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this gentleman's luggage.' And then she'd curtshy | in the "Drawer;" but there is no reader who will agin, and smile so handsome!

"Don't that look well, now? Do you want any thing better than that? If you do, you are hard to please, that's all. But stop a little: don't be in such an almighty, everlastin' hurry. Think afore you speak. Go there, agin, see her a-smilin' once more. and look clust. It's only skin-deep; just on the surface, like a cat's-paw on the water; it's nothin' but a rimple like, and no more. Then look cluster still, and you'll discarn the color of it. You laugh at the 'color' of a smile, but do you watch, and you'll see it. 'Look, now; don't you see the color of the shiling there? It's white, and cold, and silvery: it's a boughten smile, and a boughten smile, like an artificial flower, hain't got no sweetness into it. It's like whipt cream; open your mouth wide; take it all in, and shut your lips down tight, and it ain't nothin'. It's only a mouthful of moonshine, a'ter all."

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Sam goes on to say that a smile can easily be counterfeited; but that the eye, rightly regarded, can not deceive.

"Square, the first railroad that was ever made, was made by Natur. It runs strait from the heart to the eye, and it goes so almighty fast it can't be compared to nothin' but 'iled lightning. The moment the heart opens its doors, out jumps an emotion, whips into the car, and offs, like wink, to the eye. That's the station-house and terminus for the passengers, and every passenger carries a lantern in his hand, as bright as an argand lamp; you can see him ever so far off.

"Look to the eye, Square: if there ain't no lamp there, no soul leaves the heart that hitch: there ain't no train runnin', and the station-house is empty. Smiles can be put on and off, like a wig; sweet expressions come and go like lights and shades in natur; the hands will squeeze like a fox-trap; the body bends. most graceful; the ear will be most attentive; the manner will flatter, so you're enchanted; and the tongue will lie like the devil: but the eye never.

"But, Square, there's all sorts of eyes. There's an onmeanin' eye, and a cold eye; a true eye and a false eye; a sly eye, a kickin' eye, a passionate eye, a revengeful eye, a manoeuvring eye, a joyous eye, and a sad eye; a squintin' eye, and the evil-eye; and more'n all, the dear little lovin' eye. They must all be studied to be larnt; but the two important ones to be known are the true eye and the false eye."

An American writer, somewhat more distinguished as a philosopher and psychologist than Mr. Slick, contends that the "practiced eye" may often deceive the most acute observer, but that there is something in the play of the lines about the mouth, the shades of emotion developed by the least change in the expression of the lips, that defies the strictest self-control. We leave both theories with the reader.

THAT was a pleasant story, told of an English wit, of very pleasant memory, who was no mean proficient in "turning the tables" upon an opponent, when he found himself losing. On one occasion he was rapidly losing ground in a literary discussion, when the opposite party exclaimed:

"My good friend, you are not such a rare scholar as you imagine; you are only an every-day man."

"Well, and you are a week one," replied the other; who instantly jumped upon the back of a horse-laugh, and rode victoriously over his prostrate conqueror.

We know not the author of the following lines, nor how, or at what time, they came to find a place

not pronounce them very touching and beautiful: I am not old-I can not be old,

Though three-score years and ten

Have wasted away like a tale that is told,

The lives of other men

I am not old-though friends and foes
Alike have gone to their graves;
And left me alone to my joys or my woes,
As a rock in the midst of the waves

I am not old-I can not be old,

Though tottering, wrinkled, and gray;
Though my eyes are dim, and my marrow is cold,
Call me not old to-day!

For early memories round me throng,

Of times, and manners, and men ;
As I look behind on my journey so long,
Of three-score miles and ten.

I look behind and am once more young,
Buoyant, and brave, and bold;

And my heart can sing, as of yore it sung,
Before they called me old.

I do not see her-the old wife there-
Shriveled, and haggard, and gray;
But I look on her blooming, soft, and fair,
As she was on her wedding-day.

I do not see you, daughters and sons,
In the likeness of women and men ;
But I kiss you now as I kissed you once
My fond little children then.

