Chicago Daily Tribune Newspaper, February 15, 1874, Page 10

THE CHICAGO :DAILY TRIBUNE: SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 1874. .10 _—- why an attempt to claim for these books adivino | that was formerly - considered ss es- | & position for herself; but how most of them THE BOSTON L‘Bq ARY B . RELIGIONS. “Max Mueller’s Lecture in Westminster ‘Abbey. The Xon-Missionary Religions: Judaism, Brahmanism, and Zoroastriauism. The Missiohary Religions : Buddhism, tAohammedanism, and Chris- tianity. The Decisive Battle for the Dominion of the World to Bo Fought Be- tween the Latter. “True Christianity Lives, Not in Our Be= lief, but in Our Love.” Prof, Max Mueller's recent lecture in West~ minster Abbey, which has creatéd such & pro- Tounad eensation in England, is reprinted in full by the Boston Indez from a pampliet-edition of the lecture farnished by the suthor to that pa- per. Iiis as follows: The number of religions which have aitained stability and permanence in the history of the world i verysmall. If we leave outof con- sidetation thoso ¥ague and varying forms of faith apd worsbip whick wo find smong un- civilized and unsettled races, among races ig- norant of reading and writing, who have neither u litersture, nor laws, mor even hymnsand prayers handed down byoral tesching from father to son, from mother to daughter, w2 geo that the number of the real historical religions of mankind amounts to no more than eight. The Samitic races have produced three—the Jewish, the Christian, the Mobammedan; the Aryan, oF Indo-European races, sn edusl number—the Brahiman, the Buddhist, and the Parsi. Add to these the two religions systems of China, that of Confucius and Lao-tee, and you heve before you what may be called the cight distinct languages or utterances of the faith of mankind from the boginuing of tho world (o tho prosent day 3, you bave kefore you in brosd outlines the relijious map of the whole world. COMPARATIVE ETCDY' OF BELIGIONE. All these religions, however, have a history, & history mare deeply interesting than the history of language, of literature, of arts, of politics. Religions are not unchangesble; on the contrary, they are always growing And changing; and if they ceaso o grow and cease tochange, they ceasa to live. Some of. thase religions stand by tliemealves, totally independent of all the rest ; others are closely united, or have influenced each other during the various stages of their growth aad decsy. They must thorefore be stndied to- gether, if we wish to understand their real char- acter, their growth, their doeay, and their resus- citations. 'Thus, Mohammedanism would bo unintelligible without Christianity; Christianity without Judaism ; and there sre similar bouds ihat hold together the grest religions of India ‘and Persin—the faith of the Brehman, the Bud- dinet, and the Parsi. After a careful study of the origin ind growth of theso religions, and .after & crilitical examination of the sacred ‘books on which sl of them profess to be found- €d, it becomes poesible to subject thém ell to a scientific classification, in the samo menner na languages, apparentls uncotnected and mubually unintetligible, have been ecientifically arranged s0d classificd ; and by a_compatisas of thoso points, which &ll or somo of thom share in com- mon, aa well aa by a determination of thoss ‘which_sre peculiar to each, & new science has ‘been called intd life, & scienco which concerns us all, aud in which all wha truly care for re- Tigion must sooner or later take their pari—the science of relifion. XDX-MISSIDNARY RELIGIO: Among tha vhrious classifisations which ‘been applied to the religiord of the worid, there i8 ono thet intorests us more immediately, to- night, Tmoan the division into non-missiobary aud miasiobary religions. — This is by no means ‘ps might be suppozed, a_cleseification based on an ummportant or merely accidental characteris- tic ; on thio contrary, it rests on what is the very héart-blood in every eysicm of humen fsith. _Among the six religions of the Aryan and Semi- tic world, thero are threo that are o’!lposcd to all missionary onterprise—Judaism, Drahmenism. and Zoronstrianisot 3 and three that have a mis- gionary character from their ¥ery beginning— Buddhism, Mohammedanism, and~Christiapity. JUDAISM. . Th Jaws, particularly in ancient fimes, pever thought of spreading their religion, Their ro- ligion wad to them a tremsure, & priviiege, & blessing, something to distinguish them, ns the thogen people of God, from all the rest of the world, A Jew must bo of tho seed of Abrabam ; * und when in later times, owing chiefly to politi- +al circumstances, the Jews hsd to admit - strangers to some.of the privileges of their tho- Jeracy, they Jooked upon them, not as gouls that {1ad been gained, saved, born again into p new brotherhood, but as_ sirangers, a8 proselyles; which means men who hate come to themns aliens, not t6 be trusted, 48 their saying was, until the twenty-fourih generation, F BRAMMANISM. 2 A'very similar fecling provented the Brahmans Trom ever attempting Lo proseiytize those who 2id not by birth belong to the spiritual aristéera- o¥ of their country. Their wish wss rather to &eep the light to themselves, to repel intruders; they went 50 far as to punish those who hap. peted to be near enough to hear ovén the sound of thelr praybrs, or to withess their sacrifices. ZOROASTRIANISM. : The Parsi, too, does not wish for converts to bis religion; he is prond of his faith, as of his blood ; and though he believes in thofinal victory ‘of trath and light, though bo says to eve map, * Be bright as tho sun, pliro a8 the mioon,” *he hifnBel? ddes very little to drivo away spirit- uel darkness from the fsce of the earth, by letting the light that is within him shine before the world. MTESIONARY RELIGIONS. But now let s look it the other cluster of re- fizions, at Buddhiem, Mohamniedanism, sud Christianity. However they may differ from each other in soide of their most esseusial doc- trines, this they share in eommon—ihey all have ith jo themeélves, they all have life aud vigor, they want 80 cohviuce, they tesn to conquer. From the very earliest dawn of thefr existence these throe religions weré missionary ; their very founders, of their first apostles, recognized the new duty of Epreading the truth, of refuting “error, of bringibg the Whole world to scknowl- edge the paramount, if not tho divine, suthority of their doctrines. That is what gives to thiem with men, they would not frighten me away." And when be bad brought the people to listen, ho dismissed them with tho simple prayer, ** Do ot hereafter give way to pride and snger'; cate for the happiness of all living beings,and abstain from violence. Estend your good-will to all mankind ; let there be peace among the dwellors on earth.”