Cleopatra took an equal interest in the effects of the bite of venomous serpents and reptiles. She procured specimens of all these animals, and tried them upon her prisoners, causing the men to be stung and bitten by them, and then watching the effects. These investigations were made, not directly with a view to any practical use which she was to make of the knowledge thus acquired, but rather as an agreeable occupation, to divert her mind, and to amuse Antony and her guests. The variety in the forms and expressions which the agony of her poisoned victims assumed—their writhings, their cries, their convulsions, and the distortions of their features when struggling with death, furnished exactly the kind and degree of excitement which she needed to occupy and amuse her mind.

The experiments which Cleopatra thus made on the nature and effects of poison were not, however, wholly without practical result. Cleopatra learned from them, it is said, that the bite of the asp was the easiest and least painful mode of death. The effect of the venom of that animal appeared to be the lulling of the sensorium into a lethargy or stupor, which soon ended in death, without the intervention of pain. This knowledge she seems to have laid up in her mind for future use. For when the messengers who were sent by Octavius, the Roman general, arrived at the place where the Egyptian Queen held her last festival, what were their discoveries? The soldiers and sentinels were quietly on guard before her door, as if all was well. On entering Cleopatra's room, however, they beheld a shocking spectacle. Cleopatra was lying dead upon a couch. One of her women was upon the floor, dead too. The other, whose name was Charmion, was sitting over the body of her mistress, fondly caressing her, arranging flowers in her hair, and adorning her diadem. The messengers of Octavius, on witnessing this spectacle, were overcome with amazement, and demanded of Charmion what it could mean. "It is all right," said Charmion. "Cleopatra has acted in a manner worthy of a princess descended from so noble a line of kings." As Charmion said this, she began to sink herself, fainting, upon the bed, and almost immediately expired.

The bystanders were not only shocked at the spectacle which was thus presented before them, but they were perplexed and confounded in their attempts to discover by what means Cleopatra and her women had succeeded in effecting their design. They examined the bodies, but no marks of violence were to be discovered. They looked all around the room, but no weapons, and no indication of any means of poison, were to be found. They discovered something that appeared like the slimy track of an animal on the wall, toward a window, which they thought might have been produced by an asp; but the animal itself was no where to be seen. They examined the body with great care, but no marks of any bite or sting were to be found, except that there were two very slight and scarcely discernible punctures on the arm, which some persons fancied might have been so caused. The means and manner of her death seemed to be involved in impenetrable mystery.

It has, however, been generally believed among mankind that Cleopatra died in some way or other by the self-inflicted sting of the asp, and paintings and sculptures without number have been made to illustrate and commemorate the scene. And what the great majority of mankind believe as truth, the few, we presume, must not dare openly to dispute or doubt.

FAREWELL OF FRIENDS.

BY L. G. CLARK.

THERE is perhaps no feeling of our nature so vague, so complicated, so mysterious, as that with which we look upon the cold remains of our fellow-mortals. The dignity with which Death invests the meanest of his victims inspires us with an awe that no living thing can create. The monarch on his throne sinks beneath the beggar in his shroud. The marble features, the powerless hand, the stiffened limb-O, who can contemplate these with feelings that can be defined? These are the mockery of all our hopes and fears-our fondest love, our fellest hate. Can it be that we now shrink almost with horror from the touch of the hand that but yesterday was fondly clasped in our own? Is that tongue, whose accents even now dwell in our ears, forever chained in the silence of death? Those dark and heavy eyelids, are they forever to seal up in darkness the eyes whose glance no earthly power could restrain? And the Spirit which animated that clay-where is it now? Does it witness our grief? does it share our sorrow? Or is the mysterious tie that linked it with mortality broken forever? And remembrances of earthly scenes, are they to the enfranchised spirit as the morning dream or the fading cloud? Alas! "all that we know is, nothing can be known," till we ourselves shall have passed the dread ordeal. And well will it be, if in looking our last upon the dead body of a departed friend, we can say with the sainted Wesley, in the full fruition of that faith which "reacheth within the vail:"

