They proceed accordingly towards the shop, and repeat their inquiry, “Do you know any thing of the young child, here?” The shopkeeper says to his apprentice, “Reach half a quarter of tobacco to the strangers.” “We do not ask for tobacco,” say the wise men; “but for some intelligence of the young child.” “I do not know any thing of him,” replies the shopkeeper; “but there is an old Rabbi living in the upper end of the village; call on him, and very probably he will give you all the information you desire respecting the object of your search.” They immediately direct their course towards the house of the Rabbi; and having reached it, they knock at the door; and being admitted into his presence, they ask him if he knows any thing of the young child. “Come in,” says he; and when they have entered and are seated, the Rabbi refers to his books and chronicles, and says he to the wise men, “There is something wonderful about to take place; some remarkable person has been or is to be born; but the best thing for you is to go down yonder street; there is living there, by the river side, the son of an old priest; you will be sure to know all of him.” Having bid the old Rabbi a respectful farewell, on they go; and reaching the river’s side, they inquire of the by-standers for the son of the old priest. Immediately he is pointed out to them. There is a “raiment of camel’s hair about him, and a leathern girdle about his loins.” They ask him if he knows any thing of the young child. “Yes,” says he, “there he is: behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world! There he is; he will bruise the dragon’s head, and bring in everlasting righteousness to every one that believeth in his name.” VI. VARIETIES OF PREACHING. I PERCEIVE four strong men on their journey toward Lazarus’ grave, for the purpose of raising him to life. One of them, who is eminent for his piety, says, “I will descend into the grave, and will take with me a bowl of the salt of duties, and will rub him well with the sponge of natural ability.” He enters the grave, and commences his rubbing process. I watch his operations at a distance, and after a while inquire, “Well, are there any symptoms of life there? Does he arise, does he breathe, my brother?” “No such thing,” replies he, “he is still quiet, and I cannot salt him to _will_—and besides this, his smell is rather heavy.” “Well,” says the second, “come you out; I was afraid that your means would not answer the purpose; let me enter the grave.” The second enters, carrying in his hand a whip of the scorpions of threatening; and, says he, “I will make him feel.” He directs his scorpion and fiery ministry at the dead corpse; but in vain, and I hear him crying out, “All is unsuccessful; dead he is after all.”