. No doubt, ths accounts of the successes achieved by thoso early missionaries are exng- gernted, and their fights with sonkes and drag- ous aod evil spirits remind us sometimes of the legendary accounts of the achievements of such men a8 St. Patrick in Irelsud, or St. Boniface in Germany. But the fact that missionaries were sent out to convert the world Beems beyond the reach of doubt ; and this fact represents to us at that time a new thought, new, oot only in the Distory of Jndn::(, but in the history of tho whole world. The recognition of a dutyto preach the truth to every man, woman, and child, was an idea opposed to tho deepost in- stinets of Brahmaniam 3 and when, at the end of the chapter.on “the first missions, we read the simple words of the old chronicler, *Who would demur, if the salvation of the world is at stake 2" wo feel at onco that wo move in a new world, we sce the dawn of a new day, the open- ing of vaster horizons,—wo feel, for tho firat titme in the Listory of the world, tho beating of the great heart of humanity. MONAMMEDANISY. The Koran bréathes a different spirit; it does not invite, it rather compels, tbe world to come in. Yet thero aro passages, particularly n the earlier portions, which show that Mohammed, too, hod realized tho idea of humanity, snd of & reliion of humanity; nay, that at first ho wishod to unite his own religion with that of the Jews and Caristians, comprebending sll under tbe common namo of Jslam. Islam meant originally humilily or devotion; and all who humbled themselves befors God, snd wero filled with real reverence, were called Moslim. “Tho Islam,” eays Mohammed, ‘‘is the truo worship of God. When men dispute with you, say, ‘I ama Mos- lim. Ask thoso who have sacred books, and sk the heathen: ‘Aro you Moslim 7" If they are, thoy are on tho right path; butif they turn away, then you have to other task but to "uh\'ur tho ressago, to preach to them the Islam. CRRISTIANITY. . As to our own religion, its very soul is mis- sionary, progressive, world-embracing ; it would cease to exist if it ceased to be missionary—if it Gisrogardod tho parting words of its Founder : “'Go ye therefore and teach all nations, bn})hz- inig them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost ; teaching them to bserse all thiugs I have commanded ; aud, 1o, I am with you alwsy, even unto thsend of tho world.” 1t is this missionary character peculiar to these three relisions, Buddhism, Mohsmmedanism,and Christianity, which binds them togother, and Iifts them to & higher sphore. Their differences, 0 doubt, are great; oo eome poinis they aro opposed {0 each: other like dsy and night. But they conld not be what they are ; they could not hove achioved what they havo achioved, unless the spirit of truthand tho spiritof love had been alive in the hearts of their founders, their first messengers and missionaries. _ THE PATE O NOK-MISSIONARY RELIGION. And now, let s look again at the religions in which the ‘missionary spirit has bson at work, and compore them with those in which any at- tempt to convince: others by argument, to save sonls, to bear witness to the truth, is treated with pity or scorn. - The former are alive, the latter are dying or dead. . A ZOROASTRIANISY. . The religion_of Zoroaster,—~the religicn of Cyrus, of Darins, snd Xerxes—which, but for the battles of Marathon and Sulamis, might Tavo becomo the religion of the civilized world, i8 now profeased by only 100,000 souls—that is, by -sbout 3.ten-thonsandth part of the in- Labitants of the world. During tho lust two ceuturies their number has steadily decreased from 400,000 to 100,000, and avGther con- tury will probably exbiaust what 15 still left of the worshipers of the Wise Spiit, Aburamszds. JTDAIEM. The Jews are abont thirty times the number of tha Parwis, and thoy thereforo_represont s more sppreciative portion of maukind, Though 1t is not likely thas they will ever increase in number, vet suchis their plysical vigor zbd therr intel- Tectual teuncity, such also their pride of raze and their faitd m Jehovab, ths 3 hardly ivo that their patrinrchal religidh eud their eh- ciont customs will 6oon vanisi from tho faca of the eurtls. DRAMIMARISM. But thongk ‘b reliions of the Parsis and le ponulsy t wiil be i xegard to g ¥ 1gal 1 #lill professed by at least 119,000,080 of luwmzn conlé, and, to Judge from tho last ceun even that enormous numbor falls much { ghort of the real truth. And yet I do not " shrink from saping thot thefr feligion s Gying ordesd. And why? Dacauve it cannct sland the ‘light of daf. The worship of Kive, of Visbnu, and the other popular deities, i3 of the same, nay, in many cases of a moro degindes snd savage chargeter thoh_ tho worsitip of ter, Apollo, and Minerva; it bolangs to tratim of 'thougnt which i8 long buried beneath our fact; it may live on, like the lion and ibe tiger, but the mere air of free thought and civilized life will extinguist it. A religion may linger on fora long timp, it mey beaccepted by the large misdses of tho poople, because it is thero, and there is pothing botter. Dut whena religion bas ceasod to produca defenders of the faith rophets, champions, martyrs, it has coased to ive; and in -this sense Brahmaoism hos ceased to live for more than a thousand years. . It is.true there are millions of - children; women, and men ia India who fall down before the stonc image of VieMng, with his four arms, riding on & creature haif bird, hal{ man, or slecping on the erpent; who worship Sive, a monster with three eyes, riding naked on b bull, with & necklace of skalls for his ornament. There are human beinga who still believe in a god of war, Kartikeya, with six faces, riding on 2 peacock, and holding bow and arrow in his hands; and who invokea god of success, Ganesa, with four hands and an elophant’s head, sitting onarat. Nay, itis trtio that, in the broad day- Jight of the ninetecnth century, ibe figure of the goddess Kali is carried through the streets of her own city, Calcutta, her wild digheveled hair renching fo her feet, with a necklace of human heads, her tongue protruded from her ‘mouth, het girdlo stained with blood. Al thisis true; but ask any Hindu, who can read and writo 4ud think, whetlier those aro the gods hw be- Tioves in, and ho will smils at your credulity. How long this living death of natioual relizion in India may last, 5o ono can tell ; for our pur< poses, howsver, for -gaining an ides of ths issuo of the great religious sttuggle of the future, that seligion too is dead aud gono. TOE TAREE LIVING RELIGIORS. The three religions which aro alive, and be- tween which the decisive battle for the dominion of tho world will have to be fought, are the threo missiohary religions, Buddhism, Mobammicdan~ ism, and Christianity. Though religious statis- tics'tre perhaps the most uncortafn of all, et it is well to hiavo a gencral conception of the forces of our enemies; and itis well to know that, though the number of Christians is double tho number of Mohummedans, the Buddbist religion still occupies the first place in the religious cen- &ms of munkind. Buddhism rales supreme in Central, Northern, Essern, and Soutbern Aeia, aud it gradually absorbs’ whalever there is loft of aborigmal leathenism in that vast and populous atea. Mohommedanism claims 2s1ts vsn Arabis, Persio, great parts of India, Asia Minor, Tutkey, 211 a cointuon expreasion, snd lifts them high above the level of the othef religions of the world. BUDDIISY. ) Lét s bezin with Buddhism. We lmov, in- deed, vety little of its origin aud earliest prowth, for the earliest beginnings of all religions with- draw theémselves by necessity from the. eye of tha historinp. But wo have soniething like con- temporary evidénce of the Great Council, kaldat Pataliputra, 246 B. C., in which thie sacred canon of the Buddhist scriptures was settled, and at “tho énd of which misionaries wers chosen and sent forth to preach the new dovtrine, not only 1 Iadis, but far boyond tho frontiersof thatvast country, Wo poesess itscriptions containing the edicts of the King who was to Buddhigm what Cougtantine was to Christianity, who broke with thie traditions of the old religion of the Brah- ‘mans, and recognized the doctrines of Buddha ad tho State religion of Indis. We possess tbo doacrintion o that Buddbist Conacil, which was “io Indisa what the Council of Nicwa, 570 years later, was to Europe; aud we can still read there the simple’ story, how the Chicf Elder, who had - presided over the Cogneil, &n old man, too weak £0 travel by land, and carried from his hermitsgo to the Council in & bost—how that wmah, when the Council was dver, began to reflect on the fu- ture, 2nd found that the time had coms to estab- lish the raligion of Buddha in foreign countries. He_ thereforo dispatched some of the most eminent priests to Cashmero, Cabul, and far- ther west, to ihe colonies found: by tho Greeks in Pactris, to Alexandria on tho Caucasus, snd other cities. He sent others northward to Nepanl, and fo the inhabited portions