ring 
To the “ angry waters,” “ be still.” 
Fearless I’ll go with the Boatman, 
For safely he’ll carry me o’er. 
And soft to my ear comes stealing, 
Sweet music from the tar-off shore. 
* Accompanying this was a pile ate note l rora w hich 
we make the following extract, wnich w ill enable the 
reader the better to appreciate these lines:—" Allow a 
stranger and an invalid to thank you for ihepleasme 
your excellent paper has given her. Ii lias been 
yonr exceueui paper rut? given n** 
brought tn m - room every week, aim :ts coming has 
brishtened many a dark honr. 1 shall soon pa~s awav 
brightened many a dark hour, i *b:ut soon pa-s away 
into Eternity, and shall go leeling that I have been 
made better by the Truth and deep purity I have ever 
found in the RrKAL Although l can not aspire to any. 
thine earthly, for toy r&ce or • nnh is alinosr ended, yet 
I have wished I mUL' write something the, would un¬ 
worthy vour notice 1 have writ ten c he accompany lag 
and send it to you Do with it just as you ihmkit 
deserves.” 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
ELEVATION OF WOMEN. 
The elevation of woman is equally the eleva¬ 
tion of man. Their interests are one. If she 
be happy, he is blest; if she be wretched, he is 
undone. No system therefore is entitled to any 
regard which does not tend to promote her wel¬ 
fare; and the system that ignores or injures 
woman should be abhorred by all, and consign¬ 
ed to the dark ages. 
"Woman is, in some respects, the most impor¬ 
tant part of oar race. She is not only the 
teacher, but to a great extent the trainer of us 
all. The human mind is placed in her keeping 
at a time when, like the slender twig or sapling, 
it can be bent and inclined in any direction, and 
trained in any form. Ami nothing can be of 
more importance than that she who has to give 
the first, and perhaps the most lasting lessons to 
humanity, should by ail means herself be well 
taught. 
Dr, Dick says: “There is, perhaps, nothing 
of more importance to the human race, and 
which has a more direct bearing on the happi¬ 
ness of all ranks, than the cultivation of the 
mental faculties, and the acquisition of substan¬ 
tial knowledge; for on this depends the happi¬ 
ness of man, both as an individual and as a mem¬ 
ber of the great family to which he belongs. 
Even in those nations which have advanced 
farthest in the path of science, and the cultiva¬ 
tion of the mind, the details of education are 
not considered in the serious light they deserve. 
The establishment of schools for universal in¬ 
struction, while it counteracted iguorance, 
would tend to the prevention of crime.” 
Now in no country of Europe and in no state 
of our Republic, is woman allowed the same ed¬ 
ucational advantages as man. If she emanci¬ 
pate her mind from superstition, if she master 
the element* of science, and familiarize herself 
with the higher branches of literature, aud 
more particularly if she distinguish herself as a 
philosopher, ati artist, or orator, she must make 
powerful efforts, and she must surmount appall¬ 
ing obstacles, such a* man knows nothing of, and 
then secure toleration only by successes almost 
superhuman. 
Woman is unjustly treated in many other res¬ 
pects. What is an unpardonable offence in 
woman, is only a trifle or an amusement in man. 
That which banishes woman from society is not 
even censured in man. That which dooms a 
woman to despair, tends rather to improve the 
prospects of man. The seducer is courted, the 
seduced abandoned. The deceiver is flattered, 
his victim undone. 
Nor can woman be happy without the proper 
exercise of her unbounded affections. She must 
love and be beloved. She must marry one whom 
she can love, and from whom she can coulident- 
ly look for returns of love. The true normal 
woman loves but one truly, and seeks not to be 
loved by more than one, but she expects as a 
matter of course that one will love her with an 
undivided heart. 
Again, woman is insulted aud wronged by 
partial laws in relation to holding of property, 
and by unju.-:. compensation she receives for her 
services, etc., etc. But time f- a- to -ay all, or 
half that still presses. It cannot be so forever 1 
Truth will assert her power and rights, and vir¬ 
tue will rise to dominion; and man and woman 
after ages of darkness, of gloom and sorrow, 
shall be enlightened, happy and free. 
M. A. D. 
Branchport, N Y. 