"The languishing head is at rest,

Its thinking and aching are o'er;
That quiet, immovable breast

Is heaved by affliction no more:
The heart is no longer the seat

Of sorrow, or shaken with pain:
It ceases to flutter and beat-
It never will flutter again!
No anger, henceforward, nor shame,
Shall redden that innocent clay;
Extinct is the animal flame,

And passion has vanished away:
The lids he so seldom could close,
By sorrow forbidden to sleep,
Sealed up in eternal repose,

Have strangely forgotten to weep."

We say of our departed friends, "They are gone!”— the angels say, "They are come!" We say, "They are dead!"-the angels say, "They are alive!" We say, "They are fallen asleep in Jesus;" the angels say, “They are awakened to a blissful and joyous resurrection morning." It is not many months since we attended the funeral of a young friend, who, with his family, were professors of religion. The scene at the house surprised while it gratified us. There was no dead silence, no darkened windows and darker faces, glooming in the "sad habiliments of woe;" but the windows and doors were open; the apartments were light and cheerful; there were no suppressed sobs or violent weeping. Till the minister began to speak, hopefully and cheerfully, of the departed brother, who had gone to another and a better world, the friends and acquaintances of the deceased gathered about the coffin which stood in the hall, and spoke familiarly and affectionately of the spirit which had so lately informed the passive clay that lay before them. No bitter tears were shed-no heart seemed wrung with anguish. Certainly it was to our eye, a perfect realization of the strength and sincerity of a

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FOREST-WORSHIPERS OF BOHEMIA.

BY REV. W. H. RULE.

PRECIOUS in the first days of the seventeenth century was the word of life to the followers of Christ. When religious meetings could not be held in towns, people would go away, even in the depth of winter, to the vast native forests, and penetrate so far that no sound could be heard, nor any trace of them perceived. Under the trees covered with snow that formed a solid roof, they laid up their wagons and tethered the horses. With the straight branches of fir-trees they raised commodious huts, which gave their children shelter; and in the open spaces they made fires. From the rivers and lakes they drew fish to vary their repast. Daily worship was held without fear. A bell summoned the scattered families to the place of congregation, and there they sang from rare copies of the old Bohemian Hymn-Book; and a clergyman, long banished from the world, a tenant of the wilderness, set forth the lively truths of Christianity, and administered the eucharistic emblems of the Lord's death, just after the manner that John Huss had taught their fathers. The trunk of a tree, felled for the purpose, and cut smooth, served as a communion-table. Villages on the skirts of those forests were sometimes deserted, except by children, who could scarcely be trusted with the secret. If a stranger happened to ask them where their parents were, they would answer, "In the forest;" a sentence as familiar to their ear as "in the field," or "at the plow."

Too familiar is the reader with the chronicles of history to doubt the bloodthirstiness of persecution in those days. "In the forest" and "in the field," the faithful were pursued and caught-then fagoted and murdered. Glance with me, reader, a moment, and view the deportment of some of these faithful ones, after having been caught and caged in the prison-houses of Prague.

Disconsolate friends implored the release from prison of their kindred and acquaintance; yet within the dungeon walls there was less appearance of sorrow; for God sustained his servants in the hours of severest trial. In one of the town-halls they united in a solemn meal, their last on earth, rejoicing in the prospect of so soon eating at the table of their Lord in heaven-a hope which the Romish governor derided; and, hearing that their brethren, the lords and barons, were coming from the castle, in order to be ready for execution the next morning, they ran to the windows, and welcomed them by singing the forty-fourth Psalm. The people on the outside also received them with a sincere solemnity of tears. When the fatal hour arrived, the condemned came to the scaffold, one by one, as called by name. On leaving his brethren, each pronounced a short sentence or two-such as, "Farewell, dear friends! May God give you the consolation of his Spirit, patience, and firmness, to persevere in that which you have hitherto acknowledged with your heart, mouth, and hand!" or, "I go before you to behold the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ. Follow me, that we may together behold the Father's face." And they answered him by, "God help thy departure, and send thee a happy passage from this vale of tears into the heavenly country!" or, "May the Lord Jesus send his holy angels to meet thee!" or, "Hasten before us, dear brother, into the house of our Father: we follow thee." A clergyman attended each, conversing with him in words taken chiefly

