A lump of charcoal held in the mouth, two or three times a week, and slowly chewed, has a wonderful power to preserve the teeth and purify the breath. The action is purely chemical. It counteracts the acid arising from a disordered stomach, or food decaying about the gums; and it is this acid which destroys the teeth. A dear friend of ours had, when about twenty years of age, a front tooth that turned black gradually, crumbled, and broke off piecemeal. By frequently chewing charcoal, the progress of decay was not only arrested, but nature set vigorously to work to restore the breach, and the crumbled portion grew again, till the whole tooth was as sound as before! This I know to be a fact.

Every one knows that charcoal is an anti-putrescent, and is used in boxing up animal or vegetable substances, to keep them from decay. Upon the same chemical principle, it tends to preserve the teeth and sweeten the breath.

There is no danger in swallowing it; on the contrary, small quantities have a healthful effect on the inward system, particularly when the body is suffering from that class of complaints peculiarly incident to summer. It would not be wise to swallow that, or any gritty substance, in large quantities, or very frequently; but once or twice a week a little would be salutary rather than otherwise. A bit of charcoal, as big as a cherry, merely held in the mouth a few hours without chewing has a good effect. At first, most people dislike to chew it, but use soon renders it far from disagreeable. Those who are troubled with an offensive breath, might chew it very often and swallow it but seldom. It is peculiarly important to clean and rinse the mouth thoroughly before going to bed; otherwise a great deal of the destructive acid will form during the night.

I

If these hints induce only one person to take better care of the teeth, I shall be more than rewarded for the trouble of writing. am continually pained to see young people losing their teeth merely for the want of a few simple precautions; and one cannot enter stage or steam car without finding the atmosphere polluted and rendered absolutely unhealthy for the lungs to breathe, when a proper use of water and charcoal might render it as wholesome and pleasant as a breeze of Eden.

Men are then least in their own eyes when God is most in their eyes, — Ralph Venning.

Original.

'REAL LIFE'-A SKETCH FROM MY JOURNAL.

DURING the winter of 1840, I frequently went to pass a day and a night with my dear friend, Mrs. W. Many an hour did I sit receiving instruction from herself and husband, as they conversed of their experience in the changes of this mortal life. Frequently we found our hearts filled almost to bursting, while the world in its different phases was passing before us; for they had already seen enough of the vanishing of time's shadows, to make the heart sicken; enough of broken schemes and groundless hopes. My own short experience I considered but initiatory to the great school before me.

Those hours of communion which were sometimes prolonged, we closed with prayer. More than once the midnight hour witnessed these petitions; and as each prayed in turn, we seemed to be signing a covenant in prayers and tears, that earth should henceforth be no resting-place for our spirits; our hearts would cleave to the immutable throne, where they would be secure from earthly sorrow. My friend, the wife, when almost overwhelmed with profuse weeping, would exclaim, 'what can this mean? To what deep waters are our feet tending?'

Upon one Saturday afternoon, after an absence of some time, I again visited my friend. All around was made to wear a dreary aspect by a late fall of snow, drifted upon all sides. The husband was afflicted with an influenza, so that he had taken his bed. The wife was waiting upon and watching over him with unwearied love. In hope of rendering assistance and imparting comfort, I chose to spend the holy Sabbath with them. The sacred day had nearly passed, and it was time for the indisposed man to take a portion of simple medicine, which his tender wife had been administering to him at periods during the day.

The medicine was given, a few moments elapsed, when a shriek from the wife, 'My dear husband, I have killed you!' in an instant brought us all upon our feet. A large dose of the oil of vitriol had been given, instead of the medicine. Some mistake had been made in the arrangement of the vials. What could be done? The youngest son was away in an instant to call the physician. But there must be no waiting,—death comes on apace, if the poison is not neutralized. There was no confusion. Divine Providence directed our hands, so that the physician, who came in a few moments, pronounced all which had been done, 'done wisely.' 'Yet,

sir,' said he, addressing himself to the sick man, 'it is a doubtful case with you, after all that can be done.' The afflicted man heard

it with composure.

Fatigued by uncommon exertion, about midnight I yielded to the solicitations of my friend, and retired, leaving her alone to watch the quickened pulse and hurried breath of him whose life was as her own. When morning came, the first sound I heard upon waking, was, 'mother is very ill.' I hastened to her room and found her unable to raise her head. The scene through which she had just passed, proved too much for her weak, nervous system. Nature was sinking. There lay upon the same bed, the husband and wife, who had lived in the closest union, going down to death's door, hand in hand. Week after week passed away, and here the sufferers continued; when one revived, the other revived; when one declined, the other declined also. Both took medicine from the same cup, and both partook of the same refreshment. There was reason to believe that they both would depart at once and share a grave together. Their two sons, only children, seemed already bereft. The youngest came scores of times and asked, 'is there any change?' and received the same reply. While the case with them was yet doubtful, as to life or death, the emaciated man said to me, 'Should we be raised from this sickness, our remaining days shall be given to the church of God.' 'I have some reason to believe,' continued he, that the poison is yet at work in my system; if so, I shall go suddenly. I wish to say to you now, that I have no apprehensions. Divine influences support my spirit.' His companion said, 'I fear not for ourselves, but O, our children! Being unconverted, they are not prepared to withstand the insinuations of this wicked world; and they are not prepared to follow us into the eternal world.' *

But these united ones are yet in the land of the living. Surely, they have been brought back from the very entrance of the 'dark valley.' They are now devoting their lives to the promulgation of the glorious gospel of the blessed God.' Earthly pursuits can no longer secure their attention; and though laborers in the gospel field years before this scene was realized, they are now there as never before; and are often saying, 'we adore the hand that has led us. Let us be "separated unto the work," and free from earthly entanglements.' Hallelujah to God, who brings health out of sickness, and joy out of sorrow!

January, 1845.