Good Advice.—I f the body is tired, rest; 
if the brain is tired, sleep. If the bowels are 
loose, lie down in a warm bed and remain there, 
and eat nothing until you are well. If an action 
of the bowels does not occur at the usual hour, 
eat not an atom till they do act, at least lor thir¬ 
ty-six hours; meanwhile drink largely of cold 
water or hot teas, exercise in the open air to 
the extent of a gentle perspiration, and keep 
this up till things arc righted; this ouc sugges¬ 
tion, if practiced, would save myriads of lives 
every year, both in the city and country. The 
best medicines in the world are warmth, absti¬ 
nence, and repose,— Hall's Journal of Health. 
GOSSIPPY PARAGRAPHS. 
— Who knows from what cave the winds of 
fashion blow? Tire Empress of Austria has ex¬ 
erted herself to put down crinoline. She has 
ceased to wear it, and no lady is allowed to wear 
it iu her presence. Tbe curates of several pro¬ 
vincial churches, supported by their vestry, have 
levied a tax of twenty cents on every person 
habited in crinoline who enters their church. 
One curate has been so bold as to interdict his 
church to crinoline, and he ba> provided a dress¬ 
ing room where the offensive article may be 
taken off. 
— The Empress Josephine once pretended 
to be jealous of Napoleon, who wrote in res¬ 
ponse to one of her letters as follows:—“ I have 
just hud your letter. I don't well understand 
what you say about ladies being in correspon¬ 
dence with me. The oniy person I love is my 
little Josephine, so good, so sulky, and so ca¬ 
pricious, and who knows how to pick & quarrel 
with the same charm she puts into everything; 
for she is always amiable, except when she is 
jealous, aud then—she is a very devil. But to 
return to these ladies. If I did think of any 
one of them, I assure you I should wish them to 
be pretty rosebuds. Is any one of those you 
write about a rosebud?” 
— In a sermon published in London in 1736, 
occurs the following passage on the separation 
of the sexes in churches:—“And. indeed, it is 
a great pity our churches are not better con¬ 
trived for religious purposes. But men and 
women sit together promiscuously; wherein they 
have departed from the ancient simplicity which 
still remains in many of our country churches, 
where, the seats being single, the upper oues are 
filled by ehe men only, aud tbe lower by the 
other sex: so that the men see not the women 
at all, nor the women the face of a man, except 
the person who officiates, during the whole ser¬ 
vice. Wri re they all so, there would not per¬ 
haps be -o many present, but those who were 
would pi obably behave with more decency than 
now tin y do.” 
— W . find the following written concerning 
a fern e physician:—“Miss Sallie M. Mon¬ 
roe, mi New Berlin, Chenango (County, New 
York, a practicing physician of the hydropathic 
school, has permanently adopted the masculine 
attire—not merely bloomers—but the veritable 
dress of a gentlomon, from hat to boots. So, the 
ultima thtiit of i he dress reform has been reach¬ 
ed at last! Miss Monroe, who makes a fine 
looking cavalier, either on horseback or on foot, 
usually wears a blue coat aud bull' waistcoat, 
With plain flat gilt buttons, blue trousers, boot* 
aud bat, all good cut. She is a young lady of ir¬ 
reproachable character, skillful iu her profession, 
brave, energetic, ambitious, and eminently self- 
reliant, She wears the masculine in preference 
to the feminine dress, because she conceives the 
former to be better adapted to the active duties 
of her profession.” 
— Dr. Kent, a young lawyer of Vienna, and 
a bashful lover, lormed.the acquaintance of a 
lady of wealth, whom he visited for so long a 
period that the lady became impatient of his de¬ 
lay in proposing. She finally partly proposed 
marriage to him, when he, misunderstanding 
her, and having Lis thoughts upon his fiancee, 
remarked that the only obstacle to his marriage 
was his poverty. She, the next day, transferred 
all her property, £15,000, to him, and accompa¬ 
nied the gift with a brief note to the effect that 
now all obstacle* to his marriage were removed. 
The delighted lawyer immediately offered him¬ 
self lo hiijianctc aud left the lady who had given 
him her wealth to pine in single blessedness. 
She forthwith sued the happy bridegroom for 
restitution, but, a* no promise of marriage had 
been made, the case was, by two successive 
courts, decided against her. 