within hearing could not but hear with reverence; while the beating of drums and clang of trumpets prevented all others from catching a syllable. So the company in the court-yard diminished; and as the clergyman returned with intelligence of the constancy with which each met death, they praised God, and prayed for equal strength. One of these champions-Count of Passau and Elbogen-stepping on the scaffold, observed the sun shining brightly, and, looking upward, said, "Sun of righteousness, Jesus Christ, grant that I may come to thy light through the shadow of death." Another, seventy-four years old, heard, from certain officials, of a report that he had died of grief. “I?” the hoary baron asked, "I? I have seldom had more joyful hours. See my paradise," holding up a Bible in his hand, "it has never offered me such heavenly food as now.' Just before receiving the deadly stroke, he said, "Now I shall wear the garment of righteousness. I shall shine before God, in whom I have trusted." Another-Gaspar, Baron Kaplirz-eighty-six years old, and unable to walk without assistance, was supported by two clergymen. "Raise your head," said one of the ministers as he stood on the black cloth. He looked up, and cried, "Lord Jesus, into thy hands I commend my spirit." The executioner swung his sword-the gray head fell. Another kneeled on the fatal spot, and repeated the song of Simeon. Another declared that heaven was his prospect, where God would wipe away tears from his eyes, and where there would be no more pain nor death, neither sorrow nor crying.

Bitter was the spirit and keen the indignation of Milton when he wrote the lines,

"Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones

Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold!"

and irrepressible is the spirit within us, when we see how like wild beasts the Bohemians were hunted down, and made to yield up their lives to the stroke of the executioner's ax!

HOPE IN GOD.

THE sailor on the midnight sea, if he would behold the star, that alone would guide him across the trackless deep, must look not on the dark troubled waves, but at the clear blue heavens. If the sky is overcast, and the star vailed by clouds, he must turn to his compass; and its needle, ever true to the pole, will point to the star, though it be all hidden from his vision. So we, tossed on many a billow, if we would see Heaven's guiding light, must look, not on the waves of temptation that dash and break around, but above, to God. Should darkness and clouds gather in the sky, let us turn to the Bible, and it will point to Him who shines beyond the clouds in unchanging glory.

POPULAR RELIGION.

He that breaks off the yoke of obedience, and unties the bands of discipline, and preaches a cheap religion, and presents heaven in the midst of flowers, and strews carpets softer than Asian luxury in the way, and sets the songs of Sion to the tunes of the Persian and lighter airs, and offers great liberty of living, and reconciles eternity with present enjoyment-he shall have his schools filled with disciples; but he that preaches the cross, and the severities of Christianity, and the strictnesses of a holy life, shall have the lot of his blessed Lord; he shall be thought ill of, and deserted.

Lew Books.

A COMPENDIUM OF METHODISM: embracing the History and Present Condition of its Various Branches in all Countries; with a Defense of its Doctrinal, Governmental, and Prudential Peculiarities. By Rev. James Porter, A. M. C. H. Peirce & Co.: Boston. 1851.-This work, the full title of which we have given, is, without question, the most ample and satisfactory of the kind now before the public. It is not simply a good book in the typographical sense of the term, but it is a good book in the full literary and religious meaning of the word. We have been extremely gratified in its examination; and though embracing about five hundred pages duodecimo, it is certainly as cheap an issue as can any where be found. Didactic, polemic, narrative, historical, and biographical, it can not fail to interest the reader. On sale by Swormstedt & Power, at one dollar; twenty-five per cent. discount to wholesale purchasers.

