5. Religion bids you give the world a the air with music, flowers may load it good example. It has been said that with perfume, the sun may surpass himninety-nine victims in a hundred acquire self in the beauty of his brightness; this habit from infectious example. Be but you cannot enjoy the one or the other this as it may, the example of men in very much, nor God, their glorious your position is unspeakably powerful author, till you have appeased a giant and pernicious. It has power to sweep appetite, which has dominion over you. multitudes of young men down to death." Be not deceived," my brother. Think "Father," said a little boy, "why do not that you love God with all your you chew tobacco ?" "Because I love heart when this idol has such supremacy it," was the reply. The son chewed it, in your soul. Talk not of aspirations learned to love it, and thus ruined his "for holiness," "full assurance," and health, and embittered his whole life "sanctification," whilst a slave to this peculiar lust, or whilst your piety is so much raised or depressed by the narcotic power of this deceptive drug. Break, my brother, from such "bonds of iniquity." "Take hold CHRISTIAN-LIKE, and help us to wake the Church, and wake the Nation, to this great and fearful evil. GEORGE TRASK, Fitchburg, Mass., 1856.

with disease. I saw a little boy, with a cigar, puffing like a steam engine. "Why do you smoke?" I enquired. "Father smokes, and I'll smoke, sir," was the reply. The cry on every hand is, "Cure fathers, cure church-members, cure men of influence; when they drop it, we will 'follow suit.""

6. Religion bids you to be a thorough temperance man. Rum and Tobacco are twin demons. Tobacco creates an unnatural appetite, which craves alcoholic stimulants, and the gratification of this appetite leads to drunkenness. Smokeshops and dram shops, sots on Rum and sots on Tobacco, have usually been identical; and Temperance can never triumph whilst Tobacco intoxicates the million. Come, my brother! no longer declaim against Alcohol whilst a slave to Tobacco; no longer make yourself the song of the drunkard by intoxication on your quid or pipe.

7. Religion bids you to be pure and Christ-like. To use Tobacco is defiling, is demoralizing; it is a heathenish abomination, and you cannot respect yourself $3,873.22. Or, you pay twelve cents a as its victim. Do you think you please | day-this amounts to $6,746.44.

Reader, you pay, for example, six cents a day for cigars. Continuing this forty years, with interest, amounts to

Christ by using it? Do you think Christ would have allowed John to lean on his bosom, had he used it? Do you think the apostles used it? Are you willing this should be written on your gravestone: "Here lies a Christian who cut short his life by the use of Tobacco"? Is this epitaph becoming for a Christian?

Says Professor Fowler: "A young man from wished to purchase books on Physiology and Health, but said that he was not really able. I asked him about his habits-if he chewed? No. Do you smoke? Yes. How much? He said that formerly he smoked fourteen cigars a day, at about two cents for each, which made over eighty dollars per year, but that his health was so much deranged that he had reduced his allowance to seven. I told him this cost

Amount and Cost of Tobacco.

It is well for the common peace that the enormous tax paid for this article is self-imposed. If its victims were compelled to use it, and pay for it, the world would be filled with rebellion forthwith.

Many a young man in fashionable life pays more for this than for his boardbill. Many a mechanic will die and leave his family without a cent, who pays more for this than the cost of a Life Assurance of Two Thousand Dollars.

8. Religion bids you to be entirely devoted to God. The use of this pernicious drug forbids this. If you used it early, and have used it long, it has be-him forty dollars per year, which he excome with you the KING OF APPETITES. pended not only uselessly, but in those You love it better than honey, or milk, things that tended to shorten life as well or bread, or wine, or the choicest fruits. as to destroy his usefulness while he It is usually the last thing which engages | lived." your heart at night, and it is among the first things which claim your fond regards in the morning. Birds may fill

Says Dr. Alcott: "I have known many a poor family that consumed, in smoking and chewing, at least twenty-five cents a

week. This, in forty years, would a-, at 4,000,000,000 pounds! This is smoked mount to $520; or, if placed at com-chewed and snuffed. Suppose it all pound interest, from year to year, to made into cigars, one hundred to the more than $2,100." pound, it would produce 400,000,000,000. Four hundred billions of cigars!

NOTES ON NEW BOOKS.

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11

OLD times and old things, like old men, deserve reverence and honor, if they be found in the way of wisdom. The law commands, "Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honor the face of the old man;' something of the same respect is due to any thing old, provided it is good and has done good.

This all feel. There are many beautiful instances where persons even kept, protected and fed, old beasts of burden, long after they had become disabled and useless, respecting them, as they say, for the good they have done. We all know with what respect old family Bibles are cherished, and handed down from generation to generation as priceless relics. The same respect is awarded to old family fruit, or shade trees. They must rot away, for no one dares to lay his axe to the root, as long as one twig is green in the spring. But lately, at an old homestead in the country, an old man showed us an old pear tree, which his father had planted more than a century ago; it is far gone, and is only able to manifest its feeble and flickering life in a few green scions every Spring, but he would not sell it, or suffer it to be cut down, for the best acre of ground in the land. It has gained its possession right, according to law, more than five times over

"And wouldst thou hack it down!".

This reminds us of an instance of a similar kind, which the muse of George P. Morris, Esq., has long since embalmed in a never-dying Poem.

He was riding out of New York one day in company with a friend, who was once heir of a large estate, but whose worldly prospects had lately been overtaken with a blight. When they arrived at a certain place in the country his friend asked him to turn down a romantic lane. Mr. Morris asked him his object. "Merely to look once more at an old tree planted by my grand-father, near a cottage that was once my

father's."

"It is yours then ?" said Mr. Morris. "No my poor mother sold it." His lips quivered, and his eyes were growing moist as he added, "Dear mother! we passed many happy, happy days, in that old cottage; but it is nothing to me now-father, mother, sisters, cottage— all, all, gone." By this time they were in sight of the venerable tree, and behold!" near the tree stood an old man with his coat off, sharpening his axe!"

A conversation ensued between the man whose youthful associations were bound up in that tree, and the old man of the axe. The one argued from the interest his own heart had in a tree planted by his grand-father, the other argued the interest which he had in ten dollars worth of firewood! Mr. Morris gives, in touching language, the plea and remonstrance of his friend with the unfeeling and mercenary man of the axe!

So he pleaded for the tree. But had just about as much effect upon the old Woodman as the recollection of the Saviour's kindness had upon Judas. He ceased not whetting his axe, and casting greedy glances at the tree, until some silvery arguments were used. This prevailed. When he heard "that money should be given unto him," even ten dollar-pieces of silver, he straightway laid down his axe, and entered into a bond that he would "spare that tree."

This incident, the tenderness of which none whose feelings are not entirely sordid and earthly, can fail to feel, illustrates the beauty of those associations which cling, strong as life, around those objects hallowed