— In the windows of the New York shops 
placards are placed on which is written, “ If 
you do not see what you want ask for it.” A 
metropolitan paper thus explains these notices, 
which we give lor what it is worth, asserting 
that we don't believe u word of it:—“ If our in¬ 
formation be correct, it appears that the placards 
referred to, and which are to be seen iu the win¬ 
dows of dry goods stores, shirt stores, and other 
establishments where the softer sex ‘ most con¬ 
gregate,’ are simply intended to announce to the 
ladies they can get their ‘ bitters ’ within, with¬ 
out let or hindrance from the genua homo. That 
is the * milk Of the eocoanut.’ The ladies have 
at length managed to establish female bars, 
where they <;au enjoy their milk-punches, cock¬ 
tails, soda or Otard, all to themselves, and with¬ 
out exciting disagreeable comment*. It is too 
bad to • let the eat out of tbe bag’’ on the dear 
creatures, but as the explosion would come 
sooner or later we want to be ahead of every¬ 
thing else as usual.” 
— This is how a knight is said to have won 
his lady;—Two gentlemen of high birth, the one 
a Spaniard and the other a German, having ren¬ 
dered Maximilian II. many services, they each, 
for recompense, demanded his natural daughter 
Helena, remarriage, The Prince, who enter¬ 
tained equal respect for them both, could not 
give any preference, and after much delay, told 
them that from claims they both had to his at¬ 
tention and regard, he could not give his assent 
for either to marry his daughter, and they must 
decide it by their own prowess and address;but 
as he did not wish to risk the loss of either or 
both by suffering them to fight with offensive 
\i%ti 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
LOOKING TOWARD SUNSET. 
BY CLIO STaNT/BY. 
(Ion paints the sunset, and we catch the glow 
Or goldenne?? upon our laces, open 
Marvelling how some can ail within 
The door, draw curtain? close, and wrap their thoughts 
In twilight; wonder not that shadow? sit 
Forever on their faces, while they fail 
To read a single letter of the glorious 
Meaning writ on earth and sk.v. 
When Day 
With crimson blushes, seeks her cloudy tent, 
And, with her f ytug feet, scatters quick gleams 
Of purple fine aud roseate light upon 
Her pathway, then come forth into 
The open air. !el the light breath of Night, 
Blowing across the plain, and gath’ring sweets 
From many a hillside where Uie clover blooms, 
Cool yonr hot forehead, woo tin- tender air 
That flies to greet you from the woodland bowers 
Coming straight from the brink of waters cool, 
Dripping o'er rocks, half covered o’er with moss, 
That jnt, np io the light, their drops to toss 
Into the shady pool; from dingle? sweet 
Where lading leaves and Autumn flowers make 
The atmosphere nwr. sweet, and seem to shake 
Freeh odors lo our feet: lift your tired eyes, 
Tired with trie sight or lolly and display, 
And greet this purer sight of Heaven's mvu blue. 
Oh' never, when the air i? filled with song 
And sunshine, can one learn the full delight 
That makes the soul laugh out with rapture 
At this sunset hour! 
What golden visions 
Of departing day fall on your hearts! 
What tender thoughts of coming night, awake 
Yonr spirit, tune youT mind to thankfulness, 
And leave their impress on each leaf and flower! 
What merry soand is this that greets 
Our cars f 'Tis but the slender song I he cricket 
Sings, and yet what long, biigbt evenings it 
Foretells, when seated by the hearth, that place 
For happy loves to grow aud strengthen, you 
Forget the cold world with its busy cares, 
And listen only to the earnest prattle 
Children make, or answer give to that 
Companion dear wnoin Heaven blessed y ou with 
Long years ago Forc^lling this -bringing 
Perchance, soon e memory to light that through 
Long year? ha? slumbered; of thu happy time 
When you. who now arc grown toil-worn and grey 
In worldly service, stood, a careless child 
Before y our mother’s knee, and beard her words 
Of comfort and of cheer; and, with it all, 
There comes the scent of rose leaves faded 
And of lavender, that used to ooze 
From out the broad mouthed jars that stood upon 
The manta", 
What i very child it makes 
Of you again, and what sweet dreams of bygone 
Hopes and longings wakens in your breast! 
Unlocks those precious memTlcn of old loves 
And joys; anticipations fond that never 
Were made real; and so the giy, light heart 
Of youth-time and the burdened heart, ol man 
Beat side by side; the youthful step that bounded 
Forth each more as free as when the bird 
Lifts bis bright pinions heavenward, now 
Keeps silent pace with yours (hat falters; so 
You muse, and ah on to the light and beauty 
That still shines about you 
How the wind, 
Restless and moaning, seems to tell its story 
Of the day; in eager motion now. 