of the Himalsyan Mountains. Another ‘mission proceeded to_the Dekhan, to the people of Mysore, to the Mahrattas, perhispsto Goa; nay, even Birms and_Coylon are mentioned a3 amiong the easliest misslonary ststions of Dudd- and Egypt ; and its greatest conguests by mis- slonary eforts are modo smong tho heathen popalation of Africa. Christianity reigns in Europs and Americs, apd it is conquering the nativa races of Poly- nesia and Melanesia, while its missionary out- posts are seattered al) over the world. *Between these three powers, thon. the relig- ious battle of the futuro, tho Holy War of man- Lind, will have to be fought, and is being fought ant the present moment, though spparently with little effect. To convert a Mlohammedan is dif- ficults to convert a Buddhist, moro difficult still ; to convert a Christian, -let s hope, well nigh “impossible. i OBJECTS OF MSSIONS. What, then, it_may be asked is tho tiss of misgionaries 2 Why should we spend millions on foreign miséions when thera are children in our citica who aro allowad to_ grow up int igno- rance? Why ehould wo deprive ourselves of Foms of the noblest, boldest, most srdent and devoted epirits, and send them into the wilder- neks, while s0 many laborers sre wanted in the ineyard at home ? X Y573 right to ask theso questions; and we .ought not to blamo those political cconomists who tell us that every convert costs us £200, and that at the present rate of progress it would take more than 200,000 yéars to evangelize tho world. Thereis nothing at all startling in theso fgures. Every child born in Europe is as miich A liesthén aa tho child of a Mélancsian ean- nibal ; and it costs his mora than £200 to turn a child 'into & Chistian man. Tho other cal- calation is totally erroneons; for an intellec- tual harvest must not bo_calculated by, sdding simply grain to grain, but by connting each grain a8 & living seed, that will bring forth *fruit & hundred and & thonsand fold. . PATERNAY MISSIONS, < I we want fo know what York there is for the i ienis. Wastill possess sccounts of their :’:fi&;”i;“ pxmging. hen threatened by in- Funated erowds, one of ‘thode Buddhist mission-, aries £aid chlmly, ** Even if the gods were united | ' missionary to do, what resultd wa may expect from it, we must distincuish between two knds of otk = the oud s navental tha othar cnblra tersial. Among uncivilized races the work of the missionary {8 the work of a parent ; whether his pupils are yoang in yoars or old, he bas to treat them with a parent’s love, to teach them with a parent's suthority; he Las to win them, not to argne with them. I know this kind of missionary worl is often despised ; it is called mers religious kidoapping ; and it is said that missionary success obtainod by such means prove nothing for ths truth of Christianity ; thot the child banded over to 8 Mohammedan would grow up o Monammedan,'as much as a child taken by a Ohristian missionaty becomes ‘a- Christian. All this is true ; missionary Bucoess obtaibed by ench means proves nothing for the truth of our creeds ; but it proves—what is far more {mportsnt—Christisn love. Read only the “Lile of Patteson,” the Bishop™ of Melanesla ; follow him 1o his veseel, Bailing from islsud to island, -beg- ing for children, carrying thom off as s _mothor fiur new-born child, nu.l‘sm%thnm‘ washing aud combing th clothing them, foeding them, teaching them in his Episcopal Palace, in which ho himself is everything, nurse and_housemaid, and cook, schoolmaster, physician, dnd Bishop— read thero how that man who tore himself away from bis aged father, from bis friends, from bis favorite studies and pursuits, had the most lov- ing of hearts for these children,~how indig- nently ho repelled for them the namo of sav- ages, bowr lo trusted them, respected them, Lonorod them, and, when they were formed and ostsblished, took them back to their island homes, there to be' a_ leaven for future ages. Yes, read, the 1fe, the work, thodeath of that man, a desth in verv truth, » ransom for the sins of others—and then ssy whether you_would like to suppress a profession that can call forth such self-denial, such heroism, such sanctity, such love. It has been my privilego to hayo known some of the finest and_noblest epirits which England has produced during this ceptury, but there is none to whose memory I look up with greater rovor- ence, none of whoso friendship I feel more dacply bumbled, than by that of that truo saint, that true martyr, that traly parental misstonary. Tho work of the parental missionary is clear, and its success undeniable, not ouly in Polynesis and Molanesia, but in nusny parts of India (think only of tho bright light of Tinnovally), in Africa, in Chins, in America, in Syris, in Turkoy, aye, in the very heart of London. i CONTROVERSIAL 3{IBSIONS. The caso is_differont with tho controversial missionary, who liaa to_sttack tho faith of men Drought up in othor roligions, in religions which contain much truth, though mixed up with muek orror. Hero the dificuliies are im- menso, tho results very discouraging. Nor neced wo wonder at this, We kuow, each of us, but too well, Low Litle argument’ avails in theological discussion ; how often it produces tho very opposite result of what we oxpected confirming rather than shaking opinions no less arroneous, no less indofensible, than many articles of the Mohammedan or Buddhist Iaith, ‘And even when srgument proves succossful, when it forces 5 verdict from an wawilling judge, how ofien bos the result been dissppointiug; Decauso in tearing up the rotten stem on which tho treg resf its tenderest fibres liave boon injured, its roots unsettled, its lifo desiroyed. We have littlo ground toexpect that theso con- troversial weapona will carry the day in ihe Bérulggle betweon the three great religions of tho world. : INDIRECT INFLUENCE OF CIIUSTIANITY. But there is s third kind of misgionary activity, which has produced the most importaut resuits, sud through which alono, I beliove,” the fin victory will be gained. Wheneyer two religions aro broaght iuto contact, when metnbers of each livo togetlier in peace, sbstaiving from all dircct attempis nt conversion, whether by foreé or by argument, though conscions all the time of the fact thut thoy and their religion are on their trinl, and they aso being watched, that they are responsible for all they say and do, the effuct has always been the grentest blessing to both. It calls ouball the best clements in each, 2ad ut tho same time keeps under all that is felt boof doubtial value, of uncertain truth. Whenever this has happened in tho Listory of the votll, ic has generally led either to tho re- form of both kystems, or 16 the fonndation of a NISM QN DRAIDIAN] jost of Tndin, the' vio- 5 for the conversiow of the Mobommedanism - bul ceasod, aad Drobmans | lived of . pecfect sad ctliological gods ; mib tlint thore wus, ecithor nTividual doitica, divine power (tha Para- sumed its most importact devel- opment =t tue bezinning of the twelith centwry, when Rawanage founded the re- formed scel of tbe worsbupers of Vishnu sud again, in tho fonrtseuth conturs, wlicn his fifth succossor, amsncnds, imparted 2 stili mote 1 1 charactor to that powerful sect. Notonly did lic abolich many . of the re- atrictions of caste, mauy of the minuts ceros mouicl observances in eating, driuking, snd VLathing, but ho roplaced the classical Sanserit— whicl was unintelligible to tho largo masses of the pooplo—by tho living vernaculars, in which he preachied & purer worsnip of God. mavement : KADIR. . . Tho most remstkable man of 'that time was 5 weavér, the pupil of Ramanands, koown by the name of . Kabi. He indeed deserved the name which tho ‘members of the reformed sect claimed for them- selves, Avadhuts, which menns one whohas shaken off the dust of suparstition. He broke entirely with tho popular mythology ;and the customs of the ceremonial law, and addressed himself