DAWN OF IMMORTALITY.-Dr. Nelson thus beautifully explains the cause of the ineffable radiance that sometimes lights up the face of the dying Christian after the power of speech has been lost: "The passage of the Christian from the mortal to the immortal state, is like descending into a ditch, crossing the bottom, and climbing up on the other side; and just as he rises to the top the vail of eternity is gradually drawn aside, when he has his first view of the immortal state. It is then that the effulgent glories of the heavenly world so entrance his vision that he is wakened up to the new life before the old one is laid aside; and the sight so resplendent, impresses on the physical features some of the glories seen on Moses's face after he had been with Divinity; repeated again on the Mount of Transfiguration, when, after communion with the Holy One, the Master's face "did shine as the sun." Even his raiment became shining, exceeding white as snow, so as no fuller on earth can white them.' In speaking of this great mystery,' a nameless writer says, 'No one who passes the charmed boundary comes back to tell. The imagination visits the realms of shadows, sent out from some window in the soul, but wings its way back, with only an olive leaf in its beak as a token of emerging life beyond the closely-bending horizon. The great sun comes and goes in the heavens, yet breathes no secret of the ethereal wilderness; the crescent moon cleaves her nightly passage across the upper deep, but tosses overboard no signals. The sentinel stars challenge each other as they make their nightly rounds, but we catch no syllable of the countersign which gives passage into the heavenly camp. Between this and the other life is a great gulf fixed, across which neither eye nor foot can trace. The gentle friend whose eye we closed in the last sleep, long years ago, died with rapture in her wonder-stricken eyes, a smile of ineffable joy on her lips, and hands folded over a triumphant heart; but she spoke no word, and intimated nothing of the vision which inthralled her.

"Now and then, once in a generation it may be, one is permitted to return to life after having a glimpse of the other side. But their lips seem sealed, as if the subject was too holy for human converse. Whatever of sight was seen or sound heard it was only described as a glory unutterable."

THE DUTY OF CHEERFULNESS-How false that idea of religion is which makes it consist in an austere manner and a sad countenance, we know from our Savior's words; and though the Master was the " of sorrow as bearing our sins, it becomes the disciple to rejoice, because through that sorrow he is made partaker of eternal joy.

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man

"Rejoice always, and again I say rejoice"-not with noisy mirth, but in holy, peaceful serenity of mind, that brings praise to the lip, and light to the eye, and elasticity to the movements of the frame. True relig ion possesses the elements of gladness, the Gospel is

good news," "light is sown for the righteous and gladness for the upright in heart." The good and holy may have their seasons of sorrow in a world where sin and suffering still exist, and where trial is a part of the discipline of life, but though "weeping may endure for a night, joy cometh in the morning." We are not to go robed in black, with bowed heads, singing penitential psalms, because sin has reigned unto death in this world, but to remember that "where sin abounded, grace did much more abound," that the curse of the law is removed, and that death will shortly be swallowed up in victory.

There is a happy medium between moping melancholy and fanatical joy, and this is what the religion of Jesus demands. It is a solemn but not a sad thing to live, and true Christianity elevates and purifies the springs of joy by removing all that is low and trifling, and furnishing the highest motives to rational and healthful pleasure; it transforms the sorrows which work death in the unholy, into means of sanctifica tion, so that afflictions are counted light in view of the "eternal weight of glory" which they work out, and the peaceable fruits of righteousness which they produce in the heart and the life.

Let the disciples of Jesus consider it both their privilege and their duty to maintain a spirit of cheerfulness, and to manifest the fruit of the Spirit, which is love, joy, peace. Thus they will honor their Master, recommend religion, brighten their own lives and the lives of others, and diffuse elements of joy and gladness wherever they go.

FORGIVENESS OF INJURIES. "Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do." Luke xxiii, 34.

Many a death struggle has been made to save a friend. A dying Savior gathers up his expiring breath to plead for his foes! At the climax of his own woe, and of human ingratitude-man-forsaken and God-deserted his faltering voice mingles with the shout of his murderers, "Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do!" Had the faithless Peter been there, could he have wondered at the reply to a former question, "Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? till seven times?" Jesus said unto him, "I say not unto thee, Until seven times: but, Until seventy times seven," etc. Matt. xviii, 21.

Superiority to insult and ignominy, with some, proceeds from a callous and indifferent temperament-a cold, phlegmatic, stoical insensibility, alike to kindness or unkindness. It was not so with Jesus. The tender sensibilities of his holy nature rendered him keenly sensitive to ingratitude and injury, whether this was manifested in the malice of undisguised enmity, or the treachery of trusted friendship. Perhaps to a noble nature the latter of these is the more deeply wounding. Many are inclined to forgive an open and unmasked antagonist who are not so willing to forget or forgive heartless faithlessness, or unrequited love. But see,

too, in this respect, the conduct of the blessed Redeemer! Mark how he deals with his own disciples who had basely forsaken him and fled, and that, too, in the hour he most needed their sympathy! No sooner does he rise from the dead than he hastens to disarm their fears and to assure them of an unaltered and unalterable affection. "Go tell my brethren," is the first message he sends; "Peace be unto you," is the salutation at the first meeting; "Children!" is the word with which he first greets them on the shores of Tiberias. Even Joseph-the Old Testament type and pattern of generous forgiveness-when he makes himself known to his brethren, recalls the bitter thought, Whom ye sold into Egypt." The true Joseph, when be reveals himself to his disciples, buries in oblivion the memory of by-gone faithlessness. He meets them with a benediction. He leaves them at his ascension with the same "He lifted up his hands and blessed them!"