And then, dying away in fitful slumber 
As the shadow? lengthen on the grass. 
The sunset hoar la gone, like many another, 
And left us to oar dream of quiet rest; 
Rest, that if rightly welcomed, finds us still 
Looking toward me setting of Life's sun, 
When the bright hues of N ature rade before us, 
As we look forward to th' Eternal Day. 
Philadelphia, Pa., I&84- 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker 
FORGIVENESS, 
weapons, he had ordered a large bag to be 
brought, and he who was successful enough to 
put his rival into it should obtain bis daughter. 
This straDge combat between two gentlemen 
was iu the presence of the whole imperial 
court, and lasted half an hour. At length the 
Spaniard yielded to the German, Andre Eth- 
nakp, the Baron ol" Tethern, who, when he had 
got Lis adversary into the bag, took him on his 
back, and placed him at the Emperor’s feet, and 
on the following day married the beautiful 
Helena. 
A SWEARING CAR 
To love our enemies and forgive those who 
injure us, is one ol’ the hardest duties we are re¬ 
quired to perform. Yet, contrary as it is to our 
weak and fallen natures, it is a law of Christian¬ 
ity, a duty binding upon every Christian. The 
command is explicit, “ Love your enemies, bless 
them that curse you, do good to them that hate 
you, and pray for them which despite fully use 
you and persecute you.” yet how hard do we 
find it to forgive those who seek our injury. We 
may endure privation and suffering, even be¬ 
reavement, and face death itself with resigna¬ 
tion; but to feel kindly toward those who rejoice 
in our sorrows, and delight to add to our bur¬ 
dens, to do good to those whose word-arrows 
pierce our hearts and blight our enjoyments, yet 
who smile at the torture they cannot feel, re¬ 
quires an amount of grace too few possess. It 
is not easy to rejoice in the happiness of one 
who seeks to destroy our own; to be glad of the 
light that beams upon others’ paths, though 
they have darkened our way; to forgive and 
paay for those who continually wound and re¬ 
proach u.«:. 1 1 is a difficult duty, one from which 
we often shrink—one which grace alone can en¬ 
able us to perform, yet Christ expressly de¬ 
clares, “ If ye forgive not men their trespasses, 
neither wili your Father forgive your tres¬ 
passes.” 
Oh ! how sad for u» if we wholly lack this 
grace, if while we oiler the petition. “Forgive 
us our trespasses a? we forgive those who tres¬ 
pass against us,” we cherish enmity in our hearts 
toward any who have injured us. For want of 
a spirit of forgiveness do we not often compel 
our Heavenly Father to hide Ili- lace from us; 
for this cause do we not often walk in darkness? 
Continually do we need to oiler the prayer of 
the disciples, who, when the Saviour taught 
them to forgive “until seventy times seven,” 
immediately exclaimed, “ Lord increase our 
faith.” Lina Lee. 
Sherburne, N. Y., 18fil 
EXPERIENCE, A NECESSITY. 
fit v. following paragraph suggests the supply 
ol a desideratum which has been long felt to 
be of growing importance by all moral and gen¬ 
teel people whose misfortune it is (under present 
regulations) to travel much by railroad. As 
“birds of a feather” are wont to “flock to¬ 
gether,” we see no reason why swearers, drunk¬ 
ards and blackguards should be mixed up indis¬ 
criminately with decent people in railroad cars 
any more than elsewhere. We hope the man¬ 
agers of the railroads will not pass the sugges¬ 
tion by as a mere joke, but will make immediate 
arrangements to consign all of tbe above “ kith 
and kin” to their “ own place.” 
Communications published tn religious jour¬ 
nals, are generally of the “dry-as-a-stick” or¬ 
der, but. there was one in a late number of The 
Presbyterian, under the title of a “swearing 
car,” that forms a happy exception to the rule. 