alike to Hindu and Mobammedan. Ac- cording to him, there is but ono Gad, tho creat- orof the world; without boginning and end, of inconceivable purity, and irremsiblo strength. The puro manis the imageof God.sud niter death attains community with God. The com- mandments of Kabir arg few : Not to injure any- thing that has life, for lifc is of God; to speak the truth; tokesp aloof from the world ; to obey tho teacher. His poetry-is most beaui~ ful, hardly surpassod in any otlier language. NANAK, FOUNDER OF THE SIKU RELIGION. Still moro important in the history of Indis was the reform of Nanal, the founder of the Silh religion. He, 0o, wworked entirely. in the spirit of Kabir, . Both labored to perscads the indus and Mohammoduns that the truly es- sontial parta of their creeds were the same, that they ought to discard the varicties of praciical detail, and tho corruptions of their teachers, for the worhip of the One Only Supreme, whether be was termed Allah or Vishou. The effect of these religious reforms has boen highly beneficial ; it has cut iuto the very roots of idolatry. and has spread thronghout India an in- telligens and spiritual worship, whick may at any time develop into a higher national creed. JISFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY OX BRAIMAKIS)M. The samo cffect which Blohammedism pro- duced on Hindnism is now being produced in_a much higher degrea on the religious mind of In- dia by the mere preseuce of Christianity. ‘That silent influonce began to toll maty yenrs ago, oveh at o timo when no missionaries wore allow- ed within the terntory of the old East India Company. DA MOBUN OY AND THE BRATMA-SAMAT. Tts first representative wae Dam 3fohun Roy, borh just 100 years ago, in 1772, who died ab Bristol in 1834, the founder of the Brahms- Samaj. A man 80 highly cultivated and so high- Iy religious a8 ka'was could not but feel humil- inted ot the spectacle which the popular religion of his country presented tohis English fricnds. He drew thoir attention to the fact that there was a purer religionto be found in tho old sacréd wrilinzis of his people, the Vedas, He wont so far a5 to claim for tha Yedes & divine origin, and to attempt the foundation of a reformed faith on their antbority. In this attempt he failed. INSPIRATION OF THE VEDAS, No doubt the Vedss and other works of the ancient poots and prophets -of India contain trensures of truth which onght never to be for- gotten, lesst of all by tho song of Indin. Tho late good Bishop Cotton, in his address to tho students of s missionary institution at_Crlcatta, advised them t0 use 4 certain bymn of the Rig Veds in their daily prayers. Nowhere do wo find_ stronger arguments against idolatry, no- where has tho tnity of the Deity been upheld more strenuously against tho errors of polythe® ism than by some of the ancient sages of Indis. Even in in too oldest of thelr sacred books, the Rig-Veda, composed 3,000 or 4,000 years ngo,.— whero we find hymns' uddressed to tho differ- eot deities of tho sky, the air, tho earth, the rivers,—tho protost of the bLumav heart against many gods breaks forth from timoe totime with no_uncertain sound. One poet, after he bas asked to whom eacrifico is due, an- swers, ** To Him who is God abovo all gads.” Another poct, after enumerating the names of many deities, afirms, without hesitation,: thas * these aro all but the unames of Him who is One.” - And even when the single deities are in- vokbd, it is not diflicult to ges that, in the mind of the poet, each one of the names i3 meant to express the highest conception: of Deity of which the human mind was fien copa- ble. The god of the sky is called Fathsr and Mother and Friend; heis the Creator; tho Upholder of the Universe; he rewards virtuo and punislica sin; he listens to the prayers of thoso who love him. T wi R - Buot geanting all this: we may well understand origi, and thus make them an arlificial founda- tion for a new religion, failed. - DEBENDRANATI TAGORE. The sncceasor of Ram Mohan Roy, the present head of the Drahma-Samaj, the Wise znd ex- cellent, Dobendranath Tagore, was for a time - even . more - decided in - holding to the Vedas as the sole foundation of the new faith. But this could not Jast. As soon ®a the true character of the Vedas, which but fow. peopla in India can uaderstand, became known, partly through the efforts of native, partly of European scholars, {be Indian reform- ers rolingnished the clsim of divine inspiratio in favor of their Vedss, and were satisfied wit » selection of passages from the works of tho ancient sages of India, to express and embody the creed which the members of the Brahma- Samaj hold in common. The . work whickh these religions re- formers have been doing in Indis s ex- celloni, aud those oply who Lnow what it. is, in relizions mafters, to break with the past, to forsake the established custom of a nation, {0 oppoao the rush of public opinion, to brave adyorse oriticiam, to submit to social per- secution, can form any ides of what those men have puffered, in bearing witness to the truth that was within thom, BCIIEM IN THE DRATIMA-SAMAT. They conid not reckon on any sympathy on the part of Christian missionaries; nor did their work attract much aitention in Euvrope till very lately, when a schism broke out in the Brahma- Bamaj between the old conservative party and a new party, led by Keshub Chunder Son. XESIUE CHUNDER SEN. The former, though willing to sarrender -all that was clearly idolatrousin the ancient religion and customs of Indis, wished to retain all that might safely bo rotained; it did not wish to see the religion of Indis denstionalized. The other party, 1nspired and led by Kestub Chunder Sen, went furthor in their zeal for religious purity. All that smacked of the old lesven was to ba surrondered ; not only caste, but even that sacred cord—the religions ribbon which makes and marks the Brahman, which is to romind himat overy momont of his life, snd whataver work ha may be engaged in, of his God, of his ancestors, and of his children—eventhat wastobe abandon- od; and, instead of founding their ereed exclusive- 1y on the utterances of the ancient sages of their own country, all that was best in tho eacred books of the wholo world was aclected and formed into & new sacred Cade. "The echism between these two parties is decp- 1y to be deplored. Bat it is a sign of life. It tugurs_swocess rather than failure for the fa- ture. It is the same schism which 8t. Paul had to Lieal 1n the Church of Corinth, and be healed it with the words, so often misunderstood, Knowladge puffeth up, but charity edifieth.” RELATION OF MISSIONARIES TO THE DRATTMA-SAMAT, 1n tho eyes of our missionaries this roliglous toform in India bas not fourd much favor ; nor need wo wondor &t this. Their object is to trans- plant a full-grown tree. They do not dony the moral worth, the noble aspirations, the self-sac- rificing zeal of these native reformers ; bnt thoy fear that ell this will but increase their dangerons influence end reterd the Drogrosa of Christianity, by drawing somo of ths best minds of Indis, that might have been gainod over to our religlon, into & different carrent. They foel towards Keshub Chonder Ben ss Athanasius might have folt towsrds Uifllas, the Arian Bishop of the Goths ; and yet, what wonld havo bocome of Christienity in Europe but for those Gothic races, but for those Arian heretics, who wera considered more dangorous than down- right pagans 2 % BRAIMA-SAMAT A TRANSITION T0 & NEW CREED. If-we think of the future of India, and of the influence which that country bas always exercised on the Isst, the movement of raligiovs reform which is now going on appesrs to my mind the most momentons in this momentous century. I our missionitries fool - constrained to ropudiste it as theirown work, history will_be more justto them than they thomselves. And, if not as the work of Chtistian missionaries, it will bo