SCARRON'S DESCRIPTION OF HIMSELF. There flies a child; his aid the father lends, But writhing falls by random bullets battered; With his last breath the boy to God commends, Nor knows that both by the same blow were shat- So Boreas, when he stirs his mighty wings, Like the fond lover, whose too dazzling flame Thou best of carpets, spread thee at my feet! 167 ley, and that I raise and lower it to salute I have left thirty years behind me. SCARRON'S DESCRIPTION OF HIM- legs and my thighs formed at first an ob SELF. Reader, you who have never seen me, and who perhaps trouble yourself very little about me-for there is not much to be gained by seeing a person made like me-know that I should not be anxious that you should see me, if I had not learned that some facetious wits make themselves merry at the expense of my misfortunes, and depict me as quite different from what I am. Some say that I am a cripple in a bowl; others, that I have no thighs, and that I am put on the table in a box, where I chatter like a winking magpie; and others that my hat is fastened to a cord that's attached to a pul tuse angle, and then a right angle, and at last an acute angle. My thighs and my body made another; and my head bending down on my chest, I am pretty much like a Z. My arms are shortened as well as my legs, and my fingers as well as my arms. In fact, I am an epitome of human misery. That's pretty nearly how I look. Since I am in such a fair way, I will tell you something of my temper. Besides, this introduction is written just to make the book bigger, at the request of the bookseller, who is afraid he will not get back the expenses of printing, but for that it would be of no But it use, just like a good many others. is no new thing to commit folly out of good nature, besides those that one does on one's own account. I have always been rather passionate, rather fond of good things, and rather idle. I often call my valet a fool, and soon after, sir. I hate nobody; God send they may treat I am very comfortable when me the same. I I have any money, and should be still more comfortable if I had my health. enjoy myself very well in company. I am very content when I am alone. I bear my troubles pretty patiently. But it seems to me that my introduction is long enough, and that it is time for me to make an end. THE BIVOUAC OF THE DEAD. [The following odo, by THEODORE O'HARA, formed a part of the ceremonies at the dedication of the monument to the soldiers of Kentucky who fell in the war with Mexico.] The muffled drum's sad roll has beat The soldier's last tattoo; No more on life's parade shall meet And Glory guards with solemn round No rumor of the foe's advance Now swells upon the wind, No troubled thought at midnight haunts Of loved ones left behind; No vision of the morrow's strife No braying horn nor screaming fife Their shivered swords are red with rust, The neighing troop, the flashing blade, Like the fierce northern hurricane Full many a moth er's breath has swept And long the pitying sky has wept The raven's scream or eagle's flight, Alone now wake each solemn height Sons of the dark and bloody ground, Your own proud land's heroic soil She claims from war its richest spoil- Thus 'neath their parent turf they rest, Far from the gory field, Borne to a Spartan mother's breast On many a bloody shield. The sunshine of their native sky And kindred eyes and hearts watch by Rest on, embalmed and sainted dead! No impious footsteps here shall tread While Fame her record keeps, Yon marble minstrel's voiceless stone When many a vanished year has flown, Nor wreck, nor change, nor winter's blight, Can dim one ray of holy light THE BATTLE OF MOUNT VESU VIUS. A VICTORY TO WHICH ROME OWED HER CON QUEST OF THE WORLD. [THOMAS ARNOLD, D. D., the eminent educator and historian, was born at Cowes, Isle of Wight, June 13, 1795. He was educated at Oxford, in which University he subsequently became regius professor of history. As head-master of Rugby school, Dr. Arnold wielded a vast and beneficent influence. His chief literary work -left incomplete,-is a History of Rome, from which we offer a quotation. Dean Stanley says: "His [Dr. Arnold's] greatness did not consist in the pre-eminence f any single quality, but in several remarkable powers, thoroughly leavened and pervaded by an ever-increasing moral nobleness." He died June 12, 1842, leaving two sons, one of whom is the distinguished poet, Matthew Arnold.] When the Latins sent their two prætors as ambassadors to Rome, it is evident that |