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Editorial Book-Table.

EARLY HISTORY OF THE LUTHERAN CHURCH IN AMERICA. By C. W. SCHAEFFER, D.D. Lutheran Board of Publication, Phila.

We predict for this book an extensive circulation. It is written in a very pleasing and attractive style, and unfolds scenes in the early history of our Church in this country, which, to many of us, have hitherto been veiled in doubt and obscurity. Some of these scenes are of thrilling interest; and will inspire the reader with profounder sympathy with the Church of the Reformation, and enshrine the names of those venerable patriarchs of the Lutheran Church in hallowed memory. This book, from its subject and treatment, must become a classic in our Lutheran Church literature. We hope the grateful and admiring reception of this volume will induce the author to prosecute the work which he has so satisfactorily begun, and favor us with a continuation of these historical sketches, down to the middle of the nineteenth century. T. s.

LIGHT FROM THE CROSs. Sermons on the Passion of our Lord. Translated from the German of Dr. A. THOLUCK, Professor of Theology in the University of Halle.

This volume of sermons was sent to us by an American publisher, with the question, "Shall I issue an American edition of this work?" My answer was spontaneous and decisive, "Certainly; publish it promptly, or you will be anticipated by some one, who will see at a glance that such a volume cannot fail to be both a public benefaction, and a personal profit, the latter consideration being quite as potent with publishers, ordinarily, as the former."

These sermons are selected from the fourth and fifth volumes of Dr. Tholuck's sermons. They were originally delivered in the University service at Halle, where Dr. Tholuck is preacher to the University. As these sermons were addressed to the students, they have special reference to young men, and, in this respect, will help to supply a great desideratum in our existing Christian literature. But, as the religious service in the University usually attracts a large, promiscuous congregation to hear one of the greatest preachers of the age, these discourses abound in truths suited to all classes and ages,-" rich thoughts drawn from the mine of Truth; deep, farreaching glances into the heart of man; and such an insight into the heart of Jesus in the hours of his suffering, as is vouchsafed not to learning or philosophy, but to humble faith alone." Most readers know something of Dr.

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LIFE PICTURES: From a Pastor's Note-Book. By R. TURNBULL. New York: Sheldon, Blakeman & Company.

Dr. Turnbull is justly regarded as among the first writers in the Baptist Church. His works are read by admiring thousands of all denominations. In learning, gracefulness of style, and poetical beauty of thought, he ranks with William R. Williams, of New York, who is, in our humble estimate, one of the first writers in America. No one will regard this as a random, or an extravagant estimate of Turnbull, who has read his "Theophany," "Christ in History," or his "Genius of Scotland."

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These "Life Pictures,”—though out of his usual sphere of writing,-fully sustain his high reputation as a thinker and writer. They are touching narratives and facts connected with the development of the spiritual life in conflict with doubt and scepticism. Most of these Life-Pictures are taken from personal observation during a pastorate of a quarter of a century. Some of these life scenes are most beautiful and touching. Frank Wilson, or The Student Sceptic," ought to be read by every inquisitive mind, haunted by the prevalent scepticism, or any forms of doubt. "The Aged Pilgrim" and "The Land of Beulah" are pictures for the heart, pictures, that make one weep with joy, and give us visions of heaven through our tears. We should be happy to see this book in every family. We would avail ourselves of this method of acknowledging the author's companying note, expressing his personal kindness in sending us this book, with the acinterest in our "Home-Scenes." Apart from all personal considerations, we feel such an interest in the Life-Pictures, as will prompt us to do all in our power, to extend the circulation of a book so eminently experimental and practical on many of the vital questions and doctrines of Christianity.

T. S.

THE TWO PILGRIMS. By Rev. F. R. AN-
SPACH, A. M.
For the Lutheran Board of

Publication. Lindsay & Blakiston, Philadelphia.

The title of this book, as the author remarks, in the Preface, "indicates the scope and subject-matter of discussion." The experience of the pious Israelite is viewed as typical of the Christian's pilgrimage to the heavenly Canaan.

The Jewish history is more than the history of a nation; it is a record of Jehovah's dealings with His Church. That nation formed His Church; and its history accordingly assumes the character of a picture, wherein all His redeemed people may see shadowed forth their own pilgrimage through this world to Heaven. Every step in the pious Israelite seems a striking prefiguration of the Christian pilgrim.