recognized hercafter nu the work of those missionary Chrig~ tians who havo lived in India, as examples of & true Christian life, who kave approached tho ns- tives in a truly missionary spiiit, in a spirit of trath and 1 tho spirit of love ; whoso bright presenco hns thawed the ice, and bronght out bepeath it tho old soil, ready to blossom into vew life. Theso Indiap puritans are not sgninst Gs; for all the bighest pur- poses of life they ore with ms, and we, 1 trost, with them, What wonld the barly Christiaos have said to mon, ontside tho pale of - Chriatianity, who ppoke of Clrist, and his doctiine a3 soms of these Indian reformers 7 Would they have said to them, ‘* Unless you speak our language and tnink our thoughts, unless yon respect our Crecd and sign our Articles, we can have noth- i0g in common with you ¥ MISSIONARIES MUST NOT BEQUIRE TOO MUCH. O that Ciristians, and particularly miesion- aries, would lay to heart the wordsof a mis- sionary Bisbop | “I bave for yoars thought,” writes” Bishop Patteson, ** that we seok in our miasions o great deal too much to moke English Christisns, . . . Evidently tho hos- then man is not treated fairly, if we encumber onr mosssge with unneceswary requiremonts. ‘Fho ancions Church had its ‘selection of funda- mentals.’ . . . Abyonscan sce what mise takes wohave made in Indis, . . . Few men thiok thamselves icto the state of the Eastern mind.. . . . Weseek to denationalize those races, as far a3l canseo: whereas we ought surely to chango as little s possibly—only what is clearly incompatible with the simplest form of Cbristian teaching - and practice. do not mean that “we are ta compromise truth, . . . but do wenot overlny it & good denl with human traditions ?' BISHOP PATTESON AND BISHOP COTTOR. It ‘we had many such missionsries us Dishop Patteson nnd Biehop Cotton, .if Christiamty were not only prenched, but lived in that sprif, it would then prove itself whas it is—the relig- 100 of humsuity at large, lafge enough itself to take in all shades and diversitica of character aud mee. And more than that—if this troe missionary spirit, this spitit of truth and love, of forbear- anee, of trust, of toleration, of humility, were onte to kindle tho hearts of all those chivalrous ambassadors of Christ, the meesage of the Gos- pel which they bhave 1o deliver would theu be- como as great a blesging to tho giver as to the receiver. Even now, missionary-work unites, both ac homo and abroad, those who are widely separated by the barriers of theological secta. MISSIONARY WOBK A BOND OF UNION. I might do so far mora still. When we stand befors a common enémy, wo Boon forget oar own small fends. But why? Often, I foar, from motives of prudonce only and selfishuoss. Can we naot, then, if we stand in spirit before a common fricnd—can Wwo not, bafors the face of QGod, forget our small feuds, for very shame? If missionaries admit to their fold converts who can hardly understand the equivocal abstrac- tions of our creeds snd formulas, it it necessary to excluda- thoso who understsud them but too well to sobmit fho wings of their freo epirit fo such galling ohains? When we fry to think of the majesty of God, what ara all thoge formulas but the stam- merings of children, which only & loving father can intorpret and understand! " The fuudamen~ tals of our religion ara not in thess poor creeds ; true Christisnity lives, not in our belief, but in our love—in our love of Qod, and in our love of nan, founded on our love of God. TRUE CHRISTIANITY. ‘That i8 the whole Law and the Prophets; that is the religion to be preached to the whole world ; that is the Gospel which will eonquer all otber religions,—oven Baddhism and Mobammedan- ism,—which will win the hearts of ail men. * There can never be too much love, thongh tliere may be too mucl faith—particularly when it leads to the requiremont of exactly the same messure of faith in others, Let those who wish for the true success of missionary work learn to throw in of the sbuadance of their faith; let them learn to demand less from others than from themselves. That is the best offering, the most valuable contribution which they canmake to-dny to the missionary cause, Lot missionaries preach the Gospel again as it was prosched when 1t began the conquest of tho Koman Empire and the Gothio nations; when it had to struggle with - powers and principalities, with timo-honored re- liglons end triumphont philosophies, with pride of civilization and savagery of life—and yet came out - victorious. At that time con- version was not & question to ba settled by the acceptanco or rejection of certain formulas- or articles ; o simple prayer was often enough: ** God bs merciful to me a siuner.” TWO KINDS OF PAITIL Thera is one kind of faith that ravels in words, thero is snother that can hordly find uttersnce ; - the former i8 like riches that come to us by inheritanca; the latter is like the daily bread, which each of us has to win in the #weat of his brow. e cannot “expect tho former from new converta ; we onght not to expect it or exact it, for fear that it might lead to hypocrisy of suparstition. Tho mere be- lioving of miracles, the mere ropeating of for- mulas, requires no effort in converts brought up to believe in tho Parsnes of the Brahmans or the Buddhist Gatakas. Thoy find it mach easier to accept 8 legend than to love God, to repest s creed thari to forgive their enemied. In this respect they are exnctly liko ourselves. Let misgionaries remember that tho “Christinn faith athomeis po longer what it wus, and that it is impodsibls ‘'t6 hava ona creed to preah another {0 -preach &t howe. - ‘Muoh sential is now neglected: much thiat was form- erly noglected is now considered as essential. I think of the laity more thau of the clergy; but what would the clergy be without the lnity? There are many of our best men, men of the greatest power and nflucncs in literature, science, art, politics, ‘aye, even In the Ohurch itself, who afe no_ lopger Christian in the old 8ense 0f the word. Bome imagine they have coased to be Clristiaus nltogather, because thoy fecl that they cannot belicve as much 48 others profess to, bellave. We ‘cannot afford to lose these men, nor shall we lose them if we learn fo bo satisfied with what eatisfled Clrist and the Apostles, with what satiafles many a bard-working missionary. 1f Christianity Is to rotain its hold on_Europe and America, if it is to conquer in the Holy War of the future, it must throw off ita heavy armor, tho helmet of brags and the coat of mail, and face tho world like David, with his staff, his atones, and hig sling. Wa want less of creeds, but more of trist; less of ceremony, but more of work; less of solemnity, but more of genial honesty; less of doctrine, but miore of love. Thera is o faith, a8 small 88 & grain of mustard- sead, but that grain alone can move mountains, and more than that, it can move hearta. What- ever the world may say of us, of us of littls faith, Jot us remémber that there was Ode who accapted the offering of the poor widow. She throw jo but two mites, but that was all ehe had, oven all ber living. — WOMAN IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. ‘The feroines of the Great Writerse= A Genernl Lack of Strong Characters izatioms Wo form our opinion of & -nation from their {terature. Their modo of life, characteristics, and morality aro all mirrored in the works of their standara authors. "Of no people is this 8o true asof the English, They have not the fine art of the French: to conceal their defocts with brilliant sophistry. No Englishman could have written “Camille;™ he either gives us the grossness of ““‘The New Magdalen,” or the puri- ty of * Christie Johnson.” Anyone who can- ot cross the ocean has but to read Thackeray to have a mental image of tbo literary man, young swell, and old roue, Lord Steynes and Pen- dennises. We think of an Englishman in connection with ROAST BEEY