PRIMARY PLATFORM OF METHODISM; or, Exposition of the General Rules. By Rev. Moses M. Henkle, D. D. Louisville, Ky. Published by the Author & Company. 1851.-"Another work on Methodism?" Yes, reader; but not, perhaps, the last one. This volume does not pass over the ground of the work above noticed. Its field is almost entirely distinct. We have not had an opportunity thoroughly to examine Dr. Henkle's treatise; yet, so far as we have looked, with the exception of a few paragraphs, we think it opportune and valuable. Worldy amusements are shown to be wholly incompatible with Christianity and Methodism-a fact which we wish were practically known by all who profess religion. Dr. Henkle is editor of the Southern Lady's Companion. We wish him entire success in the circulation and sale of his book.

HISTORY OF JOSEPHINE. By John S. C. Abbott. With Engravings. New York: Harper & Brothers. 1851.-The name of Josephine is one of peculiar interest in modern history. Pages in this book will draw tears from eyes, perhaps, that are not in the habit of weeping at ordinary woes. Written in Mr. Abbott's peculiarly felicitous and graphic style, we can see no reason to prevent an extremely wide circulation for the volume. Our lady friends, we think, will not regret the time spent in reading this history of the life and trials of one of the most accomplished and amiable of the ladies of modern times.

THE YOUNG CHRISTIAN. By Jacob Abbott. New York: Harper & Brothers. 1851. This work has enjoyed a very wide popularity both in this country and England. It has appeared under a great variety of editions; but the one before us, in its clear type and numerous engravings, is altogether superior to any edition hitherto published. With some of the peculiar theological views of Mr. Abbott we can not sympathize. The general tenor of the treatise before us is not, however, very exceptionable. Some parts are of a decidedly superior character; and we think much light and profit of a religious nature may be obtained from a careful perusal of its pages.

THE HORRORS OF THE LIQUOR TRAFFIC, both Wholesale and Retail: a Discourse delivered in Wesley Chapel, Indianapolis, September 14, 1851, by Rev. B. F. Crary, A. M., is a well-tempered and stirring sermon for all abettors of the trade in human happiness and blood. We should like to see it in the hands of every importer and vender of liquor, as well as distributed among the hosts of hotel-keepers and bar-keepers that, like Egypt's locusts, cover our land. It would stir them up to thought.

THE SHEAF; or, the Work of God in the Soul, as Illustrated in the Personal Experience of Mrs. Cordelia Thomas. Henry V. Degen: Boston. 1852.-This is an 18mo. volume, neatly printed, and tastefully bound, and contains the Christian experience of the wife of a Methodist clergyman in the city of Buf falo. From a hasty glance at the table of contents and the style of the work, we think it will prove abundantly useful. Narratives of this kind are, in general, more interesting and more profitable than didactic treatises of a severer character. The Christian reader will be delighted in the perusal of this volume. It conveys many instructive lessons in practical religion.

Periodicals.

THE WESLEYAN METHODIST Magazine, published by John Mason, City Road, London, is a monthly of one hundred and forty-four pages, devoted to the interests of Wesleyan Methodism in Great Britain, and is now in its seventy-fourth year of exist ence. It was commenced in the year 1788, and has been published without interruption to the present day. In the November and December numbers, lying before us, we observe a memoir of Miss Marianne Fawcett, of Sheffield, written by Rev. Robert Jackson; a very edifying article on a most intelligent, and deeply useful, and pious disciple of Jesus. Dr. Olin's baccalaureate address on the Relations of Christian Principle to Mental Culture, is republished entire in these two numbers. The subscription price is one shilling per number, or about three dollars

per year.

THE WESTMINSTER REVIEW for October has several striking articles. Western Africa, the first of the number, is quite readable and instructive. The eighth, on Life and Immortality, is one that characterizes the Westminster. It is just such a piece of composition and infidel theorizing as will suit the followers of Theodore Parker and others of his school.