And as my own grandson rides on my knee,
Or plays with his hoop or kite,

I can well recollect I was merry as he,
The bright-eyed little wight!
"Tis not long since-it can not be long,
My years so soon were spent,
Since I was a boy, both straight and strong,
But now I am feeble and bent.

A dream, a dream-it is all a dream!
A strange, sad dream, good sooth;
For old as I am, and old as I seem,
My heart is full of youth.

Eye hath not seen, tongue hath not told,
And ear hath not heard it sung,

How buoyant and bold, tho' it seem to grow old,
Is the heart forever young!
Forever young-though life's old age,
Hath every nerve unstrung;
The heart, the heart is a heritage,
That keeps the old man young!

THAT is a good story told of an empty coxcomb, who, after having engrossed the attention of the com. pany for some time with himself and his petty ailments, observed to the celebrated caustic Dr. Parr, that he could never go out without catching cold is his head.

"No wonder," said the doctor, rather pettishly; "you always go out without any thing in it!"

We have heard somewhere of another of the same stamp, who imagined himself to be a poet, and who said to "Nat. Lee," whose insane verse was much in vogue at the time :

"It is not easy to write like a madman, as you do." "No," was the reply; "but it is very easy to write like a fool, as you do!"

There was some "method" in the "madness" that dictated that cutting rejoinder, at any rate

"I was once a sea-faring man," said an old New York ship-master one day, to a friend in "The Swamp," "and my first voyage was to the East Indies. To keep me from mischief, the mate used to set me picking oakum, or ripping up an old sail for 'parceling,' as it was called. While engaged one day at this last employment, it occurred to me that a small piece of the sail would answer an admirable

purpose in mending my duck over-trowsers, as they | Miss Sandys, beg to inform Mr. Charles Morgan, were beginning to be rather tender in certain places, owing, perhaps, to my sitting down so much. I soon appropriated a small piece, but was detected by the mate while stowing it away.'

"He took it from me, and while he was lecturing me, the captain, a noble fellow, with a human heart in his bosom, came on deck, when the whole matter was laid before him.

Mrs. Charles Morgan, Miss Charles Morgan, and the Governess (whose name Mr. Walter Morton, Mrs. Walter Morton, and Miss Sandys do not recollect), that Mr. Walter Morton, Mrs. Walter Morton, and Miss Sandys can accommodate Mr. Charles Morgan, Mrs. Charlés Morgan, Miss Charles Morgan, and the Governess (whose name Mr. Walter Morton, Mrs. Walter Morton, and Miss Sandys do not recollect), with beds, if remaining through the night is agreeable to Mr. Charles Morgan, Mrs. Charles Morgan, Miss Charles Morgan, and the Governess (whose name Mr. Walter Morton, Mrs. Walter Morton, and Miss Sandys do not recollect!"

"A—,' said he, 'always ask for what you want; if it is denied to you, then steal it, if you think proper.' "I remembered his advice; and in a short time afterward had another piece of canvas snugly 'stowed away.' I carried it forward, and gave it to iny 'chummy,' an old 'salt,' who had the charge of my wardrobe (which consisted of six pairs of duck-vitation to a dinner-party. In point of roundabouttrowsers, the same number of red-flannel shirts, a Scotch woolen cap, and a fine-tooth comb), and performed my mending.

"The next day I went on deck with a clean pair of trowsers on, neatly patched. As I was going forward the captain hailed me :

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This is an exact copy of an authentic note of in

ativeness, it Is on a par with the long legal papers which used to be served upon pecuniary delinquents.

IF you would enjoy a bit of most natural and felicitous description, read the following by that classical and witty writer-no longer, with sorrow "You took that piece of canvas, sir!' be it spoken, of this world-the author of "The Yes, captain,' I replied, 'I did. You yourself American in Paris." The passage has been in the told me to ask, and if I was refused, to do the other" Drawer" for many years: thing. I was refused, and did do the other thing." "Well,' rejoined the captain, 'I have no great objection to your having the canvas, but let me tell you that you will never make a sailor if you carry your flying-jib over the stern!'