In it the writer suggests that in our day the 
traveler has almost every comfort—that we have 
in our railway trains a comfortable bed for those 
who would sleep at night; and the cooling foun¬ 
tain for those who would slake their thirst: he 
who wishes can smoke, while another, to whom 
it is offensive, ean be free from the fumes of the 
weed: but that at this day, we are greatly in 
need of one thing more— videlicit, a cor assign¬ 
ed to swearers: that if such a rule were adopted, 
half the cars in a train might possibly be re¬ 
quired: that in fact it might be well to devote 
one or two whole trains a day to the purpose, as 
we have a milk train, and a market train on some 
roads, that drunkards might, with propriety, 
also be included in the swearing train?, as drunk¬ 
ards genei'aliy swear; that although the writer 
is not a Catholic, he has become a convert to 
the belief in a purgatory on a recent trip from 
New York to Baltimore, from the incessant pro¬ 
fanity to which the car was subjected, and that, 
too, in great part, after having escaped death 
almost miraculously in a collision on the road; 
that such a car should at once be put on all the 
trains, with tbe specific notice posted, “No 
swearing in this car,” “ Swearing positively 
prohibited,” or something to that effect, and 
that the rule lie strictly enforced even to the ex¬ 
pulsion from the train, if need be. of those who 
violate it. In view of the approaching political 
conventions, it would be well to provide several 
of these cars to convey the friends of disappoint¬ 
ed candidates to their respective homes. 
Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker. 
A WARNING. 
BY KITTY CRANSTON. 
Liberty, to day, is struggling 
With oppression’s fearful power, 
And the fate of coining ages 
Waits upon this awful hour. 
Yet those live who dare to’trifle 
With the trust that Gon has given; 
Dare forget that they must answer 
For their deeds, to earth and heaven; 
Those who dare to peril country. 
For some selfish, paltry aim, 
Dare desert the cause of freedom, 
For some dream of wealth or fame. 
Is there not for.them a lesson 
In the annals of the past? 
Know they not, that such have ever 
Met ft fearful fate at last? - 
That a curse has been upon them 
And theu' labor brought but shame? 
Better far to be forgotten 
Than to leave so black a name 
Let each heart take home the warning, 
And each hand with speed obey 
The stern voice of Duty, ringing 
Upon ev’ry breeze to-day. 
Duty to our Gon and country, 
Duty lo all future time, 
Calls, to-day, for earnest workers, 
And for words and deeds sublime. 
Then shake off each idle fancy 
And go forth in freedom's might, 
Striving not fur proud position, 
But to aid the cause of right. 
Then, our nation’s starry banner, 
Wheresoever it may be, 
Shall proclaim a land united, 
Aud a tuna forever free! 
TRUE LOVE TO CHRIST. 
Nearly all the accomplishments of the ten 
years of life between twenty and thirty, maybe 
summed up in one word, experience. At tbe 
commencement of that period, we are in the 
condition of a young sailor just shipped for his 
first voyage. Life expands before us; it seems 
limitless ;ik wr leave the shore; odorous breezes 
fill our white sails, and we bear away for tropic 
isles ol' palms and spices. On our charts there 
are no indications of hidden rocks; there arc no 
hurricane regions; we see no magazines of wind 
and lightning and thunder, ready to overwhelm 
us in terrible explosion. We play with the 
waves, wo laugh in the sunlight, and think not 
of waiting dangers about our pathway. But 
the clouds hide the sun: they roll fearfully up 
from the horizon, and canopy the dark waters. 
"We forget our pleasures in the terror of the 
present. 
As we enter upon the twenties, we have hosts 
of friends who would spare no effort to benefit 
us. So anxious are they, that we have only to 
indicate the direction in which they may be of 
use, and they will straightway rest not until our 
desire is accomplished. All this exists in our 
imaginations. And when we are undeceived— 
and it takes several years to effect this—we find 
that wo must first give evidence of our own ca¬ 
pacity before barred doors are fl ung open for us, 
and we are besought to enter upon our inheri¬ 
tance of labor. Yes, even the privilege of labor 
is denied us. until we have demonstrated that 
the world needs just the work that we, better 
than any one else, can accomplish. 
We earn money. For what do wc spend it? 
For experience. We will have experience of 
our own, modified by our own nature, in spite of 
the entreaties of our elders that we will profit 
by their experience. No, no. grandmother, 
grandfather, we can no more take the results of 
your experience than the young shoot you have 
to-day planted can appropriate the blossom and 
fruit which beloug to the older tree. We will 
accept gratefully, and heed your admonitions; 
we will endeavor to be what God intended, no¬ 
ble men, noble women; but we shall act foolish¬ 
ly, ignorantly, simply because wc are foolish 
and ignorant, and in this way we shall become 
wiser. Wc shall be ridiculed and censured; 
criticism will lash us unmercifully; but every 
smart of the wounds will make us wiser. We 
expect to pay our own bills for flogging. We 
saw lately a copy of a curious bill against one of 
the slave states for whipping negroes. Our 
state is not so kind to us. We pay for our own 
punishment, and theu learn little enough.— 
Horne Monthly. 
