I call Uncle Tom's Cabin "A Wonderful Book." It is not only wonderful in the powers of description which it displays, and the amazing genius that shines in every chapter; but in the sound, Christian, humane, and patriotic sentiments which abound in the volume. It is wonderful in its analysis of the workings of the human heart. You would think that the writer must have seen into the "chambers of imagery," when the candle of truth was shining there. The human heart is laid bare with a master-hand. Her ability to anatomize the human heart is amazing. The book is also wonderful in the bursts of genuine electrifying eloquence. The friend who put the book in my hand, said that he had never been so affected by a book of the kind in his life. He had repeatedly wept over it like a child. Uncle Joseph would feel ashamed of himself if he had not given some tears of genuine sensibibility to Uncle Tom's Cabin. It is especially, wonderful in the dramatic power which it displays. You see the scenes. You hear the conversations. You witness and sincerely sympathise with the struggles which it records. And you can never forget the characters that are drawn, after you have once read them. The book too is as wonderful in its genuine humour and clever drollery, as in its pathos and eloquence. Your tears and your smiles blend as you read it, like the sunshine and shower in an April day. Its piety too, is beautiful. Its descriptions of the influence of religion on the Negro's mind, are very finc. Uncle Tom is a most amiable and Christian man. In the various societies into which he is thrown, he exhibits the power of religion on the mind and character, in the most amiable light. His death is very touching and tenderly beautiful. But if I am not greatly mistaken, many of my young friends will most deeply admire that amiable little creature Eva St. Clair. Her character is most finely drawn; and we think no one can rise up from reading it, without feeling himself better. And then the shrewdness, kindness, and many excellences, of St. Clair himself, give us a deep and lively interest in him. The story of George and Eliza Harris, is full of deepest interest. Their genuine affection for their beauti

ful boy, is finely brought out. The book abounds with sound views of truth, beauty, and goodness; and many are the choice extracts that Uncle Joseph would like to make. But I must content myself with giving one most touching scene, which, if I mistake not, will make you anxious to own and read the book for yourselves. The following is an extract from

UNCLE TOM'S CABIN.-CHAP. IX.

"The light of a cheerful fire shone on the rug and carpet of a cosy parlour, and glittered on the sides of the tea-cups and well-brightened tea-pot, as Senator Bird was drawing off his boots, preparatory to inserting his feet in a pair of new handsome slippers, which his wife had been working for him, while away on his senatorial tour. Mrs. Bird, looking the very picture of delight, was superintending the arrangements of the table, ever and anon mingling admonitory remarks to a number of frolicsome juveniles, who were effervescing in all those modes of untold gambol and mischief, that have astonished mothers ever since the Flood.

"Sam, let the door-nob alone-there's a man! Mary! Mary! don't pull the cat's tail-poor pussy! Jim, you mustn't climb on the table-no, no!-You don't know, my dear, what a surprise it is to us all, to see you here tonight," said she at last, when she found time to say something to her husband.

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Yes, yes, I thought I'd just make a run down, spend the night, and have a little comfort at home. I'm tired to death, and my head aches!"

Mrs. Bird cast a glance at a camphor-bottle, which stood in the half open closet, and appeared to meditate an

approach to it, but her husband interposed.

"No, no, Mary, no doctoring! a cup of your good hot tea, and some of our home living, is what I want. It's tiresome business, this legislating!

And the senator smiled, as if he rather liked the idea of considering himself a sacrifice to his country.

"Well," said his wife, after the business of the tea-table

was getting rather slack, "and what have you been doing in the Senate ?"

Now it was a very unusual thing for gentle little Mrs. Bird, ever to trouble her head with what was going on in the house of the State, very wisely considering that she had enough to do to mind her own. Mr. Bird, therefore opened his eyes in surprise, and said—

66 Not very much of importance.”

“Well; but is it true that they have been passing a law forbidding people to give meat and drink to those coloured folks that come along? I heard they were talking of some such law, but I could not think any Christian legislature would pass it!"

"Why, Mary, you are getting to be a politician, all at

once."

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'No, nonsense! I would not give a fip for all your politics, generally, but I think this is something downright cruel and unchristian. I hope, my dear, no such law has been passed."