This book is eminently practical, and will serve to refresh, guide, and strengthen many a weary pilgrim on his way to Heaven. If we were disposed to be critical, we might object to the opening chapter, in which our fallen race is represented as adrift upon an ocean of storms, casting "priceless souls on the bleak rock of a cheerless eternity." The figure would not bear the rules of rhetorical criticism, and is inconsistent with the main

design of the work, which is a representation of a pilgrim and not a voyager.

But this is a small matter in a work of such abounding excellencies. It is written in the author's usual style-ornate and forcible; and contains many passages of great beauty and power. It is a book which every Christian pilgrim should read on his heavenward way, to refresh and strengthen his soul, to mark his progress, and keep his rest in view. We can give to this work the most unqualified commendation, and hope it may have a circulation commensurate with its merits. T. S. BOOKS ON OUR TABLE. The Bible and Astronomy. By J. H. KURTZ, D.D., Author of "Manual of Sacred History." Lindsay & Blakiston.

The Testimony of the Rocks. By HUGH MILLER. Gould and Lincoln..

These, with several other works, we have not yet read. We had no idea, when assuming this Department of the "Journal," that we should be favored with so many books; and, as we regard it as a species of dishonesty to speak of a book, without reading it, we are sometimes under the necessity of postponing the usual notices of books on our table. T. S.

Editorial Miscellany.

REV. D. GARVER ABROAD.-Just as we are about putting the present Number of the Lutheran Home Journal to press, we have received an interesting letter from our beloved brother, Rev. D. GARVER, who sailed, a few weeks since, from New York, in the Steamer Vanderbilt, for Europe. The letter is dated at London, June 12th, and will be published in our next. Brother GARVER promises to furnish us with a regular series of letters during his travels abroad. He purposes visiting England, France, Ireland, Scotland, Denmark, and Germany. We bespeak for the letters of Brother GARVER, in advance, an attentive perusal. If the first is to serve as a specimen, the series will prove highly interesting. H. CLERICAL CHANGE. — Rev. AUGUSTUS T. GEISSENHAINER, until recently the beloved pastor of the German Lutheran Congregation at Trenton, N. J., has received and accepted a call to the German Lutheran Congregation, at Allentown, Lehigh County, Pa. Mr. G. accordingly desires his correspondents to address him at the latter place. We do not at all doubt, that this, under the Divine blessing, will prove a most successful and agreeable connection. Mr. G. is well known to the Christian public as a most faithful and efficient pastor and

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THEATRES.-It is contrary to our general custom, to publish Sermons, as such, for the reason, that, once introduced, our pages would be occupied with little else. We deviate from the rule, however, to make room in the present number of the Home Journal for an abstract of a most excellent Discourse recently delivered, in the City of New York, by the Rev. A. B. VAN ZANDT, of the German Reformed Church. It is in reply to an Address previously delivered, in that city, by Mr. BELLOWS, of the Unitarian Church, in defence of Theatres. We regard the views of Rev. Mr. VAN ZANDT as eminently sound and logical. In our opinion, he scatters the fine-spun, transparent sophistries of Mr. BELLOWS to the four winds, as if they had been a spider's web. One fact, connected with the Address of Mr. BELLOWS, struck us as full of significance. His defence of theatres, it is said, occupied two hours in the delivery, and fills almost an entire page of closely printed matter in the

New York Herald, and yet, from beginning to end, there is not contained in it a single argument taken from Scripture! One would sup. pose, that a discourse on a grave question of morals and religion, spoken by a professed minister of the Gospel, would, of course, abound with argumentation derived from that acknowledged fountain of truth, the inspired Oracles of Heaven, and yet, significant fact, there is not in the lengthy and labored address of Mr. BELLOWs even so much as a solitary Scripture quotation of three or five words! It might be said of the reverend defender of theatres, "One thing thou lackest yet,-THE BIBLE." That, to him and his argument, it seems, was a sealed book. We desire no more convincing proof, that the address of Mr. BELLOWS has no favor in heaven, as it certainly has of very few truly good men on earth.

H.

CHARLES WESLEY'S LAST HYMN. The Hymn No. 671, in the Methodist Hymn Book, was the last lyrical composition of Charles Wesley. It was taken down by his wife, at his dictation, a short time before he died. Its allusion to "age and feebleness" was in view of his own prostrate condition:

"In age and feebleness extreme,

Who shall a helpless worm redeem?
Jesus! my only hope thou art,
Strength of my failing flesh and heart!
Oh! might I catch one smile from thee,
And drop into Eternity!"

