In the other departments of the magazine will be found poetry, tales, and other frothy trifles, and to these the reader can turn for relaxation from time to time, and thus guard against overstraining the powers of his mind. 
                                                  M. T.

P. S.—­1.  I have not sold out of the “Buffalo Express,” and shall not; neither shall I stop writing for it.  This remark seems necessary in a business point of view.

2.  These memoranda are not a “humorous” department.  I would not conduct an exclusively and professedly humorous department for any one.  I would always prefer to have the privilege of printing a serious and sensible remark, in case one occurred to me, without the reader’s feeling obliged to consider himself outraged.  We cannot keep the same mood day after day.  I am liable, some day, to want to print my opinion on jurisprudence, or Homeric poetry, or international law, and I shall do it.  It will be of small consequence to me whether the reader survive or not.  I shall never go straining after jokes when in a cheerless mood, so long as the unhackneyed subject of international law is open to me.  I will leave all that straining to people who edit professedly and inexorably “humorous” departments and publications.

3.  I have chosen the general title of memoranda for this department because it is plain and simple, and makes no fraudulent promises.  I can print under it statistics, hotel arrivals, or anything that comes handy, without violating faith with the reader.

4.  Puns cannot be allowed a place in this department.  Inoffensive ignorance, benignant stupidity, and unostentatious imbecility will always be welcomed and cheerfully accorded a corner, and even the feeblest humour will be admitted, when we can do no better; but no circumstances, however dismal, will ever be considered a sufficient excuse for the admission of that last—­and saddest evidence of intellectual poverty, the Pun.

ABOUT SMELLS

In a recent issue of the “Independent,” the Rev. T. De Witt Talmage, of Brooklyn, has the following utterance on the subject of “Smells”: 

I have a good Christian friend who, if he sat in the front pew in church, and a working man should enter the door at the other end, would smell him instantly.  My friend is not to blame for the sensitiveness of his nose, any more than you would flog a pointer for being keener on the scent than a stupid watch dog.  The fact is, if you, had all the churches free, by reason of the mixing up of the common people with the uncommon, you would keep one-half of Christendom sick at their stomach.  If you are going to kill the church thus with bad smells, I will have nothing to do with this work of evangelization.

We have reason to believe that there will be labouring men in heaven; and also a number of negroes, and Esquimaux,