"There has been a law passed forbidding people to help off the slaves that come over from Kentucky, my dear; so much of that thing has been done by the reckless Abolitionists, that our brethren in Kentucky, are very strongly excited, and it seems necessary, and no more than Christian and kind, that something should be done by our State to quiet the excitement."

"And what is the law? It don't forbid us to shelter these poor creatures a night, does it? and to give 'em something comfortable to eat, and a few old clothes, and send them quietly about their business ?”

'Why, yes, my dear," that would be aiding and abetting, you know."

Mrs. Bird was a timid, blushing little woman, of about four feet in height, and with mild blue eyes, and a peach-bloom complexion; and the gentlest, sweetest voice in the world -as for courage, a moderate-sized cock-turkey had been known to put her to rout at the very first gobble; and a stout house-dog of moderate capacity would bring her into subjection, merely by a show of his teeth. Her husband

and children were her entire world, and in these she ruled more by intreaty and persuasion, than by command o argument. There was only one thing that was capable of arousing her, and that provocatiom came in on the side of her unusually gentle and sympathetic nature; any thing in the shape of cruelty would throw her into a passion, which was the more alarming and inexplicable in proportion to the general softness of her nature. Generally the most indulgent and easy to be intreated of all mothers, still her boys had a most reverent remembrance of a vehement chastisement, that she once bestowed on them, because she found them leagued with several graceless boys of the neighbourhood, stoning a defenceless kitten.

"I'll tell you what," Master Bill used to say, “I was scared that time. Mother came at me, so that I thought she was crazy; and I was whipped and tumbled off to bed, without any supper, before I could get over wondering what had come about; and, after that, I heard mother crying outside the door, which made me feel worse than all the rest. I'll tell you what," he'd say,

stoned another kitten."

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we boys never

On the present occasion, Mrs. Bird rose quickly, with very red cheeks, which quite improved her general appearance, and walked up to her husband, with quite a resolute air, and said, in a determined tone

"Now, John, I want to know if you think such a law as that, is right and Christian?"

"You won't shoot me now, Mary, if I say I do!"

"I never could have thought it of you, John! You didn't vote for it?

"Even so, my fair politician."

"You ought to be ashamed, John! Poor, homeless, houseless creatures! It's a shameful, wicked, abominable law, and I'll break it for one, the first time I get a chance; and I hope I shall have a chance, I do! Things have got to a pretty pass, if a woman can't give a warm supper, and a bed to poor starving creatures, just because they are slaves, and have been abused and oppressed all their lives, poor things!"

"But, Mary, just listen to me. Your feelings are all quite right, dear, and interesting, and I love you for them; but then dear, we musn't suffer our feelings to run away with our judgment. You must consider it's not a matter of private feeling; there are great public interests involved, there is such a state of public agitation rising, that we must put aside our private feelings."

"Now, John, I don't know anything about politics, but I can read my Bible; and there I see that I must feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and comfort the desolate; and that Bible I mean to follow."

"But in cases where your doing so would involve a great public evil-"

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Obeying God never brings on public evils. I know it can't. It's always safest, all round, to do as He bids us." Now, listen to me, Mary, and I can state to you a very clear argument, to show—”

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"O, nonsense, John! you can talk all night, but you wouldn't do it. I put it to you, John, would you now turn away a poor, shivering, hungry creature from your door, because he was a runaway? Would you, now?"

Now, if the truth must be told, our senator had the misfortune to be a man who had a particularly humane and accessible nature, and turning away anybody that was in trouble never had been his forte; and what was worse for him in this particular pinch of the argument was, that his wife knew it, and, of course was making an assault on rather an indefensible point. So he had recourse to the usual means of gaining time for such cases made and provided ; he said "ahem," and coughed several times, took out his pocket-handkerchief, and began to wipe his glasses. Mrs. Bird, seeing the defenceless condition of the enemy's territory, had no more conscience than to push her advantage.

"I should like to see you doing that, John-I really should! Turning a woman out of doors in a snow-storm, for instance, or, may be you'd take her up and put her in jail, wouldn't you? You would make a great hand at that!"