THE objective life of a nation is a luminous exposition of its subjective existence. The spiritual depends upon the temporal and the corporeal upon the incorporeal. Mind necessitates matter, since we cannot conceive of the individuality of that which is altogether intangible and evanescent. There may be an ontological unity, but, parallel with this, is a necessitous triplicity, viz:-The Ingurgitation of Potables, the Intromis

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sion of Comestibles, and the Intercalation of Somnolence. A particular of the second general invites our cogitation in the present lucubration : to wit, the typical significance and topical relations of the Cucurbita Pepo* when made into pie.

Diving into the

This pie is an invention of the pilgrim fathers. abyssess of their cognitions they found there an idea-image to which nothing tangible corresponded. They therefore proceeded to adumbrate this preexisting abstraction into a permanent concretion. The reflective apperception became a necessary conception, and this by a spontaneity of application, a sensible result manifested in the pulpy delicacy we are considering.

Glorious result! The objective actual transcended for the subjective logical. The idea-image became not only the pie actual but the pie typical. To make this recognizable, I subjoin the following table:

* Pumpkin, Old Eng. Pompion; Fr. Pompon; It. Pepone; Sp. Pepon. Lat. Pepo.

Now when they exceed in greatness they are called pepones, i. e. melon or pompons.-Pliny, Book 19, chap. 5.

We'll use this green watery pumpion, and teach him to know turtles from jays.-Shakespeare.

Perhaps I should rather say our pilgrim mothers. Since the first pumpkin pie was undoubtedly made by Mrs. Morton, wife of Morton of the Merry Mount in Weymouth, Massachusetts. By some accident a pumpkin seed had sprung up in the fertile soil in the door yard. Mrs. Morton's little boy watched the growing plant with great interest, and when the golden fruit made its appearance, his mother asked him what should be done with it. The little fellow, whose fondness for pastry was inordinately great, lisped out "Pie! pie."

Now Mrs. Morton had never heard of a pumpkin pie, but as she did not wish to disappoint the boy, she went to work and produced the famous dish called pumpkin pie. The fame of it immediately spread through all New England. And it was because they feasted so much on pumpkin pie that caused Governor Endicott to cut down the pole, and disperse the inhabitants of Merry Mount. This story is not found in Peters' History of Connecticut.

Holbrook is wrong when he thinks the pilgrims were called Pi-et-ists, on this account.

Also the following indubitable fact presents itself. Pumpkin-pie is naturally segregated into six portions, and new England was also separated into six States.*

Thus have we shown the typical significance of Pumpkin pie, and we must now ponder upon its æsthetic use as an Emblem. Our cognizance of the emblematical and hieroglyphical rests upon primitive psychological consciousness. We trace a similitude between the indefinite and the definite. Consequently,(here the composition which before was exceedingly lucid, grows so metaphysical that we spare our readers the final ten pages, and only add a poem extracted from the final note.)

The following short poem in doggerel verse, was found in the pocket of a pair of cast off breeches, which formerly belonged to an Australian miner:

PUMPKIN PIE.

When streams roll down the aureal flood,

On Australasian shores,

Where every swamp has golden mud,

And every stone its ores;

A youth from fair New England's clime,
Was often heard to sigh,
"I'd give my pile of golden dust,
For one good pumpkin pie."

In vain to pray, where men can prey
On long-legged kangaroos ;
And where he chews his bit of game
No pumpkin will he choose.
So all in vain did he implore,
Vain was his heartfelt cry;
"I will give o'er my golden ore
For one good pumpkin pie."

But still he dug for paltry pelf,
And saw his gold dust shine,
Till he could say unto himself,
"A mine of gold is mine."

We are aware that a great many objections will be raised by those who contend that pumpkin pie should be quartered, or else divided into eight parts. We have not space to state the arguments pro and con, bnt simply state that we consider six the happy medium, especially when these parts can be doubled, trebled, or quadrupled, as at the Shanghai Club, with no fear of the frown of a boarding-house mistress.

But as the rapid year moved on,

Thanksgiving day drew nigh,

And then he wished, oh! how he wished
For one good pumpkin pie.

And as that festive day drew nigh,
That day he kept in youth,
With pious care be made a pie,
In form, if not in truth.
For, mixing all his golden dust,
While tears bedewed his eye,
He formed upon a silver crust,
A golden pumpkin pie.

Lauriger Horatius.

A GERMAN STUDENT SONG.

WITH A TRANSLATION BY L. W. FITCH.

A Pen of Steel.

GIVE me a pen of steel!

Away with the gray goose quill!
I will grave the thoughts I feel
With a fiery heat and will:

I will grave with the stubborn pen
On the tablet of the heart,

Words never to fade again,

And thoughts that shall ne'er depart.

Give me a pen of steel!

Hardened, and bright, and keen,To run like the chariot's wheel When the battle flame is seen:And give me the warrior's heart,

To struggle through night and day, And to write with this thing of art Words clear as the lightning's play.

Give me a pen of steel!

The softer age is done,

And the thoughts that lover's feel
Have long been sought and won:-
No more of the gray goose quill—
No more of the lover's lay-

I have done with the minstrel's skill,
And I change my path today.

Give me a pen of steel!

I will tell to after times

How nerve and iron will

Are poured to the world in rhymes:

How the soul is changed to power,
And the heart is changed to flame,

In the space of a passing hour
By poverty and shame!

Give me a pen of steel!-

But even this shall rust,

The touch of time shall feel,

And crumble away to dust ;So perishes my heart,

Corroding day by day,

And laid, like the pen, apart,

Worn out and cast away!