"My chummy,' sewing from the inside, had 'seated' my trowsers with a piece of canvas marked 'F. JIB!""

THERE used to be quite popular, many years ago, a species of letter-writing in poetry, in accomplishing which much ingenuity was tasked and much labor expended. The ensuing lines are a good example of this kind of composition by comic writers who have not sufficiently advanced in joking to get “out of their letters." The lines were addressed to Miss Emma Vee, who had a pet jay, of which she was very fond:

"Your jay is fond, which well I know,
He does SA to prove ;

And he can talk, I grant, but O!
He can not talk of love.

"Believe me, M A, when I say,

I dote to that X S,

IN V even that pet J,

Which U sometimes caress.
"Though many other girls I know,
And they are fair, I C,

Yet U X L them all, and so

I love but M A V.

"M A, my love can ne'er D K,

Except when I shall die;

And if your heart must say me nay,
Just write and tell me Y !"

THE following "Welsh Card of Invitation" is a very amusing example of the avoidance of pronouns "Mr. Walter Morton, and Mrs. Walter Morton, and Miss Sandys's compliments to Mr. Charles Morgan, Mrs. Charles Morgan, Miss Charles Morgan, and the Governess (whose name Mr. Walter Morton, Mrs. Walter Morton, and Miss Sandys do not recollect), and Mr. Walter Morton, Mrs. Walter Morton, and Miss Sandys request the favor of the company of Mr. Charles Morgan, Mrs. Charles Morgan, Miss Charles Morgan, and the Governess (whose name Mr. Walter Morton, Mrs. Walter Morton, and Miss Sandys do not recollect), to dinner on Monday next. "Mr Walter Morton. Mrs. Walter Morton, and

"There is a variety of little trades and industries which derive their chief means of life from the wants and luxuries of the street; I mean trades that are unknown in any other country than Paris. You will see an individual moving about at all hours of the night, silent and active, and seizing the smallest bit of paper in the dark, where you can see nothing; and with a hook in the end of a stick, picking it up. and pitching it with amazing dexterity into a basket tied to his left shoulder; with a cat-like walk, being every where and nowhere at the same time, stirring up the rubbish of every nook and gutter of the street, under your very nose. This is the Chiffonier.' He is a very important individual. He is in matter what Pythagoras was in mind; and his transformations are scarcely less curious than those of the Samian sage. The beau, by his pains, peruses once again his wornout dicky or cravat, of a morning, in the 'Magazin des Modes;' while the politician has his linen breeches reproduced in the Journal des Debats;' and many a fine lady pours out her soul upon a billet-dour that was once a dish-cloth. The chiffonier' stands at the head of the little trades, and is looked up to with envy by the others. He has two coats, and on holidays wears a chain' and quizzing-glass. He rises, too, like the Paris gentry, when the chickens roost, and when the lark cheers the morning, goes to bed.

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"All the city is divided into districts, and let out to these 'chiffoniers' by the hour; to one from ten to eleven, and from eleven to twelve to another, and so on through the night; so that several get a living and consideration from the same district. This individual does justice to the literary compositions of the day. He crams into his bag indiscriminately the last vaudeville, the last sermon of the Archbishop, and the last essay of the Academy.

"Just below the 'chiffonier' is the Gratteur.' This artist scratches the livelong day between the stones of the pavement for old nails from horses' shoes, and other bits of iron; always in hope of a bit of silver, and even perhaps a bit of gold; more happy in his hope than a hundred others in the possession. He has a store, or magazin,' in the Faubourgs, where he deposits his ferruginous treasure. His wife keeps this store, and is a 'Marchande de Fer.' He maintains a family, like another man; one or two of his sons he brings up to scratch for a living, and the other he sends to college; and he has a lot

'in perpetuity' in Père la Chaise. His rank, however, is inferior to that of the 'chiffonier,' who will not give him his daughter in marriage, and he don't ask him to his soirées."