Reader, follow in all this the spirit of your Lord and Master. In rising from the study of his holy example, seek to feel that with you there should be no such name, no such word, as enemy! Harbor no resentful thought, indulge in no bitter recrimination. Surrender yourself to no sullen fretfulness. Let "the law of kindness" be in your heart. Put the best construction on the failings of others. Make no injurious comments on their frailties; no uncharitable insinuations. "Consider thyself, lest thou also be tempted." When disposed at any time to cherish an unforgiving spirit toward a brother, think, if thy God had retained his anger forever, where wouldst thou have been? If He, the infinite One, who might have spurned thee forever from his presence, hath had patience with thee,

and forgiven thee all, wilt thou, on account of some petty grievance which thy calmer moments would pronounce unworthy of a thought, indulge in the look of cold estrangement, the unrelenting word, or unforgiv ing deed? "If any man have a quarrel against any, even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye."-Mind of

Jesus.

THE EARLY HOME OF JESUS-Four miles south of the strong Greek city of Sephoris, hidden away among gentle hills, then covered from the base to the crown with vineyards and fig-trees, lay a natural nest or

basin of rich red and white earth, star-like in shape, but a mile in width, and wondrously fertile. Along the scarred and chalky slope of the highest of these hills spread a small and lovely village, which, in a land where every stone seemed to have a story, is remarkable as having had no public history and no distinguishable native name. No great road led up to this sunny nook. No traffic came into it, no legions marched through it. Trade, war, adventure, pleasure, pomp, passed through it, flowing from west to east, from east to west, along the Roman road. But the

meadows were aglow with wheat and barley.

Near

the low ground ran a belt of gardens; fenced with stones, in which myriads of green figs, red pomegranates, and golden citrons ripened in the Summer sun. High up the slopes, which were lined and planted like the Rhine at Bingen, hung vintages of purple grapes. In the plain, among the corn and beneath the mulberry trees and figs, shone daisies, poppies, tulips, lil

ies, and anemones, endless in their profusion, brilliant in their dyes.

Low down on the hill-side sprang a well of water, babbling, plentiful, and sweet; and above this fountain of life, in a long street straggling from the fountain to the synagogue, rose the homesteads of many shepherds, craftsmen, and vine-dressers. It was a lovely and humble place, of which no ruler, no historian of Israel had ever yet taken notice. No Rachel had been met and kissed into love at this well; no Ruth had gathered up the sheaves of barley in yon fields; no tower had been built for observation on this hight; no camp had been pitched for battle in that vale. That one who would become dearer to the fancies of men than either Ruth or Rachel, then walked through these fields, drew water at this spring, passed up and down the lanes of this hamlet, no seer could have then surmised. The place was more than obscure. The Arab may have pitched his black tent by the well, the magistrate of Sephoris must have known the village, but the hamlet was never mentioned by the Jewish scribes. In the Bible, in the Talmud, in the writings of Josephus, we search in vain for any record of this sacred place. Like its happy neighbors, Nain and Endor, it was the abode of husbandmen and oil-dressers, whose lives were spent in the synagogue and the olive-grove, away from the bright Greek cities and the busy Roman roads. No doubt it had once been possessed of either an Arab or a Hebrew name, but we do not know the name except in its Hellenic form. The Greeks called the town Nazaret or Nazareth.-The Holy Land, by W. Hepworth Dixon.

POWER OF A GOOD MAN'S LIFE.-The beauty of a

holy man's life, says Chalmers, constitutes the most eloquent and effective persuasion to religion, which one human being can address to another. We have many ways of doing good to our fellow creatures, but none so efficacious as leading a virtuous, upright, and wellordered life. There is an energy of moral suasion in a

good man's life passing the highest efforts of the orator's genius. The seen but silent beauty of holiness speaks more eloquently of God and duty than the tongues of men and angels. Let parents remember this. The best inheritance a parent can bequeath to a child is a virtuous example, a legacy of hallowed remembrances and associations. The beauty of holiness

beaming through the life of a loved relative or friend,

is more effectual to strengthen such as do stand in virtue's ways, and raise up those that are bowed down, than precept, command, entreaty, or warning. Christianity itself, I believe, owes by far the greater part of its moral power, not to the precepts or parables of holiness which is enshrined in the four brief biograChrist, but to his own character. The beauty of that phies of the man of Nazareth, has done more, and will do more to regenerate the world, and bring in an ever

lasting righteousness, than all other agencies put to

gether. It has done more to spread his religion in the world, than all that has ever been written on the evidences of Christianity.