FRENCH SUPERSTITION.-A curious item of statistics in the French papers illustrates the superstition of the Parisians. It is observed, that on Fridays the omnibus travel of Paris diminishes in the proportion of twenty-five per cent.,--so strong is the superstitious avoidance of doing anything that can be helped on that "unlucky" day. It is also further remarked, that when Friday happens to fall on the 13th of the month, which has occurred twice this year, the omnibus receipts decrease at the rate of fifty per cent.

TAXES.-The Legislature of New York, at its recent session, assessed a State tax of three mills on the dollar upon all the taxable property in the State. New York City will have to pay $1,535,221, in addition to $6,664,851 for city and county taxes, making a total of $8,200,072. There is a great deal of grumbling through the State at the increase. If there is any place, where economy is generally considered a virtue, it is in legislative bodies. The people are always in favor of cheap government or light taxation, and experience is in favor of this popular standard of legislative fitness; for the most expensive governments, those whose prodigality or wasteful expenditure makes high taxes necessary, whether municipal, state, or national, are generally either the most ineflicient or the most corrupt.

NATURE THE TEACHER.-Hugh Miller says,

in his last great work, "The Testimony of the Rocks," &c., that there is scarce an architectural ornament of the Gothic or Grecian styles, which may not be found as fossils existing in the rocks. The Illodendron, says Mr. Miller, was "sculptured into gracefully arranged rows of pointed and closely imbricated leaves, similar to those into which the Roman architects fretted the torus of the Corinthian order. The Sigittaria were fluted columns, ornately carved in the line of the channelled flutes; the Lepidodendra bore, according to their species, sculptured scales, or lozenges, or egg-like hollows, set in a sort of frame, and relieved into knobs and furrows; all of them furnishing examples of a delicate diaper work, like that so admired in our more ornate Gothic buildings, such as Westminster Abbey, or Canterbury and Chichester Cathedrals, only greatly more exquisite in their design and finish." No one can rise from the perusal of Mr. Miller's volume, without feeling convinced, that it is one of the most interesting and erudite contributions to scientific literature of modern times.

THE BEGINNINGS OF EMINENCE.-There is a paragraph in a late number of "Harper's Weekly," asserting that Bulwer has succeeded as a novelist, dramatist, essayist, poet, historian, orator, politician, and man of the world, and that in each of these, except the last, he has commenced with a failure, but pushed ahead and reached the goal of success. This is Bulwer's own view of the matter, and, in expressing it, the intention is most benevolent, no doubt, being designed to encourage incipient authors, poets, and politicians to persevere, though success should not attend their first efforts. But the misfortune is, that those who need this instruction, are certainly not Bulwers, and those who do not, even if one in a thousand of them has merit, will be in no little danger of being spoiled, through just such overstimulating to force his way against all modesty.

THE CLOTHING TRADE.-The" Boston Post" estimates the average cost of clothing to each individual in the United States at $50. With a population of thirty millions, this would take the enormous sum of one billion five hundred millions of dollars to be spent in dress. This is a little larger sum than would be required, even under the most extravagant fashions yet reached. The average cost for every man, woman, and child, in the country, probably, is not half the sum stated, which would still take an enormous amount of money to clothe the population. Adam certainly never contemplated the ultimate cost of clothing the world, when he commenced setting the fashion of dress, by using the primitive apron of fig. leaf. The vegetable and animal creations have since been plundered to find materials to adorn the person.

"A

THE

Lutheran Home Journal.

JULY, 1857.

REFLECTIONS AT SEA.

BY REV. DANIEL GARVER.

LIFE on the ocean's wave,

And a home on the rolling deep," &c., does well enough for a song, but give me rather

"A hut on the mountain's side,

A cot on the prairie wide,"

with a tried friend, who will ease the pains and smooth the asperities of life. The ocean is a continually raging, foaming monster, swallowing his thousands every year, and yet never satisfied; continually feasting, yet never fed. He tries indeed to atone for his voracity by bearing on his bosom the commerce of the world; but his exchange is unequal, for he takes life and gives only gold. As God can make "the wrath of man praise Him," so He can make the fury of the tempest and the madness of the sea "work together for good to them that love Him." Old Ocean may be pardoned for his cruelty, inasmuch as his winds are wafting and his waves are rolling to every tribe and tongue, to every isle and nation, the glad tidings of salvation through Christ crucified. In these last days, we seem to see the ends of the earth coming together, and the gradual dawning of that day when nations shall be as peaceable families, and all men shall recognize and love each other as brethren.