A SAD and "harrowing" event (after the manner of "the horrid" poetical school), is recorded in the subjoined wild "Fragment:"

"His eye was stern and wild; his cheek Was pale and cold as clay;

Upon his tightened lip a smile

Of fearful meaning lay:

"He mused awhile, but not in doubt;
No trace of doubt was there;

It was the steady, solemn pause
Of resolute despair!

"Once more he looked upon the scroll,
Once more its words he read¡
Then calmly, with unflinching hand,
Its folds before him spread.

"I saw him bare his throat, and seize
The blue, cold-gleaming steel,
And grimly try the temper'd edge
He was so soon to feel!

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"Again I looked: a fearful change

Across his face had passed;
He seemed to rave:-on cheek and lip
A flaky foam was cast.

"He raised on high the glittering blade;
Then first I found a tongue :
'Hold! madman! stay the frantic deed!
I cried, and forth I sprung:

"He heard me, but he heeded not:
One glance around he gave :
And ere I could arrest his hand,

He had-BEGUN TO SHAVE!"

We can recall some half-dozen specimens of this style of writing; one, at least, of which, from an erratic American poet, must be familiar to the general reader.

Literary Notices.

Memoirs of Margaret Fuller Ossoli. (Published | mon degree, in all the more sacred relations of life; by Phillips, Sampson, and Co.) The subject of these with a high sense of duty; never shrinking from volumes has left a reputation for strength and brill-sacrifices; a wise and faithful counselor where her iancy of intellect which, we imagine, will hardly be confidence was invoked; absolutely free from every justified hereafter by the perusal of her writings. trait of petty or sordid passion; the very soul of No one, however, can read this touching tribute to honor; and with a sense of justice that seemed to her memory without perceiving that she was a really her with Eternal Truth.-In these volumes, she remarkable woman. It at once explains the secret is left in a great measure to speak for herself. Her of her success, and of her want of general recognition. letters and private journals present a transparent From her early childhood, she displayed a wonderful record of her character. The editorial portion, by precocity of genius. This was stimulated by con- R. W. Emerson, James F. Clarke, and W. H. Chanstant mental inebriation, produced by the excitements ning, is executed with beautiful candor. The most of an ambitious and ill-judged education. Her girl-truthful simplicity graces and fortifies their stateish studies were devoted to subjects which demand-ments. With no other aim than to exhibit an honest ed the mature experience of a masculine intellect. portraiture of their friend, they have in no case, that Deprived of the frolic delights of childhood, a woman we can discover, allowed their private feelings to in cultivation while young in years, goaded to the gain the mastery over their sterner judgments.-Her wildest intensity of effort by the urgency of an ex- residence in Italy reveals her heroism, devotion, and acting parent, and attaining an extraordinary mental womanly tenderness, in a light that would almost development at the expense of her physical nature, induce the belief, on the part of those who had met she must, of course, soon have become the object her only in the antagonisms of society, that she had of marked attention and wonder-a prodigy to her changed her identity. A profound, mysterious pathos friends, and a mystery to herself. Thus she was hovers around her Italian experience, preparing the early placed in a false position. She grew up self- reader for the tragic close of a life, which was itself involved, her diseased mind preying on itself, and a tragedy. The description of her last hours pre the consciousness of her personal importance as-sents a scene of desolation, before which grief can sumed a gigantic magnitude, which threatened to overshadow all healthy manifestations of character. Charity and its Fruits, by JONATHAN EDWARDS. In this condition, she was accustomed to claim more edited by TRYON EDWARDS. A new work from the than she could give-more than others were content pen of the illustrious Northampton pastor can not to grant. The loftiness of her self-esteem was the fail to be welcome to the admirers of his profound measure of her lavish disdain. Hence, with the ex- and original genius. Combining a rare acuteness ception of those with whom chance had made her of metaphysical speculation, with a glowing fervor intimate, she was more formidable than attractive to of religious sentiment, Edwards has called forth the the circle of her acquaintance; her presence in soci- most expressive eulogiums from the philosophers of ety called forth aversion or terror; as she dispensed the old world, while his name is still "familiar as a the scathing splendors of her Jove-like lightnings, household word" in the primitive homes of New En rather than the sweet refreshments of womanhood. gland. His character presented a striking union of But beneath this social despotism, were concealed a intellectual vigor with earnest piety. The childlike genuine kindliness of nature, a large sympathizing simplicity of his tastes was blended with the refined heart, a singular power of entering into the condition subtlety of a medieval schoolman. The apostle of of others, and a weird magnetic charm which drew disinterested love, his soul was inspired and thrilled to her closest intimacy the most opposite characters. with contemplating the glories of redemption, and She was, moreover, generous and noble to an uncom- the triumphs of grace over the ruins of humanity

only bow in mute tears.