AND MUTTON-CHOPS ; I alwaya imagino Pickwick eating and drinking until his jolly face iz all aglow with happiness. It Dickens had left the lunches and. dinners out of Lis booke, how hungry they would have been. Think of Betsey Prig and Sarah Gamp without their gin; or * the Temperance nights, ven they just laid a foundation o tea to put the spirits a-topon!” A bungry mancan resd Dickens with the same pleasure that & newsboy looks at tho pies in the baker's window, The great novelist wns fond of the good things of the table, snd disgusted Irving by his gormandizing. Thackeray don't depend upon eating and drinti- ing to give his books a relish; but his picture of Becky's breakfast is very tempting to a woman. Think of tho gentle Becky having Ler chocolate brought to her bed every morniog by her hus- band; Ob, immortal Thackeray! you did MORX FOB WOMAN by thiat little pictare than you injured her by all your slurs and sarcasms. But Becky was un- wrateful ; and, after she bad driven this model husband away, she was not as faatidions in her pabits; for, whon Jo_ BSedley called at her humble lodgiugs, she hid the brandy-bottle and dish of mest in tho bed. - ‘Thackeray says Btecle was the first English writer who spolke of women with respect, or thoaght they wero anything but dolls or 1diots. Quite an admission for the man who eaya him- solf they are all fools or devils ; but his admi- rotion of Steele discloses more faithin tie sex than ho professca. Afier all, his women ore a8 good as his men ; he takes off all tho glitter from human nature, and ouly the poor, shabby, every-day article is left. Euglishmon never draw BTEOXG OR INDEPENDENT UHARACTERS for their hercines. Perhaps they bave uod no model to copy from,—I hasten to ptitin beforo any otie ¢lso can say so. But genius should be capable of overlooking tho petty prejudices of tho time, and discovenng the possibilities of hu- man nature. Women Lave been advancing for the last two hundred years, and yet no English suthor, excepting Shakspeare, has anticipsted or acknowledzed tho fack, ‘but esch has always had his on ideal heroine.” Coleridge says Des- demona is just the Woman every man wishes for in a wife,~one whose wisdom is of the heart rather than tho hesd. It is strange men mever have anythlog to eay sbout what kind of s man will make the best husband ; they don't consider that of much importance. ‘Che wife has oply to think like Desdemona when she says, “De't as your fancies teach you. - Whate'er you be, J am obedient.” Charlotte Brontoe waa the first English novel- ist to draw an indopendent aud spirited beroine, INTELLECTUAL, BUT WOALANLY,— two traits an Evglishman had never combined. It must have been the creation of herawn brain, or what sho kne herself and others capable of, more than the representative English woman of the time. Justin McCarthy, who is always just, says: “The stateliest Oriental, the moat Htoicsl red Indian, could hardly be's miore im- assive creature thnn au average well-bred English woman.” They seem to have very littlo indlvtduality ; wo continually see the same faces in different dress. The young girls may bo coquettish, prit, or kittenish ; but the woman fs always the same. We think of Mrs. Bute Crawley, Mrs. Varden, aod Mrs, Mackenzie as the representative Brit- ish matron; always on the lookout for a good match for their properly-brought-up datghters. They don’s seem to hove the taste in dress or industry of tho American, but take life easy and grow fat, -which causes us fo suspect that tho rooms are Bometimes dusty and the mustress’ elivpers dowh &t the heel, like poor Mrs. Wragge's, S Walter Scott gives us Di Vernon and Jen- nfe Deans,—both strong, original characters. Thers aypears to be more independonco end origiuality about SCOTCH WOMEN than we ees in the English. Scott found mod- els for Jennie Deans aud Eilen Douglas anong his own Highlands; and Thackeray found Rosas and Ethols in London socloty. Bwift was _contemptuous and patronizing to women. Addison used shom asa cat's paw to display his wit ; he 8aw only their little follies, aud was blind to their good qualitios. Tops had & great deal of maudiin sentiment, but he was cold anl selfish, and, like all such men, had very little honest respect for women. Some writer has eaid, *8how me what & man reads, and I will tell you what kind of a mau he is.” But & better test would bo to know WUAT HE TUINKS OF WOMEN. Dickens Goes not give us any such heroines a8 Georgo Eliot; she pints them as thoy are, or ought to bo; but be, like all men, paints them as he likes fo have them. Dora and Belle are charming enough, aud Agmes s goody-goody; bus he burlesqued old women, n snecrs at virtue and intellect alike, Bhakepeare rises above the prejudices of thoage ; he does not, like other writers, contin- ually give us our ideal of womanly perfections. There are no two fomale characters alike in all his playa ; each has oy distinétive ‘s porsonslity aa tho male. We know this from the fack that 1o actress, however great hor genius, has been able to rise above mediocrity in more than two or three characters. Mrs. Siddons, who was so celebrated a8 Lady Macbeth, conld not see any- thing in Julict. Ono woman cannot_play both any more than the samo actor can be equally grest fn Hamlet and Macbeth. Portiais the first woman wo read of to appear in s court of justice, and she is mot described as less womanly for ko domng. Beatrice is rully the equal of Benedick; and Juliet is an indopendeut, 7 7 _ _ STRONG-ISDED GIRL she brings Romeo to terms whewshe says, If that thy beat of love be honorablo, thy purposo marriage, send mo word to-morrow, by one that T'll procure ta como to theo, whers, snd what time, thou wilt perform the rite.” Lady Mac- beth is the equal of her husband :intelloctually, with & clearer mind to dovise and s stronger will to execate her purposes; she is not so un- nerved by superstitious fears. Carlyle does not consider women of much ~ consequenco; hs would like - tho power of keeping ber ip, what he thinks, her place. But what does Carlyle like? Bulwer, who is cither bombastic or sentimental, slways has the old-fashionad haroine, animated dolis, subject to man’s gener- osity or villainy. It isa curious fact that & man either don't give woman credit for what she can do, or else ho gocs to the other extreme, and overrates her. The firatis the resnis of a nar- row mind snd prejudice ; the otheraf goherosi- ty and gallantry. The Englishman is the 3(0ST UNGALLART OF MEN, e bas not the good naturs of the German or the politenesa of the Frencls. A lady is not treatod with the respect and congideration in England she receives in_America: Thers is no sentiment about true Britons; s pretty face doesn’t melt thom, or & Jonely ona excite their compassion. Bharp wsa s grest favorite them after. shs hid won ! snubbed her while she was getting it! John Stuart Mill was fortunate in marying a ‘wife who was INTELLECTUALLY HIS EQUAL, one who assisted him in_all hia literary labors. So complete was this union of thought and writ- ing that he ways, * It is of little consequence, in respect to the question of originality, which of them holds tho pen.,” He "did not allow her genius to pase as his; he was 80 generous and uoselfish that he placed it above his own, Those who cannot understand such o man fry to belit- tle him for that which is the best proof of his true greainess. Woop Bpaxsox. —_— THE SOUTH-PARK RAILROAD QUESTION, To the Editor af The Chiicago Tribune: 8iz: In your article in last Sundsy's Thm- uSE, favoring railraads cromsing the South Parks, your argument, founded on the alleged inaccessibility of tka lske-shore branch thereof, is easily refated from the well-known fact that two prominent roads—the Illinois Central wnd Michigan Central—run ia close proximity along the whole west line of thia park, and on its en- tire east front {8 Lake Michigan for steamers. Honce the community at