TREASURES IN HEAVEN. 
A man's imagination seldom enters into the 
sphere of the affections, hut a woman’s is there 
and always busy. It has a thousand beautify¬ 
ing processes to accomplish, and so far, perhaps, 
its office is salutary. But it has also a thousand 
painful possibilities to suggest, and so far its 
work Is purely evil. It torments the heart, in 
which it is born, but this is not the worst; with¬ 
out severe control it wiil torment the objects of 
that heart’s affections. 
He who sees another’s faults, talks about 
them, but covers his own with a potsherd. 
Nature, foreseeing that her children would 
be tampering with minerals, hid them in tbe 
earth, and covered them with plants aud herbs 
as fitter for their use. 
Tin-: occasions for sublime virtues are i' ale i 
to most men they never occur at all. Christian 
principles will languish or die, if they are not 
habitually exercised iu those quiet little duties 
which are always at home. 
We read of a philosopher who, passing 
through a mart filled with articles of taste and 
luxury, made himself quite happy with this 
simple yet sage reflection:—“How many things 
there arc here that I do not want! " Now this 
is just the reflection with which the earnest 
believer passes happily through the world. It 
is richly furnished with what is called good 
things. Ithas spots ot honor and power to tempt 
the restless aspirings of ambition of every grade. 
It has gold aud gems, houses and lands, lor the 
convetous and ostentatious. It has innumerable 
bowers of taste and luxury, where self-indul¬ 
gence may revel. But the Christian, whose 
piety is deep-toned, and whose spiritual per¬ 
ceptions are clear, looks over the world and ex¬ 
claims, “ How much there is here that I do not 
want! I have what is far better. My treasure 
is in heaven.”— Hr. Tyng. 
The Reformers.— The principle that man 
is directly accountable to God, and to Him only, 
for his personal religious belief, lies at the foun¬ 
dation of all the acts of the Reformers. They 
felt that in spiritual things C’HIUST Is entitled 
to paramount obedience. They sacrificed repu¬ 
tation, comfort, property, and even life itself, in 
support of their convictions. They denied the 
authority of the Government to impose on them 
a creed at variance with their conscientious in¬ 
terpretation of Scripture. But they never saw 
the correlative truth, that whatever Is not with¬ 
in the jurisdiction of Government with any res¬ 
ponsibility. If there is no duty on the one 
hand, there ean be no obligation ou the other. 
—llw. H. li. Fattison. 
It is very easy to think that we love Christ, 
and to- love Christ when it is not Christ the 
Savior, the God-man, Christ the holy one; but 
when it is merely Christ the lovely one whom 
we love—love poetically, and not practically. 
Every impassioned nature of necessity must be 
attracted toward the picture of such a life of 
gentleness and purity and benevolence; every 
philosophic nature must be attracted toward 
the utterances of such a teacher as he was; 
every pathetic nature mu?t be attracted toward 
the story of such sufferings as his; every child- 
nature must be fascinated by the vivid descrip¬ 
tion of such a heroic life as be lived; and yet 
this poetic, philosophic, instinctive admiration 
and love, which may shed a mellow- and attract¬ 
ive glow over the whole soul and life, may so 
miss of what is evangelical and assential to sal¬ 
vation in Christ, as to exist without one trace of 
saving effect upon the soul—one symptom of 
real piety. The last infidel v. ho has written a 
book (T refer to that singular aud fascinating 
Life of Jesus which has just been issued by 3L 
Renan, ol the French Institute) ha? placed on its 
last page one of the most eloquent and lovhm 
tributes that was ever written by human pen to 
the character of Jesus; and again and again, in 
the book you feel that the man loves Jesus— 
loves the Jesus of his conception with a real 
love—and yet the whole object and result of the 
volume is to degrade our Lord: to take the I 
crown of divinity off his bend, and the seam¬ 
less robe of mortal perfection off his back, and 
gyve him to us, a great and noble, but yet an 
erring, deceived and short-sighted man! So 
that a man may really love Christ with a kind 
of love—as one loves the character of John 
Howard or Florence Nightingale—and still be 
an infidel—not even almost Christian.— Eev. H. 
M. Dexter. 
I* 
_fN 