Leaving New York on the 27th of May, about noon, the noble British screw steamship "Queen of the South" rapidly sped down the bay, and ere the curtains of night had

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closed round us, we were out upon the deep blue sea, and " my native land," the "sweet land of liberty," had sunk below the horizon. Onward moved our glorious "Queen," eager to run her course of 3500 miles ere she would stop to breathe. This was my first essay to cross the pathless ocean. Long and fondly had I looked forward to this time, when I might visit the Old World, and stand where stood and fought, and labored and died, the giants and mighty men of former times, who have finished their course and received their crown. Am I really on my way to the East-the land of the fathers, or is it only a dream? Surely I do not dream, for I see the wilderness of waters round me. The land has apparently all sunk beneath the waves, and for a fortnight my vision shall not be delighted with tree, or shrub, or flower. Suddenly my thoughts leave the ship, and my spirit is back in America, living over days that are past but not forgotten. Thus I revelled, thus I communed with myself and the images of those most dear to me, as I sat quietly in our splendid cabin or strolled upon deck, luxuriating in the pure fresh air of the open sea. Thus, with mind filled with some sad and many strange and pleasing thoughts, I at length retired to my little room of 7 feet square, occupied by three of us, to spend the night in my bed 18 inches wide. In the morning I was sea-sick, and sea-sickness must be experienced to be appreciated. It is a feeling very much like that which a man has who has just smoked his first cigar, only a great deal more so. (I smoked when I

was eleven years of age; thank Providence, I am tall enough now without flourishing a cigar. But among the two hundred men and boys on this ship, I doubt whether there are more than a dozen non-smokers. The two Jesuits among us can smoke and drink wine, of which they keep a good supply on hand, with any other two of our company. This sore affliction kept me abed the whole of my first day at sea. All attempts to leave my berth were met with the most violent resistance.

"The whole head was sick," and seemed a useless appendage; the stomach had become most provokingly insolent, and would retain no deposits whatever that were made in it-it was restless as the sea. Thus, my body, horizontalized, was as unsettled as the needle of the mariner's compass. During this day strange visions passed through my brain-once it seemed as though we were just entering the principal street of a populous city, which on subsequent reflection, I thought not so strange after all, for were the thousands that are buried in the deep to arise, what a mighty city may they not people! The second day my sickness had almost left me, and the third I was perfectly well, whilst many around were in agony for days. Upon some the monster did not lay his hand at all.

MOTHER CAREY'S CHICKENS.

On the morning of the third day after leaving New York, my attention was attracted to a flock of beautiful little birds following the ship. Coming down from deck, I seated myself at one of the rear windows of the cabin and carefully watched their movements, wondering where they might have their resting-place, as we were more than 600 miles from land. They glided along over the waves as though they were utter strangers to fatigue. Learning that they are the birds called "Mother Carey's chickens," increased my interest in the homeless creatures. They are about double the size of the swallow, and resemble that bird very much in their movements, but have not the pointed wing and forked tail of the swallow. They seemed to me of a mouse-color, with a light spot on the wing.

As I was watching them the rain was fall

ing in torrents. I think I never saw it rain faster. Their number increased until there were two or three dozen. How long will they follow us, thought I? Will they go with us across the pathless deep? Thus they seemed like guardian angels hovering round us, volunteering to escort us across the raging sea. Again, they appeared like the prayers and good wishes of friends in America, following after us, and surely they will not leave us until they see us landed beyond the Ocean. With exquisite delight did I view and watch our new companions, as they skimmed the waves in pursuit of us. But suddenly some offal was cast from the ship; the birds, that had so interested me, gathered round it, and lagged behind. I looked after them eagerly, but they were soon lost in the distance, and I found they had forsaken us, and, as their appetite was now satisfied, they would not follow us farther. I saw in the conduct of these birds the same spirit of selfishness that actuates the mass of mankind. I had given them credit for more than they deserved. Alas, how little disinterested kindness we find in the world! How many of the professed attachments of life are mere subterfuges for the greedy snatching up of sordid gain. How many forsake a tried friend for the sake of a dollar or a dinner. Their God is their appetite.

A few days afterwards, others of "Mother Carey's chickens" were after us, but I felt not that same attachment to them which I felt at first. They had deceived me. How sore is the wound in the heart made by a treacherous friend. David well understood this feeling, and most graphically described it in Ps. 55: 12, 14, "May God rather bless me with avowed enemies than curse me with false friends."

Steamer "QUEEN OF THE SOUTH," 12 days at sea, 400 miles from England, June 8, 1857.

ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT.
A BABY on a sick bed lay-
A baby sweet and fair;

A troop of angels in their way,
Beheld the sufferer there.

They paused and whispered, "Wilt thou go,
With wings like ours to guide,

A voyage back with us ?" When lo !
The baby smiled and died.

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