large have now what you 50 greatly desire: amplo moans of easy, convenient, and rapid translt to and from this park; -and said facilities are so abundsntly pro- vided for at present as to be Inexhsusgible, so far ag fulure genérations may require in that direction. Multiplication of routes of commu- nication so suparabundsut for present and fature uso cannot subserve {ne interests or rogaire- ments of the douth Side ploasura-grounde. Railroads desiring to reach the eity from that quarter can_vory well adopt the route west of and near the park. or pass still farther west, like tha Michigan Sonthern snd the Fort Wayne, leaving _the park-lauds intact snd undimin- ished, Let it be remembered that these lands were sclected for park-purposes by popular ver- diot, for the important reason that no railroad did or could traverse them, aud that, therefore, future throngs of visitors thereto might be se- cure in life and limb, and freo from ail appre- heneion from this source at all times and under oll circumstances. Who or wirosa family wonid feel safo rambling in those pleasure-grounds when plowed through, eser aua anow, by thun-~ dering traing, in charyo of careless cnginaers and reckless conductora? Grans the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad such a franchise, snd who can foreses the consequences and end of such sction? The Canada Bouthern, South Atlantic, and other roads secking Chicago from the South would make asimilar application, with s sinfilar result; and then adien to & *public park, for the recrea- tion, health, and benefic of the public, and freo to all persons forerer.” 1t is o noteworthy fact that not s single park of Chicago has o railroad running throngh it, and that each wos located where it is in view of such absence. . But, if any portion of the park- Iands can be approprinted for railroad purposes, what is to prevent a diversion of another portion for manufsctucing parposes, another for resi- dences, and g0 on? Surely, such grants are not what was bargained for when tho people voted to olect thewe grounds for park-purposes exclu- sively, and to tux themselves endlessly for their improvement and maintenance, and to burden property benefited to_tha amount of 3,000,000 for their purchase. Would such burdens have been volutarily assumed wero it even rupposed or imagined that these lands conld ever be de- spoiled or disrupted by railroad-tracks, bearing I;L\‘xgs {reight and stock trains of questionable ors i Fortupately for this and future gonerations, the South Park Board has no discretionary poser inthe premises,—cannot excrciso any preroga- tivo of this kind over the park-lands. The soveral park-acta clearly detine theis powers, and prescribe their duties most positively, as thus : * Which said land and premires, when acquired Dy said Commissioners, 25 provided by this act, shiall be held, managed, and controlled by them and their successors, as @ public park, for tho recreation, health, and benetit of the public, and {free to all persons forover, subject to such nec- essary rules and regulations as shall from time to time be adopred by said Commissioners sud their successors for the well-ordering and goy- ‘ernment of thesame.” *Said Board shall have the full and exclusive power to govern, manage, and direct anid park; tolay out and reguiate tho same; to pass ordinances for tha regulation and government thereof.” *‘And, generally, in ro- gard to eaid park, they shall possess all the power and suthority now by law conferred upan, or poeseased by, tha Comman Couacil of the City of Chicago in respect to the pablic squares aud places in eaid city,” &. Theso Comrmissioners are, thereforo, mere trusices of the public for the management of & public estato for n specitic purpose, and caa act only tn & fiduciary capacity. Holding the title of these park-lands s trustocs and ogents of and for_the public, for the kole objoct of & public park, thoy have, or can have, B0 power or right whatever even to coungider for & moment & proposition affesting tho integrity or jurisdiction of this estato,—mach less per- petuating an act of vandalism' aud usurpation, followed by swift removal for misdemeanor or malfensanco in oflice. G. W. MiLren, Curicago, Feb. 20, 1674 S e S THE OLD, OLD STGRY. T bade him gnod-bye, With n laughing eye, 1n & caroloss, girlish way ; But T turned asids In timo to bide The tear that was Lound to stray, Yes, T brushed it off With a joyous laugh ; Tt had fallen by im unecen : Yet he conld not but kuow, Erc he turned to go, What a foolisk girl T had beens He conld not but know Why I trembled 50 "eath the glanco of Lis dark-bluo cyo = ‘But back to my heart, From whence it would start, , Trepressed the rebel sigh. 1 hurricd along . Through a motley throrg : But my eyes vith tearswero dim 3 And my heart, was vore;— 1t woula beat o more With tlie hope T was dear to bim, For his words were cold, And bis parting fold e the warm love-throbs to still ; But my pagsion wild, Like wayward cail ‘Would not yield to Resson’s will, Inadloved him Jong, Though I kaew ’tivas ¥rong, For he gava me no look or word ; Yot, paseing me by With a carcleas eyz, Tho chords of my Lieart were stirrod, T'sc zeen him smilo O the lovely, whilo He hag sometimes frowned on mo* Yet his name and face 1 can ne'er crase From tho books of my memory. 1 will keep them thers, Aud oft In prayer ‘His dear name il watt above; And the angels alone, y" ‘When the nighi-winds moan, ‘Will hear of my hopolesa love, MunoangTTE: A Newspaper=Iienders TThe periodical press Las lately lost a warm friend and patron in the person of a wealthy in-~ ‘habitant of a French provincial town, who lately died there under circumstauces as singulsr ag -those of his life. He lived nlone in & secluded housd, admitted no one to it but a charwoman, ‘who cooked for him, sud anewspaper agent, who s0ld him thirty or forty journalsac a time, At length he did not appear to open the door to theso habitues when they sought entrance. They sccordingly applied to the police, who, being armed with the necessary powers, forced their way into the house of tlie eccentric owner, .and ‘broke in the door of tho bedraom, 'the threshold of which no one had ever been allowed to,cross. Hero tho poor man was found Iying dead. The state of his room and of his clothing was simply of this squalid den was the amount of literary matter it contained. Thé bed could only be reached from the door by passing through s ravine, the sides of which were composed of thousands of newspapers aud novels, thieir peru- fi“ hh:vmg formed his sola occupation and de- —_— Another Cnse of Bicod Poison. the details of the gad and sudden desth of Dr. Reiner, of Stillwater, which took place recently, from what is called ' blood poison.” Nearly & similar case has taken place in this city from the same canse. On Thuredsy of Iasé week Dr. G. Stamm, of this, city, made & postmortem ex- smination of the body of a man named Schumetz. During the operation Dr. Stamm accideptally scratched his hund upon the point of one of the ribs of the tody. The next day his baud and arm bogan to inflame and_swelled lo a frightful extent, and it.was fearcd that smputation would have £0 be resortod 0. Tho application of the ost vicient remedies, however, hava bden at- tended with beneficial résults, and the Doctor is now considered ont of dangor. indescribable, but the really nncommon feature. Sketch of a Noble Institution, A Collection of Over 219,000 Yo : umes, The Yearly Increass from 12,000 ¢ 15,000 Volumes, Correspondence of The Chicago Tribune. £ Bostox, Feb. 10, 1874, Itis well known that tho first question pat o & stranger in Boston is, * Have you seen tho big organ?” If thot is satiafactorily anawered, thy conversation may pass on to Bunker Hill Mong. ment, the State House, and the Commons; bot it s pure to end with tho Public Library. Ang hers Bostonisus may well become puffed. up with pride. You are willing