THE LONDON QUARTERLY REVIEW for October has nine articles, several of which are of commanding interest. WidowBurning, the first of the list, is a sad picture of the continued existence of one of the most horrible of heathen rites. It shows that in some places, at least, the suttees or burning of widows is purely a voluntary act on the part of the latter, and that any widow can decline the death if she desires so to do. Life and Works of Bishop of Ken, Life and its Successive Developments, and Papal Pretensions, are well-written papers.

BLACKWOOD'S MAGAZINE for November has rather an excess of political and novelette matter. The Dramas of Henry Taylor, German Letters from Paris, and the Submarine Telegraph, are worthy of perusal. The December number is rather better than the November.

THE SOUTHERN REPERTORY AND COLLEGE REVIEW is a new candidate for public favor, issued monthly at Emory, Va., under the supervision of the Faculty of Emory and Henry College. The Poetry of Science, a leading article, is written in a fervid and eloquent style. The Exodus of Egypt, a poem in five cantos, is a beautiful and creditable specimen of versification.

GUIDE TO HOLINESS for December opens with an article on Christian Perfection by Dr. Bangs, wherein the Doctor argues that what of holiness we possess we must profess-a point which has caused some pretty animated discussion of late. The number is an excellent one.

THE MOTHER'S ASSISTANT, YOUNG LADY'S FRIEND, AND FAMILY MANUAL for January comes to us in a new dress. Its articles are very creditable-pure in style and sentiment, and well adapted to the home circle.

THE UNITED STATES MONTHLY LAW MAGAZINE AND EXAMINER, edited and published by John Livingston, New York, contains judicious essays upon legal topics, biographical sketches of distinguished lawyers, early notes of the more able and important decisions of the courts of America and Great Britain, alphabetical digests of all cases of general interest in the superior courts of law and equity, properly classified and arranged, besides a large amount of critical notices alike of literary and law publications. The numbers for October, November, and December of the last year, stitched together, contain the names and post-office address of all the lawyers of all the states in the Union.

WOODWORTH'S YOUTH'S CABINET, published at New York, at one dollar per year, begins its seventh volume with fine prospects. Of all the monthlies for youth, the Cabinet is first in point of typographical execution and literary merit.

THE SOUTHERN LADY'S COMPANION, it appears from a circular issued by the Publishing Committee, must close its existence with the March number, unless delinquent subscribers make immediate payment, and unless there be a large increase of paying subscribers. We regret this.

Lewspapers.

ONE stormy winter day, the Rev. Mr. Young, of Jedburg, was visiting one of his people, an old man, who lived in great poverty in a lonely cottage. He found him sitting with the Bible open on his knees, but in outward circumstances of great discomfort-the snow drifting through the roof and under the door, and scarce any fire on the hearth. "What are you about today, John?" was his question on entering. "Ah, sir," said the happy saint, "I am sitting under His shadow with great delight!" He submits to be seen through a microscope who suffers himself to be caught in a passion.

Men are to be estimated, as Johnson says, by the mass of character. A block of tin may have a grain of silver, but still it is tin; and a block of silver may have an alloy of tin, but still it is silver.

Robert Hall said of family prayer, "It serves as an edge and border, to preserve the web of life from unraveling."

None have been so good and so great, or have raised themselves so high as to be above the reach of troubles. Our Lord was "a man of sorrows."

Our prayers and God's mercy are like two buckets in a well, while the one ascends the other descends.

Never reproach a man with the faults of his relatives. They have voices, those bright stars, and speak to the human heart, if we will but seek counsel of them-voices more sweet, more powerful, more true, than those which astrologers of old ascribed to them. The power and presence of Divinity is spoken by them, if not to crush, to overcome man's passions; and deaf must be the ear that will not hear.

A young minister lately said, when near death, "Formerly death appeared to me like a wide river, but now it has dwindled to a little rill; and my comforts, which were as the rill, have become the broad and deep stream."