FAITH.-What has not God given me, in giving me a will to pray? All the rest is his work; and I am as sure as his word and promise can make me, that not one prayer will be lost.-Rev. T. Adams.

mittee and upon the Board of Managers, whose deliberations have been characterized by wisdom and fra ternal love, as well as upon the officers who administer the affairs of the Society.

"May the great Head of the Church pour of his Holy Spirit upon the pastors and Churches of our Zion, and cause the ensuing year to surpass all preceding ones in the advancement and triumphs of his kingdom among the nations of the earth! (Signed,)

ers.

THE MISTAKES OF PUBLISHERS.-An entertaining chapter in the history of literature might be written concerning books that were at first rejected by the trade, but which, when at length given to the press, brought fame to the authors and profit to the publishA list of such books would mention some in almost every department of literature-history, poetry, romance, theology, jurisprudence, and whatever else. Strange as it may seem, there might be placed at the head of such a list a book so universally known as "* Robinson Crusoe." Though De Foe was in good repute as an author, the manuscript of that book was rejected by the whole trade of London, till at length it came to the hands of a publisher who was more noted for his speculative propensities than for his good judgment. He printed it, and cleared 100,000 guineas by his venture; and publishers are to this day making money continually by new editions of it in all styles. "Jane Eyre" was rejected by nearly every respectable publishing house in London, and was finally rescued by accident from a publisher's iron safe, where it had lain t it was moldy, by a daughter of the bookseller, who had himself forgotten it. Kinglake's "Eothen" was offered by its author to twenty different houses, and at last, in a fit of desperation, he gave the copyright to an obscure bookseller, and paid the expenses of publication out of his own pocket. "Vanity Fair" was rejected by Colburn, for whose magazine it was written, that astute publisher complaining there was no interest in it.

Beresford tried in vain to sell the copy-right of "Miseries of Human Life" for £20, but when it was published more than £5,000 were realized from the sales. "The Rejected Addresses" was really rejected by Murray, though the price asked for it was only £20. A publisher was afterward found for it, and after sixteen editions had been published, the same Murray gave £131 for the right to issue a new edition. The total amount received by the author was more than £1,000. Wolfe's exquisite "Ode on the Burial of Sir John Moore" was so scornfully rejected by a leading literary periodical, that the author, when sending it to an obscure Irish newspaper, timidly withheld his name, through fear of being cauterized by the public

critics.

Buchan offered the copy-right of his "Domestic Medicine" to every principal bookseller in Edinburgh and London for £100, without securing a purchaser. After it had passed through twenty five editions the copy-right was sold for £1,600. Drew's "Immortality and Immateriality of the Human Soul," a masterpiece

of profound thought, acute reasoning, and logical accuracy, was offered to a publisher for £10. He thought the risk too great, and the book was published by subscription. A second edition being called for, the author advanced the price of the copy-right to £20, and found a purchaser at that price. It passed through several editions in England, France, and America, and as the author outlived the copy-right, he gave the work a thorough revision and sold it for £250.

The manuscript of the first volume of Blair's Sermons was sent to Strahan, the King's printer, who, after examining it, wrote a letter to the author discouraging the publication. It was not till Dr. Johnson had warmly commended the work, both in conversation and by note, to Mr. Strahan, that he ventured to give him £100 for it. Such was the unpropitious reception of one of the most successful theological works that was ever published. The sale was so rapid and extensive that the publisher made Dr. Blair a present of another hundred pounds, paid him £300 for the second volume, and £600 for each of the others.

Prideaux's Connections was bandied about from hand to hand among the publishers for more than two years, none of them venturing to publish it. It remained in manuscript till Archdeacon Echard, the author's friend, urged it upon Tonson, who published it, and made a fortunate speculation by so doing.

Several similar cases have occurred in the history of American literature. Lowell Mason's first book of music, the Handel and Haydn collection, was rejected by the large publishing houses of Boston, New York, and Philadelphia, but when published it ran rapidly through forty editions. Sunnyside was at different times anxiously urged upon five different publishers, all of whom rejected it. An edition of 500 copies was at last issued at the expense of the author's friends. In less than two years the fortieth thousand was printed, and it was estimated that the book had been read by more than 3,000,000 persons. Prescott's Ferdinand and Isabella met with a decided rebuff from the English publishers. Murray, to whom it was first offered, decidedly rejected it; and Longman, after a more thorough examination than Murray had given, came to the same conclusion. It was finally published by Richard Bently, and had such success that he declared it the best book he had ever brought out.

It was .tated in a literary periodical some years ago that a New York publisher fought the author of a certain novel from Spring to Fall, and then surrendered from sheer inability to resist importunity any longer. After the book was stereotyped, he offered every induce ment to another publisher to take it off his hands, but without success. In despair he finally published it, and the sales went up to 20,000 copies. If rumors current at the time of its publication are correct, Uncle Tom's Cabin had a narrow escape from rejection. When the critic of Jewett & Co. read the chapters of the story as they appeared in the National Era, he decided that a republication of them in book form would not be warranted as a business enterprise. His wife, however, insisted that the book would sell, and insisted so strenuously that he recommended it to his principals; and when published it did sell to an extent altogether unparalleled in the history of books.-The Round Table.