The Lectures contained in this volume are devoted age demands clearness, brevity, point; it prefers to his favorite theme. They illustrate the principle practical facts to mystic symbols; and, above all, of love as the foundation of the Christian character, rejects artificial tamperings with Oriental imagery. and the expression of reconciliation with the Lord. Imitations of the venerable simplicity of the Bible In the high standard of duty which they present, in are always offensive to a correct niind; and scarcely their deep and comprehensive views of human na- less so is the ancient form of allegory disguised in ture, and in the force and sweetness of their style, fashionable trappings. The volume now put forth they compare favorably with the standard productions by Mr. Cheever forms no exception to these remarks. of their author, and are certainly not surpassed by He has met with but indifferent success, in an atany religious treatise of modern times. tempt where a perfect triumph would have brought little credit. The frequent sacrifices of nature and good taste, which his plan demands, illustrate his ingenuity at the expense of his judgment. He reminds us of John Bunyan, whom he takes for his model, only by contrast. We should as soon expect a modern Hamlet from Bulwer as a second Pilgrim's Progress from the present author. (Published by Charles Scribner.)

The manuscripts from which these lectures have been prepared were nearly ready for the press, as left by the writer. They were afterward placed in the charge of Dr. Hopkins and Dr. Bellamy, and are now for the first time given to the public by the present editor. He justly deserves the gratitude of the religious world for this valuable gift. (Published by R. Carter and Brothers).

characterizations, and its frequent scenes of tenderness and pathos.

Harper and Brothers have issued a neat octavo The Head of the Family, by the gifted author of edition of Sir JOHN RICHARDSON's Arctic Searching "The Ogilvies," forms the One Hundred and SixtyExpedition, comprising a copious journal of a boat- seventh number of Harper's "Library of Select voyage through Rupert's Land and the Arctic Sea, Novels." It is distinguished for the absorbing inin search of Sir John Franklin-a variety of inter-terest of its plot, the refinement and beauty of its esting details concerning the savages of that region --and an elaborate treatise on the physical geography of North America. Sir John Richardson left Liverpool in March, 1848, and after landing in New York, proceeded at once to the Saut Ste. Marie, where he arrived about the last of April. Starting in a few days from the Saut, he reached the mouth of the River Winnipeg on the 29th of May, and arrived at Cumberland House, on the Saskatchewan, June 13-a distance of nearly 3000 miles from New York. His various adventures on the overland route to Fort Confidence, in 66 degrees of north latitude, where the winter residence of the party was established, are related with great minuteness, presenting a lively picture of the manners of the Indians, and the physical phenomena of the icy North. The history of Sir John Franklin's Expedition, and the present state of the search for that intrepid navigator, is briefly recorded. With the prevailing interest in every thing connected with Arctic discovery, this volume is a most seasonable publication, and will be read with avidity by our intelligent countrymen.

NEANDER'S Practical Exposition of the Epistle of James has been translated by Mrs. H. C. CONANT, and published by Lewis Colby. We have before spoken of the success of Mrs. Conant, as the translator of Neander. She has accomplished her pres. ent task with equal felicity. Biblical students are greatly in her debt for introducing them to the acquaintance of such a profound and sympathizing interpreter of Holy Writ. Neander wisely avoids metaphysical subtleties. Nor is he a barren, verbal critic. He brings a sound, robust common sense to the exposition of his subject, seeking to detect the living spirit of the writer, and to reproduce it with genuine vitality. A new glow breathes over the sacred page under his cordial, feeling comments, and we seem to be brought into the most intimate communion with the inspired writer. It is no small praise to say of the translator, that she has trans. ferred this lifesome spirit, to a great degree, into her own production.