Dr. Belknap, in a mixed company, hearing a person speak in a very free manner against the Christian religion, asked, “Have you found one that is better?" and the reply being in the negative, he added, "When you do, let me know, and I will join you in adopting it."

Temptations are a file which rub off much of the dust of selfconfidence.

True courage is the result of reasoning. A brave mind is impregnable. Resolution lies more in the head than in the veins; and a just sense of honor and religion will carry us further than the force of mechanism.

Many a noble enterprise, when almost safe in port, has at last been shipwrecked by well-meaning willfulness, or through that infirmity of vision which mistakes a house-lamp for a lighthouse-a denominational crotchet for a Christian principle.

Like one of those wondrous rocking-stones reared by the Druids, which the finger of a child might vibrate to its center, yet the might of an army could not move from its place, the American Constitution is so nicely poised that it seems to sway with every breath of passion, yet so firmly based in the hearts and affections of the people, that the wildest storms of treason and fanaticism break over it in vain.

Chateaubriand says, "In new colonies, the Spaniards begin by building a church, the French a ball-room, and the English a tavern."

The greatest truths are the simplest; and so are the greatest

men.

Almost every man wastes part of his life in attempts to display qualities which he does not possess, and to gain applause which he can not keep.

It has been said by a fine writer, that "prayer should be the key to open the heart in the morning, and lock it against all enemies at night," and the remark can not fairly be confined to private devotion; the whole household should assemble at the beginning of the day, and when it draweth toward evening, and with one accord address the throne of grace in words of supplication and thanksgiving.

It is safer to be humble with one talent than to be proud with

ten.

Be not ashamed to be, or to be esteemed poor in this world; for be that hears God teaching him will find that is the best wisdom

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to withdraw all our affections from secular honor and troublesome riches, and by patience, by humility, by suffering scorn and contempt, and the will of God, to get the true riches.

A writer has compared worldly friendship to our shadow; and a better comparison was never made; for while we walk in sunshine it sticks close to us, but the moment we enter the shade it deserts us.

Ignorance is a blank sheet on which we may write; but error is a scribbled one from which we must first erase. Ignorance has no light, but error follows a false one. The consequence is, that error, when she retraces her steps, has further to go before she can arrive at truth than ignorance.

Were we as eloquent as angels we should please some men, some women, and some children much more by listening than by talking.

The enthusiast has been compared to a man walking in a fog-every thing immediately around him, or in contact with him, appears sufficiently clear and luminous; but beyond the little circle of which he is the center, all is mist, error, and confusion.

Virtue without talent is a coat of mail without a sword; it may indeed defend the wearer, but will not enable him to protect his friend.

The purest ore-metal-is produced from the hottest furnace, and the brightest thunderbolt from the darkest storm.

When we are at the summit of a vain ambition, we are also at the depth of real misery.

None are so fond of secrets as those who do not mean to keep them; such persons covet secrets as a spendthrift covets moneyfor the purpose of circulation.

None are so seldom found alone, or are so soon tired of their own company, as those coxcombs who are on the best terms with themselves.

Pride, like the magnet, constantly points to one object-self; but, unlike the magnet, it has no attractive pole, but at all points repels.

Two men who were most interested in finding Christ guilty, bore their testimony to his innocence: "I have betrayed innocent blood;" "I find no fault in him."

Our thoughts, like the waters of the sea, when exhaled toward heaven, will lose their offensive bitterness and saltness, and leave behind them every distasteful quality, and sweeten into an amiable humanity and candor, till they descend in gentle showers of love and kindness on our fellow-beings.

Error is like the fabled hydra-though a thousand times beheaded, she still lives; and will live so long as men "love darkness, and choose it rather than light."

When the heart is pure, there is hardly any thing that can mislead the understanding of the thoughtful and pure-minded.

Religious toleration is a duty, a virtue, which man owes to man; considered as a public right, it is the respect of the government to the consciences of the citizens, and the objects of their veneration and their faith.

It is bad to make an unnecessary show of high principles, but it is worse to have no high principles to show.