to pardon the ey coseive estecmn in which they hold thein. selves and thoir posscssions when you gaze in' rapt admiration upon the wide shelves and lofty aleoves, STUFFED FGLL WITH BOOKS,~= some musty and worm-caten, Eome in paper covers, snd some in the gayest devics of ths latest fashionsbla publisher. - You will do well to listen to your Bostonian 28 he recomnts the way in which these treasures have been brought - tagether, nud the way in which they have been made most serviceabls to tho sick and poor. Ifyoukuow s city far away which hng g choioe library of its own, and may like to hear of thio workings of other libraries, you will, per- haps, take a noto of what he tells yon. THR JISTORY of the Public Library of Boston does ot extend overa long period of time ; bat i is, perhaps, unexampled in its eshibit of the generosity of & literary community when its interest has ance boen aroused. It would seem strango that a city like Boston should bave had no publio library previous t0 1852, bat such is the fact, Varions preliminary movemenis had been made bo. fore this time. In 1848, an st paseed the' State Legislaturo anthoriziog tho City of Boston to establish and maintaina public library ; several prominent citizens hag mado gifts of books and money, snd tho city had accepted some valuable books from the City ot Paris; but in 1852 wae constitnted the first Board of Trusteed, with Edward Everett ag President. The first report of this Board must Tovo been s moving document ; for, on reading it, Mr. Joshua Bales, of the well-kmown London firm of Baring Brothers & Co., was prompted To GIve 859,000 % towards tho noblo object of supplsing his native city with books, In 185, & temporary readin; yoom and fibrary were openod to the public; and. the following year, the corner-stone wag laid for the building which now contains tha city’s literary troasures. Thia Library was oponed in" 1953, and tho same ysar it sdded to jis stores the library, rich in ‘mathematlcal works, of the distingnished navigator, Dr. Bowditch. In 1860, it received the library of the Rav. Theo- dore Parker ; and, in 156G, tha ancient Princs Library, bequeathed by the Rav. Thomas Prince, in 1758, to the Deacons of the 01d South Church, was received on deposit. 3r. Tickuor, the hise torisn of Bpanish literature, died in 1871, after it = bequeathed to the city his Bnnnishé'agg Portugnese books, numbering nearly | <% f 1 volames, many of which are exceedingly ram and curious. He also left 84,000 as s fund, the *income from which {8 to bo devoted to the in. creaso of this special collection. A year ago the Barton Library was purchased at a erely nomi. pal rote. It contains many ranities,—books thet dato a8 far back as 1436; books in black Ietter ; original quartos of old plays; but s is pecnliarly rich-in Shakapestians. Tho Library now numbers ovER: 249,000 VOLTMES, and its normal rate of yearly increase sosmslo De fixed at from 12,000 to 15,000 volumes, The money-value of the Central Library alone is estimated at $5%0,000; bat, of course, no such sum conld roplaco it if it whould be dasiroyed, #8 many of 1ta books, eapecially in the dopart- ment of carly American history, sre entirel; TOtie, Biss the Rabeetiut okatioan b ready enumeratod, minor gifts of books and meney have beon constantly pouring in, and it will be soen that the city has been by no mesna niggardly in 1ts appropriations. For this vast storenouse of learnlog odr citizens are about cquaily indebted to the City Govornment sud to privato bonefactors. 3 The Boston Library is not the largost country. Tho Library of Congrees excoeds it in numbern, but does not approach itin extent of circulation. The Astor Library is no larger than the Bates Hall. OUR LIBRARY CONGISTS NOW of one central huilding, facing the Common, and four branches in tho surrounding towna which hinve becore a part of tho city. ?t is ® curions fact that tho establishment of these branches diminished hut very littla the circulation of the Central Library, while their own success was very gratifying. The laws of books seem to re- verse the Iaws of frade, einco a supply was found mecessary in order.to create a demand. The Central Library consists of a Reading- Toom; the Lower Hall, which contains novels, juveniles, and she_lighter class of books; sad thie Dates Hall, which containg a heavier kind of reading-matter, The differonce in_the books i not eo marked as the difference in the people who frequent tho two halls, " THE LOWER HALL is filled with the lower claszes ; whilo the great bods of the well-drersed, who are ablo fo get their supply of novels from the circalating li- braries at @ cents & day, come only for the edi- tions de buze of the Bates Hall. At sl times of the day tho Lower Hall is full; but from 406, cespecially on Satordays, it becomes densely crowd- ed. The sexcs are found in about equal num- ‘bers, but the number of people who have pessed middle ege is very small. Our Catholic fathers and mothers have not yet learned to caro mucl for bovks ; but, from appearances, their scus and danghiters will become a more literary class. Working men and women: rough boys, aad gig- gling school-girls aro well reprosented; bu what etrikes a stranger most is the largd pumber of small childron. = Doys about a3 high as &_rospectable pair of boots, palgy and thin, and old beyoud their years, are eagars 1y conning the catalogues, of waiting for theif names to be called from the desk. Youean- not help longing to send them to the Commoa for ono good gamo_at snow-balling. Youlook into tho reading-fcom, and find its hundi chairs filled, chiefly by men and boys; and thes yon ascend the broad stairs which lead to TIHE BATES BALL. Thoaromsof the true literary sir penstraisd your brain, and constrains you fo an involuntsiy ailonce. Aleoves three stories bigh surrouud 83+ open space, which Tises to a fressoed ceiling- Gray-haired mon and women in_spoctacled w8 rending or cousulting catalogues ; college sit* f deats and young divines aro poring over dusiy volumes ; while at youder table sits thatrs~ f gitiona} Loston literary women, with fair haif, £ somewhat dishevelod, fincly-cut features, asd & & supercilious nose. To-day sbe has hadavob f umo of old and yellow nowspapers brought 18 her from tho basement, aud sho s tskiug APl notes. Pe}ham ;!hn 18 on the s of Aoman's Journal. Y ¥ Let nstry to got someidea of thé lmunn‘;: reading which thesc people do. Everybody ¥! “ Tives in Boston can hu.e, on application. & car ‘which entittes him to tho use of two booksa:d time. The holders of cards ~oueER 56,000, and they take out, on an avorage, every day. This number varies with year, diminishing through the summer and regmlarly reaching 8 maximum in . ¢ Tha Peace Jubilee, the small-pox, sad the gu‘;- i fire, cach caused & perceptiblo dmmuuag. T & thig enormous issue, only one book ia TH0E ¥ not returned. Seven huudred readers look %V“ % 800 magazines every day. Any book which i not in the Library will be obtained oo the lgg“ i cation of 3 card-liolder, and 1,000 volumes ¥ ¢ added in this way last vear, Nine han e H sons in vear consnlt the Dritish Specifict [ i 4,500 ooz |- e timo of mouths, of Patents, giving an sverage time of £%0 t0 each examination.. Tho catalogue-system has been “TO0 CUAMBROER tan for farther use. It would takoe from five éo e years to make a complete catalogue, aoc, s time it was finished, it would be, of course, T2 defective. For books added since 1866, i Lias been supplicd by printed cards, ¥hicH arranged alphabetically in drawers, sl 4%, 7 congulted with great ease. The lad,tzr-"k!fi_‘:m for recording loans has ?veu place to m’r i in which the borrower fils up 5 priuted ! 'E:'wflk' his name, address, and the number of his BT and the attendant retains it until the boo: tuaned. N iravo loft uo room to wpealk of the Fisesy - Department and the qmesltxe‘sm:}rfl i must resexve these subjects for ';'f L"iv i) found P —