The Future Wealth of America, by FRANCIS BO- Redfield has published a spirited translation of NYNGE, is a volume of curious interest, describing ARSENE HOUSSAYE's work on the Men and Women the physical resources of the United States, and the of the Eighteenth Century in France. A more charcommercial and agricultural advantages of introduc-acteristic portraiture of that egotistic and voluptuous ing several new branches of cultivation. Among age is not to be found in any language. It places us the products enumerated by the author as adapted in the midst of the frivolous court, where the love to the soil and climate of this country are tea, coffee, of pleasure had triumphed over natural sentiment, and indigo, the date, the orange, the peach fruit, and where religion was lost in hypocrisy, and earnestthe guava. The work, though written in an enthusi-ness of character laughed out of countenance by astic spirit, is filled with practical details, and pre-shameless adventurers. The brilliancy of coloring sents a variety of useful suggestions in regard to the conditions of national prosperity. Mr. Bonynge is familiarly acquainted with the culture of tropical products, having resided for fourteen years in India and China. His book is well-deserving the attention of the American public.

The Twenty-second Part of COPLAND's Dictionary of Practical Medicine is published by Harper and Brothers, reaching to the eight hundredth page of the third volume of the work, and to the commencement of the letter S. For laymen who have occasion to refer to a medical work, this Dictionary forms a valuable book of reference, and may be consulted with convenience and profit. Its merits are too well known to the profession to demand comment.

A Reel in the Bottle, for Jack in the Doldrums, by Rev. HENRY T. CHEEVER. Modern allegory is a dangerous species of composition. The taste of the

in these volumes does not disguise the infamy of the persons whom it celebrates. They are displayed in all their detestable heartlessness, and present a wholesome warning to the reader by the hideous ugliness of their example.

BON GAULTIER's Book of Ballads. These clever parodies and satires, whose cool audacity and mischievous love of fun have secured them a favorite place in the English magazines, have been republished in a neat edition by Redfield. Our too thinskinned compatriots may find something to provoke their ire in the American Ballads, but the sly malice of these effusions generally finds an antidote in their absurdity. For the rest, Bon Gaultier may be called, in Yankee parlance, "a right smart chap," excelling in a species of literature which the highest genius rarely attempts.

We have a new edition of WALKER'S Rhyming

Dictionary from Lindsay and Blakiston-a welcome | KINGSFORD, one of the Chaplains to the Hon. East

aid, no doubt, to scribblers in pursuit of rhymes under difficulties. We hope it will not have the effect to stimulate the crop of bad poetry, which of late has been such a nuisance to honest readers.

MISS MITFORD, in her Literary Recollections gives some specimens of poetical charades by Mr. Praed, the most successful composer of lyrical jeux d'esprit of this kind. In the review of her work by the Athenæum, the two following charades are quoted, the latter of which, Miss Mitford says, is still a mystery to her, and proposes a solution to her readers:

1.

"Come from my First, ay, come!

The battle dawn is nigh;

India Company.-BENGEL's Gnomon of the New Testament, translated by the Rev. PETER HOLMES, of the Plymouth Royal Grammar School.

Mr. Bohn announces the following important Works as about to appear shortly: KIRBY and KIDD'S Bridgewater Treatises.-Coin-Collector's Hand-Book, by H. N. HUMPHREYS, with numerous engravings of Ancient Coins.-Greek Anthology; or Select Epigrams of the Greek Classic Poets, literally translated into Prose, with occasional parallels in verse by English Poets.-OERSTED'S Soul in Nature, and other works, translated from the Danish, with Life of the Author.-Rome in the 19th Century; with Maps and Diagrams.-KUGLER'S Historical Manual of Sculp

And the screaming trump and the thundering drum ture, Painting, and Architecture, Ancient and Modern. Are calling thee to die!

Fight as thy father fought;

Fall as thy father fell;

Thy task is taught; thy shroud is wrought,
So; forward and farewell!