Pride is never so effectually put to the blush as when it finds itself contrasted with an easy but dignified humility.

An hour's industry will do more to produce cheerfulness, suppress evil humors, and retrieve your affairs than a month's moaning.

Men and actions, like objects of sight, have their points of perspective: some must be seen at a distance.

The first step to misery is to nourish in ourselves an affection for evil things, and the hight of misfortune is to be able to indulge such affections.

To yield to the passions is to give up the struggle and acknowledge ourselves better; but to contend to the last is to earn the reward of the faithful.

A person can scarcely be put into a more dangerous position than when external circumstances have produced some striking change in his condition, without his manner of feeling and of thinking having undergone any preparation for it.

A benevolent man estimates others by the degree in which he can make them happy. A selfish man by the degree in which he can make them subservient to his own interests.

Editor's Cable.

OUR congratulations once more to you, reader. Thus far winter has given us some samples of bitter cold weather. The simple fact that a bridge of ice was formed over the Ohio, be. tween Cincinnati and the adjacent cities-Covington and New. port-before Christmas had even reached us, is demonstration enough that fires have been comfortable things in our city, and much appreciated by all classes of citizens. Thousands upon thousands, and ten times ten thousand, were the trips made back and forth by men, women, and children. Horses and mules, cattle and hogs, wagons, sleds, and drays, without number, also found their way over the frozen bridge, the width of which was said to be about fourteen hundred feet.

"Too much of a good thing is good for nothing," as the proverb has it; and we fear that the bare mention of the word Kossuth by us will help some one wholly to overlook the remainder of this paragraph. The advent of the Queen of England to our shores could not create a greater degree of excitement than has been created by the visit of the illustrious Magyar. The London papers, always slow to see, and slower still to acknowledge, merit in any body except their own country. men, were prompt in declaring Kossuth to be one of the most wonderful orators that has appeared in modern times. It is doubtful whether the past three hundred years can claim a mightier man than the Hungarian governor. Beyond all othe s, he seems to possess the faculty of rousing the human mind and touching the human heart. On his arrival in England, and while making a speech, in which were detailed some of the most thrilling incidents that took place during the struggle for independence in Hungary, he paused for a few moments, appar. ently overcome by feeling and memory; and on resuming, "Pardon my emotions," said he, with a sublime solemnity; "the shadows of our martyrs passed before my eyes-I heard the millions of my native land once more shouting Liberty or Death!" The reader may have seen these words before; but where is the man that will hesitate to read them again and again? and where, in the whole range of oratory, ancient or modern, will a more striking, a more affecting, and a more overwhelming effort be found? We have looked in vain for a parallel.

Our volume on Hungary and Kossuth, we are informed by the publisher Mr. Ball-is selling rapidly. A second edition, much larger than the first, is being printed, and orders for nearly the whole edition are already received. It seems that in New York city folks were anxious to see who could get a first copy. For a while there the work sold at the rate of a thousand a week. The lectures by Dr. Durbin-the first on the Signs of the Times, and the second on the Present Condition of Turkeydelivered early this winter in our city, were among the finest of extemporaneous performances. The proceeds of the second lecture were devoted to the liquidation of the debt hanging over the Everett-Street German Mission Methodist Episcopal Church of Cincinnati.

Our stock of long articles, we are under the necessity of repeating, is ample. Brevity is said to be "the soul of wit." Certainly it would now and then give soul to us if we could find it in communications. Readers like long articles occasionally, but they do not like them as a perpetual thing. An article, we confess, may be brief, and yet be wholly destitute of terseness. When an article is short, let it also be vivacious and captivating. A lady friend inquires of us why we do not furnish a "Sermon to Young Husbands," as a sort of counterpart to the "Sermon for Young Wives" in our last number. Most cordially would we publish such a discourse, could some of our fair readers find time to fix one up, and send it in. Young men, and particularly young men who are husbands, stand just as much in need of good sound counsel, if not more so, than young ladies. They frequently need checks to their temper and to their purse-strings; and we know of none who could deal out these checks better than some young wife, well furnished with moderation and amiable Christian temper. In our judgment, all husbands, old as well as young, ought to be well behaved at home. By this we mean that they should not dispose of all their smiles and all their sweet looks when among strangers, but should treasure up a full supply

