A Connecticut man has invented a head-rest to be attached
to the side of the pew by which the possessor may obtain for himself a comfortable nap, without liability to that terrible bobbing which brings the heat to so many faces suddenly betrayed by Nature in the midst of a church nap. The New York editor who mentions it, adds with perfectly conventional propriety that he hopes it may not succeed, because the spectacle of head-rest after head-rest going up, and head after head going down in the midst of the choicest passages in the sermon, might well freeze the most eloquent tongue. But this worthy person forgets that the head-rests are not very likely to go up and the heads down in the midst of eloquent passages, but rather in the midst of hacknied passages which have no life or power in them. However, the true remedy for stupid sermons is to go away before them,— which we ought always to be able to do without giving offence. The American inventor, however, is evidently opposed to any waste of power, and regarding the stupid sermon as a first-rate sedative, wishes to turn it to account in that way. But economy is not always decent. To use the parson to put you to sleep when it is his proper function to awaken you out of sleep, though it may be decent in a new country, where economy is forced to be vigilant even to the verge of impudence, yet in England it would not do. 'till one or two head-rests in every church might perhaps be instructive, as a sort of stuporometer to the preacher himself.