"Toll ye my Second! toll!

Fling high the flambeau's light;

And sing the hymn for a parted soul

Beneath the silent night'

The wreath upon his head,

The cross upon his breast.

Let the prayer be said, and the tear be shed,
So, take him to his rest'

"Call ye my Whole, ay, call,

The lord of lute and lay;

And let him greet the sable pall

With a noble song to-day;

Go, call him by his name!

No fitter hand may crave

To light the flame of a soldier's fame
On the turf of a soldier's grave.

II.

"Sir Hilary charged at Agincourt,-
Sooth 'twas an awful day!
And though in that old age of sport
The rufflers of the camp and court

Had little time to pray,

'Tis said Sir Hilary muttered there
Two syllables by way of prayer.
"My First to all the brave and proud
Who see to-morrow's sun;

My Next with her cold and quiet cloud
To those who find their dewy shroud
Before to-day's be done;

And both together to all blue eyes

That weep when a warrior nobly dies."

A correspondent of the Literary Gazette furnishes the following poetical solution of the two charades

in one:

"No more we hear the sentry's heavy tramp
Around the precincts of the drowsy camp;
All now is hush'd in calm and sweet repose,
And peaceful is the lovely evening's close;
Save when the village chimes the hours forth-tell,
Or parting souls demand the passing bell.
Would I could grasp a Campbell's lyric pen!
I then might justice do to arms and men,'
And sing the well-fought field of Agincourt,
Where, hand to hand, mix'd in the bloody sport,
The hosts of France, vain of superior might,
By English valor were o'erthrown in fight,
And bade to fame and fortune long Good Night!"

The election of the Greek Professsor in the University of Edinburgh was fixed for the 2d of March. The number of candidates in the field was very large, but it was thought that many would retire before the day of election. The principal struggle was supposed to be between Dr. William Smith, of New College, London, the learned author of the Classical Dictionaries; Dr. Price, late of Rugby, the friend of Dr. Arnold; Professor Macdowall, of Queen's College, Belfast; and Professor Blackie, of Aberdeen. The emoluments of the chair are upward of 8001., and the college duties extend only over about half the year, during the winter session from November to May.

Professor ROBINSON, our townsman, whose proposed expedition to Palestine we lately announced, was at Berlin, at the latest accounts, and expects to be at Beyrout on the 1st of March. He intends to occupy most of his time in visiting the more remcte districts of the country, and those villages off the usual routes, which are least known to travelers. Toward the completion of the topography and geography of Palestine, we may expect many new facts to be thus obtained. One of the American missionaries in Syria, the Rev. ELI SMITH, and Mr. WILLIAM DICKSON, of Edinburgh, are to join Professor ROB INSON at Beyrout, and accompany him in the journey. The identification of the site of the Holy Sepulchre, about which there has been much dispute lately, is one object to which special attention will be given. Dr. Robinson was in London, on his route to the Continent, and attended the meetings of the Geographical and other Societies.

The wife of Professor ROBINSON has recently published a protest in the London Athenæum against a garbled English edition of her work on the Colonization of New England. Mrs. ROBINSON says, “A work appeared in London last summer with the following title: Talvi's History of the Colonization of America,' edited by William Hazlitt, in two volumes. It seems proper to state that the original work was written under favorable circumstances in German, and published in Germany. It treated only of the colonization of New England:-and that only stood on its title-page. The above English publication Messrs. Clark of Edinburgh have in preparation, therefore, is a mere translation-and it was made translations of the following works: viz.-Dr. JULIUS without the consent or knowledge of the author. MULLER'S great work on the Doctrine of Sin, trans- The very title is a misnomer; all references to au iated under the superintendence of the author.-thorities are omitted; and the whole work teems Professor MUSTON's Israel of the Alps, the latest with errors, not only of the press, but also of transand most complete History of the Waldenses, translation-the latter such as could have been made by lated with the concurrence of the author.-DORNER no person well acquainted with the German and on the Person of Christ, translated by the Rev. Mr. English tongues. For the work in this form, there

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