of kind words and pleasant looks for the home circle. Nobody likes a smile more than a wife from her husband-just one smile: it is worth forty frowns, and will act like magic on the domestic circle. Ye who are husbands-for we must add a word of exhortation-learn this first great lesson of your married life-be kind and cheerful at home, love your wife, keep your soul from fretting, and lend your heart of sympathy and your hand of help in all the trials that come upon her, who has left every thing to make you happy.

The appearance of a volume of poems by Mrs. Rebecca S. Nichols, our welcome and talented contributor, has created quite a sensation in literary circles. We have nothing of flattery in the remark, that Mrs. Nichols ranks among the first of American poetical writers. She is better known, of course, in the west, her place of residence; but wherever known her talents are acknowledged and appreciated. Songs of the Heart and the Hearth-Stone is the title given her collection of poems, and a most appropriate title it is. Whoever wishes to treat himself or any female friend with a real literary gem, could not do better than purchase this work. We may again allude to it hereafter. Our plates, we think, must give satisfaction. "Perished in the Snow" will probably awaken sad incidents and associations in the heart of some reader; yet death by freezing is not the most painful process of dissolution. Stupor, sleep, total insen. sibility come gradually on, and the victim dies without appar ently any suffering. Sit you, reader, before a bright and glowing fire? Think, as the wind comes hunting, like a famished wolf, for entrance around your dwelling, of the traveler on the plain or in the forest, or of the sailor far out on the sea, rattling and climbing among the shrouds, or keeping watch on the vessel's deck. The hour for retiring comes. Your toils are over for the day, and, without a thought of anxiety or an emotion of concern for others, may be, you throw yourself upon your bed, and seek, in dreams, an oblivion of all the sorrows of this life. Think of the wretched. Turn your eye and your ear without,

Listen if

you can not catch some sound, though faintly, of distress. Think of your lot, better than that of thousands, and then thank Him who is your kind Father in heaven, that the lines have fallen to you in such pleasant places.

We have had it in our mind a long while to say something of the Young Men's Mercantile Library and Reading Room of this city. The rooms are in the College Building, Walnut-street, east side, just above Fourth. Resident young men should by all means avail themselves of a membership in this association, and devote such moments as they can spare from business to reading the books, periodicals, and newspapers found here. Strangers visiting the city should likewise give the Library rooms a call. They can be introduced by any friend who is a member of the Association. The Librarian-Mr. Cist-and all the other officers are most attentive and gentlemanly. We are under great obligations to them for their many civilities tendered us.

Very gratifying is it for us to be able to state that our friends, east and west, are not forgetting the interests of the Repository. Subscribers are pouring in from all quarters. At the present writing the holidays-we have a larger number on our books than for the same period last year. And this notwithstanding the rule adopted by the Agents requiring payment strictly in advance. Brother Pilcher, of Michigan, as a beginning in his efforts, sends us twenty-seven names for the new year. He has our thanks for his efforts. We hope he may even yet have more abundant success.

Our correspondent who sends us a letter criticising a brother preacher, will be so kind as to excuse our publishing his remarks. Polemics, or any leaning toward polemics, in our columns, would prove unacceptable, we think, to the vast majority of our readers. Personal difficulties and peculiarities are much easier mended by personal interviews than by bringing them before the public, who generally are much better pleased with an ignorance of them than a parading of them before their view.

The Methodist Monthly, a sprightly periodical, edited by Rev. T. N. Ralston, Lexington, Ky., has closed its career, at the decision of the Publishing Committee.

Salander and the Dragon, an allegory not inferior to Bunyan's immortal work, shall be noticed in our next.